AN: Yeah, yeah, I know I should be working on I'll Wake Up My Body and Playing Matchmaker but I got this idea and it just wouldn't go away. So..here we go. A 'Silver Ring' series prequel.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters.
Five Times Ruby Called Dean
Written by Becks Rylynn
/i/ never want to say it's love
You hate that he is all you can think about.
You shouldn't be thinking about him, you should be thinking of Sam, of the war. But you simply can't help it. The longing envelopes you like a thick fog, suffocating you, holding tight until you can't breathe. You haven't spoken to him, haven't seen him, since that night in the bar.
And all you can think about is his lips on yours and his hands pulling you closer and the taste of alcohol and ashes in your mouth.
It's not fair.
You never asked for this, why won't it go away? This is just....horrid. And awful....And....And...icky. Yes, that's it. It's just plain icky. He is rude and arrogant and sarcastic and you know (you just know) he would kill you in a second if he had to. He pointed a gun at you for Christ's sake. He is not what you want.
You should hate Dean Winchester with every fiber of your being.
So...how come you don't?
Your eyes close as the human body you're driving grows tired in the night. It's not that late out, the sun is just barely setting, but the body is tired. It's been days since you last slept. All of your nights (and days for that matter) are consumed by thoughts of that stupiddumbassidiotjackassshortbus who just won't leave your subconscious alone.
As soon as your eyes are closed, you feel his lips on yours and his hands on you and just when the dream (and you're sure it's a dream because what else can it be?) is getting really, really good, you jolt awake, lungs aching for air as you sit up in a lumpy motel bed.
For a second, all you can do is breathe.
And then you remember how angry you are at him for doing this to you and while the logical part of you is begging to just forget about it, the irrational, impulsive side of you is reaching for your jacket, fingers searching for your cell phone.
When you finally pluck the small piece of technology from the pocket, you're grumbling under your breath and your eyes are black. How dare he do this to you? Make you feel this way?
You're not supposed to feel anything.
Your fingers press the buttons automatically and it ring, ring, rings for so long you're sure he's not going to pick up. He does though. His voice sounds through the phone, sounding tired and soft and it makes you wonder if he's thinking of you. But no matter how tired he sounds, he still sounds just like Dean, strong and cocky and rumbly and - damn it!
Your breath catches at the simple greeting and you freeze, all anger dissolving quickly, replaced by that something else that feels unfamiliar and scary inside of you.
A sigh fights its way out and you bite down on your bottom lip until you taste blood, remembering lips and hands and smirks and the kiss (ohthekiss) and your grip on the phone tightens.
You hear him suck in a sharp breath and you can see it all in your head. He's frozen, pieces of the puzzle coming together in his mind as he realizes - ''Ruby?''
You don't sigh, though you wish you could, furious that he is doing this to you....again.
You hatehatehate it.
You don't say a word.
Instead, you take a deep breath, calmly flip the phone shut.....and hurl it at the wall. It cracks and crashes, falling to the ground and you breathe, collapsing back on the bed, feeling breathless as you rake your hands through disheveled blond hair.
Damn it, Ruby, have you no control? Get a hold of yourself. It's just Dean.
It's just Dean.
And this just Dean is going to end up killing you.
/ii/ every rose has its thorn
''Ruby, watch the car! Watch the car!''
You ignore his protests and carelessly throw his duffel bag over the railing of the motel balcony. It falls and lands with a loud thud on the hood of his oh-so-precious car. It's hard not to smirk.
He lets out a wail that sounds utterly pathetic and you watch as he rushes forwards, inspecting the car like it's some kind of fallen hero. Jesus Christ. How the hell did you end up with that wreck of a man?
''Don't even think about coming near me right now, Dean Winchester!'' Your voice sounds high and shrill and you inwardly cringe at the volume. ''You can sleep in your stupid car for all I care!''
''Hey!'' He looks up at you, eyes ablaze. ''My car is not stupid, you crazy....'' He pauses and you arch an eyebrow, silently daring him to call you 'bitch'. After a moment, he shifts and crosses his arms. ''.....Woman.''
