Chrys watched with a sense of soupy surrealism as Death sat down in one of the ornate chairs in the room, the bag of pickle chips that Dean had brought with them cradled in his hands. He pulled one out, popped one in his mouth, and sighed with satisfaction. "Ahh."
Dean cleared his throat a little bit. "Um…"
"Shut up, Dean. I'm not here to tie your shoes every time you trip. I warned you about those souls how long ago? Long enough to stop that fool." He put the bag on the side table next to his chair and wiped his hands. "And here we are again, with your little planet on the edge of immolation."
She could see that Dean was frustrated, so Chrys spoke before he could. "Look, I understand your frustration, I really do, especially with the Winchesters." She ignored Sam's indignant noise from next to her. "But is there anything you can give us at all? I mean, if only to stick it to Cass," she added helpfully, because she, herself, was struck with the intense desire to find a way to tell Castiel to stuff it without getting smote.
"Hmm… I do find that little angel arrogant."
"Great!" Dean said brightly. "Let's go with that."
"Your only hope is to have him return it all to Purgatory. Quickly."
Sam frowned. "We need a door."
"You have everything you need at that lab. Get him to return there and compel him to give up the power."
"Compel?" Chrys asked.
Death shrugged. "Figure it out."
"But that door only opens on the eclipse," Bobby said slowly, still being carefully respectful, "and that's over."
"I'll make another. Three fifty-nine, Sunday morning, just before dawn. Be punctual." Dean opened his mouth, and Death held up a hand to stop him. "Don't thank me. Clean up your mess."
They watched the horseman walk away before he stopped, not turning around to look at them. "Try to bind me again, you'll die before you start." Then, he did turn. "Nice pickle chips, by the way, and it's good to see you again, Chrysanthemum." Then he was gone.
Chrys blinked, then sighed. "I hate being singled out."
Chrys felt her eyebrows raise as she watched Dean knock back a whiskey. "You want some coffee with that?" she asked as she walked in with Sam trailing behind her.
Dean shrugged, not meeting her gaze. "It's six p.m. somewhere."
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. We gotta hit the road, and figure out a way to get Cass to that lab by three fifty-nine a.m." She sneered the last words, bravado born from the fear they wouldn't be able to do it, and the fact that Death wasn't here to hear her mock him.
Dean shook his head. "We can't."
"What do you mean, 'we can't?'" Sam spluttered indignantly.
"I mean," the eldest Winchester snapped, "we can't bring the horse to water, and we can't make it drink. Why fool ourselves?"
Chrys rolled her eyes. "Puh-lease. Like you could let an apocalypse lie if your life depended on it."
"Well, it might depend on it now."
"Can the 'poor me' crap, Dean," Chrys snapped. "We need you with us on this one."
"Dean, look," Sam started, ever the gentler one, "I know you think that Cass is gone-"
"It's 'cause he is," Dean said with forced ease.
"Well, he might not be," Chrys mused.
"He's not!" Sam insisted. "He's in there somewhere, guys, I know it."
Dean snorted. "No, you don't."
Sam sighed and his shoulders slumped. "No, I don't. But, look, I was pretty far gone sometimes myself, and you guys never gave up on me."
"Yeah," Dean nodded and reached for the bottle. Chrys snatched it away and held it out of his reach. "And it turns out you're about the same open book that you've always been," Dean continued, glaring at Chrys. She met his gaze head on. After a moment's showdown, Dean turned his gaze to Sam. "Hallucinations? Really? I gotta find out from Death?"
"What was I supposed to do?" Chrys winced at Sam's question. Stupid.
"How about not lie?" Dean asked lightly. "How about tell me that you've got crazy shit climbing those walls. Chrys, give me the goddamn bottle."
"No," she said, easy.
"Why would I tell you, Dean?" Sam ignored their bickering. "You can't help. You got a lot of pretty severe shit swinging your way lately, and, and I thought… What? I thought why burst the one good bubble you had left? It's under control."
"What?" Dean snapped. "What, exactly, is under control?"
"I know what's real and what's not."
"Gentlemen, let's argue about this once we deal with the angel, shall we?" Chrys suggested hopefully.
Dean smiled coldly. "Yeah, you know how I'm gonna deal? I'm gonna stuff my piehole, I'm gonna drink as soon as you give me my whiskey back, and I'm gonna watch some Asian cartoon porn and act like the world's about to explode, because it is."
He turned back to his laptop and made a grabby hand at chrys for his bottle. She ignored it and almost turned to walk about before he spoke again. "Hey. You gotta be kidding me." Now he beckoned them with two fingers.
They both came to stand behind him. On the screen was a news website, and Dean read the title off from the top. "'Massacare at the campaign office of an incumbent Senator by a trench-coated man.' There's security footage." Dean clicked on the video, and they watched as Cass did, in fact, slaughter everyone standing in the Senator's office.
"Well, I think reaching Cass is, uh… Out of the cards," Dean deadpanned.
