A/N:: I actually wrote this a few months ago, and completely forgot about it. I came across it when cleaning out my old folders and simply had to post it. I might add more later, but I'm not entirely sure. It's killing me that I haven't seen hardly any of Season 9. D:

Disclaimer:: They're Kripke's toys. I just like to play with 'em.

Warnings: Allusions to sex and a bit of graphic stuff. Nothing overly bad though.

Sam lounges out on the motheaten sofa, his enormous frame dominating and exceeding the cushions, old things stained with God only knows what. His eyes, cold and dark as they have become lately, remain fixed on the ceiling, studying it as if it were a work of art. He's not as oblivious as she seems to think he is - he's noticed her eyes on him for the past hour or so, looking almost concerned. He smirks at the thought of a demon being concerned about him, because even if Ruby is different, she's not exactly the type to be concerned about anyone's well being, even his. He shifts the whiskey into his other hand and takes a gulp, relishing the sting as it burns down his throat.

* * * * *

"Come on Sam, you idjit. You need to-"

"I said 'no' Bobby! You want to charge into a vamp nest, then go ahead. I'm not going."

"Sam-"

"Look, if you want me to leave, I'll leave."

"That's not what I... We just lost Dean, and Sam it's feeling an awful lot like I'm losing you too... You're breaking my heart, kid."

"I'm sorry Bobby.. I just can't."

* * * * *

The whiskey's gone now, and Sam's somewhere between awareness and unconsciousness, if somewhat closer to the latter. He still feel's Ruby's eyes on him, but he won't give her the satisfaction of looking her in the face. He grits his teeth to bite back a comment he know's he'll pay for and switches his gaze to a bare patch of wall across the room. Ruby speaks first, fixing him with a stern look that only makes him roll his eyes in a way that would make a teenage girl jealous.

"Sam, you are not okay." The words are calm, even, but true, and even if he won't admit, he knows it too. Instead, he stands, almost falling over in the process, and turns his back on her.

"I'm fine."

* * * * *

"I'm fine Bobby."

"No you aren't Sam.

"I said it before, if you want me to go, I will."

"..."

"You want me to go?"

"..."

"Alright then, I'll be gone by tonight."

* * * * *

"Whatever you say then tough guy, but no matter how many times you say it, A, it's not true. And B, I'm not leaving." Ruby snaps from behind him, clearly not amused or at all impressed by his insistence that he's okay. She knows better, and she's pretty sure he knows better two, but he won't admit it, because he's like his brother. Something else he won't admit to. They're both so prideful, they won't accept help when it's being handed to them on a silver platter.

"I'm fine." Sam repeats, as if saying it over and over will make it true. It plays on repeat in his head, a mantra he wills into reality. It should startle the living hell out of him that the lie slid off his tongue so easily, but actually it's quite the opposite. He's a bit proud of the fact that he can lie so effectively. Anyone who didn't know him and who he was before.. Well, they wouldn't know how horribly wrong everything is with him. They might think him a little twisted, true, but not really as much in turmoil as he really is. How it feels like he's completely alone in the world. How everything fell apart right before him. Like his brother isn't burning in hell for saving him, like he's not in a hell of his own. "I'm fine." He whispers, to himself this time. Another repetition, but it's still not true.

* * * * *

"You haven't been answering your phone."

"I've been busy Bobby."

"Well, could you do me a favor and not wait a month and a half next time!"

"I said I'm sorry, what more do you want?!"

"Maybe for you to get your head straight! You're gettin' to be a special kind of dark Sam."

"..."

"Yeah, I've heard things from a few other hunters. Killin' without thought, stitchin' up your wounds like they belong to somebody else, denying any and all help."

"..."

"I'm worried about you Sam."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"..."

"Sam?"

"..."

"Sam!?"

"Goodbye Bobby."

* * * * *

He's not quite sure how it got to this, because she's kneeling in front of him, and he's not pushing her away. And then she's kissing him, and it's unlike anything he's ever felt before. It's teeth and force and aggression, which, he kind of thinks is perfect for him now, for who he's become, for what he's become. He's pretty certain he's not a 'who' anymore. Hasn't been for awhile now.

And then she's pinned beneath him on the sofa, and he's not entirely certain when it advanced this far, but he's not letting her up, because he can take it out on her. Or at least that's what his drunken, fucked up, demented mind is telling him. She's not human, she's not a person, so it's okay.

It's okay when his teeth sink into every bit of her skin he can reach. (She hisses and laughs every time he does it, so it can't hurt too bad.)

It's okay when she returns the favor, sharp teeth digging into his collarbone, his shoulder, his neck. (He throws his own head back and groans, and he knows full well he's going to have marks in the morning.)

It's okay when they force their mouths together and taste each others blood on their lips. (His stomach doesn't rebel against the taste of metal on his tongue - it's rather the opposite. He doesn't know why.)

And it's okay when, after it's over, he drops nearly his full weight on her and almost passes out. (She's a demon. It's not like she'll suffocate.)

"It's okay Sam," she whispers to him as he falls asleep, already bracing himself for the bloody nightmares he knows are coming, "It's all okay."

His last thought before dropping off, is that maybe he's always been this fucking crazy, because as wrong as this is, he can't bring himself to regret it.

So... I think that was some nice insight into the wonderful world that is my brain. Anyway, reviews and PMs are always welcome, and if you took the time to read this, I thank you so very much.