While Sam and Ruby are back at the motel, Dean's found himself a neat little convience store that's opened 24/7, with practically everything he's looking for, about 15 minutes in the opposite direction of Fork Mountain. Heading back into the Impala, he climbs into the driver's seat and shuts the door (carefully) behind him, checking in the bag that he's got everything; pack of donuts, Snickers, a couple beers, Pringles and a little Valentine's Day surprise I have planned after we're finished the job. Oh yeah and his liquorice and peanut butter. That kid is seriously demented if he thinks he can eat that and not get sick but it might provide some amusement after what's happened tonight,he laughs to himself before placing the bag beside him and turning the ignition. His "girl" roars into life as she reverses out of the small parking lot with a gentle purr before roaring back in the direction of the motel, with "heavy metal" music booming from within and Dean singing along…
"So, million-dollar question -- are you gonna tell Dean about what we've been doing?" Ruby asks, leaning back on her elbows next to Sam on the bed with one leg over the other.
Sam looks like he's in his own little world, finally blinking back into reality, "Yeah, just gotta figure out the right way to say it," he replies, looking down at her to find that her expression means that it's not quite the answer she was looking for.
"Look, just need a little more time, okay? That's all." He tries to persuade, gesturing with his hands, but being Ruby she's having none of it. She sighs crossly, pushing herself off the bed and taking a few steps away before spinning on her heels, "Damn it Sam, he's gonna find out and if it's not from you he's gonna be real pissed!"
It's Sam's turn to huff as he runs a hand through his hair, "Oh, he's gonna be pissed anyway. He's so hard-headed about this psychic stuff, he'll just try and stop me."
Ruby, knowing full well that she didn't come here just to fight, hooks a strand of her blonde hair around her ear and takes a breather. After what seemed like hours of silence she speaks up, "Look, maybe I'll just take a step back for a while."
"Ruby…" Sam starts but she interjects, "I mean I'm not really in your brother's fan club but," she stops to look at him, a understanding expression forming on her face, "he is your brother and I'm not gonna come between the two of you."
Sam nods a little, giving her a half-smile for understanding the strong relationship that he has with Dean before his urge to get something off his chest becomes unbearable to withhold, "Ruby listen, I don't know what I've been doing is right. Hell, I don't even know if I trust you."
"Thanks," Ruby replies, a little pissed that he would say something like that after everything's she done for him before and during Dean's time in Hell, causing her to cross her arms over her chest, a feat that Sam's grown all too familiar with.
"But what I do know is that I'm saving people, and stopping demons. And that feels really good," he shows off a real smile this time, his beautiful, hazel eyes clashing with it, proving to her that he really means what he's saying and it makes her feel good too, only a little bit, but she doesn't show it. She just nods and takes her seat back on the bed.
"I want to keep going."
Before their discussion can go any further, Ruby suddenly hastens to the door, opening it and peering out to the left before looking back, "I can hear Dean coming. I guess we'll continue where we left off another time."
Noticing that her jacket's still on the chair where she took it off because it was too damn hot in the room, Sam jumps up and grabs it, "Hey Ruby you forgot your --," but when he turns his gaze back to where she's standing, she's already gone, like a ninja into the night. Hearing the music booming from within the Impala just outside, Sam hurries in hiding the jacket in case Dean recognises it, shoving it into one of the drawers that they aren't using, praying to God that Dean doesn't have a notion to look in there for something.
"Honey, I'm home," Dean teases, always wanting to say that, holding the bag of goodies with both hands up against his chest as he shuts the door with his heel. Sam had managed to shut the drawer and jump on the bed before Dean even entered the room. Placing the bag carefully on the table he thumbs back to the door, "Why was that left open?"
"Oh," Sam starts, thinking fast about what to say before Dean gets suspicious, "I was about to salt the door and windows before I had to go to the bathroom," he lies, always feeling guilty when he does.
Dean closed his eyes, arches his head back and lets out a groan, just realizing that he too had forgot to salt the room, which was practically the No.1 Rule in the "Guide to being the Perfect Hunter" manual, if there was one that is, "Oh I can't believe I forgot. Do you mind? It's just that I'm dying for a pee!" Dean then disappears into the bathroom, hearing the bolt click to signify that he's locked it.
Taking out the salt from their supplies, Sam applies it on every windowsill and underneath the door before something catches the corner of his eye, the bag that's sitting on the table. Knowing that curiosity killed the cat he nevertheless treads softly towards it, wanting to know exactly what's been bought before Dean's voice booming from the bathroom stops him in his tracks, "And if you're even thinking of looking in the bag, you can say goodbye to your Valentine's Day present!"
Sam couldn't help but smirk, "You got me a present? I thought you said that now wasn't the time for that?"
There's silence from both sides until the sound of running water and Dean unbolting the door interrupts it. He stands underneath it leaning against the doorframe in just a towel, which's wrapped loosely around his toned waist and hanging dangerously short, "Well, that was back at the mine when we were on the job, now we're recuperating so it counts," he then thumbs in the direction of the shower, "Wanna take that shower before hitting the hay?"
Sam swerves round and nods at the bag on the table, "What about the food?"
"Ah," he waves it away, "We'll have it for breakfast," before beckoning Sam into the bathroom, "Now come on, time's a wastin'." To entice him even more Dean turns his back on him before looking over his shoulder, smirking as he pulls at the fold in the towel, letting it drop to the floor and letting Sam get the full view of his "Golden Globes" before disappearing behind the shower curtain.
Thinking back to what Ruby had said earlier, Or have you been using your downstairs brain instead of the one in your head? It clearly was an insult but Sam had to smile at it anyway, Like Dean said, we're recuperating so it counts, right? Not questioning it any further he pulls his t-shirt over his head, flinging it somewhere to his left before stepping out of his boxers, which were already down to his ankles, closing the bathroom door behind him.
After their shower together, Dean and Sam decide that they'll just sleep as the hunt really did tire them out and they'll need all the rest they can get to finish the job when they wake up. Now fast asleep, with Sam enveloped within Dean's protective embrace, the older Winchester stirs in his sleep as his dream quickly turns into a nightmare; witnessing flashes of himself in his time in Hell but can't quite make them out…
…(flash)…He blinks to try to clear the blood away from his eyes as it slowly drips down his face…(flash)…Blood-curdling screams deafen his ears as he tries desperately to blank them out…(flash)…He can't hear his own screaming as the torturing continues before…
"Ugh! No!" Dean cries out, bolting upwards, expecting to find that he's just woken up Sam but quickly notices that he's not on his side of the bed and that it's morning already. The Sun beaming in through the window making sure of that.
"Sam?" The sound of his little brother washing his face in the bathroom relieves him of the anxiety that was welling up inside and climbs out of bed. Little does he know that if he had woken up a little sooner, he would've heard Sam literally puke his entire guts out. After stretching out his muscles, Dean scratches the back of his head and just underneath his belly-button before Sam greets him with a cheerful, "Morning Dean."
"Mornin' Sammy. I see that you're feeling better."
"All thanks to you and your magic fingers last night," he replies, passing by him on his way to the bed to get changed into some new clothes as Dean enters the bathroom, wanting to relieve himself first before he devours the food he bought last night as his stomach's practically screaming out to be fed.