Fighting for Us

by Texan Red Rose

Air Force Captain Weiss Schnee wants to pop the big question to her long time girlfriend, Navy Petty Officer Blake Belladonna. Trying to do so in a war zone presents unique challenges but she's confident they can work it out... until contact is lost with Blake's outpost. [Monochrome]

Disclaimer: Yes, I'm still alive. Still writing. Been busy as fuck and I don't know what I'm doing with my life. In the meantime, have some Monochrome. Although this is (another) military AU, I'm going to give the warning that this is definitely more of an 'Action Movie Military' rather than 'Realism Military'. You'll see what I mean.

---

Weiss Schnee was many things, and it usually varied depending on who you asked. To her father, she was a disappointment for opting to follow in her sister's footsteps instead of his, choosing a life in the military over a desk job at the family company. To her sister, she was smart for choosing to be commissioned into the Air Force as a pilot instead of enlisting in the Marines, like she did. To her friends, she was crazy for volunteering to return to the combat zone rather than taking a year off after her last tour. While all of these mattered to a degree, they weren't the most important opinions to the woman by a long shot.

That distinction belonged to the one and only Blake Belladonna, her girlfriend since high school, some eight years past. To Blake, she was courageous and strong and so many other things for pursuing what she wanted, for refusing to be intimidated, and for fighting for their relationship as hard as she did. They both did, really, or else they wouldn't have survived that first year out of high school, when Blake was half a world away at her first duty station while Weiss was working through the ROTC at a college near home. The dark haired woman had opted to enlist in the Navy, becoming a corpsman- the Navy's version of a combat medic- and following the Marines she was attached to through hell and high water.

In Weiss' opinion, that was brave. Much more so than flying in and out of combat zones, ferrying troops that would do the real fighting. It was a point of contention between them, though usually only in jest. They realized early on that trying to compare their careers would just cause problems, which were abundant enough given their lifestyles. Seeing as they were both presently deployed, communication was scarce, which was stressful enough on both of them without adding the headache of arguments to the mix.

Not that they didn't occur- Weiss was still feeling guilty for unintentionally being very short with Blake during their last conversation, a product of flying back-to-back trips to the theatre's gateway and back only for her girlfriend to be an hour late signing on to talk.

It wasn't Blake's fault; she was stationed on a small, hastily built outpost on the edges of their hard won territory in the area. That they had any form of contact with the world beyond the outpost was a blessing in itself, but she was tired and had completely forgotten that.

She was still kicking herself for it, even as she mechanically flicked off various switches while her co-pilot brought them to a steady stop on the runway. The latest batch of human cargo included a number of Soldiers, Marines, and Airmen returning from their mid-tour leave, eager to link up with their respective units and get back to work despite the occasional complaint about returning to the war zone. Add to that some extra supplies that didn't fit on the last cargo haul and it was a rather uncommon flight overall, but thankfully uneventful despite that.

"Weiss, are you alright?" Her co-pilot turned to her, worry evident in his pink eyes. Although a quiet man by nature, Captain Ren Lie was highly observant, and they'd worked together long enough for him to pick up on her poor mood.

And for her to realize avoiding the issue wouldn't produce anything good. They were the same rank, of course, but he had seniority on her by a year. Plus, he was, quite frankly, a tenacious bastard when sufficiently motivated.

"I got into an argument with Blake." She sighed, pulling off her flight helmet and setting it in her lap. "It's been two days and I've had time to realize I was an ass."

"She's used to that." He oh-so-helpfully pointed out while signalling the load master that they were clear to disembark. "You plan on apologizing."

"Of course."

"And she'll forgive you." He continued, shrugging slightly. "Arguments happen, especially given the current situation. She knows that."

Running a hand through her white fringe, Weiss ultimately decided to bite the proverbial bullet, reaching into her flight suit to pull out a small, black box. Getting it sent to her was hell, requiring Winter to actually go home and demand her father relinquish the object in question before sending it. Wordlessly, she opened the box to reveal the ring within- her mother's wedding band. Passed down through countless generations of Schnees, her elder sister had expressly relinquished claim to the ring when they spoke about it last year.

Because, really, Blake was so much more than her girlfriend, at this point. She was her best friend, her closest confidant, one of the few people who understood the stress associated with her chosen line of work and willing to bear the brunt of her attitude when it reared its ugly head. They had their bad times, but they'd worked through them, always supportive, always fighting to remind each other that they were loved and in love.

A small smile came to her lips as she remembered Blake's voice- her teasing lilt, her reverent whisper, her confident statements- and her laugh. She loved her girlfriend's laugh, especially the way it made those amber eyes shine.

"Oh. I see." Ren nodded, leaning back in his seat. "You've been through a lot together, Weiss. I doubt one argument is going to change her mind."

"I know that." She sighed, closing the box and tucking it back into her suit. "But I don't want the memory marred by the aftermath of an argument. I already hate having to do it through a screen."

They'd tried to time their mid-tour leave to coincide, but fate had other plans. The remote location of the outpost made troop movements take especially long, especially when the area was black listed due to engagements. The constant delays had pushed Blake's leave to a week after Weiss returned, though they were able to spend about half a day together at the gateway. She'd foolishly banked on the delay when Blake returned to give her the perfect opportunity to propose but, alas, fate had again interfered; that week, she got tapped to fly out of the combat zone entirely for a quick run to the theatre's secondary staging area and their bird suffered a mechanical failure during a storm on the way there- it was a miracle they were able to limp to the landing strip. Two days of repairs later, and her chance was gone as Blake boarded a blackhawk back to her outpost.

"Give it time. There's only three months left of the tour for you." He nudged her gently, sporting one of his small smiles. "This time, don't be so eager to come back."

Weiss nodded, gathering up her pack and water bottle as they made to disembark their bird. Truthfully, she'd only volunteered for the assignment because Blake was slated to deploy around the same time; they were offset by about a month. She'd hoped that supply runs and the like would put them in closer proximity than they'd been in two years. While still technically true, it wasn't what she'd hoped for, unfortunately.

Regardless, she busied herself with wording her apology in her head while she went through the motions, checking in with the load master for any discrepancies before walking down the bay door. The runway was surprisingly crowded, considering it was the middle of the day, a significant portion of the blackhawks that moved troops to and from the other bases sitting listlessly off to the side. The sight of them usually cheered her up; although she'd never operated a military grade helicopter, her father insisted she learn to fly the private, family one when she was younger. It was that experience that prompted her to become a pilot.

Ren was a few steps behind her as they traversed the flight line, following the gaggle of service members they'd dropped off into the air base's biggest building- the main terminal. They needed to double check with the flight controllers to ensure their next scheduled flight hadn't changed before heading back to their living quarters.

Ren was right, though; getting upset over a delay in their ridiculously infrequent conversations wasn't anything new and certainly wasn't limited to just her, either. Blake had gotten a tad annoyed before when a flight was delayed, seeing as that usually meant they didn't get to talk at all. Still, Weiss made a point to apologize for letting her fatigue and frustration get the better of her; even if it was an inevitable part of their relationship at present, that didn't mean she liked it. In her defense, she hadn't gotten upset about it in a while, either, so she was getting better.

To her mind, she needed to be better, though. Blake deserved that, she thought as she tapped against the box burning a hole in her pocket. She wanted to be better for her girlfriend- her hopefully soon-to-be fiance, damnit.

"What do you mean Beacon's black listed?"

Weiss blinked, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the terminal and turning her head. The name was instantly familiar, though it took a moment to place it. Beacon was the name of Blake's outpost.

Now invested in the answer, she focused her attention fully on the Marine who was currently leveling an impressively even stare at the Airman manning the terminal's desk, bright red hair bound in a bun just beneath her cover.

The Airmen swallowed thickly, withering under the intense scrutiny. "Beacon came under heavy mortar and small arms fire yesterday, right around seventeen hundred. The area's still declared a no fly zone until communication's been re-established."

What?

"Wait, did you say Beacon Outpost?" A soldier suddenly stopped, running back up to the counter to grab the Airman by his lapel. Her wild blonde hair was tied back messily- and out of regulation- but no one seemed keen on confronting her about it as she growled in the man's face. "What do you mean 're-established'? How long have they been dark?"

"T-twelve hours."

Twelve hours.

For a Marine, a twelve hour fire fight was probably akin to another day at the office but the very thought of it made Weiss' blood run cold. A thousand scenarios flitted through her head, each getting progressively worse as the information sunk in; the reasons they wouldn't be able to make any contact with Beacon were disturbingly few. The most likely was that they were still under attack.

"Fine. What about ground transport?" The Marine pressed on, emerald eyes glinting like stones as her jaw tightened.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant, but all the routes are black listed, too."

"No." Weiss whispered, shaking her head to clear it of the low buzzing that had started in the back of her skull.

This had happened before. Being attached to Marines meant wading through the roughest parts of the territory and marching at the front of the line. Blake had seen her share of fire fights, patching up the Marines as they were wounded. She'd even lost one on her first tour- something she still had nightmares about.

But this hadn't happened when Weiss was in the same hemisphere, learning the vague details in real time. It was always after the fact that she found out how close her girlfriend came to death.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" The Soldier yelled, slamming a fist onto the counter. "Who're they sending out there, then? There's at least three combat ready companies on this damn base; who's going to bail them out?"

"C-command hasn't authorized any missions outside the wire."

Reinforcements weren't on the way. The situation was entirely unknown. The love of her life was stranded without help.

Oh fuck no.

"Captain Schnee." Ren's voice was low, warning her that he could see the thoughts in her eyes.

She didn't care. Spinning on heel, Weiss marched right back out to the flight line. Briefly, she considered going back to her bird but discarded it immediately; there was no room to land a C-130 at the outpost.

There was no other option; she'd have to take one of the blackhawks. They were usually kept on standby anyway, so if she picked one of the ones at the front of the line, she could take off before anyone could try to stop her. Well, anyone who might actually try to stop her, at any rate.

"This is monumentally stupid," Ren said as he caught up, falling in step beside her. "We're going to get in trouble for this."

"I will; if anyone asks, I put a gun to your head."

He gave a short, mirthless chuckle. "At least they'll believe it."

They stopped at the first blackhawk they came to, climbing into the open side door and looking around. Wherever the crew was, they hadn't bothered to secure their bird before departing; the good news was that there were machine guns already mounted for the door seats, if they encountered resistance. Unfortunately, whoever was assigned to this blackhawk was about to be in a world of trouble right along with her, but her well of sympathy was startlingly dry at present.

