Bella Pangborn's apartment had hardwood floors. She loved the dark wood, the white walls, and the big windows, so she took very good care of those hardwood floors.

When Chrys had moved in, they'd argued about painting devil's traps onto the floor. Bella had kept her mouth shut about the salt lines, but drew the line at painting on her beautiful floors. She'd understood that Chrys had been through something terrible, but not enough to mutilate her home for something she only half believed.

They had settled the argument with rugs. Chrys bought several rugs, painted the symbols on the bottom, and put them all over the house. Bella still didn't like them, but she'd let them be for the woman she loved.

Months after Chrys left, it came time to buff the hardwood. Bella rolled the rugs up, put them in the closet, and got to work.

As she worked, Bella thought about all of the precautions that Chrys had insisted she take. They were the same precautions that Dean had insisted that Lisa take, although he had been less polite about the paint on the floor. Lisa had just… Come home to devil's traps painted on the floor. Damn near Lisa's entire home was covered in wards and traps and sigils. Dean had insisted that he was just being cautious, but Bella thought he was being paranoid. Chrys leaned more towards Dean's argument, and when Bella asked about their own home, Chrys responded with a vague, "Oh, no one wants me anymore. We don't have to be as careful as Dean and Lisa do."

When she was done with the floors, sweaty and exhausted, Bella looked at the rugs in the closet for a long, long time. Did she want to continue to humor a woman who was no longer there? Did she really think Dean and Chrys were crazy? On the othe rhand, how could she believe them?

Bella shut the door to the closet, left the rugs where they were, and went to take a shower.


Chrys jumped when Dean slammed the book he was reading shut. Then she rolled her eyes and prepared herself for the whining.

"Well," Dean snapped, "Samuels' journals are pointless. I mean, I'm sorry but, uh. Jebediah Campbell has squat to tell me about how to stop Cass from cracking Purgatory."

"Well, I may have found something," Bobby said evenly as he walked back into the study, a journal in one hand and a beer in the other.

Chrys sat up. "What's up?"

"The journal of one Moishe Campbell."

Sam wrinkled his nose. "Moishe?"

Bobby nodded. "Of the New York Campbells." He set the journal on one of the desks and flipped it open. "I think I zeroed in on something. 'Went to talk to Howard Phillips about the events of March tenth.'"

Chrys stood and came to stand next to Bobby, waiting for Dean and Sam to join them before she spoke. "Okay, so who is Howard Phillips?"

"Well, Philips ain't his last name," Bobby said thoughtfully. "It's Lovecraft."

Chrys grinned. "As in… H.P. Lovecraft?"

Sam picked the journal up. "Holy shit."

Dean was frowning. "Am I supposed to know who that is?"

Chrys looked up. "Horror writer. At the Mountains of Madness? The Call of Cthulu?"

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, it's… No, I'm… I was too busy having sex with women."

Chrys seriously considered ignoring her cell phone when it started ringing. But there were only a couple of people with that number, and they were important people, so she went to answer it as she listened to the conversation behind her.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Well, anyhow, there's one notion that comes up over and over again in his stories. Namely opening doors to other dimensions and letting scary shit through."

Dean scoffed. "You don't say."

"Wait," Sam said eagerly, "So you're saying you think Lovecraft knew something about Purgatory?"

"All I know is Moishe paid him a visit."

Chrys flipped her phone open. "Hello?"

"Chrys?"

Chrys's entire body felt like it had been dunked in ice water. "Bella?"

"Chrys, there are… Chrys, there are men in the house."

Chrys reacted on instinct to the fear in Bella's ragged whisper. She grabbed her jacket, then swung by and snatched the keys to the Impala out of Dean's pocket before he could protest. "Bella, what do they look like?"

"Hey!" Dean snapped, following her. "What's going on?"

"Chrys, they… Chrys, I don't know, their eyes…"

"What about their eyes, baby? Were they black? Did they glow?" Dean was now on high alert as he followed her, no longer protesting.

"Bl… Black, they're black."

"Okay, demons. Bells, baby, where are you?"

"Closet."

Chrys closed her eyes in defeat. Fuck. Bella had effectively cornered herself by hiding in the closet. There was no way to get her out of there. "Okay, stay calm, Bells. It's gonna be all right. I'm coming for you, okay? Just stay calm and quiet."

"Chrys! Chrys, they're coming closer!"

The blatant panic in Bella's voice had Chrys's heart shattering in her chest. She stopped moving toward the door and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. "Okay, Bella, listen to me, just-"

Bella's scream cut her off, and Chrys felt her eyes fill with tears. "Bella? Bella? Bella!"

