A/N: Just a short drabble-ish type of thing, spoilers for 4.10, Sam/Ruby if you squint really hard. Not betaed because...well, I didn't feel like sending it, lol. That's all.

Disclaimer: Yeah. Not mine.

Incentive

"You know what you have to do, Sam." She says, inching closer and unconsciously holding her midsection.

"Let me see that." He ignores the statement, diverting attention to the injuries of another; a common and usually effective tactic.

"It's nothing." She's not that easy. "Which is more than I can say for this craptastic situation we're in."

"Anna's got her mojo back. It'll be fine." He moves for the gauze and antiseptic anyway.

She laughs, softly but without mirth. "You look me in the eye and say that, Sam. This isn't just some reckless hunt for revenge anymore. You have demons gunning for you left and right and angels who would rather see you dead than helping. We both do. Don't you think you should be using every weapon you've got?"

"Yeah, well that's just it. You said it yourself; the angels would rather have me dead than help. At least that way. So the answer's still no, Ruby."

"This is about your brother, isn't it? You're afraid of what Dean will think if you go down this path." She moves closer still. "Well guess what, Sam. When Dean ends up dead, again, because you can't stop the next big-wig demon with one of your brother's bones to pick, things'll be different. What will you do, Sam? Will it be worth the risk of going "dark side" then?"

He doesn't answer, the gauze forgotten on the bed.

"I'm starting to see the way things work now. I should have known. You only want to get up off your ass and actually try when your brother's not around to do the job for you. Nice work ethic, Sammy."

"Shut up."

"You know, I'm starting to wish Dean hadn't come back at all. I mean, don't get me wrong, hell's no picnic, but you? You're different with this six foot shadow. And I can't really say it's better."

"I said, Shut. Up."

"Sure you were drunk out of your mind on occasion, wouldn't listen to simple instructions…but now…You're just sloppy. Useless. Poor Dean, he has to pick up all your slack."

She's against the wall before she can finish her sentence, Sam breathing hard and a furious glint in his eyes. It's about 1.2 seconds before she feels a painful tug from somewhere deep inside; she can feel him pulling her out.

"See, Sam?" she gasps, "That wasn't too hard now, was it?"

-End-