Author's Note: (now entering Snicket Mode) If you're looking for a story about sisterly love and nothing more, that story can be found elsewhere. But allow me to assure you that should you choose to stay, you will be treated to a tale of loss, comfort, overcoming of shame, and above all else… love. Read on. If you wish.

-TWT

Take it from me, grief can do a lot of different things to a person. It messes with your emotions, completely cuts you off from most of the world, and… well, forget that last one. But there are a few positives. For one, it tends to get a little better every day, which is good. And when other bad stuff happens, it never seems like too much of a big deal. But most importantly, grief tends to teach you who, in the end, is really important in your life.

I know this because I've grieved twice in my life.

The first was when my mother died when I was about five or six. From what I remember, she had been sent on a mission somewhere in Mistral, and was overrun by Grimm. They never found a body, but she was presumed dead.

I remember not being able to comprehend what happened. The more everyone tried to gently explain it to me, the more I just refused to believe it. I shut myself away in my room for days, not talking to anyone, and barely sleeping.

The only reason I came back out was my sister.

After I had locked myself away for about four days, I was starting to get really hungry. At that age, I had no concept of "starving to death." All I knew was that I wanted to eat… and yet, out there was a world where my mom was gone. And I didn't want to go back into it.

Fortunately, I didn't have to. At least, not yet. As I sat in my bed, crying my eyes out for what must have been the fourth time that day, I heard the knob of my bedroom door clatter to the floor. It swung open, and in walked my big sister Yang, with a screwdriver in one hand, and a plate of sausages and cookies in another.

I had never been so happy to see anyone in my life.

The next couple hours were filled to the brim with eating, laughing, sisterly hugs, etc., and by the end of it, I could scarcely remember what I was sad about.

Of course, when it came time to talk about Mom, she was the most supportive, caring sister I could have ever asked for. Yang was a pretty good amateur grief counselor, for a second-grader.

As they say, of course, history repeats itself. And about ten years later, I grieved again, under very similar circumstances. Another relative missing, another locked room, and another session of comfort from my sibling.

But that's a story for another day…

…

…And that other day is today.

Even through my haze of sadness, I had the notion that this seemed somewhat familiar. There I was, locked away in my room on Patch, sobbing into my sheets. Just like I had been a decade before. This time, though, it wasn't my mother that had gone missing. It was my uncle, Qrow Branwen.

I suspect that someone who didn't know me would think it was strange that I was this worked up over the presumed loss of someone I wasn't even related to by blood. But Qrow and I were always really close. He taught at Signal Academy while I attended, and while some would cry nepotism, he said I was his favorite student. And he was my favorite teacher. He was the one who taught me how to build weapons, the one who trained me to wield a scythe… he was the one who unlocked my Aura, when I was 13.

And outside of training, we were just as close. When Dad (and Mom, at first) were out on missions, he would… he never called it "babysitting," but that's basically what it was. He'd watch Yang and I around the house, tell all kinds of war stories (one of my inspirations to be a Huntress), and when we got older, he'd take us out to Vale.

It's funny. Even all this time later, I still lose track of how many people thought I was his daughter.

And now, during my spring break from Beacon Academy, I got the news that while on a mission investigating irregular disturbances in Inner Mistral, he had fallen out of contact. No distress beacon. Not even a feather.

Presumed dead.

So, yeah. What else could I do but shut myself in my room and cry my eyes out?

I had been in there for about a day now. I was starting to get really hungry, but through my tears, I barely noticed. All I could do was just lay there, face buried in my bed, muttering "Uncle Qrow" over and over between sobs.

How sad is that, huh?

Apparently, one day was too much now. At some point, I heard my door creak open, and felt somebody sitting on my bed.

"Hey, sis. How you doing?" It was Yang.

I could only reply with a little whimper.

I could hear Yang sigh. "Can you at least look at me?"

My head turned to look at my sister. She wasn't in what she normally wore. Instead of a brown jacket and black shorts, she had on a gray sweater and a pair of jeans.

