Kansas City
October 1, 2008 3:00AM

Dean never slowed down unless they entered city limits. Within Kansas City, Dean was still speeding but considerably less so than when they were outside large cities or towns. If Sam had opened his bitchy mouth to tell Dean to slow down he would have given him a bloody nose, at most a dislocated jaw. Luckily for Sam, he was spared the make-over. It was three in the morning on October first when they reached Kansas City, which would have been a good place to stop and rest up for any sane person. But not for the Winchesters. The reason Dean had convinced himself of was that he was going to drive straight there, because Dallin needed their help. The real reason was because he wanted to get this job over with.

Sam promised they would help, fine, Dean wasn't going to go back on a promise. Dean wasn't sure what was going to happen once they were done the job, it seemed likely that Sam would take off again like he always did. He wasn't sure why he had said the things he said. Whether they were true or not didn't matter, they shouldn't have been spoken out loud, because Dean didn't want to believe that what he had said was true. Doubt gnawed at him. If only he could talk to Von, she had to know more than she was letting on, right? Billy Squier's Lonely is the Night played on the radio, the engine of the Impala rumbling underneath lending its sound to the music. These reliable constants played as reference points to keep Dean grounded in the present, and once he found himself there he stabilized. He almost felt normal again, almost.

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Von shivered, a frail noise escaping her parted lips while she twisted in the thin bedsheet clad in nothing but the oversized shirt that Trent had given her. Trent didn't know what to do with the colonial dress, getting all the blood out would be impossible and he doubted Von would be willing to put it on again. She lost all her clothes, jewelry, and weapons to Roanoke and she wasn't strong enough to make the trip down to South Dakota to retrieve her car and the rest of her belongings. He decided he would have to do some clothes shopping for her after he brought Pamela back, so Von wouldn't be by herself for too long. When the evening started to cool off, Von allowed Trent to bring her back inside and that was when he offered her one of his shirts. He said it was even big on him and it would work as pajamas for her until they bought something better. At least she wasn't sitting in the kitchen completely naked while she drank her tea. She
insisted she wasn't hungry, instead drinking two cups of tea with a little honey. Grateful that at no time, she felt her body protest the liquid resulting in the need to throw up. Emotionally and physically exhausted, feeling as if all the world's energy was weighing down on her, she returned to Trent's bedroom to see him stripping down to his boxers.

Seeing the weariness in Von's eyes Trent smiled gently and gathered his things to leave her in peace when she stopped him. Her hand slid limply down his arm and her gaze fell as she walked
to the bed and crawled under the sheets. Von never liked to touch anyone, because of her gifts. Sometimes Trent was the odd exception, according to his own experiences. It was always odd to see her vulnerable, Von had the perfect poker face which people often mistook for sadness. Perhaps because it was an emotion permanently etched into her features. The point was one never knew what Von was truly thinking. She never let anyone close, especially when she was hurt. Her wounded animal mentality would never dare to trust someone long enough to let them help her. Very few had that privilege, and usually only when she was close to death.

"I'm going to lock up everything, won't be long."

When Trent returned Von's eyes were closed and she was breathing gently. Trent turned off the light after lighting some incense and slipped under the covers, careful to give Von her space. He woke immediately when Von began to twist and turn in her sleep. He thought about waking her from her torment, but a cautious voice at the back of his head told him not to touch and even the hair on his arms and at the back of his neck prickled at the thought. The only thing he could do was watch and wait. Eventually, it passed. Nearly giving Trent a heart attack when loose objects around them began to scatter and shatter as the bed shook. Von neared closer and clasped his arm, ripples of energy flowed into Trent's body, then the fit ceased and a serene calm settled over the room. Trent allowed himself to relax back into the mattress, he pulled himself up against Von, his chest to her back. Gradually he slowly fell asleep, breathing in the soft frankincense scent of Von's hair.

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Off the Yellow Head Highway, British Columbia
October 1, 2008
7:00 A.M.

