Velvet watched the camp carefully from afar, hardened eyes counting the site's occupants through her binoculars. Night had fallen, and there was little worry of blowing their position under another Mojave moon. It had taken them some time to track the travelling group, and it was always a gamble between covering lost ground or forgo their concealment. Even when properly armed, she knew better than to underestimate the desert she spent her whole life fighting against. Even if they were higher up than anything could reach them, they were never truly alone.

She shifted slightly in her prone position, edging quietly toward the edge to gain a better position. There were five of them in total; two bound by the wrist, probably gagged, and three uniformed bodies keeping vigilant over their newly acquired persons. One watched over their bound persons by the fire, another keeping an eye on the perimeter, and the last sleeping inside a tent. By the looks of it, she gathered that this was more of a small scouting party meant to train new recruits. They were smaller, scrawny even, but the colors they wore were infamous enough to make the toughest mercs nervous. Those who allied themselves with the Legion were protected to a degree, though they were expected to adhere to whatever orders commanded of them. At that point, Velvet believed it was asking anyone what sort of slave they wish to be; a soldier or a commodity. She could hear her partner growl in frustrated anticipation, his impatience probably wearing thin.

"I'm looking at two initiates and probably a veteran," she reported. "It's a good ol' camping trip. Nothing the two of us can't handle."

"Don't take them lightly," the man warned. "One mistake is the difference between getting away with some injuries and getting away at all."

She lowers the binoculars and looks over to her side. Like her, he was lying prone in worn out clothes that hinted of military accents; combat fatigues (sans the over shirt) and boots colored like sand. The only other things standing out about him were the crimson beret and the shades he never removed. Of the things to stand out to her, those two things brought a strange feeling within the young woman. Like an ominous sense of déjà vu she couldn't shake off, threatening her in a way that made her wish she remembered. Velvet was sure that she knew someone like her current partner, or at least resembled the way he looked. That, and his consistently abrasive attitude to her. She returned to looking through her binoculars while he maintained a visual through his rifle's scope.

*beeping and chirping noises*

Above them both hovered a small, orbital bot that kept guard over them during their reconnaissance. Some sort of special Duraframe eyebot she found at the Mojave Express where she started her work as a courier. It was also the same place where it lead her to being knocked out and shot at point blank for some vague reason over a platinum poker chip. Still, Velvet didn't remember seeing such a thing upon her first visit, and with a bit of tinkering (with some scrap material she had on hand) she brought the thing back to life. She had very little experience travelling with anything robotic, but she welcomed any armed company that didn't outright shoot her. It even introduced itself (or something like an introduction) as "Eyebot Duraframe Subject E", but for the mouthful it was she simply called him Eddie.

Velvet believed it was the ideal companion; a guard dog that didn't need to be fed or watered, and someone to talk to who wouldn't talk back with such a familiarly sour attitude. It was nice, knowing she didn't have to sleep in some ruins with the constant fear of something creeping up on her. On a particularly good night, Eddie would have already dealt with them by the time she woke and brought her sights on the intruding bastards.

"You and I are thinking the same thing. Are you always this wound up?"

"This coming from a junkie?" he bit back. Velvet matched his surly expression with a scowl of her own. Hell, even Eddie gave her a few sympathetic blips. She had been nice enough to not ask too much about the man, even when she had helped him kill some woman the first few days of her arrival. Hell, she said nothing when she learned it was all about finding the person responsible for the turning his wife over to the Legion. She respected his boundaries, but he had forgotten to respect hers. Leave it to her to be honest about her "past time" to open up some sort of friendly connection, if not earn his trust. "The Big Bastard Boone" she privately named him. Eddie was a better confidante, and the bot didn't particular have a choice in the matter.

"You don't know them like I do," he continued without an apology. "Even the weaker ones like those two can be a problem if you aren't careful. They train them to endure the worst, and enact their own."

"Good thing you're a crack shot."

*whirring and clicking sounds*

"See? Eddie agrees with me."

"Unless they take cover or their armor's too dense."

"Tell me again, what was your old motto?"

The sniper remained silent, but she knew he was getting agitated. Serves him right for being such a prick.

"I think it was something like, "The last thing they never see" right? Well let's just hope you're not too rusty. Wait for my signal. Come on boy, you're with me."

