OOC: Pre-S4 with some sexual content, because I am shipper trash who enjoys horrible relationships that involves shipper-trash-sex.
The fight is short and sweet, and ends with a vessel puking their guts out because before Sam had exorcised the demon from them, they'd been skinning a man alive; somewhere in her crippled heart Ruby pities them, though part of her wonders if it would just have been easier to damn the man to hell and get him twisted and turned. At least it's easier than feeling what he's probably feeling, what he's gonna deal with until he's dead. He's probably gonna be fucked up in the head… but it doesn't matter now. Against Sam's wheezing request to stay, Ruby slings his arm over her much more petite shoulders, a trick to the eye. Sam's lightweight in her supernatural grasp.
"Stop squirming," she grumbles. He makes a frustrated noise, blood dripping down his chest and lip. It's not life-threatening, she's pretty sure. Just hurts like a bitch and a half, and will need stitches. Stupid fleshy human body, all muscle but so easy to break. She gets him all the way back to the run-down shack they've holed up in, dumping him a little less kindly on the mattress before hesitating and softly setting him against the pillow there. He's completely lucid at least, the pain subsided enough to breath easier. Gray-green eyes flick up to look at her as she crawls up to stradle his hips, and the furrowed brow makes her roll her eyes.
"Now's not — "
"Calm down, Romeo. I'm just getting to that ugly cut across your chest. Unless you're calling me fat, which is insulting the meatsuit more than anything." The sass gets her a childish snort in response, but it's not him flipping her off him, so she rips his shirt all the way open and starts to quietly mend the ragged flesh back together again.
"Should I be calling you Doctor Ruby?"
"If that's something you're into, weirdo."
Sam makes a soft humming noise. "Depends on if you're a shitty stitcher."
Something about this moment appeals to Ruby's nature: the silence, the wreckage of a home, the way their breaths are mingling together; Sam's mouth smells like blood, and she reaches over once she's done and runs the pad of her thumb over the oozing cut on his lip. He flinches, his gaze focused on her face, and she wonders what he sees there. Probably something a lot prettier than the disfigured creation underneath. She likes that about Sam; he doesn't shoot straight for the darker things. Always finding the 'good'. Fervently digging into the chasm of his own ribcage, trying to maneuver around stringy lines of black to find the polished gem inside himself. Between that and the power he's got in his hands, he'd be a good overlord. She leans in and kisses the wound, and his mouth parts reluctantly back — and then she laps her tongue over the wound, coppery blood on her taste buds.
He pulls back, eyes wide and rounder, hair a mess in his face.
She shrugs, smiling. "What? You're the only one who gets to have a little blood around here?" Then she leans back in and bites, soft as he hisses against her ear, and yeah, something under the cleft of her ass, under his denim jeans, is swelling. It makes her heart flutter with some twisted sort of warmth; this is romantic, as far as a demon's mind is concerned. She's learned to value the screwed up logic. "Oh," she purrs, running her hands over his hair. "You're definitely a freak in the sheets, Sam. Didn't know you were into pain."
"Shut up," he mumbles half-heartedly, groaning when she shifts.
She unzips him and they have a slow time of it in the dark, and by the time they're done and Sam's laying back all the way against the mattress, his chest wound is dotted with new blood — but stitches are holding strong. Still, as hot as Sam's being right now, he's sweating and still hurting, so she delves deep into her crumpled soul for a little compassion and finds it, gives him a nice dose of pain pills and lets him sink more into a lethargic drug-fueled rest. His eyes flutter, thin lips parted as she dabs away the blood on his chin.
His eyes close softly, looking much younger.
"Love you," he breathes, and she freezes, her stomach dropping slightly. But he's out like a light now, and she can only lean her cheek on her palm and watch him with a piked curiosity.
"You're such a sap, it's not fair. When demons try to do it, they're just creepy. But you sure know how to pull that card." She runs her hand over his hair again, leaning over him like a creature protecting its young. "You'll forgive me. You and me, we'll be unstoppable. You'll be like a god, you know. I'll make sure you get there, no problem."
A kiss on the cheek. It's damning. He's marked for greatness.
She loves the thrill of it.
"You can count on me, Sammy."