"I'll start pre-flight; you take the chocks out," she said, throwing her pack in one of the empty seats and hopping out of the aircraft to get to the pilot's seat. Before she could, however, Weiss found herself grabbed and roughly fetched up against the metal hull. On pure instinct, she drew the pistol at her hip, shoving the barrel just beneath her attacker's body vest, scowling vehemently at the woman holding her. "Look, I don't want to shoot you, but you're not stopping me."

"Where are you going?" Lilac eyes flashed as the Soldier from the terminal snarled in her face, obviously unintimidated by the threat.

"I'm going to Beacon." Weiss clicked off the safety. "Now back off."

As she'd hoped, the Soldier released her- which was wonderful, really, because she didn't have a bullet in the chamber- and had the temerity to smile. "Good. Looks like we're going the same way."

"Excuse me?"

"Ma'am, I'm not going to sit here and argue with you." The Soldier furrowed her brows, becoming serious in the blink of an eye. "My sister's out there right now; she's a commo tech. If those desk jockies can't get in touch with them..."

Weiss didn't need to hear any more, her eyes darting down to read the Soldier's nametape. "Get on the door, Specialist Xiao Long."

"Roger that." Xiao Long smiled again as she slid the pack from her back, throwing it into the blackhawk. "By the way, I'm bringing a friend."

Blinking, Weiss turned her head to acknowledge the Marine standing just behind the Soldier, a hint of worry in her eyes. "I'm sorry about that, Ma'am, but those are my guys out there. I can't just sit here."

"I understand, Sergeant Nikos." She let out a sigh, holstering her side arm. "Do you... know a corpsman named Petty Officer Belladonna?"

"Doc Donna? Of course." Sergeant Nikos nodded, an easy smile on her lips. "She's saved a lot of my Marines." She blinked, realization dawning upon her. "Uh, forgive me for being presumptuous, Ma'am... but she's mentioned her girlfriend in the Air Force before-"

"Now you understand why I need to get there, too," Weiss said evenly, turning towards the pilot's door. "Take your post, Sergeant."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Wasting no more time, she hopped up into the pilot seat, biting her lip as she scanned the control panel. Although markedly more nuanced than a consumer helicopter, all the basics should be the same. Only time would tell.

As she went about turning the systems on, Ren climbed into the co-pilot's seat, strapping in and sighing heavily. "How long until we lift off?"

She glanced at him briefly, hand already on the switch. "Three minutes from engine start."
"And how long until someone charges out here to stop us?"

The motor roared to life, the blades slowly starting to spin before picking up speed. "Probably less than that."

"Excellent." He pulled on the helmet already hooked into the blackhawk's comm systems as Weiss did the same. It wasn't her helmet, so the fit was awful, but it was better than nothing.

"Hey, this is pretty cool! I've never been in one of these things before!" Weiss winced, Xiao Long's voice loud as it came over the speaker in her ear.

"Well, that's good," she replied, reaching over head to flick more switches. "As long as we're being honest, I've never flown one of these things before."

"You're kidding right? Someone, please tell me she's kidding."

"It's either hope she knows what she's doing or wait here for word," Ren calmly said, helping her turn on the flight systems. "You can still get off, Specialist Xiao Long."

"Yeah, with all due respect, Sir, fuck that!" The Soldier laughed. "And it's Yang, by the way. We're probably going to be civilians after this anyway. Might as well be properly introduced."

Her co-pilot glanced over his shoulder. "Ren."

"Pyrrha," the Marine said. "And we've got company."

Blue eyes danced away from the controls to note the figures running from the terminal towards them, a few looking armed. "And I'm Weiss, your captain for this evening. Make sure you're strapped in and don't bother complaining about my flying."

"Well, that's comforting."

"What are we going to do?" Ren glanced at the controls, noting they still weren't up to rotating speed for take-off.

"We make them work for it," she replied, taking the controls into her hand and easing the blackhawk out of its spot, moving onto the runway. She turned away from the terminal, increasing the distance the interlopers would have to run to even have a shot of stopping them. "Get ready."

Ren grabbed hold of the controls as they straightened out on the runway, the comm line crackling to life as the control tower tried to order them to halt. He reached over and shut it off, frowning slightly.

"You realize that was Colonel Oobleck, right?"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Like we stood a chance of not being identified."

"Fair point." He glanced at the gauges. "We're up to speed."

She nodded, easing back on the control stick. It took a moment for the heavier blackhawk to respond in comparison to the family chopper but they were airborne and nothing was blaring at them, so she considered it a success.

Once they were in the air, Ren pulled out a map that was stuffed between his seat and the console. "We need to shift bearing... thirteen degrees north."

"Copy." She made the adjustments, fighting to keep her mind focused on flying and not on how long it would take them to get to Beacon Outpost.

Or what they might find once they landed.

---

Three hours. It took them three fucking hours to get within two clicks of Beacon Outpost, pushing the blackhawk as fast as she dared. The wait was agonizing, the silence only broken by Yang's attempts to be positive and lighten the mood. On some level, Weiss was thankful for the Soldier's remarks but she didn't dare think too hard on what could be awaiting them. She was afraid to hope and equally afraid to confront her own fears.

"We're almost there," Ren said, reaching over to fiddle with the comm system. "Maybe they have some sort of short band-"

Warnings blared as a red light flashed on the console, thankfully matching the system they were accustomed to dealing with in their bird: a projectile warning system.

"Hang on!" Pulling hard on the control stick, Weiss grunted with effort as the blackhawk lurched to the side. Only then did she see the white trail left behind as the rocket soared past them, originating from a sharp cliff on one side of a ravine. Across the ravine was Beacon Outpost and they'd apparently stumbled upon the base of operations for the enemy, a small group of armored trucks arranged about a tent. How had they managed to get within their territory to set up a base? "Pyrrha! Yang!"

"On it!" The Soldier whooped, kicking out of the door, seeing as she had the best line of sight on the target. A moment later, the burst of machine gun fire erupted from behind them, sending dirt flying far below.

"It would help if you actually hit them!" Weiss groused, trying to strafe the blackhawk into a better position for Yang to fire.

"Hey, you wanna switch places?" More bursts followed the question, this time impacting something far below that had small, ant like dots scrambling. "I've always wanted to fly!"

"Well, I don't feel like crashing! Or dying!" She felt the need to clarify, jerking the controls again as the warning blared, yet another rocket flying past them. "And why do they have surface-to-air missiles? Who gave them the right?"

"This might be why Command didn't send in reinforcements." There was Ren, being ever so helpful as usual. "Move to flank them; they have some sort of ammo cache on the south side."

"Copy." She grumbled, spinning the blackhawk around as the Soldier ran low on ammo so Pyrrha could begin firing.

Thankfully, her aim was much better, the first burst making something explode down below.

Something Yang immediately took note of as she slapped a new belt of rounds into position. "Did you just blow up a truck!?"

"The better question is why did that truck explode and I don't think we really want to know." Ren sighed, looking to his right. "Uh oh."

Although that utterance drew curious half questions from the Soldier and Marine, Weiss was already bracing for the turbulence coming their way. He always did that 'uh oh' whenever they were about to get rocked and, sure enough, a strong burst of wind hit them not four seconds later.

"Shit!" That pretty much summed it up as they were thrown slightly, losing a bit of altitude in the process. Thankfully, Pyrrha didn't need any prompting to start firing again. Unfortunately, her aim was thrown off again as the blackhawk was shifted aside to dodge another rocket. "How many of those damn things do they have!?"

"Less talking, more shooting, Yang!" Weiss shouted, a bit of panic rising within her as they dropped a hundred feet, a combination of the turbulence and maneuvering robbing her of much needed thrust. "I can't dodge these things all day!"

To add to their streak of bad luck, telltale pings of bullets ricocheting off metal had Weiss cursing under her breath as she tried pulling them back out of range.

"Wait! Hold steady, I think I got it!" The Soldier uselessly flailed one arm. "Move that way a bit!"

"Is she seriously-"

"Strafe left!" Pyrrha helpfully supplied, which Weiss immediately did as the next burst came, impacting the weapons cache.

"Yeah!" Whatever they had hidden down there, it was big, the resulting explosion sending two of the nearby trucks toppling over as a chain reaction engulfed the impromptu command station.

Ren carefully scanned the area through the cockpit window. "I don't see any movement."

"I'm going to continue towards the outpost." Weiss sighed, trying to smooth her rattled nerves. "Pyrrha, Yang, keep an eye out for any movement."

"Roger that! Let's get these bastards!"

Cautiously easing forward on the controls, she and Ren focused on the area ahead of them, relying on the Marine and Soldier to keep an eye on the flanks. The next click was nothing but, as they neared the ravine, Yang caught sight of a line of crude mortar nests, which she was all too happy to light up now that she'd gotten the hang of the door gun. It was hard to see them, on account of the trees, but once they'd destroyed the visible ones, they moved on and crossed the ravine, finally coming upon Beacon Outpost.

What remained was an absolute wreck. They'd obviously received steady mortar fire for the majority of the past day, the barricades just barely holding up and most of the tens obliterated.

"My God." Pyrrha's horror was palpable and sent a weight settling in the pit of her gut.

Please, please let someone be down there. They couldn't be too late. No no no-

"We've got smoke." Ren leaned forward a bit, peering at the outpost. "West side, fifty meters out."

Coming back to her senses, Weiss spotted the newly popped smoke grenade spewing purple smoke, angling the blackhawk that way. There were only two halfway decent landing zones in the immediate area, the smoke designating a clearing on the west side of the outer barricades; it wasn't ideal, but she could do it. Theoretically, anyway.

"Hang on." She muttered, easing the blackhawk down as gently as she could manage, the blades kicking up dirt as she angled the tail onto solid ground while Ren constantly recited their distance from the ground. Still, they touched down a little more forcefully than Weiss had intended, jolting the lot of them. She steadfastly ignored the barely contained curse from Yang as she settled the full weight of the bird on its tires, cutting the rotars and removing her helmet. There were half a dozen post flight checks to do but she couldn't be bothered with it at present, throwing open the pilot door as Pyrrha and Yang hopped out of the sides.

"Sergeant Nikos!" Weiss started stalking towards the outpost even as a Marine rushed towards them, the blood staining his uniform spurring her to move faster. "Thank God you're back. It's been hell since last night, just constant explosions and- and fighting and-"

"Arc!" Pyrrha raised her voice just barely to get the man's attention as Weiss passed him, more intent on checking the outpost herself. "Slow down and give me the sit rep. One thing at a time."

