Chapter 84

"Ruby, you're being absurd!"

The young woman ignored him. She pushed two empty vats together, forming a small barrier, with her shoulders.

Yes. Shoulders. Not hands. She had lost the use in those five minutes ago, and her wrists had begun to itch.

"Ruby!" Oswald yelled. "Please, just listen!"

"Oz, please." Ruby's voice was croaked from so much sobbing. "I...I don't think I have much time left. It won't be long before my heart and lungs are down for the count. I don't want you to see that." She swallowed. "I can't choose the way I go, but I can choose who sees it and who doesn't." With a restrained whimper, she shouldered the vats until the gap between them closed.

Oswald sighed, turning away and cradling his face. For a few minutes, the only noises to be heard were Ruby's grunts and the scraping of metal against concrete. He wanted to say so much, yet he couldn't find the words. It was like trying to uleash an entire river through a syringe. With a second sigh, he looked back at Ruby. She sat up, panting and wiping sweat from her brow. Her hands hung uselessly like overripe fruit. It was a startling sight.

But not as much as the block of ice. Or, rather, a thin triagle. Somehow, despite the flame's voracious appetite, the chain was still taut enough to keep him from taking an acid shower. But time waits for no one. Not even the head of the underworld, if he could still wear such a title. Before too long, that rope of rusty metal would come lose and the vat would go bottoms-up. But not before Ruby died. Edward had made that abundantly clear.

That was when Oswald heard something. For a second he hardly recognized them, trapped as he'd been in this horror show.

But then, he realized what he was listening to. Especially as it neared, giving him a better chance to hear.

"Ruby!" His cry stopped his friend in her tracks. She turned around, eyes wide, just in time to see a flashlight blink into being like an evening star. She gasped. "HEY!" Yelling, she tried to crawl closer but winced. Held her ribs. Panic shot through Oswald. It was spreading. "HELP! He screamed. "HELP, WE'RE IN HERE!"

The footsteps stopped for a second, then quickened. Grew louder. At last, a figure appeared. A guard. He slowed down as he entered, taking in the scene with huge eyes. "What in tarnation is going on here?"

"Untie me at once!" Oswald yelled. "I must take my friend to a hospital! Quick!"

The guard, deaf to Oswald's words, flashed the light in his pallid face. "Who're you?"

"I am the mayor of Gotham!" Oswald replied, trying to remain calm. "And if you do what I ask, you will be handsomely rewarded. Now DO IT!"

"Um, uh..." The guard flashed the torch above Oswald, examining the suspended vat, before finally seeing Ruby. "Oh, there she is. What's wrong with her?"

"Oh, nothing." Ruby replied sarcastically. "Just, you know, dying."

The guarded sniggered. "The little lady's got a sense of humor."

Suddenly Ruby's eyes widened. Rolling on her back she began to hyperventilate. All color drained from her face. Through their bond Oswald felt it. His lungs, growing cold and flabby as jellyfish. The heart beating even more frantically, burning and aching, even as the poison began to seep towards it. He cried out, struggled against his chains. "Get me out of these chains! She can't breathe! HURRY!"

"Okay, okay!" The guard looked around before tugging at the chains. When he spotted the locks hanging from Oswald's wrist and ankle, he picked at them. Then, brightening, he summoned his gun. "Hold still!" He advised before firing. With a jolt and a spark they fell away. Oswald wasted no time in freeing himself. The policeman helped a bit, but he wasn't nearly fast enough for the mayor's liking. Jumping to his feet, and ignoring his bum knee, Oswald ran towards Ruby. Out of instinct she'd tried to grasp her throat, but her useless hands simply sat there, lax and unmoving. Judging by how boneless her arms were from the elbow down, the muscles had gone out there, too. Her gasps were growing more desperate.

Oswald spun around. "Free her!"

Without checking to see if the cop had heard (or obeyed), Oswald pulled Ruby on his lap. He allowed himself a moment to rejoice. Finally, he could touch her again. It had only been a couple of hours, but it felt like ages. Like water on parched soil, he celebrated her strong, solid form. Her warmth.

Then, he pressed his lips over hers. He felt her body - what was left unaffected, at least - stiffen from shock. Concentrating, he breathed in deeply through his nostrils and exhaled into Ruby's mouth. He put his hand on her chest. There! He felt his breath raise the skin underneath. It was slight, but it was there. Smiling against Ruby's lips, he placed the other hand in her hair. He proceeded to breathe for her, into her, even as his own lungs complained about the lack of air.

