#grace rogers

my yuri

Grace Rogers - Mad Dogs

Sebastian Croft arriving at the Courrèges Womenswear Fall/Winter 2024-2025 show as part of Paris Fashion Week (28 February)

Numb. Everything just felt…numb. Grace couldn’t bring herself to even pretend. She just felt hollow. Empty. She didn’t know why. Couldn’t begin to find the words to explain this feeling overtaking her. Not that she really wanted to try. After all these years of hunting, she should’ve been used to pain…grief…but this felt too different. Sighing, she leaned onto the porcelain sink, hanging her head. Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to wonder. She thought about the apocalypse. The angels. Micheal. Lucifer. She thought about what would truly happen if Sam and Dean said yes; if she would lose them both forever. She questioned if there was truly another way to end the end of world. To stop Micheal and Lucifer from tearing the world apart with their pissing match.

Grace tightened her grip on the sink. Feelings of helplessness began to flood through her, among other things. She could feel it getting harder to breathe with every question she asked herself. Her palms began to grow clammy, and she was starting to feel warm. Her heart beat seemed to speed up, filling her ears and overtaking her senses, Something was wrong. The numb feeling gave way to something else and Grace opened her eyes to look at herself in the mirror. The color had drained from her face, her breathing growing more erratic. What was happening? Was she dying? Grace stepped back, wrapping an arm around herself. She ran her free hand through her hair as tears welled up in her eyes, and her breathing got heavier. 

“N…No…” she whispered to herself, struggling to even speak. By now, her heart was racing, each breath coming out in heavy hyperventilations. She was dying. She had to be. This had never happened to her before, and she found herself at a loss as to what to do. Everything was becoming too much. Clenching her fists, Grace suddenly turned, punching the mirror as hard as she could and shattering the glass before sinking to her knees and screaming.

~~~

Dean closed his baby’s hood gently, grabbing a nearby towel and wiping the oil and grime from his hands. He was getting antsy. It had been days since they had gotten a case, and he wasn’t exactly used to not being on the road for this long. But he knew that Sam needed to fully get the demon blood out of his system. Who know how much that bastard, Famine, had fed him. All they could do was wait for the worst to pass. Dean tossed the towel onto a table before stalking inside. Bobby was out on some errand, so he just walked straight to the fridge and took out a beer. Leaning back against the counter, he let his thoughts take over. It’s been a practical hell on Earth since Sam broke the last seal, and Dean wondered, not for the first time, if they could really pull this off. Afte all, he felt lost. In over his head. They all were.

But it was Dean’s job to get it together and be strong. He was the older brother, and he needed to protect Sam. And Grace, he gingerly thought. Grace. He couldn’t believe that she was still with them. After all the shit they had dragged her through, he half expected her to tell him to shove it and head back home. That’s what he would’ve done. And yet…everyday, she acts as a sort of buffer. Their own little cheerleader, constantly reminding them that they can do this. That fate can screw itself. Dean couldn’t help but adore the kid for that. She had been through hell and back, literally, and she still stuck around. She still held them up, in her own way.

A loud crash broke Dean from his thoughts, and he quickly set his beer down, racing up the stairs toward the bathroom. He pushed through the door, and froze. The bathroom was a mess. Towels were thrown on the floor, covered in red. The mirror was shattered, the glass lying everywhere. The sink was running. And in the middle of it all, sat Grace. She was huddled over, clutching her arms to her chest. Her body was shaking with sobs, and she seemed to be struggling to breathe. Dean’s heart dropped as he heard her mumbling to herself incessantly through her tears. The only words he caught were, “I don’t know.” He slowly stepped forward, reaching to turn the sink off first. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do as Grace jumped back, looking up at him with terrified eyes. Her breathing worsened, as if she expected some monster to attack her right then and there. Dean held up his hands, gently lowering himself to her level. He didn’t reach out to her quite yet, even when he felt a pang of panic at noticing that her shirt was covered in blood.

“Hey Kiddo,” he said softly. “You’re okay…”

He didn’t really know what to do in this situation. Sam was usually the comforting teddy bear. Dean had never really been good at comfort. He ran a hand through his hair before inspecting Grace. Other than the bit of blood, she seemed okay. Well, not okay, but otherwise physically unharmed. He slowly reached for a towel next to her, hoping that she would let him help her. “Let’s get your hand bandaged up, alright? Grace?”

Grace let out another loud sob, curling in on herself even more. Her hyperventilating seemed to worsen as she struggled to speak.

“I…I d…on’t know w…w…what to do…!” she sobbed. “P…p…please, I…I c…an’t do t…this!”

She reached her injured hand out, gripping Dean’s arm and pulling him closer. Then she wrapped her arms around her, burying her face into his chest. Her sobs continued to wrack her body, making it hard to speak anymore, but Dean understood. Of course he understood. Grace had practically just said the exact same words he had weeks ago, when he had prayed to God against all hope that the bastard would answer. Dean knew exactly what Grace was thinking, what she was feeling, because it was the same feeling he continued to drown in cheap alcohol and hunts. She felt lost. She felt helpless. She felt like no matter what they did, the hell would never end. Not really. Dean looked down at the girl he had known for so long, and realized that maybe he had overestimated her. Maybe he had put way too much on her shoulders, not realizing that she was just refusing to say when. She was just being an idiot…just like him. The only difference was, that he was allowed to do that. He needed to. This wasn’t some chick flick where he laid himself bare and talked about his feelings. His job was to protect Grace, not the other way around. Taking a breath, the hunter wrapped his arms around the girl, and held her close. 

He didn’t know exactly how long they sat there like that. Her sobs had long since quieted, her body only shaking from the aftermath. But eventually he felt Grace’s breathing begin to calm and even out. Felt her heart start to slow, and her muscles begin to relax. He carefully pulled back to get a good look at her face, only to find her sound asleep. Sighing in relief, Dean gently wrapped a towel over her hand, and moved to pick her up bridal style. He carried her downstairs, placing her on the same couch him and Sam had slept on thousands of times, before taking a nearby blanket to drape over her. When he turned to get the first aid kit, he saw Bobby standing in the kitchen. The older man wore a look a concern, but without a word, he nodded to Dean before leaving to grab the medical suppiles himself. It was second nature at this point, after all.

~~~

Grace groaned, slowly opening her eyes, only to immediately squint against the sunlight. She raised a hand to block out the offending light as she sat up, and froze when she noticed the bandages. They were fairly new, dotted red from her blood. Confusion filled her head. When had she hurt her hand? Turning, she saw Dean laying on the floor next to her, asleep. He had an arm tucked underneath the blanket he was using as a makeshift pillow, and his body was facing her as if to keep watch over her. Grace unhurriedly got up off the couch, lowering herself down next to Dean. He jumped, automatically reaching for some kind of weapon, but there wasn’t one. However, he relaxed when he noticed who it was. He groaned softly, turning onto his back and rubbing his face.

“Grace,” he said, “you can’t just sneak up on me like that.”

Without an answer, she wrapped her arms around his middle, tucking her face into his neck. It felt…strange. She never really did that with Dean before. Sure, they hugged, but he wasn’t the type of person to enjoy this kind of thing. Not like Sam. But she held on anyway, feeling like she needed the comfort. She tightened her grip, and when she felt Dean drape an arm over her waist, she gave a small smile.