A/N: Hello again! So… it happened! Weiss/Reader is now a thing! Thank you all so much for the outpouring of reviews and support I got on the last chapter. I tried to respond to every single review, unless you reviewed as a guest… in which case, thank you so much for your words! I love to hear what you all think.
I'll shut up now. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Your moment with Weiss is short-lived. As much as you'd love to stay there and gaze into those big seas of ice, a familiar voice calls to you from the radio. It's unusual that it's coming to your personal team frequency instead of to Weiss's command frequency.
"RWBY, this is Goodwitch. I need you on that convoy. Qrow and the other group of vehicles is pinned down about a klick from your position." She's probably circling the area in one of the orbiting helicopters, but you can't know for sure.
"Ma'am, RWBY 1. You want us to un-pin them?" Ruby calls back this time, instead of Weiss.
"Precisely. Get there fast, but don't take any unnecessary risks. Is your team still fit to fight?"
"Affirmative. We'll punch through to Qrow." Ruby vaults over the counter where she had been taking cover, and jogs outside to the convoy.
You glance back at Weiss, who shoots you a smile and reaches forward to put a hand on your shoulder with a squeeze. You follow Ruby, wrapping Yang's SAW in your arms to make it easier to carry. When you get outside… you see the remnants of the battle you've been fighting. Torched asphalt and scorched earth. Bullet holes and chunks taken out of the cinder blocks all around the building. The black grenade that never went off. A neon sign reading 'open' flashes on and off.
"Spread out amongst the vehicles. Weiss, I want you up front with the convoy leader. Everyone else, fit in where you can."
You all give her a silent nod of approval and spread out to your respective vehicles. Whether by random pick or instinct, you pick the third one in the column, directly behind Weiss. It's a standard up-armored Humvee, painted in Mistral colors with a large yellow sun on the side, like the way some Huntsmen and Huntresses paint a black spade on the side of their vehicles. Looking at it… every vehicle in the column has a different emblem painted on it.
Before you even get to the vehicle, the door gets pushed open by a blue-haired Mistrali soldier on the inside. You clamber in, resting Yang's SAW between your legs for now. The soldier beside you gives you a nod when you climb in, his hair slicked back and held in place by goggles placed high on his forehead.
The inside is scattered with spent brass casings that rustle and clink together as you slide into the hard, metal seat. When you close your door… you see a spattering of blood on the door and window. It's dark and sludgy—veinous blood. The owner of the wound could still be alive.
"Need anything?" The Mistrali who opened the door for you asks the question, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
"I'll take any ammo you can spare. Any of your boys need medical attention?"
He shakes his head, and mechanically reaches back to pull an ammo can from the rear of the Humvee. "We have two wounded, but last time I checked, they're stable back in one of the MRAPs." He pauses. "We had to go through hell to get here. Can't imagine what you've just been through."
The truck starts to move, and the gunner on top starts firing again. Heavy, loud .50 caliber shots shake the whole truck, and some of the rounds thud through his turret into the body of the vehicle. One in particular lands on your bare forearm. It's hot. Scorching. You quickly shake it off, and hear the Mistrali beside you chuckle.
"I guess you found the one downside to having rolled sleeves."
You force a smile, as much as you can. You run a gloved finger over the reddened skin. "Suppose I did."
You stop and catch your breath for a moment,watching the setting sun fade below the horizon and cast a haunting orange glow over the buildings and landscaping going by. However, shortly after, you tap the gunner's leg, calling up to him. "Soldier! Take a break. I'll take the gun from you."
"You got it!" The gunner starts to climb down out of his saddle, and that's when you notice his monkey tail. Blonde hair. A nametape that reads 'Wukong.'
"The huntsman is letting you off of the hook, Sun." The blue-haired soldier punches Sun's shoulder as you get into the turret.
"Neptune… I thought I told you to be cool."
"Dude… I am cool."
As much as you'd love to listen to their banter, you've got a job to do, and that is protecting the Humvee and punching through to Qrow. Rounds come in, one after the other, and bounce off of the blacktop of the road or the metal of the Humvee around you.
Being a gunner in a vehicle… it's a feeling unlike any other. On one hand you are vulnerable. Voluntarily putting yourself up on top of this pile of metal that already attracts bullets like a magnet. You paint a bullseye on your back that every single Grimm out there would love to hit—multiple times. However, on the other hand, you possess the single most powerful weapon on the battlefield, whether that be the 50 you're on now, the Mk. 19 (colloquially known as "the Mark"), or the much faster firing 'up-guns.' You can reach out farther, punch through thicker walls, and inflict more lethal injuries on anyone who stands in your path.
