Ruby

Dad opens my bedroom door ten minutes after I get home.

He's quiet about it. Doesn't say anything, doesn't step in. He just looks, a frown on his face.

I stay still, my eyes squeezed shut. After a few moments, he sighs and shuts the door.

"She's asleep?" Mom whispers, not quite quiet enough.

"Looks it, yeah," Dad admits.

"Told you she would be."

"Forgive me for trying not to leave this until tomorrow," Dad says. "Tomorrow evening, at that."

"I know," Mom says. "It sucks. But at least you'll have some time to think about what you want to say."

"Overthink, more like."

There's a pause. "She's not going to hate you, Tai," Mom says. "Neither of them will. You're their dad."

"I don't care if they hate me, Summer, I just…" He stops. "We'll all talk about it tomorrow. Let's just go to bed."

Mom whispers something else, too quiet for me to hear, and then a few moments later, the floorboards creak until a door shuts somewhere.

They've left.

I pull my blankets up, trying to disappear under the covers. I'd tossed my wet clothes into the laundry before I laid down, but I still feel cold. I don't know what Mom and Dad wanted to talk about, but I'm glad they decided they decided against it.

Right now, I don't know if I could tell them anything.

I don't dream about Weiss. That's a lie, but those dreams aren't the ones I remember. I dream of Yang and Blake. When I found out.

It was at the end of last year, a few months after they had started dating. I had gone to the mall to play some arcade games with Jaune, but they had closed for whatever reason. We goofed around for a while, I think, but we both left before we had planned to.

In real life, I came home, unlocked the front door and went inside. It was a little messy—Yang was supposed to clean, but she hadn't yet—and I could giggling from upstairs. I didn't think much of it. Why would I? I knew Yang was here, and I figured she was probably hanging out with Blake. She always did whenever she had the chance.

So I went upstairs, thinking about reading a book or screwing around with my legos for a while. I wasn't exactly trying to be quiet, but it didn't matter. I walked in on them kissing in the hallway. Blake had pushed Yang up against the wall, her hand under Yang's shirt. Neither of them had their eyes open, and so for a few moments, I just stood there. I didn't really understand what I was looking at, but—I knew what it meant.

Yang saw me a few seconds later, her eyes fluttering open before widening in panic. She pushed Blake away, hasty excuses pouring from her lips. Before long, Blake joined in. I don't remember what they said. I doubt either of them expected it to work, but they tried. They were terrified of me, of what I could say and do.

It was enough for me to agree to keep them a secret, to not tell anyone, not even Mom and Dad, about what I found. It was enough to make me listen as they, slowly, spilt out everything. Their love, their history, their dates—the parts of their lives they'd been hiding from everyone else until they got comfortable with me knowing. Until they could start acting themselves around me.

That's not what happens in my dreams.

I come home to the front door open. The living room's still a mess, but it's not a good mess, the kind that comes from living. There's blood on the stairs, enough to make me trip as I race upwards, calling out Yang's name, Blake's, Mom and Dad's—

I find tattered clothes. I find blood and bile. I find Yang and Blake. Lying in the hallway. Same spot as before, but—

No. I don't find Yang and Blake. I find their bodies.

There's a knife in Yang's chest. I bend down, pull it out. My face shines at me from the knife's polished surface, but something's wrong. It's covered in something dark. Not paint, not a shadow, but something—

They were broken, someone whispers.

I wake up at the toilet.

My throat burns as I pant, vision hazy with tears. The air's filled with an acidic scent, and it takes a few moments to realize someone's holding my hair back, that I'm at the toilet because I just threw up everything I've eaten in the past day, and that the only reason I've stopped is because I've got nothing left to get rid of.

"It's okay," Mom croons, rubbing circles into my back. "It's all okay. Do you want some water?"

I try to answer, but just raising my head sends another wave of nausea to my stomach. I grip the sides of the toilet as I lean back over, gagging.

Mom sighs. "Yeah, you're staying home today."

It's a few hours later when I finally get sick of staring at the roof and make my way downstairs. Mom's at the kitchen table, a pile of papers set in front of her. She looks up and spots me after I step down the last step.

"Hey," she says, smiling. "Feeling better?"

