SPN story: The Other End (What's Left of You That I Don't Have), part 1

[kassidy62]

The Other End
prompt art by vail_kagami for spn_illuminated

The Other End (What’s Left of You That I Don’t Have)
story by kassidy62
(Wincest/R-rated, 11,500 words)

Summary: AU wherein Ruby doesn't betray Sam and the Apocalypse is averted. It begins after Sam escapes the panic room in "When the Levee Breaks" during Season Four, picking up immediately after the fight between Sam and Dean at the hotel.
Warnings: non-con (not between Sam and Dean), gore, violence, unfortunate use of healing cock
AN: A couple of scenes mirror dialogue from canon. Sam has slight kinetic abilities.
My first time doing spn_illuminated. It was wonderful to meet and talk to Vail about the story, and I’m very happy I got to write a piece with her lovely work in mind.
Art Masterpost

He ran out the door of the hotel, blood on his lip from the fight, the same old shit feelings he'd lived with for years and fought against spilling out all over the place-anger, fear just beneath it that Dean was right (Sammy, you freak). Shame, twisting and burrowing deeper inside the mess in his head, trying to find a darker place to hide in.

But he couldn't hide what he was doing anymore. No more slipping outside motel rooms after Dean was asleep, no more denials of a lifetime ago, telling himself he could be different, a student-someday-lawyer, a normal guy with friends (shapeshifter bait in the end) and the perfect girlfriend (burned up on a ceiling). He was never going to be normal. It was all for nothing.

Unless he could kill Lilith. It was that or die. Too late, too far gone for anything else, junked out on demon blood the way he was.

Sam looked out over the hotel grounds. Misty gray fingers reached from the bottom of the clouds toward the ground, the parking lot wet and dark from the off-and-on-rain. Ruby strode toward him from somewhere close by the entrance to the hotel, her dark hair flipping in a wave behind her. She joined Sam, saying nothing. They headed for the ridiculous Caddy Sam had filched that morning from the back of a car lot.

His brother’s voice reverberated in his brain, under his skin, in time with his heart, feeding the anger of the very thing Dean feared he was (knew he was). A monster.

Maybe it was true, even before the demon came and dripped blood in his mouth as a baby, and especially so now that Sam fed the worst of everything in himself with Ruby's blood. It was poison, and it changed him. But the blood meant power. In the end, it didn't matter if a man or a monster killed Lilith and stopped the Apocalypse.

It started raining again, fat drops splatting on his head and against his face. Just as they reached the car, Sam heard someone behind them and turned around fast. A dark-haired woman with glasses followed them, three men beside her, raindrops sinking into the dark of their suits. Sam raised a hand toward them, palm up. All three of the men dropped to the pavement, their limbs rigid, bodies writhing, black clouds of smoke rising from their mouths toward the sky.

Ruby reached for the woman’s arm, wrestled with her for the gun she’d pulled. The woman’s glasses flew off and skittered over the pavement as she turned, cracking Ruby in the face with the butt of the gun. Ruby’s eyes went black, her nose flooding blood over her lips and chin. Sam was mesmerized by the flow.

“Pay attention, Sam,” Ruby yelled. The gun went off.

Something impacted his neck, digging in. It stung. He raised his hand. It was a dart, a trank dart. He cracked a smile, feeling his lip split again. Somehow it was funny, that he’d been shot like an animal on one of those nature shows. Being relocated. His legs felt loose, muscles relaxing, threatening to drop him.

Sam bared his teeth and fought the sensation, glaring at the woman who’d fired at him. She was tall, long-haired, red lips and demon eyes grinning at him. He stared at her, imagined his hands around her throat, squeezing until her body went limp.

She dropped the gun, hands flying to her neck, eyes wide and startled. The weapon clattered on the parking lot.

Yes. His fingers tightening around her neck.

Without warning the scene switched in his head. It was Dean. Dean. Lying on the hotel floor, face pale and still.

Sam lost his focus, falling to his knees. The demon straightened, rubbing her throat. Sam flung a last, furious thought at her, a mental wrench of hands around her neck. The woman bent over, choking.

