Ruby was strong. Not physically, heavens no, but mentally. She was usually cool, collected, strong-willed, stubborn, and smart. She made herself to be the perfect leader. And she had to be. With the fate of the world resting on her ability to lead, there was no room for mistakes. No room to slow down. No room for any tiny little misstep, lest everything come down around her at once. And she was fine with that.
Or at least she liked to think she was.
She liked to be in control, no doubt about it, but sometimes the responsibility that came with that control wore her thin. Everything she did could mean the success or the loss of a mission. The life or death of countless innocent civilians. The destruction or continuance of humanity itself. Even the fate of her teammates rested on her ability to be absolutely perfect. Any time anyone else messed up, she was immediately there to pick up the slack and take it in stride. And so it went every single day. Every single mission. No mistakes. No wiggle room. No time to breathe.
And in some part of her, deep down, she hated that. All the things that made her need to push down her emotions and lash out at any potential threats to the functions of the well oiled machine she had so carefully constructed. Because beyond everything she made herself to be, she still cared. Almost too much. Not that she would ever admit it.
Every time her teammates, her friends were injured or nearly killed, she had to swallow down a lump of panic in her throat. Every time she heard a body count for a particularly rambunctious villain that they were too slow to stop completely, she needed to force away the tears that threatened to gather in her eyes. Every single time, she was reminded that all of that was because of a single little misstep she had made. A simple missed calculation.
Heathcliff's betrayal had hit her like a volley of arrows through the chest. Sharp and unforgiving, it had pierced her through to the bone. The moments when she had pushed him off that icy cliff had been the worst moments of her life. The shock, horror, and utter betrayal on his face as he looked at her when he fell hit her like a brick. But she didn't show it. Would never show it. Instead she once again forced everything down and locked it away, keeping up her front. After all, there was no crying over spilled milk. Or rather, no crying over dead teammates. She would continue moving, like she always had. There was no time for mourning when she knew full well from the start that any of them could die at any moment. It was just part of the job.
And so she continued. Through the time when Simon tried to take over the world's technology. Through the time when he broke out of the mental hospital and nearly took control of the multiverse after pretending to help them. Through the time the villain virus took hold of the world, and nearly destroyed everything. And through the time when her friends had been erased one by one, leaving only Heathcliff, Brand, and herself to save the world from an imminent takeover.
She would never admit the all consuming horror she had felt when they started being erased. She knew she cared about them much more than she should. She knew she should always have kept them at arms length, lest she get hurt if one of them happened to die. It was in the job, and she tried to force herself not to care. Force herself to stay distant.
And yet, she never could. She still cared all too much.
However, even despite that, she still carried on. She had to. Because she was the leader, and she had no room for any mistakes.
And she was fine with that. She had to be.