A/n: The site decides to remove all my bloody spacing for some reason. Sorry about that. I'll fix it when I can figure it out.


"Are there any further questions?" Weiss puts both hands palms down on the lacquered oak table, looming over it and the twenty or so board members sitting along it. Absolute silence follows. Judging by the way they're looking at her, Weiss suspects they might fear she'll sprout claws and rip them all to shreds at any moment. She reserves hope of that one day science will make that possible.

She is just about to conclude the meeting and hopes she has left enough of an impression that they won't bother her until the next quarterly evaluation. A few more hours and then Weiss is going to leave the headquarters of the Schnee Dust Company into her sister's hands to pursue her chosen career – Her friends and her chosen family – her...

In her pocket, her scroll buzzes quietly against her leg. And again. And again.

Weiss narrows her eyes in annoyance as she loses her thread and has to start over. By the sixth or seventh message, she breaks off and asks for a moment, fishing her scroll out of her pocket.

The background display of her scroll catches her eye and a smile creeps onto her face despite her best efforts, like it always does when she sees that picture. It's from her graduation day - or rather- her graduation night.

It shows a smoky, dingy pub and team RWBY crowded into a leather sofa with tall pints of beer in front of them. It is one of those perfect moments that, by all rights, shouldn't be possible to capture in a picture and yet had been.

Blake is shown in middle of a burst of raucus laughter at one of Yang's increasingly crude jokes, without any trace or her usual reserved poise.

Weiss herself is kissing Ruby on the cheek, their leader's blush illuminated by the flash of the photo. Yang has her arms wrapped around Ruby's shoulder. She'd had that look of adoration and pride whenever she'd looked at her little sister that day.

They never drink beer again after that night. They spent the next day in agony and yet, they all agree it was all worth it, because it was the best time of their life. Before reality reasserted itself.

Weiss frowns and shuts the scroll down, returning her attention to those attending the meeting. One of the younger members is snickering in the back and she casts him a scathing look, quelling his disturbance.

"Very well," she continues, even as her scroll buzzes against her leg again. "Then I officially conclude this meeting. Good day, gentlemen."

They all rise with almost military discipline and file out of the room, leaving Weiss with her annoyance, the long list of other things to get done over the course or the day, and a headache to boot. Just one day – she reminds herself. One day every three months and she'll flee right back to her life with her team, hunting monsters and saving people, doing something that's actually useful.

If not for the stupid meeting, she would be with them right now, saving the day. Four years at Beacon and another two in the field have left her feeling acutely alone even in a building with over three hundred employees.

The messages on her scroll tempt her, but she has a routine and hates wavering from a plan once it's been set. The messages can wait until her work is done. So she returns to her office and gets started. It's dreary work, but she makes progress over the next two hours despite the allure of her cursed scroll.

When the tea arrives, with one of the chocolate-chip cookies that Ruby likes and that Weiss, despite her best attempts to the contrary has grown fond of over the years, her resolve cracks. Sipping slowly from her cup, she unlocks the scroll and begins to read through the messages.


Monday - 12:18

Sooo…. We just left the city walls. We all miss miss you already. Except Yang, maybe. She's flirting with the pilot. I should probably stop her before he crashes the ship into a mountain.

See you soon! Blake and Yang say hi! 3

Tuesday - 08:59

Arrived a few hours ago and we've checked the perimeter walls. The nature's great here - all wild and stuff. Blake's getting nostalgic. She may have run off to chase squirrels. Everything's in good shape here. We're going to check the surroundings tomorrow to see what source of the attacks.

Miss you. I left Mr Snuggles in your bed so that you can keep each other company. :***

Wednesday - 06:02

It's so frickin' early. Everything suuucks.

06:57

Coffee helped. Going outside of the walls. Get back to you soon. Guess you can't send back or you're really mad about me forgetting to take the trash out before we left. Sorry about that, btw. Yangs says it's probably the distance messing it up so you might just get a bunch of texts when we get back.

15:23

Everything's looking fine. Found a nest of grimm and took care of it. We just got back to the walls. Gonna do an aerial sweep tomorrow and if everything's fine we might be home soon.

Thursday - 10:11

Scan picked up a few grimm near the town. Gonna have to stay a bit longer, just in case.

Friday - 21:52

Turns out there were more than a few. Been kicking butt all day and we've kept them off the walls. Might have accidentally shot at Blake. Don't tell her I said so. We're all okay. No casualties.

So tired. Gonna sleep for like a year now. ^^

Saturday - 05:39

Kept coming. Nevermore everywhere. Can't use the bullhead to get out. Gonna have to spoil me when I get home cos I'm not moving from the bed. A few soldiers dead. Blake's hurt but she'll be fine. We'll all be fine.

Sunday 10:41

Love you.


Weiss stares at her scroll and the last message, stomach wrigglng around inside of her and threatening to crawl up her throat to get away from the fear that has turned her blood to ice.

She jabs a finger at the button to display the next message, over and over, and it shows nothing new, nothing of value that'll illuminate what is going on.

Furious, she grabs it and throws it across the room and crashing into the wall. It's one of the beacon-designed scroll given to field operative and as such the blasted thing does not even give her the satisfaction of breaking as it smashes into the plaster.

No. She was not going to give up just like that. Weiss Schnee had never accepted defeat and she wasn't about to start now. Weiss reaches for the old antiquated but still functioning phone at her desk and dials the number to Winter's office.

The watch on the wall tells her ten seconds go by before there's an answer but it feels like an eternity.

"Winter Schnee. How may I help you?"

"I need every single ship and every single private security contractor available ready to leave in an hour."

There's a moment of startled silence.

"Weiss? What?"

She knows she sounds desperate and she hates it. There is nothing more descpicable to Weiss than her own weakness and people being privy to it but for the first time in years, she does not care. For them, she'd get down on her knees and beg, if necessary.

"Get them on the phone now," she says, urgency bleeding through into her voice. "Please."

Heart pounding, chest heaving, Weiss sits back down in her chair and reaches for her cup of tea. Her hand shakes so badly that the lukewarm liquid sloshes over the brim and onto her fingers. She's only just brought it to her lip to sip when the door opens and Yang stumbles in.

Whatever her sister is saying turns into meaningless white noise.

"Never mind," she says numbly. "Have a nice day."

She hangs up before Winter gets to respond. Her entire body feels numb and the phone falls off its base and onto the desk. Weiss doesn't care as she takes in her friend's appearance.

Yang doesn't look good. Her hair is matted and tangled, her clothes and skin caked in dirt and blood. She has bandages wrapped around her midriff and they are soaking through with scarlett.

None of that worries Weiss. She's seen the blonde bounce back from worse. It's the look on her face that truly frightens Weiss. Her shoulders are slumped and her step lacks any of its usual swagger. The light that is usually there in her lilac eyes, that vibrant sense of energy and life, has... just gone out.

In her left hand she holds a scroll in an almost cramp-like grip, a custom job Weiss recognizes intimately because she is the one who had bought it for Ruby's birthday. The screen is cracked and covered in bloody fingerprints.

The cup of the finest Atlesian porcelein falls from Weiss' fingers and crashes to the floor, shattering to pieces. Weiss' heart breaks with it.