Title: Catch Me When I Fall
Fandom: Supernatural/ BTVS/ATS (it's not a crossover per se but I will borrow the mythology from M.E. and mention some characters)
Rating: T
Setting: Post Season 3 episode 9
Characters: Dean, Ruby & Sam
Pairings: Hint of Dean & Ruby
Word Count: 3,136
A/N: In my world Katie Cassidy's Ruby is the real Ruby and Genevieve Cortese's Ruby is a demon impersonating real Ruby, it's the only thing that makes sense!
Oh and I checked Katie Cassidy's eye-color on Wikipedia, its green. I think they look blue-green or basically do that thing that SMG's eyes do where depending on the color of clothing and lighting in a scene they look different. Or maybe it depends on what you've been smoking, I dunno.
Dean walked back up to the motel room door, his hand shaking violently as he reached for the doorknob. Ruby's words kept echoing in his head, "Agonies you can't even imagine… the answer is yes by the way, yes, the same thing is gonna happen to you…It might take centuries but sooner or later, Hell will burn away your humanity…you can count on it."
Falling to his knees, the shaking wracked his whole body, overriding that stubborn streak that had gotten him through and out of more jams than common sense or physical strength alone ever could.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't go back in there and face Sammy when the stoic façade Ruby had commented on was crumbling with every shudder of his body. Through the flimsy motel room door Dean heard Sam moving around and automatically he was back on his feet.
With an urgency borne of desperation, Dean strode away from the room at the Conquistador Motel that currently housed all of his biggest hopes and fears in the 6ft 4' body of his baby brother.
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The bar he found was a good thirty minutes walk from the Conquistador, it was smoky and played mullet rock, it looked like a hundred other bars he had been in but oddly he knew that he would remember the place centuries after Hell had burned all the humanity out of him. Dean fought the chill that thought brought.
Absently his palms stroked the bar; the scarred, stained and pitted wooden surface felt unusually real under his calloused fingertips while Metallica's 'Nothing Else Matters' blasted out of the surprisingly expensive sound system. Dean slammed back his third double shot in as many minutes and savored the bitter kick of the alcohol as it swirled in his mouth and rushed past his tongue. He smiled inwardly; the burning trail it blazed down his gullet was comfortingly familiar in a world where nothing made sense anymore.
All these years he had never questioned what made a demon a demon, or what motivated them to be evil. He had always looked at them as a bunch of loony body-snatching creatures that belonged to a crazy cult where they worshiped the Devil just to be contrary. Now he had to face the fact that they all were people once, flesh and blood human like him that had made mistakes. Like he had… it just didn't seem fair. His whole life he had fought demons, fought evil in whatever form it took and his reward was to join that very same club and become just like the things he had spent his life hunting. His heart rate accelerated and he felt his palms start to sweat.
Dean gestured for the bar-tender to top up all three of his shot glasses. The grey haired David Carradine look-alike raised an eyebrow but silently obliged him. Dean nodded his thanks and reaching in his pocket, tossed a hundred dollar bill on the counter then swivelled round on the bar-stool so he could people-watch. It was such a sentimental Sammy thing to do but now that he knew a little more about what awaited him in the afterlife he decided it was about time he stopped and smelled the roses.
There was a pool table and a Jukebox; there were also half a dozen tables and two booths. In total Dean counted 16 people, two guys were playing pool and there was what he assumed was a hooker and a john playing tonsil hockey in the darkest lit booth. He winced inwardly when he watched the hooker lift the john's wallet and hand it to an oily Joe Pesci look-alike who could only be her pimp. Turning back round to face his drinks he held up his shot glass to an imaginary friend and proceeded to down it. His fingers reached out for the second glass when he noticed his cell phone flashing, looking down at the display he saw Sammy's name. Sighing inwardly he picked it up and answered.
"Dean! Where the Hell are you, I've been calling you for the last hour!"
'Nice word choice there, but I'm not in Hell yet Sammy boy and I doubt Sprint's got coverage in the pit.' He thought darkly.
