Blake was tired. Physically and mentally, she was completely drained. She couldn't feel anything other than her fatigue, even though she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and not have to live in this world for the next several hours.
But sleep wouldn't come.
Blake knew the feeling all to well. It was dread. It was anticipation. It was the need for the answer to a question that just wouldn't come. It was that sinking feeling you get in your stomach when something terrible happens and nothing other than time could possibly make it better.
She'd felt it before. Too many times.
In a history that she hadn't told a soul, Blake knew the heavy, sick feeling of anticipation. She had felt it when she left her mother and father. She had felt it when she first questioned of what she was doing was right. She had felt it when she left Adam on that train. Each time was marked by a decision–a heavy, sick decision. What if her parents had caught her when she tried to leave? Would she be constantly monitored and kept in a gilded cage? What if she had decided to run from the White Fang then and there? Would Adam have taken notice to her? What if she hadn't cut the tie on that train? Would she still be by Adam's side?
It hurt. Everything hurt. Blake couldn't see straight, but the anxiety wouldn't let her sleep. All she wanted was to not exist until she knew Briar would be okay. It was her fault that he got hurt. It was her carelessness that let that Ursa hit him. It was her suggestion that out him on that mission.
It was her fault.
Blake was barely able to move her body. She was exhausted. Looking at her scroll, it was four in the morning and she was curled up in a chair in the library. Alone. Like she should be. She was a black cat. A misfortune. A sign of incoming bad luck whenever she crossed your path. If she wasn't around other people, they wouldn't get hurt. If all the books she was surrounded by were the only things that could speak to her, would she be happier?
She was tired. She was tired but couldn't sleep because of the pit in her stomach. Even with a book–a picture book–in front of her, she couldn't take in a word.
"Blake?" a voice calls. It was warm and soft. It was familiar. Even still, Blake jumps. She was supposed to be alone in the library to drown her sorrows in words.
Yang rounds a corner and appears from behind the fiction section. Seeing Blake curled up at the table, she pulls out a chair and sits across from her. Blake replies by shrinking further.
"Blake," Yang says. Blake says nothing and curls in further. "Blake, you have to talk to me."
"No. I don't."
"Well, I'm going to talk to you, then."
"…"
"That wasn't your fault. We had no idea that that Ursa was there. NOBODY knew that that Ursa was there." Yang puts her arms on the table and leans forward. "It sucks, but that happens. Missions go bad. You can't blame yourself for what happened."
"…"
"He's alive. That's what matters. He pulled through and he's okay. He'll make it through."
"…"
"You and I both know he won't blame you for this. This wasn't your fault. He wanted to be there. We needed him there. If he wasn't, there's no guarantee that we would have made it out of there."
"…"
"He unlocked his Semblance. He did it to save you from getting hurt. He's a fighter by nature, that proves it."
"…"
"I know I don't you well enough to say this, but you can't cope like this. Bad things happen and it's our job to make them better. He saved people today. YOU saved people today. WE'LL save people tomorrow."
"…"
"We'll keep moving forward, no matter what."
"…"
"And you can do it together. Because I know you want to."
"I do," Blake says, finally breaking. Her head raises ever so slightly as she opens up her posture. "You can see it?"
"Of course I can. You like him. That's why it hurts so much, isn't it?"
Blake looks away. "That's not it…" Yang raises an eyebrow. "Fine, that's not ALL of it. It's still my fault that this happened. It's my fault he was–"
"–If this wasn't the absolute worst time to do so, I would seriously consider slapping you right now," Yang states, her hair sparking. She shifts her seat closer to Blake. "It's not your fault that the world is like this. If anything, you made him stronger. He fought for you, for me, for people her cares about." She very slowly puts a hand on Blake's shoulder, ensuring she knows it's purely for intimate contact. "You can say it's your fault all you want, but that's not going to make it true."
"But–"
"–But just promise not to let it happen again. Just promise that you'll get stronger. That you'll get stronger with him by your side. We all will, so we can save everyone. So other people don't have to feel like this."
"Y-Yang…"
"He likes you back, you know. That was obvious from day one."
"That's not what–"
"–Just shut up and let me hug you. Because you look like you really need a hug right now."
Blake wipes her eyes and shifts her seat closer to Yang. The blonde wraps her arms around her and gives a gentle squeeze. Blake puts her face in Yang's shoulder and stays there. The blonde's warmth was a comforting campfire after a long, tired journey. Her body suddenly had feeling and energy back in it after so many hours feeling exhaustion. She wanted to be upset but she couldn't. For all her running away and fear of connecting with people, this proved it. She needed people. She need physical contact in her life. She needed to be close to other people and be vulnerable.
