***TRIGGER WARNING***

We get rather graphic about some drug use in this chapter, so be careful, lovelies.


Chrys sat in the backseat of the Impala, watching the night fly by and listening to Dean and Castiel talk.

"What are you gonna do now?"

"Return to heaven, I suppose."

"Heaven?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"With Michael in the cage, I'm sure it's total anarchy up there," Castiel explained.

"So, what, you're the new sheriff in town?"

Castiel smiled a little. "I like that. Yeah. I suppose I am."

Dean snorted. "Wow. God gives you a brand new, shiny set of wings, and suddenly you're his bitch again." Chrys chuckled humorlessly in the backseat.

Cass ignored her to look at Dean. "I don't know what God wants. I don't know if he'll even return. It just… Seems like the right thing to do."

"Well, if you do see him, you tell him I'm coming for him next."

"You're angry."

Dean snorted. "Fucking understatement."

"He helped," the angel protested, "Maybe even more than we realize."

"That's easy for you to say," Dean snapped. "He brought you back. But what about Sam? What about me, huh? Where's my grand prize? All I got is my brother in a hole!"

"You got what you asked for, Dean." Castiel said quietly, imperiously.

He opened his mouth to continue, but Chrys thought she had held her tongue long enough. "What about me, Cass?" she asked softly.

The angel turned to look at her with his big blue eyes, and she met his gaze fearlessly. "What about me? What the fuck has God done for me? What the fuck did I ask for, Castiel, Angel of the fucking Lord?"

He stared at her for another moment, then disappeared.

She hmphed. "Pussy."


When Dean got out to say goodbye to Bobby, Chrys got out, too. She was exhausted, she just wanted to get her things and go find a motel room to sleep in… Possibly for a year.

When Dean and Bobby were done with their farewells, she smiled at Dean. He pulled her into his arms and crushed her to him, and she hugged him back fiercely.

"Drop you off somewhere, Summers?" he asked gruffly.

She stepped back and smiled at him. "Go find Lisa, Dean. I'll be fine."

He stared at her for another moment, then gave her a curt nod. "All right." He pointed at her. "Take care of yourself, Summers."

She watched him go with a smile, then took a deep breath and let it out explosively. She turned to Bobby. "I'll be out of your hair soon, Bobby. Just let me get my stuff."

He shook his head. "Chrys, you should probably stay and sleep a little. You're dead on your feet. Not good for the baby."

The mention of the baby had her eyes filling. His eyes widened in horror. "He didn't-"

She nodded quickly to interrupt him. She couldn't hear the words.

He wrapped an arm around her and led her gently to the house. "Come on, girl you know you can stay as long as you need."


Chrys stayed with Bobby for a week after Sam died.

She didn't go hunting with him. She did answer the phone when it rang, and discovered that her vast knowledge of the occult, witchcraft, and the supernatural in general was a help to the hunters who were calling. She didn't mind answering the phone while she was there, but she wanted out of this life.

She wanted a breath of normal. So she called Kevin and Serene, who were delighted to hear from her, devastated to hear about Sam, and absolutely insistent she come stay with them.

So when she knew Bobby was going to come home that night, she cleaned the house, put a very simple dinner in a slow-cooker for him, and left him a note. Then she took one of the cars from the salvage yard (with the promise to send it back in the note), and took off.


Kevin and Serene's home had a very bohemian, hippy-dippy feel, and despite the way she was raised, Chrys would have fallen in love with it immediately if she had been able to feel anything.

Jesse ran out to greet her. "Chrys!"

She wanted to be genuinely happy to see him. She wanted to be happy to be here, she wanted to feel like this was home. But all she felt was empty and nothingness at the same time.

But instead of breaking his poor heart, she laughed and caught him, hugging him close. "Jesse!" She sat back and really looked at him. "Holy shit, you got tall, babe."

He grinned and nodded. "Yeah!" He turned and ran back to the house. "Kev! Serene! Chrys is here!"

Kevin came out first, smiling at Chrys so brightly he should have lit up the darkness of the night. "Chrys!"

He wrapped her up in a hard hug, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. "How you holdin' up, baby?"

For some reason, though Dean hadn't been able to, and Bobby hadn't been able to, Kevin's words made her shake. "Um… I've been better, Kev," she said softly. "A lot better." Her voice broke on the last word.

Without hesitation, Kevin bent and scooped her into his arms. She wanted to protest, because she was too heavy to be being carried around (except by a certain tall, hazel-eyed hunter that she couldn't think about just then), but she just pressed her face into his chest and let him carry her home.


Chrys really liked it there.