He couldn’t hold onto it. Whatever stuff they’d put in the dart spread over his body like paint spilling over a canvas, wiping everything out beneath it. Sam closed his eyes.

*

He woke tied up in the back of a van, feet and hands bound together behind his back. Voices came from up front, music on the radio turned up loud enough to obscure what was being said. The van made a tight left turn. Sam’s body rocked toward where Ruby lay, then settled.

The van’s interior was dark and curtained, Ruby’s face a pale oval against the carpet, mouth slack and eyes closed. He wondered what they’d done to her.

Sam swallowed back bile. Whatever tranquilizer they’d shot him with made him want to throw up, but the last thing he wanted was to lie in his own vomit. Carefully he rolled onto his stomach away from Ruby, feeling the cell phone in his pocket press into his hipbone. He rolled his hips, trying to make the cell inch up out of his pocket, but he got nowhere fast. It was on vibrate, but he was still shocked when it buzzed against his hip.

“Dammit,” he said, startled. The voices up front stopped abruptly. Ruby moaned as if he’d disturbed her. Sam sagged into the carpet and lay still, his hair hanging over his face. Stupid, stupid. But he was still feeling slow from the effects of the drug.

The van swerved and braked suddenly, Sam sliding forward, his head hitting hit the bottom of the seat in front of him. Maybe it was Dean on the phone. He closed his eyes, waiting, seeing Dean’s face again in his mind’s eye.

Sam’s throat tightened. Not Dean. Dean had told him they were done if he walked out. He heard the back doors of the van being flung open. He didn’t look, not yet. I hope we can make it right when it’s over.

The female demon spoke. “What are you up to?”

He was locked in the back of a van going who knew where, turning into something that scared himself and Dean both. He was glad Dean wasn’t there to see it, but he missed him, no matter how bad things had gotten between them. Promise you, Dean, if I make it through--if there’s any way, I’ll make it right.

He opened his eyes. She had two demons with her this time. He couldn’t see much behind them-a fence running down by a walkway, a glimpse of road behind them. She crawled inside the van and pushed him roughly onto his side.

“What are you doing back here?” She grabbed a handful of his hair at the top of his head, pulling viciously.

He squinted up at her. “What do you think I can do, tied up like this?”

She smirked, looking his body up and down. “You might be surprised.”

Sam lunged upward, almost managing to butt her in the face. She jerked backward, fingers tight in his hair and nearly tearing it out by the roots in her haste to get out of the van.

Sam looked her over, returning the favor. “So you’re who they sent to come and get me?” His lips thinned and widened then turned down, contemptuous.

Her face flushed. The van doors slammed shut again. He heard footsteps, then doors opening and closing. The van pulled onto the road again. He looked over at Ruby. She hadn’t moved.

Sam closed his eyes and tried not to be sick as the van swayed and bumped over the street.

*

The next time he awakened, he was in a high-ceilinged room. Daylight came in through a corner window, plenty of sky showing through most of it. Tree tops from some distance away showed in the bottom part of the glass. He figured he was on the second, maybe third floor of an older house. There was a dirty old radiator on the opposite wall, off-white color peeling to expose a darker color underneath, the same as the walls. The floor was piled high with trash and who knew what else beneath. The place was obviously abandoned. He and Dean sometimes squatted overnight in places like this, though they tried to find something with floors they could actually see.

Sam was on an old metal cot, spread-eagled, tied with thick ropes around his waist, arms and legs. The metal strips strung over the framework of the cot beneath the mattress made a rattling, tinny sound as he struggled to escape.

“They've got us good, Sam.” Ruby coughed, sounding hoarse. She was across the room in a bed like his, tied in the same manner, though the foldup bed looked roomy for her, whereas his heels hung off the edge.

“Do something,” he said, panting.

She frowned, exasperated. “Sure, I'll just wiggle my magic demon horns, except for oh, I don't have any. You think I wouldn't like to? They've got wards on this room. I can't leave it. Sure you can't break free?”

