A/N I wanted to thank Ainaof for her latest review in "101 Ways Ruby Must Die" which gave me the final kick I needed to write this story.
My Co-Toxin
"Sam? Saam? Saaaammm!"
Her footsteps clonked from the front door. He didn't want her around. He didn't want her to invade his privacy while he mourned for his brother.
"Sam!"
Motel rooms were never large enough. There wasn't enough space on the planet between him and the rest of the universe. Why the hell was he still alive?
"Oh, God, Sam. What the hell?"
Bitch. The cold bathroom floor wasn't cold enough, hard enough, painful enough to assuage his guilt complex or sooth the heart-wrenching agony. Her long bony hands lay over his head. Disgust melted into anger. "Go away," Sam's voice barely reached audio levels. His body, a heap of lifeless flesh, pricked with chills.
"Oh. So this is how you're going to honor Dean's death. I see. You plan to just waste away into nothing-and waste his sacrifice. That's just great, Sam. Really. I'll chalk you up as another worthless statistic."
Ruby breached the prohibitive mention of Dean's name. Tears strangled his breath. Anger smoldered on the kindling of hopelessness. Blind in grief, Sam pushed himself up and rammed headfirst into Ruby's midriff. They landed outside the bathroom. Unaffected by pain, the demonic female merely huffed with a loss of wind. Sam rolled off her and attempted a stagger to his feet. Dead inside, loss of appetite, lost... lost, Sam crumbled to his knees. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move.
Ruby rolled to her side and stared at the tattered thing that represented Sam Winchester. "You can't die like this, Sam," she said softly.
He couldn't suppress his sorrow any longer. His heart gushed agonizing grief and tears ripped in screams. Sam heaved in air and his lungs deflated as if to vomit his soul on the carpet. "I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO LIVE!" he screamed. His body convulsed with each surge and wave of breath. Tears soaked his face.
"Let me help you, Sam! You need help!"
"Get away! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Sam died. He died each time he lost Dean, died when Dean ended in Hell. He died yesterday and died in the bathroom and died again. Nothing. Nothing.
Everyone died around him. Orphaned, widowed... brotherless. He'd die in as pathetic a state as his worthless, cursed life. Every minute of every day Sam lived with the vision of his brother, hacked to pieces, burning, screaming for release and never, never will he have a moment's rest, no happiness. Eventually Dean would forget his own name, who he loved or why he went to Hell. Only pain and anguish accompanied Dean.
Sam curled inward more tightly, unable to breathe, praying for total nonexistence. Words left him. His consciousness ebbed with time and tears. Grief eroded his strength. Exhaustion tugged him into sleep.
The distant pounding of a demon's hammer roused Sam from a deep and dreamless sleep. His tight, dry face hurt. Dry swollen lips parted and he drew air into a dry, salty mouth.
A voice beckoned Sam's attention. He wondered if he lay there long enough, he'd simply die. It wasn't going to happen.
Dean.
Tears came back. Sam's emotional inhibitions failed like broken floodgates. Tears came as they pleased. Sam did not have the strength to move off the floor, answer the angry voice or wipe his wet and swollen face. How long had he lain there? How many days does it take for a person to die without water or food? How many days does it take to die of a broken heart?
Someone tinkered at the door. It opened with a click. Voices. Footsteps, a gasp.
"Sam?"
Ruby.
No other sounds followed Sam into the bleak darkness. Nothing but Dean's imaginary screams. Sam's chest weakly heaved. Tears escaped closed eyes.
Chills raced along his skin. Fresh air touched his face. Sam's aching head flopped toward his right shoulder. He lay flat. He supposed he finally died and now he lay on a slab of stone somewhere in hell and the demons were either going to rape him, rip his insides out or slice him into worthless chunks of meat and feed him to the hounds.
It's okay. He deserved as much. He killed everyone he loved. He should not have existed to begin with.
Bitter warm liquid touched his lips and filled his mouth. The tang of an unknown substance awakened some distant part of his mind. Sam moved his lips.
Someone praised him.
He swallowed gentle heat and it eked from the middle to his aching arms. Another mouthful poured life-inducing warmth in his weak cold legs. The liquid pressed past his lips again and leaked out the corners of his mouth. Sam's head cleared and he opened his dilated, bleary eyes.
Ruby smiled. "That's my boy." she pressed the Styrofoam cup to his lips again while he languished in her arms. "You're going to be alright, Sam. I won't leave you."
He choked with tears again. Ruby set the cup of blood on the bed stand and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm here, now, Sam. And everything is going to be just fine."
Beginning of the End.