Chapter 3: Starting all over.

Chris got up early the next morning before Sam awoke and got ready for his normal morning jog. He couldn't find any running clothes in Dean's duffle bag on the floor so he settled for a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. Not thinking to leave a note, he took off for his usual 5 mile run. At first it was hard to find his stride. At 5'9 Chris was used to the rhythm and gait of his own body. Dean was taller, and with his longer legs, it took Chris about half a mile to find his new stride. Breathing was also a struggle. Chris found himself winded after only 3 miles. Stopping for a moment to catch his breath he decided to walk the rest of the way back to the motel. Walking past a convenience store he stopped in to buy the morning paper, glad that he remembered to grab a buck from Dean's wallet. Another thing he had to feel weird about. He felt like a thief going though Dean's wallet but what choice did he have, his own wallet was still in his back pocket…

'Somewhere in the morgue by now.' Chris thought to himself. He suddenly had a vision of his wife getting the call and her reaction to his death.

"Marybeth." He whispered her name cringing at how strange her name sounded with his new voice. He walked slowly back to the motel lost in his thoughts of his wife and the life they had together. As he approached the motel room, the door suddenly flew open and an angry John Winchester stood there, eyes blazing.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded as Chris walk in the room looking at the two of them. Sam stood by the door as well fear clearly on his face. John slammed the door and spun around.

"What the hell is your problem? I went for a run." Chris answered annoyed not realizing why they were reacting the way they were.

"You went for a what? Uh, you never leave this room without telling us where you're going to you understand that young man?" John was adamant but Chris's reaction was not what they were expecting.

"Listen, I'm not sure how you're used to talking to your son but that crap won't fly with me John. I may have his body, against my will I might add, but you just can't tell me what I can and can not do. I've been on my own since I was 16 and I'll come and go as I damn well please." He replied getting up in John's face. They stared, challenging each other to back down. Chris saw John curled his hand up wanting to hit him and dared him to do it. Sam jumped up between them and pulled his father back.

"Chris it's just, when I woke up and found you gone…..I don't know…I got scared. Dad and I thought someone had taken you." He pushed John back further as they continued to glare at each other.

"What? Taken by whom?" Chris shook his head and now stared at Sam. "This isn't more of this voodoo crap is it? What the hell are you two into anyway?"

"What we're into is none of your business, but keeping that body safe is." John gestured at Chris to make his point. "If you do anything, and I mean anything, to harm my son's body, I'll rip you out of there myself."

"I want to see you try, because from where I'm standing I'm getting the short end of this deal. If you have a way of 'ripping me out' as you so delicately put it, then go ahead. Trust me I have no desire to live the rest of my life in someone else's body. So do your voodoo, or what ever the hell you need to do and let's end this right now." Chris yelled back inching forward towards John again.

Once again Sam had to push his father back.

"Dad, Chris, stop it you two! Dad go take a walk. Chris go stand over there." Sam mediated, pointing to the opposite side of the room.

"Yeah John go take a walk." Chris spat out as he moved across the room.

"You son of a bitch, don't you dare call me John."

"Well what the hell am I suppose to call you, because I'm sure as hell not going to call you 'Dad'?" Chris stood and looked back angrily at John. Sam quickly pushed John towards the door and pulled it open.

"Go!" he ordered, pushing John out the door. "Dad go cool off. If you keep pushing his buttons like that he'll take off on us and we'll never find him again."

"That's never going to happen, Sammy. That man does not leave this room do you understand me?" John leaned in as he spoke and the two of them looked back inside at Chris. "I'm gonna make some calls and then we're going figure out how to get your brother back."

"Yes sir." Sam nodded. He watched his father walk off, and headed back inside. His heart in his throat, he was grateful John's anger wasn't directed towards him as it had been so many times in the past.

"Christ, now I know how Dean felt every time he had to get between us." He said not realizing he was speaking out loud.

"Wow your father is some piece of work. Does he always act like that when he doesn't get his way?" Chris was still angry as he paced around the room.

"Well he isn't used to Dean challenging him, that's for sure" Sam laughed sadly to himself. "That's always been my job. My brother was the one that always had to break us up."

"Well I'm not Dean and I'm sure as hell not going to sit here and be ordered around like some kid. If he thinks, well hell, if you both think I'm just going to stay here you are both sadly mistaken. I have a life I need to get back too. I need to talk to Marybeth, where's the phone…" he started to look around before he suddenly stopped and dropped to the bed. "Jesus what hell am I going to do? I can't call her, not now."

"Who's Marybeth?" Sam asked curiously, seeing tears suddenly well up in Chris's eyes.

"My wife." Chris pretended to rub his eyes as he wiped away a stray tear.

"Jesus I forgot, I'm so sorry, you mentioned her back at the museum." Sam said forgetting about the man's request as he lay dying back at the museum.