You growl and imagine maiming him. It would be fun right about now. ''Well, if you think I'm so crazy, why don't you just leave me? Go screw that bar bimbo who stuck her tongue down your throat. I'm sure she'd love that.''
''Baby - ''
''If you value your life you will not call me 'baby' right now or I swear to Lucifer I will shoot you.''
Once again, he's silent and you suspect it's because he's trying to determine if you're serious. When he realizes just how serious you are, he starts again...somewhat hesitantly this time. ''Ruby,'' he begins again, speaking carefully, as if he's walking on broken glass. ''If you'd just let me come up there and explain - ''
''Dean,'' you start with a sickening smile, ''if you come up here I'll throw you over the fucking balcony. And then for good measure, I'll run you over and if you're still alive I'll have to torture you by cutting off every one of your body parts. Starting with your most prized appendage!''
He blinks. ''That is...oddly specific!''
''You know what, Dean? Shove it!''
''Oh, yeah, that's mature.''
Shrieking in frustration, you stomp your foot and swallow hard. Goddamn it, what is he turning you into? You're acting like a needy, clingy, pathetic girlfriend right now. Dear God, it's horrible. And it's all his fault.
''Ugh, I hate this! I hate you!'' Eyes flashing onyx for the briefest moment, you crook an accusing finger in his general direction and glare with all the heat you can muster. ''Look at me! I'm acting like a high school teenager! This is ridiculous. Damn it, Dean, why do you always do this?! Why are you the only one who can do this to me?!''
He doesn't say anything, looking too startled by your words to know what to say.
You sigh heavily and purse your lips. ''You make me feel like a dumbass!''
He is silent for a long time and then he sighs and shakes his head, looking incredibly tired with this argument. ''Well, I'm sorry I give you dumbass-y feelings, Ruby, but that's kind of what this whole love thing is.''
''Huh,'' you frown and shift in the cold air, crossing your arms to keep them warm. You think you can smell a storm brewing, the sky overhead threatens rain and the winds are picking up. It's a rather stormy day and at that, you almost laugh because how ironic is that? ''I think I'd like to change my mind,'' you say quietly, hands rubbing your arms in an effort to keep warm.
You sigh. It's ridiculous; this fight, this relationship, this whole thing. It's too dramatic, too complicated. Drawing in a deep breath, you look down at him and the corners of your mouth curve downwards. ''I can't do this anymore, Dean.''
''It's just too hard.''
You snap out of your trance and look down at him, with a frown. ''What?''
''Start making sense!''
''Dean...'' And suddenly you're really glad you're up here and he's down there because you have no doubt that he wouldn't let you go. ''I don't want to love you anymore.''
Of course as soon as the words leave your lips, you see hurt and anger and shock flicker across his face and feel a small twinge of regret. But you swallow that down by snarling and remembering that he kissed some bar tramp and made you feel.....hurt. And that just won't do. Squaring your shoulders, you turn and stomp into the motel room, slamming the door behind you.
''Ruby, come on. Open the door. Can't we at least talk about this?''
Sitting calmly in a chair, legs crossed delicately, you sigh and roll your eyes. Winchesters. Great hunters, but, man, they really don't know when to give up, do they?
''There's nothing to talk about, Dean. Just go away.''
He's been standing outside the door for half an hour. Not even Sam could get him to leave (which he tried to do, with his gentle voice and bribes. ''Dean, why don't you just let her cool off?'' ''Nope.'' ''I'll buy you a cheeseburger.'' ''I'm not a donkey, Sam; you can't just wave a carrot in front of my face and expect me to follow you.'' ''You may not be a donkey, but you're certainly an ass.'') and it's really starting to get annoying.
''No. I am not going anywhere.''
''Fine,'' you snarl stubbornly, standing. ''Stay out there all night. I don't care. I hope you catch pneumonia.''
''No, you don't.''
No, you don't. But he doesn't need to know that. ''Dean, don't become a stalker. Just leave me alone.''
''Ruby....it didn't mean anything, I swear! She kissed me, I didn't kiss her back.''
You swallow and close your eyes briefly, trying not to think about that. It still hurts to see that in your mind, some slutty brunette with her tongue down your Dean's throat. And it shouldn't hurt, you shouldn't care. Which is why you just can't do this anymore.
