A/N
HEYO! People of fanfiction, here I am with my contribution to the Bumbleby fleet. This story is inspired heavily by one of the most romantic and beautiful songs (That isn't produced by Roosterteeth) that I have ever had the pleasure of hearing. "Austin" by Blake Shelton.
Now, this is indeed my first foray into the whole "Writing a RWBY fanfiction" think (Surprisingly), so bear with me any mistakes I make.
Special shoutout to my Beta, my Cousin, who shall remain unnamed unless she says otherwise!
OOOOO00000ooooo...ooooo00000OOOOO
It had been two years. Two years of half-assedly planned rallies, protests, and boycotts. Two years of fighting for something that wouldn't happen. It took Blake two years to realize that it was all a ruse. Two years to figure out she was being used.
After spending four years at Beacon, only a week from graduation, it all happened. He happened. He showed up when she was alone. She had been walking back from the library building, when suddenly Adam Taurus was there. He had fed her lies. Sweet, sweet lies of how he had abandoned the White Fang, how he had ran, how he is going to start his own group of peaceful Faunus, to battle politically for the racial equality. To Blake's ears, it was perfect. Everything she had ever hoped for.
In hindsight, she was sickened at how readily ate up his words, how eager she was to follow him once again. As always, he was persuasive, and Blake left, running back to her empty dorm, as her Teammates, as well as most of Beacon, was at dinner. She packed what few personal possessions she had, and fled into the night, leaving only a note stating that she left of her own will to her teammates, one of which was her partner, best friend, and girlfriend of 3 years. They had gone through so much together, and Blake's stomach churned as she remembered how she had thrown it all away on a whim.
She could still remember her many milestones she had shared with Yang Xiao Long. Yang's confession, Blake's rejection (at the time, Blake was convinced she was strait), Yang not talking to her for nearly a month, Ruby finally talking to Yang, Blake would never know what had been said, but Yang changed. She had seemingly decided that she would make Blake hers, whether Blake wanted it or not, and began to attempt to woo her at any and every opportunity, eventually succeeding at their mid-year dance in their Second year and Beacon. Their first kiss. Their first confession of love. Their first "Time" together. All of it thrown away, because Blake simply couldn't resist following Adam on this fools quest.
She left her scroll, her cell phone(1), and any other communication devices she had, simply vanishing into the night. She would never know how her team reacted, but she was sure that Weiss would hurt, but of course hide her emotions. Ruby would cry, probably blame herself. Yang... Yang would most likely be hurt the worst. Even more so because what they had was real. All she left was a short message, stating that she left of her own accord, and that she was safe. Once Yang got over her grief, surely, she would hate her.
That was what hurt Blake the worst. The thought of Yang, the love of her life, developing a hatred of her was almost more than she could handle. As the years past, Blake and Adam's following remained depressingly small, and it took Blake two years to figure out why. Adam had never left the White Fang. All the "Recruitment" trips he went on were really missions of terror. It took her so long to realize it, and once she did, she ran once again. It seems like the only thing she was good at anyway.
She'd been on the run for coming on her fourth week, making a small amount of money by putting her huntress training to good use clearing out small groupings of Grimm in whatever city she would end up in. Her and Adam's place was in a relatively large city of Nero, Vale. A couple hundred miles west of the City of Vale, Beacon Academy, and Yang. Now, she was in a city roughly halfway between the Nero and Vale, though the city's name eluded her. Thus, leading us to the present.
OOOOO00000ooooo...ooooo00000OOOOO
There was a small jingle and the squeaky glass door swing open, hitting the bell positioned above it. The pounding of the heavy rain outside almost instantly drowns the small noise out. As Blake stepped through the threshold of the motel, her drenched trench coat resting heavily on her shoulders, the man behind the counter looks up from his magazine, greeting Blake with a absurdly fake smile, and overzealous shout of, "Welcome to the Merryweather Motel, may I interest you in a room?"
He was a short, pudgy man, with a receding hairline and five o'clock shadow. The kind of person one would call "Greasy". He sported a cheap windbreaker, and a pair of jeans. Blake briefly pondered just leaving then and there, but a fresh shiver running up her spine, brought forth by her sopping wet coat, convinced her otherwise.
