AN: So, awhile ago, around Halloween, I wrote a story called Incoming Call and I always planned on doing more in that same universe but I never got around to posting it. Well, a few weeks back before I started Playing Matchmaker, I just sat down and cranked out some short prequels to Incoming Call. So, now I'm finally posting them.
And just to let you all know, this story is dedicated to an awesome fan (and friend) Sophia. MissyS on here. Love ya, girl! Kisses!
Title: Linger: to remain alive
Summary: A short prequel to Incoming Call. She's going to be the death of him....
Pairing: Dean/Ruby
Genre: Angst/Tragedy
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters.
Written byBecks Rylynn
Linger: to remain alive
She's going to be the death of him.
She's going to hold onto him and squeeze until he can't breathe, she's going to make him unravel; break him apart at the seams. She's going to send him burning. He should let go, he knows he should, but he can't find the strength. Sammy wants to help, Jo wants to help, Bobby wants to help. Everyone wants to help, but no one knows how. His voice has gotten lost somewhere in his throat so he can't very well tell them to fuck off, and he can't do any bodily harm to them, but he's seriously considering cutting himself off from them. Letting himself fade away until all he is to them is just a distant memory.
Like she'll be someday.
All he wants is to be left alone with his alcohol and his misery.
He thinks he's ready to go down in flames. Anything's better than this aching in his chest, in his heart.
He's losing it, he knows this. Every time he sees a flash of blond hair or a sliver of blue eyes, his heart stops, for just a second, and a part of him actually believes she's come home to him. He tries to tell himself she's not coming back, he tries to believe, he tries to move on, and he tries to be okay.
But she's still there.
In his heart.
In his blood.
Haunting him, lingering long after her body's been taken away from him. He wakes up in the morning and feels like she's still there, sleeping next to him, he smells sulfur and turns around, almost expecting to see her. He feels her touch, her soft yet rough fingers on his face, tracing over his cheek and his lips.
She's going to be the death of him, and he knows he should let her go, but he's too damn scared to be without her.
One night, he comes home to face the darkness of the empty apartment, and when he opens the door, he finds her waiting in the moonlight, waiting for him. Her hair's a mess, and he knows her shirt is ripped and bloody, even though her back's turned to him.
''Ruby...'' His voice trembles dangerously and he swallows the lump growing in his throat.
She turns around then and he sees the blood and the tears on her cheeks, and he sees the damage in her broken blue eyes. ''Where were you?'' Her voice is a mess of unshed tears and words that stab a knife right through him. She takes a stumbling, unsteady step towards him. ''I waited for you and you never came, Dean.'' A sob escapes her lips and she moves even closer, and he's too frozen to move away. ''You were supposed to come and get me.''
''I...'' He thinks he should tell her, he knows he should, but he can't bring himself to break her even more then she already is. ''I'm sorry,'' he finally whispers, and knows he's sorry for a lot more than this.
''Something happened to me,'' she says, softly, ''something bad.''
He nods and closes his eyes, silver of the knife dancing behind his eyelids. The knife goes down, into her flesh, taking her away, and he opens his eyes. She's still there and he manages a jerky nod. ''Y-Yes, baby...something...something happened.''
She crosses the distance and grips onto him tightly, and she feels so real, her tears leaking into his clothes. ''I don't remember. I don't remember anything.'' Her voice sounds panicked and delicate, and when she pulls away and meets his eyes, he sees she's fragile and ready to shatter. ''Dean, why...why can't I remember? W-What's happening to me?''
''You....'' His eyes sting and it's the worst pain imaginable. His head tells him to let her go, his heart tells him to hold on tighter. ''You were hurt, honey....'' Her eyes plead with him to lie to her and he knows he can't say no to her. ''But you're going to be okay.'' He smiles but it's fake and it doesn't reach his eyes. ''You're going to be just fine.''
She smiles through her tears and leans in closer. ''Because you're going to take care of me, right?''
He doesn't answer, he can't find his voice.
A moment passes and then she pulls away and meets his eyes. ''Right?''
And he nods, because he doesn't know what else he can do. ''Right. I-I'm going...to take care of you.''
Her smile dances on her lips again and this time, when she leans in closer, she captures his lips in hers, and he can't help but close his eyes.
When he opens his eyes, she's gone, but not really.
She's going to linger and stay with him until there's nothing left of him, until she drives him into insanity.
She's dead now.
Gone and buried and never coming back.
