AN: Just so you know, this thing was supposed to be a oneshot. And it would've been a oneshot if January 24th hadn't crept up on me so quickly. See, I had a deadline for this story. I needed to get it posted by the 24th for various reasons (one of them being Dean's birthday) and even though I have been working on this story like a mad woman, I just couldn't get it finished. So, at this point I don't know how many chapters it will be. After that I have to finish your words in my memory, get cracking on Queen of Hearts and then get back to Breakable Hummingbirds. Why do I do this to myself? Oh yeah. Because it's fun.

This story is AU, just so you know. Sam does have a soul in this story and many aspects of season six will be changed drastically. Episodes are out of order and most won't be shown at all. Since there is a character limit on summaries, the full summary is below.

The verses at the beginning and end of this chapter are from a poem called ''Scheherazade'' by Richard Siken. His poetry was actually the inspiration for this fic. I know that most of his poems are about m/m relationships, but his style of writing is really what drove me to write this fic. Therefore lines from his poems will be present at both the beginning and ends of the chapters.

Without further crazy ass rambling from me...

Happy 32nd birthday, Dean Winchester. And I hope all of you real, non-fictional people out there enjoy this slightly twisted love triangle.


Title: Everything You Want
Summary: Alternate season six: The return of someone from his past sends Dean into a tailspin as he begins to question his relationship with Lisa. While he finds himself torn between the woman who could give him everything he supposedly wants and the woman who knows his heart to an uncomfortable degree, Lisa desperately clings to the remaining threads of their delicate relationship and Ruby unknowingly begins to snip away at the frail strings. Meanwhile, Sam, soul and all, tries to keep the peace and hold onto the sanity that is slipping away from him since returning from Hell, Ben attempts to sort through the tangled mess of intertwined lives, Bobby and Cas play therapist and both Crowley and a Campbell boy make a move on Ruby. An ensemble fic about the love triangle from hell and how it affects everyone.
Characters: Dean, Ruby, Lisa, Sam, Ben, Castiel, Bobby, the Campbells, Crowley.
Pairing(s): Dean/Ruby, Dean/Lisa, minor and brief Ruby/Mark Campbell, onesided Crowley/Ruby.
Genre: Angst/Romance.
Rating: T for language and themes.
Timeline: Alternate season six.
Spoilers: Spoilers for all of SPN. I'd say seasons three to six are the ones most prominently spoiled in this story.
Warnings: There is some pretty graphic torture later on. I'd say on a scale of one to ten it would be about a five or a six. Also, there is possibly going to be some dub-con/non-con going on a little later and some emotional/verbal/mental/physical abuse and minor character death all later on in the story.
Notes: Just to warn you, this story is all over the place. It switches between pretty much everyone's POV and it's more like snapshots from a twisted love triangle.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.


Everything You Want

Written by Becks Rylynn


Chapter One


''Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake

and dress them in warm clothes again.''


''It's always gonna be there, isn't it?''

''What?''

''Us. Me and you. We'll always be unfinished. Undiscovered. And we'll always end up here. Won't we? Won't we?''


They began and ended like a flower and a weed. Though they could never fully figure out who was the flower and who was the weed. They were a silvery mess of strings to pull and tug and bite, a garden of couldn't and shouldn't and wantwantwant. She swallowed his breath and he swallowed hers in the back of his car with the windows fogged up so no one could see. It went on for months and then the sky fell before they could even really begin; before they could admit to themselves that maybe it was more than sweat and sex and the blood that bloomed from when she scraped her fingernails down his back and he bit down on her lip.

She died and he followed. Like Romeo and Juliet.

Only not.


Then she came back. And she came back wrong. All wrong. He came back next, through dirt and flames and an angel's wings. He came back, she lied through her teeth and cut her wrists for Sam and then she died with a smirk on her unglossed lips and her eyes on Dean.

But.

But.


The world didn't end.

Dean went to Lisa.

Because Lisa was perfect and normal and so beautiful and there was no one else. Not anymore.


Dean goes to Lisa because he loves her. (Fiction.)

Dean goes to Lisa because she will always be a terrible liar and Ben likes classic rock and Dean has always been a conspiracy theorist at heart. (Fact.)


