"So, pit stop at Mount Doom?"
Dean was holding the ring from War, and Chrys just looked at him. She was too tired to banter with either of them, so she just lay her head on Sam's shoulder.
Sam was silent for a moment. "Dean-"
"Sam, let's not."
Sam shook his head. "No, listen. This is important. I know you don't trust me." Dean looked away, and Chrys put her hand on Sam's thigh in a show of comfort. "Just, now I realize something. I don't trust me either."
Chrys sat up and looked at him, seeing Dean do the same out of the corner of her eye.
Sam avoided both of their gazes. "From the minute I saw those kids, only thought in my head… And I tell myself it's for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it, it feels true, you know? But I think, underneath… I just miss the feeling. I know how messed up that sounds, which means I know how messed up I am. Thing is, the problem's not the demon blood, not really. I mean, I, what I did, I can't blame the blood or Ruby or… Anything. The problem's me. How far I'll go. There's something in me that.. Scares the hell out of me, Dean. In the last couple of days, I caught another glimpse."
Chrys's head whipped to look at Dean when he spoke. "So what are you saying?"
"I'm in no shape to be hunting. I need to step back, 'cause I'm dangerous. Maybe it's best we just… Go our separate ways."
Dean nodded after a moment. "Well, I think you're right."
Sam looked hurt. "I was expecting a fight."
It was Dean's turn to avoid his brother's eyes. "The truth is I spend more time worrying about you than about doing the job right. And I just, I can't afford that, you know? Not now."
Sam nodded. "I'm sorry, Dean."
"I know you are, Sam."
Sam stood up, but Chrys stayed where she was. She nodded firmly. "Ah, good. Yes, let's pretend this is a good idea. Let's really commit." She tilted her head back and groaned. "Fucking idiots."
"Hey-"
"How did they let Lucifer rise?" She asked, glaring at them both. "How did they start the apocalypse? By keeping you two apart. So you, the fucking Winchesters, are going to give them exactly what they want?"
Sam frowned and examined her. "We'll get back together, Chrys. This isn't permanent."
She turned to look at Dean. To his credit, he met her eyes before looking away. "Is it, Dean?" She asked softly. "Do you plan on calling Sam back?"
When he didn't say anything, she turned back to Sam. "You have to see how stupid this is. You guys are stronger together. You're weak when you're apart, Sammy."
"Chrys, come on, please don't. Let's just go."
Infuriated, she crossed her arms. "Well, I'm not leaving Dean."
A dangerous look crossed Sam's face. "Chrys, come on, I'm walking away."
Why is he so angry? It didn't make sense to her, she defied him regularly. Ignoring the shiver of trepidation working its way through her, she continued.
"Not if you don't want me in the hospital you're not," she snapped. "This is stupid, Sam, and if it takes me planting my ass on this bench and-"
"Chrys, shut up and come here."
She was too shocked to fight back as her body did as it was told. She stood in front of him and looked back at Dean, who looked a little horrified.
"Look at me, Chrys," Sam snapped. She turned and glared at him. "We're not arguing about this. This isn't about you. It's about Dean and I. Understood?"
Ouch. Just when she had started to feel like part of the team, like she was helping instead of hurting. He couldn't know how much that had hurt her. And she wasn't going to clue him in.
"Fine," she said quietly, looking down to blink away the tears in her eyes.
"Good. Let's go."
Sam walked down the road next to Chrys, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Do you, uh, do you want me to carry your bag?"
"Bite me, Winchester."
That went about as well as was expected.
He didn't know what the hell had come over him when he'd ordered her to come with him. Just… Just, the thought of her leaving him, of her choosing Dean over him, had made him completely furious. For no reason. She hadn't been choosing Dean, she had been arguing her point, he knew that.
So why did the thought still make him see red?
He tried to internally shake those thoughts away. He looked at her again. "So, how did you know those kids weren't demons?"
She rolled her eyes, and he couldn't help but admire her long, shiny hair draped over her shoulder. "I don't know, Samuel, I just could. Their eyes weren't black when I looked at them."
He frowned, irritated. "It's Sam."
"Fuck you."
Smooth, Sam, really smooth. He let the silence reign for a while longer, just the sounds of their footsteps breaking it.
The sound of her lighter caught his attention, and he turned to see her taking a drag and shoving the lighter back into her bag. He frowned. "You really shouldn't smoke, you know."
