It had been one hell of a struggle, fighting that urge to yank his mouth back and spit up the blood that he'd swallowed down. Every part of his mind was protesting it, begging him to stop it. It was disgusting. His stomach began to listen to his mind and, for a brief moment, Sam had forced his mouth away from the gash, drawing in uneven breaths as he tried to keep his stomach from turning over entirely. While doing so, however, he felt something else stir on the inside. A force battling the nausea. It was something much stronger.
Strong. And warm. He remembered this feeling. He had felt a tiny bit of it before during that night in the kitchen. Except there was already more of it in him, judging from the couple mouthfuls of it blood that he had choked down already. The disgust shrunk away and that curiosity quickly stepped into it's place, demanding that he duck back into the battle and try to take in a few more for the team while he still had the chance.
Fingers still wrapped around Ruby's wrist, Sam knelt forward again and began to suck at the wound with a hint of more energy than before.
She was right, wasn't she? He could hear her speaking. Reminding him that what they were doing was perfectly fine. He knew that it wasn't, not really, but in that moment he began to believe her.