Trent peeked his left eye open when he heard heavy furniture scraping against the wooden floor. He sat bolt upright when he saw everything in the room stacked against the walls at odd angles, the floor space cleared of debris and the bed in the center of the room. Turning he saw that Von was no longer in bed with him. "Von," he called loud enough to be heard anywhere in the house. Trent paused when something shifting above caught his attention, cautiously he looked up. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed.

Scrambling off the bed Trent got to his feet, perfectly alarmed by what he was seeing. Floating above the bed was Von, eyes closed and serene, with her auburn hair and the shirt she was wearing caught up in its own breeze. When Trent managed to swallow his heart back down into his chest he tried to pull Von back down onto the bed. It was useless, whatever was causing her to levitate was persistent. Eventually she came down and at that point he quickly got dressed, picked her up and ran them to his truck. Every mile Trent thought about turning his truck around. He didn't know what was wrong with Von, he tried everything he knew but she wouldn't wake up. White knuckling the steering wheel Trent prayed that Pamela would be able to work some psychic mojo, pierce The Veil, to discover a solution to what was happening to Von. Maybe there was a way to fix it.

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Off the Yellowhead Highway, British Columbia

October 1, 2008

11:00AM

"She's drifting." Pamela leaned back on her heels, lowering her hands from Von's face.

Trent's brow furrowed in concern, pocketing his hands to keep himself from fidgeting with them. "Drifting?" he shook his head unable to understand the cryptic meaning of the word.

"Think of it as being half-in, half-out. She's unable to ground herself and find an anchor in the material plane. Her spirit is stuck in between." Pamela turned away from Von's unfixed far-away eyes to find Trent's worried face.

"She was this bad yesterday. But she's been refusing to eat." It finally made sense to Trent. Whatever had happened to her had made her like this, whatever it was….

"Roanoke," Von uttered.

Roanoke, the Lost Colony, Trent thought in amazement.

That explained Von's period dress, but it also left a lot of questions. The how and the why most of all were at the forefront of Trent's mind. "She won't eat," Trent insisted. He had tried, knowing that if he had tried any harder Von would have become angry and in her state Trent wanted to avoid putting her through that strain.

"Give us some time and I'll be able to bring her back to the here and now," Pamela reassured him with a smile that set his mind at ease. The dark haired vixen told him it was okay for him to leave for a few hours, maybe get something more than oversized shirts for Von to wear. Trent was impressed by Pamela, she was a very strong competent woman, and he could tell that this first meeting wouldn't be their last. A connection had been made between them, a budding friendship.

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Demopolis, Alabama 1:30PM
Comfort Inn

The minute they arrived, they found the nearest motel to check into. Before the car could even stop, Sam was already out of the car with his duffel bag he had in between his legs and going to the check-in. Entering, there was a teenage girl with black hair in a messy bun, black almost everything she was wearing, but her face was clear of makeup, other than a light eyeliner and mascara on her eyes. When she looked up he swore she saw a kind of curiosity and interest. He ignored it a few steps before saying hi.

"One room please."

"Queen or-"

"Whatever is fine, not picky." The name on her tag said Meredith and he sighed. "Meredith? Sorry, just a long drive."

She smiled a little and nodded. Her eyes veered to the side when she saw another man come to the glass door as she booked the current in a room and handed him the key as he paid. "Have a nice day." Her attention went to the newcomer and opened her mouth. "Queen or king?"

Sam headed to room 9 and immediately entered, locking the door and tossing his bag on the little table meant for eating. Removing his stuff he began to get to work on protecting the room, but he knew that if Ruby were to ever come in he'd direct her around the traps and break the salt line ever so that it wouldn't be obvious to the naked eye. After he finished, he fished into his pocket and removed the phone to send off a text at where they were and what room he was in. He pocketed it and ran his hand through his hair as he took in the motel room. There was no way he was sharing a room with Dean and that was all he was thinking in the car ride. He needed the space, privacy and other things so then Dean could cool off and not start another fire within. Sam needed to get out. He needed to get going on this. If Dean was going to hole up, he wanted to do the exact opposite and besides...this was his trip. Not Dean's. The tall hunter left and took off on foot, landing at Mr. G's Pizza and taking a seat. Another text sent off to Ruby and he ordered some food.

