Slung over the edge of a trashcan, Ruby continued to heave. Her head swirled through rolling pangs of dizziness. Her weight would not settle in one place, and she kept shifting her body between gag reflexes.
"I get you an ID, and only one day later, you show up at my door shitfaced," Roman sighed. He held out a water bottle.
Ruby brought her fingers up to the bottle, but before she could touch it, her body contracted. Her throat squeezed painfully as she held her face over the trashcan, but the only thing coming out of her mouth anymore was a spray of saliva.
When the heaving ceased, she fell back against the wall and took the water bottle from Roman.
"What were you thinking?"
Ruby tossed her head with a grunt, figuring that he asked rhetorically. She opened the bottle and chugged until nothing remained within. Her consciousness faded at its edges, sounds barely coherent and sights fleeting in memory.
A pillow appeared in her lap, punctuated by Roman's voice as it faded away. "Try not to ruin it, please."
Ruby snuggled it to her face, sliding down the wall until she was on the floor. The sensation in her body was different from any other pain she had experienced. Pain like a gunshot wound was centralized, ignorable. But this deep-seated nausea rolled relentlessly through her body, and even after doing nothing but throwing up for the past thirty minutes, she would sooner trip over her own feet on the ground than successfully stand.
She felt the urge to stay awake, to fight the sweeping darkness as if it would kill her. The anxiety was the most damning; the situation she was in would most certainly not kill her, but her mind kept telling her that she needed to get to a safe place before she passed out. She would have given anything to be in her childhood home in that moment.
Despite her inner monologue, she appeared to be completely thoughtless, a shell of a body that shut down.
"I feel like garbage," she murmured. "How do I stop this?"
"Water and time," Roman responded. "How much did you drink?"
"Uh…like, eight ounces."
He laughed. "Oh my god, that's pathetic."
Ruby had no energy to retort as Roman cracked himself up over Ruby's predicament.
"Water," she said.
As Ruby slept on the floor, Roman made arrangements for the White Fang rally. Despite his sarcastic air in his response to Ruby's drunk request, he considered the implications of failing to make an appearance. However, if he failed to attend, he would have to answer to Cinder, who might send him to early retirement. The implications would stretch miles out, and according to Ruby, this may be the pivotal point between life and death.
He could not care less about the welfare of the world, but Ruby was right; having someone who could predict the events of the next three years could be very lucrative—among other things. He wondered if he could dig all the pertinent information out of her now and kill her once he knew everything. But how long would that take? And how slowly would he have to get information out of her to ensure that she would not learn of his true intentions?
Roman scratched his head. As much as it damaged his ego to admit, he knew nothing about the shape that the future would take. If he decided to kill her too soon, he might be cutting himself off from information that could save his neck down the line. If he killed her too late, he may be imprisoned once the rest of the world had what they needed out of him.
Soft mumbling permeated the silence and called Roman's attention over to Ruby, who now stirred.
"Hey, Ruby," he called out.
"Hm?" she hummed.
"Are Neo and Junior immune to this disease?"
"Nuh-uh. Junior's dead and Neo's close." Ruby pushed herself off the ground with shaking arms. "Why you ask?"
He turned away from her. "Just curious."
"And before you get any ideas, you won't be able to manufacture the cure without Ozpin's help."
He laughed softly. "You're a lot smarter than I thought."
"Damn straight." Ruby prepared to stand, but she suddenly settled back down, putting a hand to her head. "Shit, that hurts."
"I have painkillers in the cabinet." He gestured to the kitchen.
"Have you found your gun yet?" she asked.
"Yeah, didn't take long to find."
Ruby groaned as she found solid footing. Her form in his peripheral operated in a state of garish disarray, shoulders hunched and back misaligned.
"What are you doing?" Ruby reached for the painkillers on the top shelf, fingers grazing the container but failing to wrap around it.
Roman rolled his knuckles across his cheek, watching her with a distracted murmur in the back of his head.
Ruby turned. Her eyes locked onto his computer, adjacent from a flyer dangling from his fingers. "Oh, White Fang stuff." She rubbed her head.
Roman felt the urge to look away, but for some reason, he wouldn't give in. He was somehow fixated. The way the edges of her body are sharply defined, even in her post-intoxicated state. The shapes moved in a mesmerizing fashion, blurring his vision until he could see nothing but her outline, the fringes of her hair swaying gently with each movement.
He stopped and returned to his work with a hasty defiance.
"Have you decided?" she asked.
"No. Batting around the particulars."
Ruby shrugged and walked away, the bottle finally in her hand. He failed to notice that she had finally been able to reach it.
"What particulars? I might be able to help."
"I doubt that," he said.
"You mean the person who has insider information on what the future's gonna be?"
Roman rolled his eyes. "Okay then—let's say I don't go. What then?"
"I dunno. I figured you would have a plan for that. Don't you criminal types always look for the way out before you look for the way in?"
Roman's face fell. He paused before speaking again. "This is my way out."
"What are you talking about?" Ruby's interest piqued at his sudden change in tone.
"It's a deal I made a long time ago. I'm sure you know the details," given how things have reportedly turned out.
Ruby raised an eyebrow. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Strange," he said.
"…And?" Ruby's eyes bore into him with such an intensity that almost startled him. He had seen so many terrifying faces, torn apart by scars and pain, but this kind of determined focus on such an honest, unyielding face was unexpectedly new. Under her gaze, eyes shining as they always did, shrouded by that dark curtain around her fair, unblemished face, he stopped.
Roman sucked in a breath, ignoring her and resuming his business.
Sorry, I'm an asshole and I haven't gotten many days off from work. It's really hard to write when you have a soul-sucking job that requires you to talk to people at any given moment during the day for SEVEN HOURS AT A TIME. Yikes. Someone save me.
Well, on to reviews!
cipher111996: I don't know if he'll make an appearance (he has a very high alcohol tolerance), but you'll definitely see him in positions where he needs to blow off a lot of steam-he just doesn't do it with booze, per se...
neverfadehaz: I feel the same way about most of the fanfictions I used to read...it's like they didn't get updated at all in the time since I started reading them. I know they definitely can't because of some copyright stuff, but it would be great if they could give out monetary incentives to people who publish updates regularly. Kinda like Webtoon, ya dig?
I apologize if my review responses are kind of weird today..it has just been a LONG week talking about nothing except retail. Kill me.
I hope to get the next chapter out as soon as possible, so don't expect to be kept waiting for very long! Thank you :)
-Mima
