The Fate We Choose (Hope's White Rose Week 2019 Collection)

by HopeOfMorning910

It should have been a quiet evening. Instead, Weiss finds herself ambushed by a team of vampire hunters and chased through the city. When chance brings her to a rather cheap-looking apartment building, she is saved by the most unexpected individual—a silver-eyed young woman with secrets abound. Who is she? What is she? And why do the mysterious fae seem to favor her?

7. Chapter 7 — (3) Illuminated

A/N: Here we go: the final chapter of the Silver Eyes Strength prompt. The Day 3 prompts are finally DONE, and now I can move on to the Day 4 prompts!

As promised, this one's going to be a quieter chapter.

Also, beware: there be several emotionally charged conversations ahead that may or may not require a box of tissues. You have been warned.

Word Count: 23,771

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WRW Day 3.2 (Silver Eyes Strength, 3 of 3)

Chapter 7 — Illuminated

PART I

The late night air tugged at Weiss's tresses as her Queen Lancer carried them to the end of the flood control channel. If they followed it any further, they would reach the docks, a place they should avoid at all costs since there would be security cameras everywhere.

At Weiss's silent command, her summon rose from the channel and headed into the city.

There was no way of knowing for certain, but with any luck, they had gone far enough away from the factory district that if someone did happen to see them, that person wouldn't immediately connect Weiss's summon to Ruby's silver light. Thankfully, Weiss's summons were far from the strangest things to appear in a city full of magic users and supernatural beings.

The streets were empty, but Weiss still didn't want to take any chances. She guided her Queen Lancer towards the tallest set of buildings in the area and flew between them, using them to mask their ascent into the sky.

As soon as they cleared the city skyline, a chill wind swirled past them, stealing away a bit of warmth.

It was enough to make Ruby shiver against her, drawing Weiss's attention at once.

Weiss dug into her pouch and pulled out a small vial of fire Dust that was barely larger than her littlest finger. She frowned at the amount of Dust in the vial, silently hoping it would be enough.

Although Weiss was licensed to use and carry Dust, she had to send notice to city officials and the SCB if she wanted to carry any more than the paltry amount she had on hand. Dust was just too dangerous to leave in the hands of ordinary citizens so it was strictly regulated, and the consequences for breaking Dust-carry laws were severe enough that it wasn't worth the risk of being caught.

Weiss used to carry larger amounts of Dust on a daily basis, but after the SCB tried pinning a few unauthorized Dust incidents on her simply because she was a non-human in the general vicinity at the time, she deemed it wiser to stop leaving a paper trail and giving them extra reasons to keep an eye on her.

Thankfully, she didn't need to use Dust to cast her ice Glyphs. Weiss surmised that ice spells were part of her family's original line of magic along with their Glyphs and summons. The ability to use other types of Dust in conjunction with their Glyphs was probably something her ancestors developed sometime later.

Weiss opened the vial and drew the shimmering grains into her Aura. Then she cast an array of glowing red Glyphs in front of her Queen Lancer. They heated the flowing air much like a conventional heater would, and Ruby soon stopped shivering.

Weiss breathed a sigh of relief and tightened her hold around Ruby's waist.

They flew towards Silkie's apartments, occasionally weaving in and out of the taller buildings to throw off anyone who might happen to be watching. It was necessary, but it slowed them down, making Weiss's jaw tighten and her lips press thin.

Every second that Ruby wasn't getting treatment for her injuries was a second too long. However, Weiss also didn't want to be the one to lead Ruby's enemies directly to her home.

Weiss knew there was some sort of fae magic around the apartments that would make any pursuers forget where they were going or what they were doing, but she wasn't sure how wide an area it covered. A stubborn pursuer could very well map out the edges of the spell and make an educated guess as to the general vicinity of Ruby's hideaway. From there, it would simply be a matter of finding a way to counteract the spell. For if there was anything Weiss's long years of existence had taught her, it was that no magic was foolproof. That counted doubly so for fae magic, based on the many stories Ruby had shared with her.

Fae magic was immensely powerful, but it was also unpredictable and changeable in nature. There was always a chance something would slip through the cracks, much like how that burglar had walked right into the apartments only to lose his arm to the bear on Silkie's enchanted door.

That was why Weiss had become exceedingly cautious of late whenever she went to visit Ruby, especially after realizing just how scared Ruby was about being discovered. These days Weiss varied her routes regularly, which included shopping at different grocery stores around the city, and even making sure not to drive the same car more than twice in a row. Anything to keep Ruby safe.

Fortunately, Weiss had plenty of vehicles on hand. She never knew when she might get caught out too late and need shelter from the sun, so she had safehouses scattered all over the city. Some were listed under her name, while others were listed under aliases, and all of them had one or two regularly maintained vehicles parked on the premises. It was simply a matter of dropping by one of her properties and switching cars before heading to Ruby's apartment or a nearby grocery store.

Tonight, however, the delay was rubbing Weiss's patience raw. She urged her summon to hurry.

Weiss breathed a sigh of relief when she finally reached Ruby's neighborhood, but her relief only lasted until the apartments were in sight.

She abruptly called her Queen Lancer to a halt as she stared down at the unknown figure standing on the roof.

She slowed their approach and cloaked herself in magic, ready to cast her Glyphs the instant anything untoward happened.

It wasn't until they were almost directly overhead that Weiss realized just who the figure was.

Silkie, the ruler, manager, and guardian of the apartments.

Weiss had never seen Silkie before, but Ruby had described her to Weiss once. Clear brown eyes flecked with amber like sunlight dappling across a wooden floor. Long braided hair the color of burnished oak. Warm golden skin that reminded Weiss of long evenings sitting by the glow of the fire. And like her kind were known and named for, Silkie was clothed in a simple but elegant gray silk dress with long flowing sleeves and a trailing hem.

Quite honestly, she looked like some lovely handmaiden out of an old fairy tale, ordinary and altogether human. However, that illusion didn't last long.

As soon as Weiss's Queen Lancer touched down on the roof, Silkie vanished from where she had been standing and appeared right next to them.

The hairs on the back of Weiss's neck stood on end. She hadn't even sensed the household fae move.

Silkie floated up and leaned over Ruby.

It took everything Weiss had not to pull Ruby away from her. Yes, Ruby clearly loved Silkie, and Weiss was fairly certain that Silkie had a soft spot for Ruby in return, based on the many stories Ruby had shared with her about the household fae. However, that didn't mean Weiss knew anything about Silkie personally. As far as she was concerned, Silkie was a virtual stranger, and Weiss did not want anyone she didn't know approaching Ruby while she was vulnerable like this.

Silkie tsked gently as she brushed a lock of hair from Ruby's brow. "Oh, little one, what have you done this time?" she murmured, her voice soft and musical like the lowest notes of a violin. A wave of magic that smelled faintly of varnished wood and freshly laundered linens washed over Weiss's senses, and Ruby stirred in her arms.

Ruby whimpered, and her breathing hitched.

"Come back to us, little one."

It struck Weiss then that there was something incredibly maternal about the way Silkie was speaking to Ruby. Her words were fond and gentle with an unmistakable undercurrent of warmth. It eased Weiss's nerves ever so slightly.

Ruby's breaths grew ragged and shallow, and her heart rate rose. She was awake.

"W-weiss…?"

Weiss's heart both warmed and tightened. The former because the first thing out of Ruby's mouth had been Weiss's name, and the latter because Ruby's voice sounded so lost, weak, and scared, as though she had just woken from a nightmare. And honestly, perhaps she had.

Weiss reached around and took one of Ruby's hands in her own. "I'm here," Weiss said as soothingly as she could. Ruby let out a sigh and gripped Weiss's hand tightly.

Ruby rolled her head towards Silkie. "I messed up," she said, her voice cracking.

"Perhaps," Silkie told her softly as she placed her hand against Ruby's cheek, "but your foes have been vanquished, and you still live while they are no more. You will heal in time, and you will be wiser for your mistakes. And in the end, sometimes that is all that matters."

Silkie raised her head and met Weiss's eyes. "Summoner. I will leave it to you to bring her inside." And like the flicker of a hummingbird's wings, she vanished from sight.

Weiss let out a long, slow breath. She was going to have to get used to that. It was one thing to know Silkie had that sort of power and quite another to witness it firsthand.

Yet despite her unease, she couldn't help but feel a little touched. Not only had Silkie finally shown herself to Weiss, which was a clear sign of trust, but she also called Weiss "summoner" rather than "vampire". It was a welcome change.

The next few minutes were agonizing. Weiss tried to work as quickly as she could, but she couldn't avoid aggravating Ruby's injuries. By the time Weiss had dispelled her summon and had Ruby cradled in her arms, Ruby was shaking in pain.

"S-sorry you have to keep carrying me," Ruby said, her voice thready and strained.

"Hush," Weiss told her. "I have no doubt that you would do the same for me."

Ruby made a quiet sound of affirmation as Weiss carried her towards the rooftop stairwell. However, as soon as Weiss walked through the open doorway, which she could have sworn was a lot narrower when she glanced at it earlier, she froze and did a double take.

Somehow she had stepped from the rooftop directly into an eerily silent, pitch-black forest. No forest should ever be silent. They should be filled with the sounds of life as creatures of all kinds woke and left their dens to hunt or forage for food.

Weiss glanced back over her shoulder and shifted uneasily. The doorway they passed through had vanished as though it had never been, and all she saw were rows of shadowy trees.

"Weiss," Ruby said softly. She started to reach up as though to give Weiss a reassuring pat only to wince and think better of it. She settled back, her voice a little rougher than it had been only a second before. "It's okay. No harm to those who enter in goodwill. That goes for all the residents in Silkie's domain. And Weaver's nice."

A sibilant chuckle drifted down from above them, and Weiss stiffened instantly.

"Rosebud, you are the only one who would dare call me 'nice'." Despite the fricative nature of the voice, it sounded oddly warm.

A massive creature dropped from the boughs above and landed roughly twenty feet away from them.

Weiss flinched back, her heart threatening to pound its way out of her chest, and barely managed to stop herself from summoning a protective Glyph.

The incident at the Mistralian Gardens had long since taught Weiss not to be rash or hasty in a fae's domain lest she incite them to unnecessary violence, but it was a close thing.

The creature raised its head and hissed. The grooves and knotholes in the nearest trees lit up in response with a soft, aqua-green glow. It could have been magic, but the glow reminded Weiss of the light from fireflies and other bioluminescent creatures. The glow spread from tree to tree until the forest was a glimmering sea of light.

Weiss wished the glow wasn't quite so bright though. Her night vision had already given her an uncomfortable glimpse of what had dropped down from from above, and she had no desire to see it in better lighting. Unfortunately, she had no choice in the matter, especially since the creature had decided to move towards them.

Weiss suppressed a shudder.

The fae was a giant spider with a humanoid torso where the spider's head would normally be. Its arms were long and tipped with claws, and inch-long fangs peeked out from behind thin lips. Dark brindle fur covered its vulnerable human stomach and gradually transitioned to stiffer sensory hairs on its lower arachnid half.

Normally, Weiss wouldn't consider herself to be afraid of spiders, but it was an entirely different story when the spider was at least three times her mass with legs that were likely much longer than she was tall when fully extended.

But of course that did nothing to faze the young woman in her arms. Ruby even smiled as the strange fae drew near.

"Weaver," Ruby greeted with a tiny wave.

"Rosebud," the fae returned. The timbre of the fae's voice sounded vaguely female, though the strange hiss in her voice made it difficult to tell.

Then the fae's dark, pupiless eyes narrowed alarmingly. "I told you I didn't want to see you in my domain again until the seasons change."

Weiss tensed. However, before she could decide whether she needed to call upon her magic or not, a rippling breeze swirled past her. Silkie appeared before them, her gray silks fluttering behind her as she drifted to the ground.

"The seasons have changed," Silkie said. "Time in the mortal realm flows differently after all."

Weaver cocked her head. "True. I had forgotten." The fae started to lean towards Ruby only to draw back with a hair-raising hiss. Her fangs flashed warningly. "You bring poison and death into my domain."

Silkie glided forward, subtly placing herself between Weaver and Ruby. "My decision. The little one is damaged enough that I felt it prudent not to waste time. I will deal with the iron she carries."

Weaver growled. "See that you do. Deal with the poison. In the meantime, I will make the necessary preparations."

Her gaze returned to Ruby, and her eyes seemed to soften. "At least tell me the ones who harmed you have perished."

"They have," Ruby answered solemnly, "though not necessarily all by my hand."

Weaver flicked her eyes to Weiss and then back to Ruby. "Good," she answered shortly. "It would be a great loss if your light were to be extinguished so soon."

The fae turned abruptly, her eight legs moving in perfect harmony. She bounded towards the nearest tree, and in less than a second, she had scaled its trunk and vanished into the treetops above. She was far faster than Weiss would have expected, considering her size. It was a sobering thought.

Weiss had made mistakes the last time she and Ruby had entered a fae's domain, and those mistakes had led to Ruby getting hurt. She would not make those mistakes again. Ruby's safety was paramount.

"Summoner," Silkie said, calling Weiss's attention back to the present, "this way."

The household fae led them farther down the softly illuminated path to a grassy clearing at the foot of several gigantic trees that were connected by shimmering lengths of web.

