"-wake up, will you? We've gotta go."
Revy snapped her head up from the pillow and blinked her dry eyes at the door. Bracing one hand against the mattress, she held herself up. Her sleep had been hazy and dreamless; warm darkness that seemed to swallow her whole body. It was a dead sleep she could only achieve through drinking as much as she could handle. "What the fuck? Huh ? What do you fucking mean, go where? I'm fuckin' sleeping!"
Dutch was in the open doorway, nursing a cigarette. Stoic as ever, he hadn't even raised his voice to wake Revy up. "Whole crew needs to be there. Her orders, not mine."
Whole crew my ass. Does she want everyone to be in the building before she fucking blows it to high heaven? Revy gritted her teeth and sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. Janet's words were worming themselves through her brain, pulsating with every throb of her headache. "Where are we…" She already knew the horrible answer.
"Hotel Moscow. She called a few days ago, remember? A new job for us, and we need it."
She also blew up my phone, too, Dutch. Upon waking up, the ache in her skull had lessened in intensity. Of course, she would need a copious amount of alcohol to get through the day, but not as much as she thought she needed. She rubbed her eyes and yawned in an attempt to sound less frantic. "I don't wanna fucking go. It's embarrassing."
"Well…" Dutch sighed. "This so-called embarrassment has been your doing, Revy. I gotta say, I am a bit disappointed in you. Balalaika'll be more than disappointed, if word gets out."
"Oh fuck , no."
"It'll only look worse if you don't tag along." He blew the smoke towards the ceiling.
Revy dug her nails into the bare mattress. Guiltily, she refused to look at him. Disappointment . If she had her gun on her when she was with Janet, he'd be more than disappointed . "What about that bitch?"
Dutch stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, before leaning up against it. He crossed his arms. "Janet? Well, she's not coming over to the apartment for the time being. It's all an unfair situation, anyone can see that."
"Anyone?"
They weren't able to talk about it, not with Rock and Benny in the next room. Revy hated keeping secrets more than ever, it was a grim shadow that now watched everything she did. He gave her a look. "You missed a lot of phone calls."
"...Fuckin' shit. Dutch, c'mon, what's the deal with Janet?" Revy asked, in a thin strained voice. Sweat dotted her forehead from the sticky heat that crawled in through the cracked window. She stared at the fracture in the old glass, not remembering it from last night. Raising her fist, she saw dots of purple-red bruising on the knuckles of her injured hand.
"She doesn't necessarily know that I know. Had to be careful with Rock and Benny nearby."
"Well… what did she say?"
Dutch coughed to get her attention, jerking his head in the direction of the living room. "We had a long talk. I think after a while, she got what I was saying. Of course, it's not me she should be worrying about. Be all fun and games if I tossed her body into the sea, but there's more to this than that."
Revy doubted that a threat from Dutch would stifle Janet's plans. She nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, she told me all this shit about letting her live. I just fucking hope I put two through her skull before this is over. Bitch deserves it."
Dutch was silent for a moment, then raised his head. "Patience, Revy, even if that's a foreign word to you. We have to be at Hotel Moscow in an hour." He went to open the door without a second glance, exiting the room.
The door clicked shut, Revy blinked hazily at where he once stood, digesting what he said. Her stomach twisted itself into barbed knots. When she stood up her foot knocked into a beer bottle, and her head swam as she tugged at the neck of the white crew neck shirt. The fabric didn't smell like Balalaika anymore, to Revy's disappointment. Where her hair had meshed into the stained pillow was still damp. The shower she had taken yesterday was quick and lazy and involved piping hot water, like it was going to melt away her anger and panic. After crawling back to her room, Revy had shoved around her furniture until she found two unopened bottles of lukewarm beer, and the rest was a sleep-deprived nightmare.
Not wanting to see anyone yet, Revy dragged herself to the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she walked to the mirror. A bruise had formed around the temple below where she had smashed her head on the television. Shadows dipped in her eye sockets, below her cheekbones, underneath her bottom lip. Despite having slept for the past few days it appeared like Revy hadn't.
