**WARNING** - stronger bad language in this chapter than there has been before, hope that doesn't bother anyone. It was required :)

Chapter 15

Interlude 2 – 'Sink in good oblivion, and in the morning wake like a new-opened flower.' (D. H. Lawrence)

"Grace."

This was going to be something serious. It was all there in Sam's low, concerned voice and soft eyes. In the fact that it was Sam talking, not Dean. It was always the younger of the brothers who tackled difficult issues first.

"Grace."

Sam leaned forward slightly to try and get a glimpse of her face. She was turned away from him, eyes shuttered and mouth tightly compressed. They were sitting side by side on the wooden steps of Bobby's porch, Dean standing next to them, his back lent against the wooden fencing that surrounded the porch, deliberately looking at neither of them, staring straight ahead over the carcasses of Bobby's cannibalized cars.

"Grace, you must have realized that you've been sleeping for longer."

All Grace wanted to do was shout that she didn't have to realize anything, actually, but that would be childish. And ignoring Sam was taking all her concentration in any case.

"Every time you go to sleep it takes longer for you to wake up than it did the time before."

Grace still didn't respond and Sam seemed to have run out of words. He tried tagging his brother into the conversation, but Dean was still refusing to look at either of them. The silence grew longer and heavier, Sam the only one even moving as his glance darted between his companions.

Finally, Grace got suddenly to her feet, muscles protesting after their long inaction. As she turned to go back into the house she couldn't help but meet Sam's eye.

"It's ok, Sam." His mouth opened immediately to reply, probably wanting to talk it through, and she did what she could to forestall him, drawing flippancy to her aide. "I'll just not sleep."

And she left them both. Strode quickly into the house to pack while Sam called after her. How she couldn't just not sleep, that that was no answer at all, that they needed to talk about this, demanding why Dean wasn't helping.

His brother refused to be drawn out on the subject however, merely giving Sam a look, saying, "Just drop it, Sammy", and following Grace into the house.

Not more than an hour later they were on the road and there was silence between them again.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

As the miles passed, they relaxed and began to talk, only of the most superficial things, and even Dean's music helped them get back into their normal routine. Over the next couple of days, however, Grace was as good as her word. She didn't sleep.

It was hard, and she became grumpy and silent fairly quickly, only copious amounts of coffee doing anything to improve her mood. This was no permanent solution and she knew it, but it felt better than giving in and actually acknowledging the panic that was rising within her, the fear that she was going to turn into some sort of comatose vegetable. And with no medical reasoning behind it.

When her last nerve snapped, however, staying awake didn't seem like a better option compared to anything and all she wanted to do was lie down, anywhere, and sleep for weeks.

They stopped for coffee and gas, and while Dean filled the car and he and Sammy discussed their latest case, Grace jumped out to get the drinks. Balancing the three cups in her two hands wasn't that easy and she walked slowly, staring down at them.

"Ow, fuck!"

Some guy had come out of nowhere, crashed right into her and she now had hot coffee seeping through her top.

"Christ, it's called looking where you're going, sweetheart!"

At the furious exclamation, Grace looked up and met the eyes of the guy who had walked into her. Within seconds she was just as blazingly angry as he was and all pain from the scalding liquid was forgotten.

"It's called getting out of my way, you fucking jerk."

She'd taken a step forward and was all but squaring up to him over the carnage of the split cups of coffee, ignoring the fact he was a almost as tall as Sam and about two and a half times broader than she was, when there was a hand on her arm and Dean was standing next to her.

"Grace," he said, low and warningly, watching her closely. She didn't respond for a moment. "Go get changed, I'll get the drinks."

She stayed staring at the man for a moment longer, before shooting Dean one glance and stalking over to the car. Dean watched her go, turning back to the guy in front of him as Grace bundled herself into the back of the Impala.

"Sorry 'bout that, she's had some bad news."

It seemed for a moment that the guy wasn't going to accept the apology, but Dean smiled, and something about that combined with the clear anxiety in his eyes as he looked back towards the car again, changed the stranger's mind. Within minutes he was apologizing himself and offering to pay for the coffees and hoping Grace was ok and should he go and apologize to her?

Dean did not think that was a good idea, but accepted his offer of the replacement coffees and they walked together back towards the Starbucks.

He didn't return to the Impala before he had fresh cups of coffee for them all and had waved the guy off on his way. Sam was leaning up against the bonnet, whether on guard duty for Grace changing in the back of the car or having been shouted at, Dean couldn't tell. He handed his brother one of the cups and went round to the driver's door so he could lean in and pass Grace hers, the lure of hot coffee would be enough to overcome any annoyance she might feel if she was still changing.

Sitting down fully in the seat, he waited until she had pulled her sweater over her head before handing over the drink. She took it greedily and silently, removing the cap to blow on the liquid until it was cool enough to drink.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Grace staring down at the dark coffee and Dean taking sips from his, his body angled towards her and his legs still hanging out of the car. It was clear to him that Sam was giving them "a moment", hoping that Dean would somehow be able to say or do something that would help Grace, calm where Sam had only succeeded in panicking.

"So, Gracie May," Dean attempted a casual tone and didn't look at her as Grace flicked her eyes up at him, narrowing them slightly in annoyance. "You've got a pretty dirty mouth on you there."

"I have no idea whatsoever why I decided it was a good idea to even mention in passing that I had a middle name."

She sounded pissed, but he didn't mind. Pissed was better than apathetic, a reaction was better than silence.

"Yeah," he agreed, swinging his legs into the car and gesturing to Sam with his head. "That was a mistake."

As Sam got into the car, Dean looked back in the rear view mirror and smiled at her. Try as she might to carry on looking annoyed with him, she couldn't help a small smile in return and turned quickly to look out of the window.

They pulled out of the gas station and Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother in question as they pulled onto the road. Dean smiled very slightly in return, no victory to report but better than before.

It wasn't long until Grace was sound asleep, head leaning heavily against the Impala's window.

A/N: I wanted to point out that I know that Bobby doesn't come into the Supernatural world until the end of series one and this is sometime after episode 14 - but, I liked the idea of them having the comfort of Bobby's house and presence behind them while trying to have this difficult conversation and he doesn't actually come into it, and I can rejig the dialogue in the later episode to fit in so... I left it. Basically I ADORE Bobby and want him in every episode. If he ever gets killed off I am going to be SO unhappy. Warning to Kripke there. Anyway - hope you didn't mind!