CHAPTER NINE — CRASH AND SALT AND BURN
phantom traveler — part one

"Did I just make a pun?" — grace winchester

GRACE'S DREAMS WERE ALWAYS NIGHTMARES BUT SHE SLEPT NONETHELESS. At this point it wasn't about whether or not her dream was bad or good, it was more about how bad it was. And fortunately, her night's sleep wasn't too bad, for her standards anyhow. She flinched slightly in her sleep, eyes screwed tightly shut as she crushed the bed sheet into her fist. Her Dad was lying next to her, like he usually did, with him under the covers and with her on top of them. There was a small blanket draped over her form as she slept to keep her warm in the draughty motel room. Apparently her Dad wasn't feeling the cold as she was as much of the covers were gathered by his knees.

Twisting her head from side to side, Grace mumbled to herself as she slumbered. Dean had one arm resting on the pillow, and near where he had stashed his knife just in case, whilst the other hung lightly over his daughter's shoulder. Keeping her close always seemed to relax him which allowed him to slip into unconsciousness much easier.

After hearing the motel door creak open, a half asleep Dean slowly reached under his pillow to retrieve his knife.

But as soon as he turned around, he found his brother staring back at him and then let go of the grip he had on the blade and withdrew his hand from under the pillow. The sudden movement from her Dad woke up Grace who squinted as she adjusted to the light.

"Morning, sunshines." Greeted Sam as he carried a tray of coffee and a bag of food into the room.

Dean let out a groan as he sat up slightly. Grace, meanwhile, had adjusted to the incoming light and then threw the blanket off her small body. Groggily, her Dad inquired. "What time is it?"

"Uh, it's about five forty-five." Sam answered as he took a sip of his coffee. At hearing the time, Grace let out a small groan and went to retrieve her blanket in order to go back to sleep. But it was on the floor now and too far from the bed to reach, so she didn't even try.

"In the morning?" Complained Dean as he wanted nothing more than to fall back into his soft pillow and drift into a nice calm dream. Sam nodded in response and then Dean returned rhetorically. "Where does the day go?" Pulling himself up, Dean then turned to look at his brother questioningly whilst he was also tugging Grace upright. The girl was lifted into a seating position before dropping her head on her Dad's shoulder — which he didn't object to. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours."

Seeing right through his brother as per usual, Dean scoffed. "Liar. 'Cause me and Gracie were up at three, trying to braid that bird's nest of hers," Grace gave a tired smile at the memory, because even though they ultimately failed, it ended up being fun, then her Dad continued, "and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial."

"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV." Sam smirked before reaching into the brown paper bag and pulling out a croissant which he offered to Grace. The girl turned her smile to him as she accepted the pastry and started to bite into it.

Dean raised his eyebrow. "When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

"I don't know, a little while, I guess." Her Uncle tried to brush off with a shrug which only made the other two Winchesters even more concerned. Grace took another bite of her croissant and then frowned, cheeks full of pastry. "It's not big deal." Oh, it most certainly was. Dean then protested, but Sam continued. "Look, I appreciate your concern—"

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you." Interrupted Dean, lying through his teeth because Grace knew he was worried, just like her. "It's your job to keep our asses alive, so we need you sharp."

Grace swallowed her mouthful before she turned to her Uncle who had just shrugged at his brother's words. "I'm concerned." She told him and the Sam could tell she was by the look on her face, so he tore his gaze from her. "I know you're still having nightmares about Jess." Both men looked to her, surprised, so Grace casually shrugged. "I'm having them too."

Then Sam crossed the room and sat on his bed, facing his brother and niece. He then took a coffee from the tray he was holding before handing it to Dean who took it gratefully. Lastly, he removed the cartoon of juice from his breakfast collection and gave it to Grace who was finishing up her croissant. Sam let out a heavy, burdened sigh. "Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you."

"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that."

"So, what? All this it... never keeps you up at night?" Sam challenged with a dubious eyebrow. Dean just shook his head causing Grace to look up at him in disbelief. "Never? You're never afraid?" He pressed.

