Are they mine? Can you hear me laughing? I wish.

Ruby recognized the car the moment she drove by. It was a midnight black Impala she and Anna had ridden in. She remembered a pair of green eyes looking at her and the red headed angel, a deep voice saying, "It's just an angel and a demon riding in the backseat. It's like the setup to a bad joke. Or a penthouse forum letter." Slamming on her brakes, her car squealed to a halt.

She watched the Impala, waiting for the Winchesters to appear. She knew for a fact that Dean couldn't dare part with the vehicle longer than he had to. She waited for twenty minutes before pulling her vehicle off the road. She kept the car idling, there was no point in shutting it off. It technically wasn't hers-she needed a vehicle, some moron left his 2008 Mustang unlocked, she stole it.

Walking across the street, looking both ways for oncoming traffic (the vehicles wouldn't kill her, but if one hit her it would hurt like hell), she stopped next to the Impala. Ruby placed her hand on the hood, noticing how cool it was to the touch.

She couldn't quite determine how long it had been since it was last driven, probably a good three or four hours, but she knew one thing: The Winchesters were in trouble, again. She walked away from the car, heading into a stretch of woods. Not far down the dirt path was a small shack. The door looked like it had been kicked in, probably Dean's work. Ruby continued toward the door, wishing now more than ever she had her knife that Sam had conveniently "borrowed" and lost.

She poked her head into the small shack, looking around the wrecked interior. It probably wasn't in good shape to begin with, but the Winchesters hadn't helped matters much. Ruby walked into the small, singled room shack, expecting to see a couple of unconscious, yet no longer possessed people, but instead found an inhabit-less area. There was a familiar cell phone laying, discarded, by a fireplace (that hadn't been used in what seemed like forever). She picked it up, scrolling through the contacts list, Dean's number was the first on the list.

"Sam, where are you?" she muttered looking at the phone. In that moment of weakness, the one rookie mistake she could have made by keeping her back to the door, she didn't hear the footsteps behind her. Never having time, or the warning, to fight she was succumbed to darkness as something heavy collided with the back of her skull.

When she woke up it was to see a familiar face staring at her. She didn't want to see his green eyes, she didn't want to see his ruggedly handsome face, hell she didn't want to see him at all, but Dean Winchester's face was the one she was stuck with.

"If you were attempting to get me out of here, you suck," he commented trying to insult her. It didn't work real well, his voice unmistakably shaking.

"Shut up," Ruby snapped sitting up. Her head spun slightly, the dizziness making her momentarily ill, then it passed. She had been lying on a cot, in the middle of a dully lit, windowless room. Dean had backed away from her, sliding to the floor. He looked paler than normal, a tad less focused. He had bright red burn marks on his chest, visible through his holey gray tee-shirt. There was blood in his hair, he had a black eye, and looked a little strange without his shaggy haired brother next to him.

"Where's Sam?" was the first thing Ruby asked.

"Not here," Dean answered in a monotone.

"Where are we?" the second thing.

"No idea." The same monotone answered.

"Who has us?" Deep down she already knew, but she wasn't sure. It would suck if he did have them; their last encounter wasn't exactly Ruby's favorite memory.

"Alastair," Dean replied quietly. He had his eyes permanently glued to the floor. It had to be killing him to be back in the clutches of the demon that had made hell the living hell that it was. Boy that didn't make much sense, Ruby thought. It didn't feel quite right to be sympathizing with Dean-truth be told she didn't really like Dean much, but she did feel some pity for him.

"He didn't kill Sam, did he?" Ruby needed to know where Sam was. He was the only Winchester who didn't flinch at the sight of her. Of course, it was against him and Dean and Dean had been raised to take out anything evil.

"Why do you care?" Dean's eyes shot up, staring daggers at Ruby. She put her hands up in surrender and mumbled, "I don't, but I was thinking you might." It was a lie, a small one, but why did Dean need to know.

Before Dean could say or do anything the door opened and a demon walked in. He was a huge guy, maybe in his thirties, and could have crushed anyone just by gripping them too tightly. Ruby hated the demons that had to show "major authority" by possessing body builders. Without even looking at Ruby he sent her flying into the wall. She was pinned, unable to move. She watched as the demon grabbed Dean by the arm and yanked him to his feet.

"Ava wants to see you," he said and half pulled, half dragged a resistant Dean out of the room. Not much it did the hunter; he just wasn't as strong as his captor. When the door closed Ruby was able to move again. She ran toward the door, trying to open it. The thing was two-hundred pounds of solid metal; there was no way she was getting out of it. She could try to get someone's attention and use her powers, but what good would it do if Alastair appeared and killed her.

Okay Sam, if ever a time to come for your brother, now would be a great time, she thought as she walked away from the door, sinking down onto the cot's mattress. For now she just had to wait, and hope no demon decided to cut her open again. Yeah, I doubt they'll forget me. Sam hurry.

SUPERNATURAL

The oversized meathead, or Dean's escort, chained him to the wall again. The chains clinked softly as he moved his wrist.

"Don't move," the demon said and walked out of the room. It was on of those times he actually wished he carried a paperclip or something similar. He could have been out of the chains in seconds, and possibly out the door. Oh, who are you kidding, a small voice said in the back of his mind, you wouldn't make it out of here even if there were signs pointing the way out.

