Chrys hadn't realized how tense and worried she'd been until Sam woke up.

She spent the first week they were in Rufus' cabin cleaning, cooking, and trying desperately to distract herself from the fact that Sam was still sleeping like the dead. She tried to keep up a good face, but Dean knew her too well, and after the third day of forced cheerfulness, he just said, "C, I get it. You don't gotta pretend with me." It was with relief that she dropped the act and just let herself become manically busy.

Bobby's return helped a great deal with that. The three of them got to work researching leviathans, purgatory, and anything else they could get their hands on. Unfortunately, that wasn't much, so in between, Chrys researched head injuries, comas, and hallucinations.

She was trying to stay awake while she read a girl's account of what she'd experienced while in a coma ("I heard and felt everything! It was terrible!"), sitting in Sam's room. She had her papers propped up on his hip, her elbows on the bed, and her chin held in her hand. She was not winning the battle against sleep.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him shift his head on the pillow to look at her. She whipped her head around and stared in disbelief as he sleepily blinked his eyes, focusing on her slowly.

His lips quirked up in a smile, and her heart stopped. "Hey, beautiful."

"Holy shit," she whispered. "You're up."

"Yeah." He frowned a little. "Why do I feel like death?"

"You, uh… You got a pretty hard knock to the head." Her throat felt dry and tight with emotion. "Gave us a pretty good scare."

His big hand moved shakily, and she took it and wrapped it in both of hers. "Gonna take more than that to get rid of me, beautiful," he murmured, smiling at her gently.

Chrys gave herself a pass for the tears starting to mist her eyes, since she'd just spent a week thinking she might never see that smile again. "Missed you," she whispered.

"You, too."

She dashed a hand over her eyes. "You must be starving."

He nodded. "And I probably need a bathroom worse than I ever have in my life."

She chuckled and stood. "Let's get you taken care of, handsome."


Sam spent the first few hours feeling weak as a kitten. He despised it, but Chrys seemed to be satisfied by the act of caring for him, so he didn't complain too much.

She settled him on the couch next to Dean and fussed over both of them. Sam met Dean's eyes more than once to see the suppressed laughter there, but they were both too scared of her to say anything out loud about it. They weren't stupid.

"Don't think I can't see the two of you making fun of me," she said archly as she brought in lunch for them. "As soon as everyone's back up and at 'em, you're both free game again, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dean said dutifully.

She hmphed and rolled her eyes, but she handed food out and pressed a kiss to the top of Sam's head before wandering back into the kitchen.

Sam was starting to dig into the soup she'd brought when Dean spoke. "Glad you're with the land of the living again, little brother."

Sam stared at the soup mournfully for a moment before turning to Dean, ready to talk about whatever it was Dean was hedging around. "Yeah, same."

"Chrys was, uh…" Dean sighed. "You know, we gotta stop doing that to her."

"Almost dying?"

"Yeah. She seems tough, Sammy, and God knows I don't want to meet her in a darkened alley, but she's kind of… I dunno, soft? Squishy on the inside?" Sam chuckled, and Dean did, too, but his older brother sobered quick enough. "She was real goddamn worried this last week."

"Well, it's not like I did it on purpose-"

"No, no, I know you didn't. I'm just… Y'know, I wish she didn't have to go through this with us, sometimes."

Sam considered Dean for a long moment. Speaking of someone who looks tough but is kind of squishy on the inside… "Yeah, I get that."

"Whatever," Dean said suddenly, dismissively. "No chick-flick moments."

"You started it-"

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," Dean interrupted mildly.

"Jerk."


Over the next week, Sam kept an eye on his woman. He was… Pleasantly surprised.

It was the most relaxed he'd ever seen her. While there was definitely still a war going on, a fight to be had, but until he and Dean were back on their feet, there was nothing to do. There wasn't even any more research to do, leviathans and purgatory being such an arcane subject, even for them. So they spent that next week recuperating and relaxing. Chrys was even back in her tank tops and skirts, swirling around her ankles when she moved.

Dean declared that they'd be watching movies all week, to which everyone agreed fairly easily. It wasn't like they had anything else to do, and Sam was uneasy at the thought of Chrys leaving the house just to go to the library to get reading material. He didn't particularly want her out of his sight.

