Thank you for the reviews. I was hoping this would be the last chapter, but I couldn't do it quite yet.

Chapter 20

She moved aside to let him in. He did his best to ignore the warmth of her body even his skin tingled when her breasts brushed his arm. He hadn't visited the house in a while, but there was no excuse to feel so clumsy. He followed her to the kitchen but stood rooted in the doorway. This room more than any other in the house made him feel at home.

"Coffee?" she asked.

He shook his head. Melissa refilled her mug and watched him anxiously.

"I'll do it," he said.

He watched her with laser focus. He read the relief in her body and the concern in her eyes. How were those eyes going to look at him when he came back from the other side?

"I have the ingredients here. Do you want me to call someone else, to watch over you?"

He smiled wryly. There was no one else better suited than her to watch over him.

"No. I take it you're inviting me to do this here?"

"Of course. If that's ok with you, of course."

They were already talking like strangers. All the months they spent together seemed to have faded away.

"If it doesn't work…"

He stopped, not knowing what to say. If it doesn't work, can we go back to being lovers? If it doesn't work, will you put me down like a rabid werewolf?

"I will always be here for you."

"I asked you once if you would be able to do what has to be done if Scott starts hurting people. I understand you can't do this for your son, but I need to know you would do it for me. If I change…"

"No," she said. "You can't count on me to put you down."

Oh, well, he wasn't going to turn evil overnight. Even if the counter-spell failed, he still had time to talk to the Sheriff about it.

They brewed in silence. His fingers accidentally on purpose touched hers when he took the ingredients she handed him. More than once her palm brushed up his forearm while he stirred the potion. She could almost smell the fear coming off her. He knew her well enough to read the guilt at the mere thought that something might go wrong.

"Melissa, whatever happens, it was my choice."

"Nothing's going to happen. Nothing bad."

"That's right," he said.

A few minutes later, they were looking at a glass of crystalline blue potion.

"It smells nice," he said.

A tentative smile rewarded him.

"After you drink it you'll fall asleep and I can't carry you anywhere," she said.

"Right. Let's go," he said.

He took the potion and walked out of the kitchen. He was heading downstairs when he felt Melissa's hand on his arm.

"No," she said and she took his free hand gently leading him upstairs.

He followed, trying to think of reasons why he shouldn't fall asleep in her bed. They had tried to stay positive, but there was a very good chance that he might never wake up from this potion-induced sleep. It was much more convenient to store a dead body in the cellar than in a functional bedroom.

Truth be told, dying in her bed was very high on his list of ways to go. Admittedly, the circumstances were quite different in his ideal scenario.

He drank the potion without complaining about the foul taste. He sat on the edge of her bed and waited for her to join him like the night he had come there after taking on a whole pack of werewolves. She sat next to him again.

"Everything will be fine," she said.

"Thank you."

She patted his knee awkwardly and stood up. Chris caught her hand, and just like last time, he placed a simple reverential kiss on her wrist. This time she didn't snatch her hand away. She cupped his cheek and bent over to kiss his forehead. How could a heartless monster like him be crazy in lust with this woman and at the same time worship her like a vestal virgin? Probably Peter Hale was still asking himself the same question in his padded cell in Eichen House. He drifted to sleep thinking that if something went wrong with this spell, maybe he would move in next door to Peter. He believed that Mrs. McCall and the Sheriff would do the right thing, but by their standards, a quick and merciful death was not the right thing. Permanently incapacitating a monster was more their style.

He woke up with the sun. Melissa was next to his bed, looking worried and beautiful. He felt his heart burst at the sight but all too soon the pain came crashing onto him.

'Allison.'

No sound came out. He sat up slowly, but Melissa didn't move. He went next to her and when he turned his head to follow her gaze, he saw his own body motionless on the bed. His heart broke a little more when she knelt by the bed. Her lips moved and he focused on the whispers, curious what spell she was using to get him back. She was praying. He heard her passionate plea for his life.

The deity she was addressing was getting a long list of his supposed good deeds. Chris sat on the floor, resting his back to the edge of the bed, with his ethereal ear next to her mouth. She told her God about all the times he had protected Beacon Hills, about all the people he had saved, without mentioning that in all those situations he had killed or hurt other beings.

Her passion touched him. A tear trickled from his eye. Her head jerked up. On the bed, a tear had rolled out of his closed eye. Melissa let go of his hand and caressed his cheek with her fingertips, capturing the tear. Chris wished he could feel her fingers on his face. He felt the pain, he drowned in the guilt, but more than that, he wanted to come back for her. His eyes were drawn to the light coming from the window. He walked over and instead of seeing outside the house, all he could see was bright blinding light.

He expected to hear a familiar voice or see a familiar shape. With all the loved ones who had died before him, he thought that one of them would make the trip to welcome him into the next life. Probably his destination was quite different from theirs.

Instead of taking the step out the window, he opened his eyes and gasped. He was back in his body and still in Melissa's bed. She let out a small shriek of surprise. He caught a mixture of relief and guilt pass over her features before she composed herself.

"You're awake," she said. "I was so worried."

"Why?" he asked in a croaking voice.

His throat hurt and his lips burned. He felt as if he had swallowed sand.

"You were out for thirty-six hours."

She brought him a glass of water and brought it to his lips. He lifted his head off the pillow and her hand slid firmly behind his neck to support it. The tone of her voice, her efficient gestures and the carefully chosen words were all part of Mrs. McCall. His Melissa was gone.

"Slowly," she said when he tried to raise his head higher so he could drink more.

He was thirstier than he remembered ever being, but she was right. When he tried to drink faster, he started coughing. He slowed down again and she stood up.

"I'll bring you another one."

"Thank you, Mrs. McCall," he said.

The words came out of habit, but they felt appropriate while at the same time being a fresh wound over his soul. She came back with the water and gave him the same smile that didn't reach her eyes. He had lost her. Somehow, in these hours while she had watched over him, she had closed herself to him. Maybe she did only like monsters.