End of the Tour
The older Winchester wiped the sweat from his brow as he sat up after being underneath the Impala for over an hour. Sam and Bobby had reluctantly gone out for supplies and groceries leaving Dean to his own devices. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for Bobby and Sam, but after being back for nearly a month Dean was getting antsy for some alone time. The two other hunters had respected Dean's privacy, but being respected was a far distance from the quiet solitude of being by yourself.
So Dean was using the opportunity to return to what he knew best next to hunting – which was taking care of his car. Not up to the strength he had been before he had been killed, Dean was getting quite the workout simply by working on the car and baking under the late August sun.
He had to hand it to the kid, at least Sam did a halfway decent job at keeping the old girl in shape the almost ten months Dean had been in hell. But she did have some wear and tear, in need of some tender, loving care. He patted her on the hood, she just missed him, that was all.
Wiping his hands on the cleanest towel he had, Dean started to shuffle back to the old farmhouse to get a beer. Remembering that the small group of hunters was out of that necessary food group, Dean frowned before looking back at the car. He grinned wickedly and trouped over to pick up the hose and turn the spiket.
Holding the end of the hose over his head he allowed the lukewarm water to drench him from head to toe. He didn't care that he was wearing a nice pair of jeans or that he was wearing his boots and socks… the hunter was just glad for the feel of water running down his neck and back. He lifted his face upwards and let the water splash his forehead and spray on his dry, chapped lips.
Sam had joked over a week ago that if he knew Dean liked the water so much he would've brought him back as a dolphin. Dean had replied sarcastically that he'd still get more tail than his little brother.
But the darker thoughts that clouded Dean's mind told him that his newfound affinity for water had sprung from the lack of it from his time in hell.
Pressing his thumb on the head of the nozzle he made a quick makeshift pressure washer and aimed it at his car. The water droplets glinted in the sun and the fine mist made a rainbow shimmer before his eyes. He knew he probably should give her a better wash than just a spray of water but his bones were tired and he really only wanted to get the dust off her.
After shutting off the sprocket, Dean gathered up the hose into a loose bundle and dripping wet went inside Bobby's house.
He walked into the small bathroom near his and Sam's upstairs bedroom and shed his clothes before stepping into the shower. In his head he debated just sitting in the tub and letting the water but in the end he washed up quickly and went back into he and Sam's room.
Dean pulled up his boxers and jeans and was just about to button up a plaid shirt when he heard a quick series of knocks. He looked at the window and saw an all too familiar blonde squatting by the window frame on the Bobby's porch roof.
"Ruby?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Last time he had seen it turned out it was actually Lilith in Ruby's host in order to collect on Dean's soul and kill Sam if she could. Well, he supposed the last time he had seen her she had been underneath a devil's trap after he kicked her ass.
"In the flesh," she shrugged.
"Not your flesh…" he replied dangerously, opening the window to look at her better, making sure not to disturb the salt lining the sill.
She frowned. "She was dead anyway, did her catatonic ass a favor by taking her for a spin."
He glared at her behind the windowsill.
"You gonna let me in?"
"No," he answered flatly.
She gave him a contemplative look and took a moment before concluding, "Yeah, I probably deserved that. I want my knife back."
"You're not getting that knife back sweetheart," giving her a cocky grin. He made to close the window when she reached over the salt line with her hand and grabbed his shirt. Dean looked down worriedly at her grip, red welts appearing on her skin and blood started to bubble out of small cuts.
"Please," she begged, her voice breaking, "You can have it back after I'm done."
She released him and pulled her arm back quickly, holding it against her chest gingerly. Dean studied her closely, and the demon seemed a little worse for wear, which worried him. Despite not remembering his ordeal in hell, he had tiny bit of sympathy for the demon who was shaking like a leaf on his roof.
"What happened to you Ruby?" He asked softly.
Her face turned into an angry scowl, "I tried to help the Winchester double mint twins… after Lilith stole my body she…" She paused and continued, "I've done some really bad things… but I've never had to deal alright? I can't feel remorse or pity or guilt about them…"
He opened the window the whole way and crawled through, shaking slightly before gaining his balance. "It's in the job description," Dean conceded, folding his arms across chest.
"Well guess what sunshine, Lilith decided to make me feel. Everything. And I'm not good with that new-age crap and touchy feely bullshit."
Dean gave her a small condescending grin, "Welcome to the club, but I'm hardly a shoulder cry on." He paused, looking past her contemplatively and saying rhetorically, "If demons even can cry, not sure on that one."
"Funny asshole…" she spat. She clenched her hand open and closed delicately as the cuts on her forearm closed over. "You think you know pain Dean? You think you've seen it with Daddy sacrificing himself for you? Having Sammy die in your arms? Imagine being abused and raped and watching your child ripped from you and killed and having to be burned alive… Think of about that and multiply it by half a millennia."