Consequently, it makes you feel alive. The wind hitting your face and sweeping your hair back. Every time you depress the thumb trigger, the Humvee shakes and the concussion of the round going out hits you firmly in the chest. An apartment complex passes by on the left, with a park on the right. Half of the sky is hidden by a canopy of thick, deciduous trees. That's why you only hear the beating of rotors against the air. You only hear the sound of the rocket.
Then, everything erupts.
The rocket comes straight in and explodes behind the Humvee just in front of you. It gets thrown onto its side, and despite your drivers efforts, your tires lock up and you skid into the wreckage in front of you as dust slams into your face, both from the explosion and from some kind of attack helicopter flying over. You blink rapidly, trying to get a glimpse of it before it flies away, but it's tough with the dimming sky. All you get is the silhouette… which makes your blood run cold.
Nevermore.
You're thrown forward as the Humvee beside you crunches into the rear of yours. While there's not much physical damage to either truck… the force of getting tossed against the edge of the turret knocks the wind out of you.
You suck in a gasp, trying to catch your breath again. No rounds are coming in at you, for the moment. But that helicopter is still out there. You look around, trying to get a read on the situation. The other two vehicles in the back of the convoy didn't crash together, but you're all still in a single file line. Perfect targets for a gun run if that Nevermore comes back.
"Ruby!" You call over your personal radio frequency. "You have to get spread out before that Nevermore's next pass."
Ruby's voice quickly cuts back at you, but you hear hurried voices and shouts in the background. "We know, Switch. We're getting there."
However, as you open your mouth to reply, Yang's voice comes over the radio. "Hey, can you see Weiss? That rocket was too close for comfort."
Weiss. You spin around from looking towards the two vehicles at the rear of the convoy to the smoking heap in front of you. You clamber at the walls of the turret, trying to get a glimpse into one of the windows of the overturned vehicle. The gunner was thrown outward, laying on the ground to your left. But there's no movement within the Humvee. Just… masses slumped against the roof and doors. As you squint through the white smoke, there's a mess of white hair and fair skin that's dotted with dark, clotted blood. That can't be her.
Your attention is wrenched away by the dreaded noise of rotors again. But this time… you're ready. You swing the barrel of the long and awkward 50 cal around, and depress the thumb trigger. Again, the whole vehicle shakes and you tighten your grip on the wooden handles of the gun. There's no telling if your gun is actually going to do anything to the armor of the Nevermore… but there are weak spots. Places where bullets might get through and bring it down.
All of the other vehicles have the same idea… each one opening up on the helicopter. Even at this distance, you can see sparks from bullets bouncing off of its armor.
Flashes of light like shooting stars streak across the sky—tracers from each vehicle's gun. Yours are landing low… you slowly raise the gun, walking the bullets up until they're landing against the top of the main rotor.
Even with the sun behind the horizon and the tracers, you see the flash of fire as one bullet finds its way through… and white smoke starts to pour out of the top.
Relief blended with malice washes over you when you see the helicopter drop, then bank and turn away. It's not going down… but you doubt it'll be back. You hope it doesn't come back.
As you rest back into the gunner's saddle, your heartrate begins to calm down as the adrenaline fades. You release your grip on the machine gun and start to clamber back down into the Humvee itself.
You have to get to Weiss. It's… not because you have feelings for her. Not because you just shared a kiss that confirms she feels the same way. She's still your teammate, and you're the only one with the medical training to help both her and everyone else in that Humvee.
At least, you're trying to convince yourself of that.
"Dude. You know you're shaking, right?" It's Neptune. The guy with the blue hair.
Your reply is stern. Commanding. You grabs Yang's SAW as you nudge him aside. "Out of my way."
Both Sun and Neptune give you concerned looks as they move out of the way. You punch the door open, and run over to the door that Weiss is slumped against.
Being out of the vehicle gives you a different perspective from when you were up in the turret. That park off on the right is a lot bigger, and the trees are a lot taller. Plenty of places for Grimm to take cover. Even as the sky fades from a dark orange twilight to black, the full moon reveals everything clearly and casts shadows on the pavement. That apartment complex on the other side of the road, however, is a lot smaller than you first thought… but it seems empty. Untouched by the battle. Bikes are still locked up on racks, cars parked in small, numbered spaces.