There was more screaming, and then a smarmy, English, demonic voice answered the phone. "Hello, Chrysanthemum. Fancy a chat?"

As the words floated through the line, so did all emotion drain out of Chrys. She was empty, nothing was left in her but a violent, insistent urge to find out where Crowley had taken Bella. "Crowley. What the fuck do you want? And I swear to Christ, if you hurt Bella-"

"Yes, yes, you'll rip me a cornucopia of new orifices. Lovely. Let's get to the bit where I tell you how this-"

"You want us to stop chasing Cass?" Chrys interrupted, her mind whirring with information and theories. "Fuck you. Bring Bella back, maybe I'll consider it."

"You're adorable when you get all threatening. Don't worry, I won't hurt the pretty little thing. Provided you and Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum stand down. Got it? Splendid. Kisses." The line went dead.

"Chrys?" Sam's worried voice put her on edge. "Chrys, what's going on?"

Oh, fuck. "Crowley. He has Bella."

A big, warm hand on her lower back had her turning to look at the person who had put it there. When she met green eyes instead of hazel, something inside her relaxed. "What's the story?" Deak asked somberly.

Chrys was incredibly grateful, then, for her friend. Things had been tense between them since they'd found out that Castiel was working with the king of hell. So much so that when Chrys had helped Bobby ward the house against angels, correcting a few of the enochian symbols as they went, Dean could be heard stomping and carrying on for hours afterwards.

His quiet support got her brain working again. She took a deep breath, then let it out explosively before speaking. "He… Crowley has Bella. He's holding her hos…" Her voice broke, and she coughed a little before she could continue. "Hostage. So we'll stop looking for him."

Sam sighed, sending awareness and sick guilt skittering across Chrys's nerves. "You think Cass knows about this?"

"Oh, oh yes," Chrys snarled softly. "I absolutely think that motherfucker knows about this."

"Well, what are we gonna do?" Bobby asked.

"I'm going to go find Bella," Chrys said simply. "And then I'm going to kill Crowley." She met Dean's eyes. "And anyone else, the angel included, who's stupid enough to get in my way."


"Look, I don't know anything."

Chrys ignored the nervous demon as she strapped him down. "We'll see."

Dean, who was holding the thing down, chuckled darkly. "Heard that a lot tonight."

Chrys let herself smirk a little. "Yes, we have."

Once the demon was bound, she stood and turned to take a sip of coffee. Dean was drinking whiskey, and she'd been tempted, but she wanted a clear head for this, and her tolerance for booze was shit now, anyway.

Before she could turn back around, Sam came down the stairs, making her tense. "Chrys," he said softly.

She knew that he was trying to be comforting, and she should let herself be comforted. She knew he was trying to watch out for her, but he just made her tense and angry.

"What, Sam?"

Her pissy tone didn't seem to faze him. "Look, you… You're running on, what? Coffee and, like, rage?"

"So?" she snarked as she watched Dean slip out of the room. Wimp.

Sam's tone gentled as he came toward her, his hands held out to the sides in an extremely irritatingly placating manner. "We're grasping at straws here."

"Look, eventually, one of these bastards is going to know where Crowley is. So let me do my thing and back off."

Sam sighed, which made her itch to slap him. "Well, look, you've been at it for a while. Why don't you let me take over?"

"No, thanks." She moved to walk around him, determined to stay on her path. Stupid Sam and his stupid hero complex and his stupid patience.

He snagged her arm as she tried to walk by. "Chrys."

Something deep within her snapped. She yanked her arm away from him and turned to face him. She dropped the knife, lest she be tempted to stab him.

Chrys didn't have great self control.

"Look," she hissed, "Bella is in this because of me. She's in danger, probably hurt, maybe being tortured, because of me. Because I built her up and made her love me and created a life with her, and then when you walked in, I just waltzed off into the sunset with you, without so much as thinking about making sure she was safe."

His face creased in concern. "Chrys, it wasn't your-"

"Yes, it was!" she shouted. "It is absolutely, one hundred percent my fault, so don't you dare look me in the eye and lie to me about it. It's my fault she's in this, and I'm going to get her out. So keep your goddamn hands and concern and whatever to your fucking self, and get the fuck out of my way."

She grabbed the knife, turned to the demon, and proceeded to do what she had to do. She ignored Sam until he left in a huff.


Chrys opened her eyes to observe the building that Balthazar said Crowley was keeping Chrys's woman. Balthazar had spoken to Castiel, then come back to the Winchesters to work with them. Chrys didn't particularly care about their little angelic soap opera just then. She had too much at at stake.

