Chapter 85

The next couple of hours lasted an eternity.

Oswald watched, feeling as powerless as a moth in a snowstorm, as Ruby was laid to rest on a dusty mattress. Fish knelt beside her, whispering motherly words of encouragement, while Strange snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. He removed the mask, replacing it with a tube hooked to a humming machine. Once Ruby was breathing steadily, Strange summoned a bottle of antitoxin. He injected the rubbery cap with a syringe. Slowly, its glass belly filled. Then, he tied a strap to Ruby's bicep. Before long, the blue vein appeared in the crook of her elbow. Oswald held her hand as the syringe sank in. The liquid drained into her bloodstream. Ruby merely blinked down at the process, both comforted and disturbed by the numbness.

They repeated the procedure again, and again.

Until Ruby cracked a smile.

Oswald was the first to notice. He leaned over her, protective as a hen. "What is it, dear?"

Ruby's indigo eyes shifted downward. Oswald's icy blues followed. Her toes, the nails still painted that pearly pink color. They were twitching.

A tear ran down Ruby's cheek. "I can..."

"Yes." Strange undid the strap from Ruby's bicep. He smiled down at her as though she were a child he'd just given a flu shot to. "I've injected you with enough antitoxin to begin undoing the poison's effects. It's risky to use too much all at once, ergo you will require another three shots in," he examined his watch, "an hour. By that time, the numbness in your legs will have worn off. But you still cannot breathe on your own, so do not remove it."

"It burns." Ruby's nose twitched.

"I know." Strange replied. "But do not remove it, all the same."

Ruby sighed, but didn't argue.

Strange left the dank room, his eyes set on the car and its hidden supplies. Fish watched him go, then cast a small but kind smile on Ruby. She put her hand on her arm. "I'll get you something warm to eat. You need your strength."

Both touched and confused, Ruby blinked. Hesitantly returned Fish's simper. "Thank you."

Nodding, Fish departed. Ruby looked up and found Oswald wearing the same befuddled expression that she felt on her own face. "Do you think she wants to poison me, too?"

"No, no." Oswald shook his head. "Believe me, I worked with Miss Mooney for quite a while. She is an impatient woman. If she'd wanted to do you harm, she already would have. Given your vulnerable condition, it would have been child's play."

Ruby shook her head. Slowly, as though it weighed a ton. Her eyes never left Oswald's visage. "You wouldn't have let her."

Oswald felt his cheeks flush with embarressment. "You have too much faith in me."

"You don't have enough faith in yourself." Ruby countered. They looked at each other for a long moment, never breaking eye contact even as he sat down, wincing. Oswald looked at Ruby's feet, and snickered. They wouldn't hold still. Her heels were tapping against the soggy mattress, and her toes kept wiggling.

The hour passed quickly, greased by Oswald and Ruby's conversation. Even when Fish brought Ruby some Chinese take-out, thankfully avoiding any meat dishes, they talked enthusiastically. Even though Ruby had to be spoonfed due to her arms' uselessness, they tackled one subject after another. They spoke of everything and nothing, laughing and exchanging ideas, all the while carefully tip-toing over the scorched earth that was their ordeal. It was there, pregnant with dread and drenched with pain, but they ignored it. Surely it would haunt their nightmares. But for now, in this small haven, they had each other and a thousand different topics. That was more than enough.

It facilitated Oswald's plan. He didn't like it, but he could not ignore it either.

Ruby's second round of antitoxin proved easier, and more efficient, than its predecessor. Before the third injection had entered her bloodstream, she found her fingertips twitching. Before long, she could lift her arms.

Laughing, Ruby removed the tube from her nose and began jumping on the mattress like a five-year-old. Oswald couldn't help chuckling at her enthusiasm, at her newfound energy. But before long, Ruby was sputtering. She quickly reclaimed the tube and breathed deeply. Glaring at Strange, she demanded, "What the hell?"

"Your lungs will need time to recover, my dear." The doctor paitently replied. He stood near the shadows, his eyes flickering every now and then. Searching for intruders. "But worry not. Surely by tomorrow morning, you shall recover."

Ruby blinked, then sighed. "Fine." She lay down, arms crossed behind her head. Suddenly her eyes widened. Looking down at herself she grimaced. "Goddamn it, look at me. I'm filthy." Oswald followed her eyes, and felt silly. She was still wearing those bloodstained clothes. Yet during their conversation, he'd hardly noticed them. He'd simply been overjoyed to see her face, animated and expressive and alive.

Fish smirked. Summoning a plastic bag as if from magic, she tossed it Ruby's way. "Here ya go, sugar."

Ruby peaked inside and grinned. "Awesome, thanks!" She looked at her former adversary. "Where'd you buy them?"

"I didn't 'buy' them." Fish held up a hand and winked. "Five finger discount."

"Of course." Ruby rolled her eyes. With Oswald's help she rose and headed for the bathroom. The machine dragged behind her, connected by her breathing tube. Which, amazingly, was still functional. No wonder Strange had selected this location. Smiling in thanks at her friend, she disappeared behind the door. The tube snaked in after her.

She continued to smile as she looked at the bathroom. It was not much, with pale green tiles everywhere and rust stains bleeding down the walls. But the mirror, while cracked, still served its purpose. And above all, the sink and bath tub were clean.

