Arc 2 - Chapter 10 - What To Fight Pain With
It was an ocean of confusion, this new world Ruby had found herself in. It overflowed with waves of disharmonious sounds — the chirp of machines she didn't understand the use of, the crackling of papers from the doctor's clipboard, the dull hum of fluorescent lights. Blurry images shifted around her, abstract dashes of paint made from the constant moving of people around her. Almost unreal. Close to a dream. Voices were muted and muffled, yet somehow loud and oppressive, creating a discordant echo chamber that seemed to constrict around her, making her feel small and weak and helpless. A mere observer to this insanity. Maybe she would be a part of it soon. Today might be the day the tape and staples and glue she'd used to patch her world together finally came undone.
Ruby stared at her uncle, laying still in the hospital bed, having not moved or twitched or shown any sign of life since they'd arrived. They'd wrapped in a thick nestling of blankets to fight the hypothermia, merely one of the many symptoms he had suffered upon his collapse. One that, she kept thinking, might have been easily prevented.
Would the bartender go to jail for this? That was one of the many thoughts going through her head. Whoever he was, he'd probably been too greedy to cut Qrow off. As the story went, that's when it had all gone wrong. Alcohol poisoning. Ruby had likened the stuff to poison many times before, but had never once thought it was actually possible. The gods were laughing at her now. Qrow had been taken by a seizure, had fallen out of his chair without anyone there to catch him. There was enough evidence to support it. A thick bandage was wrapped around his head, pinpricks of dark blood stained the gauze.
"How is he?" came a deep voice that sounded a lot like her dad's. "When will he wake up?"
"That's not something we can be sure of, sir. He's suffered a serious head injury."
"From off a chair. I don't understand. How could he fall that hard out of a chair?"
"I'm afraid you don't need to fall very hard or very far to cause serious and even permanent brain damage, especially during a seizure. There's no telling how it could turn out. He could sleep for days. Weeks. Longer." There was a pause, though it was barely in silence, since the heart monitor had not stopped its cruel chirping. "I'm afraid we cannot even guarantee if he will even wake at all."
"No…"
Qrow's face had taken on a blue, blue and pale and sallow, as though a vampire had put its teeth to his head and sucked the blood straight from his brain. He did not move in any way. No twist of his mouth or nose, no flutter of eyelashes, no creasing of brows. Just flat and still, like a plank of wood, like a blank portrait, like a body missing its soul. Nothing more than nothing. Ruby almost couldn't believe it was him. Entertained the idea that this was some elaborate joke. The stupid doctor would pull off his face and reveal Qrow underneath and he'd burst into laughter any minute now. But the minutes stretched on and no such thing happened.
"I suggest you all get some rest and come back tomorrow. We'll have staff checking on him by the hour and his vitals are under constant monitor. If anything happens, you'll be the first to know." said the Doctor.
Ruby felt someone touch her arm, gently, like they thought she was made of glass. "Come on, honey. We have to go."
He looked dead, there on that clean white bed. As dead as a person could look. Ruby remembered grandma had looked the same way years back, in the casket all wrinkled and old, but seemingly just asleep. Then they closed the casket and the days and weeks and months passed, with the realization that her long sleep would continue forever. Might not wake up, that's what the doctor said. Only did he realize what those words meant? Did that dumb doctor understand what it meant to never wake up?
"Sweetie," A stronger grip took her hand and began to pull her away. Ruby's feet scraped behind her, staring back at her uncle as he slowly receded away. Then the heavy door of his room was pulled shut and he was gone. Hardly mattered, a sight like that could not be forgotten. Her uncle's near dead body, cold and on the verge of death, was in front of her at all times.
Might not wake up.
No one said anything on the ride home. Just the emotionless drone of the engine and the outside noise of a million things going on.
May never wake up.
Ruby didn't know when she'd exited the car. Didn't even know when they'd pulled into the driveway. She was in the house before she knew it, though, and her tired feet climbed the stairs, her hand hissing up the handrail. Someone called for her, but she ignored them. Didn't care what anyone had to say. Needed to be alone.
Never wake up.
Ruby locked the door to her room, then was sitting on her bed then, staring at her wall, staring at nothing. Simply staring. Her half-dead uncle was always in front of her.