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The empty whiskey bottle rolled away from Dean's limp grasp onto the dirty carpeted floor, he sat passed out on the bed with his chin resting on his chest while some trashy sit-com buzzed through the antiquated speakers of an old television set. But sweet whiskey dreams were not meant to be. The next thing he was aware of was his hands swimming through the entrails of a man screaming and wailing on his table. Dean already cut out his tongue so he choked and gargled every time he breathed in to fill his lungs for another scream, each scream was shorter the more his lungs filled with blood. Two figures stood a little ways from the light, only their eyes glimmering in the darkness, their presence distinctly feminine. One had eyes like shimmering pools of starlight; the other's swirled with onyx and lapis. They observed him with a
keen interest, appraising every stroke of his blade, every pulse and twitch of his muscles as he rendered meat from bone.

Alistair now stood where the women had been, smiling that flesh eating smile of his. "Dean,"
his guttural voice purred, taking the back of Dean's head he smashed it down against the table that was now void of the man's body. He held him there while ropes barbed with thorns took hold of his arms, cutting across his chest and over his back, holding him fast while Alistair forced Dean's legs apart for the ropes to do the same to his ankles. "The trick is to relax," Alistair whispered in his ear.

Dean's body jerked up against the table, the ropes tearing away the skin, forcing muscle to pucker out of the wounds while the barbs sunk into bone. His body collided with the table, again and again, bruising his hips each time until blood oozed lazily down his thighs. When Alistair was done, Dean was left unbound covered in blood and other expelled fluids. He nervously convulsed on the ground like a crushed insect. Then suddenly he was whole again, though it felt he was left broken for decades. Curled into a corner of his cell he furtively peeked up when he heard steady athletic breathing emanating from the other corner. There he saw Von strung up, a metal bar pierced through her ankles with weights on either side and two metal bars through her wrists, rivulets of blood swirled around her pale arms and down her back, swooping over her chest and hips. Her trance-like calm was broken when she saw him.

"Hey!" A finger jabbed him in the chest, scrunching up his dark grey shirt. He looked down to the person who belonged to the annoyed digit and saw a very young, very pissed off Alex Tatiani staring up at him.

"Jesus Christ, I don't have time for this." He swiped Alex's hand away, but it only jabbed him in the chest again.

"Why do my new sneakers smell like piss?" she demanded.

"I thought a little estrous would help you attract all the bucks at school you've been drooling over, since you can't seem to produce enough on your own," Dean smirked and pushed passed her.

An adult Alex stood in front of him now, arms folded over her chest, pushing up her
breasts. "Why didn't you just tell me the neighbor's cat pissed in them?"

"I did tell you that, served you right for leaving your stolen sneakers outside." Dean might have teased Alex when they were younger but he was never so mean as to pour doe urine on her shoes. He had been the generic asshole with the inappropriate comment at the right time. Or wrong time depending on who you were.

"I'm not what you think I am," she said.

"You mean aside from some freakish demonic half-breed?" Dean swiped her arm away when she
reached out to touch him. "Don't touch me."

"I wouldn't point fingers if I were you," Alex warned.

Dean's heart stuttered, dread wrapped its paralyzing grip around him. Or maybe it was Alex with her hand outstretched and clenched into a fist, slowly choking the life from him. Pale light filled the room, the same soft glow one saw before the gathering intensity of an a-bomb detonation. The foundations of Bobby's house shook, glass shattered, and searing heat, clean and bright ripped Alex asunder, vaporizing her where she stood. The light consumed and a faint humming filled Dean's ears.

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"Heya, Sam." Sliding into the booth seat across from Sam, Dallin gave a huge grin. He watched
all of Sam's blood drain from his face and he laughed. "Good to see you too." He smiled up at the waitress who came by and he ordered a large plate of fries. Leaning forward, "They're like deep-fried crack." Dallin winked before lounging back in his seat. Of course it wasn't really Dallin, because Dallin was dead. A demon had ripped him up from the inside out and then they salted and burned the shredded meat that was left over. But to see the look on Sam's face was
absolutely worth bringing the useless husk of flesh back into one piece. And if Sam thought Ruby was going to be easy on him, he was going to be sorely disappointed. Dallin's smile dropped and a hint of malice glinted in his dark eyes. "Please tell me this is the last time you fuck up."