Her dirty sleepwear was thrown on the floor as she stepped into the shower. The hot water scalded the wound in her shoulder, and the gash in her scalp, and lastly the slow-to-heal cut on her palm. All three of them were going to leave a nasty scar. Cleaning the dried blood and oil out of her hair was painfully difficult, but Revy desperately wanted to look somewhat human for Balalaika. Perhaps if she washed her face, the Russian would be kinder on her, if they got to talk alone at all.
She dressed her wounds and pulled on her usual outfit, quickly. Revy gritted her teeth when she stood at the opening of the hallway. Benny sat on the couch, a cup of tea in his hands. There was a familiar scent of saffron in the air, and Rock was with Dutch in the kitchen.
Revy went to clench her fists but the bandages on her hand stopped her before she reopened her wound again. Scanning the room, there was no evidence of Janet even having existed, aside from the faded hickeys dotting Benny. She went over to him, feigning normalcy. "Hey. Benny. I didn't… you know."
"I know," Benny said, running a hand through his thick mop of hair. "You can't help it." He didn't sound particularly forgiving, combined with the way he slumped on the couch, bitterly resigned. Why wouldn't he be upset? He had to worry about his girlfriend's life, and what made Revy clench her fist was how he didn't know anything about it.
Revy wanted to say more but she knew that there wasn't anything to say, nothing to lighten the situation. It pissed her off to no end. It really was all her fault. She should have just slammed Janet's head enough that it was a mushy mess and the woman forgot, and killed Marong before Balalaika did. Revy refused to make the same mistake twice. She spent the half hour she had left struggling down a cup of tea to ease her pains, listening to Rock go on about the state of Roanapur, how tensions were running high, but they always were high. He was turning paranoid, Revy noted as she blew a plume of smoke from her cigarette.
Yesterday, Rock had looked at her in that way again, even when she was covered in wounds and her hair stuck to her neck. He was used to that messy sight of her, and that relaxed Revy while at the same time scaring her. She twisted her mouth at the prospect of kissing him again. A wise man would say it would avert suspicion; she traced her own collarbone to give a sensation of being touched by the Russian. Rock could touch you in front of everybody, she reflected. She returned to lacing her boots. But you had to be with Sis, and you had to fucking wish for her to touch you for fucking months and you curled up in your shitty bed like a goddamned child thinking about her like an idiot and you had to press the issue by visiting her because you just had to see her.
Putting the gun harness on was awkward with the tunnel in her shoulder; the frayed muscle spasming in her rough actions. It was like she had ten thumbs for fingers and they were all broken. She finished adjusting the straps of her holster and walked out first, the two men both following her.
The palm trees hung in the heat, as electric as they were at the Church, when Revy had first started thinking about Balalaika, about Japan. It was morning was all she could tell, not bothering to ask the time. The sun pointed its finger at Roanapur through grey clouds. A rumble of thunder sounded off in the distance, the tree leaves rustling in response. The car ride was comfortably quiet despite the disco music Dutch insisted on playing. Rock tapped his fingers on the armrest to the tinny beat, while Revy was on her third cigarette, grey ash dotting her thighs.
On the telephone poles in Roanapur, there were pictures of people nailed to them, scrawled underneath were phone numbers and have you seen this woman/man/child? It was one of the many things in the city that reminded Revy of home. No matter how violent Roanapur got, how many bodies piled in dumpsters, or the sewers being clogged with human fat, the citizens still put up missing posters of their family members. At a stoplight, a woman was putting up a picture of a child. Revy already knew six gangs in the city that specialized in selling children.
The city was more decrepit every day, the foundations of old buildings sinking into the soft land. As they pulled into Hotel Moscow's parking lot, the headquarters looked older than it did the other times Revy had looked at it. Or maybe she was exhausted despite sleeping for several days.
Inside of the building was as cold as it always was. As soon as Dutch stepped in, a majority of the Russian men took notice. Their boots tapped across the linoleum flooring that curled up where it met the walls. The segment of waiting for Dutch to finish speaking with Boris was dreamlike, she couldn't shake herself out of it. Her eyes kept dragging themselves to the stairway. Picking at her limp ponytail, Revy hid behind a face of indifference. Did Boris already know what she had done? She couldn't tell.