Crowley believes he is playing Dominoes. It's a game of strategy and destruction. You set them up, apply the right amount of pressure and they all fall down. He has always enjoyed nice, clean destruction, after all.

''I have always admired your strength, darling,'' he tells her after he has brought her back to the top, brushing hair out of her shadowed eyes. ''Not one but two stints down under and you're still clinging to that fractured, broken soul of yours. It all makes sense, no? Why you're so attached to that boy. You're a lot alike, you two. Weak, broken, damaged, eternally flawed.''

Trembling and trying to remember how to forget, she shakes dirty, unwashed hair out of her stinging eyes and scowls at him with shaking lips. ''Fuck off.''


That's the thing about resurrection, you see. It's unpredictable. No matter who does the resurrecting. Sometimes you come back less than you were. Sometimes you come back more. It all depends on how you look at the black eyes. But you always come back broken and cracked like a shattered glass. That's not negotiable.


A year passes and Dean believes he has fallen in love with the perfect woman who has stitched him back together with a needle and a thread and scotch and whiskey and a tired lullaby.

And then Sam comes home.

In the grand scheme of things, that's about the most unsurprising thing of all of the things that follow. Sam comes home. Well, duh. That's how the story ends, is it not? Sam comes home, Dean comes home, Sam comes home and on and on and on and on until they're shells. They are Sam and Dean. They are puzzle pieces. Apart they are unimportant, unnecessary and awkward pieces that don't fit right anywhere else. Together they create pictures of family and love and happiness and devotion.

Sam comes home.

So, what else is new? Well, for starters...he doesn't come alone.


She passes tests with Sam and it takes a long time for him to trust her and believe that whoever it was that fed him blood and got him started on this whole 'path of destruction' thing, it wasn't her. Eventually, he trusts her enough to save her life when she's in danger. Unfortunately, he also trusts the Campbells. She's pretty sure the Campbells are just cheap weapons that hold no value. Maybe that's why she doesn't like them. Or maybe it's the way they treat her.

They're wary of her. She gets that. She'd be wary of her too. But they watch her with narrowed judgmental eyes and she'd fight back but she's too tired. Sam's stoicism is fake and she's sure she can see sanity bleeding out of his eyes as memories of hell worm their way back inside his muddled brain. Despite that, he still forms a wall in front of her when it comes to the Campbells like he can tell she's damaged and tired and doesn't need this crap just by looking at her. She's grateful for that.

She can't be bothered to remember their names because they don't mean much, so she gives them cruel nicknames to tell them apart and hopes they sting when she uses them just like their judgment pricks her until she bleeds. There's Old Man, Loudmouth, Creepy Little Bitch (and that dude is giving off some serious demonic vibes too; she wonders if Old Man knows about that) and Scruffy and Silent. Out of all of them, Scruffy and Silent is the only one who she doesn't want to kill. Mostly because she's not kidding about that Silent part. Unlike the others, he keeps his distance and stays quiet and he doesn't look at her like the others do, but he looks at her all the same.

He catches her elbow one night when her skin is crawling from Creepy's stare. ''We're not all bad,'' he says softly.

It's the first time she's ever heard his voice and it makes something stir inside of her. She stays stony, jerks her arm out of his grasp and breathes. ''Prove it.''


At night, she watches Dean from behind leaves and shadows. Want and longing and the couldn't and shouldn't start in her stomach, go up and down and make her head pound. It hurts more than she thought it would when she sees Dean with that woman. It's not supposed to hurt.

One night, she makes it as far as the door and breathes along with the sound of her heartbeat. Her fingers graze the door and she swallows. She wants it all so badly it hurts. That's why she is different. There is heat somewhere close by yet far away and a twisting in her stomach and her fingers prickle with electricity. She realizes just in time that he's there. She pulls away with a gasp, whirls around and she's gone when he opens the door with hopeful eyes.


Dean feels a pull one night. Like gravity. He checks the Devil's Trap under the rug, feels the leftover burn from his scotch and gravity still holds him tight in its grip. He holds onto the doorknob loosely and tries to breathe. There is something just out of his reach, isn't there? Something important. Something that he needs. He doesn't know what he's hoping to find when he flings open the door, but he's hoping for something and all he gets is crushing disappointment.

Story of his life.


It still comes down to flowers and weeds, you know.

