paradisalost | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Ruby & Dean Winchester.
What: THE Talk.
When: Tuesday night.
Where: Dean's room.
Rating: R (It's Dean, he might get violent, or swear happy)

It made perfect logical sense. Lie through their teeth, pray he never found out, or went home, and then just explain when they were ready to. The main issue with that though, was that the truth was all around them. The journal, the past, all the things Dean had done and said in the past were all in those damn pages, and Ruby knew it. Why Dean had opted to leave himself in the dark was his own business. It did sort of go a bit against what she thought Dean would do, but then again the last time he'd been there he locked away all the memories of Hell and then some.

Maybe it was better this way, but Ruby was being selfish. It was a pattern really, and she fell into it all the time. Things were better for her if she did this. If Dean died, he'd go to Hell, and then she'd come back and Sam would need her. It was selfish of her. It was probably wrong, well there was no probably about it. Things were good for them. Dean and her went out drinking, Sam and him were in the midst of a prank war, and Sam was actually somewhere close to being the happiest he'd been in a while.

Yet here she was leaning against the wall across the hall from his door, about to walk over there and possibly ruin it all. Just so she could feel better about it all, so that the truth was out there and not stuck waiting to slip out. It was funny, because that guy was telling her she was dealing in sex and lust to feel better, and if she could just use that to make Dean okay with her being a demon she still wouldn't do it. Using sex and lust was easy, but the truth and facing reality was difficult.

The truth though, was that it was so that she'd feel better and she wouldn't feel like the friendship they had was based on the fact that he didn't know. Moving forward she knocked on his door, wondering if she'd end up spending another two weeks in the black, or if she was about to ruin the most healthy Dean and Sam's relationship has been in at last three years.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Dean hadn't been expecting company, but then again, he hadn't exactly been keeping an eye on the journals the last couple of days, either. He'd been too wrapped up in trying to sort through the stack of pictures and videos he'd managed to track down, littering the Castle from when it had turned his memories into tangible things, and decide what he wanted to keep.

Some things, like the tape of his father attacking him and Sam, his eyes a wicked yellow, were getting burned. Others, like sneaking that fish into the Ghost Chaser's car, were getting framed and mounted on his wall, replacing the cheap paintings the Castle had given him when he'd decided that his room needed to look like one of the motels had stayed in. And he'd been in the process of deciding what stayed and what went up in flames when the knock at the door came.

Frowning, he shot a glance in that direction, and then he was leaning across the bed to grab his gun off the nightstand. He gave it a once over, making sure it was loaded just in case, and slipped it under a stack of photos he'd spread out on the comforter. He was probably being paranoid, the only people who knew where he was the people he cared about, but old habits died hard, and he didn't want to be caught with his pants down if some psycho with a super power was on the other side of the door.

Stranger things had happened, after all. Both here and at home.

He offered a small, wry smile to no one in particular at the thought, and then he scooted back on the bed a bit, pressing his shoulders against the headboard. Then, once he was settled, he refocused his attentions on the door, calling out to whoever was on the other side. "It's open!"

There was a bit of a delay between the sound of her knocking and the sound of him telling her that it was open. There were a few things he could've been doing that would've accounted for the delay, but she tried to push away any of the thoughts that she was about to walk into something she was going to need to scrub from her memories.

Opening the door she was relieved to see him just resting on his bed. Shaking her head a bit she laughed beneath her breath, "Well at least you're alive. I was a bit worried, I mentioned opening a strip club in the city and I was shocked you weren't signing yourself up for my business partner."

He flashed her a sheepish grin, relaxing a bit at the sight of a familiar face. "I thought about it," he answered honestly, "but then I sort've remembered I knew jack crap about business. And isn't there, like, some rule about touchin' the merchandise of a place you own or somethin'?"

He had at least seen that much in the journal, when he'd glanced at it earlier.

Edited 2009-09-23 22:40 (UTC)

Laughing she made her way across the room, dragging the chair from the desk out so she could take a seat, "Yeah, I guess I'd have to keep you tied up or something. It wouldn't be good for business to have the top paying client also part owner."

Exhaling she leaned forward, feeling the memory in her back pocket. It was a video of Sam asking her who she was, and her pretty much showing her cards. It was just one small part of the puzzle of what all Dean didn't know, and it wasn't right that they were always keeping things from him. Just because it was here, and not there, shouldn't matter when it came to these things.

