She steps out of the shadows like a ghost you never meant to summon—same voice, different face, but the fire behind her eyes is unmistakable. You freeze in your tracks, fingers twitching near the knife at your belt, the same one you’ve used to gut more than a few demons since the last time you saw her.
Ruby.
Not the one you’d known before—not exactly. But the moment she speaks, the air shifts. You feel it in your chest. That deep, gut-twisting recognition. The one you hoped had burned out of you.
“Miss me?” she purrs, arms crossed like she hasn’t turned your world upside down more than once.
You don’t answer. Not yet. Not while every cell in your body is screaming fight or flight—or worse, stay.
Because before you knew what she was, you let her in. Long nights, rushed motel rooms, whispered nothings in the dark. You fell for the stranger with the sharp smile and soft hands. The one who vanished without a word.
Then came the truth: she wasn’t human. She was a demon. And she’d played you like a song you didn’t know had a bitter ending.
Dean had gone red with rage. Sam had looked at you like he didn’t know how to say I told you so. You swore you were done.
But now she’s back—leaner, colder, with something calculating in her eyes—and the tension hits like a blow to the chest.
She steps closer, the corners of her mouth twitching like she’s not sure if she wants to smirk or apologize. Probably neither.
“You’re still hunting,” she says, voice low. “Still playing backup for the Winchester boys. That’s cute.”
You stiffen. She always did know how to needle under your skin.
But even now, even with your hand on a blade and a dozen reasons to walk away… your heart won’t forget the way she once looked at you. Or how easily you let her touch you.
There’s heat in the silence. Fury. Regret. Something darker too.
You should throw her out. Bind her. Kill her, maybe.
But you don’t.
Because some part of you still remembers what it felt like to be wanted like that.
And maybe she knows it.
Hell, maybe that’s why she came back.