***TRIGGER WARNING***
All right, beautiful readers. I debated long and hard about this trigger warning, because it's spoilery. But, in the end, your safety is more important to me, always.
Chrys has a miscarriage in this chapter. It's not CRAZY graphic, but it's definitely described.
Chrys has a miscarriage because there's no way that Sam and Chrys would keep hunting with the baby around. That would mean the end of this story, and I'm not quite ready for that. So, unfortunately, the baby can't stay.
BUT! There is a ray of hope!
No matter how much I want Chrys and Sam to stick around, I couldn't get the idea of the baby out of my head... So I'm writing the alternate ending, too! I put it in a series, it'll be called "What Could Have Been - Alternate Ending to I Won't Love You." It will be extremely similar to this story for the first few chapters, then will branch off, and will end rather quickly. I'm hoping to wrap it up satisfactorily, though.
So, read this one (but please, PLEASE, be safe). Or click over and read What Could Have Been. :)
And, as always, thanks for sticking with Sam, Chrys, and I.
Chrys was curled up next to Sam, her head on his chest. She drew random lines on his flat, muscled stomach, listening to his heartbeat and hurting.
His hand was running through her hair. It would have been comforting if she wasn't so heartbroken.
"Chrys, I'm sorry," he rumbled softly, for the hundredth time that night.
"I know, Sam," she replied, also for the hundredth time that night.
He sighed. "Chrys, I-"
"Please stop," she said softly, tears in her eyes. "Sam, I can't hear you apologize again. So, just, please stop."
He hauled her up to rest on his chest, and she gazed down at him. His strong, handsome face, his lovely hair, his broad shoulders. His chest that had little droplets of water on it now. Dammit, keep it together, Summers.
"Chrys, it's okay," he said softly, brushing the hair from her face.
She shook her head. "No, it's not. This isn't helping."
He smiled. "Chrys, you don't have to be so hard on yourself."
Oh, Sam. She thought her heart would burst with the love she had for the man beneath her. He was facing an eternity in hell, trapped in a cage with the devil, and here he was, reassuring her.
"Sam," she said softly, "Shut up and kiss me."
He examined her face for a moment, then wrapped his head around the back of her neck and pulled her close. He leaned up and met her in the middle, kissing her passionately. She sighed into his mouth and responded gently, lovingly. Tonight, she would love him.
She pulled away and kissed her way down his neck, shuddering when his hand tightened in her hair. She kissed her way down his chest, pausing to lav each nipple with her tongue, smiling when he moaned deep in his throat.
She kissed her way down that muscled stomach, highlighting each ridge with teeth and tongue. She nipped at his hip bones a little harder, smiling again when he thrust up helplessly.
She moved around his straining cock, kissing her way down his strong thighs. When she got there, she started at one knee and licked and nipped her way up to his inner thigh. She sucked a dark mark into him there, knowing it was unfair, unable to help herself. If he's going to hell, he's going there marked as mine.
She did the same to the other leg, and when she was back up where he wanted her again, he was panting and straining, struggling to hold onto his control. She smiled, looking up possessively at all of his leashed strength and power. Mmm, mine.
She pressed a kiss to the underside of his thick cock, moaning softly when it jumped against her lips. She gave him one long lick from base to tip, then finally took him into her mouth.
She pulled just the tip in first, sucking hard and whirling her tongue around it. She pressed gently into the slit there, tasting his precome, whimpering at the essence of him. She slowly moved all the way down, hollowing her cheeks, until her nose was pressed against the hair there, thanking everything she could thank that a gag reflex wasn't a problem for her.
When breathing did become a problem, she slowly moved up until he was barely in her mouth again. She kept up her hard suction, moving up and down, slowly increasing her pace. His big, hard hand fisted in her hair was such a turn-on, she couldn't help the soft whimpers in the back of her throat.
"Fuck, Chrys, please-" he begged softly, and she relished the control she had over him.
She pulled off of him with a pop, smiling when he gasped at the feeling. She moved up his body, pressing kisses and nips here and there until she was licking the shell of his ear. "Tell me you want me," she whispered, moving to press against him.
