Original thread http://community.livejournal.com/spnquotefic/10967.html?thread=660695#t660695
Dean: You did it to save her?
Evan: She had cancer, they had stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice. They kept saying, “Matter of days.” So, yeah, I made the deal. And I’d do it again. I’d have died for her on the spot.
Dean: Did you ever think about her in all this?
Evan: I did this for her.
Dean: You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself…so you wouldn’t have to live without her. But, guess what, she’s gonna have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she’d feel?
It's been 35 days...or was it 36 now? Sam couldn't remember and he hated himself even more for that.
36. It had to be 36 days since Dean had been torn apart by the Hellhounds.
33 days since he buried Dean in the middle of the woods where no one, where nothing would disturb him. Sam had been so certain then that he would find a way to bring him back.
Lying here now, next to Ruby, next to a demon he just...
Sam has nothing left but self-loathing and anger. It's in anger that he quietly pulls out Ruby's knife from behind his pillow, and it's in anger that he draws it slowly across her throat. Sparks flicker in the darkness as the magic in the knife senses what's beneath Ruby's borrowed skin. A small line of red appears, trickling. Her eyes open, solid back and she says "I don't sleep, Sam," but she doesn't stop him.
It's in despair that he pulls the knife down towards her chest, towards her abdomen drawing another shower of sparks and another fine red line. "This is where the Hellhounds sliced into Dean." He draws another next to the first, "and here," and a third, "and here."
Ruby hasn't made a move to stop him. She says "It's not your fault, Sam," and runs her hand through his hair, gently pushing his head down, so it rests against her belly.
Sam is crying silently, and he says,"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," and he kisses everywhere he drew the blade. He tastes copper and sulfur and if he could hate himself anymore he would, but he can't and he doesn't know why, he doesn't, but he can't stop, he doesn't want to.
There are stars in his mind and his body is on fire and he's never felt so whole. Ruby's blood tastes like Hell, but that's where he wants to be, that's where he should be, that's where he is.
It's been 35 days...