W/N: The following chapter is not part of the main story and can be skipped. However there is a section that is relevant to the central plot and it is separated by a line. There are depictions of what some may consider to be child abuse and predatory behavior. Reader discretion is advised.

Life was very simple. People enjoyed making it sound complicated, but it really wasn't. Either you were happy, or you weren't. And Yang wasn't happy. She hadn't been happy in a very, very long time. But that wasn't always the case. She could remember the days when she was a child and all she ever did was smile and laugh.

She grew up on Patch, a large island to the west of Vale. It was a relatively modern village with almost all the comforts of the big city without the crowds. Every home had a large yard and while the forests were infested with Grimm, it never grew too dangerous for the citizens to handle.

Their house was a small wooden cottage on the outskirts of the main roads. It wasn't very large, but their parents had made it themselves. Every nick and scratch were a reminder of their dedication to the life that they had created. Their dad called it his "third greatest accomplishment in life" after his marriage and his two daughters, of course.

All of Yang's happiest memories were at that house. While their dad wasn't the most involved person in her life, their mom was present in nearly every recollection. She remembered their mom teaching Yang how to read and write. She remembered the two of them baking pies and cookies in their kitchen for the winter holidays. And she remembered wrapping presents for Ruby's fifth birthday. Yang had made her sister a picture book using nothing but a pack of crayons and their dad's old work papers.

Everything had been so easy back then. Her family had been whole. The truth didn't matter.

But everything changed the year Yang turned eight.

Her parents had just started to teach Yang how to fight. They wanted her to be a Huntress, just like them. They said she had the gift for fighting and they didn't want her to waste it. Yang was happy to comply. She liked feeling of the wind through her hair. She liked the soreness in her arms reminding her of her growth.

Ruby would always be watching their training sessions while standing off to the side. Their mom said she was too young. Too delicate. She always voiced the hope that Ruby would do something different with her life.

Secretly, Yang was happy with the arrangement. It was nice to have both of their parents to herself. It was a greedy and selfish pleasure, but she often felt that Ruby was the favorite. They never said it out loud, nor did Yang have any concrete reason for thinking something so blasphemous, but the nagging thought persisted.

They were in the middle of a training session when her mom received a call for a special mission. A personal request from an old friend, they said. Yang never learned their name.

Missions weren't anything new. Their mom was a Huntress, and Yang liked to think she was one of the best. Once or twice a month, she would go out for a mission to protect their little village, but she would always be home within the week. Her first job first and foremost, was a mom. At least, that's what she always said.

But this mission was different. Yang recognized that immediately. Their mom would be away from home for at least two weeks and there was no idea when she would be coming back. Dad didn't want her to go. Yang remembered listening to them argue about it in the dark. Just voices whispering angrily back and forth. Words she didn't understand.

Dangerous. Dead. Alone. Scared.

But Dad could never stop their mom from doing what she wanted.

It was hot the day she left; about one week after the call. Yang remembered it was the first week of July and her mom's white cape had been blinding beneath the blazing sun. Dew clung to her red hair and otherwise dark clothes. She was radiant. Like a flower in full bloom.

She had promised to be home before Yang's birthday in five weeks. They were going to make a giant feast together. The whole family was going to be there. Dad would be back from Signal and Uncle Qrow would bring Yang a giant stuff bear.

But Yang's birthday came and passed with no word from their mom. Their dad was home every weekend, but he was absent-minded and lethargic. A shell of his normal self. He refused to look at Yang and rarely paid any notice to Ruby's cries for attention. His mind was clearly elsewhere.

It wasn't until mid-September when the news hit. Uncle Qrow showed up on their doorstep, clearly tired and broken. She remembered it was raining that day. Dad had answered the door, but it was Ruby who asked the question.

"Where's mommy?"

Uncle Qrow wouldn't tell them what happened. He had brought back her weapons and her white cape, now dirtied and torn. An ugly, bloody hole in the back screamed over his silence.

Ruby didn't understand what had happened, but Yang did. In the hollow emptiness of that day, one concept took the reins: Their mom was gone. She would never read them another story. She would never bake them another pastry. They would never see her again.

