The second time Sam woke her up, it didn't hurt at all, though it was just as desperate as the first time.


The third time, Chrys fought with herself for a few minutes, then woke him up with his cock in her mouth. He woke up moaning, his hands fisted in her hair. That time didn't hurt, either, but Sam did leave a pleasant ache in his wake, as well as hickeys on her neck and thighs.


The next morning, the two of them stood outside of Bobby's hospital room, waiting for Dean to come back. Sam was standing behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her back into his chest. Chrys couldn't remember feeling this… Happy.

Dean approached with an envelope in his hands. Chrys ignored his cocked eyebrow and pointed to it. "What's that?"

He opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. "Went to radiology, got some glamour shots. He handed the paper to her so she could hold it up to the light for both she and Sam. "Let's just say the doctors are baffled."

She tilted her head and looked at the x-ray. "That's Enochian, some sort of protection," she said thoughtfully.

Dean stared at her. "How the hell do you know that?"

She stared back. "I did a fuckton of research on angels, that's how."

He shot her a bitchface. "Whatever, he did it to you two, too."

Sam's phone rang, interrupting her and Dean's staring contest. Dick.

"Hello? Castiel?"

"Speak of the angel," Chrys said cheerfully.

Sam ignored her. "Ah, St. Martin's Hospital. Why? What are you… Cas?"

Castiel appeared behind them. Dean whirled around. "Cell phone, Cas? Really? Since when do angels need to reach out and touch someone?"

"You're hidden from angels now. All angels. I won't be able to simply-" He stopped talking, staring at Chrys.

She frowned. "What?"

"You're impure now."

Her eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

"You're impure." He looked up at Sam, who had stiffened behind her. "Do you think it's wise to fornicate with the bride of Lucifer, Sam?"

Dean stared at Chrys. "What the hell is he talking about?"

So much for happiness. "Oh, fuck no," she snapped. "Oh, absolutely not. I am not talking about my sex life with you guys." She stepped out of Sam's arms and started down the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Dean called.

"Somewhere to smoke!"

She went outside, and went far enough into the parking garage that she wouldn't get yelled at. She pulled out her pack and lighter, hands shaking. Stupid fucking angel, outing me for being a stupid fucking virgin, shoulda just taken the headache with Tom, would have made this whole situation a lot easier to-

"Chrys?"

She tensed at Sam's hesitant voice behind her. "Go inside, Sam. I'm not talking to you about this. Just go inside."

"Chrys, were you… Uh…"

She sighed and lit her cigarette, inhaling deeply before turning around. "What part of 'not talking to you about this' was difficult for you to grasp, Samuel?"

"Fuck," he said quietly. "You were a virgin. Fuck, Chrys, why didn't you tell me?"

She sighed and tilted her head back. "Do we have to do this, Sam? It's not a big deal."

He scoffed. "Not a big deal? Chrys, that was a terrible first time."

She looked at him and smirked. "I don't know about that. I had fun."

She took another drag as she watched him run a frustrated hand through his hair. "You know what I mean, Chrys. You first time should be… Special. Gentle. Different."

She rolled her eyes. "Sam, it doesn't matter."

"It matters to me!" he shouted. "Chrys, if I had known, I would have done things differently. I mean, your first time should be with someone who-"

"Loves me?" She snapped, furious again. "Yeah, well, no one does, Sam. So you were the next best thing. Will you please leave me alone now?"

He stared at her, shock and sympathy written across his face. It pissed her off. "I was going to say someone who knows, maybe someone who cares about you."

She rolled her eyes again, dropping the half-smoked cigarette onto the ground and smashing it with her shoe. "Well, no one does that, either, Sam. Honestly, it was fine. I had fun, I got off, we did it three times. Can we just move on, please?"

