Darkness, Take my Hand

by Ruby Gallagher

January 1902

Soon. One word. Four letters. So completely and utterly mundane. Innocuous. Not the least bit threatening, unless it was the only word on a tiny scrap of paper tucked in with a bouquet of white roses. For a brief shining moment, she’d been happy: flowers, probably from Reese, or from any number of admirers, then the prickle of unease had darted down her spine. She’d only been five when her papa died, but she could still remember placing the white blossom on the plain pine casket before it was lowered into the Pennsylvania earth. White was for funerals, her mother had said, weeping bitterly. Red roses for love, yellow for infidelity, white for death. The message wasn’t lost on her, and the full meaning of it hit her like a runaway train. She supposed she should have known. Deep down, she had. She’d known all along. From the moment she’d seen him that dark evening in Queens, she’d known in her heart, but she’d managed to convince herself that it had been a trick of the shadows, her imagination, not really him, never really him. Even after Four Eyes had admitted he’d seen him, she’d still tried to convince herself it wasn’t true, everything was all right; if she just didn’t think about it, everything would be all right, it wouldn’t be true. But there was no denying the evidence before her now, the hideously familiar handwriting, the twisted sense of humor behind the mocking gesture. It was Luke. He was alive. The note was a warning, a portent. Death was coming. And it was coming soon.

Mid December, 1901

It had started on a frosty winter evening a few weeks before Christmas, on a street corner in Queens. She’d been on her way home from visiting Faith when she’d felt a tingle between her shoulder blades, like eyes on the back of her neck. It was a feeling she’d once been used to, now it felt unfamiliar and threatening. Turning slowly, she looked back up the street, seeing no one there that she knew, just the usual traffic of people hurrying home in the growing twilight. She turned back to head for Harlem, and froze.

He was standing on the opposite side of the street, lounging in a doorway. She probably wouldn’t even have noticed him there in the shadows if it hadn’t been for the glowing end of a lit cigarette. It had to be a ghost, a hallucination, a figment of her imagination, a mistake, but no, a hand lifted to the cruel mouth she remembered too well, and he blew her a mocking kiss. Ruby didn’t wait to see what he would do next, she turned tail and bolted in terror for home, not stopping until she was safe in the bunkroom, gasping hysterically and babbling incoherently.

It’s impossible, he’s dead, I killed him, he can’t be alive, he’s dead, no one gets up and walks away from a knife in the neck, but that was him, oh God, oh God –

“Ruby, calm down and tell us what you saw.” That was Verity, almost as calm and unflappable as Faith, sitting her down on a bunk and trying to make some sense of the tears and fractured sentences.

Ruby looked up at the girls gathered around her, concern evident on every face, except maybe for Fingers’, who was just scowling, but that constituted concern, coming from her. Struggling to catch her breath, Ruby whispered, “’e’s dead, I killed ‘im. ‘E can’t be walkin’ around Queens!”

Imp’s eyes grew very big, and she looked nervously at Verity, who was frowning deeply.

“Ya mean Forlani?” Fingers demanded harshly, and Ruby flinched away from the hated name.

“But ‘e’s - ” Imp began, and closed her mouth with a snap.

“He’s alive, I saw ‘im, ‘e blew me a kiss!” Ruby shrieked, hysteria overflowing.

“Ruby, calm down,” Verity rubbed the younger girl’s back comfortingly. “Are you sure?”

“A’ coise I’m shoah!” she burst into tears.

Fingers gave an unpleasant sounding growl and stalked from the room, leaving the others to comfort Ruby. “I’m sure it was someone else, and you just thought you saw him,” Verity suggested gently.

Ruby nodded, almost too eagerly accepting this argument, slam dunking the horrific possibilities firmly back into her subconscious. “Right. Of course. It had ta be. Luke’s dead. No one gets up and walks away from a knife in the neck, now do they?”

Christmas Eve, 1901

The Bronx Newsboys’ Lodging House was silent and nearly deserted as Ruby approached it. No one answered her knock, so she tried the door and found it unlocked. She entered to find the lobby empty save for a fat tabby cat sprawled across the bottom step of the staircase.

“Heah kitty kitty,” Ruby smiled and held her hand out to pet the creature, but its tail blew up like a bottlebrush and it hissed at her, ears flat against its head. She jumped back to avoid being scratched before it went streaking past her into the darkness. Charming animal, truly. And a bah humbug to you too! Shrugging to herself, she gathered up her skirts and started up the steps.

A single light was shining out of the boys’ bunkroom, illuminating a lone figure sitting on a bunk, playing a game of solitaire with a ragged deck of cards. He didn’t see or hear his guest coming until she stopped in the doorway and rapped her knuckles against the wooden frame, startling him out of his game.

“Ruby, what are ya doin’ heah?” Four Eyes demanded, getting slowly to his feet. He didn’t exactly look thrilled to see her, and Ruby felt a ridiculous pang of disappointment at the knowledge.

“Didn’t seem fair for ya ta be up heah all alone while ev’ryone’s down at Medda’s, so I thought I’d stop by,” she shrugged and smiled, coming the rest of the way into the room. “Brought ya some eggnog an’ fruitcake,” she added, holding them out to him. “Although,” Ruby wrinkled her nose in an attempt to regain her trademark whimsical charm, “I don’t know how good da cake is, Blue an’ Flash made it.”

Four Eyes didn’t seem to find this at all amusing as he regarded her offerings in silence. Finally, he accepted both the flask and the cake with a quiet “t’anks.”

Ruby shrugged again, beginning to wonder whatever had possessed her to come here in the first place. “Yer welcome,” she murmured, falling silent for an awkward moment. “Solitaire?” she finally asked, indicating the cards. Four Eyes shrugged, uncommunicative as always. “Who’s winnin’?” she teased, flashing him a smile, but the joke fell flat. The boy had always been annoyingly immune to the smile that enchanted most males who saw it.

“Ya shouldn’t be out runnin’ around by ya’self,” he said abruptly, going over to the window and peering out into the darkness. Ruby made a face as she sat on the edge of a bunk, carefully arranging her green velvet skirts around her. “Ain’t safe.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, a’ coise it’s safe,” she replied, waving a careless hand.

“Ain’t nevah safe,” he muttered, and something in his tone made her look sharply at him, her heart jerking strangely.

“What’s dat s’posed ta mean?” Ruby demanded, frowning at him. In the semi-darkness she couldn’t quite see the expression in his eyes behind his glasses.

“Means what it means,” he mumbled, turning away, leaving her mystified.

There was an awkward silence until she remarked “Yeah, so, Medda’s party was real nice.”

Four Eyes nodded absently, still standing by the window, looking out as if he expected to see someone lurking there in the cold, dark night. “Yeah, dey were always good,” he murmured vaguely.

Ruby frowned at him, wondering if it was her presence that was so unpleasant to him, or if something else was bothering him. “Expectin’ someone?” she finally asked. He dropped the curtain away from the window and looked over at her. This time she had no difficulty reading his expression. It was fear; fear mixed liberally with guilt.

“Nah,” he muttered, not quite meeting her eyes. Well, that was fine, she could take a hint. Ruby Gallagher may not be the smartest cookie in the pantry, but she’d never been entirely stupid.

“Well, I jus’ thought I’d stop by an’ say Merry Christmas an’ all,” she said quietly. “I’d best be getting back now.” Standing up, she brushed imaginary dust off her full skirt in an effort to stall for time. It was always like this when she was around him, a million things to say, but never a single one came to mind or out of her mouth.

“How’re ya getting home?” he wanted to know, and Ruby shrugged.

“Dere’s a trolley comin’ soon, I’ll take dat,” she replied, picking up her cloak and pulling it over her shoulders.

“Ruby, ya shouldn’t be goin’ out dere alone…” Four Eyes’ words trailed off, and he looked distinctly pained.

“What’s wrong wit’ you?” Ruby finally demanded. “Ain’t like I nevah go nowhere by myself.”

“Yeah, but…” he frowned, fidgeting with his glasses.

Sighing, Ruby rolled her green eyes heavenward. “If yer tryin’ ta be gentlemanly, it ain’t woikin’,” she told him bluntly. He shook his head.

“I ain’t,” he mumbled. “It’s jus’, dere’s a lot a’ bad people out dere...”

“Nah, ain’t nobody ta be scared of - ” Ruby stopped, the words freezing in her throat as soon as she saw the look on his face. “What?” she demanded, tendrils of ice wrapping themselves around her heart. “Four Eyes, what’s da mattah?”

“Nuthin’,” he muttered, dropping his gaze.

“Sumthin’ da mattah,” she exclaimed, crossing the room and stopping directly in front of him. “Gonna tell me what it is?” He shook his head slightly, still not looking her in the eye.

“Jus’ be careful,” he finally said, shrugging uncomfortably. Ruby frowned as she searched his expression, then the realization hit her like a gunshot.

“You’ve seen ‘im.”

Four Eyes’ head snapped up and they stared at each other for a long, dreadful moment. He started to shake his head, to deny it, but the shake became a nod, and the whole world rocked beneath Ruby’s feet.

Luke was alive.

The red haired girl staggered back a step, reeling as reality slammed into her like a train going a hundred miles an hour. Oh, God, alive. Not dead. Alive. It really had been him she’d seen that night in Queens. It wasn’t over after all.

“Are ya shoah it was ‘im?” she finally blurted out. A dreadful shaking had started deep inside her.

Four Eyes flushed a deep crimson and looked guiltily away. “I’m shoah,” he mumbled.

“You talked to ‘im!” she accused. Part of her knew she was hysterical, that she was losing control, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Unable to fully deal with the concept that Luke was alive and probably planning something extremely unpleasant for her, she lighted on something she could deal with. Four Eyes flinched and didn’t deny it. He was staring miserably at a spot somewhere on the floor, not meeting her gaze. “What did ‘e say?” Ruby demanded, twisting her hands together to stop their trembling.

“Nuthin’,” he finally muttered, but the truth was written all over his face. Luke was obviously looking to reassemble members of his old gang. The betrayal was like a knife in Ruby’s chest.

“He – you - ” she couldn’t speak past the horror rising in my throat. “How could you?” she whispered. The tears that had been jammed inside her, unable to fall because of the pure terror that had suppressed them, burst free, streaming down her face. “He killed Bastian! He killed yer best friend!” It was such a non-issue, she shouldn’t have cared what Four Eyes did, she should have been concentrating on finding the quickest way out of New York to save herself from Luke, but she couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around it at the moment. Somehow, Four Eyes rejoining Luke was all she could think about.

