A commission for moonwatcher13! They asked for post-volume 3 Bumblebee and basically let me do whatever I wanted with this story, so I've done it!
I'll be posting this fic on RWBY Tuesdays for the next few weeks until it's finished, then resume Beyond The Stables!
Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.
Chapter 1. The Sunlight
Yang couldn't remember what it felt like to smile.
She hadn't smiled in days, not since-
Not since the accident.
She didn't like to talk about it, didn't like to think about it.
Though, in retrospect, perhaps talking about it might've done her a bit more good than sitting around moping in bed all day long.
She kept justifying her own moodiness, telling herself she deserved to be angry, deserved to be upset and furious and overridden with a dull feeling of utter helplessness.
Even though she didn't talk to Ruby or her father about how she was feeling whenever either of them tiptoed in to see her, Yang often found herself suffocating in the memories when she was alone.
She knew that talking to them rather than the black bird outside her window probably would've helped.
But she just felt she'd sound like she was complaining to them. She felt she'd be a burden on them, more than she already was as an invalid.
Therefore, she chose to suppress it all, swallowing down the sobs for every daylight hour until they forced themselves to burst forth at night.
Every evening, Taiyang would bring her a tray of food which she'd eat in bed. He'd always ask her if she wanted to move back into hers and Ruby's shared room tonight.
But Yang always refused. She didn't want to risk Ruby seeing or hearing her cry so pitifully.
And she knew that if she went back to their bedroom, Ruby would beg to crawl in beside her, to hold her and be held, even if Yang could only ever provide half the embrace she once was able to.
She knew that moving back to their room would make Ruby feel better.
But she feared it would only make herself feel worse.
And she was so goddamn selfish. All she cared about was herself. She just kept locking herself away and feeling sorry for herself, day after day, leaving her little sister to fret all alone.
She knew Ruby must've wondered if Yang hated her. Of course she didn't, but with the way she was acting, Yang could guess Ruby might feel that way.
Yang really hated herself in those days.
She was such an idiot. She was acting like a child.
But... didn't she deserve to? For once in her life?
She'd never gotten a childhood of her own. She'd had to grow up quickly to fill in the role of Ruby's mother for her-
No...
Presently, she clenched her fist in her lap and bit her lip.
I can't blame Ruby for this. She's more innocent than anyone. What the hell's wrong with me...?
Or at this point, it might've been easier to differentiate what wasn't wrong with her.
She bit into her lower lip harder, until she tasted blood.
It reminded her of that day, the sharp, rustic tang hitting the roof of her mouth with poignant flavor. She saw Blake again, helpless beneath Adam's sword, writhing and screaming in agony-
She sobbed, shaking her head to chase off the vision, knowing exactly which memory would follow it.
Her right arm always ached whenever she thought about it. About Blake.
She made an effort to calm herself down as best she could, inhaling slowly as she wiped her eyes.
Why was she like this?
The day was beautiful outside her window. Every morning, she woke to golden sunlight bathing her face and hair in warmth, highlighting the energetic shine of the sunflowers at her bedside. Before the accident, she would've hopped out of bed to head outside and enjoy the day with her sister from start to finish.
But now, it made her bitter to even look outside, or at the sunflowers that had been left for her.
She didn't want them. She didn't deserve them.
She didn't deserve her father's kindness.
She didn't deserve Ruby's love.
That night, she laid down on her dampened pillow believing she'd be better off without them...
. . .
. .
. . .
...And the next day, she found out she'd lost something precious to her.
She'd already lost so much – Weiss, Blake, Beacon, her arm...
But now...
Now-
Her father rushed into the room that morning, frantic and on the verge of tears. She sat up, rubbing her eyes.
Had she not recognized the crushing distress in his eyes, she might've attempted to send him away.
But she could tell right away that this was something serious.
She'd seen that look in his eyes before, many, many years ago. After her mother had disappeared-
And he asked her the very same questions now.
"Where is she? Have you seen her?"
Yang only stared blankly back at him, wondering if she was imagining things, reliving old memories.
But the pain in her arm, the ache in her chest, and the sting behind her eyes were all too real to ignore.
"Wh-What...? What are you talking about, Dad...?" Her voice was as hollow as she felt as she watch him sway against the wall. His next words were also terribly familiar:
"She's gone..."
Yang stared at him, seeing the same bleakness reflected in his eyes. There was a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, and even from here, Yang could tell it had Ruby's handwriting on it.
No.
This...