Silkie waved her hand, and the earth opened up. A simple wooden bed rose out of the ground and alighted on the grass, complete with a mattress, pillow, sheets, and a blanket. A sturdy bedside table soon followed and settled itself at the foot of the bed.

Ruby sucked in a sharp breath as Weiss seated her on the bed. Weiss tried to move as slowly and carefully as possible, but Ruby's deep sigh of relief when it was over spoke volumes of how much it had hurt. Ruby's eyes slid shut, and she sat stiffly, clearly trying to move as little as possible.

Weiss's fingers curled into her palm. She didn't like how Ruby's temperature had been steadily rising. A fever meant an infection had likely set in.

"Summoner," Silkie said again, and Weiss turned to meet her gaze. The fae dipped her head towards Ruby.

"Her clothes must be removed before we can see to her injuries. But they contain bits of iron, and she still has her iron knives. It is safer for you to remove them than it is for me, and I do not think she is well enough to do so on her own. She has silver weapons, but your kind are less susceptible to the emanations of silver than my kind are towards iron."

Silkie held out a pair of bronze shears. Weiss stared at them for several heartbeats before finally accepting them.

Silkie then gestured to a heavy wooden case that had appeared on the bed. "Place all her things in there, and I will take them back to her room."

A pile of folded clothes appeared in Silkie's hands, and she placed them on one end of the bedside table. "If she desires them. Your kind can be strange about clothing. But it would probably be best if she simply uses the sheet to cover herself. The less fuss the Weaver has to deal with, the better. She has little patience."

Weiss blinked. "'The Weaver'? It's a title?"

Silkie smiled. "It is not. It is but a nickname that was given to her when the little one first met her. 'Spiders weave pretty webs, so I'll call you Weaver.'" She mimicked a younger Ruby's voice so well, that chills ran up Weiss's spine. No wonder there were so many stories of fae leading travelers astray.

Silkie continued in her normal tones. "It is no more her true name than 'Silkie' is mine, but we accept the names as gifts freely given by a kind and honest soul."

She moved closer to Ruby and cupped her cheek. Ruby's eyes fluttered open just as Silkie leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of Ruby's head. A rush of magic tinged with warmth swirled around the two of them and spread out like a billowing wave. The magic sank into the earth and seeped into everything in the general vicinity and beyond.

Weiss flinched when a portion of it wrapped around her as well, enveloping her like a heavy blanket before dissipating. What…?

"A gift of time, dear one, so you may rest and heal," Silkie said softly to Ruby.

And before either of them could respond, Silkie disappeared from sight once more.

After a few moments of silence, Weiss asked, "Silkie really likes appearing and disappearing, doesn't she?" She tried to keep the disgruntlement out of her voice, but she wasn't entirely sure she succeeded.

She examined herself carefully, but she couldn't tell what kind of magic Silkie had cast on her. She didn't think it was malicious, but it still would have been nice to know what she had done.

Ruby didn't seem to pick up on Weiss's tone and merely grinned through her exhaustion. "Yeah. Silkies are tricksters at heart. They love keeping others on their toes. It's that or moving things around when someone's not looking. I once found my keys behind the butter dish and my pillow tucked away in a kitchen cabinet."

Ruby's grin faded as she glanced at the shears in Weiss's hand. "You don't have to help if you don't want to. I know this must be kinda awkward for you."

Weiss blinked and then narrowed her eyes. "Too bad. Your opinion at the moment doesn't matter. Besides, if you were thinking clearly, you'd be the first one to remind me to never renege on any task set forth by one of the fae. You don't want me to get in trouble with Silkie, do you?"

Ruby's eyes widened. She shook her head, wincing slightly. "S-sorry...I dunno why I didn't think of that..." She rubbed her face with a soft groan. "Head's all fuzzy." She curled in on herself and shivered, sending spikes of worry through Weiss.

Weiss stepped closer to the bedside and smoothed the hair from Ruby's sweaty brow. Ruby made a soft sound and leaned into Weiss's touch, trying to press as much of her face against Weiss's hand as possible. Weiss's lips thinned. Ruby was burning up.

Weiss gentled her voice. "Can you stand?"

"M-maybe? But probably not," Ruby mumbled. Her eyes fluttered open again, and her gaze was glassy and fever-bright. Not a good sign.

"Okay. We'll do this slowly and carefully, alright?" Weiss said as she put the shears on the bed.

She glanced around, and her eyes landed on the headboard. It would do.

Weiss helped Ruby to her feet, but as soon as Ruby was standing, Ruby wrapped her arms around Weiss and pressed her hot cheek against Weiss's collarbone. It was decidedly distracting, especially when the tip of Ruby's nose started tickling Weiss's neck as she snuggled in closer.

"S-srry," Ruby mumbled indistinctly. "You feel good…"

Weiss huffed softly as she cradled Ruby closer, figuring letting her have a few more seconds of comfort wouldn't hurt.

"That's the fever talking. I probably feel like a giant ice pack to you."

Ruby was already shaking her head. "N-no. You always feel nice. You make everything better." Her words were somewhat slurred, but Weiss still managed to make them out.

Weiss let out another huff as fond exasperation filled her chest. Of course feverish Ruby would be just as sweet as normal Ruby. And feverish Ruby was a bit needy as well, but Weiss couldn't bring herself to mind.

"I'm going to pick you up now, okay? I'll put you down by the headboard so you have something to hold onto to help you keep your balance. Sound like a plan?"

"Mmhmm," Ruby said as she wrapped her arms around Weiss's neck. Her movements were slow and halting.

Weiss bent down slightly, wrapped her arms around Ruby's waist, and carried her to the headboard. She set Ruby down as gently as possible.

Ruby didn't let go, however, and continued to cling to Weiss.

"Ruby?" Weiss rubbed Ruby's lower back gently.

"Don't remember if I told you yet...thanks for coming for me."

Weiss's arms tightened around Ruby's waist. "Of course I came. But don't you dare think you're off the hook yet. I'm still mad at you."

Ruby had the audacity to let out a tired chuckle, but it was a welcome sound. "I'll make it up to you; I promise."

"You better," Weiss told her. "And you can start by letting me take you to the mall so we can get you some new clothes." Because Ruby's current ones would be going straight into the trash after this.

"What? Nooo," Ruby mumbled into Weiss's neck. The hum of her voice against Weiss's skin sent a strange tingling sensation up her spine.

"Wrong answer. The correct answer is, 'Yes, Weiss. I will do anything to get back into your good graces.'" That won Weiss another laugh, and her shoulders immediately felt a little lighter despite the worry lodged in her chest.

Ruby shook her head. "You can take me to the mall" —Weiss could hear the smile in Ruby's voice— "and I'll get them myself. You bought them for me last time. Don't need you to do that again. I can pay."

Uh-huh. Of course. Not.

"We can agree to disagree for now."

"Nooo, I'm injured. You can't disagree with an injured person."

Weiss let out a spluttering laugh. "Oh now you're playing the injured card? I thought you were 'okay'."

"You can be okay and injured at the same time," Ruby said, sounding all too reasonable. "But just because you're okay doesn't mean you can't be feeling miserable. And I'm not feeling good, so you should be nice to me."

There was a pause and then she added hastily, "But I'm also okay, so you shouldn't worry either."

Weiss didn't know whether to laugh or groan. "Ruby, the fever's addling your brain. You're talking in circles."

But at the same time, she was just so glad that Ruby was feeling well enough to joke around regardless of the fact that she was just plain wrong and Weiss would be helping her shop for new clothes later down the line. Weiss was the one who would be aiding in the destruction of her current ones after all. And perhaps Weiss would even get some more artwork out of the deal.

"Probably," Ruby admitted. She drew in a shaky breath and finally pulled away, wincing slightly as she lowered her arms. She blinked groggily at the headboard, still leaning heavily against Weiss. "I just need to hold onto that?"

"If you can manage it. If you can't, we'll have you lay down instead."

Ruby shook her head. "Don't wanna lay down. Gonna hurt even more than it already does."

Which was why Weiss had proposed doing this standing up in the first place. She didn't want to put any unnecessary pressure on Ruby's back, and those puncture wounds on her front probably hurt as well.

Weiss waited until she was sure Ruby wasn't about to fall over before moving away to reclaim her shears. "Do you want the bed sheet?" Ruby wasn't particularly body shy, but Weiss didn't want to risk making her feel uncomfortable.

Ruby shook her head again, her eyes already drooping as she clung to the wooden headboard.

Weiss fetched the bronze shears and returned to Ruby's side. "I'm going to start with your injured leg first, alright?" she said softly and got a nod in return.

Weiss knelt to the ground. However, now that she had a good look at it, she realized Ruby's leg was much more swollen than she initially thought, and it was scalding hot to the touch.

Weiss's jaw tightened. It was going to be agonizing when she tried slipping the shears into the almost non-existent space between the cloth and Ruby's skin. Even the slightest amount of pressure on Ruby's leg was likely to be excruciatingly painful.

She helped Ruby remove her shoes, socks, and ankle knives; and even that simple task made Ruby suck in a sharp breath and grit her teeth when she had to lift her foot.

"Ruby, it looks bad," Weiss said at last. She straightened and met Ruby's eyes. "I can take away the pain like I did at the gardens," she said quietly.

Ruby shook her head. "B-bad idea. Weaver might not take it well. She's like the dryad. Doesn't like it when people use their powers in her domain without permission 'cuz that kind of thing is considered really rude. The dryad probably let you do it then because I was doing her a favor, but I don't think Weaver will be as lenient." She tried to smile. "I'll be okay."

Weiss frowned. And asking for said permission could be more trouble than it was worth. It might even be dangerous.

Weiss blew out a frustrated breath.

"I'll try to make it quick," Weiss said at last. She reached up to touch Ruby's cheek briefly, trying to offer her one last bit of comfort before starting.

Ruby made a soft sound as she pressed her cheek into Weiss's palm. "I'll be okay," she said again. "Really."

Weiss huffed. She was growing to hate that particular phrase more and more these days, especially when it came out of Ruby's mouth.

Weiss stroked Ruby's cheek one last time before beginning.

It was horrible.

Ruby couldn't help but cry out when the metal shears touched her swollen, painfully sensitive leg, and every whimper fanned Weiss's ire.

I should have made the kelpie's death last, Weiss thought viciously, her blood pounding in her ears as she worked.

It was an incredible relief for both of them when Weiss finally finished.

But Weiss's relief was soon overtaken by gut-wrenching shock when she found the misshapen lump of melted plastic that used to be Ruby's cell phone. No wonder Ruby had been unable to call her back. And if by chance whatever had happened to Ruby's hoodie and cell phone had happened to Ruby herself...

Weiss shook her head roughly. No, she couldn't think about that right now. She gripped the device in trembling hands for one long moment before setting it inside the wooden case Silkie left for them. Ruby's ankle knives and her ruined cargo pants soon followed.

Weiss covered Ruby's lap with the bed sheet and sat down beside her, simply holding her as Ruby endured the throbbing pain in her leg through gritted teeth. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, dampening Weiss's shirt, and her breathing was harsh and ragged. Weiss rubbed the small of Ruby's back, her jaw tight. She hated that she couldn't do more to ease Ruby's suffering.

A soft rattling sound interrupted her thoughts. Weiss looked up to discover that the bedside table had rolled from the foot of the bed to the empty space beside her. There was a new set of objects on it that hadn't been there before: a basin of water that was dripping with condensation and a small pile of washcloths.

Weiss sent a silent word of thanks to Silkie and reached for one of the washcloths. She dipped it into the cold water and wrung it out as best she could with one hand since her other hand was occupied with holding Ruby close. Then she used the cool, damp cloth to wipe Ruby's hot, tear-stained face.

Ruby mumbled something that might have been a thank you and continued to lean against Weiss, her entire body still trembling.

After a little while, Ruby quietly admitted that she didn't think she'd be able to take her shirt off on her own either. Raising her arms pulled at her back too much. Weiss simply nodded and waited until Ruby had finally caught her breath before picking up the shears again.

A few snips revealed that the wounds on Ruby's chest weren't nearly as bad as the wound on her leg. Ruby's back, however, made Weiss utter a choked gasp. It was an angry mess of dark red bruising that was already turning purple. The gut-wrenching bruises stretched from shoulder to shoulder and partway down her back.

Weiss clenched her eyes shut, forcing herself to take deep breaths, but it didn't help. The nightmarish sight of Ruby's bruised and battered body just wouldn't leave her mind.

Weiss swallowed hard. Her lips quivered, and she pressed them firmly to get them to stop. "R-Ruby. We're going to have to remove your sports bra. I don't like how it's pressing against your bruises." She tried to keep her voice steady.

Ruby let out a sound that might have been a laugh under different circumstances. "Y-yeah, I figured. Go for it."

Weiss nodded stiffly. "I'll fetch you something to wear."

However, when Weiss glanced through the pile of clothes Silkie had prepared, she realized that Silkie had brought one of Weiss's shirts instead of Ruby's. It was one of the spare button-ups Weiss kept at Ruby's apartment in case she needed to go directly to the office after one of her visits.

