"Look," Sam insisted desperately, "You're making a mistake. The real killers are back at the diner, okay?"

The sheriff scoffed. "That the best you can do?"

Chrys rolled her eyes on the other side of the officer. "Ugh, fucking Barney Fife over here."

"Helping or hurting, Chrys?" Sam hissed She just rolled her eyes.

The deputy who had Dean's arm in what looked to be an iron grip dragged him in. "I want my phone call," Dean snapped, trying to shake off the hand that was holding him.

"Oh," the sheriff drawled. "There'll be a phone call. To the FBI." He nodded to the deputy holding Dean. "Take him to cell number one, the girl to number two," he said, indicating Dean and Chrys. He handed Sam over to another deputy. "Take him to the interview room. Once they're separate and secure, you boys can call it a night."

As the deputy dragged him away, Sam struggled a little. The guy was deceptively strong. "You're making a mistake!" he shouted. He watched helplessly as Dean and Chrys were dragged away from him. Neither went peacefully.


Dean watched dispassionately as Chrys kicked at the bars of her cell. "This is stupid," she growled.

"Aw, they don't know any better, C."

"Shut up."

The sheriff walked into the room and toward the cells. Dean leaped to his feet and grabbed the bars of his cell. "Hey! I have a right to my phone call!"

The sheriff scoffed. "A right? You yahoos killed how many people the last couple of days, and you want me to hop-to on your rights?"

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." Chrys' patience was clearly worn thin.

"Look," Dean said softly. "Please, we didn't… Just give me one, one phone call."

The sheriff stared at him and Dean kept his own gaze steady. He couldn't even count how many times just being honestly innocent had apparently shown in his eyes, enough so that officers of the law would believe him, anyway.

The sheriff sighed and went to get the phone. He dialed Bobby's phone number when Dean rattled it off and held it up to the cell, just on the other side of the bars. Not a perfect situation, but Dean could deal.

Bobby answered. "Kids?"

"Bobby, we got popped."

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as-"

Dean cut him off. "No, no, there's no time. Look, we saw them, they saw us. So, we are coming to get us." He met Chrys' eyes behind the sheriff, and despite how angry she was, he could see the concern beneath it. "You read me?" he asked the phone. "Tell me you got something."

"There's a chemical… Sodium borate."

Dean scoffed. "Okay, yeah, let me get Mr. Wizard on speed dial."

"No, you jackass, it ain't as weird as it sounds."

"It's in cleaners," Chrys said, loud enough for Bobby to hear her over the phone.

"'Atta girl." The pride shone through Bobby's voice. "Just look for anything with the word Borax on it."

"You want me to Desperate Housewife them?" Dean asked incredulously.

"No, just trust me. It burns them bad enough to slow them down. So get the strongest you can find. Hear me?"

Dean nodded, still confused. "Borax. Burns. Got it."

"Then douse them, get close, and then chop their heads off."

"Got it."

"And keep the heads separate!"

Dean sighed gratefully. "Bobby, you're a genius. Thanks. I-" The phone was snapped closed in his face. He glared at the sheriff. "What was that for?"

"Borax? Decapitation? What kind of sickos are you and your friends?" He turned and started to walk away.

"Hey!" Chrys snapped as he walked by her cell. "If you don't get every damn drop of Borax in this place right now, we're all gonna bite it. Got me?"

The sheriff was staring at her with wonder. "You're crazier than I thought."

When the sheriff left, Chrys looked back at him and shrugged. "I tried."

"We gotta get to Sammy."

She glared at him. "I know that, idiot."

"Hey, don't get bitchy with me. I'm just as stuck as you are."

She groaned and flopped down onto the cot in her cell. "I know, I know, can it."

They sat in silence for a while, both trying to find answers, when the sheriff came back in. He looked pale and sweaty, his face slack with shock. Dean and Chrys both scrambled to their feet. "Hey," Dean said. "What is it? What happened?"

"I… It's just… I don't know what I just saw."

"Let me out of here," Dean said. "If you listen to us, we'll live."

The sheriff nodded shakily and moved forward to unlock Dean's cell, the turned to do the same to Chrys'. Even though they were short on time, Dean waited impatiently for Chrys to be freed, and once she was, he swept her into a hard embrace, pressing his face into her hair.

"Sap," she griped, but squeezed him back just as hard.

Once he let her go, Dean turned back to the sheriff. "All right, keep your head down, get to the supply closet, and get anything that says Borax on it. Bring it here. Now, go."


Sam was wondering if he could pull one of the screws from the table he was cuffed to to free himself when Dena walked in. He sat up straight. "Dean!"