Their dad couldn't handle it. He locked himself in his room for days. He didn't eat. He didn't speak. Yang could hear him breaking things behind the heavy oak door, but he never stepped outside to face his children. Yang tried her best to keep the house together. She cooked and she cleaned. She read Ruby stories to help her sleep. And when no one else was looking, she took all of their Mom's photos and hid them in a box beneath her bed.

There weren't that many to sort through. Their mom wasn't the type of person who liked taking pictures. She was always hiding her face away from the camera even though she was very pretty. That was one of the few things Yang didn't understand about her.

A week after Uncle Qrow's visit, their dad packed up his things and left. Yang found the note on the fridge.

'There's something I need to do. Take care of Ruby. Love Taiyang'

In the first few days of his absence, Ruby frequently asked about their family. It was always the same three questions.

"Where's Mom and Dad?"

"When are they coming home?"

"Do they not want us anymore?"

Yang didn't know the answer to any of those questions, so she tried her best to change the subject and distract her sister in any way she knew how. Namely, TV and sugar. As the weeks went by, Ruby seemed to forget, but the questions had taken root at the back of Yang's mind.

Ruby's sixth birthday passed with just the two of them standing on the chairs in the kitchen. Yang had made a small cupcake and tried to write the number six onto the top with chocolate syrup. It didn't taste very good, but her little sister ate every last crumb.

Yang gave her sister four presents that year: One of her old t-shirts, a box of new markers, a papier-mâché crown, and a collection of hardcover fairytales.

She had found that last one in the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs. It was neatly wrapped with a big red bow and a small message scrawled on an attached card:

To Ruby. From Mom.

Yang had found something else in there too: a giant stuffed teddy bear that would have 'come' from their Uncle Qrow. A promise made and a promise kept.

November came and went without much incident. Uncle Qrow didn't visit and their dad didn't come home, but Yang was learning to live without them. Ruby remained consistently by her side, helping with the chores or perpetually re-reading her new books. Things could have remained like that forever if Yang had never found that picture.

December brought snow and the cold. The cottage wasn't warm enough without the tarp their parents put up every year, and Ruby had come down with a fever. Her little body was cold to the touch despite her burning forehead and rosy red cheeks.

Yang stayed by her side day and night, watching her temperature and trying to get her sister to drink more water. Every two hours she tried to apply ice to the little girl's face, but she remained frightfully warm.

"If I die, will I get to see mommy?"

Yang hadn't expected Ruby to understand, but those nine little words made her blood run cold. It was the first time her sister had mentioned their mother in weeks and for a half-second, Yang feared she might lose the only person who still mattered. In a state of desperation, she did what she hadn't dared to do for months.

Their parents' room was the last door at the end of the hall on the second floor. Neither of the girls had been inside since the day, Uncle Qrow had arrived to give them the news. Their dad had locked it before he left, and Yang didn't have a key. A slight draft now occupied the area around the entrance, making the already cold house, deadly.

But Yang didn't have the time to wonder how their dad would feel about her invasion. She put on her thickest sweater and heaviest winter coat before pounding a hammer against the doorknob. The weapon felt heavy and dangerous in her small hands, but she didn't stop. All the strong medication was kept on a shelf inside that forbidden room and she could not stop.

After what felt like hours, the steel gave way and the metallic knot fell to the floor. The door creaked open to invite her in.

The small space was exactly how she had imagined it. Debris littered the floor. Picture frames, mirrors, vases, and even the lamp. All of it had been destroyed during their dad's rampage. An apt representation of how he must have felt.

The window was cracked open and Yang recognized it as the source of the cold air. She hastened to close it before she started on her task, delicately trying to dodge the myriad of broken glass littering every corner of the room.

Before she had a chance to reach her destination, she saw an unfamiliar picture laying beneath the scraps. It was older than the others and had yellowed slightly over time. A group of four teenagers were staring at the camera with a mixture of smiles and half-hearted grins.

Their mom was standing on the far right, leaning against a tree with just her lower body. A half-grin peeked out from behind the hood of her cape. On the other side of the tree was their dad, looking younger and thinner than Yang had ever seen him. He was clean-shaven with long and neatly styled hair. He wasn't handsome, at least, not compared to her uncle Qrow who was standing on the far right. No matter how many years might have passed, he looked more or less the same.

But the person who truly held her attention was standing in the middle of the photo. She was positioned in front of the other three with her hands on a giant blade attached to her hip. Her hair was long and black, sticking out to the sides. Her clothes were like nothing Yang had ever seen, sleek and red. Everything about her screamed a fight. She was a woman made solely for combat.