Two gunshots, and Ruby was free.

Granting her one last, generous breath, Oswald pulled away for a second. Ruby kept her lips sealed, trying to keep in the oxygen. Oswald licked his slightly sore mouth, and tasted strawberry lipbalm. Ruby looked at him with wide eyes, a thousand emotions churning through them, as he freed her limbs. Once the chains released her from their cold bite, Oswald slipped an arm under her knees. Then, he stopped.

He realized.

He couldn't carry her. Ruby weighed a good thirty pounds more than him, and he had a damaged knee that barely tolerated his own weight.

Swallowing hard, he turned to demand the cop's assistance.

Instead, he found himself looking into a pair of familiar eyes. One dark brown. One icy, icy blue.

His mouth went as dry as sandpaper. He tried to swallow. And failed. "Fish?"

"Hello, Oswald." The former boss nodded cordially. Looking past him, she saw Ruby. A ripple of concern shone on her face. Oswald seized the occasion. "I know I hardly deserve it," he said, "but please, delay whatever act of vengeance you wish to rain down on me. Ruby is dying. She can barely breathe on her own. Please."

Ruby tried to talk, but all that came out was a wheeze. She bit her lip hard. Her body convulsed, void of air.

Without talking, Fish reached into her jacket's inner pockets. She extracted something that was worth more than all the money in the world: a mask of plastic and metal, not unlike the ones found in airplanes.

Ruby tried to grab it, but of course couldn't. Oswald took the mask and placed it over his friend's face. Her gasps slowed down, causing the bag attached to the mask to shrink and grow in rapid succession. At last her breathing steadied, and she smiled tenderly up at Oswald. Tears filled his eyes, matching her own, as he bent down and embraced her. She tried to return the gesture, but her muscles ignored her.

"It's only a temporary solution, dear." A male voice boomed through the chamber. Heads turned. Standing in the doorway, with the unconscious cop at his feet, stood Hugo Strange. He, like Fish, was dressed in cheap and mismatched clothing: a white shirt, a black coat with shoulder pads, and worn jeans. Yet his glasses, and his devilish smile, remained the same. "We must hurry," he advised, "before the poison begins affecting her heart as well."

A dusty Toyota, with dried mud on its wheels and its license plate changed, skidded through the city. Avoiding busy streets lest Nygma's spies be watching, it moved through alleys and narrow roads. Every so often it drove on a red light, cut other cars off, or simply trespassed on a sidewalk. Fish drove with one hand, using the other to twirl her red-dyed locks this way and that. Hugo sat in the passenger seat, repeatedly looking back at his creation. Ruby lay with her head on Oswald's lap, struggling to breathe. Oswald stroked her hair, holding her hand even though he knew she couldn't feel it. She looked up at him with tired, bloodshot eyes. They were filled with such love that Oswald wondered how he could have failed to see it before.

"It's alright, Ruby. Breathe." He tried to console her. "Everything is going to be alright. Professor Strange will fix you up, good as new." He looked up. "Will you not?"

"It should be an easy task." Strange replied, meeting his gaze through the rearview mirror. "You told me the poison administered is the same substance used in Botox injections. Normally, those exposed to it have to wait anything between 12 to 72 hours to see an effect, but Nygma's meddling made the venom act quickly. Worry not, though: in all other cases, antitoxins work. The same should be applied here."

"'Should'?" Oswald echoed. His terror quickly boiled into anger. "If Ruby dies because of your incompetence-"

Strange spun around so rapidly it silenced Oswald. The scientist's expression finished the job. "I will do everything I can, and more. Ruby Sinclair is some of my finest work, and I have no intention of letting it go to waste." His voice simmered. "Do not mistakenly believe that you are the only one in this vehicle to care about her."

Oswald bit his lip, scowling but silent. He resumed looking down at Ruby, who had tensed during the discussion. Adjusting her mask, he pushed some hair out of her eyes. Avoiding eye contact, he asked, "How did you find us?"

"Easy." This time, it was Fish who answered. Without looking away from the road, she reached down and grabbed a stick of gum. She elaborated while leisurely chewing. "We got a phone call a coupla hours ago by some dude who knows your friend here. Uh, don't remember his name. Malachite, or some shit."

"Mercury." Ruby whispered, amazed. A tiny smile appeared on her face.