Her days were filled with peace, or as peaceful as nothingness could be. She helped Jesse with homework, helped Serene with housework, and rested. Kevin had a job at a local garage, and made enough to let Serene stay home most of the time. If money got tight, she waited tables at the local bar.

Chrys could have been very happy there, if Sam had been with her.

She would turn to tell him something, only to find that he was in hell. She would wonder where he'd gotten off to when she wasn't thinking, and found that he was in hell. She would reach out to him in the night, wanting to receive and give comfort to the other parent of the child she'd lost, only to find that he was in hell.

It made her restless and bitchy, and she couldn't help the way she tended to bite off Serene or Kevin's head on occasion. Jesse was the exception, she never snapped at Jesse, but he knew something was wrong. He was a perceptive kid.

She was also fighting the urge to use. The urge to sink a needle into her arm was something that crossed her mind approximately every hour on the hour. She wanted the oblivion, the stupor, the fading numbness. Sure, she'd still be borderline suicidal, but at least she wouldn't care so much about it.

And that thought scared her so much she went to NA twice a week for two weeks, then went down to once a week, and kept it there. Just to be safe.


On a particularly bitchy night, she decided to spare the little family her company and went out to the bar Serene sometimes worked at. Because if she couldn't go find a syringe, she could definitely go find a bottle.

When she walked in, the smell wrapped around her comfortingly. Smoke and booze and the tinge of unhappiness that borders the smell of any little bar. She ordered a beer from a very pretty, petite redhead at the bar, then slid into a booth to sulk.

This fucking sucks.

She wondered where Dean was, if he'd found Lisa, if she'd taken him in. Chrys wanted to call him. She realized that Dean was probably her best friend, which was… Irritating.

"Look, Brett, I'm working. Go on and sit at table."

Chrys was knocked out of her musings by the redhead's voice, tinged with a little bit of fear. She looked up to see her trying to stare down a man that was at least as tall as Chrys, and who was clearly very drunk.

"Just talk to me," he insisted, slurring, "You know you want to, Bella."

He was loud enough to start drawing attention, and Bella's cheeks started growing pink. Apprehension was clear in the line of her body, but there was also embarrassment. Chrys sensed she was only a few minutes away from giving in so the man would stop making a scene.

Which pissed Chrys off, but she had nothing to do with this situation.

Don't get involved, she told herself, even as she was sliding out of the booth and approaching the bar. Not your problem.

"Hi," she said softly to Brett, smiling. "Do we have a problem here, Brett?" Fucking Sam, giving me a hero complex.

He turned and blinked at her. "Listen," he slurred again, making Chrys wrinkle her nose, "I was talking to her, so don't you come over here and try to get in the way."

Chrys held her hands up. "Wouldn't dream of it, not if you were having a conversation." She looked over at the tiny redhead. "Were you? Having a conversation?"

The woman shook her head minutely. "No, not really, he's just hitting on me."

Chrys nodded and looked back at him. "Brett, you lied to me. How could you?"

He stared at her again for a moment. "Huh?"

She rolled her eyes. Sam would have laughed. "Look, Brett, I have had a truly fucked up couple of weeks. I mean, you would not believe. So I really don't have the patience to say this more than once. Go walk it off, and violence will not ensue."

He blinked at her, then his expression became thunderous. "Listen, you little bitch-" he started, stepping forward and reaching a hand out to grab her arm.

Chrys sighed. Idiot. She let his arm come close to her, then grabbed his wrist and used his momentum to send him crashing to the ground. Once he was there, she kept the grip on his wrist and knelt next to him, twisting his arm up high enough on his back to hurt. They had definitely attracted attention now, but Chrys found herself not really caring.

"Look, guy, I warned you. Now, you have two options. I can keep you here until the cops come, or you can go home, sleep it off, and take a long, hard look at your life in the morning."

"You cunt-"

She sent his arm up higher, not wincing when there was a cracking noise from the vicinity of his elbow. She rolled her eyes. "Rude, Brett," she said amicably, ignoring his pained cry, "I cannot impress this enough, so listen closely. I will break this fucking arm. Do you want that? Because I will do that."

He was silent and struggling for a few minutes, and Chrys stayed where she was, his arm still twisted painfully up his back. She didn't particularly care, he'd started it. She was just here to finish it so she could drink in peace.

"Geroff me!" he snapped.

She tilted her head and smiled down at him. "Are you ready to behave? Meaning, of course, are you going to try to deck me as soon as I let you go, or are you going to leave?"

"Don't wanna drink in this crap bar, anyway," he said sulkily, and she knew she had him.