Grace watched as her Dad shrugged his shoulders. "No, not really." Reaching over, Sam stuffed his hand under Dean's pillow before withdrawing a rather large hunting knife from under it. He arched his eyebrow further as he proved his point. Grace stared at the knife, confused, had that been there the whole time? She certainly hadn't felt it. Dean snatched the blade back from his brother and replaced it under the pillow. "That's not fear. That is precaution."

"'Always be prepared'." Grace recited as she finally lifted her head from her Father's shoulder. Both men turned to look at her in bewilderment, so the girl just shrugged with a small grin on her face. "I met some boys in weird uniforms once, they told me about it."

"Boys!—" Dean stared at her, wide eyed. "When was this?" But before Grace could tell her story of her encounter with some Boy Scouts, her Dad's phone suddenly rang.

Shaking his head in amusement, Sam smirked. "Saved by the bell." He tiredly whispered and Grace frowned having not understood his reference which just made Sam's smirk grow. Dean sent her a look as if to tell her that this wasn't over before he answered his phone and raised it to his ear. Both Grace and Sam listened to a one-sided conversation and the former lit up in recognition at the mention of a poltergeist as it was one of the first cases she had been involved with. Which meant Jerry Panowski was most likely on the other side of the phone because unlike her Father, Grace remembered them all, all the people she had helped save and all the ones they were too late to rescue.

Apparently Jerry had a case for them, something bad and possibly a lot worse than a poltergeist, which didn't sound good in the slightest. He requested to meet in person and that was when Grace knew it definitely was something bad. She drank from her juice carton as her Dad agreed to Jerry's terms, glancing to his family as he did so. Then the Winchesters were on the road yet again, with a new case, new people and a new monster to hunt.

Just an average day for Grace Winchester.

THE WINCHESTERS SPENT THE NEXT FEW HOURS IN THE IMPALA AS THEY SPED DOWN THE ROAD TOWARDS WHERE JERRY WANTED TO MEET THEM. During that time Grace just bopped head along with whatever music her Dad was playing, sometimes getting so lost in the music that it made both Dean and Sam laugh at that they thought to be ridiculous dance moves. Grace would just laugh along with them before finally settling down as the song came to an end, only to restart the cycle a few songs later. Either way, their drive to the meeting place was certainly not boring.

Grace quickly decided she liked planes.

Upon arrival at the meeting spot, Grace was surprised to find it was what was called a 'hangar' and that it was full of planes and other aircraft. She had never been on a plane — that she could remember — so it was definitely on her bucket list. Dean was the one to suggest making a bucket list, of all the things that she should have done by her age, but he quickly regretted it as soon the list was too long to fit in her pocket. So, that idea was soon scrapped.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick." Jerry started gratefully. "I ought to be doing you guys a favour, not the other way around." He turned to look at Sam as Grace's gaze remained transfixed by the metal winged vehicles around her. "Dean and your Dad really helped me out." Grace quickly whipped her head around to give Jerry a confused look, so he added with an amused smile. "And Grace, of course, she helped too."

"Yeah, they told me." Sam confirmed with a small nod of his head. "It was a poltergeist?"

A worker passing by, having overheard their conversation, echoed. "Poltergeist? Man, I love that movie." Grace looked up at her Father with a perplexed frown. It was a film? Dean, having noticed her glance, mouthed 'tell-you-later' down to his daughter before returning his attention to Jerry, just as the man snapped back at the worker.

"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking." He ordered before swiftly spinning his back around to the Winchesters. "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore out house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you, Grace and your Dad, I probably wouldn't be alive." Admitted Jerry as Grace thought back to that night. It was one of her first cases as Grace Winchester so it was also one of the first chances she had to use her abilities. With her help, she managed to slow down the poltergeist enough for John and Dean to destroy it. "Your Dad said you were off at college. Is that right?" He asked Sam, looking at him now.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I was. I'm—taking some time off." He decided on as Grace fished out a pretzel from her pocket and popped it into her mouth. Noticing this, Dean held his hand out expectantly so Grace smiled, mouth still full of pretzel, as she placed a few on his outstretched palm. Dean grinned joyfully as he too stuffed one into his awaiting mouth.

"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell." Jerry told Sam who suddenly looked up in surprise. "He talked about you all the time."