"Look I didn't actually come here to talk to you about my newest business venture. I mean I did," Ruby sighed, trying to figure out how far to take this.

"I know that you and Sam are from different points in time, and there's a lot ahead of you that we've already been through. One of those things is me, and why I know you guys."

Glancing to Dean she tried to see if he was getting tense, knowing she was opening up something that either he wanted to know about, or didn't.

"The thing is, the truth is in the journals, and in the entries you've written before. I can only think that you don't go and read them, because you're not ready to know. I get it, trust me, I get it a lot more than you might think, because sometimes the future sucks, and if you're going to live it out eventually, why bother with the pre-season."

Standing up Ruby pulled the memory out of her back pocket, "There's just one thing though, that I'd rather you learn from me. From the me that's here, living down the hall with your brother, and hanging with you in the bars. Not the me that's back there, because I'd like to believe that they're different."

Holding it out she hesitated, "I'm not going to be able to give you answers that aren't mine to give, but I can tell you about me, about the things that you won't be able to read in the journals."

Ruby extended her hand and let Dean have the memory, "I mean, if you want to know."

He did tense, though not for perhaps the reasons she thought. He didn't mind the truth, despite the fact that he hadn't gone look for it himself -- what bothered him was the fact that he thought he had it, and the way she put that made him think twice about that. Sam, his father, Castiel -- he'd talked to them all about Ruby at one point or another and if she had preambled all of this with talking about the truth, then they'd lied to him. And that bothered him.

Jaw steeling, he considered the video for an instant before snapping his eyes up to her, reaching for it slowly as he did so. "I put this in, I'm gonna wanna kick Sam's ass after, aren't I?"

She laughed, though it was a bit nervous, as she shrugged, "I think the two of you have beaten each other up enough to be honest, but it's difficult to talk about some of these things is all."

Taking in a deep breath she exhaled it slowly, "Being here, meeting the people I have, being taken off the road, so to speak. I've been more on the side of telling people the truth, before they go back and find out themselves, because I really don't like what they're going to find back there, and there's nothing I can do to change it."

"How long've you been sleepin' with Sammy?" he asked, something near sarcasm in his voice. If it had been any length of time, anything like near what he assumed based on the way his brother talked about her, she should know that Winchesters weren't known for their conversational skills. Something came up one of them was pissed about, and it generally came to blows.

"Don't answer that," he amended after a moment, in case she hadn't picked up on the fact that it was a rhetorical question.

A pause followed, and then he was sighing, pushing up from the bed to move over to the TV to pop the tape in the VCR. And snatching the remote off of the top of the television where he'd left it, he moved back over to the bed and his hidden gun, eyes fixed on her as he sat back down. "You wanna sit here and watch me watch this?"

Even if she was supposed to answer that she couldn't actually figure out what answer to give him. They had the time back home, plus the time here in the castle, which Ruby actually didn't count as the same thing. Complicated was an understatement.

"If you want me to leave, I can, but I think I'd rather be here. Just in case, you feel the need to react. I mean Sam knows I'm doing this since it's his memory, but it's still my choice, and it's still about me."

Narrowly avoiding the urge to tell her that it was her funeral -- it couldn't be that bad, could it? -- he took a deep breath. He held it for a moment, and then he was letting it out a sigh, nodding. "Right, okay. Stick around. We'll see how this goes."

That said, he flicked the tape on and watched as the scene unfolded, the tension in his shoulders growing with every passing second. And when he finished, he looked up at her angrily, steel lacing his jaw. "You have got to be fucking kidding me." Not friggen -- fucking. This was too damn screwed up not to swear. He'd made BFFs with a demon and no one had bothered to tell him.

Ruby was actually surprised he didn't start off with Latin. He could've tried to send her packing, but then again she wasn't actually sure what would happen during that. Her arms were folded across her chest, for once a defensive movement, rather than being pissed off. A hand rubbed against her upper arm for a moment, watching him.

"When you first showed up, you didn't know me. It wasn't as if Sam felt like he could mention it right away. He called me his girlfriend, and if you knew what I was? I didn't like lying to you, but I was selfish, I kind of liked that you didn't want to stab me every time I saw you."

"Yeah, well, hate to break it to you, sweetheart -- " Where the term of endearment had been used fondly before, there was nothing but sarcasm in his tone now. " -- you and Sammy just fucked that up pretty good. So lemme suggest you get the hell outta my room before I make with the Latin for Dummies."

