"Marong's guys-"
Rock had barely managed a word out before Revy clapped the phone shut and rushed out of Hotel Moscow. Every person in the building was too tall, blocking her view of the door, and there was a difficulty in weaving around, brushing broad shoulders and being on the receiving end of glares. The glass door swung behind closed behind her, nevermind the people exiting and entering. Her mind was set on getting back to the apartment. She already knew, already felt what situation was going down. It was all too familiar, and it wasn't the first time. People parted like the red sea as she ran down the cracked sidewalks, pushing apart those who moved too slow. Rock and Benny wasn't shit for a fight and Dutch could only handle so much on his own.
Sweat poured off of her as the apartment entered her sights. Gunfire echoed behind the apartment, with a man screaming in the background. Her brow crinkled on confusion when she noticed no strange vehicles in the parking lot, and there was no red-hot Plymouth parked just outside. The trip had taken her fifteen minutes and her calves were aching when she skidded to a stop, then hurt worse when she forced herself up the stairwell, grinning.
"God damn , took you long enough." Dutch chastised when Revy threw herself into the apartment. He didn't look at her, only continuing to shoot from the window. The cigar was inside her curled fist, and Revy placed it reverently on the kitchen counter. Dutch was leaning on the wall next to an open window, signature gun in hand. The small table the television was placed on was shoved farther down the wall than usual, creating ample space for Revy to align herself on the other side of the window.
She hopped over the couch, stepping on broken blinds that had been thrown to the ground. Joining Dutch against the far wall, her shoulder bumping into the wallpaper, she chuckled down to the men who shot up at the apartment. Three lay dead by Dutch's hand, while there was a small group sprawled across the beach, with all guns pointing towards the one window.
"Where the fuck's the Plymouth?"
"Rock's still out. No clue when-" he fired an easy shot at a guy who had the genius thought to reload without cover, "-he's coming back. Benny ain't here either. Where the hell were you?"
Oh fuck. Like a guilty teenager, she drew her mouth into a sour expression. "I- that's not fucking important right now!"
He shrugged as he blasted twice out the window. "You're correct on that one."
"They come here by boat?" Revy asked, gritting her teeth as she took out her cutlasses, her sweaty hands curling tight around them. They were already loaded, heavy in her hands. The day was good, after the way Balalaika held her and kissed
"I'd assume so. Motherfuckers better not touch the PT." Anger bit through his teeth. The only thing that could shatter Dutch's resolve was the boat being so much as scratched.
"They won't get the chance!" Revy near leaned out of the window to fire, her fingers pulling the triggers with such speed it was near maddening. The sand kicked up dust from the gunfire. One bullet found purchase between a man's collar bones, the second in another's stomach, and from the window Revy could already smell the latter victim becoming foul.
A bullet whizzed past Dutch's head and hit a cabinet, shattering the cheap plywood. He reloaded quickly with the efficiency of a soldier, and repaid the gangster with a shot to the head.
Revy shot a man who scrambled over to the recently deceased, trying to grab a gun out of their still-warm hands. It had been far too long since she had killed. She couldn't stop smiling. Eventually there were only three men on the beach, who resorted to desperate measures including a grenade that failed to detonate.
A squealing of tires was outside the front door, and the quick extinguishment of engine. Revy whipped around, her hair flying into her face. Spitting out strands, she widened her eyes and watched the door warily, pointing her gun out.
"Revy get your ass back here, it's the Plym-"
Rock opened the door, his eyes wide with his hair disheveled. A slug flew past her ear and cracked the wall right beside his head, to her horror. He ducked out of the way, landing on one knee.
" Whatthefuckareyoudoingheregetdown -" Something stung in Revy's shoulder. She fell to the side for cover, her calf meeting the wood floor; the last thing she saw was the edge of the old television.
The sun was a bleeding egg yolk when she opened her heavy eyelids. Revy wanted to wake to long nails threading through her tangled hair, waking up to a dying smile on painted lips, but every time she was disappointed. She floated close to unconsciousness, barely shaking from it when heavy footsteps neared her.
She knew this feeling well. Her brain eagerly waiting for her to pass out again. Her leg twitched in anticipation to get up, and when she curled her fingers there was a sudden pain.
"She's called you about four times now," Dutch's voice sounded watery above her head. "Best for all of us if you started walking."
" Fuck ." Revy's head hit the sofa cushion. She felt like a piece of rotting animal flesh, hung from a hook in an abandoned butcher's shop. In her mind there was a crescent moon above black water, then it twists into a grey, trash lined street lined with skyscrapers reaching seemingly going up forever, before easing back into the sea.
