“Hey, shouldn’t you be taking it easy? Let me do that,” Mark insisted, picking up the last personal items still scattered around Ruby’s hospital room.

She had been reaching for a book on the bedside table, trying to grab it with her right hand out of habit. Her fingers trembled at the effort, having trouble clenching and unclenching.

“I can do it,” she snapped at the man who used to be her partner, growing frustrated.

Mark stilled for a moment, his wide, square face scrunching up. He was one of those cops that looked scary as hell, with his bulky frame, wide shoulders and thick arms. The closely cropped hair and tattoos didn’t help much, either.

But he was actually a teddy bear, and the best partner anyone could hope for.

Once upon a time he had been more than that, but it quickly became obvious they were better off as friends. Their brief attempt at a relationship was more due to convenience than anything else, anyway.

Being a cop made romance hard. No one wanted to spend their nights waiting up for someone who might never come home. With gang violence escalating lately, police officers were often the ones caught in the middle.

Yet, as much as recent events had illustrated how she was missing a partner off the clock, Ruby didn’t have any regrets. She loved being a cop too much for that.

“Sorry,” Ruby quickly said, plopping down to sit on the edge of her bed.

The room smelled of disinfectant, and the door was open, with nurses and doctors passing by every few moments. This had been her home for several weeks, and she had hated every second of it.

‘Helpless’ was not an adjective anyone ever used to describe Ruby Danvers, and she was damn proud of that. But lying here, unable to do shit, waiting for doctors to come to a conclusion on whether she’d ever be able to hold a gun again, she felt more powerless than ever.

It was hard not to become bitter. Being a cop was all she’d ever known, and all she wanted to do. There was talk of physical therapy, of a chance for her to regain some semblance of dexterity.

But not nearly enough for her to go out on active duty ever again. The nerve damage was too extensive, and she’d just be a liability for other cops who didn’t have to struggle to hold a plastic cup or brush their teeth in the morning.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Mark replied, grabbing the book she had been reaching for and tucking it into her duffel bag. “I can’t imagine how tough this is for you. But you’ll adjust. It just takes time.”

“Yeah. But how much time will it take for people to believe me?” Ruby countered, unable to put her sour mood aside.

“It’s not that they don’t believe you,” Mark argued, and Ruby did her best not to scoff at the placating tone of his voice. “You were the victim of a vicious attack. You were an inch away from bleeding to death. No one expects you to have perfect recollection of that night.”

“No, I don’t have perfect recollection. But I remember enough. And don’t call me a victim,” she replied, reaching down to pull on her boots.

Once they were on, though, she was left to glare at the laces hanging on either side of the boots, as if they were taunting her somehow. Mark caught the look.

“Guess you’re going to have to invest in some Velcro sneakers, huh?” he asked with a raised brow, and despite her seriously ill mood, Ruby couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re an ass,” she said, grinning at him.

“And you’re a badass and you’re going to get through this,” Mark replied, moving to place a hand on her shoulder before thinking better of it.

“I did shoot him three times, Mark,” she said quietly, after a moment’s thought. “There were three rounds missing from my gun.”

Mark didn’t look especially enthusiastic about discussing this further.

“You were disoriented and scared,” he sighed. “Who knows where those bullets went.”

I know where they went, Ruby thought, but didn’t say aloud.

From her initial statement when she regained consciousness, she could see her story was seen as farfetched at best. Even her injuries didn’t seem to match up, as doctors confirmed human teeth were not sharp enough to cause the sort of damage she had on her neck and shoulder. They didn’t seem to be able to agree on what did cause the injuries, though.

In any case, she had been extremely lucky. The blonde woman she had intended to help, a preschool teacher named Sarah, didn’t fare so well. She had choked on her own blood before the paramedics even arrived.

That was something Ruby would always carry with her. Could she have done something differently, was there a scenario where Sarah could have lived?

She knew there was no use in driving herself crazy with what-ifs, but she still couldn’t help the thoughts popping into her head.

There were a couple of moments of weakness, when she had started questioning her sanity, and her recollection of the events of that night. It wasn’t easy to stay true to what you knew when everyone kept bringing up reasons why you shouldn’t trust your own memories.

“You ready to go home?” Mark asked, bending down to tie her boots.

“God, yes,” she sighed, putting on a smile for her friend.

Mark had already made his mind up about what happened to Ruby, and she knew there was no use arguing with him. He had been a very good friend to her, and bickering with him was no way to show her gratitude.

So she let him grab her bag and walk her downstairs, where they got into his squad car and he drove her home. The streets of New York whizzed by as Ruby spent the drive staring out the window. It felt good to be back in the world, despite the fact she now had no idea what she was going to do with her life.

When Mark pulled up to her apartment complex, they both sat in silence for a few seconds.

“I’ll walk you upstairs, help you get settled in,” Mark offered.

“No thanks,” she replied. “I need to figure out how to handle things on my own,” she said, using her left hand to grab her duffel bag from the backseat. “And you need to get back to work. Who’s gonna keep the streets safe, if not you?”

Mark gave her a wistful smile as she climbed out of the car and clumsily waved goodbye to him. Walking over to the building, she listened to the vehicle idle at the curb as she got out her keys and stepped inside.

Hearing Mark pull away, she climbed up the stairs and made her way to a familiar blue door on the third floor. Unlocking it, she walked inside, dropping her bag on the floor. The place still looked the same as ever, small yet cozy, if only a bit dustier than she remembered.

When she shut the door behind her and walked into the living room, however, she sensed something was off. Before she could even react to the hint of movement from her peripheral vision, a man stepped out of her kitchen, holding a glass in his hand and swishing around the brown liquid inside.

“You have terrible taste in scotch, you know,” he said, frowning at the drink.

“Who the hell are you and why are you in my apartment?” Ruby demanded, already backing away toward the door.

This man was definitely someone she had never seen before. His dark hair almost reached his shoulders, framing his face perfectly and softening his chiseled jaw and sharp features. With a straight nose and high cheekbones, he definitely wasn’t bad to look at, as far as intruders went.

When his bright green eyes snapped to her and a smile spread over his full lips, Ruby could have sworn there was something oddly familiar about his voice.

“Why, I’m your future husband, of course.”