Work Text:
Ruskin watched his employer with a worried look in his eyes. Charles Augustus Milverton tried to keep his calm facade like he was not as bothered by the failure of his evil plan as he really was, and he would have been able to fool his other subordinates, but not Ruskin. He was Mr. Milverton's personal secretary, his closest employee for years. Mr. Milverton only trusted him completely, but even with that, he didn't like showing emotions in front of Ruskin. Ruskin could see them well - the anger, the worry, the disappointment - but he didn't bring them up. He let Mr. Milverton believe that he was blind to his current mood and didn't even notice how many negative energies he was radiating, making the otherwise comforting atmosphere of the office hard to bear.
"It is nothing, Ruskin." Mr. Milverton spoke and Ruskin could hear that he desperately tried to sound confident. "I can still turn the tide. I just need to come up with a plan B... a plan B... a plan B..." he kept repeating the words like he forgot about that Ruskin was still in the room. Ruskin hated nothing more than seeing his beloved employer in such a frustrated state and he couldn't even say something comforting to him without hurting his pride. So he just stood there and watched as Mr. Milverton kept murmuring it. Plan B. Plan B.
He suddenly hit his head and at the same time, his face turned into a grimace. Ruskin could recognize the sign well. It was one of the symptoms of that strange headache Mr. Milverton kept getting when he was extremely worried about something. Ruskin wanted to tell him that he shouldn't think of plan Bs for now and just go and rest or take a warm bath, but he was aware that his employer wouldn't obey anyway. Now only one thing was in his mind. To solve the situation he needed to face and take revenge. He didn't even let Ruskin help in the plotting when he normally assisted his employer in his evil plans. He expected that he would soon get sent out of the room - but before it happened, he made a suggestion, the only way he was allowed to give comfort to Mr. Milverton.
"Would you like to drink tea, sir, while you come up with a plan B?"
It took a few seconds until the question got to Mr. Milverton's mind, but it was able to drag him out of the repetition. He looked into Riskin's eyes and slowly nodded.
"Yes. Thank you."
He sounded grateful - but this was soon taken over by the worry and frustration. He clenched his fist and his breathing became wheezing. His need to control everything cost his health and Ruskin couldn't do anything to make him realize this. He couldn't even do anything else to help. He turned around and left the story with slow steps and a heavy heart. The only thing he could do to make Mr. Milverton feel better was tea.
And it was a pain to accept.