Summary: Yang struggles to finally let go of all of her pain.

Freezerburn Week Prompt, Day 3.

It still hurt. Hurt even more than the time she'd lost it, than the blade that she'd seen in her nightmares every single night without fail. At least she had been unconscious through most of it back then; this time, she had been wide awake. She had been fully aware, and fully on-edge when that sudden jolt wracked throughout her entire body, sending every nerve screaming in pain just from that single blow.

It was just supposed to be a routine practice. Yang had spent days, weeks training with her father, learning how to keep her calm, to control her Semblance, to only use her weapons when she truly needed it. She had learned how to be more defensive, more in control of her emotions, and the training had certainly helped. She'd thought that when she'd first left for Mistral, that she was ready for anything. Ready to face her mother, ready to challenge her contorted views, and even ready to face her old teammates, her friends again after everything that had happened. But nothing would have prepared her for the shock of her life.

When Yang and Weiss had finally reunited with Ruby, Qrow, and the rest of JNR, Ozpin — or, rather, a little boy named Oscar who had somehow been merged with Ozpin — had wasted no time in getting the duo up to top shape again in preparation to take on Salem and her minions. Yang had already taken on every last one of their traveling companions when she was finally paired with the girl who fought closest to her heavy-hitting style — Nora.

At first, it was simple. She and Nora had sparred plenty of times in the past, and Yang had learned all of the ins and outs of the girl's attacks. She knew when to dodge, when to weave, when to expect her energetic opponent to bring out the grenades. But Yang had made a grave mistake; she'd decided to try something new, something different.

Before the match had even begun, Yang had pulled Weiss aside and asked for a Dust upgrade for Ember Celica. Dust Mastery had been the one thing Yang had yet to perfect in combat, and she wanted to try out some of the Dust-mandatory functions in her cybernetic arm. Weiss was limited on her Dust collection, however, after having been cut off by her father and losing an entire shipment of Schnee Company cargo when the airship she'd been taking refuge on came crashing down just a few miles from the Branwen Tribe Bandit Camp. Instead of denying Yang her inventory, she decided to compromise, allowing Yang to use two vials of the Dust types she'd used the least — Wind and Lightning.

Yang had already expended most of her Wind Dust by the time she and Nora had each other's Auras down to half. She was beginning to feel frustrated, knowing she somehow had to get Nora's Aura down a little further if she was going to risk depleting her own Aura enough to activate her Semblance. The brawler had retreated to the opposite end of the makeshift arena so she could buy herself just enough time to switch out her ammunition. By the time she'd finished locking and loading her weapons, Nora was already on her way back over, her hammer high above her head as she came at Yang, a high-pitched war cry escaping her mouth as she ran, her eyes fierce and determined not to let the blonde win.

A smirk had found its way creeping across Yang's cheek as she braced herself for the impact, electricity already flowing from Ember Celica and her cybernetic arm as she calculated Nora's next move. As soon as the ginger-haired girl noticed, her expression took one of victory, her war cry morphing into maniacal laughter. And then Yang remembered.

She barely had time to process the smaller girl's movements when the realization hit her, and suddenly, Yang found herself frozen, unable to act. Nora's hammer came down, and all Yang could do was block, the collision causing the electricity from Yang's weapons to build up until it exploded, shooting itself back up the cybernetic arm and causing it to short-circuit, sending what felt like a thousand jolts of electricity through the brawler's now-vulnerable body.

It took a moment for Yang to realize what was happening. It had been so long since she'd felt any real pain on that side of her body, that she almost didn't recognize it at first. But when it finally hit, when her mind finally caught up with her nerves, every joint, every muscle in her body suddenly collapsed. She fell to the dirt, screaming in pain as she reached for her right arm, twisting it until it came off.

The rest of what happened after that was a blur. She remembered seeing Nora tossing her weapon aside, dropping to her knees beside Yang, but not a single word registered in her mind as the pain seemed to consume, to block out all of her other senses. Someone — she wasn't sure who — had picked her up and carried her inside, and Yang had been lying in bed ever since.

She was alone, now, the rest of her traveling companions having given her the space to rest, but sleep was the last thing her body seemed to want to do. She was tired, oh, she was tired, but even more than that, she was pissed. Pissed that she had let down her guard, that she had forgotten about Nora's Semblance. Pissed at how vulnerable she'd been in front of all those people, Ruby especially, who had been watching from the other side of the fence. Pissed that she had wasted a perfectly good supplement of Dust, and pissed that she had now ruined the arm that Ironwood had had made especially for her.

I'm such an idiot. Those same four words echoed through her head on repeat, her eyes stinging with tears as she laid on her side, staring down at the stump where her cybernetic arm had been previously attached. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape the horrible reality that this was what her life was going to be like from now on. This wasn't going to be the last malfunction. She wasn't even sure if this was going to be the last amputation. Being a Huntress was dangerous, and there was always a risk of something going wrong. General Ironwood himself had lost half his body in his line of work, and Yang was sure she was going to see her friends and allies suffer just as many painful injuries and losses throughout their careers.

Yang wasn't sure how long she'd been laying there for when she heard the door to her room squeaking open. Rather than turning to see who it was, however, Yang just moved her gaze to the window on the other side of the room, the dim moonlight providing just enough luminescence to make out the outlines of the other furniture and objects around her.