"The Kapitan is ready to see you." Boris told Dutch, and Revy's fingers twitched.
She felt she'd be better off still killing those men who invaded the apartment. The stairs creaked underneath her slight weight, and she found herself staring at her gloveless hands. At this point, she was just going to find new ones. It didn't matter. She could smell Balalaika's perfume from the doorway to her office, the floral aroma making her freeze. Rock nearly bumped into her, and she felt his breath on her ear when he said something, but the words melted into mush. She got hit with the memory of them drunkenly kissing again, his warm lips on hers, and Revy walked forward, back bent with her hands shoved in her pockets.
As much as she wanted to seem like she couldn't care less, Revy's eyes went soft when she saw the blonde. Balalaika was seated at her desk, a cigar hanging from her lips and a document in her hand. A lamp was lit on her desk, as the sun was fading fast and it wasn't even the afternoon, and the scarred portion of her face was touched by the yellowed light.
"Dutch." Balalaika greeted, pushing aside the documents that splayed across the massive slab of polished wood. She dug through the drawer to her right and rolled out a map of the coast of Roanapur.
After exchanging the usual pleasantries, Balalaika set her sights on the group. "I hear your apartment was attacked by Marong's remaining men.
Dutch hummed in agreement. "Not very often we get visited by someone beyond the grave."
Balalaika's eyes flicked to Revy for heartbeat. Her pale face was impassive and professional, with a commanding posture to support it. "And were they the reason that your company wasn't available for a few days?" She flattened the worn paper of the map underneath her wide hands.
He nodded, giving a polite half-smile. "Absolutely. Managed to tear the living room up a bit, even if they reloaded without cover."
"Hm. This is an unwanted distraction, but a welcome one for you. There have been sightings of an associate of Marong on the docks south of closed factory on Plādāw street." Balalaika tapped a shred of land kissing a surrounding blue pool.
"The only boats that frequent there are used for fishing, interesting." Dutch touched his jaw in thought.
Revy certainly didn't find it as interesting as he did. Dutch and Balalaika launched into the discussion, with brief interjections by Rock. This was where it got boring, and she found herself still struggling to hide the nervousness in her shaking hands. Revy kept her expression neutral, and focused on circling the wound on her palm with a finger to keep herself focused. It was the same as it was before, and she had to practice not giving a shit. Surprisingly, despite the fluttering of her heart, her face remained pale. She was shaken out of her daydreaming by the cold tone of the Russian's voice.
"I have frustrating news, Marong had partners." Balalaika was angry, like she was constantly stepping on a cockroach that wouldn't die. Her shoulders hunched forward and her cleavage presented itself as she bent over the table, tracing a long nail along a route as she explained to Dutch. Then Balalaika slowly moved her gaze to Revy.
Her eyes were blank and sharp at the same time, and Revy felt swallowed by the horrible blueness of them. She stared at the ground then, hiding her neck to protect it. And Revy broke. Balalaika didn't move her subtle gaze until she looked back up, and she had to return a look with glossy eyes and parted lips, her chest heaving.
I didn't learn fuck-shit at all.
There wasn't lust in the Russian's eyes, nor affection. There was ice and anger.
When the plans were set in stone and Balalaika had smoked half a cigar, Dutch took a few documents into his hand. Shuffling them around, he chuckled and gave a reply that made her give a humored sigh in return. Revy wanted to feel sorry for herself but she was so panicked she couldn't begin the self-pitying thought process.
Rock went to open the door when Balalaika raised a hand. "I'll need to speak with Rock. And after him, Revy."
The two of them both blanched. Rock was rising in power every single day and still was wary of Balalaika, Revy noted. If he had information on her, would he still be as afraid? Eventually he wouldn't be scared of anything. He'd be far gone like he was with Garcia, even if his eyes were circles of onyx swallowing light.
Dutch paused, then turned around to face Balalaika. Tucking the folded papers into a pocket on his vest, he gave the act of debating her request, when really he may have had no power in this at all. He remained relaxed, nodding after a brief second. "Sure."