''It's not about that,'' you say and tell yourself you're only half lying.
There's a pause and you can just imagine him desperately trying to figure out what else he could have done to make you say, ''I don't want to love you anymore.'' And you almost smile, because in your head, the look on his face is so adorable, but then you scowl because you've just remembered you're mad at him.
''It's not? Then what's it about?''
You take a breath and sit down on the bed; eyes facing the door like you're trying to see him through it. ''It's about....It's about what I'm becoming being with you. I have all of these feelings that I don't want.'' You shudder and wonder for a moment how these stupid humans deal with these things. ''I strongly dislike it. I feel like a human and I shouldn't so I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to end this.''
There's silence for a moment but you know he's still there because you can feel him still. That scares you.
''You're insufferable,'' he says, ''you know that, right?''
You decide you're not even going to dignify that with a response.
''Ruby,'' he sighs out, ''everyone has feelings. Not all of them are good feelings and they often make us want to jump off a bridge or throw ourselves in front of a bus, but.....you can't just get rid of them. No matter what you do, they're always going to be there.''
''But I'm a demon,'' you protest weakly. ''I'm not supposed to have feelings.''
''You said yourself you're not like the others.''
You stand, take a step towards the door and tilt your head to the side. ''I'm a bad person.''
''You're my person.''
''I have black eyes.''
''I hate you.''
''....I love you.''
Your arms wrap around yourself and try not to sigh. He's not like other men, that's for sure. Finally, you shake your head and decide this is getting way too emotional for your taste. ''I'm going to bed,'' you say.
''I'll be here,'' he says.
You have no doubt.
You wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of rain. It's loud and thunder rumbles in the distance. It feels colder in the room then it did before and for a second, in your half asleep state, you just lie there and listen to the rain. When you roll over to curl into Dean's side in an attempt to get warm and he's not there, you remember suddenly and a sharp gasp escapes your lips.
You must be really tired because you stumble when you stand and that never happens. Cautiously, you peek out the window at the pouring rain and you really hope he's not - oh. There he is.
''Oh, for god's sake.''
Grabbing your phone, you dial the number without thinking and he picks up halfway through the first ring.
''Ru - ''
''Are you cold?'' Your voice sounds harsh and demanding and you think you might hear him sigh but you can't be sure.
''Are you hungry?''
''Do you have pneumonia?''
Sigh. ''Are you going to stay out there forever?''
''That's my plan.''
''That's a stupid plan.''
''Yeah, well, I'm not very bright.''
You sit down on the bed and there's a long pause where you wait for him to say something. It's a long time before he does.
''Ruby....I can't feel my fingers.''
And that's when you realize you simply can't help it. You can try as hard as you want to push him out of your heart, but he's always going to be there. Stupid.....man. Shaking your head, you close your eyes and swallow hard. ''I....I love you,'' you finally manage to sigh.
''Yep. I still hate you just as much.''
''Yeah, I figured.''
''Dean....I don't want you to catch pneumonia.''
''Well,'' he says lightly and you think you can actually hear him smile. ''That's something.''
In the next instant, you're on your feet and flinging open the door and there he is. Wet and shivering but still wearing that freaking smirk of his.
''I'll call you back,'' you murmur into the phone. And then you step outside and crash your lips onto his.
Things to do before he dies: Kiss him in the rain.
/iii/ over the phone lines
Things should not be this....boring.
It's a crime.
There's a friggin' war on the horizon, how can things be this slow? It's just horrible. Really. You need some violence, something to shake things up a bit. You need a hunt. You need to fight something.
It takes digging, but after some extensive looking, searching and digging through newspapers and the web, you find some dirt on a possible Poltergeist case out in Michigan.
You really shouldn't be this excited, but you can't help it.
Sex, violence and french fries, those are the things you live for. Oh! And those morning showers you take with Dean to 'conserve water' but those could potentially fall under the sex category.
Grinning, you pull out your cell phone and dial a familiar number as you push out the doors of the local library.
''What's up, Kenick?''
On the other line, he laughs and the sound makes you smile. ''One guess.''
This time you're the one who laughs, licking your lips as you move down the stairs. In the background, you hear Sam's voice, ''If you two break out into a riveting chorus of 'You're the one that I want' I will have to shoot you both!''