"13 years, we got married in college and last night was our anniversary. She bought me this silly, ugly tie as a joke, knowing how much I hate wearing them. My luck, she'll give it to the funeral people to bury me in. Jesus what kind of anniversary present did I give her? 'Hi honey, guess what… I got myself ripped to shreds for our anniversary. Happy lucky 13.' " Sarcasm and grief echoed in Chris's voice. Looking over at Sam he noticed the pained look on his face.

"Hey I'm sorry….black humor….can't help myself." Chris apologized not knowing he had touched a nerve with his humor.

"My brother does that too."

"Does what?"

"Cracks jokes every time things get a little to hard to deal with." Sam looked over and saw the other man's blue eyes soften.

"I'm sorry kid. I didn't mean anything by it." he got up and move across the room to where Sam was sitting. His heart still racing, Chris sat down at the table and started to read the paper he had just bought. He was about to start reading the front page when his attention was diverted to the television Sam had just flipped on. The local news had started and the very first story they were talking about was the news report about Chris's murder.

Teacher found murdered at Danvers

A Parks Junior High School teacher was found murdered shortly after closing last night at the Danvers Museum for Fine Arts. Museum officials say that Christopher Eddings, 34, who work part time as a museum guide, was found slashed to death by security officers shortly after 9:00 last night. Police are giving few details only asking anyone with any information to contact them immediately. Mr. Eddings who taught 8th grade…

Sam tried to shut off the TV as soon as he realized what they were talking about but it was too late. Chris sat stunned staring at the TV, a horrified look in his face, as the image of his body under a sheet was shown on the screen before it went blank again. Sam felt immediate compassion for the man.

"Chris I'm so sorry," Sam really was sorry. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I need some air." Chris said getting up and heading for the door.

"Uhh Dad said you couldn't leave." Sam said jumping up as well, blocking the door. "Don't make me have to stop you, Chris."

"Not you too kid. I can't stay here another moment. Jesus I just want to go home. I have to see Marybeth. I need to make sure she's okay." Sam could hear the desperation in his voice as he watched the older man sink to the floor, leaning back against blocked door.

Sam sank down beside him, not sure how to comfort him. Chris dropped his head into his hands and his shoulders began to shake as the last 24 hours began to finally sink in.

"I can't go home can I?" he asked looking back at Sam. Sam sadly shook his head no. While Sam had lost a brother, a tragedy he hadn't yet accepted, Chris had lost his entire life. Sam knew there weren't words adequate enough to console him. They sat that way for a short while longer until Chris wiped his face and started to get up.

"I'm sorry Sam." He said slightly embarrassed that he would appear so unmanly in front of a stranger.

"It's okay Chris. If anyone has a reason to break down I think it's you." He said taking the hand Chris lowered to help him up.

"So do you Sam, I mean you did lose your brother in a sense. I remember what it was like when I lost my family. I'd completely understand if you want to take some time and, you know. We don't have to tell your father. We'll just keep it between us."

"It's different for me Chris. Every time I look over at you, I think for that one instant that you are my brother, and it's like I haven't lost him. My head says he's gone but my heart is having a really hard time accepting it. Part of me that hopes someday we can still get my brother back…" He stopped short realizing there was only one way of doing that. If Dean's spirit still existed somewhere, and they were able to return it to his rightful body, Chris would have to vacate it first and there was only one way he could vacate it….he would have to die.

Chris nodded grimly. He too had figured that was the only way. Sam looked away desperate to find a way to change the subject. Getting up he walked to the kitchenette and started to make some coffee.

"It's ok Sam, I understand. I know what it's like to miss someone so much you would be willing to do almost anything to keep them here. I guess I do understand why your father did what he did. I can't tell you how many times I wished my family was still around, but unfortunately they died along time ago."

"You mentioned that a minute ago. If you don't mind me asking, how did your family die?" Sam winced as soon as he asked the question, his curiosity getting the better of him.

'Damn it Sammy, isn't Chris upset enough without you bringing up another painful memory.' Sam said to himself watching as the coffee started to brew. Chris saw Sam squirming and decided to cut him some slack.

"It's okay Sam, I don't mind talking about it. Pour me a cup of that coffee and I'll tell you whatever you want to know." A few minutes later they settled at the table with their coffee and Chris started to talk.

Tbc

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Authors note: I apologize for this chapter being shorter than the others. I don't know why but this chapter was harder than the others to write. I know there wasn't much action but I needed to develop Chris a little bit further. When I started, my original vision of Chris was not what jumped out on my computer as I typed. He was suppose to be more innocent, quieter, and unassuming, someone they were going to have to protect. Then I realized when you are dealing with Winchesters you have to be able to hold your own. Chris isn't used to someone making decisions for him, so he and John are gonna knock heads more than a few times I think. Anyway, thanks for reading and leave a review if you so desire.