He looked uncomfortable, and Chrys was glad. She was uncomfortable, so he should be, too. "Look," she said softly, cursing her inability to leave it alone. "I was a virgin because I didn't have a choice. Anytime I got past first base with someone, it hurt. Splitting migraines, nosebleeds, the whole nine yards. So yeah, I was a virgin. And now I'm not." She stepped forward and placed a hand on his cheek. "And last night was good. It was great, as far as I'm concerned. So please, no more sad puppy dog eyes, okay?"

He looked down at her, his arms slowly coming up to circle her waist. "If I had known, I would have-"

"But you didn't," she said softly. "And it was fine, Sam."


Sam looked down at her lovely, pleading face, and was torn.

The night before had been amazing. Her moving beneath him, her hot mouth on him, her hands pulling his hair when she came in his mouth. It had been incredible.

But it had been rough, and desperate. He had need a release, he had needed something, and he had used her for it. He had used her and sex to make himself feel better. And now he felt worse than ever, because he had taken her first time away from her.

He followed as she led him back into the hospital. He was distracted from his misery by the sound of Bobby arguing with Cass.

"You're telling me you lost your mojo just in time to get me stuck in this trap the rest of my life?"

"I'm sorry." Castiel at least had the decency to sound sincere.

"Shove it up your ass."

Sam and Chrys got back in time to see Bobby turn back to look out the window and ignore the rest of them.

Dean turned to them. His eyes flicked to Chrys, but he didn't say anything, for which Sam was grateful. "Well, at least he's talking now," he said instead.

"I heard that." Bobby snapped.

Castiel turned back to the three of them. "I don't have much time. We need to talk."

"Okay."

"Your plan to kill Lucifer," he started, looking at Dean.

Sam could practically feel Chrys roll her eyes. "It's stupid. Never going to work," she said evenly.

Dean whipped around. "Hey, Summers, thanks for the support."

She ignored him to look at Castiel, who was giving her an appraising stare. "Do you have a different plan, Castiel?"

He nodded slowly. "I believe I have the solution. There is someone besides Michael strong enough to take on Lucifer. Strong enough to stop the apocalypse."

Sam wrapped an arm around Chrys's waist and pulled her to him, her back against his chest. She came willingly. "Who's that?" he asked, hope blooming in his chest.

"The one who resurrected me and put you on that plane. The one who began everything. God. I'm going to find God."

Sam's eyebrows raised as Dean sputtered, "God?"

"Yes."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "God?"

Castiel was becoming irritated. "Yes! He isn't in heaven. He has to be somewhere."

"Try New Mexico," Chrys said cheerfully. "I hear he's on a tortilla."

Castiel frowned at her. "No, he's not on any flatbread. And I doubt the woman bound to Lucifer would be a valid source of information."

Sam felt Chrys stiffen, and he frowned. "Hey," he snapped, tightening the arm he had around her.

"Yeah, fuck you," she snarled at the angel.

"Listen, Chuckles," Dean said loudly, eyeing them both, "even if there is a God, he is either dead, and that's the generous theory-"

"He is out there, Dean." Castiel interrupted.

"-or he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us. I mean, look around you, man. The world is in the toilet. We are literally at the end of days here, and he's off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut. All right?"

"Enough," Castiel said firmly. "This is not a theological issue. It's strategic. With God's help, we can win."

Dean shook his head. "It's a pipe dream, Cass."

Castiel glared and advanced on Dean."I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled. And I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. You and your brother destroyed the world, and I lost everything, for nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself."

Sam winced, pain and guilt lancing through his heart. Which was probably why he didn't grab Chrys in time.

"Hey," she snarled, stepping toward until she was poking the angel in the chest. "You guys are the ones who messed up, fly boy. Your brothers let this happen. Don't go blaming Sam or Dean just because they happen to be the tools you bastards are using to start the apocalypse. So you keep your opinions to your fucking self."

Castiel was glowering at her, and lights started to flicker in the room. Panic wormed it's way into Sam at the sight of her so close to danger. "Chrys, it's-"

"Shut up, Sammy," she said, not unkindly. "Don't say, 'it's okay,' because it's not. If he claims to be on our side, then he needs to admit that you guys didn't start this, they did."