Blake sits motionless, resting her head on Yang's shoulder. All of her senses were filled with the scent, color, feeling, everything of her massive amounts of blonde hair. Blake was shoved directly into the sunlit threads, and it felt nice. Yang took great care of her hair, so it was soft and smelled like lilacs. Blake suddenly knew why Ruby was the way she was if Yang basically raised her. Yang was a mother, and knew how to show affection and accept another's feelings.
Blake's comfort came to a head as Yang began brushing her hair. She carefully threaded her fingers through Blake's long black hair, deliberately taking ages. In any other situation, Blake would be embarrassed and upset, but this was fulfilling far too much neglected physical contact for her to say no.
After several long minutes of silence, Blake said, "Yang, thank you." The blonde let her raise back up and sit in her own chair. "I feel… a lot better now." She leaned back and closed her eyes. "But… I don't want to sleep anymore. Tomorrow I'll just be dead all day and you're going to have to accept that."
"I'm sure we all will," Yang replied, scoffing. "It's too damn late and I sure as heck ain't going to work on any papers tomorrow."
"When I wake up, can we go get tea? I… I really want some tea."
"I'm also prescribing you like, six of those cupcakes they sell. You can't say no."
Blake felt her lips turn up for the first time in what felt like years. "Then I won't. I'll stuff my face with comfort food and smile."
"Wouldn't want your little crush to see you all mopey, now would you?" Yang teases. "The best thing a girl can wear is a smile. Sometimes, that's ALL she should wear!"
"Oh, Brothers Grimm, you are impossible."
"Can't help it," Yang says, smiling. If she was being honest with herself, she was torn up about Briar as well, but moping around wouldn't help anyone. She wanted to be sad, but for now, Blake needed her to shine like the sun and warm her. She needed to lighten the mood, otherwise Blake would stay in her depressed state until Briar woke up.
"You're not going to let me forget I have a crush on Briar, are you?" Blake's face grew steadily redder as she looked away.
"What kind of wing woman would I be otherwise?" Yang throws a hand over Blake's shoulder and feels a surge of joy in her heart when she doesn't try to avoid physical contact. "He likes you, you like him! No use beating around the bush." She was elated that Blake had moved on from mopey to embarrassed.
"He really does?"
"Of course! He's been infatuated with you since he first saw you."
Blake covers her face with her hands. "Man, it's that obvious, isn't it?"
"I caught him checking you out when we went shopping. You know, after I saw you checking him out when I tore up his shirt." Yang clashes her fists together and grins. "Wing woman! You're welcome for that view."
"He's cute and beat up a guy assaulting a little Faunus girl without hesitation. Of course I like him."
"Those ARE two very desirable traits in a man. As for your desirable traits, you're gorgeous, know how to dress, and look hella sexy when you do that one look you do."
"Do I now?" Blake says, raising an eyebrow with an, "Are you serious?" face.
"Yeah, that one. Woof. He'd be all over you right now."
"Oh, my gods."
"I'm not wrong."
"Yang, you're impossible."
"So you've said." Yang smiles, glad her plan worked. "I'm just saying he might recover faster if you wear something low cut and shake around a little when you go to see him."
"If it worked like that, you'd be the best nurse in the world," Blake laughs. "Ten CCs of Yang's cleavage ought to fix you right up."
"Oh, now I wanna buy a sexy nurse outfit~" Yang holds out her hands and makes a frame with her fingers. "Imagine it: me and you walking up all sexy, saying, 'tell me where it hurts and I'll kiss it all better~' Betchu he'd be right out of bed."
"Or the heart rate monitor would go crazy and we'd be interrupted by REAL nurses."
"We could always go the harem route."
"Save that for a different story, Yang." Blake sits back in her chair and feels suddenly as though she'd gotten some sleep. Yang's brightness had done wonders for her state. "Thank you, Yang. I… really needed you here."
"It's what I'm here for! I wasn't about to let you mope around forever!"
"That said, my social clock needs a hard reset. Now that I'm… able to actually function, I think I would actually like to try reading a book now that I know tomorrow will be a wash."
"Fine with me. There's a whole manga section I've been meaning to look at! I'll be at another table in case you need me so I don't bug you too much."
"I'd like that." Blake gives Yang a tired, but genuinely happy smile. "Thank you."
"Goodnight, Blake! Sorta."
"Goodnight, Yang."
"Just text if you need something."
"I'll be sure, too."
"…"
"Now, were you serious about those nurse outfits, or…?"
