"Hell is," Weiss whispered, "knowing what you could've had. Knowing that there may have been a time and a place in which your dreams could have been realized." Her hands swam through the stain sheets, back arching as she stretched.

"Hell is knowing that it's in arm's reach. If only you could stretch your arms and close your fingers around the prize…" Weiss sits up.

"Ruby, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I am your own personal hell."

One

"Ruby. Wake up, sleepyhead. I've got breakfast for you. And I'm not going to let you eat it in bed, either. You're going to mess up the sheets."

Weiss pulled back the covers. Ruby squinted in the sunlight, rolling over and pulling the covers back over her head.

"Alright, then. I'll let you wake up on your own. But don't think that I'll heat up your breakfast for you. You can do all that all on your own."

Ruby thought back on her dream. It was a curious one. Hell. What a concept, she thought. A place where absolute despair reigns, a place where there was nothing left.

Not her privileged life. Not her apartment, with affordable rent. Not her stocked pantry, not her shower. Not her wardrobe. Nothing.

The oven dinged. Ruby groggily stepped out of bed, sliding into the bunny-eared slippers that Weiss had bought for her years ago. Their first date had been at the bakery. Weiss had made fun of her for that. Their second date had been at the grocery store, watching the lobsters fight.

Weiss made more fun of her for that.

"Ruby, your breakfast is warm. Please don't make me bring it to you."

The last thing on Ruby's mind before she drifted off again was how nice it would be to try to get Weiss back into the warm, comfy bed again.

It was so warm, under the covers with Weiss. Ruby felt her stirring in her arms, gently burrowing deeper into her.

"Weiss. What does hell mean to you?"

"Hm? Where did that come from?"

"Oh, just a weird dream. Nothing big."

"Well, don't eat before going to bed again. You get weird dreams like that."

"Okay."

Ruby wondered if they had lobsters at the grocery store. For old times' sake.

Weiss's phone was ringing. Ruby had heard this dozens of timed before. It was the same music that came out of her music box.

"Don't answer that. Lie here, with me. Just a little bit longer, m'kay? You can call them back later."

"And what if it's important?"

"Hm. Just, five minutes more, okay?"

"…okay."

"Later, let's go watch the lobsters fight."

It was amazing how fast everything disappeared when there were bills to be paid. The sudden onset of blindness in Weiss was an adversity that could have been traversed with the strength and support from loved ones. The finances, on the other hand, were not.

Insurance would not compensate expenses paid for a guide dog. Weiss refused a guide dog after learning that her family would not be contributing. Instead, Weiss did two things. She begged Ruby not to hold her father at gunpoint, and she claimed that she didn't need a guide dog. Ruby was her guide, she said. Weiss didn't know that Ruby quit her second job to honor that.

Insurance would not compensate expenses on prescription medications. Ruby sublet the cozy apartment that the two of them shared and instead rented a motel room at a yearly rate. Eventually, Ruby was forced to cut each pill in half.

Insurance would no longer compensate expenses if Weiss was no longer covered under her employer's plan. Her employer, under the protection of law, had made every request heard and tried, in vain, to provide accommodations. Unfortunately, Weiss was told that there was no longer anything the café could do to keep her onboard without tanking the store. Corporate made the executive decision. Ruby cancelled the rest of the year on the motel room and bought the cheapest car that ran.

Insurance would not compensate expenses when Ruby wrote, begging for coverage. The P.O box that Ruby rented was starting to cut into the nonexistent funds that Luna had set aside for food and clothing. But without the P.O box, there could be no home address, and therefore no possible way to complete job applications. Weiss noticed, belatedly, that Ruby's appetite had shrunken. Ruby did not want to watch the lobsters fight. Even though Weiss suggested it.

Insurance would not compensate expenses when Ruby and Weiss were arrested for panhandling. The hot food the officers bought them was appreciated, as was the shelter. The fine was not. Ruby begged for leniency, which was granted on the condition that the two were to be transferred to a shelter. Weiss to a shelter for the disabled, and Ruby to a halfway house next to the temp agency. The hesitation was obvious to the officers on duty, who offered to let them think on it. Ruby and Weiss took the opportunity to walk away from the police station and never look back.

Insurance would not compensate funeral expenses for Weiss. Ruby wondered why she wasn't the one who died. She was the one without a jacket, socks, or shoes. She was the one that insisted on sleeping with her back to the wind. And Weiss was the one that died during the night of February 21st.

