A/N: A sad FREEZERBURN story I wrote a while back. It's not fluffy in the slightest, so just as a warning, if that's what you're looking for, it's not here.
Muted
There was nothing to disturb her, not even the cawing of the crows. How many days had she spent in her bed? How many hours had passed her by, moment by moment? Gazing out to that blue and white sky, she tried to think about the answer, but, she couldn't.
The once free fiery soul was trapped, confined to a bed, watching and waiting. Her loneliness, little more than baited breath that she held back. If she didn't, who knew what would fly out of her mouth next. What words would strike like a lance? Who would she cut into this time? At what cost?
Terrified of that, she didn't dare say a word.
Screaming, crying, tortured sighs, it didn't matter what it was. Everything congealed, and she swallowed all of it down. Not even a murmur passed her lips, even though she wanted to spit it from her mouth like vomit. Her control, her wit, was little more than a fractured pause stifled with gently gritted teeth.
She could never say it, even if she wanted to. She could never say anything the way she wanted, so it came as no surprise that even her retorts were locked up tightly in her throat. The barest squeak out of her, and everything would explode like the venom that it was.
She knew what eyes of pity looked like. A rainbow of color met her often enough, every single time she locked eyes with the people who should have mattered. They were blind though. As blind to her, as she was crippled. As unseeing as the lack of dawn in the sky at that very moment.
Just as muddled, and equally defying logic for all that it could ever be.
As completely asinine as the lips upon her cheek. The warmth there that was completely unexpected. Soft lips. Gentle. Too gentle, as if they were caressing glass that might shatter. Already betrayed, what could she do? Give into temptation? Melt into someone else, forgo any and all instinct she had? It was the easier thing to do, because she got the distinct impression that the woman in front of her wasn't asking for words.
She wasn't asking for Yang to say a single thing. However, there was one thing she was asking the pained woman to do. Something Yang couldn't agree with, and yet, couldn't deny.
Give in? Like hell. Let go? Maybe.
She wouldn't actively participate, even as she leaned her neck to the side, letting the silver haired woman do as she wished with those wandering fingertips.
"This isn't like you." The admonishment landed quickly. "Come on, stop acting like this."
Still Yang said nothing. Didn't allow herself the luxury to say a word. That…that tended to shove people away, and Yang didn't want to push anyone back anymore. She just didn't have the heart to try. So, she complied with everything, sink or swim. Failure or success.
There was teeth in that kiss now, small nips soothed by hot breath and gentles presses of tongue. "Act on impulse. Get mad. You know you want to." Another order, haughty, but still ever so desperate. "Be a bitch. Throw a punch." The caress of fingertips became the scratching of nails across her cheek, not enough to hurt. "Do something!" Lingering all the same.
Yang didn't move. Not when that palm of the girl rested softly against her cheek. Not when it lifted and swiftly impacted. Yang didn't even flinch. The sting wasn't enough to completely shatter her. As far as she was concerned, she was already broken.
Those soft eyes, out of desperation narrowed. "Fine, if that's how you're going to be."
Yang was shoved from the bed, crashing onto the floor, on top of her injured arm. That hurt. Fresh tears sprang from her eyes then. She just laid there, crumpling into a ball, watching as a small bug skittered across the floor with a chunk of food. Was she honestly so worthless she couldn't muster even a bug's strength?
"Get up, Yang."
Yang blinked. It was the first time she truly registered that authoritative voice.
"Get the hell up!" The actual emotion there pricking her ears in a way she had only noticed when her own agony raked over her. "Fight back, freak out, I don't care what you do, just do it!"
Weiss Schnee. The usually unflappable girl of the group. Of her team. Yang's gaze settled on that cold rage now. That emotion so hot, it would make hell itself freeze over. That contradicting rage so utterly perfect, a conflicted between right and wrong at war. She made no move, made no attempt to soothe that angry woman, even as she continued to watch and wait.
Finally, she flipped her silvery hair out of her way, and laid down across the single person bed. "I'm not leaving." She finally sighed, pulling the blankets up around her. "You can either join me, or stay there on the floor. It doesn't matter either way."
Which of course meant that it did matter. That Weiss was at the end of her limit. That she'd given up the fight of brute force and stubbornness. Yang had been the silent victor. Her one good hand spread across the cool floor, she realized she had won. A pyrrhic victory that cut worse than her own bitter words ever could.
Yang didn't move, not even when she heard the choked sob.
What could she have said to that anyway? What could she have done?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.