"And that's what happened," Yang said. "I...I really messed up, Ruby. I let him get away. I had a chance to stop him, to make him pay for what he did to you, but I was just so angry that I..."

I hit Junior in his pride one too many times, she finished the sentence in her thoughts.

She'd wanted to go after him again when she'd found out what he'd done, march back into that pleasure palace of his and burn it down around his ears for selling her out. But she hadn't had to even work at it to fight that anger down, because it was all her own damned fault.

"I was so angry over what had happened to you that I didn't think. I wanted to hurt someone, I needed to make someone else feel what I'm feeling. Junior was angry at Torchwick and the twins. They'd gotten in his face, snubbed him, and he'd wanted to get back at them for it. Maybe not through the police—he wasn't a snitch—but me, an independent huntress, out for revenge, that would suit him just fine. He actually did give me the name and address, after all.

"But I didn't know a good thing when I had it. I could have asked to see him, talked it out, but I went and broke in instead. That got his goons after me, so I had to fight them, smash up the lounge, start a fire, and bomb the doors to his private apartment. And then, because he was even more of an ass than he usually is when we did talk—and that because I'd given him a half-dozen reasons to be angry at me—he pushed at me, and I pushed back. I should have had the brains to just take it, let him vent a little, get some of his pride back, but no, instead I had to snap back at him, insult him, even pop him one before smashing a window to get out of the club. I couldn't have done more to make sure that he ended up more pissed at me than he was at Torchwick if I'd been trying.

"So that's twice, now. First I couldn't protect you; I let you end up like this when I should have been there to help. And then I go and get on Junior's bad side so instead of helping me get the man who did this to you, he helps him escape. It's my fault, all of it."

There was no answer. Ruby merely lay as she had the entire time, the slight rise and fall of her chest the only indication that she was even alive. It had been over a day, now, and every passing hour made it less and less likely that she would ever wake up again.

Yang squeezed Ruby's hand again, as if by doing so she could somehow transmit strength or will to her, give her the energy to fight this, to shrug off the shock and damage that had been done to her mind. Doctors were only barely beginning to understand how the brain worked, but surely there was some way to heal, wasn't there? Wasn't there?

She wasn't a particularly religious person, but she'd offered prayers in her father's Christianity and her mother's Buddhism alike since entering the room.

A soft tapping at the door momentarily distracted her from her misery.

"Yes?"

The door swung open and Jaune peeked his head around.

"May I come in?"

"Sure. I was just telling Ruby about what happened. Maybe I hoped she'd sit up and smack me for being so stupid."

Jaune took the better part of valor and didn't reply. He slipped into the room and closed the door behind himself.

"I don't think the attendants really wanted to let me in here with you. They kept giving me strange looks, like they're afraid we're going to get into another fight."

Yang sighed.

"If I were them, I'd think the same thing. I've done enough stupid things these past couple of days, so what would one more be?"

"Don't beat yourself up over it. If any of my family was in trouble, I'd probably do the same thing."

She gave him a long, steady look.

"Okay, um, maybe not," he admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "At least, maybe not go off and try to kill them with my own hands. But I would try to bring whomever it was to justice, and I wouldn't let myself get run off the case or give up on it."

"I don't think the police are going to give me that choice, after what I did."

"Actually, that's why I came here. I wanted to let you know that no charges are being pressed."

"After I held two women at gunpoint and had a nasty, furniture-smashing fight with two others?"

"We've arranged to let the Misses Malachite go as well, in exchange for their testimony about Roman Torchwick and his crimes. The fact that they were deliberately waiting in a murder trap for you rather offsets the fact that you beat them to a pulp. Miltia Malachite's nose is never going to be the same."

Yang felt the corner of her mouth quirk up.

"As for the rest of it, you didn't steal anything, you were the one to send for the police, and the phonograph cylinder was still intact and contained Torchwick's confession to being the Phantom, backing up my testimony and Sir Reginald's."

"That's right; he mentioned the 'Seven Oaks job.' But what good does that do? He's left England by now."

"It keeps you out of jail, for one thing. An overzealous bounty huntress chasing a notorious thief can get away with things that an ordinary citizen can't, even though you were still legally in the wrong. And I wouldn't be so sure that Torchwick really has left the country."

"How do you figure that?"

"Hey, don't underestimate the police. We had his description out to rail terminals, the airship ports, and the docks that very first night."

"He wouldn't try anything obvious like that. He'd have a different plan for his escape."