But what really captivated Yang's attention was her face. It was heart-shaped with smoldering red eyes and a button nose. Her mouth was a thin but prominent line above a strong chin. It was the same face Yang saw when she looked in the mirror.

Yang stood in that room until her lips turned blue and she could no longer feel her fingers. Ruby was the one to find her, nearly an hour later, with mild frostbite and a mind that could not comprehend what it was she had learned.

It wasn't until much later that night, long after their dad's room had been reclosed and Ruby's fever had died down considerably, that Yang dared to pull out that accursed photo again. She placed it against her reflection in the mirror and stared. No matter how hard she tried to compare them, the resemblance didn't fade. She fell asleep with it in her hands.

The next day, Yang awoke with her hands empty. She searched every nook and cranny of her room before deciding is was definitively gone. Out in the hallway, there was a new knob in the door to their parents' room, complete with a key sticking in the hole.

Yang didn't hesitate this time. Their dad was sitting on his bed. His face was unshaven, and his eyes were red. The singular object of her attention was held loosely in his hands.

She didn't need to prompt him with a question.

The moment he laid eyes on her; every last secret spilled out like a bag of marbles. Her name was Raven Branwen. She was Uncle Qrow's older, twin sister. All four of them had been a team together at Beacon. That was where it all started. There had been so many nights training and fighting together, that a relationship became natural.

They didn't fall in love. Not really. But the attraction was always there. A dynamic no one had suspected. A relationship neither of them ever asked for. A result nobody expected.

"We never meant for any of it to happen."

He looked guilty after the words left his mouth. As if he hadn't meant to say them at all. Perhaps he didn't.

But Yang would never forget any of it.

Everything about that moment was seared into her mind. His face. The way his eyes looked sad, even a little remorseful. A song of regret in those nine little words.

But she also heard the words he didn't say: 'You were a mistake'

Yang no longer knew how to face the man who had lied to her for the entirety of her short existence. Could she blame him for hiding the cold and harsh truth of her birth? Or should she have been grateful that his legitimate wife had treated her so well she could have never guessed the truth.

Yang didn't know, and her ignorance brought her nothing but pain. The only solace to her suffering was a little sister who knew nothing.

Even with their father's return, Ruby clung to her like a squid. Wherever Yang went, Ruby followed. In the past, it had been mildly annoying but now she found comfort in knowing that at least one part of her life remained real. Even if Summer Rose wasn't the woman who had given birth to her, Ruby was still her sister.

Time moved on without mercy. As the months went by, Yang spent less and less time around her father and he made no attempt to repair their relationship. Perhaps he didn't want to.

Her training continued, though her teacher was now her uncle Qrow, who would visit every weekend. He seemed relieved to hear she had learned the truth, and despite his desire to tell her more about the woman who had birthed her, Yang had no desire to learn.

"I only have one mom. And her name is Summer Rose."

Yang's fighting improved. After weeks and weeks of doing nothing but training her body, she could fight like a boxer and think like a rogue. As her uncle used to say, "There's no such thing as fighting dirty when your life is on the line."

Yang and Ruby's relationship remained strong despite the roadblock that was their father and a truth she promised never to tell. However, the world was cruel and unforgiving. Nearly a year after their mother's death, Ruby would be the one to finally slam the nail into the coffin.

The three of them had planned a visit to her mother's grave, a small marble monument erected atop a cliff overlooking the strait between Patch and Vale. The day was beautiful. It was the start of summer and the heat had finally settled in. Their father had brought roses from the garden. Ruby had grown an inch that spring. She bounded up the hill like a hyena and was in the middle of finishing her story when the rest of her family joined her.

"I want to be a Huntress. Just like you and Dad."

He exploded. Throughout her childhood, Yang had not once seen their father yell at Ruby or discipline her in any way. Yet, in front of their mother's grave he shut her down on the spot. Told her he didn't want her anywhere near a combat school. He shouted her down until she burst into loud wails and still, he did not stop.

"That is the last thing your mom would ever want!"

His reaction was like something out of hell. Yang didn't understand it at all. Why was their father so adamant about stopping Ruby from becoming a Huntress? They had had no problem training Yang. Encouraging, even.