Ruby dreamed of a hell where snow and hail howled throughout the never ending night.

Two

"Ruby, wake up. Let's get something to eat."

A fire crackled in the background. Weiss's hands were warm on Ruby's shoulder, gently shaking her awake.

"Hm? I had a dream…"

"Come on. Hurry up, I got the car warmed up."

"Fine, fine. Let me get dressed first."

Ruby tried to take her shoes off at the door, but Weiss stopped her.

"I want you to do something for me, Ruby. Can you run to the store for me? There's something that I forgot to pick something up."

"You never forget things."

"It happens to the best of us, Ruby. Can you bring me some eggs? And milk. Bread, too, as well. Go ahead and buy yourself something, too. Here. Wear this, you'll get cold otherwise. Be careful, you hear?"

"Hm… your scarf. It smells good. Like strawberries."

"I'm glad you like it. Now go. Stay strong, okay?"

For some reason, Ruby stopped and watched the lobsters for a while. It was entertaining, seeing them desperately crash their claws into each other, looking for an escape from the rubber bands that held them captive. Ruby thought it was sad, and funny, that even if they could get the rubber bands off they wouldn't be able to escape the tank.

Ruby dropped a box of cake mix into the cart and walked along the aisle. Weiss never did like cake; she claimed it was too sweet. Nevertheless, Ruby knew that Weiss would never complain. Weiss never complained about anything that mattered.

"Oh, you're back?" Weiss peered out from behind the refrigerator. "Give me the eggs. I want to bake a cake."

"Did we already have cake mix?"

"No. But I knew you'd buy some."

"It hasn't changed much, has it?" Weiss peered in the oven door, not bothering to turn the oven light off. She knew that one of them would turn it back on, anyways.

"No. Still flat. Reminds me a little bit of eggnog."

"The consistency of eggnog really isn't that great. The taste barely makes up for it."

Weiss rested her head in Ruby's lap. "The gods really are cruel," she whispered.

Ruby stiffened.

"They give us so much time together," Weiss said. "It was supposed to happen when you were gone. I should have known better than that. I should have gone with you. I shouldn't have wasted this time. They delayed it. They knew that I knew, just so that neither of us can escape." Weiss reached up and started playing with the frills on the end of the scarf she gave Ruby. "Then again, if anything ever happens in hell… it would be to maximize despair, right?"

"You lost me," Ruby said.

"I was supposed to die. Somehow, somewhere. I remember this one. This time, we're baking a cake." Ruby was straining to hear Weiss's words between the gasps. "I'm supposed to die. I know I will. And this scenario, the house burns down. It's happened before, and it will happen again. I tried. Sending you away, you know. So you don't have to see it."

The fire alarms blared.

"Help! Help! Help!"

"Please don't cry, Ruby."

Ruby dreamed of a hell where fire and brimstone rolled over her like a wave.

Three

"Ruby! We're supposed to leave for lunch in thirty minutes."

"Weiss. How many of my dreams were dreams?"

"How much did I tell you earlier?"

"You told me about hell. But not what it is."

"It's a special kind of hell. Just for the two of us. It's sad, really. You always see me die, over and over. And over. And over. Endless recursion. And me? I see your pain. Over. And over. And over."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I forgot. A long time ago. So long ago."

Lunch was forgotten. Instead, Ruby and Weiss lay wordless in bed.

"When do you die?"

"I don't always know, Ruby. I've never seen this one before. Not this recursion."

"Last time, it changed. Because I was gone. You lived."

"Only for a little bit, Ruby. Only for a little bit."

"You HAVE to live. You can't not. It's not right. You just can't."

"Ruby, it's wonderful to hope." Weiss hugged Ruby. "You're going to leave me, right?"

"Yes. Does it work?"

"Not for me. But if it's you, then maybe something can change. Here, take this. A little memento, just in case. Stay strong."

Weiss slipped the scarf over Ruby's head, tying it over itself. With a gentle tug, she set the scarf. Ruby didn't have the heart to stay any longer.

Ruby dreamed of a hell where water invaded her lungs, dragging her down into the depths of the abyss.

Four

Ruby rose from the bed. She didn't talk to Weiss, who was sipping coffee at the table. She didn't take the scarf, this time. She didn't stop by the supermarket, didn't stop by the lobster tanks. The freezing wind bit into her, but she didn't stop. When she had the breath, she sprinted, always in one direction, never faltering. She kept wishing that for once, it was her. That for once, a car would spin out of control, and she would be in its path.