"Yeah, him." Fish zipped past a Maserati, ignoring the curses that poured from its window. "He said he got Hugo's name from a scrap o' paper Ruby kept 'just in case'. The hospital, the GCPD, a few gangsters who owe her a favor, stuff like that. He said Ruby'd been gone for hours and wasn't answering her phone, which never happened. So, we started our way back here." She blew a bubble the size of a tennis ball. It cracked, then slipped back between her lips. "I checked my cell every once in a while, since nothin' good was on the radio, and found a few vids of your friend falling from the sky."

Oswald stopped. Momentarily stunned, but his anger made a rebound. "Videos?"

"Yeah, Facebook and Instagram are full of 'em." Fish took a hard left. "I thought they might've been fake, but yeah. Hugo recognized her."

Oswald's hands clenched into fists. He envisioned dozens of people seeing Ruby crashing into the building, losing gallons of blood, and filming it all with vague interest. Like her being stabbed through the throat and falling through a window had been a spectacle arranged for them. They had filmed Ruby's take-down, uploaded it on the Internet for the world to see, and then went about their daily lives. Probably not feeling a crumb of guilt over it.

Ruby coughed. Winced. Oswald felt it through their bond. The muscles in his throat, starting to slack off. His heart, slowing down. Then, slowing down some more.

No.

Not her, too.

Oswald bent over her. Looked into her eyes. Carefully, he removed her mask. Before she could notice the lack of air, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. Fully. Gently. Desperately. He felt Ruby gasp against his lips, then return the kiss as well as she could. She moved her lips against his, shy but longing, as he breathed into her again. The taste of strawberries invaded his mouth again. Flutters ran down Oswald's spine. He felt ghostly touches as Ruby held him not with her hands, but with her mind. He pulled away, pulled the mask back over Ruby's face, and rested his forehead on hers. "Don't you dare." He whispered. "Don't you dare surrender, Ruby Sinclair. That's an order."

Ruby's face was the color of a ripe cherry. She gave a sheepish smile. He felt her thoughts tapping against his mind's door, asking to be let in. Oswald consented, and heard her voice. It was barely above a whisper:

You didn't have to do that.

Oswald gave a short, quiet bark of a laugh.

I needed to motivate you somehow.

Ruby rolled her eyes.

A strawberry-banana milkshake would've been enough.

Oswald cupped her cheek.

I'll buy you a Dairy Queen before the week is out.

Ruby nodded, still smiling feebly.

Deal.

Then, she dozed off. Oswald held her close, but let her sleep. Heavens knew she needed it. In an attempt to distract himself, he set to work cleaning the congealing blood from her face. Finding a box of Kleenex under the seat, he doused each tissue with water (courtesy of an abandoned bottle near his foot) and gently rubbed it against each stain. As he busily scrubbed away each spot of red, he reflected. Why had he kissed Ruby? Well, he knew that what he'd told her had been true, at least in part: if there was even the smallest chance that kissing her would motivate her enough to hold on, then he'd kiss her until both their mouths were bruised. Even though guilt gnawed at him, hissing that he was simply leading her on, he tried his best to stifle it. Desperate times, desperate measures.

But as the last of the blood came away on the soggy tissue, Oswald realized something.

Deep down, beneath the outer surface of serenity that he was more-or-less maintaining for Ruby's sake, he was terrified. Terrified that he would lose her, just as he'd lost his parents and the love of the only man he'd ever been infatuated with. The thought crippled him. But at the same time it pushed him. Made him hold onto her however he could.

In truth, that kiss had been planted to save them both.

The car began to slow down, at last. Oswald glanced out the grimy window. Dirty brick walls flanked the car as it came to a halt. In front of them was a ruined old building that probably hadn't heard a human voice in years. The windows were boarded up. The door was little more than a large rectangle of rotting wood. The walls were so filthy with dirt and graffiti that Oswald couldn't guess their original color. The roof had more holes in it than cartoon cheese.

Fish killed the engine, then claimed the keys. "C'mon, my little penguin." She purred. "It's time to visit the doctor."

"You mean...?" Oswald could barely finish his sentence.

"Yes." Professor Strange answered. "This used to be a clinic. We were able to revitalize a few of the machines, and stole some goods from the pharmacy in downtown." He looked first at Oswald, then at the sleeping young woman in his lap. "I saved her life once, nine years ago. We must hope that I can do it again."