Chrys woke up the next morning curled around Sam's huge, muscular frame. As usual, heat was baking off of him, so she was content to stay where she was, basking in warmth and thinking about their conversation the night before.
"Yes, you could have."
"You think so?"
"Because it was me. You would have killed him if you thought he was going to hurt me."
She had no idea where her confidence had come from. Sam hadn't exactly chosen her at the beginning. They hadn't seen one another from across the room and decide then and there that they simply had to have each other. Chrys had been forced upon Sam, and he upon her. There hadn't been the opportunity to choose at all.
Despite that, somehow, Chrys had come to the conclusion that she would have chosen Sam, anyway. It was strange to her, since she and Sam were so different. His first instinct was toward compassion and understanding, hers was toward violence and rolling her eyes. He tended to be willing to let people talk about their feelings, she usually asked if they wanted a shot of whiskey.
But she'd choose Sam. Always. If given the option, Chrys would pick Sam over anything. And somehow, no matter how nonsensical it seemed to her, she knew Sam would do the same for her.
So she let her head rest on his shoulder and traced the anti-possession tattoo on his chest with her finger, lightly enough that she wouldn't wake him. For a while, until she heard Dean moving around in the room next to them, Chrys just let herself wallow in how much she loved Sam.
The next several weeks passed fairly uneventfully.
Balthazar unsunk the Titanic and claimed it was because he hated Celine Dion. Sam was suspicious, and he knew Dean was, too, but it was Chrys who had accused the angel of lying to them. Balthazar had just smirked, said, "You know, I think you're my favorite Winchester," and disappeared.
Chrys accused Cass of lying to them, too, but he deflected.
None of them had thought to correct Balthazar when he'd called Chrys a Winchester. The thought startled Sam when he realized it two weeks later, but it warmed something in him that Chrys hadn't noticed or objected. Softie, he thought fondly.
When they had decided to go back in time to meet Samuel Colt and get the ashes of a phoenix to kill Eve, Sam had been worried. So worried, in fact, that he'd forgotten to dodge Chrys while wearing the stupid shirt that Dean had gotten for him. Sam had watched, bemused, as the woman he loved laughed so hard she cried, then finally collapsed onto the couch when she couldn't stop.
The humor, however, had fallen off of her face when he had come back. Much to his amusement (which he kept to himself, because Sam was not a stupid man, thank you very much), her blue eyes had darkened, and she had bitten her soft lower lip when he'd reappeared. It didn't take a genius to figure out that what she was reacting to was what Sam considered the ridiculous cowboy hat he was wearing.
Ridiculous or no, when he wore it to bed that night, she'd become warm and pliant in his hands. Right up until she'd threatened him with death if he ever told Dean, which didn't ruin Sam's afterglow somehow.
He decided to keep the hat.
Chrys was standing outside the diner with Sam, Dean, and Bobby. She was frowning, her mind working a mile a minute.
They had just killed Eve. Rather, Dean had just killed Eve. In a rather dazzling stroke of brilliance, he'd ingested the phoenix ash and goaded the Mother of All into biting him. Chrys was impressed, but not surprised. She'd pretty much always known that Dean was a genius. He put on a good show of being dumb, but Chrys knew better.
So instead of showering him with praise (which she kind of wanted to do, but would be bad for his ego), she was frowning and thinking hard about Castiel.
She met Sam's eyes and saw her doubts reflected back at her from their hazel depths.
Dean, apparently, had also noticed their silent looks. "What? What?"
Chrys saw this conversation going downhill quickly, with a lot of unnecessary hurt feelings and tiptoeing around the issues. So she made the executive decision to shorten it by cutting to the chase. "Well, I dunno about Sam and Bobby, but I think Cass is lying about Crowley 'getting away.'" She met her best friend's eyes. "I think he let him go."
Dean blanched, then glared at her. "What? What the hell are you… C, it's Cass we're talking about. Sam!" He looked around her at his brother. "Back me up." When Sam stayed silent, Dean scowled. "Sam?"
