Work Text:
Walking into Ravi’s apartment in the evening of Bobby’s funeral, May briefly has to wonder what the hell he’s doing, working in a place like the fire department; her stepdad had mentioned, more than once, that Ravi was into some investment stuff. But May figured it was more like what her friends at school do; crypto, or renting out small properties to gradually upgrade themselves, not… this.
The building itself is relatively new, with smooth modern curves and loads of broad windows, every floor flooded with natural light. The security guard downstairs had greeted Ravi with a shake of his hand, and introduced himself to May, too, before stepping aside and letting them across to the glass elevators without any further questions.
Ravi had made a stop on the eleventh floor to poke his head in on an older woman named Olga, giving her a roll-pack of butterscotch candies and having to turn down her offer for dinner at least three times, promptly finding a way out the room when she’d started inquiring about May, who was still standing by the elevator waiting.
But beyond that, there’s this.
Walking in through a sleek, black glossed door, it’s an open space that greets them; to May’s left is a slim, dark grey couch with a velvety satin fabric and a matching armchair, an indigo throw blanket tossed across the ottoman. A black-stained timber coffee table with a chess board etched into its glass top sits in front of the couches, adorned with a neat holder for the TV remotes on one side, and a stack of purple, marble-patterned ceramic coasters.
To the right of the couch, in the far corner of the open space, is a timber dining table that matches its coffee counterpart in the black-stain colour. Six similarly dark chairs rest around it, each with a plush grey cushion seat, and a black-tinted vase in the centre has fresh flowers, an arrangement of lilacs, irises, purple mums, fairy statice and blue delphiniums creating an iridescent indigo tone.
On the far side from the door, the entire wall is made up of floor-to-ceiling window panels; there's an early evening glow of a coming sunset, orange and pretty over the skyline, toning the whole room. They’re framed by black plantation shutters, left open like the doors, reminding May of the castles in Disney movies.
In the right-hand corner of the room is a gorgeous kitchen, with a broad, black timber-based island and black-and-white granite benchtops and stools to sit at the island, a decent sized oven, and a high-end stovetop with a fire extinguisher tucked discreetly into a spot of its own, arms length from the oven and stove respectively.
To the direct right is a hallway, presumably branching off into bedrooms and bathrooms. All the walls are decorated with canvas artworks and black-framed photographs; most of them are of people May doesn’t know, but there are a few she can pick – a girl nearly identical to Ravi, who must be his older sister; a group of twenty-year-olds on what May knows to be the USC lawns, and the class from Ravi’s year at the FD academy. One of Ravi, Buck and Bobby, standing in a line with arms all around each others shoulders, that can’t have been taken more than a few months ago.
In short; it’s beautiful.
“Holy shit, Rav,” May practically breathes the words, stepping out into the space. Following Ravi’s lead, she toes off her sensible black heels delicately, tucking her purse into the small cubby at the close end of the hallway. “This place is incredible.”
Ravi glances around, giving a small smile. “My roommate from college designed it. He studied architecture and interior design, he helps me with all my properties. Guy’s got a raw talent like I’ve never seen, I swear.”
May nods, still looking around, eyes wide. “He did a, uh, really good job. This is awesome.”
“Yeah. He’s actually in, uh, Austin right now, overseeing one of my new places down there while the interior’s being done. His girlfriend manages the waitlist for us.”
“Waitlist?” May quirks a brow, walking across to the windows, looking out at the view. “There’s a waitlist for your properties?”
“Not, like– not for general renters.” Ravi says vaguely.
May shoots him a curious look, turning it over in her head. “What other kind of renters are there?”
“I have non-paying tenants.” Ravi shrugs; his words are said with pride, May can see it in the lift of his shoulders, the straightness of his spine, but he’s clearly trying to be modest about it all. “Like, people who can’t afford a decent place anywhere else. We place, like… families with young kids, or the elderly, or people in need of secure housing if they’re in an abusive situation, higher on the waitlist. There’s a lot of people who can’t get a place, so we have to…”
“Prioritise.” May grimaces; she understands that specific kind of frustration, when there’s so many problems and you can only fix a few at a time. It’s frustrating, trying to decide who’s more important; triaging calls during widespread emergencies was always her least favourite part of working at dispatch.
Ravi nods. “The whole thing is funded by the rent that normal tenants pay. This complex is pretty high-end, so I put the price at enough that I can keep doing what I’m doing, and then we have a quarter of the tenants not pay a cent until they’re up on their feet. And then obviously I live here free, so firefighting covers all my other costs. ”
“Wow. I mean, that’s pretty impressive, Ravi,” May turns back to him, tone honest. When they’d walked up to the building initially, with his surname etched into the doors, she’d been a little spooked.
Ravi just shrugs. “People need help. I have the chance to help them. And the money,” He adds, blowing out a breath. “When I was a kid, most of my parents money was spent on medical bills, so getting to this point was… insane.”
