"Dear Diary, being a high powered business president is super-fun. But sooo exhausting. Sometimes, I just need to relax. I need Casa Erotica."

Chrys watched with narrowed eyes as there was a knock on the "business president's" room door. "Did… Did he give us porn?"

They were standing on the side of the road, watching the DVD that the archangel Gabriel had given Dean, right before sacrificing himself. Chrys was wrapped in Sam's strong arms, leaning against him as they watched.

"Gabriel wanted you to guard this with your life?" Sam asked, his low voice rumbling in her ear.

Dean shrugged. "Maybe he's a fan. It is a good one."

Chrys's eyebrows rose when Gabriel appeared on the screen. "I've got the kielbasa you ordered."

Chrys laughed, and the scantily clad woman on screen purred, "Ooh. Polish?"

Gabriel, who was wearing a ridiculous fake mustache, cocked an eyebrow. "Hungarian."

He tossed the tray he had been holding and grabbed the woman, kissing her sloppily.

Chrys wrinkled her nose. "Ew."

"What the hell is going on?" Sam asked.

Gabriel suddenly lying let the woman go, removed the mustache, and looked at the camera.

"Sam, Dean, Chrys. You're probably wondering what the hell is going on. Well, if you're watching this, I'm dead." He held a hand up. "Oh, please! Stop sobbing, it's embarrassing for all of us." The angel put his hand down and gave them a cocky grin through the screen. "Without me, you've got zero shot at killing Lucifer. Sorry! But you can trap him. The cage you sprung Lucifer from? It's still down there. And maybe, just maybe, you can shove his ass back in." He held up a finger. "Not that it will be easy. You gotta get the cage open, trick my bro back into it, and, oh yeah, avoid Michael and the God Squad. But, hey, details, right? And here's the big secret, Lucifer himself doesn't even know, the key to the cage? It's out there. Actually, it's keys, plural. Four keys, well, four rings. From the Horsemen. You get 'em all, you got the cage." He sighed. "Can't say I'm bettin' on you boys, but, uh, hey! I've been wrong before."

The angel sobered. "Chrys, I don't know what Lucifer going into the cage will do to you, or the bun you're cooking. So be careful, but this is still our only shot. And Dean, you were right. I was afraid to stand up to my brother, but not anymore." Gabriel stood. "So this is me, standing up."

He turned and grabbed the woman. "And this is me, lying down." He tossed her onto the bed.

Chrys winced and slammed the laptop shut. "Gross."

Dean looked thoughtful. "Horsemen, huh? Well, we got War's. We nicked Famine's. That's two down. Collect all four?"


"And Dean just walks out the door with Crowley."

Chrys was listening to Sam bitch about Dean to Bobby in the other room. She was sitting in the kitchen of the shithole Crowley had brought them to, chewing on her thumb, nervous. She was nervous for Dean, nervous for Sam, nervous for herself. This situation is completely fucked.

Crowley had approached them with an offer to give them Pestilence. Then he had carefully worded and walked his way around the fact that he didn't actually know where Pestilence was, but knew someone who would know. Chrys had never rolled her eyes so hard in her life.

Sam had been livid that Crowley had shown his face. Chrys thought that most of it was because Crowley had given them the Colt, and she had almost died. But she thought the rest of it was probably because Crowley had, without warning, shown up in the backseat of Baby, right next to her. Sam was normally pretty protective, but since the baby, it had gotten worse.

But Dean had gone with him, and Chrys silently agreed with that call. They had no other options. There was no other way, how the hell were they supposed to find a Horseman by themselves?

In the other room, Sam scoffed. "Yeah, maybe."

There was a moment of silence, and the little hairs on Chrys's neck stood up on end. She turned to stare at the door of the room as Sam continued. "Hey, Bobby?" A beat. "Uh, do you remember that time you were possessed?"

Chrys rolled her eyes, almost hearing Bobby's snarky remark in her head. Sam kept going. "When Meg told you to kill Dean, you didn't. You took your body back." Another few moments. "Well, how'd you do it? I mean, how'd you take back the wheel?"

