There But for Grace

Chapter Ten

Episode Nine – Home

"Jesus," Grace swore in a croaking voice, rolling her head up from where it had been leaning against the back seat of the Impala as she awoke. "Have you two decided never to leave this car again or something?"

What had previously been an inconvenience that had occurred every now and again was turning into an extremely irritating regular occurrence, and Grace was not appreciative of waking up in the back of the car once more.

"Morning, sunshine," Dean greeted her, flicking his eyes to the rear view mirror to get a look at her bed hair. "And may I say you are looking particularly wonderful."

"Bite me."

Grace scrubbed at her eyes with both hands, trying to wake herself up properly.

"So, would you like to know how we've been spending our time?"

There was a hard edge to Dean's question and Grace looked up quickly. He was no longer looking at her, but straight ahead at the road and, when she flicked her gaze towards him, Sam was staring at his brother in apprehension.

"How have you been spending your time?" Grace asked slowly, turning to look at Dean once more.

"Well, firstly, Sammy had a nightmare. Not so strange, right?" Dean flicked his eyes towards her again and she shook her head mutely. The sarcasm in his tone was becoming more pronounced by the minute. "That's what I thought. But, turns out, Sammy here is a bit psychic. You know, can see stuff before it happens?"

"Dean," Sam protested, but he didn't have anything else to say and Dean had plenty.

"Oh, but that's not all. D'you know what his latest vision was about?" Grace shook her head again, it appeared that she had missed a lot while she slept this time and it was beginning to scare her. "Apparently, there's some blonde chick who needs our help. A blonde chick who happens to be living in our old house, where – "

For the first time Dean hesitated and his other emotions caught up with his anger. Grace could easily fill in the gap, 'where our mom died', but Dean caught himself and restructured the sentence.

"Our old house back in Kansas. So guess where we're going? Back home to Aunty M."

He fell silent abruptly, sending Sam a heavy scowl. It was hard to tell whether he was angry because Sam hadn't told him about being able to see things before they happened or because he was being forced to physically face up to what had happened twenty-two years ago. Grace and Sam didn't know which, and Dean probably wasn't entirely sure either.

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When they pulled up outside the house on the quiet street in Lawrence, Kansas, they sat silently in the car just looking at it.

There was nothing to show what had happened there all those years ago. For something so momentous, Grace had almost expected a plaque or something.

Neither of the boys moved and, after a while, she felt the need to break the silence.

"So, that's the house?"

"Yeah," Sam said quietly.

"It's nice," she said softly, not really knowing what she meant by the comment but sure it was something more than that it looked like a pleasant house, a nice place to live.

Sam turned to his brother.

"You gonna be all right, man?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Let me get back to you on that."

They both got out of the car and Grace climbed over into the front seat. Suddenly making the decision she leaned out of the door and called after them.

"Hey, you guys go ahead, I'm gonna wait in the car."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, frowning.

"Yeah, you should go by yourselves."

Sam nodded and turned back to the house, walking up the front path. Dean looked at Grace a little longer and she gave him an encouraging smile, which he half returned before following his brother back to their childhood home.

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When they reemerged from the house half an hour later, there was an air of panic around them. Grace looked up to see them in earnest conversation and she quickly retuned the radio to the classic rock station Dean favored and clambered into the back seat.

"Well, those people are in danger, Dean," Sam was saying as he got in the shotgun side of the car. "We have to get 'em out of that house."

"And we will," Dean told him shortly.

"No, I mean now."

Grace looked at Sam in surprise; they surely couldn't have actually found what was after the blonde woman from Sam's dream already?

Dean turned in his seat to face Sam fully.

"And how are you gonna do that, huh?" he asked, regarding his brother closely. "You got a story that she's gonna believe?"

Sam stared back for a minute before sighing and giving up, moving to look straight out of the windscreen.

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

Dean shrugged slightly and after a pause started the car and pulled out into the road.

Grace leaned back fully into the seat, regarding the back of the heads of the two Winchesters. She had a very bad feeling about this.

Sam's question went unanswered until they reached a gas station. Dean was filling up the Impala, Sam standing next to him, leaning against the car and watching the numbers flick by on the meter.

"We just gotta chill out, that's all," Dean said, looking around at the surrounding country rather that at his brother. "You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?"

Sam sighed. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealin' with. We'd dig into the history of the house."

Grace clambered out of the car, her cell to one ear as she dialed her answer phone. "I'm gonna go get a drink," she told the others who nodded absently in reply.

She didn't have any new messages, didn't even want a drink that much, she just wanted to get away for a minute or two. No matter what Dean said, there was no way they could treat this like any other hunt. Even without it centering around their old home, they had been led to it by Sam's alleged psychic abilities, which, however you looked at it, wasn't normal.

When Grace reemerged, cold drink in hand, Sam was standing by the car alone, flicking through his father's journal where it rested on the roof. His pose was a familiar one to Grace, he often lent against the car like that, generally reading something, and if the journal wasn't so complicated he would know it completely by now. Seeing him in that habitual position made her study him all the closer, but however hard she looked she could see nothing different about him. She knew he could see things that were going to happen in future, but on the outside, and she was pretty sure on the inside too, he was the same Sam. He just wanted to help people and find his father.

As she stood watching, Dean came abruptly round the corner of the building, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he went.

"Hey," she called as he walked past her. He turned at the sound of her voice and Grace was surprised by the emotion in his eyes. "Are you ok?" she frowned, taking a step forward and lifting a hand to his arm.

For a moment he looked at her and she thought that he might actually say something, reveal something of what he was thinking for once. But the second was gone as quickly as it came and he was shrugging off her hand and reaching for her drink.

"I'm fine."

And he was walking back to the car and Sam, already asking if he'd found anything.