Before there was any retort, Velvet shouldered her weapon and began to climb down from their vantage point with robotic companion in tow. Night wouldn't last long and she would have to make her move now if they wanted to strike before their leader was aware of the ambush. Practiced feet touched the earth quietly, and she carefully made her way toward the camp; mentally taking note of what she had on her. There were the microfusion cells for her laser rifle, tucked away in a convenient and easily accessible part of her belt. Her trusty broad machete remained sheathed at her side, a few stimpaks if things get too hairy, and some good ol' dynamite (thank you Easy Pete). It wasn't enough to kill someone outright, but it did pack enough punch to cripple a few raiders or slow down some eager nightstalkers. She even had a special surprise for this bunch, duct taping a few sticks together for a bigger boom.

Rock after rock they moved, careful to say still whenever she heard a sound that wasn't theirs. They would wait until she deemed it safe enough to move, and proceed to stalk toward the camp. Ducking behind some safe rocky cover, Velvet peered around to see the camp's inhabitants still there as one of the recruits moved toward the fire. They were still some good distance away, but moving any further would put them in the open. There was an exchange of voices, too low for her to hear, but she assumed they were about switch turns. She brought up the Pip-Boy, careful to keep both bodies in view for the VATS to scan over. It would be the only time both targets would be in close proximity with each other, and she would need Eddie to work with her in tandem like always.

"Safety protocols off Eddie. Red means Dead."

*Clearance granted. Bystanders accounted for. Awaiting command.*

She drew her rifle, placing the stock firmly against her shoulder as her eyes focused on her target through her scope; right between those goggled eyes. VATS had given her a good seventy-six percent to hit, but she would have to make do.

"Sync in three…"

*2*

"One…"

Velvet squeezes the trigger, and her rifle hums with a warm familiar thrum as a line of red energy surges across the open space. She watches through the lens as the laser hits its mark, singing the helmet of the recruit as Eddie's own streak of crimson strikes the other recruit in the chest. Pained cries fill the night air as they both continue to fire at the two Legionnaire Recruits, and the two of them kept up the constant barrage of energy based attack. She was quick to fire at the vital areas of joints and unarmored flesh; sparing no advantage that could be in their favor.

"Ambush!" One of them cried. "We're being—"

She squeezes the trigger once more and the shot fires true, singeing a path through the man's throat. His hands grabbed desperately at the wound before falling over still, leaving his partner with a similar fate as Eddie hones its targeting sensors over the man's chest. Blood spurts forth from his mouth, cradling the gaping hole over his stomach as he falls back. Discharging the spent fusion cell, Velvet loads another as the Veteran quickly emerges from his tent from the sudden commotion. His movement is frantic, searching for the source of the attack when his looks toward Velvet's direction; too slow to duck and hide. Upon impulse (and hearing the war cry of the Veteran), she pulls away from view as a hail of bullets fire in rapid procession; chipping away at her earthy cover. Her bot companion doesn't fair so well, taking a few hits against his metallic frame before charging toward the oncoming foe. She could hear the man grunt in pain, but it is overcome by the sound of Eddie's chassis continuing to endure the hail of lead. Eventually, there is a heavy sound of something falling to the ground and the gunfire stops.

"Shit," she curses under her breath. It would take some time to fix the poor thing up, assessing the damage and hoping the parts she kept around would be enough. Velvet couldn't even move from her cover unless she was willing to take a few hits if it means trying to fire a shot off in return.

"The Legion will ensure your suffering is long and torturous," the Veteran called out. "All the rumors you miserable and pathetic lot have heard are NOTHING to what we do to those who openly oppose us!"

Another hail of bullets ricochet hits her cover as the man approaches.

"Crucifixion will be a mercy compared to what I have in mind! We will flay your flesh!"

Velvet hastily removes the scope from her laser rifle, tucking it in a secure pocket while her hands searched elsewhere.

"You will watch as we feed you bit by bit to the hounds!"

"Come on, COME ON! Where are you!?" Her thoughts race as her fingers wrap around a familiar item.

"And if you still draw breath then!"

There is a brief moment of relief as she pulls out the syringe, and quickly slams it against her leg. Her thumb pushes against the plunger, and she grits her teeth as fire surges throughout her body.

"Then may Caesar grace your presence as he passes judgment over your final moments!"

Velvet feels the familiar rush of adrenaline, a deafening beat pulsing in her ears, and she throws the spent syringe. Even in the haze of the Med-X effects, she quickly counts the seconds where the Veteran would round the corner to find her. The man would no doubt empty a full clip into her if she wasn't careful, but her faces pulls into a joyous grin; the anticipation of drug induced battle high so tantalizing close. Her hands, though numb, grip her weapon tightly as she rounds the stony cover.