Would never speak. Never see. Never think. Lucky even to dream.
There was a crash downstairs, glass breaking, and a terrifying roar. Dad or Yang? Didn't matter. Ruby's hands rested in her lap, too weak even to move, her entire body both stiff and relaxed at the same time, perpetually undecided. She needed to pee, and that was annoying. Seemed even her own body could not be bothered to change its routines in the wake of all this. Proof that absolutely nothing mattered.
Never wake up. Never talk to him again. And whose fault was it? Qrow's, plain and simple. Ruby did not understand him even now. How could someone be so obsessed with a drink that didn't even taste good to such a degree that it destroyed their health? Is that what addiction was? To know something could kill you and yet be unable to resist? On top of that, how could too much of a drink almost kill a person? How could it possibly put them in a coma? Did that doctor even know how stupid that sounded? One would think that after killing your best friend by accident, you would think twice about having another drink again. His addiction had put his best friend in the ground.
And it seemed Uncle Qrow was intent on joining her.
Ruby truly did not understand any of it, but instead of it making her sad or angry like usual… instead, she began to chuckle.
It started small, just little tickles in her dry throat. Then stronger, bubbling giggles seeping out like water from a cracked faucet. And that wasn't the only part of her leaking, either. The tears were hot as fire on her face, heated by a devil of pure fury festering in her broken heart. Boiling, hissing, overflowing. More crashing downstairs, another wail. Definitely Yang. Probably destroying the whole house down there. They might as well. This place had not been their home for a very long time.
Cold. Ruby was shivering cold, despite being in a sweater. Air conditioning wasn't even on and the night was warm. Freezing though, and getting colder. Would someone hold her? Anyone? Pointless. Nothing could help. There was no way to stop the pain. You could only do a worse pain to drown it out.
Ruby looked at her drawer. She could almost see the tool of her release through the wood, buried under folded underwear. Ruby pulled the drawer open, dug under the clothes, closed her fingers around a plastic handle. The feeling was disturbingly familiar. Felt like home. She pulled it out, now sat on her knees there in front of her drawer.
She held it in both hands now, her hands trembling like the thing was alive and trying to escape her grip. Couldn't let go. It had to be used now.
Never wake up.
Never wake up.
Never again.
As good as dead.
She flipped the notch, and the serrated blade sprung from the grip with a snap. It sent a cold tingling through her, a cruel surge up her back. The blade was dirty, crusted with brown at the edges. She hadn't cleaned it after the last use. Didn't matter. Her wrist ached in tune with her battering heartbeat. The veins in her wrist seemed to beg and protest both for her to do it and to not. Nothing mattered.
Ruby's dear uncle might not wake up.
If she fell asleep tonight, Ruby prayed that she wouldn't wake up, either.
She did not look as she put the blade to work. Her dead eyes simply stared forward, at the wooden dresser, at the image of her hospitalized uncle conjured before her. The tears drowned her vision, obscuring everything behind an opaque curtain. She hissed as she felt a sting, like the slow inserting of a needle into her arm. First breaking skin, then flesh, then more, deeper, hurting and hurting and hurting like nothing she'd ever felt. Ruby whimpered, wanting to stop, but it was like her body was under someone else's control. Never wake up. The blade cut harder, teeth sawing into flesh. Never wake up. Something warm and wet ran down her hand, over the knuckles, down the palms, dripped off her fingers.
All was quiet, and while she had locked the door herself, she felt trapped in that room regardless. Her only sanctuary in this house which had once been her home. Ruby gave up. This family was beyond saving. Her chest felt hot, like a fire was alive inside her, which instead of giving her strength, sapped her of it.
Was there any hope? Would someone please come and hold her? Was there anyone out there?
"Help," Ruby sobbed, "Help…"
No one heard her.
When Jaune had decided, perhaps against his better judgment, to become a Heart Hunter, he'd somehow supposed he'd be going at it on his own. A singular venture. A lone fighter. He certainly hadn't expected more cooperation, at least beyond Aunt Peach. With Neptune now before him, having been enlightened to the existence of hunters, hearts, and Grimm, he now realized his error.
