AN: Okay, so yeah, this is a sequel to Still Feel You Here, G r a v e s i d e, The Sweetest Sadness In Your Eyes and above and below. If you haven't read those, you might want to because the way they are in this story might not make sense if you haven't read the other stories in the series. Yes, of course this is made for the Katie Cassidy Ruby, the Genevive Cortese Ruby just doesn't work for me.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters.
Wait Until Morning
Written by Becks Rylynn
[part one, make it through this day]
He's back now, he's home, he's with her, they're both trying to heal, they're both trying to be okay, she doesn't sleep in an empty bed anymore, he isn't being burned by the fires of hell, everything is how it should be. He's alive.
But that doesn't mean it's all okay.
That's how long he's been back and she's officially in the middle of a mental break. She thinks she should be starting to heal. She thinks the dreams should have gone away by now. She thinks she shouldn't be afraid to go to sleep anymore. If anything, since he's been back, everything's gotten ten times worse.
At night, she wakes up and finds she's shivering so violently it's making her stomach churn. She doesn't tell him of the dreams, or the fears that haunt her even in her waking moments. She doesn't tell him that whenever he's out of her sight, she's utterly terrified something out there will take him away. She doesn't tell him that at night, when he's asleep beside her, she lies awake, afraid every little noise is something coming to kill him right in front of her. Sometimes, she's so sure that this is all a dream. That in reality, she's somewhere far away, asleep, and he's still six feet under, away from her.
They're irrational fears, she knows this. But that doesn't make them any less terrifying.
It's only a matter of time before he finds out about the dreams, that much is true. One day, she won't be able to hold in her screams any longer.
All her dreams are different. Sometimes it's hell hounds, coming back to get him because there's been a mistake and that stupid angel pulled the wrong damned man out of hell. Sometimes, he simply fades away right in front of her eyes, disappearing like he had never been there at all, leaving behind no trace. Or maybe, sometimes, it's a human danger. A car crash, a random act of violence, hell, even a rare disease. Everything and anything takes him away from her.
But the worst ones, the absolute worst, are the ones where she just can't find him. She knows he's there somewhere, because she keeps hearing his voice whispering in her ear ''I'm here,'' like he's right next to her. No matter how fast she runs, no matter where she goes, she cannot find him.
Thos are the ones that always result in her locking herself in the bathroom, splintering into a million pieces, hiding away because she doesn't want him to see her cry like a pathetic weakling.
Yes, Ruby knows it's only a matter of time before he figures out everything.
In the meantime, she only has three words she has to remember.
Deny, deny, deny.
All these questions. Seems everyone is worried about her.
''Ruby, are you feeling alright?''
''I'm fine, Sam, why do you ask?''
''Ruby, you sound tired, have you been getting enough sleep?''
''Yes, Joey, eight hours every night.''
''Ruby, are you ever going to tell me what's wrong?''
''Don't be ridiculous, Dean, everything's fine.''
''Maybe you should sit this one out.''
''Are those boys feeding you enough?''
''Maybe we should stop somewhere so you can get some rest.''
''You should sit down.''
''You're just getting back on your feet, take it easy for awhile.''
''Goddamn it, woman, will you quit being so stubborn and let me take care of you!''
Good God, why are these men treating her like she's made of fucking glass? She is not a fragile piece of china that's going to break as soon as their backs are turned. How many goddamned times does she have to tell them -
But she's not fine and they all know it.
He is not stupid. He sees a lot more then she gives him credit for.
He watches her sometimes, while she sleeps. She doesn't know this, of course, he makes sure of that. He doesn't do it every night, just when he can't sleep. When he can't sleep, he'll sit in a chair next to the bed of whatever crappy motel room they're in, and he'll watch her sleep. Watch her toss and turn and listen to his own name escape her lips in strangled, haunted moans of anguish.
She thinks he doesn't know, about the dreams. But he knows everything about her, every little bit, every little secret, and at this point in their relationship it would be very difficult to keep something from him.
He's been back for one month now and he still doesn't remember what happened to him while he was in hell. It's probably better that way. He's okay with forgetting, he's not okay with her trying so hard to be alright when she's anything but. He's not okay with her never getting enough sleep because her nightmares are torturing her. So, sometimes, late at night, he sits, and he waits for the screaming to start.
