"Be my Valentine?"
Chrys rolled her eyes at Dean's attempt at humor. Normally it would have at least gotten a smile, but she was on edge today.
"Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, wait a second," Sam said, "These hearts both have identical marks. Check this out. It looks like some kind of letter. Oh, no."
Dean frowned. "What?"
Chrys looked closely. "It's Enochian. I think it's the mark, loosely translated, for soulmates, but we'll have to ask Cass."
Dean blinked at her. "How the hell do you know that?"
"I just do," she snapped. "Call the damn angel."
Dean stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "All right."
Dean pulled his phone out, and Sam put a hand on Chrys's back. "Hey," he asked, looking down at her, "are you all right?"
She wrapped her arms around her middle and shook her head. "No, I don't know what's going on, but no." She peered up at him, noticing how tense he looked. If she hadn't been so miserable, she would have seen it earlier. "Are you?"
He shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I'm gonna hang up now."
Chrys turned to see Castiel standing in front of Dean. They both hung up their phones, Dean with a bemused expression on his face, and Castiel with no expression at all.
Chrys's temper snapped at her, and she wanted to say something snarky, but she swallowed it back. It certainly wasn't Dean, or Sam, or even Castiel's fault that she was hurting today.
It was her own.
Castiel walked over and picked up the heart. "You're right, Chrys, it is Enochian. These marks will be on the other couples' hearts, as well." His blue eyes met her own. "You and Sam will share these marks, too."
She blinked, then smirked ruefully. "Fat lot of good that did us, eh, Sammy?"
He gave her a tight smile, then turned back to Cass. "So what does that mean? Who put the marks there?"
"Well, your people call them 'Cupid.'"
As soon as they got to the restaurant, Chrys retreated to the women's restroom. Once inside, she turned and locked the door, then leaned against it and tried to take deep breaths.
She turned the light on and walked to the sink, bracing herself against the white porcelain and staring at herself in the mirror.
She was wearing her Fed suit, which was irritating and chafing and probably would be more comfortable if she wore underwear. But, since she didn't own any, she went without. Her long hair was French braided away from her face, and fell down her back in a neat line. She looked thin, and pale, and sweaty.
Chrys had very rarely wanted to shoot up this badly in her entire life.
She didn't understand, she hadn't been triggered. She had been clean for years, why was this happening now? She got an urge from time to time, but nothing like this. She had hardly been so close to going to try to find a needle.
She splashed cold water on her face and walked back out into the restaurant. She slid into the booth next to Sam, gratefully leaning into his warmth when he put his arm around her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to her temple as Dean spoke.
"So, what, you just happen to know he likes the cosmos at this place?"
Cass nodded. "This place is a nexus of human reproduction. It's exactly the kind of… Of garden the Cupid will come to… To pollinate."
Chrys wrinkled her nose. "Ew."
Dean put his cheeseburger back down, and Chrys's eyebrows went up. "You're not hungry?" Sam asked incredulously.
Dean blinked. "No. What? I'm not hungry."
Castiel's eyes lit up. "Then you're not going to finish that?" He took the cheeseburger, then froze and looked around. "He's here."
Chrys looked, too. "I don't see anything."
Cass pointed. "There."
Dean frowned. "You mean the same-side-of-the-booth couple over there?"
Chrys flushed, having sat down next to Sam without thinking about it, but pushed her embarrassment back to follow Castiel to the back of the restaurant.
"I have him tethered," the angel said abruptly. "Zoda kama mahrana. Manifest yourself."
Chrys looked around, not seeing anyone. Sam looked, too, his big hand still warm on her back.
Dean looked at Cass. "So, where is he?"
Out of nowhere, a big, mostly naked man appeared behind Dean. He wrapped his arms around the hunter and squeezed. "Here I am!"
Chrys was standing with Sam at the coroner's office, after looking at the man who had stuffed himself so full of Twinkies he had died. As they walked down the hallway, she noticed he rubbed his temples again. She put a gentle hand on his arm and stopped him. "Sam, what's wrong?"
He looked down at her. "Nothing, why?"
She rolled her eyes. "Smooth like gravel. You're lying to me. What's wrong?"
His eyes hardened. "I said nothing, Chrys, nothing is wrong."
She crossed her arms. "Lying again, Sam. No dice."
He started forward again. "I don't owe you anything, Chrys, so could you stop being a nag, please?"
