Chrys was sitting on the motel bed, flipping through pages of a newspaper and watching Sam watch TV. They were watching something about an actor who had lost his damn mind. Chrys hadn't cared about stuff like that when Sam had been alive, and she certainly hadn't cared when he was dead, so it was news to her.
Bells eats this stuff up, though, she thought before she could catch herself. Chrys winced as the memory lanced through her.
"You're too smart to follow this shit," Chrys said with a smile, pulling the smaller woman closer.
"It's not about smarts," Bella protested, cuddling back into Chrys. "It's about fantasizing about how much better you would be if you were famous."
They were sitting up in Bella's bed, with Bella sitting between Chrys's legs, leaned back against her. Chrys was wrapped around her, breathing her warm scent in, savoring her soft skin.
"So you'd be one of those classy actresses?" Chrys asked with a smile, resting her chin on top of the redhead's head.
Bella nodded as much as she could. "I would. And I'd do a lot of charity work."
"I think I'd just do enough to make enough money to stay at home and never talk to anyone ever again," Chrys said thoughtfully.
Bella laughed, quickening Chrys's heartbeat as she did so. "C, you'd be one of those celebrities who got arrested for punching a reporter in the face."
Chrys grinned. "Only if they said something rude about you, pretty lady."
Bella laughed. "Kiss ass."
Chrys moved to press her lips to her woman's pale, lovely neck. "Only for you," she murmured.
Bella tilted her head and gave a breathy little moan that sent awareness and heat spreading lazily through Chrys's blood.
"Oh, Chrys…"
"Chrys? Are you okay?"
She blinked, then smiled at Sam, who had turned to look at her with concern. "Lost you for a sec there," he said softly.
She shrugged. "Well I'm back now." Not having that conversation with you, Sammy. She wrinkled her nose. "Why are we watching this, again?"
He chuckled. "I'm just trying to catch up," he explained as Dean came back in. "So, uh, Mel Gibson really took a turn this past year, huh?"
Chrys snorted and Dean pointed at both of them after he shut the door behind them. "Or he's possessed. Think about it," the eldest Winchester said darkly.
Chrys laughed, and Sam chuckled and squeezed her leg where his big hand rested on her shin. The gesture made her insides warm.
Dean flopped down on the other bed. "So, I just got off the blower with Bobby."
Chrys tilted her head. "Anything on the 'Mother of All' thing?"
Dean shook his head. "Nothing solid. He says it's quiet."
Sam's cell phone dinged, and he dug it out of his pocket as he spoke. "Quiet like quiet, or like, too quiet?"
Chrys scoffed. "When is it ever just quiet?"
Sam smiled at her again. "Right." He looked down at his phone and frowned. "Hmm."
Chrys scooted forward to read over his shoulder. "Are those coordinates?"
Dean frowned. "Who's it from?"
Sam shrugged. "I have no idea."
Chrys stood and went to the laptop to look up the location as Sam dialed the number. She typed them into the GPS program and tapped her finger as it looked it up.
She felt a presence behind her and looked up to see Dean looming over her. "Well?"
She looked at the computer screen. "Bristol, Rhode Island." She typed into the search engine and flipped through a couple of news articles quickly. "Where three women have disappeared in the last week. It looks like the victims kind of vanish into thin air."
Dean nodded. "Could be something." He looked over at Sam. "Who's the text from?"
Sam shrugged and flipped the phone shut. "I don't know. It just kept ringing."
Dean frowned. "What's that about?"
"Could be another hunter looking for backup," Chrys suggested.
Sam nodded as he stood. "Who knows how many hunters I met working with the Campbells? We should go."
"Woah, wait," Dean snapped, throwing his hands up. "We're just gonna drop everything?"
Sam frowned. "Dude, two minutes ago, you weren't doing anything?"
It was Chrys's turn to frown. "Hold on, you get mysterious coordinates, leading to a mysterious town, and that hasn't thrown up any red flags for you?"
Sam sighed. "I don't know, maybe. But that doesn't mean we can just ignore a bunch of missing girls, right?"
