Ruby

Just a small story about what may have happened to Ruby after Lucifer Rising, the season 4 finale of Supernatural. Fanfic.

    Ruby cowered in the corner of her little glass holding cell, clutching tightly to her knees and praying - yes, praying - that the time would pass slowly. Or that she would die. Or that, by some insane miracle, Sam would find and rescue her. Of course she knew that was an unrealistic hope. Sam would never forgive her. She’d cared more about being a good little soldier than she had for him. She knew now that she was wrong; of course she did. Now that it was too late. Isn’t that how it worked? Her meat-suit was starting to smell and seemed to be full of holes, unignorable scabs and irritating half-healed scars. Half-healed scars that would just be reopened later. They’d never heal. She wanted a shower. A break. She wanted to rest. She wanted to not be scared every second of every day and in pain every single moment. She knew she’d brought this punishment upon herself. She knew that, by not killing Dean and letting him kill her, Lucifer was going to be furious. Just like she knew there was no way out of this torture. Every day, she tried to remind herself that this was what she deserved. What she’d created. She’d known Lucifer wouldn’t let her die. Now she couldn’t even leave her meat-suit. Trapped for eternity in a dead coma patient.
    
    The other prisoners surrounding her were resigned to their torment. They didn’t fight, they didn’t scream, they didn’t move much. They’d look at her sometimes, and there’d be nothing in there eyes. Glassy blank stares all around. She wondered sometimes if the torture even phased them. She couldn’t imagine Alistair had lost his touch. If anything, she thought, he’d gotten more creative. If you’d asked her a year ago, she’d have told you it wasn’t possible. Alistair was the king of torture. Over a millenia of hands on experience, he had techniques, devices, contraptions, and toys that could make the most hardened soldiers scream like little girls. His voice alone was enough to set your nerves on edge.
    
    Ruby rested her head on her knees, trying not to think. If she could only clear her head... Forget, for just a moment, about everything. About her mistakes, about the torture, about Alistair’s slithery, disgusting voice, about Sam’s arms, Sam’s lips, Sam’s eyes, Sam’s hands, Sam’s voice, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam.... She screamed. Long, ragged and wordless. Silently begging for a distraction, any distraction. She’d loved him. Truly loved him. Her job was to make him fall for her, seduce him, manipulate him into thinking Lilith had to die rather than the other way around, and it had worked, but she hadn’t counted on falling for him. It was the whole reason she’d refused to kill Dean once the cage was opened and ultimately accepted that he or Sam would kill her. It was a fate she could deal with. She knew she’d deserved it, and she played the facade till her last breath. She should have at the very least came out and told Sam she loved him. Would he ever know that she died for him? That she endured this worse version of Hell for him? Did he even know this place existed? She was guessing not.
    
    Not Hell, not purgatory, but a place in the Earth. A place where all the naughty monsters went to suffer the consequences of not following orders or just pissing a higher level demon off. Humans ended up there too. A lot. Probably the devil’s best kept secret, not even angels knew it existed, as far as she knew. It wasn’t written about. Mostly because no one ever escaped. They say Hell’s a prison. Hell’s a half-way house by comparison. Or, maybe Hell’s an American prison and this place was a Thai prison camp. Hell was an all-expense paid vacation after seeing this place.
    
    Occasionally, Ruby had a reason to smile; laugh, even. Lilith’s ‘chamber’ wasn’t far from hers, and sometimes she’d hear her scream. She enjoyed that. Whoever had the bright idea to lock Lilith up in the-place-worse-than-Hell had the right idea. Hell was Lilith’s playground; a prison for everyone, but seemingly her and Alistair, who both loved it. Hearing Lilith beg for mercy was a highlight in Ruby’s crappy, tormented existence.
    
    “I Only Have Eyes For You” by The Flamingos started to play over the intercom, and Ruby pressed her hands hard to her ears, squeezing her eyes shut. It was like a bad joke. Yes, let’s torture the crap out of everyone with bad oldies... Something your grandmother’s grandmother would’ve been dancing to at her prom. If anything made Ruby want to scream, it was that! She didn’t know who was in charge down here, but she wanted desperately to bite their face off for their bad taste in music. Ruby rolled over onto her side, laying against the cool cement ground, pulling her knees in tight to her chest, her hands still clapped over her ears, and she cried. What else was she supposed to do? Horrible music, horrible pain, persistent and painful-enough-to-be-horrible memories of Sam flooding her mind everyday, all day, non-stop like a screaming echo of something that could never be and never should have been... 

Author's Note

just would like to know how I can make this better, more complete, etc... What you like, don't like, would change.... o.O yep...