Chapter 10

John Steinback once said, "It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone." He was right. When someone you love dies, you indeed feel as though a light has been extinguished from deep inside your heart. Each moment that you are reminded of that loss, some stray ember sears into your chest. Reminding you that this door has closed forever. That he or she is gone, and will never return.

Ruby was reminded of Master's death everywhere she went. In everything she did. When she polished the silver, she would recall Master coming up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, and squeezing them with approval when he'd see her handiwork. When she mended the clothes, she realized with a sting that Master would never wear what she was fixing again. It would never absorb his body heat, nor shield his body from the elements. As duty compelled her to aid Grace in preparing the funeral, she had to hear her beloved Master being called 'the body'. It made her want to tear her hair out. When she waited on Grace, Charles, and Sasha, Ruby would constantly stare at the empty chair at the head of the table. She would then look to Oswald for comfort, only to see that he wasn't there. She'd always set up a tray for him, only to find it the next morning. Untouched.

On the sixth night, Ruby had had enough. Instead of simply leaving the tray to be ignored outside the door, she knocked before letting herself in.

"Please go away." A muffled voice called.

Ruby stopped. Stared. To put it simply, the room was a mess. It had a nasty, closed-in smell, like unwashed hair. Clearly, the windows hadn't been opened in days. The curtains were drawn and clothes littered the floor. The lights had been dimmed drastically, offering shapes to vision but nothing more. There, just outlined atop the bed, was Oswald. Lying face-down in the blankets, his hair resembling a porcupine's.

Oh, God. Ruby closed the space between her and the bed. "Oswald?" Gently, she placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. Shook a little. Oswald shuddered. Twisted up. "Father?" He looked up at her, blind in both ways. Ruby's eyes teared up. "No." She hugged herself. "I'm not. And I'm sorry." Oswald's face, which had looked hopeful for a split second, crumpled like wet newspaper. He lay back down. As Ruby watched, he curled up in a fetal position. "Ohhhhhhhh..." He moaned painfully. Ruby sat down next to him. She reached out and rested a hand on his head. Oswald stilled. Then, he leaned into her touch. Ruby began to stroke his inky hair, letting her fingers trace his face every now and then. She could already feel that he'd grown thinner in this week alone. It made her want to cry almost as much as Master's death.

She was about to speak when Oswald did it for her. His voice was croaked and raspy. "I dream of it every night. Of him in my arms, dying just like Mother did." He sniffled. "He was right there. I was holding him. And then, he was...no..." He broke down in fresh sobs. Ruby's hands moved to his sides. Being as careful as possible, she transferred his head to her lap. She kept stroking his hair. "There's nothing you could have done." She said sadly, but truthfully.

"I could've done anything!" Oswald wailed. "I would've given my life for his!"

Ruby grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in a sitting position. His pale, tear-streaked face gaped at hers. "Oswald," Ruby said calmly but firmly, "you must never think like that. Master loved you dearly. He never would have wanted to hear you say something like this." She reached out and wiped his tears away. Oswald's icy-blue eyes stared into hers, shining with emotion. Ruby took a deep breath and spoke. "I miss him, too."

Oswald blinked. "Really?"

"Of course." Ruby nodded. "He took me in, all those years ago, when no one wanted me. I miss him every day, and I think about him all the time." It hurt so much to be speaking like this, but it felt good, too. She wiped her own eyes. "But...he's never coming back."

Oswald's face crumpled again. He lurched forward and wrapped his arms around her. Ruby responded naturally, resting a hand on the back of his head. Oswald broke into fresh tears. Ruby never wavered her grip. She let him cry, shedding silent tears of her own. Minutes morphed into an hour. Then, one and a half. Finally, Oswald sniffled. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "Sorry."

Ruby tried to smile. "What're you talking about?" She joked. "You saved me from washing the dishes." Oswald sighed shakily and held her closer. Ruby rubbed his back before pulling back. "Now," she pushed some bangs out of his eyes, "will you please eat something?"

Oswald slowly nodded. "Alright. But...nothing too rich, please."

Ruby gave a weak smile. "How about peanut butter?"

Oswald returned the simper. "Smooth?"

"Smooth."

