Author's Note: This story is officially co-written by author Sha Yurigami, as we came up with this idea together almost 2 years ago, now (maybe longer? Time has a habit of getting away from me). Sorry for the delay, man. This tale is set in something of a double-AU – that is, two worlds that sit right next to each other, so to speak. The idea is that in each world, someone died… and someone else lived. I'll explain more at the end of the chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY in any way. For the purposes of simplicity, I am using non-canon character details that fall in line with my other works, mainly those surrounding Summer Rose as she briefly appears in Paradigm of the Rose. Strong language ahead.
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As she awoke that morning, her whole body felt… off.
Her eyes hurt, her nose was burning and she felt as if her head was going to burst. The sheets that once covered her in peaceful slumber now lay in shreds all around the bed. Her fingers hurt, as did her knuckles, forearm and chest. The pain in her belly slowly grew more numb while the aching in her legs increased by the minute. How strange…
Deep down she knew what was wrong, but she chose to ignore it. Easier that way.
Slowly she raised her head, feeling the dull gray light touching her skin through the cracks and holes in the walls. It felt cold in spite of the summer heat raging outside. Cicidas, dragonflies and all those other multi-legged children of nature were singing and dancing as if the past two months had never happened. Annoyed, she took the pillow from beneath her head and threw it at the already broken window, causing the scraps of the tattered pillowcase to fall off her shoulders. There was a dull thump as the thing landed somewhere outside. Dust from the outside drifted in, forming a path little fairies would follow to sing their songs of joy and sorrow. Noisy bastards.
Tiredly she lifted her aching arm, wiping the crust from her dry eyelids. She needed to get ready and… make breakfast for everyone. Yeah, breakfast. Dragging her feet off the mattress, her body slowly made for the closet to get dressed in her Huntress gear. Lately she felt that she'd been wearing this outfit every day. Though just like when she was a student, she slowly dressed herself without forming a thought or uttering a sound. Everything was automatic. Easier that way.
After putting on her boots, she tied the laces tightly and made her way out of the broken door, ignoring the splintered wood. She didn't register the sound or feel of rubble beneath her feet or the crunching of broken glass as she walked past queer, badly distorted pictures. She ignored everything. Easier that way.
Slowly, one painful step at a time, she walked down the creaking staircase. Ignoring the blonde mess lying on the couch, she made her way to the kitchen. She absently took a carton of badly spoiled milk and poured it into a frying pan, mixed some honey that was turning green and a nugget of old salt into it and slowly started to stir the mixture over a medium flame. The stove whined as it was used, no longer willing to work properly but unable to simply expire. It had to keep working if they were going to eat, right? She didn't even notice the stench.
After a minute she grabbed …'s and …'s cereal and mixed them into her mess with strong and careful stirs of her spatula. Letting her creation simmer in the pan, she took four slightly broken plates out of the cupbroard. Her fingers ached from the weight and she ignored the feeling of sharp edges digging into her skin as she sat some tableware atop the kitchen counter. She took the two plastic cups with …'s and …'s names written on them and sat them next to the smaller, less damaged plates.
Once the pan started burning, she mustered every ounce of air in her lungs to give the call, "…! …! Breakfast is ready!" It didn't get far as she wheezed, her throat tight. Despite the effort, her heart beat agonizingly slow. The pains in her body grew slightly sharper.
"Summer?"
A voice came near, rough and husky with a hint of alcohol wafting on his breath. "Holy fuck, what are you doing, Summer?!" The owner of the voice screamed and rushed to the flaming pan, quickly throwing it along with its flaming contents out of the hole in the wall he had just come through. The vile concoction splattered onto the dirt, instantly extinguished.
She knew this man once, a long time ago – that familiar red cape, now tattered, burned and soaked in black, oozing blood, shaggy black hair with more gray than she ever expected him to earn, and a face that was once filled with life – but that was an age ago.
"Qrow."
