Supernatural - born to buy into something (1/1) - Ruby, Sam/Ruby
Title: born to buy into something
Author: Tonya (
_fullofgrace)
Rating: PG-13/R
Genre: Ruby, Sam/Ruby
Disclaimer: The usuals. No own, no sue.
Timeline: post- “Sin City”
Chapter word count: 3322
Summary: It’s all a means to an end.
A/N: The following contains theories about who I think Ruby could be, and I’m sure I’ll be proven wrong later, but I plan to live in my little bubble until then. If you want to read more on the origins of Lilith (and “Samael” who is said to be the Prince of demons and Lilith's husband) later, here’s a wiki on her and her role in good v. evil.
***
Some still call her by her original name, Lilith. The ones that call her that are far and few between. They know her as Adam’s first wife, too independent and forceful and full of sins like lust to stay among the holiest. After her fall from good graces alongside Azazel and a handful of other angels, some took it upon themselves to nickname her the Scarlet Woman, the fallen angel--the demon--that uses her feminine wiles and seduction to get her way. She chose “Ruby” herself, welcoming the name brandished upon her with a variation of her own.
But no matter what they call her, they all say it with contempt.
And she could care less.
She will get hers when the time comes, but it won't come in blood and pain like the other demons believe. Hers will come in violence and revenge and her proper spot on the throne beside him.
She likes the name Ruby.
It sounds best, almost poetic, when slipping from the tongue of a dying demon who had the nerve to underestimate her and her drive.
***
Sam is easy enough to track, and it surprises her that the Winchesters can fly under the demonic radar of others so well.
All she has to do is think like a hunter, think like a Winchester. She has few connections amongst demons nowadays--hard to keep friendly ties when you’re on a one woman crusade to kill off the competition--so she does legwork just like them.
She keeps her eyes open for any signs and follows the trails she knows the Winchesters will take.
They’re very predictable that way.
Sam never questions her when she shows up seemingly out of the blue, and she wonders just when he'll finally find the courage to ask.
***
She used to have memories.
Flashes of places she'd never been, people she'd never seen, things she'd never done.
Flashes creating chaos inside her head, lighting those dark corners of her mind with color and warmth.
The memories stopped after Bobby shot her in the chest.
She doesn’t miss them.
***
Azazel believed that all he needed to do was push Sam in the right direction with visions and prophecies and the pain of losing those he loved. Just shove him over that fine line into the dark.
Ruby knows that it has to be more subtle than that. It takes promises of his brother's salvation. It takes a helping hand when the time calls for it. It takes a quiet determination to allow him to think he leads this dance as much as she does.
She'll play along for as long as it takes, allow him to walk that line between her side and his, and when the time finally comes, she won't need to nudge him.
He'll meet her on the other side willingly.
***
The second time Sam asks her name, the corners of her lips curl upward into a playful smirk.
"I already told you."
He frowns at her from across the floor, always keeping a good amount of distance between them during these meetings. "What's your name?" he repeats as if that deadly drop in octave of his voice--if only he knew how demonic he sounded when he was angered--will make her crumble into a moment of honesty, of openness.
Ruby leans back on the unforgiving hard mattress, elbows holding up her weight, and she stares at her own reflection in the mirrored ceiling. "Keep up with me here, Sammy," she drawls, watching his reflected form study her from the other side of the room. "One word, two syllables. Ru-by."
Always Ruby.
She drops her gaze from the ceiling and raises an eyebrow as he folds his arms across his chest. His jaw clenches, and she can see the thread of tension, of frustration, travel down the cords of his neck. She waits for him to ask again.
"Don't call me Sammy," he grumbles instead, grabbing his backpack and heading for the door, leaving Ruby in the room he's paid for.
He never asks her real name again, but she knows she'll tell him when she needs to play that hand.
***
There are whispers that Sam killed a Crossroads demon.
Ruby finds him in a coffee shop a week later, laptop balanced precariously on a small circular table. He looks up at the intrusion on his private time as she sits down across from him, stealing a sip from his mocha drink. She licks her lips and smiles, and he frowns at her.
