Embers of Autumn

Chapter Two

She wasn't about to leave Winter's bedside, not after waiting half the night just to see her. Weiss would spend the night coiled up in a chair, somehow having slept in spite of looking hideously uncomfortable. Her head and shoulders are propped on the edge of the hospital bed, arms folded and acting as her pillow. The rest of her body stretches a small gap between the bed and the chair she inhabits, hips tilted and legs tucked up as tight as they can be. She slept like this the entire night, not moving an inch.

Ruby would check in on her every so often, her uncle having convinced her to give Weiss a little space. Around midnight she slipped into the room, unable to stand being too far from her friend. She sits on the floor after grabbing a spare pillow from the small closet in the corner, making that her bed for the rest of the night. But unlike Weiss she rolls and tosses like clockwork, somehow managing herself beneath and between the legs of the chair where she finally settles, her cape acting as a blanket.

The sun is up when Qrow pushes through the door, both trying and not trying to be too quiet. He smiles to himself at the sight of them, feeling something familiar for a moment. But seeing Winter like this kills the expression. With a little care he approaches the bed and cups Weiss' shoulder with one hand, giving her a little push.

"Hey, time to wake up."

It doesn't take much to make her stir, one deep breath expanding her chest as her shoulder blades crest in a restrained stretch. She lifts her head and turns to look at him, her eyes red like she has been crying all night. "Yes, Mr. Branwen?"

"Mornin'." he greets in a rough whisper. "Ruby and I are going to escort you home."

"Oh. All right." Her back pops several times as she straightens and yawns.

Qrow takes a step back, giving her room to shift and start putting on her shoes. He angles his neck to look under the chair at the heap of crimson and black, tapping Ruby's boot with his own. "C'mon, squirt."

A muffled grumble is the response he receives, Ruby jerking her hood tight over her head before going still again. He kicks a little harder, getting a squeak out of her this time.

"Get up, Ruby, I need you to walk me home." Weiss adds, her tone only a little demanding, a wince working across her face as she feels a sharp thud underneath her.

"'Kay."

Qrow laughs to himself.

"I intend to come back here once I've had a chance to...regroup." Weiss says as she stands up.

"I thought you would." the older hunter nods. "Here, I managed to sneak this out for you."

Slight surprise lifts her brows as Qrow presents Myrtenaster to her. Weiss takes the sword with little hesitation, belting it in its usual place around her waist with practiced precision.

"I'd suggest you keep that on you until the assassin's been caught, but I'm sure I don't have to."

"Indeed."

"And you can expect Ruby and I to stay close by."

She nods. "Better the two of you than Ironwood."

"Okay, I'm ready." Ruby finally stands up, pushing her unruly mess of hair into something resembling presentable. Though a shock of red hair stands rebelliously outward from her forehead, which Weiss takes upon herself to rectify. Ruby's little blush and smile is enough to lift the heiress' mood a little. The three of them file out of the room, Weiss lingering just long enough to cast one last worried look over her shoulder. They'll stop only once more before leaving the hospital, Weiss wanting to meet the head of Winter's security detail, a specialist that introduces herself as Operative Holiday and appears to wear the holsters for her twin pistols backwards. In spite of that Weiss felt strangely confident that her sister was in the best hands.

A white sedan is waiting at the emergency entrance, the location favored for the heavy masonry outcropping that thoroughly obscures any shots that might have been taken at them. Ruby slides in on the far side, Weiss becoming sandwiched between her and Qrow so she couldn't be seen through the windows. The ride is a quiet one, the hum of the engine the only sound. Weiss finds Ruby's hand between them, fingers lacing tightly together as her aura scrambles for the warmth. Ruby quietly reciprocates, offering just a little, understanding smile, unaware of their shared thought.

How I've missed us.

The car will park at the rear of the manor, the distance between the curb and the door much shorter than it is at the main gate, less opportunity for a shooter to line up a scope. Qrow gets out first, scanning the rooftops before gesturing with his hand for the girls to do the same. It's a brisk walk to the door and only a brief second of stillness before they push their way inside.

Weiss doesn't anticipate the resounding silence they find in the kitchen, half expecting for employees to be going about their usual routines in spite of all that happened yesterday. Likely the entirety of the manor staff was being questioned at this very moment.

"Help yourselves if you're hungry," she says in passing.

"Hm, nice looking liquor cabinet." Qrow hums.

"Except for that." her eyes thin on the back of his head, the glare intensifying slightly when he laughs.

"But in all honesty, Weiss, I don't think we should trust a crumb in this place. No offense."

