Sleeping With Ghosts - Part II
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Sam opens his eyes to a white ceiling, cracked tiles forming spider-webbed patterns above his head. He blinks and pushes himself to a sitting position, then bites back a groan as a throbbing pain beats down against his skull.
"Morning, sunshine. About time you woke up."
Sam snaps his head to the side and the motion makes his vision spin. When his eyes finally focus, he takes in the woman leaning her shoulder against the wall with her arms crossed against her chest, legs crossed at the ankles. Her light brown hair falls almost to her waist, and her blue eyes, while amused, crackle with something else, an emotion Sam can't quite put his fingers on.
He slowly reaches for the knife at his side, shocked to find the blade in it's sheath. His suspicion rises instantly.
"Who are you?"
"Aw, Sam, I'm hurt. I thought you would have recognized me by now. Speaking of," she walks over quickly, heels snapping against the carpet, and Sam yelps as she punches him in the shoulder with far more force than anyone her size should be capable. "What the hell were you thinking, taking on a crossroads demon? I always knew you and your brother had a problem with your egos being twice the size of your heads, but that was beyond crazy, even by Winchester standards."
"Ruby," Sam says, startled, though he really shouldn't be so surprised. Only Ruby could pack that much annoyance into such a tiny package.
"Don't sound so happy to see me, Sam. I only saved your life."
"No one asked you to save me." Sam swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He sways as he stands up, dangerously close to falling. "How did you find me anyway?"
"Hell has no walls and a really short grapevine," she says vaguely. Sam glares until Ruby rolls her eyes. “Lilith,” she says, exasperated, and Sam scoffs.
“Of course.”
Ruby shoves him hard back down onto the bed. “Don’t you dare patronize me,” she snaps; her hands curl into fists at her side. “Do you know what I’ve gone through for the past few months? If you want to hear about the corners of hell I’ve seen, by all means, let’s share. I’m an open book.”
“What do you want, Ruby?” Sam asks wearily. He doesn’t bother hiding his exhaustion - Ruby always could see right through him.
“I want to help you.”
Sam almost laughs, but resists the urge. No one can help him now, unless - “Can you help me save Dean?”
Ruby’s hands clench tighter before she takes a deep breath and all of the tension bleeds out of her body. “No,” she says softly, “Nothing I know of is powerful enough for that.”
Sam nods, pushing himself up again, sturdier on his feet this time. He isn’t disappointed. He doesn’t have any hope left to lose. “Then get out.”
“What?” Ruby doesn’t bother to disguise her shock.
“Leave. I don’t want you here, and I don’t need you here either.”
“Sam-”
“Whose body are you riding, Ruby?” He asks, swiftly cutting her off. He doesn’t want her imitated version of understanding, he just wants her to go.
A bit of wariness creeps into her voice behind the sarcasm. “I thought real men didn’t care about designers.”
Sam arches an eyebrow impatiently, and Ruby huffs, “Some secretary.”
He pulls the door open, holding his hand on the knob. “Let her go. Or I send you right back to hell.”
Ruby hesitates, leaning her hand against the doorway. She taps her fingers softly against the wood, debating, staring at Sam. He stares back, unintimidated.
She purses her lips and sighs. “Fine. See you soon,” she adds ominously, pulling the door out of his grasp so it shuts behind her.
--
Sam drives for almost two days straight, putting as much distance between himself and the crossroads demon as possible. Though he won’t admit it to himself, he also does so with the hope that Ruby won’t find him again.
He should know better; Ruby never lets anything get between her and something she wants.
Sam stands at the sound of a knock at the door. He calmly grabs the shotgun off of the table, newly loaded with salt rounds. He’s twenty-five miles outside of the nearest town, holed up in an old shack which, amusingly, the locals labeled as haunted. Sam laid down salt lines at the doors and windows and checked the rooms for EMF, just to be sure - nothing so much as a blip on the screen. Just a story told to keep the kids from wandering into places they aren’t allowed.
If they’re anything like the Winchesters, the stories probably only make breaking into the house even more appealing.
He approaches the door cautiously, holding the barrel against the wood.
The woman on the other side waves a sheet of paper in his face. She barely affords a glance to the shotgun in his hand.
“Proof. This body is one hundred percent socially conscious. I recycle. Al Gore would be proud.” She frowns down at the line of salt along the floor. “You gonna let me in, or should I just stand here and look pretty?”
Sam hesitantly scratches out the salt line, taking the sheet of paper she brandishes in his direction as she barrels past him into the house.
He sighs, eyebrows rising as he comprehends what he’s reading. “You snagged a coma patient?”
“I didn’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities.” She spins around with a grin, particularly proud of herself. “They pulled Jane Doe off of life support, and I jumped in as soon as I was sure her spirit moved on.” She knocks against the side of her head, then smooths her hair back into place. “No one home but your friendly neighborhood demon. Happy now?”
“Thrilled,” he drawls in what even he can admit is an uncanny imitation of Dean. He clears his throat. “That still doesn’t tell me why you’re here.”
Ruby leans her hands back against the table, careful to avoid the bottle of holy water open near the edge. “I can’t save Dean. If there was some way...” She shakes her head and sighs. “But there isn’t. But I can give you something else you want.”
Sam breathes a laugh, putting down the gun in favor of a bottle of whiskey. “And what else do I want?”
“Lilith’s head on a silver platter. Served cold.”
Sam swallows, carefully placing the bottle back down. “How?”
“You know how.”
“My powers.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Ruby, I don’t even know what my powers are. Or how they work.”
“But I do. Word travels fast down in the pit and Lilith doesn’t think much of talking over you while you’re screaming your lungs out - and I mean that literally.”
Sam pushes away the images her words conjure by grabbing the bottle back off of the table and taking a long, slow swig.
“You promise me some patience.” Sam tries to take another drink and Ruby knocks the bottle out of his hands. “Some sobriety would be nice, too.” He scowls. “Promise me that, and I will teach you everything I know.”
Sam eyes Ruby then the whiskey in slow succession. You promised, Dean whispers.
He shakes his head, hands clenching into fists. “What do I have to do?”
Ruby grins.
--
"You want me to exorcise a demon using my mind."
Thinking the words to himself, they sound ridiculous. Saying the words aloud, they sound downright ludicrous.
"What? You don't think you can do it?" Ruby arches both eyebrows, and Sam barks a laugh.
"No, I know I can't," he scoffs.
"Come on, Sam. Where's your self-esteem?" Ruby sounds overly cheerful, punching him in the shoulder just hard enough to shake him.
"Ruby," Sam snaps, gritting his teeth as she smirks, "I had a few visions, that's all."
"You’re immune to Lilith’s powers. You moved a cabinet with your mind," she reminds him.