“Ruby,” Four Eyes began, reaching for her, his expression desperate.

“Don’t touch me!” she struck at him tearfully as she backed away, shaking her head. “Fingahs was right ‘bout you! Once a rat, always a rat! I can’t believe I - ” She broke off, choking on emotion, unable to finish the thought. Spinning on her heel, she fled from the bunkroom, clattering down the stairs and out into the cold night without a backward glance. Four Eyes didn’t follow.

Midnight Mass at St. John the Divine was just getting out as Ruby approached the cathedral on the border of Harlem and Morningside Heights. She hadn’t made a conscious decision to come here; she’d barely had a conscious thought since she had fled from the Bronx. Somewhere between the boy’s lodging house and East Harlem, it had finally occurred to her what it all meant, that Luke was probably lurking somewhere nearby, hidden by the night, watching and waiting for a opportunity to repay her in kind for the knife she’d put in him. Fine. Let him come. It was almost beyond her to care anymore. She was so tried of it all. Four Eyes’ betrayal seemed to hurt far worse than anything Luke could do to her now. She’d thought for sure that Bastian’s death …. – but she’d been wrong. Certainly not for the first time.

The last of the joyful, celebrating parishioners were trickling out the huge cathedral as Ruby slipped past them into the church’s hushed interior. She didn’t know why she had come here, just that it was comforting to kneel in front of the altar in one of the small side naves, lighting a candle before she folded her hands and closed her eyes to pray.

Please.

She didn’t even know what she was asking for. Just please.

She knelt there for what seemed like a very long time, and when she finally opened her eyes and got slowly to her feet, the gigantic church seemed empty. Of course it wasn’t, but it felt that way. A shiver danced down her spine as she crossed herself. It would appeal to Luke’s sense of the macabre to kill her here, in such a sacred place. But no, nothing lurked in the flickering shadows, she was almost sure of it. So why did she nearly jump out of her skin when an elderly priest came tottering along down the row between the pews?

Dipping her fingers in holy water, she crossed herself again before slipping back out into the winter night. It had started to snow at some point, huge, fat, fluffy flakes drifting down from heaven like some kind of benediction. The whole world seemed surreal, and despite everything, Ruby found herself thinking how happy Imp would be to see the snow as she tugged her cloak closer around her against the chill.

“Ruby!”

The voice startled her more than it should have, and she jumped nearly a mile, spinning around, her heart galloping like a runaway horse. Coming towards her were some of the Harlem newskids, Ash, Mess, Muse, Imp, and Cody. All of them looked relaxed and happy, eyes dancing with the night’s splendor.

“Wheah have you been?” Imp demanded. “We’ve been lookin’ every where fer you!”

Ruby looked at her friends, and the words were on the tip of her tongue, the whole story - help me, protect me - but it wouldn’t come. Swallowing hard, she somehow managed a shaky smile. “Took a detour,” she replied, forcing herself to sound as casual as possible. It was Christmas after all. Luke had ruined lives, but by God, he wouldn’t ruin her friends’ Christmas, not if she could help it.

“Bodyguards?” Fingers repeated incredulously. “Whose stupid idea was dat?”

Verity sighed, frowning at her book. “Knuckles,” she replied quietly. “He’s worried.”

“I can take care a’ meself,” Fingers was sputtering indignantly.

“No one said you couldn’t,” Ash spoke up softly. “It’s just so that no one is alone.”

So that no one is alone, Ruby thought miserably, keeping her eyes stubbornly on her sewing. The flowers had been the final tip off. She hadn’t had to tell anyone Four Eyes had seen Luke, the murdering thug had announced himself quite unmistakably in the form of that mocking little gesture. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d kept the information to herself for so long, except that it had been Christmas, and she hadn’t wanted to upset her friends. In truth, she reflected bitterly, it probably had more to do with the fact that she hadn’t wanted to admit that Luke was truly alive and in the process of reassembling his old gang. But she wouldn’t think about that, she warned herself, jabbing the thread through the material, Four Eyes wouldn’t join him. He wouldn’t, she knew he wouldn’t. Nor after what Luke did to Bastian...

“How are ya doin, Rubes?” a familiar voice asked, and Ruby looked up to see Mess sitting down beside her on the bunk. The former newsboy’s dark eyes were gentle with concern.

“I’m all right,” she muttered, dropping her gaze back to her sewing. Mess frowned, but didn’t pursue it, moving on to talk to Ash.

Someone was going to die. Someone she loved, and it was going to be her fault, again. Shoving aside the sewing, Ruby curled herself into a little ball and tried to shut out the hushed voices murmuring around her in the bunkroom. The laudanum Verity had given her was beginning to take effect, letting her float in a cloud of partial oblivion that made the terror almost bearable, but did nothing for the guilt. Someone was going to die if she didn’t do something.

“Hoid you was lookin’ fer me.”

The voice sent a rush of terror through her and Ruby froze, every muscle in her body braced. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she regaled herself. You walked into the lion’s den and offered yourself for dinner, you should have known the lion wouldn’t say no. At the time it had seemed like a good idea, a solution, reckless but necessary: find Berto, tell him she was looking for Luke, get it over with before someone else got hurt. It had made sense then; now, standing on the Queensboro bridge in the late afternoon silence, her hands clenched on the railing, Luke appearing out of nowhere to stand so close behind her she could feel the heat of his body against her back, she realized how foolish it had been. She’d gone looking for her own destruction, and destruction had returned the call.

“Yeah.” She managed to push the word past the lump of fear lodged in her throat, and forced herself to turn around slowly, to face him. She knew he’d come. All she’d had to do was wait.

He was so close she brushed against him as she moved, but she couldn’t pull back, the stone railing of the bridge was already flush against her. Seeing him was a shock, like a splash of cold water on a scorching day: the black, black hair above features so perfect they didn’t seem real, the pale skin, and the night dark eyes that seemed to go on forever. She’d never thought she’d see him again, she’d hoped she’d never see him again, especially never with that vaguely amused smirk on his handsome face as he regarded her, dark eyebrows lifted slightly. “I got yer flowahs,” she whispered, and Luke grinned widely.

“Good,” he murmured. “Pretty roses fer a pretty lady. So fittin’, doncha think?” He arched an eyebrow at her meaningfully. White roses for death, oh yes, very fitting.

Ruby swallowed hard and reminded herself of the reason why she’d sought him out: get it over with, let him get her before he struck at anyone else. It was the only way she could see to save her friends. “Why don’t we jus’ get it ovah wit’?” she ground out, and a slight line appeared between Luke’s brows.

“Get what ovah wit’?” he frowned, as if he didn’t know.

“Jus’ go ahead an’ kill me,” Ruby whispered, her knees trembling. “Dat’s what ya wanna do, go ahead an’ do it an’ leave me friends alone.”

For a long moment, Luke frowned at her, then, to her surprise, he threw his head back and howled with laughter. “Maggie, darlin’, ya s’prise me,” he chuckled, reaching out to brush a wayward curl out of her face. Ruby jerked her head away, but Luke stepped closer, resting a hand on the railing on either side of her, effectively pinning her in place. “Is dat what ya want?” he whispered, leaning down to murmur in her ear. “Ta give up so easy? Dat ain’t like ya.”

“I jus’ want ya to leave me friends alone,” Ruby repeated stubbornly, holding herself perfectly still. “None of ‘em have anythin’ ta do wit’ this, so if ya gots me, ya can leave ‘em be.”

“But it’s too soon, Maggie me goil,” Luke murmured, his breath fluttering lightly against her skin. “It wouldn’t be no fun ta end it now. Dere’s still so much ya owe me for.” Ruby closed her eyes briefly. It had been a shot in the dark, a desperate attempt to stop another tragedy from happening to someone she loved. She should have known it wouldn’t work. She should have known he would draw it out, make it as bad for her as he possibly could, no mercy, no logic, just pure revenge. “Ya ain’t even seen me scar,” Luke commented abruptly, pulling back slightly and unwinding the scarf from around his neck. Ruby’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the puckered pink mark in the flesh where his neck met his shoulder. “A hairbreadth either way, an’ it woulda been over,” Luke said, watching her carefully. “Ain’t ya sorry ya didn’t come back an’ stab me again?”

“Yes,” Ruby whispered, raising her gaze to his. “If I’d known you was still alive, I woulda.”

“Lucky fer me,” Luke smirked smugly as he rewound his scarf. “Not so lucky fer you, Maggie May. You’ll see how unlucky soon enough,” he added, leaning close to brush his mouth against hers. Ruby turned her head, trying to get away, but there was nowhere to go. “By da way,” Luke murmured, his lips beside her ear as she tried to push away from him, “Four Eyes says hi.”

The words froze her in mid-struggle, and she whipped her head around to gape at him, horror-stricken. “If you’ve hurt ‘im - ” she began, her voice shaking with hatred and fear.

Luke smirked as he released her and stepped back. “See ya ‘round, Maggie May,” he whispered. Ruby took a step towards him, about to say something, but he was already gone, melting into the misty afternoon shadows.

“He’s so sweet, you have to meet him, Smoke.”

Ruby tuned out the chatter of the other girls. Ash had met a boy, a paragon of good looks and charm, apparently, and she couldn’t stop exalting his virtues. It made Ruby feel dreadfully sorry for poor Mess, who was deeply and madly in love with the Southern girl. Obviously that relationship was painfully one-sided.

“He sounds nice,” Smoke agreed, her usual light hearted tone somewhat subdued. “I can’t wait ta meet ‘im.”

“Oh, you’ll love him,” Ash chirped. At least something was good in someone’s life right now, Ruby mused, keeping her attention on her sewing. Everything else was going to hell in a hand basket.

“Ruby, you have a visitor,” Skies’ voice caught her off guard, and she looked up, barely daring to hope, but her heart sank as a boy of about fifteen walked into the bunkroom.

He was vaguely familiar, she recognized him from the messages he ran for the Long Island leaders, what was his name? Dasher? Runner? Jogger? Something like that. Runner, that was it. What could he want? Long Island didn’t have much to do with Harlem at the best of times.

“I was tol’ ta give dese ta you,” the boy held out a pair of slightly twisted glasses. One lens was cracked and the frame bent, but she recognized them and her breath caught.

“Who told you?” she demanded, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. It would be just like Luke to kill him, then send his glasses as a message, a taunt, a horrible signature.