Sam was still staring trying to figure out the situation to get mad. Blinking a few times, he shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. "You know I can't promise that with Dean back..." he paused and gathered himself. "What the hell are you doing in his body?" There was actual anger now because he had told her before that he didn't like her using bodies, but this time it was different. This time it was Dallin. Someone he had known. He had expected to just find the body of Dallin, not be talking face to face with it. What about the other stuff? Sam was not going to take what he needed from his old dead friend and hunter. He refused to stoop to that level. "What about Dean? How are you going to pull this off? Do you even know how Dallin is? Sure you knew when we were around him when he was alive, but there is no way to take memories and fool him Ruby," he said in a lower but still tone filled voice. Sitting back he looked around the place, everyone was too busy stuffing their face to notice the wrongness near them.

"I'm pretty sure I can manage being a hopeless romantic idiot that has spent more time trying to find the one, instead of doing his part to keep at bay the tidal wave of shit that is coming straight
for us," Ruby quipped from Dillan's lips. As far as memories went she told Sam not to worry about it, she knew enough about Dallin, more than Sam thought she did in order to fool Dean. "Of course, we could make this a whole lot easier and leave right now, I take it Dean's still passed out in the motel room, it would be the perfect time to ditch his useless ass to pick up Lilith's trail." Dallin's dark eyes stared into Sam's blue-green for a good long moment as Ruby watched Sam actually struggle with the decision. It was pathetic. "Or we keep up this charade and waste what precious time we have." Dallin bit into his lip hard enough to draw a delicate droplet of blood. The crimson pearl puckered along his bottom lip before he licked it off his lips, inwardly smiling when Sam squirmed at the delicious sight of it. Anything to help Sam make the right decision.

The blood made him swallow, his eyes remained there before he flicked them up and glared. "Dean would just find me again and you know that." He ran his hand through his hair and down his face, glancing out the window. "He's fucking everything up for me. I'm glad he's back don't get me wrong but this is the worst possible time. I don't know how to get away let alone to make sure he doesn't follow. Besides I thought the lead was here?" He brought his attention back to Dallin's body. "Or are you yanking my chain now too?"

Easy, easy...don't get mad at her. She's trying to help. She has what I need too. Shaking his head he apologized.

Dallin shrugged. "The only reason he found you after he came back, was because of Von. Whatever she is, the mojo bags couldn't block it. Without her, Dean would have never been able to find you on his own, and from what I've heard it's doubtful you'll ever have to worry about her again." Dipping the French fries that were served up to him in a pool of ketchup, he chewed on a mouthful casually while Sam stewed over what he had just said. But Ruby didn't want Sam to sit on it too long; no doubt the thought would keep creeping up now that she made the mistake of mentioning it. "There is a lead here, another group of demons. I'm not sure what they're here for and you need the practice," Ruby explained sternly through Dallin's voice.

Sam was weak, he had squandered his supply in the short time he was gone from Ruby, and Ruby had meant for that to happen. She needed him dependent on her, like an infant to its mother. She could find all sorts of ways to push him, and he would inevitably come crawling back to her for a fix. Anything to sate the hunger and to ease the pain of being alive. Because despite the fact that Dean was topside again, Sam had already given up on so much. His eyes narrowed at her. "What do you mean I may never have to worry about her again?"

Von again. Why do people keep bringing her up?

"Never mind, listen...you need to get out of Dallin. Just...just for a couple hours. I need..." He paused to glance around. "I need you." His eyes burned with intensity and his muscles were tight. Energy had to be given and then released. This was how it worked for them. For him. "Either you tell me where you are or find a chick. Fast." Standing up he walked towards the bathroom of the place, heading to the sink and splashing water in his face. Sam braced himself against the porcelain. When had he let himself get out of control?