“Medical bills?” May takes a half-step forward.
“Yeah, uh. Well. I had cancer, as a kid.” Ravi says it slowly, like he’s forcing the words out. “And it came back when I was a teenager, and then I shook it off for good when I was sixteen. I originally started investing with the plan of doing something like this– I mean, a smaller scale, of course– for families with medical debt, or like, who had family in the hospital. But it expanded. That’s still the biggest focus, though. For me at least.” He adds.
“I didn’t know that, I’m sorry.” May says, sincere but not pitying. If the aftermath of her own medical history taught her anything, it’s that pity made things worse, not better.
Ravi glances up from where his eyes were fixed on his hands. “Thanks. It’s, uh. In the past now,” He says, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. “Cancer was nothing, anyway. Not on all the extra shit that comes with it,” Gesturing to his head, Ravi grimaces.
The quiet between them turns awkward, and suddenly, biting her tongue about it all doesn’t really feel like an option anymore. “I nearly died when I was thirteen.” May’s words roll together, blurting out, wincing at her own bluntness. “I mean, I– I tried to kill myself. And I spent a couple months in a psych ward, and then I went back when I was sixteen, and I– I went back in for a three-day hold the night that Dad died. Bobby, I mean.”
Stilling, Ravi’s brow creases. “I’m– I…”
“Yeah, too much.” May tugs out a dining chair, tossing herself onto it gently and resting one elbow on the table, her head sitting heavily on her hand. “Sorry. My point was, like– I get it. Not the actual sickness, the– the physical illness, but I get how something on the outside can make everything on the inside worse.”
“That’s exactly it.” Ravi nods softly. He pulls out the chair beside her, sitting more tenderly, and leaning forward. “I mean, it was just, like. The stuff happening to my body, and more than that, like– the pity, and the chemo, and losing my hair, it was so awful that my brain couldn’t keep up.”
May tilts her head up. “Exactly.”
They fall into a soft quiet, a stillness where all May hears is Ravi’s breathing, until he clears his throat. “Um. You… you went home, what? Friday?”
“Yeah,” May says, suddenly uncomfortable. Her skin crawls.
“How are you feeling now?” Ravi asks.
She nods. “Better. Well, not– not really. Sort of. I mean, I feel… safe. Like, I can trust myself, for now at least. But I think I might need to go back, after… today.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Mm.” She hums, noncommittal.
Ravi rubs his hands together, clasping them in his lap and looking up at May. “If you do feel like you should go back,” He says carefully. “It wouldn’t be… I mean, this kind of thing happens. It doesn’t mean that you haven’t made progress. It just means that progress isn’t… linear, you know?”
May breaths out, short, through her nose. “Logically I know that. It just feels…”
“Intangible?” Ravi offers casually.
Swallowing, May nods. “Exactly.”
“That was what my cancer coming back felt like,” Ravi elaborates a little, voice quiet and tone tense. “I mean. I was in remission for years, and then out of nowhere…” He mimics an explosion, smiling solemnly as he does so, like the memory still aches too much to laugh.
May straightens up a little, tapping the leg of the chair beneath her. “I– I appreciate you letting me come back here. Mom’s been weird, lately, and Harry went back with Chimney, and I just– I didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment. Not after that.”
“I get it,” Ravi grimaces.
May nods, then feels a pang of guilt spread in her chest. “How are you doing, though? With all of this, I mean.”
“We don’t have to–” Ravi starts, trying to wave her off.
“Ravi,” She emphasises.
As he stares down at his hands, Ravi’s tongue licks his bottom lip. “I’ve been better,” He concedes slowly. “I– I’m still a little mad, you know?” He poses it as a question, but May knows he doesn’t need an answer. “That he would just do that, without giving any of us a chance to– to intervene, or to come up with a new plan. But, uh. But being around you’s made it better,” He adds, biting back a grin, clearly trying to move away from the topic.
May gets it, so she lets him avert.
“I could say the same,” She says instead.
Ravi shifts in his chair. “Do you want company later? Like—after today, I mean. Not in a hovering way.”
May considers it, chewing her lip. “Yeah. I think I’d like that. Even if it’s just sitting and not talking.”
“I’m very good at not talking,” he says lightly.
She snorts. “I’m not..”
He stills a little, sobering, and gives May a tentative look.. “And, um. If you decide to go back in, you don’t have to explain anything to me. Just… text me an emoji or something, so I know what’s up.”
“A skull?” May offers, tone dry.
“Might be too on the nose,” Ravi teases.. “Maybe, um…”
“The little ogre guy?” She tries instead, brow quirked up hopefully.
Ravi bursts out laughing, so fast and loud it surprises May just a little. “Sure. One of the little ogre guys.”
She smiles, small and unsure, but as sure as the ground beneath her feet. “Perfect” she says, feeling the world lighten a fraction despite everything the day has put her through.