Tampered. The phrasing and hearing her suspicions out loud made her lips twitch a little in annoyance. Whatever Landel had done to knock out that time was messy and some serious heavy hitting stuff. Demons didn't just forget things. Time as a human, maybe. Some of them seemed to have pushed it away or let it get torn out of them downstairs -- but actual, demonic memories?
There was a chance whatever had gotten in her and made her attack Sam had wiped her clean, or there was a chance Landel had brought her in for a personal reboot conditioning session. Either way, it made her wonder what else had happened to her and if there was still something wrong inside. Considering how fritzy her radar had been, she wouldn't be surprised if the vessel-lock had kept her from noticing something else hanky.
But, everything else Sam said made sense. Throw big brother a bone so he didn't go chasing after the whole damn dinner table. It'd keep him busy, keep him at bay, and make Sam feel a little better about all the lies if he could open up about some small things. Sure, she could tell he wasn't wholly happy about it -- whether that was because of how Dean was looking at him (she'd seen enough of the judgey look to know how it stung) or because he wanted to home run with the honesty, she couldn't say. But he'd deal, he was a trooper, and it seemed to ease some of that by reminding him a.) what Dean would think of it and remind him why this something to hide, and b.) let him feel like less of a secretive asshole.
"All right." she didn't seem too bothered, giving a nod of confirmation and understanding. When she realized it might seem a little weird that she was so on board the communication with Dean train, she sighed and began to explain. "Look, it wasn't exactly like we were dealing with him being in the dark," she nearly said back home, but Sam's edition of back home was dean-free, so she treaded cautiously and adjusted her words seamlessly, "before he went downstairs. He knew what Azazel did to you, right? So, he's just caught up a little bit."
It seemed like the obvious solution to her and honestly she was kind of impressed that Sam had been able to work it up on his own like that. She needed to give him more credit in that department. He wasn't just a soldier, he was a strategist, and that was part of why she was so attached.
"He doesn't know it's mine," the demon blood. The word was messy. Talking about it was messy. Ruby liked to avoid it at all costs because calling it what it was would make Sam squirm, she knew that much. Hell, sometimes she thought the idea made her squirm. There was something akin to searching for confirmation, though. God damn him if he had seriously thrown that out there. "And he doesn't know what we're doing," it came out more confidently. "That's the important part. Compared to what we could be dealing with? I'd say we're at crisis level orange. I'm not worrying about it, and neither should you. Dean's not a problem."
A smile worked its way onto her features. The fond, proud kind that Sam always warranted from her, mixed with reassurances that he wasn't alone in this and that he had her there to support him. Support him like Dean never would -- never could -- and back him. No matter what his choices were.
no subject
There was a chance whatever had gotten in her and made her attack Sam had wiped her clean, or there was a chance Landel had brought her in for a personal reboot conditioning session. Either way, it made her wonder what else had happened to her and if there was still something wrong inside. Considering how fritzy her radar had been, she wouldn't be surprised if the vessel-lock had kept her from noticing something else hanky.
But, everything else Sam said made sense. Throw big brother a bone so he didn't go chasing after the whole damn dinner table. It'd keep him busy, keep him at bay, and make Sam feel a little better about all the lies if he could open up about some small things. Sure, she could tell he wasn't wholly happy about it -- whether that was because of how Dean was looking at him (she'd seen enough of the judgey look to know how it stung) or because he wanted to home run with the honesty, she couldn't say. But he'd deal, he was a trooper, and it seemed to ease some of that by reminding him a.) what Dean would think of it and remind him why this something to hide, and b.) let him feel like less of a secretive asshole.
"All right." she didn't seem too bothered, giving a nod of confirmation and understanding. When she realized it might seem a little weird that she was so on board the communication with Dean train, she sighed and began to explain. "Look, it wasn't exactly like we were dealing with him being in the dark," she nearly said back home, but Sam's edition of back home was dean-free, so she treaded cautiously and adjusted her words seamlessly, "before he went downstairs. He knew what Azazel did to you, right? So, he's just caught up a little bit."
It seemed like the obvious solution to her and honestly she was kind of impressed that Sam had been able to work it up on his own like that. She needed to give him more credit in that department. He wasn't just a soldier, he was a strategist, and that was part of why she was so attached.
"He doesn't know it's mine," the demon blood. The word was messy. Talking about it was messy. Ruby liked to avoid it at all costs because calling it what it was would make Sam squirm, she knew that much. Hell, sometimes she thought the idea made her squirm. There was something akin to searching for confirmation, though. God damn him if he had seriously thrown that out there. "And he doesn't know what we're doing," it came out more confidently. "That's the important part. Compared to what we could be dealing with? I'd say we're at crisis level orange. I'm not worrying about it, and neither should you. Dean's not a problem."
A smile worked its way onto her features. The fond, proud kind that Sam always warranted from her, mixed with reassurances that he wasn't alone in this and that he had her there to support him. Support him like Dean never would -- never could -- and back him. No matter what his choices were.
"You did good, Sam."