Chrys stood and wiped her hands on her skirt, wincing. Brett was sweaty.

He stood and glared at her for a moment, and she glared right back. Chrys had never approved of men using their size to intimidate women, and since she was just about as tall as most of them, that wasn't an issue for her. "Go, Brett," she said softly.

He did.

She turned to go back to her table, the situation already having taken longer than she would have liked, when a small hand on her arm had her turning back.

Bella, the short bartender, was standing there, smirking at her. "That was pretty impressive."

Chrys shrugged. "Should have broken his arm." Fucking Sam, still making me soft.

Bella smiled. "What's your name, so I know what to call my knight in shining armor?"

Chrys snorted. "That's me, I'm a hero. Chrys. My name is Chrys."

Bella's smile became soft, and something in Chrys woke up a little. "Hi, Chrys," the other woman said gently. "Your next round is on the house."


Chrys started going to the bar more and more often in search of Bella. And a week later, when Bella confessed that she actually owned the bar, she had just been covering because her bartender quit, Chrys found herself hired.

Her days fell into a comfortable routine. She would wake up and make breakfast with Serene in the mornings. After that, she'd load Jesse into the car she had bought (it was beat up, old as sin, had cost only a couple hundred bucks, and she had absolutely loved it on sight) and take him to school. Then she'd go home and rest, or read, or watch TV with Serene. And in the evenings, she worked at the bar.

It was easy, mindless work that she was good at. It chagrined her that the only thing she had any real talent at was mixing drinks, but she enjoyed it, so she let it go.

She'd been there for a few weeks when a very familiar pair of green eyes met hers over her bar.

She blinked, a smile spreading across her face. "Dean? Holy shit, what are you doing here?" she asked, walking over to where he was sitting at the bar.

He shrugged. "Thought I'd come check on you, making sure you're staying out of trouble."

Chrys smiled and rolled her eyes. "Shut up, softie," she said easily. She poured him a beer and set it in front of him. "So, how's Lisa?" she asked, unable to stop smiling.

Dean grinned, and she laughed. "Lisa's great," he said vaguely, "So's Ben."

"Good!" she smiled. "Did you find a grown up, respectable job?"

"I did," he said haughtily, "I work in construction."

She chuckled. "Well, it's a far cry from salt rounds and sleeping in the Impala, but I suppose it'll do."

He grinned again, and they sobered simultaneously. "Seriously, Dean," she said softly, "Are you okay?"

He shrugged and looked into his beer. "Nightmares," he said gruffly. "You?"

She nodded. "Yeah, a few." She let a beat of silence pass, then, "Have you talked to Bobby?"

Dean shook his head slowly. "No, I just, uh…"

"Don't want to get back into it," she finished for him. "Yeah, I get that."

A few moments of surprisingly comfortable silence, then, "So, tell me about the hot redhead."

Chrys turned to see Bella looking at her through the big office window, eyebrows raised in a question. Chrys shook her head. Her boss was asking if Dean was bothering her, as if Dean could bother anyone, the big softie. Bella nodded and went back to work.

Chrys turned back to the man in question. "Bella, my boss." She flicked him with the towel in her hand. "Don't hit on her, I like my job."

Dean looked at her evenly for a moment, then shook his head. "Chrys, sweetheart, I don't think I'm the one Bell wants to hit on her."

Chrys blinked. "What?"

He groaned. "Come on, Summers, don't tell me you're one of those annoying women who doesn't realize when someone is into them?"

Chrys looked over at Bella through the office window again. Oh.

She knew that she had been noticing Bella more than she was noticing other people. She just hadn't realized that she'd been… Noticing Bella.

"Oh." Chrys felt herself start to blush. "Oh, holy shit."

Dean laughed, and she glared at him. "Oh, come on, this is hilarious," Dean protested, hands held up in defeat.

Chrys was suddenly too scared to look over at the office. "Oh, God, what the fuck am I supposed to do now?"

Dean looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. "Ask her out, Chrys. Go on a date. Be happy for once."

Suddenly, they were talking about more than just her inability to notice her manager's interest.

Chrys blinked back tears. "I don't know how to do that, Dean."

He nodded, mercifully ignoring her display. "Yeah, me either." He sighed. "Lisa says we'll learn, though."


**We're gonna have to go down to weekly updates for a while, guys, I'm sorry. I'm in the nonprofit world, specifically animal welfare, and this is both a slow season (which means harried fundraising), and a busy season (lots of little furry ones left out in deadly cold weather), so my life has exploded. 3 I love you guys, as soon as things slow down, we're back to every few days, I promise.
**Ahhhh I hurt so much for Chrys.
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.