The train rattled steadily through the winding valleys of Patch, its whistle echoing off familiar hills as evening crept in and the sky shifted from gold to indigo. Ruby Rose sat by the window, her knees tucked up to her chest, her chin resting on folded arms. The countryside sped pastârolling fields, clusters of wildflowers, the occasional silhouette of a windmillâand each landmark tugged at memories sheâd tucked away for years.
After everythingâAtlas, Vacuo, the battles and heartbreaks and victories that felt both impossibly distant and painfully freshâshe was coming home. Not for a mission, not to regroup, but simply because she could. Because for the first time in what felt like forever, there was space to breathe. To rest. To be Ruby again.
The seat beside her was empty, at least for the moment. Oscar had gone to fetch tea from the dining car, promising to return before the next tunnel. Ruby smiled at the thoughtâhe was always so earnest, so determined to do things right, even the smallest things. She glanced at the reflection in the glass: her own face, older than she remembered, a little scarred, a little wiser. And behind her, Oscarâs coat slung over the seat, a silent promise that she wasnât alone.
She closed her eyes, letting herself drift. The gentle sway of the train was soothing. She remembered other journeysâleaving Patch for Beacon, running through Valeâs streets with Yang, standing at the prow of an airship as Mistral appeared through the clouds. Sheâd always been moving, always chasing the future or running from the past. But tonight felt different. Tonight, she was coming back to where it all began.
The door slid open and Oscar returned, balancing two steaming mugs. âGot your favorite,â he announced, settling beside her. He handed her a cupâblack tea with a little honey, just the way she liked it. Their fingers brushed and lingered for a moment longer than necessary.
âThanks, Oscar,â she murmured, taking a careful sip. The warmth spread through her, chasing away the last of the trainâs chill.
They sat in companionable silence, watching dusk descend over the landscape. Oscar glanced at her, a small smile playing at his lips. âYouâre quiet. Not like you.â
Ruby chuckled, nudging him with her shoulder. âGuess Iâm just⊠soaking it in. I canât believe itâs real, you know? Itâs been so long since Iâve seen Patch. Since Iâve seen Dad, ZweiâYangâs probably already there, waiting to tackle me.â
Oscarâs eyes softened. âYou deserve a homecoming, Ruby.â
She shrugged, setting her mug on the little fold-down table. âWe all do. You too, you know.â
He looked out the window, his expression thoughtful. âI never really had a place like this. The farm was home, sure, but⊠it never felt like I fit. After everything that happened, after meeting you and the others, I think I realized home isnât just a place. Itâsââ He hesitated, searching for the words, ââitâs where youâre wanted. Where people care if you come back.â
Rubyâs heart squeezed. She reached over, sliding her hand into his. âYouâll always have a place with us. With me.â
Their fingers entwined, and the silence that followed was comfortable, full of things unsaid but deeply understood.
The train slowed as it neared the station, the lights of Patch twinkling through the trees. Ruby leaned forward, face pressed to the glass, searching for familiar shapesâthe old water tower, the winding main street, the flicker of lanterns from the bakery. Everything was smaller than she remembered, but no less dear.
The conductorâs voice called out, muffled and cheerful. Oscar helped her gather her thingsâher battered travel bag, his own modest pack, a paper-wrapped box of pastries for Taiyang, and a squeaky new chew toy for Zwei. They filed off the train into the cool night air, shoulders brushing.
The scent of pine and saltwater filled Rubyâs lungs, grounding her. The platform was nearly empty, but a familiar shape waited at the edge of the crowd: Taiyang, waving wildly, face split into a grin as wide as the moon.
âRUBY!â he shouted, gathering her in a bear hug that nearly lifted her from the ground. âWelcome home, kiddo!â
She hugged him back, laughing as tears pricked her eyes. âHi, Dad. Missed you.â
Taiyang set her down and turned to Oscar, offering a hand. âGood to see you again, Oscar.â
Oscar shook his hand, a little awkward but genuine. âThank you for having me, sir.â
âNone of that âsirâ stuff,â Taiyang insisted, clapping him on the shoulder. âYouâre family. Now letâs get you two home before your sister burns the house down.â
They piled into the old truck, Ruby and Oscar squeezed together in the cab. As Taiyang drove along the backroads, Ruby pressed her forehead to the glass, drinking in every twist and turn. The porch light was on when they arrived, casting golden pools across the yard. Zwei shot out of the darkness, barking madly, and Ruby dropped to her knees, ruffling his fur as he licked her face.
Yang burst from the front door, hair wild, tackle-hugging Ruby so hard they nearly toppled into the gravel. âYouâre late!â she scolded, then immediately softened, arms tightening. âIâm so glad youâre here.â
âIâm glad youâre here too, sis,â Ruby replied, voice thick.
Inside, the house was just as she rememberedâcluttered and cozy, walls lined with photos and half-finished projects. The kitchen smelled of bread and coffee, a pie cooling on the windowsill. Taiyang ushered them in, shoes off, voices low and warm.
They spent the evening around the kitchen table, swapping stories, filling in the gaps of months apart. Yang teased Oscar about his first attempt at Vacuo cuisine (âDonât worry, youâll get used to sand in your foodâ), and Taiyang made Ruby promise not to disappear on another world-saving quest without at least a postcard.