Always a frown, never a smile. Sometimes a smirk, but never a smile.
He hastily closes his laptop, hoping to keep some sort of privacy around her. "What do you want?"
Never “how did you find me.”
"I'm glad you're putting my little present to use," she says, leaning forward in her seat, arms folded across the cool surface of the table, "but going after the Crossroads demon yourself? Not exactly the smartest move." She tilts her head as she smirks at him. "And here I was thinking you were graced with beauty and brains."
"It had to be done," he replies dryly, holding her inquisitive gaze with a stony glare of his own.
She almost wants to smile.
He sounds more like the leader he needs to be with each passing day.
A push. A nudge. Just toe that line.
"You want big brother out of this deal? You let me do the finagling. I apparently have a bit more finesse than you."
"And you have yet to deliver on that promise of yours," he snarls back.
"All in good time," she nods with a smile.
She leaves before he can protest, and she takes his coffee drink with her.
A push. A nudge. Just toe that line.
***
Ruby meets Dean by accident.
She corners Sam at some lowbrow dive outside of Memphis, and when she sidles up to him at the bar, ordering a screwdriver--easy on the juice, hard on the vodka--he's pissed.
And she's simply glad to get a rise out of him.
"How the hell do you keep doing this?" he asks, the frustration evident in his voice as his hand tenses around his beer bottle.
Five months, and he’s finally gotten around to asking the question he‘s been avoiding.
Doesn’t mean she’ll get around to answering.
"I work in mysterious ways," is all she offers in response.
Sam grabs her by the arm, and she's sure she's going to have a nice set of bruises in the morning from where his fingers dig in. Leaving his beer behind, he pulls her away from the bar and out into the night where they stand on the sidewalk like two lovers in a spat.
"What do you want now, Ruby?" he demands, his grip on her arm never loosening.
"You're always so suspicious, Sam. We really need to work on that."
He sighs, and she‘s amused that he still allows her to play this game with him, a back and forth of questions with no answers.
"What do you want?" he asks again.
And though it’s fun to get under his skin, tonight, she actually does have a reason for showing up unannounced.
She's about to tell him that the celebrating is a bit early considering there's a second nest of vampires they need to vanquish, but Dean comes out the swinging door of the building before she can open her mouth.
"Sammy, everything cool?" he asks before he catches sight of her, but when he does, the concerned look fades into a devilish grin, and Ruby can see why the Crossroads demon couldn't pass up an opportunity with him. "Guess everything is more than cool," he says, giving his brother a wink.
Sam's frown only deepens, his hand still on her arm as if she’s actually fighting to get away. "This is Ruby."
It's almost comical how quickly the grin fades, and Ruby can only smirk in response.
"So you're the demon who's supposedly trying to save my life?" Dean asks, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah, I am,” Ruby nods. “Might be a good idea to try and not get yourself killed before then, huh?"
He mutters demonic bitch under his breath, but it doesn't phase her, only makes her grin a bit wider. She's been called worse though the centuries. Bitch is merely a compliment nowadays.
Dean glares at her before motioning over his shoulder. "Dude, I'm getting a second round."
She can almost hear the "and your ass better get back inside too" that he holds back.
He raises an eyebrow at Sam, who nods in response, before he disappears back into the bar.
"Such an obedient little brother," she teases when they‘re alone again.
Sam sighs and finally releases her arm. This time, he doesn't need to ask the question again.
"Don't go getting wasted just yet," she says, her tone serious. "There's a second nest, smaller than the first one you guys tackled tonight but still threat enough. Old Warehouse at Preston and 3rd."
He stares at her for a moment. "Why do you keep helping us with our cases?" he finally asks.
"Cause it's what I do." She turns and starts away. "Tell your brother he owes me a screwdriver," she calls back over her shoulder.
Dean never buys her that drink.
***
Sam starts to leave motel room doors unlocked, lets her walk in unannounced. like she belongs there.