She winced, hurt. He was being kind of a dick, and besides the physical affection, he'd been a dick all day. He was acting…
He was acting like she wanted to.
"Sam!" She stepped forward, grabbing his arm. "Sam, are you relapsing?"
He twirled to face her, his face pale. "What?"
She gripped his arm tighter. "Are you craving it? Demon blood? Like… Like you're going through withdrawal? You can't stop thinking about it?"
He stared down at her, his hazel eyes wide. "How did you know?" he asked softly.
She pulled her cell phone out. "We need Dean. Something fucked is going on."
Sam stood next to Chrys, his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. He was in awe of her, and touching her not only calmed the craving in his soul, but it reaffirmed that she was real, and not a figment of his imagination.
They were listening to Castiel explain. "My hunger," the angel said around the food in his mouth, "It's a clue, actually. This town is not suffering from some love-gone-wrong effect. It's suffering from hunger. Starvation, to be exact. Specifically, Famine."
Sam blinked. "Famine? As… As in, the horseman?"
Dean was glowering. "Great. That's… That's fucking great."
Chrys frowned. "I thought famine meant starvation. Like, food."
Cass nodded. "Yes. Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something. Sex, attention, drugs, love…" Chrys nodded back.
Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Well, that explains the puppy lovers that Cupid shot up."
"Right. The cherub made them crave love, and then Famine came, and made them rabid for it."
Dean sighed. "Okay, but what about you? I mean, since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?"
"It's my vessel, Jimmy. His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine's effect."
"So, Famine just rolls into town and everybody goes crazy?"
"'And then will come Famine riding on a black steed. He will ride into the land of plenty, and great will be the Horseman's hunger, for he is hunger. His hunger will seep out and poison the air.'" Cass looked at each of them in turn. "Famine is hungry. He must devour the souls of his victims."
Sam felt his flesh break out into a sweat, and he shuddered. He had no idea what the fuck was going on with his body. Is this withdrawal?
While Dean and Castiel spoke, Chrys put a hand on Sam's face. He looked down at her, watching her pretty blue eyes examine him. She smiled kindly. "Come on, Sammy."
She led him to the bathroom and wet a washcloth. Then she turned and ran it along his face. The cool water felt amazing, so he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "These are the sweats," she said softly. "It's part of the addiction, of the withdrawal. Your body is going into fight-or-flight mode."
He looked down at her, and frowned when he realized the hair at her temples was damp, and her hand was shaking as she washed his face. "Are you all right?"
She chuckled. "No, I'm going through the same thing. But helping someone else gives me something to focus on."
He nodded, and even though his skin felt too tight for his body and pinpricks of pain covered his flesh, he took the time to gently brush the wet hair away from her face. The look in her eyes made his heart stutter, and he bent down to kiss her lightly on the lips, which was probably the most either of them could handle.
He heard Cass say, "I'm an angel. I can stop anytime I want." Chrys chuckled, and it warmed Sam to see her smile.
Dean was rolling his eyes. "Whatever. Sam, Chrys, let's roll."
Sam winced, then watched as Chrys turned to the door and hung her head a little. "Dean, I can't go," she said softly.
He glared. "What?"
She took in a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm… Going through withdrawal again? I'm craving… The stuff I used to do."
He blinked. "Meth?"
Sam's hackles rose, but Chrys cut him off. "Yes." She took in another shaky breath. "Dean, I'm really sorry, but I'm going to slow you guys down. So… You and Cass go. Sam can stay here and watch the place. Go cut the bastard's finger off, then let's get the fuck out of this town."
Dean sighed, then looked at Sam. "What about you?"
Sam felt himself flush a little. "I've, uh, yeah. I've been feeling it a little."
"But I'm the problem." Chrys gave Dean a tight smile. "Sorry, Dean, I have to keep him here."
Dean pointed at her and glared. "Cram it, Summers. You can't fool me, I know he's the one who can't go. No more 'taking one for the good of the team' bullshit, Chrys, I mean it." Sam felt his face heat up, and looked at Chrys for clarification on what the fuck Dean was talking about as his brother heaved a sigh. "But you're right. The two of you would slow me down."
Chrys nodded. "And, Dean, you're gonna need to tie us up."
Chrys was in the bathroom on the floor, her left hand cuffed to the pipe beneath the sink. Sam was sitting across the room, handcuffed to the radiator. He was wincing.
"Dean got a little enthusiastic about the cuffs," he complained.
