Yang woke up with a start drenched in sweat, her bedsheets sticking to her back and she could feel her heart thumping quickly in her chest. She reached over and checked the time on her tablet. It was much too late to be tortured by nightmares, the brawler knew she had only couple hours to sleep before the school day began anew. Knowing that additional sleep would likely escape her, the blonde decided to get up instead of laying there confronted with her own thoughts. She lowered herself down as quietly as she could manage off of her precariously positioned bunk bed. Landing in front of her partner's bed, Yang turned to face her Blake to see if she had woken her up. In the dim moonlight, she could make out Blake's face, her eyes closed gently and lips slightly apart as she slept peacefully. Her sleep tousled dark hair encapsulated her striking features, obscuring much of her face. It was always a comfort to her to be able to rest her eyes on her teammate. With a slight smile and a tugging sense of longing, Yang stole one more glance at her partner before carefully shutting the door behind her, leaving her standing alone in the dark hallway.
Yang had been dreaming too much lately. Dark thoughts filled her sleeping mind and the focus was always the same: the fight she didn't get to finish and the threat that she had let get away. She had allowed that vile Torchwick to get away after splitting apart the mech warrior that he had stolen. His new henchman had stepped in at the last second to save him and that girl with her obnoxious pink and brown hair had protected him from Yang's fury. That girl… Neo, he called her, Yang thought that she wanted nothing more than to punch that smirking look right off of her smug face. To add insult to injury, this ridiculous girl was now surfacing in Yang's dreams, a space typically reserved for more...fun adventures. The brawer took a deep breath and leaned against the wall by her team's dorm. She could feel anger boiling in her skin and bubbling up to her eyes, turning them crimson. These dreams were quite simply the worst and their recurring pattern, left her feeling at considerable unease. After all, a girl needs her beauty sleep, she thought to herself.
The nightmare was always the same. Yang would find herself alone, isolated from her team, from her partner. A warehouse, a deserted shop, the dark halls at Beacon, the location was irrelevant, but each time that girl would just be there. Sitting, legs crossed, with her lacy parasol twirling in her hand over while resting on her shoulder. Each time Yang would advance on her foe, the intense fire already erupting inside of her. It was never a fair fight. The girl seemed to be untouchable, Yang's fists would never connect and with every frustratingly failed strike, her judgment would become more cloudy and she became fatally reckless. Her error was different each time. As if her brain had learned from the fictitious fights that played out in her mind, Yang didn't make the same mistake twice, but this never changed the outcome. Too late she would realize that an opening was a trick, or that she had misjudged her timing, or she had fallen for a feigned attack. It made no difference though, things inevitably ended the same for Yang.
Her dream and her mind failed to protect her from feeling Neo's blade slipping in between her ribs and delivering a mortal blow to her heart. Her legs would give out from under her and she would fall, staring into that face with those eyes, their shifting colors and that smirk looking so satisfied that as they watched Yang bleed out. As she lay there dying, she'd hear a voice yelling for her laced with fear and panic, "Yang!" just like she had heard the night that she fought Torchwick. Her partner always came to her side in these dreams and Yang would watch helplessly as Blake's face appeared in front of her scared and full of despair. It was the worst part of these nightmares, Yang could not bear being the source of her partner's pain. Still, she was always grateful that this was the last sight she would see.
"Yang?" A soft voice whispered to her from behind. "Are you okay?"
Yang felt a chill run up her spine as she was pulled out of her thoughts and back into the hallway. Blake was standing in the doorway to their room, studying her face with a look of concern. Her hair was tousled from sleep and her eyes reflected the minimal light and had the appearance of reflective disks. The blonde forced a smile in Blake's direction.
"Oh, you know, just got up to…" Yang hated lying to her partner, which was just as well, since her words failed her anyway. She sighed and simply said, "Bad dreams, you know?"
Blake nodded. "Torchwick again? I dream about him sometimes too. Like I want to get my hands on him and… To be honest, I don't know what I'd do."
Choosing to dodge the question, Yang reached over and grabbed Blake's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Oh, you know what you'd do, Blakey! You'd beat the crap out of him and he'd regret the day he pissed off team RWBY!" She hoped her bravado didn't come off as false as it felt.
Blake raised an eyebrow at Yang's response and looked down at their joined hands. "Right… Well, no reason to waste a perfectly useful time awake, yes?"
Yang looked at her partner and gave her a mischievous grin, "You're absolutely right as usual. Romantic walk around Beacon then?" Yang gave Blake a flirty wink that she hoped conveyed a sense of playfulness, or at least covered up her disquiet. She would often made such comments to her teammate and the raven haired girl always seemed to take her remarks in stride. Yang wondered if Blake ever realized that her suggestions had an element of seriousness to them.
Blake laughed, her musical chuckle, lightened Yang's heart considerably. "Of course. I'll follow you whereever you need."
She let go of the brawler's hand and Yang felt a pang of sadness at its release. But still, she couldn't complain; this night had turned out quite well. Yang was always eager to spend any time she could with Blake. And if it meant respite from her dreams, then it was even more satisfying. The fire she felt about letting Roman fly off in that damned airship would have to smolder and wait a bit longer. After all, she'd get her chance to fight Neo again. And this time she would win. Practice makes perfect. At least, that's what people say.