Your grin widens as you walk down the sidewalk, relishing in the warm sunlight air. Always fun to annoy Sam. And so easy. ''So, guess what?''
''You've decided to do a striptease for me?''
You would sigh normally and roll your eyes in annoyance, but you've learned that sex is always on his mind. ''No, Dean. I found - ''
''Well, why not? Come on, Ruby, we need to spice things up a little. Hey - ''
''No phone sex!''
''Aw, you're no fun.''
''Dean, can you please be serious?''
''I've never been serious-er.''
''So, uh, what are you wearing?''
Curses rise in your throat, but you don't say them. Taking a deep breath, you sink onto a bench and cross your legs calmly, smirking as a truly evil idea hits you. ''Actually, baby, I'm not wearing anything at all.''
Take that, horndog. ''That's right, baby,'' you shrug and lower your voice to a sultry murmur, working hard not to laugh. ''I'm just sitting here, in the car...waiting for you. Do you want to come and play with me?''
There's an audible squeak on the other line and then there's a noise, like footsteps and a crash and you hear the door slam. And then....
''Oh, that is so not fair!''
You burst out laughing, giggles exploding in your chest. Oh, god, you can just see the look in his eyes.
''Ruby, why do you always do that?!''
You sober, just long enough to fire out, ''Why do you always fall for it?'' before cracking up again.
''You know,'' he snaps, ''one of these days, you're actually going to be naked in the backseat and I'm not going to believe you.''
''Who would that really punish, Dean? Me or you?''
He sighs. ''Man, you really aren't in the mood for this, are you?''
You smile and rise to your feet, starting to walk again; down cracked pavement towards your equally cracked boyfriend. ''I need some violence, Dean. So listen, all right? I may have found a case.''
''Okay, I'll listen on one condition.''
''We get to have phone sex.''
''Yes, right now.''
''I'm in the middle of a crowded street.'' And then you remember something and your face contorts in disgust. ''And you're with your brother!''
''Ugh, all right, fine. No phone sex. How about backseat sex? Tonight? You, me, backseat?''
You wrinkle your nose and shake your head. ''I get stuck to the seats. Not to mention your car isn't the cleanest. How about shower sex?''
''We have shower sex every day.''
''Dean, please don't whine. You're not a child. You're just sexually frustrated.''
''I am not sexually frustrated! Oh...Jesus.''
''Said that a little loud, didn't you?''
''People are looking at you now, aren't they?''
You scoff, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. ''You're such an idiot.''
''Ruby, this is serious. Do you realize what this means? We're turning into an old married couple. You know, only one position, nothing new, it's all the same.''
''Ew! Stop! I don't want to think about old people and their positions!''
You think you can hear him snap his fingers as you turn a corner. Almost there now, then you can talk to Dean face to face. And maybe hit him.
''I've got it! We should have sex up against the wall.''
''Up against what wall? Don't we do that in the shower?''
''On a table.''
''As in the place where we eat?''
''A public bathroom.''
''Veto. What about in a bed?''
''Have a little adventure, Ruby.''
''A little adventure,'' you muse, smirking slowly. ''Hmm....''
Where you used to barge into the room without knocking, you decide to knock today.
An hour later, you're finally back at the motel, new toy in your hand. Dean wants adventure? Okay then, you can give him adventure. Something new. The door opens and his green eyes greet you with a smile. ''Ruby....''
Smirking, you hold up the new toy and dangle them in front of his face. ''Do you trust me, Dean?''
He looks at you, then at the handcuffs, and then he smiles. ''A little adventure, Ruby?''
You smile and nod. ''A little adventure.''
/iiii/ the one thing that stays mine
(takes place after Jus in Bello)
You're sleep deprived and disheveled and awaiting anxiously for that dumbass you're sleeping with to call. You've been up for 48 hours straight and you think it would be nice to sleep but you're just too concerned.
Pacing the small length of the crappy motel room, you desperately try not to bite down on your lip as you go over the events of the past few days in your head, searching for a flaw, some way this could have been avoided.
