"Well, where the hell is she?"

Chrys rolled her eyes at Dean's irritated question. They were all on edge and twitchy after another week of finding absolutely nothing on how to keep Purgatory's gates closed. While Chrys was grateful that the universe (she still refused to credit God with anything good) had seen fit to give her almost a month to get her head on straight, it did mean that there was now only two days before the eclipse that would let Castiel and Crowley open the doorway they wanted.

Bobby's friend Eleanor, surprisingly a creature of Purgatory herself, had finally agreed to meet with them, to give them the information they wanted. Chrys privately thought the other woman had been reckless in her decision to wait so long, but because Chrys had had more than her fair share of reckless decisions, she kept her mouth shut.

Bobby was shrugging and pulling his phone out of his pocket as they approached the end of the alley that was supposed to act as the rendezvous point. "She said to meet her here. I'll try her again."

They heard the ringing of a cell phone, and Chrys' stomach dropped when she saw the device ringing and lighting up on the ground next to the dumpster that was the alley's only other occupant.

Well, not only other.

When Chrys hurried toward the phone, she saw an older woman slumped against that dumpster, looking up at her with dull eyes. Chrys stepped aside so Bobby could fall to his knees next to the prone woman, who was clearly injured.

"El?"

Eleanor smiled wanly. "Hey. I guess I could've used your help after all."

Chrys frowned. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

"They took me. I got away." She slowly opened the stylish coat she wore to expose her stomach, blood soaking the shirt around the gaping wound.

Bobby sucked in a harsh breath. "Oh, Ellie. What have they done to you?"

Eleanor chuckled wetly, and Chrys heard a death rattle in the sound. "Everything. The… The demon, I could have handled, but when the angel stepped in, I…" She winced, and tears filled her pretty eyes. "I told him, Bobby. They have enough to crack Purgatory wide open."

"Tell me," Bobby insisted softly. "I need to know."

"They need virgin blood. That's a milk run for them. And they need the blood of a Purgatory native, and well, they've got plenty of that now." She gestured to her own wound, then looked up again at Bobby. "I'm sorry, Bobby."

Bobby shook his head and clasped the woman's hand hard. "No, it's okay, it's okay."

Eleanor was fading fast. "I'm sorry, really sor-"

"Tell us where they are," Bobby pleaded. When there was no response, "El?"

Chrys winced as Bobby leaned forward to close Eleanor's eyes. Before she could extend condolences, the sound of wings had her whirling to see Castiel behind Sam and Dean.

"I'm sorry this had to happen," the angel began, his growly voice devoid of much emotion at all as Bobby stood up next to Chrys. "Crowley got carried away."

"Yeah, I'll just bet it was all Crowley," Chrys snarled. She put a hand on Bobby's arm to keep him from advancing. At this point, Cass could vaporize all of them and be done with it.

Dick.

"You don't even see it, do you?" Dean asked desperately, and Chrys' heart ached for her best friend. "How totally off the rails you are?!"

"Enough!" There was plenty of emotion in Castiel's voice now, anger and frustration and fear.

"I don't care what you think." Chrys snorted at the angel's statement, but he ignored her. "I've tried to make you understand. You won't listen. So let me make this simple. Please, go home and let me stop Raphael. I won't ask again."

"Well, good," Dean said softly. "'Cause I think you already know the answer."

Castiel shook his head. "I wish it hadn't come to this. Well, rest assured, when this is all over, I will save Sam, but only if you stand down."

Chrys's blood ran cold. "What?"

Castiel leaned forward, faster than anyone could blink, and touched Sam's temple.

It felt like the scream that Sam let loose shaved years off of Chrys' life.


Dean watched Chrys gently smooth the hair from Sam's slack, sweaty face, and felt another wave of fury and hopelessness wash over him.

God dammit, hadn't Chrys been through enough? Didn't she and Sam deserve some sort of peace, more than a few day's worth, after their little "let's braid our hair and talk about our feelings" whatever that had been a week ago?

Dean was livid. He was so angry he could barely see straight. He was angry on Sam's behalf, his own behalf, Bobby's, and especially Chrys', who had always gotten the short end of the stick. Chrys, who had only a vague shadow of happiness for a year before that, too, got tainted by Lucifer and demons and hunting.

Fucking Cass.

"We can't just sit here," Dean snarled as Bobby came back into the panic room, where they had put Sam on the cot. "We've gotta help him."

Bobby sighed. "Dean."

Dean perked up. "We could dreamscape his noggin, you know. Or something."

"You know what Cass did," Bobby said, not unkindly. "The dam inside your brother's head is gone, and all hell's spilling loose. Literally. We don't know what's going on inside."

"I don't care!" Dean snapped, helpless to stop the way his voice was raising. "We've got to do something!"

"Go find Castiel."

Chrys's cold, soft voice cut into Dean's rising hysteria, and he looked over to see that she hadn't moved. She was sitting on the cot next to Sam, running her hand through his hair, periodically wiping his face with a cold cloth. "Uh…"

"Go find him, and stop him." She raised her eyes to his, and he felt a little shiver of trepidation at the way they somehow managed to be lifeless and fiery with passion at the same time.

"Go find him, and you bring that motherfucker back to me so I can hurt him."


A little over an hour after Dean and Bobby had stepped upstairs to discuss plans, Chrys stretched to lie down next to Sam on the cot. She rested her head on his chest to listen to his heart, to reassure herself that he was still there, alive next to her. It was a moment of weakness, but no one else was there to see it, so she gave in.