Sam sighed. "Look, it's probably nothing. You're right, it's probably nothing."
Chrys and Bobby snorted in disbelief at the same time. She'd never loved the older hunter more.
Castiel had never known how to feel about Chrysanthemum Summers.
She was the product of yet another of his brother's twisted schemes. Her short life had been filled with exceptional pain, and she had seemingly become stronger for it. She was abrasive, but there was a kindness hidden deep within her.
That kindness, however, did not extend to Castiel.
He supposed some of it had come from the way he'd treated her upon meeting her. He'd been angry and fearful that someone who was so close to Lucifer should be near the Winchesters, as well. So he'd been extremely suspicious of her, and had acted accordingly.
When she had stood up to him in the hospital room when he'd demanded Dean's amulet, he had felt begrudging respect rise in him. There had been no fear when their eyes had met, only determination and fury and the kind of inner power that only humankind seemed to ever really achieve.
He felt the same respect for her now as he watched, invisible and silent, the humans argue in Bobby's kitchen about him.
Something deep in his chest hurt as he watched Dean defend him, clinging to the loyalty he had for Castiel, though all of his hunting instincts told him differently. That kind of friendship earned its own respect, but it was different than what Castiel now had for Chrys.
Chrys held grudges like angels held them. Chrys would never forgive Castiel for the way he'd behaved when Sam had sacrificed himself in the pit. To get her loyalty back, to get her back on his side, Castiel would have to do more than apologize.
Seeing how disastrous it had been when he'd pulled her soulmate out of hell, he also thought that probably wouldn't help his cause.
Now, she was arguing with the people closest to her about Castiel, poking holes in their defenses of him. It was an act of love, just as Dean's stubborn refusal to believe the worst was.
"He doesn't know we're getting close to Crowley," Dean snapped. "You know, he's our friend, and we're lying to him through our teeth."
"He's an angel, Dean," Chrys protested. "I get that people make mistakes, but that's a pretty big fucking mistake to make. Especially when Sam's soul was on the line!"
"Then Crowley tricked him!"
Dean and Chrys were standing in the middle of the room, in one another's faces, snarling. Dean's hands were curled into fists, and Castiel thought he was probably trying to keep himself from striking the woman in front of him.
Chrys just looked angry.
"Kids," Bobby said severely. "Nobody's sayin' nothin' yet, so both of you shut your cakeholes."
Dean turned to snarl at his father figure. "You think that Cass is in with Crowley? Crowley?"
Bobby held his hands up in surrender. "Look, I'm just saying I don't know. Now, look, I hate myself for even thinking it. But I don't know."
Sam approached them, too, coming up behind Chrys and putting his hands gingerly on her arms. Castiel was glad to see Sam back to himself. He hadn't necessarily minded the soulless version, but he could see that this was better. For everyone.
"Look, Dean," Sam was saying in a placating tone, "he's our friend too, okay? And I'd die for him-" Sam had to ignore Chrys's little growl- "I would, but… Look, I'm praying we're wrong here."
"But if we're not…" Chrys said pointedly.
"That means we're dealing with a Superman who's gone darkside," Bobby said grimly. "Which means we gotta be cautious, we gotta be smart… And maybe stock up on some Kryptonite."
Chrys watched as Castiel smote the demons that had been sent to kill them, guilt and suspicion warring within her.
They were in the home of what appeared to be one of Crowley's higher-ups. They'd come without Castiel because, despite Dean's protests, the other three were still suspicious of the angel. Sam and Bobby seemed to feel bad about it. Chrys had been fine with it.
But as she watched Castiel smite the demons who had intended to kill them, the familiar feeling of guilt settled over her shoulders. Dammit. She didn't want to feel guilty about suspecting Castiel. She didn't necessarily want to be right, either, but she certainly didn't want to feel guilty.
As the demons fell, Chrys saw the tenseness drain out of Dean's shoulders. "It's good to see you, Cass."
The angel nodded. "Is everyone all right?"