He tells himself it's for her, it's all for her, he has to make sure she doesn't hurt herself when she thrashes violently in the bed. But there's a small part of him, just a tiny little bit, that feels like it's penance.
During the days, when she's awake, he tries not to crowd her, he tries to keep his distance, tries to let her live her own life, but he does worry. He does try to protect her. His overprotective attitude pisses her off, he knows that. He knows she's trying so hard to be strong and okay, like she was before, but she's not the girl she was, she never will be. She's weaker, almost human.
That scares him more than hell ever could.
He doesn't let her fight, he downright refuses to let her help Sam learn to use his powers, he makes sure she eats enough, and he tries to shield her from everything that's out there. Sometimes he feels more like her father then her boyfriend.
One time, they were on a hunt, just a simple haunting and the ghost decided to try and distract them by throwing pillows at them. Pillows. Yeah, it wasn't the smartest supernatural creature they had ever come across. But when those pillows started flying, he threw her to the ground like it was bullets raining down on them, even though he knew for a fact, even if they had been bullets, she was the one person who could take them.
He knows if they got into a fight, a physical fight, she could easily win. She could rip him apart limb from limb, she could send him back to hell with a simple flick of her wrist. Even though he knows all this, he treats her like she's made out of glass because he simply cannot lose her. He needs her.
When he looks in her eyes now, he doesn't see her anymore. All he sees is that girl from a month ago who fractured and cracked apart at the sight of him, breaking down on a dirty bathroom floor.
And he doesn't want to, but sometimes....
....He finds himself questioning if she's really all there anymore.
He's starting to wonder if she'll ever tell him what's wrong, if she'll ever let him fix her. Then, one night, they both reach their breaking point.
It's late, really late, too late to be out. He's been out ever since the sun went down, trying to do his job and not think about her. When he staggers into the diner, the clock on the wall says it's nearly one thirty. All he wants to do is get some sleep. He doesn't want to deal with this stupid case anymore. Hunting isn't as fun as it used to be. He doesn't remember the last time he got a rush from a fresh kill. He'd really like to stop. Knows he can't.
But enough about that.
They're easy enough to spot. His shaggy haired brother is talking into his phone and as soon as he sees Dean, his voice drops into a low murmur. If it were any other day, Dean would have made some sort of comment, asking his brother if he was talking to a girl. But then his eyes fall on the blonde, slumped against the seat, eyes closed, lips drawn into a thin line, pain etched onto her face like she's fighting against something in her head. He sits down next to her and she moves, just enough to fall against him. He's somewhat horrified to feel her body is rigid and her breathing is ragged. Worried green eyes turn to Sam. ''How long has she - ''
Sam holds up a hand and turns away from his brother, still talking into his phone.
Dean frowns, getting the distinct impression that Sam's talking about him. Finally, the younger Winchester flips his phone shut and turns to Dean, smile firmly in place. His brother narrows his eyes. ''Who was that?''
''Hmm? Oh, no one, just Bobby. We were talking about the case.''
''I'm sure.'' She makes a noise, somewhere between a whisper and a sigh, his eyes cloud with something other than the frustration directed towards his brother. ''How long has she been like this?''
When Sam shrugs, Dean can tell his brother's trying just a little too hard to seem unconcerned. ''Fifteen minutes. Give or take. You should get her to bed.''
''No.'' Her voice makes the all mighty Winchester brothers jump, because they had been so sure she was asleep. ''No sleeping,'' she slurs, and they're pretty sure she's so far gone, she doesn't even know what she's saying. ''I won't do it. I won't sleep.''
''You're already half asleep,'' Dean points out.
She makes a very undignified noise. ''Am not. I'm very awake.''
''Riiiight,'' Sam draws out the word and leans across the table to meet his brothers eyes. ''I'm fairly certain she's losing it.''
''Go screw yourself, Winchester,'' she snaps, eyes still closed.
''Oh, very nice.''
Dean shakes his head and looks in between his brother and his girlfriend with exasperation. ''What am I going to do with you two?'' She hides her face in his jacket and he feels her start to shiver. He wonders if that means she's just cold, or if it means another nightmare is coming on. He decides he doesn't want to take the chance of her having one of her 'episodes' in the middle of a diner. ''Okay,'' he stands and hauls her to her feet. ''I'm taking you to bed.''