"None taken." she knows well enough what he means, realizing quickly how right he could be.

Coming into the main room of the house, Weiss doesn't miss Ruby's little astonished gasp, though she resists the urge to smile about it.

"Still can't believe they make houses this big," Ruby says quietly.

"I know this is your home, Weiss, but we shouldn't stay any longer than we have to." Qrow is scanning the massive room as he walks and talks, looking for anything out of place.

"I understand. I'll be quick." Not much longer than it would take for her to change clothes. The blood stains on her shirt are stiff and brown and she's been fighting the grinding itch to rip it off her body for what feels like forever. "My room's on the second floor."

The three of them take the sprawling staircase together. As they walk among countless tapestries and portraits lining the long corridor Qrow makes an effort to constantly move around them, straying from any pattern or staying in one place for too long. If the assassin was somehow inside this house somewhere, he intended to be in their way.

When they reach Weiss' room, as much as he doesn't like the feeling of it, Qrow lets Ruby take point, his heart in his throat as she moves through the door. He's waiting for something to happen, but lets out a quiet breath when nothing does.

"Be quick." is all he says, remaining in the hallway.

Even in her own room Weiss can't find it in her to relax. This place had once been her sanctuary, now it's just another space to uncomfortably occupy. She observes the great bay windows on the far side of the room with wariness, refusing to linger on the gut wrenching anxiety too long. She starts in on her wardrobe, shoving the hangars aside with a clatter as she starts pulling shirts free from them.

"There's a backpack under my bed, would you mind getting it?"

"Yeah." Ruby nods once and moves to the bed, easily the biggest bed she's ever laid eyes on. She won't put her back completely to the windows as she kneels down, tossing up the edge of the blanket to have a look. "Found it."

"Can I just toss you a few things?"

"Sure you ca-," as she stands up Ruby gets a blouse to the face.

Weiss almost laughs. "Sorry."

Ruby giggles a little, mouth moving to say something as she pulls the garment away and reaches to put it in the bag. But she pauses, heat rushing up into her cheeks when she realizes that Weiss is shirtless. Ruby quickly looks away as she continues dressing down, shoving the blouse into the bag.

Weiss began the task of changing with hurry, but halfway through started to slow to a pace more casual, just as something seemed to buzz at the back of her mind. It's a feeling similar to the sensation of Ruby's presence, but not entirely the same. It's a presence she doesn't feel drawn to as she did to Ruby. As she buttons up a clean shirt and reaches for a coat in her wardrobe she processes it, tries to identify it without telegraphing any awareness of the change. As she pulls on a more casual pair of shoes she distinguishes just how close it feels to her, much closer than Ruby. Within arm's reach even, and it makes the small hairs on her neck bristle.

"Just a couple more things." she says in passing, moving into the bathroom and leaving the door open to be sure Ruby could keep an eye on her. She only stalls for a moment, catching notice of the copper smudges in her hair just behind her ear. It could wait. She snatches a small nylon travel bag from the counter and moves back into the bedroom. She tosses it to Ruby, hoping she'll catch it but not watching as she grabs a last few items from the wardrobe.

It's when Weiss has her back to it that she feels something odd, something that rubs her the wrong way and feels like fine grain sandpaper against her aura -deeper than even that. Her hands stop, hovering just over the open backpack. Ruby catches her eyes, thinking to stop herself but keeps moving when Weiss shakes her head, a gesture almost too small to see. Instead she continues putting clothes in the bag, albeit slower, her eyes now focusing on the way Weiss' left hand moves towards Myrtenaster.

"Weiss," she whispers, feeling her heart starting to hammer against her ribs.

She doesn't speak, the tips of her fingers starting around her sword's handle. This was going to be the quickest draw of her life. Or the last one.

One slow, even breath, her exhale cold and emerging as mist. Then she moves, everything else around her seeming to slow to a stop. Absolute zero.

It's over in a second, if even that. Weiss feels the cold whip of air moving around her face, her eyes focused on the tip of the weapon just before it appears to do little more than put a hole through her wall. But she feels the weight of something as it clutches around the blade.

Qrow shoves through the door at the sound, sword in hand. "The hell was that?!" And for a moment all he can do is stare.

