Who: Ruby & Sam Winchester What: What had she done? Where: Their kitchen When: Later in the day after Gabriel made her human Rating: TBD Status: In Progress
She'd moved from the bed only to feed the animals. Fluffball had curled around her feet, noting that her owner didn't feel quite right, not like she'd used to. Ruby had had her from a kitten so she was the one animal that hadn't shied away from her. Even the boundlessly affectionate Schmoopie had been spooked by her now and again. But now he licked happily at her hand as Ruby put down food for their pets, almost on autopilot. She'd just been on her phone talking to Sam. Bitching again that humanity would be easier than her life as a demon, easier on both of them. But who was she kidding. She was weak. She was so so weak and she hated it. She'd felt it almost at once, the angelic power had taken hold and ripped the demon out of her, leaving...well who knew. Ruby had no idea what he'd done, because she was still herself. Only weak now, weak and pathetic and untrained and a burden. How had she ever believed it would be any different.
Not thinking she'd cut her hand on the dogs food tin. Normally it would be a rush to get a cloth, wipe up any blood that might have spilled, cover the smell of the sulfur in the air that would have driven Sam mad. And the cut would heal, it'd heal easily and quickly. But not anymore. It was just a small cut, but it bled. And it hurt. And Ruby hated it more than she could ever imagine. It stayed there, garish and red, a perfect sign of her weakness now.
She'd brought this on herself. And it was only fair that she suffered, for every life she'd taken, for every cruelty she'd inflicted. For the countless girls she'd taken over and destroyed, right up to the nameless one that she'd found herself dealing with. This was punishment. This was some kind of angelic penance and she'd just have to deal.
She'd wanted it hadn't she.
So she bit back on the very real instinct that told her to run to Crowley with her shiny new soul on a silver platter, all so he'd fix her. She'd fight like Sam wanted her to fight and get used to this, to being so weak and vulnerable. To being able to die so easily. She'd deal with it.
But she didn't make it back to the bedroom. She sat at the counter, still barefoot in the shorts and tee she'd been wearing when she'd come downstairs to deal with the pets. Her focus was on the cut on her hand. The blood that now meant so little but so much all at the same time. It was just blood now, just another symbol of just how mortal and fragile she was now. Ruby sat staring at it, unable to do very much else. Weak, mortal.