"He did?"

Jerry let out a laugh as he grinned at the middle Winchester. "Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't." He told them and Grace wasn't surprised by the news, after all, he wasn't even answering their calls let alone anyone else's. "How's he doing, anyway?"

The Winchesters exchanged an alerted look before Dean turned to Jerry and answered casually. "He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now." Which wasn't exactly a lie, to their knowledge anyhow.

"Well, we're missing the old man," Jerry nodded at Dean's words. Grace missed her Grandpa, sure, but it turned out she was missing him a lot less than she had expected. That didn't mean she wasn't still worried about him, because she just wanted to know whether or not he was okay. "but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?"

Her Dad laughed as her Uncle shook his head at the man's words. "No, not by a long shot."

Grace looked over at Sam with a bright encouraging smile. "Don't say that Uncle Sam, you're amazing. And you're a really good hunter."

Clapping his brother on the shoulder, Dean smirked. "And when is Gracie ever wrong?" He asked his brother who was tilting his face away as a red tint began to appear on his cheeks.

Jerry looked back at the Winchesters who were currently chuckling quietly amongst themselves. "I got something I want you guys to hear." He announced causing them all to break from their moment to turn to man, intrigued.

Then they proceeded to follow Jerry into his office which wasn't too far from where they currently were. Sam took one of the two available seats and then Dean gestured for Grace to take the other. When she tried to protest, he gave her the look to end all looks which quickly made her close her mouth and sit in the empty chair. Dean stood behind her and leant against her chair, his hands gripping the back tightly. Jerry was busy playing with something on his desk as the Winchesters prepared themselves for the case he was going to give them. Grace could feel it in her gut (not because of her psychic thing, more of a hunter's instinct) that this was going to be a big case which just made her nervous as to what it could be.

"I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." Jerry stated and he reached over to slide a CD into the player. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours." Then the CD started to play and the Winchesters leant forwards in their places as they listened intently.

"Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485 — immediate instruction help!"

"United Britannia 2485, I copy your message — may be experiencing some mechanical failure..."

With a loud whooshing sound, the recording came to an end. And then the trio looked up at Jerry, slightly confused. From what they could hear, it did sound like mechanical failure, despite all the static and distortion. Still, there was something not right about the recording (and this was Grace's psychic powers talking) and it wasn't good.

"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south." Jerry then went on to explain. "Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why." He shook his head sadly. "Over two hundred people on board?"

Grace then piped up. "Did any survive?" She inquired hopefully.

Nodding his head, Jerry then continued. "Only seven got out alive." Only seven? All those poor people. Okay, so maybe flying wasn't going to be on Grace's bucket list for now. "Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh... well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."

Sam raised an eyebrow at Jerry's words. "You don't think it was?" He queried.

"No, I don't." He answered without any hesitation.

Chuck is lucky to have a friend like Jerry having his back, Grace thought as she kept her eyes locked onto the man in front of them.

Sam then started to list off. "Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors—" Jerry quickly agreed. He must have really wanted their help. Which told Grace that not only did he care about his friend, that whatever they were about to go up against, it wasn't nice.

"—And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Inquired her Dad and Grace tilted her head curiously as that was a question she too wanted answered.

Jerry paused for a brief moment before informing them. "The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage... fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse." The fact he said 'fellas' meant he thought Grace wasn't going to be involved, that she was just going to sit on the side-lines. But despite her Dad constantly trying to keep her out of danger, that wasn't going to happen. "No way I've got that kind of clearance."

A frown formed on Dean's lips." No problem."

"But could you please tell us where that warehouse is?" Grace added with an innocent smile as she looked over at Jerry. Because there was no way in hell she was just going to sit around and let her Dad and Uncle do all the work without her.

GRACE BALANCED ON THE EDGE OF THE HOOD OF THE IMPALA, LEGS DANGLING FREELY OVER THE EDGE AS SHE AND HER UNCLE SAM WAITED FOR HER DAD TO RETURN. Making fake IDs was an art. Well, according to her Father it was. So, Grace assumed that was why it was taking longer than her Uncle had expected for him to create what they were going to need to continue this case. If he was making Grace a badge too, then maybe Sam could've excused how long his brother was taking.