“O’Malley, from the Bronx,” Runner replied, watching her expression curiously. “He said ta tell you dat ‘e gave ‘em to me, no one else.”

“Are you sure it was Four Eyes?” Ruby whispered, finally accepting the glasses. She turned them over in her hands, her heart aching.

“I’m shoah, ‘e gave ‘em to me personally, an’ said bring ‘em ta you,” Runner replied, nodding emphatically.

He was alive, oh thank God.

The wave of relief was so acute it nearly keeled her over. Ruby swallowed hard and clutched the glasses close to her. “Thank you,” she murmured, tears stinging her eyes.

Runner frowned at her slightly, plainly not understanding exactly what was going on here, but nodded anyway. “Shoah, any time.” He touched a hand to his hat and turned to go.

“Was he all right?” Ruby stopped him. “Did ‘e look like ‘e’d been hurt?”

“Nah,” Runner turned back briefly. “He looked aw right ta me.”

Ruby nodded, and the tears started to fall. “Thank you,” she repeated as the Long Island boy left, but she wasn’t sure if she was thanking him, or someone else entirely.

God, could it get any worse than this?

Ruby wrapped her arms around herself and bent her head against the biting cold wind. Although the night was frigid, she barely felt it, her thoughts caught up in the whirlwind that had become her life. The dog, the poor dog, oh God, and how did he get in? The missing key, how did he get it, how do I stop him, dear Lord what do I do? Part of her hated herself for being somehow relieved that it had been the dog they had found gutted and spread out on horrific display in the dark attic, and not someone else, someone she cared about, someone who didn’t deserve to die because of her.

And that was the gist of it, wasn’t it? Bastian had died because of her, and if she wasn’t very careful, it would happen again.

Poor Muse, his dog, his poor puppy, and poor Ash and Imp and Verity, poor all of them! And the glasses? What was he trying to say? Is he all right? Long Island, what’s he doing on Long Island? Please God let him be all right! Someone please tell me what I’m supposed to do now!

She’d fled from the crowded bunkroom a while ago, and was thankful no one had come after her. She was so sick of having her every step followed, her every move watched. Part of her almost yearned for the freedom death would bring, but no, Luke wouldn’t kill her yet, there was still too much twisted fun to be had.

Shivering as the cold finally permeated her shield of pain, Ruby looked up to see the spire of St. Mark’s church silhouetted against the winter night sky. Almost there, she thought, but felt no relief.

Here I am again, she thought wretchedly as she entered the small cemetery and went to stand by the edge of Bastian’s grave. As always, she noticed how pathetically small it looked for a young man who had been over six feet tall in life. I’m sorry, she thought, I’m so sorry, I never meant for this to happen. Kneeling down, she pressed her shaking fingers to the crude wooden cross. Help me stop him, what do I do?

As in answer to her thoughts, ice crunched loud as a gunshot somewhere behind her. Ruby was on her feet immediately, spinning around, bracing for an attack, but she should have known Luke would never have the indelicacy to make that much noise when he was trying to sneak up on her.

“Berto,” her eyes narrowed as she watched the stocky thug approach her. “Whatta ya want?”

“Heyah sweetface,” Luke’s younger brother leered at her. “Luke wants ya,” he announced without preamble. Well, that was fast, Ruby thought ruefully.

“What, no dogs ta murder?” she muttered and Berto chuckled. He’d been in a fight very recently, there was fresh blood on his face, and his left eye was beginning to swell.

“Youse lucky it was only a dog, da way yer goils been actin’,” he snickered, and Ruby frowned, opening her mouth to ask him what he meant, but Berto was already going on. “Ya bettah come, an’ do it quietly.”

“Yeah, right,” Ruby snapped, taking a step back. “I ain’t goin’ nowheah wit’ you.”

Berto rolled his piggy eyes. “C’mon, Ruby, I ain’t in da mood. Luke said ta tell ya dat if ya don’t come, ‘e’ll pay anudda visit to yer house, an’ dis time it won’t be da dog wit’ ‘is guts on da attic floor.”

Ruby’s stomach rose at the coarse words. “Bastard,” she muttered, “e’s bluffin’, there ain’t no way ‘e’d get in there now.”

Berto snorted, a nasty smirk spreading across his broad face. “Ya don’t t’ink so? How do ya t’ink ‘e got into da house in da foist place? Not all a’ yer goils know what ‘e looks like, an’ ‘e can be a real nice fella when ‘e tries.”

There was silence as the other shoe dropped like a lead weight.

Oh, God, the boy Ash had met, Marcus. Marcus. She should have known. Luke’s full name was Lucian Marcus Forlani, how could she have forgotten that? How could she have not known right away? Oh, God, oh, no. Ruby closed her eyes, rocking backwards in horror. Through the waves of anger and hate, she could hear Berto snickering. Opening her eyes, she fixed him with the coldest look she could muster. “Fine,” she spat out. “Let’s go.”

Another dark, seemingly abandoned warehouse on the edge of nowhere, an isolated corner of Queens, near the Brooklyn border. Ruby stared at the building with a sick sense of foreboding. She had a feeling once she walked in there, she would never walk out again. Berto took hold of her arm as they reached the door and hustled her inside.

“Another rigged poker game?” she wondered aloud as Berto hauled her down a dark, dank corridor. It was the way the Forlanis had gotten their hands on the other properties they’d owned.

“Nah,” Berto shook his had. “Belongs ta Scythe.” Scythe, Nick Wakeford, a minor crime boss in Queens, so he was in league with Luke too. The plot thickens, Ruby thought sickly.

“Hey, Luke, got a present fer ya!” Berto announced jovially, pushing her roughly ahead of him into the main room. The force of his shove sent her reeling, and she stumbled into the light, off balance. Catching herself, she straightened up, and found herself looking straight into a pair of devastatingly familiar brown eyes, minus the wire-rimmed glasses.

Four Eyes.

He stared back at her from his seat at the table, holding a handful of cards, looking as horror-stricken as she felt.

What is he doing here? Did Luke kidnap him? No, he’s playing poker, those are cards, – I don’t understand, - Oh, God!

Something shattered inside her, some sense of justice and fairness, and the betrayal was a knife across her throat. She’d never have believed it if she hadn’t seen with her own eyes. She had wanted so badly to believe in him, to forget the past. She’d thought for sure the glasses had meant something else, something intended to be comforting, a message to say he was alive somewhere. Obviously, they had in reality been intended as another horrible mocking gesture, something only Luke would find amusing.

Unable to look at Four Eyes a moment longer, she choked back the need to be sick, and turned away to face Luke. The source of all her trouble was standing nearby, a faint frown on his perfect face. The frown disappeared almost instantly, replaced by a smug smile. “Hello, darlin’,” he murmured, raking a glance over her. “Welcome to me new home.”

Ruby swallowed hard, shaken and off balance. “What do ya want?” she finally managed to grate out. She wouldn’t look back at Four Eyes, she wouldn’t! How could you? she thought, agonized. After everything, how could you?

“T’anks, Berto,” Luke was saying, ignoring her question. “Dey’s playin’ poker, get Cain ta deal ya in, me an’ da lady’s got business.” Stepping forward, he held a hand out to her. Ruby stared at it, heartsick. Then, with the defeated air of someone with nothing left to lose, she placed her fingers in his grip and let him lead her away into the darkness of the warehouse.

The slam of the door closing was horribly final, and Ruby felt ill as she squared her shoulders and turned to face Luke. He smiled slightly at her as she met his gaze, and it was a smile to give children nightmares.

"Well, heah I am," she muttered, defeated. "Go ahead an' kill me.

"Maggie, darlin," he murmured the words silkily and took a step towards her. Immediately Ruby backed away, as thoroughly as she knew she was going to die, she still didn't want to do it any sooner than she had to. "Ya seem ta be so certain I'm gonna hoit ya. Maybe I ain't."

"An' pigs fly," she snorted at him. "So what's it gonna be? Gonna gut me like da dog?"

Luke chuckled softly, a terrifyingly smug sound. "Dat's got its possibilities, but its too messy, ya know?"

"Yeah, I saw," Ruby replied, swallowing back nausea at the memory.

"Nah," Luke was watching her carefully, much the way a cat watches a mouse before it moves in for the kill. "What do you t'ink ya desoive, Maggie? Fer betrayin' me, fer tryin' ta kill me? What do ya t'ink I oughta do ta you fer all dat?" He spoke softly, intensely, stepping close to her as she backed herself into the wall trying to put distance between them.

"You've made yer point," she whispered, holding back tears.

"Have I?" Luke breathed, running the back of his fingers down the side of her face. "Are ya shoah?" His smile widened as he curled his hand lightly around her throat, not squeezing, just barely touching her. This is, it I'm going to die now, Ruby thought, and closed her eyes, bracing herself as his grip began to tighten.

The knock on the door sounded like the roof falling in, and Ruby nearly shrieked, her eyes flying open. Her gaze flew to Luke's, and fresh terror rushed through her at the expression on his face as his eyes narrowed and he released her, turning away. She sagged against the wall, watching him as he walked to the door and yanked it open. The low, terse words escaped her, but she flinched when Luke turned back to smirk at her.

"Business," he said. "Be back soon, don't go nowheah, love." He smiled that awful smile again and blew her a kiss, disappearing out the door. The lock clicked loudly in the deafening silence and it sounded to Ruby like the last nail being driven into her coffin. Sliding down the wall, she huddled in a ball and waited for him to return, for her turn to die.

He didn't come back that night. Ruby huddled alone in her icy prison and waited, but he didn't return. Part of her was painfully relieved at her reprieve, but another, much more vocal part of her was agonizing over where he was if he wasn't there. Please God don't let him be somewhere hurting someone was all she could think, over and over, like a litany.

Finally, after hours of silent, never ending fear, she worried herself to sleep.

She had no idea what time it was when the door began to open, the soft click as loud as a gunshot in the ominous silence. The sound awoke her from her light doze immediately, and she scrambled to her feet, back pressed to the wall, braced for the worst.

"Four Eyes!" she blurted out the name in surprise as the tall boy slipped quickly into the small room, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could. The momentary rush of relief she felt at seeing him faded into a pain that went on forever, and she slumped back against the wall in defeat.

"Are ya all right?" he whispered after a beat of awkward silence, scrutinizing her carefully, as if looking for signs of abuse. In reality, and Ruby tried not to let herself notice or care, he was the one who looked as though he'd been in a brawl; his left eye was beginning to swell badly, and there were traces of blood beside his mouth.