Twenty minutes later, Ruby brushed the cracker crumbs from the bedspread. Then, she lit some incense and scattered the sticks across the room. As Oswald watched from an armchair, Ruby changed the sheets. Finishing the brief clean-up with a glass of cold water, she turned back to him. "It's late." She said softly. "And tomorrow is...the funeral." That last word dragged her heart down like a stone. "You should sleep." She bowed. "Goodnight, Oswald." Just as she was about to leave, however, Oswald's cool hand closed around hers. Ruby turned, wide-eyed with surprise. Oswald was staring at her with the kind of innocent fear one would expect to find on a child. His eyes were huge. His lower lip was trembling. "Please," he swallowed, "I...I don't want to have another nightmare tonight."

Ruby blinked.

"Would you..." Oswald looked down, embarressed. "...sleep here with me tonight?"

Ruby gasped. Just for a second, she wasn't in this room anymore. In this time anymore. She was back in that alley, nearly a decade ago, pushed up against a brick wall. She could still feel her body, half-frozen from the rain. She felt that thug's brutish hands tearing at her clothes while holding a switchblade against her throat. Then, searing agony and shame.

"I...please don't misunderstand!" Oswald said, seeing the look on her face. "I don't want to...do anything. I just..." He let go of her hand. Hugged himself. "I need company, lest I go mad."

Ruby pursed her lips. Indeed, ever since that night his 'family' had had less to do with him than usual. They never directly looked at him nor spoke to him. They hadn't even mentioned his absence at dinner...at all. Oswald's grief meant nothing to them.

Pressing her lips together, Ruby nodded despte her heart's pounding. "Alright."

Oswald looked as relieved as a man lost in the desert being offered a glass of water. "Wonderful!" He straightened, wiping some stray tears away.

"On one condition."

Oswald stopped.

Ruby pointed. "You eat everything on that tray."

Oswald sighed, but nodded. "Very well."

Half an hour, Ruby stood before her bed. Perfectly made. It would stay that way in the morning, too. The thought felt strange, like cancelling a dinner date at the last moment. Lying on the covers was everything she would need: her pajamas, a robe, slippers, and an alarm clock to wake her up at the crack of dawn. Usually, she didn't need it. Being in the attic, facing east, hers was always the first room to see daybreak. But tonight was a whole different story.

Ruby's hands trembled uncontrollably as she tugged her uniform off. She tried not to see her reflection as she changed. There were no physical scars to remind her of that night. There had been, once, on both her inner thighs. But a ton of expensive cream had erased those ugly marks. Even so, tonight Ruby felt that they were still there. Or, worse, may be reborn.

Ruby shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Oswald was as sweet as a lamb. He would never do something like that. Hell, he'd said it himself: "I never raped anyone." So, if he hadn't done it when he'd been the Hyde to his current Jekyll, why would he now?

Besides...she trusted him. Maybe not enough to tell him her secret yet. But enough to show him her secret place, lend him her jewelry, and allow him to tag along during her chores. That was more trust than she'd given anyone outside of the Master. Since...well, since her disgusted parents had left their deformed daughter at Arkham.

Ruby's hand crept beneath her pillow. Extracted the photograph. Held it up against the moonlight. Even now, it disgusted her. It was a full body shot her from nine years ago, twelve months before she would meet the Master. In the picture she was almost naked, save for white cotton underwear. And it was a horrific sight to behold. Her skin was discolored and bloated, like a fungus, with hideous boils running along her face and neck. Many of these boils leaked blood and pus. The veins in her eyes had burst, staining her scleras dark red.

Funny. Back then, she had only looked like a monster. Now, many would call her an actual monster.

Swallowing hard, Ruby folded the photo and tucked it in her pajama's pocket. Grabbing a blanket and the alarm clock, she hurried out.

Oswald had already extinguished the candles when Ruby arrived. It wasn't the only welcomed change. For one thing, the open windows gave the room a crisp coolness. All of the clothes had been put away. The tray was empty, with the fork and knife placed strategically next to each other on the plate's center. Ruby took all this in with a small smile. She turned to the bed. Moonlight spilled from the parted curtains, falling upon Oswald's dormant face. His skin was like fresh milk, and his hair was as black as night. Even as he slept, he looked beautiful. For the first time, Ruby noticed the freckles crowding around his nose. That somehow made him cuter.