She's the weed. Lisa's the flower. And this isn't a fairytale. She's not the ugly duckling who turns into a swan. She can't be the nerd who takes off her glasses and suddenly she's hot. She can't be saved by love. This isn't a movie or a story or a half baked notion of love. This is life, and life doesn't have those kinds of endings, okay? It just doesn't. Life has flowers and weeds. Lisa is the flower who blooms bright and beautiful, Ruby is the unneeded weed who shrivels into the dirt and Dean is the soldier who steps on them both on his way to the sun.

Caught between a flower and a weed...nobody ever picks the weed.


One day, Ruby walks in with a, ''Hey, Sam, I'm - '' and then stops short when she looks up. ''Oh,'' she startles, recovers like it's no big deal and smirks. ''Hey, Dean. Don't you look old.'' She grimaces in disgust, puts a hand on her hip and scoffs at him while he stares at her with eyes that don't believe. ''Oh, for God's sake, untuck your shirt. You look like an asshole.''


Dean's head is still spinning with confusion and doubt and suspicion when it happens. He's doing his best to wrap his mind around Samuel and the Campbells and he desperately wants to wrap his arms around Sam to make sure this is real and not a dream that he's had before. Because he has, you know. Had this dream where Sam comes back. It always ends with cruel taunts and gasps for air as he either jolts himself out of his nightmare or is pulled out by Lisa.

His body is angled towards Sam, his eyes, glittering with distrust, are raking over the Campbells, he's swimming in racing thoughts and then she walks in. Later, he'll wonder why he was surprised. She always did have a flair for the overdramatic entrances, remember. She struts in like she owns the place, hair pulled up into a ponytail, lips twisted into a frown, eyes on the cell phone held loosely in her hand. ''Hey, Sam, I'm - ''

She stops when she looks up and when her eyes meet his startled ones, he suddenly feels like he has been punched in the gut. Those eyes. He remembers those eyes. They used to burn right through him like torches. He has to take a step back. She composes herself impossibly quickly with an easy smile that flicks on a light switch in her eyes. But don't think he missed that deer-in-headlights look. He saw it just fine. She got those damned flashbacks too, didn't she? Those flashes of fragments from before with bodies in the backseat and skin under fingertips.

He finds himself suddenly remembering exactly what her skin feels like under his hands. The air thins.

''Oh,'' she says. ''Hey, Dean. Don't you look old.'' She stares at him reproachfully with her hand on her hip and her eyes narrowed. ''Oh, for God's sake, untuck your shirt. You look like an asshole.''

He is actually incredibly offended by that. He may be out of the game he's never really wanted to play, but when it comes to her he's still got those cat-like reflexes that always end with his hand around her neck and her back against a wall. It is no different this time. It has been a long time since he's done this dance, but he still remembers the steps just fine.


''The whole time?''

''Yep.''

''For a year?''

''Yep.''

''It was never really her?''

''Nope.''

''And you believe her?''

''Yep.''

''...Sam?''

''Hmm?''

''Have you lost your fucking mind?''

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean catches Ruby's offended glare and it excites something in him that he thought had died a long time ago. He doesn't appreciate that. She's messing with his stable predictibility. ''For fuck's sake, kid, she's lying! That's what she does. She lies, Sam.'' Apparently, a lover's betrayal is an unhealable cut and he is not quite as over it as he first fucking suspected.

''Dean,'' Ruby laughs a strange little laugh that seems to get lost somewhere in her throat and for a second, Dean wonders if he has actually hurt her. ''If I was going to do something evil, don't you think I would have done it by now? I've been back for a year. All alone. With your brother. With precious little Sammy who didn't have a heroic Batman brother to save him from himself. Get over yourself,'' she snaps. ''Even if I did have a diabolical master plan to end all diabolical master plans, I wouldn't waste it on the morons who believed skanky demon bitch was me for a year. Still bitter about that, by the way.''

Dean blinks at her and before he even realizes what he's doing, he's smirking at her. ''I can see that.''

''Go screw yourself, short bus.''

''Short bus? Haven't you already used that one on me?'' He gasps and points a finger at her. ''Are you re-using insults on me, woman? I find that highly offensive.''

''Don't call me woman.''