But she still lingers in his veins.
The next night, he comes home, opens the door and she's there, waiting for him.
He tries to avoid going home now, because she'll be there, waiting for him, begging him to tell her that she's okay, that she's alright, that he'll take care of her even though he knows he can't. He tries to avoid going home now, because he just can't take it, he can't take her anymore, because she's not real. She's not there. Not really.
But he can only avoid going home for so long. Sooner or later, the exhaustion sets in and he has to go home. And when he opens the door, it all starts again. ''Ruby...''
She turns. ''Where were you?''
He closes his eyes, and prays to make it through.
''I waited for you and you never came, Dean.''
''I know,'' he says, ''I'm sorry.''
''You were supposed to come and get me.''
He shakes his head and lets his eyes burn. ''I'm...I'm so sorry, Ruby.'' He's sorry he didn't come and get her, he's sorry she was all alone, he's sorry....he's sorry he couldn't save her. More than anything, he's sorry he couldn't save her.
''Something happened to me. Something bad.''
''Yes.''
She smiles and it's the most serene smile he's ever seen on her face. She looks so peaceful. Something's different about tonight; it's not like the others. ''I remember now,'' She whispers, and his breath catches in his throat.
That's new.
She's never remembered before.
She's not supposed to remember.
''You....'' He takes an uneven breath and steps forwards. ''You do?''
''Yes. I remember what happened that night. I remember everything.'' She wraps her arms around his neck and brings her lips inches away from his. ''I remember the man, I remember the knife, I remember dying. I remember you, Dean. The way you looked at me. Like I was everything, like I was the sun and the moon and the stars in the sky. Why don't you look at me like that anymore?''
There's pain in his green eyes when he speaks, because he knows what this is now. He knows why she remembers all of a sudden. He knows this is it. ''Because I don't have you.''
She hugs him tight and doesn't let go. He feels tears and he's not sure if there his or hers. ''I...'' She pulls away to meet his eyes and he sees something like goodbye shining in ocean blue orbs. ''I remembered, Dean. You know you have to let me go now...don't you?''
Fear thuds through his blood and veins like the deadliest poison. ''I don't know if I'm strong enough to do that.''
''You're the strongest soul I've ever known.''
''But...I...I need you.''
One hand reaches up to touch his face. ''You need to let me go.''
Let.
Me.
Go.
Three simple little words, with a meaning that's powerful enough to bring Dean Winchester crumbling. He grabs her arm when she tries to turn away and he tries to get her to stay with him. ''I need to keep you with me. I can't...I can't let you go yet. I'm not....I'm not ready.''
She shakes her head sadly, and she looks almost as devastated as him. But not quite. ''You don't really have a choice, Dean. I'm dead, I'm not here, I'm not with you. You have to let go.''
And he knows he does, knows if he doesn't, he'll slip off the edge, knows if he doesn't let her go, he won't be able to come back from the dark. But she's his everything, she means everything, how is he supposed to say goodbye. ''Ruby, you're...'' He swallows down the cries that burn his throat. ''...You're all I've ever known.''
''There are people here, Dean, in this world, who cannot lose you. You have to hold on for them. For Sam, for Jo, Bobby, little Jenna. They all need you, and if you keep doing this to yourself, if you keep waiting for me, you won't be able to come back. You have to let me go,'' she repeats, and he sees tears roll down her cheeks, and feels his own tears running down his cheeks. ''You have to.''
He nods and holds onto her tighter. ''I know.''
''I...'' She pauses and he doesn't think she'll continue, as she focuses her gaze downwards. But then she speaks, and her voice is filled with heartache and despair. ''I love you.''
''I love you too,'' he whispers and knows he means it. Slowly, he leans down and captures her lips in his one last time. He knows when he opens his eyes, she'll be gone. Gone from his blood and his veins, she won't be lingering anymore. It terrifies him.
Maybe he'll make it through.
Maybe.
But he just doesn't know.
When her lips are gone, slowly, he opens his eyes, and she's gone.
She's going to be the death of him.
But his grief is so strong that he just doesn't remember how to care.
He thinks he'll even welcome death.
He's not sure how long he stands there, but when he finally staggers into the bedroom and collapses on the bed, it's dark outside, and there's rain coming down, because the heaven's are crying with him. He closes green eyes and waits for the dreams to come, hoping she'll still linger just a little longer in his head.
She's going to be the death of him.
He just prays death will come quickly.
end