Chrys frowned. What?

"Say we can open the cage. Great. But then what? We… We just lead the devil to the edge and get him to jump in?"

A few moments passed. "What if you guys lead the devil to the edge and I jump in?"

Chrys's heart stopped and her blood ran cold.

"It'd be just like when you turned the knife around on yourself. One action, just one leap." Chrys heard Bobby shouting over the phone, but couldn't make out the words. "It's not like that," Sam protested, "I'm not gonna do it. Not unless we all agree. But I think we got to look at our options." Another beat. "Why not?"

The pain in Sam's voice made her want to go to him, but she couldn't move her legs. "I know, Bobby, I know, but… I mean, I'd rather she be raised without me than with fucking Lucifer walking around topside. I can't… I can't let that happen. To Chrys or the baby."

Chrys closed her eyes against the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her. Oh, Sammy…

"Yeah, yeah, I am." He paused. "I'm strong enough."

Chrys bent to put her head in her hands, devastated. Knew it was too good to be true.

When she had realized she was pregnant, and had told Sam, and he'd been almost happy about it, she should have been on the lookout for disaster. Domestic bliss wasn't in her future. Hell was.

She didn't move a muscle at Sam's muttered, "Fuck." Must have realized he left the door open.

She did lift her head when she heard his footsteps. The distraught look on his face had her standing and walking to him on instinct, wrapping her arms around his waist to offer comfort. "It's okay, Sammy," she said gently. "I… I get it, I understand."

He pressed her into him, looking down at her. "Chrys… Chrys, I-"

Before he could continue, she went up and kissed him thoroughly. She didn't want to hear it.

She knew now, she understood. She knew why she had always had faith in Sam, but had also always known they would lose.

Sam would defeat Lucifer, she had no doubt. Sam would find a way to overpower the devil and send him right back to hell.

But they would lose Sam.

She stemmed her tears again as their mouths moved against each other. Don't you dare cry, Summers, she scolded herself, crying won't help anyone.


The sound of the door opening had Sam looking up from where he was sitting with Chrys on the bed. He frowned as they stood, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist.

He couldn't stop touching her. He had always had trouble keeping his hands off of her, but since he'd found out about the baby, it had gotten worse. He always wanted to have some part of him on some part of her.

And now… Knowing that the only good plan they had available gave him a very limited number of days to live, it was much worse.

They walked through to the front room of the ramshackle house to see Crowley standing there. Sam frowned again. "Where's Dean?"

Crowley ignored him. "Now, for the record, I'm against this. Negotiating a high level defection… It's very delicate business."

Dread started to pool in Sam's gut. "What are you talking about.

Crowley ignored him again. "I begged Dean not to come back. We should be miles away… From you. He replied with a colorful rejoinder about my 'corn chute.'"

Chrys's light laughter made Sam's heart flutter. Crowley shot her a wink, then looked back at Sam and waved his hand. "So, go ahead. Go, ruin our best hope. It's only the end of the world."

Sam turned and saw Dean standing in another room. He walked in, Chrys trailing behind him, to see Dean looking at a man tied up in a chair, with a hood over his head.

Dean looked over, an unreadable expression on his face. "Sam. Chrys."

"What's up, Winchester?" Chrys said casually. Sam heard the underlying tension in her voice, but thought that maybe if someone didn't know her, they wouldn't have.

Sam nodded. "What's going on, Dean?"

Dean approached them slowly, and trepidation joined the dread in Sam's stomach. "I need you to stay on mission, okay?" Dean said cautiously. "Focused."

Chrys came to stand next to Sam. "What's going on, Dean?"

Dean glanced at her, then looked back at Sam. "I'm doing this 'cause I trust you."

Sam shook his head. "Trust me to what?"

The man in the hood stirred and lifted his head. "Sam? Sam, is that you?"

Dean sighed and removed the man's hood.