The anger in her eyes took him aback. "Fuck you, Sam. Don't want me to do it? Order me to quit," she snapped.
If looks could kill, I would be a dead man. He sighed. "Chrys, I'm sorry about earlier."
"Eat me."
"Lovely," he snapped, irritated. "I'm trying to apologize."
Her eyebrows went up. "Yeah? Well, just out of curiosity, how many times you gonna force me to do something, and then apologize for it? I just want to start keeping a tally."
He struggled with his temper, which Chrys seemed to bring out like no one he'd ever met. "Chrys," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm trying to apologize."
She stopped walking and stared at him incredulously. "Seriously, Sam? You seriously think that apologizing to me is going to make the fact that you keep raping my mind any better?"
The mention of rape had his blood running cold. "Chrys, you know I would never-"
"Do I?" she asked evenly. "Because you seem to be perfectly okay with using it in any other situation."
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Chrys, look, I'm really sorry, I don't know what else to say."
"There's nothing else to say, Sam." Her voice was shaking. He looked up and was shocked at the tears standing in her blue eyes. "Look, Sam, I hate this situation," she said softly. "I hate that I have to follow you around. I hate that I seem to have some sort of built-in Stepford wife switch in my head." A tear trickled down her cheek. "I hate that I can't go be with someone else, I hate that I can't be away from you. And I know you must hate it, too. And that you must hate me."
She looked up again, and the pain in her face staggered him. "But you have got to cut me some slack, Sam, I'm begging you. Three weeks ago I was a bartender, and I am trying to adjust, truly, I am, but you've got to give me a minute."
She wiped her eyes. "So no, I'm not going to just forgive you for pulling that bullshit. The only thing I can control right now is how mad I am at you, so fuck you, I'll be as mad as I want."
He stepped toward her, and was relieved that she didn't step back. "Chrys, I don't hate you."
She gave a derisive snort. "Yeah, okay, sure." She started to step around him. "Let's just go."
He grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him, cupping her face with his hand. "Chrys, I don't hate you."
She examined him closely. "Who you trying to convince, Sammy?"
He looked at her for a long time. "I don't know."
He leaned down and kissed her hard. Relief swept through him when she dropped her bag and slipped her arms around his neck, kissing him back with enthusiasm. He dropped his own bag to put his hands on her slim hips, lifting her, and grinning when she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Good girl," he murmured into her mouth, and he relished the shiver it sent through her. Her long, billowing skirt covered both of them quite neatly, and he felt her hook her ankles at the small of his back.
He ran his tongue along her bottom lip and moaned when she opened immediately. He swept his tongue into her mouth and started walking, desperately looking for a suitable place out of the corner of his eye. She was grinding down onto him, whimpering softly, and she was driving him crazy.
He finally found a relatively flat spot. He knelt, then leaned forward over her. She didn't let go, just kept kissing her way down his neck, making his thoughts fuzzy. He leaned down and kissed her hard. "Stay here?" he asked, meeting her eyes to let her know it wasn't an order. He took a moment to tenderly wipe the last remnants of tears from her face.
She nodded, and he leaned back to pull his jacket off and spread it on the flat area next to her. She watched him with a soft smile. "Always a gentleman," she teased softly.
He leaned over her again, slowly taking her hips into his hands again. "There is nothing gentlemanly about the things I want to do to you, Chrys," He growled, picking her up and moving her to lay on his jacket.
His words had the desired effect, and he watched her eyes darken with lust.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her collarbone, slowly making his way down. He sucked her nipple into his mouth through the fabric of her shirt, grinning when she arched her back. "Sam!"
He grinned against her chest and moved to pay the same attention to her other breast, reveling in the way she moved beneath him.
He kissed his way down her flat stomach until he was just under her waist, looking up to meet her eyes when she propped herself on her elbows to look at him. He winked, then sat back to gather her skirts in his hands, and promptly pulled them over himself as he adjusted to lay himself in front of her.
"Oh, God," she groaned, already lifting her long, graceful legs to rest on his shoulders
"Good girl," he praised softly, kissing her inner thigh. He ran his tongue lightly up her outer folds, chuckling when her hips bucked.
"Fuck!" She cried out, and he smiled against her.
