Another little ficlet that wouldn't go away. Set kinda into season 3 I guess. Some spoilage and alternate universe. Half Drabble, half tag for Bedtime Stories. The crossroad demon scene with Sammy just wasn't angsty enough!!!

Kripke owns Supernatural, blah, blah….

Sam stared at the brunette, raised the colt a little higher till it was nearer her heart.

"You'll be free, Sam. Once he's gone, you'll not need to take orders from him and his broken psyche." Paused, while she glanced down at the gun, noting the tiny waver in it.

Contempt dripped from her words as she surveyed their supposed leader with disdain.

"No more needy, approval seeking, pathetic Dean…. your words not mine" she taunted slyly, grinning as recognition flashed in Sam's eyes. Watched as they hardened, glitter caught them in the moonlight as hurt, anger and something else flitted across his chiselled face. Saw the jaw become square, the muscle jump and knew she'd hit the spot. She stepped back to avoid any rebound and slowly circled as she continued her own agenda.

"You've no idea, have you Sam? How much a soul like Dean's is worth? Even after everything he's gone through- loosing Mommy and Dad too? John was different before. Dean remembers him different. Before." She stated it knowingly, watched with satisfaction as Sam gulped, Adam's apple giving him away.

"Everyone he's ever loved has left him. You know that's his biggest fear, but it didn't stop you taking off for school, did it Sammy? And you called him selfish?" She snorted derisively. "Like father, like son. Huh? Your Daddy took off first chance he got, too didn't he?"

Sam tried to breathe. This wasn't what he'd expected from the Crossroad Demon. Knew she was sassy and smart, Dean said as much. But this? Things were spinning out from his grasp, out of control. Guilt flared in him at the truth of her words. How did she know? How did the Demons always seem to know what was trapped inside, trying to be denied.

"And let's not forget John's school of tough love for a childhood" she continued, scorn scraping her words, making them cut like acid in the frigid air. Sensing the upper hand she pressed for advantage.

"Ahh, let's see, what else. Oh yeah, he died. Twice. No wait, actually three times. Once while you at Stanford but Dean and Johnny didn't tell you. Knew you'd just play the blame game, like your Daddy always did so well." Contempt cranked up on the last sentence as she flicked her hand dismissively at him.

"Yeah, Dean's always saving your sorry ass and how did you thank him?" She tilted her head, twisting her smirk as she shook it, as if in disbelief. "You shot him. Twice. But who's counting?" Paused. Let the words cut a little more.

"No wonder he's broken," she said it softly, imploringly, whispered so quiet, Sam almost missed it. Almost.

She softened as she turned to face him again. Moved closer. Ignored the restored Colt resting on her chest. Close enough to kiss. She stared up into Sam's eyes. Dark eyelashes curved, framing the hazel almond eyes that hid the demon beneath. Tried to will him to understand.

"None of that matters though. Not to Dean," she sounded almost wistful. "He still gives you everything. Gave your Daddy everything." Paused, eyes languidly blinked, almost longingly, as she took in Sam's face. Watched as he tried to reconcile her words and his feelings. Saddened when she noted the war inside him.

"He still loves. Without question." She continued, her voice in awe.

"He still sacrifices. All that he is. Everything. For you," She said it simply. Absolutely. The facts as she saw them.

Although you could tell that that was something she couldn't understand, quite comprehend even.

"There aren't many like Dean around nowadays, Sam. I've been waiting along time. And that makes his soul more precious than you can imagine." Precious. She said it with love.

So precious she had risked her boss's wrath in making this particular deal in the first place. Breaking one of their few rules, she would be banished to a lower level of Hell if this didn't pan out in His favour. So precious she had to risk Sam's wrath here and now, in order to get her hands on Dean's Soul in 8 months time.

He was silent now. Considering. Managed to push back the guilt, while trying to figure out how to push her away, and the truths she held up to him. Tried to work out how to play this. Just like his Dad would have. He was his fathers' son after all.

He blinked and drew back from her, making a little space, away from her overpowering sensuality. As much an assault on his senses as her words were on his psyche. She was beautiful, but deadly and smart. Breathing space needed, stall for time, think damn it! He projected the thought, unsure if she was able to read his mind or not. She certainly seemed to know a great deal about the Winchesters.

"The way he tells it you didn't even want him!?" Sam spat it at her, making out like he was struggling with the concept.

"A little bluffing never hurt any deal. You should know that more than anyone, Sam." She smiled again, but her tone was anything but friendly.

"Dean is my ticket out of Hell, Sam. And you are not getting him back!!" She whispered it vehemently. "You don't deserve him back". She almost screeched it such was the bitterness inside her at his treatment.

Sam shook his head back at her, his own smirk growing across his face, incredulous at the thought.

"And you think you deserve him? You're an evil, life sucking, manipulative Demon bitch that destroys people lives and takes them to Hell!!" He roared at her, unleashing some of the fury held onto for so long.