This wasn't happening...
Not again...
Not Ruby-
"No..." Her throat started to close up. More tears spilled forth, the first she'd shown to her father in days. "No... Dad, sh-she can't..."
He put a palm to his face and mumbled something under his breath.
"I've... I've gotta go look for her. I don't know... when she left, but I've gotta..."
He staggered, then whipped around and hurried off.
Yang longed to chase after him, to help him search for her baby sister.
But she was numb.
So numb...
Not again.
First, she'd lost her own mother, then Ruby's, and now...
Now she'd lost her baby sister.
It hurt too much.
It wasn't fair.
It was...
It was all her fault.
It's because... I kept pushing her away, isn't it? It's because I... because I refused to see her. Because I didn't tell her "I love you" back...
She'd done this to herself, snuffed out her own sunlight, and now her father was paying for it as well. She knew she deserved this pain. But he didn't.
And Ruby didn't, either.
Yang was so scared for her. Where was she planning to go? What was she planning to do? What if she got hurt? What if she lived the rest of her days thinking Yang didn't love her, too? Because she hadn't told her-
"Damn it..."
Yang grabbed the tear-soaked sheets on her lap and threw them off. She swung her legs over the edge so swiftly she collapsed before she could fully stand.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!"
Her fist smashed into her nightstand in her fury, making it shake. The vase of sunflowers trembled from the impact. It toppled and crashed to the floor in front of her, glass shattering as water seeped into the carpet, the yellow petals now crumpled and limp.
Yang shouted another curse and scrambled to her feet, running straight across the wreckage, not caring for the consequential cuts in her bare feet.
She was going to go find her sister.
Damn it all, Ruby!
At the doorway to the room, she came to a halt as she caught sight of something. Even past the blur of her tears, she could tell it was the paper her father had been holding earlier.
Yang dropped to her knees and picked it up, struggling to open it and flatten in out with her hand. She wiped her eyes furiously, not wanting to drip tears onto the last fragile thing Ruby had left them.
It read:
"Dear Dad and Yang,
I'm sorry, but there's something I have to do. There are people I need to see and answers I need to find. But don't worry. I won't be going alone. I'll be back someday, I'm just not sure when.
Love, Ruby."
Yang didn't know what to feel.
There was a slight ounce of relief to know Ruby hadn't gone alone, but it wasn't nearly enough to make her feel any better.
She was so worried about her. She felt so goddamn guilty.
While nothing in the letter implied that Yang's selfishness and aloofness had been a part of what had driven Ruby away, she knew in her heart it was partially her own fault.
Why?
Her mother, Blake, now Ruby.
Why did everyone close to her always run away?
Why... was she always the one left behind...?
She couldn't find the strength to get up anymore. She just sat there, leaning against the door frame, clutching Ruby's note to her chest, her feet still bleeding from the glass.
Why?
Why...?
"Ru...by..."
She cried for hours.
Until the cuts in her feet healed up and stopped bleeding.
Until the water from the fallen vase had evaporated and seeped into the carpet.
Until the golden rays of warm sunlight had vanished and left her in a cold, lonely twilight.
She could hear a familiar rapping sound against the glass of the window, and knew it was that black bird again.
It wanted to come in. It always had.
Maybe today she'd let it.
She was about to attempt standing again when she heard the downstairs door close, and someone moving about. She could tell from the slow footsteps that it was her father.
And she could tell from the heavy, dejected sighs that he hadn't brought anyone back with him.
She listened as he stopped for a time, likely sitting on the couch and burying his face in his hands to cry.
For an hour, she listened to the distant sounds of his misery, occasionally adding a few whimpers of her own.
And all the while, the insistent tapping of a beak on glass sounded behind her.
She tried to ignore it.
But it was getting to her.
Maybe she should let it in...
Maybe it would help her forget...
But before she could make an effort to stand again, she heard the sounds of her father's footsteps nearing. The bird outside stopped tapping and flitted away.
Taiyang found her there on the floor, clutching Ruby's note, her room in disarray, her feet bloodied and face distraught.
He didn't need to say anything for her to know he hadn't been able to find Ruby.
Neither of them spoke for a long while.
He helped her back to bed, put bandages on her feet, then cleaned up the glass shards on the floor. He then picked up the bushel of sunflowers.
They'd once stood tall and proud, watching over her. But now they were limp and frail.
When he finally did speak, his words were as frail as the petals he held.
"I'll put 'em in a new vase. The sender really wanted you to have them."