The third time she walks in without knocking is in a motel on the outskirts of Philadelphia.
"You know, any psychopath off the street could just come strolling in here," she grins as she flops down on the bed that's obviously his--much tidier than the other, his belongings in a heap at the foot of the bed.
He sits at the small desk by the window, surrounded by books and an open notebook in front of him. He doesn’t say anything in response to her grand entrance, doesn't even look up from his research.
"So we doing the silent treatment tonight?" she laughs with a raised eyebrow.
He turns a page in the book closest to him.
She chuckles under her breath.
He can easily go back to locking the door, make her knock like she used to when they first started interacting. It would give him the option of keeping her away, of locking her out of his life. Of having the choice, the upper hand.
But instead, he allows the doors to be unlocked. It’s a small gesture, and he probably rationalizes it by telling himself it’s for convenience, but she sees it for what it truly is.
Him accepting her into his everyday existence.
Ruby makes another little notch on her side of the scoreboard.
Little by little, she's winning his trust, and all the time, he's hating her for it.
***
The first time is angry and hard.
Good little Sam Winchester fucking a demon in some dingy motel room.
His anger and frustration finally hit a boiling point, and she can't help but laugh when he pushes her roughly against the wall, the back of her head hitting hard enough to make her teeth chatter. Her hands claw at his back, nails digging into tender skin, as she feels his teeth sink into the soft flesh under her earlobe.
"What would Daddy say, huh?" she chuckles darkly.
He bites down harder, and a quiet noise of surprise passes by her lips. He pulls away, eyes dark with anger and guilt and lust. His hand goes to her throat, and she leans her head back further in invitation.
The gentle touch turns to a squeeze, but she doesn't blink. She expects this, really.
"I should kill you."
"You should. You won't," Ruby shrugs. "Instead? You're gonna fuck away all your little emo pain."
His hand tightens more, and she meets the discomfort with a smile.
"Come on, Sammy," she smiles wider, "you know you wanna play."
"Don't call me Sammy," he says before his lips crush hers.
***
She saves Dean's life once.
Not the way she promised months before, but she saves it nonetheless.
Dean has become increasingly more reckless, his “fuck death” mentality growing each day, so she has to play guardian angel to him as much as she does for Sam.
Dean Winchester is not supposed to die being ripped apart by a gargoyle.
There's a time and place for everything, and that is not it.
Later, Dean grunts out an almost indecipherable “thanks” as he passes her on his way to the Impala. Sam just stares at her as if he's never seen her before, and it makes her skin itch.
It's odd seeing him look at her as if she's human.
She doesn't even wait for him to thank her.
She gets the hell out of there before the itching drives her insane.
***
The Winchesters are in the middle of a poltergeist case in Nevada when she shows up in the diner, sliding into the booth across from Sam.
He doesn't even look up as she steals a fry from his plate, continuing to work meticulously on his laptop.
"Every time I see you, you either want food or sex," he says, finally looking up at her and trying his best to sound annoyed.
But by now, she knows what he sounds like when he gets truly annoyed. His voice drops and she can nearly hear the tension in his jaw as he clenches it.
This isn't annoyance, and they both know it.
But if pretending to be annoyed by her presence just makes it easier for him to stomach the fact that he doesn't mind having her around, then she‘ll let him live the lie for now.
Cause it will only make it that much more fun later when she forces him to face the truth in his own actions.
Ruby grins and steals a second fry, dipping it in the ketchup on the edge of his plate. "What can I say? I have one hell of an appetite."
***
She hears the rumble of the Impala outside the motel window, and she knows she's outstayed her welcome.
Recently, she’s taken to lingering a bit longer than she used to, no longer just a half-dressed fuck on the mattress and then back out the door. And it worries her that she lingers now, that she doesn’t quite mind lying wrapped up in their wet sheets.
But she ignores that feeling that needles at her, that warns her, because it’s all a means to an end.
Tonight, Sam's unaware in the shower, much like he always is after they have sex. It amuses her that he thinks he can just wash her off, get rid of her essence with the right amount of soap and scrubbing, when obviously he doesn't want to when he keeps letting her back into his bed.