"And what do you think you are Sam!?" she shouted back. Eyes flared red as her anger and frustration grew. She was so close to her goal, she couldn't blow it now. "Do you think I brought you back the same, or did you ask yourself why I added a little extra to the mix on the return trip? Huh? Why do you think I brought you back at all? You're supposed to be smart, figure it out, College Boy!" Sam visibly flinched at Dean's affectionate term used so harshly against him.

She wondered if he had all the pieces of the puzzle yet. Saw by the confused look that perhaps not, decided to elaborate a little.

"You think Demons are all the same, Sam?" she accused, almost haughtily as she strolled away from him, daring him to shoot her in the back. The Colt appeared forgotten, loose in his hand at his side. "Evil? Ruby corrected you already on that." She tutted like a she was chastising a child, which, she kinda was, when she thought about it.

"Do you think I like my job Sam? Like you just looovvvve hunting sooo much," Heavy on the sarcasm. She sighed, knew that approach was a poor one he wouldn't buy. She paused, turned again to face him from a little way off, and settled for the truth. "We all do our jobs, Sam, just like you. And not all of us like it." Her voice almost broke, betraying her. It felt good to be able to admit that to someone, anyone. She was almost past caring now after so long being tied to the crossroads gig, it had been over 200 years. "After a while, you start looking for a way out, just like you did," she admitted softly.

Realisation dawned in Sam's eyes; a slow spreading horror crept over his handsome features as he followed her breadcrumbs.

"You're gonna sell Dean's Soul to get a… a promotion? A better job in the organisation of Hell incorporated?! God, you're unbelievable!!" He almost stuttered in disbelief. Shock. Disgust at the revelation. Then fear. Fear of what it would mean for…

"What will happen to Dean?" He had to ask, had to know. Was there a fate worse than Hell? Gut wrenching fear and dread clenched his heart at the thought.

"Oh, don't worry Sweetie, a soul as precious as Dean's will be well looked after by whoever buys it, I can guarantee you that." She nodded assuredly "Dean will be appreciated more after death, than he ever was with you, or your Dad." She stated it with conviction, knowing it was the truth.

"No, I think you should be more concerned about where you are going to end up, Sam. My "promotion" as you call it, out of Hell, will leave a position requiring to be filled, and I think my replacement is looking in excellent shape," She paused to slowly look Sam up and down appreciatively. Saw the beginning of understanding in his dark eyes.

"Where do you think Demons come from, Sam? Did you think we just sprang up from the ether?!" She looked at him, sad, misunderstood, and angry at his ignorance. She took a deep breath, tried to explain more clearly.

"The old ones-the most powerful, some of them were fallen Angels, disavowed for their beliefs, others were residuals. From an evil before the time of humans and time itself…. and the lesser ones" she paused to indicate herself, "We were just people, Sam. Originally. Some were sought out, recruited for their abhorrent nature, some were sentenced to it, deserving of their actions during life, and others were tricked or coerced into the job. Some were just people in the wrong place at the wrong time." She concluded sadly, pleading with him to comprehend their situation. "Which one are you gonna be, Sam? You can't stop it, its already happening and you know it."

"No, No…. NO that's impossible. I'll never join you. This is not happening. I won't ALLOW it to happen!" Sam retorted, anger sweeping through him with the horrifying future she had outlined. He glanced back once at her as he turned, as if to stalk away.

Bang. The shot echoed around the desert night.

The Colt jumped in Sam's hand as the recoil jarred him back.

The brunette lay on the stony ground. Blood and sparks still emanated from her body. The tiny hole in her forehead the only thing marring her beautiful face.

Sam reined in his temper and breathed deeply. Tried to still his shaking hands. He hadn't meant to kill her yet. He wondered if that was a sign of what was coming: If her grim predictions could come true. Demons lie, he told himself. He didn't feel the slightest bit different from before. He was fine.

He shuddered at the encounter and vowed to keep it to himself for now, no point in worrying Dean unnecessarily, he lied to himself. He climbed into the Impala and tore up the road to escape, as if the very hounds of hell were after him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Lucifer had watched the encounter with growing pleasure at the turn of events he had so carefully orchestrated. Sam's decent to his doorway was coming along on schedule. He would make a fantastic successor when he himself retired.

"Great work, Sweetie," he congratulated the tall brunette as she joined him, watching the red taillights disappear into the distance. Her eyes flashed red with anticipation.

"You'll get your ticket out of here when the time comes, a deals a deal and it looks like you'll deliver on this one. You'll be free to go when I have Sam." The demon's word was good. They were all bound by their word, unlike the humans around them.

The brunette smiled genuinely for once as she rubbed at the rapidly disappearing hole in her forehead. "Thank you, Sir. That Colt sure hurt though," she complained ruefully.

"Yes. Can't be helped unfortunately," he replied sadly. "Ruby's modification does entail a little pain, if only to make it look real. It is fortunate for us that the Colt's power has been curtailed so as to only incapacitate demons, rather than destroy them, or else the war would already be over for all of us. So long as the Boys don't find out, the plan should continue on schedule, and I can get my retirement sorted."

The end