She rolled her eyes fondly, but queued up Netflix and curled up next to him on the couch with no verbal disagreement each night.

Her head was resting on his shoulder, and he ran his fingers through her hair as she teased Dean about his crush on Clint Eastwood. Dean, far from being embarrassed, simply shrugged and said, "I mean, if there's anyone I'd bend over for…"

Chrys' clear laughter rang through the house like a bell, drowning out Bobby's exasperated sigh and Sam's own grossed-out noise. He hugged her closer, pressing a hard kiss to her temple. Damn, I love you.

He didn't realize he'd said it out loud until she turned and smiled up at him, so close he could see the hundred different shades of blue shining in her eyes. "I love you, too," she whispered, just for him.

He kissed her gently, not trying to start anything, just wanting to show her how much he loved her without saying it out loud. She returned the kiss, gently placing her slender, soft hand on his jaw. They separated and turned back to the movie as if they'd rehearsed it, but she tucked herself up beneath his chin and pressed close.


If Chrys thought she was being subtle about what she wanted when she led them to the bedroom that night, Sam would have been happy to explain to her where she'd gone wrong.

As soon as the door shut behind them, she was on him, winding her arms around his neck and kissing him hard. He groaned, felt it deep in his chest, and gave as good as he got, nipping at her pretty mouth and gripping her hips hard to haul her against him. She surged up and knocked him back into the wall.

He tried to hide his wince, but when he opened his eyes, she was looking up at him knowingly. He turned to press a kiss to the palm of the hand she brought up to cup his face and opened his mouth to apologize.

She spoke before he could. "It's okay, handsome." There was understanding in her eyes, but the heat hadn't abated whatsoever. She came up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his ear. "Let me do all the work."

He felt her smile against his cheek, then fist her hands in his shirt. She tugged him around, knocking him off balance a little, then used it against him to walk him backward. By the time the backs of his knees hit the bed, he was clued into her plan. He wrapped his arms around her slim waist and pulled her with him as he fell backwards.

She squeaked a little into his mouth, and he laughed as she scrambled to get her balance back. Once she did, she wrapped her slender fingers around his wrists and pulled until he laid his arms at his sides. "These stay here," she said softly against his lips. "Let me take care of you, handsome.

Sam understood what she meant, so he kept them where she'd put them. Chrys wasn't always good with words, and vulnerability made her uncomfortable and twitchy. She would cook him dinner and give him soft, one-line answers all day, but she wouldn't be able to say out loud how scared she'd been. How relieved she'd been when he woke up. So he would stay here, let her show him how much she'd missed him, how worried she'd been.

All of these thoughts went through his head in a flash. Before he could do much more than briefly acknowledge them, Chris was pressing hard, biting kisses to his jaw. He shuddered and bit back a moan. It was too early to let her be affecting him like this.

She moved her way down his neck, sucking possessive little marks into the skin there that would be gone by morning. When she got to the barrier of his shirt, she sat up, straddling his waist with those long legs. She tugged at the hem of his tee, and he followed her silent order easily, sitting up to strip it off and toss it to the side. She put her warm hands on his chest and pressed him back down to lie flat.

She sucked a darker mark onto his collarbone, then released the flesh and soothed the ache with her tongue. She made her way down his chest, stopping to bite at each of his nipples with her tongue, finally punching the moan from deep in his chest. He felt her smirk against him.

She kissed her way down his stomach, dipping her tongue into his navel, laying more biting kisses on the soft skin between there and the waistband of his jeans. He let out an explosive, shuddering breath and his hips bucked upward of their own accord. She laughed, low and melodic, still pressed against him.

She finally started on the fastening of his jeans, slowly releasing him. She tugged his jeans and briefs down together until he lifted his hips to help. She pulled them just low beneath his ass, just enough to release his aching cock.

Chrys hummed appreciatively and pressed a too-gentle kiss to the base, making him moan again. "Shh, I've got you, handsome," she murmured, kissing up the underside. She used her tongue to pay attention to the sensitive spot just beneath his head and he tried to buck up into her mouth. Rather than teasing, she just opened her mouth for him, letting him sink into her wet warmth.

