There was a sudden explosion beyond the oppressively quiet room. Painfully familiar voice yelled and cursed. It was with some apprehension she walked to the door, horribly suspicious that she already knew what lay beyond.
Gordon sat upon John, screaming and shouting, laying into his brother. The rapid succession of hits aimed at his face and shoulders left the ginger with little to do other than attempt to protect himself. The previous black eye and bruised lip were being quickly added to as blood tracked down from the probably broken nose.
'Enough!' she bellowed. 'Gordon Cooper Tracy, get up and explain.'
At first he didn't seem to hear her, and she had to step forward, tugging on the man's neon shirt, physically pulling him away from John, but she didn't have to speak again as he screamed, tears in eyes and pointing with blooded knuckles.
'That fucking bastard killed Virgil!'
Another time, another place, she would have scolded him for the language, for the fight, but the words gave her pause.
'What?'
'He killed Virgil. He took the adrenaline from the medbay and killed our brother!'
No... That wasn't right, that couldn't be right. She turned and looked to the middle child, and her heart sank as she laid eyes on the man that stood there. She didn't know what to believe, not really; perhaps she refused to accept what was in front of her, but the anger that bristled from John was wrong.
It wasn't regret for his actions, or remorse of realisation, or even the justified anger of having have Gordon lay into him. It was fury at having been discovered before he was ready, that his plan had been uncovered too soon.
Ruth held onto Gordon, not for fear of him flying off again, but for fear she'd collapse, much like everything she knew, or thought she knew.
'It wasn't meant to happen like this.'He wiped the blood from his face and cradled his damaged nose.
'But it was supposed to happen?' Gordon barked.
John sneered, lip curling back as he eyed the smaller man.
'Yes.'
And Gordon was off again, and Ruth didn't much care.