"Sorry, it was on silent… I'm at a bar Sammy," Dean replied with a trademark smirk in his voice.
Sam let out a frustrated sigh on the other end, "I thought something had happened to you."
Dean rolled his eyes then remembered his new decision to appreciate the smaller things, like the fact that he had a little brother that cared about his well-being.
"Well something might happen to me, if you stop calling me!"
"Dean-"
"Sorry 'bout the silence kiddo… I'll be back soon, now I gotta go 'cause there's a hot girl giving me the eyes also known as big hooters which are staring right at me Sammy."
"Dean!"
"The eyes, Sammy! The eyes!"
"Dean wait-" Sam started to protest but Dean had already hung up.
Slipping his phone into his left pocket Dean downed the remaining two shots then rose stiffly from the stool. His muscles were protesting from his earlier encounter with a wall and a demon wielding that invisible rack treatment the ones they had been fighting lately seemed so skilled at using. His bladder was pressing down on him in an uncomfortably full way, damn if that ass-tasting liquid Ruby had given him wasn't making him pee like an old man. Bitch probably did it on purpose!
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Ruby strode into the smoky bar with her usual confidence; it was her second time visiting the place tonight. The first time she had been here, was after she had had to save the Winchester boys and she had finished cleaning up the mess they had made in the witch's house. Rubbing the spot on her forehead where her former demon mistress Catriona had clubbed her with the fire-iron absently she tried to forget the humiliation she had felt as the demon spilled her most embarrassing secrets.
Sitting down at the bar she ordered a bottle of Jameson whisky. The bartender smiled at her in greeting and slid the bottle over to her. Ruby reached into her back jean pocket and threw a hundred dollar bill on the bar. She sniffed the air and groaned inwardly, she swore she could smell Dean Winchester's soul on her. A cursory look around told her it was probably in her head, she had showered after her exchange with Dean in the Conquistador Motel parking lot. She had also changed her clothes, donning black jeans and a black turtleneck under her trademark leather jacket. Raising her hands to her face she sniffed them and swore his scent was radiating from her palms. Ruby scowled, she had come here to forget about the disturbing older Winchester brother and his powerful but conflicted little brother. She had also come here to forget about Catriona, their complicated past together and of course, her millennium-long stint in Hell.
Picking up her shot glass and whisky bottle, Ruby scanned the room and settled on the booth in the darkest corner. A hooker and her john got up to leave making Ruby sigh in relief; she really was not in the mood for another altercation tonight. Sitting with her back to the bar, but the entrance still in her periphery, Ruby uncapped the Jameson and poured herself a healthy three fingers. She raised her glass to Catriona and all her other compatriots in Hell then downed it. The next three fingers she poured she toasted the Winchester brothers then downed that too.
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Dean reclaimed his stool at the bar and ordered a beer; his head was now fuzzy enough to drown Ruby's voice from ricocheting against all the walls he had built to keep his fears at bay. He rubbed his hands on the bar top and mused how much it resembled him. It may have splinters sticking out here and there, cigarette burns, undecipherable stains and scars but it was sturdy, dependable and kind of smooth to the touch.
Wow, he was slipping in his old age since when did a few double shots make him this whimsical drunk? The bartender did something all experienced bartenders did; reading Dean's mind he opened a bag of peanuts he poured them into a clean bowl and set them next to the ice cold beer. The younger man beamed with pleasure and picking up the bowl and the beer, he rose from the stool, deciding to relax in a booth before he went back to join Sammy for yet another worry-filled sleepless night.
A short guy with a barrel chest was talking to someone in the booth the hooker had been in before Dean went to the men's room. Dean slowed down a little to hear the exchange, curiosity piqued as to what kind of female that wasn't turning tricks would be foolish enough to sit in the booth on her own in a bar like this at a time like this. He couldn't see her from where he was standing.
"Listen Barbie, all's I'm saying is, you're too pretty to be drinking a whole bottle of whisky on your lonesome, when Big Al, that's me… would be more than happy to keep you company."
Ruby clenched her jaw, and glared at the unwelcome suitor, "Big Al… that's ironic. Unless you're from Midgetville?"