Grabbing her things and getting dressed, Ruby opens the door just as Dean has his key lifted to unlock it. He glares for a moment before twirling the keys around his finger and then sliding them into his jacket pocket.
"What are you doing here?" he asks.
She smiles, and it's sweet and innocent and she knows it just gets under his skin even more coming from the likes of her. "Your brother."
She pushes by him, her shoulder bumping his, chuckling under her breath.
***
“I had a vision.”
Ruby is just barely through the door, and she shrugs a bit as she closes it behind herself, latching it as not to be interrupted by Dean. Sam is sitting on the edge of his bed--the meticulous one, the tidy one, the one she’ll be lying in soon--and he watches her with a look she can’t quite put her finger on.
She doesn’t like when she can’t read him.
She loses power and he gains.
“Good for you,” is her nonchalant response as she props herself up on the small table across from the beds, “Would you like a cookie?”
He stands with a sigh, and Ruby narrows her eyes as he doesn’t take the bait.
He always takes the bait.
“I haven’t had a vision in months, Ruby,” he says as if that explains everything.
She hitches a shoulder. “Don’t look at me, Psychic Boy. That was Azazel’s deal, not mine.”
He stops right in front of her, arms folded across his chest. And she wishes he would frown or snarl or do something familiar to them because the look he’s giving her now is unnerving.
“What?” she asks, burying her own uneasiness under a façade of irritation.
“It was about you.”
Ruby slowly licks her bottom lip.
The idea of her death doesn’t scare her.
What scares her is that she recognizes that look now--it’s the one he always seems to get when he talks about Dean’s deal--and it makes her insides twist in the pit of her stomach.
“Not like I’ve never been nearly killed before,” she says with another shrug before grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him to her.
She kisses him because it’s much easier than having him look at her like that.
***
Three nights later, she shows up in his motel room, the hunter’s blood still warm as it soaks through her shirt. She doesn’t acknowledge him, just starts stripping out of her stained clothing and tossing the items onto the carpet.
She’s down to nothing, making her way to the bathroom, when he grabs her arm and stops her in her tracks.
His brow furrows, a small frown playing on his lips. “What did you do, Ruby?”
A bare shoulder goes up in response. “It‘s all about survival of the fittest, Sammy,” she says with a hint of a smile.
His frown deepens, and he gets that look again, and suddenly, she’s not sure which of them is leading this dance anymore.
She shakes off his grip easily and locks the bathroom door behind herself.
***
When she fucks him that night, she whispers in his ear about the rush she felt when the hunter’s warm blood flowed between her fingers.
He flips them over with a growl, pinning her to the mattress and thrusting into her harder until her words turn into incoherent sounds.
***
“He has a month!”
He has her pinned against the wall, arms caging her in as he angrily leans into her personal space. She stares him down with a smile, even if she is a bit nervous about the Colt in the back waistband of his jeans.
“I know,” she says simply. “I can count.”
“And if I remember correctly, you were supposed to have some miracle up your sleeve to save him. Where the hell is it, Ruby?” he snarls.
She exhales deeply, leaning her head back against the wall. “Maybe it is time I share the big, juicy secret to your brother’s survival, huh?”
“Or I put a bullet in you,” he says, not missing a beat.
And she almost believes him. Almost.
“I warn you now,” she says, tongue darting across her lips. “It won’t be the godsend you were hoping for. It’ll be what I’ve trained you for.”
She watches him swallow hard, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously even as his eyes hold their stern glare.
“Gotta start a story at the beginning though, right?” she says. “There’s been one question you’ve always asked me, but I’ve never really answered.”
His arms drop from around her head as he takes a single step back from her. She remains at her spot, leaning lazily against the wall as he studies her. “Your name.”
She smiles, and it’s sweet and genuine and she watches something in his eyes break at the gesture.
“It’s Lilith.”
***
Prophecies say that Lilith is to marry the fallen angel Samael.