Fuck, I'm fucking alone, I'm gonna fucking drown, Revy thought, panicking; trying to catch wine-dark seawater between shaking fingers. But, she wasn't. Flashes of the white ceiling flash come into her brain like a broken light didn't feel like a person. She only kept feeling like meat. Meat that people did whatever they wanted to it.
A shot of light pierced her closed eyelids. Revy's head throbbed, with a small pulse in her right hand and shoulder. It was like three heartbeats along her body, and she twisted her head away from the sunlight to sleep again, but it eluded her. The sofa was stiff under her side. Stretching out her legs, she rolled onto her back and blinked open her eyes, staring at the ceiling.
"How long's it been? Shit." she said to no one in particular. Revy knuckled both her dry eyes, a foul taste in her mouth making her groan in disgust. One of her curled hands throbbed, and she pulled it away to get a good look at it. It was bandaged across her palm, and she quickly glanced at where the television was. A newer model replaced it, still old by today's standards, but the sound quality would undoubtedly be better. Revy tried to chuckle but it died in her mouth. Holy fucking shit, it must have been days .
A thin red dot appeared where Revy had stressed the flex of her palm. Moving to touch her shoulder, she already knew she had been shot there, could feel the familiar wound that would leave another scar. Her fingers moved to bump over the scar that Hotel Moscow gave her. The memory made her throat tighten.
"You've been out for three days."
"Oh, Janet. Come to fucking interrogate me while I'm bed bound? I know you fucking know, bitch." The pain made her irritable, and stupid.
"About what?"
"What the fuck do you think? You 'been snooping around like a dog while I've been knocked out?" Revy snapped, reaching to touch her temple. There was dried blood matting her hair. She wasn't ready for this, not just after waking up. Yet Revy wanted to instigate something. It was better if she initiated first, instead of skirting around the topic. There wasn't a point in being careful anymore.
"I'm not looking to take advantage. If I wanted to, I had seventy-two hours to do so."
"You've taken advantage so far. Who's here?"
A voice came from the hallway. "Nobody. Nice cigar, by the way. Heard that only the bigwigs get ones like this. Where'd you buy it? Benny's birthday is coming up and…"
Her heart ceased beating, and a cold sweat ran down into the small of her back. Bloodlust raced through her veins, and her legs shook. Nononononononono, she wanted to scream. Revy, with all her smoldering and anger, forced herself to sit up. "Can this wait until I can go to the bathroom and piss? That's real funny, bitch."
"I wasn't joking. Be real with me, will you?"
Something snapped inside of her, and it dripped down her spine. Adrenaline cut through the pain like a knife through butter. "That shit's not mine," Revy's chest heaved, sweat dripping off of her forehead. "Put that fucking cigar down. It's probably Dutch's, Janet, you fucking cunt. I'll rip your goddamn head off. Benny can keep that clap trap between your legs."
Janet appeared around the corner, a hand on the wall. In her other was a cigar, the light glinting off the faux gold wrapper. "I'm sure you want me to say that I prefer your old threats. Although I'm sure quite a few of those girls you fucked didn't have much of a choice in the matter, funnily enough. I've talked to people who've been in jail, and frankly they say it's not as erotic as some might think."
"Life isn't some porno, bitch." Revy said, her hand going for the gun that wasn't digging into the side of her breast. She felt utterly naked. Her greasy hair was stuck to her head, and she simply felt gross. The throbbing in her head weakened her reply, but didn't stop the venom from leaking out.
"It's not a romance novel, either. We live in some shitty B movie," Janet mused, a flicker of contemplation in her eyes. Then she raised them. "Did you do it for information? Power? Money? I think it's a combination, honestly."
Revy glared back, a vein throbbing in her forehead. "I don't get shit."
"Don't you." Janet glanced at Revy's throat, then adjusted the strap of her halter top. The fabric stretched across her huge chest, barely managing to hold together. "All this evidence, so indiscreet." she tisked. "I can't imagine what the other crime syndicates would think of it. Or Roanapur itself. Rock." at Revy's shocked expression, she continued. " Well , I can imagine, actually."
Revy watched a shocked Janet's honey-brown eyes widen. "What made you think up this shit?" Revy said, wishing for a gun securely in her hand, like an extension of her arm. She imagined pointing it at Janet's head and pulling the trigger, watching it pop like what Dutch did to one of Marong's allies.
"When I was with the Triad guy. I could recognize that Russian accent anywhere. Then you came home with that white shirt, and that hickey on your neck." Janet touched the side of her throat. "And now the cigar."