A shot is heard overhead, and in her unfocused state Velvet notices the man staggering slightly. It doesn't deter him from pulling the trigger, and a few parts of her body rock against the impact as she pushes the charge. She endures, and in a swift motion swings the stock of her laser rifle against the offending hand. It disarms the Veteran, and she follows up with a quick jab towards the concealed face; pushing her body with the blow. It knocks the man back, crashing against the earth as she sights her rifles and squeezes the trigger. The dark knight flickers with crimson light like a sparkler petering out, and the sounds of a rifle converting energy over and over are the only sounds in the air.

In that moment, Velvet doesn't see the Legionnaire before her or the desert around them. Instead there is the face of a young boy, sporting a boorish grin that is directed at her… and only her. Burnt orange hair cut short, dressed in some old armor with a bird emblazoned across his chest plate, but it's the piercing blues eyes that unsettle her. Like the eyes of a predator, she's too afraid to look away or run as others begin to flank him. They too were dressed in similar armor, and like the boy their eyes watch her tauntingly. The weapons they carried with them looked just as archaic and useless, but she wouldn't doubt their lethal nature in her suddenly exposed state. Somehow that wasn't what she was afraid of as they closed in, their hands pushing and pulling at her body; excruciating pain as limbs contort and bend at their whim. There is so much pain, but it's the burning sense within that becomes to unbearable. Velvet knows she can fight them, have fought others like them once before over unfair pay or brazen insults. In this world, this godforsaken wasteland, it was surrender or survive and hell would freeze over before she lets anyone treat her that way. Not anymore…

So why couldn't she fight them back?

Their laughter fills her head, and her faces burns with something she would never admit to feeling to Eddie.

It was shame, embarrassment, and the bitter taste of self loathing that fills her mouth. She screamed out in defiance, but those four continued to torment her relentless.

Beyond them in the darkened abyss, she could see three other people.

They were two men and a woman whose vague faces brought both comfort and helplessness; waiting and watching. For what? Velvet wanted to cry out, reach for them, anything to gather their attention. The woman, standing in the middle, continued to watch behind dark shades and a black beret.

She didn't know how many times she's fired her gun, but when the haze begins to fade there is nothing left of the man's face. Her breath hitches, trying to cope with the sudden bout of exhaustion and creeping pain. For as helpful as Med-X was in stalling the pain, her body was beginning to grow resistant to it with the effect becoming shorter and shorter that comes after a bad trip. It was a familiar one with those seven faces, those four bastards, but she knew the other three were important somehow. Every time and every trip, they were somehow there; hovering around the edges of her high, but her mind couldn't recall or remember what they were to her. There would be another time to think it over, and she gives the body before her heavy stomp between the legs before stumbling away.

Weary eyes searched the darkness to where she last left Boon, raising a thumbs in hopes of sending him a signal. He may have been a complete asshole from the moment they started working together, but she would never doubt his skill. She quickly searched for Eddie, finding him dormant on the ground, and began to drag it toward the campfire. Velvet wished she could do something about the bot charging headlong into a firefight, because dragging his heavy chassis was doing a number on her tired joints.

"You two… okay…" she asked between breathes as she approached the captives. Her vision is blurred, but she can make out their shapes of their bodies. She sets Eddie down and does her best to unbind the wrists of the captured bodies, fingers fumbling unresponsively as the person before her begins to struggle. She grumbles in annoyance, doing her best to hold them still, but the struggling persists and she begins to notice that the body is pulling away from her fearfully. A few possibilities come to mind, one in particular being that they witnessed a drug enraged person attacking the camp with brutality and they were unsure if it was friend or foe. Velvet had been merciless on purpose, sparing no man of Caesar's Legion with the confidence that they would have never done the same. Yet the man's eyes before her were looking frantically behind her as he continued to edge away.

"We'll always have your back Vel. Never forget that."

Her body ducks to the side, rolling away from the sudden edge of a spear that would have otherwise impaled her. She quickly rights herself up, drawing the broad machete from its sheath, and focusing as best as she can at the murky figure lunging at her. Her vision swirls with colors of light and dark, trying to orient and focus on the shape before her as she slashes forward. She can feel the blade in her hand knocked aside, missing its mark, and a sharp pain is felt slicing across her shoulder. Striking upward, the blade pushes off the shaft of the spear and lunges once more to the opposing form. It catches, but she can feel that the wound is shallow with how thin the contact was. She could hear the person grunt in frustration, signaling another attack that she used brace herself. Her hands bring up the blade to swing wildly, fending off each lunge of the spear with every step back.

