Title: Conatus
Summary: Ruby isn't who she says she is and Meg gets what she wants in the end.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I don't own them
Chapters: 1/1
Warning: Character death, possible oocness
A.N.: I'm pretty sure that by now, everyone knows what happened so I won't exactly put 'spoilers' in the summary as a warning. But just in case, if you haven't watched it and you don't want to know until you watch it, there's a nice back button to help you with that.
The timeline and the dialogue might be a little—a lot—off; it's been a while since I've seen season 3.
First SPN story, go easy on me ;p
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She wants him to suffer.
It is what convinces her to pick up a new body.
The meat suit is blonde, the girl inside long dead. She died from overdose and her little buddies dumped her on the edge of the woods. The insides of her elbows are puckered with needle marks and green with bruises. But it's still better than the Asian whore sucking a guy off for forty a mile off.
She gets up off-kilter and nauseous.
But she is walking.
It's a start.
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She lays low for a while, licking her wounds.
She picks up a red leather jacket, kind of like the one she had before and kills the security when he tries to grab her. Her mascara-lined eyelashes flutter as she follows an apple pie-and-ice cream old lady home.
She kills her and makes herself at home.
She rolls her eyes when she sees that there is no liquor anywhere, nor smoke, no weed—god how does the old windbag live?—and drains the pruned body for breakfast.
Out of curiosity she fingers the rim of the cup containing the blood. Her eyes flickering black, she scries for her father and finds him exactly where she expected him to be.
Out of spite, she swallows the entire contents before he can call her back.
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She visits the cowboy graveyard.
Not out of sentimentality of anything. Such emotions haven't been part of her since—hey, maybe it's not a good idea trying to bleed all these people to death.
Fun times, better toilet facilities now though.
She finds Azazel's body between graves, a perfectly round hole in his chest where his heart should be. She finds the hell's gate dark and looming in the center, its doors locked and closed—probably for good. She kicks the clump of dirt by her feet and caresses the pentagram keyhole as she might a lover.
Something glints in the moonlight and she grabs it, hissing when it slices her finger open. The cuts spark orange and fire. She grabs a knife by the hilt and looks at it carefully. The cut does not heal.
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She makes it just in time to save Sammy-boy's pretty little ass from three of seven retarded sins.
She slits their throat one by one, reveling in their surprised looks before turning towards Sam.
Sam, Azazel's champion
Sam, Azazel's favorite
She can see the astonishment in his eyes.
In some ways she knows the boy better than he knows himself. After all, they spent an entire week together before Dean ruined it all and it's just another thing to hate the man for even though she's the one who sought him out to taunt him in the first place.
She doesn't answer his questions. She wants to—miss me Sammy? Miss me?
But now is not the time or place.
She flashes a one last smirk at his back before disappearing.
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She lets him stew for a few days—how can he break the contract, how can he save Dean.
It's so sweet that it's borderline disgusting and she slides into the booth just to save herself the agony of interpreting his expressions.
She picks up a fry, ketchup and salt doing nothing for her dry mouth as she contemplates lacing it with cyanide while Sam isn't looking.
Her eyes flicker blue to human black and Sam shoots out of his seat so fast it's almost funny—and she tells him that she can help him save Dean.
He shakes his head.
Demons lie
Well duh Sam
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She fixes the colt.
She wants—needs—Dean to get out of his deal. After all, how was she going to make good on the promise of eternal torment if he wasn't even here?
So she fixes the damned gun even though she wants nothing more than to put a bullet in the conman's head—honestly, what was it with guys and shooting her in the stomach?
And they wonder why she likes Sam better.
Hell, if the Winchesters were good enough for her father, she figures they'll be good enough for Lilith as well.
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It's fun playing with Sam.
She wonders if this is why Dean is so damn clingy—so in love with his brother that he can't see a way get his ginormous head out of his ass.
She whispers promises, half-truths and coveted lies.
She loves how Sam laps it all up as though she might contain the world's eighth wonder on her tongue.
