Archive of Our Own ^beta

Her hearing fades before her sight does— words becoming muffled and sounds blending into white noise in her ears. Black creeps in around the edge of her vision, and then her knees buckle, and that’s it— she’s gone.

Ruby comes to under a tree, a water droplet plinking off the leaves and landing on her cheek. The rest of her team are speaking in hushed tones, but she hardly registers it, not when her body refuses to respond.

She wants to scream. To cry. She wants to take the world in her hands and tear it apart. It’s not fair.

(She only just got her back)

Another drop of water falls onto Ruby’s face, and she knows it should be freezing cold, but she hardly feels it through the numbness creeping up through her body.

Penny’s gone.

And just like last time, Ruby wasn’t able to say goodbye, trapped in another fight and too far away to help.

There aren’t any tears burning behind her eyes. There’s no yell trapped in her throat. Just an all-encompassing emptiness.

Maybe there’s a spark of rage in her chest, burning at the injustice of it all. Ruby has always fought for the world, fought for what she believed in, but the longer the fighting goes, the less there is to fan that flame.

She’s tired. She wants to curl back up into a ball and fall asleep again until this nightmare is over.

Ruby drags her fingertips through the dirt underneath her, but can’t feel the grains catch under her nails.

Still, she has to do what she’s always done— keep moving forward. So she forces herself back together again, piece by piece, tuning into the conversation her teammates are having.

“Everyone– Vacuo…” Yang’s voice is questioning, bordering on annoyed. “ —where Neo-?”

“Neo’s here too.” Ruby finally forces her eyes open, coming face-to-face with Little, waving a leaf in their tiny paws like a fan. It’s sweet, but Ruby can’t find it in herself to appreciate the gesture, pushing herself upright, shrugging off Yang when she tries to help.

It feels as if all the energy in her body was drained at once. The words feel heavy in her mouth, like they’re not quite her own. “She attacked me when we were falling.”

She thinks Yang asks something, but the words don’t quite make it through the haze around her shoulders.

It’s raining, and it should be cold and stinging, but there’s nothing.

She can’t feel anything.

(Not physically, not emotionally).