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"Wouldn't mind a little normalcy every now and again." Dean relaxed his throat as he tilted a shot glass full of whiskey to his lips and knocked it back in one fell swoop. He looked to his left as he set the empty shot glass down next to five others, of all the people that he knew it was Alex that sat next to him. "You're two behind Tatiani, want me to slow down so you can catch up?" A cocky grin tilted Dean's lips in her direction before he lifted his pint of beer to wash down the burn of whiskey. This was about as normal as it ever got for someone in his line of work. Brooding over a few beers was a long held Winchester custom. Sometimes Sam would be with him, but more often than not he was by himself. On the prowl for a little pussy if he was in mood. Dean had a feeling that a lot of bar nights in the future would be him by his lonesome with not even Sam 'light-weight' Winchester to keep him company.

"You're thinking this is unusual," Alex observed.

Dean turned towards her. "You a mind reader now or something?" He quirked an eyebrow.

Alex shook her head and lifted a shot glass to her lips. "I don't have to be to read the expression on your face whenever you look at me."

"You have to admit, it's weird. I mean, I could see Sam sitting there, or a sexy hooker. But you? Not a chance." Dean took another shot.

"So now you're wondering why?" Alex asked.

Dean shrugged, thumbing some of the condensation off of his mug of beer. He didn't have to tell her that they never got along, she knew that already. He figured her presence was purely superficial, some sort of subconscious primal urge. Because he couldn't deny that Alex had turned out with a nice pair of tits and an ass he would love to thrust his hips up against. She was petite and curvy. Dean started being poetical when he thought about how he could just stare at
her naked form stretched out on a chaise lounge like some sort of classic oil painting. The bar stool disappeared out from under Dean, his ass landing in the dirt by a cold running stream as he looked around perplexed. Getting to his feet he was worried about how familiar the forest around him felt, although he couldn't recall exactly when he had been here or what State he was in. He stood and dusted himself off, startled when Von approached him looking like she had barely been the victor of one hell of a fight. Her fair freckled skin was splattered with dark blood, her eyes fever bright with adrenaline.

"I'm sorry to pull you away, but you have to wake up. They're coming!" she warned in earnest.

"Who's coming?" Dean strode up to her and she reached up to flatten her palm on his chest, crinkling his shirt with her fingertips when she grasped the fabric gently.

"Demons. They're after you. Please, wake up, wake up now!"

Dean's eyes shot open when he felt the familiar grip of Ruby's knife pressed into his hand. There was no time to contemplate how it was possible, when the door was smashed in and six people walked in eyes all black and sneering at him. "What, no salt?" asked one.

"Maybe he thinks he doesn't need it anymore," they laughed. They lunged towards Dean and Dean lunged towards them, the first eating the knife with his face. Only a moment's hesitation while Dean yanked the bloody blade out of the dead demon's maw before they were on him, clutching and scratching to get ahold of his struggling form. Dean Winchester was no match against five demons though, while he severely wounded two more he succumbed to the assault of the punches and kicks. Unceremoniously, Dean was dragged from the motel room and tossed into an awaiting delivery van. The van tore around the corner and disappeared down the adjacent alley.

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"Von, Von honey, ya gotta wake up."

Pamela lifted the damp dish cloth to wipe away the blood dripping from Von's nose, over her lips and down her chin. The dark haired woman could tell that Von was keenly focused on something, but if the redhead continued on like this it would be impossible to get her back. When she placed a hand over top of Von's, Von's green eyes fluttered becoming more aware of what was around her, not what was far away. But it only lasted an instant. Pamela was going to have to give her the push she needed to get back onto the material plane. Since Trent had left, Pamela had already set up her space from everything she had packed into a duffle bag. Candles, incense, various gemstones, a bedroll and a blanket, and a few other odds and ends. Pulling a few small pouches from her duffle, Pamela set them aside along with the bloodied dish cloth, then after asking, though she didn't get much of a response, proceeded to pull off Von's shirt and lay her down on her back atop the bedroll. She then lit some Nag Champa and got to work, laying gemstones such as obsidian and iron quartz at various points along Von's body.