Weiss's face is set in a firm grimace, her body locked in a perfect lunge position. When she retracts all eyes are on the end of the blade, flawless steel now glazed bright red. In the corner where the wardrobe meets the wall something solid ripples into view. The three of them feel the shudder of a depleted aura as a dark and humanoid silhouette forms and slumps to the floor, and while there had been no flash and flux of Dust from the weapon, all of them can clearly see the ice crystals springing up from the head-of-a-pin sized wound in the person's chest. Weiss hears their death rattle and that's when the horror sets in. It didn't seem to matter that they had a gun, a pistol in one hand and a rather cruel looking knife in the other or a long rifle strapped to their back. It didn't cross her mind that whoever they were had most likely hidden out in here for the sole purpose of killing her, likely was the one who shot Winter and orchestrated her father's death. She had just taken someone's life.

Qrow pushes between Weiss and the body, Ruby coming up behind her and pulling her back a couple of uneven steps. Weiss watches Qrow pull back a hood and scarf to reveal a man's face, initially looking like he was covered in tattoos that look like tiger stripes. Then she sees his eyes, amber and black slitted, and realizes they aren't tattoos at all. He was a faunus. Her body tightens up, hands curling into trembling fists.

"What the," having tipped back the man's head, Qrow finds an actual tattoo on the soft part where his neck and jaw met. It looks like a chess piece, the black queen to be specific. He looks back at Weiss. "How did you know he was there?"

"I," she almost can't speak, her thoughts fractured. "I...I f-felt him."

But now she feels nothing. Not even Ruby's warmth.

(II)

He knows she tries. Every day she tries. And he helps. He helps by sleeping at the foot of her bed, by following her around the house even into the bathroom when she brushes her teeth and her hair and when she showers -the last of which being because he likes hot baths. He helps by rubbing against her leg when she's trying to cook, and responding with little boofs when she talks to herself.

Zwei helps by tugging on the leg of Yang's pants when she's been on the couch too long, convincing her to take him for a walk whether rain or shine. He runs off with her shoes so she'll chase him to the point of being almost genuinely angry, anything to make her feel something other than distant. He sprawls across her chest when she sleeps and licks her face, making sure she wakes after sunup to help her maintain a pattern.

In the beginning all these things meant nothing. She rarely left her room, much less her bed, and seemed some form of content to just stare out the window and watch the seasons change. It hurt Zwei to feel like he couldn't do anything for her, couldn't do anything to make little sister stay, but it didn't stop him from trying. Zwei starts with little things, waking her up every morning with a couple of barks, pulling the blanket off the bed to drive the point home. He would bring her a hairbrush -he had to climb the toilet to reach it- nudging it against her hand until she picks it up. He shoves his metal bowl around the house when he is hungry, hoping against hope that Yang will feed him -going so far as to run away from Tai if he tries to do it. Eventually he is able to get her out of her room by yapping his head off as if he needed to go out, she was the only one home so she had no choice.

Some days weren't so easy, but Zwei is patient. Some days Yang is just too sad or too angry to do much more than sleep. Those days he let her have, though not without regularly trotting into the bedroom to look in on her or to bring her one of his toys in hopes of cheering her up. A gesture that she accepts in time. It isn't until near the end of the summer following the loss of her arm that Yang starts venturing outside. Zwei would walk her along the game trails around the house, sometimes taking her to town especially after one of her bad days, and always makes sure she is home again before or just after dark so Tai doesn't worry.

When Yang starts leaving the house -or tries to- alone, Zwei is more worried than happy. He knows big sister is big enough, but he still obeys the instinct to follow her. He doesn't like that she keeps going to the same place, a bar called the Skid Mark, almost as much as he doesn't like how it smells -smoke, vomit, and cheap beer. Still he stays near by, keeping watch from beneath Yang's chair, growling when anyone other than a server gets close. After several visits the bartender starts calling him ankle biter. Zwei does his best to convince Yang to leave before she has too much to drink, usually succeeding.

The more they visit the bar, the more Zwei begins to dislike one of the servers. He doesn't like the way she smells, the way she's too happy to give Yang any drink she asks for, and if dogs could swear he would do just that in regards to his certainty that the petite woman's eyes changed color when she blinked. He tries to tell big sister all about it, but for some reason she just couldn't understand plain Corgi. He tries to bite the waitress once, receiving a swat on the nose for it.

Yang likes the attention, it lets a little warmth settle in her chest while the heat of the alcohol settles in her head. She likes how the much smaller woman wordlessly offers her a dance every now and then, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her out of her seat, supporting her if her buzz makes her wobble a little. And she loves how she perches on her thigh -intentionally her left one- after she sits back down, a slender arm lining across Yang's shoulders as she leans into her. The server's skirt is just short enough to draw her gaze as well as her remaining hand. The feather light kisses on her temple send little shocks through her as her own lips are kept busy with drinks. Yang weighs the possibility of taking her home every time her head tips back to swallow a shot.

