Eh, I woke up with this in my head and wrote it down. I guess it's worth posting. Please tell me what you think.
Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine, but belongs to the wonderous Eric Kripke. I wish though...

How The Mighty Have Fallen

"Where the hell are you, Ruby? This isn't funny anymore. I'm all out. Stop whatever you're doing. Call me. I need more."

A quirky smile tugged at the corner of Ruby's lips as she listened to the voicemail on her phone. Oh Sam, she thought. So desperate, so needy… What would big brother think?

Dean, of course, would freak out at Sam, then likely stab her in the heart with her own knife. Or try to anyway. She wasn't going to just stand there for him with her arms wide open. Her smile broadened, a shiver of perverse pleasure tingling down her spine. Sam wouldn't let his brother even get close enough to her to attempt such a thing. She had the young Winchester right under her thumb, following her like a love-struck puppy on a leash, lusting for her, or more specifically the crimson ecstasy that flowed just beneath her flawless skin.

Begging.

Demon blood was more than just a simple buzz to get one through the day, more than just an addiction. It was power. Pure, raw power. Inhuman. Giving those in whose veins it coursed through a higher sense of reality, with heightened senses and strength abound, and to those that tasted of its fire, a glimpse of what lay beyond mortal limitations.

But a glimpse wasn't good enough, not for Sam Winchester. He wanted more. He wanted that power. He wanted that sense of invincibility that it gave him.

He wanted that control.

You can have it, Sammy. You can have it all.

Little did Sam know, or cared to acknowledge, was just how out of control he'd become. His mood swings, his hunger to be more than what he was… It was almost sad.

Almost.

I'm the little fallen angel perched on your shoulder, whispering secrets in your ear.

Sam was her puppet on strings, coming to her beck and call and hanging onto her every word. He did not hear the poison in her soft voice or see the malevolence in her dark eyes. He did not question her, not as long as she eased his insatiable thirst.

You need it, Sammy. You want it. I know you do.

Gone was the curious, self-conscious young hunter she'd first met, who was always concerned about turning into something he wasn't, afraid of his powers, his gifts. Then Dean had gone to Hell, and those qualities fled Sam, leaving him vulnerable to her charms and seductive prowess. He slowly bent to her will, succumbing fully at his first drink from her body, her fountain of temptations and power. There was only obedience now. Absolute obedience.

You can't resist me. In your heart, it's all you desire.

There was no more of Dean's Sammy to be found in the young hunter. That part of Sam was lost and buried, drowned in his affliction. There was only her Sammy now. A Sammy that would do anything for her.

Now and forever.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

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