Cute or not, though, this was the moment.

Ruby took a deep, silent breath before walking towards the bed. Rather than getting under the covers like Oswald, she lay atop the bedspread. Doing otherwise would have been both unethical...and traumatizing. Ruby lay on the side, stiff as plywood, waiting for something to happen.

It did. Oswald seemed to immediately sense her presence. Moaning softly, he twisted around under the covers. Ruby froze. Scarcely breathed. Still sleeping, Oswald lay on the other side and lay a hand on Ruby's abdomen. Shivers spread across Ruby's body. Electrical. She remained immobile. Oswald, on the other hand, scooted closer to her and hugged her middle, burying his face between her shoulder blades. Ruby was hyperventilating now, verging on panic. Please, she kept thinking, please, don't go further, please, please ple-

"Thank you." Oswald sighed near her ear. Ruby relaxed a bit. Leaned her head against the pillow and tried to close her eyes. As she did, she realized that Oswald was humming. And crying. Dampness sank into her nightgown, reaching the skin. Ruby reached down and seized Oswald's hands. Squeezed them. Oswald's crying lessened, but the humming did not. Ruby fell asleep to the sound of it, and that night dreamed of her dear, dead Master.

The next morning dawn clear as a bell. Burnt orange rays cut through the drapes, painting the ceiling. Sleepy birdsong gently ascended. Vapor clouded the window's glass, slowly fading.

Oswald slowly opened his icy-blue eyes. Everything was blurry for a second, his senses imperfect. But with a few blinks, shapes reclaimed their sharpness. The rising sun granted the return of color. Like the pale peach of Ruby's face, currently tinted orange by the new light.

Oswald gasped. Jerked away. His heart hammered against his ribs, only to slow down once reality sank in. Ruby was curled up on her side, facing him. Lying atop the covers rather than under them, she slept steadily. Dried tearstains sparkled in the new day's light. Her short, curly hair spread across the pillow.

But there was one detail that Oswald noticed above all others: that his hand was nestled between both of Ruby's. Blushing deeply, he gently pried it out. Ruby's fingers twitched, grasping at nothing, before stilling. Oswald inhaled deeply, wondering what to do. Why hadn't the alarm clock resounded? Had it broken? Ruby should have been up by now. And yet...he wasn't ready to let her leave. Not yet.

As if somehow hearing him, a sleeping Ruby sighed and shifted closer to him. The top of her head rested on his side. Oswald felt electrical wires dancing beneath his skin. At this closeness, he could smell her peach conditioner and the soap from her pajamas. She was warm. And lovely. Without the shadow of a doubt, Oswald lay back down. Draping an arm across Ruby's shoulders. In a few minutes, he was sleeping again.

Eventually, Ruby's alarm clock did ring. Nearly an hour late, that is.

The Van Dahls' yelling snapped the two friends out of their dreams. Ruby and Oswald barely had time to say goodbye before time urged them forward. Oswald showered, put on his finest dark suit, and combed his hair back. Then, as an afterthought, made his own bed. Ruby didn't need anymore on her plate.

Indeed, after a rushed shower and nearly ripping into her black dress, Ruby hardly had time for her morning duties. First, she served breakfast to all three Van Dahls. Thankfully, the cook had been kind enough to have prepared it beforehand. Then, she quickly washed the dishes from the night before and took out the garbage. Such duties were hers, and not even a special (albeit awful) situation like this could change that.

It got even worse when the three demanded she help them get ready. Like a bunch of bloody five-year-olds.

"Will you get on with it, already?!" Sasha snapped as Ruby slipped the other's girl's coat on her. "The funeral is just an hour away!"

Like you care. Ruby bit her lip. "Don't worry, Miss." She promised, smoothing out wrinkles in the fabric. "We'll be there in a jiffy. The church is just around the corner, after all."

"We?" Sasha echoed with a smirk. "Oh, I guess Mother forgot to tell you."

Ruby stilled in the act of straightening Sasha's collar.

Sasha met her eyes in the mirror. Her own were like frozen gems: beautiful, but utterly unfeeling. "We've decided this funeral should be a family only thing."