Not wasting her time with the stuttering mess of a Lance Corporal, Weiss ducked around the barricades to enter the outpost proper, or what remained of it. There were craters all around, some much larger than others indicating multiple hits, a few still faintly smoking. Although they'd been impossible to see from above, Marines were stationed by every bit of remaining cover to be found, crouched or lying prone as they peered across the ravine. There were a few Soldiers there too, darting between the few remaining tents and bunkers that survived the assault. One such Soldier- much shorter than she'd expected, even given her diminutive stature- nearly ran straight into her, a bundle of scavenged medical supplies in her arms.

"You. Where's the casualty collection point?" Keeping her tone civil was beyond imagining at this point, the words clipped as she stared down the other woman. If Blake would be anywhere, it would be there, tending to the wounded as best she could. That was something they had in common- getting lost in their work when stressful situations worsened; it distracted from the parts they couldn't deal with, couldn't change themselves. Most would call it avoidance but they preferred to think of it as channeling their anger into more productive means.

"Oh, uh, in that tent over there, Ma'am!" The Soldier blinked several times, her silver eyes somewhat glazed over from exhaustion. Once the question fully registered, she jerked her head towards one of the still standing tents on the far side of the outpost, apparently just out of range of the mortar attacks. "I was just heading there. I could- Yang!"

"Sis!" In the blink of an eye, the blonde was beside her, reaching out to grab the smaller Soldier and pull her into a crushing hug. "Oh, you're alright!"

"What are you doing here?" Although apparently happy, Weiss could hear the undercurrent of worry in the smaller woman's tone and opted to skip on the sibling argument on the horizon. She had the information she needed, so she grabbed the load of supplies from Yang's sister and proceeded towards the tent.

As she reached the partially open flap, the groaning of men and women in pain reached her ears, sending a chill down her spine. Mentally bracing herself, she ducked beneath the flap and fought not to betray any hint of emotion as she was faced with the brutal reality of a hastily made field hospital that severely lacked in supplies. Cots and stretchers littered the floor, each filled with either the semi-conscious and pain-wracked or the unconscious and... possibly dead. Forcing the rolling in her stomach to abate, Weiss moved her stiff legs, one in front of the other while looking for her girlfriend's distinctive raven locks, her amber eyes, something... anything.

"Doc, you don't look so good," a Marine in the back of the tent said, looking at the figure crouched over him.

Weiss' heart stopped, recognizing the uniform as that of Navy personnel attached to a Marine unit. A corpsman's uniform. There was a bandage wrapped around the corpsman's right arm, blood already showing through the gauze, and a similarly bloodied one on the right side of her face. When she turned to look at the Marine, there was no doubt.

That was her beloved girlfriend, blood stained and pushing herself far past her limits, paler than even Weiss' perpetually fair skin. Every bit of her was covered in dirt, grime, and blood, and she had the sinking feeling that not all of the blood wasn't hers. The woman's usual steady touch was gone, hands faintly trembling as she worked to set a splint on the Marine's leg.

"I'll be fine." Blake forced herself to stand on wobbly legs. "A cat nap and I'll be good to go. As soon as Rose gets back." She turned, likely to check on one of the others in the tent when those amber eyes, dulled by pain and lack of sleep, fell on Weiss. The woman came to a dead stop, blinking slowly before putting her good hand to her forehead. "Or maybe I'll... sit down now."

"Doc?" The wounded Marine tried to sit up, groaning as he did so. He looked at Weiss, raising a brow before returning his gaze to the corpsman. "You okay?"

"I don't know, Wukong." Blake gave a mirthless chuckle and motioned towards Weiss. "Is there actually a five foot tall Air Force goddess standing in front of me or has the blood loss finally taken its toll? I must be hallucinating."

Again, the wounded Marine looked at her, waiting for a negative reaction of some sort. When none came, he shrugged. "Uh, no, she's standing right there. Oh, wait- that your girlfriend?"

That confirmation sent a shock through Blake and finally snapped Weiss out of her stupor.

"Blake." Dumping the supplies in her arms onto the nearest cot, she rushed forward around the same time Blake's legs gave out on her, catching her girlfriend in her arms. It wasn't easy- Blake was a good thirty pounds heavier at least, much more when in her gear- but she'd come too fucking far to allow herself such an unforgivable mistake as dropping her beloved. Struggling only slightly, Weiss drug the corpsman over to a nearby field chair, easing her into it despite her groaning. "Blake, talk to me. What can I do? What do you need?"

"Weiss, why are you here?" She reached out with her good hand, brushing a thumb beneath the pilot's eye. It was as gentle as ever, regardless of the effort concentrating on such an act showing plain as day in those dull amber eyes. "You should be back at the air base, where it's safe."

"Blake Belladonna, I did not steal a military helicopter and fly for three hours- nearly getting shot out of the sky in the process, mind you- to get a lecture on staying safe!" Despite the whisper she was using in light of their location, the words were no less forceful as she scowled at her girlfriend. "Like hell I was going to sit back and wait for word when I was fully capable of doing otherwise. Now, stop being stubborn and tell me what you need me to do!"

Blake's eyes went wide. "You stole a what?"

"Damn, Doc, your girl's scary and awesome. She's scary awesome."

"Would someone shut him up?" Another Marine groused, holding what looked to be an ice pack against a cut over his eye while nursing a broken arm.

"Both of you, can it. That's an order." Weiss snapped, briefly glaring over her shoulder at the offending parties. Both Marines ducked their heads a little, sufficiently cowed. When she fixed her gaze on her girlfriend again, she softened her expression though she was no less forceful in her wording. "Don't make me pull rank on you, Belladonna. What. Do you need. Me to do?"

Blake sighed, scrubbing at her face briefly. "You aren't trained-"

"You taught me to drive stick; I hardly consider anything within our power here to be more difficult than that." She grumbled, turning to collect the supplies once more. "It's not surgery or rocket science."

"I... don't think stick's that hard to learn." Wukong chimed in, earning himself another cold glare.

"You've never ridden with her." Her girlfriend muttered, though she sobered up instantly. "Fine, I should know better by this point than to waste time arguing." She sighed, shifting into a more comfortable position. "You need to go through and check the ABCs- airway, bleeding, and circulation. Focus on the first two. Listen to make sure their breathing is even- no gurgling, no wheezing- and then check to see if anyone's still bleeding."

"Pay special attention to arterial bleeds- bright red blood pumping out in time with the heart." Weiss blinked, unsure when Yang had entered the tent but glad for the extra set of hands. "We need to stop as much blood loss as possible if these guys are going to pull through."

"Right." Blake nodded, wincing slightly with the action. "Are you a medic?"

"Nah, but I took a combat life saver's course, once. I remember the important stuff." The Soldier smiled, shifting her lilac gaze to the pilot. "So, this the gal I have to thank for us being here, huh?"

"Yes."

The corpsman winced. "Did she really steal-"

"A blackhawk? Hell yeah, she did! Almost shot me when she thought I was trying to stop her." Yang laughed, her cheery attitude at once a complete contrast to the pain filled wounded around them and, yet, somehow drawing weak grins from those conscious enough to understand the conversation. "I've never met an officer that all out crazy! I mean, the good kind of crazy, ya know? The bad kind of crazy is actually pretty common..."

"Although I'm sure we're all facing steep criminal charges, I'm not above adding assault to that list, Yang," the pilot said flippantly, starting with the nearest bed. She tried to temper her tone, offering small smiles to the men and women she was checking over. "Let's get to work."

Some wounds were relatively minor- and by that, she could at least see them surviving another twelve hours without immediate medical supervision- with bad burns and lacerations that dug deep into the muscle but were no longer bleeding heavily. Others... were worse off. When she came to the fifth cot in the line, she bent her head down to listen for the Marine's breathing like she had for the others.

Except, there was nothing to listen for, the lack of sound... and movement... plus the unpleasant smell beginning to waft up... the realization dawned on her so slowly, it sent a shiver through her frame and tears stinging at her eyes. She looked over her shoulder to her girlfriend and something in her face must've showed, those amber eyes dimming just a little more as the corpsman's shoulders fell.

Her gaze lowered to the floor, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth to bite into it and clenching her good hand into a fist that turned her knuckles white. For a moment, Weiss was torn between going to her beloved and continuing with her task, but she dutifully grabbed the field blanket draping the Marine's body and pulled it up, over her head. Weiss stood, swallowing past the lump in her throat and raising her right hand in a salute.

"Rest easy, sleep well, Marine. Know that the line had held, your job is done." The words were as steady as she could make them, dimly aware that everyone was watching her. She couldn't remember where she'd seen or heard the words before but they were all that came to mind, the only thing she could think to say. Blake probably knew the Marine but she didn't, and now never would. "Rest easy. Sleep well."

She lowered her hand, blinking the world back into focus. A quick gaze around the tent confirmed the wounded had watched her do that but she didn't care; all she could think about was how many more times she'd do it before this nightmare would be over. In the back of her mind, she'd never truly understood what Blake had meant when she talked about losing a Marine she'd served with, tended to on the battlefield.

Now, she had a better idea and it made her heart ache that she'd never be able to fully heal the wounds her lover bore.

Then the sound of shouting pierced the quiet, followed by a string of steady shots coming from the east side of the outpost.

No... No... NO!

"No." She growled, drawing her pistol and stalking through the tent. "Not one more."

"Weiss!" Blake called after her; for both of them, she ignored the plea to remain in the relative safety of the tent.

"Ma'am! Weiss! Hey!" Yang hurried after her, trying to grab her arm; she yanked away, zeroing in on the eastern barricades as more shots rang out. "You've got a pistol and no body armor! You can't go up there! You'll get yourself killed!"

"Or- and here's a thought- you can go get a bigger gun and we can drive these bastards back!" Weiss reached out, grabbing the front of the blonde's body vest. "These Marines, these Soldiers- they need every ounce of help they can get, and we both know that there's none coming, not anytime soon." She pushed Yang back, turning back towards the east. "Either sit in the tent or get on the line; just stay out of my way."

She'd taken three steps when Yang's voice rang out. "Damn, I'm never calling you guys the 'chair force' again!"

"Duly noted!"

She rolled her eyes, walking around a concrete bunker and flicking off the safety of her weapon. So fixated on getting to the barricades, Weiss wasn't paying attention to much else until a bullet whizzed by her. She ducked belatedly, heart hammering in her chest as the weight of her spur-of-the-moment decision descended upon her. This wasn't a training exercise or a range; this was actual combat.

Still, she moved forward, crouching as she ran to the left side of the barricades. She found a spot between two Marines, both of them clutching their rifles and waiting, hardly flinching as bullets impacted the other side of their cover. Weiss waited, trying to calm her racing heart while adjusting her grip on the pistol, waiting for a break in the fire to allow for a counter attack. At least, that's what she thought they were waiting on- honestly, she was having trouble remembering much aside from the basics of marksmanship at this point.