It didn't take long to understand why. All of Ruby's jackets and hoodies had metal zippers or those metal snap buttons, and as far as Weiss knew, Ruby didn't own any traditional button-up shirts. Silkie had probably been looking for something that was easy to slip on and off without any dangerous iron bits when she went through Ruby's wardrobe. And conveniently enough, this happened to be one of Weiss's loose-fitting shirts, meaning Ruby could probably fit into it without a problem.

Weiss touched the dark gray cloth, suddenly very thankful that Silkie had chosen this one instead of one of her white ones.

Ruby's eyes were shut again by the time Weiss returned to her, which meant there was nothing stopping Weiss from staring at those bruises again. She couldn't help but glance at Ruby's shoulder as well, the one that had been so badly scarred by the lamia. The new injuries overlapped with the old, reminding Weiss of just how fragile, how mortal, Ruby was and how often death and injury seemed to seek her out.

Weiss came to a full stop. Her throat suddenly felt thick, stealing her voice and making it hard to breathe. Her chin trembled, and her insides felt as though they had turned to ice.

She had been so close to losing Ruby tonight. If Winter had been any slower to fetch Weiss or if Ruby hadn't thought to send Winter in the first place, Ruby might not be here anymore, and Weiss wouldn't have had any clue. She would still be out there searching the city, and there was a high chance that Weiss would never have found her. The factory district was one of the last places she would ever consider looking simply because it was so far away from Ruby's workplace and apartment.

Terror filled Weiss's chest and ripped a gaping hole in her soul—a hole that she was certain only one person would ever be able to fill. If that person disappeared, Weiss wasn't sure her soul would ever heal.

Weiss struggled to contain her spiraling thoughts and failed. She didn't know how long she stood there, clenching the shirt between her hands in an iron-grip and fighting to keep herself calm. However, when her mind finally slowed, one final thought cemented itself deep within her: this couldn't happen again.

---

Ruby shivered, feeling more and more miserable every passing second. She knew the feeling would pass in time. Silkie's home and hearth magic was nothing to sneeze at and could bring a measure of comfort and peace to even the most worn-out souls. But until that magic started kicking in, Ruby just had to endure.

Her leg was the worst. It pulsed and throbbed with every beat of her heart, sending spikes of red-hot agony up and down the limb.

Something landed in her lap.

She pried her eyes open and blinked dully at the gray thing draped over her knees. It took her feverish brain far longer than it should have to realize it was a piece of cloth. No, not a piece of cloth—it was...a shirt?

Distantly, she felt the mattress sink beside her, but she wasn't able to connect the dots until someone wrapped their arms around her. One arm cradled her head and pressed it against their chest, while the other wrapped around the small of her back. Those cool arms felt so good against Ruby's heated skin. But something was wrong. Why were they trembling?

"W-weiss?"

Those arms tightened though they were careful to avoid her injuries. "Just...be quiet for a minute. Please."

Weiss's voice was terse, and the sound broke through the haze of Ruby's fever.

Ruby forced herself to shake off the heaviness in her limbs. She tried to turn so she could return Weiss's hug, but Weiss was holding her too tightly. So instead, Ruby reached up and gripped the arm that was curled around her head.

"Weiss?" Ruby asked again, her voice rising in a mixture of worry and alarm.

Weiss let out a harsh breath. She drew away, finally letting Ruby turn to face her.

Ruby's heart plummeted. Weiss wasn't crying, not yet, but her eyes were red and glistening.

Weiss never cried, and the sight of Weiss anywhere close to crying uphended everything that was good and right in the world.

Ruby started to reach out, desperately wanting to do anything to ease Weiss's pain, only to hesitate at the last moment. Her hand hung in the air, awkward and unsure.

Weiss's expression was hard, but her hand was gentle as it wrapped itself around Ruby's outstretched fingers. Those blue eyes pinned Ruby in place.

"You can't do this again. Any of this."

Ruby blinked, trying to figure out what Weiss was talking about.

Weiss's hand shook as she lowered Ruby's hand and held it against her chest. Her fingers tightened. "And you can't just call me and then hang up on me like that. Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"I didn't mean to!" There was a whine in her own voice that Ruby didn't like, but it leaked through anyway. "There just wasn't time! There were these kids, and they were in trouble, and the Grimm were already there, and two of the kids were already hurt so I had to—"

"Stop." Weiss held up her hand abruptly, and Ruby stuttered to a halt.

"Start over," Weiss said, her tone fierce. "Start from the beginning. Tell me what happened, and don't you dare leave a single detail out. I want to hear all of it."

Ruby swallowed and nodded. No point in hiding anything after all, not after Weiss had already seen her powers.

She went through it all, talking until her throat was dry and aching, from the moment she hung up on Weiss to the battle in the abandoned workshop, all the way to summoning the last of her strength to call on Winter for help.

Weiss stopped her then, having heard that part of the tale from Winter already. She went perfectly still, and Ruby could almost see the gears turning in the back of Weiss's mind as she organized everything she just heard, putting every piece of information in its own little box, probably with a corresponding label to boot.

Ruby's free hand fell to her lap, and she started playing with the shirt that she now realized was one of Weiss's. Ruby didn't dare look up again until she heard Weiss draw in a deep breath.

"Ruby."

Ruby's fingers gripped the shirt in her lap a little tighter as she forced her eyes up.

Weiss must have seen something in Ruby's expression for her gaze subtly softened. She leaned forward and drew Ruby into her embrace, a gentler one this time. Ruby let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and buried her face against Weiss's shoulder. Weiss finally released Ruby's hand so that she could reach up and cradle the back of Ruby's head. Both of Ruby's arms went around Weiss as far as she could reach without jostling her leg.

"Ruby," Weiss said again, her voice softer than before though no less intense. "I need you to take a moment and imagine yourself in my shoes. How would you have felt if I suddenly hung up on you like you did to me, knowing it probably meant I was in trouble?"

The lump in the back of Ruby's throat thickened, and her chest hurt at the very thought. Her voice cracked as the same pathetic excuse fell from her lips. "I-I didn't mean to. It just happened."

It sounded so stupid when she said it, but it was the truth. The moment she heard those screams in the distance, the only thing on her mind was that she had to get there in time to prevent the worst from happening. To prevent a new tragedy from occurring.

Ruby felt Weiss nod against her shoulder. Weiss pulled away, and Ruby's arms suddenly felt so empty.

"I know. Which is why I forgive you. I don't like that you got so injured, but I can't honestly blame you for doing something I would have done had I been in your shoes. But this can't happen again." Weiss's voice rose. "I mean, look at you! What would have happened if you hadn't sent Winter to find me?"

Ruby swallowed and tried to look away. However, Weiss caught her chin and refused to let her. "What would have happened?" she asked again.

"I-I…"

Ruby didn't have an answer for her, or at least not one that would make her happy. She pulled away, her shoulders curling. The movement hurt, but a part of Ruby felt like she deserved the pain. She deserved the hurt for putting Weiss through everything that had happened tonight.

Weiss would have none of that, however. She touched Ruby's uninjured shoulder gently. "Stop, please. I'm not...I'm not trying to blame you. Sometimes...things just happen. It would be foolish to believe otherwise. And even the best intentions can go awry due to events out of our control. But that's neither here nor there."

Weiss drew in a deep breath and then took Ruby's hands in her own. "You told me something once. Back in the gardens after the dryad gave us time to speak with one another. Do you remember?"

A lot of things had been said that night. Ruby tried to remember, but her fever and the pain from her injuries weren't helping.

Weiss must have seen the answer in Ruby's face, but she didn't seem mad or upset. If anything, her expression softened, though it remained quietly intent.

"You told me, 'Please don't make me lose you.'" Weiss gave Ruby's hands a gentle squeeze. "Well, the sentiment goes both ways. I can't" —her voice hitched— "I don't ever want to lose you either. And tonight I almost did."

Weiss's voice shook, and Ruby's heart crumbled a little more.

"You need to realize you're no longer alone." Weiss's gaze never wavered. "You can't live only for yourself anymore. If we're family, then we have to be family. And that means letting me share your burdens. If you have to run off and fight Grimm, fine. I'll even join you. But if there's no way I can make it in time, then at least give me enough information so I can find you and see to your injuries afterwards. Just please, please don't shut me out."

Weiss's eyes finally overflowed, and the sight made Ruby feel like the worst person in the world.

Ruby's own eyes burned in shame, guilt, and self-disgust. She hadn't even given a single thought to how Weiss might feel, yet Ruby knew best how painful waiting could be.

How many times had Uncle Qrow left her behind to take care of something or check something without her? How many long hours and nights had she spent in whatever bolthole he left her in, simply waiting for him to come back for her? And after finding her a permanent place at Silkie's apartments, the days and nights only stretched to weeks of waiting for him to come back and check on her.

Of course, Ruby knew then just as she knew now that she shouldn't be selfish. Uncle Qrow had important things to do and only left her behind to keep her safe. But it hurt all the same. To think she had just done the same thing to Weiss.

Ruby sniffled, her throat hurting. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Really, I didn't."

"I know you didn't." Weiss leaned forward and pressed her brow against Ruby's, her warm breath shaky against Ruby's lips. "But something has to change. You can't do this again. Please."

Ruby nodded and kept nodding. A few stray tears leaked from the corners of her eyes only for Weiss to wipe them away with gentle hands. It made Ruby's heart hurt all the more. She had screwed up so badly yet Weiss was still being so kind. Ruby had to do better.

"I-I'll try. I promise." Ruby pulled Weiss into a fierce hug, squeezing her with all the sincerity Ruby could muster.

Weiss sounded choked up as she returned the embrace. "Mhmm. I know you will. Thank you."

They held each other for a time, their quiet sniffles the only sound in this part of Weaver's realm.

Then Ruby shivered, the cool forest air reminding her that she was technically a little more than half-naked, even with the bed sheet covering her lap.

Weiss made a disgruntled sound that Ruby might have found funny if she was feeling even a little better. She was getting there though, thanks to Silkie's magic. Her injuries still hurt, but her weariness was starting to lighten little by little.

"Sorry," Weiss muttered as she wiped her eyes. "This wasn't the best time for this."

Ruby made a noncommittal sound. Weiss tried to pull away, but Ruby didn't feel like letting go. So she didn't.

Exasperation colored Weiss's voice. "Ruby. We still have things we need to get done before Silkie and Weaver return." Her words notwithstanding, her arms settled themselves against the small of Ruby's back once more.

Ruby let out a soft whine at the thought of having to let go and pouted unseen into Weiss's shoulder. But she knew Weiss was right. Plus, her sports bra really was digging into her bruises.

Ruby gave Weiss one last squeeze before finally releasing her. She wiped her eyes and then picked up the shirt in her lap. She put it on backward so that the buttons ran down her back instead of her front, and briefly brought the collar to her face. She breathed in and smiled. It smelled like Weiss.

"Uh, Ruby? That's not how you wear a shirt."

Ruby's smile widened as she snuggled deeper into the cloth. "Makes more sense to wear it this way. Covers the important bits, and it hurts less to put on and off, too. Weaver's probably gonna make me take it off soon anyway."

Weiss sighed. "I suppose you're right." She touched Ruby's shoulder. "I'm starting now."

Ruby nodded and closed her eyes as she felt Weiss's fingers slide under her bra strap. Dimly, she wondered if she should be feeling awkward about all this, but in truth, all she felt was warmth and trust, the two things she would always associate with Weiss.

---

It was a little while longer before either of the fae returned. In the meantime, Ruby was content to sit cuddled up against Weiss.

Well, for as long as Weiss would let her anyway. Weiss kept moving away to exchange the wet washcloth she had draped over Ruby's bruises with a fresh one dipped in the basin of icy water that never seemed to get any warmer despite the passing time. Each fresh towel felt shockingly cold against Ruby's skin, but in the end, her bruises did seem to hurt less.

Silkie arrived briefly and spirited away the wooden case that held the remains of Ruby's clothing and knives. Not that they actually saw her, of course. One second the case was there, and the next, it was gone. Ruby probably wouldn't have even noticed if Weiss hadn't pointed it out.

Weaver made her reappearance soon after. She dropped down from above, spinning a sturdy strand of spider silk to control her descent.

She carried a familiar set of wicker baskets under each arm. Ruby had been here often enough before to know one of the baskets held healing tonics and potions, while the other held Weaver's specially woven spider silk bandages.

They were part of Weaver's magic. She could imbue her spider silk with poison or medicine, allowing her to make cloth or bandages that could hurt or heal over time. Her venom was just as versatile. She could tweak the compounds in her venom to do something as mild as putting someone to sleep or something much less benign if she so desired.

Weiss stiffened as soon as she realized Weaver had returned. Ruby laid her hand on Weiss's knee and gave it a light squeeze.

Weiss's shoulders loosened slightly. She placed her own hand over Ruby's to return the squeeze before shifting Ruby's hand back into her own lap. Weiss rose from the bed and situated herself a few steps away, much to Ruby's disappointment. Ruby liked having Weiss right beside her.

Weaver paid Weiss no heed. Her dark eyes were trained solely on Ruby. She sniffed the air, and her nose wrinkled with distaste.

"You smell of water fae, the unpleasant sort too. And of the Grimm."

"A kelpie caused the damage to her leg," Weiss said abruptly. "And a Grimm caused her other injuries."

