Chrys woke up still tired. It wasn't just physical, it was a soul-deep exhaustion, and she fought with herself only for a moment to turn and bury her face in Sam's warm chest.

She hadn't particularly intended on baring her soul to him the night before. She just… Wasn't sure if she could to say no to him. And after he'd taken care of her, and asked her to tell him, she couldn't have stopped herself even if she'd wanted to.

And Bella… She hadn't intended to give him Bella. She hadn't intended to tell him anything about the year and a half she'd had to live without him. But he'd hit her with those stupid, beautiful, jackass, incredible, hazel eyes, and she'd spilled her stupid damn guts.

He groaned and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair and breathing in deep without waking up. Part of her wanted to get up and go run it off, run away from her problems and her depression and her upset. But heat was baking off of him like a furnace, and his strong arms were holding her close, and God help her but he smelled amazing.

So she cuddled into him a little and let herself drift back to sleep.


Sam woke up slowly, lying on his back. Chrys was sprawled on top of him, her hair spilled across his chest, fast asleep.

He raised a hand and gently ran his hands through those thick, dark locks, little flashes of blue catching his eye as he watched it fall. She slept through it, just nuzzled his chest a little and snored very, very softly.

He smiled and kept up his ministrations, his heart thudding in his chest when she sighed just a little bit and cracked an eye open. It took a moment for her to focus on him, then she glared at him. "Jesus fucking Christ, Sam, what time is it?" she grumbled.

He laughed out loud, still running his fingers through her hair. "Early."

She grumbled and pressed her face into his chest. "Do we have to get up?"

He hauled her up so she was close enough to kiss thoroughly. She hummed softly into his mouth, and he felt the sound everywhere. "No," he murmured against her lips.

Her mouth curved into a smile, which made his heart beat faster, just like it always did. "It feels like you're already up," she purred, grinding her hips just a little against his.

He bucked his hips and pinned her to the mattress, savoring the way she molded to him, her long legs tangling themselves in his and her arms coming up to wrap around his neck. He pressed little kisses across her face, grinning when she rolled her eyes and threaded her fingers through his hair to keep him still enough to kiss. He submitted, just this once, and let her dominate the kiss, just thrusting against her gently.

She moaned and tilted her head back, and he used his advantage to press his lips against her warm, soft neck. She shuddered beneath him, and Sam felt a familiar sense of both power and helplessness against her. He knew every part of her body, every spot that would make her writhe or cry out or gasp. She was also submissive as hell, which when held in contrast to her bossy, take charge attitude, was incredibly arousing.

But she could take him apart with a touch. With a coy look over her shoulder, her lovely hair wild around her face, could have him begging for it. And the look in her eyes, whether she was on her knees or beneath him or even riding him, when he was inside her made him crazy.

"You should do something about that," he murmured against her soft skin.

Her smile made him dizzy. "I think I can manage that."


"Come on, man, I, I can't just leave!"

Chrys rolled her eyes as the brothers argued in the factory their latest case had brought them to.

Ben had called Dean, then Chrys, to tell them that Lisa was in trouble. It had sounded like either depression or some sort of possession. Chrys was of the opinion that Den should go, at least just check on them. She and Sam could deal without him for a couple of days.

"Dude, you've got to leave," Sam insisted.

"Yeah, but we're talking life or death here!"

"Oh, for God's sake," Chrys snapped. She stepped in between them and looked up at Dean. "Go. Go check on Lisa, go talk to Ben, go get them through whatever it is they're struggling with."

The raw look in his green eyes had her softening against her will. "C, she said she was done," he said, his rough voice just above a whisper. "She doesn't want anything to do with me, she doesn't want to try anymore."

Chrys sighed a little. "Dean, just because she said that doesn't mean she doesn't care. And it especially doesn't mean that you don't care." She patted him on the chest. "So go. Sammy and I will hold down the fort. We can figure it out for twenty-four hours."

He stared down at her for another minute, then nodded once, briskly, and walked away.

Chrys turned to Sam and smiled. "Well, just the two of us, handsome."

He smiled and looped an arm around her waist. "So you guys got pretty close while I was… Gone, huh?"

She nodded and pressed close to him. "Yeah, we did," she said softly. "Just… We had to, you know." She smiled wanly up at him. "We were the only ones outside the life who knew what it was like to lose you."

He looked down at her with sorrow in his eyes, then kissed her on the forehead tenderly. "Yeah," he said gently. "Let's, uh… Let's get to work, beautiful."

The return of her pet name warmed her in ways she didn't want to think about.


"So, how long have you been here with the company?"

Chrys watched Jonny, the man they were interviewing about the attacks, very carefully. She could tell from the way Sam was speaking that he was suspicious of him, too.

