Castiel was one thing, Sam was getting to be okay with their friendship, much as she was pretty sure Cas and his crush on her still bothered Sam. Not that she really understood why, nothing would ever happen. Unless, she supposed it could be like her issue with Darcy. He knew Ruby would never stray but the fact the other person was interested like that caused issue. The fact that they didn’t have enough respect to hide their attitudes. It was something she understood more now than she thought she could have. Sam and Cas she could work on. But her husband could never have approved of Crowley even if she’d still been a demon. But he was right. With her demon power gone, with Crowley as the only one she could go to and fuel her dark magic, she was pretty much out of luck there too. No magic, no powers. She was pretty much nothing. And now she was supposed to seek out witches like Mel, to learn the magic she’d always laughed at and called weak. The hedge magic she’d never bothered with cause you could always do more with a little blood sacrifice and pledges to a demon. When she’d been a demon herself, she’d found it easier. Back in the day she’d had whores of her own calling on her power, and she’d answered them now and again because they’d fueled her. But not since Sam.
And now unless she wanted to follow the path of the whore again, there had to be something new. Margarida had made a choice, and the one from the other world had made the complete opposite one. Maybe she, as a human could chose another option. Because human or not, she wasn’t Margarida. “I won’t go to Crowley, maybe if I do magic, I’ll do the...y’know, the good stuff. Less blood more crystals and flowers and dirt and whatever.” It wasn’t the same, and it would never give the same rush as the darker arts of magic did. But then she supposed she shouldn’t want that rush anymore. “Its another thing I have to go begging for though.” Sam for guns, Jo for knives, Mel maybe for the magic, maybe she’d ask Mary to teach her how to cook again since...
Well now, that was a concern.
“I have to eat. I mean, I have before but I never had to. Now its a thing I have to...if I eat like I was I’ll give this girl a heart attack before she’s...before I’m fifty. ...I’m going to be fifty Sam. I’m going to be fourty!. I...can’t. I don’t know how I...” She cut herself off before she started again. If nothing else, he was gonna be fourty and fifty, and she supposed that was a ways away yet. She had to start thinking in days and months and years again. They meant something now. They meant a lifetime with Sam, but only the one.
Yeah, more whiskey. More whiskey seemed like the best plan ever right then. So as he talked about discovering a tolerance to pain, Ruby let him finish patching her finger up only half listening, and taking from it that she had another thing she needed to just learn from scratch. It was bothersome, but not a thought for now. Sam lead her across from the kitchen to their living room as the animals seemed to shy back sensing they perhaps needed some alone time. Schmoopie did run along their legs as they stood, showing some affection as she supposed dogs did, Fluffball had already done her bit. Being a cat and all Ruby wasn’t gonna push her.
Sam said he wasn’t angry. He said that yeah it was harder but he told Ruby that they’d deal with it. That they’d be careful. And it had come to that. They just plain had to be. There were no two ways about it, she was a liability and she had to come to terms with that. She’d chosen alcohol. She’d test the limits of the body, she’d see what she could do to it, and she’d have Sam there to keep her safe. When they reached the couch, Ruby let Sam take a seat on it first before positioning herself so that she was lying against him, her head resting in his lap, her dark hair flowing across behind her. She needed the closeness. She needed her husband.