For the first time since they met, Weaver leveled her gaze at Weiss and held it with a predatory stillness. Whatever Weaver saw there made her soften. Ruby wasn't sure if Weiss could tell, but Ruby could. The sensory hairs on Weaver's arachnid half relaxed, and her movements became smoother and less jerky.

"Kelpies are particularly malicious, but they are of middling strength," Weaver said at last. "Too many of them died when their waterways and homes were polluted. Those that managed to survive have only a fraction of the power they once had, excluding the ancient ones, of course."

Weaver set her baskets down on the table and moved to Ruby's side, rolling the table away so she had more room to maneuver. She craned her head and frowned at Ruby's bruises. Then she leaned down to examine Ruby's leg and let out a displeased hiss.

Ruby's heart sank. That wasn't good.

Weaver turned to Weiss.

"You should not stay here for this, Vampire," Weaver told Weiss bluntly. "It would be best if you left."

Weiss's brows snapped together, and her shoulders rose as though preparing for a fight.

Thankfully, Silkie appeared beside Weiss and interrupted before Weiss could say something she might regret.

"The summoner can come with me," Silkie said. "I have things to discuss with her, and this is as good an opportunity as any."

Weiss visibly tried to contain her anger but wasn't particularly successful. She bit out, "I have no intention of leaving."

"Your loyalty does you credit. However, you will only get in the way," Weaver said, her voice soft. She glanced at Ruby. "Tell her."

Weiss turned sharply, and Ruby squirmed a little under her gaze.

"It's probably going to hurt. A lot," Ruby admitted. "You shouldn't have to stay here for something like that if you don't have to."

Weiss narrowed her eyes. "All the more reason as to why I should stay." She crossed her arms and faced the two fae. "I can shield her from the pain."

Weaver shook her head. "My magic is potent but delicate. Not a single strand of power can be out of place lest it do more harm than good. You are a mage. You should know best the dangers that can come with magical interference and interrupting incomplete spells."

Weiss's lips thinned, and her shoulders tightened.

"The Weaver is correct. Your loyalty and devotion do you credit," Silkie cut in, "but such devotion makes fools of us all. Would you be able to hold yourself back and keep yourself calm even if we must hurt her to help her? Your kind are not known for rationality when you deem your kin are being threatened."

Weiss scowled and opened her mouth as if to say more, but Ruby spoke up before she could.

"Weiss," Ruby said softly, "I'll be okay. I promise."

Weiss frowned. She moved to Ruby's side and took her hand. Her thumb caressed Ruby's palm, briefly reawakening those pretty blue butterflies in Ruby's belly.

"Please don't ask me to go," Weiss said.

Ruby's heart twinged. The quiet pleading in Weiss's voice was almost more than she could bear. She hated making Weiss sound like that.

Ruby swallowed before giving Weiss's hand a squeeze. "I won't, not if you really don't want to go." She met Weiss's gaze. "But it's probably going to be bad. And I really don't want you to have to be around for it."

Because Ruby had already put Weiss through enough tonight, and she didn't want Weiss to have to suffer through more.

"It will be painful," Weaver said. "And if you remain, you will split the Rosebud's attention."

"She will worry about keeping silent so as not to distress you," Silkie added.

Ruby fidgeted, a little uncomfortable they knew her so well. Then again, Silkie had practically raised her when Uncle Qrow wasn't around, and Weaver had always been there to patch up the more serious injuries that Silkie couldn't. In all honesty, Ruby probably wouldn't be here today if the two of them hadn't taken care of her so well—Silkie in her dedicated protection and Weaver in her healing arts.

Weiss let out a slow, heavy breath. She sat next to Ruby once more. She hesitated for a moment before reaching out to cup Ruby's cheek.

Ruby couldn't help but close her eyes briefly, enjoying the closeness. She opened them again when Weiss started speaking.

"Fine. Do whatever you need to do," Weiss said. She stroked Ruby's cheek once before letting her hand fall away.

She added reluctantly, her voice quiet, "You're probably right, though. I don't think I would be able to take the sound of you in pain. It's...difficult...to endure." She glanced over at the two fae who had been courteous enough to move away to give them a little privacy, and dropped her voice even further. "Any idea what Silkie wants to talk to me about?"

Ruby shook her head. "But it's probably nothing to worry about."

"'Probably'?" Weiss huffed. "We really need to work on your ability to instill confidence."

Ruby couldn't help but grin.

"Probably," she repeated, which earned her an exasperated smile coupled with a gentle poke to the forehead.

Ruby's grin only widened, a bubbly feeling rising up in her chest at the fact Weiss had gone so far as to exchange her usual, mildly stinging forehead flick with such a gentle poke.

Weiss stood and looked at Silkie. "You will bring me back to Ruby as soon as her injuries have been treated?"

Silkie nodded. "I promise, Summoner. I would not keep you from her."

Weiss straightened her shoulders, and she gave Silkie a stiff nod. "Very well, then. Lead the way."

Ruby watched as Silkie opened a portal, and a part of her deflated when Weiss disappeared to wherever it led to. Ruby already missed her. Which was silly because Weiss would be back soon enough and Ruby had been the one to urge her to leave, but the feeling remained uncomfortably lodged in her chest nonetheless.

Now that they were finally alone, Weaver opened one of her baskets and started combing through its contents. The soft sound of clinking glass filled the otherwise silent clearing.

"Rosebud," Weaver said abruptly after a few moments, "you are a fool to continue battling the Grimm without the crow. Keep challenging fate, and one day even my skills won't be enough to mend you."

She pulled out a glass vial, uncorked it, and gave it to Ruby. "Drink this. It will ease your fever."

Ruby grimaced lightly at the unpleasant smelling liquid. She plugged her nose and tried to gulp it down as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, it didn't help. The horrible potion clung to her taste buds like sap and left her desperately wishing for a glass of water.

She handed the vial back to Weaver, who put it back in her basket and took something else out. It was a small, round, wooden container.

Weaver opened the container, and the pungent smell of medicinal herbs wafted through the air.

Weaver motioned for Ruby to turn around, and Ruby obeyed. Weaver removed the last icy towel Weiss had placed on Ruby's back, and gently patted her skin dry.

Ruby hissed quietly as Weaver smeared some sort of cold, medicinal salve across her bruises. A few moments later, she sagged in relief as the salve's magic sank into her skin, easing the pain that had lingered even after icing the bruised area.

"I heard what you told the vampire," Weaver said as she worked. "You put yourself in danger to save a handful of foolish humans. Why, I still do not understand. They are the ones who chased you from your nest and keep you from your family. They are not worth your attention."

Ruby fiddled with the sleeves of her borrowed shirt, tracing the hems with her fingers and playing with the buttons. "I can't not help them," Ruby said at last. "It's not in me."

"So said scores of heroes and legends before they died fighting a cause that was not their own. Will you be so foolish as to follow in their footsteps?"

Ruby frowned lightly. "It's not about being a hero. It's about helping others and doing whatever you can to make the world a better place. That's what you do too, isn't it? You stitch together wounds and mend injuries, ease hurts and bring healing. You help those in need."

"And I did it often enough to bring enemies to my nest—those who were furious my work undid their dark schemes and underhanded plots. But I lived long and well before having to take sanctuary here. You are naught but a flower bud, too easily plucked before you can truly bloom."

Weaver tapped Ruby's shoulder, indicating she was done.

Ruby turned back only to see Weaver's expression was creased in worry and unhappiness. Guilt rippled through Ruby like the silvery flash of a dragonfly's wings.

Weaver closed the container in her hands with a heavy sigh. "You have a good heart, child. Once upon a time, I would have been more than happy to stitch your wounds and send you on your way to finish whatever quest you set for yourself. But I am old, and I tire of finding good souls only to see their lives cut short. I do not wish for you to meet such a fate."

Ruby's guilt quickly transformed into remorse, and it sat like a rock in the pit of her stomach.

It was the same feeling she had felt earlier with Weiss—the feeling that she had screwed up badly and no matter what else happened, she had to do better from here on out.

Her insides quaked as she realized just how close she had gone to the edge this time. She knew where the line was. She had skirted it once or twice before. But tonight, she had almost crossed it entirely.

Ruby swallowed hard.

She couldn't let that happen again. No matter how bad she felt some days and no matter how bad things got, she still had things to do. She still had things she wanted to do.

For one thing, she still had to find out what happened to Uncle Qrow, and for another, she still hoped that one day she would be able to see Yang and her dad again. Yeah, they might not want to see her after she got them hurt and ruined their lives, but at the very least, Ruby had to go back at least once and apologize.

And then there was Weiss and Winter. Her friends. Two complete strangers who decided to accept her as family. A part of her still couldn't believe that they would be so willing to open their lives to her like that. They even dove straight into danger for someone like her.

Weiss's voice echoed in Ruby's mind.

"You're important, Ruby, and I won't let you go on any longer thinking otherwise."

It hadn't really sunk in before, but now?—Now it was as clear as a bell. A giant bell the size of Uncle Qrow in his true form, in fact.

And it made the wellspring of Ruby's silver light glow brighter than it had in years. Whereas earlier tonight her power had been a guttering candle, now it was a shining beacon—a warm, steady light giving hope to those who might be lost in the darkness.

A warm, steady light that had given hope to her.

And she owed that light to Weiss and Winter, her newfound family.

She hoped she could pay them back someday. No, she would pay them back someday. She didn't know how yet, but she'd figure something out. They deserved it.

A soft thunk drew Ruby's attention back to present as Weaver put down the container of medicinal salve.

The fae wiped her hands clean with a washcloth and said, "Show me your shoulder."

Ruby dutifully lowered the top edge of her borrowed shirt to show Weaver where the Grimm had dug its claws into her chest and upper arm.

Weaver examined the punctures. Then she pulled out a length of her spider silk bandages and carefully wrapped them around Ruby's wounds. She pulled a larger vial of liquid from her basket.

"This will burn." She waited long enough for Ruby to nod her understanding before soaking the bandages with most of the vial's contents.

Ruby's jaws locked tight, and a strangled sound escaped her lips. It felt like someone had doused each puncture in alcohol and rubbed them with coarse salt for good measure.

Weaver caught Ruby's chin, and Ruby's eyes fluttered open. "Breathe, Rosebud. It will only last a few moments longer."

Ruby let out a shuddering gasp and did as she was told.

Eventually, the bandages shimmered as they absorbed the magical properties of whatever potion Weaver had used, and the pain died down to a weak but steady throb.

Weaver gave a self-satisfied nod. "They will heal without scarring."

She leaned down to examine Ruby's leg once more, her expression grave. "Your attacker left a nasty gift behind, a minor curse to ensure that you wouldn't be able to flee far even if you managed to escape. I can destroy it, but I will need to use my venom. In plainer words, I will need to use one poison to eradicate another. I can give you a draught for pain but only after I am certain the curse has been fully destroyed. I dare not give it to you beforehand lest the two magics interfere with one another."

In other words, this was why Ruby wanted Weiss to be as far away as possible while Weaver treated Ruby's wounds.

Ruby asked curiously, "What about the fever potion I drank earlier?"

"That was merely a concoction made from ordinary medicinal plants with no trace of magic. While there are non-magical plants that can ease pain, I would not recommend them to you. They carry unpleasant side-effects, especially in the quantities you would need. But I leave the decision to you."

Ruby closed her eyes. This wouldn't be the first time she had to undergo Weaver's venom treatment. She shivered as a cold sweat broke out across her skin just remembering it, and she could already tell this time was going to be a lot worse. Even so, Weaver had never steered her wrong before, and advice from the fae should always be heeded if offered in goodwill and good faith.

Ruby took a deep breath and let it out. She opened her eyes. "Okay. Let's just get this over with."

Maybe later Ruby could get a hug from Weiss to make up for it. She was pretty sure Weiss's hugs had some sort of magic in them after all. A heart-soothing, soul-warming, mood-lifting sort of magic that never seemed to run out no matter how many hugs Ruby got.

Weaver laid a hand on Ruby's head and stroked it gently. "Brave child," she said with approval. "I will go and prepare. Rest until then."

Ruby nodded as she pulled Weiss's shirt back up to her chin and snuggled into it once more. Weiss's soft scent washed over her senses, and Ruby couldn't help but relax.

Things were going to suck in a few minutes, but at least she could take solace in the fact she would be able to see Weiss again soon after. Her heart felt warm just thinking about it.

---

The moment Weiss stepped through Silkie's portal, she found herself at the end of a long hallway.

Polished bronze sconces lit the walls at regular intervals, making the wooden walls seem warm and inviting, and the wooden floor was decorated by a forest green hallway runner with a simple but elegant gold lattice pattern.

"Come along, Summoner," Silkie said as she somehow appeared in front of Weiss despite having been behind her only seconds before.

Weiss cast one last look over her shoulder. Unfortunately, the portal had already been sealed, and all Weiss saw was the end of the hallway.

Her hands tightened into fists, and a nagging sense of disquiet filled her chest.

Every instinct was telling her that she should be back there with Ruby, not walking away from her. Even if all Weiss could do was hold Ruby's hand as Ruby endured whatever medical treatment Weaver had in store for her, Weiss wanted to be there. But at the same time, Weiss knew she had to respect Ruby's wishes. If that meant Weiss had to step away, then so be it. Ruby was the important one right now.