Dean felt blades of fear skitter down his spine, the woman sounded familiar, and not in the good, hey I am so happy to see you here, kind of way.
"Now ain't no need for you to get testy cutie-"
"Look Big Al… I've got a rap sheet the size of Texas, I just got out of the slammer today and I just wanna have a drink on my own. Go away, please." Ruby snapped impatiently.
Her lie only served to interest him more and Big Al slid into the booth next to Ruby.
"Female ex-cons are hot and pretty freaky, fresh outta the clinker and all. What say you we blow this joint and I remind you why a stick-shift is better than manual Convict Barbie?"
Before Ruby could wrap her hand around his throat, Big Al was bodily lifted out of the booth by, Dean! What the Hell was he doing here?!
"Sorry Big Al, but no means no and as for you Ruby its hours past your curfew!" Dean exclaimed cheerfully as he tossed the short man out of his way and slid onto the bench across from Ruby.
"Who the fuck are you?" Big Al asked angrily.
Dean didn't even bother taking his eyes off Ruby, "Her parole officer."
Big Al stared at Dean in shock and was about to say something when Ruby turned to him, her eyes went black and the lights and music in the bar flickered. With a startled gasp Big Al stumbled away from the booth and beat a hasty retreat out of the bar. Dean chuckled and turned to face Ruby.
"Now look what you did, you drove away the only friend you have. Didn't your mother ever teach you to play nice?"
Eyes back to blue-green Ruby glared at him mutely.
"So what's this? You're not satisfied with stalking my brother you gotta stalk me too now?"
"Funny I was about to ask you if you were stalking me but you didn't see you come in when Big Al started hitting on me so I'm guessing you were taking a leak when I got here."
Dean frowned, all traces of humor gone, "Speaking of piss, I seem to be doing that a whole lot more often since you poured that potion down my throat."
Ruby rolled her eyes, "Easy Shortbus, you think you'd be magically cured with no side effects?"
"Funny how you didn't mention that when you weren't giving me a choice to drink it."
Ruby poured herself a drink and slammed the bottle on the table.
"What? You afraid my little potion'll make you check out early?"
Dean clenched his jaw and his fists, "No just reminding myself and you…that I know demons lie, it's not your fault I guess, comes with territory."
Ruby downed her drink and slid the whisky tumbler across the table; Dean caught it without taking his eyes off her.
"Well I didn't lie about Hell… and as for the potion, relax. Some of the ingredients act as a diuretic, I'll give Sam the recipe and he can tell you all about them if it makes you feel better."
Dean's lips stretched in a brittle smile, "Much obliged Barbie... and as for the Hell thing, I guess I'll find out soon enough."
He raised the glass in a mocking toast to her then downed its contents. Sliding it back over to Ruby, she returned the insincere smile as she poured herself another drink, the bottle was almost empty.
"It's been a rough night Jackass shut up and drink or leave me alone, I'm not in the mood."
"Oh baby, I thought demons were always in the mood." She shoved the glass at him and he gave her a sardonic lift of his brow.
"Well I'm not most demons."
Dean poured himself a shot and chuckled dryly, "I'm beginning to get that."
Ruby turned and gestured for the bartender to bring her another bottle of Jameson and two beers.
The bartender set their new bottle of whisky on the table and took away the empty one, he also set the beers down and grinned his thanks as Ruby handed him another hundred dollar bill.
Dean fought the urge to show her he was impressed. She gave him a half smile and shrugged.
Raising her beer bottle she tipped in his direction, "Bottoms up."
Wordlessly he raised his bottle and tipped it at her before drinking down half its contents in one long swallow.
Creedence Clearwater Revival's, 'House of the Rising Sun' filtered through the expensive sound system as the hunter and the demon silently opened the new bottle of Jameson.
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"So-"
"I don't wanna talk about it." Ruby cut him off sharply.
They were the last people in the bar and the bartender was piling chairs on table-tops signalling the end of their silent sojourn in the booth.