Ruby froze. She felt as though she'd just been kicked in the gut. "What?"

"You heard me, freak." Sasha spun around, facing her fully. In her expensive coat and dress, complete with the onyx necklace and the perfect hair. A princess confronting a pauper. "You. Can't. Come."

"But I served him faithfully for eight years!" Ruby protested. "I was by his side when he died. I was his most loyal servant!"

"And we're all very grateful." Sasha rolled her eyes, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Look, you should already be happy we're bringing the emo pipsqueak along. If you get the same treatment, well, you'd inflate your ego."

Ruby's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "The 'emo pipsqueak' is the Master's only trueblood relative. The Master said so himself."

"Yeah, well, 'the Master' isn't here anymore, is he?" Sasha laughed. "And good riddance, I say. The old fart outlived his welcome." A second later she cried out. Riby's hand was clasped over her wrist like a manacle. Tight and solid. And growing tighter still. "Listen to me very carefully," Ruby hissed, "it's only because of Oswald, and his soft heart, that you and your repulsive family, haven't been kicked out. He begged me not to tell the Master, though I sorely wish I had."

A flash of understanding flickered behind Sasha's eyes. Then, she slipped on a mask of ignorance. "What're you talking about?"

"I know what you tried to do." Ruby tightened her hold even more. "And if you ever try again-"

"What in God's name is going on here?" Both heads turned to see Grace in the doorway. In her long, modest black dress and veiled face, she was the very image of widowhood. Sasha tore her wrist free of Ruby's grasp and ran to her mother. Hid behind her like a frightened animal. Ruby scowled.

Grace glared at Ruby in return. "You're in mourning, which is why I'll excuse you...this time." She said. "We're leaving now, and I want this place spotless by the time we get back." Sasha smirked and stuck her tongue out at Ruby from behind Grace's shoulder. Ruby shuddered with anger but was forced to bow. "Yes...Madame."

The clouds quickly cleared from Grace's face. Smiling, she nodded her goodbyes and took Sasha by the arm, escorting her out. Ruby heard the front door opening. Without thinking she bolted forward. Didn't stop running until her eyes found Oswald's. His eyes told her that he knew...and he liked it even less than she did. Oswald limped forward and took her hand. "I am so sorry," he said earnestly, "but..." He faltered, unable to say more. Ruby tried to smile. "It's...the way things are." She told him sadly. "Just...say goodbye to him for me. Please?"

Oswald gave a sad simper. He nodded. "Of course."

"Oswald!" Grace called. "Come on, the driver's ready!"

"Oh," Oswald flushed. Twisting his head to look back, he called, "Coming!" When he turned back, he found Ruby tucking something into his jacket's breast pocket. When her hands pulled away, the object gleamed in the light. A white rose. Oswald's eyes watered as they locked with Ruby's. She, too, was struggling to keep her emotions reigned in. She very nearly failed when Oswald brought her hand up and gently kissed her knuckles. "I'll be back soon." He promised.

"And I'll be waiting." Ruby promised back.

Minutes later, the door was closed. Ruby was alone. And the Master was gone. Unreachable, even in death. Ruby fell to her knees and broke out in tears.

The funeral was a small, sombre affair. The priest made a prayer for Elijiah's freed soul. He spoke of the man's life, of the good he'd done, of the friends he'd made. There were occasional nods from the ten or so attendants, as if in tune to a song only they could hear. Sasha played with her hair. Charles examined his fingernails. Grace did her best to look interested. Oswald, seated at the very edge of the pew, sobbed hysterically throughout the entire funeral. People shot him looks that ranged from sympathetic to annoyed. Oswald didn't see them. All he could see was the gleaming mahogany coffin, surrounded by lillies, that contained his last family.

When it was all over, he limped towards the coffin and knelt in front of it. At least, it felt like he did. Oswald could very well have crashed in front of it. Everything felt so hazy, unreal, as if he was the ghost watching over them rather than his dear father.

