Sam groaned as he awoke, feeling his bones crack uncomfortably from the concrete hard mattress. He'd gotten used to it. Turning to his side he noticed the other half of the bed was empty, he stood up muttering that she would be back soon and hadn't run off. Still, Sam rummaged through his rucksack to find everything still in its place, including his fix. Sighing Sam lay back down, finding the ceiling very interesting. He noticed that his shirt was off, but wasn't bothered enough by the cold to try and locate it in the mass of clothes strung across the room.
According to his watch it was three in the afternoon, meaning his was up earlier than usual. He'd become practically nocturnal in the year he'd been on the road, staying up, getting high and waking up only as the sun began to set.

The motel door swung open, a brunette dressed in jeans and a simple grey vest was leaning on the door frame. A smile, which was both a mixture of smug and hunger, spread across her face as she happily stared at the half naked Winchester. She walked over; placing the coffee she arrived with on the nearest desk, and lay next to Sam. ''Aren't you cold?''

''Don't know where it is. I was preoccupied when I was taking it off'' Sam rolled on his side; he wrapped his arms around the brunette and lay his head in the curve of her neck. He breathed deeply, with both of them on the road the smell of home was the just smell of each other. The woman tried to get up but found herself unable to leave Sam's grip.

''Sam.''

Sam refused to relinquish his companion, ''Ruby.''.

Ruby turned in Sam's grasp to face him, ''We can't stay here forever, and we have to keep moving.''

''How did we get into this?'' Sam's voice was still and quiet, his eyes settled on his arm which was covered in small pin pricks. Ruby's forearm shared the same decoration.

Ruby slithered away from Sam and flashed him a smile. ''This? This is the life, baby.'' She threw him a shirt and started to pack their few belongings. ''Come on, there's a bus with our name on it.''

Sam sat up; he paused in thinking about Ruby's reaction if he told her that he'd been having second thoughts. ''Ruby...'' He cut himself off, stood up, now fully clothed, and grabbed his rucksack from the far corner of the room.
They'd be in a new town in a few days time.

''Thank you'' Sam smiled politely at the motel clerk, took the keys off the desk and headed out to find the room. He counted doors until he arrived at the right one; he swung his rucksack off his shoulder. Ruby was behind him, talking about their next fix and how they were running low. Sam would have usually listened to all this but his mind was still absent. His thoughts were on Dean and how he shouldn't have run.
Sam sighed, throwing his rucksack on the bed.

''I know what'll make you feel better.'' Ruby handed Sam a syringe, she'd already taken hers and the effects of the liquid Meth were beginning to take hold. She was dancing on the spot, without music, carefree and without worry. Sam took in the sight in front of him, his physiological headache was getting unbearable, a chance to be without pain was too good to resist. He found a spot on his arm, and let the needle slip through the skin. He barely registered the slight pain anymore.

Soon Sam's system was in the grip of the Meth. His heart was racing and his pulse was like thunder in his ears. He danced with Ruby, both embracing the drug's effects, they jumped on the bed and ran around in circles.

Later on, they argued about what colour the walls were. Sam shouted and punched holes in the paper thin plaster and Ruby lay on the floor marvelling the light bulb she had found in the desk. She turned it in her fingers, threw it up in the air and when she didn't catch it burst into laughter before trying to reconstruct the object from the shattered pieces.

Every time Sam's high began to wear off, Ruby would throw him another fix. They binged on every bit of Meth they had.

On the fourth day Sam found his high coming to an end, without anything to fend off the incoming emotion. He curled up on the flood, digging his nails into his skull and screaming. He screamed about how he wasn't good enough, how he wasn't pure. He screamed of a monster in him and of how he was without reason. Without a cause, or a talent and without a place in this world. He was a mistake, an error, a glitch. Sam screamed and screamed.
He begged the alleged demons in his head to leave. He scratched at his arms, drawing blood, trying to cure the incurable itch. He begged for forgiveness, for mercy. Sam begged for death to take him. He curled up tighter and sleep made its way through the boy. Sam appeared dead as he slept, his finger nails encrusted with blood and his clothes sticky with cold sweat. Still, Sam was at peace.

From opposite the room Ruby watched with empty eyes as she too came down from her high. A small spasm of guilt vibrated through her as she watched Sam scream. But soon she too fell deep into sleep.

Sam woke up first. He awoke suddenly, every muscle twitched at once and his pupils contracted. He was still on the floor and as he slowly made his way onto his feet his bones cracked in protest. Sam stripped of his clothes, and headed for the shower. His feet were bloody and full of glass, causing him to wince as he walked. His eyes found Ruby slumped against a wall, her head was tilted slightly and her hand clung onto an empty syringe.

Sam let the water run over him for a while, the sticky sweat got washed away and Sam worked on making his nails free from blood. The water was cold and he welcomed the sting it made as it pooled at his injured feet. He balanced against a wall as he pulled out most of the glass, turning the water a shade of red, and wondered how many days had passed.
When Sam was satisfied that he had banished most of the glass from his feet, he shut off the water, and got dressed. He knew to wait for Ruby to wake up on her own, so he lay on the bed, crossed his arms behind him and stared at the ceiling. Humming a melody that danced through the room.

The same melody that danced through Dean's room as his fingers ran across keys, without sheet music. Just playing from memory.