Quiet footsteps sounded across the wooden floorboards as they stepped around Yang's bed, a figure finally coming into Yang's view. The blonde quickly closed her eyes as the figure stopped just in front of her. Her breath quickened as the figure's presence came closer, leaning down until she felt the softest of fingertips swipe at her bangs. Then, her breath caught as something else just as soft, just as sweet, pressed against her forehead.

"Feel better," a small voice whispered in her ear, calm, yet concerned. The presence disappeared, the footsteps starting again as they crossed to the other side of the room, and came to another stop several feet away. The mattress to the other bed in the room creaked as the figure sat down, and Yang finally opened her eyes to find cool, baby blue irises staring right back.

Yang's eyes widened as the girl sitting across from her just shook her head with a warm smile.

"I figured you were awake."

She sighed, having been caught, and turned her gaze back to the empty space on her bed where the rest of her arm should've been. "Weiss, I…"

"You don't have to talk," the former heiress said, her voice so full of love and concern for her teammate. "I just… I know it's been hard for you. I wanted you to know… to know that I'm here. That you don't have to go through this alone."

Yang bit her lip, tears forming in her eyes once more as she processed the other girl's words. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it when she realized she didn't have anything to say. What could she say? It was clear to everyone there that Yang still wasn't the same person she had been back at Beacon. That she was still struggling, still afraid of that—that fake limb. It would never be real. It would never replace the one she'd lost. And while she could customize it all she wanted, she would never feel as strongly about losing it than the original. There would always be more where that piece of metal came from.

Weiss stood up, and walked over to the dresser across from her bed. She pulled out a change of night clothes that Ruby had lent her, and held them close to her chest as she turned back to face Yang. "Ruby's fixing your arm for you, by the way. She's trying to rewire the circuits so it won't shock you again. Your uncle and Ozpin are helping, too, of course."

The blonde curled into herself, pulling her blanket up over her stump so Weiss couldn't look. Not that she was, but just the mention of her lack of an arm still made Yang feel self-conscious, like it would forever remain the Goliath in the room so long as it was on display. She turned her back to Weiss, blinking away tears as she listened to the sounds of shuffling clothes behind her.

"Good night," Weiss said when she'd finished changing, and had moved back to her bed.

Yang swallowed. Something about those words, about the idea of Weiss going to sleep right now, made her heart ache even more than it already was. Even though Weiss was still in the room with her, Yang felt as though they were on completely separate islands. She didn't want Weiss to fall asleep without her. She didn't want to be left behind, forced to face the night alone as she continued to cry and wallow… She just… She wanted Weiss's promise to be true, tangible enough to touch, to feel.

"Weiss?"

"Mm?"

She let out a deep, shaky breath, sniffling as she wiped away the remainder of her tears with the back of her hand. She turned back to Weiss, her heart pounding, her lilac eyes desperate. "Could you… could you come here?"

Her friend smiled, wordlessly pushing her covers away and climbing out of bed. She crossed the room to Yang's bed, lifting the blanket, not even seeming to notice the brawler's stump as she gently crawled in beside her.

Yang met Weiss with a wavering smile, unable to describe just how truly grateful she felt for the other girl's presence. She tried to thank her, but again, when she opened her mouth, no words came out, and instead she found tears blurring her vision once more.

Weiss furrowed her eyebrows, lifting a hand to the side of Yang's cheek. "It's okay," she murmured, swiping her thumb at the corner of Yang's eye where a tear broke free. "It's okay…"

She closed her eyes, willing the tears to stop, but they just kept coming. Her breath hitched, becoming more and more shallow with each frantic inhale, and the harder she tried to stay composed, the faster she seemed to fall apart.

It hurt. Everything hurt. Every fear, every painful memory, every loss she'd suffered seemed to want to surface, bubbling up until she couldn't hold it back anymore. Why now? she thought as she gritted her teeth, trying desperately to keep it all locked up. She'd already gotten through some of the hardest parts of her recovery. She'd accepted her amputation — or at least she'd thought she had until now. She'd faced her mother, finally confronted her and managed to gain a little bit of understanding in the process. She'd found Ruby, and she'd done pretty well holding herself together again until today. Why is this still happening? Why does it still hurt so much?

"Let it out," Weiss coaxed her quietly, pressing her forehead to Yang's. "It's okay to let it out…"

But it was so damn hard. Yang was shaking, now. Not just her left hand, which had been experiencing tremors for a while, now, but everything was shaking. It was like her body was telling her to let it all out, too, tired of holding all of the pain inside. She didn't want to feel like this anymore. She needed to be free.

So, finally, she let go.

When the first sob escaped, it was loud and sharp, and it scared Yang at first. But then she felt herself being pulled in, small, but surprisingly strong arms surrounding her body and filling her with warmth and protection. Then another came, and another, and another, each one accompanied by a soft, soothing voice in her ear, reminding her again and again that she was safe. And she did feel safe; for the first time in almost a year, Yang truly felt safe, right here, crumpled up in the arms of one of the strongest, most caring people she knew.

It was going to be okay. She didn't know when, she didn't know how, but somehow, even in the midst of all of her pain and heartache, she knew it was going to be okay.