"Once, that was once, and under... strenuous circumstances."
"Strenuous circumstances," Ruby deadpans. Sam's eyes blaze, daring her to comment further.
She sighs, aggravated. "Sam, you're killing me here. All I'm asking you to do is try. You have so much power, if you would just concentrate- "
"Why do you even care?"
Ruby's eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"
Sam shrugs. "I'm just wondering if you want me to learn how to use my powers for my own benefit or for yours. How do I know you're not going to run off and tell Lilith everything every time I turn my back?"
"Fuck you, Sam," Ruby hisses, glaring eyes flashing to black with her anger. She blinks, and they're brown again so quickly Sam wonders if he imagined the color shift. "I'm a fugitive for you. I was in the running for Lilith's second in command, and now every single demon is gunning for my head, and I let that happen - for you. I'm willing to teach you how to use your powers knowing that you could just as easily use them to send me straight back to hell as soon as I turn my back, and yet for some strange reason, I trust your self-righteous, egotistical ass. So, don't you dare question my loyalty. I'm the last person you should be accusing."
Sam doesn't apologize; he sits back in his chair, mouth set, jaw clenched, his arms folded tight across his chest.
Ruby grits her teeth. “Look, face the cold, hard facts, Sam. To learn to use your powers, you’re going to have to do things that would probably make your skin crawl under better circumstances.” She pushes out of the chair and the legs skid against the floor.
“What are you going to do?”
“Keep Lilith off your trail,” she shouts before turning around and walking backwards with a feral grin, “And find us a guinea pig.”
Sam isn’t sure he wants to know what she means.
--
The door slams when Ruby returns hours later; he hears her ragged breathing, what sounds like struggling, and a crash as what he assumes is a chair hits the floor.
"What the hell are you - Jesus!”
“Not quite,” Ruby huffs, then rolls her eyes when Sam makes no move to help. “No, it’s okay, I’ve got it,” she says, slightly out of breath. She heaves a struggling demon into the chair she knocked over. “Don’t get squeamish on me now, Sammy.”
“Don’t call me Sammy,” he hisses.
“Fine, whatever, are you going to help me so we can get this show on the road or just stand there and look pretty all night?”
Ruby raises her eyebrows and Sam grits his teeth, but moves towards the table to grab rope and a can of spray paint. He tosses the rope to Ruby, and sets about drawing a Devil’s Trap, taking care not to complete the final line before Ruby steps aside.
“You ready?” she asks; out of the corner of his eye, Sam sees the blade of Ruby’s knife catch the light.
Sam shrugs a shoulder. “Not really.” He nods to the knife. “Is that supposed to be comforting?”
“Call it a safety hatch.” She sighs when Sam arches an eyebrow. “Stop procrastinating. Just let it happen, Sam. Don’t fight, and everything should just... flow.”
“Easy for you to say,” he mutters, turning back to the demon, who has remained surprisingly quiet throughout the entire ordeal.
Sam takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, trying to voluntarily access the part of his brain that sends him visions and once sent a large, wooden wardrobe skidding across the floor. Instinctively, he raises his hand, trying to imagine that power flowing through him; he feels it humming across his skin and focuses on the demon, on sending the soul back to hell.
The demon chokes as the tell-tale black smoke bleeds from his mouth. Sam’s head feels ready to explode under the strain, pressure pushing painfully against his temples.
He drops his hand and leans over to grasp his knees, chest heaving.
“Sam,” Ruby murmurs, both concerned and supportive. Sam takes a deep breath, raising his arm again. The pain explodes against his skull instantly while the demon coughs weakly. Sam tastes blood in his mouth from where it drips down under his nose.
The demon laughs as Sam groans in pain and grabs onto the wall so his knees don’t give way. His laughter grates across Sam’s brain, against his skin, until Ruby steps forward and thrusts the blade of her knife through his throat.
“Not funny,” she growls, yanking the knife out. She turns to Sam. “Are you okay?”
Sam doesn’t answer. He leans down to scratch away a portion of the Devil’s Trap, then stumbles silently towards the door.
The breeze blows warm against his face as he stands on the cracked stone steps. He stubs the toe of his shoe in a crevice, kicks the pebbles and watches them fly across the gravel drive. They barely whisper as they land.
The door creaks open behind him, but Sam is too busy finding the best rocks to hurl into the tall grass fifty feet away to care. Shoes clatter against the steps, crackling against the broken stone and concrete.
"Sam, don't beat yourself up about this," Ruby says, attempting to be reassuring. Sam launches one of the rocks into the grass, coming dangerously close to the Impala's windshield. If Dean were here -
He cuts off that train of thought immediately, tossing another rock instead. This one just barely grazes the bumper.
"Sam-" Ruby tries, but he doesn't want to hear anything she has to say.
"You know what, Ruby? Whatever. I tried. I failed. What else is there to say?" He heaves the last rock, and this one hits, bouncing off of the hood before hitting the ground. A part of him winces, hearing his brother bellowing at him for daring to hurt his baby. Another part of him hopes he scratched the paint.
"Are we still talking about the demon, or are we talking about something else?" Ruby's footsteps are the only warning he has before she stands directly behind him, a warm heat at his back. He turns, fists clenched.
"Don't you dare try to psychoanalyze me. You know nothing about that night."
"That rage you're feeling right now - you feel it, don't you? Like a fire running through your veins, just under your skin?" Sam doesn't answer because he knows exactly what she's talking about and hates that he does - that part of him that isn't human, demon blood bled into him as a child that cost him his mother, his father, and now his brother, and any chance at a normal life before he had a will or a choice.
"All you have to do is harness that power, Sam,” she says, voice hushed. “Accept it.”
Sam knows she's right, and he hates that, too. Using his powers is like a Pandora’s box - once opened, there’s no telling what might escape, but there’s no going back.
He takes a moment to dwell on the fact that she knew exactly what to say to rile him up, and can't help but bite out, "You think you know me so well, don't you?"
"I know you well enough." The words go unsaid, but they hang in the air, a fraying rope tying them together that Sam wishes he could cut and Ruby keeps pulling tighter: Not as well as Dean.
--
That night, Sam dreams of Dean, arms and legs tied down to a table with Lilith standing over him, a butcher knife gleaming in her hands. She grins, her teeth stained red as she draws a line down Dean’s chest from collar bone to navel.
Dean screams, neck bowing, back arching as far as his restraints will allow, causing the blood to flow faster.
“Shhh,” Lilith says, running the blade across his cheek, “Don’t scream.”
Sam wakes up biting back a scream of his own.
“You okay?” A voice asks, and Sam jumps, almost falling off of the couch. Ruby stands in the doorway, hip against the wall, arms crossed over her chest - the very image of a sentinel standing guard.