This is why she keeps coming back, not for the liquor but for the illusion of feeling normal, undamaged. Like there was finally someone who could look at her and not cringe or wither with pity. Here she didn't miss her sister or feel the bubbling fury of impotence and Blake's broken promise. Here everything is okay with this mute woman in her lap and the burn of whiskey in her mouth. So it's easy to ignore the cautionary growls and yips from under her chair.

Yang's heated haze fragments, eyes snapping open when she hears the door of the bar smack against the wall, thrown open by an overenthusiastic patron as he leaves. She just manages to hear the scramble of blunt little claws against floor before seeing Zwei bolt out of the opening with a single bark. She grumbles a little, the sound rough and gravelly at the back of her throat.

"Guess that's my cue," she slurs a little. "I better go, sweet cheeks."

The waitress silently pouts.

"Don't look at me like that." Yang sucks down one last shot. "How about you come with me? I'm gonna need help walking home...we could get lost in the woods together if you want. I can show you my favorite stump," her lilac eyes slant to the right, "okay, second favorite."

The server smiles, teeth flickering between pale, peach painted lips. One hand gathers a fistful of blond hair to pull on, tugging Yang into a deep, open mouth kiss. They part with a smile, the waitress tracing the line of her nose with one finger before sliding out of her lap. She gestures towards the bar, a sign Yang understood.

Yang chuckles, hiccuping. "Go ahead and grab your things, by the time you get back I might be standing."

She offers up one last smirk and a toss of her long hair behind her before disappearing behind the counter for a brief second. All she retrieves is a silk and lace parasol. She walks with it, one hand curled over the hooked handle, the metal tip clicking on the floorboards in time with her casual pace. Her eyes are fixed on Yang, smirking as the girl wobbles in an attempt to stand. Once she knows she's close enough, she lifts the parasol into her other hand, gripping the handle and giving it a tug. No one seems to notice the bright, silvery glint of the steel stiletto that emerges. That smirk stretches wider with every step, anxious anticipation for the split second it's going to take to put the weapon through her to the hilt. Just one. Quick. Twist.

Just as her arm drifts back, body tensing, a sharp spike of pain crackles up her other arm. Her head jerks in that direction, heterochromatic eyes zeroing in on Zwei now hanging from her wrist by his teeth. She raises the weapon with the intent to strike him, but freezes at the loud punctuations of buckshot striking the wall a little closer to her head than she likes. That's when the bar erupts with noise, patrons staggering away from their tables and out of the line of fire. Yang tries to gather herself but only manages to stumble over her own chair.

"Go ahead, give me a reason," Qrow dares, gun in hand, leveled with an itchy finger on the trigger.

Neo glares at the red eyed, poorly shaven hunter, brow knit tight enough to hurt with a mixture of pain and silent fury. Her eyes move from him to Ruby at his left and then to Weiss on his right. Her jaw tightens, frustrated at the sight of all the people she wanted to kill in the same room. As much as she wants to, now simply isn't the time or place. Her only choice is to disappear, which she does in a bright shimmer of platinum light, leaving only Zwei behind. The dog falls on his back, wriggling until he rights himself.

Ruby shoulders around her uncle and jumps over the toppled chair to reach her sister. Zwei quickly follows, scrambling around with a preamble of barks. Yang opens her eyes to see a spinning ceiling, blurred shapes spilling into view after a moment.

"Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

She blinks, pulling a sweaty hand down her face. "Ruby? What are you doing here? I thought you...had things to do."

"I know, and this is one of those things." Ruby smiles at her. "Come on, let's get you home."

"I want another drink."

"Not tonight, firecracker." Qrow steps over, holstering his weapon. "We've gotta talk."

"I don't want to talk. I want another drink." Yang repeats with a groan as she sits up, her stomach suddenly feeling too full.

"No, Yang, we need to-,"

"You need to fuck off."

Ruby pales, recoiling, stunned by the words and the severity of Yang's caustic scowl. Even Zwei backs away from her. Yang teeters to her knees, shoving Ruby in the chest, putting her little sister on her backside when she tries to help. "Should've just left it alone," she mutters just above a whisper, too slurred for the others to make out. Qrow reaches for his niece when she's close enough only to have his hand swatted away.

Weiss steps in front of her, arms crossed, back straight, face neutral. Yang stares back at her for a second or two, then steps aside. Weiss blocks her again. Yang steps the other way to a similar result, her expression darkening. "Move."