Castiel straightened to his full height, every inch a soldier. "You owe me some respect, Chrysanthemum Summers."

She didn't move. "I don't owe you a damn thing, Castiel, Angel of the Lord. Where the hell were you guys when Lucifer was ruining my entire damn life? Where were you when he was choosing me to carry devil spawn?"

The angel was still silent, fury rolling off of him in waves. The lights were flickering hard, giving off a strobe effect. Sam couldn't help but be a little in awe of Chrys as she stood her ground when sparks started falling around her.

"You don't scare me, Castiel," she said softly. "Now, I assume you didn't just come here to take pot shots at me and yell at us?"

He kept her gaze for another minute, then the angel turned to look at Dean. "I did come for something. An amulet."

Bobby perked up a little bit. "An amulet? What kind?"

"Very rare. Very powerful. It burns hot in God's presence. It will help me find him."

Sam frowned, his mind whirring. "A God EMF?" He took Chrys's hand without thought when she returned to his side

Castiel nodded, still looking at Chrys with distrust.

Bobby shrugged. "Well, I don't know what you're talking about. I got nothing like that."

Castiel's eyes flicked to Bobby. "I know. You don't." The angel turned to look at Dean, then dropped his gaze to the amulet around Dean's neck.

Dean looked down. "What, this?"

Castiel nodded. "May I borrow it?"

Dean frowned. "No."

"Dean. Give it to me."

Chrys almost literally growled, and Sam snaked an arm around her waist quickly, before she assaulted the angel. "Chrys, chill," he muttered. Her struggles against his arm stilled immediately, and he felt the anger at the order he'd given radiating off of her.

"Fuck him, Dean, don't do it," she snapped.

Dean met her eyes, then Sam's. There was sorrow there, and confusion. He slowly took the amulet off and handed it to Castiel. "Don't lose it," he snapped.

Castiel took it, and Dean looked uncomfortable. "Now I feel naked." Chrys snorted.

Castiel ignored them both. "I'll be in touch." He disappeared.


Chrys laughed out loud when Ellen smacked Dean upside the head. "You can't pick up a phone? What are you, allergic to giving me peace of mind? I got to find out that you're alive from Rufus?" Ellen was glaring.

Dean rubbed his head where she had hit him. "Sorry, Ellen."

"Yeah, you better be." She pointed threateningly. "You better put me on speed dial, kid."

Dean nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Chrys grinned and looked at Sam. "I like her."

He smiled down at her as they walked, and it made her heart flutter a little. "I figured you would."

Dean glanced back at them, then looked back at Ellen. "What's going on, Ellen?"

She sighed. "More than I can handle alone."

"How many demons are there?" Sam asked. Chrys unthinkingly slipped her hand into his as they walked. He took it, rubbing his thumb over hers.

Ellen glanced back at them. "Pretty much the whole town, minus the dead people and

these guys." She stopped at the closed door at the of the hall a looked back at them. "So, this is it, right? End times? It's got to be."

Sam nodded, his hand squeezing Chrys's a little tighter. "Seems like it."

Ellen nodded then turned to knock on the door. "It's me."

The door opened to reveal several very nervous looking people, but one man drew Chrys's attention immediately. He was older, wearing glasses, and looking skeptically at them. Looking at him made Chrys's skin crawl, and her hand involuntarily tightened around Sam's.

He looked down at her mouth "Chrys?" he whispered as Ellen made introductions. She met his eyes and shook her head, not trusting that the man wouldn't hear her.

They needed to get the hell out of there.


"Dean doesn't trust me," Sam said as he filled a bag with salt.

They were in a Quick-Mart, getting salt for the guns. Sam collected the stuff while Chrys covered the door

Chrys rolled her eyes. "You lied to him, Sammy, of course he doesn't trust you. I wouldn't either."