He buried his face into her, running his tongue across her clit in long, slow strokes. He finally had to move his hands to hold her hips, because they were bucking with abandon now, accompanying her soft cries into the sky.
When he sensed that she was getting close, he cautiously moved one hand and sunk a finger into her fast, then another finger joined the first. When she was there, he curled his fingers and sucked on her clit hard, soaking in the screams coming from her.
He lapped at her gently, avoiding her now oversensitive clit as she came down. Once she was calm again, he sat back up, freeing himself from her skirt with no help from Chrys, who was laying in blissful afterglow.
He grinned and came to lay next to her, propping himself up on his elbow, and laying his other hand on her stomach.
She cracked an eye and looked at him. "Listen, your skill with your mouth will not get you out of the trouble it gets you into, Sammy."
He nuzzled her neck and jaw, murmuring his assent. The way she smelled, like clean, healthy woman, was driving him crazy.
He felt hands on his chest and grunted a little when she pushed him onto his back and straddled him, arranging her skirt over them. "I'm serious, Sam," her low voice sending heat down through his core and straight to his cock. "You're not getting out of it that easy."
She ground herself down, and Sam tilted his head back when he felt her heat through the denim. "Chrys."
She smirked and leaned down to nibble on his jaw, moving her way up to his ear as she kept pressing her center against his aching cock. "I'm going to have you calling my name, Sammy."
Sam had no doubts that she was correct when she sat up, dragging her nails down his chest. "Tell me you want me, Sam," she said huskily.
Make her work for it. He stayed silent, just tilting his head back.
Her low laugh nearly killed him. "All right, handsome, we can play it that way." She sat up, and he almost moaned at the loss of contact. "You wanted me the moment you saw me. I saw you start preening."
He chuckled, trying to press his hips up to hers. "Maybe I preen for every beautiful woman who punches me in the face."
"Not like you did for me," she said confidently. "You've never felt anything like you did when you saw me, Sammy," she purred.
She was right. He'd never been hit this hard, he'd never wanted someone as bad as he did Chrys. And she still wasn't touching him.
He grabbed her hips and bucked, turning her so she was on her back. He brushed a tendril of black hair away from her face and met that crazily blue gaze. "I want you, Chrys."
She smirked. "Then take me."
Her hands on his belt almost made him come in his fucking pants. He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything else as she undid his belt and pulled his cock out of his boxers.
"Hey," she said softly, and he felt a soft hand on his face. "You with me?"
He opened his eyes and almost lost himself in her eyes. "Yeah, beautiful," he said huskily. "Yeah, I'm with you."
She rolled her eyes. "Well, be in me, Sam."
No further prompting was needed. He lined himself up with her hot, slick entrance and buried himself in her in one fast, hard thrust. She cried out, and the sound fed his possessive soul.
His pace was hard and fast, and he leaned down and bit her shoulder, sucking hard and growling softly.
"Sam!"
He reached a hand down and fought through her bunched up skirt to touch her. He grinned when she clenched around him. He rubbed circles around her clit, not touching her where she needed him.
"God dammit, Sam-"
"Do you want to come, Chrys?"
"Yes!"
He smirked. "Then you're gonna have to beg me for it."
He barely had time to register the dangerous look in her eyes before she was bucking underneath him, flipping them over so she was on top. She sank down on him hard, and they both moaned when he bottomed out.
She tilted her head forward and rested her hands on his chest, her hair making a curtain around her. "No."
When she moved, all of the banter left Sam. Her rhythm was slow and sensual, and drove all coherent thought from his head. He moaned, rolling his head back and gripping her hips hard.
It wasn't long before she started convulsing over him. Even through her orgasm, she leaned down to him, meeting his eyes. "Say my name, Sammy, say it."
She came down hard onto him and twisted her hips. Euphoria exploded through him, and before he could stop it, he was shouting.
"Fuck, Chrys!"
Her amused, satisfied chuckle played in the background of his wet dreams for years.
The next part part of the walk was much more relaxed, and Sam was glad. He didn't like Chrys being mad at him.
They walked side by side and hand in hand. He squeezed hers gently. "Hey, what War said. About breaking the bond with Lucifer. Do you really think he was lying?"
She nodded. "I looked everywhere, Sam. I looked for years. The only way to break the bond is if I die, and even that is only a guess."
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.