"I want you, Chrys, I've never wanted anyone like I want you, beautiful," he said hoarsely.
She moved up and sank down a couple of inches onto him. "Tell me I'm beautiful, Sam," she whispered, pausing where she was.
"You're beautiful, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
She smiled and pressed a kiss to his ear. "Tell me you love me, Sammy," she whispered, fighting the tears in her eyes.
He turned and caught her lips with his. "I love you, Chrys," he murmured against her mouth. "I love you so fucking much, beautiful."
"Then show me."
He wrapped an arm around her and turned so she was beneath him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her hands up his stomach, sniffling and trying to stem her tears again.
He rested his weight on one arm and used his other hand to cup her face, wiping her tears with his thumb. "Come on, baby, don't cry," he murmured, pressing kisses to her cheeks. "Come on, Chrys, be with me."
She moved her hips up and moaned. "Take me, Sam," she said softly.
He obliged by sinking into her slowly, lovingly. She gasped at the stretch, then cried out softly when he bottomed out. "Sam!"
He pressed a kiss to her ear. "Shh, baby, they'll hear you."
She whimpered and rolled her hips against him. "Let them hear me, Sam, please-"
He cut her off by thrusting into her again, setting a fast pace. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear and she writhed beneath him, her nails scoring down his back.
He shifted and moved his hand down her body, tweaking her nipple on the way down to her core. She gasped when his fingers found her clit and started slow circles. "Sam!"
"Come for me, baby, I love you, I want to feel you come-"
His words sent her over the edge, and she reached up and bit his shoulder, her teeth very close to the scar she had already left on his shoulder. She screamed into his skin, bucking beneath him, relishing the feel of him stiffening above her as he spilled into her.
He gasped and rolled to the side, breathing heavily, taking her with him. She buried her face in his chest, listening to his breathing slow, soaking him in, saving up the essence of him.
She was going to need it.
The next night, they stood outside the building that Lucifer was in. Chrys could feel his power as she stood aside to let Sam say what he had to to the others gathered there.
She had stayed with him during the draining of the demon blood, during the ride there, when he made Dean promise to leave the hunting life after Sam was in the cage. She noticed that no such promise was extracted from her, but she wasn't upset. She understood.
She wasn't making it out of this, either.
She turned to see him emptying the last jug of demon blood into his mouth. She met his hazel eyes, and hated the sorrow she saw there. She walked to him and waited until he had put it down to put a hand on his face. "Sam, stop," she said softly. "It's a little late for apologies and puppy dog eyes."
He sighed and raised a hand to wipe his mouth, but before he could, she went on tiptoe and kissed him, blood and all. She licked it from his lips and kissed him hard. It took him a second to catch up, but catch up he did, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her thoroughly.
She broke away and leaned back, reaching up to wipe her mouth gently, then doing the same for him. "No more, Sam, we're in this together, okay?"
He nodded, the look on his face making her heart beat faster. "Okay, Chrys," he said softly. "I love you."
She smiled. "I love you, too. Let's go."
She stood between Sam and Dean, her back straight, her head held high. For all the bad stuff, for all of the shitstorm that was what was about to happen, she was Chrysanthemum Goddamn Summers, and she would not cower in front of Lucifer.
They walked towards the building, and Sam started shouting. "All right! We're here, you sons of bitches! Come and fucking get it!"
Three demons exited the building, and she saw Dean smile. "Hey, guys. Is your father home?"
The bodyguards came forward and grabbed Sam and Dean, pulling their arms behind their backs. The third approached Chrys, but before he lay a hand on her, she cocked an eyebrow haughtily. "Think it's a good idea to manhandle Lucifer's bride, do you?" she asked coolly, every inch the woman that Sam and Dean had met a year ago, and not the soft mother-to-be she had become.
Going to have to get rid of her.
She sighed and strode forward, pushing the demon out of the way. "Take us to Lucifer, idiots."
When they walked in, the free demon gestured to the stairs. Chrys led the way, and when she got to the top, she saw Lucifer there, smiling at her. "Chrysanthemum, gentlemen. How nice of you to join me."
