All she could hear was a high-pitched whine. The aftereffect of kicking a Grimm into an explosion. Ruby, back on the ground, looked up at the crashing plane.

Roman Torchwick died up there.

She pressed a hand against her head, trying to reorient herself as she stumbled to her feet. Every movement caused a grimace, and still, she had to keep fighting.

Once fully stood, Ruby, surveyed around.

So much death, she saw a shock of white, and it was breathing. At first, all she saw was him on the ground, which was enough to make her panic. Ruby dropped to her knees beside Torchwick. Roman, covered in blood. Her breath hiccuped. There was so much blood, and his chest rising and falling in short hitches. His eyes were open but lidded. Ruby hadn't seen it before but knew a dying light when she saw one.

Not knowing why she'd do this, mumbling in her mind that she could be saving people with a chance. Still, she couldn't leave him like this, and she began to tear at his clothes to staunch the bleeding.

"Red?"

Ruby inhaled sharply. She responded reassuringly, "I'm here."

"Good." Roman smiled. "I think this might be it."

"Absolutely not." Ruby tied a tourniquet around his thigh. The Grimm filled sky screamed above her, and she worried over her friends. Yet she was here.

"'Red…" His chuckle turned into a soft cry of pain. Then, after a controlled breath that seemed just as frustrating, Roman asked, "How many detentions if I do, Miss school girl?"

The display of humor broke her resolve, and tears rolled down Ruby's face. But, of course, Roman would take the time to sass her even while on his deathbed. Ruby thought back on all the jokes and crimes she was aware of. And if Roman lived, he'd commit a hundred more.

Unthinkingly, she ran her hand through his hair, unbothered by the blood staining her skin and distressed simply by how much of it there was. Though the bleeding had stopped, he'd still lost quite a bit. Judging by the sickly pale look and deep grimace, there was far more wrong than Ruby was capable of fixing.

"Before I go," Roman rasped. Ignoring her pained noise, he continued, "I have to tell you something." He stopped and amended the words. "I need to tell you something."

Ruby sucked in a breath. "Then say it."

Until that moment, Roman hadn't been trying too hard to focus, and his eyelids had fluttered a worrying amount. Now, he looked right at her with solemn eyes, and the corners of his mouth lifted gently. The pause lingered long enough that Ruby was frightened, but it seemed Roman had only needed time to work up the courage. When he finally did, Roman told her in deliberate syllables, "I love you, Ruby Rose."

Ruby floundered at the confession. Had he gone mad from the blood loss? No, there was an urgency in Roman's eyes, and worse, an expectancy of some form of response.

She waged war with herself. She'd been waging war with him. And somehow, Roman, found a way to fall in love. Roman, who had shot her more time than she could count, who was admittedly handsome and had turned her cheeks pink once or twice. Roman who grinned because she met him bullet for bullet.

Roman, who was dying.

Ruby couldn't bring herself to disappoint him. She whispered back, "I love you too, Roman." And through her tears, she tried her very best to mirror his grin.

"That's good," he said. Roman raised a hand to rest on her leg. "A bit embarrassing if you didn't?"

Ruby huffed a laugh. She wanted to tell him it wasn't embarrassing at all. It was just sad.

All of it was sad.

He closed his eyes, or did they fall shut? Ruby couldn't say since it happened in the blink of her own.

"Roman!" She pressed two fingers under his jaw, but they shook too hard to accurately check his pulse. Taking a breath and seeing he didn't.

He couldn't take another breath.

Red picked up Crescent Rose and turned back to the fight.