A Lazarus Rising coda written before I Know What You Did Last Summer. Someone asked me to come up with a reason for why Ruby was mostly naked in Sam's room that did not involve them having sex. This is what I came up with.
It takes her two days to find Sam. Not that he's particularly hard to find, 'cause Sam lights up the whole damn world like a star going nova, but she's a little beat to hell from Lilith and finding a body worth possessing, one with pretty hair and pouty lips and just enough hip to make Dean keep glancing down, well, that's hard.
It sort of feels like she's got a Lilith sized hole keeping her from being useful. By the time she finds her next body, heals enough to possess it, and puts on decent clothes, you'd have to be blind, death, dumb, and human not to know that Lilith was running scared.
Served the bitch right.
"Hey," she says. She glances down at the white knuckled grip he's got on her knife and takes a couple prudent steps back.
"Go away, Ruby," Sam says softly.
The place he's chosen to bury Dean is nice. Classy, in a kind of nothing alive around for miles way. The amount of shit he's already put up to defend the body is kind of makin' her skin twitch, so she takes another healthy step backwards.
"You want to brood in peace, Sam? I get that, but right now is probably not the best time for you to go all emo. Lilith's on the run."
The glare Sam sends her could peal paint. "What good are you?" he asks, lowdown and dangerous. He braces his hands on his knees and pushes himself to his feet, towering over her.
She can't really take another step back, wouldn't even if she could. She's not scared of Sam. "Well, I can actually track her," she says lightly, "Which is more than what you're doing."
"You couldn't even--" Sam cuts himself off and laughs, one hand going up to clutch at the side of his head. He sounds like she feels, like he's swallowed a moutful of shrapnel and it's busy tearing him up on the inside.
Good. Might actually make him smart now, get rid of all those high and mighty morals.
"Oh, that's right, blame it on me," she sneers back at him. She almost wants to spit on Dean's grave because if anyone's to blame for all this shit, it's Dean. This wouldn't have happened if Dean had actually let her teach Sam like she was supposed to.
But blamin' her dead charge's brother is probably a one way ticket to, well, death via her own goddamn pointy weapon, so. Go for the next best thing.
"Listen, Sam, I'm not the one who waited a whole goddamn year before I decided I maybe should try out that demon psychic thing."
Sam's hand tightens on her knife. Ruby just gives him a wide, nasty smile and lets her true self shine out of this meat puppet's eyes. "So, yeah. Blame me. But we all know who's fault this really is."
Oh, she loves a boy with a guilt complex.
Insert Ruby and Sam hunting hijinks here. I never got around to doing so, sorry. Picks up again in the first episode.
"Where're my clothes?" she asks Sam.
He stands there holding the door for a second, then closes it with a sigh. "In my duffle. You're not the same girl, Ruby, they're not gonna fit."
"Do you know anything about girl's clothes, Spanky? No? Then shut up." She throws her hair behind her shoulders, glad that it's long again. She's gotten used to a lot of shit from this century, likes the slinky tops and the too tight bottoms, but she's never going to understand the reason women cut their hair so short.
Sam tosses his bag to her.
She rips her shirt off, because it's disgusting. Her new body'd been too busy hacking up a lung and shooting herself up to bother fighting off a demon. Still. Gross. "I'm startin' to see why your brother was so annoyed with you all the time, Sam. Anyone ever tell you you should leave a note or call before you go splitsville on them?"
"It's not like you can't find me," he says. He's scrubbing his face with his hands when she looks up. They're leaving tracks of dirt and decaying human slop in their wake. "The demons--"
"The ones we've been tracking."
A huge sigh. Ruby smirks behind her hair and paws through the freakishly neat rolls of Sam's clothes. Honestly, Sam's so easy sometimes.
She finds one of her undershirts and throws it on the bed. One down. Five or six pieces to go.
"The demons we've been tracking suddenly took off. And Dean's grave's been... disturbed."
Yeah, she figured that's what the cadaver smell was from. Well, she was hoping that it was from something huge and Dean related and not from Sam deciding he'd had enough with trying with the live ones.
"Disturbed how?" she asks. She finds a pair of panties and slings them at Sam's head just for the hell of it.
He doesn't even look at her before he tosses them back. Spoilsport. "There's no Dean in it."
Oh, ew. She can give him about twenty different reasons there might be for a damned's body to be dug up, but she's pretty sure he knows most of them. If it's a human who did it, they're gonna be inside out and strung up by their intestines before they know what's coming for them.
"And?" she asks. Gotta be more than that. She finds her bra, fuckin' finally, and unwraps it from around Sam's socks.
"Trees were flattened. Dead animals all over the place." There's a noise like he's picking at the dirt under his nails. "Whatever it is..."
"Pretty bad freakin' mojo," she says.
He's looking at the ceiling when she looks up, which she thinks is sort of sweet in a misguided way. She doesn't have a bra on, but it's not like these are her knockers and she's nice enough that her host is taking a long, long nap instead of watching the proceedings.
Her damn boobs aren't fitting into her bra cups. She'd thought she'd picked somebody with the same measurements as the last body, but apparantly not. Dammit.
"Yeah," Sam says while she tries to put her boobs in her bra. "I want to know what kind."
He doesn't ask her to go. She's pretty sure he honestly doesn't think she has anything better to do, or anything she wants, and sometimes that chafes pretty damn hard. Sure, she's a demon, but she was human once too.
Still, there are worse overlords to work for, evil or otherwise.
"Get me pizza before I go," she says, giving up on the bra. She's got another one in here, for when she's got bigger boobs than normal, but, dammit, she likes this one. It's pretty. She throws it on Sam's bed and pulls on her undershirt.
"Ruby..."
"No, Sam. Seriously." Ruby puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head, getting used to the swish of heavier, darker hair. "I have puke taste in my mouth right now, my boobs are too big for my favorite bra, and you smell like your decomposing brother. Get me some damn pizza before I go."