He is to lead the demons.
She is to lead him.
Author: Tonya (
_fullofgrace)Rating: PG-13/R
Genre: Ruby, Sam/Ruby
Disclaimer: The usuals. No own, no sue.
Timeline: post- “Sin City”
Chapter word count: 3322
Summary: It’s all a means to an end.
A/N: The following contains theories about who I think Ruby could be, and I’m sure I’ll be proven wrong later, but I plan to live in my little bubble until then. If you want to read more on the origins of Lilith (and “Samael” who is said to be the Prince of demons and Lilith's husband) later, here’s a wiki on her and her role in good v. evil.
***
Some still call her by her original name, Lilith. The ones that call her that are far and few between. They know her as Adam’s first wife, too independent and forceful and full of sins like lust to stay among the holiest. After her fall from good graces alongside Azazel and a handful of other angels, some took it upon themselves to nickname her the Scarlet Woman, the fallen angel--the demon--that uses her feminine wiles and seduction to get her way. She chose “Ruby” herself, welcoming the name brandished upon her with a variation of her own.
But no matter what they call her, they all say it with contempt.
And she could care less.
She will get hers when the time comes, but it won't come in blood and pain like the other demons believe. Hers will come in violence and revenge and her proper spot on the throne beside him.
She likes the name Ruby.
It sounds best, almost poetic, when slipping from the tongue of a dying demon who had the nerve to underestimate her and her drive.
***
Sam is easy enough to track, and it surprises her that the Winchesters can fly under the demonic radar of others so well.
All she has to do is think like a hunter, think like a Winchester. She has few connections amongst demons nowadays--hard to keep friendly ties when you’re on a one woman crusade to kill off the competition--so she does legwork just like them.
She keeps her eyes open for any signs and follows the trails she knows the Winchesters will take.
They’re very predictable that way.
Sam never questions her when she shows up seemingly out of the blue, and she wonders just when he'll finally find the courage to ask.
***
She used to have memories.
Flashes of places she'd never been, people she'd never seen, things she'd never done.
Flashes creating chaos inside her head, lighting those dark corners of her mind with color and warmth.
The memories stopped after Bobby shot her in the chest.
She doesn’t miss them.
***
Azazel believed that all he needed to do was push Sam in the right direction with visions and prophecies and the pain of losing those he loved. Just shove him over that fine line into the dark.
Ruby knows that it has to be more subtle than that. It takes promises of his brother's salvation. It takes a helping hand when the time calls for it. It takes a quiet determination to allow him to think he leads this dance as much as she does.
She'll play along for as long as it takes, allow him to walk that line between her side and his, and when the time finally comes, she won't need to nudge him.
He'll meet her on the other side willingly.
***
The second time Sam asks her name, the corners of her lips curl upward into a playful smirk.
"I already told you."
He frowns at her from across the floor, always keeping a good amount of distance between them during these meetings. "What's your name?" he repeats as if that deadly drop in octave of his voice--if only he knew how demonic he sounded when he was angered--will make her crumble into a moment of honesty, of openness.
Ruby leans back on the unforgiving hard mattress, elbows holding up her weight, and she stares at her own reflection in the mirrored ceiling. "Keep up with me here, Sammy," she drawls, watching his reflected form study her from the other side of the room. "One word, two syllables. Ru-by."
Always Ruby.
She drops her gaze from the ceiling and raises an eyebrow as he folds his arms across his chest. His jaw clenches, and she can see the thread of tension, of frustration, travel down the cords of his neck. She waits for him to ask again.
"Don't call me Sammy," he grumbles instead, grabbing his backpack and heading for the door, leaving Ruby in the room he's paid for.
He never asks her real name again, but she knows she'll tell him when she needs to play that hand.
***
There are whispers that Sam killed a Crossroads demon.
Ruby finds him in a coffee shop a week later, laptop balanced precariously on a small circular table. He looks up at the intrusion on his private time as she sits down across from him, stealing a sip from his mocha drink. She licks her lips and smiles, and he frowns at her.