Sam isn’t sure he likes that image; he shakes his head, sniffling as he turns over. “I’m fine,” he mutters, ignoring her disbelieving huff of breath and her eyes on his back as he stares at the back of the couch, leveling his breathing in a mockery of sleep.
Some time after dawn, Sam finally falls into a light, troubled sleep. The image of Dean torn apart and bloody flashes against his eyelids, and Sam tosses and turns until the door slams shut, jolting him awake.
He sits up as Ruby tosses her jacket onto the table. Sam hears keys rattling, and glances up from the couch with a glare.
“Where the hell were you?”
"Oh, you know, the usual - causing mass murder and mayhem and using the Impala as a getaway car." She rolls her eyes, leaning back against the edge of the table and tossing the keys to Sam. He catches them without batting an eye, glaring.
Ruby holds up a plastic bag, shaking it in mid-air. “I got you breakfast.”
“Don’t drive my car,” he snaps, the word my burning a hole in his throat.
“Thank you, Ruby, that was awfully kind of you,” she mocks, dropping her voice in a terrible false falsetto. “No problem at all, Sam.”
Sam shoves a forkful of eggs in his mouth, still glaring.
He tells himself that she’s - it’s - just a car. Maybe if he thinks the words enough, they’ll become the truth.
How are we even related? Dean says at the back of his mind; Sam can even see him shaking his head. He closes his eyes and takes a sip of scalding coffee, hoping to burn the image out.
“Hear anything about Lilith?” He asks, dropping the subject, a peace offering.
Ruby perches on the end of the table, popping one of his french fries into her mouth. “Not so much as a whisper, but rumor has it she’s circling the wagons, trying to find out what you’re up to. We may have to tip her off - dangle the carrot, keep her on her toes and off our ass.”
Sam arches an eyebrow. “We?”
Ruby huffs, biting off the end of another fry. “Fine, me.”
“The thought of you getting anywhere near Lilith makes my skin crawl.”
“And the thought of you letting your powers languish unused makes my skin crawl, so we all have problems, don’t we?" Ruby snaps, shoving off of the table hard enough the legs shake.
Sam lowers the cup of coffee, gritting his teeth. It’s far too early for this shit.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep, calming breath. “This is a complicated situation, Sam, nowhere near as simple as just finding and killing Lilith. I need to keep her off our trail while we track her down, keep her moving in the direction we want. You letting your powers get flabby isn’t helping the situation any.”
"Why tell Lilith anything at all then?" He asks, ignoring her last comment entirely.
She rolls her eyes to the ceiling, as if praying for patience. "Because she let me out of the pit to kill you, Sam. There's a dead crossroads demon handpicked by Lilith, knowing you would show up eventually, yet you're obviously still alive and kicking - and thanks for making my life infinitely harder, by the way."
"How many times are you going to berate me for this?" Sam asks, glaring.
"As long as it takes for me to drill into your thick skull that your harebrained schemes to save your brother are a bad idea. My point," she says as soon as he opens his mouth to argue, "Is that her plan changed, and I need to convince her and the rest of her faithful followers I'm still on her side."
"Who’s side are you on, Ruby?"
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Ruby says nonchalantly, but with a dangerous edge.
Sam’s eyebrows rise to his hairline. “Doesn’t mean anything.”
Her eyes blaze, darken, Sam swears they turn black in the shadows. She takes a step forward, and Sam half expects her to toss him into the wall. Instead, she clenches her hands into tight fists, practically shaking with rage.
"I don’t need to explain myself to you. What Lilith made me do - what I let her do to me so that I could convince her I was sorry-” She takes a deep breath, calming with a roll of her shoulders. Her hands relax at her sides. “This is the third time you’ve questioned my loyalty, Sam. Question it a fourth time and I might not be as forgiving."
Sam huffs uneasily, frowning. He only trusts Ruby as far as he can throw her, especially when he remembers her broken promise to find a way to save Dean, and when her temper flares like... well, a demon.
"We do have other options, you know," he says appeasingly, crossing his arms over his chest.
Ruby barks a laugh. "Like what? A Devil’s Trap and some holy water won’t cut it with Lilith. You know that."
"What about the Colt?"
Ruby stills and turns slowly, disbelief warring with open incredulity across her face. Sam begins packing salt rounds with methodical precision.
She stares at him from across the room. "You can't be serious."
"Dead serious," Sam tells her, picking up a new casing.
Ruby’s mouth opens and closes, and Sam takes pleasure in knowing he’s finally done something to render her speechless. She eventually stutters out, "Sam, we are talking about the same Colt here - the Colt, killer of demons-"
"And any other supernatural creature out there. Yes, we're talking about the same one." Sam shoves the salt rounds to the side, pushing his chair back so he can stand and slowly approach the other side of the table, where Ruby still hasn't moved, too shocked to say anything else. "Ruby, if we find the Colt, we'll be practically unbeatable against Lilith."
She stares, skeptical. "Sam, even if we do find the Colt, making the bullets takes time and precision, and Lilith may very well have destroyed-"
"No." Ruby huffs a breath, annoyed at being cut off a second time. "No, she wouldn't have destroyed it."
There's a moment of silence where Ruby clearly questions his sanity, before she closes her eyes. "Okay, so say I'm buying into your theory. Lilith might still have the Colt, or she got rid of the Colt, scattered the pieces at the four corners of the earth, who knows. How are we going to find it?"
"I'm not," he says, obviously, and her eyes snap open. "You are."
"Oh, really?" She laughs. "Tell me, Sam, how exactly am I going to ask Lilith's most loyal followers about the Colt and not look like I'm trying to stab her in the back?"
"You'll figure something out." Sam smiles, grabbing his gun off of the table. Ruby smacks her hand over the barrel, pushing it roughly out of the way.
"I'll make you a deal. I'll help you find the Colt if you start practicing using your powers.” She shrugs, crossing her arms tightly. “Final offer. Cue the Jeopardy music."
Sam glares, but weighs his options carefully. He has no chance of finding the Colt on his own. Demons never liked him very much, and the past few months haven’t exactly endeared him to them any more. He knows Ruby is his only hope - not just of killing Lilith, but of saving Dean.
"Fine," he mutters.
--
After two weeks and another three attempts, Sam still hasn’t succeeded in sending a demon back to hell with solely the power of his mind. Despite Ruby’s ringing endorsements, he’s beginning to wonder if there’s any truth to him having powers beyond visions and accidental telekinesis.
Sam spins a beer bottle around in his hands; the sound of dragging glass echoes through the room. He hears Ruby approaching before he sees her canting her hip against the edge of the table. He doesn't look up from running his index finger through the condensation collected on the surface of the wood.