Oswald sniffled. "Father..." He wiped his eyes. "First...Ruby says hello...and goodbye. She's very sorry she couldn't be here, but..." He broke off, inhaling shakily. "She loved you very much, Father. I could see it. She worshipped you. You couldn't have had a more loyal servant." Talking about Ruby eased his pain, if only slightly. The pain came back, full-force, once he got to his own sentiments. "Father, I only knew you a short time. But you came to me when I was alone in this cold, dark world." The sobs bubbled in his throat. Streamed down his cheeks. "You gave me a family." His voice broke. "And I will never forget you...as long as I live." He broke down once again, squeezing his eyes shut. The pain was almost too much to bear. To much for a single person to hold. "Oh, Father." He moaned softly, mournfully.

Sasha rolled her eyes. Grace and Charles shared a bored glance.

At last, the funeral was over. The priest led the people out, single-file, like a teacher guiding her students out for a field trip. Oswald limped somewhere in the middle, carrying a bouquet of lillies in his arms as if it were a newborn. His 'family' trailed behind him. "What a bore." Sasha sighed.

"Yes, but the house is ours now." Charles smirked. "And we're rich."

The two siblings chuckled.

"Quiet!" Grace hissed.

Oswald spun around and crashed into Grace, hugging her tightly. She froze as though she'd just received a faceful of mud. Oswald hugged her, oblivious, as he struggled against the tears. "He loved us all so much." He sighed sadly, yet lovingly.

"Indeed." Grace replied neutrally. "Er," she tapped Oswald's back, "Oswald? Oswald!" He pulled back, wiping his nose. "As painful as this is, we need to talk practicalities." Grace explained. "Can I call you a cab, or will you take the bus?"

Oswald frowned in confusion. "I don't understand."

Grace stared at him as if he were mentally handicapped. "Well, you're not coming back to the house with us."

Oswald froze. His insides quickly turned into ice. His thoughts strayed to that wonderful old mansion, where his father had spent his life. Where Ruby awaited.

"Where shall I go?" He asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

"Anywhere but there." Charles piped up.

"Oswald," Grace masterfully regained control of the conversation, "I'm so happy that you and your father reconnected, but he left the house and the estate to me and, well, I'm simply not comfortable sleeping under the same roof as a notorious murderer." She was all too happy to push past him. Her children trailed after her. Oswald watched them, his family, so eager to leave him behind. In a matter of seconds, he felt like a man in quicksand. All he could do was try to find himself a rope.

"But I'm not like that anymore!" He shouted after them. "I-I couldn't hurt a fly, even if I wanted to!"

The three Van Dahls continued to walk away. His door was closing.

"Please!" His voice echoed throughout the church. Scared and tearful. "My father was all that I had. We share the same blood and..." He inhaled shakily. "And he wanted us to be together. He told me!"

Grace slowly turned around.

Oswald grasped this thin thread of chance. "Let me stay!" He begged. "I'll do anything!"

Grace walked back towards him, ignoring the shocked expressions worn by her offspring. "You are his blood." She agreed, "We do need help around the house."

Oswald blinked and smiled. It was the desperate simper worn by those brushed by death. A single thought passed through his head: I almost lost them both.

"Mother!" Sasha and Charles both declared.

Oswald's smile widened as Grace turned back to her children. "Why waste good money on servants when we have Oswald?"

"I'll do anything!" Oswald repeated, reassuring both his stepmother and himself.

"You can start by getting rid of those disgusting flowers." Grace smirked. "I've always detested lillies."

Oswald paused. "Oh! Uh..."

Grace quirked an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Oh, um..." Oswald swallowed. "I...intended to give them to Ruby." Sasha and Charles shared an amused glance. Grace thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "Fine. Give them to the scullery maid. They suit her." Not understanding the true meaning behind her words, Oswald nodded in agreement before limping out of the church.

Grace turned to both her children.

"You're not really letting him stay?" Charles asked incredulously.

"He's Elijiah's only natural son." Grace argued. "If he found the right lawyer, he could make things very difficult for us. Especially if people look into how his father died."

"So we just live with him, then?" Sasha snapped.

"Yeah, we keep him close." Grace replied. "And after a suitable amount of time, poor Oswald will be overcome with grief and take his own life." She smiled. "Until then, we have a free servant. I'll fire the maids. Including..." She winked at Sasha, who immediately grinned.