After dinner, as the others drifted off to bed, Ruby found herself standing on the back porch, mug of cocoa warming her hands. The stars were bright above the trees, and the old swing creaked in the breeze. Oscar joined her, wrapping his arms around himself against the chill.
âYou okay?â he asked softly.
She nodded, leaning into his side. âIâm justâŠhappy. It feels weird. Like I should be doing something more, butâŠmaybe itâs enough just to be here.â
Oscar smiled, bumping her shoulder. âYouâre allowed to rest, Ruby. Youâve earned it.â
She sipped her cocoa, letting the peace settle over her. âWhat about you? How does it feel, being here?â
Oscar hesitated, then looked at her, earnest and unguarded. âIt feels like starting over. Like maybeâI could belong somewhere after all. If thatâs okay with you.â
She set her mug down, turning to face him. âOscar, you belong with us. With me. Always.â
There was a long pause, the night sounds filling the quiet. Then, slowly, Oscar reached out, his hand trembling a little, and took hers. Ruby squeezed back, grounding them both.
They stood together, watching the moon rise beyond the pines.
The days that followed slipped by in a gentle blur of warmth and routine. Ruby woke to the smell of pancakes and the sound of Yang and Taiyang bickering over the crossword. She and Oscar helped Taiyang repair a broken fence, their laughter echoing across the field as they struggled with tangled wire and stubborn nails. Yang dragged them to the beach for an impromptu picnic, where they skipped stones and dared each other to brave the freezing surf. At night, they played board games by lamplight, Oscar and Ruby inevitably teaming upâeven when it meant losing spectacularly to Yangâs ruthless strategy.
Oscar settled in easily. He helped with dinner, learned to dodge Zweiâs excited leaps, and even let Taiyang teach him how to play guitarâa lesson that ended in fits of laughter when Oscarâs fingers got hopelessly tangled on the strings. He listened to Rubyâs stories about her mother, about old Beacon traditions, about the silly things she and Yang had done as kids.
Sometimes Ruby would catch him watching herânot just when she was talking, but in the quiet moments: watching her read on the porch, or sketching ideas for new weapons at the kitchen table, or simply watching the sunset. Each time, his gaze was soft, full of something she didnât quite have words for, but which made her heart beat faster nonetheless.
One afternoon, after the chores were finished and the house was quiet, Ruby slipped out to her old workshopâa shed in the backyard, cluttered with tools and half-assembled projects. She found Oscar there, examining a battered schematic for Crescent Roseâs original design.
He looked up as she entered, smiling sheepishly. âSorryâI was just curious. You really built this when you were a kid?â
She laughed, joining him at the workbench. âYeah. It took forever. I messed up the trigger assembly at least five times, and Yang nearly had a heart attack when I set the worktable on fire.â She brushed her fingers over the faded blueprints. âBut it was worth it. Building thingsâitâs how I make sense of the world.â
Oscar nodded, eyes shining with admiration. âI wish I had something like that. I was never much good at building. But I always liked fixing things on the farm. Thereâs something satisfying about making something broken work again.â
Ruby smiled softly. âYouâre good at fixing things, Oscar. Not just machines. People, too.â
He blushed, ducking his head. âIâm justâŠtrying to keep up with you.â
They worked together for a while, tinkering with an old gadget Yang had broken years ago. The sun slanted through the dirty windows, dust motes swirling in the beams. Their hands brushed often, and each time Ruby felt a jolt of warmth.
As evening fell, they wandered back to the porch, side by side. The air was cool, the world peaceful. Ruby glanced at Oscar, heart pounding.
âCan I ask you something?â she said quietly.
He nodded. âAnything.â
She hesitated, then spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. âDo you ever think aboutâŠwhat comes next? Not just for us, but for you. Where you want to go. Who you want to be.â
Oscar was silent for a long moment. Then he looked at her, resolve in his eyes. âI want to be with the people who matter. I want to build something goodâsomething that lasts. AndâŠI want to be with you, Ruby. If youâll have me.â
Her breath caught. For a moment, she could see all the roads aheadâuncertain, winding, full of shadows. But this moment was bright, clear, true.
She reached for his hand, entwining their fingers. âI want that too.â
He smiled, relief and joy warring on his face. He leaned in, hesitating only a second before pressing a gentle, tentative kiss to her lips.
The world faded awayâthe old porch, the distant sound of Yangâs laughter, the hush of the wind through the trees. There was only Oscar, steady and kind, and Ruby, brave and hopeful.
When they parted, she rested her forehead against his, laughing softly. âWelcome home, Oscar.â
He smiled, pulling her close. âHome.â
That night, they sat together beneath the stars, sharing stories, dreams, and quiet hopes for the future. The battles and burdens of the past felt lighter here, softened by love and belonging. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new adventures, but for now, they were simply Ruby and Oscarâtwo souls finding home in each other, surrounded by family, wrapped in the gentle peace of Patch.
And as Ruby drifted to sleep in her old bed, Oscarâs hand clasped in hers, she knewâno matter where the road led, she would carry this feeling with her forever. She was home. They both were.
