Saving Grace

Are You There God? It's Me -- The Witnesses

~*****~

The basement is teaming with several people shouting and saying I left them to die. The door upstairs rattles, but it doesn't stop the endless chatter. My face is burning with scalding hot tears that seem to pour endlessly from my eyes. "Lottie--" Dean's voice bellows. I gaze upwards and stop the sob burning in my throat.

"Basement! Hurry!" I shout. My voice is choked and tight.

I can hear him stomping down the stairs. He halts at the bottom and gazes around, wide eyed. "Son of bitch--" He murmurs before swinging the tire iron at the spirits rushing towards him. When everything silences, I just gaze up at Dean, sniffling. "Come on, we got to get to Bobby's." He says firmly, and holds out his hand. I nod and grasp onto it before curling Mary closer.

"All those... those spirits. They're all... people I knew." I murmur softly.

"I know, baby." Dean says as he leads me to the Impala and helps me in.

Bobby is nose deep in books when I arrive and I move to help him. "So, they're all people we know?" Sam asks.

"Not just know. People we couldn't save." Dean says. "Hey, I saw something on Meg. Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?"

"I don't think so." Sam shrugs.

"It was like a-a mark on her hand-- almost like a brand." Dean says.

I hum. "Yeah, the spirits that came for me had the same thing. Even..." My eyes start to burn again as I think about the little boy.

"I saw a mark on Henriksen, too." Sam nods.

"What'd it look like?" Bobby asks.

I grasp a pencil and toss it to Sam as he asks Bobby for paper. Sam draws it out and shows it to Dean. "That's it." Dean nods.

"I may have seen this before." Bobby nods. My grasp on Mary instinctively tightens as the radio switches on. "We got to move." Bobby says. "Follow me."

"Okay, where are we going?" I ask quickly.

Bobby just stares at me. "Someplace safe. You idjit."

I pout and grasp at a pile of books and curl it under my free arm. We follow him into his basement and towards the large iron door that looks vaguely familiar. The door creaks open. The familiarity hits me and I hurry towards it, bustling past the two Winchesters and towards the small bed to lay Mary down. Dean and Sam are starting to look like fish with how wide their mouths are open. "Bobby, is this--" Sam trails off.

"Solid iron. Completely coated in salt." He says. "100% ghost proof."

"You built a panic room?" Sam asks.

Bobby shrugs. "Built one for Lottie, too." Bobby says.

I smack a kiss onto his cheek. "Bobby." Dean starts. The old, gruff man gazes at Dean skeptically. "You're awesome."

"You boys get started on the guns. Bobby and I will handle the books." I explain softly.

~*****~

It's silent for a long time-- save for the occasional infant noises. But other than that, no one speaks. "See, this is why I can't get behind God." Dean says out of the blue.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks as I glance up from my book.

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is." Dean shrugs. "There's no rhyme or reason-- just random, horrible evil-- I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?"