Well, this has officially become a mini fic. Not sure I wanna go 40+ chps with this thing, but maybe no more between 10-15 chps for this one. I dunno. These kind of fics tend to take a life of their own, and I don't want any of this material to interfere with my other RWBY fic Crimson King (which is close to hitting 30+ chps O.O;;) so I'll try to make this more post-Grimm invasion speculative Vol 4 and beyond. So this'll be more dark and gritty and since Yang's got an uncensored mouth-still waiting for her to start whipping out the big girl words on the show, lol-there's gonna be language and adult themes because this is YANG for crying out loud. Also this work assumes Yang struggling with depression and the decision to receive a bionic arm designed like Ember Celica so she can feel useful again. That part is pure speculation.
Anyway big shout out to Lady-Nevermore 13 for providing the plot bunny for this thing. That being said, let's jump right in. :)
...
Yang settled into the cargo hold of the airship with Professor Goodwitch seated across from her, blinking in the drab grey of the dawn sky. The soldiers took up positions around the doors, gun muzzles dipped toward the floor as it took off for the Safe Zone.
Stoic and silent, she allowed her lilac eyes to grow unfocused. The Bonecracking Bimbo-one of the more derogatory names the world at large dubbed her after the infamous kneecapping incident and a nickname she hated with the passion of a thousand fiery suns-stared blankly at the metal cargo door, thankful it was devoid of color. She didn't bother correcting it because she could care less what a bunch of sheep thought.
Jesus what a mess. Everything's shot to hell.
Normally she'd follow up with even more bad puns but that required her to think and be happy about life and right now, it hurt way too much. Not to mention, it was a part of her old self and Yang wanted nothing to do with that version of herself anymore.
"How are you feeling, Ms. Xiao Long?"
Please shut up Goodwitch. Yang thought as she leaned her head against the cargo hold. I'm not in the mood for you to play shrink.
"Like absolute hell. End of story."
The way she said it made Glynda raise an eyebrow. The child needs help. She can't keep going on like this.
"Care to elaborate?"
Yang shot her former instructor a frozen glare, one that Weiss would've been proud of had she been there to witness it.
"No. Don't ask me again."
Yang's mouth shut like a box, showing a verbal and mental efficiency she'd been forced to adopt the hard way ever since her brutal encounter with Adam Taurus in Beacon's cafeteria. Nothing excited her anymore. Her dream of becoming a huntress was in shambles, the desire to travel the world seeking adventure brutally beat into submission.
The memories of taunting Grimm, whooping it up as she killed the beasts was nothing more than a painful sore spot. It was something the old Yang would've done and she was determined not to go back to that person if she could help it. The old Yang had been too soft. Too trusting. Too caring. Too reckless. Too cocky.
And far too vain, especially over trivial things. Like her top-heavy chest or her stupid hair.
Not anymore.
I didn't want to come back to Vale. But noooo, stupid DAD thinks I need to start getting back on my feet. Prolly cause he's afraid I might kill myself if he leaves my room. The old Yang wouldn't have dared entertain such dark, vicious thoughts. She never would've imagined becoming a cripple, her career ended before it even began.
All thanks to a sick chain of horrible events that led to all out war in the city and Beacon's grounds.
But in the bleak kill or be killed new world everyone found themselves living in, self-doubt was a luxury nobody could afford. Neither was mercy. Or kindness. Or love. She'd experienced firsthand-along with the rest of the student body-what happened to those who clung to noble ideals and it wasn't a pretty sight.
Yang clenched her fist together a trickle of gold aura briefly forming around her knuckles before fading out. She didn't have the energy to summon any more because actual effort was needed. She didn't feel like providing any.
Yang didn't mind the silence. Sitting in her room was easier to deal with than actual humans anymore. Or Faunus for that matter. Blake doubting her innocence and running away had cut her to the quick and if she was being honest, partially responsible for fracturing Team RWBY into pieces.
"Ladies and gentlemen, ETA to the Safe Zone in less than five minutes. I repeat, less than five minutes outside the Safe Zone."
A ghost of a smile curled Yang's lip. If Goodwitch was telling the truth, there was alcohol to be had. And she'd be damned if anything kept her from drinking some.
As she sat cross-legged on the airship's cold, metal floor cruising over the deserted streets of Vale, Yang couldn't help but recall how surreal the landscape still looked. Abandoned shops and apartments with doors creaking in the breeze and shattered windows, seemed to glare accusingly at the eighteen year old. You did this stupid girl. They seemed to say as she traveled past them in midair via Glynda's Semblance. This is your fault.
Torn newspapers and books lay scattered over the pavement. Partial to fully destroyed homes and businesses had been reduced to rubble with steel bits and the ever-present carpet of glass littered the empty streets. And the most ominous was the sight of dried bloodstains painting the streets and buildings a rusted brown. Vale's innards forcibly ripped out and splattered everywhere, with the skeletons of thousands crumbling in the Grimm infested city.
You killed us. The mummified bodies accused. Why? Why did you attack the boy? We're dead because you were seeing things. Was it worth our lives? Well? WAS IT?!
Yang pursed her lips as she tried to block out the images of debris piles and the dusty remains of dead citizens she and her friends failed to save.
No. Don't think about the streets running red with blood. Don't think about the screams. Don't think about the terror, the panic, the sirens wailing, the fires, all the death...so much death-
-and destruction...
-and despair...
She gritted her teeth. If I ever see you Mercury, you are SO deader than dead-
Yang sucked in a deep breath, exhaling heavily through her nose. Calm down. As much as it pained her, Yang knew she couldn't pin the blame on the devious kicker for her poor choices. I have to take responsibility for my part in this disaster. Accident or not...hundreds of people lost their lives and I lost my arm because I got careless.
She didn't think about how Ruby would've pleaded with her to let it go, that she didn't want anyone to die, especially the tall silver-haired man. Her little sister had looked up to Merc as the cool older brother she never had. That and she'd greatly admired him as a fellow warrior and his insane fighting skills.
But that was back when they'd all been blinded to the truth. In blissful ignorance, Yang-the old happy, carefree one-had been taken in by his cocky attitude, cool confidence and that wicked smirk. She wondered if he'd survived the invasion then shook the stray thought off. It didn't matter. The damage was already done.
The new, hardened present-day Yang was done caring what happened to everyone. They left her behind. Again.
So.
Don't feel.
Emotions were poison.
They'd gotten her arrested.
Cut off her arm.
Caused friends and family to abandon her.
Left her with no one but her loser father who still clung to the memories of his two wives.
Ice flooded her veins.
TBC...