Can You See Me Now?

Chapter 11: Flashback

“Ok, so the next thing I remember was the door cracked off the hinges and fell into the room and I saw this fugly demon-looking thing, and I knew deep down in my gut it was sent by purple-eyes.  It came up behind her, faster than anything I’d seen besides the evil bastard himself, and grabbed her at the throat, pulling her backwards into the hall, dragging her by the throat, her screams echoing off the walls as it pulled her into the room all the way at the end of the hall, door slamming shut as I heard her screams abruptly stop.  I knew it had killed her, but all I could think was I had to get out of there.  Struggling against the thick rope, I got one bloody wrist free, untied the other, and stumbled as quickly as I could to the garage.  My sight kept going in and out, and I prayed with all my heart I could get away from there before it came after me.  I grabbed my bike, and rode as fast as my numbing limbs could move, my eyes seeming to deceive me and make me think every movement was it coming after me.  I kept my eyes on the lights of the town as they kept coming closer and closer.  I was so sure I’d get to them and get help.  Enter the Winchesters, ready for a great night’s sleep and speeding faster than those hillbilly NASCAR drivers.  You know the rest from there.”  Grace smiles and shakes her head.

“What?” Dean inquires.

“I just realized.  I shouldn’t have run.  I mean, I should have, but it wasn’t sent there to hurt me per say, but anyone who hurt me.  The demonic bastard kept telling me how valuable I am, and how he can’t lose me.  He sent that evil son of a bitch to get rid of my mother because she was going to kill me.  It wouldn’t have hurt me.  Huh…” 

“So, Grace, is that why you, uh, can’t be…” Dean tiptoes around the subject at hand.

“In a bathtub, yes.  It’s a newfound traumatic fear, unfortunately.  My apologies for the inconveniences.”  Her head dips down, showing the frizzing ponytail she’s had in since they drove off from her house midday yesterday.

“Ah.” Dean walks across the room and tosses a granola bar at her.  “Well, you’re going to stay here, we’re going to the police station to talk to everyone we can and check out some dead bodies.  So, entertain yourself, whatever, but today, we’re going without you.  Sam and I will be back later, ok?  Stay out of trouble, will you?  For once?  And get some rest, ok?  You had a rather crappy night, I do think, and you need to rest and get your energy back.  You’re not going to do us any good tired and broken.  Got it?” 

“Sure.  I’ll be good, promise.”  She suddenly felt like she was being babysat rather than in a partnership with the guys.  She also didn’t realize until now how spiffy the guys looked.  They had their hair combed and slicked back, each sporting a cheap yet cared for suit and tie, shiny shoes, and (inevitably) fake IDs.  “Have fun.”  Grace sarcastically hollers after them before the door slams shut, leaving her alone with a germ-infested telephone, crappy television, and her own dark and depressing thoughts.

“Ready to actually work instead of babysit now, Sammy?”  Dean asks, glancing over at his strangely silent counterpart.

“What?  Oh, yeah.  Sure.”  Dean stares at his brother for a moment before looking away, backing the Impala out of the parking space and taking it onto the road.  Nevertheless, Sam can’t stop thinking about last night, waking up and finding nothing but an empty room and empty bed…

*Flashback*

Not being able to sleep the past few nights, it was no shock Sam couldn’t sleep tonight, either.  Lightly snoozing without fully delving into his self-conscious, He heard a cell phone go off, vibrating quietly, yet loud enough to wake him from his on and off slumber.  Pretty sure it wasn’t his own phone going off, the youngest Winchester peeked through his lids to see Grace pulling her cellular from her front jean pocket.  She glanced over at him, and he quickly shut his eyes, not wanting her to think he had awakened.  It worked, as she padded quietly out the door, probably barefoot, not wanting to stop and slip on the grungy shoes she wore here.  Too curious to contain himself, Sam sat up and shuffled over to the front window, bare-chested, showing off his anti-possession tattoo on his left pectoral, jeans hanging loosely off his hips, toes frigid on the worn carpeting.  He stood there, in front of the window, watching Grace kick inevitably sharp stones and throw her phone deep into the blackness of the bordering thickets and forest.  ‘I should go out there…I wonder what happened,’ Sam thought, pained with the realization he knows virtually nothing about this poor girl, and it would most likely be quite awkward to just go and ask what’s wrong.  After all, she had thought he was asleep.

So instead, Sam stood watch like a guard dog or anxious puppy, nose to the glass, ready to help if the situation arose.  His eyes followed Grace, who almost floated over to the picnic table beside the woods.  She was digging in her pocket for something…what would she be searching for?  She just threw her phone, so what is she…

The blade of the knife glinted in the light of the moon and streetlight, causing a glare to reflect the tears carving a pattern down her face, dripping from her chin onto the hilt of the blade.  She switched hands, held the knife in her right-probably dominant-hand, and brought it down angrily on her pale, ghostly left forearm, making a river of red visible from the motel room window.  It took only a second for Sam to have realized what she was doing, and once he did, he came undone, borderline crazy, even.

“DEAN!!!!  DEAN, COME QUICK!!!  GET THE BANDAGES!!”  Sam, without giving it a second thought, ran outside, barefoot himself, dashed across the piercing gravel and over to the limp girl.  He took the knife, deposited it into his pocket, and picked up the unconscious teenager, rushing back to the motel room.  He figured he would look for her phone later if he had time, but right now, Sam was dumbfounded and stunned.  Why would she ever do such a thing?  From what she had told them, Grace hadn’t experienced the best life, but how could she just want to throw it away without a single thought?

Entering the room once again, Sam saw Dean, groggy and wiping sleep from his eyes, the first aid kit in his left hand.

“What’s wrong, Sammy…?”  He asked, but once he looked at his brother, he knew it was a stupid question.  Sam, who was now sitting precariously on the edge of the bed, held Grace, a large gash, at least 5 or 6 inches long and deep as hell, on her left forearm, blood gushing like a river.  Dean knew from experience she had more than likely hit an artery and needed medical attention now or she wouldn’t make it.  So, as quickly as he could while keeping a straight and serious yet calm face for Sammy, Dean stitched and bandaged her up, cursing occasionally because the absurd amount of blood made it all the more difficult.  However, Dean had to do this, not only for Grace, but for his poor distraught brother, who couldn’t pull his eyes from Grace’s pale face even though her blood was smeared across his abdomen and had stained his jeans so badly there was no way he was going to be able to Oxyclean it out.  So, after he finished fixing her up and assured his brother she would be ok in due time with some rest, he made Sammy go back to bed, not leaving to put the first aid kit back in the car until he was sure his little brother was at least in a light slumber.  However, Sam wouldn’t sleep unless Grace was beside him because, as Sam had voiced, ‘she needs to be watched and cared for.’  Sometimes Dean thought Sam was too emotional and kind for his own good.  However, with that, Sammy slept beside Grace as she lay pale as a sheet, bandaged arm laid out in front of her, Sam behind her, arm circling her waist and chin resting gently on the top of her head, not even bothering to change out of his dirty jeans, her knife still in his pocket, hilt visible.  As Dean deposited the medical equipment back into the trunk and trotted slowly back to the cramped bathtub, he swore that tomorrow he was going to tell Grace just how much she scared his brother and not to ever do that again if she didn’t want her ass seriously kicked.