"What do you care?" Ruby snapped, hugging herself miserably. "Go away."

"Ruby," he began, but seemed to change his mind about whatever it was he'd been about to say. "Everyone's either gone or asleep, ya can get away now," he muttered, and Ruby turned back to gape at him in astonishment.

"Yer helpin' me?" she demanded bitterly. "What about Luke?"

Four Eyes inhaled sharply and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m a bastard, we’s already covered dat,” he mumbled. “Getting you outta heah is more important.”

"I can’t.” Lord, how she wished she could take the chance he was offering her – but she couldn’t. She couldn’t walk out of here and sacrifice more people who loved her. Luke had her trapped and they both knew it.

"Ain’t nobody up but me. Nobody’ll know ya’s gone till mornin’. If Harlem’s too far, da Queens goils’ll take ya. Or we’se close enough ta Brooklyn an’ ya can’t be safer dan wit Spot."

I know. But I can’t.

She shook her head, turning away. "I can’t," she repeated. "Jus’ leave me alone. Luke’s my problem, an’ I’ll deal wit ‘im."

"Ruby-" he began again.

Tears choking her, pain tearing at her, she spun back to face him.

"No!" It was nearly a shriek. "If I go, he’ll hoit someone else, prob’ly someone I love, an’ I will not let dat happen again, do ya understand?” Why can’t you see that? “Now go away, jus’ go away an’ leave me alone."

There was a beat of silence as they regarded each other. Finally, Four Eyes drew breath and looked away. "If ya leave," he said, quietly, "he’ll know damn well who ta blame an’ he won’t need ta go all da way ta Harlem fer revenge."

And that’s a reason to go? She might have laughed if it hadn’t hurt so much. Wasn’t he listening to her?

"I’se always been good at takin’ care a’ meself,” he went on, oblivious to the stunned horror on her face. “Ya ain’t got nobody ta worry ‘bout but yaself right now."

She opened and closed her mouth, a million things on the tip of her tongue, a million voices babbling through her head. The one that was loudest was Fingers’: “can’t expect a leopard to change ‘is spots, Gallagher.” Just because he’d always looked out for himself and only himself didn’t mean she had to!

Unable to even speak, she shook her head, tears streaming, and turned away from him, hurt and betrayal even more potent than the fear now.

"Ruby–" he began again.

She put her hands over her face. "Go away!" This time, there was a click as the door opened, then closed. He was gone and she was alone.

Sinking back down to the floor yet again, she sobbed, thinking that whatever Luke did to her, he could never make her feel more pain than she felt at that moment.

"... can ya believe dat?"

It felt like an eternity before the door opened again; she had no idea how much time had passed. There were no windows in the storage room, and she had no way of knowing if it was day or night. It was Berto's voice she heard first when the door finally swung inwards, then Luke came into the room, followed by the main members of his entourage, his brother - and Four Eyes.

"A lot a' noive," Luke replied to whatever Berto was saying, but his gaze was on Ruby. "Miss me last night, Maggie?" he asked. Ruby managed to struggle to her feet. She was frozen to the core and so hungry she felt light-headed, but she drew herself up to her full height and fixed Luke with the coldest stare she could muster. If he thought he could make her knuckle under by starving her, he was flat wrong.

"No," she croaked, her voice hoarse from cold and dehydration.

Luke smirked, tilting his head back slightly. "Ain't dat a shame, I'm hoit."

"So, whatta ya wanna do 'bout dis Anthony t'ing?" Berto prompted, and Luke frowned slightly, still looking at Ruby.

"Well, now, did ya hear about dis, Maggie?" he murmured. Ruby swallowed hard and watched him in dread. Anthony? Did he mean Mess? What happened to Mess? Oh, lord, Mess! "Yer pal Anthony is proposin' a trade, get dis, me sistah fer you." There was a beat of silence as Ruby digested this. Luke's sister? Elena? But Elena had gone to live with the Forlanis' maternal grandmother almost two years before.... "She's back in New York," Luke provided with a vaguely amused smile.. "Seems as though Anthony got 'is hands on her an' is hopin' I'll care enough 'bout dat ta do a trade." He chuckled horribly at this, and Ruby closed her eyes briefly. Elena Forlani, the only member of her family with any morals or values, hated both her brothers with a passion born of pure abhorrence. Of course, the feeling was very mutual. Mess should have known that – should have known this wouldn’t do any good, but –

"Pretty dumb idea," Wick snorted, and a few of the thugs muttered their agreement. Ruby privately didn't think it was stupid, desperate and reckless maybe, but with the best of intentions. If anything, she appreciated the attempt her friends were making.

"I'd like ta send 'im a message," Luke was going on, still in that dreadfully silky tone. "Jus' ta tell 'im what I t'ink of 'is liddle 'proposal."

"Cut out 'er heart and send it to 'im," Cain Monroe, the Manhattan criminal who had murdered Ruby’s friend Amy, suggested with a nasty snicker.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Four Eyes watching the discussion, a blank expression on his face. Go ahead and cut out me heart, Ruby thought bitterly, its already broken.

Luke narrowed his eyes and studied his hostage, and Ruby felt a new stab of terror. He was considering it, good God, he was really considering it! He wouldn’t, he couldn’t -

"Nah, too permanent," he mused after a moment. Ruby’s relief was short lived.

"How 'bout an eye?" Wick suggested. "Pop one out without killin' 'er."

"If thine eye offends thee, pluck it out," Luke quoted in a thoughtful tone. "I'm ratha fond of 'er eyes," he added, still musing.

"Dis ain't gettin' us nowhere," Berto grumbled. "Ya gotta do sumthin, ya can't let Anthony git away wit' makin’ us look stupid.”

As if anything Mess could do would make any of them look any worse.

Luke nodded briefly, as if he'd just made up his mind. "Take off yer blouse," he ordered, and Ruby blinked.

"What?" she whispered, shrinking even further back against the wall as a million horrible possibilities flashed across her mind. He wouldn’t - Luke looked at her calmly, but the warning expression in his eyes was enough to send her grappling with the buttons on her shirtwaist. Cheeks burning with humiliation, she removed the garment and held it out to Luke, shivering in only her thin camisole.

"I don't think jus' 'er blouse'll - " Berto began, but Luke shut him up with a sharp gesture.

"Come heah, Maggie," he murmured, almost seductively, and Ruby obeyed, knees shaking and tears trembling on her lashes. When she was directly in front of him, Luke reached into his coat and produced a wicked looking pocketknife. Silently, he took her hand and drew the blade across the palm, slicing a long, deep gash into the skin. Ruby gasped in pain, but didn’t move, keeping her eyes locked on his as he cut her.

Blood, bright as holly berries, began to gush and the corner of Luke's mouth turned up in the slightest twist of a cruel smile. "Wrap it up," he ordered, handing her back her blouse. Ruby did as she was told, winding the cotton around her hand to staunch the flow. "Now, ya still got dat rosary?" Luke was going on.

Wordlessly, she dug in the pocket of her skirt with her uninjured hand and produced the cross and beads that had belonged to her mother. She didn't want to part with it, especially not now when she needed it most, but if it was taken back to Mess as she suspected it would be, at least it would survive longer than she would.

"Good," Luke nodded his approval with a narrow eyed smile. "Dat oughtta get me point across."

Her hand hurt. Dreadfully. It had finally stopped bleeding, after drenching the rag she’d been given in lieu of her blouse a bright crimson. Now it just throbbed, a deep, constant reminder of what was surely to come. The warehouse outside her prison room was silent, and she was blessedly alone. Huddled against the wall, she no longer prayed for help or rescue - she’d turned down the only chance of that she was likely to get - but for death, an end, an escape. She supposed technically she was lucky. Cutting her hand was minuscule compared to the torture Luke could very easily inflict on her, it was even minor compared to other things he’d done to her in the past.

Automatically, her hand went to the burn scars in the smooth flesh on the inside of her elbow. Don’t think about that, she warned herself, you’ll only scare ya’self more. It wasn’t so much death she feared as the pain she knew would inevitably preclude it.

"Hello, Maggie."

Ruby hadn’t even heard the door open. Flinching, she tried to shrink further into a protective ball. God give me strength to die unbroken, she prayed. He can do what ‘e likes to me body, but help me keep me spirit strong. The thought really did give her strength, and she lifted her chin and watched him as he stood leaning on the door, smiling slightly at her. He didn’t move as, clinging to the concrete wall for support, she pulled herself slowly to her feet.

Something blazed in his eyes - lust? menace? - but she didn’t cower as he pushed off and approached her.

"Ya look a little peaked," he commented, coming to a stop close in front of her and smoothing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"You’d look a little peaked too if ya hadn’t eaten in three days," she shot back, jerking her head away from his hand. Luke twisted his perfect mouth into a mockingly sympathetic moue.

"Has it been that long, love?" he clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "I’m terr’bly sorry. What would ya like? Steak? Potatoes? Maybe some chicken?"

"I’d like fer you ta shrivel up an’ die," she snapped, hating her body for betraying her with an audible growl of hunger at his words. Luke smirked.

"Well, da chef is on vacation," he told her, taking a step closer. Ruby automatically shied away, but of course, as usual, there was nowhere to go. "But I’m shoah we can scare sumthin’ up fer ya." He paused, giving her a meaningful look, his gaze raking slowly over her body. "Fer a price."

Oh, so that’s how we’re playin’ it.

"Take yer price an’ shove it," she whispered, hating him with every molecule and cell of her being. The corner of Luke’s mouth quirked up.

"I’m bein’ a real gentleman heah," he said softly, cupping her chin in his hand. "Ya know I could force ya anytime."

Ruby glared at him, unflinching. "Ya could, but ya won’t," she replied. Of that much, she was confident. Whatever else he did to her, he wouldn’t do that. "Ain’t yer style.”

Luke’s smile widened. "Yer right, it ain’t. Ya know me so well, my Maggie May," he murmured, smoothing a caressing finger over her cheek and down her throat. "Of course, people change," he added, unexpectedly sliding his hand under the strap of her camisole.

Oh, please no, I can bear anythin’ but that -

"Take yer filthy paws off a’ me!" Ruby cried, making a futile attempt to jerk away. Luke smirked and tightened his grip, halting her twist for freedom.

"It’s been a long time, Maggie," he said, slipping the thin cotton strap off her shoulder.

"Bastard," she hissed at him, jamming a foot onto his toes. Luke didn’t so much as blink.

