"Sam. Get your ass over here and get in this bed."
Sam chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Chrys, the nurse said no-"
"Fuck her," Chrys said fervently. "She was missing that vein on purpose, I can tell these things, Sammy. Get over here. Let's stick it to her."
He smiled. "Chrys, come on, she's just doing her job."
He full-on grinned when she glared at him. "God dammit, Sam, be on my side. Get your exceptional ass onto this bed and cuddle with me."
He kept grinning and leaned forward to kiss her thoroughly, laughing against her lips when the heart monitor's beeping increased in tempo.
They'd been there for a week, and Chrys had declared war on the nurses. As far as Sam could tell, it was really only because she hated being in the hospital itself, not because of anything anyone had done to her.
They were, in fact, being exceptionally patient with his wayward woman, who was on edge, and outright rude on occasion. But Chrys was healing much faster than she had any right to be, and while it worried the doctors, Sam suspected it was just one more thing that 'prepared' her to be Lucifer's bride.
"Shut up, Winchester," she muttered against his mouth, her own smile starting to pull her lips up at the corners.
"Mr. and Mrs. Summers!" A severe voice snapped. Sam jumped back guiltily, and Chrys sulked at the nurse who had walked in. "I must insist that you… Desist."
"God dammit, Chrys, slow down."
She laughed and kept her quick pace toward the hospital doors. Fuck, I hate hospitals. "No, Sammy, let's go!"
"Chrys," he said, exasperated. "You're still recovering from being shot. Being careful wouldn't kill you."
She turned and grinned at him, giddy at the thought of leaving here, walking backwards so she could keep moving. "One, you can't possibly know that for sure. Two, careful is my middle name."
He scoffed. "It is not." There was a beat of silence, then, "Wait, what is your middle name?"
She smiled and waited for him to catch up to her just inside the door. When he got there, it was the most natural thing in the world to thread her fingers through his. "Don't have one. My parents didn't believe in labelling me once, much less twice. So they named me after a flower and left it at that."
She beamed up at him when he laughed. Sam had been… Amazing, while she'd been in the hospital. He'd stayed with her the whole time, sending Dean out regularly for food and clothes. He ate, slept, and showered in her hospital room, she hadn't had a moment alone since she'd been shot. It had been incredibly comforting, even if she had slept most of the time, to know that he would be there when she woke up.
He tugged her through the door, her bag slung over his shoulder. "Come on, beautiful, let's get out of here."
As they drove, Sam kept an eye on Chrys in the rear view. She was curled up in the backseat, sleeping like a rock. They'd been on the road for several hours, so he wasn't surprised. He was really just relieved that she was having a normal reaction to being shot for once.
He looked over at Dean, and promptly decided to ignore the smug, knowing look on his brother's face. "So, what's the case?"
Dean looked at him for another beat, then shrugged. "Couple comes home to find the babysitter dead on the couch. Something clawed its way through her skull."
Sam was watching Chrys as they walked back to the motel. She was discussing the case, and he was admiring the way she moved.
"Earth to Sam," she said happily, her blue eyes twinkling at him. "What are you thinking about?"
He winked at her. "Nothing good. What were you saying?"
She laughed. "I was saying, it sounds to me like it's the kind of thing kids are told. The tooth fairy, pop rocks and Coke, itching powder. It's the kind of things normal kids believe when they're little."
He frowned. "Normal kids?"
She flashed him an unreadable smile. "I didn't believe in a whole lot growing up. I thought it was all dumb, I had bigger things to worry about." He opened his mouth, and she glared at him. "Don't go all puppy dog eyes on me, Samuel. I don't want to hear it. I'm not trying to be sad, I'm just saying that's what it sounds like to me."
He frowned, but didn't say anything. He reached out and took her hand, reveling in the way it felt natural when her fingers interlaced through his.
The little bit he'd gotten her to open up about her life before him was distressing. Her childhood had been a series of mental hospitals, different medications, and doctors endlessly poking at her. It really wasn't a surprise she had hated the hospital she'd been in so much.
Even if his childhood hadn't been exactly picturesque, his heart ached for Chrys. She deserved better than that.
"Sam," she said severely, glaring at him. "No sad puppy eyes."
He smiled and pulled her closer to kiss her. "Sorry, Chrys," he said softly. "Just thinking."
They were at the motel door. She fished the key out of her pocket and rolled her eyes at him. "Well, stop thinking about me, and start thinking about the case."
I'm always thinking about you, he thought, but didn't say, knowing it would make her uncomfortable in front of Dean.
They walked into the motel to see Dean still eating that fucking ham. Sam made a face. "Dude, seriously. Still with the ham?"
"We don't have a fridge," Dean protested through the mouthful of food.
Chrys made a face. "Gross, Winchester."
He opened his mouth at her, and she laughed, sliding into the seat next to him and kicking him under the table. Their interaction made Sam smile. For some reason, it was important to him that they got along.
Shaking his thoughts away, he spread the map in his hand across the table. "Well, I found something."
Chrys cocked an eyebrow. "All by yourself, hmm?"
He rolled his eyes. "We found something." He pointed to the map. "Tooth fairy attack was here, Pop Rocks and Coke was here, then you've got itching powder, face freeze, and joy buzzer. All located within a two-mile radius."
Sam was trying not to be distracted by Chrys leaning forward over the table to look at the map when Dean spoke. "So, we got a blast zone of weird, and inside, fantasy becomes reality. What's the A-bomb at its center?"
Chrys pointed. "Four acres of farmland, and a house."
There was a beat of silence before Dean asked, "Our motel isn't in that circle, by any chance?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah, why?"
