Where Nobody Knows Your Name.
Chapter 4.
"Home," Ruth echoes, quietly, and it is abundantly clear that this is not the scenario she has envisaged for her return. She thinks of the country, the people, the life she left behind and, for a moment, is sorely tempted to grab at it with both hands but she knows that returning from the grave won't be a simple affair. She's not naive enough to think that she can just waltz back into Ruth Evershed's shoes; it's not just a sense a self-preservation that holds her back, it's the knowledge that her return will hurt those who once grieved for her all over again. She swallows and meets Jo's gaze, "I'm not sure I can, I don't even-"
"No-one would know you were there," Jo cuts her off, sensing the rising panic that is starting to take hold of Ruth.
"No-one was supposed to know I was here but you managed to find me," she shoots back, visibly rattled.
"We need you, Ruth," Jo responds, softly, choosing to ignore the remark. She knows she could easily manipulate her into agreeing but respects her too much to sink to that level. She can tell it is the right thing to say and remains silent as Ruth takes a few calming breaths and then nods her head slowly.
"When should we leave?"
The blonde checks her watch and then reaches for her drink. "We have a few hours."
---
"You haven't told me everything," Ruth states, casually, as she wanders back into the living room carrying a small, nondescript holdall.
"No," she whispers and suddenly wishes she could be somewhere, anywhere, else. "It won't be easy to hear."
"Someone died," Ruth states, instinctively, as she sits on the angular sofa that covers the back wall of the apartment.
Jo reaches for her cigarettes and lights up again, crushing the now empty packet in her hand as she nods her affirmation. "Yes," she breathes and the word tumbles out between a cloud of blue smoke.
"Adam?" Ruth asks, voice shaking, as her fingers fiddle with the handle of her bag.
"And Zaf." Jo cringes at the sudden grief etched across Ruth's face and wishes she hadn't been the one to burden her with the knowledge of their deaths. She knows there will be questions, knowing Ruth they will be insightful and endless, but she's not sure if she has the strength to face them. From experience, and more than a few sleepless nights, she knows that, in their world, there are always more questions than answers. She grinds the remainder of her cigarette into the makeshift ashtray and moves to sit beside a silently weeping Ruth. "I miss them so much," she confesses and, for the first time in months, she gives in to the tears she can feel welling in her eyes. Ruth's hand is surprisingly warm as it rests on top of hers and together they sit and cry for the men they have known and lost.
"Will you tell me what happened?" Ruth asks, eventually, and Jo gives a weary nod. Her voice is soft and melodic as she describes the events surrounding first Zaf's and then Adam's demise. It feels strangely cathartic to be discussing it with someone who wasn't present but who knows both men just as intimately as she did. There are fresh tears and shuddering sobs as she recounts her sorry tale but Ruth doesn't interrupt her and she's grateful for that. When she finally runs out of words they sit in contemplative silence, holding hands and taking comfort from one another.
"I need a drink," Ruth utters as she reaches up with her free hand to scrub her face.
"Do you have any vodka?"
"Somewhere," she mutters and is momentarily distracted from her grief as she goes in search of it. She is back in less than three minutes, clutching 2 tumblers with a generous splash of vodka in each. "It's not cold I'm afraid," she says and immediately feels absurd.
Jo smiles, weakly, and takes the proffered glass. "That's ok."
They chink their glasses together and silently toast the fallen Spooks. The harsh alcohol burns at the back of Ruth's throat as she takes a gulp of the clear fluid and she uses her vantage point to really look at Jo. For the first time she notices the large bags under her eyes and the slight shake of her hand as her glass is raised to her lips again.
"What happened to you Jo?" she asks, quietly, and the startled blue eyes that meet hers reveals that more horrors are yet to be unearthed.
"I lost my innocence," Jo says, almost casually, but Ruth isn't fooled so easily. She can see the pain in the grimace Jo is now sporting and there is a definite tremor in her hands as she pulls out a fresh pack of cigarettes and peels the cellophane open.
"Picked up a new habit too, I see."
The unlit cigarette twitches between her fingers as she pauses her attempt to light it. "An old one actually," she clarifies, "recently resurrected." She lights up and squints at Ruth through the haze of smoke, "Are you ready?"
No is the thought that immediately rushes to the surface. She's not ready for this at all but the thing that makes her nod her head and whisper 'Yes' is the thought that she's not ready for there to be a world without Harry in it.
Sorry for the delay in posting. There is more to come and hopefully sooner rather than later. Thanks again for the reviews they really are helping me to keep going with it.