When the Marines shifted, preparing to stand, she did the same, using her right to steady the weapon. In a burst, the three of them stood up, hardly a second passing before the first shots rang out. It was a dizzying assault on her hearing, lacking any sort of protection- unlike every other time she'd fired her issued side arm- but she pushed through it, aiming as best she could at the figures dashing between the trees and rocks a scant hundred meters from the barricades. Whether or not she hit was anyone's guess but, as the Marines ducked back down, she was slower to move and paid the price quickly.

At first, all she felt was shock. In her head, she registered the searing pain in her right arm, but she didn't really feel it, not in the traditional sense. She was so stunned by the fact that she'd just been shot, she stumbled backwards instead of dropping down. It was like there was something jammed in the gears of her brain, preventing her body from moving even as she noticed her lack of movement was a very, very bad thing.

Thankfully, someone took note of her distress and knocked her to the ground, effectively winding her but saving her from catching another bullet all the same.

"Weiss." She blinked, turning her head to look up at Ren as he got off her, his face as impassive as ever. "I came out here to help you save your future wife, not to watch you get killed. Focus."

"Yeah... right." She shook her head, forcing her mind back on track. "Of course. Now, kindly get off of me. And thank you."

"At least you still have your manners," he replied, drawing his own pistol and helping her back to the barricade.

Luckily, the bullet tore through the meaty portion of her upper arm, shredding her deltoid but missing any vital arteries. The blood loss was a bit disconcerting though, but nothing she couldn't handle.

Not when weighed against the stakes, at least.

At another break in fire, the two Marines, Ren, and herself all jumped up, unleashing fresh hell on the thinned enemy ranks. Added to that, far to her right was the unmistakeable whooping and hollering she'd come to expect from Yang despite the relatively brief time knowing the woman, interspersed with machine gun fire. Unable to properly lift her right arm, Weiss settled for taking one handed shots, decreasing her firing speed to make each round count and ducking back down in time with the others.

What followed was an uneasy quiet- no more shooting, no movement. Finally, someone poked their head up enough to get a good look.

"All clear!"

Weiss released the breath she hadn't noticed she'd been holding, clumsily activating the weapon's safety and holstering it.

"Come on; we need to get you to the CCP." Ren sighed, taking firm hold of her left arm to guide her that away, apparently unconvinced she would do so under her own power. "Your girlfriend is going to be pissed when she sees you."

"It's not that bad." She muttered, wincing slightly as the agony pushed through her adrenaline rush. Objectively, it wasn't that bad, and there was a tent full of wounded to attest to that; however, it felt awful, a sharp stabbing pain that reached from the tips of her fingers all the way to the center of her chest, throbbing worse with every minute movement of the muscle. She'd never noticed how much she moved her arms when she walked until this moment.

As predicted, her return to the tent was heralded with a very heated scowl and cry from her beloved.

"What the hell, Weiss?" Blake got to her feet unsteadily, stumbling slightly as she marched between the cots to inspect the wound herself. "What were you thinking? You're not outfitted for combat!"

"In my defense, I'm pretty sure body armor wouldn't have helped me much."

"Unless you were in the Army." The short Soldier from earlier- Yang's sister, apparently- shrugged from her spot beside one of the cots, calling attention to the padding covering her upper arms.

Damnit. "... and I stand corrected."

"Just... just sit down, Weiss." Her girlfriend sighed, collecting some gauze and a field bandage from the Soldier. "Let me look at it. Take off your top."

"Wow, Doc Donna, you move fast!" The Marine from earlier- Wukong?- called from the back of the tent. "You want us to close our eyes?"

"Do I not want you lechers oggling my girlfriend? Yes, actually, I'd appreciate that." The corpsman groused, shaking her head slightly as a few of the wounded gave weak chuckles. "Pack of animals, the lot of them."

"But you love them. You wouldn't be here, otherwise," Weiss said, tugging on the zipper of her flight suit and hissing as she pulled her arm free of the sleeve. Thankfully, she always wore her undershirt, though she sent a glare Wukong's way regardless to discourage any prying eyes. Even something as small as that took effort, though, which was quickly robbing her of her strength. The pain was making her dizzy and instantly grateful that she'd done as ordered and sat down rather than attempted to remain standing.

"I love you, for all your insufferable, stubborn, head strong, insane pride." Blake knelt down, steadying herself before squinting at the bleeding wound, using a bit of gauze to clean it up. To her credit, her patient tried valiantly not to wince, despite the ministrations being far more uncoordinated than usual. "I can't believe you did this, Weiss. This will be the end of your career-"

"Oh, please." She huffed, turning her head slightly so she couldn't see exactly what was being doe to her. Feeling it was nauseating enough. "Like you wouldn't have done the same if our positions were reversed."

"I wouldn't have stolen a helicopter."

"That's because you don't know how to fly one."

"You're the only person I know who can make having knowledge sound like a bad thing." Blake sighed again, fumbling as she unwrapped the bandage. Once she got it out, she paused, shoulders sagging as their gazes met briefly before she looked away. "I haven't seen you in months and now you're bleeding and I... I can't..."

"Sh." Weiss reached out with her left hand, being sure to take care as she gently tipped her girlfriend's chin so she could see those beautiful amber eyes. "This is who you are, Blake Belladonna, and I know there's nowhere you'd rather be right now than tending to your Marines. There's no place I'd rather be than by your side. Don't hold this against me, or yourself. This is who we are."

Tears welled in her eyes as she leaned up, their lips brushing together so lightly it sent tingles down the pilot's spine. "You are an impossible woman, Weiss Schnee. And I absolutely adore you for it." She sighed, wrapping her up in a loose hug, careful of their injuries. "But, for the record, I'd rather be with you on a beach, relaxing in the sun."

"When this is over, I'll hold you to that." Weiss smiled, leaning in for another kiss as she returned the loose embrace.

After a moment of just holding each other, the two separated as Blake returned to bandaging her wound. For her part, the pilot fought not to fidget, waiting until the gauze was secured over the bandage before reaching up to inspect her girlfriend's bandages.

"When I was pulling Wukong out of range, one of the mortar rounds impacted a few meters away." Blake shrugged, fighting not to wince at the action. "It's not as bad as it looks but the lacerations were deep. I might have a scar or two."

"And you'll still be beautiful." She bit her lip lightly. "Should I change it?"

"We don't have the supplies." The corpsman shook her head. "I'll be okay, Weiss."

Summoning her courage, she quirked her lips into a small grin. Granted, it wasn't the perfect time nor place, but she was quickly becoming vexed every time she moved, feeling the little black box in her pocket. It didn't belong there; it belonged with the woman in front of her, and it was high time she made her intentions known. "You'd better be. I'd get some strange looks if I mar-"

"Captain Schnee?"

Weiss fought not to groan aloud though her expression quickly soured. However, once her gaze landed on the Marine, she schooled herself and tried to not sound nearly as displeased as she was. "Sergeant Nikos. Can I help you?"

The woman sighed. "I hope so, Ma'am."

She shifted her blue eyes to Blake, noting the same carefully constructed facade of calm adorning her love's face. "I should get back to my rounds."

"I'll be back soon." They exchanged another kiss- this one a bit more forceful than the others, a promise to pick up the conversation again, soon- before going their separate ways, Weiss shrugging her flight suit back on as she went. Pyrrha motioned for Specialist Rose to follow her as well as they exited, heading towards one of the bunkers.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, Ma'am, but I need input. If we don't come up with a plan soon, we're going to be overrun." Pyrrha began as they ducked into the bunker, a small slab of wood acting as a table bearing a map and little else. "You and Captain Lie are the only officers here right now."

"Wouldn't a Marine be better suited to this, even if they are enlisted?" Not that she was against providing whatever aid she could; combat tactics classes were decidedly absent from her past training.

"That's the thing, Ma'am. I'm the highest ranking enlisted left." The haunted tint to the words instantly drew Weiss attention to how hard Pyrrha was working to keep herself together. "Combined, we're the closest thing to a command structure this place has at present."

She sighed, shaking her head slightly to dispel any lingering doubts. "Very well then, Sergeant. What's the situation?"

It took the Marine a moment to steady herself before she spoke. "Between the wounded and the dead, the Marine platoon stationed here is at half strength. We've also got about a platoon of Soldiers here, mostly support roles. Combined, we've barely got enough ammo for one last stand. No electricity, potable water's low, we've barely got enough medical supplies for our wounded, and about the only things on the outpost that's relatively undamaged is an LMTV and the blackhawk."

Weiss closed her eyes, taking in the information. "What about communications?"

"Specialist Rose?"

"Huh? Oh, right." Clearing her throat, the small Soldier adopted a serious tone, a frown on her lips. "They took out our generators last night. We used batteries for as long as they lasted but, without a power source, there's nothing I can to do re-establish contact with my unit or anyone else's. But... the blackhawk has a radio, doesn't it?" The pilot nodded. "Okay, I can try hailing someone on the emergency channels, but the whole reason I'm out here is because radio communications were having trouble getting through. I don't know if they were jamming the signal so there's a chance we won't be able to make contact with anyone."

"What about the LMTV?" She searched her memory, eventually pairing the moniker with the Army's equivalent of an eighteen wheeler. "Can it still move?"

"Yes, but there's not enough room for everyone." Removing her helmet, the Marine ran a hand through her bright red hair. "At least, we wouldn't be able to transport the wounded and the dead at the same time as the living. Not without laying people on top of each other and strapping them down."

"I understand. Is there anything in the LMTV that could help?"

This time, it was Rose who shook her head. "Just sixteen jugs of JP8; they were trying to get a fuel truck out here, but the route's been under heavy attack for the past month."

"They were trying to cut the supply line." Weiss hung her head, trying to examine the situation from every angle. Even if they could get in touch with the air controllers, it would be at least three hours before back up arrived. With limited supplies, they might not survive that long, and with the sun already dipping towards the western horizon, that would put any air support back another hour to make adjustments for night flying. "Where's the nearest outpost?"

"Haven- where my unit is." Rose scrubbed at her face. "It took us about an hour to get here in the LMTV."

Well, that's better. "Is there anyway we can buy time until then? Do we have any idea of the enemy's present strength?"

"There's too many." Pyrrha crouched down to point at the map. "A couple of my Marines tracked the enemy's movement last night using night vision goggles before the batteries died. At least two hundred went east, to a bridge that crosses the ravine. That little skirmish at the eastern barricades was their scout group; there's still at least a hundred and fifty left in the forest somewhere. Given their tactics last night, I suspect they'll aim to begin their assault in earnest after sundown, using the darkness to their advantage."

"Can they surround us?"