"Like arranging with smugglers to slip out across the Channel? It's possible, but remember, according to his own words, it wasn't until Junior told him about how he'd given you Torchwick's name and address that Torchwick had even planned to leave the country. Even if he had a contingency scheme ready, it takes time to make arrangements. He's smart enough to know we'd be watching for him as well, so he'd be doubly careful not to make any careless moves."

"So you think that he's laying low here in England until he has his escape lined up?"

"Probably right here in London. It would be less conspicuous than, say, a stranger arriving in a Cornish fishing village, and he would also run the risk of being spotted by the police at the train station."

"That isn't a bad point," Yang admitted. "You're actually pretty good at this detective business."

"Thanks. I just wish that I had any kind of clue about where his bolthole actually is, or when and how he'll eventually come out of it."

"Melanie and Miltia—"

Jaune shook his head.

"They didn't know anything about it."

"And you just believed them? They might have promised to testify against Torchwick in exchange for not being charged with the theft, but they're not exactly the type to just freely cooperate."

"I know. They're the kind of people who consider 'police' to be an obscene word. They might hold something back just to be contrary, or to convince themselves they aren't really giving in to us."

"Then how can you know any of it's the truth?"

"I played them the phonograph cylinder that Torchwick left for you."

"Ohhh. Yeah, I bet that did it."

"They'd thought Torchwick was setting you up, baiting you into their ambush, then leaving a message to laugh in your face. Once they heard what he really had to say, they were a lot more willing to cooperate. Especially since they had not just one boss but two, Junior and Torchwick both, who were leaving them to your tender mercies."

"Though in all fairness," Yang pointed out, "I'm sure that Torchwick would have been more than happy if the Malachites had been able to kill me, so long as I hurt them enough to get Junior off of his back."

"I doubt that argument would have made them any happier about it."

"No, probably not. And it does make sense that they wouldn't know where he was going. Why tell your secrets to someone that you know that you're going to betray?"

"That would be pretty stupid, and Torchwick isn't a fool, whatever else he might be."

"So what do you know?"

Jaune dug out his notebook.

"Well, there were two servants who vanished along with Torchwick, a groom and a driver. Torchwick left the house by carriage. I took the description of both men and we're looking for them. Apparently those two servants actually worked for him in his criminal enterprises, not just his household. We've also been looking through the house for any records, and checking with Torchwick's bank, his man of affairs, the land records, and so on in search of any clue as to where he might have gone."

"You know, that's a lot of people doing a lot of police work on this case, Jaune. Whatever happened to your superiors not taking you seriously?"

"That changed after the theft of the ruby. Sir Reginald was beside himself after its loss. His voice still carries some weight. And Torchwick's moves into violence"—he couldn't resist letting his gaze rest on Ruby as he said it—"also made the Yard start taking it seriously. I was actually afraid they would take the case away from me, now that it wasn't just an eccentric playing games."

"Why didn't they?"

Jaune winced, making Yang aware that she could have phrased her question in such a way that it didn't sound like her natural assumption was that the Yard would give the case to someone else once it was proven important.

"They probably would have, but luckily for me, it was my network of informants—"

"So now I'm a whole network?" Yang quipped.

"It only takes one if she points you in the right direction."

"Maybe if I'd told you right away, Torchwick wouldn't have gotten away. Think how surprised he'd have been if, while he was planning his trap for me, and recording his smug little message, a dozen policemen surrounded the house and dragged him off. But instead, he was perfectly right about me. He knew I'd come for him myself." She looked up at Jaune, then said, "I screwed up, and then I got so angry over it, so desperate to...God, I don't even know, now. Maybe it was just the only way I could keep going, not have to face this."

She reached out and brushed the back of her fingers along Ruby's cheek. Sensation novels talked about 'brain fever,' but Ruby's skin was cool to the touch. Yang thought that was a good sign; she'd have expected her to be warm if something was going wrong. But then, what did she know? It might have just as easily been a sign that all was not the way it ought to be, like Ruby's body temperature was falling as she slipped nearer to—

No!

She reeled away from completing the thought, then forced herself to stop and confront it again. The truth was the truth; they didn't know what was going to happen to Ruby.

"If it wasn't for you," Jaune pointed out, "we wouldn't even have Torchwick's name. We both know that Junior would never have given that information to the police, no matter how angry he was with Torchwick or the Malachites."

Yang didn't turn back to him this time, but kept looking at Ruby instead.

"That's true, yes, but it doesn't mean that I didn't promptly ruin the entire thing."

"Maybe. Or maybe he never gives you the information in the first place if you're not that angry. He's not what you call a nice man, and maybe the only reason he told you is that he was impressed enough by what you'd done that he thought you would save him the trouble of getting revenge on his own. Or maybe he was scared of you—"

"Not without a fight, he wouldn't be. He's got too much pride in being a tough guy to be afraid of anyone without getting his butt fed to him."