Chrys smiled and shrugged. "He's probably pretty irritated."
Sam sighed. "Something is wrong with him. He won't talk to me."
She sighed and leaned her head back against the wall. "He will, Sammy, you guys usually do in the end."
He watched her for a second. "You doing okay?"
She shook her head. "Not even a little. But this is the best it's gonna get until we can get the fuck out of here."
Before she could continue, the sound of the dresser that Castiel had blocked the door with being moved interrupted her. She frowned, then looked at Sam.
He looked as worried as she was. "Guys?" He called, "Guys, what happened? I don't think it worked."
The door opened, and two people that Chrys didn't recognize entered. Adrenaline sizzled through her, and she suddenly wished more than anything that she wasn't handcuffed.
"Look at this. Someone trussed you two up for us. Boss says we can't kill you… But I bet we can break off a few pieces." The woman said, her eyes flashing black.
The man leaned down and snapped Sam's cuffs. Chrys watched Sam knock the demon violently away, leaping into a standing position as he did so. There was a very dangerous air about Sam as he stalked toward the man, more so than usual.
He glanced at her, then went into the other room to take care of the woman. Chrys could no longer see them, but she heard shattering glass, then a silence that made her blood run cold.
The man stood and held a hand to his head, staring at the door, eyes wide.
"Sam!" Chrys called, "He's up!"
Suddenly, the demon was flung against the wall. Chrys paled, and she felt her heart stutter. Sam did that with his mind.
"Wait your turn."
It felt like a long time later, but was probably only a few minutes when Sam came back in. When he did, Chrys felt her heart stutter again.
His shirt was torn, and there was blood smeared on his face. "Sam?"
He looked down at her, his chest heaving, an indefinable emotion in his eyes. "Sammy?"
He reached down and snapped the chain attaching to her handcuff to the pipe. Chrys gasped, a little nervous, then looked up at him. She stood slowly, her back pressed against the wall, that dangerous, unstable air still rampant around him. He looked like a leashed predator.
She met his hazel eyes, and they looked feral to her. "Sam?" She whispered, trying to get through to him.
He stepped forward, crowding her against the wall without touching her. "Are you scared of me, Chrys?"
Little bit. She took in a deep breath and met his gaze again. "No."
He smirked. "Good."
He grabbed her by the hips and shoved her hard against the wall. She gasped, and her hands went to his arms, her fingers flexing on his hard biceps. She looked up at him, heat spearing down through her and making her tremble.
Suddenly, all of the wanting she had had for anything else switched focus to Sam. She wanted him, she wanted every part of him, any part of him she could get, she wanted all of him.
He was pressing light kisses down her jaw, his hands kneading her hips hard. She could feel some of the blood from his lips smearing on her skin, and while most of her was upset, the dark part of her was rejoicing. That was the part of Chrys that had her whimpering low in her throat and pressing into him.
"Did that turn you on, beautiful?" he husked against her.
"I… I don't know." She said honestly, even as she arched into him.
He hummed against her neck, nuzzling her gently, smearing blood at the same time. "Did it turn you on to see me kill those demons, beautiful? To see how much power I have?"
His words were sending lazy, sensual heat into her belly, and in between her thighs. Her breathing was ragged, and she was digging her fingers into him. "Oh, fuck, um… Yes."
He stopped. "Yes, what?"
She whimpered and pressed into him harder. "Yes, sir."
He kissed her hard, the growl deep in his chest making her dizzy. She gasped and pressed up into him, tasting blood, her arms moving up to wrap around his neck.
One of his hands started gathering her skirt and pulling it up. Simultaneously, he pulled away to press his lips to her ear. "Legs open for me, baby."
She moaned. "Yes, sir," she whispered as she spread her legs for him, she would always spread for Sam.
He hummed his approval, and his other hand moved to her neck, fingers splayed on one side and his thumb under her jaw, tilting her head up to press his lips against her neck. "Good girl," he murmured against her, as his fingers finally found her core.
He moved in lazy circles on her clit, making her arch and whimper, "Oh, Sam."
He pressed his lips to her temple as he moved his fingers through her slick heat, sinking one into her slowly. She cried out, arching into him. "God, you're such a good girl, do you think you can come for me?"
She moaned and nodded, her hips moving in sync with his hand, gasping when he slipped another finger in with the first. "Oh, fuck, yes!"