Jonny blinked. "I've been here about three years now." He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, what's this got to do with me?"

Sam held a hand up. "Relax. Just a routine questioning."

Jonny looked moderately relieved. "Oh. Okay."

"Did you know Rose Brown?" Chrys asked.

Something about Rose's sister, Isabel, had brought out something very protective in Chrys. Maybe it was because she reminded Chrys of Bella, maybe it was the heartbroken way she had spoken of her deceased sister. Either way, Chrys was determined to find out what the hell had happened, and she suspected that Jonny had had something to do with it.

"Uh… Maybe." At Chrys's hard look he elaborated. "Uh, the name sounds kind of familiar."

Chrys's eyes narrowed, but Sam's big hand on her lower back had her biting her tongue and letting him speak, instead. He had always been better at not being aggressive toward suspects.

"She was a seamstress here. She went missing about a year ago." Sam pulled out a photo of the dead girl. "Here, you mind taking a look?"

"Uh, yeah," Jonny said uneasily. "I saw… I saw her around."

"Anything you can tell us about her that might help?" Chrys asked tightly.

Jonny was sweating, which made Chrys want to wring his neck. "Uh, look, I'd love to help, but I don't know anything, and, uh, I'm about to be late back from break, so-"

"You seem nervous, Jonny," Chys snapped.

He frowned. "Well, those guys that died were my friends. Of course I'm gonna be upset."

"She didn't say upset," Sam said coldly. "She said nervous. Here," he handed the guy a business card. "In case you remember anything."


Sam kept a restraining hand fisted in Chrys's shirt while they listened to Jonny speak on the phone. She was shooting him irritated looks for it, but he knew she was about to be at the end of her rope.

"Why am I flipping out?! I, I don't know, maybe 'cause of the feds! Maybe 'cause Dave and Steve are freaking dead. Look, no. No. Just… Call me later."

Sam watched as Jonny lifted a hand to wipe the blood on his forehead, then the realization that there was a new gash there dawn the kid's face. When Jonny exhaled and his breath came out in a cloud, Sam finally let Chrys go.

She ran to the kid, growling, and dragged him to the middle of the room. "Come on, fuckwit," she growled.

"What's going on?" Jonny sputtered.

"That was a ghost trying to kill you," Sam said dryly as he poured a salt circle.

"For being a fuckwit," Chrys snapped. "You're lucky that you gave the most suspicious interview of all time, and that Sam is nicer than I am."

He blinked. "Huh?"

Sam watched as Chrys rolled her eyes. "Look, we have no time for a big speech. Rose is back. She killed your friends. Unless you tell us what you did to her, she's going to kill you, too." She smiled tightly. "Which I think you probably deserve, but Sam is a sap, so go ahead and tell him what you did."

"This… That's…" Jonny ran a hand through his hair. "God dammit, it was just a stupid joke!"

Sam grabbed Chrys's shirt and pulled her out of the circle, far enough that she couldn't swing at Jonny. "What did you do?" Sam asked darkly, trying to control his own anger, too.

"We made Rose think she had a secret admirer," Jonny admitted, then flinched away when Chrys quite literally snarled. "I don't think the girl had ever been asked out in her life," he said nervously, eyeing Chrys. "Honestly, we just thought she was kind of pathetic… So we knew she'd take the bait. She was so excited. The poor girl never saw it coming. She, she tried to leave, and Steve grabbed her. She fell… And she hit her head. Hard."

"You motherfuckers," Chrys breathed out, eyes wide. "You fucking killed her, and then you fucking buried her somewhere to save your own asses." She looked up at Sam, retribution swirling in the sapphire depths of her eyes. "Let's let her have him," she whispered fiercely. "She deserves to get a little payback."

Sam shook his head. "Chrys-"

"I know, I know," she interrupted, turning to glare at Jonny again. "We don't get to decide which humans live and die. Whatever." She turned and walked out.

Jonny looked at Sam. "She wouldn't… Really let me die, would she?"

Sam ignored the question, he didn't feel like reassuring the guy. "Where did you bury Rose, Jonny?"


"So, that the girl with the haunted kidney?"

Chrys was pacing and smoking, angry and distraught. "God dammit," she muttered. They had found out that burning Rose's bones hadn't worked, and then found out that Isabel was carrying one of her sister's kidneys. Shit.

"Well, just when you think you've seen it all," Dean said thoughtfully. Chrys growled a little and took a deep drag.

"What do you want to do?" Dean asked. "Can't exactly burn the thing. I mean, she kind of needs it."

"Well, she can't just walk around with it, Dean." At Chrys's snort, Sam winced and met her eyes. "She can't, Chrys. The spirit's attached. It's gonna use her to get close to anyone it wants revenge on It's not gonna stop killing."