Ruby sighs, "Look, you're being too hard on yourself, Sam. Your powers are like a muscle. You have to work them out before you get better."
Sam laughs bitterly around the rim as he takes another sip. "Right." He slams the bottle down onto the table. "Ruby, we've been at this for two weeks now, and I'm not getting any closer to controlling my powers than I was when we started." And you’re not any closer to finding the Colt, he wants to say - two weeks, and nothing from Lilith or her lackeys but a string of dead ends and trails that lead to nowhere. He’s beginning to wonder if Ruby is even looking for the Colt at all. He bites his lips against the accusation, not in the mood to be the object of her anger tonight.
"I'm not just talking about pulling demons, Sam." She takes a deep breath, and Sam instantly tenses, knowing he's not going to like what she says. "Look, I know losing Dean was hard and-"
"Don't," he cuts her off before she has a chance to finish her sentence. "Don't even try to-" He swallows hard past the lump in his throat. "Where the hell do you get off slapping me with that time heals all wounds greeting card bullshit, Ruby?"
"I used to be human, Sam," she says quietly, "And I remember what it's like to lose someone."
Sam glares, focusing on his breathing, not on the tightness in his chest her words have conjured. He switches gears, veering their conversation back to demons and Lilith, topics he knows how to deal with. He can handle his anger; he can't handle his grief. "Maybe we need to try again."
"Or maybe that's the problem, Sam. You're trying too hard."
Sam slides backwards; his chair skids against the wood floor, and he stands, towering over Ruby. "As opposed to what? Not trying at all? You’re the one who wanted me to learn how to use my powers so badly. Lilith is still out there somewhere, and every single one of my losses is another one of her gains."
"Sam, this can't all be about revenge. You have to focus on the big picture here."
"The big picture," Sam repeats. He stalks towards her, but she stands her ground, staring up at him defiantly. He can still see the wariness behind her eyes and uses that to his advantage. "My brother is rotting in hell because of Lilith. Dean died, Ruby. I watched him be torn apart in front of me while she laughed. There is no big picture. Just Lilith."
Sam turns away from her and grabs another beer from the table. "Don't you think you've had enough?" She scolds quietly.
"Go to hell," he mutters. The fact that he's drunk enough to say the phrase without wincing tells him she's right, but he still won't admit that aloud.
Ruby yanks the bottle out of his hands, tossing it to the floor. The glass shatters on impact.
"What the hell?" Sam growls.
"I'm not going to watch you run yourself into the ground again, Sam."
"No one said you had to watch." Ruby slaps his hand away as he reaches for another bottle, and he grips her wrist, hissing, "Goddamnit, Ruby, you're not-"
Ruby throws herself at him, pressing her lips to his, cutting off his words before he has a chance to finish them. He isn't even positive how he was going to finish that sentence, isn't sure he wants to think about it at the moment. Ruby successfully distracts him, winding her arms around his neck, tugging her fingers through his hair. He kisses her back for a moment before reality crashes down on him, and he pushes her away.
"Ruby, what the hell are you doing?" He gasps out, keeping her at arm’s length with a hand firmly on her shoulder.
"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Ruby smirks. "Thought you were smart, Sam." She attempts to move closer, but Sam pushes against her, and she stops with a sigh. "What's the problem?"
"What's the problem? Ruby, where do I start?" He can't explain why, but being with Ruby, with anyone, like this, here and now... he doesn't think he remembers any emotions other than anger. He doesn't think he would know how to do this, even if she weren't a demon.
"Because I'm a demon?" she asks coyly, and the fact that she can read him so well still worries him and pisses him off, but he doesn't have the chance to focus on either of those emotions. She slips out of her jacket, stalking towards him, and he fights to hold his ground, to not back away. "Sam, I already told you, it's just me in this body. There's no one else home."
She leans up on her toes and kisses his neck, and he shivers, closing his eyes. "Ruby-"
"Sam," she whispers, tipping his chin up with one of her fingers, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn't think; he clutches at her back, kisses her until he can't breathe, can't think, only feels this.
--
When Sam wakes up, Ruby isn’t anywhere to be found, and the keys to the Impala are gone. Neither of these things surprise him.
Sam rubs his eyes, settling down at the table, eyeing the bottle of whiskey at his elbow.
You promised, Ruby’s voice whispers, and Sam sets his jaw, flicks the cap off of the bottle, and flips open a newspaper. One voice of reason is enough.
"I found it," Ruby declares, door slamming against the wall as she strolls into the room, and Sam looks up from the table with a glare.
"Ruby, have you ever heard of the concept of knocking?"
"Like you have anything I haven't already seen." She leers, dropping into a chair. "Unless, of course, you were in the middle of something. You know, I could always help with that." She runs her hand down his arm, and he slaps it away without a word, not in the mood for her games.
"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Ruby pouts. “What's up your ass?"
"You're interrupting," Sam gripes, each syllable clipped.
Ruby rolls her eyes. "You know I thought we already established-"
He doesn't let her finish her sentence, instead shoving the newspaper under her nose, two articles already circled in red. "Demonic omens, Ruby, not sex."
"Oh," she almost sounds disappointed, pushing the newspaper - and the bottle of whiskey, much to his annoyance - to the side. "Well, that's not nearly as fun."
Sam blinks. "Aren't you even going to look at them?"
"Don't have to. I have my own sources."
"Demons, no doubt," he mutters.
Ruby twists to the side, bending her knees over the arm of the chair. "Don't go all self-righteous on me again, Sam. Do you want to know what I heard last night or not?"
Sam sighs, blowing his hair out of his face - she could be such a pain in his ass - but waves for her to go on.
"There's a group of demons over in Tennessee... and they have the Colt."
Sam shoves backwards, chair falling in his haste to stand. The pages of the newspapers flutter to the floor.
Ruby smirks, clearly pleased to finally get a rise out of him. "Do I have your attention now?"
“Where? How long have they been there? How do we find them?”
“Slow down there, cowboy. We can’t just go in there guns blazing. We need to work out a plan. Tone up a bit first because if Lilith shows face, there’s no way in hell either of us are going to get out alive.”
“Your confidence in me is overwhelming,” Sam mutters, and Ruby sighs loudly.
“Christ, leave the ego at the door, Sam, and don’t push me, or I’m not telling you a damned thing. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
Sam arches an eyebrow. “Better be careful, Ruby, you almost sound like you care.”
“I mean it,” Ruby snaps, standing. “Don’t get yourself killed. Wait it out.”
“Jesus, fine.” Sam throws himself back into the chair with his arms crossed, refusing to admit he’s sulking. “I can wait.” Ruby arches an eyebrow. “I can,” he insists, jaw tightening.