Weiss stood stock-still, taking a moment to try to tame her flaring emotions. When she had finally wrestled them into a semblance of control, she followed after Silkie, who led her farther down the hall to a familiar door of reddish wood.

Weiss's steps faltered as she took in the carved maple tree and the plethora of animals living in and around it. This was not where that door was supposed to be, and Weiss highly doubted that there would be two such doors in the apartment building.

The door swung open for its mistress and her guest, and closed softly behind them as they crossed the threshold.

Weiss paused by the doorway, truly taking in the room for what was probably the first time. The last few times Weiss and Ruby had been here, they hadn't lingered. They came in, left their offerings on the hearth, and retreated to the outer hallway immediately. As such, Weiss had never really gotten a good look at Silkie's inner sanctum until now.

It was a simple but homey place made mostly of wood. A few potted plants dotted the room, adding a bit of color to the neutral browns, tans, creams, and dark grays. A single table with two chairs sat in the center of the room several feet away from a stone hearth that had a low-burning fire within it. There was a bookshelf with glass doors in the corner filled with little knick-knacks, and opposite of the hearth was a set of tall wooden cabinets that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.

"Seat yourself, Summoner," Silkie said as she glided over to the cabinets in question. She pulled the farthest one open and started searching through it.

Not wanting to risk being rude even though sitting down in an unfamiliar environment was the last thing Weiss wanted to do, Weiss did as she was told. She chose the chair that would allow her to keep both Silkie and the exit within her sights. It was a pointless endeavor, really, since the entire building was part of Silkie's domain, but it still made Weiss feel marginally more at ease.

Silkie closed the cabinet with a soft thunk. She moved towards the table and placed a small bottle made of dark brown glass in front of Weiss. Weiss could tell there was some sort of liquid in it, but nothing beyond that.

The fae met and held Weiss's eyes.

"You hunger," Silkie said, her voice serious. "This is blood freely offered by a previous tenant in exchange for a few nights of sanctuary, and it was taken without duress. I offer it to you now."

Weiss glanced at the bottle but made no move to take it.

"In exchange for what?" she asked, trying to ignore the sudden dryness in her throat and the sharp pangs in her stomach at the thought of blood.

She had managed thus far because her worry for Ruby had far outstripped her hunger, but now that Ruby was no longer in sight, her body was telling her to feed.

Silkie smiled with approval. "Good. You have been listening to the little one." She tapped the bottle. "But fear not, Summoner, I offer this gift with no debt to you and yours."

Weiss tilted her head. "You don't call her 'Rosebud'." Not once had the household fae used the nickname.

Silkie's smile vanished.

"I do not," Silkie said coldly. "That is a name given to her by those who do not have her best interests at heart and those who wish her ill. I will not use the same name her enemies use."

And with that single statement, the majority of Weiss's reservations vanished. Weiss would still be cautious, of course, because ultimately Silkie was still one of the fae, but any ally of Ruby's was no enemy of hers.

Yet this whole situation was still decidedly out of the ordinary—or at least as ordinary as dealing with the fae ever was. Even the most friendly of fae were rarely so generous. So what was going on? What did Silkie want?

Weiss blinked as her thoughts suddenly reversed course.

What if Silkie didn't want anything? What if Silkie was being motivated by something other than greed or desire? What if she was being motivated by affection for the one she so fondly referred to as 'little one'?

And the longer Weiss thought about it, the more certain she became.

Silkie had promised long ago to protect Ruby, but it was clear now that that promise went far beyond a simple oath. Why else would Silkie suddenly show herself to Weiss if not to ensure Ruby got medical treatment as soon as possible?

Weiss had helped Ruby tonight. She had rescued Silkie's charge and brought her back home, likely saving her life. If Silkie's interest in Ruby went beyond mere duty—if the household fae truly cared for Ruby—then Weiss had done Silkie a favor. Therefore Silkie owed Weiss a debt for protecting Ruby when Silkie herself could not, which would more than explain Silkie's sudden generosity.

Assuming Weiss's hypothesis was correct, that is.

Weiss huffed inwardly, frustrated that there was no way to be absolutely certain.

But this silence had gone on long enough. If Weiss let it stretch any longer, she might be perceived as rude, which could be even more dangerous than simply diving into this unknown situation.

So Weiss steeled herself and took the glass bottle in hand. It fit comfortably in her palm and had a simple cork stopper, but Weiss could tell the bottle wasn't nearly as ordinary as it looked. There was some sort of enchantment on it. Perhaps some sort of stasis spell to keep its contents fresh?

She unstoppered it and immediately salivated at the coppery fragrance that drifted from the vessel. It smelled good. Not nearly as good as Ruby's blood, of course, but it was close enough. Another sniff told her that it definitely wasn't human blood.

"This is very considerate of you." Weiss couldn't say "thank you," but she could at least acknowledge the gift.

A faint smile crossed Silkie's lips, and she nodded gracefully. "And you have been very considerate towards my ward."

Weiss's brow rose. That was...unexpectedly forthright. In fact, those words practically confirmed Weiss's earlier hypothesis.

To Weiss's surprise, Silkie drew back the other chair and seated herself across from her. She waved her hand, and a ceramic teacup and saucer of steaming liquid appeared on the table before her. It smelled like milk tea.

The fae sipped at it daintily. Then she glanced pointedly at the bottle in Weiss's hand.

Weiss took the hint and finally lifted the vessel to her lips. She sampled the blood, rolling a bit of it on her tongue before consuming the rest. It was as good as she expected, though oddly light. It was a bit too light for her tastes and had an odd underlying flavor, but she could already feel herself absorbing its life energies. Her hunger abated, and her magical reserves slowly started replenishing themselves.

Weiss replaced the stopper and placed the bottle back on the table. "That was quite good." Another unspoken thank you.

Silkie's smiled, and she inclined her head.

She set her teacup back on its saucer, the soft clink sounding loud in the otherwise quiet room. She folded her hands.

"My kind are fickle and capricious," Silkie said abruptly, her voice low and thoughtful, "but in our fickleness, we are in some ways predictable. We are greedy. Living for so long means we are constantly seeking that which makes life even a little more interesting. A little more entertaining. A little more worthwhile. We are drawn to things that are rare, things that are powerful" —she paused and met Weiss's eyes squarely— "and things that are beautiful. And she is all of those things."

Weiss shifted uncomfortably.

Silkie's gaze never faltered. "You saved her, and if she were to have been lost, the world would have become a much darker place."

"...Indeed, it would."

A world without Ruby would be a horrible place. Weiss felt cold just thinking about it, and judging by the look in Silkie's eyes, she felt the same way.

"Such a deed does not deserve to go unrecognized. And so, I offer you the gift of information. Perhaps it will be a boon to you in the future."

Weiss blinked. "This is...rather unexpected."

Silkie nodded. "I imagine so."

She unfolded her hands and took another sip of her beverage before continuing.

"My kind are powerful," she said at last, "but we are all bound by rules in ways your kind are not. We cannot tell falsehoods. We must repay debts. We must keep our promises. You know these already."

Weiss nodded.

"But there are other rules, and they bind us in ways that are not immediately obvious. My kind, for example. Although I am powerful within my realm, I am greatly limited elsewhere. Here, I can protect her, but beyond my domain, I can do very little. When the branching fates finally intertwine and the powers that be seek her out, I will be able to do very little to stop them."

Weiss's eyes sharpened. "Who or what is after her, and why do they want her?"

"That is not something I can answer unless you were willing to pay a much higher price, and I can assure you it would be a price you would not wish to pay," Silkie said gently. "In exchange for having almost limitless potential in my realm, I am sworn to neutrality. I do not meddle with the jostling powers or clashing intentions of others. I can only remain here and offer respite for those who need shelter from the storm."

Was Silkie speaking in generalities or was this her way of warning Weiss that there was indeed a storm brewing?

Somehow, Weiss was inclined to believe the latter.

"Why are you telling me this?" Weiss asked quietly.

Silkie smiled. "Because the little one has given me unending warmth since the crow first brought her to me. She has grown, but she is still so young—too young to face the vying powers that seek her on her own. She deserves an ally. Someone who will not betray her no matter what."

Weiss froze. "You believe someone will betray her?"

Silkie lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. "I believe that there are many powers who would be more than willing to take her and use her to accomplish their own goals. And I believe there are those who would say anything in order to convince her to accept their cause. And while some of them might mean well, others do not have her best interests at heart. And of course there is the crow." Silkie's expression hardened for the briefest instant before returning to normal. "You fit into none of those categories. You are not her enemy."

She met Weiss's gaze. "You asked me why I am sharing so much with you. It is because you bring her something I never could. Her light is brighter and warmer, when for the longest time, it had been dimming. And for that, it is worth being generous."

Weiss blinked, and she was appalled to find her cheeks were flushing with heat. A strange sense of awkwardness washed over her, and she shifted in her seat.

"It's the other way around," Weiss said, glancing away. "She's the one who's warm and bright."

Silkie smiled and said nothing, making Weiss feel even more unbalanced than before.

Then Silkie suddenly canted her head as though listening to something. "The Weaver requests my presence," she said.

Weiss bolted upright in her seat, alarm jolting through her. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Ruby?"

Silkie immediately shook her head. "Peace, Summoner. The little one is fine. The Weaver merely requires some assistance."

"Then perhaps I could…" Weiss started.

The fae was already shaking her head. "Patience. There will be more than enough for you to do later."

Weiss frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

Silkie waved her hand, and her door swung open to reveal an unexpected yet no longer surprising sight.

Instead of the first floor lobby or the hallway they had just passed through, Weiss could see Ruby's kitchenette through the doorway.

"You may wait for her in her apartment. However, be warned that it may take some time before her treatment is complete. So do not be alarmed if you end up waiting longer than expected."

Weiss knew a dismissal when she heard one. However, before she stepped through the door, she said, "I've one last question. Earlier, you said you gave Ruby 'a gift of time'."

"I did. Her injuries this time were grave. It is likely she will be unable to walk for some time, even with the Weaver's mending skills. It would be unfortunate for her to lose her human job so I've altered the flow of time within my domain. Time will slow to a crawl outside this building until the little one is healed enough to step outside on her own two feet. Only then will the enchantment end."

But wait, then what would happen to Winter?

"Can beings from outside still enter? And what would happen if someone inside the building decided to leave?" Weiss asked.

Silkie tilted her head. "Beings from outside?"

"My sister. She's…"

"Ah, the spirit. You are aware of her presence now?"

Weiss fought the urge to grumble. Did everyone know about Winter except herself?

Silkie continued, heedless of Weiss's internal pique, "I will open a small gateway and send one of my familiars to guide her into the building. As for leaving, the moment you step out of my domain, you step out of the flow of time."

In other words, weeks might pass for Ruby even if Weiss was only outside the building for a few seconds, and Weiss did not want to leave Ruby alone for that long, not when there was a chance the Grimm had left behind that cursed poison of theirs.

"Which is why I have a task for you."

Weiss blinked, and her brow rose. "A task?"

"I will provide you with blood during the time you are here until the moment you leave. In exchange, you will remain within the apartments and make sure the little one stays off her feet and rests properly. She is liable to push herself too hard too soon otherwise, unless someone watches over her."

Weiss snorted softly, and a fond smile tugged at her lips. "Indeed. She can be quite a handful."

"Indeed," Silkie echoed with a smile of her own.

The urge to thank Silkie rose to her throat, but Weiss choked back the words. Instead, she straightened and bowed her head low in respect and gratitude. Silkie accepted the bow with a gentle nod.

A mixture of warmth and utter relief spread through Weiss's chest, knowing that this was the being who had been watching over Ruby all these years in lieu of that absent uncle of hers.

Ruby hadn't been entirely alone. Someone did care about her, and they cared about her enough to come up with this ridiculous "task" to ensure Ruby had someone with her while she recovered, even if it meant taking on an extra obligation to provide a visiting vampire with blood for some unknown length of time.

It was such a little thing, but it made Weiss feel so incredibly glad.

---

PART II

When Winter arrived at the apartments, a small, nearly invisible creature met her on the roof. It was one of Silkie's sylphs, one of the air elementals that served as Silkie's eyes and ears beyond her domain.

It evidently found Winter's new form to be rather interesting for the moment it saw her, it flew around her excitedly and was now hovering by her shoulder as it summoned a small, dust-filled whirlwind to guide Winter through the halls.

It made Winter wonder offhandedly if the sylphs ever helped Silkie keep the building clean. Perhaps they used their powers to replace modern vacuums. This one seemed to be well practiced in its task after all, and it even seemed to be having fun sending its little dust devil this way and that.

Winter didn't know why she suddenly had to be guided into the building, but she didn't question it. Silkie had always been cordial regarding her visits; the least Winter could do was go along with this small alteration in how she entered the premises.

She followed the sylph's wordless directions until a strange current suddenly jolted through her. She stumbled to a halt, gritting her teeth and clutching herself until the pain ceased. It was like she had just walked through some sort of electrical field, and it hurt nearly as much.

Yet it seemed passing through whatever she had just passed through had been part of the plan all along.

The sylph swirled up to the ceiling in happy, darting circles. Then her guide swooped down the hallway and hovered by a door that Winter knew hadn't been there before.