She could feel him giving her bitchface, but didn't turn around. "You know, agreeing with me wouldn't kill you, Chrys." He sounded petulant.

"The very moment you're right, I will agree with you whole-heartedly," she said easily, watching the street. "Until then, no. You don't get a pass just because you're my soulmate."

He scoffed behind her, and she sighed. Jackass, she thought affectionately.

They were interrupted by two men entering the store. They glared at Chrys, who kept the gun trained on them. Their eyes were clear.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" She asked calmly.

"Demon whore," one of them snarled, advancing.

Chrys calmly fired a shot into the ground in front of him, forcing him to stop. "Rude," she said mildly. "Now, I may miss the next time I fire a warning shot, guys, so go ahead and tell me what's going on before I shoot you." She felt warmth at her back as Sam came to stand behind her, one hand on her shoulder.

"They're both demons," the one who hadn't made a move said warily.

"Chrys, they're demons, why are you talking to them?" Sam asked.

She didn't move, letting her mind mull over the situation they were in. "No, they're not," she said softly. "They're just teenagers, Sam."

"What?"

She reached one hand slowly into Sam's pocket, pulling out the bottle with the rosary in it. She held it up for the teenagers to see, ignoring his whispered protests. "You boys know what this is?"

They nodded.

"Good." She handed the bottle to Sam. "Take a swig of that, handsome, then pour some on me."

"Chrys, this is-"

"Sam!" She snapped. "For God's sake. If you want me to have faith in you, how about having a little bit of it in me?"

He was silent for a moment. Relief washed over here when she heard the plastic I'd being unscrewed, then the beads of the rosary clinking against the bottle. "See?"She said to the men. "Not a demon." He leaned forward and poured a little bit onto her arm."Me, either."

Sam screwed the cap back on and tossed the bottle to them. "Now you."

Once everyone had been properly proven not possessed, the two men relaxed and Chrys pointed the gun to to floor, but never released it.

"Your eyes are back to normal," one of them said to her.

Sam nodded. "Yours, too."

She looked between them. "So no one was possessed, but everyone saw black eyes?" The three of them nodded. "What the fuck is going on?"


They were back with Ellen's people. Chrys was tense and scared, which she wasn't used to. "So, I repeat, what the fuck is going on?"

Dean shook his head. "I have no idea." He turned to Ellen. "Do you know why Rufus came to town? Was there a specific omen?"

Ellen shrugged. "He said something about water. That's all I know."

Chrys turned to Roger, fighting the urge to sweat when she looked at him. "Padré, you know what she's talking about? The water?"

He looked back at her. "The river. Ran polluted all of a sudden."

"When?"

Austin, the young soldier, answered. "Last Wednesday. And the demon thing started up the next day."

Chrys frowned. She felt Sam come up next to her, and she looked up as he slung his arm around her shoulders. She smiled and leaned into him gratefully, warmth blooming in her chest when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Anything else? Anything?" Dean was asking.

Austin shrugged. "Maybe, but it's pretty random."

Dean nodded encouragingly. "Good. Random's good."

"Shooting star. Does that count? Real big. Same night. Wednesday."

"That definitely counts." Dean stood and went to the bookshelf. He pulled a bible off and came back to stand with them. He flipped it open, rifled through some pages, then read aloud. "'And there fell a great star from heaven, burning like a torch, and it fell upon the river, and the name of the star was Wormwood. And many men died.'"

Pastor Roger. "Revelation eight ten. Are you saying that this is about the apocalypse?"

Dean nodded. "You could say. And these specific omens, they're prelude to what?"

Chrys paled. "The Four Horsemen." She looked at Dean. "The Mustang out front. The red one. War. War rides the red horse."

Roger frowned. "You can't think that a car-"

Chrys glared at him "It's the way I'd do it. I mean, think about it. It all makes sense. If War is a person and he's here, maybe he's messing with our heads."

She looked up at Sam, who nodded. "Turning us on each other."