"Just that, huh?"
"Pretty obvious evidence. Balalaika likes her cigars."
Revy struggled to stand up, and her hard glare brought a wave of fear over Janet, but she remained where she was. "Don't say her fucking name."
"Are you going to shoot me?" Janet asked, her voice quiet. "How do you think Benny would feel? Or my organization? Seems you stepped in shit you can't shake off."
Benny . Revy hadn't thought of him. She remembered how happy they are together, how they'd spend hours in his room, not just having sex, and how he'd react if he found Janet's blood splattered on the wallpaper Dutch precariously put up.
"Who else knows?" Revy's voice was ragged, scratching up her throat.
"Well, if I can't stop myself from spreading my legs, what do you think about my mouth?" Her remark sounded bitter instead of genuine. "But… if you do kill me, you'd be missing out on some key bits."
She gritted her teeth. "Like what?"
'How much do you think people would pay to hear about what I have to say? Or what they'd even give me, hell. I don't need power. I don't want any more people to die, unlike you, but obviously there's going to be some corpses in this equation."
"Fuckin' idiot." Revy knew she was losing ground, and Janet had the answer already. "You only have the cigar, the shirt, and the hallway convo' to go off of? You really wish I was a dyke, huh?"
"I already stated that all of that, Revy." She gestured to the cigar. There was no cruelty or malice in Janet's eyes, no twist of a smirk on her red face, and that served to anger Revy even more.
"So, genius, you'd want Roanapur to fall into fuckin' chaos. How smart of you. What, did you think this up when Benny's dick was down your throat? You like fucking up my life?"
"If you were just with some middle-aged, Olympics-reject, I wouldn't do anything."
"Olympics?" She heard Olympic level once before, even said it to Balalaika, but now she was confused.
"She wanted to participate, long ago. I thought you'd know that." Janet replied, blinking slowly. "I can tell you all sorts of things about her."
"That proves your goddamn point. I don't know anything. I only know, Janet, you fucking cunt, that she likes letting off steam time to time. I'm not shit to her." Revy hissed, breathing hard through her nose. Her shoulder gave a weak complaint as she tightened her muscles, ready to spring.
Janet chuckled pitifully. Like she had been waiting for this moment to deliver the absolute most damaging line. She nervously stared down Revy. "You love her, don't you?"
The headache dancing in her skull made her want to scream.
She launched herself across the room, grabbing Janet by the shoulder, and shoved her against the wall. For a moment it was hard to speak, to breathe, to do anything that required higher thinking. "Where did you get that fucking idea?" Her breath was admittedly bad, and Janet recoiled. She turned her head to the side to get away from Revy's hot-coal glare.
"Revy-"
"You think I, motherfucking Two Hands is gonna catch feelings for some mob boss? Huh? You think she's gonna buy me a mink fucking fur coat and parade me around her palace in Moscow? Get over yourself, Janet. You want power? Go suck Rock's cock. I haven't got shit to tell you. Nah, look at me, bitch." The blood on her hand that bloomed through the bandages smeared across Janet's shoulder as Revy raised it to grab at Janet's jaw, forcing her to look back.
"This," Janet spat at Revy's reddened face in return, the saliva landing on her cheeks. "Is business. You think I'm doing this because I hate you? Didn't you listen? It's business . But if you beat me to death with those bloody hands of yours things'll get a lot harder for you, you lovesick woman-child."
Revy pressed her thumb into Janet's lower cheek. Whispers of the fever were in her mind, and she wanted to let go of herself, to succumb to the intoxication of leaving her body for a bit. An unconsented smile ripped her face open. The gross sensation of Janet's spit didn't put her off in the slightest; for now she was a living weapon. But she wanted to hide like a child in Balalaika's arms. She could feel the sensation of the suit jacket brushing her skin now, and the unyielding muscle the fabric hid. You should kill yourself Janet. Balalaika's hard on people who fuck with her things.
But she was Benny's girl . Was she to him what Revy was to Balalaika? Revy didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to think at all. She wanted blood to shine like rubies down Janet's body.
"If you're so smart, why the fuck are you trying to get Balalaika, of all people? Ronny's got bitches on his cock every second on the day. Chang's softer, we all fucking know that. Why?"
Sweat gleamed off of Janet's forehead. "Because the opportunity presented itself. You're so deluded, thinking I'm doing this because you were mean to me? Threatened to finger me? No. Let me go before you look bad in front of everyone."