"Jus’ a reminder, me love, of how much restraint I’m showin’ heah." Keeping his eyes on her face, he slid his hand down her body to her hip. "Considah ya’self lucky that it ain’t me style," he told her, and pulled her flush against him.

"I hate you," she whispered, shoving at his chest. To her surprise, he actually released her, and she scrambled a few steps away. Crossing her arms protectively over her chest, she backed as far from him as the small storage room would allow. For a long moment, there was silence as they regarded each other. The only sound was Ruby’s own ragged breathing, hitching softly as she tried to hold back tears.

I don’t wanna die.

"So, Maggie," Luke finally began, his tone deceptively casual. "Tell me sumthin’." He paused to study her. "Did ya start f***ing Deveer before or afta I went ta prison?"

Ruby flinched at the unexpected question. Part of her wished she could say before, just out of spite, but she wasn’t sure how badly he would hurt her for that answer. "After," she admitted truthfully, holding his gaze. Luke tipped his head back ever so slightly.

"Yer lyin’," he commented conversationally. Ruby glared at him as she shook her own head.

"Why would I?" she snapped. "It don’t make no difference now anyway."

"Did ya love ‘im?" Luke went on, keeping his eyes on her face. She winced again.

"What do you care?" she demanded. "I loved him, yeah, like the dear friend ‘e was."

Luke snorted softly. "Poor bastard, led ‘im on a merry chase didn’t ya?" he taunted, and Ruby shook her head as tears flooded her eyes. She didn’t want to think about Bastian, her big blonde knight in slightly tarnished armour who’d come to her rescue when Luke had turned so violent towards her. She’d never loved him the way he’d wanted her to, and the guilt in that memory nearly rivaled that of the guilt surrounding his death. "Poor little Ruby, needed ‘im so," Luke went on mockingly. "Stupid guy never stood a chance. An’ now ‘e’s dead."

"Shut up," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What a guy ‘e was, ‘e prob’ly begged Conlon to let ‘im be ‘is spy, jus’ so ‘e could be near you, an’ look where it got ‘im - "

"Shut up!" she repeated, more vehemently. God, Bastian, I’m so sorry.

"See, ‘cause that’s what ya do, Maggie May, ya put this spell on people, an’ a fella don’t know which way is up," Luke murmured. "Ya get into a guy’s mind, an’ yer all ‘e can think about, dream about. Yer everythin’."

"Shut up!" she nearly shrieked, sliding down the wall to huddle on the floor.

"But ya like it that way, don’t ya?" His tone had turned cruel. "Ya want ta be wanted." He paused. "Lemme ask ya somethin’, Maggie." He dropped his voice. Unable to look at him, she kept her head down and hugged her arms close to her sides, trying to block out his words. "What’s it like ta have men die fer you?"

Her head snapped up at that, her mouth opening in stricken horror as the tears streamed.

Luke smiled cruelly at her as he approached, coming across the room to kneel in front of her. "He wouldn’t’a died that night if it hadn’t’a been fer you," he told her quietly, brushing her hair off her forehead. "You killed ‘im more surely than I did. What do ya think a’ that?"

"Bastard," she whispered, quaveringly. "You woulda killed ‘im anyway, for bein’ Spot’s spy."

"Ya think?" Luke asked, still stroking her hair. "I dunno about that." She tried to pull away from his touch, but he caught her chin and held her still. "Sumthin’ ta think about, Maggie May," he murmured. "Now give me a kiss an’ I’ll let ya live another day," he smiled, a smile to give nightmares, and leaned close to her.

I hate you.

But she let him kiss her, a long, slow, deep kiss that she forced herself to endure. Luke finally broke it, moving to touch his lips to her cheeks, catching her tears. "I miss you," he whispered, pressing more kisses along her jaw to her ear and down her neck. "We used ta be good together, Maggie."

"Get off me," she hissed, pushing at him. She felt him tense and flinched. He’d hurt her now, she knew. She just hoped that was all he did.

To her surprise, Luke released her and stood up, towering over her as she continued to huddle against the wall. "Don’t push yer luck, Maggie," he warned softly. "It might jus’ run out one a’ these nights."

"Go to hell," she whispered and watched as he smiled slightly, that dangerous, beautiful smile that gave her chills of terror.

"Not yet, love, still got work ta do here," he smirked. "‘Sides, the devil don’t want me."

"Prob’ly afraid ya’ll take over," she snapped back and Luke chuckled.

"Prob’ly," he agreed, and turned to go. Pausing at the door, he turned back and regarded her with hooded eyes. "Ya cold?" he asked, running his gaze over her.

"Like ya care," she snorted at him, and Luke put a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

"Of course I care," he replied. "If ya get too cold, yer welcome ta share me bed. It’s nice an’ warm."

"Not on yer life," she muttered, rubbing the goosebumps that had broken out on the flesh of her bare arms. Part of her had to wonder, though, how long she could hold out against the cold and the hunger, before she gave in and let him touch her. I won’t. I can’t. I’d ratha die. But of starvation? Such a slow, painful death. Leave it ta Luke.

Luke shrugged and flashed a dazzling smile. "Yer choice," he said, and strode back across the room. She flinched away from him as he hunkered down and pressed another kiss to the top of her head. "Sleep tight, Maggie," he murmured, then he was gone.

Thank God.

She understood now why he’d been keeping her alive. Not out of mercy, never out of mercy, certainly not out of kindness, because if there was one thing other than compassion that Luke Forlani had never possessed, it was kindness. No, it was the crux of his revenge. A new kind of torture, psychological. Not physical, he’d barely touched her in the days she’d been there, aside from her hand, but something much worse, something that made her wish for death even more than bodily pain would have.

She cringed fearfully, curling into herself, when she heard the key in the lock. It would be time to end it soon; as much as Luke seemed to be enjoying the mental pain he was inflicting on her, she was sure he’d be getting impatient to spill blood, hers, drop by drop.

“Ruby?”

The voice wasn’t Luke’s, but she flinched anyway, partially out of habit, and partially because it belonged to the one person who had even more power than Luke to cause her pain. She watched him as he came into the room and crossed to her, helping her get shakily to her feet. “Da fellas are comin’,” he mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

Ruby blinked uncomprehendingly. “What – what do ya mean?” she whispered hoarsely, swaying slightly.

“Brooklyn. An’ Harlem, an’ da Bronx. Ta get you out,” came the reply as Four Eyes grabbed the thin, scratchy blanket off the pallet and wrapped it around her. Despite everything, she irrelevantly noticed he didn’t make contact with her skin as he tucked the blankets’ ends around her bare shoulders.

“Brooklyn. An’ Harlem, an’ da Bronx. Ta get you out.”

Ruby’s heart leapt, and for a moment, she could see the light of salvation shining through the murky depths of despair.

They turned to go and -

“O’Malley,” the horribly silky voice froze them both in mid step, “what did I tell ya about udda people’s goils?”

He was blocking the door, standing there calmly, a look of affected, almost casual disappointment on his face. In his hand, pointed towards them, was an evil-looking pistol.

Four Eyes grabbed her arm and shoved her behind him, his much taller frame effectively shielding her from Luke’s line of sight. Ruby gasped, clutching the back of his vest with her free hand, unable to break the hold that kept her safely in place. Her heart sank, then began to pound with terror. So close, they’d been so close -

“Give ‘er to me, an’ you can go,” Luke was smiling smugly, knowing the pistol gave him complete control of the situation. From somewhere downstairs, the roar of a brawl was beginning, the unmistakable sounds of violence. “Sounds like da cavalry’s heah,” Luke remarked, tilting his head to one side to listen. “Not much time now.”

Ruby could feel Four Eyes shaking, but she couldn’t twist free of his hold on her wrist. If she could just get away, maybe, just maybe, she could keep his brains from being splattered all over the room. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t letting her go; he was obviously going to stand there until Luke shot him.

Oh, God, please, not again!

“Don’t be as stupid as Bastian,” Luke warned coldly, leveling the gun at the other boy’s forehead. “She ain’t worth dyin’ for.”

No, no, no, please no, don’t let this happen, Ruby was sobbing soundlessly, squirming hard against the hold on her arm. Not again, please lord, not again!

Four Eyes didn’t move. He stood there and stared unflinchingly into the barrel of the gun while Luke smirked expectantly, waiting for the other boy to balk and save himself.

There was a long, dreadful moment as time stood still, then Luke shrugged. “Suit ya’self,” he said, and pulled the trigger.

The resulting click was as loud as any gunshot could be, and a horrified scream stuck in Ruby’s throat –

No no no no no no no no…!

Then she realized that the gun hadn’t gone off, that Four Eyes was, mercifully, still standing. The gun had jammed somehow, and the look of pure, naked astonishment on Luke’s face almost made the whole ordeal worthwhile.

Abruptly, Four Eyes let go of her arm and threw himself at Luke, knocking the pistol out of his hands. Ruby heard it clatter into a corner and scrambled after it, desperate to find it before it fell into hostile hands again.

Just then, the door exploded inwards with the force of madly brawling bodies. Chaos erupted, and the gun was forgotten as a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her off her feet.

Ruby shrieked involuntarily before she realized it was Mess who was swinging her towards the door.

“C’mon, princess, let’s get ya back ta Harlem,” he said, hustling her outside.

“No!” Ruby struggled vainly against her friend. “Lemme go! Mess, help Four Eyes!” Even through the milling crowd of fighting bodies, she could see Luke beating the stuffing out the Bronx boy.

“C’mon Rubes,” Mess grunted, ignoring her. It was in a strange haze of fear, relief and unreality that she let her friends hurry her back to Harlem.

Home. Safety. Ruby had never been so relieved to be anywhere in her life. Her return was a blur, she was half frozen, nearly starved, and badly dehydrated. She barely recalled being fed and fussed over, then put to bed to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep born of sheer exhaustion.

Much later, when she awoke, the first thing she did was soak in a hot bath. Finally, feeling more human than she had in ages, she greeted her friends and tried to talk about her ordeal. It came out that Luke had been arrested again, and was behind bars with most of his gang. It was over.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Ash asked for what had to be the fifteenth time. Ruby nodded, picking at her bedspread.

“I’m fine,” she replied, then looked up at the other girl. “Ash - ” she began, but her friend had hopped up.

“Let me get you some tea,” she said, and was gone. Ash obviously had no desire to talk about her experience with ‘Marcus’.

Guilt lanced through her, and Ruby sighed, too drained and weary to pursue the subject.

