Chapter 29
Dean
All I could think about after my conversation with Grace was about our kids and how my fucking genetics had already screwed them up. Every step I took around the house that evening reminded me in rhythm with my footsteps, You did this. You did this. You did this. I closed my eyes and shook my head when Sam asked, "You okay?"
"Fine, man. Don't worry about it." I was incapable of telling my brother the truth.
He took Levi home and we were once again alone: my wife, my kids and me. I made a mental note to call Cas and have a discussion about this whole 'fourth kid' thing once we were done with the wolf pack.
Grace was in the living room, reading to Liberty and Everett, so I headed upstairs with Glory to get the final count of silver bullets and split them into clips, ready for our attack tomorrow. I pulled out my phone to call Serra and finalize our plan of attack. "Hey, it's me," I greeted when she picked up on the first ring.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing, I wanna make sure you've got your game face on. We're going tomorrow after work." I said, loading clips into the weapons that lay on the bed as Glory played on her blanket in the middle of our rug.
Serra's voice was excited, "Yeah, for sure. I'm only on the clock until three tomorrow. We can get gone late afternoon. They won't know we're coming."
I nodded. "That's the plan. I'm gonna bring the Wagoneer home tomorrow. Have Sam take you to work in the morning and I'll come and get you. Grace can always drop me at the shop the following morning so I can get the Impala."
"You mean the 'Shaggin' Wagon?'" she said, laughing.
I shook my head, closing my eyes. "Don't tell me stuff like that."
She laughed. "How many clips you got?"
Counting in my head, I answered, "Eleven. Not counting the ones you took home a couple of days ago."
"I brought home eight."
I nodded my approval. "So we're locked and loaded. Should be plenty." I looked around the room for my bag of weapon accessories. "You have suppressors for your .45s?"
"Yeah, but not for my .9 mil or my .38."
"I don't think you'll need either one. You're accurate with the .45s. If we go through those eight clips, we've got bigger problems than worrying about if we're heard or not."
Serra paused over the phone. "How's Grace?"
Making a face, I sat on the bed behind me, sighing as I did. "There's a lot to tell."
"Sam said you guys seemed tense when he came to get Levi," she ventured. "Are you two okay?"
I nodded, knowing that if the answer had been 'no,' Serra would have no issue going 'American Sniper' on me through our bedroom window. "We're fine, Serra. Everett is hard on her. We'll talk you guys through it after we're done with the pack. Priorities."
She seemed satisfied with my answer and finally said, "Alright. For now." She paused a beat and then continued, "Just keep in mind, Winchester: I can easily clear a shot from four hundred yards."
"That's…terrifying," I said, taking a deep breath, "but unnecessary."
"See you tomorrow at the hospital."
"Three o'clock," I confirmed.