It simply didn't make any sense.

But several weeks later, as Uncle Qrow was teaching her a new training technique, Ruby ran to join them. It was the first time in over a week Yang had seen her so excited. The first words out of her little sister's mouth was a request to learn how to fight.

Their uncle looked surprised with the demand. He knew about their parents' hopes to keep Ruby off the front lines. While he disagreed with them, he didn't dare to defy their wishes.

However, Ruby was used to getting her way. Week after week, she begged and pleaded until their Uncle Qrow gave in.

"One or two moves. Just so you know how to protect yourself, kiddo."

But those two moves turned into three. Three turned into a routine. The routine turned into plans and by the end of Autumn, Ruby could run and dodge as well as Yang could if not better. Their Uncle Qrow had a proud new protegee.

However, secrets were bound to come out. Their father came home unexpectedly early one weekend and caught them in the yard. The sight of his youngest daughter dodging an attack threw him into a rage. He punched Uncle Qrow in the face, kicked him out of the house, and forbade him from ever visiting their home again.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?! You're going to get her killed!"

Yang and Ruby listened to every last word of their father's assault. They were only a few meters away, watching the confrontation. Yang saw the defeat and perhaps the guilt in her uncle's eyes. But she saw something in her father too.

Fear.

Fear that his beloved daughter would end up like her mother. Fear that he would lose the one thing in his life he would give anything to protect. Fear that he never held for her.

The final puzzle piece clicked into place. Whatever fragile tether she held to her family snapped like a spider's thread. Any foolish pride she held from her parents' attention evaporated into a cloud of smoke. There was no family. There was no one. There was only a woman who had abandoned her at birth and a man who was training her to die for the sake of the daughter he wanted.

Yang could never look at them the same way again. Every time her father spoke, the anger would cloud her judgement and the hatred would roar in her veins. The very sight of him made her want to scream.

But Ruby? Ignorant, blameless Ruby. Yang loved and hated her in equal measure. If only she could have been born like Ruby.

"Give me another strawberry sunrise," Yang ordered. The bartender shot her a questioning look but hastened to obey her request. The dance floor was wild tonight, but she wasn't in any mood to join the crowd. The only thoughts flooding her mind were those of Ruby and the night before.

Her sister must be okay. She absolutely needed to be. If she were seriously injured, the school would have called her. They would have brought her in. Given her a detention or expelled her. Whichever one. It didn't really matter. She was ready for any outcome at this point.

Yang downed her drink in one gulp, letting her head fall heavily onto her arm. She had lost count of the glasses tonight. A brief quiet voice wondered if she would have the lien to pay for her tab, but at the moment, she didn't care.

"Give me another one," She slurred to her bartender.

"Listen lady. You're cute, but I'm not sure you can handle another one," The bartender casually leaned over the counter to pack away her empty glasses, "I'm not sure your wallet can either."

"Just—"

Before she could finish her sentence a red-haired man in a fashionable white coat and black bowler hat casually sidled up beside her. An unlit cigar dangled from his lips while specks of dirt and grime clung to his otherwise swanky clothes, "Give her the drink, Junior, I'll pick up the tab."

Yang tried to take a closer look at him, but something about his face appeared as if it were covered by a haze, "I don't know who you are. But I'm not in the mood."

He leaned in a little closer, pulling the cigar from his lips, "If you ask me, I'd say you were definitely in a mood. You're just the kind of girl I'm looking for."

"Oh yeah?" Yang grabbed him by the collar, pulling down his face so it was level with her hair before pushing him away, "I'm not interested."

He chuckled, slowly straightening out the creases in his suit, "That's not a problem sweetheart, people learn to love me. Let's share just one little drink and I'll be on my way."

Yang rolled her eyes, before taking the newly arrived glass and chugging it in half a second.

Nothing happened at first, but then her vision started to spin. All the colors of the room blended together into a swirly soup. She wanted to throw up. Or pass out.

Before her body finally abandoned her, she had one single thought: Drugs.

She blacked out. She could feel her body was being moved. Carried. Flashes appeared in her vision as her consciousness came and went. She could see the streets outside the bar. Then a brief image of the inside of a car. There was a beautiful young woman with pink and brown hair immediately to her right. Her eyes were two different colors. She heard one voice and several words, but nothing coherent. It almost sounded like the man was talking to himself.

