Chapter Summary
Four times she didn't know he was there, and one time she did. Canon-Divergent/AU
Notes
So originally this was going to be the reverse- 4 times she knew, 1 time she didn't. But then I got to thinking, and realized I could write the attic incident I mentioned in The Odd Happenings of Heelshire Manor in this. I haven't written this format style before, so it's a good exercise to see if I can pull it off too. It was going to be five, initially- but I didn't quite have enough ideas for times she didn't know, hah.
Ruby had only just finished the 'interview,' if it could be called that. There had been questions, yes, but it seemed more likely that they'd been observing her interactions with Brahms.
She'd been just as surprised to see that 'Brahms' had been a doll as the household had when they'd seen her pink hair, she thinks.
She'd been prompt and yet polite in explaining that her hair color of choice was an impulsive decision, and that she would be willing to return it to black if need be.
The Heelshires had said little about the doll, watching in icy silence as she'd reigned in her confusion, Ruby smiling and shaking the tiny porcelain hand.
"I hope you and I can become friends while your parents are away, Brahms."
They approved of that, at the very least. They hadn't turned her away, allowing her to continue with the trial day as they walked her through what the required routine would look like. It was a thin line to walk- being careful so as not to damage the doll, and yet treating him more significantly than one. His mother made it clear he was to be treated like a boy.
And now, they had asked for a few moments alone with him, to ask for his opinion. She'd smiled and nodded, stepping back a few paces as Mr. Heelshire moved to close the door, idly walking a bit down the hall to allow for greater privacy.
She doesn't hear the lock click shut behind her, nor does she notice the panel in the wall that opens to allow a third voice to join the Heelshires discussion.
He thinks she's lovely, exactly the way that she is. Her little pauses after asking a question, her subtle head tilt as if listening for him- that was something no other nanny had done, and he quite liked it. It made him feel as if she knew he was there, and she had yet to get his 'response' incorrect.
He made a point to demand that her hair stays as it is, when his mother voiced concern. The color was pretty on her, and he wanted her to be happy here, after all.
The mess in his room the next morning is another surprise- she's not sure how a doll could throw a tantrum. She's about to offer to assist in tidying up when Mr. Heelshire seems to appear out of nowhere at her side, causing her to jump before giving a slightly sheepish smile.
"I apologize for the rush, Ms. White. It's simply been so long since we've been on holiday and we're anxious to be off." As he speaks, he moves down the hallway, the clear indication being for her to follow.
With one last glance at Brahms, who seems to be watching from his spot at the foot of the bed, she complies. Mr. Heelshire continues with a comment on how fond Brahms is of her already. She supposes that's a plus- it would be a recipe for disaster if they felt as though he didn't like her.
Mr. Heelshire goes over the rules and schedule, and she reads both over carefully once the papers have been handed to her. The rules are easy enough to remember- she can put them on the fridge for a few days as well, just in case.
It's the schedule she'll trust to keep her on track while settling in- it wouldn't do to fail at that.
It's only when they're saying their goodbyes, Ruby wishing them a restful, enjoyable holiday causing them to exchange a look she can't quite decipher- that it truly sinks in how much of an oddity the job will be.
He watches them go- he doesn't like this part of things, not one bit. Thankfully, they'd promised it was only so that they would not be in the way, so he could get to know her easier.
His spot barely lets him see her outline on the front stairs, watching as the taxi drives away, her shoulders rising and falling as if she were taking a deep breath, before she turning to the doll in her arms.
"Ready for breakfast, doudou? I was thinking I could make waffles, eggs, and bacon." Her voice reaches him even here as she moves back inside, shutting the door behind her. She looks at the doll, lips curved into a smile.
"Ah, sorry. 'Doudou' was something I learned in childhood- it's an affectionate term for a favorite companion. Though I suppose I'm a bit too old to use it now, hmm?"
He doesn't think so at all- the fact that she's already assigned a pet name to his stand-inis as much a treat as the breakfast she has planned will be.
Ruby wasn't oblivious to flirting, and stars above was Malcolm flirting.
It drew a faintly amused smile as she very gently redirected the conversation to one of far more platonic undertones, inquiring about the story behind the doll. She hadn't felt it right to ask the Heelshires.
The reason is no less than heartbreaking, and she knows it shows- so he's quick to lighten the mood with an offer to go out.