Dean turned to them. "You said those kids thought you were demons. They think we're demons, we think they're demons. What if there are no demons at all and we're all just killing each other?"

Roger shook his head. "Wait, just back up. It's the apocalypse?"

Chrys shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, Padré."


Sam watched Chrys go down her designated hallway with unease in his stomach. They had managed to get into the house with the other group in it. Some had been subdued, but others were still convinced that Ellen's group were demons. Sam didn't want Chrys to search any part of the house by herself, but she assured him she could handle it, and they had no other choice.

He shook his thoughts away internally and started up the stairs, adrenaline making his vision sharp. This was good, action was good. Action was what would eventually get Dean to trust him again.

He opened a door, swinging his gun in, and realized it was a closet. He closed it firmly and started again down the hallway.

Chrys had figured it out before any of them what was going on, and Sam was willing to admit to himself that that was hot as fuck. And she had jumped right into the thick of it, holding a shotgun and fighting "demons," without complaint. This was his life, and she seemed to fit into it perfectly.

He opened the next door and was immediately thrown across the room into the wall, watching as the door swung shut. Roger was standing behind it. Sam glared. "You."

"Roger" spread his hands wide and grinned. "Me! You caught me. Popped in to watch. I can hustle like that."

Sam tried to think quickly, but he was held against the wall. "So, the Roger everyone around here knows, the real Roger?"

"Buried in a ditch."

Sam winced. Hurry up, Dean. He had no doubt his brother could save him, as long as Sam could stall a little. "So, you're War," he said tightly. "You're doing this."

War chuckled. "Please. Last week, this was Mayberry. Now these people are stabbing each other's children."

"'Cause you made them see demons!" Sam shouted, frowning.

War was shaking his head. "Honestly, people don't need a reason to kill each other. I mean, you seen the Irish? They're all Irish." Sam rolled his eyes. "You think I'm a monster," War continued, "But I'm jello shots at a party. I just remove inhibitions."

"I'm gonna kill you myself." Sam snapped.

War laughed out loud. "Oh, that's adorable, considering you're my poster boy."

Confusion hindered Sam's anger. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can't stop thinking about it, ever since you magically got clean. You wanted to kill those boys in the store, but your slut didn't let you."

Sam glared and pulled against whatever power easy holding him down. "You're wrong."

"Save your protests for your brother and the whore. I can see inside your head. And man, it is one-track city in there. Blood, blood, blood. Lust for power. Same as always. You want to be strong again. But not just strong. Stronger than everybody. Good intentions, quick slide to hell, buddy boy. You feel bad now? Wait till you're thigh deep in warm corpses. Because, my friend, I'm just getting started."

"You're really not." Chrys spoke from behind Sam, and a shotgun blast rang out. War flew back and fell limply against the wall.

Ears ringing, he looked around to see her standing just behind him, her eyes not leaving War. "You all right there, handsome?"

"I'm fine, Chrys." He tried " move, but was still held fast.

She nodded. "Good." She stepped around him and approached War.

He sneered at her. "Lucifer's woman, I don't believe I-"

She hit him across the face with the barrel of her gun before he could finish. "I have a name, you know," she said mildly. "It would be super fun if y'all started using it."

Dean came in. "Chrys?"

She didn't turn. "Dean, his ring. Come cut his finger off."

War's eyes widened as the oldest Winchester approached him. "What? No!"

Dean ignored him and pulled the knife out of his belt. War looked at Chrys desperately. "I can help you break your bond to Lucifer!"

Everything in Sam stilled, and he stared at War, then turned to Chrys. Dean had also turned to her, waiting for her command.

Her face had gotten hard, her blue eyes like steel. "You lying motherfucker," she whispered. Then, "Cut it off, Dean."

Dean turned and sliced all four fingers on the man's hand off. The ring clinked to the floor, and the rest of his body disappeared.


**The response to this story is completely overwhelming. I'm so humbled. Thank you so much.
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