"Janet," Revy said callously, "you didn't tell me one last thing, fuckin' idiot. You spied on me."
"How?"
" By fucking tapping the fucking phone !" Revy yelled, shaking Janet and pushing her up the wall. "You can't make that shit up, right? How much are you gonna sell that shit, huh? You don't need me. Your ass was gonna go through with it anyway."
"But I do need you. You like money. Imagine what the higher-ups would offer you." Janet jerked her head up to the ceiling. "If you happen to have your cake and eat it too. Yeah, I tapped the phone, I won't lie. Revy, you can have the burn victim and still run your mouth like you were earlier. You'd get the bigger cut."
Revy paused, listening. It was the same mantra she'd tell herself, of how money lasts longer than people do. Janet kept forgetting one important thing, though. She tightened her grip on Janet until the woman wheezed. "You think she's that fucking dumb?"
"Heh, well you know her better than I do, Revy."
"Janet, you think money will always be a precious fucking thing to me?"
The woman shook her head, forcing a smile. "What about your life? Is that a precious thing to you? You think when she extinguishes Roanapur like a candle, she'll spare you? You'll be another casualty, like everyone else. She would pick her teeth with our splintered bones. Maybe you think you're postponing the inevitable, I get it. Perhaps it's better- even kinder, -to kill it in its crib and keep this city working a little longer?"
'Fucking-" Revy brought Janet's head forward and then slammed it against the wall. "-cunt! She'd kill us no matter what happens. I fucking know that." She sounded deranged, with her teeth bared. Holding Janet by her hair, Revy waited for another reply.
"Yeah, I'm a cunt. The cunt that takes what's given to her." Janet said, trying to take Revy's hands off of her in a dazed state.
Tears blurred Revy's vision at the horror being taken place. She snarled and thunked Janet's head again, and then again, when her vision failed her. In the end, Revy had failed. She had been given one good thing in her whole rotten life, and here it was, ripped out from under her feet. There was a clear end to Balalaika's kisses and working lotion into her hands; how her eyes crinkled when she gave was could be a real smile, and how soft she had felt. Revy was losing all that, and it made her want to die. Kill Janet, first, and then die. She would wander out into the sea, and swim until she grew tired, and there she would die, her face eventually being eaten by fish.
" Are you- Revy, are you kidding me ?"
Revy didn't know whether someone had said that, or she was delusional. She was pulled away from Janet's shaking frame, and despite any attempts to get out of the hold, she was held fast. Revy clawed at the air, her legs kicking out, ignoring the pain in her head and her shoulder and her bleeding hand, because none of it mattered; seeing the way her life was undoubtedly going to end surrounded by all this misery.
Whipping her head around and squaring her feet, Revy paused for a moment when she saw Dutch. Her eye twitched, and suddenly Janet's in clear view to, coughing and taking in a deep, needy breath. Revy's face went lax, as she straightened her spine; mouth parted but utterly empty.
"What the hell is going on here?" Dutch asked to no one in particular.
Neither of the two women spoke for a moment, instead staring at each other, like a silent dare, until one of them broke.
"Let me fucking rip her head off before I give you an answer." Revy said, her anger welling up in her throat.
Dutch sighed. He was taking in the blood smeared on the tanned woman's face. "Janet. I'll ask you, what's got Revy worked up?"
"We were having a discussion and it got physical. She nearly busted my damn head in." Janet touched the back of her head, and felt around. There was no evidence of blood on her fingers, to Revy's mixed feelings of relief. She wanted there to be blood, to give Janet a preview of the future.
"Isn't that right. And she easily could. Now, can I get any actual useful information out of either of you? Hate to step in, but obviously someone needed to."
Revy swallowed, and then leaned towards Dutch, staring him right in the face. "This bitch is out to ruin my fucking life, Dutch. My fuckin' life! Might as well tell her everything! I'm fuckin' dead either way! You'll need a new employee, thanks to this slut."
The look he gave her made Revy shrink back. He was one of the few men on the planet that could have her back down immediately, and feel ashamed doing so. What stung was that he knew what this was about, judging by the disappointment radiating from his sunglasses.
" Revy , go clean yourself up. You smell fucking awful. Let me deal with this." Dutch snapped.
"Dutch it's fucking over-" Revy hissed, hands in her hair, pulling hard enough that she could hear the follicles ripping out from her scalp.
The front door shut abruptly and had all three heads turn. Benny adjusted his Hawaiian shirt and his subdued expression was alive with shock. "Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?"
Maybe this was her rock bottom. Her absolute zero. She wiped the dried spit off her face with her knuckles.