When Yang finally regained control of her body, the first thing she did was open her eyes to an unfamiliar room. It was sparsely decorated, with a window behind her and a low coffee table sitting directly in front of her positioned in the center of the room.

On top of the table was the man from earlier, now with his face clearly visible. He was handsome, if not a bit tired-looking. Despite the shadows around his eyes, he grinned like a child on their birthday, "Rise and shine, Blondie."

"Where…? Where am I?" She mumbled. Her throat felt like sandpaper and every word was like a thousand tiny needles pricking at her tongue.

"Somewhere safe. You're lucky you ran into us, sweetheart or the wolves would've eaten you," He motioned to someone on his right and the beautiful girl from earlier appeared a second later with a glass of water, "Drink up."

Despite her wariness accepting anything else from this man, she didn't have much choice. Her arms felt like they were weighed down by iron chains and her head was pounding, "Planning on drugging me again?"

"Me?" He put on an almost genuine display of shocked indignation. If Yang didn't know better, she might have fallen for it, "Never. You must have mistaken me for someone else."

"Whatever," She emptied the glass, spilling at least a third of it over and onto her clothes. It felt soothing despite how it must have looked, "What do you want?"

"Since you were kind enough to ask, we're in need of some muscle, and I couldn't help but notice the double axes hanging from your hip," He started with a grin.

Yang had forgotten about the pendant on her clothes. All the students were given one upon completing initiation. It was to let the city know they were students at Beacon, in case they caused any trouble.

"If you're looking for a Huntress, you've got the wrong person..."

He quirked one perfectly manicured eyebrow, "Really…? You sure you're not one of old Ozpin's little toy soldiers…?"

"Definitely sure."

He clapped his hands together in jubilee, "That's perfect. Anyone who isn't a friend of the old man is a friend of mine. And I could always use an extra pair of hands."

Yang couldn't quite understand what it was she was hearing. It may have been the drugs, or it may have been the way he talked, but everything he said sounded like lunacy and she wanted no part of it.

"I'm not interested. Just let me go."

He got to his feet, tapping her shoe with the bottom of his cane. Yang's eyes carefully gauged his strut and it was clear the stick was just for the aesthetic, "You're free to leave whenever you want."

Yang tried to stand up and the world took a hard dive to the left. Her legs refused to support her. It didn't feel like she even had legs. She took one uncertain step before tumbling over into the arms of the quiet girl from the kitchen.

The girl was dressed in the same eccentric fashion as her acquaintance with a long-sleeved short white jacket and strapless black tank top. She silently walked Yang back to the couch before returning to her companion's side. They were a strange-looking pair. Despite their similar attire, Yang didn't think they seemed like lovers or siblings nor was the apparent age difference large enough to make them father and daughter.

"Who are you?" Yang asked at last.

"The name's Roman Torchwick, professional sweetheart and Neo's my adorable little assistant," The girl bowed beside him, "We're here to offer you a chance to join our little family."

That one word brought a flood of emotions Yang didn't want: Anger, humiliation, jealousy, and no matter how much she didn't want to admit it; longing. Her nails dug into her sides to keep the feelings from showing on her face. She wouldn't give anything away. Not yet.

"…What are you talking about?"

He lit a cigar, taking a nice drag before responding in almost mocking tone, "Neo and I are all alone in the world. We're lonely and sad, and you're just the same."

"You're wrong."

He laughed before leaning in, coming so close to her face, she could feel his breathing against her cheeks.

"It's okay to be unwanted. We know how that feels, and we know how to make it better. Stay a while. Have some fun. You can always leave later if it doesn't work out."

Something about Roman's gaze made it feel as if he could peer directly into her mind. Weiss had said it loud and clear for months. Yang was unwanted. That was true in Patch, and now, it was also true at Beacon.

But maybe that didn't need to be true forever.

"…Fine. Whatever. But the moment this gig starts feeling lame, I'm leaving."

"Works for us, Blondie," He grinned.

"My name's Yang," She grunted, "Not blondie."

He grinned, a lopsided smile that showed plenty of teeth. Beside him, the silent girl offered an almost identical expression, "Well, Yang. Welcome to the family."

W/N: Because this is only a side story the next chapter will be posted on either the upcoming Sunday or Monday.