Always a frown, never a smile. Sometimes a smirk, but never a smile.
He hastily closes his laptop, hoping to keep some sort of privacy around her. "What do you want?"
Never “how did you find me.”
"I'm glad you're putting my little present to use," she says, leaning forward in her seat, arms folded across the cool surface of the table, "but going after the Crossroads demon yourself? Not exactly the smartest move." She tilts her head as she smirks at him. "And here I was thinking you were graced with beauty and brains."
"It had to be done," he replies dryly, holding her inquisitive gaze with a stony glare of his own.
She almost wants to smile.
He sounds more like the leader he needs to be with each passing day.
A push. A nudge. Just toe that line.
"You want big brother out of this deal? You let me do the finagling. I apparently have a bit more finesse than you."
"And you have yet to deliver on that promise of yours," he snarls back.
"All in good time," she nods with a smile.
She leaves before he can protest, and she takes his coffee drink with her.
A push. A nudge. Just toe that line.
***
Ruby meets Dean by accident.
She corners Sam at some lowbrow dive outside of Memphis, and when she sidles up to him at the bar, ordering a screwdriver--easy on the juice, hard on the vodka--he's pissed.
And she's simply glad to get a rise out of him.
"How the hell do you keep doing this?" he asks, the frustration evident in his voice as his hand tenses around his beer bottle.
Five months, and he’s finally gotten around to asking the question he‘s been avoiding.
Doesn’t mean she’ll get around to answering.
"I work in mysterious ways," is all she offers in response.
Sam grabs her by the arm, and she's sure she's going to have a nice set of bruises in the morning from where his fingers dig in. Leaving his beer behind, he pulls her away from the bar and out into the night where they stand on the sidewalk like two lovers in a spat.
"What do you want now, Ruby?" he demands, his grip on her arm never loosening.
"You're always so suspicious, Sam. We really need to work on that."
He sighs, and she‘s amused that he still allows her to play this game with him, a back and forth of questions with no answers.
"What do you want?" he asks again.
And though it’s fun to get under his skin, tonight, she actually does have a reason for showing up unannounced.
She's about to tell him that the celebrating is a bit early considering there's a second nest of vampires they need to vanquish, but Dean comes out the swinging door of the building before she can open her mouth.
"Sammy, everything cool?" he asks before he catches sight of her, but when he does, the concerned look fades into a devilish grin, and Ruby can see why the Crossroads demon couldn't pass up an opportunity with him. "Guess everything is more than cool," he says, giving his brother a wink.
Sam's frown only deepens, his hand still on her arm as if she’s actually fighting to get away. "This is Ruby."
It's almost comical how quickly the grin fades, and Ruby can only smirk in response.
"So you're the demon who's supposedly trying to save my life?" Dean asks, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah, I am,” Ruby nods. “Might be a good idea to try and not get yourself killed before then, huh?"
He mutters demonic bitch under his breath, but it doesn't phase her, only makes her grin a bit wider. She's been called worse though the centuries. Bitch is merely a compliment nowadays.
Dean glares at her before motioning over his shoulder. "Dude, I'm getting a second round."
She can almost hear the "and your ass better get back inside too" that he holds back.
He raises an eyebrow at Sam, who nods in response, before he disappears back into the bar.
"Such an obedient little brother," she teases when they‘re alone again.
Sam sighs and finally releases her arm. This time, he doesn't need to ask the question again.
"Don't go getting wasted just yet," she says, her tone serious. "There's a second nest, smaller than the first one you guys tackled tonight but still threat enough. Old Warehouse at Preston and 3rd."
He stares at her for a moment. "Why do you keep helping us with our cases?" he finally asks.
"Cause it's what I do." She turns and starts away. "Tell your brother he owes me a screwdriver," she calls back over her shoulder.
Dean never buys her that drink.
***
Sam starts to leave motel room doors unlocked, lets her walk in unannounced. like she belongs there.
The third time she walks in without knocking is in a motel on the outskirts of Philadelphia.