"Something's wrong, right? And you're hiding it from us," a man's voice asked. It was soft, almost a murmur, like he refused to speak any louder.

"Not now," her thoughts counter. Velvet couldn't allow the voices to distract her, pull her into a lulled state of complacency as her body screamed for rest. She swings the blade vertically, hoping to get him across the chest, but is met with the shaft of the spear.

"Why do you allow them to torment you?" A deeper voice filled with concerned. It towered over her protectively, like a shield; like a shadow.

She winches as another pain strikes her, a blunt force meeting her stomach while faster motions disarm her of her blade. Her cheek is met with a fist, firm and strong that sends her sprawling to the ground as the burning sensation settles in. Velvet tries to scramble back up as another fist meets with her face, a heavy weight crashing down upon her and pinning her form to the ground. Over and over her head is wracked with pain under the flurry of blows from the body above her. Each hit sends her further into a stunned and dazed state, her body beginning to give in to the fatigue as her adrenaline ebbs away.

"Those were my brothers you bitch!" Her head rocks once more upon another blow. "I will make sure their deaths are avenged, and that the rest of us see to that personally."

There is a slight pause, and she isn't sure whether or not she had passed out from the pain and overwhelming sensation to slip away. Hand begins to feel around her body, grasping and pulling away at her clothes and armor.

"Starting with me."

"Never let them get to you. You will ALWAYS be better than whatever they wished they could be."

Velvet's body burns with a sudden burst of energy, fear filling every fiber like a cornered animal, and began to lash out in desperation. Fingers scraped against the man's mask and helmet, tearing them away and digging into the skin of his face. His struggles back, hitting her once more but is stopped altogether by her outstretched hands. Legs kick rampantly in hopes of bucking him off of her, but the man maintains his position while his hands wrap around her throat. The airways are suddenly cut off, influencing her panic to the extreme as Velvet's attempt to escape slowly starts to weaken. The pressure tightens and attempts to claw at his face prove futile; his arms much longer than hers. Her head rocks against the earth as the man begins to shake her violently, eyes gleaming in the darkness.

Velvet's fingers scrape against the hands around her neck weakly.

Her vision blurs.

All she could feel know is warm rush liquid fall upon her face as the body suddenly slumps heavily and inert. Air returns to her lungs, and each breath is needy and grating; hands pulling the now still corpse out of her. She wipes away at the blood, and standing against the darkened sky is Boone; wiping away the blood off of his machete.

"I warned you," his voice reminded gravely. "If you keep being this reckless, then there's no point working together. I'm out to hunt down the Legion, but I can't do that if you place us in danger."

Velvet says nothing, choosing instead to regain her breath and the small amount of rest she could gather laying on the earth. Of course he was right. She hated it, but he was right and her thoughts slowly became clearer. He knelt by her side, watching and waiting for her. While he never gloated about being right, she could sure as hell feel it even when he extended a hand to help her up. She took it begrudgingly, her body swaying a bit as her legs found footing strong enough to hold her. She continued to wipe away the rest of the blood as Boone turns his back to her, keeping an eye to the surrounding area.

"Fix yourself up quickly. We won't know if another patrol is headed our way."

Hands quickly fixed and adjusted her cloths and armor, thankful that he was decent enough to not stare or watch.

"Thanks," she mumbled. Gathering the rest of her things, the two of them walked back to the campfire where the captives remained. Looking over them both, they matched the descriptions of people Velvet once encountered before; blue uniformed rags resembling prison garb, and the familiar scent of gunpowder carries off of them. Powder Gangers; self acclaimed raiders of the Mojave causing for harm than necessary. Some outright attacked and raided, others simply keeping watch over whatever post the bigger fish commanded them too. The removed their gags, and upon release they whimpered and cowered before them.

"Please! Please don't kill us!" One of them cried. "We didn't kill anyone!"

"But you were at Nipton when the town was besieged. Even before then, the reputation served no one well," Velvet countered.

"We're just trying to survive," the other chimed in. "Me and him? We're no one special in the Gangers. They send us out to do everything from getting supplies and trade in Nipton without so much gun to keep the Geckos off us."

"You're both still convicted men, sent to the NCR Correctional Facility right? If the rumors are true, then you were part of the riots that overtook that place," Boone countered. "A guilty man is still guilty, even if they escape from the Legion."