The door opened at her approach, and Winter stepped through after bowing her head respectfully to the sylph.

Winter ended up in the oddest of places, much to her private amusement: Ruby's laundry room. However, her amusement quickly faded as the full magnitude of what was about to occur finally set in.

Weiss was just on the other side of the wall. Her little sister. The only family member she truly ever loved, and the living proof that Winter had done something worthwhile during her short life.

Anxiety mixed with hope and dread, tying her insides in knots.

Would Weiss still be able to see her? Would they still be able to speak to one another? Or had they already missed their window of opportunity?

Winter glanced down at her hand, and a small tendril of relief rose up. Her hand still looked strangely solid when before Ruby had done whatever she had done, it had always been somewhat translucent.

A thin ray of light burst through her doubt. It was enough.

She gripped her fist tightly, straightened her spine, and slipped through the wall.

She paused upon entering the room and blinked in surprise, half wondering if she had mistakenly entered the wrong apartment.

It looked like Ruby's apartment, insofar as all her furniture looked familiar and were located in approximately the right places. However, the room was several times larger than it should be. It was like someone had taken the room and blown it up like a balloon, pushing the walls and ceiling out several extra feet in every direction.

Winter turned her attention towards the corner of the room.

Ruby was resting in her bed, while Weiss had pulled one of the dining chairs over and was seated beside her. It would have been a touching sight if Ruby's leg wasn't wrapped in silvery white bandages and being suspended from the ceiling by what looked like swaths of silk, likely to keep the limb elevated to ease any painful swelling.

Winter's heart tightened, and she hurried over.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. If Weiss couldn't hear her anymore…

She gave herself a rough shake and steeled herself. There was no sense in worrying about what-ifs. Either Weiss could still hear her or Winter would just have to wait until Ruby had recovered so that she could serve as an intermediary between the sisters once more. Or even better, perhaps Ruby would be able to recreate this phenomenon at some point, and Winter would get her second chance to speak with Weiss then.

The thought gave Winter a new sense of hope and was the last push she needed to finally speak. "Weiss."

The sheer relief that washed through Winter when Weiss stiffened at the sound of her name made Winter's lips tremble.

Weiss had heard her. Thank Dust, she had heard her.

Weiss turned, and suddenly Winter saw her own icy blue eyes mirrored back at her, the only difference being Weiss's scar. And for once those eyes weren't looking through her. They were looking at her. Weiss could still see her.

Elation bubbled up like a fountain, filling Winter's chest and making it difficult to string any words together, much less speak and give them form.

Weiss was doing no better, Winter realized ruefully when the silence had stretched for far too long. Her little sister seemed just as lost for words, her lips parting and flattening several times in succession as she, too, tried to figure out what to say.

They truly were sisters.

Winter took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out.

It was strange, she mused distantly to herself. She might not have a physical body anymore, but some memories remained entrenched regardless. She wasn't actually breathing in any air, but the energy that made up her body still reacted according to her expectations, expanding and condensing as though she still had a pair of lungs, which in turn, helped soothe her nerves.

And now that Winter was calmer, she noticed that Weiss was cradling Ruby's hand in her own. A split second later, her brow quirked up when she realized Ruby was wearing one of Weiss's shirts.

Interesting.

Meanwhile, Weiss finally pressed her lips shut. She turned towards the bed and slipped Ruby's hand back under the blanket. Then she rose and tucked the blanket gently around Ruby's shoulders.

Ruby didn't stir, her breathing still slow, steady, and trapped in the throes of sleep. Her expression was slightly pinched and her face was a little pale, but she still looked better than when Winter saw her last.

"How is she?" Winter asked quietly.

She and Weiss both needed a moment to grapple with their emotions, and catching each other up on what had happened during the intervening time would serve as the perfect diversion.

Weiss's shoulders tensed. Then she made a visible effort to relax and let out a soft huff.

"She's fine," Weiss replied just as quietly. "Or at least that's what they told me. She'll sleep a while longer due to the pain medication they gave her."

"'They'?"

"Silkie and the healer, another fae who apparently lives in the building."

"I assume the healer is why the room looks different?"

Weiss gave a short nod. "Yes. Silkie needed to make space so that Weaver—the healer—would be able to enter the room. She's an arachnid fae, half-humanoid and half-spider. Her legs alone could probably span this room and then some if she were to stretch them out to their full length."

"I see." No wonder the room was so much wider than before.

Weiss turned, and Winter saw she was wearing her business persona, that carefully constructed mask that was meant to hide Weiss's true thoughts from the world.

"You are well?" Weiss asked. "No one saw you when you stayed behind?"

Winter shook her head. "Becoming less visible has never been a problem. Few people have the ability to see beings such as myself, and the few that can have to be actively looking. Except Ruby, of course. For some reason, she has always been able to see me."

She shifted in place. "And somehow she has made it so you can perceive me as well."

Weiss let out a slow breath and closed her eyes. Winter could almost see her setting aside her more personal questions in favor of consolidating their information.

And of course, there was also the chance that she, too, was not quite ready to dive down that hole of emotions quite yet. Instead, the weight of their unspoken words and unanswered questions sat heavy in the air, like miles of water trapped behind a creaking dam. At some point, one of them was going to have to open the floodgates before the dam broke, but for now they carefully ignored them.

"Did anyone show up after we left?" Weiss asked after she opened her eyes once more.

"Yes," Winter answered, her expression grave. "The SCB showed up perhaps ten minutes after you left. Four vans, twelve personnel. And at least four of those agents were full-fledged Hunters, based on their uniforms."

Weiss stared at her in disbelief. "Eight agents and four Hunters for a single incident? Even though they barely have enough personnel to deal with their usual caseload?"

Winter nodded grimly. The sheer number of agents present at the scene was bad enough, but Hunters were usually only called in for major incidents and Grimm sightings, not for minor investigations.

"My thoughts exactly." Winter glanced down at Ruby, her lips turned down in a quiet frown. "But with that reaction time and the sheer waste of resources being diverted for such a seemingly insignificant event, it's no wonder Ruby is so careful when she goes out. Someone very high up must be keen on finding her."

Weiss scowled. "Indeed. Though if they're aware of what Ruby's silver light can do, it only makes sense."

Because not only were the Grimm enemies of all creation, but they were also incredibly difficult to kill. Powerful magic and Dust weapons could wound them, but even then it usually took a team of mages or Hunters to take down even a single Grimm. Ruby's light would be an undeniable game-changer and a potent tool for the SCB, so it was no wonder they would be looking for her.

Winter's stomach turned just thinking about what might happen if they got their hands on Ruby. Turn her into a weapon most likely. And chances were that Ruby would never be allowed to operate on her own again. Her powers made her too valuable to risk losing. She would be caged, tracked, and watched under the banner of "protection" for the rest of her life.

And if Winter was feeling this way…

Her eyes flicked over to Weiss, whose expression had only darkened, likely coming to the same unpleasant conclusions as Winter.

Then Weiss closed her eyes and drew in a tempering breath before opening them again. She brushed a few strands of hair from her brow and tucked them behind her ear with a trembling hand.

She turned to meet Winter's gaze, and Winter felt a heavy weight suddenly press down on her chest.

This was it. No more stalling. No more distractions.

Winter stood a little straighter.

Yet Weiss still didn't speak right away. She searched Winter's eyes, her expression lost and desperate for answers.

"I-I—" Weiss started, but her voice wavered so badly that she choked herself off.

Winter's heart ached sharply. She wanted so much to be able to hold her little sister or at least touch her shoulder—anything to offer even a sliver of comfort. Unfortunately, Winter was as powerless as always without a physical body. All she could do was watch helplessly as Weiss struggled to put her thoughts and feelings in order, and Winter hated every second of it.

Weiss crossed her arms as if to hold herself, every muscle pulled as taut as a drum. "How long have you been here? How do you know Ruby? How are you here?"

"I've always been here. Since the beginning," Winter said as gently as she could. "I met Ruby the same day you did."

Shock crossed Weiss's features before giving way to horrified understanding. "So you were there when…?" Weiss's hand rose as if to touch the scar that cut across her left eye.

Winter's jaw tightened at the memory. "Yes. I was there when that failure of a father tried to kill you."

Weiss swallowed hard. "For the longest time I thought that maybe, just maybe, he had hesitated at the end, and that's why his final strike only managed to catch me across my eye. But he didn't, did he?"

"No, he didn't."

A familiar, burning rage ignited within Winter like a wildfire, and with it came the acrid taste of failure.

She had failed to protect her little sister from the man who sired them.

Not their father. Never their father. That man didn't deserve the title of "father" for no true father would do as he did—attempt to turn not just one, but both of his daughters into tools to accomplish his dark deeds.

After all, what better way to control or eliminate one's enemies than to have one's pet vampire hypnotize them or turn them into blood thralls? And when his experiment failed with Winter, he simply turned to his other daughter to try again. He had a son to carry on his legacy; he didn't need his often rebellious daughters. And at least this way they would be useful to him.

Winter's hand unconsciously rose to the place where she had been bitten, and a flash of phantom pain seared the spot beneath her fingertips like a burning brand.

Even now she still remembered the mind-numbing fear she felt upon realizing Jacques Schnee's plans for her, and the blood-boiling pain that had raged through her body as the cursed magic that gave birth to vampires clashed with her own innate magic. Winter had not been strong enough to survive it. Thank goodness, Weiss had always been stronger than her.

"You saved my life," Weiss said abruptly, dragging Winter away from her memories.

Winter grimaced and shook her head. "I couldn't stop you from being changed. I couldn't stop him from hurting you."

She could only watch as her father's men took Weiss to the same chamber in which Winter had died only days before. Watch as her father's paid sorcerer ordered his own pet vampire to start Weiss's change. Watch as Weiss suffered in agony as the two opposing magics threatened to tear her apart from the inside out. Watch as Weiss survived the ordeal only to have the sorcerer attempt to bind her to their father so that she would never again be able to defy him.

But neither the sorcerer nor his vampire ever imagined Weiss would be so powerful so soon after her change, for newborn vampires usually required time to settle into their new abilities, but not so with Weiss.

As soon as Weiss realized what was happening, she fought and rose victorious. She shattered the binding on the vampire who turned her with her own magic and left him to slay the sorcerer who had kept him enslaved for so long. And then she summoned the strength to fight off their sire as he tried to erase his mistake.

"What are you talking about?" Weiss said, her tone fierce. "You left me your diary. You let me know that father and that sorcerer were planning something. Forewarned is forearmed. I was able to fight because I knew something wasn't right, especially after you suddenly disappeared. And that wasn't all you did, was it? The way Father's arm jerked when he was about to land that finishing blow..."

Winter remembered that moment well. She had grabbed the tip of her stolen saber, her father's chosen weapon, in a fit of desperation. It was only then that she realized that she could indeed influence the physical world if she bent her entire will to the task. She had only been able to hold on to it for a few seconds because the dark shadow in the enchanted blade immediately tried to consume her, but it was enough to throw off their father's attack, giving Weiss the chance to strike back.

"Yes, that was me," Winter admitted. "I only wish I had been able to do more."

"Winter, it was enough. More than enough. If that's what's keeping you here…"

Winter was quick to shake her head. "I don't know why I'm still here. I don't remember anything between dying and becoming what I am now."

Her voice softened. "But I do not regret staying. It has been an honor to watch you grow to become the woman you are today."

Weiss made a choked sound, and her eyes grew wet with unshed tears. "Winter, you can't just say things like that!"

Winter's lips curved up. "My apologies." But in truth, she wasn't sorry in the slightest. It felt so good to finally be able to tell Weiss everything she had been holding back all these years. It was as though a heavy weight had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders, and it was such a wondrous feeling.

Weiss took a half step closer, her hand outstretched. Winter instinctively reached back in spite of herself, and her heart shrank when their hands passed through one another.

Winter watched as a heartbroken look of disappointment crossed her sister's features, and her chest throbbed. Her fingers curled into her palms in frustration.

They were always so close and yet so far. Always just a little out of reach. Always just missing each other despite their best efforts.

Fate could be so cruel.

But fate also failed to take into account the existence of a smaller, simpler soul that had a penchant for turning common sense on its head and making the impossible somehow possible.

"...again," an exhausted voice mumbled.

Winter blinked and looked past her sister.

Ruby had wriggled her way free from her blankets and had scooted to the very edge of the bed. She reached out and rested her fingers against Weiss's hip. Her tired eyes met Winter's, and she offered her a small smile. Then a curtain of silver fire raced from Ruby's fingertips, completely enveloping Weiss from head to toe.

Ruby wet her lips and repeated, "Try again."

Weiss looked as surprised as Winter felt, but when she turned back to Winter, her eyes were shimmering with hope.

Winter swallowed, her own rising hope slowly overtaking her doubt and disbelief. She stepped forward with trembling arms and hesitantly wrapped them around her beloved sister. A jolt shot up her spine when she realized Weiss actually felt solid within her embrace.

Winter drew in a shaky breath and tightened her arms, pulling Weiss even closer. She heard a sharp intake of air before Weiss returned the favor, enveloping Winter in a tight hug of her own.

Overwhelmed by her jostling emotions, Winter buried her face against the top of Weiss's tresses.