Revy watched his subdued reaction, her heart in her throat. Her eyes then darted to Balalaika's icy, tired expression. The blonde's eyelids drooped slightly, the crows feet deepened from the discoloration underneath her eyes. Revy stared out the window at the darkening clouds instead, to calm her frayed nerves, because there wasn't any way she could focus. She wanted to touch her, the longing so sudden that she twitched.
"Alright." Dutch shrugged. "How long will this take?"
"No need to worry about your other plans, Dutch. But it may take a little longer than anticipated."
He nodded, the muted sunlight bouncing off his sunglasses. "Maybe I'll head out and come back later. What's the worst that can happen?"
Thirty minutes later, when Rock walked out pale-faced and wringing his wrists, Revy knew she was in for it. His once fine-pressed dress shirt that wrinkled in the humidity, and his face was tight. She had spent the time out in the hallway, bouncing her foot on the ground and staring up at the ceiling, willing any fight or flight response away.
Seeing his expression, Revy sprang forward. "Holy shit, how did it go?"
"Ms Balalaika is ... not in the best mood." He cautioned, rubbing his jaw. His eyes had that faraway look they had when he had set her off in Japan.
"What the fuck did you do this time, Rock?"
Rock ran a hand through his dark hair and shrugged. "Nothing I can remember, but you would think I did. She knows about me working alongside Chang. That was her main worry, I suppose."
"Heh, thanks for cooling her down before she meets with my sorry ass." Revy tried to sound convincing. Panic kept brimming to her tongue, and at any moment her voice would crack and Rock would give her a tender look, one that she wanted only from Balalaika.
"You know what you did?" He tugged at his tie in thought.
"No fucking clue. Maybe because I didn't bring the scalps from those fuckers we killed."
Rock looked like he wanted to apologise again, luckily choosing to keep it internal. "I'll try and track down Dutch."
"Good luck," Revy said. "Stay outta trouble, will ya?" She kept watch until he started down the stairs, and the sound of the wood creaking gave her the strength to curl her hand around the door knob. The door didn't make a sound as it opened, and she entered the spacious office.
Balalaika leaned on her desk, both hands on either side of her wide hips. Her silence was a hundred times more threatening than any verbal malevolence. Pale as mist, her eyes concealed more than she told. Revy still liked being under their gaze, the coldness was more grounding than the thousand emotions that flickered in Rock's eyes.
Revy shut the door behind her with a hard push and walked closer. "What's up?" She asked casually with an upturn of her lips. The wound in her palm flexed when she dug her nails into the raw fresh to keep herself in line.
"Does trust mean nothing to you?" Balalaika started, moving away from the desk. Her entire demeanor screamed Kapitan , and the smile on Revy's face faded. Already she wanted to launch into it. Debates with her was a game that Revy barely learned the rules to. And we both have our fucking guns, don't forget. Why did she think this way, when they had spent a night together? No matter what happened she would always look back on that time they managed to achieve that.
"The fuck do you mean? Of course trust means something to me, are you kidding?" Revy said. Goosebumps raised along her arms and legs. The air conditioning was colder than what she recalled when she had been in the room with Dutch and Rock.
"Yes. Trust. You told me how it was so important in Japan." Balalaika didn't look at her, instead choosing the windows, watching the grey clouds twist around each other. A flash of lightning choked the sky. "Who was it? Was it the stranger who nearly walked in on us that night at Chang's little get-together? The one who you promised to tell me her name? I have such little information, Rebecca, and you seem to not want to tell me anything."
"I-It's not fucking like that Sis, calm down, okay? Shit." Revy stammered.
"Then what is it like? Surprise me."
"It's…." the anger in Balalaika's eyes made Revy falter. "Sis, don't look at me like that. It was… it was just-"
"Want to be difficult? Fine. I'll show you an interesting item I received yesterday. Maybe this will bring you to tell the damn truth." Balalaika walked to her desk drawer, and smoothly took out a simple cardboard box. The sound of heels and Revy's breathing filled the room. Confused, Revy followed her, gnawing on her lip. The cardboard was beaten up and was lined with cut-open tape that virtually held it together. Setting the box down, the Russian slid it over to Revy and waited. "Open it and read what's inside."