"Tell Ruby you're sorry."

"Move." A ring of red forms around the lavender in her eyes.

"No."

Yang bends at the waist, slowly closing the gap between them until they are nose to nose. "Why don't you do us a favor and just run back home to daddy?"

Weiss swallows the anger, refusing to let it to show. She reminds herself that Yang has been through a lot, just as much as herself, and has been shouldering a lot of pain all alone. True, that may very well have been Yang's choice, but not entirely. She takes a deep, stabilizing breath through her nose. "I'm not leaving, and I'm certainly not moving from this spot until you stop showing your ass."

One marigold brow spikes. "And I suppose you're gonna make me?"

"If you leave me no other choice...then yes. I will."

Yang snorts. "Punk-ass little princess," and grabs her upper arm.

"Oi, take it outside!" The bartender cries.

Yang turns her head to give the old man a dirty look, finding Ruby shoulder to shoulder with Weiss when she turns back. She's disgusted by the look on her face, that pained and pitying look Yang is so sick of seeing on everyone that ever looked her way. "Get out of my way."

"Yang," Weiss resists the initial urge to tear free from her grip, and instead smooths her hand over Yang's. "I wish I could change what happened, there's so much I would have done differently...but that's not why we're here."

"I don't care why you're here."

"Please, Yang," Ruby insists gently. She watches her sister's face, seeing a flicker of change when she puts one of her hands over Weiss' without even thinking.

"We're here because it's not over yet. What happened at Beacon was just the beginning of something else. Something bigger than us. Ruby and I...we need you."

Yang's lip trembles slightly, a tell almost too small to see. She shuts it down and covers it up with an awkward smirk. "Then take Zwei, at least he's in one piece."

"No, Yang." Weiss shakes her head. "Even though...Zwei is ten times cuter and less smelly than you," seriously, the odor of whiskey is threatening to make her sick, "you're my friend. You're the one I can trust with my life...because you are the best fighter I know."

A bitter chuckle rattles up. "Flattery doesn't get you where it used to with me, Weiss."

"Well I'm not going to kiss your ass, if that's what you're expecting." her face scrunches a little.

"I'm not asking you to, but...what do you expect me to say? What do you expect me to do?"

"Let me help, I don't care what I have to do, just let me do something!" Weiss almost begs, using her free hand to dig around her clothes and present her scroll. "I have the finest engineers in Atlas on speed dial, I can have a prosthetic ready in a week if necessary!" Whatever it takes for me to stop feeling so helpless. Whatever it takes for Ruby to stop crying.

For a long moment Yang just looks at her, maybe searching for something disingenuous in her face, maybe just trying to take all of this in. Either of which would be a hell of a lot easier to do if she was sober.

"And we think they're actively hunting us. This wasn't random." Ruby adds when the quiet drags on too long for her to stand. "Whoever brought down Beacon is targeting us now, they've already tried to kill Weiss and her sister, and that means Blake is in danger too."

Lavender eyes redden further as they settle on Ruby. "Where do I sign up?"

"You're going home first, missy." Qrow cuts in. "You're gonna dry up and then we're all gonna sit down with your dad and talk, alright?"

Yang laughs, a heated puff of air that actually sounds genuine. "That's a helluva thing coming from you, Uncle Qrow."

He tilts his head and inches his shoulders, conceding. "Just because I'm a functioning alcoholic doesn't mean I think you should be too."

Another little chuckle coupled with a nod. "I'm sorry, Ruby...I'm really happy to see you."

No words in response, just a sniffle as she throws herself at Yang, hanging on her neck and hugging as tightly as she can. Not wanting her to feel left out, Yang gestures with her hand for Weiss to join in.

It's been ten months since she last hugged them. The reality of the separation crashes down on her like a ton of bricks, the impact rippling through her as she tucks her head against Ruby's neck and lets herself cry.

(III)

A touch of Winter came early and gnaws its way through the forests of northern-most Vale, the cold slamming into the region with a freak blizzard the night before. The heavy blackness and rank and file of dormant trees are stark against the pristine snow that weighs down evergreen branches and clots root beds. No road cuts through this part of the forest, leaving the place with a remote sort of wildness about it, and all game trails are hidden.

Something waits in the higher boughs of a massive evergreen, more so someone, perched on the balls of her feet with hands curled around the branch for balance. Her fingers are red with the cold like her cheeks and nose, steady breaths curl outward in a mist with every near-silent exhale. Amber and black-slitted eyes scan the forest floor, wary of any movement as her feline ears move back and forth atop her head in search of sound. She blends in almost perfectly, a long white coat breaking up the outline of her black clothes, long black hair obscuring the shape of her face. If anyone were to see her they wouldn't know what they were looking at, certainly not quickly enough to react to her presence before she disappeared.