Finally, Dean exited the Copy Jack with a proud smirk plastered across his lips. He greeted a woman who passed him going into the store before strolling up to where his daughter and brother were waiting for him.

"You've been in there forever." Sam pointed out with a groan.

Holding up two IDs in his hand, Dean widened his grin as he presented them to his brother. "You can't rush perfection." He stated and Grace hopped off the hood of the Impala to stand by her Dad's side.

"Homeland security?" Sam arched his eyebrow questioningly as he read the text on the badge. Then, he reached forwards and took his badge from his brother and the trio headed to the side of the car. "That's pretty illegal, even for us."

Dean just shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." He reasoned and Grace had to admit, he made a decent point. Opening the car door, Grace got into the back of Baby and then Dean and Sam slipped into the front seats. Immediately after sitting back down in the driver's seat, Dean turned to his brother and asked. "All right, so, what do you got?"

From his pocket, Sam pulled out a recording from the plane. "Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder." He informed them. Grace leaned forwards in her seat after her Dad gestured for Sam to continue. "Listen." The middle Winchesters pressed play on the recorder and held it up for them all to hear.

A scratchy, slightly distorted, voice came through the recorder. Her Uncle having sifted through the audio file to pick out the supernatural layer hiding beneath. "No survivors!"

"'No survivors'?" Dean repeated and his face scrunched up in thought. "What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors."

Pressing her lips together, Grace went into her mind to try and figure out what was going on. 'No survivors'? It certainly was something. There was a moment of silence before Grace piped up hesitantly. "Maybe it still wants that. Maybe it'll go after who's left." She theorised and both Dean and Sam turned to her, confused.

Dean glanced between his brother and daughter before asking them. "So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?" That certainly was one theory.

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships," Sam mused as Grace turned to her left and immediately started to rummage through her Uncle's things. And he didn't even try and stop her. "like phantom travellers." Dean hummed at Sam's words just whilst Grace was pulling her Grandfather's journal from the duffel bag and instantly started flicking through it. "Or remember flight 401?"

Gracie tilted her head, clueless to what he was referencing to. "No."

Dean glanced at his daughter before recalling. "It was the plane that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights." Woah. That certainly was something. Amazed by what she had just heard, Grace then returned to John's journal in hope of finding something useful to their current situation. So far though, nothing.

"Maybe we got a similar deal." Agreed Sam, concluding his theory.

With a sigh, Grace put down John's journal and dropped her shoulders. "I couldn't find anything in here." She informed them. From the information they had so far, Grace couldn't make any match inside John's journal, but to be fair, not everything out there was documented down in the leather notebook. There wasn't enough space for it all, for starters. But, that didn't mean she found nothing. There was something else in the book that had called to her, she didn't know what it was, but for some reason she believed that whatever they were up against was in fact encased in the old, coarse leather.

"All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?"

Sam quickly answered as he stared down at the list of names in his hands. A gift from Jerry. "Third on the list. Max Jaffey." Grace pushed herself to the edge of her seat so she could lean over her Uncle's shoulder and read the names of all the survivors on the list. As she focused on the seven names, she couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that something was wrong.

One day Gracie would like it if she actually got an explanation instead of just a feeling that everything wasn't good. If she did, it would make hunting so much easier.

"Why him?" Dean queried curiously, wondering if there was a specific reason behind his brother's choice. 

"Well, for one, he's from around here." Sam explained and he then folded up the list and slipped it back into his pocket. "And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did."

Grace, being the expert on seeing weird things out of the three of them, frowned slightly and then questioned curiously. "Why him?" She echoed her Father's previous words.

Sighing, Sam replied as he turned back slightly to look at Grace. "Well, I spoke to his mother. And she told me where to find him."

"Where?"

Sam gave his family a look, knowing that neither of them would have guessed the answer about to fall from his lips. He then replied. "Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital."

THE FIRST TIME GRACE HEARD OF THE TERM 'PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL' SHE BELIEVED IT TO BE A SPECIAL HOSPITAL JUST FOR PSYCHICS. Only when her Dad told her truth did she realise that that wasn't the case. Using their new fake IDs, her Dad and Uncle managed to sneak into the Hospital to interview Max, one of the 2485 survivors. Grace, as per usual, remained inside the Impala as the male Winchesters went off to work on the case without her.