“I’m trying.” Sam grunted, straining harder. The bed squealed, moving across the floor a couple of inches as he yanked his legs as hard as he could.

“Okay, obviously not working.” Ruby rolled her eyes when fury kept him pulling against the ropes. “Get a grip, Sam. Your go-juice levels are down after putting those demons down in the parking lot. Not like you had any extra to begin with, thanks to your brother.”

They heard noise outside the room and fell silent, listening. Someone climbed the stairs, slow and deliberate. The door to the room creaked open slowly. Lilith stood in the doorway, looking pleased with herself.

“Speak of the devil,” Sam said tightly. Ruby gave him a swift, quelling glance.

“Not quite, Sam.” Lilith smiled. She nodded at Ruby. “And look who else is here. Cat got your tongue?”

Ruby shrugged. Lilith sat down on the edge of Ruby’s cot, patting her arm. She leaned down and spoke into her ear. “What did you hope to accomplish, really?” she asked gently, almost pitying. Ruby tried to lean away. Lilith took the lobe of her ear between her teeth.

Ruby gasped and jerked against the ropes. Lilith began to tug, Ruby frantically canting her head toward Lilith’s mouth to reduce the space widening between them. “You fucking bitch!” she yelled. Lilith pulled inexorably away, grinding her teeth into Ruby’s flesh. Ruby cried out.

Sam pulled against the ropes that held him, the cot rattling and heaving. Lilith’s head hung over Ruby’s, their hair spread out and tangling together. Ruby managed to get a hand into Lilith’s long hair, scrambling at it, yanking as hard as she could. It didn’t stop her. Blood stained Lilith’s bared teeth.

Sam tried to concentrate, fixing Lilith’s face in his mind as she’d been at the motel the last time he saw her. He saw her patting the bed, waiting for him, inviting and smug. He watched her recline. He lowered himself over her body, reached for the knife overhead. Ruby’s demon killing knife. He felt the cool hilt in his grip. He concentrated, pressed the tip of it to her chest and into skin, digging, searching for her heart.

Lilith’s eyes rolled up, blind white. She pushed herself upright, a hand to her chest. Her head cocked inquisitively toward him. A bubble of blood on her chin rolled downward. "Do that again and I'll kill her," she whispered.

"Let her go!”

Lilith watched him, considering. “No." She bent over and bit into Ruby’s ear lobe, pulling at it and gnawing until it was thin, stretching longer. The flesh began to tear. Ruby arched up off the cot and cried out, low and guttural.

Lilith sat up, swallowing. She licked at the bloody wreath ringing her mouth. "You're even stronger than I thought, Sam. Looks like I got you just in time."

“In time for what?" Sam snarled. He yanked at the ropes around his wrists.

"The end. You should be happy. The end is the beginning for you."

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? What do you want?”

Lilith smiled sweetly at him. “I’m right here, you don’t need to shout. I’m sure you figured it out already. If you’re here, I’ve got one less Winchester to worry about when the curtain rises on the final act, right?” She scrubbed her chin with the back of her hand, then licked it. Ruby's eyes were clenched shut, tears tracking down her face. She turned as far away as she could from Lilith, exposing her mutilated ear, the lobe torn away. Blood dripped onto the floor, swallowed up by the garbage.

Lilith stood and glided over to Sam, then knelt. She lowered her head into the area between his neck and shoulder, burrowing into the crook. He whipped his head into hers, crashing them together, trying to crowd her out. She bit him deep into the meat of his shoulder, sawing at it with her blunt teeth. He yelled, thrashing, fighting to get away. Unfolding her body, she squeezed herself onto the cot, pressing into his side, all the while with her upper and lower jaw fastened into his skin, pushing strongly, trying to meet together through the thick hunk of meat in her mouth. He grunted in pain, pulling his shoulder up to press her out of the space but that made it worse, made it throb and tear more-

Her lips quivered against his skin. She murmured something, lush and heady words, obscenities slurred into the blood pouring out of him, utterly meaningless to him but weighty, sinking inside, making him weak and encouraging the flow. Her body settled, snuggling against his side. Lilith bit and sucked at the wound, tearing at it again whenever the flow lessened.