''Uh, guys?'' Sam looks hesitant as he positions himself in between them, sighing impatiently. ''You do realize that if you two start this you'll never stop, right?''

Dean is the first to back down, slinking away from Ruby like she's the Devil Incarnate. He realizes if he keeps doing this with her, he'll fall into a pattern once again. A familiar pattern that cannot exist anymore because of Lisa. ''Why are you trusting her?'' He asks lowly. ''Don't you remember the last time you decided to trust Ruby?''

''That wasn't Ruby,'' Sam explains patiently. His soft monotone is really starting to aggravate Dean. Why is no one else upset about this?

''So she says,'' he snorts. When Ruby opens her mouth to say something most likely vile and tasteless, Sam shoots her a pleading look and she wires her jaw shut. Bitter, Dean can't help but allow his lips to twist into a particularly mean looking sneer. ''Aw. He's even got you house trained.''

''Don't be a dick, Dean,'' Sam bites out. ''She passed all the tests. I have no reason not to trust her.''

Really, Sam? You don't? You don't? ''What tests?''

Sam presses his lips together and finds the floor incredibly entertaining all of a sudden. ''She just told me some...stuff that only she would know.''

''Like what? What stuff? What stuff did she talk about? What could she possibly...'' Oh. Oh. Dean's eyes widen in horror and he slowly turns around to face Ruby, who is grinning from ear to ear looking like the cat that got the canary. ''What did you tell him?'' He snarls out.

That old familiar smirk splays itself across her lips like a ribbon. ''Oh, lots of things.'' She frowns suddenly and pushes herself off the wall. ''I think the real question is why didn't you tell him?''

Dean stiffens and tries to shrug nonchalantly. ''Nothin' to tell.''

''Really? Sure you weren't just ashamed of me?''

Something in him snaps just like that and he finds himself filled with the need to hurt her like he pretended she didn't hurt him. (Or NotHer. Whatever. It's all very confusing now, isn't it?) He smiles at her, tilts his head to the side and brushes hair out of her face, which seems to startle her greatly. ''Oh, honey. Of course I was ashamed of you.'' This time he knows he's hurt her. Well, good. He hopes it stings. For a brief second, she rears back like she has been physically assaulted and the second he sees that look in her eyes, he knows he has gone way too far.

''Dean,'' Sam murmurs, and he sounds so disappointed that it literally pinches and pricks at Dean's flesh.

Ruby, like most people, doesn't like being humiliated. Dean learns that when she decides to humiliate him right back. As always, she doesn't play fair. Her fingers curl around the collar of his shirt and he thinks she's going to slam him into a wall and invoke terrible violence on him. She doesn't. Nope. It's a totally different kind of torture she inflicts upon him in the next several seconds. She yanks him towards her and crushes her lips onto his roughly. Instantly, those newly installed chimes go off in his head that scream, Hello! You're in a monogomous relationship with Lisa! LisaLisaLisa, Dean! But his body's response is another story. Blood and tingles and sparks and flames make wildfires and his hand comes up to her cheek and - oops, he kisses her back for a second there. Wow, that is so not good.

She pulls away abruptly and shoves him away from her with enough strength to make him stumble backwards. She looks at him with empty eyes and he stares at her in either horror or wonder. Currently, he can't decide which. Calmly, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and smoothes down her shirt. ''There,'' she rasps out breathlessly. ''There's your fucking proof. Oh, and also?'' She steps forwards and he sees her hand clenching into a fist but there's really nothing he can do before she punches him with enough pent up hurt and anger and demon superstrength to send him to the floor. ''I like your shirt better untucked.'' She gives him one more look that makes him feel like a bug and then she spins on her heel to go because she also has a thing for dramatic exits.

''I like your hair better down,'' he counters.

He says it so softly that he's so sure she won't hear him. But she stops in the doorway with her hand on the doorframe and for about a second, she turns her head ever so slightly. He thinks she'll turn back around to face him. Instead, she squares her shoulders and leaves him behind. It's what she's good at.

Sam whistles. ''Wow. Haven't seen her that angry since the last time you beat on her and called her ugly. I think you really hurt her feelings. I think you're the only one who can. Why do you do that?''