There was a beat of silence, then Dean blew out an explosive exhale. "Okay, we'll check it out."
Chrys stood, disquiet threading through her. "But if things get weird, we're dipping."
Sam nodded. "All right."
Sam looked around the nautical-themed restaurant while Dean flipped through the folder with the missing persons files in it. Chris stood next to him, ridiculously hot in her fed suit, so he kept his eyes on the decor and off of his woman's backside.
"Well, freak's got a type," Dean said cheerfully. "Brunettes." his eyebrows went up. "Woah. This one's got a little bit of a wild side." He grinned and held the folder out for Sam. "It's all in the eyes, Sam. See it?"
"I will gut you, Winchester," Chris said casually, making Sam grin. "Can the sexist crap."
I missed her. He didn't know if that was strictly true, since the soulless version of him hadn't sought her out. But getting back into the routine with her, having her next to him, it definitely felt like it had been a long time.
"Yeah," Sam said, hoping to earn points. The roll of her blue eyes let him know that his pandering had failed, but the smile on her lips let him know that it was all right.
"Anyway, aside from your 'deep insight,' these women actually have nothing in common. Different jobs, different friends, different everything. So what's the connection?"
Dean shrugged and handed the file to Chrys. "I don't know. Why don't you two figure it out? I'm gonna go hit the poop deck," he said with a smile, pointing toward the bathroom labelled "poop deck."
Chrys rolled her eyes. "Always the charmer."
Sam smiled at her, basking in her presence, when a woman approached them. She had a strange look on her face, which for some reason made Sam wanted to keep Chrys far away from her.
"Agent Roark?"
Sam felt Chrys stiffen beside him, and he fought to keep the wince off of his face. The strange woman smiled. "It's good to see you again." She gestured to the man now standing next to her. "You remember my husband?"
Sam nodded. "Right." He didn't.
"Don," she simpered.
Sam smiled tightly, starting to get nervous about the waves of anger coming off of Chrys. "Of course, right, hi."
"So, you're back 'cause it started again? The disappearances?"
"Yes," Crys said with a professional smile. "If you hear anything, please let my partner and I know."
She held out a business card to the woman, but she didn't take it. "Oh, I already have your… Partner's information."
Chrys stiffened beside him, but Sam was being consumed by a memory.
He had her up on the bathroom counter, her soft thighs hugging his hips. She was moaning, pulling his shirt from his belt and mouthing at his neck.
The urge in him was strong, but not… Warm. There was no heat. There was pleasure, which was why he kept doing it, but no warmth or feeling.
She moaned in his ear, and he barely contained an eye roll at her dramatics. She leaned back to look him in the eye. "Cuff me," she said breathily.
He finally smiled a little. "Yes, ma'am."
Sam blinked, then met the woman's eyes without smiling. "Well, give us a call if you hear anything."
Bonnie, whose name he'd finally remembered, simpered again and walked away on her very irritated husband's arm.
"What was that?" Dean asked cheerfully as he joined them again. "She just cougar-eyed the fuck out of you."
"Yeah, Sam," Chrys said coldly, crossing her arms. "What was that?"
Sam swallowed hard and turned to look at her lovely, furious face. "So, uh, I think that she and I, uh, I mean the soulless me, and her, I mean, we-"
She growled low under her breath, stepped forward, and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck to pull him down to kiss him fiercely. He grunted softly, then put his hands on her hips to pull her snug against him.
There was the heat. It made him crave her, made his blood sing, and he suddenly wished they were alone. Well, there's always the bathroom…
Before he could suggest it, she pulled away and smirked up at him. "I don't care that you fucked other women, Sam," she said softly. "That's not what I'm angry about, you big idiot. I'm angry because I think you knew you'd been here before."
He frowned. "What? No, I didn't."
She rolled her eyes, but didn't move away from him, which was comforting. He wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her close as she spoke.
"Sam, on the way in, when we passed the city limits sign. You practically flinched." She hit him in the chest. "You've been here before, you jackass."