Now, he simply sat on his bed, arm still in the cast after his short stay in the hospital. Neptune sat beside him in silence, neither of them knowing quite what to say. Jaune imagined his head might still be spinning, what with the suddenness of this new awakening. Jaune couldn't say he blamed him. Even past the point of outright bewilderment, he still wondered at times if this had all simply been a long and detailed dream. He'd heard of people living whole entire lives in dreams before. Who was to say someone couldn't live an entire life in a Heart World? Jaune chuckled at the idea.
"Something funny?" asked Neptune.
Jaune scrambled for a lie. "Sort of. Just all this. Still can't believe it."
"You can't? You've been at this longer than me."
"A few weeks. Not a lot of time. It was supposed to be months before I got my first assignment."
"Assignment?" Neptune frowned. "I was an assignment?"
"You know what I mean."
"No, Jaune. I really freaking don't. Diving into hearts?" Neptune shook his head as if the idea was completely impossible. As if it should remain impossible. Fantasy and reality were bound to never interact in his mind. "Monsters? Hunters? This is all… it's all just insane!"
Jaune nodded. "But real."
"Real, yeah." Neptune chuckled, still shaking his head. "And you… you were inside me?"
"You literally could have phrased that any other way," Jaune sighed. "But yeah."
"I'm not joking, Jaune." Neptune rounded on him, his frown no longer made of pure annoyance, but a sense of hurt and confusion, like Jaune had told a secret that was meant to never come out. "You were in my heart, right?"
"I was."
"You fight that other me. That alternate thing, and you beat it. And that's… that's what made me stand up to my dad?"
Jaune took a moment to think about how to put it, not even sure of the truth himself. Had his actions in the Heart World given Neptune the courage, or had it all simply been a kind of coincidental harmonization of events? How much of it was Neptune's own decision as compared to Jaune quite literally interfering with the state of his soul? "I fight the Alter to save it from Despair, that's all. I just keep it from making you…" Jaune wasn't really sure what would happen if someone fell to the Despair. "I keep it from hurting you. When you stood up to your dad, that had nothing to do with me."
"So, why did you do it?"
"Why did I do what?"
"Why'd you help me? You risked your life. My Alter thing almost killed you. Weren't you scared?"
Of fighting? Of dying? Jaune couldn't really say if he did or not. The idea of death was somewhat concerning, but that was about as far as it went for him. So he chose to answer with a lie. "Yeah, I was. But I owed you, and I don't like sitting on debts."
"Bullshit!" Neptune stood up, glaring down at Jaune with misty eyes. Jaune blinked at him with surprise. "You think I believe that? If I wasn't an assignment, then you must have chosen to help me. Stop your lying, man and be straight with me. You could have left me alone. You could have minded your business and not gotten almost killed because of me. Why did you get involved with me, with my family, with my heart? Why?"
Jaune swallowed, finding it strangely hard to look up into Neptune's eyes, now filled with angry resolve. He wished he could tell him the truth of it, to tell him the things he truly felt deep inside, but his walls were still up. He could never let anyone in. Never. Still, that look of his, that betrayed, confused look which demanded honesty, or a compromise of some kind. It couldn't hurt to meet him in the middle in some way. It was the least Neptune deserved.
"My mom taught me, when you see someone in trouble, you help them. Not for reward and not for glory or praise. You help them because it's right." Jaune shrugged. "And you were in trouble. I guess, to me, it's not that different from the first day we met when I fought Cardin."
Neptune kicked Jaune's bedframe hard, shaking the whole structure and sending a scared jolt up Jaune's back, forcing him to silent attention. "Except you almost got killed, don't you get it?" He was heaving now, a quiver in his voice. "You almost died. I couldn't have been worth you losing your life, Jaune."
Jaune simply stared back at him, unable to offer a response.
Neptune's eyes had grown wet. "Why would you go so far? You couldn't have been okay with dying for me!"
Jaune looked ahead, at his turned off TV, not looking at anything in particular. "When you see someone in trouble, you help them. That's what my mom taught me. Not for glory or rewards and not for praise. You do it because it's right."
Neptune sat back down, closer to Jaune now, whispering, "Even if it gets you killed?"
"If that's what it takes."