He turned and breathed onto the window pane behind him. He started to draw a pitchfork in the condensation. "Sorry if it's a bit chilly," he said softly. "Most people think I burn hot. It's actually quite the opposite."
Chrys rolled her eyes. "Cut the drama queen act, Luci. Let's get this over with."
Lucifer turned to look at her. She winced. "You're getting worse, Luci," she said softly.
He ignored her to look at Sam. "Help me understand something, guys. I mean, stomping through my front door is… A tad suicidal, don't you think?"
Sam shook his head. "We're not here to fight you."
Lucifer tilted his head to the side. "No? Then why are you?"
Sam took a deep breath. "I want to say yes."
Lucifer's eyes widened, and Chrys saw the dangerous hunger there. "Excuse me?"
Sam took another deep breath and closed his eyes. The three demons surrounding them dropped dead in flashes of light. The dark part of Chrys wanted Sam after the display of power, the rest of her was just tired.
Lucifer was smiling. "Chock full of Ovaltine, are we?"
Sam glared. "You heard me. Yes."
Lucifer sobered. "You're serious."
"Look, Judgment Day's a runaway train. We get it now. We just want off."
Lucifer's eyebrows rose. "Meaning?"
"Deal of the century. I give you a free ride, but when it's all over, I live, she lives, he lives, you bring our parents back-"
"Sam, stop," Chrys said softly, examining the devil. "He's not buying it. He knows."
Sam blinked. "What?"
Lucifer clapped softly. "Good girl." He looked at Sam. "The Horsemen's rings? The magic keys to my cage? Ring a bell? Come on, Sam. I've never lied to you. You could at least pay me the same respect." He waved a hand. "It's okay, I'm not mad. A wrestling match inside your noggin… I like the idea. Just you and me, one round, no tricks. You win, you jump in the hole. I win… Well, then, I win. What do you say, Sam?" He smirked. "A fiddle of gold against your soul says I'm better than you."
Chrys rolled her eyes. Drama queen.
Sam steeled himself. "So he knows. Doesn't change anything."
Dean grabbed his arm. "Sam."
Sam shook him off. "We don't have any other choice."
"No!" Dean snapped.
Sam looked at Lucifer. "Yes."
Lucifer closed his eyes and bright light started to emanate them. Chrys turned her head away as the light shined bright. When she turned back, Sam's body was motionless on the floor, and as soon as he stirred, she knew.
Dean took the Horsemen's rings out of his pocket, but she pulled them out of his hand and wrapped her fingers around them. "Dean, it's not him," she said softly, fighting the tears in her eyes. "Sam didn't win."
Lucifer, wearing Sam's face, sat up and smirked. "Why do you always ruin all the fun, Chrysanthemum?"
She glared. "Fuck you."
He smiled. "All right, have it your way, darling." He stood, then held his hand out to her. "Come here, Chrysanthemum."
She didn't fight it. There was no use. She slid her slender hand into his broad one, and the cold emanating from it, where it used to be so warm, almost took her out at the knees. Instead, she steeled herself and stood next to him.
But, like usual, Lucifer had to have the last word.
He looked at Dean. "I told you, this would always happen in Detroit."
The world dipped away from her.
When Chrys opened her eyes, they were in the lush bedroom he'd brought her to before. She sighed and pulled her hand from his. "So, when's the showdown?" she asked without preamble.
He smirked and watched her move around the room. Seeing Sam's face, her sweet Sam, distorted with Lucifer's cold features was killing her, so she turned away to look around the room.
"So eager to see me defeat Michael, Chrysanthemum?"
She shrugged. "Eager for it to be over."
He was at her back now, and she could feel the cold coming off of him in waves. "Well, we have all night tonight," he said softly, one hand coming up to stroke her arm gently, making her shiver. "I'm sure we can think of something to do."
"What if I say no?" she asked softly, with no fear. "Will you rape me?"
His hand stilled, and he gently used his grip on her arm to turn her around to face him. He cupped her face with his hand, and she couldn't help leaning into the cool touch. It wasn't Sam, but it was enough of Sam to have her yearning.
"Chrysanthemum," he said seriously. "I would never rape you. I will never do anything to you that I do not have permission for."
