Sorry for the late update. I just wasn't picturing well enough on how the story was going to take off from our last chapter. Plus full time work and school doesn't help the creative juices. I also decided to skip the episode 'Yellow Fever'. It's a hilarious episode, yeah, but I felt like it might drag the story out too much and I'm eager to move on to what I have planned! This chapter is mostly back story. I'm so excited for you guys to see what I have planned! Next chapter is gonna be long I'm thinking! Review if possible! Thank you!
The amigos three head to a new motel and the boys assess Grace's wounds.
They place her in the middle of one of the beds and Sam settled next to her.
"We should probably have her change into something not so formal," Sam suggests, eyes blaring up at Dean.
Arms crossed, Dean purses his lips and raises an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, are you suggesting we undress an unconscious girl, Sammy?"
Sam sits there with his mouth open and looks back and forth from Dean to Grace.
"Just say no, dumbass. She'll be fine. Throw a blanket over her," Dean huffs, staring at Grace's passed out form.
Dean seats himself on the other side of Grace, gazing at her longingly.
His eyes crinkle and a slight smile forms at the edge of his mouth. He raises a hand and brushes her hair back from her face. The bruises from their encounter still mar her face. Dean's face crinkles at the look of her injuries. Her white hair fans out from her head.
I should have protected her better. I let this happen.
He holds a hand to his head and rubs it down his face.
I gotta get out of this room.
"Hey, Sammy?" Dean says, standing up abruptly and puts on his jacket.
Sam glances up, brow furrowing with question of Dean's sudden movement. "Yeah?"
"I'm going to head out for a celebratory beer," Dean claims, "You okay here?"
Sam looks over at Grace's steadily resting figure and shrugs. "I guess so."
"Awesome. Be back in a while. Take good care of her," Dean mentioned on his way out and closed the door behind him, leaving Sam to give him a curious look.
Time passes by and Sam drifts off from the book he was reading. Grace groans and reaches out, resting her palm on Sam's chest. Her leg reached up out of the long slit in her white dress and wraps around Sam's. She snuggles into his neck. She hums in appreciation and her eyes flutter partially open. They wander about the room and find that Dean is nowhere to be found.
"Where's Dean?" She whispers, voice plagued from sleep. Her breath is hot on Sam's neck.
His arm underneath her strokes up and down her back.
"Mmm, he went out for a beer."
"Now?" Gracie raises her head.
"I mean a little while ago but yeah."
Grace hides her face in the crook of his neck.
"Shouldn't he rest?" She mumbles into him.
Sam rubs one of his eyes. "I couldn't stop him. My brother has no keeper, Gracie."
She sits up, balancing on one of Sam's legs and huffs. Sam smiles up at her. Her hair cascades down her back, wild from her nap.
"Do you know how beautiful you are, Grace?" He blurts out.
Grace's eyes widen. "Wh-what?"
Sam blushes intensely at his outburst. "You're just an amazingly beautiful woman, Grace. We're lucky to have you." He reaches out and touches her leg; his hand feeling the soft white silk against her skin.
Grace's red cheeks mirror Sam's own. "Thank you, Sam. For coming to save me." She bends down and places a kiss on Sam's rosy cheek. They gasp together as their electricity sparks through each other at the simple touch. Their eyes clash intently as Grace raises herself from the kiss. She bites her lip and breaks their intense submersion in one another.
"I should probably get dressed," she mutters and hops off of Sam.
Grace walks over to Sam's duffle and pulls out a change of clothes. She hurries into the bathroom and slips off the white dress.
Well this needs to be burned.
She glances up at the mirror and sees her slightly swollen cheek. Feelings of guilt swims into her head.
I killed him.
He was a killer, Grace.
He would have hurt Dean and Sam. Captivity never did suit you.
Sighing, she flicks away a fallen tear from her face.
Quickly, she gets dressed into a big old blue plaid shirt of Sam's and jeans. She steps out just as Dean stumbles in the door.
"Hey, Twinks," he smirks.
He then proceeds to the bed across the room and falls face first into the bed.
Grace blinks rapidly and looks over at Sam. He shrugs and smiles to himself at his fool of a brother.
Late the next afternoon~
Dean squints along at the road in front of them with Baby's engine roaring through the air.
"Dude. Are you really hungover?" Sam asks incredulously.
Dean shoots him a nervous look but quickly gazes back at the road. He holds his hand up at the windshield. "It's just bright out there, Sammy."
Sam shakes his head, smiling. "Right."
"I had a lot on my mind," Dean sighs and glances to the backseat at Grace staring out the window.
I couldn't stand to see her pain. To know I could have stopped it. But I wasn't fast enough. And it killed me that I couldn't protect her like she trusted me to.
Halloween~
The boys decided that they could pose Grace as an intern for the time being. They bought her some makeup to try to mellow out her red-rimmed eyes and look less like she just went on drug spree. She really didn't think it'd work. Although, she also never had a reason to cover them up in the first place.
"I don't like it."
The two hunters stare down at her, arms crossed accordingly.
"It'll do the job," Sam rebuffs his brother.
"She doesn't look right," Dean grumbles and points to her with his hand.
Grace frowns and smacks his hand away. "She is right here. I don't care how it looks. Let's just go." She rises from the bed with their eyes still blaring on her.
"What?" She questions.
Sam flicks his gaze up and then down on her.
"You're gonna have to dress up," Sam says and smirks even brighter.
High School Art Room~
"She nearly clawed my eyes out."
Don Harding, the school are teacher, stares at Grace. His eyes rove over her like a beast does his prey.
Grace meets his eyes and his head quirks to the side.
Dean clears his throat and his eyes zero in on the teacher.
"Who's this?" He asks with a lingering gaze.
Dean steps in front of Grace, blocking her from his vision.
"Our intern. Doesn't matter. I'm the one you're talking to, pal," Dean commands.
Grace scoffs at Dean's macho move.
Doesn't matter? Excuse me? I'm wearing a pants suit for this crap.
She sighs and looks up at the creepy masks hanging from the ceiling.
If only these kids knew. These masks don't seem to be too far from the truth.