Jaune didn't even try to deny it. Especially since Neptune most likely wouldn't believe him. He did not fear dying or death in general, not for himself anyway. If the world took him now, he might have regrets, but none which would plague him. He was not suicidal, as far as he knew. Not ready to die, like a person who knew his time was close. He had not fought the Alter intending to die. But if he had, well, then that would be how things turned out.
"You're insane, man." said Neptune.
"No, I'm just a normal guy."
Neptune then came closer, and Jaune leaned slightly away out of fear. Fear of what, he wasn't sure. Then Neptune was closer. His arms had spread, reached over, then folded him into a tight embrace. Strong as a bear, warmer than summer, squeezing him as close as he could get away with.
Awkwardly, Jaune patted Neptune's shoulder. "Alright. Okay. you can let me go now."
"No." answered Neptune defiantly.
"Please, let go."
Neptune shook his head, and Jaune felt their cheeks rub together, leaving some tears on his own cheek. Jaune felt his lip tremble, though whether it was out of annoyance or some more obscure feeling was hard to place. He wanted Neptune off of him, but he wasn't willing to push him away to do it. He hated being hugged. He loathed it against all reason. It caused things to happen to him. It made his body react in ways he did not like. Such as now, as he began to feel tears prick at his eyes, despite his greatest efforts.
"Thank you." Neptune wept. "I don't really know what else I can say. Just thank you."
Jaune swallowed his heart, trying to quell a sudden wave of emotion. This was what happened when people hugged him. He felt all manner of things that he had tried all these years to shut out. He heard himself sniffle and it couldn't have been more humiliating if he was ass naked in public. "Let go." he said, voice quivering.
Neptune did not let him go, though. Instead squeezed him harder, as if to call Jaune's bluff.
"Let go," Jaune started to beg. All the way up until his words were garbled, his mind was empty, and he had dropped his face into Neptune's shoulder, closing his own arms around him. Just for something to hold on to.
He certainly did not need the hug. This was for Neptune's benefit.
Definitely.
Why was he thinking about that now of all times? Jaune's mind had been to a lot of places lately, and none of them were very exciting to wonder about. He laid there in bed, using his arm as a pillow, listening to the ocean wave sounds on his TV in an attempt to get some sleep. Normally, it'd put him down in minutes. But after that conversation with Taiyang several hours ago, his thoughts had stuck to him like glue and refused to fade into the back of his mind like usual.
Why had he said those things? The point was the probe for information. Not to get himself so emotionally worked up, so mentally drained. Now, he was spending every moment regretting it. That, and hoping some good came of his actions. Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it wasn't his problem anymore. It was time to get on with life.
Jaune pulled his phone, ready to finally get back to Mystery. To the one and only thing in this world he could call a friendship. Only for the screen to shift as a call came through. Yang. What the hell could she be calling him for this late?
With a bit of caution he answered.
"Yang?" he said hoarsely. "What is it?"
Jaune hadn't expected to return to Ruby's house twice in the same day. He hadn't expected to return at all, given the likelihood in him simply moving on to a different mark. Fate loved to play its tricks. It was dark outside now, cold, quiet, and empty. The house was an altogether different creature. No longer typical and oriented with life, but rather the opposite. Buried in shadows and weak moonlight obscured by black clouds. Ominous feeling, despite the fact that he knew quite well what awaited him behind the house's walls. But he was here now, and in fitting with his last visit, there was no turning back.
He climbed the steps and made ready to knock, but the door swung right open before he could raise his fist, and Yang waited on the other side. She was in little else but a square neck shirt and black boxer shorts. In any other case, this might have been either embarrassing or hilarious, but this was not the time for either. She'd been crying, evidently, and after what she'd caught him up on, he did not blame her in the slightest.
"She's upstairs." Yang said, wasting no time pulling him inside. "I've tried, but she won't answer the door."
Jaune failed to see how his appearance might help with that, but hadn't said so. He'd simply come, without even the slightest argument, like a dog to the command of the master. Perhaps that should have dug at his pride a little, but not this time. He followed Yang upstairs, into the short half-lit hallway with doors on both sides. It reminded him of his home a little—all the oldest on one side, all the youngest on the other, the twins paired together, his room on the far end of the right side. Everyone was color coded too, and he remembered the day they'd all painted their doors, it all ending up with a big paint throwing fight. Seemed a far away memory now.