"Oh cry yourself a river, build a bridge and get over it," he replied venomously. "You don't know what I've been through…"
"You know I actually know more about you than you think," she sad smugly. She gave him a conniving smile when he looked at her in confusion. "Oh I spent a good amount of time in hell too Dean," she explained, "I know my way around the neighborhood and let's just say I dropped by to see you on more than one occasion to see the my little dead and damned friend. Hell was not kind to you Dean…"
"So what? We sang the Cure and wrote emo poetry together then you had your way with me? Thanks doll, but I'm not buying whatever bull you're trying to shove down my throat." Dean kicked a small pebble off of Bobby's roof and looked at his companion. "So are you done here?" He asked.
She blinked at the harsh light, before frowning darkly, and planting herself on Bobby's roof. "I looked for you for what seemed like ages, and you were broken when I had found you. I…" She looked downward and didn't continue.
Dean took a seat next to her and together they sat in silence for a minute. Dean could sense an underlying familiarity to the situation. Warm wind picked up loose strands of blonde hair and it tickled his face and even though it was warm – something he had grown to loath and even fear - the feeling was comfortable and Dean thought that maybe he had finally shaken any remaining bonds hell had on him. "Gotta find the queen of all my dreams?" he whispered as her shoulder leaned up against his.
"You think it's cute quoting Zepplin?" She asked incredulously not looking at him. Instead, she stared straight up at the sky, adjusting her body so now it was her head rested in the crook of his lap and she danced her fingers on the damp fabric of his shirt clinging to his chest.
He leaned back and used his arms as a pillow for his head. The heat off the shingles prickled on his arms. He had done this song and dance before, the feeling of déjà vu bristled through his being. "Have we been here before?" He asked softly.
"So when I was in hell…?"
"It wasn't all fire and brimstone. Demons cling to any sort of comfort they can find in the pit. I had you." She crawled up his body so her soft breasts pressed up against him and she wrapped her arm around his body. Her face close to Dean she whispered, "That little fallen angel on your shoulder."
Sulfur lingered in her breath and Dean had to look away.
"I need… I needed someone who would care, because feeling like this…" She sighed when he looked away from her. He didn't say anything and she rested her head onto his broad chest. "This… guilt thing sucks."
"Why do you want your knife back Ruby?"
She pressed against him and lifted herself off his chest. Looking him straight in the eye she asked, "Can't you tell? I'm sick of it, and want it to end. You're out of hell, so who do I have to go back to if Lilith has her way?" She paused, "I can't help you or Sam anymore, and you can't save me. I'd rather face nonexistence than have to live for eternity with what I've done… without you there beside me."
"You can't just kill yourself Ruby, that doesn't really…"
"I don't want to go back to hell."
"There are… ways…" Dean struggled, "I mean, Sam bailed me out, I'm sure we can find a way to…"
"Kiddo, I've been what I am longer than your great, great something was a twinkle in their parent's eyes, and no amount of Hail Marys or the Lord's Prayer is going to prevent me from ending up right where I belong. Trust me, you'd be doing me a favor. I haven't slept since the night I was murdered, and all I want is to simply not wake up to this nightmare anymore." He remained expressionless, stoically trying to work out her request so she leaned in and kissed him and he eagerly returned it, forgetting the fact she was a demon. For the moment they were two lost souls, broken and tarnished, but they shared the common bond of death and hellfire.
She returned to her original position and began to massage Dean's chest in small rhythmic circles. Ruby watched as Dean surrendered to a calm sleep and she smiled, for all the things she had done she was determined to the do right by the one soul that had reached out to her, at least until she didn't have to be anymore. He'd come through for her – he wouldn't tell Sam, that much she was sure of, but at least… maybe in the end of all things he'd decide to join her too.
Distantly, Dean heard the sound of Bobby's Camaro rolling in from the road, heralding the older hunter's and his brother's return. He sat up abruptly, although careful not to jostle Ruby. Dean looked down and was surprised that the demon had vanished into the dusty summer air, as though she hadn't been there in the first place.
"Dude!" Sam called out to his brother, who was curiously sitting on the roof of Bobby's porch. "What are you doing up there?"
Before Dean could respond Bobby barked, "Get down here and help your brother and I with this stuff. And if I find your little siesta damaged my roof you'll be fixing it!"
The oldest Winchester scratched his head, looking around once more for Ruby although the demon was probably long gone, if she had been there at all and not just a figment of Dean's dream. He knew it was for the best not to mention the demon's visit to Sam, due to the fact he was had been in Super Sam mode since Dean's return and catching knowledge of a demon, any demon, would probably set him off.
He waved to the two other hunters, "Be down in a sec Sammy!"
A/N: Really this was a continuance of the song drabble "The End of the Tour" by They Might Be Giants. Why? Because I'm a Dean/Ruby fan. I'm not much of a shipper but I like the idea behind Dean/Ruby. Take a look at my story "Shotgun Shuts His Cakehole" for the original. Yay! Look to see an Mad World update this week and then maybe Equinox because the chapter just isn't doing what I want it to.