"I'm realigning your Chakras, your energy is dispersed unevenly," she explained while she circled Von counterclockwise before placing down another stone.

Once she was done, Pamela covered Von with the blanket and sat cross legged, gently placing her fingertips at Von's temples while she meditated. Eventually, Von's eyes drifted closed and her body relaxed. Pamela continued this process for three hours, perfectly still except for the gentle movement of breathing and her soothing voice occasionally reciting a mantra of grounding. Von's eyes snapped open, an ephemeral spark of violet flashed amongst the deep green of her eyes before disappearing without a trace. Her lips parted in a small gasp, she caught Pamela looking down at her with a warm smile.

"Welcome back."

Von's eyes drifted closed. "Thank you, Pamela," Von breathed.

She was grateful, an out of body experience such as that was foreign to her, and yet she had not
bothered to try to get back into her body. Because she was doing something she thought was beyond her capabilities, and certainly the bloody nose and headache proved it was a strain on her physical body. She lay perfectly still while Pamela removed the stones and returned the shirt and
blanket to her. Von understood the necessity of it, but it was getting tiresome to have so many people lately see her body when she tried so hard to cover up what had been done to her, both by herself and others. But Pamela was nothing but compassionate and asked no questions, in fact she didn't even seem to care let alone notice. It was a mercy that Von was grateful for. When others had seen there was always the concern, the pity and the questions, even if they were left unspoken Von could hear them bouncing around in their heads as clear as day, or at least the emotion of them pressing against her, trying to get in.

The only thing on Von's mind was what she had done. She would have laughed derisively if
she didn't know it was true. It was Dean, she had been helping Dean. That is until they dragged him into a building and she had lost the connection, possible warding, but more likely from Pamela pulling her back before she was completely lost. Now she worried about him, his state of mind and concerned over where Sam had been when it happened. An awful pit in her stomach began to develop over the thought of Alex, she had to be found. Bobby had always warned that war was coming. But that wasn't true. It was already here.

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Dallin stood and followed Sam into the bathroom. "Your heterosexuality is a real downer you know that? Afraid of a little sword fighting or is necrophilia more your thing? That woman's body you've grown attached to, is slowly rotting on an abandoned barn house floor without a soul or what passes for a soul inside of it. We have work to do here and if Dean manages to catch up to us, he'll be suspicious if you're seen with a woman instead of Dallin. So you need to suck
it up. Now," Dallin closed in on Sam, "you wanna do this here, or somewhere more private?" Assessing Sam, Ruby knew how badly off he was, but this was nothing compared to what it would be like once she started to feed him more. He would be completely dependent on her from then on. He was already showing further signs of his degrading morality, it pleased her to know that he was willing to have Ruby possess some poor woman just so he could convince himself he was fucking Ruby and not raping a stranger. Placing his hand on Sam's shoulder Dallin looked him square in the eye, "I know you're hurting, but you want to be strong enough to go after Lilith don't you?"

How could she say that? How could she do this to him? Sam was disgusted by the fact she was Dallin and trying to convince him. He knew if he backed out she would make him suffer long enough till he couldn't take it and gave in. But to take it now...he needed it bad. His anger was up the scale. "No. If you want me up to par and to be able to lie to Dean convincingly. You need to be a woman. I am not playing your twisted games Ruby. Otherwise you can fuck off and I will find another demon and do this myself." Saying that hurt. Stepping a distance from Dallin he glared. Stick to his guns. He meant it though. Any demon would do, despite he preferred her. He didn't swing that way.

"Good luck finding a demon that'll hand itself over to you," Ruby snarked. Without giving
Sam any time to spare she grabbed him, marking the look of disgust on Sam's face with hidden glee. In a flash they now stood in a young woman's room, gazing upon the sleeping form of a cute strawberry blonde that was taking an afternoon nap. Ruby wanted to push Sam in any way she could, but she reminded herself that with Dallin it might be a bit too far, she couldn't afford all of her hard work to be ruined. Dallin arched his back, black smoke flooding out of his mouth, spiraling down into the woman's parted lips. Dallin's body dropped lifeless and the cute strawberry blonde stretched and yawned on the bed, bright eyes fluttering open to take in Sam.
The innocence of her stare took on a primal hunger. "She thinks this is a dream and don't worry, she's of age." Ruby moved the girl across the bed, crawling low like an animal about to strike.