Dean smiled at her drunkenly, "How'd you know what I was going to ask? Don't tell me mind-reading is one of your talents." He said 'talents' like it was an insult.
"Please, you're not exactly an enigma by any stretch of the imagination." Ruby snorted.
"Wow, not even half a bottle of Jameson can mellow you out, you're a cold hard-"
"If you say the word bitch again I'll knock you flat on your ass."
"Again as in ever again or just tonight?" Dean asked with a cocky grin.
Ruby's eyes shot daggers.
He held up his hands in mock surrender, "Alright."
Ruby's jaw set stubbornly and she looked away. She did not find his sheepish grin endearing!
The intense heat of his gaze on her made her look back at him despite her valiant efforts not to. Her vision was a little blurry from the alcohol, but she could swear he looked softer, younger and more relaxed around her now. Ruby felt emotions she had done her best to smother since she'd gone to Hell all those centuries ago stir dangerously inside her.
With a sigh she answered the question Dean had been about to ask, "Her name was Catriona, when I sold my soul to her I thought she was Morrigan, a Celtic Goddess."
After a long expectant pause she continued, "And she was from Ireland… like me… hence the Jameson."
Dean's bleary eyes lit up, he opened his mouth to say something but Ruby held her hand up and slid out of the booth.
"I'm not telling you my real name, it doesn't matter anymore…I've gotta visit the little girl's room and then we've gotta go."
Without giving him a chance to respond, she sashayed off to the toilets. Dean watched her hips swing in the black jeans she was wearing then gave himself a mental bitch-slap. The body may be human but the person wearing it wasn't. Ruby was evil and a demon. That used to be human. Like him. Dean started to feel sick. Lurching unsteadily to his feet, Dean went to use the men's room. When he walked out he noticed the door to the women's toilets was ajar and both stalls were empty.
Walking back into the bar, Ruby was nowhere in sight but Sam was, and his expression was a combination of relief and irritation. Dean smiled at the sight of his little brother, walking up to the taller man and clapping him behind the back.
"You're too late for the party Sammy, bar's closed!"
Sam gritted his teeth, "I know Dean, now come on let's get back to the motel."
Dean beamed at the bartender and pointed at Sam, "This is my little brother Sammy, its short for Samantha."
Sam made a sound in the back of his throat as he half dragged half propelled Dean out the door.
"Sorry about that Joe and thank you." Sam said over his shoulder.
"Who's Joe?" Dean asked as Sam led him to the Impala.
"The bartender Dean, you spend half the night in his bar and you don't bother to find out his name?"
Dean frowned at Sam's impatient tone, "No, I wasn't in the mood for conversation."
Sam pushed Dean into the passenger seat and slammed the door before walking round to the driver's side.
"Yeah you were in the mood for girls as usual… Joe says the blonde you were with skipped out on you while you were taking a leak though, so the ole Dean Charm isn't what it used to be huh?"
Dean frowned at the dashboard as Sam started the car and pulled away from the curb. He had momentarily forgotten about Ruby and her promises of the pain and evisceration waiting for him on his one-way, non-changeable and non-refundable trip to Hell. He had also forgotten about how for two mostly silent hours tonight, in a dark booth of Joe's smoky bar, Dean Winchester had felt closer to her than to anyone else on Earth.
The need to tell Sam what he had learned bubbled up inside him but one look at his brother's profile changed Dean's mind. The kid had enough on his mind after what they had gone through at the witch's house. Dean could keep Ruby's information to himself for a little longer. After all, future transformation into demon or not, he was still Sammy's big brother. And for now, still human.
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It's my first SPN fic so please don't flame, constructive criticism is more than welcome though!
This fic was inspired by my recent re-watch of Season 3. To me, Katie Cassidy's Ruby was way more interesting than Genevieve Cortese's. It's funny how I just did not like her Ruby whereas Season 3 Ruby was cool for me. Oh and let's face it KC and JA had amazing chemistry in whatever scene they did together.
If y'all think this was okay, I can continue this. It won't be long but I think I can write a Ffew more chapters equal in length. And I would love the services of a critical but nurturing BETA! *hint hint*