"Fuck… is it a head or something?" Revy asked cautiously, furrowing her brows. Her heart pulsed in between her ears and her stomach felt oily.
Balalaika watched her, saying nothing. The lack of words made Revy feel sick, as she clumsily opened the box. Inside was a wobbly cigar, and taking it into her hand, she saw the band of gold wrapped around the middle of the cigar and she stopped breathing. "This… No fucking way."
It had been in Janet's possession the entire time she had been passed out on the couch and in her bed. The slut had never given it back- it was a false fucking offer and I was too pissed to realize. Underneath it was a scrap of paper. Revy set down the cigar on a pile of papers, and then reached to read. She squinted at the small font and mouthed the words to herself before reading aloud.
"'This here is her newest toy. She cried when I took it away.'" Revy crumpled the piece of paper in her fist and tossed it on the carpet, seeing red. A sting of cold metal pressed on her armpits. Instantly she remembered her guns, and all the power that came with them. All she needed was one bullet. "Is this bad poetry? What the fuck?"
Balalaika threatened a smile. "That came to me a day ago. I tried calling you numerous times but… you didn't answer. You could have been dead for all I know." The blonde turned her head for a moment, and lightly brushed aside a few locks of hair from her face.
"I don't…. I got shot and the cigar was left in the living room, somewhere, I have no fucking clue. I hit my head on the television, cut my fucking hand, and knocked myself out. I have no clue." Six voicemails had popped up on the cracked phone screen. Revy had held it tight in a her sweaty hand but hesitated. Her skull was sloshing with what felt like a melted brain, and the cell and dropped to the floor before she could decide on calling back. Balalaika was always met with nothing, Revy realized shamefully. I never answer her damn calls.
"What about when you woke up? Don't lie to me. 'She cried when I took it away?'" Balalaika demanded, twitching her hand like she wanted to curl it into a fist.
Revy's face flushed and she was covered in a cold sweat. "Yeah. Well, Benny's girlfriend fucking told me to my fucking face that she knew what was up and I have no clue how I only asked like one question and-"
"What's her name?"
Revy swallowed and her eyes swam with tears. This was were everything would go upside down, and she could only watch with the knowledge that this whole mess started because of her. "Janet. Some fuckers call her Greenback Jane too."
Balalaika grabbed Revy by the shoulders and held her still as she tried to escape her grasp. It sent a ricochet of pain through her injured shoulder blade, and Revy attempted to twist away. The blonde forced her to share a gaze. "You know what you have done? Of all the people in Roanapur, you let yourself be found out by some second-rate information dealer?"
"Fuck, Sis, fuck! I didn't let myself be fucking found out. Every single fucking day she is there- Listen to me, Sis, fucking listen. I walked home wearing your fucking shirt with your fucking hickey on my neck- Sis, you-" Revy tripped over her words, trying to get away from Balalaika. It was too real and the blonde was too close and she felt like she was falling apart and losing everything all at once. Her heart was cringing as if it were dying.
"Speak clearly."
"Sis- I just, I want to know you as a fucking person." Revy said frantically. Her neck was so tight she could scarcely move her head.
Balalaika tilted her head. There was a flicker of sadness, of almost guilt, in the jerk of her lips. " You do."
She had told her about Afghanistan, how her mother was never there, but still Revy squinted her eyes to repress tears that curled on the edges of her eyelids. Despite the way she was being grabbed, she took a brief moment to notice the blonde's perfume. "No. That's why I've been acting like a motherfucking idiot. That's why. Sis, why won't you let me be closer to you you're not fucking Balalaika all the time when we fucked-"
"Obviously it's not my birth name, but it is my name regardless. Your obsession is going to ruin both of us, did you even think of that? No, that's what you do. Not think of future actions." Balalaika said, watching Revy flinch at the remark.
