Finding Grace

Chapter 15

       Grace is making a sandwich. Yep, Grace is making a sandwich, nothing too special about that. Suddenly, she stabs her knife into the countertop. She's boiling up with rage and sadness. Holding the countertop, she remembers the conversation with Dean a week ago.

       "Sam's gone, Grace," Dean told her, solemnly.
       The pain filled her heart like pouring cold water into a hot cup. She watched as Dean started to pack up some things. "And what about you?" She spat, "what are you doing?"
       "I'm leaving."
       "Leaving?!"
       "Yes-"
       "Here?!"
       "Here and hunting. I'm gunna start a life. An actual life."
       Grace clenched her fist and gritted her teeth, "Fuck you, Winchester. At least your brother cared. You're just like those stuck up angels," She barked.
      "Don't you dare compare me to those douchebags."
      "I just did."
      The heavy tension settled in with thick rage. "Have fun living a normal life," Grace scoffed.
      "Have fun being Bobby's royal pain in the ass, Grace," Dean spat and tossed the bag over his shoulder, walking out the front door.
     
       Grace fell to the ground, sobbing. Those damn Winchesters. It was too much. Three people leaving in a span of a month or so. Wrapping her arms around herself, she curls up into her mess.
       Heavy footsteps walk into the room then rush over to Grace. "You okay, gal?" Bobby rests a hand on Grace's shoulder.
      Shaking her head, Grace wipes her eyes quickly and takes a deep breath, "I'm good."
     "Here," he gets up and pulls the knife out of the countertop, "you sit tight and I'll make you the sandwich."
     "You don't have to-" She stands and dusts herself off.
     "Hush, just sit tight," He cuts her off as he grabs a different knife.
     She sits at the table and taps it lightly. "Those boys can be real pain in people's asses, even each other's. It's hard to change their mind or convince them otherwise once they have their mind on something," Bobby tells Grace, knowing she's really beat up by being left.
       "Yeah, I've noticed," Grace eyes venture out the window.
       "They're quite a couple of idjits,"
        She scoffs, "that they are,"
       Bobby sets a plate of pb+j sandwich in front of her and she's notices then turns to smile to Bobby. "Thanks," She tells him and Bobby nods.
      She nibbles on the sandwich as she looks out the window to the road. Bobby's mail box sits at the end of the driveway. She has been waiting for the reports to come back from the doctor's office. Sam would've been the one waiting, but now it's the only thing that she has been looking forward to since the fight.
       She sighs and sets the sandwich down, tapping her fingertips against the small, wooden table. She lacks the patience for a week of waiting. Just show up already.
       She's tired of staying put and not doing anything, again. That's all she ever did until a month or so ago. Now it was back to being Rapunzel or Fiona. Locked up and no real freedom.
       She picks up her sandwich and continues to eat. Bobby seems to walk about the house, phone always in hand. Phones would ring at different or the same times and it is a daily thing.
       "So," she speaks while covering her mouth slightly, "Are you like...a suicide hotline but for hunting tips and help?"
       Bobby turns and frowns, "I guess that's what it seems like."
       "The phones are also labeled various different places."
       "Well, you have to fake it to make it when you have to grab evidence in this job."
       She nods and smiles, "Can I try it?"
       "Well I'm not sure if you should..."
       "Oh yeah?"
      "Yeah, you gotta have intelligence on monsters and all those terrible things."
     "Who says I don't? I've been reading all the books you have here."
     "I never said you didn't. If you want to help with it, you can."
     Grace fists the air and smiles, "Cool."
     Bobby scoffs a laugh, "Just gotta tell them you're replacing me."
     Grace nods and finishes her sandwich. Getting up, she notices something out the window. The mail man putting something in the mailbox. She rushes to clean her plate and set it back in the cupboard before sprinting outside. It's here, it's finally here. She can feel her invisible wings flutter against the wind.
        She skids to a stop at the mailbox and pulls out the contents. There it is. The mail from the doctor's office. Running back in with the mail, she sets them down on the table then looks at her thing from the doctor's office.
        She stares at it. Should she open it? She feels bad. This was something she and Sam did together. It should be opened together. Yet, he's gone.
       Sighing, Grace slouches back into a chair. Her excited high has plummeted to a depressed low. He would want her to open it, though. It was one of the last thing they did alone before he left.
       "Should I open it?" Grace asks Bobby, looking up to him.
       "I think Sam would want you too," Bobby tells her and pats her shoulder.
       Grace nods and walks to the bathroom to have some privacy about it. She pulls open the tab and slides out the paper. As she starts to read it, she notices the front door open and a voice talk to Bobby.
       Is it true? Is she reading this right? Dropping her arm to her side, she leans back against the wall. Wow. Like gravity pulling her to the earth, she finds herself gliding out of the bathroom to where ever Bobby is. "Bobby, It-" She looks over to Sam in the doorway, smiling slightly.
        She rushes over and bear hugs him, "Sam,"
        "Hey there, Grace," he says, hugging back, slowly.
      She pulls away to hold up the papers to Sam, "You're...you're my dad."