This fic will be a bit sloppier than my other ones, mainly because this is serving as an emotional release after the WHAT THE HELL-ness we went through on Sunday. Gather what's left of your feels and enjoy.
Blake clutched Yang tightly, gritting her teeth as she did everything in her power to remain conscious. She had to get away from Adam. She had to get away from the Grimm. She had to get away from the White Fang.
She just had to get away.
Every step sent searing agony through her body and released another flood of warmth down her abdomen and back. With each pulse of her heart, she could feel herself growing weaker and weaker. Her Aura was depleted. It was just barely keeping the wound from getting any worse as she continuously agitated it. All of this paled in comparison to the pang that went through her heart every time she felt Yang tremble or heard her whimper.
In one strike, Adam had crippled the strongest, bravest person Blake had ever met. She thought back to how she had doubted Yang during the Mercury incident, and the wave of guilt that crashed through her mind almost caused her to stop moving.
Almost.
She ran past Grimm, past White Fang members, searching for someone she knew. Her vision was blurring with tears, ash, and fatigue. Groaning, she finally fell to her knees near a broken bench.
Yang yelped at the sudden jolt, her eyes fluttering open. Her entire right side felt like it was on fire, and not in the good way. She tried to flex her hand, but couldn't move it for some reason. She felt Blake slumping against her. She tried to speak to her, but her throat was too dry.
Instead, she tried to reach out and touch her abdomen. She had seen that White Fang creep stab her. She'd have to check and make sure-
Ice filled Yang's veins as she stared at the empty space where her hand should have been. Slowly, slowly, she turned her head. She saw the blackened stump of her arm, smelled the scorched flesh. Suddenly, her throat didn't seem too dry at all.
A hoarse, wordless scream ripped its way out of the brawler. Her whole body began to shake as she stopped breathing entirely.
This was enough to stir Blake from her near-unconscious state. "Yang…" she wheezed, reaching out to cover her mouth. "The Grimm…" Her entire body ached, but she still moved up to Yang, trying to calm her.
"I'm here," she managed to say. "I'm here. You're okay. We'll get through this. We'll… We'll…" She started panting and couldn't say more.
Yang heard Blake's voice and calmed down somewhat, but horrified noises were still escaping her mouth. She couldn't stop them. She barely registered that she was making them.
Blake heard the roar of a Grimm. She tried to raise her hand to cover Yang's mouth. Instead, she found herself cupping her cheek. She stared into those terrified, beautiful, lilac eyes. Her heart thudded painfully. Oh, Yang.
Their first kiss was the opposite of what it should have been. It was heated, desperate, and painful. Eyes of gold and lilac were blurred with tears. Their faces were marked with ash and blood. They were barely conscious. Only their fear and survival instincts were keeping them awake.
Yang whimpered against Blake's lips, finally gaining some control over her terrified shouts. Blake's mouth was hot and feverish, but her own mouth was even more so. She was terrified of burning her somehow, but she didn't dare move away. She needed this. She needed Blake.
She could still feel the phantom of her arm, and it disturbed her more than words could describe. Blake was no phantom. She was there, and she needed her. They needed each other.
I'm here. The words that Blake's heavy tongue had been trying to articulate rang clearly through her fuzzy mind. I'm here. Don't be afraid. You'll be okay. I'll take care of you. I love you. Adam will die if I see him again! You're still strong. You'll always be strong. Oh Dust, I love you! Don't be afraid.
Yang's tongue was like a white-hot brand in her mouth, but she met it eagerly, if a bit sloppily. She couldn't tell if she was feeling lightheaded because of the kiss, or because of the blood draining from her body. It didn't matter which one it was. If she was going to die, she would at least die kissing the woman she loved and trusted more than anyone else.
When they were found and the medics came to their aid, it was surprisingly difficult to pry them apart so that they could be put on separate stretchers.
…..
Their second kiss was also desperate and painful, though not as much as the last time.
Most of the pain was in their chests, in their minds. Every time Blake looked at the stump of Yang's arm, or Yang caught Blake crouching over with a grimace on her face, a sense of failure washed over everything else.
Yang hated herself for not being fast enough.
Blake hated herself for getting Yang into danger.
They both reassured each other that the other was wrong, but the words always fell on deaf ears.