"All right," Balthazar said breezily. "This is where I get off. God be with you and what have you."

Chrys started toward the building without looking back. "Well, he hasn't been so far."

Later, Chrys wouldn't be able to recall most of what happened as they made their way into the building. She was vaguely aware of Sam splitting off, and she was relieved, which she didn't examine too closely. There would be time to figure out her feelings later. For now, she had work to do.

The fog in her mind lifted when she came into the room where Bella was being held. Relief washed through her, making her knees weak as she ran down the stairs to get to the redhead.

"Oh, thank God," Bella breathed, trembling as Chrys approached.

"Shh, I've got you. Let's get you out of here, Bells," Chrys soothed as she cut the ties holding Bella immobile.

Once she was free, Chrys smiled and stepped toward her. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Bella smiled, and Chrys's insides froze again. "Not yet we haven't," Bella purred as her eyes flickered to black. She stepped forward, yanked the demon killing knife from Chrys's slack hand, and pressed the tip to her own stomach.

That spurred Chrys into action. "Bella!"

The redhead had a cruel smile on her lips as she spoke. "Ah, ah, you stay where you are, or this hot little piece of ass gets a free appendectomy." Chrys froze, and the demon laughed.

"Get out of her," Chrys growled. She felt heat at her back, and knew it was Dean standing behind her.

"She hates you, you know," the demon said softly, eyes flicking between the two hunters. "She wishes she'd never met you, or wasted a year of her life with you."

Chrys just stared at her, hand moving slowly, not giving up eye contact. She stayed silent.

"Honestly, she wishes you had stayed dead when Lucifer killed you. Well, when she's not thinking you're a fucking whack job, anyway."

Ouch. That one stung, but Chrys didn't let it stop her from throwing the holy water she'd uncorked into the demon's face. When it screeched and dropped the knife, Chrys started muttering the exorcism as Dean tackled the demon. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-"

The demon was thrashing in Dean's hold, but he held fast, snarling as he held her down. The demon screeched, but stopped abruptly to meet Chrys's eyes.

"You ruined her life and she knows it. You came in, took over, and left. She knows whose fault this is, and she's certainly not blaming herself."

Chrys didn't waver as she finished the exorcism. She already hated herself for what she'd done to Bella, so the self-loathing coursing through her veins was nothing new.

She watched dispassionately as the black smoke vacated Bella's body, then watched her ex slump into unconsciousness.

"Fuck."


Bella was sitting on her living room sofa, staring at the love of her life and trying to fight through the fog of surrealism that seemed to be totally blocking her ability to comprehend what the hell was going on.

Dean, she knew, of course. His worried, sad eyes caught hers every so often, and she tried to give him a comforting smile when they did. It didn't seem to be helping.

Sam was an enigma to her. He looked tense and worried, but mostly about Chrys. Which, in Bella's opinion, was the way it should be, but his concern seemed to be more than the situation called for. He was distraught.

Castiel was too much for her overwrought mind to deal with.

So she just looked at Chrys's familiar, comforting, beloved face. Chrys was smiling just a little bit, but she was upset, too.

"Okay," Bella said softly. "I guess I don't understand."

Chrys nodded. "Basically, Cass can… Erase your memories. Take you out of the equation, which should keep you safe from me-related danger."

"How will erasing my memories make it so other people won't kidnap me?"

Chrys smiled tightly, but there was sympathy and pain in her expression. It made Bella want to touch her, and she almost leaned forward to do just that before she remembered that that wasn't something Bella was allowed to do anymore.

"It's more like… He's going to take our time together and get rid of it. You won't be the only one who doesn't remember, no one and nothing will remember. It'll be like… Like we never happened at all."

Bella stared at Chrys for a few moments, trying to absorb that. She frowned. "Chrys, I don't want us to never have happened. I love y-"

"Bella, please." Chrys's soft, desperate whisper had Bella shutting right up. Chrys rolled forward until she was on her knees in front of Bella on the sofa, her hands on Bella's legs, wrapping around her own hands.

"Bella, please, baby, I want you to do this. I know that… I know that this is awful, but this is the only way I can protect you from all of this." Chrys's blue eyes were wet and insistent, and Bella felt her resolve crumbling.

"I can't… Bells, I can't stay here with you to make sure that nothing gets to you. And this, this will help. It's a good thing." Bella watched as Chrys ran her thumbs along the tender skin of Bella's inner wrists. "It will only hurt for a moment, then you won't remember me at all," Chrys finished with a whisper.