Stop it, he snapped back.

Why? Are you too scared to face the fact? Do you honestly think Sam will find you without getting killed himself?

"Shut up," he muttered to the voice. It was the same voice that he had heard everyday in hell. The same voice that sapped up all his hope and finally made him agree to Alastair's offer. Before he could dwell on it anymore the door opened.

Ava had not only changed her jeans and black blouse for a short, red, strapless dress and knee high leather boots, but also her skin. No longer the brunette, she was now a short, perky blond. She had put the blonde's hair up in a pony tail that fell down her back. The blonde's blue eyes swept across Dean's body.

"I thought I'd dress up for this occasion," she said softly, still looking Dean over.

"And the blonde was necessary," Dean muttered glad to hear his voice wasn't trembling. It was bad enough to show weakness in front of Ruby, but in front of Ava was not an option.

"I thought you'd like a blonde. Besides, blondes have more fun," Ava said with a slight shrug. She drifted toward Dean, her ponytail swishing back and forth as she walked, her boots clicking on the cement floor.

"I wouldn't say that, some blondes are just too stupid to have fun." He regretted saying the sentence the moment he said it. It wasn't because he insulted Ava, Alastair's words ringing in his ear, but because his mother was a blonde. He felt like he was insulting her and not the blonde, bimbo demon in front of him.

Ava didn't see the regret on his face, years of hiding his emotions helped Dean out, so she took his sentence as an insult. She slammed her fist into his face, splitting his lip. Blood ran out of the wound, onto his chin. Dean ignored it, knowing he had had worse.

"That was mean Winchester, very mean. Now, I was supposed to pull your teeth for being mean… I have the tool right here." she walked away from Dean, out of his line of sight, to the table Alastair had used earlier. She returned seconds later carrying a pair of pliers.

"Now, I could just as easily let your rudeness slip if you do something for me," Ava said softly stroking the pliers. She had cocked her head, giving Dean a questioning look.

"What's that?" Dean asked trying to keep his eyes off the pliers. They were a standard tool, something he used himself; he didn't want to think how much damage they could do.

"Beg."

"What?"

"Beg. Beg for me to not harm you, and I'll let your rudeness slide. Beg and we can continue our date without losing a tooth. What do you say, Dean?"

"No," he said quietly. He was not about to throw all his dignity away for some demon. If she had to take his teeth, than take his teeth. He wanted so much to believe he didn't care, that he was as stubborn as everyone said he was, but when Ava drew near him something snapped. She was inches from his mouth, the pliers almost touching his teeth, when he realized he couldn't do it. "No, wait stop," he begged. "D…don't, please don't."

"Are you begging Dean?"

"Y…yes, I'm begging, please don't." it was humiliating, it was wrong, what he had resorted to. His father would have ripped him a new one, Sam would have called him a coward, but he didn't want Ava to follow Alastair's orders. He just couldn't take the pain of having all thirty-two teeth yanked out, he wouldn't survive it.

"Okay, I forgive you," she said pulling the pliers away. She stepped away from him, walking back to the weapons table. Even out of sight she still spoke, "Let's get this date going. I was thinking we'd start out by cutting you, very slowly, down your arms." She was back, carrying the same knife Alastair used on him before. His blood was still on the knife, dry but still there.

"Doesn't that sound fun," Ava whispered as she ever so gently sliced open Dean's arm. Blood slowly dripped from the new wound, Dean made no noise. "After that," Ava continued cutting him again, "we'll see where the night takes us." She continued to slice his arms, the wounds never fatal, but still deep enough to drip blood. When there were exactly thirteen perfectly, parallel cuts on both arms Ava said, "I think that's plenty." Dean waited for her to take the knife back to the table, but instead she plunged it into his thigh, straight to the bone. He couldn't help it, he cried out in pain, "SON OF A BITCH!"

"That's my boy," Ava muttered walking away from him. She was back at her table, which gave Dean enough time to mumble more swear words. He could feel his blood leaking out of the wound, knew it would pour if-and when-Ava pulled the knife out.

He shut up when she returned her hands behind her back. She was wearing a solemn expression, almost like she was about to regret her next move. "Now, Dean, I'm happy you screamed. It was like music to my ears, but we have a zero tolerance swearing rule. So, I'm going to have to punish you." she reacted so fast Dean barely saw it coming. She pulled her hands back into focus, a hammer in the left one, and slammed the tool directly into Dean's chained wrist. His wrist broke on impact, causing him to scream again.

"Sorry, Dean, but I had to," Ava said sadly walking back to the table. There were tears of pain in Dean's eyes; they slowly fell down his face. He didn't know how much more he could take. His vision blurred slightly with the pain, but he managed to stay conscious.

"Isn't this a fun date," Ava commented appearing in his line of vision again. Her hands were empty, which made Dean breathe a sigh of relief. Anymore of her company could kill him. "I need this," she said softly and yanked the knife out of his leg. White hot pain pulsed through his veins, causing his vision to blur again. Instead of struggling to stay conscious he let blackness overwhelm him and he was out.