Blake has spent months in and out of wilds like these. In the beginning it was with the intent to disappear completely, a time to recover and collect herself, decipher what she was supposed to do after having so much ripped out from under her. And it was easy at first; make herself scarce, keep a distance from everyone and everything she cared about to keep them from harm. But as time went on things became steadily more complicated. Running away stopped being so simple somewhere along the way. So, after a turbulent period of self-examination, she decided running was no longer an option. Instead she would hunt, hone her skills to a fine edge, and find her way back to where the nightmare began and ended.

A path that finally brings her here, to this forest where rumors in the nearest town whispered of the White Fang. And not just them, but their leader.

Blake sees it before she hears anything, the slits of her eyes fluxing as a shock of red hair peeps over the snow like blood on a dove's breast. Slowly, carefully, she cranes her neck to watch the continued movement and her ears pick up on muffled footsteps. The muscles in her back steadily tighten as he comes into view, Adam Taurus and his sole attendant, another faunus with a long, gray and spotted tail swinging behind him. For a brief, tense moment she wonders what he's doing out here, but that is quickly overwhelmed by the fact that his reason doesn't matter.

Adam Taurus isn't a man who looks over his shoulder. He is always aware of his surroundings, aware of when they change, how they change, and in complete control. But today is different. Today he feels a distinct itch running through the small hairs on his neck. Initially he thinks nothing of it, performing his usual check of his environment with his ears and sniff of the air. Nothing has changed, nothing except the intensity of the buzzing in his skin. The first time he breaks his own rule he looks over his shoulder, not too quickly, and finds his attendant gone. The only thing left of him was the dark spaces of where his shoes had been. He feels a ripple of heat work through him, his heart rate spiking just a little, no higher than he would allow it. He continues on his path, one hand drifting to Wilt and Blush, one finger floating over the trigger.

Adam pauses again, looking for the second time when he picks up on the distinct impact of something heavy in the snow. He doesn't see what fell, only the clumps of snow tumbling from the higher branches after it, but he doesn't really have to see. He knows. Only a fool couldn't realize what was happening. His aura prickles along his body, ready, and he starts to move again.

"A fine day for a walk in the woods, my darling." he says aloud. "A fine day to kill you." he says to himself. "Remember the first time we walked in the forest together?"

Blake remains still in her hiding place, a tight shudder moving across the back of her mind. She bites her tongue against an anxious surge in her stomach, her eyes screwing shut and her ears taking responsibility for tracking his movements. The knuckles of one hand whiten around Gambol Shroud, the other clenching in the snow. Not because he seems to know she's here, it's because she will always remember. Though she would bet every last red Lien she has that her recollection of that night is nothing like his.

"It was beautiful. So were you." he continues, scanning through the trees. "I'm still willing to give that back to you, Blake. I've had time to think it over and have decided you're worth it. It's what you want, isn't? Otherwise, why would you be here?"

He's close to her now, her ears flicker at the static of his presence. The only thing separating them is a mound of snow and earth.

"It's not like you have anywhere else to go. The White Fang has been your only family. I am the one who really loves you."

Her stomach twists into a knot.

Then he growls "Not that bimbo gimp I let you run off with."

You're not going to fall for that, he's baiting you. You're better than that. And all the while the muscles in her jaw clench hard enough to make her molars creak. But she waits, she knows she has to wait. Wait until he's not so close...

Adam takes a collection of casual steps and then stops, half turning to look back the way he came. He knows she's here, knows the gossamer ripple of her aura as well as he knows his own. And he knows if he stands still long enough, it will convince Blake that she can actually ambush him, convince her she can kill him. That's when she'll show herself and he'll put her in her place like he always has.

"Come back to the Fang, Blake... come back to me. I'll stop hunting them, I promise."

But taking Adam Taurus at his word is like shaking hands with the devil himself. And Blake knows that. Just wait.

Adam waits...waits...maybe she lost her nerve after all...

He sees a blur of white in the corner of his eye, a flicker of movement that draws his gaze and his reaction. Wilt cuts the air almost too quick to see, striking the object. Cold spray swats his cheek. It was just a snowball. And it's a millisecond after his mind processes the absurdity of it that he feels a hard, pinpoint impact against his forehead forcing his neck to bend so sharply it hurts.

