spn_springfling | Rinse. Repeat. by kribban for polleekin

Title: Rinse. Repeat.
Pairing: Cas, Ruby, gen, background Sam/Ruby.
Rating: Mature
Any warnings: Torture, curse-words, body horror.

Possession is a weird gig. The body's yours, but the brain's still up there, blindly sending out signals. You get sense memories; chills down your spine, pangs of hunger. Sometimes even a real memory makes it through.

The first time Ruby rode a girl, the brain kept twitching for months after the soul had been snuffed out. A jumbled mess of words and images and feelings, that had left her seriously skeeved out.

But this body's different. The brain is fried.

It's tough work, rocking a brain dead meat suit. No external hard drive. Keeping the circulation going. Not being able to smoke out for long without risking post-mortem decomposition.

But on the plus side, it's quiet. She doesn't know a single thing about the previous tenant, which keeps the creepy down to zero.

The first time she sees an angel, she's up against the wall before she's stopped screaming. The angel's got a pretty meat suit if you're into the white-collar type of white guys. Ruby's not.

”Sam Winchester,” the angel says flatly, his hand tight around her throat. ”What are you doing with him?”

There's some small satisfaction in knowing her death will be truly epic. No one gets killed by angels anymore. Her tongue slips out to wet her lips. ”Fucking him, mostly.”

For a moment he just stares at her and then he brings his free hand up to her forehead. She braces herself, but the Coup de Grace doesn't come, and when she opens her eyes he is frowning. She lets out a nervous laugh.

”Sorry Apple Genius, but the hard drive's been wiped.”

The brain might be fried but the rest of the body is in tip top shape, strong and athletic, with just the right percentage of body fat to give that full-figured look. The cunt is strong too, and she does a lot of fucking Sam Winchester with it.

His trust in her grows with each life she lets him save. He is near-zealous in his determination and she tends to that fire carefully.

It's a delicate job, and she's careful not to go too hard, too fast. But some days she lets herself fantasize about what's in store for them, and she can barely contain her excitement.

The first time she sees an angel, she's been on the rack for almost an hour. The filthy blindfold is pushed down her nose and she blinks at the sight of the luminous, sterile creature. The face it's wearing could belong to any of the frustrated suburban dads who sell their souls for ten years of excitement. The clear blue eyes are completely dead.

”Who are you working for?”

There's no variation in pitch, but there's a slight trace of frustration in his voice. Interesting.

”I'm self-employed. I like the flexible work hours, you know?”

He lets out a sharp sigh and proceeds to literally pour salt into her wounds. Ruby thinks that deserves a laugh, but she's in a little too much pain at the moment.

”Are you trying to release Lucifer?”

He's put the salt down and is holding a knife like he doesn't know how to work one.

”Why would I want that deadbeat –”

The angel buries the knife in her uterus and repeats his question. The dead brain in Ruby's head is silent. There's no rush of adrenaline to ease her pain.

”Sorry.” She swallows a mouthful of blood and tips her chin up. ”I was confusing my dad with yours.”

Ruby's never been that gung-ho about family. She is deeply devoted to her father, but the feelings he inspires in her are closer to rational devotion than human love. It will never be hugs and piggyback rides and daily beatings with the strap between the two of them, and she's fine with that.

She would never want to be like Sam, who clings to his shards of a family like the world depends on it. It's an annoying weakness, but one that can't be fixed. Ruby accepted long ago that Sam will never be on their team unless his brother is alive and happy. She's graciously made room for Dean in her plans for the future; a Knight of Hell-gig, a giant stash of weapons, and an endless row of human women to save. With Hell on Earth, there'll be jobs for everyone.

On some days that future feels like a distant dream. She worries that Lillith will change her mind about that whole suicide thing. Sam's on track, and then he suddenly isn't. Demons are everywhere, and they all know her as a traitor.

The first time she's sees an angel, it saves her life. One moment the demon is choking her, the next he's a burned out husk on the ground. She looks up and blinks against the brightness of its contours, all that mass compressed like a star.

”I'm not going to hurt you.”

The angel holds out his hand, and she takes it. Soft. No callouses.

”Why did you help me?”

He glances towards the sky for a moment, then turns his gaze back at her. His lips are chapped. ”Because we're on the same side,” he says softly.

Zachariah lets out a roar and uses his pointy-tipped dragon wing to scoop up his tail.

”Are you absolutely sure?” his human face asks.

”She admitted it herself. Her real mission is manipulating Sam Winchester into releasing Lucifer from his cage.”

The tip of Zachariah's tail stills in his lap. He strokes it tenderly as if it's a pet and not a part of his own body.

”I'm sorry for misjudging you, Castiel. I didn't peg you for the type of angel who could make people talk.”

Castiel lifts the chin of his vessel. ”It wasn't hard. First I threatened her, then I tortured her, and finally, I lied.”

Zachariah's eyes sparkle, and he turns his human face away.

The first time Castiel meets the demon Ruby is in a decrepit old cabin. Uriel's lip curls in disgust, but Castiel pays no attention to her. Whatever the Winchesters are doing with a demon, it's not of immediate importance.