And as Grace sat outside the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital, all she could think about was that if it weren't for her Dad taking her in she would most likely be in a place like that. A place where they would think she was crazy for the things she could see. Times like these made her really appreciate the fact that it was the Winchesters who found her that day and not just some random individual who wouldn't know what to do with the sudden appearance of her psychic abilities.

After interviewing Max, her Dad and Uncle returned to the Impala and filled Grace in on what they had collected. Apparently a man was capable of opening the emergency exit on the plane — something was humanely impossible — which lead them to the assumption that what they were dealing with wasn't human and certainly wasn't a spirit.

They pulled up in front a house, George Phelps' house, and came to a stop. From what information they could gather, this house belonged to the man that had opened the impossible door and they were there to find out as much as they could so they could try and figure out what they were fighting. "So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C." Sam announced as they all looked out of the windows to study the house.

"Hmm. Man, I don't care how strong you are." Scoffed Dean as the trio exited the vehicle. They either didn't see Grace get out of the Impala, or didn't care, because she was honestly expecting her Dad to tell her to get back inside the vehicle. "Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."

"Not if you're human." Sam stated matter-of-factly as Grace followed the two towards the home of the supposed cause of the crash. "But maybe this guy, George, is something else. Some kind of creature, maybe in human form."

Grace thought back to what both her Dad and Uncle had said about Max's statement. Some part of it wasn't sitting right (well, it all wasn't but there was one part in particular) and Grace couldn't shake that feeling. And then there was John's journal. The small psychic raked her brain as she tried to recall the facts from John's journal. Black eyes? Now, where had she read about that?

"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean deadpanned as he arched an eyebrow at the large and neatly-kept house before them. It was a nice home, white picket fence and all, and it looked normal. Grace took another step forwards, only for Dean to stick his arm out and prevent her from moving any further. "Stay here, Gracie." The girl frowned in disappointment having thought she was being allowed to join her Dad and Uncle on this one. "We won't be long."

Grace nodded her head in acceptance. "Okay." She started to walk back to the Impala but then turned back to the other two Winchesters. "Good luck." They returned her words with thin grateful smiles as they walked up to the steps and towards the house. Then, Grace watched as they were welcomed into the house, leaving her alone with Baby.

It was ten minutes later that the Winchester brothers exited the Phelps home. At the sight of them heading back to the Impala, Grace quickly left Baby's side and hurried out to join them. Dean smiled softly as he watched his daughter run up to them whilst his brother was busy frowning in thought. "I mean, it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense."

"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified." Agreed Dean who reached out for Grace's hand as she arrived by their sides. "You know, what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage."

Grace grinned excitedly. "There might be a clue there."

"Exactly."

Sam nodded as he mulled over his brother's suggestion. "Okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part."

Looking over at her Uncle, Grace inquired as she widened her grin. "Does that mean we're going shopping?" Shopping was not usually her thing, but she always enjoyed watching her Dad try on all different clothes and sometimes she too would put on a little runway show when she was picking out an outfit. It had become their little secret thing they liked to do when John was out, just them.

"Yeah, Gracie, it does."

GRACE SAT ON A SMALL POUFFE AS SHE WATCHED AS HER DAD AND UNCLE FLICKED THROUGH THE COLLECTION OF SUITS ON THE RAIL. In her hand were a collection of ties that she was examining and trying to pick from as Dean and Sam scanned for suits. It appeared her Uncle was having much more like than her Dad finding a suit, which was surprising considering how tall he was. Grace shook her head at one of the ties before tossing into the pile of rejects and then returning to the ones she had left.

"Gracie, what do you think?" The nine-year-old looked up at her name to see her Uncle standing there holding a suit up to his body.

There was a brief pause as Grace stared at the suit against her Uncle before shaking her head dismissively. "It doesn't suit you." Dean snorted and then it took Grace a moment or two to realise why. "Did I just make a pun?" She asked excitedly and the two other Winchesters laughed at the proud, joyful smile on her face.