Part III
Sam opens his eyes to a white ceiling, cracked tiles forming spider-webbed patterns above his head. He blinks and pushes himself to a sitting position, then bites back a groan as a throbbing pain beats down against his skull.
"Morning, sunshine. About time you woke up."
Sam snaps his head to the side and the motion makes his vision spin. When his eyes finally focus, he takes in the woman leaning her shoulder against the wall with her arms crossed against her chest, legs crossed at the ankles. Her light brown hair falls almost to her waist, and her blue eyes, while amused, crackle with something else, an emotion Sam can't quite put his fingers on.
He slowly reaches for the knife at his side, shocked to find the blade in it's sheath. His suspicion rises instantly.
"Who are you?"
"Aw, Sam, I'm hurt. I thought you would have recognized me by now. Speaking of," she walks over quickly, heels snapping against the carpet, and Sam yelps as she punches him in the shoulder with far more force than anyone her size should be capable. "What the hell were you thinking, taking on a crossroads demon? I always knew you and your brother had a problem with your egos being twice the size of your heads, but that was beyond crazy, even by Winchester standards."
"Ruby," Sam says, startled, though he really shouldn't be so surprised. Only Ruby could pack that much annoyance into such a tiny package.
"Don't sound so happy to see me, Sam. I only saved your life."
"No one asked you to save me." Sam swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He sways as he stands up, dangerously close to falling. "How did you find me anyway?"
"Hell has no walls and a really short grapevine," she says vaguely. Sam glares until Ruby rolls her eyes. “Lilith,” she says, exasperated, and Sam scoffs.
“Of course.”
Ruby shoves him hard back down onto the bed. “Don’t you dare patronize me,” she snaps; her hands curl into fists at her side. “Do you know what I’ve gone through for the past few months? If you want to hear about the corners of hell I’ve seen, by all means, let’s share. I’m an open book.”
“What do you want, Ruby?” Sam asks wearily. He doesn’t bother hiding his exhaustion - Ruby always could see right through him.
“I want to help you.”
Sam almost laughs, but resists the urge. No one can help him now, unless - “Can you help me save Dean?”
Ruby’s hands clench tighter before she takes a deep breath and all of the tension bleeds out of her body. “No,” she says softly, “Nothing I know of is powerful enough for that.”
Sam nods, pushing himself up again, sturdier on his feet this time. He isn’t disappointed. He doesn’t have any hope left to lose. “Then get out.”
“What?” Ruby doesn’t bother to disguise her shock.
“Leave. I don’t want you here, and I don’t need you here either.”
“Sam-”
“Whose body are you riding, Ruby?” He asks, swiftly cutting her off. He doesn’t want her imitated version of understanding, he just wants her to go.
A bit of wariness creeps into her voice behind the sarcasm. “I thought real men didn’t care about designers.”
Sam arches an eyebrow impatiently, and Ruby huffs, “Some secretary.”
He pulls the door open, holding his hand on the knob. “Let her go. Or I send you right back to hell.”
Ruby hesitates, leaning her hand against the doorway. She taps her fingers softly against the wood, debating, staring at Sam. He stares back, unintimidated.
She purses her lips and sighs. “Fine. See you soon,” she adds ominously, pulling the door out of his grasp so it shuts behind her.
--
Sam drives for almost two days straight, putting as much distance between himself and the crossroads demon as possible. Though he won’t admit it to himself, he also does so with the hope that Ruby won’t find him again.
He should know better; Ruby never lets anything get between her and something she wants.
Sam stands at the sound of a knock at the door. He calmly grabs the shotgun off of the table, newly loaded with salt rounds. He’s twenty-five miles outside of the nearest town, holed up in an old shack which, amusingly, the locals labeled as haunted. Sam laid down salt lines at the doors and windows and checked the rooms for EMF, just to be sure - nothing so much as a blip on the screen. Just a story told to keep the kids from wandering into places they aren’t allowed.
If they’re anything like the Winchesters, the stories probably only make breaking into the house even more appealing.
He approaches the door cautiously, holding the barrel against the wood.
The woman on the other side waves a sheet of paper in his face. She barely affords a glance to the shotgun in his hand.
“Proof. This body is one hundred percent socially conscious. I recycle. Al Gore would be proud.” She frowns down at the line of salt along the floor. “You gonna let me in, or should I just stand here and look pretty?”
Sam hesitantly scratches out the salt line, taking the sheet of paper she brandishes in his direction as she barrels past him into the house.
He sighs, eyebrows rising as he comprehends what he’s reading. “You snagged a coma patient?”
“I didn’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities.” She spins around with a grin, particularly proud of herself. “They pulled Jane Doe off of life support, and I jumped in as soon as I was sure her spirit moved on.” She knocks against the side of her head, then smooths her hair back into place. “No one home but your friendly neighborhood demon. Happy now?”
“Thrilled,” he drawls in what even he can admit is an uncanny imitation of Dean. He clears his throat. “That still doesn’t tell me why you’re here.”
Ruby leans her hands back against the table, careful to avoid the bottle of holy water open near the edge. “I can’t save Dean. If there was some way...” She shakes her head and sighs. “But there isn’t. But I can give you something else you want.”
Sam breathes a laugh, putting down the gun in favor of a bottle of whiskey. “And what else do I want?”
“Lilith’s head on a silver platter. Served cold.”
Sam swallows, carefully placing the bottle back down. “How?”
“You know how.”
“My powers.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Ruby, I don’t even know what my powers are. Or how they work.”
“But I do. Word travels fast down in the pit and Lilith doesn’t think much of talking over you while you’re screaming your lungs out - and I mean that literally.”
Sam pushes away the images her words conjure by grabbing the bottle back off of the table and taking a long, slow swig.
“You promise me some patience.” Sam tries to take another drink and Ruby knocks the bottle out of his hands. “Some sobriety would be nice, too.” He scowls. “Promise me that, and I will teach you everything I know.”
Sam eyes Ruby then the whiskey in slow succession. You promised, Dean whispers.
He shakes his head, hands clenching into fists. “What do I have to do?”
Ruby grins.
--
"You want me to exorcise a demon using my mind."
Thinking the words to himself, they sound ridiculous. Saying the words aloud, they sound downright ludicrous.
"What? You don't think you can do it?" Ruby arches both eyebrows, and Sam barks a laugh.
"No, I know I can't," he scoffs.
"Come on, Sam. Where's your self-esteem?" Ruby sounds overly cheerful, punching him in the shoulder just hard enough to shake him.
"Ruby," Sam snaps, gritting his teeth as she smirks, "I had a few visions, that's all."
"You’re immune to Lilith’s powers. You moved a cabinet with your mind," she reminds him.