"Yeah, you have," Dean agreed, holding up a polaroid of two men Sam didn't recognize. But in the background were Sam and Samuel.
"We're leaving," Chrys said firmly, anger simmering beneath the words. "Now."
"The love of my life is a fucking idiot," Chrys snarled under her breath.
After they'd figured out that Sam and his grandfather had definitely been in this town before, Chrys and Dean had gone to further investigate. She had made Sam swear that he would stay in the motel and wait. It had gone all right for a while, he'd been at the motel every time they had called while they tried to find out what the hell was going on.
Whatever was hunting these women was hunting them to hurt Sam. Each one of them had had an… Encounter with the tall hunter. Chrys had been being honest when she'd told Sam she wasn't mad about the women. She hadn't been mad about the women. Of course, four women in a case that had supposedly taken just a few days to solve had her a little murderous, but she pushed that down and focused on saving them.
She could kick Sam's ass later.
She should have known that, in the end, he wouldn't stay in the motel. The thought of people disappearing because he'd screwed up would never sit right with him. So he'd bailed.
Idiot.
"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered next to her as they crept up to the Dobbs's house. "Let's just make sure he's around so you can bitch at him."
Chrys winced at the thought of the alternative, but never faltered as they got to the house. He's fine, she assured herself. He's going to be fine.
He was standing on the front porch when they got there, and she couldn't help the way her whole body relaxed just a fraction at the sight. She holstered her weapon. "Sam," she called softly, not wanting to startle him. Winchesters had a tendency to shoot first when they were surprised.
Despite her warning, he jumped and reached for his gun before he realized who they were. He frowned as they joined him. "I almost shot you guys. Again. What the hell?"
"We figured you'd come to talk to her," Dean said, pointing toward the house. "Come on. We gotta get you out of here. Let's go."
Sam shook his head. "No, look. I know what we're dealing with. It's an Arachne."
Dean frowned. "A what?"
"I remembered."
"Excuse me?" Chrys hissed. "What else have you remembered?"
He stepped toward her and reached a hand out to her. She stayed still and let him pull her close, but didn't respond to him. Dick.
"Look, don't worry. It's nothing to do with hell."
"Not yet it's not," she snapped, still stiff in his arms.
"I didn't do anything to bring this on, Chrys," he said, desperation tinging his tone "It's just starting to come back, all right? Maybe it's natural."
She looked up at him, knowing the answer already. "Let's go," she whispered urgently. "We can get someone else to take care of this. We're not the only hunters, let's just go."
"He… I know who's doing this, and he's already got them," he said softly, his hazel eyes begging her to understand. "We're the only chance those women have. And I…." He swallowed hard. "Chrys, I used the guy as bait."
Chrys heaved a sigh and let her head fall against his chest. "Fine, but this is the only one."
His hand came up to thread through her hair and hold her against him. "Deal."
Dean sighed. "Look, the shed lights are on. I think that's probably where we need to be."
Chrys looked up and nodded. "You guys go in, I'll come around back."
Sam pressed a kiss to her forehead and nodded. "Let's go, then."
They broke away from one another, and Sam held her hand until he physically couldn't anymore, then let their fingers brush against each other before he finally turned away. She rolled her eyes as she pulled her gun, but her heart was warm when she crept around the house and to the back of the shed.
Dean's muffled shout let her know that something was wrong. The ensuing silence confirmed it, and she kept up her stealth as she crept around the shed. Shit shit shit.
She got to the door of the shed, and heard the creature ranting at Sam.
"I got to say, you get a hell of a lot wrong, Sam, like that thing you threw me to. You thought it was here to feed."
"She was here to breed." The sound of Sam's voice sent relief washing through her again, and she was able to focus. Need to find out where the women are.
