Veneration of Dreams // Ransom Drysdale

eight // safest in solitude

Katarina's body tensed as the sound of skin striking skin succeeded the cocky voice in her ear. She jumped to the side as Ransom shoved her attacker into an adjoining table, watching his elbow land somewhere on a plate of leftovers. When the man slumped forward, she turned to him in shock, noting uncharacteristic worry in his eyes but unsure what to do with this information. She was grateful for him, yes, but she doubted this saviour complex would last.

"Where did you learn to fight?"

Ransom ignored her.

"You alright?" He asked but the click of a switchblade brought his attention back to the stranger. The bar fell silent. Then it roared.

In a matter of seconds, chaos erupted across the room. Several people ran for the exits while others huddled in their seats. Katarina's feet carried her forward on instinct but watching Ransom enter the fray before her and noting her own intoxicated stumble, she hesitated.

To her surprise, he was fast. With skills she didn't know he had, Ransom caught the man's armed hand by the shoulder and held his head down, kneeing him repeatedly in the chest. Soon, the knife clattered onto the tiles, followed by Ransom's body and his assailant planted firmly on top of him. His closed fist went flying in her partner's direction and Katarina jumped forward to help as a gunshot blasted through the air.

"That's enough!" Shouted the bartender, readying his shotgun, "Get out of here. Go!"

The drunk slackened and Ransom thrust him off with a snarl, scrambling to his feet. He teetered once before losing his balance, crashing into a bar stool and then, to the floor before Katarina could help. She hurried to him, checking his tall frame for visible injuries before extending an open palm in the hopes that he would suck up his pride and take it.

"You're bloody heavy." She murmured when he finally did.

"Are you calling me fat?" Ransom asked, shifting more weight onto his feet as they shuffled to the open door. Neither one of them dared to look back at the drunk or the bartender. They had gathered enough attention as it was.

"I just...didn't expect so much under all that...Versace." She said, flicking his corner store outfit with her pointer finger, "Don't worry, I'm sure it's all muscle."

Ransom scoffed, detaching himself from her arm as he searched his pocket for the car keys. He was exhausted and the disorientation combined with his drinking spurned nausea but her comments amused him enough that he'd consider doing it again. Not that he'd let her know that.

"What else would it be?" He said, withdrawing a sticky keychain with disgust. Not one day on the road and he already regretted trading in her Chrysler. If he knew the alternative was this bad, he would have risked keeping it.

"You're injured, I'll drive." Katarina interrupted but Ransom stepped in her way, placing his hand flat against the car door.

"You're drunk. Remember, officer."

"And I still know better than to fight a guy who looks like he belongs on WWE."

"Yeah, or The Biggest Loser," Ransom replied, pulling the door ajar and sliding in before she could. As he slammed it shut, she stared at him in disbelief and for a moment, he thought she was about to throw a fit but the sound of her laugh surprised him. It was a pleasant sound and strangely, it reminded him how long it had been since he last saw a genuine smile. He found himself mirroring her expression as she circled the car and sat down, shaking her head. They sat there for a while, trapped in gentle silence until the sound of sirens rang in the distance.

"Why are you still here?" He asked, trying to sound nonchalant as he reversed out of the lot and onto the highway.

Katarina took her time to respond but for whatever reason, he found himself waiting wordlessly. Impatience wouldn't help him here, not like it had in the past.

"You were right to be suspicious earlier. I was going to run off. Escape, I guess, but something stopped me. I can't stop thinking about Maroni. There's a reason he shot at me, Hugh. Not at you, not around me, not accidentally, but at me, over and over, like he wanted to kill me and...I know it has to do with that video which means it has something to do with my dad. It has to. Then there's you. I don't know what it is but you know something, Hugh. There's something you're not telling me and I can't risk getting caught until I know what." She said. Most of it was true.

As the traffic slowed, Ransom glanced at her. She sat facing the window so he wouldn't see the glimmer of tears on her cheek but he noticed them nonetheless. As much as he tried not to feel anything, to keep up the guise of selfish indifference he knew so well, he felt a tendril of regret worm its way into his heart. She was right. He knew that but when he spoke, it was with his usual coldness, as if nothing had changed.

"Call me Ransom, you may as well." He said, the closest to comfort he could get.

For once the atmosphere was calm between them and he relished the silence although or perhaps because he knew it wouldn't last.

"You have to tell me, Ransom. If you know something about him, you have to tell me now. I won't forgive you if you don't."

Ransom tightened his grip on the wheel.

"I don't know anything, Katarina," He sneered, "And I would never need your forgiveness."

He lied.

They both did.

a/n

hey! vote if you want ransom to visit you in your dreams or whatever lmao what