As she lie there, she let the violent anger roll through her again. How dare he? She couldn't believe the audacity of the angel. The moment we don't agree with him, and he…

"I'm going to kill him," she said easily, conversationally, to Sam, who didn't react. "I said 'hurt' to Dean, but I think I really meant 'kill.' I'm going to kill him for this, handsome." She patted his chest gently. "Hope you meant it when you said you were on board."


Deep inside his head while fighting with the soulless incarnation of himself, Sam heard the melodic, low voice of his soulmate rumble through the woods.

I have to get back to Chrys.


Much later, Chrys was wiping Sam's face and neck with a cloth again when she heard more wings. She didn't startle. "If that angel doesn't have crazy black hair and blue eyes, I don't want to fucking hear it."

"Well, at least you mudfish finally got the angel-proofing right." Balthazar's voice cut through the silence of the panic room. "How's Sleeping Beauty? You didn't steal any kisses, I trust, Mrs. Winchester?"

Chrys didn't turn to look at them, but listened to the conversation.

Dean was growling. "What the hell took you so long?"

"Honestly? I was having second thoughts."

"About?"

The angel scoffed. "About whether to help you. I was thinking maybe... Maybe I should rip out your sticky bits instead."

"And what did you decide?" Bobby sounded less than impressed with the threat.

There was a rustling of paper. "Cassie and Crowley are there. That's where the show gets started."

"Alright," Dean said evenly. "Well, give us a minute to pack up and then zap us there."

"Oh, no, no, no, no. I don't think so."

"Balthazar!" Dean protested.

"Shut it, Dean," Chrys said softly. She finally turned to look at the blonde angel. "Thank you for your help."

The angel nodded once, briefly, then disappeared.


Dean and Bobby had left, leaving Chrys to take care of Sam with a promise to call when he woke up.

She was gently running her hands through his hair, murmuring soothing nonsense, when he shot to a sitting position, damn near headbutting her as he did so.

"Fuck!" she yelped, catching herself on her hands as she fell back. She felt her eyes widen. "Sam? Oh, God, Sam? Are you all right?" She scrambled to her feet and framed his face in her hands. "Baby, talk to me, what happened?"

He took in a huge, shuddering breath, and it took a few moments to focus on her. "C… Chrys?"

She smiled a little. "Hi, handsome. Are you all right?"

He looked around and ignored her. "Where are Dean and Bobby?"


Chrys had Sam's arm over her shoulders as she helped him into the warehouse where Bobby and Dean had tracked Castiel and Crowley to, where they intended to open up Purgatory. She had an angel blade on her hip, a gun in her holster, and a deep, soul-shaking fear in her heart.

Because she kept losing Sam to the hallucinations playing out before him. He would stop and his whole body would tense up. Soft whimpers sometimes escaped his throat before she was able to bring him back, and those times were the worst for Chrys. The distress clearly written on his features made her ache.

I am going to kill that fucking angel.

They made their way slowly into the warehouse, and followed their ears to the room where the action was taking place. A wet explosion made Chrys's heart beat harder, and it was only a few moments (and two more times of stopping so Sam could work through his hallucinations) until they came into the room with the others.

Dean's voice was pleading. "You're full of nuke. It's not safe. So, before the eclipse ends, let's get them souls back to where they belong."

From their vantage point, Chrys could see Castiel standing in front of Dean and Bobby. Even though she was furious with the angel, she could tell that he was different that something was off. Suddenly, what Dean was begging for made much more sense.

"Oh, no," Cass said evenly, "they belong with me."

Dean shook his head. "No, Cass, it's, it… It's scrambling your brain."

"No, I'm not finished yet." The angel's voice was still serene and casual. "Raphael had many followers, and I must… Punish them, severely."

Chrys let Sam lean against the corner, and briefly turned her eyes to him. She gently cupped his face in her hand, then leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek before turning and making her way toward Castiel. They had already discussed this, and Sam was aware he was in no condition to do anything but lean against the wall.

Besides, Chrys was just angry enough to want this kill for herself.

"Listen to me," Dean was saying. "Listen, I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I'd have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you... Please. I've lost Lisa, I've lost Ben, and now I've lost Sam. Don't make me lose you too. You don't need this kind of juice anymore, Cas. Get rid of it before it kills us all."

Castiel sounded like he was smiling a little. "You're just saying that because I won. Because you're afraid." Chrys readied her angel blade. "You're not my family, Dean. I have no family."

Without further fanfare, Chrys twirled the blade, took her last step forward, and drove it through Castiel's back. She felt no remorse, only anger, and the burning need to check on Sam again.

Unfortunately, nothing happened.

Castiel reached back and easily pulled the angel blade out of his back. He set it on one of the surgical tables next to him.

"I'm glad you made it, Chrysanthemum. Sam." He turned to glance at her. "But the angel blade won't work, because I'm not an angel anymore."

Chrys met Dean and Bobby's wide-eyed stares respectively, then looked back toward castiel, who was still smirking, just a little.

"I'm your new God." Chrys' eyebrows shot to her hairline. "A better one," Castiel continued. "So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord." He met Chrys' eyes. "Or I shall destroy you."

Chrys stepped forward and tilted her chin up defiantly, keeping that crazy blue gaze locked with her own.

"Make me."


**Look! A chapter! A *long* chapter! It's like I'm a real, honest to Chuck fanfiction author. *whaaaaaaat*
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