Yang was probably not enjoying a fond memory in light of today's event, or perhaps she was, in some attempt to escape it all. He watched her wipe her face, sniffling and visibly trying to pull herself together. He knew the feeling all too well. Wanting to not look weak in front of anyone besides family. When she finally did speak, her voice was low and desperate. "Do you think you can get her to come out?"
Jaune shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to at least look calm. "I'll do what I can. I don't know why she'd listen to me, though."
Yang held his eye for a moment, her eyes teary, yet it was like she was looking at him with pure disbelief, as wondering why he was not on the same page as her and indeed the rest of the world. "You really are fucking dense, aren't you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing just… Please get her out of her room, okay? Please, Jaune."
She was hard to refuse, damn her. Especially while trying not to cry. He was beginning to think he liked Yang more when he couldn't sympathize with her. Wasn't that some twisted justice? Jaune only nodded, feeling no words needed to be uttered. He was here to do as he was bid.
Yang made to step around him, then stopped and faced him once more. "Why you?" she asked.
"Why me?"
"You just… get involved with things. I get now why you even cared about this shit with me and Sun. You didn't. You knew what was going on with Ruby and our family, or at least thought something was wrong. And you just had to find out why. Is that it?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't care about any of that."
Yang stepped forward. "Bullshit. You're lying."
Jaune tensed. "How would you know?"
"Because why the hell would you be here, then? Lie to me about whatever you want, but not my family."
Jaune pursed his lips, but there was no point in dancing around the truth anymore. Honesty, then. Or at least some of it. "I just have a way to live, that's all. You see someone in trouble, you help them. That's what I was taught."
"What? So you're trying to become everyone's hero?"
"I'm just a normal guy. Nothing I'm doing is special."
Yang watched him for a moment, then stepped around him, saying as she descended the stairs, "You're so wrong, Jaune. You're so wrong that I don't think I can punch you out of it."
Jaune thought about that for a moment, listening to her footsteps until she vanished downstairs. Heard some muffled talking in the living room, likely Yang having held back her dad to keep him from coming up. How she'd done so, he couldn't guess, but it made him think of the times he'd keep his sisters apart whenever there'd been a particularly bad fight. He'd always been the mediator. The peacemaker. Listen to the frustrations of one, then the other, then have them talk it out. It was what brothers did, he supposed.
He didn't think he could come at this current problem from that angle, though.
Jaune went to Ruby's door down the way, which wasn't hard to figure out since they had names on them. The hangar had a red cloak hanging off it, looking untouched for a long time. And what looked to be painting imprints of hands with age numbers next to them. He was strangely calm at this point, despite the news that was brought to him. Maybe that had been because he'd had time to process it on his long bus ride here or maybe he simply didn't care. He liked to think it was not the latter.
Either way, he raised his fist to knock, then thought about it. Ruby was probably sick of hearing her door being knocked on. Jaune knew he would be. So, he simply rested his palm on the wood, as if that might somehow enhance his chances of getting it open. "Ruby," he said.
No answer.
"At least let me know you're in there. However you can."
Nothing for a while, until he heard a brief sniffle. Probably crying. Who wouldn't after finding out what she had? Her uncle hospitalized in serious condition and with no guarantee of recovery. Jaune shuddered to think of how he'd react if his dad ended up like that. What remained of his tattered mind might just perish right along with him. Maybe Ruby felt the same way. Some people couldn't get over the death of one loved one. Losing more might just break them.
"Yang called me, though I guess that's pretty obvious. Said you weren't answering your door. Can't say I blame you… for not wanting to talk. That's how I felt when…" No, this wasn't about him, it was about her. Why did his own problems always come up around this damn family? "That's how I feel, sometimes. I'm not sure what I'm here for. Yang's just told me to get over here. Guess she thinks we should talk. Maybe I can help. Maybe."
Those certainly weren't the words of someone meant to be consoling a peer. But Jaune wasn't used to being so direct. He couldn't say those stupid stock things that people always said. I'm here for you. Whatever you need. I'm sorry for your loss. Things you said when you had nothing to say but had not the self-awareness to shut up. Those sayings didn't feel right. He much preferred to do things, though presently, there wasn't much he could do from behind the door.