"You liked that part of me when I came to organize shitty porn for you. Or when I went to this fucking office wearing a skirt. Or hell, when I fingered you in that goddamn bathroom. Sis, you knew what you were getting into." Her eyelashes felt wet as she blinked rapidly. Revy shoved at Balalaika, her words scratching up her throat like stomach acid. Internally she wanted the Russian to hurt her. In a sick game of show and tell, Revy would show it to Janet and display how much Balalaika gave a shit about her.
Balalaika was taken aback, her eyes wide. Breathing shakily, she lessened the iron hold she had on Revy, guiltily stepping back."It was never like that. Revy , you know as much as you need to. Just have me for the way I am now. When will you finally get that through your thick skull?"
"You make me feel like shit." Revy jabbed a finger into the blonde's heaving chest. "I know I fucking messed up and I need you to help me." Her voice cracked, and Revy only knew when she was crying when a tear dropped down onto her chest. She turned red when Balalaika's expression softened at the display.
"Then let me help. Before everything becomes even more of a problem. Tell me what's going on, Rebecca." The blonde's accent thickened in desperation.
"You already think I'm an idiot." Revy replied, wiping her tears roughly. "And… you're right. I broke our trust."
"You did. I told you time and time again and it's like you never listen. They'd do worse than kill you, Janet Bhai's little group, you do realize that." Balalaika coldly replied. "There are so many ways to hurt someone, and that bitch can access so many things. People pay good money for information about Hotel Moscow. About me." Her tone was strained, and Balalaika took a step away, her head held high, but there was a wretchedness in her expression.
Revy's eyes widened and her mouth went slack. No fucking way you fucking bitch . There was a flashback of limping to a filthy apartment. "No."
"It would be for the best. For a little while. Until the threat has been dealt with." The Russian spoke so softly that Revy had to quiet her breath her head her properly.
"No, no. I can't fucking do this again-"
"Do you see the consequences of your actions now? A mere few days ago you said you'd wait. " Balalaika hissed tightly, without malice.
"Oh my fucking god." Revy cupped her own face in her hands and wheezed. The darkness was a welcome comfort, and she leaned into the touch even if it was from herself. A sob leaked out of her before she could stop it. "Holy fucking shit." She looked up and reached out to Balalaika, slowly stepping towards her. Both of her boots were planted on the stained carpet and yet she was falling. "No, Sis, please, don't do this to me."
Balalaika remained where she was, her eyes narrowed as she looked back at the sky. For a second Revy saw how she looked when she was young. "I think of you being cut piece by piece and calling out to me, and you keep calling out my name until you die. Rebecca, you never picked up your phone. "
"I was fucking out of it." Revy said in a high tone, trying to get closer to the blonde, but Balalaika held an arm out to refuse her. "You're really gonna fucking drop me like that? I should have known I wasn't really shit to you. Some fuckers say you're incapable of it."
"Perhaps I am." The Russian sounded exhausted. "Doesn't matter now. I have business to attend to, and if you're willing, we can pick this up another time."
Revy wheezed and grabbed Balalaika's hand. Curling it into a fist, Revy raised the blonde's knuckles towards her mouth and kissed them, running her lips along the bony ridges. The skin was warm to the touch, wonderfully human. Between her lips her tongue peeked out and traced lightly. Her vision blurred; her legs felt weak. She knew what was coming; she was used to rejection her whole life and this shouldn't have been any different, but it was. Then the hand was pulled away from her, and Revy hid a sob. A lovesick woman-child .
"Rebecca-"
"I fucking hate this shit. You fucking know how I can't fucking handle shit like this. Assholes threw me away my whole fucking life and you knew it. And here you fucking are, thinking that you can get out of this. I said you're mine and I fucking mean it and you never once fucking said that I was yours. And now I know why." She ranted. Balalaika listened carefully, lifting a hand to brush her suit jacket. Revy wanted to keep going on until she was speaking in tongues, circling around the same subject again and again until her tongue was a pile of meat and gristle.
"I never said I don't care about you."
Revy weakly chuckled, thinking of the folder in her dresser with the underwear and the shirt that no longer smelled like her. "Sis, you never said you did care about me, I had to fucking read into everything you did."