Sam’s hands splayed out. His strength faltered, head rolling to the side. Lilith drank deep.

*

Dean stared out the double windows, books stacked up high on the table below them. His back ached, scraped raw from when Sam knocked him through the divider at the hotel. His throat felt hot and swollen. He didn’t let on. It was humiliating enough that his little brother had somehow managed to beat the hell out of him.

“We’re going after Lilith,” he said, still watching out the window, avoiding Bobby’s look.

“No,” Bobby said from behind him, “first you’re gonna go after Sam.”

Dean turned. “I don’t have time. The world’s about to end, or did you forget that?”

Bobby raised a placating hand. “I know you're pissed. I'm not making apologies for what he's done, but he's your-”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Blood? He's my blood, is that what you're gonna say?”

Bobby met his look head on. “He's your brother. And he's drowning.”

Dean's shoulders slumped. “Bobby, I tried to help him. He took off. That’s what he does best, ever since he was old enough to run. And I’m tired as hell of chasing him.”

Bobby shook his head impatiently. “Do it anyway. Dean, listen to me-”

Dean stepped closer to where Bobby stood. "I can't make him come back with me when he never wanted it in the first place!"

“He wanted to go to college, Dean. College! Don’t make it something it wasn’t. It was never about leaving you.” Bobby looked wry. “Your Dad, now, that might have been a different story.”

“He wanted to be normal, yeah, I got that loud and clear, same as I got that he and Dad couldn’t even talk to each other by the time he left. But normal means blind and ignorant. Normal doesn’t have the faintest clue about what’s out there. It means people get killed, Bobby, you know that.”

“Sam has a lot more than a clue, Dean, but that stuff’s all in the past. Your brother needs your help and he needs it now, more than he ever has.” Bobby pulled out his cell, staring at it. “He sure as hell ain’t taking nobody else’s help. The Winchester way for sure,” he added, more than a little sarcasm in his tone.

Dean turned and stared out the window again, feeling numb, almost as dead inside as the outdoors looked. “He’s not taking your calls because Ruby’s with him. I can’t help him.”

"Can't or won't?" Bobby asked, sighing loudly when Dean didn't answer. Finally he left the room. Dean sat down on the orange loveseat in the corner, staring blankly at the books balanced on every available surface. Slowly he pulled his phone out of his pocket, running his fingers over it. He and Sam had installed an app last time they updated phones that allowed them to see where the other was located. It was an easy precaution. Too easy not to look.

Apparently Sam was somewhere outside of Maryland.

What the hell was he doing in Maryland? Even if he wanted to go after Sam, Maryland was almost twenty-four hours away. And what could he do even if he reached him?

He picked Ruby over me. He didn’t have any sway over Sam, not anymore. It was all Ruby, all the time. Sam’s drug of choice.

I told him he was a monster. He lowered his head into his hands.

“It’s not too late, Dean. It never is, not when it comes to family.” Bobby's voice was earnest, quiet.

Dean looked up, startled. “You trying to give me a heart attack or what?”

Bobby gave him a ghost of a grin. "Don’t blame me if you can’t hear for nothin’.”

Dean shook his head slowly, looking out the window. “l just don’t know, Bobby.”

“Well, figure it out. We're running out of time, and so is he. Sam's-” Bobby shook his head. "I don't know what's gonna happen to him, but it ain't good." Bobby turned on his heel and walked out of the room again.

Dean’s throat closed up. He clenched the phone in his hand, watching the dot on the screen. He remembered when Sam left for Stanford and all the months leading up to it. Sam's pinched, unhappy face, starved for something Dad and Dean couldn't give him. They`d nearly lost him for good. But even when Sam was gone, Dean had never given up on him coming back.

And then at the hotel he’d turned around and said the very same thing to Sam that his father had said. Dean remembered the tears in Sam’s eyes, the desperation in his face. The way he’d pleaded for Dean to trust him.

I’m not Dad.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. “Cas,” he said, almost before he realized he was going to speak. He looked upward. “You out there?” He waited. “C’mon, Cas! You want me on call for the God squad, you can take a second to listen to me.”

