Chapter 12

Serra

I didn't realize at first why Grace not aging was a big deal. I'm a 'small picture' person, worried about only what is in front of me. Grace (as usual) is the exact opposite, seeing the future ahead of us… the 'big picture,' if you will. She had wondered, on occasion, if The Mark would have any affect on either one of them, but I hadn't considered the possibility. It's why they had always seemed so perfect for each other. When we walked out of the delivery room, I grabbed Sammy's hand and let Dean deal with her…I needed some head space too.

In the days and weeks that followed, the doctors sent Grace and the babies home and we got to watch Liberty meet her brother and sister. She was fascinated by the tiny creatures and we kept having to remind her to be gentle. Johnny became nursemaid almost immediately, setting up camp on the blankets in between Glory and Everett. He kept an eye on Lib as well, nosing her in the face when she got too close to the sleeping infants. It was a good arrangement.

Levi was big and he was starting to push in all the wrong places in my own body and I was constantly uncomfortable. I was convinced that his elbows were digging into my lungs and his head was wedged up under my ribs.

Less than a week before my due date, the whole family was over at me and Sam's. The boys cooked dinner and after we ate, we were sprawled out in the middle of the living room, babies, kid, and dog sprinkled about and I stretched out on the floor as far as I could to get Levi out of the way so I could take a deep breath.

"How's it going over there, Sere?" Sam's voice asked quietly. "You doing okay?"

I grumbled under my breath and rolled to the side, dreading the time when I would have to get back up, off the floor. "No. I'm over being pregnant, but on the flip side, I don't want to give birth, either."

Grace rolled her eyes at me, "You can't have it both ways."

"You don't know," was my automatic reply, knowing full well that she was right.

I glanced at my sister, trying to read her the best I could without being a psychic myself. We hadn't talked about her and Dean's lack of aging since the hospital and I wasn't sure how to bring it back up. For now, we enjoyed each other's company and I tried not to think about the oncoming birth. I glanced at Sam and smiled lightly and he smiled back. I noticed Dean's gaze, locked on my sister and I followed his line of sight. She was nuzzling Everett, her face was close to his and she was talking to him quietly. I looked back at Dean and smiled to myself. He may have panicked about having three kids, but I knew he loved every minute of it. If anyone could figure out how to handle being ageless with my sister, I knew my brother-in-law could.

He caught me staring and raised his eyebrows at me. "How's it going over there, Beach Ball?"

"Cram it with walnuts," I growled, my mood swinging back the other way. He laughed, knowing I was only half kidding and Grace shook her head. She paused, listening to something no one else could hear and made a face. I stared at her, waiting for an explanation and she shook her head. "What?" I insisted, knowing that she knew something I didn't.

"I don't want to tell you," she said, rolling to her side and smiling knowingly.

"Dammit, Grace," I said, but I was cut off by a pain rolling through my back and around my stomach. I glanced and her and she pressed her lips together apologetically. "Oh, shit," I said, taking a deep breath.

Sam was on his feet and over to my side on the floor in a matter of seconds. "What?" he asked, squatting down to me, "What is it?"

"Grace just predicted me going into labor," I answered, looking up at him. He was the reason I would be in pain for the next two days, at least. "I just had my first fucking contraction."

"Sorry," came Grace's voice behind Sam. "I told you that you couldn't have it both ways."

I reached for Sam's offered hand as he helped me stand. "Oh shut up," I snapped, walking to the couch. I stepped over Johnny and a sleeping Libby and plopped down on the cushions behind me. I put my feet up and waited for the inevitable. Grace stood as well, walking over to me and putting a hand on my gigantic belly. She listened quietly for a second or two and smiled. "This should be interesting."

"How long have I got?"

Shaking her head, she shrugged. "Your water hasn't broken yet. You've probably still got awhile." She bent to scoop up Glory as she started to fuss. "You're in the industry, though. You make the call." She sat down next to me and got comfortable so she could nurse Glory.

