Page 32 of Ruin

And then the door swished open.

Exhaling shakily, she ushered the bot inside, then closed and locked the door behind them.

“Gods, that was stressful,” she croaked, slumping back against the door.

“Zzr bikbik.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, on the bed, please.”

The bot deposited Ruin onto the mattress with the utmost care. As soon as it stepped back, she moved to his side, immediately seeking the pulse point on his neck. Still steady.

Lira brushed her fingers over his cheek, tracing the familiar lines of his scars, noting how his harsh features had softened in unconsciousness. At least he didn't appear to be in any pain.

“Please be okay,” she whispered.

A series of soft clicks and whirs drew her attention back to find the bot’s head tilted, antennae twitching.

“He's alright. Just unconscious. An assassin poisoned him, but he said it's non-lethal.” The words felt hollow and did little to ease the knot of worry in her stomach.

The bot gave a low, sympathetic beep.

“Me too.” She sucked in an excited breath. “Hey, can you monitor him? Track his life signs and alert me if anything changes?”

“Sspop!”

“Oh, that’s amazing. Thank you.”

Realizing there was nothing more she could do but wait and hope whoever Ruin had called for backup arrived soon, she pulled a chair up next to the bed, determined to keep watch until he woke.

One hand rested on his chest, finding comfort in the steady rise and fall. The other clutched one of the knives he'd given her, ready to defend them both if needed.

Minutes ticked by. The silence pressed in, and her eyes burned with exhaustion, but she fought against the heaviness of her lids.

Lira jolted awake,blinking heavily and looking around, trying to figure out what had disturbed her. The door was still closed and the bot… was pointing at the bed?

Whipping around, she gasped. “You’re awake!”

Ruin’s eyes, usually so bright and alert, were hazy and unfocused. Sweat beaded on his pale skin, making the black tattoos stand out even more starkly.

Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch his face. “You're burning!”

His lips moved, but no sound came out. He tried again, his voice a hoarse rasp. “Water.”

“Of course, of course.”

She scrambled off the chair. Her legs felt wobbly, pins and needles prickling through her muscles from sitting so long. She stumbled to the small table, grabbing one of the drink tubes from the pile.

Hurrying back to the bed, she almost spilled the water in her haste.

He gulped greedily, droplets running down his chin. When he finished, he fell back against the pillow, chest heaving.

Lira perched on the edge of the bed, her hand finding his.

“Fuck,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut briefly before squinting at the bot in the corner. “The hells is that?”

“I found it. I couldn’t carry you, so I fixed it and it carried you back here for me.”

With effort, he raised his arm and focused blearily on his sub-dermal implant. Whatever he saw there made him relax back against the bed.

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