I finished GLOW and had Thoughts re:Debbie/Ruth so I decided to write one of my Fleetwood Mac drabbles about it. This is for #8.
Would you stay if she promised you heaven?
Ruth Wilder has always been an inevitability for her.
Debbie’s still coming to terms with what exactly that means for them. No matter how she twists this, Ruth is there, tethered to Debbie, dragging all their fucking baggage along with her.
Because the truth about Ruth is she never, ever, lets Debbie forget. Their ugly, battered history is waiting on Ruth’s lips. In her eyes, Debbie sees every failure, every disappointment, every single time she couldn’t measure up. Ruth wears Debbie’s scars on her skin. They’re jagged pieces, too broken, too sharp to fit together in any semblance of whole anymore.
But this life, this crazy, difficult, fucked-up, incredible life she has is all because of Ruth. And she couldn’t do any second of this without her.
“I’m going to build us an Eden,” Debbie swears, promises pouring out of her. This is better than any high she’s ever felt - it’s right up there with the first time she climbed into the ring, listening to the crowd chanting her name, airborne for a few glorious moments before landing safely in Ruth’s embrace.
She pulls Ruth into her, arms squeezing tight, holding on. They might not fit together exactly right anymore, but they’ll always belong together.
So of course Ruth goes and fucks up all her carefully laid plans. She has a real knack for tumbling Debbie’s pyramid-card life.
They don’t speak until New Years Eve. It’s some ridiculous party, a friend of a friend of a friend or whatever, and Debbie goes because she doesn’t have anything else to do. A surprising side effect of trading her boyfriend for an empire is her suddenly empty social calendar.
She didn’t know Ruth was going to be there, didn’t even realize she was back in LA. She shimmers in her simple silver dress, so different from the extravagant crushed velvet Debbie squeezed herself into. Ruth never needed all that glitz to draw attention. Ruth just is, and people are drawn to that.
Debbie unsuccessfully avoids Ruth for most of the night. She drinks until her head is floating, until it stops hurting to breathe and she stops remembering standing alone in an airport, heart broken and shaking.
Ruth, being Ruth, finds her eventually, putting on her meak and bashful show, dancing around what she really wants to say. Debbie’s more champagne than person at the moment, and their whole game is suddenly, desperately exhausting.
“Listen,” Debbie says, eyes landing everywhere but Ruth’s face. She can’t look at Ruth and see that softly pitying expression again. It’s all she’s seen every night, laying in bed and missing the sound of Ruth sleeping next to her. “Don’t leave. The show needs you. I need you.” There’s a lump in her throat catching the words as she forces them out. “I can’t do this without you.” Her eyes sting, but her mascara is not waterproof, and she’s not going to ruin her look for something as pathetic as crying over Ruth Wilder. Again.
“Oh, Debbie,” Ruth grabs her hand, and she can’t resist the pull anymore. Ruth isn’t wearing makeup, face bare and honest as she grins at Debbie. Her eyes big and wet. “Of course you can. You’ve made all this happen on your own. You’re the smartest person I know.” Ruth shakes their intertwined hands. “You don’t need anyone.”
Debbie nods, treacherous tears escaping down her cheeks. “Maybe,” she admits with a shake of her head, “but I don’t want to do this without you. I want you,” she cuts off to swallow thickly. “I am asking you, please stay.” It’s as close to the truth as she can get.
Around them, the countdown starts, drunken happy shouts as everyone jostles to find their person before midnight.
Ruth gasps, halfway between a laugh and a sob. Debbie smooths her free hand over Ruth’s cheeks. Ruth catches her wrist, holding on as the crowd around them bursts into celebration.
She lifts up on her toes, brushing her lips to the corner of Debbie’s mouth, the lightest, lingering sensation. It burns all the same. “I’ll always belong to you.”