Dean held his hand up to show that his palm was covered in hair. Sam made a face. "Ugh, dude-"
Chrys's burst of laughter took him by surprise. The way she lit up when she laughed took him by surprise, too. "Oh, God, Dean, you idiot-" she was gasping, trying to speak through her mirth.
Dean glared at her. "Shut up, Summers."
Chrys had a smug smile on her face as they approached the farmhouse that sat at the middle of the chaos. She was in her FBI clothes, and she looked good. Her usual skirts and tank top had been ditched for tight slacks, a blouse, and a blazer. Take that, Sammy.
She knocked on the door and sent a wink over her shoulder at him. He looked like he was having trouble concentrating.
A boy of about nine years old answered the door, and Chrys was hit with a wave of power emanating off of him so strong that she almost stumbled.
He was blinking at her, too. "Can I help you?" he asked politely.
Dean flashed his, 'I'm about to lie' smile, and Chrys gave in to the instinct that was battering away at her.
"Hi," she said softly, kneeling down onto her knees to look the child in the eye. "My name is Chrys. This is Sam and Dean."
"Chrys-" Dean hissed.
She ignored him. "Are your parents home?"
He shook his head. "What's your name?" Chrys asked gently.
"Jesse," he said hesitantly.
Chrys smiled, and saw his shoulders relax a fraction. "Jesse, we just want to ask you some questions, is that okay? We'll stay right out here."
Jesse looked at her. "Are you cops?"
She shrugged. "Kind of, but we don't have badges. We hunt down bad guys."
The boy considered her for a long moment, and she let him. The power coming off of this child was incredible, and more than anything, something was telling Chrys that he would need her, and she wanted him to trust her.
He nodded. "Okay."
She smiled again and looked back up at the Winchesters. "Well?"
Dean was glowering at her, which she ignored. Sam looked at Jesse with curiosity. "Jesse, what do you know about itching powder?"
Jesse's eyes widened. "That stuff will make you scratch your brains out."
Chrys's eyebrows rose. "Pop Rocks and Coke?"
The child looked back at her. "You mix them, and you'll end up in the hospital. Everyone knows that."
Chrys nodded, then pulled the buzzer out of her pocket. Jesse's eyes got even wider. "You shouldn't have that."
She tilted her head. "Why's that?"
"It can electrocute you."
She shook her head. "Actually, Jesse, it can't. It's just a wind-up toy. It's harmless."
He looked at her mistrustfully. "So it can't shock you?"
She shook her head. "Nope. All it does is shake in your hand. It's actually kinda dumb. See?" She reached back with it in her hand and smacked Dean on the leg.
He yelped and yanked away, glaring down at her. She turned and smiled at Jesse. "See? He's fine."
Chrys was standing in Jesse's living room, whispering at Sam. "I'm not leaving him."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Chrys, we can't stay here. His parents will come home and wonder what the fuck you're doing here."
"And I'm going to be here wondering what the fuck they're thinking, leaving a kid like that on his own."
Dean held his hands up in a peacemaking gesture. "You said you've never seen anything like it. Seen anything like what?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I tend to be tuned in to the powers of heaven or hell, so it could be either. I'm willing to bet he's either Nephilim or Cambion."
Dean blinked. "Which are?"
"Hybrids. Nephilim are human and angel hybrids, Cambion are human and demon. Either way, they tend to be extremely powerful, although Cambion are much rarer."
"So, what, you think one of his parents is an angel?" Sam asked.
She shook her head. "No, I think he's adopted."
"I'm what?" Jesse asked from behind her.
The men jumped guiltily, and Chrys turned to look at him. "Hi, Jesse."
"Hi," he said, distracted. "You think I'm adopted."
Chrys sighed. "Yes."
"Why?"
Chrys had always firmly believed that lying to children was stupid. They were smart, and capable, and more equipped to handle any given situation than adults were any day of the week. So she wasn't going to start now, not with a child who could crush her with a thought.
She walked over to the couch and patted the spot next to her. "Come here, Jesse."
He approached and sat on the far end of the couch warily. "Why do you think I'm adopted?"
She looked up at Sam and looked at the door. He nodded and pulled Dean with him, silently leaving the room.
She looked back at Jesse. "Jesse, do you believe in God?"
He nodded.
"Okay, what about angels? And demons? And the devil?"
He nodded again.
Chrys examined him for a long moment. "Jesse, I think you're adopted. I think one of your parents was either an angel or a demon, and then they gave you up for some reason."
He looked back at her solemnly. "Why do you think that?"
Chrys explained about the strange happenings around town, emphasizing that it was in no way Jesse's fault.
She sighed. "There's a war happening, Jesse. Between heaven and hell. It's more than the usual war happening, there's actual fighting. And I think both sides are going to want to get their hands on you."
His eyes widened, and started to fill with tears. Chrys held her arm out, and he scooted to her until she could wrap it around his shoulders. "Why do they want me?" he asked tearfully.
Chrys thought for a moment. "Because you're immensely powerful, Jesse. You could probably crack the world in half like an egg if you really wanted to."
He looked up at her skeptically. "I'm nine."
She smiled. "I know. But you have superpowers."
He seemed to study her for a minute, and she let him again. "Am… Am I a good guy, or a bad guy?"
She hugged him tight. "You can be either, Jesse. That's up to you. No one can tell you what to do, okay?" She let a beat of silence pass, then, "I'll tell you this. You could probably save a lot of people someday, Jesse. But listen, kiddo, this is important." She looked down and met his bewildered, melancholy eyes. "You're the one who has to sleep with you at the end of the day. So no matter what everyone around you says, including the good guys, you do what will make sleeping easy, okay?"
He nodded. "Okay, Chrys."
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.