In a quiet, dark motel room, Dean sleeps. His dreams are plagued by flashes of memories of his time in hell…screaming, blood, flashes just outside of his vision of figures writhing in torment.

Amidst it all, he hears a voice, annoying in its persistence, "Shammy ish my darling, my darling, my darling, Shammy ish my darling, my ducky ducky doo…"

He frowns in slumber, rolling over to fling an arm over his eyes.

The nightmarish voice continues, "Ok, minionsh…let'sh make this shucker'sh time in hell memorable…"

The memories flood over him. He is prodded with three-pronged tridents, sticking him in the ribs and stomach and legs, drawing blood wherever they touch…wounds rehealing and being poked again, over and over…then comes the branding irons…touching, burning like fire and rehealing to be burned again by hands that seem to float in space.

With effort, he strains to see past the hands, his dream-state blurry and smeared. He follows the hands up past the arms to the shoulders and finally, sees the face of his tormentor.

It's a familiar face…wooden expression, no flicker of emotion in the eyes or face, lips stuck in position as if sewn in place…lips that lisp…RUBY!!!

With a start, Dean awakens, sitting ram-rod straight up in bed. "That bi-", So angry, he can't complete the thought, he turns on the light between the beds and kicks the one his brother is sleeping in, "SAM!"

Sam immediately sits up, alert to danger from the tone of Dean's voice, "What?...Dean? what is it?"

Dean pulls on pants and a shirt, "It's Ruby, Sam! She was there in hell, with me…she was the one … dammit, you shoulda let me send her back to hell when I had the chance…She wasn't sent there by Lilith, Sam…SHE LIVES THERE! She's the Tormentor! The one that gets the newbies…she breaks them…breaks their will, their spirit, their bodies….over and over again…it's never ending…and she was doing that to me…and she was enjoying it…"

Grabbing his jacket, Dean turns to Sam "Where's the knife? I'm gonna send her so far back to hell she'll never get out…How did she get out in the first place? I thought only angels could pull people from hell..."

"Dean, hold on…" Sam grabs clothes and hurriedly throws them on, "Are you sure it was Ruby?"

"Sam, I know the passionless delivery, the expressionless face, the shtupid, shilly, lishp! Yes, it was Ruby!"

"Ok, Dean, ok…let's just figure out what we're dealing with here…If Ruby can walk in and out of hell on her own, just sending her back there isn't going to accomplish anything…let's just think for a minute!"

Sam walks over to the table and switches on the light. He rapidly flips pages in a thick book there and slaps a page, "I knew it! I thought it sounded familiar!"

Dean walks over and looks over Sam's shoulder, reading out loud, "The Tormentor is a would-be thespian who cannot act their way out of a brown paper bag and who has been ridiculed their entire lives for having no talent, no flair, no screen presence and no ability other than to take up space and add to the background of certain scenes. Years of being laughed at and mocked have caused the Tormentor to build up a shell of anger through which normal means of exorcism cannot penetrate. Thus, these beings take pleasure at causing pain to others and are commonly employed in hell to welcome newly damned souls to the abyss."

Dean looks at Sam, "So how do we kill the witch?"

Sam smiles, "I think I have an idea…"

After explaining the plan to Dean and getting the room ready, Sam lights candles and chants a few Latin sentences, "Om-kay o-te em-a, oob-ree"

Dean raises an eyebrow and Sam shrugs, embarrassed, "She likes to be summoned in pig Latin…"

With a poof and a pop, Ruby appears in the room. She looks around and, seeing Sam, comes to stand near him, "Shammy…my Shamshon…I knew you'd want me back…"

Blushing because of the look Dean is giving him, Sam clears his throat, "Ruby, you know I couldn't be without you for long…Listen, I've been telling Dean about how well you can act and he doesn't believe me…"

Ruby gives Dean a bland, expressionless look, meant to be scary but failing miserably.

Sam continues, "So I thought you could give him a little demonstration. You know how much I love it when you play Juliet…can you…for me, Rubes?"

Ruby nods, "Anything for you, my Sham…"

She puts down her head for a second and then stands up straight, putting the back of one hand against her forehead, "What'sh in a name? That which we call a roshe, By any other word would shmell ash shweet…."

She stops and looks at the boys. Sam claps and nods, "Yeah!" and looks at Dean, encouraging him to do the same.

Dean gives Sam the 'are you nuts?" look but obligingly claps his hands and yells, "Awesome!"

"More!" Sam shouts.

"Good-night, good-night! Parting ish shuch shweet shorrow…That I sshall shay good-night till it be morrow…" Ruby trails off.

"BRAVO!" Sam applauds loudly and smiles proudly at Ruby.

Dean whistles and stomps, "Yeah! Woo-hoo!"

Ruby scuffs her foot on the ground, "Come on, you guysh…it washn't that good…" and gives them a slight smile, relaxing her guard.

Sam shoots Dean a look and walks up next to Ruby, putting an arm around her shoulders to give her a squeeze, "You're just being modest! You're one of the best actresses I know! You command the room when you're in a scene!

"Sham, that'sh why I shtay with you…you're the only one who'sh ever tried to shee the good in me…that'sh why I love you, Shammy…"

"I know you do, Ruby…that's why I know that I have to be the one to do it…because I'm the only one who can get through your shell of anger…it has to be me…" Sam tightens his grip on her, "But I can't do it alone…Dean?"

"Cas?" Dean calls and Castiel appears on the other side of Ruby.

She jumps, "What'sh going on, Sham?"

Dean steps forward and plunges the knife into her heart. Sam places his hand over Ruby's mouth and stops the demon smoke from rising, catching it easily in his hand and holding it there. Castiel looks at Sam and reaches out, placing his hand on top of Sam's. The demon smoke swirls and then becomes an electrical current, snapping and sparking until with a bolt of lightening, it's sent heavenward with an ear-rending screech…

Castiel takes Sam's hand and turns it over, showing a burn on his palm where he held the demon back. Castiel waves his hand and Sam's burn is healed, the flesh now smooth and pink.

Sam smiles at Castiel, "Thanks."

Castiel nods, "Thank you. Good work…both of you. We were aware the Tormentor was here on Earth but didn't know the identity until it was revealed in Dean's dream. You have not only saved all of humanity from present and future roles this actress would have held, you've saved all damned souls from her terrible acting as well…There will be another Tormentor assigned but not for many years to come…A bad actress like that only comes along once in an eon. The world is safe for your lifetime and the lifetime of most of your viewing audience."

Dean asks,"So where did you send her?"

"To the Limbus of Mercy…it's an antechamber of Heaven…she'll be reprogrammed, retaught…she'll take acting lessons and get her lips unsewn…she'll get her soul restored and if she wants, she can either go to her eternal rest or join the Not Ready For Celestial Time Players and hone her craft. Either way, she won't be able to come back to earth…ever…we're not like Hell…we don't have a revolving door where people just come and go as they please. Maybe in two thousand years, she can get a day pass but there's forms to fill out in triplicate and approvals to get…it's not easy…chances are she's gone for good."

Castiel walks away, fading into air as he goes, "Until we meet again…"