"They could, but it would be extremely dangerous to do so now." Pyrrha pointed at a marking on the map. "This is a very steep cliff that runs due north of us; they'd have to climb the damn thing first or risk getting within sight of our sentries to go around it. That's what makes me think they'll wait until nightfall. Going around the other way would give us at least a day."

"So, they're most likely heading our way from the east. They outnumber us, outgun us, and we've little to no hope of timely reinforcements." The pilot knelt down, staring at the map and willing it to provide them a safe escape route. It didn't comply, of course, but that just made her expression twist into one of absolute annoyance. "Would it be too much to ask for the entire forest to spontaneously catch fire? It would at least buy us time."

While Pyrrha gave a mirthless chuckle, Specialist Rose tilted her head slightly. "Well, we do have a lot of gas and nothing to use it with. And there hasn't been any rain in the area for weeks."

Weiss blinked, not daring to hope that her flippant suggestion was anything substantial. "Are you being serious? It would take more than a match to set JP8 on fire."

"Yeah, but there should be a flare or two in the LMTV's road kit and the enemy might not know that." The Soldier furrowed her brows, looking at the map. "If you were to fly over the forest, starting at the ridge, and someone pushed the open containers out and threw a flare down after them, it would probably work. Even if it doesn't catch immediately, the smell will probably drive the enemy back at least a little. That stuff smells awful. And flammable."

"The EPA won't be very happy about it... but it might work." Pyrrha leaned over the map again. "Even if it buys us only an hour or two, that's more time than we'd have otherwise."

"Very well." She couldn't believe they were actually going to set an entire forest on fire. "Let's try the radio first. I'd rather not set fire to everything around us before confirming there's help on the way."

Nodding, the three exited the bunker, Pyrrha heading to round up some bodies to move the jugs of fuel while the other two went for the blackhawk.

"Ma'am, thanks for not shooting my sister, by the way." Rose smiled, seeming far too upbeat, all things considered. "I know Yang can be a little blunt and not-exactly-friendly when she wants her way bad enough."

"Don't worry about it." Weiss shrugged. "Given my state of mind, I can hardly blame her for being worried about you. And... call me Weiss. I doubt I'll have the rank to warrant a title once this is said and done."

She might as well relinquish that particular habit now.

"Oh, okay, I'm Ruby!" The Soldier clapped her hands excitedly as they reached the blackhawk, getting in on the co-pilot's side. "Nice to meet you!"

"I sincerely wish it was under better circumstances." Weiss flicked on the bare minimum systems, nodding for Ruby to begin fiddling with the radio. They both slipped on the helmets, Weiss so she could listen while Ruby transmitted.

"Net call, net call, this is Beacon outpost, does anyone read? Over." They both held their breath, listening for anything to come back across the line. "Net call, net call, this is Beacon outpost; is there anyone on this channel? Over."

"Beacon, this is Haven, we read you five-by-five. That you Crescent?"

"Yes!" The Soldier did a dance in her seat, silver eyes shining as she released the mic. "That's Private Polendina; she's a friend of mine!"

"Great. Hopefully, she can help us." Weiss relaxed back into the pilot's seat, sighing in relief. Although she didn't expect much of anyone to be particularly vested in the assertions of a Private, hopefully the familiar connection will sway someone into action.

"Puppet, this is Crescent; we're running low on milk and cookies. Think you could grab some?"

... what in the wide world of Remnant was she going on about?

"Sure thing! What time are you heading to bed?"

"After sundown. It's been a long day." Ruby release the mic for a moment before nodding. "And mind the campfire; it might get a little toasty."

"Roger that! Monitor this freq."

Slipping off the helmet, Ruby smiled. "I'll stay out here in case they try to contact us again."

"Were the code words utterly necessary?"

"Nah, that's just something we like to do to goof off." The Soldier laughed. "Plus, now she knows I'm not being forced to transmit against my will!"

Unsure what else she could say, Weiss nodded. "Alright then. I'll try to find someone to come out here with you. If you get anything, send them to find myself or Sergeant Nikos."

"Will do, Weiss!"

Dismounting the blackhawk, the pilot went back into the outpost, sighing as she scrubbed at her eyes. Her arm was throbbing in pain but she pushed it to the side for the time being, seeking out Ren. Technically, if anyone was in command, it would be him, though she sincerely doubted he would make a fuss over it. Thankfully, her task was rather easy as he was helping carry the jugs of fuel alongside a bouncy, pink haired Soldier.

"Pyrrha explained everything," he said the moment she was close enough, the look in his eyes immediately telling her that he rightly couldn't give a damn about time in grade at present. "When are we taking off?"

"Shortly before sundown," she replied, glancing at the horizon. "We'll need to pre-empt their troop movements to buy ourselves time. Oh, and could you have someone sit out with Specialist Rose? She's trying to get us reinforcements."

"Absolutely." He nodded, offering her a small smile. "You know, there's a chance they'll fire on us as we're passing overhead. Small arms fire isn't good for the rotars."

She'd acknowledged the risk and immediately discarded it. They didn't have the luxury of cowardice at this point. "We'll just have to outrun the bullets, then."

"Wow, this is your co-pilot?" The pink haired Soldier laughed. "You're really fierce! That's great!"

"Oh, my apologies. Nora, this is Captain Weiss Schnee, my co-pilot on this tour. Weiss, this is Sergeant Nora Valkyrie, my friend from school." Ren smiled, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder before she could get going.

He'd mentioned her several times over the past few months; they'd been through everything from pre-school to college together, but Nora had chosen to enlist in the Army instead of being commissioned. Apparently, she had a tendancy to ramble, so Weiss took the opportunity to leave the conversation when it was presented and went back to the CCP.

Stepping into the tent, she immediately became alarmed when she didn't immediately find Blake bend over one of the cots.

"Weiss! Over here!" Yang waved from the back of the tent and the pilot rushed to her, heart stuttering in her chest. Moaning in barely coherent speech, the corpsman was lying on the ground with a rolled up shirt propping her head up. "She passed out twenty minutes ago. Heart beat and breathing are pretty consistent, so I think the lack of sleep and blood just caught up with her. She should be fine."

"Should be?" Weiss hissed, dropping down to cradle her girlfriend's face in her hands. Sure enough, there was a deal more color in her cheeks than before, eyelids fluttering slightly but never opening fully. "Oh, Blake."

"Hey, can you keep an eye on everyone for a minute?" She motioned to the machine gun she'd pulled from the blackhawk. "I'm going to check the bird for more ammo."

"Go ahead." The pilot sighed, forcing herself up to check on the other wounded. Unfortunately, she came across a Soldier that had passed, drawing the sheet covering him over his head and repeating her words from earlier. She was starting to feel a tad numb, the weight of the situation sinking in slowly.

Even if Haven was able to send reinforcements, it was unlikely they'd arrive before the enemy attacked unless the forest fire plan worked. Even then, the fire might prevent those same reinforcements from reaching them quickly. Add to that the chance of being shot down while carrying out the plan...

"Not one more." She swore quietly, moving onto the next cot. "Not one more."

---

There was about an hour left until the sun set and Weiss was fighting against her nerves.

Blake had slept soundly the whole while, so she hadn't left the CCP except when Pyrrha had requested her presence, going over the new plan. Ruby managed to secure them a full company but, between mobilizing and using their vehicles to traverse the distance instead of a blackhawk, there was still at least two hours before they would arrive. Haven had also sent word back to the air base to secure them medical evacuation teams, but they were also about three hours out and reluctant to enter the airspace while the enemy was present. With help on the way, Weiss and Ren would have to be very careful about where they dropped the fuel, to try and limit exposure along the only road through the forest. If they compromised the route, the company wouldn't be able to make contact, which meant the blackhawks wouldn't approach either, and there sure as hell wasn't enough room to land more than one bird around the outpost either.

It was the perfect storm of horrible circumstances.

Sighing, Weiss sat down next to Blake, picking up the woman's hand so she could hold it. They hadn't lost any of the remaining wounded but even the pilot could tell some didn't have much time left. If those blackhawks were delayed, they might not survive, and they'd all come too damn far for that.

"M-ma'am?" She blinked, turning her head to look at the Marine who just entered the tent. He was spattered with blood and mud, standing tall despite the subtle shaking in his arms. Likely suffering from fatigue, the Marine marched up to her. "Ma'am, every time I've ever seen a blackhawk or any sort of plane, they've always had lights on 'em. You can turn those off, right?"

She weighed her answer for a moment, betraying nothing in her expression. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"I was one of the scouts; I know they've got RPGs." The Marine swallowed thickly. "I just found out about the plan and told Sergeant Nikos immediately. I thought I mentioned it before- Ma'am, are you sure-"

Ah. That would be why. "Marine, I appreciate your due diligence but I assure you, everything will be fine. Thank you for telling me."

He nodded, hesitating a moment before turning around and exiting the tent.

Truthfully, Weiss wasn't sure if she could toggle off the flight safety lights. There was likely a switch but she had no idea which one it was; the family helicopter didn't have that option, certainly. More to the point, it was one thing to dodge a bullet but dodging an RPG at close range was markedly different. Even if a few rounds pinged off the hull of the bird, they would probably be alright. Anything explosive had a much higher rate of causing problems.

If there was a way for things to get worse, that was it.

"Mmmmm." Her train of thought was derailed as Blake stirred, amber eyes fluttering open. "Weiss?"

"I'm right here, love."

The corpsman smiled. "Hey. Sorry I was out."

"Don't apologize. You need your beauty rest." She teased, brushing her fingers along her girlfriend's unwounded cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Still tired. Everything hurts." Blake sighed, eyes slipping closed again. "But I'll be up in a minute."

"Just rest for now. Yang's doing a good job keeping an eye on everyone. You've done what you can, for now." Weiss bit her lip briefly. If they went through with the plan, whoever was on that blackhawk likely wouldn't make it back. If they didn't, there likely wouldn't be a Beacon outpost for the reinforcements to save. There was only one path ahead. "But there's some things I need to tell you, so don't drop back into dreamland just yet."

Although groaning slightly, her lover forced her eyes open, listening attentively. With the barest of trembling in her hands, Weiss withdrew the black box from her pocket and pressed it into Blake's right hand.

"We have help coming but we need to stall the enemy first. We're going to use the blackhawk to set the forest on fire." She took a steadying breath, beating back the tears. "I'm going to be gone for a while so I need you to do three things for me."

Weakly, the corpsman raised a brow. "Yeah?"