Yang had been staring blankly out her window, looking for the bird when she stiffened. She turned towards her father, her voice a quiet rasp.
"What... what do you mean 'the sender'? Didn't... Dad, didn't you put those here for me?"
He paused from where he'd planned to leave the room, then turned back to his eldest daughter.
"Oh yeah." He seemed a little relieved to have another topic to occupy his mind with for the moment. "I didn't tell you, did I? There was just so much going on.
"But yeah, it wasn't me who got those flowers for you, Yang. The first few days after you and Ruby came home, you were both still really weak. You slept for a few days. And during that time... someone left these at your window. Two for each day you were asleep. One in the morning and one at night. They were left on your window sill, so there was no doubt who they were for. I guess there's someone out there who's looking out for you, too."
He smiled a little, perhaps imagining for himself who had been leaving them. But something told him it wasn't whom he thought it was.
And perhaps that was for the best.
"Either way, I'll go get you a new vase for them."
With that, he left her for a while.
Yang sat in silence yet again, absorbed in so many new thoughts now.
She could only think of one person who could have been leaving those flowers for her.
With sudden swiftness, Yang wrestled herself from bed once more, crawling over to the edge until she reached the window. The bird was nowhere to be seen, so she didn't hesitate in opening it.
The air outside was cool and still that night, silent save from the faint chirps of crickets in the distance. Moonlight bathed the ground below, dyeing the bark and leaves of the trees in silver.
Choking back a sob, Yang raised her voice higher than it had gone in weeks and cried out for her.
"Blake! Blake, please! If you're there, then... please come... I... I need you... I need you..."
Her voice cracked, then tapered off, the echoes dying away into the night.
She listened and looked for a response, for any kind of sound, any little rustle of leaves or flash of shadows...
But there was nothing. Nothing at all.
She heard the flutter of wings, and a small, dark figure headed her way, blocking out the moon. Yang quickly pulled herself back inside and closed the window before the bird could reach her.
No... Not yet... please...
She wouldn't give in yet. She still needed answers.
With fresh tears in her eyes, she crawled back to her bed, but didn't get beneath the covers.
Her father returned a moment later with the sunflowers in a new vase. Before he could put them down on her nightstand, Yang sniffled and called out to him.
"Dad...?"
Her voice cracked, and he felt his heart doing the same.
"Yeah, hun? What is it?"
He went to her and sat at the edge of her bed, his eyes hopeful. This would be the first time since she'd come home that she'd be asking something of him, like a daughter should.
He'd do anything for her.
She was all he had left.
Yang reached out her arm and hugged him softly.
"Can I... sleep in my room tonight...?"
Taiyang, pulled her in tightly and nodded.
"Sure you can, sweetie. Sure you can."
For a few minutes, he held her, letting her cry into his shoulder like she'd used to so many, many years ago.
Then, he gathered her into his arms and carried her out of the room, down the hallway, and to hers and Ruby's bedroom. He laid her down in her bed, then returned to fetch the vase of sunflowers to place on the table beside her.
Yang couldn't describe this feeling.
It had been years since she'd last lain in her own bed. She was home. It should've felt like home.
But the last time she'd lain here, she'd had two hands to rest across her stomach. And she'd been able to look to her side and see Ruby lying there beside her.
Now those things were gone.
There was still an innate comfort about this room – a familiar scent, a homely feeling. It was home.
But now...
It was only partially home.
Ruby's bed was empty, only occupied by Zwei's whimpering form at the foot of it. Even when her father kissed her forehead, wished her goodnight, and turned off the lights, Yang was trapped in a feeling of false security.
Almost everything about this scene was home.
But there were a few things missing, a few key components whose absence would never allow the puzzle come together.
It was all just fragments now, a blurred, unfinished picture, mostly complete, but with a few gaping holes at the heart of it.
She didn't think it could ever be complete again.
Yang cried herself to sleep again that night, whispering apologies to Ruby, whispering wishes for Weiss' wellbeing, whispering secrets to Blake...
All things she knew they'd never hear.
She closed her eyes, and the last thing she saw that night were those drooping sunflowers and Ruby's vacant bed.
And even from here, she could still hear a faint tapping sound coming from outside the window down the hall.
A/N: I'm still so upset that Yang didn't tell Ruby "I love you" back in the show. I will continue to push that detail in my stories whenever I can ;w;
Next chapter will be from Blake's POV.
If you like my work, you can support me on as Kiria Alice!
Please review!