Dean shook his head. "I'm not your brother. But I am Dean adjacent." The thing swung the chair that was on the other side of the table around and straddled it. "I just want to let you know how much I've really grown to hate you and your merry band of assholes. I just… Don't get it." Sam frowned, but the leviathan continued. "You could be anything. You're strong, you're uninhibited. You're smart enough, believe it or not. But you're so caught up in being good and taking care of each other."

"Why do you care?"

The thing slammed his hand down on the table. "Because it pisses me off! You're wasting a perfectly good opportunity to subjugate the weak!"

The thing leaned forward earnestly, and it looked so disturbingly like Dean that it was hard for Sam to convince himself not to listen.

"Here's the deal. Dean… He thinks you're nutballs. He thinks you're off your game." He paused. "And he's got a thing for your girl."

Sam rolled his eyes. Chrys and Sam would kill each other in a week. "You gonna kill me, or is this some sort of 'play with your food' bullshit?"

"Dean" held his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right. You know, I guess that's why Dean never told you that he killed Amy."

Sam raised his eyebrows, shock making his mind blank for just a moment before it started racing again. He settled his features into an impassive mask as he thought.

Killed Amy? Did he kill Amy? No. Chrys said she wouldn't let him. I trust Chrys. She wouldn't lie to me. Dean might, if he killed Amy, to protect my feelings. Chrys doesn't give a damn about my feelings. She wouldn't lie to me, she let Amy go, because Amy has a kid, and Chrys trusts me.

Well, all right then.

The leviathan frowned. "Aw, come on, man. I been sitting on that one. I like my meat a little bitter. There's just… Nothing?"

Before Sam could retort, the door to the interrogation room flew open to show Chrys. She flung liquid at the leviathan, who started to scream as his skin smoked off. Chrys grunted as she heaved an ax around and decapitated the thing. They watched together as Dean's head rolled.

"That was satisfying as all hell," she said smugly.

"Eat me, Summers," Dean said fervently as he walked in behind her.

She chuckled and moved away so the very shaken sheriff could unlock Sam's handcuffs. "So," he said, "the FBI is on the way."

Dean shifted uneasily. "Yeah, listen, about that…"

The sheriff shook his head. "Whatever I can do to make that easier for you kids… Especially if it involves lying about everything I just saw."

"Well, I was hoping you could help us kind of… Be dead," Dean said encouragingly.

"You know, 'quote-unquote,'" Chrys chirped.

The sheriff nodded. "Yeah. I should be able to swing that."


Later, as they loaded the heads of their leviathan doubles into the hatchback that Frank had lent them, Chrys was keeping a close eye on Sam. He'd been pensive, but not necessarily upset or unresponsive, while they'd cleaned up the sheriff's office. She wasn't overly concerned, but him being too far into his own head wasn't really a good thing anymore.

Dean was bitching about driving a hatchback and didn't particularly seem to need any response to his complaints, so she took advantage of the opportunity to pull Sam aside. "Okay there, handsome?"

He blinked down at her, but smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah, I'm all right."

She narrowed her eyes. "If you lie to me, I'll kick your ass, Sammy."

He laughed and held his hands up in surrender. "I know, I know, but I'm fine. I wouldn't lie to you, Chrys."

"Bullshit."

He laughed again. "Okay, okay, maybe I would, but nothing's wrong."

She tilted her head a bit. "Well, you're thinking awfully hard about nothing, then."

He smiled. "I was just… The leviathan, the one that looked like Dean?"

"The one whose head I cut off," she said warmly.

"Yeah, that one. He, uh… It told me that Dean killed Amy. The kitsune."

Chrys blanched, feeling herself start to panic. "No, Sam, he didn't. I stopped him, he didn't even get close-"

His big hands on her arms stopped her, and she glared as he chuckled. "Chrys, beautiful, I know. I know he didn't, I know you didn't let him."

She frowned. "So what's wrong?"

He grinned, a genuine smile on his tired, beloved face, and she felt lighter for it. "Nothing. Isn't that great? I trust you, I know you wouldn't let that happen. You…" His smile faded, and the look on his face, the naked adoration in his eyes, made her heart thump hard in her chest. "You're always looking out for us," his voice was soft with affection, "always helping us out. We… Chrys, we'd be well and truly fucked without you."

She felt her face heating, and it took her a second to realize she was honest to God blushing. "Well, I don't know about that," she murmured.

He pulled her forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "I do."


- All feedback is appreciated. The good, the bad, and the ugly, I welcome it all.