“What’s on your mind, dear?” the girl asked, her voice caustic-care, mocking.
Sam snorted through his nose and kept brushing his teeth, watching her in the mirror. She was resting against the headboard, naked, ankles wide, knees drawn up and together as she shoveled cold pizza into her mouth, smirking at him as she chewed.
“Y’always thinkin’ of your brother when you fuck me, Sam?” she said through the food.
He scrubbed his tongue, spit, rinsed, spit again. The water ran pink. He faced her and leaned against the sink, ignoring how his blood rushed in his ears, made his muscles quiver, flooded his cock again. Her blood. Her blood was raging in him.
“Why are you doing this?” he grated. “Why now? I’ve looked for months…”
She shrugged and brushed dark hair off her shoulder with pizza-greasy fingers. Bloody fingers.
“I just found out where he was.” She reached for another slice.
“I haven’t seen you in three weeks, Ruby.” He moved nearer to her. Over her, looming. She blinked innocently up at him. “And now you show up with a fix and a fuck and an address. Why? Don’t,” Sam snapped. “Do not fucking lie to me, don’t give me any cryptic bullshit. What do you want? Why would you tell me where Dean is now?”
“I just found out,” Ruby repeated slowly, as if speaking to an imbecile. She tossed the pizza crust back in the box and wiped her fingers on the bedspread. It was destroyed anyway after what they’d done. “I knew you’d need a little…extra to get into the place. I can lure a lot of the demons away, maybe all of them, there’ll still be men with guns between you, him, and getting out. Besides, Sam, you missed me, didn’t you?”
“Like a fucking hole in the head.”
Ruby giggled and lay back, spreading out on the bed, wiggling down, opening her knees, displaying the wet mess between them. “Fucking hole, huh?”
She laughed again when Sam knelt over her, one hand fisted in her hair, the other lifting her small body by the hips. He thrust into her, pushed hard, relentlessly, filling her and then hurting her with his length and angle, and then he held her there, watching ticks of pain and pleasure war across her face.
“Why, Ruby?” he growled, hips moving, stirring his cock inside her, opening her wide. “Fucking answer me. What do you want?”
“Sam. Fuck. Want your help. Fuck, fuck.” She reached for him, trying to pull him down, but he kept away, knowing if he brought his face anywhere near her body he’d tear into her flesh. He needed to control this, wanted to keep from needing her so much.
Ruby came to him two weeks after Dean disappeared. He and Dean had split up during a case in L.A. and Dean had never returned from talking to the surviving members of a family whose son had been killed by…Sam couldn’t remember now. Didn’t care anymore. He’d searched everywhere for Dean, called everyone he knew, tried location spells, auguries, psychics. Nothing had come of his efforts. It was like Dean had simply vanished. Then Ruby had appeared and, even fucked up like he was, Sam knew something was off about her. But he couldn’t concentrate on the snide-talking tiny demoness when she’d intercepted him at a crossroad when he’d gone to bury the trinkets to call a different kind of demon, one he could make a contract with to get his brother back from…wherever.
“You don’t need to do that, Sam,” she’d insisted, coming absurdly close to the distraught, drunk hunter. “Let me help you instead, okay?”
“Look, I don’t know where your brother is, but I’ll help you find him, I promise. And,” she lowered her voice as if in the middle of Iowa surrounded by thousands of acres of corn, someone might hear them, “I’ll show you a better way to deal with demons in the meantime.”
After he’d shot her, she knocked him out, took his trinket box, and he woke up in the Impala, alone. Eight hundred miles later, she was waiting by the car when he came out of a Gas-N-Sip bathroom, and she continued to show up with more and more regularity in the following months. She never got him closer to wherever Dean was, but she assured him he was still alive and brought him demons who confirmed it as they died, Sam’s ability to exorcise them getting better and better under Ruby’s tutelage, and with the help of her blood.
He knew it was wrong, feeding on her, drinking her blood, getting so fucking high from it, feeling so powerful, but she was right. He could now save people instead of killing them when they were possessed. Usually. Sometimes he screwed up and the human host died anyway, but his track record was improving, and though he knew Dean would not approve of his new method, Dean wasn’t here. Dean had disappeared off the face of the fucking planet for all he knew. If Ruby hadn’t been around to assure him his brother was alive, there was a good chance he wouldn’t be, either. Without Dean, there wasn’t much of Sam worth keeping alive. At least that’s the way Sam felt.
Ruby felt differently. She told Sam he was special, and strong, unique, and she wanted to prove it to him. She promised he wouldn’t always need the extra kick of her blood to extract the demons, but it would take time and training. But it was addictive. When she wasn’t around, when she decided to disappear on him too, there was no ignoring the need. The itch under his skin, the crawling of his scalp, the flashes of violence behind his eyes. He drank beer, he worked out, he drove to the middle of nowhere and screamed at the sky, screamed at Ruby, at Dean. And Ruby would always come eventually, and she always gave him what he wanted. Sometimes only a taste, enough to take the edge off, and he thanked her. Other times she laid a vein open for him and those times where a blur of ecstasy and power, and he’d started fucking her then, somehow finding that more repugnant than drinking her blood, but there was no one else.
Sam scared people, he knew that. Since Dean had disappeared, he’d changed. Slowly at first, but months into the loneliness, months into training with Ruby and her blood in his mouth, when he got near civilians they shied away from him. Always the gentle giant before, the calm and caring one, there was something feral about him now and people seemed to sense it, and cowered. So he kept to himself, taking only the most extreme cases of possession, with Ruby right at his shoulder, guiding, helping, giving. Encouraging him.
“When we find your brother, you’ll be able to just take him, Sam. Nothing will be able to stop you!”
That was weeks ago.
When she called tonight, babbling excitedly and instructing him to meet her in Rochester, New York, Sam was at the end of his rope. The last exorcism and the amount of her blood it had taken him to extract the demon had both been too much for him. Left him feverish and shaking, needing more or needing to quit. Planning on quitting this time, determined to tell the little dark-eyed bitch to go right the fuck back to Hell. He was already poisoned with demon blood, had been since he was a baby. There was nothing he could do about that, but being a junkie for it was just going to distract him in the long run. He didn’t have time wait around for her to give him his fix. He’d get clean and start over, and bring his brother back his way.
But she’d found Dean.
“Help with what?” He thumbed over her throat before clamping down, pissed off she confused him, that he wanted to trust her.
“To kill a demon,” she gasped when he released her enough to talk.
“I thought that was the whole point of me doing all this,” he scoffed, iron inside her, pinning her down like a moth spread out beneath him.
“No, god, stupid. Whatever it takes. Kill the host, whoever she jumps into. She’s dangerous. Powerful. She’s important,” Ruby spit, and then couldn’t say anything for a long time as Sam used her breasts to hold himself up, smashing her down.
Whatever it took, Sam agreed to do. Ruby wouldn’t tell him much more, claiming the less he knew the safer he was for now, and encouraged him to concentrate on getting Dean.