"Yes. First, I need you to remember that I love you with all my heart, Blake Belladonna." She leaned forward, pressing her lips to her girlfriend's forehead, nevermind the grime covering her skin. "Second, I need you to remember all the things you love. The Marines and Soldiers you've helped save and the families who will have peace of mind knowing you did your very best to save their loved ones. The afternoon sun in autumn, curled up under the old oak with your favorite book. All those things." She pressed another kiss to the tip of Blake's nose. "And finally, I need you to remember that you can't give up. Not now, not ever. Do you understand? Can you do those for me?"

With a shallow chuckle, Blake blinked up at her. "I can. My wounds aren't that severe, Weiss. You're not going to lose me."

She forced a smile, leaning down to kiss her lover's lips. It wasn't a great kiss- Blake was just too tired to really be her usual, graceful self- but it was enough to send the tears spilling from her eyes. When she drew back, she wiped them away with her free hand, stilling holding Blake's in her other. "You know I don't want to leave you, right?"

"Of course. But it's like you said: this is who we are." With noticeable force, she quirked her lips into a smile. "I'm the medic... you're the pilot."

"That's right." Unable to help herself, she leaned in for another kiss, drawing it out as long as she dared. "Get some sleep, love."

"See ya when ya get back." Black mumbled, eyes falling shut as her energy ran out. Thanks to her injury and fatigue, she probably hadn't even noticed the little box in her hand.

Not wanting to take any chances, Weiss reached over and grabbed some duct tape that was lying not too far off, taping the woman's hand into a loose fist to ensure the box wouldn't be lost.

Realizing that time was running short, the pilot took one last look at her lover, burning the image into her mind before leaving the CCP. She scrubbed away any evidence of tears from her cheeks, forcing her emotions as far back into the recesses of her mind as she could possibly reach. There were only a few steps left and she would need everything in her to complete them.

She found Ren at the blackhawk with Ruby, both of them sitting in the cockpit. "Ren. It's time to start pre-flight."

He nodded, hopping out of the pilot's seat while Ruby exited the other side, a wide smile on her face. "Good luck you two!"

They went over the aircraft briefly, reviewing the plan. Seeing as every available hand would be needed in the event the enemy was already past the fire line, they'd opted for Ren to remain in the back while Weiss piloted solo. It wouldn't be terribly difficult, just a tad unsafe. She'd assured them it wouldn't be a problem, though.

"These are the jugs?" Blue eyes scanned the tan containers, all neatly placed inside the blackhawk and secured with five-fifty cord for take off. The idea was that Ren would cut the line after they were airborne; they didn't want anything spilling inside the bird and being ignited by the flares, which were on a seat in the back.

"All sixteen of them." Ren sighed. "How long until take-off?"

She glanced at the horizon, the sun already halfway down. "I'm going to start the rotars now but take-off's in ten minutes." She touched his arm. "You should go find Nora. Just in case."

"Don't tell me you're feeling guilty about spending the last few hours in the CCP." He lightly grinned, accepting her stare with a shrug. "Fine. I'll be back in eight."

"Very well." Without waiting for anything further, she hopped in the pilot's seat and started the systems, watching Ren's retreating figure out of the corner of her eye. Examining the console a little more closely revealed she could, in fact, disable the majority of the lights and that the blackhawk had an anti-missile flare system on manual stand-by. Huh, no wonder it hadn't activated sooner; that was excellent news. She glanced around, noting that Ren had disappeared back into the outpost and no one else was paying strict attention to the blackhawk. Steadily, she increased the rotar speeds; they were both unfamiliar with the aircraft, so Ren wouldn't be able to tell what she was doing until it was too late.

Taking advantage of every second, she quickly jumped out of her seat and ducked into the back of the blackhawk, unscrewing the cap to every jug. Without Ren there to push the cans out, she could have to rock the bird enough to spill it out and hope that did the trick. If the area was as dry as Ruby claimed, it would just need a little accelerant to spark the larger fire. Just to be sure, she went to the knots securing the jugs and loosened them.

That should do it.

Reclaiming her seat, Weiss put on the helmet, casting a glance at the co-pilot's seat before increasing the rotar speeds again. Like at the flight line, it took only three minutes for her to get up to speed, the tires leaving the ground as she carefully took off. Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention- Ren was running towards the bird, waving his arms and yelling.

Funny, she didn't think he knew how to yell. He was always so quiet.

It didn't matter now, though. She was too high for him to jump into the blackhawk and she didn't doubt he would attempt to do so if she lost altitude.

"Please understand why I'm doing this, Ren." She mumbled for her benefit only, shifting the blackhawk's nose around to point towards the designated start point of the fire.

Leaving the outpost behind, she was about to make good on her promise: not one more. Those bastards wouldn't take another of the Soldiers or Marines who'd held out for so long. If they were so desperate for a pound of flesh, she'd be happy to take the lot of them down with her.

It was quiet, flying above the forest. Relatively, anyway; she never could hear Ren's breathing over the roar of the engines, even in their C-130. Yet, just his presence added something to the cockpit, and it had been a while since she'd flown with anyone else, nevermind solo. Her nerves were rattling around in her mind as the last of the day's light slipped away, as if drawing a curtain on her own life in the process.

No, she couldn't think like that. As suicidal as this mission was, there was still a slim chance she'd survive. Maybe the enemy hadn't even moved into the forest yet or retreated when their scout group was beaten back. There was no guarantee she was going to get shot down.

Just a ridiculously high probability.

... Positive thinking was never a strong suit for her. Being assured of herself? That was easy, but trying to convince herself of an outcome she full well understood as being nigh impossible? Not so much.

In the dying light of dusk, Weiss squinted to make out the faint outline of the cliff rising up from the forest's canopy. She was almost at the start point. Might as well get started. Rocking the control stick side-to-side, she glanced over her shoulder to ensure the jugs were being loosened. She cringed at the liquid she could tell was spilling all over the damn place, the stench strong enough to reach her despite the wind whipping through the blackhawk. On the fourth rock, though, the cord came loose and the jugs began to slide.
Perfect. Add to that there weren't any telltale pings ricocheting off the hull and her luck was holding remarkably well.

Lowering her altitude to skim the treetops- as low as she dared, anyway- Weiss started rocking the stick back and forth, spilling more fuel out of the blackhawk and into the forest below. She followed the rough line she and Sergeant Nikos had decided on, cutting across the forest and hopefully erecting a wall of flames to protect the outpost once the flares were activated.

Ting! Ting ting ting!

Well, shit.

Weiss grit her teeth, shoulders jumping as the first of what would probably be many bullets began glancing off the metal hull of the blackhawk. She swallowed, fighting to control her breathing, busying herself with gauges and the like to distract herself from the obvious threat. She was about halfway through the designated flight path when a bullet struck the pilot side window and she flinched, sending the bird rocking much worse than was absolutely necessary. Jugs toppled over and fell into the forest below while Weiss tried to calm her racing heart, sparing a glance at the window to note the knick in the glass. Another few shots like that and it probably wouldn't hold up. But she was almost done, her finger resting on the switch for the flares' manual override.

Then she saw it. A flash of fire, much larger than the points of light that erupted from a rifle to signal a fired shot. An RPG was launched. Without hesitation, she flicked the switch, denied the luxary of waiting for the perfect time to spring the trap and tried her hardest to veer out of the rocket's path.

She mostly succeeded.

The roar of an explosion was deafening, sending her lurching in her seat as she spun, the tail rotar destroyed. Panic started to rise within her as she fought to regain some semblance of control, heat prickling at her skin. A quick glance behind her confirmed that the explosion had ignited the spilled fuel coating the interior of the blackhawk; even if she managed to survive the crash, she'd have to outrun the fire just behind her seat. However, another glance outside her bird confirmed what she'd only dared to hope for: the flares had worked, just as Ruby said. Already, tongues of flames were licking at the forest, a line of orange red angrily marring the darkened landscape.

Whatever solace she could take in that victory was short lived as she refocused on controlling her spinning descent as much as possible, gritting her teeth as she poured every ounce of strength she had into holding the control stick steady. It wasn't doing her much good but, as the main blades caught on the trees and swung her around again, it was the only grounding thing she could do as her world was rocked in every direction. The hull slammed into tree after tree, some toppling while others bounced the fiery metal carcass back and forth until she finally hit the ground, the impact so jarring she nearly passed out. In other circumstances, she probably would have, but the fire that was growing not two feet behind her spurred her on, fear and adrenaline doing the work of her conscious mind.

Her fingers fumbled with the safety harness, throwing if off her and shoving the cockpit door open. Past three feet, it wouldn't budge, and she had to force her way out of the wreckage, absently thankful she was small in stature.

She landed on the forest floor shoulder first, rolling onto her back, dazed. The crackling of fire was growing louder in her ears and she had to force herself to her feet. She stumbled a few steps away from the wreckage, biting back a curse; her shoulder dislocated when she hit the ground and her head was throbbing from the crash, just as badly as the rest of her.

The world around her was thrown into flickering relief from the growing forest fire and she had to blink through bleary vision to keep moving forward, pushing through the pain. She hadn't flown over the road yet, so as long as the fire was at her back, she had a chance of orienting herself.

Find the road.

Get back to the Outpost.

Hope she bought everyone enough time.

Simple thoughts were all she could handle at that moment. Accomplish one task, move to the next. Easy. Even if they were patently much larger than the words implied, she could focus on the short concepts.

Her next stumbling step missed any solid ground, sending her tumbling down a natural roll in the forest. The gunshot in her right arm and dislocated right shoulder weren't very happy about that but, when she came to rest, she could see through the trees enough to notice the gravel just a few feet away.

The road. She'd found the road.

Regaining her feet seemed too insurmountable a task, so she crawled forward using her left hand and knees, coughing against the smoke that had coated the inside of her lungs.
She felt awful, but she'd found the road. Now, she just had to get back to the outpost. She could do this.

The small rocks that covered the road bit into her hand and knees but she pressed on, dimly aware of the growing fire consuming the forest.

Then, another sound reached her ears, and she almost cried. The roar of an engine coming up the road, headlights falling on her a moment later as the vehicle rounded a turn.

After everything, she hadn't been able to stop them.

Flipping onto her back, Weiss grimaced as she pulled her pistol, flicking off the safety. At least this time, she didn't have to worry about pulling the slide back; it was ready to fire. With unsteady aim, she lifted the weapon and waited for the vehicle to draw close enough, using her injured right arm to push herself so she was partially sitting up. The pain was maddening but this was to be her last stand.

She'd empty her weapon before allowing these bastards to blow right past her. Even if it was the last thing she did.

To her mild surprise, the vehicle came to a screeching halt a few feet in front of her, a line of similar ones pulling up behind it.

Did they plan on trying to take her prisoner? She doubted it, but why would they stop?