She reached out with an arm as soft and pale as porcelain, wrapping her delicate fingers around Sam's belt to pull him close. With the other hand she reached down Sam's pocket to pull out the small switchblade he kept there. Without hesitation she slit her wrist, holding it up to Sam's mouth as a sweet sacrament.

Sam swallowed and all anger left him. His hands pushed her to lay down on the bed as his mouth sought out the open wound. Tongue lapping up as he sucked the red salty iron-flavoured blood down. The spike of something different, something other, sliding down his throat, along his taste buds, and filling his veins made him groan. He closed his eyes as one hand grabbed her wrist. Body against body, he pressed into her. Opening his lids he stared with heat and hunger at the body she was in. A part of him was saying something was wrong about this, but he was so far into it he damned the thought and removed his mouth only to meet her lips. Sliding his hand down her arm and to her waist, his fingers massaged the fabric of the shirt, riding it up, touching the skin. Soft, warm….he felt her legs go around him and he locked his heat to hers, pressing against and grinding. Sam was going crazy. This wasn't Ruby, but it was. This was how they worked. Ever since that time she had moved onto him, after throwing his stuff into the toilet, of
course.

There was another vice. Ruby. "Tell me what you want," he voiced, breathing against her neck where his mouth had finally travelled. Her telling him to take her was right on cue. Grinning, Sam's hands ripped her shirt down the middle, exposing a lacy pink bra. He quirked his brows up only for a moment before he dove to claim the creamy white globes beneath. Like unwrapping a present, his fingers made quick work of the garment. One hand bracing himself above, the other along her back to arch into his tongue and lips.

Ruby arched into Sam fisting her fingers into his hair, she pulled his face away to give her room to reach for his belt. There were easier ways to undo his pants, but Ruby was always careful about using her powers and Sam always liked the hands-on traditional approach. Freeing him of his jeans she was forced back down, but not before she tore the back of his shirt wide open, exposing the olive skin of his well-muscled back. The body she was possessing was already getting hot and gooey on its insides, already cramping and throbbing with the need for Sam to be inside of it. Ruby allowed those feelings to flow unhindered, enhancing them where necessary to the point where some of the moans were Ruby's and some of them belonged to the young woman. There was no harm in playing with the woman she was inside of, it would be like a threesome, with the woman getting snatches and glimpses of what was being done to her. But still always thinking it was an amazingly vivid dream, for now.

"Enough with the foreplay."

Ruby slipped off the delicate pink lace panties that matched the bra. She stared at Sam as he watched her hand slide down her thigh, fingering and massaging her clit before dipping first one and then two fingers inside of herself. She closed her eyes and sighed, this body was just too easy and she loved to watch Sam watching her moisten her fingertips. Fingers still warm and glistening with dew she reached inside of Sam's boxers and began to massage him, teasing her slick fingers over his tip in circles that promised so many sweet and delicious things. His body
shuddered, Ruby never understood why Sam always tried to show restraint whenever he needed to release the thing that was inside of him. As if he still had some ridiculous sense of morality. Either that or he loved torturing himself by refusing the pleasure of losing control. Curling her toes around his boxers Ruby pulled them down over his erection while she pulled herself up, her
mouth coming into contact with his abdomen and then lower to his pelvis. Ruby bit at his hip bone, dragging her nails down his sides. But being the control freak that he was it wouldn't be long before he overtook the act, he liked his women to have enough fight in them to turn sex into an erotic wrestling match. But he also wanted to ensure he was the dominant one.

He tilted his head back and groaned at her attentions. Before she could get any further he forced her to lay back down. "Not today Ruby," he growled.