Anything so it wasn't Weiss this time.

No contact from Weiss. It would be hard, anyways, considering that Ruby left her phone. But no contact. Not even a thought, not even those memories that haunted her. Not memories of strawberry shortcake that was baked for her on her 22nd birthday. No scarves. No late night dinner runs, no cafés where Weiss dropped coffee grinds on herself.

Ruby dreamed of a hell where height meant nothing save for the inevitable fall, where it wasn't flying, just falling.

Seven

Ruby didn't want to wake up.

"Ruby, please. Please wake up."

"No."

"Yes. Please! Please. For me." Weiss pulled on Ruby's arm. "Ruby, please. What else do I have? I have thirty hours. Even if it hurts, I want to spend them with you."

Eventually, Weiss gave up. Ruby heard the soft click of the bedroom door, and the louder thump of the refrigerator.

"I'm sorry, Weiss. Just let me have this one moment of weakness. And then I'll be strong. So you don't have to live your hell through by seeing me so weak. If I can't show you my pain anymore, then you can't see it. And then you'll be free."

"Strawberry."

"But the lime was on sale. Anyways, it's not like the different flavors taste any different," Weiss pouted.

"Yeah, Weiss, but it's green. It's a weird color. Red's prettier anyways."

"Well, it doesn't matter if it looks different if you're going to eat it anyways."

They were shopping. The supermarket. They were going to bake a cake.

"Lobsters! Look! Look at them go!" Ruby pranced off in the direction of the seafood.

"Ruby! Wait! And don't yell in the store, it's embarrassing!"

The ones with the purple bands were Gerald. Gerald, plural. And the ones with the blue bands were Jerry. Neither Weiss nor Ruby felt attached enough to single out specific lobsters. Anyways, none of them lasted long enough to visit more than once or twice before they were sold.

"That one doesn't care. Like a honey badger. See, it's just walking over the rest of them."

"Which one? The Gerald over there?"

"Yeah. See? Oh, he fell."

The cake tasted delicious. Strawberry shortcake, Ruby called it. Weiss called it store-bought cake with red frosting.

Ruby dreamed of a hell where the ground sank under her feet, dragging her deeper and deeper down.

Eight

"That was a wonderful cake we had, last time," Weiss said. The words were somewhat muffled through Ruby's arms.

"I thought you didn't like strawberry?"

"Shows what you know. You okay? You looked a bit down last time."

"Mhm."

"I know what you're doing. Please, don't put the soldier face one. It makes me sadder."

Ruby rolled over.

They went sledding. Ruby brought canola oil to coat the bottom of the sleds, which ended up staying in the car. Weiss didn't want to bring it anyways, saying that it'd be too fast. Besides, what would happen if they hit a tree?

Ruby almost wished they did.

Ruby dreamed of a hell where snow drowned out the world, washing out the color. And there was somebody that she cared about, but she couldn't think straight. Maybe after a nap…

Thirty-Five

"Breakfast?"

"Yes, please. In bed?"

"Sure. I don't think we'll have time to go to bed again, anyways."

Weiss tried green ham and eggs. Ruby thought they tasted kind of off.

Ruby dreamed of a hell where… a hell. A hell? A flat, grey world.

One Hundred and Sixty-Five

"Ruby, wake up. Let's go play in the snow."

"Okay."

"We can build a snowman. What are we going to name it this time?"

"Gerald."

"That name's taken! Try again."

"Jerry."

"Ruby… are you even trying, anymore?"

Ruby dreamed of a hell where she was wearing a scarf, and there was a voice saying, "Please, be strong", but she couldn't place it. And it was so familiar…

###

"Ruby, do you want to talk?" Weiss snuggled into the crock of Ruby's arm.

"No, don't worry about it. I'm fine."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"Hm."

Ruby dreamed of a hell.

It made sense. It didn't make sense to me. Ruby, making sense? She usually doesn't do this. It's always something exciting and fun. Like the battle between the Geralds and the Jerries. But I loved it.

Now she's so different. It's the same body, but there's nobody home. I don't want to think about it, but if I went through hundreds of recursions, is it possible that she went through more?

What if she's broken?

I don't want to think about it. There's only one other person here with me. My partner in crime, Ruby Rose. And I have to keep her safe.