At the sound of boots hitting gravel, Weiss decided she'd rather not find out, pulling the trigger and shooting at where she guessed the windshield to be. An answering shot rang out and Weiss slumped back, crying out in agony as a bullet tore through her left shoulder, her pistol falling from numb fingers.

She took one last look at the night sky before her eyes fell close, her breathing becoming shallow.

In her head, she was lying on a beach towel beside Blake, the sun glinting in those beautiful amber eyes, illuminating her smile as she laughed, and sparkling off the ring on her left hand.

With that fantasy as her last comfort, Captain Weiss Schnee let go.

---

Blake Belladonna sat in the combat hospital, on a folding chair set out in a hallway. New bandages were applied to her wounds, she was clean and in a fresh uniform, but she could care less about all that. Her focus had narrowed to the little black box she'd woken up with about fifteen hours ago, tapped into her hand. According to the Soldier who tended to her, they'd cut the original tape to see what it was, ensuring she hadn't lost any digits and the tape wasn't used as a crude method of stopping the bleeding. They'd retapped it quickly, though, upon discovering what it was.

Inside was the Schnee wedding band. There wasn't a doubt in Blake's mind; she'd seen enough photographs to recognize such an iconic piece of jewelry.

In her left, Blake held a similar black box. It didn't contain a precious family heirloom- her family had never placed such an importance upon tradition- but after months of carefully managing her budget, she'd finally been able to afford a ring she'd think Weiss would like. She was going to propose on their mid tour but... things didn't work out.

And now Weiss was gone. Forever. She held two wedding rings that would never be worn.

Blake had gone through the hospital's records, checked up on every name she recognized as being a Marine or Soldier she'd tended to at Beacon Outpost. Aside from those dead before Weiss arrived and the two who passed while she was there, the rest had survived. Many had to be evacuated from the theatre but a lucky few would be able to return to duty in a week or so. Blake included.

The fallen... what remained would be flown back home, for proper burial. Blake wasn't sure if they'd... if...

Swallowing past a lump in her throat, the corpsman shut her eyes tight as she forced herself to confront the thought. She didn't even know if Weiss' body was recovered. After the blackhawk crashed, the fire consumed most of the forest; it was very likely the pilot hadn't escaped.

She'd have nothing but the ring and a plaque to honor the love of her life.

Shoving the anguish down, Blake opened her eyes again and resumed staring at the wall. She'd contemplated checking on the others again... but decided against it.

Where once her pride in her work resided, now there was only an empty hollowness. She was numb, detached, uninterested in the world around her. Allowing herself to feel just brought up the darkness, the pang of lost so all consuming; it was either submit to the grief or be nothing. She checked on her patients out of duty; she could tell in their eyes that her lack of empathy didn't escape their notice. One of the Marines... Wukong repeated the poem Weiss had recited and it nearly broke her all over again.
It wasn't fair, to them, to her, to Weiss... war wasn't fair.

"Blake?" Listlessly, the corpsman lifted her gaze, settling on the blonde Soldier that accompanied Weiss on her reckless journey to the Outpost. Her lilac eyes were clouded over with worry, very little of it for herself. If there was one soul brave enough to weather her darkened mood, it was Yang. There had to be some sort of irony in that. "Blake, they wanna talk to you."

So what?

The words almost left her mouth but instead she nodded, pushing herself to her feet. The two ring boxes went into her pockets, where they would reside for the time being. Having them on her gave her the strength to keep moving even if they also multiplied her heartache. With Yang leading, she followed, her body mechanically moving to face the assembled officers, the leaders of every branch involved in Beacon's last ditch defense. She could see them standing just outside the combat hospital, their attendants huddled off to the side.

General Ironwood, the Marine officer ultimately responsible for her unit.

Captain Goodwitch, the Navy officer overseeing all medical operations in the theatre.

Colonel Oobleck, the Air Force officer in charge of Weiss' squadron.

Lieutenant Colonel Port, the Army officer who presided over Yang's courtmartial.

As one, the four officers turned to acknowledge their approach, Yang and Blake snapping off salutes that were quickly returned. Although the corpsman's was lazy in comparison, she rightly couldn't be motivated to care much, at present.

"Petty Officer Belladonna." The General began, folding his arms behind his back. "Although you aren't a subject in this investigation, we would like to inform you of the results given who the principle subject is. Informally, of course."

"Yes, sir," she replied, her voice lacking even the faintest hint of inflection. There was no motivation within her to care about what these pompous fools had to say. Wasn't she in enough pain?

"As an officer, I can't approve of Captain Schnee's actions." His lips curled into a frown. "She recklessly endangered herself and others by commandeering an aircraft she was not trained to operate, taking off without permission into a known hot zone, and sacrificing the aircraft without approval. These are all serious offenses and not the entirety of her crimes."

Captain Goodwitch adjusted her glasses. "Captain Schnee also put several people in harm's way by placing herself in direct danger, and the wound she received from that foolish action used resources that could've gone to others."

Blake could feel her fists clenching, knuckles turning white.

"Yes, yes, not to mention disobeying a direct order from her superior, thereby neglecting her duties as an officer and showing flagrant disregard for the chain of command." Colonel Oobleck chimed in quickly, taking a steadying drought from whatever was in his Air Force thermos.

"Captain Schnee's actions brought her character into serious question, Belladonna." Lt. Colonel Port shook his head. "But there are too many things here for us to ignore."

Gritting her teeth, the corpsman felt anger coursing through her. She wasn't going to stand here and allow the memory of her lover to be tarnished like this; she dared one of them to say another malicious thing about Weiss. At this point, she had nothing left to lose.

"Far too many. As such, as a Marine..." The General's shoulders dropped from their severe line. "I owe Captain Schnee a debt I can never repay. She didn't have to stay, but she did and, for the sake of my Marines, I am grateful."

"Despite her reckless behavior, she tended to the wounded and brought them peace and hope in a dire situation. It was not in her training and not a position I would wish on anyone, but she did it anyway." Captain Goodwitch nodded. "There is honor in that, and a remarkable amount of compassion."

"Her skills as a pilot, while never questioned, proved to be fair superior to what we ever recorded officially." Colonel Oobleck stared into his thermos as if it held the answers to all life's questions, his words at a much slower cadence this time around. "That level of proficiency is rare and a true gift."

Lt. Colonel Port stroked his mustache. "All of this is to say, of course, that while Captain Schnee did many things wrong... we find it difficult to discount her virtues and ignore the end result. To condemn her is to forsake the brother- and sisterhood we all joined, the one she fought so hard to protect. Had we more officers, more people, willing to do so much for their fellow service members- personal connection or no- rather than posturing... perhaps we wouldn't still be fighting this war."

Slowly, Blake's hands relaxed, her anger dying bit by bit as the officers each spoke their turn.

"Whether or not Captain Schnee is recorded as a hero or courtmartialed or the entire event is forgotten isn't up to us. Ultimately, the decision rests with General Ozpin, the Theatre Commander." General Ironwood sighed. "We've all submitted our... opinions on the matter, but he's still investigating into Captain Schnee's actions. Captain Ren, Sergeant Nikos, and even Specialist Xiao Long, here, have all been cleared of their charges, though."

"That's good, Sir. Captain Sch... Weiss... she would've wanted that." Selfless to the end, wouldn't even let Ren put himself in danger; of course her lover couldn't bear it if others were held accountable for her actions, regardless of how willingly they went along with the plan. She could feel the tears pricking at her eyes again as she remembered the hell bent determination in those blue eyes as she marched out of the CCP to deal with the renewed attack. "Is that all?"

The officers shared a curious glance before General Ironwood spoke, a small grin on his lips. "One more thing. With Captain Goodwitch's approval, I am ordering a full examination for you at the Sanctum Regional Medical Facility. It should take a month or so and you won't be returning to the theatre for at least a year after your discharge from the facility. As soon as you've gathered your belongings, report to the terminal."

Her eye twitched. Now, she wouldn't even have work to distract her. Great. "Yes, Sir."

Again, the officers looked between each other. "We... were expecting more of a reaction, to be honest."

And just like that, Blake's restraint disappeared. "Why? What's there to look forward to? Blood testing, psychological testing, physical examinations- is that something you think I care about right now?" The tears stung at her eyes again, the ring boxes weighing heavy in her pockets. "You honestly think I care about anything right now? I just lost- I just-"

She clamped down on the rest, hands balled into fists again, her composure so close to breaking. Really, how dense could these idiots get? Mentally, she scoffed. Officers...

"No one's told you." Captain Goodwitch stepped forward, her brows furrowed slightly as she lightly set a hand on Blake's shoulder. She had half a mind to bat it away. "Belladonna, Captain Schnee survived."

Suddenly, the entire world came to a screeching halt. "... what?"

Lt. Colonel Port was the first to snap back to his senses, the other officers shocked by the clear surprise coloring her tone. "Captain Schnee survived the blackhawk's crash and was nearly hit by the company that went to reinforce Beacon. She must've been a bit disoriented from the crash seeing as she opened fire on them. They subdued her- though the result was a matter of friendly fire on both sides- and she was immediately evacuated from theatre due to her extensive injuries. She's recovering at Sanctum."

"Weiss... she's alive?"

Colonel Oobleck turned on heel, his expression pinched into one of annoyance. "Someone dropped the ball. Excuse me while I get to the bottom of this."

Weiss was alive.

General Ironhood nodded, also displeased. "You were supposed to be notified when you awoke, Petty Officer Belladonna, seeing as you are listed as her emergency contact and next of kin."

Weiss was alive.

"Shouldn't have found out like this." Lt Colonel Port was shaking his head. "Must've sounded like we were disrespecting her sacrifice. I swear, if it was one of mine, I'll have that troop filling sandbags for a week!"

She had both their wedding bands and the love of her life was alive.

"Belladonna? Petty Officer?"

And she was ordered to be in the same location as her love for a long time.

Yang coughed into her hand. "Uh, with respect, I think you guys broke her."

In the blink of an eye, Blake's mood did a full, one hundred and eighty degree flip, a bright smile breaking out over her face. "Ma'am, Gentlemen, thank you for informing me, now I have a plane to catch."

She didn't bother to wait for a response. Whatever the officers had left to say, she would hear it later. The corpsman had only one mission on her mind, and that was grabbing her duffel bag from the cluster of personal effects recovered from the outpost so she could get to the terminal.

"Blake! Yo! Wait up, crazy, I already got your shit!" Blake slid to a stop, spinning around to see Yang running after her. "Geez, rude much!"

"What did you say? About my stuff?"