"Yeah," Sam answered, coming to stand next to Chrys. "Perfect timing, Cass."
"I'm glad I found you. I come with news."
Dean perked up a little. "Yeah? What?"
"I firmly believe Crowley is alive."
Chrys snorted, and Dean shot her the stinkeye before briefly turning to Castiel again. "You think, Kojak?" then he looked back at Chrys deliberately. "Well, C? What do we think about Cass saving our asses… Again?"
Chrys ignored him to look evenly at the angel. "I'm not going to apologize, because you're shady as fuck, but Dean is referring to the fact that we've been hunting Crowley without telling you. Because I, personally, thought you were working with him."
Castiel blinked. "What?"
"I know," Dean said cheerfully. "Crazy, right?"
Chrys hmphed. "Again, shady as fuck, not to mention he torched the wrong bones. Wrong though I may have been, I am not crazy."
Castiel frowned. "You could have just asked."
Dean nodded. "And we should have. We never should have doubted you. It's… I just hope you can forgive us."
Chrys refrained from making the derogatory comment that she wanted to. She didn't particularly care of Castiel forgave her or not, but this was important to Dean. No matter how she felt, she knew she was on thin ice with him because of her mistrust of the angel. So, for once, she kept her thoughts to herself.
It was worth it, because Dean was smiling. "Thanks."
Cass took on a kind of pondering expression. "It is a little absurd, though. Superman going darkside. I'm still just Castiel."
Chrys's blood froze. She didn't move a muscle, didn't let on that he had made a mistake, but her face felt numb with shock. How does… When did… Oh, no.
"I guess we can put away the Kryptonite, right?" Dean's words were carefully casual. Someone would have to know him very well to hear the tenseness in them.
Chrys heard it just fine.
They were getting ready to summon Castiel, and Chrys felt more guilt and weariness in her veins. It was giving her a headache, honestly.
She reflected that maybe her life had been easier when there had been no one to care about in it. Emptier, maybe, but easier. More dangerous, even, when no one had been around to watch her back, but it had meant that she had no one else's back to watch, either.
As he walked by her, Sam pressed an absent-minded kiss to her temple before going to finish pouring the holy oil. Chrys heaved a sigh and watched him.
Emptier, more dangerous, and easier, maybe… But definitely not better.
"Dean," she said softly. "You know I hate this."
He hmphed, but didn't look up from the spell he had in his hand. "Yeah, you've always hated being right."
She scowled. "Hey, fuck you, Winchester. I'm trying to say I'm sorry for this situation. I'm in this, you know I'm in this. I'll do whatever it takes to get Cass out of whatever bullshit he's in."
For your sake, and Sam's, and Bobby's, not the angel's. Always for you three. Ugh.
Disgusted with herself at her sappy thoughts, Chrys turned and went to stand next to Bobby. She heard Dean's frustrated sigh, but ignored it. She was in no mood to indulge the drama queen that lived inside the eldest Winchester.
She watched dispassionately as Dean prayed. "Castiel, uh… We need you for a little powwow down here, so come on down."
The angel obliged by appearing. "Hello."
Bobby's eyebrows went up. "Johnny on the spot."
"You're still here."
"We had to bury the bodies," Chrys said softly.
"And we found a little whiskey." There was strain in the way Dean smiled. It almost made Chrys regret the harsh way she'd spoken to him earlier.
"How can I help?" Castiel asked.
"Look, we, um… We have a new plan," Sam said slowly. "We think we've finally figured out a way to track down Crowley."
Castiel looked surprised. Chrys gave him some credit, she hadn't thought he'd had the acting ability to pull it off. "What is it?" he asked.
Showtime. She lit the match in her hand and dropped it, effectively trapping Castiel in a ring of holy fire.
"It's you."
**Hi, I'm back. I missed you guys. I don't even have a good excuse for why this update took too long, except anxiety/depression/apathy/bleh.
**Rushed chapter, I know, my bad, I just don't have any fucking interest in this season, so we're going through it too fast.
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.