"So what do you want us to do, Sam?" she snapped. "Cut it out of her?"

Sam sighed, not rising to the bait, which made her angrier. "Of course not. What would we do, leave her in a tub of ice with a phone taped to her hand?"

"Maybe we should call Dr. Robert," Dean said placatingly, clearly trying to play peacekeeper. "He might have some leads on some non-haunted, black market replacement kidneys."

"He works out of a butcher shop!" Chrys said disbelievingly.

Dean shrugged. "It's pretty clean. You'd be surprised."

Sam was shaking his head. "No, I think we have to go hoodoo."

That brought Chrys up short. "Hoodoo… Might actually work. More of a band-aid than a cure, but it'll buy us some time."

Dean nodded, a relieved look on his face. "All right, Louisiana it is."

"Voodoo?" Isabel cried. Chrys whirled around, eyes widening at the sight of Isabel out of the car, standing behind them. "What the hell are you people talking about?"

"Actually, it's 'hoodoo,'" Dean said conversationally. "It's a little different."

Isabel took a step back, and Chrys held a hand out. "Hold on, Isabel, please."

The girl shook her head. "You're not feds."

"Just let us explain," Sam said softly, and Chrys was relieved to hear his patented "I'm basically a puppy dog who's harmless and you can trust me" voice.

Before they could find out if it had worked, the Impala revved behind them. Chrys reacted before she could think. She grabbed Isabel and pulled her along as she ran to the convenience store they'd parked near. On the way, she snagged Sam's arm and pulled him with her. "Come on," she snapped, dragging both of them with her. "Dean! Let's go!"

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Dean was shouting. "She possesses sex dolls! That is not a sex doll!"

"Dean!" Sam shouted as they ran.

Dean started to move backward, but was still facing the car. "Hey, you leave my baby alone! She's got nothing to do with this!"

He finally turned and ran with them, and Chrys punched him in the shoulder as he got in. She slammed the door behind him. "God dammit, Dean," she snapped.

They huddled next to the counter as the car's lights flashed in the window. Dean was standing there, a pained look on his face. "I'm so sorry, Baby."

The engine revved again, and Chrys felt Sam wrap his arm around her and turn to shield her as the car came crashing through the front window. She couldn't help the little squeak that escaped her, though nothing hit her with her soulmate's huge frame keeping her from harm.

When everything had settled, Sam lifted his head and looked around. "Okay, everyone all right?" He looked down at Chrys, and his huge hand cradled her face. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, running his thumb across her cheekbone.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay." She turned. "Isabel?"

The girl nodded. "Yeah, I'm-"

But her words were cut off by blood pouring from her mouth. Chrys went cold and rushed to her, finally spotting the huge shard of glass sticking out of her stomach. Chrys caught her when her knees buckled. "Hey, hey, hey, you're okay, sweetheart, just hang on."

Isabel's eyes widened, and Sam inhaled sharply. Chrys turned as much as she could while still holding the wounded girl to see the spirit of Rose standing behind her.

"I'm sorry," the ghost said in an echoing, sad voice. "I didn't mean for this."

Then she went up in flames, and Isabel stopped breathing in Chrys's arms.


Sam watched Chrys smoke in Bobby's backyard. He took the opportunity to just study her for a moment, her long, lean body propped up against the house, the toe of one sneaker digging into the dirt. His heart ached for a beat, the feelings he had for her overwhelming him for just a moment.

Fuck, I love you.

"Sam, quit creeping in the shadows," she said curtly. "Either come over here or go away."

Her tone was harsh, but he didn't take it personally. She was kind of harsh in general, but he knew that this time the harshness wasn't directed at him. The case had been rough for her. She had connected, somehow, to Isabel, and watching her die had been hard on Chrys.

He came to lean against the house next to her, sensing that touch wouldn't be welcomed. "How are you holding up?"

"Like shit," she responded immediately, drawing a smile from him. She sighed and dropped the cigarette butt, then crushed it with her sneaker. "But I'll be all right."

"Anything I can do?"

She turned to look at him, and he was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "No," she whispered. "I'm just… God dammit, I wanted to save her so fucking bad, Sam."

He reached over and laced his fingers through hers. She gripped his hand tight and looked forward. "I just… I forgot," she said softly. "I forgot that you can't save everyone. With the Arache thing, it was about you, I wasn't thinking about them. The civilians. And now…" She heaved another sigh. "I just forgot that not everyone lives."

He drew her into him then, unable to stand against the pain in her voice. He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in deeply, wrapping his arms around her. He was grateful when she let him, then pressed her face into his neck. "It'll be all right, beautiful," he murmured. "We'll be all right."

"Whatever you say, Sammy."

She didn't sound like she believed him.


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