“How ya feelin’, Rubes?” Mess entered the room and swooped down to press a brotherly kiss to her cheek. Ruby brightened; she’d been hoping the former newsboy would stop by.

“Mess, hey. I’m fine,” she smiled at him and gestured for him to take a seat. “Thank you fer everythin’.”

Mess grinned as he sat down. “Anythin’ fer you, Rubes.”

“Listen, could ya do sumthin’ else fer me?” Ruby asked, Her smile fading into seriousness as she placed her hand on his sleeve. Mess nodded quizzically.

“Shoah, what?”

“Could you go to da Bronx? See how Four Eyes is doin’?” she asked, ignoring the snort of disgust that came from Fingers’ bunk. “I’m… really worried,” she finished weakly. Mess looked at her for a moment before nodding, and Ruby flushed to the roots of her hair under his scrutiny.

“Shoah, no problem.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning back on her pillows, weariness creeping back in again. “I ‘ppreciate it.”

“Anythin’ ya want me ta say?” Mess asked as he stood up. Fingers muttered something that Ruby knew was certain to be unpleasant, but she pretended not to have heard.

“Jus’ – no,” she shook her head. “Jus’ make shoah he’s all right.” She’d go herself as soon as she was able. Right now, getting out of bed was somewhat of a struggle. Walking all the way to the Bronx would have to wait a few days.

“Aw right, Rubes, I’ll stop by on me way to work,” Mess nodded and Ruby smiled genuinely.

“Thanks, love, really,” she said, returning his hug warmly. Mess grinned and wandered off, presumably to see Ash before he headed out.

“Gallagher - ” Fingers paused in her filing to scowl across the room.

“Good night, Fingers,” Ruby said firmly, sliding down in her bunk and rolling over. There was a huff and a snort from the other girl, but the conversation wasn’t pursued. Ruby closed her eyes and let herself relax towards blessed sleep.

The Bronx certainly hadn’t changed, she reflected, negotiating the icy porch steps carefully. Well, of course it hasn’t, silly, you were only away for a few days. A few days?. It seemed like a lifetime, two lifetimes. Pushing the thought aside, she reached for the door handle and went in.

“Ruby, hey!” Splints and Souther were in the lobby, and both turned to greet her with enthusiasm.

“How are ya?” Splints, one of her heroes, with a nasty black eye for his trouble, gave her a welcoming hug.

“I’m fine, really,” she smiled at him and kissed his cheek briefly. “How are you?” she asked, with a meaningful look at his bruise.

“Ah, dis? Ain’t nuthin’,” the Bronx leader grinned and touched the back of his hand to the discoloration. “Had woise.”

Ruby nodded, unable to keep her eyes from sliding automatically towards the stairs. “Is, um, is Four Eyes here?”

Splints’ smile wavered slightly. “Yeah, he’s heah,” he said. There was something else to be said there, she could hear it hovering just beyond the spoken, but Splints let it go. “Go on up,” he said instead, indicating the staircase.

“Thanks darlin’.” She squeezed his hand affectionately and did just that.

And here we are again.

He wasn’t playing solitaire this time, just standing by the window, staring out. He looked frighteningly awful, pale and ill, with huge circles under his hollowed out eyes, and a dreadful rattle accompanied every breath he took. Souther had said he was sick, but.... Her heart ached and she had to struggle to hold back tears.

“Hey.” The word was barely more than a whisper, but he jerked around in surprise.

“Ruby.” He didn’t look happy to see her; well, that was fine, she understood.

“How are ya?” she asked him, coming the rest of the way into the room and stopping to take a look at him. He certainly had his share of bumps and bruises from that night, but at least he was alive.

“Aw right,” he shrugged, not meeting her gaze.

“I jus’ came by,” she began hesitantly, “ta say thank you.” She paused. “And to say I’m sorry.”

That got his attention. His eyes jerked to hers and he frowned. “What for?”

Ruby shrugged her shoulders slightly, perching on the edge of the nearest bunk. “Fer not believin’ in you, fer thinkin’ that ya’d joined Luke ‘cause ya wanted to. I shoulda known bettah.”

He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but instead at the wooden slats of the floor. He started to shake his head, but Ruby plowed on. “Dat’s twice now ya’s saved me life, ya know,” she reminded him gently. “An’ I realized I nevah thanked ya fer da foist time.”

“Ruby - ”

“Anyway,” she smiled at him slightly, wishing there was more to say, “thank you.”

Four Eyes shook his head again; she could see his gaze sliding to the bandages wrapped around her right hand. She’d have a scar, the doctor had said, long and thin, diagonal across her palm. It seemed to Ruby like a very minor scar to have, compared to the ones Luke had promised.

“I think savin’ me life kinda cancels ev’rythin’ else out,” she said quietly, but there was no answer. Silence, then Ruby stood up, reaching into the pocket of her winter cloak. “I t’ought ya might want dese back,” she said, holding out the glasses. When he took them, she saw him blink at the new lens in the right frame. “Noah, in Queens, wears glasses too, an’ ‘e gets ‘em fixed real cheap, someone ‘e knows,” she explained. “Anyway, thank you,” she repeated. “I guess - ” she paused, at a loss for words finally. “I guess I’ll see ya ‘round.” She turned to go.

“Me own stupidity,” he mumbled, and Ruby paused. He was staring at the glasses, turning them over and over in his hands. “Ya didn’t hafta..” he added, and her heart twisted. Didn’t I? she thought, watching him. After everything –

“It was the least I could do,” she whispered, and flinched at the unspoken words in her own voice. She could have kicked herself, the last bloody thing he needed now was –

“Heyah- sorry!” Doze appeared at the door, a huge grin lighting across his face when he caught sight of them. Ruby opened her mouth to greet him, but a movement behind her distracted her as Four Eyes bolted for the bathroom. She wasn’t sure if it was his illness that sent him rushing, or if it was her presence. Either way, it was time to go.

“See ya latah, Doze,” she murmured as she passed him. The Bronx newsboy remained silent as she passed.

She somehow managed to keep the tears under control until she was out of the lodging house itself.

The winter of our discontent...

She wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but she had a feeling she could relate. The words blurred before her, and she found she’d read the same soliloquy four times when Fingers stalked into the bunkroom and grabbed the dusty tome out of her hands.

“What?” Ruby looked up in surprise as the other girl hauled her to her feet.

“If ya mention dis again, I’ll soak ya,” the pickpocket muttered, and turned to stomp out of the room. Ruby opened her mouth in confusion and followed.

As she reached the door, she heard Fingers mutter “Go,” at someone, and she knew.

Her heart leapt when she saw him. He still looked pretty dreadful, but better for all that. The bruises on his face were starting to fade; if only the haunted look in his eyes would do the same.

Ruby swallowed hard and summoned up a smile. “Hey. How are ya feelin’?” she asked, resisting the urge to go to him and hug him. He looked excessively uncomfortable, staring at the hallway floor rather than look her in the eye.

“Aw right,” Four Eyes mumbled in a barely audible voice. An awkward silence descended.

Ruby shifted her weight, wondering why tension still hung over them like a heavy storm cloud. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, this is ridiculous,” she finally sighed. “We used to be friends.” Going over to him, she took his hand in both of hers. “Are ya sure yer all right? You should probably be home in bed.”

Four Eyes shrugged and slid his hand out of her grasp. “I’m fine,” he muttered, then added with uncharacteristic frankness, “I figured it musta been important fer Fingers to come lookin’ fer me.”

“Well, I guess she knew how worried I was,” Ruby replied gently, and thought she saw him flinch just slightly.

“Why?”

Why? Bloody good question. Ruby sighed again, her heart aching for the guilt that still showed in his eyes. “Would ya cut it out?” she finally blurted. “Things happened that ya couldn’t control, ya did the best ya could, an’ ya saved me an’ Brooklyn in the process. Give ya’self a break, love, please.”

Four Eyes frowned. “If it’d stop matterin’ ta you...” his voice trailed off, and Ruby shook her head.

“It’s not gonna stop matterin’ ta me because yer not gonna stop matterin’ ta me.”

It was the wrong thing to say, she knew it almost before the words popped out of her mouth, but she couldn’t stop herself. Another dreadful silence fell, stretching out infinitely.

Finally, Four Eyes looked up. “I ain’t Bastian.”

He might as well have punched her in the stomach. For a moment, it felt like he had; she couldn’t breathe and her vision grayed out around the edges. She wished he’d punched her in the stomach, it would have hurt less. She reeled, stunned and wounded to the core.

He didn’t really think that, did he? He didn’t really think that she –

“I never said ya was,” she managed to whisper when she could breathe again. The silence this time was more than awkward, it was stunned, horrified, like the moment following a hard, unexpected slap to the face. “I think ya’d better go now. I’m glad yer feelin’ better,” Ruby mumbled stiffly around the huge lump in her throat and the burning in her chest.

Four Eyes swallowed hard, his mouth working as if he had something else to say. As far as Ruby was concerned, it was enough, there was nothing left to be said.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, backing away. A moment later he was gone, down the stairs and out of the lodging house.

Ruby sank back to lean on the wall, too stricken to even cry. He thought that? He really thought she saw him as - ? It hurt too much to even contemplate.

“Was that Four Eyes, Ruby?” Verity’s voice cut through her daze. Ruby looked up to see the other girl standing in the doorway.

“Yeah,” she muttered, and Verity frowned.

“What happened?”

“Nuthin’.” Unable to stand her friend’s curious expression, she pushed past Verity and hurried into the bunkroom and into bed, still shaking, too hurt to even cry.

“Anybody seen me green ribbons?” Ruby called to the crowded bunkroom as she dug unsuccessfully through her trunk. Saturday night, and Harlem’s resident party girl was preparing for a night on the town. On the surface, she knew she looked as normal as ever, inside, she was numb, frozen into nothingness. If she didn’t think about it, she wouldn’t feel the pain. That was the theory, anyway.

“Sorry, Ruby, no,” Verity replied from her bunk, her ever present book propped on her lap.

“I got black ones,” Imp offered, but Ruby waved a dismissive hand.

“Well, dat’s jus’ perfect, no green ribbons, no Millinger’s, guess I’ll hafta stay home,” she remarked flippantly.

“Dey hafta be green?” Gwen asked innocently, and Ruby grimaced, indicating her dress.

“Gotta match,” she said. There was a knock on the door downstairs and Ruby sighed aloud. “Dat’s Ty, dangit,” she muttered, hurrying over to the mirror. Frowning, she gave her hair a shake. “I’ll jus’ leave it down.”