Sam felt his eyes go wide as recognition rocked him. "Brady?"

"Who's Brady?" Chrys asked softly.

Brady grinned. "Brady hasn't been Brady in years. Not since, oh… Middle of our sophomore year?"

Shock chased all coherent thought away. "What?" Sam asked, almost at a whisper.

"That's right. You had a devil on your shoulder, even back then." A mock sympathetic look crossed Brady's face. "All right, now, let it all sink in."

Fury washed through Sam, and he took a step forward. "You son of a bitch." Another step. "You son of a bitch!" He made to move toward the demon, to fucking kill him, but Dean stopped him. "You introduced me to Jess!" He shouted as he struggled against Dean.

"Ding! Ding! I think he's got it!"

A gentle hand on Sam's arm made him pause in his struggles. He looked down at Chrys, who was glaring daggers at Brady. "Come on, Sam," she said gently, "We need him. You can't kill him yet."

His chest heaving with fury and heartbreak, he stared at her. "Chrys-"

"Not now, Sam," she snapped. "Come on."

He followed her soft touch out of the room, ignoring his brother, and ignoring the bastard in the chair. She led him to the bedroom, then turned and shut the door behind them.

She turned back to him. "All right, deep breaths, Sammy."

He ran his hands through his hair. "He… He ruined everything."

She nodded. "I know."

Tears threatened his eyes, and Sam fought them back. "My whole life. Everything I had, everything I've ever wanted, he took it from me."

Her blue eyes were unreadable to him. "I know."

"Chrys," he said desperately, "I can't just let him walk."

She sighed. "We won't, Sam. He'll get his, and you're going to give it to him. But for now, we need him. He can get us Pestilence." She stepped forward and put a hand on his chest. "And as soon as he does, you can tear him apart to your heart's content. But for now, you need to chill the fuck out."

He groaned and ran his hands down his face. "Yeah, yeah… I know."

"If you're going to try to pull a fast one on Luci," she said softly, looking down, "you're going to need to get a handle on that temper."

That stopped him, and he looked down at her. "What?"

She met his gaze. "Sam, Lucifer is good. He's going to find any button he can push to make you lose control. If you're going to beat him, you're going to have to find a way to deal with your anger without killing things. Because he's going to use that against you."

Her words, while they made sense, pinged at his heart. Her voice was rife with pain, and it was because of him. He wished vehemently that there was any other way.

But there wasn't, so he pulled her close to him and pressed his lips against her forehead. "I'm sorry, Chrys," he said against her skin.

She sighed and leaned into him. "I know you are, Sam."


Chrys had to admit that Crowley's plan had worked, even if it had infuriated Sam.

As soon as the two hellhounds had started fighting, Sam had practically lifted her off of her feet to get her out of the room. She had let him, rolling her eyes the whole time. He needed to "save" her, she understood, but it was annoying as fuck. She had also had to stop him from beating Crowley to a pulp.

Now, they watched Brady and Crowley talk at the end of an alley. Chrys wrapped her arms around herself, a chill working it's way through her. Sam was radiating fury and leashed violence, and while it was usually sexy as hell when he was like that, now she just wanted to go to bed.

Hearing him say what he had said about Jess had taken it's toll on her. Everything I've ever wanted. It made her feel strange, because she wanted that life for him, but she also wanted him to shut the fuck up and take it back.

Pregnancy has turned me into a fourteen-year-old girl again.

She knew she wasn't what he'd always wanted, but it would have been nice to have never heard those stupid words out of his stupid, gorgeous mouth.

Brady was handing Crowley a piece of paper. "Yeah. I'm sure Pestilence will be there. Thanks."

Dean looked at Crowley. "What do you think?"

Crowley nodded. "It's good." He smirked at Brady. "You've got no reason to lie, have you? Like I said before, you're in my boat now."

Brady scowled. "You've fucked me over, for eternity."

Crowley kept his cool smile. "Nah. Won't last that long. Trust me."