She could touch her. She could touch her. She could touch her.

Her precious baby sister.

If Winter could shed tears, she was sure she would have started weeping by now. Instead, she sucked in another uneven breath and pressed a kiss to the crown of her little sister's head.

A soft whimper and an audible sniffle escaped Weiss, and Winter couldn't help but smile.

"I love you," Winter whispered, her words for Weiss and Weiss alone. Words that she had rarely been able to say in life now flowed freely from her lips long after her death.

Winter had squandered the years when showing her little sister love and affection would have been as easy as reaching out and wrapping her in an occasional embrace or exchanging a few kind words here and there. She would not do so again, not when she had finally been given a second chance.

Weiss's arms tightened, and her shoulders shook as she hid her face in the depths of Winter's embrace.

Winter didn't know how long they stood there, their arms wrapped around one another. However, at some point a soft, pained sound caught her attention. She lifted her head and saw Ruby curled in on herself, her eyes squeezed shut and her breathing ragged, with every ounce of her attention focused on keeping her silver light going.

Winter pulled away from Weiss in alarm. "Ruby, stop," she said sharply.

Weiss spun around, breaking her connection with Ruby, and the faint silver glow that had been enveloping her body went out like a candle.

Her teary eyes widened, and she swiped a sleeve across her eyes. "Ruby, stop. Stop!"

It was Weiss's voice that finally broke through.

Ruby let out a strangled gasp, and her own silver light faded.

"You foolish, foolish girl," Weiss said furiously. She knelt by the edge of the bed and brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen into Ruby's eyes.

Ruby grinned weakly. "Worth it," she said, her voice barely audible. Her eyes fluttered shut as she tried to catch her breath.

Weiss huffed even as she pressed a gentle hand to Ruby's brow. Ruby smiled even as her eyes remained closed.

"How are you feeling?" Weiss asked when Ruby's breathing had steadied.

Ruby opened her eyes. "I've been better," she admitted. "But I'm okay."

Weiss's lips twitched downward before smoothing back out. "Do you need anything? Food? Something to drink?"

Ruby shook her head.

"Are you sure?" Weiss pressed. "It won't take more than a couple minutes."

Ruby reached up to take Weiss's hand from her brow and brought it down to her cheek, lightly snuggling against it. Weiss's expression softened, and she shifted so that she could sit on the very edge of the bed. Ruby obligingly wriggled back to give her more room. At no point did Weiss make any effort to reclaim her hand.

"Naw, I'm good," Ruby said. "Not really hungry. Just tired."

Weiss's eyes narrowed. "'Just tired'?"

"Y-yes?" Ruby's gaze darted away and back.

Weiss simply waited, her expression never faltering.

It didn't take long for Ruby to wilt. "...And maybe a little hurty," she admitted at last. "But only a little! Really."

Weiss sighed and stroked Ruby's cheek with her fingers, making Ruby smile and snuggle closer against Weiss's palm.

"Please don't try to sugar-coat things, Ruby. If you're feeling unwell, you need to let us know," Weiss said softly.

"I know, but I really am okay. Weaver does super great work. She can mend or heal just about anything. My back doesn't even hurt anymore. It's just my leg and my shoulder that ache a bit."

Winter moved closer to the bed, catching Ruby's attention. "My apologies if we woke you. Were we speaking too loudly?"

Ruby shook her head. "I was already sorta awake. And listening to your voices was nice." Her voice got quieter. "I'm glad I didn't have to wake up alone."

"And you won't," Weiss told her. "Silkie explained to me what 'a gift of time' means, so we're not going anywhere. You're stuck with us for the time being."

Winter's brow rose. She supposed she was missing something, but she remained silent, not wanting to interrupt the flow of conversation. She would ask Weiss to fill her in later.

Ruby's forehead creased. "But what about when you get hungry?"

"It's already been taken care of," Weiss said smoothly, "so don't worry about it. All you need to do is worry about yourself."

Ruby searched Weiss's eyes before finally nodding. "Okay."

"How long were you awake?" Winter asked curiously.

Ruby suddenly scowled, her expression fiercer than Winter had ever seen it before. "Your dad is a poopy-head," Ruby growled.

Weiss snorted, and Winter chuckled.

"I use stronger words," Winter informed her with a smile.

"You aren't mad, are you? That I overheard?" Ruby asked, her gaze shifting between them.

"Of course not," Weiss replied instantly.

"Indeed. It was our fault for not taking our conversation elsewhere," Winter added.

Ruby glanced between them a moment longer before finally relaxing, likely deciding to take their words at face value.

She let go of Weiss's hand, but not before giving it one last squeeze. Then she reached out, her hand wreathed in silver light once again, and wrapped her fingers around Winter's.

"Shoulda told you this earlier, but thanks for coming for me," Ruby said.

Winter smiled and cupped both hands around Ruby's. "Thank you for calling me." She glanced at Weiss before meeting Ruby's eyes again. She squeezed Ruby's hand tightly. "And thank you for giving me back my sister."

It was a gift that words alone could never repay, but words were all Winter had at the moment, even if she had to struggle to get them past the swelling emotion in her chest.

Weiss shifted closer, resting her hand where Winter's met Ruby's. And for one brief moment, their little family was one.

"And I second that," Weiss said, making a valiant effort to keep her voice from wavering. "Thank you so much, Ruby."

Ruby beamed even as her cheeks turned pink.

Their hands parted then, but for Winter at least, the warmth remained like a steadily burning hearth. A missing piece of her heart finally slid back into place where it belonged. Winter was finally, truly home.

---

Chapter 7.5 - Epilogue

PART A

Weiss sat at Ruby's bedside, quietly holding Ruby's hand as Ruby's second dose of pain medication took effect.

Before she left, Weaver had left several small vials for Ruby in case the pain became too much, but Ruby had been reluctant to take them. It took several entreaties from both Weiss and Winter before Ruby finally gave in.

"Is she finally asleep?" Winter asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Weiss let out a sigh and nodded.

"Most likely," she said in the same tone of voice. She glanced at her sister. "I still can't believe you let Ruby call you 'Snoopy'."

She had found out that little fact only moments ago during the same conversation in which they tried to get Ruby to take her painkillers.

"Why don't you want to take the medicine Weaver left you?" Weiss had asked Ruby, exasperated by her stubbornness.

Ruby had turned her head away and draped an arm across her eyes. "'Cause it'll make me sleep really hard." Her voice went low and rough. "And I'm tired of all the nightmares."

Winter surprised both of them when she suddenly asked, "And do those nightmares have anything to do with the SCB?"

Ruby had dropped her arm, her eyes wide in shock. "How'd you—?"

"I stayed behind after the fight," Winter said plainly. "They showed up en masse."

"Oh…" Ruby swallowed and forced a chuckle. "Snoopy's being a snoop again."

Weiss had blinked once. Twice. Then her mouth dropped open, and her gaze shot to Winter. "You're Snoopy?!"

Weiss only had to remember the conversation, and her head was hurting again.

Winter smirked. "Come now, Weiss, no need to take it so seriously. Besides, I've never had a nickname before. Admittedly, it took some time to get used to, but now it's almost endearing."

Weiss let out a low groan. "It's so undignified and unbecoming."

Winter chuckled softly, and Weiss's annoyance faded into surprise.

Winter had never been particularly jovial or lighthearted in life, so it was a little strange to see her like this. Yet at the same time, it was a welcome change.

Weiss smiled at her sister before sighing and rubbing her aching eyes. "I still don't know how any of this is possible though."

How could she suddenly see Winter when she couldn't before? What had Ruby done?—which, of course, all tied into the much larger question of what exactly was Ruby. In all of Weiss's long years of existence, she had never seen someone with the ability to vaporize a horde of Grimm with a single blast of light. Or petrify one of the greater Grimm for that matter.

"I have a theory about that actually," Winter said.

Weiss glanced up, her eyebrows raised. "You do?"

Winter nodded. "Do you remember the Planar Theory of the Origin of Magic?"

Weiss blinked. "Yes, but...how do you know that? That's a relatively modern school of thought."

Winter cocked an eyebrow. "Your tendency to leave your reference books out until you're absolutely positive that you won't need them again has been very convenient for me. When I'm bored, I can just pop into your office or library and read from wherever you left off. Lifting a book off a shelf wastes more energy than it's worth, but turning a page or two is easy enough."

Weiss's eyes widened. "That was you?"

She had lost count of how many times she had wandered back to her books only to find them open to a different set of pages than the ones she could have sworn she left off on.

"To be fair, I did try to flip back to the correct pages. But sometimes you returned much sooner than expected or I misjudged how much energy I had left and couldn't quite manage it."

"So many things are starting to make sense now," Weiss muttered.

She had always been aware that strange things happened around her more often than mere coincidence could explain, but at some point, she simply stopped worrying about it.

But now the memories returned one by one. Instances when her enemies inexplicably stumbled mid-battle. Vases, picture frames, or other fragile items suddenly tumbling to the ground, distracting Weiss's opponents long enough for her to turn the tables. And of course, moments like when her father's weapon seemed to get caught mid-air by some invisible force.

Warmth bloomed in Weiss's chest, leaving it achingly full. Winter had been protecting her all along.

"Weiss?" Winter asked, her voice threaded with concern.

Weiss shook her head. "Nothing."

She shifted her thoughts back to Winter's previous question.

"The Planar Theory of the Origin of Magic speculates that the force we recognize as magic is energy drawn from a different plane. The thing that separates mages and normal humans is that mages have an innate ability to draw on and manipulate that energy. Some scholars go so far as to theorize that there's a different plane for each type of magic to explain why magic specialization exists. A mage can only draw on certain types of magic because those are the only planes they are capable of accessing."

"Indeed," Winter said with a curt nod. "But what if the theory didn't only apply to magic? What if it applied to realms of existence as well?"

She held one hand above the other and alternated them as though climbing down the rungs of a ladder with each new entry. "There's your plane, there's the plane I used to exist on, and there's the plane I exist on now. There's the plane in which the fae dwell, which both overlaps and exists separately from the human plane. And there's even the plane where the shadow Grimm exist."

She let her hands fall.

"Accordingly, perhaps conventional wisdom is wrong. Perhaps the Grimm don't transform so much as they use the energy they absorb to travel from plane to plane in order to reach this one, and their 'transformation' is actually them finally fully manifesting on this plane."

Weiss nodded slowly. She could certainly see the parallels between how shadow Grimm went from being near invisible to visible and Winter's sudden clarity of form.

Winter continued, "If we were to continue that train of thought, Ruby has said time and time again that she is a 'light,' and what is light but energy given visible form? Perhaps her light—or rather, her unique brand of magic—is something that is able to reach across other planes. And perhaps reaching across other planes also includes being able to transfer enough energy to shift a being from one plane to another if she so wills it. Or in the case of Grimm, to be able to destroy them without Dust or traditional magic."

Winter gave a half-shrug. "Of course, this is all conjecture at the moment. But if my theory is correct, the reason you can perceive my presence now is because Ruby somehow brought me closer to your plane. Or perhaps I am on your plane and the only reason I'm not more tangible like the Grimm is because I don't actually have a body anymore."

Weiss hummed in thought. "That...actually makes a lot of sense."

Winter lifted her shoulder once more. "Again, it's only a theory. But it fits what I've experienced thus far."

"It's definitely worth investigating further. And you just came up with that?"

Winter offered her a wry grin. "Even I'm not that good. No, this is merely the summation of what I've been theorizing ever since I met Ruby. Not being able to interact with the world around you leaves you a lot of time to think about things."

All at once, Weiss's mood fell. A cavernous hole opened up in her chest just thinking about all the centuries Winter had spent unseen and unheard, and it hurt.

"Was it terribly lonely?" Weiss asked quietly.

Winter's expression softened. "I admit it could be. And there were times when it was particularly hard, especially when you were going through rough times and there was absolutely nothing I could do for you."

Then she smiled. "But times have gotten better. Ruby has been a most welcome companion these past few months."

Weiss glanced down at the young woman in question, and a tender smile rose to her own lips. "Yes, she has that effect on people."

"Indeed, she does."

Weiss still had Ruby's hand in her own, and she couldn't resist the urge to gently stroke Ruby's knuckles with her thumb.

She would have to let go eventually so that she could take a shower and change into some clean clothes, but she wanted to remain a little longer. Ruby had been absolutely convinced that Weiss holding her hand would help ward off the worst of her nightmares, and Ruby only promised to take her painkillers if Weiss promised to hold her hand until she fell asleep in return. It was a silly (if not sweet) thought, but Weiss wasn't about to gainsay her, not when Ruby sounded so heartbroken about not getting any hugs tonight because of her injuries.

But at least Weiss had gotten a second promise out of the deal.

"Do you want to talk about them?" Weiss had asked earlier in regards to Ruby's nightmares.

Ruby shook her head. "Not now. Not when they're so close. But…" —she swallowed— "if you really want to hear about them, I promise I'll tell you later. A-and I think you deserve to hear about a lot of other stuff as well, especially after everything that happened tonight. So, um...just ask. And if it's something I can talk about, I'll tell you. And that includes everything. Like the SCB, and my family, and why I had to leave home and stay with Uncle Qrow."