Both men turned to face her, fear etched on their faces as they implored her to believe them. They scooted closer to Velvet, raising their bound hands in their plea.

"Please don't! We haven't raided or scouted anyone to attack. We just did what we were told because it's either that or starve and lose the only place that's safe anymore. Please!"

She looks over to her partner who shook his head in indifference. He was only after the Legion, and everyone else was left to their devices. The man ultimately left the decision to her and moved to inspect the rest of the tents. Her eyes looked over each of them equally, gauging to see if there was any hint of deception behind their words. When she brought her laser rifle to her hands, the flinched and began to scoot away. They could be lying, trying to play into her sympathies and hide whatever cruel crimes behind false tears. If she lets them both go, she was invariably responsible for the lives of innocents if they decide to turn on them. Killing them now would save others from future troubles if she allowed the Gangers to regroup and gather numbers.

Velvet pulls up the rifle to eye level, aiming the sightless gun as best she could at their vulnerable forms. One of the men bowed their heads in fear, refusing to look at his imminent death. The other stared at her, defiant and pleading, but he never broke away from her gaze. At this distance, she couldn't miss.

She squeezes the trigger four times, two for each of them.

They trembled in fear as the energized beams hit the dirt behind them, surprised and shocked that they remained alive. Shouldering her weapon, she cuts away at their bindings and helps both men to their feet.

"No one survived this ambush," she stated clearly. "Whoever you two were before this attack died when the camp was razed to the ground. Whatever past you carry is left here for good. You have new names, new lives, and a clean slate. Remember this if you ever think of harming another person again."

They nodded quickly, sputtering whatever thanks or gratitude they could muster to their savior. Velvet shook it off and ordered them to search the rest of the camp and gather whatever was valuable or usable for trade.

It was a reminder not for them, but for her. Like them, she was just another person trying to survive as best as she could until they were suddenly drawn into something out of their power. She didn't have a choice in the matter when her hands were bound, and she stared at the barrel of gun that should have killed her. She would right that mistake in due time. The four of them gathered everything that carried a sliver of value, even taking the armor of the fallen Legion to be repurposed as something else. They moved everything a safe distance a way, and both Velvet and Boone overlooked the empty raiding camp. She had since used a stimpak to tide the pain over, and applied some medicinal powders over the wounds to prevent infection. She would need a doctor to tend to her later, and hope that none of the lead were still stuck in side her.

"If any of them come here, they're going to start asking questions," the sniper reminded them.

"I know."

"And if they start sending them to Novac…"

"We know a troop of NCR agents patrol the lands around here. We let them know, they bring their rounds closer to town, and we bolster whatever defense we can."

He let the thought sink quietly as Velvet lights her bundled stick of dynamites and a few other "gifts" as well.

"We could have used the campfire to set the place on fire. What you're doing right now… isn't it a bit much?"

She throws the dynamite toward the largest tent, and the rest of the firebombs at the others. There is a large sound of explosion as the tent that once carried crates and barrels of supplies blows outward while the rest of the camp begins to catch fire. She holds the last bottle in hands, swirling the flammable contents inside as she stares at the pile of bodies in the middle of camp. Velvet aims carefully and lets the bottle fly, hearing the impact of broken glass and gaseous ignition spread across the corpses.

"It's a message," she answers.

"For who?"

"For me. For you. For them. For anyone."

"And what does it say?"

"No more."

Coco jolts awake as a hand gently rest on her shoulder.

Her body aches greatly having to sleep in a chair beside her teammate, and she rubs away the tireless sleep from her eyes. The young woman had long put away her usual accoutrements, placing her shades and beret at a bedside table. Tired eyes searched for the nearby clock, finding the time to be very early morning. Following the hand, she turns to find a familiar face towering over her wearing a similar concerned and troubled expression.

"Hey Yatsu," she yawned. "Everything okay back at the dorm."

"As best as it can be," he answers solemnly. "Fox is asleep, but it doesn't look restful."

"I'm beginning to feel the same." She stretches, working away the kinks and sore spots at her body when the hand on her shoulder squeezes gently.

"I'll watch over her."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

Coco hesitated, wanting to defend her place at Velvet's side, but she could see the eagerness the taller man's gaze. He too hadn't slept well, and it had shown with how his shoulders slumped wearily and his eyes shifted between and his partner. With a sigh, she relented and stood; gathering her stuff in the process. Yatsuhashi moved to take her seat, careful to not cause too much noise and bother the still comatose girl; as if it still meant something.

"Did Ozpin learn anything knew?"