"You know, any psychopath off the street could just come strolling in here," she grins as she flops down on the bed that's obviously his--much tidier than the other, his belongings in a heap at the foot of the bed.
He sits at the small desk by the window, surrounded by books and an open notebook in front of him. He doesn’t say anything in response to her grand entrance, doesn't even look up from his research.
"So we doing the silent treatment tonight?" she laughs with a raised eyebrow.
He turns a page in the book closest to him.
She chuckles under her breath.
He can easily go back to locking the door, make her knock like she used to when they first started interacting. It would give him the option of keeping her away, of locking her out of his life. Of having the choice, the upper hand.
But instead, he allows the doors to be unlocked. It’s a small gesture, and he probably rationalizes it by telling himself it’s for convenience, but she sees it for what it truly is.
Him accepting her into his everyday existence.
Ruby makes another little notch on her side of the scoreboard.
Little by little, she's winning his trust, and all the time, he's hating her for it.
***
The first time is angry and hard.
Good little Sam Winchester fucking a demon in some dingy motel room.
His anger and frustration finally hit a boiling point, and she can't help but laugh when he pushes her roughly against the wall, the back of her head hitting hard enough to make her teeth chatter. Her hands claw at his back, nails digging into tender skin, as she feels his teeth sink into the soft flesh under her earlobe.
"What would Daddy say, huh?" she chuckles darkly.
He bites down harder, and a quiet noise of surprise passes by her lips. He pulls away, eyes dark with anger and guilt and lust. His hand goes to her throat, and she leans her head back further in invitation.
The gentle touch turns to a squeeze, but she doesn't blink. She expects this, really.
"I should kill you."
"You should. You won't," Ruby shrugs. "Instead? You're gonna fuck away all your little emo pain."
His hand tightens more, and she meets the discomfort with a smile.
"Come on, Sammy," she smiles wider, "you know you wanna play."
"Don't call me Sammy," he says before his lips crush hers.
***
She saves Dean's life once.
Not the way she promised months before, but she saves it nonetheless.
Dean has become increasingly more reckless, his “fuck death” mentality growing each day, so she has to play guardian angel to him as much as she does for Sam.
Dean Winchester is not supposed to die being ripped apart by a gargoyle.
There's a time and place for everything, and that is not it.
Later, Dean grunts out an almost indecipherable “thanks” as he passes her on his way to the Impala. Sam just stares at her as if he's never seen her before, and it makes her skin itch.
It's odd seeing him look at her as if she's human.
She doesn't even wait for him to thank her.
She gets the hell out of there before the itching drives her insane.
***
The Winchesters are in the middle of a poltergeist case in Nevada when she shows up in the diner, sliding into the booth across from Sam.
He doesn't even look up as she steals a fry from his plate, continuing to work meticulously on his laptop.
"Every time I see you, you either want food or sex," he says, finally looking up at her and trying his best to sound annoyed.
But by now, she knows what he sounds like when he gets truly annoyed. His voice drops and she can nearly hear the tension in his jaw as he clenches it.
This isn't annoyance, and they both know it.
But if pretending to be annoyed by her presence just makes it easier for him to stomach the fact that he doesn't mind having her around, then she‘ll let him live the lie for now.
Cause it will only make it that much more fun later when she forces him to face the truth in his own actions.
Ruby grins and steals a second fry, dipping it in the ketchup on the edge of his plate. "What can I say? I have one hell of an appetite."
***
She hears the rumble of the Impala outside the motel window, and she knows she's outstayed her welcome.
Recently, she’s taken to lingering a bit longer than she used to, no longer just a half-dressed fuck on the mattress and then back out the door. And it worries her that she lingers now, that she doesn’t quite mind lying wrapped up in their wet sheets.
But she ignores that feeling that needles at her, that warns her, because it’s all a means to an end.
Tonight, Sam's unaware in the shower, much like he always is after they have sex. It amuses her that he thinks he can just wash her off, get rid of her essence with the right amount of soap and scrubbing, when obviously he doesn't want to when he keeps letting her back into his bed.