I shook my head. She was right. If my water hadn't broken yet, I would just get sent home to wait it out for harder contractions to start. We were only about six minutes from the hospital and everyone there knew I was due next week. I leaned my head back on the couch, "I'll wait it out for a bit," I said, closing my eyes. "I've been tortured in Hell. How bad could it be?"

…

This really fucking sucks. Dean had taken the girls home, leaving Grace and Everett with Sam and me. After the second contraction hit, he hit the door running, not wanting to even be in the same room with me while I experienced labor for the first time. It had been about three hours and the pain was bearable, but I knew I wouldn't be on board with it in about two hours. Sam had been busy, cleaning up the dishes from dinner and bringing down my fuzzy boots and bag for the hospital trip. Grace stayed near me, but I could tell that she wanted to go home, if nothing else, to shower and get ready so she could go with us to the hospital.

"It's okay, Grace, you can go," I said, contraction free for about the last ten minutes. "I'll text you when we head over."

She lifted her eyebrows, asking permission. "Are you sure?" she asked, bouncing a very noisy Everett. He had been on the edge of crabby all evening and she continued the pacing pattern around the living room as she spoke. "If you need me, I'll stay."

I was shaking my head when the next contraction struck. "No," I said through the pain, "go home and get ready. I'll text you when we head over and then you can come and hold my hand if I end up killing him." I gestured at Sam, who shrugged slightly.

"Okay," Grace said, turning to the door, "I'll go and shower so I'm ready."

"Whatever," I said, breathing slowly.

My sister hesitated at the door and grinned at Sam, "Good luck, Sammy," she said, opening the door, walking out, and closing it behind her.

…

About an hour later, my water still hadn't broken, but the contractions were getting close enough together that I didn't feel comfortable staying at home any longer. "Alright, jerk," I said to my husband, waggling my fingers at him, "help me up. We're going."

Sam held out his hand, shaking his head as he pulled me into a standing position. "Are you going to be mean to me the whole time you're in labor?"

"Probably," I said, rubbing my back. "I'm so sorry that I hurt your wittle feewings," I muttered as another contraction hit me, walking down the steps.

"It's a good thing your sister is coming," Sammy said, locking the door behind us. "She'll be able to throw it back at you."

"She won't if she knows what's good for her." I pulled out my phone and texted her, although I'm sure Grace already knew that we were on our way. I glanced towards The Big House as we drove away in Sam's El Camino and saw her standing in the doorway, waving at me.

…

"They're on their way to the hospital, Dean," Grace was saying, staring out the front door and waving. "She's nervous."

"I'll bet," Dean said, walking towards her. "Should I call Jody to come stay with the kids? Or is it still going to be awhile?"

Shaking her head and gathering what she needed and throwing it into her purse, Grace shrugged. "It's up to you, really. I think it will still be awhile. She's only been in labor three hours or so, and it's her first kid, so it's gonna take a bit." She walked over towards Dean laying a hand on his chest. "Get some sleep and I'll call you when he's close. Or if Sammy needs you."

"Deal," he said, leaning closer to kiss his wife. "Don't let her talk shit to you."

"You know she will," Grace responded. "She's not going to handle this well."

Laughing, Dean took the last swig of his beer. "No, no she's not."

Smiling over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her, Grace headed towards the newest addition to their car collection: an army green 1970 Chevy Suburban. Dean had begun restoring it in his off time; her purple Chevelle was tucked away safely in the barn until repairs could be completed. The rollover that it had suffered had already cost Dean and Grace quite a bit, but Dean did what he could from parts he could scavenge from his body shop. The Suburban had been christened "The Tank" and a tank it was. It had the capacity to hold nine people, fully loaded, which meant that even if Sam and Serra decided to have another child, all of the Winchesters could ride in the same vehicle, if need be. Now that Grace was taking an extended leave of absence (maybe permanently, she hadn't decided yet,) she would need to be able to cart around Liberty, Everett, Glory, and Levi at the same time. The Chevelle wouldn't cut it.

Enter The Tank.

She pulled out of their driveway and out on to the highway as her phone pinged with another text from her sister. This fucking blows.

Grace chuckled to herself. It was going to be a long night.