He waited, but Castiel didn’t appear. Finally Dean stood and went to find Bobby to tell him he was leaving. Bobby hugged him, surprising him, then thumped him on the back. “I knew you were made of better stuff than that, son.”

Dean gave him a wry look. "Sure about that?"

"Yeah," Bobby said. "I am."

Dean zipped up his jacket and headed out, down Bobby's drive, past all the old cars piled every which way all over the big grassy lot. He turned toward the gas station and filled up the Impala’s tank, buying a large cup of black coffee while he was at it. He started the car again and cracked the window, taking his first sip. It was good, hot on his tongue.

He started out for Maryland and Sam as the sun set, a dying light on the horizon. He drove a steady seventy-five when he was able and faster when he could. The Impala ate up the hours and the miles until the road was a rolling blur of glittering asphalt beneath her wheels and Dean needed badly to rest.

He didn’t stop. More than rest, more than anything, he needed to find Sam.

*

The two male demons called the female Lilah. Lilah liked to do things to Ruby while they stood and watched. She particularly liked working with a X-acto knife. Her favorite was pink, with a nice grip that kept her fingers from slipping in all the blood. She equipped it with blade #28, which was hooked like a scythe for shaping and excellent for leather work. She drew her patterns carefully, holding the X-acto just right, so that the strange curves and slow curls flowed wide and then small, sweeping over the skin of Ruby’s belly and abdomen. Wiping the blood away as often as she needed to keep the pattern in view was Lilah’s only irritation, and it was a minor one. The cutting entranced her.

Lilith came in, standing just inside the doorway. She closed her eyes and listened to Ruby’s voice, how it wavered when Lilah bent low and asked Ruby what she thought of her work.

Neither Lilah nor the male demons touched Sam. He was Lilith’s.

Lilith fed from Sam throughout the first day, lying with her body against his, hot as a furnace. She pressed her breasts to his side, her arms wrapped around his neck, whispering  more of the strange words that made the blood surge to her mouth, traitor to his body. She drank, weakening and then starving him of the power Ruby’s blood had given back to him after the long hours in Bobby’s panic room.

The last time she drank from Sam, Dean came to stand over them, hands crossed over his chest and mouth set in disgust as if he’d been made to swallow something bitter.  Sam told him he’d tried to get away, but it didn’t matter. Dean’s pupils glowed red, filled with hate. He leaned close.

“You sick freak,” he whispered. “Why did I ever think of you as a brother?” The flames in his eyes leaped out onto Sam. Sam’s hair burned, electric blue flames, the fire sizzling and popping so that his skin erupted in blisters.

*

Lilith left Ruby and Sam alone most of the next day. Lilah and her two companions came in and gave them some water, took them out a few times from the room, down the hallway in the old farmhouse to a bathroom. The wallpaper was stained brown in places, and the room smelled like old sewage.

Sam lay on the cot, eyes fixed to the ceiling, body quaking all over occasionally, then subsiding. His face was gray, his eyes red-rimmed. He hallucinated, had one-sided conversations with people who weren’t there. He called out Dean’s name, and once sobbed it over and over like an inconsolable child.

He finally came to himself enough to talk to Ruby during the afternoon. “Does it hurt?” he asked, turning his head to look at her. His green eyes were dim and fathomless, full of blameless pain like an animal’s.

“Am I hurting, do you mean?” Ruby asked.

Sam nodded. “Your ear. The rest. Do demons hurt when their bodies hurt? I’ve seen plenty of you walk around with killing injuries.”

“It hurts if we’re in here when it’s happening,” Ruby answered. “But even then it feels kind of far away. Unless we stay with one body too long. It’s like we get anchored in or something. Then we feel more pain.”

“So does it hurt you now?” Sam asked. His fingers twisted and squirmed, the veins stark, standing out on the backs of his hands. It was the only part of him he couldn’t seem to keep still at least part of the time.

The same question he’d asked first, but she hadn’t understood. “Yeah,” Ruby said quietly.