He tipped his head down to watch himself move in her mouth, the way her pretty blue eyes fluttered shut, and her lips stretched around his girth. The sight was almost too much for him, but he made himself watch as she bobbed her head along his length in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Jesus," he breathed out roughly, "you're gorgeous."

She pulled off of him with an obscene pop, and smirked up at him, her lips shiny and swollen. She crawled over him, a predatory, heated look in her eyes. She straddled him again and moved her skirts around and out of her way, and he gasped out loud when he realized that she wasn't wearing underwear.

"Did you think I started up again?" She purred, clearly pleased with herself. "Still easy access, baby."

She reached beneath her skirt and wrapped her hot hand around his cock, making him moan and twitch his hips up again. She chuckled and sank down onto him slowly, enveloping her in her tight heat.

Sam gasped and closed his eyes, tilting his head back as she braced herself with hands on his chest. The thought of her taking him in, splitting herself open on his cock, was damn near unbearable for him. He fisted his hands in her skirt, trying hard to keep still like she wanted him to.

More of her soft laughter told him that she knew precisely what he was doing. He groaned as she bent down, starting to move herself up and down on his dick, and pressed her lips to the bolt of his jaw, just below his ear.

"You're doing so well, Sammy," she whispered, her own breath becoming labored as she moved. "So sexy, you're so strong, so much power holding still, just 'cause little ol' me told you to."

"I'd do anything you told me to," he said immediately, through gritted teeth, no thought to it. Of course he'd do whatever Chrys told him to.

Her soft gasp hit him almost as hard as her sitting up and starting to move faster, almost bouncing on him. He groaned and tilted his head back, trying to control himself.

"Come on, Sammy," she groaned. 'Fuck me, please, come on, baby-"

It was all he needed. His hands flew up to grip her hips, keeping her still. He brought his legs up a little bit, planting his feet for leverage, and started to slam up into her. She tilted er head back and cried out, her fingernails digging into his chest. "Sam," she whimpered, clearly trying to keep her voice down in deference to the other people in the house.

He lost himself in the fast, hard rhythm they built together. The feeling of slamming into her, the way her hips move and swivelled beneath his hands, the way she was braced on his chest, leaning against him, giving him all of her weight, it was all almost too much. He wanted her to come first.

He moved one of his hands from her hip to burrow it beneath her shirt until he was brushing his fingertips at the crease where her thigh met her groin. She brought in a deep, shuddering breath, and he grinned wolfishly. "Come on, beautiful."

"Sam."

He shifted so his fingers were splayed against her warm belly and gently started to thumb at her clit. She cried out and rocked against him, shifting the way she was moving on him, making him moan, too. "Fuck, Chrys, come on, come for me."

She slapped one of her hands over her mouth as she started to climax, muffling her own cries. Sam kept up his ministrations with his thumb and drove up into her harder, determined to milk her orgasm for all it was worth.

She was gasping, though, and her channel was squeezing him rhythmically, and there was no chance of him holding out any longer. HE slammed into her one, two more times before heat and pleasure exploded out from his middle, making him grit his teeth against the harsh shout that wanted to escape him.

They rode out the aftershocks together until she slumped against him, burying her face in his neck, not heeding the sweat there. He raised one of his hands to run it through her hair gently, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder.

"Missed you," she mumbled.

He smiled a little. There it is. "Missed you, too, beautiful."


The next morning, Chrys found Dean standing in the kitchen. He raised his mug a little to her, and she gave him a nod while she made her own cup of coffee.

They stayed, silent for a while, and Chrys soaked up the camaraderie, the companionship, until he spoke.

"Two of you had a good night, huh?"

She glared at him, willing herself not to blush. "'She's kind of squishy on the inside,' huh?"

When he muttered about "bionic ears," she laughed loud enough to wake Sam upstairs.


**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.
**I just want to thank everyone who continues to read I Won't Love You. I just think it's amazing that I started out this long-ass fic, like a year ago, and you're still here. So thank you, again. If you ever feel like this ridiculously long ride isn't for you, go ahead and jump off. I'll understand. But if you want to keep going because you love them like I love them, stay with me. There's some crazy times ahead. 3