"Just a room. The cheapest available," Blake deadpanned, making it clear with tone alone that she was not here for conversation.
"Oh, erm, just for one night?" he asked, put off by the cold answer, the fake smile falling from his face immediately. When Blake shook her head, he responded with, "Well then, how long?".
Blake slipped her hand into one of the pockets on the inside of her coat, withdrawing a small bundle of lien cards, before lying them on the counter, saying, "However many days this will buy me."
The man, presumably the owner, plucked the money off the table. He began murmuring under his breath as he counted up the total, before saying, "This will get you about a week in room 16." He then pulled a single key off of a small rack on the wall behind him, handing it to Blake. Blake gave a small nod before turning to her left, and walking briskly into the adjoining hallway. The left side of the hall was lined with windows, showing the depressing scene of dull grey streets and heavy rainfall, with the occasional distant crack of thunder. The right was lined with a series of wooden doors, each one adorned with faded brass numbers siting about eye-level on them.
Blake continued down the hall until she came to a door with a single "6" on it, with a faded spot to the left of it, outlining the brass 1 that was formerly there. She slid the key into the slot, turning it with a bit of force. The door swung open, and she took a single step in. The room reeked of sex and alcohol, even more so to Blake's sensitive nose, but it would suffice.
As soon as the door closed behind her, she dropped the facade she had been holding on to, slumping backwards against the door with a groan. She eyed the bed, the dusty object looking promising to her worn eyes. She began walking towards the motel bed, her trench coat slipping from her shoulders, landing on the ground with a dull thunk. Her outfit had remained greatly unchanged for the most part aside from moving the magnetic holster for Gambol Shroud to her lower back for easier concealment. Blake's hand then slipped to her lower back, pulling Gambol Shroud from its magnetic holster. She the slid the blade from its sharpened sheath, letting the sheath fall to the floor.
She then unbuckled the belt holding the magnetic apparatus to her back, and collapsed Gambol Shroud into its gun form. Finally she slipped the bow off of her ears, letting them fall free. She then fell onto the bed with all the grace of a pregnant walrus, tucking the gun underneath her pillow, her hand remaining wrapped around it. Blake let out a groan at the stiffness of the bed, but to her tired mind, it was of little consequence. As sleep fell over her senses, she dreamt of golden hair and lilac eyes.
OOOOO00000ooooo...ooooo00000OOOOO
Blake groaned as light spilt over her eyes, waking her from her dreams. Even as she became conscious, she stubbornly refused to open her eyes. Only after staring at the inside of her now glowing red eyelids for more than a minute did she roll over and open her eyes. Blake groaned once more as she began to once again feel the many aches and pains across her body that she had become familiar with since leaving Adam nearly a month ago.
She ignored the pain and dragged herself to her feet, her nose wrinkling as she once again noticed the stench of the room.
I need to find a store today and get some food. Some air freshener too.
After taking a few moments to gather her belongings, she made her way our of her room, double-checking that she had her room key, and walked to the lobby, idly noting that the rain had stopped at some point during the night.
After briefly questioning the half asleep man at the front desk on the location of the nearest grocery store, she set out into the humid summer air, seeming almost wet as the sun began to evaporate the water remaining on the ground from the recent rain.
Roughly ten minutes later, Blake walked through the entrance to a moderately sized general shore near the center of town. Ignoring the cheery "Hello!" from an employee, she picked up a basket from a stack next to the door, and made her way to the canned food isle.
Making a point to grab a few cans of tuna among her selection of processed food, Blake remembers all the jokes that had been thrown around in her Beacon days regarding her more cat-like tendencies. Smiling sadly at the though of the main maker of those jokes.
God I wish I could see her again…but…
Her smile faded all together as she remembers what she did to Yang. How hut she must have been.
She hates me now. There is no doubt, after what I did. I can't blame her, though…even I hate me now. She's probably happy with someone else now.
At the thought of Yang being with someone else, her heart seemed to burn with a mix of Jealousy and sorrow. With a sigh Blake forced the Blonde out of her mind, and continued on her task of obtaining air freshener for her disgusting smelling Motel room.
Blake turns the corner to the cleaning supplies isle with only lingering feelings of sadness in her. This peacefulness was brief, however, as sight at the opposite end of the isle made her freeze. She only caught a glimpse of it as the person went around the far corner, but there was no mistaking the near golden hair.