It isn't hell if I focus on the time that I spend with her, right? If I just…if I just focus on the good, then it's all just an illusion, right? If I'm happy, then Ruby should be happy. And then I should be happy.

So then why doesn't it work that way?

It doesn't hurt anymore. It does, physically. But it's nothing new. Dying here isn't very exciting if nothing ever comes of it.

I always wake up earlier than Ruby. I like to get up, get washed, do my hair, and start breakfast. She likes bacon and eggs, sometimes with sausage. It's a bit of a heavy breakfast, but it's good and it's filling. She doesn't tire of eating this, so I don't mind cooking it every time. She usually wakes up about halfway through cooking, and then she lies around in bed for a while before I have to go and get her. She tried to go back asleep, and sometimes, she burrows into the blankets. It's a bit adorable. She calls it a Ruby burrito. It always makes me smile.

This time, no burrito. No Ruby in bed, either. She's already dressed and is sitting on the edge of the bed, putting socks on.

"Hello, Ruby. Good morning."

"Good morning."

"Breakfast? I think it's almost done now."

"That would be excellent. Thank you."

Nothing else. Just the basics of the conversation, and nothing else. It's scary how robotic she's become. Almost like her goal is just to make it to the end of the day.

Sometimes, I wonder if I was right. Was the hell that I was assigned to forever watch Ruby in pain? Watch her, watching me, and despair over the fact that I couldn't do anything for her? Now that Ruby's in sorts like this, it makes me think the real hell is watching Ruby slowly kill herself like this.

Ruby doesn't wake up early. She doesn't get dressed until I make her get dressed, and then I get to pick what she wears. Now, she's wearing khakis and a white collared shirt. It's so bland. Nothing like the flannels she likes on cold winter mornings, or even like one of those ugly sweaters I knitted for her.

She looks like she needs to be in the cubicle by 9.

"Hey. Aren't you cold? This shirt is too thin."

"No. This is fine, thank you."

"I think you're cold."

When I hug her, I know she's lying. She's cold, so cold. But she doesn't press into me like she usually does. It's like hugging a statue.

"See? You're cold. Here. You need this, more than I do." I give her my scarf again.

She doesn't even put it on. She just lays it down on the bed. So I take it back off the bed, and wrap it around her neck.

"See? Doesn't it feel much nicer now?"

"Yes. It does. Thank you."

"Soo… do you want to see a movie? We can watch something you pick."

"No, that's alright. I don't have a preference."

"Okay. I'll pick. Again. What do you want to eat?"

"Anything is alright."

It's not Ruby. It's not Ruby. It's not Ruby.

Maybe she's gone. Maybe there's nothing left for me here. Just a dead, hollow shell.

One last check. I don't want to give up on her, but if she's gone, really truly gone, then maybe I should just let myself go too.

I have to know if there's anything in there.

The knife block has a really long knife in it. It's sharp, I know that much. Once, Ruby accidentally killed me with it. I don't fault her for that; she didn't mean to. But the real point here is the knife. It only takes a little bit of resolve to steel my nerves.

Just breathe. Slowly. Feel the weight in the blade, hold it straight out. Steady. Calm. Point forwards, eyes forwards.

Deep breath.

"Ruby, can you open this jar for me?"

"Hm? Yes, give me one second."

She's looking up. No time for hesitation, otherwise she'll slip back into inattention.

It's not that hard to thrust a knife. If it wasn't a brute of a tool and a weapon instead, I could do it easily. This time, it didn't go clean through. No meat on my bones, Ruby would say.

It's cold.

"Weiss?"

I try to answer, I really do. But something about the knife makes it so that it's hard to draw breath, and the only sound I can make is a gurgle.

"Weiss! Weiss! What are you doing?"

I can't talk. But I can touch. I take her hand, and I squeeze. Ruby's crying now. I can't remember. Was this hell? Watching the tears roll out of her eyes?

I feel so bad. I want her to stop crying.

I wipe the tears off of her cheeks.

Ruby dreams of a hell. I'm there too. I've been so worried about her. Her eyes aren't clear anymore. They can't focus, and as I watch, they slowly tremble.

There's a grand oak. No leaves on it, just macabre Christmas ornaments swinging in the breeze. Delicate little bodies, in concert, being swept to and fro by the wind. On each one of them, a scarf flutters, and hair fans out in the breeze.

Every single failure is here. Every single body, every creak and groan of the old oak, is one more failure to run from this hell.

I squeeze Ruby's hand, and close my eyes.