She gazed up into the cool hazel eyes and saw the truth there. Lucifer wouldn't rape her, or force her to do anything. No, he would probably have her begging for it before long, but he wouldn't do anything to her she didn't want him to.
Maybe it was that, maybe it was the smidge of Sam she saw in those eyes. Maybe it was the ache in her at the loss of her soulmate, the grief that was starting to build in her heart. Maybe it was because she was so damn tired of fighting that little dark Chrys inside of her, that little part of her that was jumping for joy that Lucifer was here, and they could finally touch him.
But in that moment, for the first time in her life, though Chrys would never tell anyone, she felt complete. She and the dark part of her agreed on at least one thing. Both of Chrys's men, for they were hers, regardless of how they came to be that way, were with her, in the same body, staring down at her with heat in those hazel eyes.
So she raised up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.
Sam watched in horror as his woman pressed against him. He fought against Lucifer's hold on his body, but to no avail. He couldn't beat him, even as he felt Lucifer's tongue brush across Chrys's bottom lip, asking for permission.
Sam sensed the truth of Lucifer's words. He wouldn't rape Chrys. He would never rape Chrys.
He would hurt her until she was pleading for it, but he wouldn't rape her.
Sam struggled harder against the hold that Lucifer had on his mind, until Lucifer's voice came to him, crystal clear.
I'm going to turn you away now, Sam. This is between my bride and I.
Sam started screaming as all of his perception went dark and still.
Chrys wound her arms around Lucifer's neck and kissed him back, opening for him when he ran his tongue along her bottom lip. He swept into her mouth, his big hands resting at her hips, and she sighed, reveling in the feel of being one with herself, wishing it was with someone else, glad that it was him.
Being one with yourself is confusing.
He ran one of those hands along her waist, and when his fingers brushed her belly, her heart stuttered to a stop and her brain short-circuited.
She gasped and stepped away from him, tearing her mouth from his. "No," she said softly, "No, no, no."
When he stepped forward, she took another step back, one hand held out, the other on her stomach. She was making it obvious, but she couldn't seem to help it.
"What's wrong, Chrysanthemum?" he asked gently. "What happened?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, Luci, please, just… No. Not right now." she managed to pull her hand away from her belly and held it out, too.
When she looked up at him, an expression of understanding had settled onto his face. "Ah," he said gently. "You're worried about the baby."
Everything in her stilled, and she felt her eyes go wide. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
He laughed. He actually laughed. "Please, Chrysanthemum, I know." He smiled. "How could you think that any little part of your lovely body could change, and I wouldn't notice it?"
She glared at him. "Lucifer, nothing has changed. I don't know what 'baby' you're talking about-"
He was suddenly across the room, in her space, pressed against her. One hand was on her hip, the other wrapped around the back of her head, pressing her face into his chest. "Chrys," he said through gritted teeth, his words muffled by the way his mouth was pressed to her hair. "Did you really think I wouldn't realize you've been shacking up with someone else?"
He was breathing hard, and she felt real fear start to curl in her stomach. "Lucifer, I-"
He squeezed her hard. "Shut up, Chrys," he said softly, dangerously, and she felt tears start to well in her eyes. "Now, I'm a very forgiving husband, I'm willing to overlook your little… Indiscretion."
She tried to pull away, but he held her fast. "It wasn't an indiscretion, Sam and I are soulmates," she whispered fiercely.
He squeezed her hip hard enough to make her whimper. Gonna leave bruises, she thought weakly.
"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up, Chrys," he snarled. "Now, like I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," he snapped, squeezing her again until she almost cried out, "I can forgive one indiscretion."
He finally released her enough to let her look up at his face. He looked down at her with an almost kind expression on his.
"What I can't forgive, of course, is you carrying someone else's seed."
She jerked back, trying to fight him, but he was Lucifer, and it was impossible. So she was held fast by his power, unable to do anything to protect her child but watch as his hand came to rest gently on her lower abdomen.
"You're mine, Chrys," he said gently, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Remember that."