Dean hates her; she has no doubt about that. He would have killed her given half the chance. It is a dangerous game she's playing but at the very least, she has Sam's ears. And as hopeless as Dean is, she doesn't think he minds with his soon to be damned soul on the line... well not too much.
.
She meets Dean again in a town with a witches' coven attached to it.
It's a nostalgic time.
For a moment she actually thinks that Dean will figure her out. For a moment she actually hopes that he does and give her an excuse to tear him apart. But he doesn't and she has to rescue his sorry ass because no matter how much she wants it she can't let Dean die.
Where would the fun be in that? He simply hasn't suffered enough.
Tammi is still bitter about her defection to Azazel. Her black eyes glint like two black stones. She drops the good girl act before Tammi can spill her guts about what she really is. She pounces on her former mentor and they start to kick and fight. She's losing because hello, her body is starting to rot from the inside while Tammi's body is oh so freshly picked from the 5 to 9 suburbia.
It's not fair at all
Dean saves her inadvertently when he throws an arm around Tammi's meat suit and stabs her over and over again. Every time the knife sticks between the ribs, she sees a hellish supernova imploding beneath the woman's skin. The eldest of the Winchester brother drops his quarry after making sure that the body has ceased struggling.
Tammi's dead.
Great, now she has to clean up.
Sulfur is a bitch and a half to get out of the carpet.
In the end, she just burns the house down.
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She finds Dean wandering around the front of the motel.
Fizzling lights and dying street signs herald her arrival. He's a little slow, but he gets it. He turns around.
She figures she might as well pay her due before he tries to collect interest. They trade words; she has the whole woe-is-me act going for her. She spins a pretty tale about a girl who sold her soul to a demon. She tells him how she is different because she remembers.
Of course she remembers, how could any of them forget? The difference is that they ceased to care—and yes Dean, you will be the same.
Demons lie but when the prize is the look on Dean's face at the news of turning into something just. like. her?
Priceless
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They run around the country doing odd jobs here and there.
Nothing has changed since old yellow-eyed's death now has there?
Though, she personally loved the slaying of Mr and Mrs Santa Clause. Pagan spirits, whatever.
Sometimes they look around as though aware of being watched.
But she's never there.
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Lilith comes to her to make a deal. The boys still have the colt and with her help, they've made sure that they'll never run out of bullets again. If there's anything the white-eyed bitch fears, it's the prospect oblivion the dead amongst them have been sent to.
Now she figures that once Dean's broken by her hands she pretty much attains life's aspiration and will go quietly.
Or as quietly as she can.
Demons don't die of old age and she's too smart for the likes of Sam to catch her. Becoming more like Dean—though she's the one who said it—doesn't entail becoming heartless. But it seems Sam doesn't know his brother as well as he thinks he does.
Well more for her to play with.
"I want you to get rid of the gun for me."
The girl Lilith's wearing is adorable. Full on dimples and two bottom teeth missing.
She wonders if she can punch the rest of them out.
"Why would I do that?"
Aside from the obvious reason.
The body pouts prettily as it tugs on her retainer's hand. She doesn't see the appeal of inhabiting a child. They're pretty much useless until they grow up. Though there was this one time...
She smirks.
"Oh the Winchester boys. You like Dean don't you?" her eyes flash an eerie white, the complete opposite of her guile-stained black eyes. She cocks her head. The crown of wheat-gold curls bobbing against her cheeks. "I bet you want to make him sing."
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She sends Bela on it, whispers honey-sweet that she can have her tattered soul back if she does this one, tiny, itsy-bitsy thing.
Like stealing the colt
Bela doesn't know shit. She can't even tell one demon from the next.
The regular garden variety possess black eyes, the crossroads brethren have red eyes. Then there are the ones powerful enough to be called 'lords' that gain other spectrums of color. Lilith for example, has white eyes.
So she's either colorblind or desperately stupid but she gets the job done. The gun is hers. The boys are behind bars.
Time for a visit.
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She could have been an actor. She could have possessed any of those Hollywood starlets and none would have been the wiser.
She fakes an expression of surprise and anger. She suggests a ritual involving cutting out a virgin's heart because it's really been a long time since she's seen one and she's been too busy keeping tabs on the boys to enjoy herself much.
