Holy crap, I'm so sorry, guys. It's been more than 3 weeks that I've kept you waiting, and for that I'm sorry. I literally made headway on this thing, word at a time. More of a slog than actually writing.
Eternal thanks to those of you who keep commenting and keep patiently waiting for these chapters. Also, super special thanks to Flagbearer for her continued support and editing skills.
Two drinks down. Empty pint glasses sitting in front of you. Rupert's been keeping his distance, only approaching the team to give you fresh, full glasses.
Weiss still isn't through her first. Well, not completely. There's still an inch of now-warm amber liquid at the bottom of her glass, seated on top of a drying ring of condensation on the smooth wood of the bar top.
Blake and Ruby are about at the same point that Weiss is. But they're not drinking for celebration or for any reason in particular, and neither are you. You're drinking because it's something cold in front of you.
"Hey… we should probably get going." Weiss is leaning over and glancing at the clock on the wall behind the counter. The clock's black background and white markings remind you of the altimeters used in aircraft. However, the dying light outside isn't enough to convince you that three hours have passed.
Ruby trails her finger around the rim of the glass, then shakes her head in response to Weiss's suggestion. "I… I already called my dad. He's gonna meet me tonight. I have to tell him in person."
You nod. It's only the first day since you told them. Makes sense…
"Do you need a ride there?" Weiss follows up moments later, sitting up in her chair at the same time and waving a hand for Rupert to come back.
"No… I've been texting back and forth. He'll be on base in about a half hour." Whether or not Ruby knows that her breaths are coming faster in preparation for what she has to do is a different story.
It's a feeling that you know all too well.
"Hey, Weiss…" Blake pushes her glass forward and reaches back to pull a bundle of lien out of one of her pockets. "Do… you think you could drop me off somewhere else before heading back to the hangar?"
Weiss cocks her head. "Sure… if you're positive you'll be alright."
Blake reaches up and pulls the bow out of her hair and sets it on the countertop, letting out a breath as if it suddenly relaxes her. "I will… Yang and I… we had an apartment in Vale. Something we'd get away to whenever we needed." She reaches up and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm gonna stay there tonight."
Rupert comes over and stands in front of Blake, pushing the lien back towards her. The wave of his hand tells you all you need to hear. On the house.
"You call me if you need anything, okay?" Weiss's eyes glance between Blake's own and her Faunus ears.
"I will. Thanks, Weiss…" Blake stands, brushing a strand of hair out of her face before pausing for a moment and looking at her bow with pursed lips and drooped ears. She collects it with her hand and just shoves it into a pocket. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah, but… same goes for you, Ruby." Weiss turns her head to lock gazes with her team leader, strands of hair beginning to fall out of the tie and dangle across her face. "You pick up your phone and call me. I don't care how little it is."
Weiss's sudden commanding tone strikes you with an odd dissonance of stress and concern. You know that Blake and Ruby are still reeling, but other than the toast, she hasn't shown whatever grief or guilt or regret lies underneath that plastic smile. Well, it's not much of a smile, but still. You can see the bags under her eyes and the tangles in her hair. The expanded, toned shoulders that she had going into Afterburner have diminished, evident by how much lower the white cammie sits on her traps. So… what else is going on in that head of hers?
What else is going on in yours?
"Promise I will. Just take care of yourself, too." Ruby glances up at the clock again, and lets out a sigh.
"Don't worry, Ruby. I've got Y/N to take care of me. We're all in this together."
You bury your face in your hands. It's a passing comment, trying to deflect Ruby's response with a bit of humor, but… it strikes a dissonance with you. Since that's what you told Yang.
You stay with me, okay? We're gonna get out of this together.
Yang. Yang. C'mon. You can't break. Get up. Yang. We're in this together. Yang!
Weiss says something else that you don't quite catch. You can't quite shake the feeling that you did this to the team. You delivered the news. You got shot down with Yang. You're the reason she's dead.
A hand on your shoulder. Slightly cool to the touch and somewhat foreign, even though you follow it up to find Weiss at the other end. She mouths words that may have sound to them, but you can't tell.
Her brow furrows and her eyes narrow, Her grip on your shoulder tightens, and now you can hear the words this time. "Good to go?"
You blink, hard, and nod. "Yeah. Let's go."
…
Back at the hangar. Only a handful of lights on that makes the tables, weapon racks, and bunks look more like shapes and shadows than your team quarters.