Blake's body reacted, seemingly of its own volition. By the time she realized what she was doing, she was already halfway down the isle, frantically chasing after the Blonde woman. Blake's feet slipped slightly as she turned the corner at full speed, but she quickly regained her footing.
Yang was only a few feet away now, Blake's heart and mind yearning to see the blonde's eyes again, after so long. She grabbed Yang's shoulder, heart pounding in her chest, and spun the other woman around, her mind consumed with thoughts of lilac-
Blue.
Blake froze as her eyes locked on to the shocked woman's. They were painfully, unmistakably blue. Blake would never know who this woman was, but Yang, she was not.
"I-I…I'm, uh, sorry," she stuttered, " I thought you were someone… someone else." Blake did her best to hold back tears as she turned and fled before the woman could say anything, rapidly making her way back to the Cleaning Supplies isle. She grabbed a bottle, not caring about what scent it contained, and rushed to the front of the store. Blake wanted nothing more than to get back to the motel room so she could figure out why she felt so disappointed that the woman was not, in fact, Yang.
Blake barely looked at the clerk as she paid for her goods. As she walked swiftly back to the Merryweather, a war of emotions stirred inside Blake, the freshly re-opened wound that was Yang's absence seemed to be clawing at her insides.
Before she knew it, Blake was back in her ratty motel room. Attempting, with but a small level of success, to force down her emotions, Blake set about solving the most prevalent issue that she could solve: that horrid stench.
Reaching into one of the few plastic grocery bags, Blake removed the bottle of Air Freshener. Glancing at the front of the bottle her heart seemed to jolt slightly as she read the label.
Of course, out of all the bottles there, I would grab lavender…
The irony of the situation was not lost on her, however, the humor was. A few minutes later, Blake was sitting on her bed, staring at her hands as tears fell into them. The smell of lavender, for the most part, covered the previous stench of the room. She had decided that best course of action would be to sit and think on her emotions.
Why did that happen? The second I thought I saw Yang, I freaked out. I thought I was over this. It's been too long. Whatever we had had wilted and died long ago. Still…I want to se her. No! I can't. It would only hurt us. God, she must hate me. But…what if she doesn't? Surely she doesn't love me anymore, but maybe she-
No, this is self-destructive. There is no way she'll want to talk to me. But it may be worth a shot. At the very least, she can yell at me for hurting her, and maybe give us some closure. Ugh…I hate him. I hate Adam. He ruined everything.
Her mind made up, she reached into her pocket and drew out her cell phone. Her tears had stopped, but her eyes stung, and her hands shook in fear. She stared at the keypad on her phone, and trembling fingers punched in the long-ago memorized number. She had to restart more than once for hitting the wrong numbers, but eventually punched in the correct sequence. Her thumb hovered over the "Call" button, attempting to build up the nerve to call Yang, to attempt to connect with her lost love after two years apart. With what felt like a herculean amount of strength, Blake pressed call and raised that phone to her ear. Even before the first ring, she heard a voice, and it most certainly was NOT Yang.
"The number you are trying to call is no longer an active phone number."
"FUCK!"
Her phone made a clack as it hit the far wall, all the emotions circulating through her seemed like it had exploded out of her arm as she hurled her phone. Blake fell backwards onto her bed, covering her face with her hands. Suddenly feeling incredibly disappointed, only now realizing exactly HOW much she wished to call Yang.
What now. God, if only I had stayed at Beacon. Just stayed. None of this would've happened. Yang has probably moved on, became a huntress, done everything she ever dreamed of. And I just left her. I should've stayed at Beacon…Beacon…. Beacon!
She sat up rapidly with a cry of "That's it!", and rushed forward to pick up her phone. She quickly unlocked it and loaded up the onboard internet browser, idly acknowledging the fresh crack on the top-left corner of the screen. She typed as quickly as she could "Beacon Huntsman Society". Coming to the expected website, Blake clicked on a tab that said "Active Huntsman".
She quickly typed into the search bar "Xiao Long". Two results appeared. One stating "Taiyang" and showing a gruff looking man with blonde hair and what appeared to be a Biker mustache and another showing a Woman barely into her twenties, who had long Blonde hair, purple eyes, and a purely neutral expression on her face.