I start to nod, then think twice. "Yeah," I rasp. "Peachy."

She chuckles, before shuffling the papers off to the side. "Feeling hungry yet?"

"A little," I lie.

"Good." She stands and opens the cupboard, pulling a box of chicken soup packets out. "Before you ask, Yang and Blake already left for school. Tai wanted to stay, but I guess he didn't want to push the captain's generosity."

"Blake was here?" I ask.

Mom pauses, a soup packet in hand. "She slept over. You talked to her last night, remember?"

"Right," I say, sitting down at the table. "I forgot."

She eyes me as she starts measuring the water for the soup. "Rough night?"

"Something like that."

She places the pot on the burner and cranks the heat. "Your talk with Weiss didn't go well?"

"Worse than that," I say, frowning. "Or, better, I don't know. She told me what happened. How her—her friend was drugged and murdered, and—she blames herself, Mom. She said she doesn't, but I don't—and her stupid therapist, he's…" I stop, throat blocked as my hands shake in my lap.

Mom places a mug of soup on the table before sitting down and throwing her arm around my shoulder. "No wonder you were out of it yesterday if she told you all that."

"You don't seem surprised."

She chuckles. "Yeah. Oz—Principle Ozpin, when he asked us to stay behind yesterday, he… he filled us in on some of this. I don't know as much as you do, obviously, but I know some stuff went down." She pauses. "I know she didn't come out of it without some scars."

"No kidding." I take a sip of the soup. It's stronger than Dad would make it, more concentrated. "She… she kissed me, too."

Mom's arm goes stiff. I don't dare look at her. "And—I liked it, Mom. I really, really liked it, but then her dad came in, and she freaked out, and I don't—I mean, everything she said was horrible, but then she kissed me, and I don't know what I'm supposed to think now."

"I'm still working on the kiss," Mom says, faintly. "She kissed you? Weiss Schnee?"

"Yeah."

She covers her face with her hands and groans. "Oh my god."

I turn my chair. "Mom?"

"I'm never getting grandchildren," she says.

"What?"

Mom shakes her head. "Nothing. Sorry, just sorting through a whole bunch of emotions." She removes her hands. "Tai and I are definitely breaking out the whiskey tonight."

I squirm in my seat. "Could we maybe not tell him yet?"

She eyes me. "Why?"

"I'm still kinda sorting it out," I say. "And if you tell Dad, then Yang's probably going to find out, and that would be—"

"Not ideal," Mom finishes. "I get that." She breathes out. "It's fine, really. Lot's of mother's keep their daughter's crushes in confidence."

She blinks and turns. "It is a crush, right? Like, it's not just hormones or whatever, right?"

My skin reddens. I put a hand at the back of my head. "Uh, n-no. It's not—it's like what Yang and Blake have, I think, but it's—it's real. A real crush."

"Just checking," Mom says, blushing herself. "Awkwardly."

I take a sip of soup.

"I can see why that would give you some whiplash," Mom says. "Was her friend…?"

I nod.

Her face falls. "I… Jesus. No wonder she's still hung up on it."

She breathes deeply, shaking her head before looking at me. "Why tell me all this, Ruby?" she asks. "Not to accuse you, but I doubt she wanted you to share this."

"Probably not," I admit, resting my head on the table. "But I know you're not going to tell anyone, and I… I just don't know what to do. About Weiss, about Yang, about any of this."

Mom starts rubbing circles into my back. "You don't have to do anything. Ruby. Yang and Weiss aren't your responsibility."

"But I started this," I reply. "And you didn't see Weiss. I… I don't ever want to see her that broken again."

Mom chuckles. "You've always had a big heart. All I can tell you is to just… follow it. Follow your heart as far as you can, but take care of yourself too, alright?"

I lift my head. "I'll be fine, Mom. Don't worry."

She smiles. "Don't think I can." She stands and extends a hand, pulling me out of the chair. "For now, let's get you back to bed. God knows you need the rest."

I don't argue. This conversation has been enough to exhaust me, and it's all I can do to climb up the stairs and crawl into bed. Mom gives me a soft smile before shutting my bedroom door, leaving me to sleep.

Weiss arrives five hours later.