Should have killed that Bela chick when you had the chance. Then she never would have called Henrickson and your boys never would have been caught and thrown in that jail and those....creatures, demons that weren't like you, never would have...wait...yes, they would have. If it wasn't like this, they would have found another way. Demons would always find their way to the Winchesters.
But you could have stayed. You could have stayed with them, fought with them; you shouldn't have let their stupid overprotective 'tudes get to you. Shouldn't have let them push you away. So what if it was more dangerous for you? So what if their plan would have killed you along with all the others? At least you would know they were safe.
Stupid, stubborn asses.
Biting down on your thumbnail nervously, your eyes on the cell phone, you close your eyes and try to tell yourself it will be fine. To keep your hands busy, you pull your hair into a ponytail, search around in your bag for....whatever your hand hits and then decide you won't let him turn you into this.
Shaking your head and muttering a thousand curses against Dean Winchester under your breath, you hastily grab your jacket and cell phone and storm out the door. You need coffee and you need fries and you need to not think about them.
The waitress has just placed a plate of fries in front of you (even though you're really not that hungry) when your phone rings.
Breath catching, you fumble for the phone, finally getting it open and answering with a breathless, ''Dean?''
''Ruby, it's me.''
The voice on the other end is gruff and there's something else hidden in it, but the disappointment flooding through your veins is enough to make you not care at all. Letting out a small huff, you swallow thickly and cross your arms, trying not to think. ''Bobby...hey.''
''Ruby, have you seen the news? Tell me it's a lie. They weren't there, right? They're okay?''
You frown and you have to reach out and grip the table top, telling yourself to breathe and not throw up because fear is twisting your stomach. ''Bobby,'' when you speak, your voice is confident and sure of yourself, even though that is so not what you're feeling inside. ''Slow down. What's goin' on?''
He sighs on the other line. ''There was an explosion, Ruby. At some police station, the news is sayin' Dean and Sam were inside. But it's not...it's not true, right?''
But you can't breathe suddenly and there's fear in your throat so you can't answer. Oh, god. No. No, this can't be happening. They were fine when you left, they were fine. You tell yourself they have to be fine. But then you remember that they haven't called and you're not sure how to stay calm anymore. ''Bobby...I...I have to...I have to go. I'll call you back, all right?''
He protests, but you don't listen as you flip the phone shut and try not to let those salty tears fall. No. They're fine. There's just no other option. You close your eyes and take a moment to calm down, but find you can't. The hustle and bustle of the little diner, which had once sounded oddly comforting, now sounds too loud and the smell of fries, which you've always loved, is making your stomach churn.
Standing on legs that wobble and make you feel unbalanced, you leave your untouched fries and coffee behind, throwing down a few bills and then you're gone, into sunlight that feels too bright. And when you lean against a cold, grimy brick wall and slide to the cold, grimy cement ground, you tell yourself it's just because you're tired.
You should call him, you know that. Screw waiting for a phone call, you have to know. But....
....What if he doesn't answer?
Will that mean he's gone? It's not time yet!
You're not sure how long you sit there, but eventually, you can't take it anymore and you pull out your phone and dial his number. Usually, when you call him, he answers on the second ring.
He doesn't today.
A cry grows in your throat.
Tears well in your eyes.
You start to tremble.
Fifth rin -
His voice is thick with sorrow and guilt and it's soft like a whisper, but it's there. And that means he's alive. You breathe for what feels like the first time and a cry of relief tumbles out of your lips. ''Dean....''
''I'm okay,'' he repeats, ''Ruby, I'm....I'm okay.''
You bite your lip and close your eyes, breathing sighs of relief and silently uttering ''thank you'' over and over in your head. ''You'd better be, Dean.''
''Where are you?'' He asks. ''I'll come and get you.''
Nothing has ever sounded so good before.
When he shows up, smiling weakly, looking banged up and soul destroyed but alive, the first thing you do is kiss him like you'll never see him again and wrap your arms around him. The second thing you do is hit him. Hard.
He groans, you smirk and all is back to normal.
And you try not to think about the day (it's coming way too soon) where he won't answer and tell you he's okay.
At night, when you're lying all alone in bed, you can hear him screaming.