Unable to reason with each other, they just decided to hold each other instead. They tasted tears on their tongues, gripped tightly at clothes while digging nails into flesh, sobs muffling against salty skin.
After only a few minutes, they broke apart and fell into a restless sleep.
….
Their third kiss was what their first kiss should have been.
They and the other Beacon Hunters and Huntresses had just moved camp again. The leaders were having a conference on what their next move should be and how they might be able to contact Ozpin, who was mysteriously absent. Blake and Yang were finally well enough to take part in some of the planning. Ruby told them that they weren't allowed to do any fighting for a little while longer, though.
They were setting up camp when Yang heard Blake approaching her from behind. She felt her back stiffen as slender, cool arms wrapped around her middle. "Yeah, Blake?" she whispered, her voice taking on a gentle tone that only Ruby had ever heard before.
Blake nuzzled the back of Yang's neck, her lips brushing a spot where her nails had dug in a few days ago. "I love you," she said calmly.
If this had been a few days ago, when everything was still peaceful, the idea of uttering those words would have terrified her. Now, she wasn't scared at all. There were so many more important things to be afraid of, to be hurt by. This, at the very least, wasn't fear. It wasn't pain.
It was happiness, and that was what they needed the most, what they deserved the most.
Yang's breath hitched. She blinked a few times before looking over her shoulder, locking her gaze on Blake's golden eyes. There was still lingering pain reflected in them, but there was also hope. And love. "I know," she murmured. "I love you too." A tear trickled down her cheek and she felt a smile, her first real one in ages, coming to her face.
Blake returned the smile as she turned her partner around to face her. "I know."
She cupped Yang's face with one hand. She placed her other hand on her partner's right shoulder and gently ran it down to the healed stump before moving back up again. She repeated the gesture a few times while gazing into those lilac eyes.
Yang should have felt shame when her arm was touched like that, but she felt only a pleasant tingle in her chest. She moved closer, slipped a hand under Blake's shirt, and ran her fingertips over the scar on her abdomen. She hated that it was there, but realized that she loved the feel of it nonetheless. It was a part of Blake, and she loved Blake. Every part of her.
She felt a lump rising in her throat as she realized that Blake was thinking the same thing about her. That ugly reminder of what she used to have, what she used to be, was a part of her now. And Blake loved her, all of her.
Their lips trembled as they gently touched. They moved slowly, taking the time to explore each other, to feel something other than the agony that had drawn them together before.
Blake felt her entire body shaking at the sensations running through it. Yang was so warm, strong, and solid. She felt as if she would always be safe if she could just cling to her beloved partner forever. The heat of Yang's lips made her moan quietly, though those sounds started turning to purrs. Yang's burning hand caressed her upper abdomen and traced the scar there with painstaking tenderness before moving to the smaller scar on her back, then to the front once again. After a few minutes of this, the hand came out from under her shirt and wrapped snugly around her midsection.
Why did Blake feel so small and fragile when Yang held her? Yang knew that she was strong and capable, but all she wanted to do was protect her. She held her as tightly as her one arm would allow. Her right arm started to rise up instinctively before slumping back down. Before she could start mentally cursing it yet again, she felt Blake's cool hand stroking the stump before moving up her arm one more time. Her shoulders relaxed and she was able to focus on how Blake's lips tasted like green tea, and how her purr rumbled against her chest, mingling with both heartbeats.
When the kiss ended, the two looked at each other before smiling simultaneously. Each touching one hand to the other's scar, they communicated a single, silent message:
I love you, and we WILL get through this. No matter what.
My newest RWBY fantasy involves Taiyang finally making an entrance, meeting Adam on the battlefield, and being like "You hurt my baby girl. Prepare to face every form of hell imaginable!" That would be so freaking satisfying. Seriously, this creepy bastard is at the top of my kill list right now!
I will try to write something more coherent later this week. I hope this drabble thingy helped ease the agony a little. Seriously though, as someone who considers my hands to be the second most important part of my body (the first being my brain), I emphasize SO MUCH with Yang right now! She'd better get a robot arm. Cyborg Yang with Ironwood as her mentor had better be in our future. It's the only way I'll forgive RT for this atrocity.
Brace yourself for next week and peace out. My body is not combat ready.