"Once, that was once, and under... strenuous circumstances."
"Strenuous circumstances," Ruby deadpans. Sam's eyes blaze, daring her to comment further.
She sighs, aggravated. "Sam, you're killing me here. All I'm asking you to do is try. You have so much power, if you would just concentrate- "
"Why do you even care?"
Ruby's eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"
Sam shrugs. "I'm just wondering if you want me to learn how to use my powers for my own benefit or for yours. How do I know you're not going to run off and tell Lilith everything every time I turn my back?"
"Fuck you, Sam," Ruby hisses, glaring eyes flashing to black with her anger. She blinks, and they're brown again so quickly Sam wonders if he imagined the color shift. "I'm a fugitive for you. I was in the running for Lilith's second in command, and now every single demon is gunning for my head, and I let that happen - for you. I'm willing to teach you how to use your powers knowing that you could just as easily use them to send me straight back to hell as soon as I turn my back, and yet for some strange reason, I trust your self-righteous, egotistical ass. So, don't you dare question my loyalty. I'm the last person you should be accusing."
Sam doesn't apologize; he sits back in his chair, mouth set, jaw clenched, his arms folded tight across his chest.
Ruby grits her teeth. “Look, face the cold, hard facts, Sam. To learn to use your powers, you’re going to have to do things that would probably make your skin crawl under better circumstances.” She pushes out of the chair and the legs skid against the floor.
“What are you going to do?”
“Keep Lilith off your trail,” she shouts before turning around and walking backwards with a feral grin, “And find us a guinea pig.”
Sam isn’t sure he wants to know what she means.
--
The door slams when Ruby returns hours later; he hears her ragged breathing, what sounds like struggling, and a crash as what he assumes is a chair hits the floor.
"What the hell are you - Jesus!”
“Not quite,” Ruby huffs, then rolls her eyes when Sam makes no move to help. “No, it’s okay, I’ve got it,” she says, slightly out of breath. She heaves a struggling demon into the chair she knocked over. “Don’t get squeamish on me now, Sammy.”
“Don’t call me Sammy,” he hisses.
“Fine, whatever, are you going to help me so we can get this show on the road or just stand there and look pretty all night?”
Ruby raises her eyebrows and Sam grits his teeth, but moves towards the table to grab rope and a can of spray paint. He tosses the rope to Ruby, and sets about drawing a Devil’s Trap, taking care not to complete the final line before Ruby steps aside.
“You ready?” she asks; out of the corner of his eye, Sam sees the blade of Ruby’s knife catch the light.
Sam shrugs a shoulder. “Not really.” He nods to the knife. “Is that supposed to be comforting?”
“Call it a safety hatch.” She sighs when Sam arches an eyebrow. “Stop procrastinating. Just let it happen, Sam. Don’t fight, and everything should just... flow.”
“Easy for you to say,” he mutters, turning back to the demon, who has remained surprisingly quiet throughout the entire ordeal.
Sam takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, trying to voluntarily access the part of his brain that sends him visions and once sent a large, wooden wardrobe skidding across the floor. Instinctively, he raises his hand, trying to imagine that power flowing through him; he feels it humming across his skin and focuses on the demon, on sending the soul back to hell.
The demon chokes as the tell-tale black smoke bleeds from his mouth. Sam’s head feels ready to explode under the strain, pressure pushing painfully against his temples.
He drops his hand and leans over to grasp his knees, chest heaving.
“Sam,” Ruby murmurs, both concerned and supportive. Sam takes a deep breath, raising his arm again. The pain explodes against his skull instantly while the demon coughs weakly. Sam tastes blood in his mouth from where it drips down under his nose.
The demon laughs as Sam groans in pain and grabs onto the wall so his knees don’t give way. His laughter grates across Sam’s brain, against his skin, until Ruby steps forward and thrusts the blade of her knife through his throat.
“Not funny,” she growls, yanking the knife out. She turns to Sam. “Are you okay?”
Sam doesn’t answer. He leans down to scratch away a portion of the Devil’s Trap, then stumbles silently towards the door.
The breeze blows warm against his face as he stands on the cracked stone steps. He stubs the toe of his shoe in a crevice, kicks the pebbles and watches them fly across the gravel drive. They barely whisper as they land.
The door creaks open behind him, but Sam is too busy finding the best rocks to hurl into the tall grass fifty feet away to care. Shoes clatter against the steps, crackling against the broken stone and concrete.
"Sam, don't beat yourself up about this," Ruby says, attempting to be reassuring. Sam launches one of the rocks into the grass, coming dangerously close to the Impala's windshield. If Dean were here -
He cuts off that train of thought immediately, tossing another rock instead. This one just barely grazes the bumper.
"Sam-" Ruby tries, but he doesn't want to hear anything she has to say.
"You know what, Ruby? Whatever. I tried. I failed. What else is there to say?" He heaves the last rock, and this one hits, bouncing off of the hood before hitting the ground. A part of him winces, hearing his brother bellowing at him for daring to hurt his baby. Another part of him hopes he scratched the paint.
"Are we still talking about the demon, or are we talking about something else?" Ruby's footsteps are the only warning he has before she stands directly behind him, a warm heat at his back. He turns, fists clenched.
"Don't you dare try to psychoanalyze me. You know nothing about that night."
"That rage you're feeling right now - you feel it, don't you? Like a fire running through your veins, just under your skin?" Sam doesn't answer because he knows exactly what she's talking about and hates that he does - that part of him that isn't human, demon blood bled into him as a child that cost him his mother, his father, and now his brother, and any chance at a normal life before he had a will or a choice.
"All you have to do is harness that power, Sam,” she says, voice hushed. “Accept it.”
Sam knows she's right, and he hates that, too. Using his powers is like a Pandora’s box - once opened, there’s no telling what might escape, but there’s no going back.
He takes a moment to dwell on the fact that she knew exactly what to say to rile him up, and can't help but bite out, "You think you know me so well, don't you?"
"I know you well enough." The words go unsaid, but they hang in the air, a fraying rope tying them together that Sam wishes he could cut and Ruby keeps pulling tighter: Not as well as Dean.
--
That night, Sam dreams of Dean, arms and legs tied down to a table with Lilith standing over him, a butcher knife gleaming in her hands. She grins, her teeth stained red as she draws a line down Dean’s chest from collar bone to navel.
Dean screams, neck bowing, back arching as far as his restraints will allow, causing the blood to flow faster.
“Shhh,” Lilith says, running the blade across his cheek, “Don’t scream.”
Sam wakes up biting back a scream of his own.
“You okay?” A voice asks, and Sam jumps, almost falling off of the couch. Ruby stands in the doorway, hip against the wall, arms crossed over her chest - the very image of a sentinel standing guard.