Against her better judgment, she agrees, making plans to go out that night after Brahms has gone to bed.
He doesn't like that she's leaving- in every other aspect she's been perfect, this slip up has to be a one time thing.
Growling as he stalks the passageways in the wall, he pauses as he passes by her room.
A dress is laid out on the bed, the sounds of her singing softly in the shower coming from across the hall. The coast is clear, allowing him to slip out and take it.
Surely, without it she won't leave, after all. And it will be so lovely to have something she's worn.
Ruby is confused and a little bit grumpy come morning. She'd had to cancel the plans after her dress had disappeared while she'd been getting ready, and then her entry in her journal about it had been scribbled out.
Very odd indeed. Ducking her head under the hot spray of the shower, she scrubs her worries away and gets ready for the day-only to hear a thud from the attic as she gets out, towel wrapped around her.
"That's….odd. Maybe it's the house settling…." She hesitates in the doorway for a moment, before looking down at her towel-clad self and back up. A quick glance around the hall reveals the attic door's location, a hook to pull it down leaning against the wall.
"Okay. Throw something on, then investigate. Worst that happens is breakfast arriving a little bit late, and I can apologize to Brahms for that." She takes a deep breath, letting it out soon after and heading to her room. She wasn't about to risk splinters if she could help it.
He hadn't intended to lure her up to the attic- not really. He'd planned to do it last night, if she'd found something else to wear to go out, but she hadn't, instead calling Malcolm to cancel without explaining what happened and writing it off as sudden fatigue.
She'd explained the vanishing dress in that journal of hers as forgetting to pack it-that her thinking she'd laid it out was merely due to having worn it so often.
He hadn't been able to resist scribbling that out.
He'd been about to move and spy on her further when there's the groan of wood, a soft exclamation of surprise, and then the abrupt sound of crashing as the ceiling collapses, sending her to the ground a floor below.
Ruby had been about to investigate a box that, if she squinted amidst the dark, seemed to read 'photo albums.' Suddenly, she takes a wrong step, and the ground collapses from underneath her.
She doesn't have enough time to avoid it, crashing to the ground hard enough to leave her dazed and sore, and fading in and out of consciousness.
At some point, though, she becomes aware of a distinctly human shadow. Naturally, she does the logical thing to do when you can't seem to find your voice.
She raised her hand in a wave.
The silhouette seems surprised, but waves back, just before Ruby fades out of consciousness again.
When she comes to again, she's taller- sort of. It takes a moment of agonizing focus before she realizes that she's in someone's arms, and she shifts to press her face a little closer in protest of the headache.
The last thought she has before she fades again, unaware of how the person carrying her tenses at her movement, is that this must be what it feels like to have a parent care enough to carry your sleeping form from the car.
There are blurry memories, foggy fragments, from the rest of the day. An arm gently propping her up and a voice urging her to drink just a bit more water, the rattle of pills that she assumes to be painkillers despite having no memory of swallowing them, a blanket that had gone missing returned and pulled up to her chin- it will go missing again, before being replaced with a different one.
She'll later learn it's because the blankets tend to absorb her scent, and it's a comfort before they were face to face to use them like that.
He hadn't expected her to actually see him, but he couldn't just leave her on the ground like that, explanation be damned.
But then she'd waved, and startled, he waved back just in time to see her pass out. He's hoping she didn't hit her head- that tends to be bad.
Scooping her up, he marvels at how well she fits in his arms, as though she was made to be held by him. It almost makes him want to crawl into bed with her, holding her while she rests and soothing her pain when she wakes.
But that would creep her out, if she won't already be by the constant changing of her position.
His thoughts are cut off when she groans softly, before pressing her face against his chest- he's especially glad he'd showered while she was outside, with how close she's pressed into his embrace.
Ruby doesn't seem to be awake for long, fading out again before he can process.
He'll take care of her, and when she's settled, he'll retreat into the darkness again.
For now, he could relish in her light, and wait for the day when she would banish the shadows amidst his life once and for all.
Just wanted to make it clear-Ruby doesn't remember swallowing painkillers because Brahms did initially go to give her them, but second-guessed and didn't. He did leave them on her nightstand however, with water. [Which was stale by the time she woke up, but hey. Thought that counts]