Shaking his newly burnt hands, the scruffy man turned to face her with eyes wide with shock. She couldn't fathom just what he was thinking. "So now you fucking remember me," he spat. He took out a silver flask from his back pocket and chugged something from it – she didn't need to know what he drank, just that it lost any effect on her weeks ago. And not from lack of trying.
Weeks? Had it been that long?
Slow, heavy steps followed by the fluttering of that cape were the only sounds as Qrow paced the broken living room. "Last week you forgot our names," Qrow spat, gulping down more of his beverage, "And the week before that, Tai lost all fucking sense of himself." He kicked a chair in her direction, which she took to steady her wobbly legs.
Her tired silver eyes wandered over to the blonde man on the couch, his eyes blank and mouth tightly shut. She remembered the once strong and emotion-filled man. She remembered the bright and cheerful lavender eyes looking over their little family, his smile, and the way he took …'s and …'s hands when they first started to walk. She remembered … getting angry at him and that he needed to let the girls try it on their own first…
The distant memory of his tear-stricken face as he watched the toddlers who fell on the ground due to his 'helpful' hands.
She remembered and the tears returned – she had prayed that they dried up a long time ago. By all rights she should have been long out of them by now.
That blonde, lovable oaf… laid with vacant eyes on the couch. Dead to the world around him. Empty.
It was easier that way.
"Damn it all," Qrow growled, barely raising his voice as he patted the dormant man's shoulder, the sword in his other hand quivering while his eyes remained focused on a picture frame laying at his feet. It was one of the only ones left that still looked… as it did before. Tears slowly welled up and fell onto the unbroken glass. "I… I don't really want to remember them. Fuck, it would've been better had it been me that… … … Summer." He turned to her, his eyes looking even more lost, "They haunt me, like so many others."
He let go of his friend and leaned down to grab the frame. Carefully, as if bearing the weight of the world, he lifted it and caressed the surface longingly.
"…?"
The ragged woman struggled to comprehend her own feelings. She approached Qrow, the pain growing worse in her brain the longer he held the frame, the longer he stared at the image. She approached him and extended her hands to take it for herself.
Their gazes met and she looked directly into Qrow Branwen's red eyes.
Ruby irises.
Ru…b…y…
Her eyes snapped wide as her hands slapped over her face. A cry of agony and pure sorrow burst out of her throat. Her belly felt like it was on fire. There was ice in her brain.
"Summer? Summer!"
She ignored it. That was all she ever did. It was all she could do. Easier that way.
She ignored the pain, the embrace of strong arms around her and soothing words whispered desperately into her ears.
It grew.
The pain grew in her head, in her throat.
It grew so much, so hard, it soon became completely unbearable. The screams returned, the darkness surrounding her, her loved ones, her …, and yet despite the growing uncertainties and the horrors… she wasn't ready to face them yet…
Then she saw something, like a glimmer of light in the distance. She saw it with her soul before her eyes fully knew what it was.
A weapon. Her weapon.
A pair of curved S-shaped swords mounted over the broken fireplace, still in good shape.
Crescent Moon… Slayer of Demons.
She thrashed around in Qrow's grip, throwing her arms and body until Qrow released her and she grabbed the swords. The weak mounting shattered into sawdust as she yanked them free.
"Summer! Get a hold of yourself, Dammit!" Qrow screamed holding up his hands, his own eyes glimmering with wetness. "They're gone! Everyone's gone! Ruby! Yang! Rav-"
"DON'T SAY THEIR NAMES!" she cried, whimpering, repeating over and over the same four words like a mantra, slowly, slowly lowering the twin blades but not releasing them. "Don't say their names… Don't say their names…"
She knew was Qrow was doing, but she wasn't ready to face it yet. Not yet. Maybe never.
"You have to face it Summer Rose… you're our leader, after all."
"Shut up!"