The mask falls away from his face, now split in two. Adam half stumbles, refusing to be knocked off his feet as his knees bend. Wilt flickers from the saya again, sweeping in a circle around him as he spots something out of place in his peripheral. His face twists into a snarl when the image ripples and fades -a shadow clone- blood from the small wound at his hairline pulling into the savage lines that form around his mouth. Manic, damning black irises cut over the snow and through the trees, finding nothing out of place. He forces his breathing to level out once his mind registers the thrumming of his heart.

Blake can't let him have the time he needs to regroup, not when she feels she has the upper hand. If he's able to focus then she won't have a chance in hell, her only option is to keep the pressure on him until he breaks. She will sacrifice two more clones before moving on him directly, and her first attempt draws more blood, a fresh red stripe on his arm. She nimbly moves from place to place, just keeping ahead of the fire star flicker of Wilt, only reaching out to strike him when there's no chance for him to parry. She won't allow his blade to make impact with even her own, wary of giving him any sort of advantage. Being so close takes away some his drawing power; he tries to release Wilt only to have the sword shoved back in its place with a well timed shove of her boot on his wrist. Keep moving, always moving, never stop, never make room for him to-

Adam works against her, spinning counterclockwise to her clockwise steps and smacking her soundly in the jaw with the back of his hand. But she follows through with the momentum, knees bending as she makes a complete circle, soles of her shoes loosely gripping the snow-slick ground. As she faces him again she pushes upward, leaving the ground in congress with an upward swipe of Gambol Shroud. His aura shimmers with the solid shrike, Adam wincing behind it. Blake tucks her legs under her, leaning back, leaving a shadow clone at the top of her jump and watching the afterimage of Wilt cut through it. She then extends both legs as hard as she can, landing her heels into the soft, giving flesh of his pelvis. Blake immediately scrambles to her feet after landing on her back, not bothering to watch him fly through the air and bounce off the top of a large stone concealed in the snow. In a blur of motion she jumps the same stone, but goes up into the trees.

Adam rolls head over heels a long way down an embankment, his head smacking on half exposed roots and rocks before he skids to a stop at the bottom. The dull ringing in his head is coupled with the sound of running water, a creek bubbling through this part of the forest. Adam spits, dirt in his mouth, and quickly finds his feet. More on instinct than intent he draws Blush, hearing the snap of branches over his head. He unleashes a wild volley of shots, eyes and barrel following falling clumps of disturbed snow. Evergreens shudder and break apart, the top of one exploding in a shower of slivers and splinters, ravens scattered from their nests.

Blake drops back to the forest floor, using the continuing shots to hide her footsteps as she backtracks several yards. She swallows hard as she breaks out from between the trees, sliding down the bank and breaking into a full sprint once she's on level ground again. She pushes herself as hard as she can, trying to take advantage of being -for the moment- in his blind spot. When Adam inevitably turns his head towards her, she grips Gambol Shroud's silk tether and sends the blade flying with a pull of the trigger. Adam is quick enough to tame Wilt and Blush to his side, just leaning back little more than an inch to allow the weapon to fly passed his face. His black eyes cut into her as he snatches the tether and gives a hard yank

Do everything he doesn't expect. The adage flutters through her mind and she bites her tongue, returning his gaze with a defiant one of her own as she forces herself to let go. Now she draws the heavier half of her weapon, tucking it behind her along the line of her arm. Her lips part into a ferocious snarl, the slits of her eyes paper thin, and she swings with every ounce of strength she can summon, aiming for his hands as they drift towards his sword.

Wilt and Blush spin through the air still joined, both faunus watching with a degree of shock. Adam ignores the crackling pain in his knuckles to reach for them. Blake spins around mid-stride and throws Gambol's heavy sheath into the air, colliding with the other weapon with a spark of light and casting them far out of their owners' reach. Blake hits the ground rolling, letting her momentum carry her through a backwards roll and onto her feet again. She settles in a low crouch, ready, cold-reddened fingers hooking like claws and ears flat against her head.

Adam glares at her, stupefied and furious. "Stupid bitch!"

She only responds with a loud hiss before launching herself at him.

Keep pushing, don't give him a chance to breathe, don't let him get his hands on you...

Blake's body ripples under the heavy volleys of his fists. Part of her mind is fixed on his timing and the impending collision of his knuckles, dictating the relaxation and retreat of muscle groups to absorb the brunt of the blow. Though some get through and sweet heavens above does she feel it. But she matches him, and what she lacks in brute strength she makes up for with more calculated strikes. She goes for the joints, wrenching clawed fingertips into the ball-and-socket of his shoulders, kicking at his knees, and threatening swipes at his soft throat. He overextends on a punch and she bites deep into the meat of his forearm, groaning against his sleeve when his knee crashes into her stomach.