Sam slid the suit back onto the rail before lifting up another. "What about this?" He asked and Grace smiled brightly with two thumbs-up in approval.

Grace then turned to her collection of ties before selecting the one she thought best went with the suit in his hands and then offered it to her Uncle. "Here, Uncle Sam." Smiling gratefully, the man took the tie and wrapped it around the suit hanger. Then, Grace moved her gaze and attention to her Father who was still stuck trying to find a suit. "It's your turn, now, Dad." Pushing herself off the pouffe, Grace moved over to where her Dad was stood, staring at the suits blankly. She smiled encouragingly before looking at the selection in front of her.

"I can't find a decent one." Groaned Dean in annoyance. Grace then took his hand in her own as she used her spare one to go through the suits in front of her. Dean watched as his daughter looked through the suits and with each one she said a dismissive 'no' before going onto the next. Finally, she came to a stop and smiled. However, she couldn't reach the rail and instead tugged on her Dad's hand and gestured to the suit she had found.

The man removed the suit from the rail and looked down at Grace who was staring up at him happily. "That's the one."

Glancing over to Sam, who was currently looking for a nice pair of shoes, he raised his eyebrow only for his brother to give him a thumbs-up in response. "Grace's right, that's the one." He agreed with a grin.

"Really?"

"Really." Both Grace and Sam repeated.

Letting go of her Dad's hand, Grace went back over to the pouffe and then returned with a tie clutched between her fingers. "This one works." Hesitantly, Dean took the tie from his daughter and held it up against the suit. He had to admit, she was right, it was a decent combo.

Sam let out an amused chuckle. "You might have yourself a little fashion designer on your hands, Dean."

There were quite a few things Dean could see his daughter being when she grew up and strangely, fashion designer was not on that list. Still, it was better than growing up and becoming a hunter. He wanted her to leave and go to college, be as normal as she could possibly be. "Yeah." Dean managed a smile before adding sarcastically. "And maybe she can practice on some ghosts, you know, spice up their undead style."

Grace let out a giggle and turned to her Dad. "I think I would make a good fashion designer."

Then they went over to till where they paid for their rental suits and the headband Grace had picked out for herself and changed in the back of the store. Sure, Dean quite liked the look his daughter had picked out when he saw it, but now it was on him, he didn't think it looked as great. Grace, on the other hand, thought it looked better on. The trio exited the store, smartly dressed and ready to sneak into the NTSB warehouse, as they strolled back to where the Impala was parked.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers." Dean complained as he fiddled with the knot of his tie.

"No, you don't." Argued Sam before continuing with a mischievous smirk. "You look more like a... seventh-grader at his first dance."

Grace piped up with a kind smile. "I think you look great, Dad. It suits you." This time she used the pun on purpose and she swore she saw his lips lift slightly.

Then Uncle Sam added. "You want into that warehouse or not?"

Dean sighed in defeat as the trio entered the vehicle and got ready to drive off to the warehouse. His brother was right. If they wanted to pass as Homeland Security, they were going to need to dress smart and his outfit could have been a lot worse. He really might have a little fashion designer on his hands.

Gripping the wheel, Dean pulled Baby away from the side of the road and then drove them towards the warehouse and where the wreckage of flight 2485 was waiting for them.

Welcome to chapter nine! And with that, we start episode 4!

Poor Sam and Grace still having nightmares about Jess, I just want to hug them to badly.

When John's out on a hunt by himself, Dean always tries to make that time enjoyable for Grace. Maybe he can't drive miles to nearest theme park, or whatever, but they usually go for ice cream, or shopping, or just to the park. Dean still tries to give Grace a childhood even though she already had most of it taken from her and now she's living a hunter's life.

Dean instantly freaking out as soon as Grace mentioned meeting boys is hilarious. Dad-mode already kicking in. John and Dean were out and Grace stumbled across a group of Boy Scouts who she immediately befriended and they taught her some survival stuff and she taught them a few things she learnt from her Grandfather. Dean doesn't know what happened and he never will.

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Hopefully, I'll see you in the next chapter.

Sincerely Rosie aka Winter326