Grace waited and waited and waited for Dean and John Winchester to get back to the motel. This was the first hunt she sat out on in her life. Hunting was in her blood, passed down through every generation. Grace's father Walter passed it down to her, everything that he knew. If it wasn't for Walter and Grace trapping Dean and John instead of that werewolf, they never would have met. Dean and Grace would never have gotten together. She would never have loved him, but she would never tell him that Dean wasn't the touchy, feely kind of guy, only the physical touchy, feely. That was about a year ago when they met.

Things started to change with Grace. She wanted to feel normal. She wanted to be normal. She couldn't have the life she wanted unless she stopped hunting. In order to do that she had to leave John and Dean. She heard the door open and knew it was Dean. She looked at herself in the mirror and took a deep breath.

"Grace?" she heard him call for her. She grabbed the door knob and readied herself for the most terrifying battle she had ever been in. She opened the bathroom door and found Dean undressing. He still had his pants on but they were unbuttoned and he was topless. She had to look away. She could never resist his body, no matter how much she tried but this time she had too.

"We could have seriously used your help out there," he said looking at her.

Grace rubbed her one arm and he knew something was up. Dean knew Grace very well. He knew when she rubbed her left arm she was nervous, she bit her bottom lip she was thinking, she turned her slightly to the right she was hiding her blush and when her eyes turned a lighter shade of green she was happy.

"Dean, we need to talk," she said and she sat on the bed.

"Great, another Chick-Flick moment," he rolled his eyes. He didn't mean to be a dick to her, it was just in his nature, always has been.

"Dean, I'm serious." And by the tone in her voice he knew it. He turned around and leaned on the dresser staring at her. She knew this would be harder than she thought in her head. "I can't do this anymore. I can't hunt anymore."

"Why? You sick…you're not pregnant are you?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, I'm not pregnant!" she yelled standing up. "When have we never used protection?"

He smirked. Two reasons; he loved getting her furious and he remembered one occasion. "Poconos, five months ago. We were both freezing our asses of." He started walking up to her and when he reached her she felt heat fill the pit of her stomach. He always managed to make her shiver and get weak in the knees, no matter what he did. He gently caressed her arms making goose bumps run up them. "We were supposed to be watching the house and tugged on my sleeve and gave me that devilish grin…"He kissed her lips and then looked in her eyes. Something was still wrong. Her eyes were sad. He backed up a little and looked closer at her.

"I want to be normal," she whispered. "I want to have a normal life. I want this hunting thing to end with me. I don't want my children to grow up in a world like this. It wouldn't be fair to them."

"Normal life!" he yelled and she jumped. "Grace you know as well as I do nothing is normal in this world."

"I just want to be able to live a happy normal life without thinking that some boogeyman is going to jump me at every corner I turn!" Dean kicked over a chair. "Oh, that's really mature Dean, just start kicking the furniture around!"

"That's it huh?" He threw the stuff off the table. "You think you can pack up, leave and everything is going to be all Brady Bunch?!"

"Pretty much sums it up!" she grabbed her duffel bag and put it over her shoulder.

"Where the hell you going to go?!"

"My fathers, back to Maine, hopefully start all over." She walked towards the door, which had to pass him. He grabbed her arm. "And do you think Walters going to feel when he sees that his daughter is giving up."

"I'm not giving up, I'm moving on." She pulled her arm away from his grip and opened the door.

"Don't try coming back when things start to fall apart in that perfect world of yours!" He didn't mean to say that. He wanted her to come back. He watched her walk out, leaving the door open and she never looked back. She wanted him to have the last image of her walking out on him.