Honestly, the only reason he hadn't opened with it was because he was trying to piece the exorcism together in his head. Doing it from memory was a hell of a lot harder than it seemed.

Her face fell at that as she nodded, "I get it." Heading toward the door she shrugged, "There wasn't ever going to be a good time to tell you, I know that, but at least I told you before you went home and found out on your own."

Her stomach hurt, lingering there in the door, but she knew that it was too dangerous to just stay. Though, she didn't really know that. Not really.

"Before I go though, you should know that the body I'm in is empty. I mean it's human and I'm possessing it, but it's something the castle gave me. I wasn't exactly going anywhere good when I ended up here." Shaking her head she exhaled, "Probably doesn't make much difference to you, but it did to me."

"Oh, great. Because the fact that you're not body jackin' some poor babe's supposed to make me feel so much better," he hissed in response. "And you know what? It's not even about the fact that you're a damn hell bitch -- " Okay, so that was part of it, but like he'd admit that. " -- it's the fact that you and Sammy fuckin' lied to me. I let you touch my Goddamn car, for Christ's sake!"

"I never lied, you just never asked what I was. It's not exactly a conversation opener, Dean. Also you wouldn't even know about your car if it wasn't for me, and demon or not? You actually got along with me. Don't you think I wanted to tell you? That it made me feel like our getting along was just because you thought I was some hunter that Sam and you met? That this was going to happen the moment I told you?"

She was starting to get frustrated, but she also understood where he was coming from. "I get it, we lied, and it's shitty. You guys lie to each other all the time, and it never gets you anywhere. I could've kept up the lie, I could've kept everyone from telling you for a bit longer, just to be able to still hang out with you, just to make it that the two of you actually got along, and actually were having fun for what - the first time in a long while?"

Exhaling she shrugged, "I'm a demon though, and I'm selfish and I wanted you to know the truth, before you got anymore invested in the life I live here."

"Would've, could've, should've -- still doesn't change the fact that you and Sam didn't say jack to me about this. And yeah, okay, maybe I would've freaked the hell out if you'd have been all, 'Oh, by the way, Dean -- I'm hellspawn,' the second I got here, but I liked you. I trusted you. So much that I stayed away from the damn journals 'cause you and Sammy told me it might be a good idea. And for what?"

He scoffed, shaking his head. "So you could go on boinkin' my brother in your happy little fantasy land, where his brother doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground?" A pause -- not long enough for her to answer, because that, like the question about how long she'd been sleeping with Sam, had been a rhetorical one -- and then, "Well, sweetheart, looks like the party's over. Get out."

"Telling you to not look back, had nothing to do with you finding out about me, and I didn't actually think you'd listen. It had to do with the fact that reading the Cliffs Notes would just tick you off before you even had all the context. So sorry if Sam wanted you to actually have a bit of normal for once."

Taking in a breath she reached into her jacket, pulling out her knife. "This is my knife, emphasis on my knife. It kills demons, not sends them back to hell, or out of their body, but kills them. I've used it to save your ass and Sam's a few times, but if you feel the need to use it on me?" Ruby leaves out the part where she says, again, "Go for it. Do what you feel you need to do so that you have some idea of what the hell to do now that you know I'm a demon and not going anywhere until the castle decides it's my time to go."

Ruby set it down on the dresser, "Or you can bring it back to me. It's your call Dean."

It was a risky move, and she wasn't exactly sure she wouldn't feel it in her back the moment she turned around, but it was what she figured she had to do. The last time Dean killed her he went home, so maybe there's some sort of karmic balance in store for her everytime she dies. Leaving the room she moved back down the hall to Sam, to prepare him for the chance that she might be gone for two weeks, at some random odd time in the future.

"Bitch," he muttered after her. Then he was leaning back into the headboard again, his eyes closed.

He took a moment, trying to remember how to breathe, fingers clenched into fists in his lap, then suddenly, he was darting forward. In an act of fury -- and possibly stupidity, since his loaded gun was still on the bed -- he swept the mess of memories off of the sheets with a growl. He watched in satisfaction as they crumpled to the floor, got to his feet, and moved over to where Ruby had left the knife on the dresser.

For a brief instant, he was half-possessed to go after her -- bitch deserved to die, in his mind -- and then he thought better of it. He'd kill Ruby later; he had a brother and an angel to ream out, first. And that in mind, he stalked over to the journal, flipping it open viciously.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only