"She realized how pathetic you all were," Sam spat out in irritation. He wasn't about to have a heart-to-heart with Meg, of all people. Certainly not one about Ruby and himself. Telling her about his relationship with Ruby would only give Meg some sort of twisted satisfaction. She would find a way to use that information against him somehow, whether it be in the form of taunting him or out of revenge later on down the road. As badly as Sam wanted to kill Meg for all that she had done, they both knew that she wasn't going to be shoved into that never-ending darkness yet. She would return to the pit. And in doing so, Sam was pretty sure that Meg would dig her way right back up to the surface again. It wasn't like she hadn't managed it before. He'd be seeing her again, all right. But next time? It would be the last. "That's just the start of the story. The first page." Sam snatched the cup of blood from Meg's grip. He sniffed at it, mouth twisting in a grimace in response to the scent. It even smelled wrong. "Everything else is too in depth for you to possibly comprehend." Love. Meg would never get it. She wasn't capable.
Sam strode around the side of the car again. He didn't want Meg watching him. Her blood was tainted and wrong; it was what he needed, but it certainly wasn't the demon blood that he wanted. Sam paced the front end of the car, eying the cup of blood in a fixated sense of pure distaste. He had to drink it. Ruby's life depended on it.
Sam placed the cup to his lips and drank the warm blood down.
The taste was wrong. Sam hated it.
He cast the empty cup to the ground and moved for the trunk. "The knife." Sam tilted his head to the side, gesturing to the ground. "Throw it out." He didn't want her trying to carve through the trap suspended above her head. Meg wasn't getting out of this. She was going back to hell. "And if you call me Sammy again?" Sam raised his brows. "Ruby's body or not, I will kill you."