“I’ll get it!” Gwen hopped up and bolted out of the bunkroom, shooting down the stairs. “I gots green ribbons unda me bed if ya can find ‘em!” she called back over her shoulder.

“I’ve never seen you so picky about hair ribbons,” Verity commented casually, but the hazel eyes fixed on her were sharp, shrewd. Verity always knew when something wasn’t quite right. She was uncannily like Faith in that respect.

“Gotta look me best fer Ty,” Ruby replied primly, then ruined it by rolling her eyes. Verity rolled hers back, and a grin flashed between the two girls. “It’s all right, Gwenny, sugar” Ruby called out the door. “Tell Ty I’ll be right down!”

Blind Diamond Conner, one of the Harlem newsboys, grinned charmingly from his seat by the window. “Ah Ruby, if he's gonna object ta blue ribbons, tell 'im ta leave ya alone an' I'll take ya out, blue, yellow, 'er black ribbons,” he remarked teasingly. Ruby laughed and flashed him a bright smile.

“I’ll keep dat in mind, love,” she winked. “We’ll be at Millinger’s if anybody wants ta join us fer a whiskey.” With that, she blew the room a kiss and breezed out the door. Her tone was playful as she clattered down the front stairs. “Gwenny, love, I’d invite ya, but yer too - ”

The words died in her throat when she caught sight of the boy standing in the doorway. It wasn’t Ty. Not even close.

“Oh.” She stopped dead.

Gwen looked from one to the other, confused by the sudden surge of tension. “Dat ain’t good look on yer face, Ruby,” she observed softly. Ruby conjured up a slightly shaky smile and ruffled the younger girl’s hair.

“It’s all right, love,” she assured her without quite looking at her. “Hey,” she added to Four Eyes. What are ya doin’ heah? she wanted to ask, but the words were frozen in her throat. We don’t got nuthin’ left ta sayta each udda, ya made dat clear enough.

“I t’ought ‘e was Ty,” Gwen mumbled, plainly distressed.

Ruby swallowed. “It’s all right, Gwenny,” she repeated quietly. The younger girl looked abashed for another moment, then turned and scurried away back upstairs. Ruby barely noticed her going. “Do ya wanna come in?” she finally asked, opening the door a little wider. The night air was frigid, certainly not good for someone who had just recovered from a bad chill.

“I jus’ came ta apologize,” Four Eyes muttered at the snow-covered step, not responding to her invitation inside.

Apologize? Ruby thought, staring at him silently. Apologize fer throwin’ Bastian in me face when he was never even a consideration, or apologize fer da fact dat I offered ya sumthin’ dat ya simply don’t want?

“It’s all right,” she finally whispered. “Yer forgiven.”

Four Eyes frowned, still not looking at her. “Dat ain’t enough,” he mumbled. “I'se awready said it too many times, but . . . I ain't - I can't - ” He sighed in frustration.

Can’t what? Ruby shook her head wordlessly. If ya don’t want me, all ya gotta do is say so.

Four Eyes sighed again. “Look, I'se - ” He broke off.

Ruby swallowed hard. “Yer what?”

“Dere ain't nothin' - ” He stopped and took a breath, then continued quietly, “I'se a mess. Even I know dat. Maybe someday I won't be, but - ” he paused, still addressing the snow. “I can't ask nobody ta put up wit dat.”

But it wouldn’t be puttin’ up - she knew the words were futile.

“Ya don’t hafta ask,” she managed to murmur, but it wasn’t nearly a fraction of what she wanted to say.

Four Eyes glared at the ice on the step. “I don't mean - It ain't - ” He sighed, obviously having as much trouble with what he wanted to say as she was. “I'd radder - I don't see what - Da only t'ing I can give ya is sometime. I ain't no use ta nobody right now.”

Ya don’t gotta be of use, fer heaven’s sake! Ruby bit her lip and looked away, unable to hold the tears back. “If dat’s how ya feel….” She whispered. She couldn’t understand why he seemed to think he was so worthless, and more over, why he wouldn’t let her help him see how wrong he was. “Even though I t’ink yer wrong,” she had to add in a barely audible voice.

“I know. I don't know -why-, but - ” Four Eyes took a breath. “I don't want ya ta stop t'inkin' dat.”

I won’t. I can’t. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.

The whole conversation was confusing her to death. He wasn’t any use to anyone, he didn’t want her, but he didn’t want her to stop thinking that - it hurt too much to try to piece it all together.

“Den why...” the question wasn’t even fully formed in her own mind, and her voice trailed off. Her dignity and pride were in complete tatters; she couldn’t seem to stop crying.

“I don't know!” Four Eyes cried, a little helplessly. Another deep breath, and he added in a quieter voice, “I'se a mess. I told ya . . .” Again his sentence trailed off. “I gotta get back. Doze is awready gonna yell at me. I- ”

Ruby swallowed and wiped at her tears. “All right,” she whispered. “Be careful,” she added, so quietly she wasn’t even sure he’d heard her.

“I will.” Obviously he had heard her. There was still something lingering there to be said, but the silence stretched on.

Finally, Ruby looked up and met his gaze directly for nearly the first time in their agonizing conversation. He’d said his piece; she needed to say hers, even if it was somewhat irrelevant now.

“It had nuthin’ ta do wit’ Bastian,” she whispered, but with absolute conviction. That said, she went inside and shut the door. Sinking down on the bottom step of the staircase, she buried her face in her hands and cried. There was a long moment, then a soft knock on the front door. Ruby looked up, unable to squelch a sudden lurch of hope, but there was no one standing on the stoop when she opened the door. Nothing but a lonely pair of spectacles sitting on the ice-encrusted welcome mat. Ruby stared at them for a moment, then leaned down to pick them up. She couldn’t believe he’d be intentionally cruel, but the meaning was clear enough to her, he didn’t want her, and he didn’t want her gift, even if it meant not being able to see.

Yet again, she felt as though someone had slapped her.

“Ruby, are you all right?” A voice cut into her misery, and Ruby looked up, wiping at her tearstained cheeks.

“Yeah, fine,” she mumbled, closing the door behind her again and returning to sit on the stairs. Verity came the rest of the way down and sat beside her.

“Ty’s here,” the older girl said gently. Ruby shrugged vaguely, disinterestedly. “What happened?” Verity asked, glancing at the glasses.

Ruby shrugged slightly. “I don't understand,” she murmured tearfully. “He's so unhappy an' I don't know how to help 'im, an' 'e don't seem ta want me help, 'e don't seem to want me at all." She paused. "Nobody’s evah not wanted me before, especially not someone dat I - ” she stopped, swallowing over the lump in her throat. “’E don’t even want these, I got ‘em fixed for ‘im, and ‘e don’t even want them. I just want ta help 'im,” she added painfully.

Verity looked at the glasses, frowning slightly. “But last time, he gave them to you for safekeeping,” she reminded her friend gently. Ruby shook her head, unable to formulate an answer because she just didn’t understand.

“Did ya say Ty was heah?” she finally mumbled, wiping away the last of her tears.

Verity nodded.

“He’s upstairs, he came to the window because he assumed no one would answer a knock to the door this late at night,” she explained somewhat wryly.

Ruby nodded and got to her feet. “All right den,” she murmured, taking a deep breath and running a hand through her hair.

“Are you going to be all right?” Verity pressed, concerned.

“Shoah, fine, no problem,” Ruby attempted her trademark smile, but it came out brittle, false. “Bettah go, can’t keep a fella waitin’.”

Back across the Bridge to the Bronx again. She had to stop and ask Souther where Doze sold, but once the boy had given her directions to the proper corner, she found her way there fairly easily.

Doze was selling at one end of the street, at the other –

Ruby swallowed and looked away. He wasn’t looking in her direction, he wouldn’t see her. Straightening her shoulders, she approached Doze.

“Hey sugar,” she spoke from behind him, quietly, and he turned, surprise plain on his face.

“Heyah, Ruby,” he smiled as he hugged her. “How are ya?”

“I’m all right, thanks.” Lie. “How are you?” Her answering smile came out somewhat shaky.

“I’m fine,” Doze replied. His eyes were sharp beneath their heavy lids, and Ruby felt like he could see straight through her.

“I’m glad,” she nodded, then paused. “Listen, hon, can ya do sumthin’ fer me?”

Doze flashed the grin that made him so popular with the girls. “When a beautiful lady asks, how can I refuse?”

Ruby found herself smiling genuinely. She’d always been fond of Doze. She gave him a teasing poke in the ribs, but almost immediately sobered as she produced the spectacles from her cloak pocket. “Somebody needs these,” she said softly, holding them out to him.

“Oh.” Doze frowned as he accepted them, then turned to glance down the street. Ruby winced inwardly, but didn’t follow his gaze.

“He left them in Harlem,” she murmured, feeling obliged to explain. “I know ‘e needs ‘em…” she shrugged helplessly.

“Yeah, ‘e does,” Doze agreed, turning back to her. His expression was still grim.

“An’ it’s prob’ly better if you give ‘em to ‘im,” she finished weakly. Because we know ‘e ain’t gonna wanna see me.

Doze nodded slightly. “I’ll be glad ta.” He paused, turning the glasses over in his hands. “Anythin’ I should say?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she bit her lip slightly. “Just that… jus’ that I’m sorry if it seemed like I was… demandin’ sumthin’ of ‘im.” Miserably.

“I don’t think…” Doze began, then sighed, muttering under his breath. “I’ll tell ‘im.”

“Thanks.” She shrugged slightly and half turned to go, half lingered, wishing - for what?

“Ya shoah yer aw right?” Doze demanded bluntly, and Ruby blinked, mildly startled.

“What, me? Oh, I’m fine, sugar, thanks for asking,” she shrugged and managed a wobbly smile.

“Right,” Doze sighed sceptically. Ruby looked away.

“I’m jus’ worried about ‘im, ya know?” she admitted in a tiny, forlorn voice.

“Yeah, me too,” Doze nodded slightly.

Silence, then Ruby shook herself. “I’d best be getting back.” Leaning up, she pressed a brief kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, love. See ya round?”

“Yeah, see ya,” Doze murmured, attention plainly elsewhere.

Shoulders slumped, heart heavy, Ruby headed home to Harlem.

“Aren’t you going out tonight, Ruby?”

“Hmm?” Ruby blinked and looked up, startled out of her thoughts. Verity arched an eyebrow at her and smiled.

“It’s Saturday. Aren’t you going out?”