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Missouri Moseley, psychic, had a comfortable waiting room, more like a sitting room of a house than a waiting room really. The chairs arranged around the coffee table and the beaded curtain that separated it from the rest of the house had Grace fighting comparisons with the oracle from the Matrix movies.

Sam was staring around with interest, but Dean, sitting to her right, was looking ahead, only the slight bouncing of his leg revealing his inner disquiet.

A middle aged woman emerged through the beaded curtain, leading a man to the front door.

"All right, there. Don't you worry 'bout a thing," she reassured him as she ushered him out of the door. "Your wife is crazy about you."

The man thanked her, cast a smile in their direction and left. Missouri watched him go before closing the door with a sad sigh.

"Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener."

All three of them looked up in surprise.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked.

"People don't come here for the truth," she informed him, as if it was obvious. "They come for good news. Well? Sam and Dean, come on already, I ain't got all day," she went to leave the room before turning back and beckoning to Grace. "You too Gracie, you're a part of this."

Grace raised her eyebrows in surprise, having just been thinking about suggesting she stay out in the waiting room. Missouri seemed to know what she was doing.

The three of them followed her into the next room and stood about awkwardly, waiting for her next thinly veiled command. It had been a long time since any of them had been in a house that they hadn't lied their way into.

"Well, let me look at you," Missouri smiled at the two Winchesters. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome," she pointed a finger at Dean. "And you were one goofy-lookin' kid."

Dean stared at her affronted while Sam smirked and Grace failed to hide her smile. Suddenly Missouri's face grew serious and she reached out to take Sam's hand.

"Sam. Oh, honey, I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

Sam frowned at her and Dean almost visibly tensed up. Missouri knew more than they were quite comfortable with.

"And your father – he's missin'?"

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asked her, confused.

She smiled at him again. "Well, you were just thinkin' it just now."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, but Dean was more concerned with getting information about their father.

"Well, where is he?" he demanded. "Is he okay?"

Both Grace and Sam turned to look at her closely, but Missouri merely watched him sadly for a moment. "I don't know."

"Don't know?" Dean was beginning to look angry now. "You're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician?" Missouri grew just as aggravated as Dean. "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air," she explained. Silence fell for a moment and Missouri pursed her lips, observing them. "Sit, please," she told them eventually and as they took their places, Sam and Dean on the couch, Grace on the adjacent chair, she snapped out. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm gonna whack you with a spoon!"

Dean stared at her blankly for a second. "I didn't do anything!"

"But you were thinkin' about it," she informed him.

Dean raised his eyebrows in disbelief at Sam, but his brother only smiled in reply. As Sam began to question Missouri about their father and explain what they thought was going on in their old house, Grace sank further down in her chair.

Sitting in a nice comfy armchair was a pleasant change. A change from the back seat of the Impala, the sticky diner booths, the seedy motel rooms. All the things that she feared she was beginning to hate.

Not that they had ever been a perk exactly, just that the good things about this life seemed to be rapidly diminishing and because of that the bad things suddenly seemed so much worse.

Before, when John hadn't been missing, when Sam had been safe at Stanford, when psychic visions didn't send them half way across the country and back home, things had been different. John had always treated her as something breakable that needed protecting, and she had been fine with that. Grace knew that, really, she was vulnerable and more than a bit of a liability, and she also knew that John would look after her and would be ably aided by his eldest son.

Dean had protected her, but he had also talked to her. John wasn't a talker, in any sense of the word, and, while Dean had no wish to discuss his feelings, he wanted to chat. Talk of everyday things, things that he found funny, old films, weird facts of the case they were working, he wanted someone to report back to, to try out his one liners on. And, suddenly, Grace was there. Ready and disposed to chat, whenever she was awake. Helpless enough to give him the chance to act out some of his big brother protective role and intelligent and willing enough to make conversation. She helped him miss Sammy less and he had never admitted that to anyone, least of all himself. As far as he was concerned, no could ever or would ever replace Sam.

Now, though, Sam was back and there was no need for even a pseudo replacement. Sam, Dean could protect and banter happily with for hours. Sam knew almost as much as Dean did about hunting and had a diverse enough opinion to allow for debate. They made the perfect team, and suddenly Grace was dead weight, a package that required protection but no longer held any charm in and of itself. Grace was slowly beginning to realize it and she was once more renewing her resolve to leave.

If they knew what she was beginning to think, both Sam and Dean would contradict her completely. Sam enjoyed her company, liked talking to her and teasing her, glad to know that there was someone he could confide in about issues that strayed towards emotions. Dean would be less able to vocalize why he didn't want Grace to leave. He would say that it was too dangerous for her to be by herself, outside the range of their protection. But, really, to lose her everyday company – he didn't want that.

Missouri hugged Grace when they said goodbye. As she held the taller girl close she whispered in her ear.

"You stick with them, honey. He'll realize soon enough."

They pulled apart, Grace frowning down at her as Missouri squeezed her hands and nodded once.

As they drove away from Kansas, they were silent. Sam preoccupied with the knowledge that his vision had come true, just like the one he had had of Jess, and what did that mean exactly? Dean's thoughts centered on the only home he had ever really had, the one he was leaving behind him again, his mother that still protected him after all this time and the box of old photographs that was stashed behind his seat. Grace was staring at the back of his head, thinking over Missouri's last words to her and what they meant, what the psychic was trying to say, what she had seen in Grace's own mind that Grace herself was, as yet, unaware of.

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"That boy – he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea."

"Mary's spirit – do you really think she saved the boys?"

"I do. – John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won't you go talk to your children? And that poor girl, she needs someone's help."

"I want to. You have no idea how much I want to see them, all of them. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth."

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A/N: All I have to say is - YAY! JOHN! - I love him no matter how useless he is :)