"No, I won't. Kiddo, we fucking lost. The war is over. Did you look outside lately? The mist…" his eyes lowered and stared at the dirty floor, "That red mist… it's proof we failed. Remember what Oz said: Those who hunt monsters should beware they don't become them." He gritted his teeth, growling like the beasts they used to hunt. "I always hated how he said that…"
Qrow held his face, as though trying to hold the last shreds of his humanity together. He remained still, looking at her as a single black tear dripped from his right eye. There was no longer any trace of white behind that red iris. "Face it Summer, we can't go back to how it used to be. It's over."
"No…" she whispered while her oldest friend and companion leaned against the couch, struggling to hold onto his soul.
"It's over, and the only thing left to do… is go down in a blaze of glory."
"You want to die."
"… … … I just don't… want to turn into… a fucking monster."
"No, no nonononononononono NO. No, not you too!" She couldn't bear the pain, the suffocating atmosphere of this place any longer. This place of death. A place that was supposed to be a good, warm, loving home… not hell itself.
She ran screaming out of the hole in the side of the house, no longer able to hear anything around her – so she missed his last words.
"Find a way out of this, kiddo. If it's you, then… then… … … maybe…" He whispered as his eyes grew vacant, looking into the distance.
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It was there he saw it.
At first he didn't know what he was looking at.
A speck of red. The ruins in the Emerald Forsest.
He felt like he was floating in the air, hovering above the ground yet unable to free himself from the ice that encased his tail. The red speck approached with a speed he'd only ever seen once before.
His eyes widened as he saw the red figure aiming for his head with a massive scythe he would have loved to wield himself. A girl, so young yet so full of energy, deep red hair adorning her head and silver eyes brimming with life, …Qrow didn't care about staying alive any longer.
The last thing he felt was a swell of pride in his chest when he realized who it was that took him to a better place. A kinder world.
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She ran.
Swords in hand and chest bursting with pain, she didn't allow that fatigue to catch up with the rest of her. She couldn't. She wouldn't.
She ran.
No longer did she care about the world around her as it turned red and the mist slowly took away the ground from beneath her feet. If it took her, then so be it.
She just ran. It was… easier this way.
On and on until everything was white… and she felt a soft tap on her right shoulder. She spun around, ready to slash at whoever it was that managed to sneak up on her, yet her eyes once again grew wide when the only thing she saw… was her own face.
Paler, yet more alive than she herself felt, the woman before her smiled and moved her lips, yet the sound of her words disappeared within the bombardment of the static noise of the white world they were in.
Her double's gentle hands guided the weary woman towards a place where the noise wasn't nearly as bad. In fact, it slowly started to disappear as she watched with scared eyes how the mirror of herself was starting to dissolve into a flurry of white rose petals.
[I can take you no further… … …]
The double's voice finally whispered to her and for the first time Summer truly believed that it was real.
"I-I don't un-"
A soft hand caressed her cheek, telling her to step thinking. The warm smile on her mirror's face told her the truth she didn't want to understand.
[Go, she needs you…]
The ghostly form whispered just as the shape she held slowly wilted away… and was gone.
The mist slowly parted, leaving her standing alone in the middle of a strange forest. The ground was moist, her swords heavy – yet they reminded her that she still lived. The pain was still there but she pushed onward.
Nothing made sense anyway… so why should she bother thinking about it…?
Her deep red hair hung over her eyes, tinting her view of the surroudings with a crimson hue. The sounds of the forest were silent and… almost stifled. She knew better than to feel fear or else they would find her, but aside from the eerie silence only the faint sound of clanging metal could be heard.
"…!"
She knew that sound. Her eyes widened as she ran towards it, almost dragging her twin swords through the grass. Gods, had she ever been this tired before?
No time to be tired. A battle loomed ahead. It was the sounds of fighting.
Somebody was fighting in the distance and she couldn't bear the thought that either … or … were in the middle of that!
She had… to go… she had to…
No time for doing this the easy way. Not anymore.
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The woman watched with impassive eyes as the villagers tried feebly to defend themselves from her men. Pathetic, really. The last of them fell quickly as their goods vanished into the wilderness.