She clicked on Yang's image, a deep sorrow filling her at just how melancholy the Blonde looked in that picture. She knew it was her fault, but pushed those thought out of her mind, now wholeheartedly attempting to come in contact with Yang once more.
This website was used for a variety of things, one of which, which Blake was most interested in, was the ability to come in contact with specific Huntsman and Huntresses for personal jobs. Blake scrolled to the bottom of the page, where Yang's contact information was held. Sure enough, a phone number was listed there.
Blake committed the new number to memory before navigating back to the keypad of her phone. She stared at this screen for a long time. Fear gripped her. She knew what was waiting for her on the other end of this line. She knew her heart would be crushed to dust and spat upon. However, Blake also realized her need for this to happen, in order to know in all certainty that Yang had moved on, hated her, and had found love elsewhere. If not, the what-ifs would eat at her for the rest of her life. She needed to get this over with.
This time, instead of her body trembling, she was deathly calm. She was ready to accept her punishment. This time, she hit call immediately; sorrow filling her, as she knew the burning rage that Yang was capable of. As she raised the phone up to her ear, she listened intently.
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
Then came a voice that she had only dreamed of for the passed two years. It sounded angelic, even through the filter of a cell phone.
"Hello."
"Yang! This is-"
"You have reached the voice mailbox of Yang Xiao Long"
"Oh…" Blake's heart fell as she heard Yang continue; quickly realizing that this was significantly longer than the average answering machine message.
"I use this number for about everything, so bear with me, and you'll probably figure out why I didn't answer."
I may as well listen, Blake thought, deciding that even if it wasn't Yang talking directly to her, it's still nice to hear her voice again after so long. She then focused back on Yang's words and the answering machine continued playing the message.
"Alright, If you are calling about the car, I sold it the other day, so sorry. If its Tuesday night, I'm out visiting my sister and her girlfriend, and this is a house phone, so I wont hear whatever message until tomorrow. If you are trying to sell me something, you are wasting your time. If it's anyone else, just wait for the Beep, and you know what to do."
Yang paused for a second or two, and what muted cheer was there left her voice. There were too many emotions in Yang's voice for Blake to decipher.
"And…if this is Blake…I still love you."
The phone slipped from her hand, making a thump as it hit the carpet that wasn't heard over the roaring in her ears as her brain processed what it just heard. Did she really say that? Did she really…still love Blake? Tears filled her eyes as she fell back on the bed, her hands once again finding her face.
She…she held on that long. Even after what I did, she kept holding on. I fell for the perfect woman.
Then a though came to Blake's head. What if this was an old message? What if Yang hadn't changed it in months? She needed to be sure. She needed to speak to Yang directly. Blake then resolved to try again in a few days to be sure.
Blake waited for her tears to dry, then made her way out of the room, out of the motel, and onto the streets. She would later find a job from one of the town officials to clear out a Beowolf den. From then on out, Blake simply lived her life, thoughts of Yang filling her mind. She resolved to figure out what she would say to Yang when she called again.
OOOOO00000ooooo...ooooo00000OOOOO
It had been three days since Blake attempted to get in contact with Yang. Three long days of little side jobs and thinking. Even after contemplating what she would say when Yang picked up the phone all this time, Blake had no idea what she would say. Regardless, she dialed in the number that had been filling her mind for the past few days.
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
Damn, answering machine again…
"Hello, You have failed to reach Yang Xiao Long, but bear with me here, and you might figure out why. If this is Friday night, I'm out at the stadium watching the finals of the Vytal Tournament."
Ah, I forgot that was this week.
"And first thing Saturday, I'm off on a hunt, and I wont be back all weekend, but I will call you back when I get home on Sunday afternoon."
And once again, there was a pause, and her voice changed into that odd blend of sadness and hope.
"And if this is Blakey, know that I still love you…"
Once again her heart clenched at these words, but through a massive force of will, Blake managed to keep the phone up to her ear. There was a sigh on the other end of the phone, followed by a beep. Blake was crying again, she seemed to be doing that a lot lately, and barely managed to choke out her phone number, but not another word.
Blake lowered the phone more gently now, hanging up. It would be a while before Yang would return; it was Friday.
God, I can't believe this is happening.