Grabbing her things and getting dressed, Ruby opens the door just as Dean has his key lifted to unlock it. He glares for a moment before twirling the keys around his finger and then sliding them into his jacket pocket.
"What are you doing here?" he asks.
She smiles, and it's sweet and innocent and she knows it just gets under his skin even more coming from the likes of her. "Your brother."
She pushes by him, her shoulder bumping his, chuckling under her breath.
***
“I had a vision.”
Ruby is just barely through the door, and she shrugs a bit as she closes it behind herself, latching it as not to be interrupted by Dean. Sam is sitting on the edge of his bed--the meticulous one, the tidy one, the one she’ll be lying in soon--and he watches her with a look she can’t quite put her finger on.
She doesn’t like when she can’t read him.
She loses power and he gains.
“Good for you,” is her nonchalant response as she props herself up on the small table across from the beds, “Would you like a cookie?”
He stands with a sigh, and Ruby narrows her eyes as he doesn’t take the bait.
He always takes the bait.
“I haven’t had a vision in months, Ruby,” he says as if that explains everything.
She hitches a shoulder. “Don’t look at me, Psychic Boy. That was Azazel’s deal, not mine.”
He stops right in front of her, arms folded across his chest. And she wishes he would frown or snarl or do something familiar to them because the look he’s giving her now is unnerving.
“What?” she asks, burying her own uneasiness under a façade of irritation.
“It was about you.”
Ruby slowly licks her bottom lip.
The idea of her death doesn’t scare her.
What scares her is that she recognizes that look now--it’s the one he always seems to get when he talks about Dean’s deal--and it makes her insides twist in the pit of her stomach.
“Not like I’ve never been nearly killed before,” she says with another shrug before grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him to her.
She kisses him because it’s much easier than having him look at her like that.
***
Three nights later, she shows up in his motel room, the hunter’s blood still warm as it soaks through her shirt. She doesn’t acknowledge him, just starts stripping out of her stained clothing and tossing the items onto the carpet.
She’s down to nothing, making her way to the bathroom, when he grabs her arm and stops her in her tracks.
His brow furrows, a small frown playing on his lips. “What did you do, Ruby?”
A bare shoulder goes up in response. “It‘s all about survival of the fittest, Sammy,” she says with a hint of a smile.
His frown deepens, and he gets that look again, and suddenly, she’s not sure which of them is leading this dance anymore.
She shakes off his grip easily and locks the bathroom door behind herself.
***
When she fucks him that night, she whispers in his ear about the rush she felt when the hunter’s warm blood flowed between her fingers.
He flips them over with a growl, pinning her to the mattress and thrusting into her harder until her words turn into incoherent sounds.
***
“He has a month!”
He has her pinned against the wall, arms caging her in as he angrily leans into her personal space. She stares him down with a smile, even if she is a bit nervous about the Colt in the back waistband of his jeans.
“I know,” she says simply. “I can count.”
“And if I remember correctly, you were supposed to have some miracle up your sleeve to save him. Where the hell is it, Ruby?” he snarls.
She exhales deeply, leaning her head back against the wall. “Maybe it is time I share the big, juicy secret to your brother’s survival, huh?”
“Or I put a bullet in you,” he says, not missing a beat.
And she almost believes him. Almost.
“I warn you now,” she says, tongue darting across her lips. “It won’t be the godsend you were hoping for. It’ll be what I’ve trained you for.”
She watches him swallow hard, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously even as his eyes hold their stern glare.
“Gotta start a story at the beginning though, right?” she says. “There’s been one question you’ve always asked me, but I’ve never really answered.”
His arms drop from around her head as he takes a single step back from her. She remains at her spot, leaning lazily against the wall as he studies her. “Your name.”
She smiles, and it’s sweet and genuine and she watches something in his eyes break at the gesture.
“It’s Lilith.”
***
Prophecies say that Lilith is to marry the fallen angel Samael.
He is to lead the demons.
She is to lead him.