His hand got colder, if possible, and she felt pain start to rip at her belly. She gasped, and felt blood start to trickle between her legs. "Lucifer, please," she said softly, "Please, don't-"
"Hush now, Chrys," he said softly, pressing his lips to her forehead again, "It's almost over."
Chrys felt the moment that her daughter died, and then she felt something else.
The dark part of her, the part of her who had celebrated Lucifer's rising and kissed him hard and made Chrys roll her hips against the devil when he touched her, that part of her had had at least one thing in common with Chrys.
She had loved the child they were carrying.
So for the second time in her life, Chrys felt whole. All of the little pieces of her were grieving a child who wouldn't be born, a child with chestnut hair and bright blue eyes. All of the little pieces of her were dying.
And all of the little pieces of her were pissed. She wanted Sam back.
So instead of curling up and crying, or going to find a way to shoot up, or finding a way to kill herself, Chrys stood tall, with the last of the life she'd been carrying running down her legs, and looked Lucifer in the eye.
"That was a mistake, Lucifer."
His big hand coming up to backhand her was the last thing she saw.
Chrys stood with Lucifer in the cemetery, arms wrapped around her middle, eyes on the horizon.
This was it. The big showdown, the prize fight, the apocalypse, Armageddon.
Armageddon was kind of chilly.
She sighed and rubbed her hands up and down her arms, wishing it was over already. She wasn't suicidal, not quite, but if the opportunity came, she wouldn't step out of the way of a bullet.
Why would she? Sam was gone, the baby was gone, and Chrys was alone again. And she found that, after basking in the warmth of a family, being alone again was unbearable.
So when Michael appeared, wearing Adam, she was almost glad.
Good. Almost done.
Lucifer turned. "It's good to see you, Michael."
Michael nodded. "You, too. It's been too long." He sighed and looked around. "Can you believe it's finally here?"
Lucifer shook his head. "No, not really."
Michael looked at Lucifer. "Are you ready?" He frowned.
"As I'll ever be." Lucifer paused, and Chrys rolled her eyes at his manipulation. "A part of me wishes we didn't have to do this."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Chrys muttered, letting her eyes go back to the horizon. Archangels are thirteen year old girls. Who knew?
"Yeah," Michael said, "Me, too." She saw him frowning at her from the corner of her eye, but she didn't meet his gaze. Fuck him.
"Then why are we?" Lucifer asked, desperation tinging his tone.
Chrys rolled her eyes again. "Ugh."
Michael glared at her. "What are you even doing here?"
She gave him a winning smile. "I'm here to cheer for Luci and provide comic relief."
Michael gave her a long, even look, then, "You are no longer with child."
"Don't speak to her, Michael, she has nothing to do with this," Lucifer snapped.
Michael ignored him. "There is no reason for you to be here."
Chrys nodded. "I agree."
Michael raised a hand. "Very well."
Chrys felt a brief, harsh flash of pain at the base of her neck, then nothing.
"Well, Chrysanthemum? What say you?"
"Will anything else change?"
Death sighed, and she sensed that he was getting tired of her questions. Fuck you, this is my life, she thought bitterly.
"You will be susceptible to other angels' powers again. The demons will still probably see you as queen. They tend to be simple creatures, who do not adapt well to change."
She placed a protective hand on her belly. "And… And her?"
Death smiled, and she felt comforted and cold at the same time. "The child will be fine, Chrysanthemum. Breaking the bond between you and Lucifer won't change a thing."
"Can you… Can you protect her? Make it so he won't know she's there?"
Death looked… Grieved. "My powers are not protective ones, Chrysanthemum. They are powers of destruction. I cannot."
Chrys took a deep breath, thought about it only for a moment, and nodded.
"Okay. Do it."
Chrys woke up on her back, looking up at Castiel, who was kneeling over her. She stared into those blue eyes so similar to hers, and saw all the answers she needed. She felt… Hollowed out. She would have been heartbroken if she had been able to feel anything at all.
She sat up slowly at met Dean's eyes. Then she looked back at the angel.
"Should have left me dead, Cass," she whispered as tears she had thought had run out started spilling down her cheeks.
**I hope I did this chapter justice.
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.