Your attention returns to the overturned truck. Your hands—they're still shaking—pull at the door mechanism, clumsily ripping it open as you drag Weiss out.
Her eyes are closed, and the blood that you saw is still there, streaking down her face and staining her hair. The tie that normally holds her hair up is nowhere to be found… it's all just a mess of dirty white locks that in any other setting would be beautiful.
Focus.
Fumble for a pulse around her neck, pressing deep and searching for that rhythm against your fingertips. There's none. Try the other side. It's not there either…
"Weiss?"
Snatch her wrist and press your fingers against the vein there. You still can't find anything.
You sit backwards, eyeing her motionless form. Your jaw clenches, and you know that your hands are still shaking. She'd be the one tell you that… but she's gone. No pulse. There's nothing you can do for her.
She wouldn't just…. Die like this…A faint groan of pain reverberates in your ears. It's not Weiss… but it's the driver of her Humvee. You take your trauma bag off, and stand. You pull his door open and gingerly start to untangle him from the mess of wires and straps that his legs are caught in.
"Easy, buddy. I'm getting you out." You pull a knife from your belt and cut at the straps and wires. One sparks at you, but it doesn't jolt you at all. "What hurts?"
He bites his lip. "Hard to breathe… Arm's broken…"
You nod, seeing how his right arm is clutched against his body. His hand is mangled, too, but none of the injuries he mentioned are life-threatening, unless the difficulty breathing is linked to a collapsed lung. You'll cross that bridge when you get there.
"Alright. I'm gonna pull you out. Just take it easy." You support his weight and work him out of the straps and wires. He tries to come to a knee, and you put his good arm around your shoulders to help him stand. You track his breathing, trying to get a read on why he told you it's hard to breathe, but you don't sense anything out of the ordinary. It's likely that he hit the steering wheel when the rocket came in. You open the door to your own truck, and ease him in.
"You stay here. Nothing too strenuous, and don't aggravate that arm. I'll be back."
He eases back in the seat, closing his eyes with a grimace. "Thanks, doc…"
You turn around, heading back over to the truck but spying the gunner who was thrown out. Instead, you jog over to him and roll him on his back, letting out a sigh of relief when you see that he's breathing. He's still in bad shape. You need a litter, or a stretcher. Blake's the one who has it.
"Blake! I need a litter!" You yell over your shoulder, not realizing that she and the rest of the team are already out of the truck, running over to help you.
"Y/N…" A soft, pained voice hits your ears. It's one that you recognize, even as Blake slides to her knees beside you.
You glance at Blake, then at Ruby who suddenly appears at your side as well. You point to the gunner, and tell them both, "Help him. Get him into one of the trucks."
Where did that voice come from? Weiss?Can't be. You couldn't feel her pulse. But that was her voice.
In seconds, you're by her side again. And that's when you see those ice-blue eyes open again. You're hit with disbelief, even when you snake an arm under her to help her sit up.
"I… I thought you were dead…" You brush her hair out of the way as you look for spots of blood anywhere besides her face.
She just sits there, forcing each inhale and leaning into you.
No new blood. No new holes. "Weiss, you didn't have a pulse…"
Weiss looks down at your hands, which are admittedly shaking again. "You have gloves on, you dolt…" She closes her eyes again and brushes a lock out of her face.
She's right. You do have gloves on. Too thick to be able to find a pulse in the first place.
"Alright. Help me up. I'm good to fight…" She rolls to her side and regains a knee, standing up slowly.
Holding Weiss's hand, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, seeing her smile again… it makes you realize that a few minutes ago, you thought that you'd never get to see that smile again.
After helping Weiss up, you see Blake and Ruby carrying the wounded gunner towards the cluster of apartments. Odd… You catch up to Yang who is following them in.
"Yang, what's going on?"
She shakes her head. "We're going to establish a casualty collection point in the apartment. We've got too many wounded to get to Qrow and make any sort of difference, especially with the night setting in." She sighs. "As much as I'd like to take the fight to the Grimm right now, we need a good defensive strongpoint."
Silently, you nod. You agree—the damaged Humvees and shot up soldiers are in no shape to fight to Qrow's convoy. Hopefully, Qrow can dig in and do the same.
…
You're sitting in a lovely, two-bedroom suite, with your back against a wall. Your sight is trained out of a perfectly clean sliding glass door, scanning the park as if Grimm are already there, and you just have to spot them. It's a quaint little spot. The apartment has a very open layout, with two Mistrali soldiers laying on the microfiber couches in an attempt to get at least a few minutes of sleep while you've got down time. There's no gunfire or explosions that you can hear, and the lack of radio traffic is comforting. Weiss has already checked in with Qrow and Goodwitch. The wounded from the Nevermore attack have been stabilized, and you were able to pop Yang's shoulder back into place. Despite the fact that putting weight on it is painful, Yang insisted to have her SAW back.
