Being allowed into the inner sanctum of the Boy King at first is odd, not only because she expected to stay rotting in purgatory for the rest of her life, but because it seems that Sam wants to keep her close and not just so he can supervise what she’s doing. He’s different now, not only because he’s bad, but because he’s cold in a way she never thought was possible. Sam had always been warm, never this calculating. It’s strange, but it’ll take her a while to get used to it, not that she would show that to him voluntarily, though he could probably read them no matter what she wanted. After all, she was his subject now. He could kill her and make her skip even purgatory if he wanted. She was his to manipulate; not the other way around. It was an odd role reversal, but she knew better than to complain. She’s been given her orders to strip, get clean and be ready to be presented to him. The humiliation isn’t surprising, she did the same to him, though she didn’t live to see it properly. Dean had rammed her knife through her chest and Sam wasn’t quick enough to save her, nor had harnessed his powers fully, but now that had obviously changed and she couldn’t help but shiver as she was directed towards the shower, luckily, it was private, but she wasn’t surprised that Sam wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her, but him. The water’s probably three shades too hot, scalding at her skin, but she doesn’t react instead making sure that she’s completely clean. It’s only then that she notices that she isn’t alone in the room and she stands up straight, not daring to look around. “Sam?”
❝Ruby, baby, long time no see, huh?❞ sam's stronger now. all of that time they had wasted when they were playing boyfriend and girlfriend had finally done something good. now he doesn't even need demon blood to feel like he's on top of the world. all he has to do is concentrate, feel the ripple of power sweep through his muscles, and let go. when dean had first watched it, he had drawn back in fear, shouted something about how sam was a monster -- but sam hadn't let that bother him. it was common to hear those words now. the boy king does have better things in mind now that he's older, stronger, and quicker. he put the fear in those who hadn't believed he would be capable of accepting his nature and controlling those who had opposed him. now, all the little rebels were being burned out. those hunters who had tried to kill him all those months ago? they were dead. the people who tried to help dean, keep him safe from harm? they were dead too. sam didn't like it when his things weren't kept close by, and now he's finally gotten his hands on ruby. sam wouldn't go so far as to say he had ever loved her, but he hadn't ever hated her. in fact, there had been a point in his life when he had thought she and dean were going to become friends. when dean had learned what she had done for him in that six month span that dean was gone, he had thanked her for it. he hadn't tried to kill her. there had been hope. the boy king still revels in the mirror of his brother's body slamming down into the table, gives a silky purr as he remembered the pained gasping and writhing because poor dean's spine almost snapped right then and there.