Not that she could really.
Body, decaying, demon healing does absolutely nothing for an empty meat puppet except lather on some extra preservatives. Point, she stinks and it isn't the blood and gore in her mouth that's doing it.
And as always Winchesters ruin her fun by insisting that they take the boring way
Once she figures that they won't be carving up the girl anytime soon, she leaves. Lilith's coming, last time she made the mistake of staying; she had her head blown off.
After the big boom she drops in on the Winchesters and relish their twin stunned expressions. She throws them a bag of grass and gravel she found outside, selling them to be demon repellents. She bids them adieu and gives Dean one last long look because the next time they meet, he is going to be screaming.
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They don't cross paths again for a long time. Not until the last 20 some lonely hours on Dean's lease.
Not that she's counting, no, never.
Sam calls her all on his own. She's proud of her little brother and proceeds to feed him bullshit about his 'latent' powers. She's almost excited to see Dean but she keeps her face blank. They exchange words, not meant for a lady's ears. But then Dean was always a rude creature.
He catches her in a devil's trap and for one rebellious moment, she wants to bounce out. They've believed her so far right? She's supposed to be 'reformed'.
But she doesn't and sneers filth at him and how she wants to see him burning in the pit.
When the boys are gone, she steps out of the pentagram with a mouthful of Latin, fresh as a morning daisy. The old conman is gone as well and she helps herself to candles and blood to summon Lilith.
A dog barks loud and she snarls back about how she's the one who killed his bastard predecessor.
Lilith comes to her in a silvery mist, vaporous and dreamy.
Up to her old tricks then
'What is it? Mommy was drawing me a bubble bath.'
"The boys are gone. They'll be there by nightfall."
'Oh good, just in time for a bedtime story!'
She rolls her eyes and gets going
.
"Sorry Dean. Wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy."
Except she totally would
Especially where Dean is concerned
Ever since she's climbed back out the only thing she's been thinking of are ways to claw that superior smirk off.
She demands her knife back. An artifact in the Winchesters' hands is one artifact too many. Plus this one can kill demons. She's getting a headache from the way Lilith's throwing a tantrum about how stupid she is for losing it in the first place.
And it must show because Dean's eyes are open wide and he has a hand on Sam shoulder.
"Sam, that's not Ruby!"
And with that Lilith takes over and slams the boys against the wall and on the table. They go up to Sam and kiss him out of memory and greetings. Despite all outer appearances Lilith was really a filthy whore. It's almost cute how Dean tries to steer their attention away from his little brother.
She opens the door, savoring the moment when the knob turns and the hell hounds burst into the room.
Dean screams as he is dragged off the table. This was almost as good, no better, than watching the Salem witch trials.
The dogs tear him apart. Blood splashes everywhere and she's laughing with glee, Lilith right behind her as Sam helplessly struggles against the wall like a bug on a stick.
Yellowed fangs gnaw at his flesh and rip open his chest. His heart his stripped, bit by bit, from inside his ribs. Dean stills to minute convulsions then chokes as his eyes stare far, far away.
Lilith grins beautiful and bright with her meat suit and lets out an exulted 'yes' before opening her palm forward.
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It doesn't work.
Sam is still alive and breathing as he blinks away the last of the blinding inferno from his eyes.
Lilith leaves her. She backs off, suddenly scared.
The cock-and-bull story can't be right, she made it all up. Lilith probably bailed at the last second because she hasn't delivered the colt yet, just made sure it was taken off the boys' hands.
She's weak now, too weak to fend her self against even little old Sammy.
But she doesn't think of it much.
She's got what she wanted and an eternity left to spare.
She leaves the body.
.
She watches him at first.
She watches him yell for help. Yell for Sammy of all people.
Oh he's desperate, lonely, now just realizing what he has committed himself to when he traded away his soul.
But he doesn't regret, she's here to rectify that.
She slides up against a chain and pulls, giggling when whimpers rise and echo around the toxic clouds. He turns his head, his face slick with sweat.
He bares his teeth in a scarlet grimace.
"Meg."