Chapter Text
For the first time in a long time, Ruby was scared for herself.
She has always considered herself self-efficient, always eager to start the day. She has never caught a cold, broken a bone, and has done her best to treat others the same way she wanted to be treated. Both of her parents were hunters, her favorite uncle in the entire universe was a hunter, Yang's mom was also a hunter, and Ruby herself was going to school taught by Ozpin himself. With such determination, energy, and impressive background, why should she be afraid for herself?
But she was, really was.
Her cell was only a fourth of the size of her room back in Beacon. She was surprised how small the bed was; she could barely fit in it. If this was the standard size, then what about the other prisoners here? The ones who were taller or heavier than her? There was no way they could ever sleep on this small bed.
There was a toilet in the corner with no seat, a grimy-looking sink, and she swore she saw a rat earlier. There wasn't even a window. Her cell was illuminated by a single bulb, occasionally flickering.
Somewhere down the hallway she heard a man scream.
Ruby hugged herself. Sometimes when Blake wasn't in the room, Ruby would secretly read from the books on Blake's shelf. ("You can always tell where the good parts are," Yang said to her after catching her in the act. "Let the book fall open naturally and it'll flip right to it.")
Sometimes in those novels the damsel in distress would be ravished by the villian. Ruby was old enough to understand the fear of finding oneself in such a situation. Whenever she noticed an older man looking at her in a way that wasn't innocent, she always thought back to what her uncle Qrow once said to her: "Ruby, if a guy ever touches you in a way you don't like, you do this."
And then he proceeded to pantomime grabbing something and ripping it off. (Followed by throwing that something upon the floor, stomping on it, and then hysterically laughing his head off.)
Ruby had no idea if she was brought here to be used for that particular reason. Her kidnappers didn't exactly give her a reason why they grabbed her. She was down by the river, her arms full of clothes. She had volunteered herself to do some washing while the rest of team JNPR gathered wood for fire.
(The rest of the team, minus one-)
She had her scythe, and the others were not far. Ruby thought she was safe. She was only washing clothes, not exactly a situation she thought would put her in danger. The attack came quick, catching her off guard. Before she could stand, before she could even drop Ren's wet shirt, she felt a prick on the side of her neck, and then all she knew was darkness.
When she woke up, she was here, in this dingy cell. They took her scythe from her and they took her cloak. A few times she called out into the hall, asking why she was here and why. No one answerd her. She wasn't alone in this place, she could hear movement and the voices of others, but the language they spoke was foreign to her.
Worse, she was getting hungry and thirsty, and there was no way in heck was she going to drink from that dirt-covered sink.
She ended up drinking from the sink two hours later. The water was thankfully clean and it didn't taste funny. Now all she needed was some food. Surely her captors didn't grab her only to starve her? That would suck.
Ruby walked up to the cell bars again. "Hey!" She cried out into the hallway. Her voice echoed. "I'm hungry!"
The odd atmosphere of strange people talking and confusing noises continued. No one answered her.
Just as she opened her mouth to call out again, the unmistakable sound of a door opening was heard. The door needed oil because the result squeal of metal sent shivers down Ruby's spine. Heavy footsteps came towards her and Ruby stepped back from the bars.
Four very large, very intimidating-looking men came into view. For a horrifying second, Ruby thought this was it, this was the moment she feared. She was not going down without a fight. She was going to bite and scratch and tear off all the things Uncle Qrow told her to tear off. She bent her legs, readying herself, when she noticed the fifth man.
He was limp, held up by his arms. Two men dragged him across the floor, his boots gathering dust and debris like the world's worst broom. The man had dirty red hair and his suit was torn in several places.
One of the men pointed his weapon at Ruby. "Back away from the door, little girl. I won't hesitate disabling you."
Ruby believed him. With her hands up in a placating manner, she took a couple steps back.
With the gun still trained on her, the fourth man opened the door to allow the other two to drag in the limp man. They quickly placed him on the ground, face down, and swiftly left the cell.
"Um..." Ruby pointed to the suspiciously possible dead man. "You're not going to leave him here, are you?"
They ignored her, closed the cell door and locked it.
"You guys are jerks!"
She heard their steps echo away, followed by the intense screech of the door.
The man on the floor had yet to move.
"Don't be dead," Ruby begged quietly. Slowly she bent down on her knees and reached out to the man to turn him over. "Don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead-"
With a grunt, she turned him over.