After a couple of long, painful days of doing damn-near nothing but eating and thinking, Blake had finally figured out what she would say. She had been sitting by her cell phone one her bed for what felt like days, when in reality, it had been about an hour and a half. Now, with nothing to do that wasn't immediately ruined by thoughts of Yang, Blake resorted to sitting on her bed and waiting for a call that might not come.
It was nearly nine o'clock.
Why would she call anyway? She won't call. I should've said more than just my phone number. Maybe she couldn't tell it was me. I should've said who I am. I was crying as I said it. Oh God, she not going to-
Blake's self-destructive thoughts were cut off as piano notes began to fill the room, almost flowing from her phone. They were far from a masterpiece, but her ringtone at that moment was one of the most beautiful things she had ever heard.
She sat and waited until her phone's timer was almost over, just before it would've moved Yang to voicemail. Blake picked up the slightly cracked phone that seemed in this moment like a gift from the heavens.
Blake answered the phone.
OOOOO00000ooooo...ooooo00000OOOOO
Yang sat in her home, a phone pressed up to her ear, her heart pounding. She was still dirty and sweaty from her hunt, but she didn't care. She had checked her voicemail, and heard something that shook her world.
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
There was a small click, and Yang opened her mouth to speak, but was immediately cut off as a heavenly smooth voice on the other end of the line.
"If you're calling about my heart, it's still yours. Maybe I should've listened to it a little sooner. Then maybe it would have taken so long to know that wherever you are is where I really belong. And by the way, Yang…this isn't a machine you are talking to…can't you tell? This is Blake.
And I still love you…"
Tears of pure joy filled Yang's eyes, her heart swelling. "Blake?" she managed to choke out through her tears.
"Yes Yang…"
"I still love you."
OOOOO00000ooooo...ooooo00000OOOOO
Epilogue
Yang smiles as she takes another drag from a cigarette. It was a band habit that she had picked up after Blake left, but now that her kitten had retuned, she planned on this being her last cigarette. It was for a good cause, anyway.
Blake had been back for around two months now, and they had been some of the happiest of Yang's life. However, two weeks ago, Blake had finally told Yang why she left in the first place, and about what Adam did, and what he had been doing behind her back. They made a decision then, about what would happen.
Blake had given the address of the old wooden house that Adam was operating out of. From there it was simply deciding how it would happen.
It was all too easy. An hour ago, Yang had ridden up to the house in Nero in the dead of night, and dismounted her bike. Using the keys that Blake had given her, the door was easily unlocked. From there, Yang made her way to Adam's bedroom, where the bull faunus was sleeping. Before the bastard who damn-near ruined her life for two years could react, he was bound to his own bed with steel cord.
After insuring that Adam knew just who was standing over him, Yang duct taped his mouth shut, and from there it was simply as act of spreading a certain fluid around the house, and walking to the front yard, where she stood now.
Taking one final drag from her cigarette, Yang pulled that tobacco product from her mouth, she let out a small puff of smoke and balanced it on her index finger and thumb, as one would hold a coin they were about to flip. With a quick flick of her thumb, the burning cigarette butt was sailing through the air, landing on a wet patch on the grass.
However, it was not water wetting this grass. The gasoline caught fire easily, and a trail of flames slowly creeped up the path to Adams ajar front door. Hitting a larger puddle, and slowly spreading out, catching more and more on fire.
Yang counted down from ten, which was how long she estimated it would take the flames to reach the Terrorist's room. Sure enough, as she hit zero, muffled screaming could be heard in the house as Adam realized exactly what Yang had done.
Yang slipped on a pair of aviator sunglasses as Taurus's house burst into flames. She was grinning as she tuned back to Bumblebee. The fire teams would be here soon, but they would be too late to save Adam. The deed was done.
Yang straddled the seat of Bumblebee, the engine purring between her legs, the noise reminding her of the lost love she finally had back, and began to drive. It was a long drive back to Vale, but it didn't matter; Blake was waiting on the other end of her trip…
And she still loved her.
A/N
Well, after several weeks of working on this, I believe it is finally done. I am almost literally crying tears of joy right now.
(1): Yes, it does appear that not every mobile phone in the RWBY universe is a scroll, as you could see Yang had one in the Yellow Trailer.