Dutch was impassive. He pointed at the bathroom door. "Revy. I won't ask you a second time. Go shower."
What was the point? It was all over, anyway. The wood creaked under her footsteps. All three pairs of eyes were on her, waiting for her to get out, and that stung worse than anything. Revy opted to escape to her bedroom, flinging open the door and slammed it hard behind her. The hinges creaked in response, and in a flurried sense of fury Revy raised her fist to punch the wall when her headache blasted nuclear-whiteness.
She didn't want to pass out again. Scanning the contents of her trashed room, the sunlight bounced off a glass bottle sequestered behind dirty laundry. Picking it up, the half-filled bottle cool and heavy in her hand, she recognized the label. The whiskey tasted foul, and got progressively worse until she finished it. It dulled the intense pain, but not nearly enough. Underneath the bottle was the trash bin, and she caught the rainbow light of the shattered disc, and the artwork of a woman in a military outfit.
The sun slid down the sky slowly, casting its dying light across the horizon. Revy lay curled up on her bed, watching the ocean waves, smelling the pollution rise up into the air from the shitty cars and the chimneys dotting the city. She needed to redress her wound; her shoulder was holding up well, but her hand was a different story. There was a gash on the side of her head. Briefly, she recalled seeing a stain on the rug in the living room. It was still a good rug, besides. No need to throw it out.
Revy heard the sounds of Roanapur, and sitting up, she caught a view of fishing ships in the distance, in the pinked ocean. The anger had melted away into nothingness, and the alcohol aided in that; the only thing she was missing was cigarettes.
A knock on the door vibrated through her entire room.
"Hey. Can I come in?"
"Fuck you. Whatever."
Rock took that as an invitation and slipped in, the door smoothly clicking behind him. "I keep getting you hurt on my account, huh?"
She didn't bother to look. The wound on her hand glistened. Picking up the roll of ivory bandages on the ground near the headboard, and after blowing on it to get rid of the few flecks of dust, Revy set to dressing her injury. "You really fucked up bad this time. What's Janet saying out there?"
"Dutch asked for privacy, and from his voice… I decided it was wise to obey that." he replied, hesitating as he walked over to her. His dress shoes, while dusty from the road, were unscratched.
"Yeah. He's pissed." Revy sniffed, as she bound her palm. "Thought you'd know about it. You seem to know every fucking bit of info this town's got."
"Not yet." Rock replied easily. He watched her ministrations. "You know…" she hated it when he sounded like that, so intimate and cautious. "For quite a while now you've been acting… well, you haven't been your usual self. Whatever that means… but I didn't want to bring myself to ask. I noticed."
"Listen. Stop what you're saying, Rock, because me and Janet only fought because she joked about gangbangs again. Bitch thinks she can say what she wants and get off scot-free. No fucking way." The more she talked about it, the more furious she got again, and her guns sat on the top of the dresser, mere inches away from the drawer holding Balalaika's things in it.
"Not that I'd join one anyway."
Revy ripped the bandages with her teeth. Tucking in the ragged end, she returned his glance. "Don't have to tell me that. What the fuck did I miss, since I've been passed out?"
"Nothing much, really. Balalaika had a job for us, but since you were unable to perform, she said she'd be able to hold it off for a few days, but no more."
Revy turned her gaze to the side and sucked in her lips. "I'm pretty fucking sure more shit happened. But who'd tell ol' Two Hands, the psychotic bitch."
Rock held out his hand and she pushed the bandages into it, and their fingers touched one another. She felt the heat of his flesh. His skin was different than Balalaika's, warmer. The blonde's touch made her feel different. But he's not her, he's not her you stupid bitch, don't fall for it. You're so fucking desperate like a starving dog, like the one lying in it's guts on the street, like a dumbass who jerks off to military lezzie porn. You could have chosen ol' Rokuro, and followed his walk into darkness, but instead you're fucking a woman who is so far gone that she won't tell you her name.
"They done out there?"
"Yes, they are." He spoke softly. Their eyes met. Rock's eyes were pretty, a black-coffee brown. Light just being hungrily absorbed by them. Even during the deal with Garcia, when he decided to play dirty in his own noble way, his eyes remained brimming with life. She wondered if her eyes looked like his.
Perhaps she was never meant to touch another human being, dramatic as it sounded. If there ever was a ancient, spiteful god, he had truly paid special attention, and with a smile, allowed everything to happen. Revy pulled away from him and stood up. "I fucking reek. I need to shower."
"You love her, don't you?"
She should have killed her for that.