Chrys took her cue and picked up the bag of rock salt they'd brought with them. As soon as Crowley and Dean were clear, she started pouring a thick line of salt across the opening of the alley.

"Where are you going?" Brady asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Doing you a favor." Crowley turned to Sam. "I expect we'll be in touch."

Chrys finished the salt line and sat back to watch her boys work.

"What is this?"

Dean was circling the demon in tandem with Sam, both of them all predator. Chrys took a moment outside of her pain to admire Sam, the way his lithe body moved, the violence in him snapping at its leash.

"All those angels," Dean said casually, "All those demons, all those sons of bitches. They just don't get it, do they, Sammy?"

"No, they don't, Dean."

Dean smiled. "You see, Brady… We're the ones you should be afraid of."


Brady scoffed, and Sam stalked forward with the demon-killing blade.

The anger in him was a wild thing, and he could feel his hold on it slipping. He struggled against it, wanting to control it. But all it wanted to do was unleash hell on the bastard who had ruined his life.

Brady smiled. "I bet this is a real moment for you, big boy. Gonna make you feel all better?"

Before Sam could respond, he caught a glimpse of Chrys out of the corner of his eye. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, and she was hunched over a little, like she was cold. His fury had warmed him, but he realized that it was a little chilly to be outside without a coat.

And just like that, the anger was gone.

Gone.

All he wanted to do was put his jacket around Chrys's shoulders and take her home. He wanted to put her in a warm bath and rub her shoulders, whispering to her about how much he loved her and how pretty she was. Then he wanted to wrap her in a blanket and watch her fall asleep next to him, marvelling at how such a slim frame could be creating a person as they lay there.

So he stepped forward quickly, suddenly irritated that this task was standing between he and Chrys. Brady's eyes widened, and before he could open his mouth, Sam slammed the knife into his gut, holding the body upright until he was sure the thing was dead. Once he was, he let it drop dispassionately and bent down to wipe the blood on the knife onto the dead man's coat.

"Sorry, Brady," Sam said gently. "I would have saved you if I could have."

He stood and tossed the knife to Dean, who caught it easily. Sam shrugged his coat off and approached Chrys, swinging it around and draping it around her.

She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Sammy."

He used the lapels of the coat to bring her close and press his lips to hers. "Let's go to bed, beautiful."


Chrys lay next to Sam that night, feeling as loved as she ever had in her life. She had sensed the shift in him in the alley. He'd gone from wanting to take revenge to wanting to take care of her. Knowing that somehow he needed this, she had gone along with it without a word.

He had brought her into the motel room that they were sharing with Dean, then immediately led her to the bathroom. He'd taken a hot shower with her, just holding her, never making a move to touch her in a sexual way. He'd even gently dried her hair when they were done. She'd let him drop his t-shirt over her head, then wrap her in a blanket and carry her to bed.

She was nestled close, her face pressed against his shoulder. She breathed in his scent deeply, savoring his heat, his strong chest, his thick arm beneath her head as a pillow, and the tender way his other hand rest on her hip.

"Chrys," he said huskily.

She looked up at him sleepily, damn near halfway to dreamland. "Hmm?"

He looked down at her, then lifted his hand from her hip to cup her face. "Chrys…"

She frowned a little. "What's wrong, Sammy?"

Her eyes widened at the look in his eye, the blatant adoration written on his face. "Sam…"

"I love you," he said roughly. "I love you, I just wanted you to hear it, and it's okay if you don't say it back, I get it, I just-"

"I love you, too, idiot," she whispered, tears filling her eyes and her hand fisting in his shirt. "I always have."

The whole world seemed to hold its breath for a moment, then he leaned down to press his lips gently to hers. She kissed him back softly, just letting herself enjoy the way he felt against her for a moment, and letting his words roll around in her head.

I love you. I love you. I love you.


**I am so sorry this update took so long. It has been a really rough week for me, anxiety/depression- AND just regular life-wise. I will try to make sure we never go this long between updates again, at least not without some warning, lol.
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.