His thumb moved to her clit, putting firm pressure there and sending her higher and higher. Her fingernails dug into his arms, writhing against the wall. He still held her neck with one hand, and he put firm pressure there, too, making her eyes roll back in her head in arousal.
"Come, Chrys, come for me right now, baby," he snarled in her ear.
She opened her mouth and shrieked as she came, her hips bucking hard and her vision going white. He kept his fingers moving in her, prolonging her orgasm, making it hard to catch her breath. "Oh, Sam, please, I can't, please-"
"Shh," he purred in her ear, "shh, yes you can, sweetheart."
She moaned and shook her head, grinding the back of her head into the wall behind her. "Sam, please, I-"
"Shh, Chrys, you can, beautiful, and I want to get you there," he growled low, sending more heat and wanting deep into her. "I do, I want you in my mouth for days, I want to watch you sweat and move and beg underneath me for days, baby, but I don't think we have time."
The sound of his zipper was cutting through her haze, and she realized that his fingers were no longer in her. She whimpered and put her hands on his shoulders, using the leverage he gave her by leaning into her to lift her legs and wrap them around his waist. "Oh, God, yes, yes, fuck me!"
He slammed her against the wall and pressed his cock against her entrance. "I'll give the orders, beautiful," he said roughly. "Now, tell me you want me."
She moaned and tried to move her hips onto him. "I want you, sir."
He moved into her just a fraction, and she tried harder to move against his strength to pull him deeper. He gave a dark chuckle that reverberated through her. "Good girl, you're so good, fuck, Chrys."
She looked up at him, and saw some of her Sam, her caring, gentle giant. "Sam?" She whispered, placing a hand on his face.
He pressed his forehead to hers, keeping her gaze. "This is going to be bad, beautiful, this is going to-"
She went up and kissed him gently, stopping his warning with her lips, ignoring the blood there. "Shh, it's okay, Sammy, I want this. I want you."
He growled and slammed into her, a savage light coming into his eyes when she screamed. He set a brutal, bruising pace, and Chrys was balanced on the edge between pleasure and pain as he pounded into her.
His fingers dug into her hips, and she felt an ache start between her legs at the assault on her. There was also pleasure crashing through her, her legs were spasming, and she was screaming herself hoarse.
"Ah, God, fuck, baby, you're so good. Give me one more, Chrys, come for me one more time."
She was whimpering and writhing, and suddenly she was shattered into a million pieces as she came, ecstasy making her scream again. He didn't stop, and neither did her orgasm, so she leaned up and bit him hard on the shoulder, growling, marking him as hers. And when she tasted a trace of his blood, she kept her teeth where they were and tightened her legs around his waist, claiming him.
He growled and somehow, impossibly, rammed into her harder. Then he came down and bit her on the neck hard, but not hard enough to break skin, not enough to draw blood. Which told her that her Sam was starting to come back.
He came with a low roar, his rhythm stuttering and giving her one more hard, painful thrust, never breaking his hold on her neck with his teeth. She sighed and let his shoulder go, replacing her mouth with her forehead resting there.
His hands were on her face, and he was feathering kisses across her cheeks. "Fuck, Chrys, I'm so sorry, oh, God, beautiful-"
She didn't realize what he was talking about until she felt the wetness on her cheeks and realized that she was softly sobbing.
"You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already… Dead."
Tell me something I don't know, Dean snarked internally, mind whirling as he tried to figure out a way out of this. Need to get Cass out of here, need to get back to Sam and Chrys.
"Let him go."
Dean turned, his eyes settling on Sam. There was blood smeared on his younger brother's face, and Sam looked… Guilty?
Famine smiled. "Sam."
Panic welled in Dean. "Sammy, no!"
Two of the demons guarding Famine stepped forward to attack Sam, but were interrupted by Famine's shout. "Stop! No one lays a finger on this sweet little boy. Sam, I see you got the snack I sent you."
Dean frowned, dread heavy on his chest, and looked at his brother. Guilt and confusion were warring on Sam's face. "You sent?"
"Don't worry. You're not like everyone else. You'll never die from drinking too much. You're the exception that proves the rule. Just the way… Satan wanted you to be. So," Famine waved his hands at the five demons standing around him. "Cut their throats. Have at them!"
"Sammy, no!" Dean shouted again.
"Please, be my guest."
Dean watched in horror as Sam lifted his hand, closes his eyes, and pulled all five demons from their meatsuits at once. The black smoke pooled on the floor and stayed there.