His hand grabbed himself as he pressed to her core, sliding up and down it to lubricate himself and to tease her. Finally Sam directed the tip to her opening and pushed, not being slow like usual. He had been absent from her too long it felt. Sam slammed body against body, knowing she liked it rough but he never really went there, not unless she got him mad in the early days, months ago. Hands on either side of her, his hips worked to thrust and add some different movements into the mix. God it felt amazing to be inside of another warm body. He almost felt euphoric. High. Sam's lips met hers hungrily, biting and nipping and near bruising as he swallowed her moans of ecstasy. The feel of her nails on his skin, her legs tight on his hips and feet just under his ass to encourage him made him go near crazy. Closer and closer with each brush in the slick wet heat, he began to tighten his muscles and shudder as he released. Sam pushed through it with a hard slow push after push before he picked her up and began to continue. But that was when he came to and stopped. Stopped kissing her, stopped everything as he lifted her up and put her down. What was he doing? Now that he had his fix, he could think clearly. Ruby was in a living person's body. He had...he swallowed the bile. Quickly he put himself inside and together, zipping up and turning away from her.

"Get out. Get us out of here." How could he do such a thing? What was happening to him?

Sam and his annoying attacks of conscientiousness. Ruby huffed before the young woman's slender neck craned back and thick black smoke screeched out of her mouth and back into the Dallin's cold corpse. Dallin got to his feet, dark eyes settling on the unconscious form of the strawberry blonde posed in such a way that was both sultry and innocent. Grinning he clasped Sam on the shoulder and in a blink they were gone. It was always amusing to see Sam come to his senses after he had already satisfied himself. "Happy now?" Dallin asked. "If you have any regrets, maybe next time you won't be so picky."

He shrugged the hand off his shoulder once they arrived in front of his motel room. Sam wanted more than anything to tell Ruby off, but he blinked a few times when he looked down the way where his brother's room was. Something was not right. He could practically feel the energy in his bones. Stalking off in the direction, he found he was right. The door was wide open, there were some things askew and Dean was missing. The Winchester even looked through the small room and bathroom to find no sign of the elder. He slammed the palm of his hand against the doorjamb in frustration as his eyes landed on the body of Dallin standing in the doorway.

"Friends of yours?" he joked hotly and shook his head. "We gotta find him. From what I can tell it didn't happen too long ago. Think you can find a trail or something? Jesus," he breathed and ran his hands through his hair.

Leave Dean alone to his drunken self and this is what happens. Not even salt at any possible entrances? No sigils? Dean must've been really far gone if he slipped up that much.

Dallin strode past Sam into the room, stooping down to inspect the body. The acrid stink of sulphur still hung around, but the demon was as dead as the corpse at Dallin's feet. Grasping the open jaw he tilted the man's head, rigor mortis had not yet set in, but it was getting close. Another hour at least. Out the back of the man's head a pool of blood had soaked into the carpet, the smell of wet copper fighting with the smell of rotten eggs. It would have made most people gag, but to Ruby it was a delight. Another smell she couldn't pinpoint made her nose crinkle in disgust, others might have found it lovely.

"I can track them, but it's going to take time Sam. And that's if they haven't put the effort into hiding themselves properly, otherwise it's gonna take a lot longer." Dallin stood, wiping his bloodied fingertips on his pant leg. There had been six of them, five minus the one on the floor that had underestimated Dean's knack for violence. It was interesting enough to make Ruby voice her thoughts, "Makes you wonder what they're worried about, sending in six goons instead of the usual two or three." Dallin raised a brow at Sam as if to say don't count Dean out just yet, really it made Ruby as nervous as those other demons probably were. Because the big question on everyone's lips was what had managed to rescue Dean Winchester from Hell? What did it want with him?

Sam nodded and left the room to head to the impala. Thankfully they never put too much worry over locking it and was able to pop the trunk to get some items as well as a map for Ruby. Dropping off the map he went to his room and began to boot up his computer. Time for research. Just as he was about to click enter on the search engine he paused. Maybe he could try to stretch his abilities? If Von could do it...why not him? Closing his eyes he began to focus, to concentrate. In the end all he got was nothing on Dean, but something on Von instead which troubled him.