“I’m sorry if it’s bad.” Sam’s voice was soft, nearly weightless.

“You didn’t do this,” Ruby said sharply. She sighed. “How’re you feeling?”

Sam’s eyebrows rose. “You’re not too good with the touchy feely stuff, are you?”

She sighed again. “Sam, meet demon.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “But I appreciate the effort anyway. Thanks.”

Ruby laughed, horrified when it nearly turned to tears.

Sam saw it, too. “You’re not like the rest of them.” He stared up at the ceiling again. “Why is that, you think?”

“I don’t know,” Ruby said softly. “I never have.” She paused. “You overheard them talking, right? Something’s going down tonight. They wanted us to hear.  Probably figure the anticipation’ll drive us nuts.”

“Yeah. Something bad’s coming.”

Ruby turned her head and looked at him a long moment, then away. “Yeah.”

*

The Chevy’s headlights cut a path through the dark, fog creeping up, meeting over the road. The trees blurred one into the other alongside. He drove over a twisting, curving two-lane blacktop highway, unable to drive over forty. Even that sometimes swung him into the oncoming traffic lane, but he couldn’t make himself slow down, not with the litany of faster, faster, ticking like a clock inside his head.

The road took a sudden sharp right, and Dean almost drove off the road, instead stepping on the brakes and swerving the car sharply. His front tires bumped into the grass. The rear held the pavement.

He leaned back in the seat and rubbed his eyes, wishing for more coffee.  He pulled out his phone, staring at it. “Probably no signal,” he muttered tiredly, surprised when there actually was. He called Sam. It rolled over into voicemail, same as it had before.  “Hey, it's me. Uh...” he cleared his throat, not knowing what to say. “Look, I'll just get right to it. I'm still pissed, and I owe you a serious beatdown. But I shouldn't have said what I said. I'm not Dad. We're brothers. Family. No matter how bad it gets, that doesn't change.” Dean closed his eyes. “Sammy, I'm sorry. Whatever goes down next, we need to face it together. Call me.” The phone beeped.

He dropped it into his lap, hunched over the steering wheel. Shit, it can’t be too late.

Dean straightened up, his mouth set in a determined line. He pulled back onto the road and drove, more relieved than he could say when the road finally widened and straightened, the fog falling back with the trees, retreating into the fields.

He took the next exit, pulling into a truck stop. The fluorescent lights high up in the canopy overhead dimmed as the sun rose.

The clerk inside smiled at him cheerily when he paid for the biggest cup of coffee in the place. The place was shiny, every surface polished and reflective. Too clean, too shiny, too cheery-the place gave him an eerie Stepford Wives vibe.

He checked the phone app again. The dot that represented Sam had been still for too long. It felt wrong. Why would Sam hole up at this late stage? Could he have thrown out his phone, would he have done that?

Or maybe somebody had him so he couldn’t go anywhere.

Dean’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. He started up the Impala and drove.

*

Shortly before sunset, the door to their room opened. Lilith entered wearing a long white dress.

“Big night on the town?” Ruby asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lilith ignored her, lowered herself to her knees in the trash beside Sam’s cot and stroked the hair off his forehead, then smoothed over his cheeks lovingly, down his throat to brush over the wound at the top of the shoulder. Sam shivered, staring up at the ceiling.

“So far the mighty have fallen,” she whispered. “But the distance really wasn’t very far at all, was it?” She leaned over, forcing her tongue into the shoulder wound, lapping up fresh blood. Sam didn’t react and she withdrew, licking her lips. “It doesn’t matter, Sam. There are plans for you. When they’re complete, no one will be able to stop you.” Her hand trailed over his chest, resting over his heart, then moved to curve over a nipple. She held it there, warming it.

Lilith looked over at Ruby. “What were you thinking, Ruby? Did you think you could actually stop Lucifer?” She began unbuttoning Sam’s shirt. “The poor little demon who wanted to be human again. Really? The humanity’s burned out of you. None of your wishes, none of what you think you’ve done in its name can bring it back.”