Her correction didn't stop Jaune, though, who seemed bound and determined to paint her mistake as less than it was.

"If you say so. But my point stands. For all we know, the things you did that made Junior sell you out were the same things you had to do to get Torchwick's name and address in the first place."

Yang didn't believe it. Jaune was trying to make her feel better, but his attempts couldn't change the facts. Truth be told, it made her almost feel more guilty that he was trying so hard, being a good friend, because of how badly she'd treated him throughout: not helping him in the first place, coming within a hair of beating him senseless in misplaced anger in the hospital corridor, and holding back the information she'd gotten from Junior so she could try to take her private revenge.

"I know what you're trying to do, Jaune, and it's sweet, really, but I don't need you to lie to me right now. Not when Ruby is like this. I've made enough excuses."

Again, she reached out and brushed her fingers over Ruby's cheek, only to snatch her hand back as if it had been burned.

"Yang, what is it?"

"I thought I felt her cheek twitch. There, just below her eye."

Jaune came over next to her at once, looking down at the tiny form of the sleeping girl.

Twitch.

Yang sucked in air. The exhalation caught in her throat; she felt her heart pounding frantically.

"I see it!" Jaune gasped. "Her eyes!"

Twitch.

And indeed, her eyes were moving, the eyelashes trembling as the lids vibrated. It wasn't even a flutter, she couldn't even call it that much, but it was motion, real, genuine motion of something other than just her breathing and heartbeat.

"Ruby," Yang said. "Ruby, can you hear me?" Her hand started to reach out, instinctively wanting to shake Ruby the rest of the way awake, like it was early morning and her sister had just overslept. She realized that was just a fancy, though, and held herself back for fear of hurting her.

Her eyelids twitched again, and this time it genuinely was a flutter, enough of a motion that they could see the glint of the eye itself behind the lashes. A groan, weak and thin but still a sound, still something, slipped between lips that barely trembled to release it. Jaune's hand clamped down on Yang's shoulder, the fingers digging in; it seemed that he was almost as on edge as she was.

And why not? Ruby is his friend and he...I'm sure that he feels as bad about what happened as I did.

That he'd never been capable of protecting her in the first place didn't mean that he didn't feel the sting because he'd failed to do so. She'd seen the guilt and the misery on his face that first night.

"Uhhhhngh," Ruby groaned, more loudly this time. "W-what happened?"

Her eyes opened, then blinked, squinting against the light.

"Ruby!" Yang squealed, and launched herself at the bed. Her arms circled around Ruby's shoulders, actually trembling a bit from the effort it took to not squeeze down joyously in a crushing hug. "You're all right!"

"Yang?" Ruby murmured dully. "Izzat you?"

"It's me. I'm here, Ruby."

"What happened?" Ruby repeated. "Where'm I?"

"You're in the hospital."

Ruby's eyes widened.

"The hospital?"

She made a feeble attempt to move and the buckles of the slings holding her arm and leg rattled.

"What happened?" she insisted for the third time. "The last thing I remember, I was fighting the Phantom Gentleman on the roof of Seven Oaks, he pointed his cane at me—did you know it was a gun? That's so neat! I tried to get out of the way, and...and..." Her eyebrows shot up. "I don't remember what happened after that! Did he shoot me?"

"No, he missed," Jaune said. "But the roof was all rotted and you fell."

"Wow, I don't remember any of that. But why don't I remember anything else, either? Is this amnesia, like in a gothic novel?" She looked back and forth from Yang to Jaune. "Is that why my head hurts?"

"You'd better be the one to tell her," Yang told the young policeman. "You heard it right from the doctor, so that's one less person to get things lost in translation. I'm going to get someone and let them know that Ruby woke up, so if the doctors need to do something—"

"Woke up? Yang, what are you talking about?"

"Listen, Ruby, I want you to pay attention," Jaune began, as Yang got up and headed for the door.

For the first time in two days, the smile that stretched from ear to ear wasn't faked, or wistful, or at anyone's expense. Ruby was awake, and Yang's heart was singing.

She got out into the corridor, shut the door behind her, and even got two steps towards the duty nurse's station before she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Woohoo!" she shouted, and didn't care one bit that four people in the hall gave her shocked and reproachful looks.

~X X X~

A/N: For the curious, the words "gramophone" and "phonograph" were interchangeable in that era. (For an example, please see the original Dracula, in which Dr. Seward's diary was kept on phonograph, and recorded onto cylinders rather than discs.)