Dean's jaw twitches and his head pounds as he rises to his feet. Because she hurt me first, is what he'll never say. Right. Except...it wasn't really her. ''It's not my fauly she's such an easy target,'' he says instead.

Sam shakes his head. ''And they're back.''


Things just got complicated, didn't they?


She didn't mean to let him hurt her that much. She didn't mean to let him hurt her at all.

Ruby bursts out into the cool night air, her strangled breaths losing themselves in her closing throat. Dean has always had a way of pushing her to the brink. He pushes, she pulls and then they both nip and punch and kick at each other until there's nothing left but blood.

Once upon a time, they had a twisted story of wants and needs, she'll acknowledge it was twisted. Of course it was. But it, like so many other things didn't, made them feel. Back then, that was something to cling to.

In the starlight, Ruby gasps in a breath and has to lean heavily against Sam's stupid car to stay upright. She's trembling, just a little bit, enough to blame on the cool weather and her lips are still tingling. She's not sure she'll ever manage to get them to stop. She gulps in a few much needed breaths of air and then buries her face in her hands so she can reapply her mask that has somehow slipped off.

''I'm gonna take a wild guess and say there's some history between you two.''

She looks up sharply and her eyes fall on the Campbell leaning against the wall. Huh. That is the most words she has ever heard him say. ''How long have you been standing there?'' When he shrugs and moves to stand next to her, she tenses for half a second before relaxing. If he notices her trembling - and she's sure he does - he doesn't say anything. ''It's nothing,'' she says at last, voice quiet. ''He's nothing.'' That's a lie. He's something all right. He's something fiery and passionate that she can't even begin to describe. What he means to her is a whole other can of worms she can't bring herself to close completely. She folds her arms over her chest and sends him a curious look.

Mark. She remembers his name is Mark. She'll have to hold onto that.

''Why are you here? Wouldn't things be easier for you if you hated me like the rest of your family does?''

Something begins to spread over his lips slowly. What is that? A smile? ''This may be news to you,'' he says in a quiet monotone. ''But we don't actually share a brain.''

She chuckles and looks up at the stars. They sparkle and shine like Dean's eyes when he smiles. She still hates that she remembers that. It's a secret she will never admit to anyone, but clinging to the sight of Dean's sparkly eyes and his smile and the sound of Sam's soothing voice was what got her through Hell the second time. That's her dirty little secret. She looks away from the stars that remind her of his eyes and turns her attention back to Mark. He is the exact opposite of Dean in many ways. He is quite and thoughtful and there is something decidedly sweet underneath all that scruff.

She thinks she'd like to keep him for awhile.

''You don't say much,'' she states bluntly, eyeing him carefully. ''Why is that?''

He looks at her like he's looking right through her, and he shrugs. ''It's easier.''

''Easier than what?''

He doesn't answer. Eventually, he pushes off the car, looks down at her with a small smile and tilts his head to the side. ''He was right about one thing.'' His fingers brush away a single loose strand of hair and then he drops his hand like he's afraid to touch her for any longer. ''Your hair looks better down.'' He leaves her there, standing in the moonlight, small smile never dropping off his lips.

She stays frozen in her spot, trying to think. When she's alone, she lets out a breath and a quiet laugh escapes her lips. The dull aching from Dean's crushing comments is gone and all she's left with is a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She reaches up to pull her hair free of the ponytail it's in.


It's an accident.

He doesn't mean to stumble across the last little bit of Ruby and that Campbell boy's conversation. He just does. Dean's fingers curl tight around the doorframe when Campbell touches her and he doesn't know why. There is is no reason for him to be bothered by this. He has Lisa. Even if he didn't, Ruby would never be...She'd never be his. He doesn't know why his stomach churns and his blood boils at the chemistry between those two.

He just knows he really wants Mark Campbell to step back and keep his fucking paws to himself.

And really, Dean? You can't have everything and everyone.

It doesn't work that way.


''Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.

These, our bodies, possessed by light.

Tell me we'll never get used to it.''


end chapter one


AN: And there you have it. The opening chapter. Just to warn you, the chapters are probably going to be short and fast because I'm just going to post it as I go. No plans, no nothing, just hot off the press chapters that flicker between everyone's point of view. Also, a note: The dialogue at the very beginning about how ''it's always going to be there'' is kind of a flash forward. In case you didn't get that.