Ruby rolled her head and looked at her. “So you’re all dressed up for springing Lucifer from the cage tonight, right? I have to tell you, I’m not getting it. All I can see is that you’ll be second in command once he’s back. Been a long time since you had a boss peering over your shoulder, Lilith. Think it’ll sit well with you?”

Lilith finished unbuttoning Sam’s shirt, folded it back and smoothed her hands over the edges. Sam blinked down at her, finally roused from his stare at the ceiling. The skin under his eyes was papery and nearly black.

Lilith unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Sam tensed, and Lilith smirked at him. “There’s a good boy, Sam.” She looked at Ruby again. “In your most secret of secret little hearts, is it possible that this is what you were after? All that time?” She grasped the waistline of Sam’s jeans and underwear, dragging them both down over his thighs.

“Stop,” Sam whispered, his lips dry and cracked. His stomach muscles writhed against her touch.

“No, I’m not talking about his body. He paid for the blood you gave him with that, the little whore. I’m talking about how you wanted him to love you,” Lilith said, ignoring him. “He doesn’t have room for you in his heart, silly little demon. There’s only one person for him. Isn’t that right, Sam?” She leaned over and crushed her mouth to his, quick and savage. Sam turned his head to the side and dragged his mouth away, gasping. Lilith’s hair trailed over his face. She licked and kissed over his chin, down his throat, to the ragged red edges of his wound, where she began to suck, clinging to him. Sam cried out miserably.

Finally Lilith resurfaced, her face smeared in red. “If Sam’s hurt, or dreaming, he needs help, he’s alone … it’s always, always Dean,” she said in a sing-song voice. “It will never be you, Ruby. You never had a chance.”

Lilith ran a hand down his body and curled it around his scrotum, rolling his balls gently in her hand. Her other hand caught him at the base of his flaccid cock. He flinched from her touch, shuddering.

“That just won’t do, Sam,” Lilith chided. She raised herself up and swallowed him whole.

“Fuck you, get off me!” he screamed, his voice breaking. He slammed his head against the cot, pulled his feet up a short inch before the ropes caught him, slammed them back down, drummed his wrists against the sides, anything to stop her.

Oh god, oh please, and suddenly he heard his own voice, saying it out loud. He was saying it out loud. He made himself shut up, biting his tongue until it bled, swallowing his own blood, swallowing again, tongue swiping, seeking more of it, then biting the inside of his cheek for more. Jesus, drinking his own blood. He didn’t recognize himself, wished that he didn’t, too confused and weak, as if he’d died already or wanted to be instead of leaving only this shell, this blood-sucking freak he’d made of himself behind.

Sam turned his head and vomited thin spit off the side of the cot.

Lilith didn’t stop, didn’t so much as flinch, her wide mouth sucking him, tongue probing, licking at his cock. It began to fill, some alien thing not part of him, not, twitching against her tongue. Sam moaned in shame, trying to twist, get away.

Ruby watched Lilith, her mouth stretched obscenely over him, moving up and down, sucking him like a lollipop, slurping at the head and pulling off. His cock plopped out of her mouth, fat and glistening. Lilith looked at Ruby and smiled, triumph on her face, then sank back down over him. Sam’s back arched helplessly, his face turned away. Ruby heard the noises he made, fear and disgust, shame and sickness and something else he would never have wanted her to hear pouring out of his mouth.

Sam’s breaths were long and rasping after Lilith was done with him, as if he struggled to breathe. It didn’t seem to concern Lilith.

“Your blood and hers, your come ... what’s left of you I don't have yet, Sam?” Lilith watched him, considering, then dropped her head down next to his. “Is there anything else I can find to take?” she whispered. She reached up fast and clutched his balls in her hand, squeezing sudden and hard. He moaned, his eyes watering.

Lilith reached up and licked the water from his eye. “There,” she murmured, and brushed his hair off his forehead again. “Now I’ve got it all.”

“Dean,” Sam said like a prayer before his fogged, fucked-up mind remembered he shouldn’t, that Dean wasn’t there. Lilith sank back on her haunches and laughed, supporting her body with a hand in the trash on the floor.

part 2