New chapter for my readers. It's odd how people read the story but don't follow it...confuses me. The numbers don't seem to be in my favor when I do the math. Yet supposedly people are reading. Whatevs. Imma still do my thing. So this chapter was HARD. Fun! But hard. Because I don't really wanna copy the show but Grace is a quiet character for now so I'm just letting it flow. Till they REALLLLLY get to know her story. Castiel is coming on soon! Imagine his reaction to Grace...
Grace's eyes flutter open. She sits up and checks her surroundings.
Okay. Motel. Lots of mirrors. Dingy bed. Dean.
His sleeping form is next to her. He seems to have passed out while reading a book.
Huh. Doesn't seem like the reading type.
Gracie rolls onto her stomach and leans on her arms. She stares at Dean's softly sleeping face. You wouldn't have a clue he's a killer from this point of view.
She sighs. You're not how I expected. I'm not even sure what I did expect. For one, I thought you'd at least remember our dreams together. Although, Sam didn't. I like to believe I had a little more hope for you though. She shakes her head and let's her face hit the pillow in self-loathing.
Great. Now I'm talking to people when they're sleeping and I'm awake.
She flips her head over and looks at the dated alarm clock. 12:30am. She looks around the room. Where's Sam?
Suddenly, the TV turns on with nothing but static. Grace shoots up to the sitting position. The alarm clock's radio won't stop tuning.
Oh no. Not here!
She scoots back until her backside hits Dean's side.
He grumbles at her nudge.
"Dean…" She whispers.
He mumbles some illegible syllables and slips an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. His heavy hand rests on her hip.
"Dean!" She yells as the sounds get louder. Her hands clutch his arm, surrounding her, and shakes him.
His eyes blink open and he rubs one as he comes to. Realization hits him as he's noticing the shrieking electronics.
He glances at Grace and whips her back first onto the bed and he swiftly pushes himself up and over her. He rolls over and grabs his shotgun, ready for anything. He motions Grace up and she complies. He gets up from the bed and she stays close to his back as he inches across the room, clutching onto the back of his shirt. Dean notices his brother's absence on the bed and his eyes flit back to Grace, then back forward. He nears the door, weapon raised, weariness on his face.
The intense pitch suddenly becomes somehow louder, deafening them both.
They both hold their hands to their ears as the overwhelming noise resonates around them. They both groan and cry out from the sheer earsplitting pitch.
Mirrors crack above them and Dean throws down his shotgun. He grabs hold of Grace as glass shatters around them. The pitch only then intensifies. More glass and mirrors crash down around them as Dean glides to the floor on top of Grace. She clutches onto Dean's shirt as glass falls to the floor. Her arms go around his body over his t-shirt yet under his plaid shirt. Her head is against his chest, feeling his heart beat with energy.
Is this my fault? It's happened before. Could it be Uncle all along? I'd never forgive myself if…
The door bursts open with Bobby hanging in the doorway, gun in hand.
"Dean. Dean!"
He shuffles over to them and helps them out of the room. They clear out of the motel room and into the night air.
Once by the car, Bobby deposits Grace into the backseat and Dean upfront. He hops into the driver's seat and revs the engine on out of there.
With a squeal of the tires, they're back on the road, leaving Bobby to ask for some much needed answers on what the next move is.
"How ya doin', kids?"
"Besides the church bells ringing in my head; peachy," Dean says sarcastically.
Gracie groans and then picks a small shard of glass out of her side with a whimper.
"Been better," Grace sighs as her wound closes up.
Dean turns around just in time to see the wound close.
"That reminds me. You, Me, and Sammy? We're all gonna have a nice long talk about your…thing," Dean promises, eyes dancing over her body. She's still in Sam's now wrinkled shirt and the black shorts. No wounds show from the glass hitting her. God, she's pale. Almost…translucent. Glowing. What could she be?
Her head whips to the side, facing him with a glare.
He turns back around and flips open his phone, dialing Sam.
… "What're you doing?" Dean asks.
… "In my car?"
… "Well…uh Bobby's back. Going to grab a beer." Dean holds a finger to his lips at Bobby's shocked expression.
… "Done. I'll catch ya later." He flips the phone shut.
"Why the hell didn't you tell him?" Bobby asks prickly.
"Cuz he'd just try to stop us."
"From what?" Bobby questions.
"Summoning this thing," they both look at each other, "It's time we face it head on."
Gracie looks back and forth at each of the men in front of her.
"You can't be serious," Bobby says flatly.
"As a heartattack," Dean answers, looks back at Grace and says saucily, "It's how I do, baby."
"We don't know what it is. It could be a demon. It could be anything," Bobby mutters, clearly flustered.
"That's why we gotta be ready for anything."
Dean whips out a very intense looking knife. "We got the big time magic knife. You got an arsenal in the trunk." Dean shrugs.
Magic knife?
"This is a bad idea," Bobby spouts out gravely.
"Yeah. Couldn't agree more, but what other choice do we have."
"We could choose life," Bobby says, eyes wide.
"Bobby whatever this is, whatever it wants, it's after me. That much we know. Right?" Dean asks as Bobby's head turns to face him, "I got no place to hide. Either we get caught with our pants down again or we can make our stand." He valiantly nods his head.
"Dean, we could use Sam for this."
"No, he's better off where he is."
"Uhm excuse me, but where is Sam?" Gracie asks moving forward on the sit and sitting up straight.
She rests her hand on the shoulder of Dean's seat for leverage in the rocking car.
Dean flits his eyes at Grace. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Your boyfriend's fine."
Grace's brows furrow. "He's not my boyfriend. He's not even my friend."
Grace wanted to say where same was, but she couldn't risk going off on her own with no protection. She felt Dean deserved to know. He seemed almost entirely faithful to Sam.
He's with Ruby. I know he is.
"And what are we doing?
"You are just staying back behind me and Bobby. I don't want you ruining our chance of catching this thing," Dean snaps at Grace.
"If something does go wrong I guess I'm the only one that will live to tell about it," Grace shrugs defiantly, crossing her arms and laying back into her seat.
Because I think they're actually after me. If it is part of Uncle's sick game then I won't let myself live long enough to tell anyone about it. He can't have me. No one can ever have me.