"He… He's not coming back, is he?" I choked out.

"Sis, don't talk like that," Yang replied.

"Well, how else am I supposed to talk?!" I half-shouted, sitting up at the foot of the bed like she was. "This is just like what happened to Mom…" I shoved my face into my hands.

I could feel Yang putting her arm around my shoulder. "Ruby… I know what you're feeling. Trust me, I'm going through what you are. I mean, he's my uncle too. But… do you think he'd want to see you like this?"

I put my hands into my lap and looked at her again. "…Why? Why does this keep happening, Yang?"

She looked down, and sighed again. "I don't know. But I can tell you now, it's going to be the last."

"You don't know that. What if this happens to Dad? Or you? Or… or me-"

I couldn't finish my thought, because Yang had pulled me into one of her signature bone-crushing hugs.

"Don't talk like that, Ruby. Don't you ever say that again, do you hear me?!"

I was speechless. Not because her hug had compressed one of my lungs, but because… I had never seen her this angry unless someone damaged her hair.

…Her hair… I always admired how she kept it so full. And it may sound creepy, but I always liked how it smelled, too. The citrus shampoo she always uses blends perfectly with the smoky air left over from her Semblance. It smells just like lemonade at a barbecue…

…Sorry, I'm getting off track.

She started to loosen her hold on me, and it became a far more gentle hug.

"…I'm not losing my sister."

Once I found my breath, I wrapped my arms around her waist, and returned the hug, though not as firmly.

"I… I didn't know you were this scared of…"

"Of course I am," she politely interrupted. "You're the only baby sister I've got, Rubes. You mean so much more to me than I can ever say. I…" She pulled back, looking me in the face another time, and smiling like I hadn't seen her smile in what felt like forever. "I love you."

To this day, I still don't know what it was. Maybe the intense brain chemistry over the grief of my uncle, maybe how Yang had comforted me these past few minutes, maybe this declaration of what I assumed at the time to be sisterly love. Maybe the lighting. The point is, there, in that moment, I began to see her in a whole new light.

Did that justify kissing her about a second later? Probably not, but in that moment… it was all the reason I needed.

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision if there ever was one. And I started to regret it immediately after. I mean, I was kissing my sister! And not in the way sisters usually kiss. I kissed her like a lover. Like a… woman. And let me be clear: I fully, fully expected her to break away, disgusted. To walk out of my room in a huff, and not talk to me for a while after, maybe forever.

What I did not expect… was for her to kiss me back. But lo behold, she did.

My thoughts went from regret straight to surprise and confusion, and I ended up being the one to pull back. "…Yang?"

She just smiled at me again. "I love you, Ruby. I love you… so much." I saw a tear in her eye. "…So much more than I should."

This was insane. She was insane. I was insane. The world had gone insane. But that didn't stop me from kissing her again. In fact, it only kept me going. My uncle was dead. Nothing was normal anymore, including this.

I loved my big sister. I loved her like she loved me, like sisters aren't supposed to love each other, but we did. And tonight, nothing was going to stop us. I didn't want anything to stop us.

Unfortunately, our need for oxygen did delay us a bit. I felt her pull away from the kiss, and rested her forehead on mine, our breaths slowing as we inhaled air into our lungs. I slowly took her wrist, and I could feel her pulse on my palm.

"I… I love you too, Yang. As much as I need to. Which, in my case…"

She just laughed, and wrapped her own hand around my forearm. "I know, sis," she said, her lavender eyes gently staring into mine. "I know." I could see in her eyes that she meant what she had said. And that was why I had to kiss her just one more time. I shouldn't love my sister this much.

But in that moment, and every moment after… I needed to.

Author's Disclaimer: Ah, there you are. And just in time. There's a little matter I forgot to mention. The second chapter of this story deviates from the fluff you have just seen and descends into the realm of the citrus. It is, by definition… a lemon. So if you wish to not view such material, you may exit the story now to your left. Thank you for reading, and have a pleasant browsing experience.

-TWT