''Not now, Dean, I'm not in the mood.''
At that, Sam lets out a small huff of laugher, but covers it with a cough when Dean sends him a sharp glare.
''I meant for sleeping.''
And that does it. Blue eyes snap open and she stumbles away from him as if he's the worst kind of evil. ''No.'' She shakes her head and blinks to clear her vision. ''What part of no sleeping don't you understand?''
''Ruby, I really think you should get some sleep.''
She crosses her arms and huffs. ''I've decided I'm not going to sleep anymore.''
Dean looks at her, blinks, once, twice, three times. He opens his mouth to speak, no sound comes out. After a million and one seconds, he sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose, turning to his brother. ''Sam - ''
''Hey,'' Sam holds his hands up. ''Don't look at me. I'm not going to get into the middle of this.''
''Baby,'' he takes a hesitant step towards her, she glares at him making him stop in his tracks. ''You can't just decide you're not going to sleep anymore.''
''Already did, honey. Try and stop me.''
Dean waits a moment and weighs his options. He could say something he knows will set her off, possibly ending in a beating for him, or he could watch her kill herself. Well, he knows he's definitely not going with the latter. ''Is this about the dreams?''
He watches her body tense, her breathing speed up, the nervous clenching and unclenching of the fists. She gasps for air that doesn't make it to her lungs. He moves towards her. He thinks he knows what a panic attack looks like by now. She steps away from him, glaring heatedly. ''I'm going away now. Follow me and you'll get knocked on your ass.'' With that she turns away from him, making a mad dash for the bathroom.
''Well, yeah,'' Dean sighs and sinks back into the booth. ''That worked well.'' The brothers are silent for a moment and then the older one rises. ''I'm going after her.''
''She's going to end up beating the pulp out of you.''
''So let her.''
''You can't take care of her, Dean!''
Dean stops and turns away, sure he must have heard his brother wrong. He turns slowly, his green eyes darkening. ''What?''
Sam sighs heavily and rises to his feet. ''She's coming undone, Dean. She isn't the girl who you fell in love with. You know that, right?''
''What's your point?''
''You can't take care of her,'' Sam repeats. ''You don't know how.''
''So, what?'' Dean laughs bitterly. This can't be happening. Sam's supposed to be on his side. Sam's always supposed to be on his side. ''You want me to have her committed or something? Yeah, real great plan, what happens when she tosses someone across the room like a rag doll?''
''I care about her too, you know. I just...'' Sam closes his eyes briefly and jams his hands in his pockets. ''I don't like seeing her this way.''
''That makes two of us.'' He turns to go again, because he can't have this conversation, he can't talk about losing her, about letting her go. He'll take care of her, he'll always take care of her. She'll be just fine. He'll make sure of that.
No, no, no, no, no.
She was supposed to be past this. She was supposed to be strong again. Turns out she hasn't healed at all. She's still the same, breaking, making herself sick with unhealthy fears, barely breathing, panic attacks making her fade away until there's nothing left, and.....what is it with her and bathroom floors? Currently, she's collapsed on the floor, trying to breathe and not think about how these floors probably haven't been cleaned since the 70's.
At this moment in time, dying is most definitely easier then breathing.
The word makes her cringe. Sleep means stumbling into the world where he is gone, and she's all alone with her fears and her breakdown.
She barely manages to suppress a cry as she buries her face in her hands. This isn't how it's supposed to be. She's supposed to be okay, not living in fear that something, anything will rip him away from her. She remembers she was somebody once. Somebody strong. Before the hell hounds took him away. She was strong, a fighter, a tough, kick ass demon fighting on the side of good. She had somebody to love and somebody to love her. She felt real then. Now, she's just a shell.
The door opens and Dean steps through, totally unaffected by the fact that he's in the woman's washroom. ''Ruby....'' He makes a move towards her, like he's going to pick her up off the ground. She crawls away from him, back hitting the wall.
''No.'' She holds up a shaking hand and doesn't look at him. ''No touching. Just....'' She closes her eyes and orders herself to take a deep breath. ''Give me a minute.'' She hears him sigh and then he moves next to her and slides down until he's sitting next to her, being extremely careful not to touch her. She bites down on her lip to keep it from quivering, and keeps her eyes closed. They don't say anything, they don't need to, they've never needed to. The silence between them is easier then words, less painful, if they keep quiet, there's no danger of falling. After eons pass, she speaks. ''They won't go away, Dean.''