As hot water sloshed into the tub, frothing where Ruby added soap (courtesy, again, of Fish's adept fingers), she shed her stiffened clothing. Leaving them in a pile, she examined the items that Fish had given her. A dark green sweatshirt that was easily three sizes too large and inky-blue jeans that probably would have fit Butch. But they were clean, and the material felt soft. That was all that mattered.

As her jewelry sat at the bottom of the sink, which she'd filled with warm soapy water, Ruby finally stepped into the tub.

The first thing she did was scoop a handful of water and pour it on her face. But when she looked down at herself, finally, everything came slamming down. Her body was a tapestry of dried blood and bruises. Some were sickly-green while others were trimmed with purple. Her ankles and wrists were still raw from being restrained. The contours of her mouth was dark and aching from the tight gag. On her shoulders were red hand-prints from where Edward had dragged her unconscious body towards the trap.

Her body was like a hideous movie, rewinding the day's events and shoving them in her face.

Every bruise, every cut, every moment of pain.

And every single one had come from the same person. The one she'd finally come to trust and care about.

Breaking down into sobs, Ruby began to scrub away the blood. Angry, frightened, she dragged the sponge against her skin until it was begging for mercy. Then she dunked her head and doused it with soap, combing out the chunks of dried gore. Soon the water became pink, then a dull red. She sat in it as it cooled, clean and pink. Hugging her knees to her chest she sobbed, shaking her head and whispering the same thing over and over:

"Why?"

Two hours passed, and the sun began to set. Long, beautiful shadows trickled across the floor like spilled tar. Ruby sat on the mattress, which had since obtained a few blankets. Oswald lay next to her, a secondhand copy of Moby Dick sitting open on his chest and soft snores escaping his mouth. Every now and then Ruby looked back at him, and felt her heart ache at his beauty. At his porcelain skin, contrasting his ebony hair. His long lashes rested gracefully on the dark crescents beneath his eyes. But his lovely features were slightly marred by the angry red bruises running along the sides of his mouth. Bruises that matched hers. Reminding her of that awful silence between them, their words of comfort muffled by cloth digging into their mouths.

Ruby traced the bruises with her fingers, taking care not to wake him. Oswald mumbled something and leaned towards her touch. The unconscious act twisted a knife in the young woman's heart. Only in sleep did Oswald truly drop all barriers, even those he kept from her. As multi-faceted as a diamond, Oswald was many things. He was a fierce kingpin that demanded respect. He was a charismatic, smooth-talking gentleman. He was a slightly spoiled child smothered by his mother. He was a lonely child tormented by bullies. Ruby had come to meet all of these personas, and had fallen in love with every single one of them. Because they all fused to create Oswald.

The only man she'd ever loved, even though he didn't reciprocate.

Yet today, he'd kissed her. Twice. Once for her, once for both. She was still reeling from it.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Oswald suddenly winced. His eyes fluttered open, meeting hers. Offering a quick smile, he soon turned his attention to his knee. Wincing he began to rub it. This caused him to wince even more. Suddenly, Ruby knew what to do. It was so simple, so clear. She gently shooed Oswald's hands away. Then, she began to massage his knee. Oswald looked away, embarressed. Ruby nudged him, still working. When he looked at her, she gave a gentle smile. "You helped me today." Ruby informed him. "You helped me stay alive. I want to return the favor, if only a little bit."

Oswald gave a nervous smile. She'd never rubbed his bum knee before. Not once. Mostly, it was because he'd asked her not to. He'd been too ashamed to let a powerful creature such as she see such a dire weakness in him. The closest she'd come was when they were Cobblair. They always inherited her hips and legs. And afterward, his knee always hurt less.

But this was new.

Then again, so had kissing her.

Oswald swallowed as he watched her work. She concentrated, seemingly knowing exactly when and where to apply pressure. Soon, he felt the agony leaking away like water from a faucet. All that was left was a deep, soothing void.

Ruby grinned as she let go. "There," she brushed some hair out of her eyes, "good as new."

Oswald's heart ached. Despite knowing what he had to do, and that the hour was drawing near, it still hurt. Because of how many ways it could go wrong. And how it may result in him not returning. In him hurting her, yet again. But it was either that, or live in doubt.

Ruby yawned.

Oswald covered her hand with his. "You've had quite the ordeal. You should sleep."

Ruby hesitated, then asked, "Promise you'll be here when I wake up?"

Oswald paused, then nodded. "I promise." The lie sat on his tongue like a stone. It grew even heavier when Ruby lay down. He instinctively did the same. She chuckled and snuggled into him, wrapping an arm around him. Oswald did the same. This was not unusual for them, unlike everything else that had happened today.

Both had lost count of the times that they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, either after a long night of film-viewing or working. One of the best times had been during Oswald's first Christmas with Ruby. After learning that he'd never seen any of the holiday classics (The Grinch, A Christmas Story, A Charlie Brown Christmas, and It's A Wonderful Life), she'd bought all of them, all but tied him to the sofa, and ordered Chinese take-out. By the time the marathon had ended, they had both been cuddling on the couch, leftover soy sauce drying on their faces. It had been one of the least traditional, and most memorable holidays of Oswald's life.

Oswald smiled at the memory as Ruby slowly went limp, her breathing going steady. Her arm remained latched around his middle, both protective and in need of protection. He stayed there for as long as he could, memorizing the feeling. Then, when he knew that it could be delayed no longer, he hugged her tightly before laying her down. Covering her with one of the blankets, Oswald tip-toed out of the room. He quickly checked his pockets to ensure that he had enough to pay for cabfare.

He had some questions that Barbara Kean would have to answer to.