Ruby shook her head, turning her locket over in her hands before putting it away in the night table drawer. “Not tonight, no.”

“Memphis was heah earlier, lookin’ fer ya,” Skies put in and Ruby sighed.

“That’s nice,” she murmured distractedly. Verity and the Harlem leader exchanged glances, but Ruby didn’t notice.

“Ruby?” Ash spoke up from the doorway, and the red haired girl bit back a groan of frustration. Why wouldn’t they just leave her alone? She was fine! “There’s someone here to see you,” the other girl added, and Ruby looked up.

“Oh.” She frowned, trying to remember if she had made plans with one of her boys or not. She didn’t think she had, had she? Wracking her brains, she slid off her bunk and stood up. “Thanks,” she added to Ash as she left the bunkroom and her friend nodded.

She passed Mess on the steps as she headed downstairs, and the newsboy grinned at her.

“’Ey Rubes.”

“Hey Mess,” she murmured.

“’E’s in da parlour,” Mess indicated the room behind him and grinned more. Ruby nodded vaguely.

“Thanks.” Had to be Memphis. He was the only one of the crew who wouldn’t have just come on up to the bunkroom. He had some strange ideas about propriety. She stepped past Mess, into the parlour, and stopped short.

The boy standing awkwardly in the middle of the room was not blonde and sunburnt, with broad shoulders and a Southern drawl. He was tall and thin, with dark eyes watching her warily from behind a familiar pair of wire rimmed glasses.

“Oh.”

“I - ” He started to speak, but was cut off by the parlour door slamming shut, and the horrendously loud click of the lock as it slid home.

“What the - ” Ruby began, turning back. A hysterical giggle bubbled up in her throat as she twisted the knob, only to find the door was, of course, locked. “Oh my Lord,” she whispered, the giggle fading as she realized what was happening. “You’ve got to be jokin’….”

A chuckle filtered in from the hallway, accompanied by a jangle of keys. Tears sprang to her eyes and Ruby felt her face flame. “Mess Anthony, you open this door this instant!” She didn’t think she’d ever been so humiliated in her entire life.

“It wasn’t my idea!” Mess called back. Ruby bit her lip, resting her forehead against the cool wood and fighting not the burst into mortified tears.

“Please don’t do this to me,” she whispered, inaudibly. She heard footsteps behind her and straightened away from the door, desperately blinking back the tears. She backed away as Four Eyes moved closer. He glanced at her, then quickly away.

“Doze?”

Another jingle of keys.

“Yeah?”

“Doze Malone, I swear - ” the words faded and she swallowed over the lump in her throat. She knew they were only trying to help, but –

“Doze, open da door,” Four Eyes sighed, and Ruby flinched.

“Why should I?”

“Yeah, heaven forbid he spends two seconds alone in me presence,” she muttered, turning away. She’d never felt the sting of rejection before in her life, and she’d never imagined it could hurt this much. Four Eyes looked at her, then dropped his eyes as she sank onto the seatee and curled her legs under her skirt. He didn’t speak, and she exhaled, trying not to cry.

“Might as well sit down, we could be here a while,” she muttered. Rather than join her on the seatee, Four Eyes moved across the room and sat down in front of the dusty old piano. He sat, staring at the keys for what felt like an eternity. Finally, unable to bear the silence a moment longer, Ruby asked, “Do ya play?”

He looked up, obviously startled by the question. “Nah.”

“Oh,” she whispered, dropping her own gaze back to her clasped hands. Thanks a lot, Mess an’ Doze, this is really helpin’.

Silence drew out again. The beats between the ticking of the clock seemed like hours. Ruby reflected ironically that she could say anything, get away with anything, make any other boy in the world want her, except this one. The only one she – dammit.

As if in answer to her thoughts, Four Eyes abruptly slammed a fist down on the keys in a crash of tangled notes. Ruby jumped a mile, startled by the noise, and watched as he stood up, only to slide down the wall to sit against it on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, resting his head in his hands.

Anger faded into sympathy, and she bit her lip. “Ya didn’t do nuthin’ to be sorry for,” she replied quietly.

“I’m good at doin’ nuthin’.” Almost bitterly.

So do something!

“What ya do is yer choice,” she offered. It was intended to come out gently, as a reassurance, but even to her own ears it didn’t; there was the mildest hint of reproach in it.

“I don’t need nobody tellin’ me dat,” he shot back.

Oh, for heaven’s sake.

“What I meant was if ya don’t wanna do nuthin’ then you can do sumthin’ - oh, never mind!” she sighed in frustration.

They lapsed back into silence, and again Ruby found herself struggling to hold back tears. Make it stop, she pleaded silently. Make me stop caring about him so I can stop feeling this way. It hurts, it hurts too much. I don’t want to do it anymore. Make it go away.

“Dammit, Four Eyes, don’t be an ass!” Mess’ voice filtered in from the hallway and Ruby sighed again, glaring at the door. If they’d just give up and let them out, it wouldn’t be a problem anymore, now would it?

More silence, then, “Are ya cold?”

She looked up at the whispered question and shrugged. It was chilly in the parlour, without a fire in the grate, and her dress wasn’t the warmest she owned. What did it matter? What was he going to do, come and keep her warm? That was laughable.

“Look, dis is what ya get wit’ me!” Four Eyes went on. “I - ” he stopped. “I’m sorry.”

AUGH!

“Would you stop sayin’ yer sorry, please?” she begged quietly. Her nerves were frayed through and she was afraid the next time he apologized she was going to start crying and never stop.

Four Eyes shrugged, then moved to his feet. She watched in silence as he crossed the floor and dropped his coat over her shoulders. He nearly ran back across the room as she closed her eyes briefly.

“Yer the one who jus’ got over bein’ sick,” she reminded him, shrugging the threadbare garment off and holding it back out to him. He made no move to retrieve it, and with another sigh, she slid off the seatee and took it back to him. “You are the darndest person, I swear,” she muttered.

She returned to her place on the divan and hugged her knees to her chest.

“Ruby,” a voice called from outside. “I wanna tell ya sumthin’ about a friend a’ mine-”

“Doze!” Four Eyes scrambled to his feet, his expression horrified. Ruby blinked and stood too, confused.

“What was ‘e gonna say?” she asked when there was continued silence from the hallway. Four Eyes only shook his head wordlessly. Frustration boiled over – she couldn’t bear another moment of this! “Doze Malone, you let us out right now!” she slammed a palm to the door’s wooden surface and choked on her tears. “Whatever you thought ya was gonna accomplish ain’t ever gonna happen, so open up!”

Still silence.

Please? I can’t bear this anymore.

Taking a deep breath, fighting to hide her hurt, she turned back around to face Four Eyes. “What a way to spend a Saturday night, huh?” she tried to grin and fell somewhat short.

“Ruby,” Four Eyes began, then faltered.

“What?” she prompted when he remained silent.

“I ain’t no good at dis…” he finally murmured and Ruby had to quirk a half smile.

“Ya seem ta be under the impression that ya ain’t no good at a lot a’ things,” she teased softly.

“Everythin’ I got, I got from you,” he whispered, his gaze fixed on the scuffed cedar floorboards beneath his feet. “So what’s I s’posed ta do?”

She swallowed, unable to think of an answer to that. “Ya do what ya wanna do,” she finally murmured.

“What I want - ” he stopped. “Always seems ta hoit people. Not dat dat’s anythin’ new,” he added, and for the first time, she glimpsed the intense guilt that was hiding behind his eyes.

“The person yer hurtin’ most is ya’self, love,” she offered gently. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she clenched her fists in the folds of her skirt and refrained. Somehow she doubted it would go over well.

“Yer sayin’ dis don’t hurt ya?” he demanded, gesturing around the room. She flinched.

“Yes, it hurts me,” she whispered. “It hurts me a lot, but what hurts me most is the fact that ya just seem ta keep hurtin’ ya’self.”

“I can’t seem ta exist wit’out doin’ dat,” he replied, almost desperately. “Dat’s what Doze was gonna tell ya. Dat I don’t wanna.” His tone made her want to cry, even if the full meaning of his words eluded her complete comprehension. “So what <.i>use ,” he went on, “ can I be ta anyone else when I ain’t even any use ta meself?” He stopped and took a shaky breath. “So I can’t win.”

Oh, sugar –

Her heart ached for him.

“Four Eyes,” she began, but couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He turned away from her, and she got the impression he thought he’d revealed too much.

“Doze, open da damn door.”

“I can’t convince ya of yer own worth if ya can’t believe it ya’self,” Ruby managed to whisper. “But I do care about ya. Dat ain’t gonna change.”

“I don’t want it to,” he replied, leaning on the door. “I wanna - ” he stopped and a silence fell that was somehow less tyrannical than it had been before. “I wanna – make some sense outta meself, so I can…” he paused. “If ya want me, I’ll be heah, but I can’t do nothin’ else.” Another pause. “I would…” Ruby nodded slightly, biting her lip, staring at the floor because if she looked at him, she’d cry as she struggled to sort through his fractured sentences and half finished thoughts. “It’s open,” he finally said, referring to the door, and although she supposed she ought to feel relieved, all she felt was a strange sort of disappointment.

Taking a breath, she looked up and met his eyes. Her lips twitched into a crooked, rueful smile. “Do you wanna smack Doze or should I?”

To her amazement, he smiled back.

“You betta,” he replied. “He’s too much of a gentleman ta hit back.”

She found herself laughing softly at that, a bit of the heaviness lifting from her heart.

They stood there for a moment, awkwardly, then Four Eyes shrugged out of his coat again and placed it around her shoulders. Ruby glanced down at it and smiled slightly. “You’d better keep it, love,” she said, looking up at him. “Yer the one goin’ outside.” She smiled at him again, trying to make sense of her bittersweet emotions.

“I want ya to - ”

“Don’t be difficult,” she admonished, slipping the garment off and pressing it back into his hands. “It’s cold out.”

Four Eyes didn’t argue, and pulled the coat on obediently. Another beat, then he leaned forward and touched a brief, feather light kiss to her forehead. Something surged inside her, and Ruby bit her lip.

“Good night,” she whispered. He smiled back shyly.

“Good night.”

She stayed in the parlour and listened as his footsteps retreated through the foyer, then as the front door opened and closed. When she was sure she was alone, she sank back down on the seatee and finally let herself cry. But somehow, the tears weren’t of anger or humiliation or hurt. They were of something else entirely.

More to come...stay tuned!