Bella thought about it for a long moment, weighing the pros and cons, just watching Chrys's lovely, capable hands enfold hers. Did she want to do this? Did she want to lose Chrys and all of the good she'd brought with her?

On the other hand, a sneaky voice in the back of her mind said, how much good did she actually bring? Though she was loathe to admit it, the voice had a point. Bella had not only lost the love of her life, but also a good bartender. So in the midst of the deep, dark, black depression that had completely taken over her life, she'd also had to hire someone else to work at the bar. She'd had to find a way to explain all of the weird shit all over her house to the one girl she'd brought over since Chrys had left, and it had hurt so much to remember that she'd asked the woman to leave, anyway.

"Okay," she whispered. "Yeah, do it."

She saw Chrys flinch, but then her face was smoothing out and she was nodding. "Good," Chrys said softly. She turned to Castiel. "Cass, go ahead."

The angel took two steps forward and placed a cold palm on her forehead. "This will only take a moment," he said softly, his gravelly voice soothing her just a bit.

Bella met Chrys's eyes again, and was seized by how wrong this was.

No matter how much bad had come from Chrys, she didn't deserve to be erased from Bella's memory. Bella adored Chrys, loved her wit and her smile and her bitchiness and her "go fuck yourself" attitude. She couldn't do this. Not to Chrys, who had lost so much. Bella didn't want to be something else Chrys lost.

She opened her mouth to say so, but her memories began to fade, and soon she was asleep.


Chrys sat in the back of the Impala as they drove to the motel, lost in thought.

Bells changed her mind.

Bella had decided that she didn't want to erase Chrys.

Chrys took that away from her. Chrys had seen it, and there had been a split second where she might have been able to swat the angel's hand away, or tell him not to, or pull Bella away from danger, but she had just… Sat there. Watched as it happened. Didn't lift a finger to give Bella what she'd wanted, or to respect her choice.

Her safety had been more important to Chrys than her free will, and that was really killing Chrys.

I'm just like him, she thought with dawning horror. I'm just like Lucifer. I didn't give a fuck what she wanted, I just made her do what I wanted her to.

Oh, God.


Sam watched as Chrys pulled her bags from the trunk of the Impala, his heart breaking. "Chrys, I dont-"

"I know you don't understand, Sammy," she said softly as she slammed the trunk closed. "I just… I need a minute."

"Did I do something wrong?"

She put the bag down and came to stand in front of him. He noticed with resentment that she didn't touch him at all. "No, Sam, you didn't do anything. This isn't… It's not because of you, okay?" She took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair. "This is because when you came back, I left Bella without a backwards glance. Yeah, I was sad, but it took all of twenty minutes to convince me to go. I haven't called her, I haven't checked in, and I thought it was because I was saving her the heartache, but maybe… Maybe it was because I didn't want to deal with her." She met his eyes. "I just have to be sure that being with you, hunting with the two of you, is the right thing. I have to be sure. I know I want to hunt, but... " She shook her head. "I think close proximity to you makes it hard for me to think. It makes it hard for me to know what the right thing is, because I want to be with you so much."

Sam ached to touch her, to take her in his arms and take her away from the worry and fear in her mind. That, however, seemed counter-intuitive to what she was saying, and Sam knew a little something about needing to make sure you were in the right before you did something. So he nodded. "Okay, I… I understand." He didn't, though, not in his heart.

Dean chose that moment, luckily, to pull up in the nondescript sedan he'd stolen. He was grinning out of the window. "All right, Summers, this is about as boring as I could find."

Chrys was smiling a little. "Looks good to me."

Dean got out and tossed the keys to her. Jealousy burned in Sam's chest when she stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Dean's cheek before she threw her bag into the passenger seat and turned to smile wanly at them. She was standing in the "V" created by the car and the door, and she waved her hand in farewell, but didn't say anything as she slid into the car, started it, and drove away.

"She'll be all right," Dean said confidently. "Just gotta get her head on straight.

Sam didn't say anything, just tried not to let the ragged tear opening in his heart swallow him whole.


**I don't even have a good excuse, but I thought I was coming out of my depression, and then I tailspun into one of what was probably the worst low point I've ever gone through. One of my fosters (a 3 week old kitten, abandoned by mama) died, work got really, really stressful, and I just in general entered a grey mindset where nothing mattered to me. BUT! I made some changes, pretty significant ones, and I'm okay now. I wrote for the first time in three weeks today, which is pretty big progress. I usually like to have at least one chapter written ahead of the one I'm posting, but I feel so good today and I feel so bad for holding out on you guys that I couldn't put it off anymore.
**I love you guys. Thanks for sticking with me.
**Chrys made some bad choices here.
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.