Chrys was sitting across from Dean, eyes closed and leaned back in her chair, after Sam went outside. She had her suspicions that her lover was going to pray to Castiel, but she didn't have a lot of faith that it would work.
Of course, Chrys didn't have a lot of faith in anything these days.
"Dean," she said evenly, keeping her eyes closed, "if you don't shut that goddamn porn off, I'm going to find a way to shove that laptop inside of you." The click of the computer closing was the response she got. She laughed softly.
The sound of Sam coming back in made her smile and look up. "Hey, handsome."
He pointed to the tumbler in her hand. "Is there one of those for me?"
She nodded, and was sitting up to take the whiskey bottle from Dean (she'd given up quick after they'd had to watch the angel kill an entire building of people) when a rough, gravelly voice stopped her.
"Sam."
She whipped around to see Castiel standing in the doorway. He was covered in blood, and looked like he was having trouble focusing. She was up out of her chair before she could fully process what was happening.
"Cass," Sam breathed as Chrys was pulling Cass' arm over her shoulder and supporting some of his weight for him.
"I heard your call," Cass said slowly, like forming the words was difficult. "I need help."
Chrys thought that the plan they were currently working on was bad, too, but since it was their only plan, she kept that to herself.
She managed to help Dean haul Cass, who was in and out of consciousness, down into the basement where the door to Purgatory would open. When he did pull out of his stupor long enough to speak, it was mostly apologizing to Dean. Since he'd done the most damage to Sam, Chrys was a little irritated that the older brother was taking priority, but she kept her mouth shut about that, too. There would be time later to bitch at them.
See? She could grow.
She helped Dean sit Cas on the ground, since there was nowhere else to put him. The angel looked up at her through bleary blue eyes that still reminded her too much of her own.
"We need the right blood," he slurred. "There's a small jar, end of the hall. Supply closet."
She nodded, then looked up at Sam. "Let's go, handsome."
Sam followed her back to the basement, blood in hand, and Chrys thought about how fucked all of this was. She wondered idly if she'd be able to convince Sam to take a weekend off once the souls were back in Purgatory. There were still nude beaches she needed to fuck him on.
Her musings were cut short by Sam's tight, scared voice. "You're not here. You're in hell."
She turned and frowned. He'd stopped several feet behind her. "What? Sam, what are you talking about?"
His eyes were moving, like they were trained on something, but nothing was there. His next words sent chills skittering down her spine.
"Meat hooks... Chains... You. It's not real. It's just my brain leaking memories from the cage 'cause of the wall breaking down. That's all."
Realization washed through her, and she stepped to him quickly, cupping his face with her free hand. His frantic eyes met hers, and she tried to steady her breathing, hoping he would subconsciously mirror it.
"Sam," she said softly. "Stay with me, okay? He's not real. You're out of there. You're with me, remember?"
"With… Yeah, I'm with you."
She smiled. "There you go. He's just a hallucination, Sam, he's nothing. You and me, that's what's real, yeah?"
He nodded. "Right, right… You and me."
She leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you," she murmured. "I'm right here."
He was still trembling faintly, like he was trying to block out whatever his hallucination was. Chrys frowned, anger starting to build in her heart.
She leaned back and looked to where his eyes were, then turned to that exact spot.
"Lucifer, do me a favor and shut the fuck up."
Before she could check to see if that had worked, or if she'd just made a fool of herself, Dean came into the hallway. "C?" he asked warily. "C, we need the blood."
She reached out and handed it over. "Here, take it, Sam and I have some stuff to deal with."
"Now?" he asked incredulously.
She rolled her eyes. "Dean, you think if I could deal with it some other time, I would choose to do it right now? Yes now."
"Fine," he snapped, snatching the jar from her hand. "I'll be back to help in a second." His voice had gentled at the second part, so Chrys let it go as he walked away so she could focus on Sam again.
"Sammy?" she said softly, running a hand through his long hair. "Sam, are you with me?"
It took a second for his eyes to focus on her, but he nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm with you."
She nodded back. "Good, that's good. Okay, listen to me Sam, I've got some experiences with hallucinations from hell, okay?" She made sure he was still paying attention to her. "As long as I'm here, he can't hurt you, okay? He's not real, and he cannot physically attack you as long as I'm here. Do you hear me, Sam? I'm right here, and he can't get to you."
His responding nod was shaky at best, but she was willing to count her wins where she could get them. "Right, not as long as you're here."
She smiled. "Damn right." Before he could respond, the building started to shake, and a powerful howling sound came from the hallway where Dean had gone back down.
Chrys whirled to look down that hallway, then blinked. Nerves tightened her chest and made her next words come out in a bit of a croak.
"The door. They're opening the door to Purgatory."
**I'm so sorry this took so long. The usual reasons (read: excuses) stand. Depression, anxiety, blah, blah, blah. I'm working on them, though, and updates should, fingers crossed, be more frequent.
**I love you guys. Thanks for sticking with me.
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.