She feels him snatch a handful of her duster in his fist, predicting the forceful pull to follow. She bends at the waist and straightens her arms, letting him tear it from her shoulders without throwing her off her feet. What she didn't count on was his using his other hand to grab one of her feline ears. Adam twists hard at the waist and throws her towards the creek, a hoarse shout clawing out of her throat as pain crackles through her scalp with a pop of skin separating. Thick liquid warmth blossoms over the top of her head.

Blake's palms brace her fall, keeping her from landing head-first into the creek and its rocky bottom. Without a second thought she tucks her body up, knees to her chest, and rolls forward with a spring from her hands, finding solid footing upon landing in spite of the shocking cold of the running water that reaches half way up her shins. She finds her center just in time to brace for the collision of Adam's entire body against her, all of his weight pushing as his hands anchor to her belt and to the hair at the back of her neck. She tenses when he shifts his stance, twisting at the waist and shoving his hip into her stomach to throw her into the water. Before he can move over her she desperately lashes out with one leg to connect to the tip of her boot with his temple.

Adam staggers back, almost falling, unstable enough for Blake to have the time she needs to get above water. Her body is tight with cold, droplets rolling down her now bright red face, her jaw hanging as she gasps for air. Her thoughts are quick to coalesce together again as she watches him try to recover, determined to make one last push. She rolls one wrist, a stretch of silk starting to unwind as she forces herself to make the two long strides to get close enough to grab him. Blake almost falls on him, half off-balance as her plows her fist into his face three times, each blow solid. Then she she jerks him by the collar, putting him on his back.

Blake was quicker, always had been, and she was sure to make him see it now. Make him see that he couldn't hold her back, make him see that she wasn't afraid of him anymore. She follows through where he had fumbled before, managing all of her weight on top of him in a quick blur of motion, her knees settling on his chest. Quickly she takes the loose end of the ribbon in her off hand and weaves it between her fingers. It's just long enough. Adam tries to rise against her, raising his head, the movement she was hoping for. Blake works the ribbon behind his head, pulling upward briefly until she can cross her arms, crossing the fabric over his throat. Then she pushes downward. His head smacks to the creek bed, the ribbon wedging beneath his jaw and almost cutting into his skin. His body bucks against hers but she's perched too high on his chest for it to matter.

Every thread of her being demands she holds on. Keep pushing. Her heart hammers behind her ribs and her body shivers from both the flood of adrenaline in her blood and the cold soaking into her skin. She blinks at the water splashing up into her face from the eruption of bubbles. She ignores the bite of Adam's fingers clawing at her arms, barely flinches when he manages to land two hard blows to her face, blood spilling out of her nose. Her fingers are starting to hurt, but she won't let go this time, not until the flashback stops. Not until she can forget how he had done this to her with his bare hands after she had dared to tell him no to his face. Not until the bubbles cease.

It takes less than a minute.

Blake can't feel the cold anymore when his hands fall into the water, limp. Finally she lets her hands relax, ignoring the dark red marks around them as the silk unwinds. Her chest heaves to pull in oxygen though her lungs are burning. Without a thought she pushes her forearm under her nose, almost startled by the bright crimson smear she finds. A puff of air escapes with a strange lilt resembling laughter, then again, but that dissolves into a choked sob when her eyes fall to Adam's face, his image distorted by the water's flow.

She forces herself to stand up, almost falling as her heels slip on the slick rocks of the creek bed. She hurries onto dry land to fetch her coat, the cold starting to settle in as the adrenaline tapers off. Then she searches for Gambol Shroud, finding its parts and joining them to rest on her back once more. All the while she feels the tears burning in her eyes, scorching her cheeks without her permission. Perhaps a part of her was in mourning for him. After all, they had been friends once. She had, at one time, been convinced they loved one another. But looking back on that now -which she couldn't help but do though she's loathe to- they had been many things. In love had not been one of them.

Blake runs, disappearing into the forest once again.

Author's Note: The fight scenes in this one are easily some of the best I feel I've written. I haven't written with this much potency since "Feral", at least that's what it feels like. Next chapter, depending on how it pans out, we'll find out what the remnants of team JNPR are up to and some plot stuff to go along with them. Also, Blake still has a fight ahead of her, so hold on to your butts.