"Hey."
You look up to find Weiss sitting down beside you.
"I thought Ruby told you to grab some sleep," you reply, remembering how Ruby wanted Blake, Yang, and Weiss to rest and rearm while you and her stayed on guard. It was a bit of a throwback to basic training with 'tent guard duty,'but at this point, everybody needs a bit of a break.
"You try sleeping in a warzone. Besides, I think we need to talk, without the team breathing down our backs."
You nod, expecting that to come at some point. "I'd be lying if I said I disagree… You start, or me?"
Weiss sets Myrtenaster down across her lap, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose and blink hard. "Well, to begin… I know you remember how I told you how I never understood how Blake and Yang did it. I told you how I'd never go on a mission with someone I care this much about. And I said that your head gets unclear, and you make irrational decisions when you're thrown into combat with someone you share that kind of connection with."
You comb through the files in your head, remembering when Weiss told you that. It was right after Homestead, when Ruby got hit. "Yeah. I remember that…" Your voice trails off. Weiss had implied that she'd never want to have a romantic relationship with someone she fought with.
"Obviously, I'm on a mission right now with someone I care that much about." Weiss's gloved hand finds your own, and you lace your fingers with hers. Instinctively. She pauses, looking down at her boots. "Y/N, if we're going to work this out, I need you to promise me something."
You don't reply. You only give her hand a gentle squeeze, trying to read the expression on her face. She's still looking at her boots, shoulders hunched down with a frown.
Suddenly, she turns to look at you, gazes locking with her letting out a long sigh. "Promise me that you'll put the mission first. You won't let personal feelings get in the way. This…" She purses her lips, looking away for a moment to find the words, seemingly forcing them out before she does. "… relationship won't effect your actions when we're on the battlefield. It's hard enough watching someone I have feelings for get shot at because he's a soldier like me. I don't need you putting yourself even farther into harm's way just for me."
Can… can you promise her that? Can you promise that if she's bleeding out, the light about to fade from the depths of her seas of ice, that you'll put the mission first?
You'd kill for her. You'd even die for her, just like you'd do for the rest of the team. But… would you let her die for the mission? For Atlas or Vale or Mistral or Vacuo?
Would you let her die for you?"I… Weiss, that's… that's a tall order…" Stumbling over your own words. Trying to force them out. You look down at the rifle laid across your lap, biting your tongue but trying to find at least a thread of a sentence to tell her what's going through your mind. You can't look into those eyes and tell her that you can't promise that.
Weiss straightens up. "I know. But we can't let this get in the way of who we are. I'm a huntress. I kill Grimm to protect innocents. If people die because of us…"
You shake your head. "Weiss, I can't promise that I won't run into fire for you." A sigh. "I can't promise anything…"
She closes her eyes, releasing your hand even though you want to squeeze it tight and keep it here. "Switch, if—"
You interrupt her, finding words becoming clear all of a sudden. "Weiss, let me tell you this. Please." You grit your teeth for a moment, then lower your voice to a whisper. "If… if it comes down to it, and we have to choose… I'd rather me than you. Any day. I'll take that bullet."
Her eyes open suddenly, grabbing a handful of your shirt. "Absolutely not, Y/N."
"It's… it's how I feel, Weiss…"
She turns away, releasing you. "If it has to be like that… I can't stop you." She closes her eyes again, turning away from you.
You shift over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders but unsure of what to say.
She sighs, then leans into you and lowers her voice, speaking with a renewed, calculated precision. "I will never let it come to that, Switch." A pause, her tone wavering as she starts to get choked up. "And you promise me that you won't just throw your life away like that. You'll fight like you always have, right?"
"I will, Weiss. I… I can promise you that."
She nods, lifting her rifle off of her lap so she can shift closer to you, and you readily pull her in. "One more thing? It's… not new, but… I want to tell you again."
You cock your head, but start to smile. "What's that?"
She looks up at you, smiling back at you when she sees your smile. "This doesn't change a thing about what I told you after your first mission. I'm always here, whenever you need a shoulder to cry, lean, or bleed on. Hopefully the third one as little as possible, but… I'm here when you need me."
You nod, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Likewise, Snow Angel."