You're sitting on the edge of your bed with the hangar doors wide open, as Weiss stands over by the weapon rack and workbench. The workbench itself—if you can even call it that—is simple. Four posts of wooden 4"x4" boards, and two levels of particle board to serve as the work area and a shelf for tools, lube, and parts.
For some reason, the thought of that bench is… Frustrating, actually. It's a fucking workbench. Where you cleaned and worked on your weapons for hours before a mission. So did Yang, since before you joined the team. Still, all that prep and care, and it did nothing for you. Yang is still dead. So what's it matter that you keep cleaning your weapons and gear? What's the point of that little wooden structure?
"You know, I still haven't been able to ask you how you are." Weiss turns around, and leans backwards against the makeshift furnishing. Grease stains her hands and part of her clothing, but that's probably the last thing on her mind. Despite the fact that she's standing on the completely opposite end of the hangar, you can still hear her clearly. Everything—even the airfield—is oddly quiet. The slightly hoarse rasp on the tail end of her sentences reminds you of what she might be bottling up. "Are you okay?"
She… she's got enough on her plate. You really don't need to add to it. "I'm fine."
Weiss cocks her head, eyes running over your form quickly. Taking stock of you just like she's been doing for the whole night. "You can't lie to me anymore, you know that? What's wrong?"
You shake your head, and let just the tip of the iceberg rear its head. "No. I'm really not okay. Weiss, I just got rescued from months of torture and captivity, during which my teammate—our teammate—died in front of me…" You purse your lips, and start to raise your voice to where it bounces off of the walls of the hangar and echoes. "…And half the team blames me for it."
Weiss's voice is low. Soft. Retracting inward after you raised yours. "Switch…. It's not like that."
"Well, it should be. My head was on the chopping block. Not Yang's." Anger that mirrors what used to flare in Yang erupts in your mind.
You stand up, taking a handful of steps to close the distance between you and her. "And don't you fucking tell me that a small part of you doesn't blame me for the fact that she's—"
Weiss steps up to you and grabs your collar. "Shut up!" She squeezes her eyelids shut, and the low light in the hangar isn't enough to conceal the twinkle of water welling up at the corner of her eyes. "You blame yourself? I have slept less than 12 hours in the past week because I have been worrying about you and her. Racking every intel network and pulling in every favor that was physically possible. We have been on half a dozen compound raids where you might've been kept, and came up empty at every. Single. One."
She pushes away from you, but your gaze remains locked with hers when she opens her eyes again. "Kicking down doors with every bit of hope that this time..."
Her voice rises and cracks, forcing her to look away even though every fiber of your being is willing her just to look back at you. Tears start to well up at the corners of her eyes as she continues. "… you'd be there. That intel wasn't wrong. And worrying that when I found you…" She purses her lips, her fingers curled into tight fists. "… it would just be a body."
"Don't blame yourself…" Your tone comes out a lot harsher than you want it to. This girl has been through so much, with her teammates all leaning on her, and still she blames it on herself. Like you do.
She spins around, slamming her fists into the wood of the workbench. "The worst part? We were too late. No matter how hard I worked, I couldn't find you and Yang fast enough. When I did find you… and Yang wasn't there, I knew what had happened. I think we all did, even before you told us. And the guilt…" Another shake of her head, one hand coming up to wipe at her cheeks. "You don't know how I feel, Switch. Two teammates leaning on me, yet not wanting to be around at the same time."
She abruptly stops, the sudden silence sending you reeling from her confession.
"You… think I don't know how you feel, don't you?" You take a few steps over to your bed, taking a seat on the sheets which feel distinctly… foreign and comforting at the same time. Like riding a childhood bicycle that's not quite your size. "I think you feel alone, Weiss. And I know all about feeling alone."
You pause, and let out a breath, tension returning to your chest and quickening your heartbeat. "That was one of the worst parts about it all. After Yang was gone, every time they threw me back into the cell that Blake found me in, I was alone again. I didn't know if you were coming. It's… this terrible feeling. One that I think you're feeling right now, even though I'm right here."
The silence that ensues is deafening. One that you're actually the first one to break. "Am… am I right?"
Weiss turns her head, the glistening and defeated seas of blue just catching your own. She nods.
"Then c'mere…" You stand, closing the distance to her with your arms open. Weiss closes her eyes and returns the gesture, tiredly nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Her slightly shorter stature forms into yours as her arms trace up your back.