"Not from what he last told us."

Unconsciously, Coco's hand went to her scroll where her headmaster had sent their findings of the accident. It was apparently dust based, having been overcharged or overpowered with whatever technological monstrosity her teammate, Ruby, and Nora had concocted together. She and the other teams had gone over the makeshift blue prints the three girls formed together, but it didn't explain why their friends were in such a state. At most, explosions were concussive by nature; only lethal dependant on the sort of dust they used. Event then the damage should have been manageable with their aura up and protecting them form the initial blast.

But it didn't explain why none of the girls have woken up.

At best, Ruby and Nora reacted in their state of deep sleep; calling out to their teams or at least showing signs of being okay. It made Coco somewhat envious that the other two teams at least had some assurance that Ruby and Nora were okay while Velvet… She looked over to her teammate once more before patting the large man reassuringly on the back.

"She'll wake up. Vel's tough like that."

Coco wasn't even sure if her words helped him, or if it even helped her.

"I know," he answered simply. "Go now. Sleep in your bed for once, and I'll let you and Fox know if something changes."

She nods in confirmation and slowly leaves the room, still conscious and careful not to be to noise n her exit. Her tired feet carry her down the ward and past the different rooms of the infirmary. Nurses pass her in their rounds, but her own thoughts are occupied by her teammate. Questions that haven't been answered or fully addressed, and the thing she's learned from Ozpin and the teams…

Of course she was being bullied. Most faunus that attended academies like Beacon would be, but she and the rest of team had done their damnedest to make sure to stop it as best they could. Her fist curls tightly with the surmounting anger that someone like Winchester would so bravely pick on her friend, her sister in arms. What hurt the most though was that Velvet would continue to put up with it all. That she would willing take the bullying, the jeers, the remarks because she refused to place their team in any sort of trouble. Hell, it would have been easy to put a greenhorn like Cardin in his place and remind the arrogant little pissant that he was a year younger and weaker than them. They had seen Velvet hold her own against plenty of Grimm that would have made little work of the bully. So why didn't she fight back? Why didn't she come to them when they were willing to fight for her?

And why would she go to Ruby and Nora?

Her ears catch a sound, stopping her in her path in front of another familiar door.

Nora's room.

Through the glass placed slip in the door, she saw the back of Lie Ren facing her as he stayed watching over her. The door was left oddly ajar, striking it unusual from how she heard Jaune and Pyrrha describe the boy's disposition. He was quiet, hardly answering his team and choosing to have his privacy with Nora in her current state. It must have been a nurse or that he forgot to ensure the room was private, but she could hear the sounds of muffled sobs. Moving closer, she found that he had taken the bubbly girl's hand, placing it carefully in his own.

"I'm here Nora… I'm here…" was all she heard before moving away.

It wasn't her place to console him, even if she knew the poor boy's suffering.

Coco made the long journey back to their dorm, unlocking the door with her Scroll and stepping inside. The room was dimly let with a lamp in the corner of the room turned low.

"You're back," a tired and quiet voice greeted her.

Naturally, her eyes went over to Fox's bed but found it empty. Looking to her side of the room, copper colored hair lifted up to look in her direction as sightless eyes squinted in worry.

"I am," she answered.

"And is she okay? Vel?"

"Still sleeping, like always."

Sleeping. A word providing a small and thinly veiled comfort to their thoughts.

"Okay… okay…" He rested his head back onto Velvet's pillow, draping an arm over his eyes. Coco noticed that he had yet to dress out of his uniform, and steadily began to remove her own. Dressing into her usual sleepwear, she climbed into her teammate's bed and brought him closer to her. She didn't want to sleep alone tonight, and she could tell that Fox felt the same way. Arms wrapped around his waist tightly, afraid to let him go.

"You're shaking."

"And you're awake."

"I know."

The room returns to quiet as their breathing steadies. Each inhale brought a familiar scent from the pillows and sheets, and with it a cheery smile that had been so long since last seen.

"She'll be fine," Coco spoke suddenly.

"You're worrying."

"She'll wake up soon."

"Coco."

She stops as Fox's arms encircle her as well, matching the tightness of her own hold.

"Sleep. We need rest for the classes today."

"And she'll be awake tomorrow for sure."

"She will."

They were words that she spoke every time before she slept, like a wish or mantra that would come true if she said them enough times. A hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand times if it meant that their closest friends would finally hear them. Even if the following morning showed that Velvet remained asleep, Coco would recite those words.

She will.

She will.

She will.