That night replays in your head and you can see him, on the ground, invisible claws tearing through flesh, ripping through arteries, blood spraying, splashing and draining. You can hear him choking on it, trying to speak, drowning in his own blood.
Sometimes, you wake up and beside you, there's vacant green eyes staring back at you and the sheets are bloody because he's there, he's right there, chest torn open and bleeding. Of course, you wake up then, really wake up, and it's always just a dream. But the sight of blood and unseeing eyes never fail to send you racing towards the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach.
You look different, you're well aware of that.
You don't shine so bright anymore. Not without him. Your eyes are hollow, dark bags under dull blue, you're startlingly pale all the time and you're thin because every time you try to eat something, you remember a time you shared that with him and you lose your appetite. You stopped fighting weeks ago because....because....there's really nothing left to fight for. Not to mention you always seem to reek of booze and cigarette smoke. Because you're trying, you're trying so hard to drink it all away but you never can. Not completely. You don't remember the last time you spoke, (not much to say anyways) can't even recall what your voice sounds like and it's just....so hard to attempt to live without him.
How pathetic is that?
One night, your weak and tired body has just collapsed in bed when your phone rings. And it's been nearly a month, but you still expect every phone call to be him.
Rising to your feet and stumbling a few steps, you grab the phone off the table and answer, ''Hello?'' Your voice is hoarse from disuse and you have to clear your throat and say it again to make sure the other person has heard. ''Hello?''
You close your eyes and push a hand through your hair. Jesus, you do not want to deal with this right now. ''Bobby, I'm really not - ''
''I know you don't want to talk, darlin', and I understand that, I just...I need you to do something for me.''
''Phone Dean's cell phone.''
The tears come all at once and your lip curls in disgust. Is this some kind of sick joke? A cruel punishment? ''Excuse me?''
''Just trust me, Ruby, there's something you need to hear.''
You swallow, take a moment to think and finally, after a few moments of silence and you picking at the comforter, you nod and sniffle. ''O-Okay, fine. I'll call.'' Except when you hang up, you really have no intention of calling at all. But your fingers seem to have taken on a life of their own because suddenly you're dialing and there's nothing you can do to stop.
It rings....and rings....and rings....and rings......
....And with each little ring you feel like you're dying. Until his voicemail picks up. It used to be ''this is Dean Winchester, I can't get to the phone right now...'' or something stupid and so unbelievably Dean that it made you roll your eyes whenever you heard it.
It's different this time.
Because the first thing you hear is your name.
''Ruby....'' Hands clenching into fists, you barely remember how to breathe as cries tear out of your throat. ''....I don't know if you're even going to get this message, it's a long shot, but I....I have to try. In case I don't get a chance to say goodbye in person. I just need you to know that I love you. I love you more than I thought I did. I wish....I wish we had more time. You know,'' he laughs lightly, and you cry harder, desperately attempting to breathe. ''For such a long time, Ruby, Sam was all that I had. And I love that kid more than anything, you know that, but there was always something missing. I always thought I didn't have anything, always thought I didn't deserve someone to love. And then you came along. I was wrong, Ruby, I was dead wrong. I did have something. Something that was more than enough. I had you.'' Your legs give out and you go crashing to the ground, fingernails digging into the bedspread. ''I had you and I had Sam and that was all I ever really needed. I...I guess I'm gone now, huh? Well....that's okay. As long as you're alive, as long as Sam's alive that's all that matters. Just...promise me something, baby. Always remember I loved you more than you will ever know.''
The message beeps and all you hear is silence and the sound of your gulping sobs, but his words linger in your ears. I did have something. Something that was more than enough. I had you.
''I love you,'' you finally manage to get out through sobs. It seems stupid, leaving him a message that he will never get, but if it makes you feel good then that's all that matters. And since you have no idea what else to say, you say it again. ''I love you,'' and again, ''I love you.'' Over and over again until your voice cracks and the message cuts you off and you're left on the floor, clutching a phone and crying your eyes out.
You can't help but be angry at yourself. You knew this would happen, you knew from the start that it would end like this. You just didn't know it would hurt this much.
And the night seems to whisper, soft, gentle words that curl around you like smoke and let you breathe for the first time in a month.
Always remember I loved you more than you will ever know.