Jaune ventured forth, tried to be, in some way, a little more affectionate. In his own way. "I came to help, if I can. Remember what I told you before? I've always got an open ear. I meant it that day, in case you didn't believe me. You can talk to me, Ruby. Anytime. Now, if you want."
Silence.
Jaune closed his eyes, letting out a silent breath that Ruby couldn't hear. He didn't want her to think he might be getting frustrated with her. In his worst moments, he would hear that from his sisters who had only done their best to help him, but found his endless whining to be irritating. Maybe neither side was wrong, but feelings unfortunately did not adhere to morals or logic. You could not control how you felt about things. Not ever.
Jaune eased down beside Ruby's door, pressing his back against the wall. "I'm staying the night, in case you're wondering. I'll wait for as long as it takes. I won't even bother you if you do come out and just ignore me. But I will be here, so you'd better get used to it."
And Jaune was set on doing just that, would have if he hadn't heard the padding of feet from beyond the door. He stood as the door lock clicked, as the door creaked noisily open.
Jaune did not fear death. It was not even close to the worst thing that could happen to a person. The image he saw before him was proof of that.
The wrist of Ruby's right arm was covered in red cuts. Ones that hadn't been there before, but he only realized then that Ruby exclusively wore long-sleeved shirts, while being perfectly fine with thigh-length skirts. He knew now why. None of them were particularly deep, but that was compensated for with numbers. Each mark pricked with blood like the flesh inside was trying to push it out and the gaps were too thin to flow easily. The culprit of the wounds, a small switchblade, was gripped tight in her other trembling hand. To see that horror attached to a person so kind, so innocent. It was jolting. Revolting even, that the gods could allow it.
That was the horror of reality though—the happiest people could be carrying the deepest wounds and you'd be none the wiser.
Ruby stared up at him, her face dry of tears, but her eyes puffy and red, and wide with permanent shock like she was seeing the world for the awfulness that it was. She let out a soft, almost inaudible plea. "Help."
"What?"
"Help me…" The tears came on again. She stood there, shaking like she was naked in winter, looking like she might pitch over and faint at any moment.
What was he doing? Wasn't he meant to do something? But what? And how? This was not something he could punch, or even exchange an accidental heart-to-heart with. What could he do? How did he fight something like this?
"Help…" Ruby begged, but it may as well have been a command. One he could not, would not, resist.
He chose to do it. There was no hiding behind lies or false beliefs or willful ignorance. Jaune had broken the distance between him and Ruby, a girl who he certainly did not care about… and he folded her into his arms. He held her gently and he held her with all his strength. Even as her legs gave out, he did not let her fall, instead easing them both to the floor so she could not hurt herself anymore, cradling her against him. He took the blade out of her hand, then tossed it away, heard it bounce down the hall and clatter down the stairs. He prayed it did not stop there, just kept rolling away into the far distance where it could no longer be used to harm anyone.
He felt Ruby clutch at his shirt as she wept, such strength that the back of his collar dug painfully into his neck. She'd buried her face in his shoulder, and had started to scream into his shoulder without restraint. The sound of her. Guttural, blood-curdling, gut-wrenching. He felt it in his skin, in his flesh, in his bones, deeper even. He was shaking himself now, be it from holding her so tightly or from listening to her sobs, knowing he was powerless to stop them.
He did not try to shush her or rock her. He did not offer consoling words. He didn't try to make her feel better. No such thing. There was no guarantee that things would be better, and the future could not be any less sure, now with her uncle bedridden and at the mercy of luck. Things could very well get worse. Perhaps, if it came to that, he would just have to hold her like this again.
When someone was in trouble, you helped them. That was how he was raised. You helped them because it was right.
Jaune did not care about doing the right thing. Not really. He'd stolen before, lied, cheated on tests, done things he was not proud of. Life went on and guilt came in degrees. He rested his cheek on top of Ruby's head, drew her even closer, listened to her weeping fully and completely and accepted it all, no matter how much it reminded him of his own in the loneliness of his room back home. He did not hug Ruby because it was the right thing to do.
Quite simply, there was nothing that hurt him more than to see a friend cry.
Hope yall enjoyed the chapter. See you in the next one.
ISA