Sam isn’t sure he likes that image; he shakes his head, sniffling as he turns over. “I’m fine,” he mutters, ignoring her disbelieving huff of breath and her eyes on his back as he stares at the back of the couch, leveling his breathing in a mockery of sleep.
Some time after dawn, Sam finally falls into a light, troubled sleep. The image of Dean torn apart and bloody flashes against his eyelids, and Sam tosses and turns until the door slams shut, jolting him awake.
He sits up as Ruby tosses her jacket onto the table. Sam hears keys rattling, and glances up from the couch with a glare.
“Where the hell were you?”
"Oh, you know, the usual - causing mass murder and mayhem and using the Impala as a getaway car." She rolls her eyes, leaning back against the edge of the table and tossing the keys to Sam. He catches them without batting an eye, glaring.
Ruby holds up a plastic bag, shaking it in mid-air. “I got you breakfast.”
“Don’t drive my car,” he snaps, the word my burning a hole in his throat.
“Thank you, Ruby, that was awfully kind of you,” she mocks, dropping her voice in a terrible false falsetto. “No problem at all, Sam.”
Sam shoves a forkful of eggs in his mouth, still glaring.
He tells himself that she’s - it’s - just a car. Maybe if he thinks the words enough, they’ll become the truth.
How are we even related? Dean says at the back of his mind; Sam can even see him shaking his head. He closes his eyes and takes a sip of scalding coffee, hoping to burn the image out.
“Hear anything about Lilith?” He asks, dropping the subject, a peace offering.
Ruby perches on the end of the table, popping one of his french fries into her mouth. “Not so much as a whisper, but rumor has it she’s circling the wagons, trying to find out what you’re up to. We may have to tip her off - dangle the carrot, keep her on her toes and off our ass.”
Sam arches an eyebrow. “We?”
Ruby huffs, biting off the end of another fry. “Fine, me.”
“The thought of you getting anywhere near Lilith makes my skin crawl.”
“And the thought of you letting your powers languish unused makes my skin crawl, so we all have problems, don’t we?" Ruby snaps, shoving off of the table hard enough the legs shake.
Sam lowers the cup of coffee, gritting his teeth. It’s far too early for this shit.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep, calming breath. “This is a complicated situation, Sam, nowhere near as simple as just finding and killing Lilith. I need to keep her off our trail while we track her down, keep her moving in the direction we want. You letting your powers get flabby isn’t helping the situation any.”
"Why tell Lilith anything at all then?" He asks, ignoring her last comment entirely.
She rolls her eyes to the ceiling, as if praying for patience. "Because she let me out of the pit to kill you, Sam. There's a dead crossroads demon handpicked by Lilith, knowing you would show up eventually, yet you're obviously still alive and kicking - and thanks for making my life infinitely harder, by the way."
"How many times are you going to berate me for this?" Sam asks, glaring.
"As long as it takes for me to drill into your thick skull that your harebrained schemes to save your brother are a bad idea. My point," she says as soon as he opens his mouth to argue, "Is that her plan changed, and I need to convince her and the rest of her faithful followers I'm still on her side."
"Who’s side are you on, Ruby?"
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Ruby says nonchalantly, but with a dangerous edge.
Sam’s eyebrows rise to his hairline. “Doesn’t mean anything.”
Her eyes blaze, darken, Sam swears they turn black in the shadows. She takes a step forward, and Sam half expects her to toss him into the wall. Instead, she clenches her hands into tight fists, practically shaking with rage.
"I don’t need to explain myself to you. What Lilith made me do - what I let her do to me so that I could convince her I was sorry-” She takes a deep breath, calming with a roll of her shoulders. Her hands relax at her sides. “This is the third time you’ve questioned my loyalty, Sam. Question it a fourth time and I might not be as forgiving."
Sam huffs uneasily, frowning. He only trusts Ruby as far as he can throw her, especially when he remembers her broken promise to find a way to save Dean, and when her temper flares like... well, a demon.
"We do have other options, you know," he says appeasingly, crossing his arms over his chest.
Ruby barks a laugh. "Like what? A Devil’s Trap and some holy water won’t cut it with Lilith. You know that."
"What about the Colt?"
Ruby stills and turns slowly, disbelief warring with open incredulity across her face. Sam begins packing salt rounds with methodical precision.
She stares at him from across the room. "You can't be serious."
"Dead serious," Sam tells her, picking up a new casing.
Ruby’s mouth opens and closes, and Sam takes pleasure in knowing he’s finally done something to render her speechless. She eventually stutters out, "Sam, we are talking about the same Colt here - the Colt, killer of demons-"
"And any other supernatural creature out there. Yes, we're talking about the same one." Sam shoves the salt rounds to the side, pushing his chair back so he can stand and slowly approach the other side of the table, where Ruby still hasn't moved, too shocked to say anything else. "Ruby, if we find the Colt, we'll be practically unbeatable against Lilith."
She stares, skeptical. "Sam, even if we do find the Colt, making the bullets takes time and precision, and Lilith may very well have destroyed-"
"No." Ruby huffs a breath, annoyed at being cut off a second time. "No, she wouldn't have destroyed it."
There's a moment of silence where Ruby clearly questions his sanity, before she closes her eyes. "Okay, so say I'm buying into your theory. Lilith might still have the Colt, or she got rid of the Colt, scattered the pieces at the four corners of the earth, who knows. How are we going to find it?"
"I'm not," he says, obviously, and her eyes snap open. "You are."
"Oh, really?" She laughs. "Tell me, Sam, how exactly am I going to ask Lilith's most loyal followers about the Colt and not look like I'm trying to stab her in the back?"
"You'll figure something out." Sam smiles, grabbing his gun off of the table. Ruby smacks her hand over the barrel, pushing it roughly out of the way.
"I'll make you a deal. I'll help you find the Colt if you start practicing using your powers.” She shrugs, crossing her arms tightly. “Final offer. Cue the Jeopardy music."
Sam glares, but weighs his options carefully. He has no chance of finding the Colt on his own. Demons never liked him very much, and the past few months haven’t exactly endeared him to them any more. He knows Ruby is his only hope - not just of killing Lilith, but of saving Dean.
"Fine," he mutters.
--
After two weeks and another three attempts, Sam still hasn’t succeeded in sending a demon back to hell with solely the power of his mind. Despite Ruby’s ringing endorsements, he’s beginning to wonder if there’s any truth to him having powers beyond visions and accidental telekinesis.
Sam spins a beer bottle around in his hands; the sound of dragging glass echoes through the room. He hears Ruby approaching before he sees her canting her hip against the edge of the table. He doesn't look up from running his index finger through the condensation collected on the surface of the wood.