She looked around for a weapon while she listened to the Arachne. "Yeah. That thing was playing the mating game, and I guess I fit her profile...Me and all those other poor bastards. She bit us to turn us into what she was. By the time you pulled that trigger, I wasn't human. Not anymore. So bullets didn't hurt me much. Oh, and neither did fire. So after you left, well, we ran. Me? I hid for months, nearly starved. But you know what kept me going? Every night, I dreamed about ripping your throat out." The creature's voice held relish and passion, which made Chrys's blood run cold as she searched. "I thought I was sending you a neon sign. The text? Taking all those girls you fucked? I was kicking so much sand in your eye, I couldn't figure out why you weren't getting it! Then Bren tells me you've got brain damage. It's just too good."
There, the axe. She picked it up, hefted it a few times to familiarize herself with its weight, then stood just outside the door, just waiting for the thing to either make a move or reveal where the women were.
"Where are they, Roy? The women?"
"Scattered… In the wind. They're like me now. You killed one monster, you made so many more."
Ugh. Chrys was done with this thing's fascination with Sam. So she came around, took one long stride, and swung the axe as hard as she could. The thing never even saw her coming, and she took its head off in one clean swipe. A fine spray of blood hit her in the face, and she smiled ferally, satisfaction swimming through her veins. Something about killing whatever it was that was threatening her family sat well with her.
Dean had somehow freed himself, and he was currently untying Sam. Chrys dropped the axe, wiped her face on the tail of her flannel, and watched as he got to his feet, concern in his hazel eyes. "Are you all right?" she asked softly, coming to stand next to him and quickly inventorying him for injuries.
He nodded. "Yeah, I guess." At her frown, he sighed. "I'm fine, I just, what he said-"
"Nope," she said softly, shaking her head at him. "No feeling guilty about this. We'll let some other hunters track those things down, and we are done here. Got it?"
He sighed, then nodded. "What am I gonna tell Brenna? That her husband was some spider creature, and I-"
"Not a damn thing," Dean said easily. "We're just gonna get rid of him and get the hell out of here before she notices."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Chrys said softly.
They were packing up their stuff at the hotel, and Chrys was struggling not strangle the Winchester brothers.
Sam was being quiet and withdrawn, clearly troubled by something. Which was kind of who he was, anyway, the man's guilt complex had only one rival, but it drove her crazy each time. And since she knew what this was about, it was driving her extra crazy.
Dean was shooting worried glances at his brother, also clearly troubled, also not saying a damn thing about it. As the one and only contender for the "Feels Guiltiest for Shit He Can't Change" prize, he was being just as bad as Sam.
The only option is to strangle them both and move to Aruba.
"You okay?" Dean asked roughly.
Sam sighed. "You were right. We shouldn't have come back here."
Chrys rolled her eyes. Drama queens. She came to stand next to him, putting her hand on his arm to still his packing, and so he would look at her. She met his gaze head-on. "Sam, we got the monster. We killed him before he hurt more people."
He frowned. "So you're saying what I did back there was a good thing?"
"Okay, first of all, I killed it, so you didn't do shit. And second of all, he was hurting people. Yeah, it was the right call."
He was outright scowling now, which was all right with her. She'd gotten better at comforting people, but she still wasn't good at it. Fighting was more her forte, and she was damn good at that. "Chrys, I'm the one who hurt him. I used him as bait, purely out of selfish reasons, and he suffered for it. And then I just shot him in the head. And assumed it would be all right."
"Hey, man, you gotta understand," Dean protested. "All that crap last year, all of it, none of that was you."
Sam turned to glare at Dean. "Let's be crystal clear, okay? It was me."
Chrys rolled her eyes. "For fuck's sake, Sam, it was not." When he turned to argue with her again, she overrode him. "It was a soulless creature wearing your face." She cupped that same face, her thumb tracing his cheekbone, trying to soften his hard stare. "We can't keep having this conversation, and I'm not backing down. So you've got to accept that what happened happened and move on."
Before another word was said, his hazel eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he collapsed in front of her. Fear made her heart stutter as she dropped to her knees next to him. It scared her more than she was comfortable with to see her strong, tall hunter fall at her feet. "Sam? Sam!"
Dean was on his other side, his hands on either side of Sam's head, shaking him. "Sam! Sammy! Talk to me!"
Her stomach turned in terror when her lover started to scream.
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.