He turns towards her, and doesn't respond. She has the floor now. He'll stay silent until she's ready for him to speak.
''I try to make them go away, but I-I can't. I try to be okay, for you, and Sam, and Joey, but....I'm not okay. I-I don't know if I'll ever be okay again.''
''You will, Ruby, I promise you will.''
''Will I?'' Brave tears roll down her cheeks and she doesn't bother to wipe them away. She knows they'll just keep coming anyways. Slowly, she turns to meet those green eyes, the proof that he's really there with her, that he's alive. ''Because I just don't know anymore.''
He stays silent, for just a moment, like he's choosing his next words carefully. ''Can I...'' He swallows hard. ''Can I touch you now?''
His hand moves to her cheek, wiping away fallen tears, and then he pulls her into his arms, holding on for dear life. His eyes shine with his own emotions, his own problems, his own fears, as his gaze moves to the ceiling, like he's praying for all the hurting to stop. He knows this is his fault. The way she is, it's his fault. He left her all alone. ''It's going to take time, Ruby.''
''I can't keep going on like this, Dean. It's driving me crazy.''
He pulls away and meets her eyes. ''The dreams?''
She shakes her head and waits a moment before answering. ''Losing you.'' She doesn't look at him for a minute, because she doesn't have the strength anymore. ''Every night I lose you, and each time I do, it takes another piece of me away. If this doesn't stop soon, there won't be anything left of me. I don't understand what's happening, everything was supposed to go back to normal when you came back. I was supposed to get better. But, I'm not. I'm afraid, all the time. Afraid of things I've never been afraid of before. Every noise in the dark, every thing that goes bump in the night, all of it is something coming to take you away and I can't....I can't lose you anymore. It's too hard. It hurts too much. Sometimes, I feel like...'' She gulps down a fractured cry. ''Sometimes, I feel like I'm not going to make it.''
''Hey,'' he reaches out and holds her tight. ''You are not going anywhere...and neither am I. We're in this for the long haul, darlin'.''
''You think you can save me, Dean,'' she whispers, and the calmness of her voice startles her a little. ''But the truth is, I'm not sure you can this time.''
And suddenly, he feels sick, because she sounds so weak and despondent as she says this, and her eyes are devoid of any emotion, of any life. It almost sounds like she's letting go. ''You can't just give up.''
''Maybe not. But I don't think I can hold on much longer either.'' She closes her eyes, exhaustion taking over. ''I don't understand, Dean. How can love, something that's supposed to be so pure and beautiful, make me feel such pain.''
''Love hurts, baby.''
She snorts and moves her head to his shoulder. ''Oh, well, thank you.'' She feels his lips on her forehead and reaches out, holding onto him like he's the only thing left in the world. ''I'm so tired, Dean. Please...'' She chokes back a whimper. ''Help me.''
He holds onto her, the need to keep her safe and warm and in his arms stronger than ever.
''Take care of me.'' She thinks it's strange, begging him to take care of her, because she doesn't remember the last time she's actually asked someone to take care of her. That's now how it's supposed to work. Demons don't need people to take care of them. But, then again, Ruby has never been like the others. She looks up and meets his eyes, and she sees she's not the only one breaking. ''Will you take care of me?''
She's terrifying him, the tormented plea cutting into him like a knife. He's seen some pretty friggin' scary things in his lifetime. Things no one should have to see, but this, her, right now, right here, fragile and ready to shatter, it's the scariest thing of all. He nods slowly, in an unsteady motion and brings her into his arms again. When he speaks, his voice is trembling with all these emotions he's keeping from her. He pushes them away and concentrates on her.
end part one
AN: And so it begins. Those of you who are hoping things will get better after this, turn away now, because things will most definitely not get better for awhile. You know what they say, ''it's always darkest before dawn'' or something like that. This is by far one of the stories I am most proud of. I like taking an unnatural couple and making them deal with something that is just so human, it's very fun to write. That's really what this series is about. Two people who come from the world of all things paranormal dealing with things so very normal, like grief, love, fear, mental health, panic attacks, nightmares. After all, everyone deals with these things at some point, right? Anyways, part two should be up the day after tomorrow.