"Well, this is me saying that I do, by telling you to keep your head down and staying away from me for a while."
"If I can't fucking do that, would you kill me?" Revy gestured towards the scar on her arm. "And I'm glad now you fucking tell me you give a fucking shit. Now when it's convenient."
Balalaika looked in her eyes. Whatever she saw there gave her a brief pause. "A break is all I ask. To fix everything. And then I'll be yours and you'll be mine again." She replied, her stone mask of a face breaking when she sighed.
"Really?" Tears dripped off of Revy's chin. "How am I supposed to believe that? You're fucking leaving me. Everyone always leaves, and that's it. Trying to keep me calm? Fuck you. You're leaving me ."
Balalaika opted for a gentler approach, as if that would solve anything. She gestured with her hands, as if she was debating on taking Revy into her arms. The red jacket flexed around her wide shoulders and chest. " Kotyenok- "
"Don't call me that," Revy said pathetically. "You're just rubbing salt in the fucking wound." She decided to take a few steps away, trying to focus on slowing down her breathing. All she could smell was cigar smoke and floral perfume and an edge of gun oil.
"Rebecca, listen to me. I'm not leaving you, don't act like a child. Only for a period of time."
"How fucking long?"
"You need specifics?" Balalaika asked, crossing her arms underneath her chest. Her blonde hair fell down to the base of her spine, swaying as she adjusted her posture. She was so beyond exhausted that her reaction time was slowed by a second.
Revy tugged at her own ponytail and nodded weakly. "Yeah."
"Three weeks or less."
"Three fucking weeks," Revy repeated. "Or less. Don't get my hopes up."
A streak of yellow lightning rippled across the sky. Balalaika shook her head, resigned. "I'm not getting your hopes up. You asked for help and you're getting it. And throughout that time frame you will see how I care for you."
"Sure." Revy calmed for a heartbeat, then her face crumpled again as if she had been slapped. She took another step towards the door.
"Your tears-"
"Who gives a shit." Revy stated, staring at the door. She slumped forward in her grief, her arms jamming into the cutlasses. That was a lie. Of course people gave a shit; they'd laugh at her tears and call her weak, or a whore or a fucking bitch .
Balalaika came behind her, and lightly touched Revy's shoulder. The contact made Revy tremble and she sank her teeth into her lip to hide another pitiful sound. She stayed where she was, as the blonde lightly palmed her uninjured shoulder. When she refused to face her, Balalaika went around to her side, with a tissue in her hand. She anticipated Revy to put up a bit of a fight, but there was nothing left inside Revy except a well of misery, and Balalaika leaned in closer to blot the saltwater staining Revy's face.
The blonde followed her when Revy tried to pull away, continuing her gentle touch. Her eyes felt oversensitive, and Revy would blink when the tissue barely grazed the red raw skin. The attention to her was comforting, and she collected herself despite the last few tears leaking out. Slowly, she decided to meet Balalaika's gaze, and she saw depression reflected back at her. They were both miserable, in this situation, in this sad example of life.
Revy tugged the light hair that fluttered against her chest. Balalaika's locks were thick and wavy and perpetually verging on tangled. It had acted as a blanket around her the night they slept together, when Balalaika had been all flushed and pink. Revy doubted they'd ever have that again.
If she was near her too long she'd cry again. Three weeks was livable; Balalaika using it as an excuse was not. She had no clue what to believe. Everyone leaves , she had gasped when the Russian was inside her. There was a satisfaction in that, knowing that after all she was still right. When Balalaika moved into closer as if to embrace her, Revy set the palm of her injured hand on the blonde's chest. Balalaika stilled immediately, where she had always felt so soft had turned steel. For once, the overwhelming panic gave way to a warped clarity, and she collected herself. However, she couldn't bring herself to look into the blonde's eyes, and she felt her resolve breaking just being so close to her. If she held you one more fucking time how bad would it- Shaking her head, Revy took a step away and left, fighting not to give a second glance. See there, Sis? Revy thought bitterly. See how I eventually learn my fucking lessons?