These days it was so easy to find their provisions and even easier to find the Dust they tried to hide from the SDC. A mild hum escaped her lips, not that anybody could hear it with her mask covering her face. Too easy.
When did it become so easy to just… take from others?
Then again, the strong lived and the weak died… that was nature, was it not?
"…"
Of course she had to think about them, now of all times. Now, like she hadn't just left them behind and disappeared like the phantom she always tried to be. She was the only one who was clever enough to leave before Ozpin could get a hold of them any more than he already did. That meant they were the ones who deserved to be left behind… right?
"…"
And yet… she cannot deny that she missed… something about them.
Something that was… weak and unnecessary. There was no need for it… right?
Through force of habit she glanced up, focusing on the distant and shattered moon – but for just a second, for just the tiniest of moments… she saw a full moon. Not shattered… whole.
And just like that, the illusion was gone.
"Maybe I'm not as sane as I imagined," she whispered holding her masked face in her palm. Then she heard something familiar carried on the wind. Something… from another life. A strange, white mist was rolling in from somewhere behind her, carrying the noise with it.
It was approaching quickly. Timid legs, timid footfalls, timid huffs of air… and she felt her entire body reacting to it, moving completely against her will. Responding the same way she used to so long ago, in the presence of someone… who should be dead.
In that next second, as she looked back… she found herself unable to turn away. Unwilling. There was nothing she could do.
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Heavy.
Her steps, her heart, everything felt heavy… but she couldn't stop her feet from moving.
Couldn't stop. All reason was well beyond her tired mind.
She felt numb, yet didn't slow down and finally saw a clearing in front of her. A clearing with a single Grimm standing in front of her.
A Grimm with surprisingly human features.
Black feathers on its back like a never more, resembling hair… a bone-like mask instead of a face… and… a skirt?
Her steps faltered.
Her eyes widened.
Her heart stopped.
A single word escaped her lips:
"R-Raven…?"
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She couldn't be here.
No… it was impossible. She was dead.
There was no way that woman could be standing in front of her. No way that after all these years she could be alive.
Yet everything inside of Raven Branwen conflicted over the appeareance of a woman who looked exactly like Summer Rose, someone who should be long dead.
"R-Raven…?" the woman spoke, her tone hollow, disbelieving… but to hear that voice… a voice she never thought she would hear again… once again mutter her name… gods…
Whether it was out of pure instinct or something else, Raven did not know… but just as the frail woman collasped before her, Raven rushed over and caught the much smaller girl before she ever hit the ground. Whatever possessed her to do such a thing, even going as far as gently embracing the shivering body of this weak and truly pathetic creature, she did not know.
And you know what? She did not care.
Something fell into the abyss she tried so hard to create – the hole in her heart that was meant to protect her from all outside forces – and woke up what had lain dormant within her heart. A tiny spark, an ember, lighting up that which she wanted nothing to do with. For the first time in years, Raven felt a stirring of… emotion.
"Dammit, Summer… every damn time…" she whispered as something warm and wet fell from her eyelids.
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A/N: I suppose a little explanation is in order here.
First off, about two years ago (give or take) I went through a major depression in my life. I connected with Sha Yurigami on this website and the two of us discussed a possible co-writing project in which Summer and Raven from two different worlds sort-of… crossed over. The idea was that in the world where Summer lived, Ruby, Yang and Raven died. On the other hand, the world she crosses into is one where she should be dead… but on one supernatural evening, two worlds collide… (and no, it's not connected to Paradigm.)
I decided to go ahead and finally tackle this thing due to a few factors: my failing marriage and my recent gallbladder surgery. I'm okay, but those painkilers… whooooo. Fun times.
ANYway… This story will likely be a slow release (depending on both me and my co-writer), but I plan to focus this tale on a romance between Raven and an other-worldly Summer. As in, romance. I plan to get steamy with this one. You have been warned.
;)