"How did you get through it?"
You remember the time spent in the cell, waiting. Getting through each 'session' with Neo and avoiding Cinder's questions to the best of your ability. "I.. went to my happy place. Took it moment by moment. I, uh… thought about you a lot…"
She squeezes you. Hard. "Hey… Switch?" Weiss's breathing is shaky. Not heaving, but… not steady at all. You can feel it against your chest.
"Yeah?"
"You… said… that you felt alone during it all, and… I just don't want you to feel alone anymore. I don't wanna feel alone anymore." The hand on your back gently draws circles with the pad of her finger, an oddly soothing sensation that's relieving some of the bound up tension in those muscles, but… you still can't seem to shake how bound up your chest is.
You're not sure… but you can physically feel her relax in your arms, too. "Sweetheart, you're not—"
She cuts in, squeezing you in the process. "What I'm trying to ask is if you'll sleep with me tonight."
For a moment, you tense even harder. The tightness in your chest still hasn't faded. "Weiss…"
You feel her hand trace around your form, circling from your back to your chest and resting on your heart. She presses on it, ever so gently, squeezing you even more when she feels it. "It's a yes or no question. I'm not asking for your company in anything more than sleep."
"You know I'm probably going to have nightmares and not sleep very well at all…" Her scent is flowery, something you notice only now that she's gotten so close. You remember waking up to it after the stab wound back in Atlas.
"I don't care." Her response is quick. As if she was expecting you to say that. She pauses, letting the sound of a jet taking off rumble through the hangar. Everything else is quiet. Dead silence. Enough that you can feel your own heartbeat against Weiss's hand. "You don't get to be alone anymore. Not while I'm here."
Honestly? It's… it's a wonderful thought. One that you're happy to oblige. "Okay, Weiss."
After a few moments of just staying like that with her, she pulls out of your arms, takes your hands, and leads you over to her bed. She sits on the edge, looking up at you with wide blue eyes, waiting.
A thought goes through your head, wondering… if she'd be okay with something. You lock gazes with her, and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, pulling it upwards slowly so that she can stop you.
But she doesn't. She sits there, even gives you a gentle nod… you pull it the rest of the way off, revealing your atrophied physique and small scars from the needle criss-crossing your chest and back. Little white splotches in all the wrong places.
Weiss's eyes widen and her hand comes up to her mouth in surprise. Your gut drops, and you can't look at her like that. Not with how months of torture has impacted your body. You turn your head and shut your eyes when Weiss stands up again, and gently places her hand against a group of them on your shoulder. You tense, sucking in part of a breath as her finger trails against them, drawing imaginary lines for a moment. She cups your jaw, forcing you to look at her again.
You open your eyes, waiting for the look of disgust or lack of attraction in her glossy blue eyes. But it's not there. Only understanding and comfort. One solemn look that whispers in hushed, gentle tones. It's okay. I don't mind.
And just like that… her hands follow the scars around to your back, and you feel a gentle pressure pulling you two together, warmth and softness against your bare chest. She's pulling you back into bed with her…
She nudges you down, the covers already rolled back and still radiating with a bit of her warmth from where she sat down. You sink onto it, grateful for Weiss's taste in softer flannel sheets. She sits on the edge again, running her hand up and down your back as you settle in.
But… then she turns away, again. Looking off into the kitchen part of the hangar and leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. You cock an eyebrow, concerned, and just as you're about to reach forward to her and say something, she stands again. And… you watch her.
Reaching up into her hair and letting the white band out, causing those thick strands of Schnee hair to fall from the ponytail and down her back. Slipping her fingers under the hem of her shirt and pulling it upward to peel it off, and watching her hair fall out of it once she has it completely off. The pale, fair skin contrasting with the simple white bra just enough that if there was any less light… you'd think she wasn't wearing one. How quickly she slips her jeans off… and before long… how all of that skin of hers feels against yours.
She pulls the covers up and over both of you after climbing into bed, and for a moment, you can see a faint red blush covering her cheeks. But she gets closer and burrows into you. Her head finding its way under your arm and against your chest, and how it feels so, so instinctual to pull her in with your arms squeezing her, and running your hand up and down her almost bare back….
"Sleep well, Y/N…" She whispers as she relaxes, her ear pressed against your heartbeat.
"And sweet dreams, Weiss…" You close your eyes…. Only moments before the comforting darkness of sleep claims you.