"No," Sam said coldly, lowering his hand to the floor. Dean wondered where his brother had found all this restraint, and a splinter of ice lodged it's way into his heart.
"Well… Fine," Famine said cheerfully. "If you don't want them… Then I'll have them."
The smoke poured into the horseman's mouth, and Dean's stomach churned. He watched as Sam stepped forward and extended his hand toward Famine.
Famine chuckled. "I'm a Horseman, Sam. Your power doesn't work on me."
Sam nodded. "You're right. But it will work on them." Black smoke and white lights alike poured out of Famine's mouth while the horseman screamed. Famine slumped in his chair, dead. Dean looked at Sam, whose nose was bleeding, then to Cass, who had just stopped stuffing his face.
Sam stepped forward to get Famine's ring when a thought occurred to Dean. He frowned. "Sam, Where's Chrys?"
Sam winced. "She's, uh, outside. Listen, Dean-"
The guilt on his brother's face was enough to have Dean running out the door of the restaurant they were standing in.
He found Chrys leaning against the door of the Impala, and he saw red. There was a huge bruise on the side of her neck, her face was puffy from crying, there were still tears standing in her eyes, and the way she was leaning against the car told him exactly where else she was hurt.
"That motherfucker," he breathed out, approaching her slowly.
She smiled. "Dean, I'm all right-"
He put a gentle hand on the side of her face, his heart breaking a little. Chrys was too tough to react this way to… Anything. "Did he rape you, Chrys? Tell me the truth, God dammit," he snapped gently when she opened her mouth, fury washing through him.
She smiled wryly. "No, Dean, he didn't. I just… It was just rough."
He examined her closely, searching for any sign of lying. When he didn't find any, he pressed his lips to her forehead, eyes closing in relief. He then knelt and gently took her into his arms. "All right, let's go home. You're in the front seat, Summers."
Sam was laying on the bed in the panic room, holding Chrys next to him. She had blatantly refused to let him stay in the panic room alone, no matter how angry Dean had been. So Castiel had been the one to silently lock them into the panic room, condemning Sam with his eyes.
Not that Sam needed it. The guilt was suffocating him, even more than the withdrawal, he could barely think around it. Ironically, only Chrys was able to alleviate it, by being there, wrapped in his arms, her head resting on his sweaty, shaking shoulder.
But she hadn't been able to walk when they had left the motel room. He'd carried her the whole way into Bobby's house, even carrying her into the panic room and setting her on the bed. Castiel had tried, but hadn't been able to heal her, so here she was, stuck with Sam, who felt like an abusive rapist, but couldn't stop clinging to her.
"Ugh, Sam, if you don't stop feeling guilty, I'm gonna get Dean to give me a gun."
He started a little, then chuckled sadly. "Sorry, I-"
She put a hand on his chest and used it to sit up a little bit. "Sorry? Is that really what you wanted to say, Sammy?"
He smiled and ran a hand through her hair. "Chrys…"
She held her hand up. "God dammit, stop it. I'm an adult, Sam. I consented, I knew what I was getting into."
He frowned. "I don't see how."
She smiled and patted his chest, then laid back down. "It's like Mama said, Sam. The darkness in you is speaking to the darkness in me." She yawned hugely, making him smile. "Now shut up, and maybe we can sleep through the worst of your withdrawal."
He sighed and kept his hand in her hair. "Chrys, you don't have to stay here with me."
"Where else would I be?"
The bite mark on Chrys's neck faded in about a day.
It took her two days before she could stand without Sam's arm wrapped around her waist.
It took a week and a half for her to walk without limping.
It took much, much longer for Sam to stop feeling shitty about hurting her, especially when she never complained, or blamed him, or got mad. She just reassured him that she was okay, that she had consented, and that she wasn't upset. He didn't know how the hell it had happened, but she had already forgiven him.
The bite mark on his own shoulder took a couple weeks to heal, but he didn't say a word about it. Chrys's eyes flicked to it every once in a while when they went to bed, and she didn't say anything about it, either, but her eyes would heat up with a possessive light.
Sam didn't particularly mind it, either. The permanent mark of her claim, of her doling out a little of the pain he had inflicted on her. He just carried it, and didn't ever say out loud that he kind of liked it.
**In the middle of this chapter, for some reason, I fell in love with it. I freaking LOVE this chapter of Sam and Chrys's story, it's probably my favorite part so far.
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.