Ruby sighs, "Look, you're being too hard on yourself, Sam. Your powers are like a muscle. You have to work them out before you get better."
Sam laughs bitterly around the rim as he takes another sip. "Right." He slams the bottle down onto the table. "Ruby, we've been at this for two weeks now, and I'm not getting any closer to controlling my powers than I was when we started." And you’re not any closer to finding the Colt, he wants to say - two weeks, and nothing from Lilith or her lackeys but a string of dead ends and trails that lead to nowhere. He’s beginning to wonder if Ruby is even looking for the Colt at all. He bites his lips against the accusation, not in the mood to be the object of her anger tonight.
"I'm not just talking about pulling demons, Sam." She takes a deep breath, and Sam instantly tenses, knowing he's not going to like what she says. "Look, I know losing Dean was hard and-"
"Don't," he cuts her off before she has a chance to finish her sentence. "Don't even try to-" He swallows hard past the lump in his throat. "Where the hell do you get off slapping me with that time heals all wounds greeting card bullshit, Ruby?"
"I used to be human, Sam," she says quietly, "And I remember what it's like to lose someone."
Sam glares, focusing on his breathing, not on the tightness in his chest her words have conjured. He switches gears, veering their conversation back to demons and Lilith, topics he knows how to deal with. He can handle his anger; he can't handle his grief. "Maybe we need to try again."
"Or maybe that's the problem, Sam. You're trying too hard."
Sam slides backwards; his chair skids against the wood floor, and he stands, towering over Ruby. "As opposed to what? Not trying at all? You’re the one who wanted me to learn how to use my powers so badly. Lilith is still out there somewhere, and every single one of my losses is another one of her gains."
"Sam, this can't all be about revenge. You have to focus on the big picture here."
"The big picture," Sam repeats. He stalks towards her, but she stands her ground, staring up at him defiantly. He can still see the wariness behind her eyes and uses that to his advantage. "My brother is rotting in hell because of Lilith. Dean died, Ruby. I watched him be torn apart in front of me while she laughed. There is no big picture. Just Lilith."
Sam turns away from her and grabs another beer from the table. "Don't you think you've had enough?" She scolds quietly.
"Go to hell," he mutters. The fact that he's drunk enough to say the phrase without wincing tells him she's right, but he still won't admit that aloud.
Ruby yanks the bottle out of his hands, tossing it to the floor. The glass shatters on impact.
"What the hell?" Sam growls.
"I'm not going to watch you run yourself into the ground again, Sam."
"No one said you had to watch." Ruby slaps his hand away as he reaches for another bottle, and he grips her wrist, hissing, "Goddamnit, Ruby, you're not-"
Ruby throws herself at him, pressing her lips to his, cutting off his words before he has a chance to finish them. He isn't even positive how he was going to finish that sentence, isn't sure he wants to think about it at the moment. Ruby successfully distracts him, winding her arms around his neck, tugging her fingers through his hair. He kisses her back for a moment before reality crashes down on him, and he pushes her away.
"Ruby, what the hell are you doing?" He gasps out, keeping her at arm’s length with a hand firmly on her shoulder.
"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Ruby smirks. "Thought you were smart, Sam." She attempts to move closer, but Sam pushes against her, and she stops with a sigh. "What's the problem?"
"What's the problem? Ruby, where do I start?" He can't explain why, but being with Ruby, with anyone, like this, here and now... he doesn't think he remembers any emotions other than anger. He doesn't think he would know how to do this, even if she weren't a demon.
"Because I'm a demon?" she asks coyly, and the fact that she can read him so well still worries him and pisses him off, but he doesn't have the chance to focus on either of those emotions. She slips out of her jacket, stalking towards him, and he fights to hold his ground, to not back away. "Sam, I already told you, it's just me in this body. There's no one else home."
She leans up on her toes and kisses his neck, and he shivers, closing his eyes. "Ruby-"
"Sam," she whispers, tipping his chin up with one of her fingers, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn't think; he clutches at her back, kisses her until he can't breathe, can't think, only feels this.
--
When Sam wakes up, Ruby isn’t anywhere to be found, and the keys to the Impala are gone. Neither of these things surprise him.
Sam rubs his eyes, settling down at the table, eyeing the bottle of whiskey at his elbow.
You promised, Ruby’s voice whispers, and Sam sets his jaw, flicks the cap off of the bottle, and flips open a newspaper. One voice of reason is enough.
"I found it," Ruby declares, door slamming against the wall as she strolls into the room, and Sam looks up from the table with a glare.
"Ruby, have you ever heard of the concept of knocking?"
"Like you have anything I haven't already seen." She leers, dropping into a chair. "Unless, of course, you were in the middle of something. You know, I could always help with that." She runs her hand down his arm, and he slaps it away without a word, not in the mood for her games.
"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Ruby pouts. “What's up your ass?"
"You're interrupting," Sam gripes, each syllable clipped.
Ruby rolls her eyes. "You know I thought we already established-"
He doesn't let her finish her sentence, instead shoving the newspaper under her nose, two articles already circled in red. "Demonic omens, Ruby, not sex."
"Oh," she almost sounds disappointed, pushing the newspaper - and the bottle of whiskey, much to his annoyance - to the side. "Well, that's not nearly as fun."
Sam blinks. "Aren't you even going to look at them?"
"Don't have to. I have my own sources."
"Demons, no doubt," he mutters.
Ruby twists to the side, bending her knees over the arm of the chair. "Don't go all self-righteous on me again, Sam. Do you want to know what I heard last night or not?"
Sam sighs, blowing his hair out of his face - she could be such a pain in his ass - but waves for her to go on.
"There's a group of demons over in Tennessee... and they have the Colt."
Sam shoves backwards, chair falling in his haste to stand. The pages of the newspapers flutter to the floor.
Ruby smirks, clearly pleased to finally get a rise out of him. "Do I have your attention now?"
“Where? How long have they been there? How do we find them?”
“Slow down there, cowboy. We can’t just go in there guns blazing. We need to work out a plan. Tone up a bit first because if Lilith shows face, there’s no way in hell either of us are going to get out alive.”
“Your confidence in me is overwhelming,” Sam mutters, and Ruby sighs loudly.
“Christ, leave the ego at the door, Sam, and don’t push me, or I’m not telling you a damned thing. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
Sam arches an eyebrow. “Better be careful, Ruby, you almost sound like you care.”
“I mean it,” Ruby snaps, standing. “Don’t get yourself killed. Wait it out.”
“Jesus, fine.” Sam throws himself back into the chair with his arms crossed, refusing to admit he’s sulking. “I can wait.” Ruby arches an eyebrow. “I can,” he insists, jaw tightening.
Part III