"Oh, I already got it!" The blonde smiled, lightly grabbing her arm and leading her over to a dirt lot across from the combat hospital where several land vehicles were waiting. "I've got a friend or two around here; I grabbed your bag and I've got you a ride to the terminal. Next bird takes off in half an hour, so you might be able to make the manifest."

With just that little bit of prompted, Blake was walking as fast as her legs could carry her. "Thanks, Yang."

"Don't mention it, Battle." She winked. "Now, let's get you on that plane!"

---

Weiss Schnee was quite content keeping her eyes closed, honestly. She was so tired despite assurances she'd slept for three days straight. Both shoulders and arms were stiff and unresponsive, even the slightest movement prompting a wave of nausea as she fought not to cry out in pain. The drugs being fed into her system were good, sure, but two gunshot wounds and a dislocated shoulder weren't the kind of injuries a little morphine could fix. Not to mention the medical boot encasing her right leg; she had no idea what that was from, but she wasn't in any position to dislodge it.

"Captain Weiss Schnee, aviator, trained to operate aircraft similar to the C-130, one completed tour of combat duty, a second ended with medical evacuation from theatre." She'd heard the door open but hadn't expected anyone to start talking to her. There was no doubt that the man was, even if he wasn't telling her any shocking surprises. "A list of commendations and awards to complement such a high tempo career. You haven't been in long, but you've certainly made it count."

When she forced her eyes open, Weiss had half a mind to just close them again. This would not end well.

"Ah, so you haven't been ignoring me entirely." The man smiled, eyes flitting from the papers in his hand to her bed from over his glasses. His silver hair was the last bit of confirmation she needed as he set the papers down. "Excellent. Now, we're going to... play a game, if you will. We both have questions and we both want answers. One asks a question, the other answers, then asks their own question."

Like she had much of a choice. Weiss nodded anyway.

"Splendid." The man walked up to the edge of her bed, the cane clutched in one hand seemingly doing little to assist his gait. "First, do you know who I am?"

"General Ozpin, theatre commander... responsible for all deployed troops-"

"Yes, correct." The General chuckled, holding up a hand to stop her. "I'd rather not force you to speak too much. From what I understand, that bullet in your left shoulder hit your lung. I'm not keen on making your stay here any more difficult than it will likely be."

Weiss narrowed her eyes briefly. It was almost like he was baiting her into asking the questions he wanted to answer. "What happened to Beacon?"

"You remember the individuals you fired upon after the blackhawk crashed? Those were friendly forces." She couldn't help but groan at that. "Reinforcements arrived in time to evacuate the wounded and link up with the fighting fit. Resupplied and in greater number, Sergeant Nikos lead her Marines in pushing the enemy back, with help from the Soldiers, of course." He pulled out a device of some sort. "The outpost itself was abandoned, though; your forest fire plan worked a little too well."

The way he made it sound, everyone was okay. Were they okay? She'd made a promise.

"Captain Schnee, I'm sure you're aware that your actions were... questionable at best. Officers have been arrested for far less." General Ozpin frowned. "Of all your actions, which is your greatest regret?"

Weiss blinked, turning the question over in her head a moment. Maybe it was the drugs or just the entire situation but... the answer seemed really obvious. "Firing upon the reinforcements... I mistook them for the enemy... I refused to just let them pass... had I known... I wouldn't have fired."

Speaking was becoming progressively difficult. Her throat was dry and the energy she was using to focus on this conversation was what little she had in her. She was still so tired.

"Hmmm, very well then." General Ozpin tapped his cane lightly. "Your turn."

"Were there any more casualties?" She winced, amending her word choice. "I mean... did we lose anyone, Sir?"

"Not one more, to borrow a phrase." The corner of his mouth twisted up. "Although many- like yourself- were too injured to remain in theatre, they will make recoveries in due time. The aid administered by Corpsman Belladonna, Specialist Xiao Long, and yourself contributed greatly to their survival."

Relief flooded her system. They were okay. Blake was okay, though she suspected she was in for the ass chewing of a lifetime once the woman got ahold of her. It would be worth it, though. It would all be worth it to see her love again.

With the answer she wanted- and needed- to hear setting her at ease, Weiss found it very difficult to remain invested in the conversation. If it could be called that.

"I sense you're trying valiantly to stay awake despite your injuries and you'll need all your strength relatively soon. One more question." General Ozpin's expression sharpened. "Although you had the best of intentions, your actions clearly violated the chains of command and proper military procedure. As such, the punishment I have decided would best equal your crimes is twenty years confinement, forfeiture of pay, reduction in rank, and dishonorable discharge from the service. My question, Captain Schnee, is what do you have to say for yourself?"

She blinked at him, the weight of her sentence bearing down on her. She was young yet, though, so twenty years- while a considerable amount of time- wasn't a life sentence. It would be hard on her and Blake but... well, if the woman forgave her for the suicidal mission thing, they'd be able to make this work.

Mustering her steadiest voice, Weiss met the man's gaze evenly. "I accept the consequences of my actions, Sir." No one would ever be able to convince her that she was wrong to do what she did. For Blake's sake, for Ruby's, for Nora's, for the Marines and the Soldiers, she would never regret her actions that day. Although she couldn't draw herself up, the force behind her answer conveyed that well enough. "My last question is, may I see Blake Belladonna before I'm confined?"

"Her plane just touched down; I had my driver wait for her so she wouldn't be delayed by the shuttle." General Ozpin chuckled. "Now, for the record, although that was the punishment I decided was equal to your crimes, I have taken the extent of your actions into account." He adjusted his glasses. "Not just from the day in question but from here and now. It's clear you acted solely in the interests of those stranded at Beacon Outpost and those same actions resulted in not only the lives of service members being saved but also a decisive blow to our enemy in the region." He raised his cane, pointing it at her. "You've even left quite the impression on Sergeant Nikos' unit. They've changed their official motto from 'Death Before Dishonor' to 'Not One More'. Paperwork's still pending but they've taken to inscribing it on every flat surface they come across..."

Though General Ozpin was still speaking, Weiss tuned him out, certain she hadn't heard correctly. The way he was going on, it was like she wasn't facing the end of her career over this whole debacle. Which, while it would be nice, certainly wasn't what she was expecting.

"... at any rate, I've already cleared the following with Colonel Oobleck." He grabbed a thick stack of papers from a nearby table; she wasn't even sure when he'd set it there. "Here are your new orders. You are to remain at this treatment facility until discharge and you are hereby mandated to remain in a non-deployable status for a year after that date." He smiled. "Petty Officer Belladonna has similar orders, and I do hope that's enough time to plan your wedding."

She... was hearing correctly. "P-plenty."

"Good." He turned to leave. "I'd advise you rest for now. Your fiancee should arrive in about an hour and you'll likely need your energy." Just before exiting the room, General Ozpin gave her a small smile. "Take care, Captain."

"Thank you, Sir." She mumbled, eyes falling shut as she stopped fighting the strain of remaining conscious. This was wonderful news by all accounts but, honestly, she was expecting to wake up and find out it was just a dream induced by the medication. Surely things couldn't turn out so well.

Could it?

---

The white, sterile halls of the medical facility were a far cry from the hastily built combat hospital but Blake didn't really care to dwell on that. The elevator ride up to Weiss' floor was ridiculously long, she'd already spent far too long in the airport just getting her single duffel, and the two ring boxes in her pockets were burning a hole through her pants. If there weren't so many nurses and doctors bustling about, she honestly would've started running the moment the doors twanged open. As it was, she settled for the fastest range walk she'd ever used, eyes flicking from sign to sign.

And just like that, she was standing in front of the door that would- hopefully- contain her love. Some part of her wasn't ready to see Weiss hooked up to machines, stripped of her usual perfect posture and most likely out of her mind on medication. But that part could go right to hell as she entered anyway, stopping short the moment she was inside the room.

Yes, it hurt seeing exactly what she suspected. But she was a medic by trade; a quick glance at all the readouts surrounding her love proved that the woman was fairing well, that this wasn't all some cruel trick. Weiss wasn't hovering on the edge of death; with numbers like those, she'd be at least mobile in a few weeks.

Her eyes were closed and breathing deep, likely in a drug induced slumber. Her pure white hair fanned around her head, spilling over the pillow, and her pale skin showed a number of bruises that would take time to heal.

But she was alive and Blake could no longer hold her emotions in check.

"W-weiss?"

The pilot's brow furrowed slightly, effort showing plain on her face as she forced her eyes open. When blue met amber, recognition forced them wider, damn any medications.

"Blake?" Her voice was soft, either weak from disuse or from shock, but she tried to raise her left arm, to reach out for the corpsman, wincing as she did so.

Crossing the room in a few long strides, Blake quickly slipped her hand into her lover's, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here. I'm so glad you're safe."

Weiss gave her a weak smile. "You too. I love you, Blake Belladonna."

"I love you too, Weiss Schnee." Using her other hand, the corpsman reached into her pocket and drew out the first box, the one she'd woken with what felt like a lifetime ago. "And I will happily be your wife, on one condition."

A white eyebrow arched, her lover still to weak to voice every question and passing thought, though she didn't doubt the desire to do so was there.

She drew out the second ring box, opening it so its recipient could see the contents. "Will you be mine?"

Weiss puffed out a laugh, much stronger than what she probably should've if the coughing that followed was any indication. However, any worry roused by the fit was quickly shoved aside as blue eyes misted over with unshed tears.

"Yes. I've been yours since the beginning."

"And I, yours." Nevermind the breathing tube tucked just beneath Weiss' nose or the chance anyone could walk in on them or the myriad of other things that should've stopped her, Blake leaned up and pressed her lips to Weiss', drinking the delicate connection between them.

She had every intention of lecturing her beloved for essentially leaving on a suicide mission without telling her but... that could wait. Next week, next month- they'd get around to it eventually.

Right here? At this moment? All Blake wanted to do was remind Weiss just how much she loved the headstrong, brave, brash, absolutely insane woman that she was going to marry, sooner rather than later. Luckily, her beloved was of the same mind, encouraging her to help slip the ring Blake had bought- a single diamond set in a brilliant snowflake design, their names inscribed on the inside of the band- onto her finger. The corpsman needed no urging to reply in kind, slipping the storied ring of at least six generations of Schnee wives onto her own finger.

After everything, there was nothing they could ask for to improve the situation. They were together, if both a little worse for wear, and they were engaged.

It just took a nearly fatal encounter with the enemy to make everything come together but that was the life they chose, part of who they were.

They wouldn't have it any other way.

---

Author's Note: I swear I write these two in more than military settings... for some reason, it's just the easiest for me to finish at present. Anyway, like I said, not heavily based in realism, because I've only ever ridden in a blackhawk three times, much less flown one. Hope you enjoyed.