Weiss's back straightened, and she leaned forward intently. "I'll be holding you to that."

Ruby gave her a weak but honest grin. "I want you to."

A light, bubbly feeling filled Weiss's chest at the memory, and her smile grew in spite of herself.

Perhaps it was a bit frivolous of her, but Ruby's trust never ceased to make her feel good. Whole. Full and warm in a way she never thought possible.

It was a feeling Weiss wished she could bottle up and keep with her whenever she knew she might not be able to see Ruby for a few days so that she would never run out of warmth.

It was a little while longer before Weiss realized that Winter had fallen quiet. When Weiss looked up, Winter seemed to be studying her.

"Is something the matter?" Weiss asked.

Winter tilted her head as though considering something. Then she gave herself a decisive nod.

"Nothing's the matter per se. I'm only curious as to how long you intend to drag this out."

Weiss knitted her brows. "Excuse me? I'm afraid I don't understand."

Winter let out a heavily ladened sigh. "Then I will be blunt. When are you going to tell her you love her?"

Weiss's thoughts screeched to a halt, and her entire body froze. It took far too long for Weiss's mind to restart, and by then, it was too late for any reasonable sort of denial.

But hopefully she could still salvage this conversation. Or at least keep it from venturing further than it should.

She said very carefully, "Ruby knows I care about her. We're family."

Winter frowned. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Weiss looked away. "Do I?" she asked a little too sharply.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Winter's gaze bored into the side of her head, but Weiss refused to look back.

Finally, Winter sighed again. "Weiss."

Memories were strange things, Weiss realized as Winter's tone of voice abruptly sent her back in time. With just a single word, Weiss suddenly felt like she was eight years old again and Winter had just caught her jumping on the bed or dodging her lessons by hiding in the gardens.

Weiss definitely didn't miss this feeling.

She blew out a frustrated breath. "What do you want me to say, Winter?"

Winter cocked an eyebrow. "You love her."

"Perhaps you're overthinking things."

"Really," Winter said drolly. "Then how do you explain the fact that you're constantly rearranging your schedule for her? She shows you her new schedule for the next two weeks, and you immediately start planning your evenings around it."

Weiss's cheeks reddened. "She's lonely, and she'd spend entirely too much time alone if I didn't! Plus, we're friends. And family. I have an obligation to check in on her and make sure she's doing alright."

"Uh-huh…" Winter didn't sound nearly as convinced as she should. "You cook for her."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Her diet is a mess. If I didn't cook for her once in a while, she'd probably fill up on empty calories."

"You let her hug you without warning."

"It's necessary for her physical and emotional well-being," Weiss said.

Then her tone softened with worry. "And I'm fairly certain that she suffers from touch-starvation. If the occasional embrace can help her feel better, then why not?"

Winter's own expression softened briefly, but she wasn't quite ready to concede her point. She raised her eyebrow. "Except you threatened to outright disembowel the last person who tried to wrap their arm around you, and you threatened to sue the person before that for simply touching you without your permission."

Weiss made a sound of derision. "They deserved it."

Greedy sycophants, the both of them.

Winter sighed. "She smiles at you, and you smile back. She takes your hand, and you don't let go unless she does first. You smile whenever you get a text or call from her, and she makes you laugh. You let her fall asleep on you when you're on the couch together, and you're willing to sleep in the same bed as her." Winter's voice steadily gained momentum with each new addition before halting abruptly. "And you've never done any of that before."

Weiss's cheeks flushed a shade darker. She hadn't realized Winter had been around all those times. She fought the urge to hide her face in her hands and groan.

"Suddenly, Ruby's nickname for you makes sense," she grouched.

It surprised a laugh out of Winter.

"I suppose so," she said, still chuckling a bit. "But I don't mean to be. I do try to give you your privacy whenever I can as long as it doesn't negatively affect my ability to keep you safe."

Winter met Weiss's eyes. "Your safety is and has always been my priority. If you're out and about, I keep an eye on you from a distance so that Ruby isn't distracted by my presence. And when you're here, I usually make myself scarce, though that doesn't mean I don't poke my head in once in a while to make sure everything's alright."

Winter's expression sombered. "And even though I do try to give you privacy, I was there for all the important moments. So I know you've never let yourself simply enjoy someone's presence like you do hers. You were private and always kept others at a distance."

She gestured towards Ruby. "Tell me you don't treat her differently. Tell me she doesn't make you happy."

The urge to give Winter the silent treatment rose and fell in the span of a single breath. Weiss did not want to have this conversation. But at the same time, she respected her sister far too much to ignore her, especially since Winter had already spent several lifetimes virtually alone.

Weiss stared blankly ahead for a long while, her mind a mess of half-formulated thoughts and incomplete emotions.

"Regardless of however I may or may not feel," she said at last, "it doesn't matter in the end." Her lips flattened briefly. "Ruby is young, practically a child. And thanks to that no-good uncle of hers, she's lost out on years of social and emotional development. She's still asking me questions about whether friends are allowed to do this or that when she shouldn't have to. She should be free to do whatever she wants without fear of reprisal."

Winter inclined her head. "True. But I would also argue that she isn't nearly as young as you make her out to be. If anything, she was forced to grow up much faster than she should have. And the bottom line is, there is no doubt that she loves you."

Weiss snorted, a harsh sound filled with disdain. Who it was aimed at, even she didn't know. "Any affection she has for me is likely due to circumstance more than anything else." A hard lump formed in her throat at her own words and her chest tightened painfully, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. "I was the only one there for her. Of course, she grew attached to me. I could have been anyone, and she likely would have latched on all the same."

Weiss finally glanced up only to recoil at the look on Winter's face.

Winter's eyes were as hard as ice as she said in clipped tones, "Just this once, I'm going to let that slide because I know you well enough to recognize you didn't mean it. However, don't you ever spew that sort of drivel again. Am I clear?"

She didn't wait for a response. "Deny them if you must, but don't you dare belittle the feelings you two share. Ruby deserves better than that. And so do you.

"Yes, she could have met anyone. But she didn't. She met you, and it was you who took an interest in her, you who spent time with her, you who held her through her nightmares, and you who wiped away her tears. And it is still you who takes time out of your schedule to listen to her troubles, you who looks out for her general well-being, and you who makes her smile the brightest. Perhaps your initial meeting was by chance, but everything that came after was a choice. Tell me I'm wrong."

Weiss couldn't because deep in her heart, she knew Winter was right. She just didn't want to admit it because admitting it meant she would have to face all the feelings she had been trying to push away for so long.

Weiss swallowed and turned away, but doing so only put her face to face with Ruby.

Silkie's words from earlier came back with a vengeance. "We are drawn to things that are rare, things that are powerful, and things that are beautiful. And she is all of those things."

Silkie had been speaking of the long-lived fae, but her words had resonated uncomfortably with Weiss.

Ruby was rare. She was a blessing for anyone who had the good fortune to ever meet her. And although Weiss didn't care much about power, even she had been astounded by Ruby's silver light, not only because it could vanquish the Grimm in the blink of an eye, but also because it allowed her to meet Winter once again. It let Weiss embrace her sister for the first time in centuries.

And Weiss had never met anyone as beautiful as Ruby. Not just physically though if pressed, Weiss would have to admit that Ruby was indeed lovely on that front as well. No, it was her heart and soul that shined the brightest. Even now, Weiss felt something loosen within her as her eyes traced Ruby's features.

Ruby's heartbeat pulsed against Weiss's skin through their joined hands, a steady cadence as soothing as a crackling fire on a cold winter's day. It only served to remind Weiss of something else she had been trying not to think about.

This was why Weiss avoided touching people unless absolutely necessary. Hearing someone's heartbeat through touch was just too close, too intimate, and too invasive for her.

But Weiss couldn't seem to stop herself when it came to Ruby. Ruby's heartbeat was a rhythmic song with a gentle refrain that said, I'm here. I'm alive. I'm with you, in ways that words alone couldn't. It was a song that Weiss could listen to for hours without tiring, and it always managed to smooth out the roughened edges of her soul.

"You know, Ruby was giving up," Winter said suddenly.

Weiss's growing calm shattered in an instant.

Her gaze shot up. "What?"

Winter's expression was serious. "After she got attacked by the kelpie, she had given up. She was injured, exhausted, and I imagine her previous fight with the Grimm was affecting her as well. She didn't want to fight anymore. She was moments away from curling up and simply waiting for whatever might come."

Winter met Weiss's eyes squarely. "Then I mentioned your name. And when I did, she picked herself back up."

She stepped closer and rested her hand on Weiss's shoulder. Weiss barely felt a tinge of coolness through her clothing, and even that might have been more her imagination than reality, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

Winter continued, "You were right in the fact that Ruby doesn't have very many normal life experiences to guide her forward. And perhaps love beyond that of family and friends isn't something she's ready for or even open to. Only time will tell. But the truth still stands. Ruby was about to give up, but in the end, she chose to live for you. She continued fighting with her injuries for you. Tell me that doesn't mean anything."

Weiss looked down. "I can't. You know I can't. But Winter" —the hand that wasn't cradling Ruby's tightened into a fist— "I—she—"

She trailed off. She couldn't finish. Didn't know how to finish.

Finally, she swallowed hard and drew in a shaky breath. "I-I need to think about this." She met her sister's eyes, begging her to understand.

Winter searched her expression, and her gaze softened.

"Then think about it, sister. Take all the time you need. I just want you to remember one thing."

Weiss's brow wrinkled in question.

"There is nothing wrong with seeking your own happiness. You have punished yourself for long enough. You have denied your own happiness for long enough. Let the past go and move on."

Weiss stiffened and gazed at her sister in shock. Then she looked away, her jaw clenched.

Finally, after several long moments, she responded tersely, "I will take your words into consideration." Her voice dropped as she relented ever so slightly. "That is all I can promise at the moment."

"And that is all I ask." Winter glanced at Ruby's sleeping form. "Will you rest with her tonight?"

Weiss hesitated. She shouldn't, especially not with the sort of feelings she had right now. It felt wrong somehow.

But then she remembered the last time Ruby had been attacked by the Grimm and the dark nightmares that followed. No power in Remnant could make her leave Ruby to suffer alone, not if there was something she could do to ease that suffering.

She gave her sister a short nod and reluctantly released Ruby's hand, tucking it back under her blankets like she had before. She rose from her chair and stepped from the room to get ready for bed. It took Weiss a little over a half-hour to shower, change, and dry her hair.

When Weiss returned to the main room, she flipped off the light and made her way back to the foot of Ruby's bed. She climbed in carefully, taking great care not to jostle the mattress or bump Ruby's injured leg. She slipped halfway between the sheets and glanced at Winter.

"What will you do now?" she whispered.

"I might take a stroll," Winter replied in the same tone of voice.

"You can't leave the apartments." Weiss quickly explained about Silkie's gift of time.

"I see. Well then, perhaps I'll simply borrow one of your books and read to pass the time."

"Do you need me to fetch it for you or…?"

Before Weiss even finished her sentence, Winter drifted over to the bookcase. One of the books slid off the shelf and floated in the air beside her.

Winter smiled. "Thank you, but no, I think I'll be fine for tonight at least. I don't know how long this new power will last, but I might as well take advantage of it while I can. I think I will head down to the lobby since Silkie keeps the lights on all night. I don't think she'll mind lending me the front desk to prop my book on."

Weiss nodded. "Likely not. Silkie is quite accommodating."

"Indeed she is."

There was an awkward silence as both sisters seemed at a loss for words.

Weiss gripped the sheets draped over her lap and wet her lips. "Winter?"

Winter met her eyes.

"I'm glad you're here. And thank you. For everything."

Winter's gaze softened, and her expression warmed. "You're welcome. Good night, sister."

"Good night, Winter."

With that, Winter headed towards the door. The door unlocked itself and swung open. Winter gave Weiss one last nod before closing and re-locking the door behind her.

Weiss let out a heavy, exhausted sigh. She scooted further down until she was lying even with Ruby, rolled over, and propped herself up on her elbow.

Her brow furrowed lightly. Was it just her or did Ruby's expression seem somewhat pinched?

Weiss hesitated and then reached out to brush Ruby's tousled hair from her eyes, her fingertips lingering at the soft tresses at Ruby's temple.

"I'm here," she whispered, "and I promise to stay. So sleep well and know that you'll never be alone."

Not tonight. Not while the Grimm might still have their tainted claws latched onto Ruby's soul.

Weiss didn't know if Ruby could hear her promise in the throes of sleep, but in case she could, Weiss hoped her words would bring Ruby at least a little more comfort.

Weiss laid back down, making sure to tuck the blankets securely around Ruby's shoulders once more. Then she searched for Ruby's hand and cradled it in her own.

She made a promise after all. She couldn't hold Ruby like she did that first sleepover because of Ruby's leg, but at the very least she could hold Ruby's hand throughout the night to remind her that she wasn't alone.

"Good night, Ruby," she said, her whisper even quieter than before.

She closed her eyes.

Ruby's pulse beat softly against her skin like a gentle lullaby, and eventually, she drifted off to sleep.

---

PART B

Director James Ironwood rubbed his face tiredly as he signed off on another set of documents.

He glanced at the seemingly never-ending stack of papers on his desk and grimaced.

In all honesty, he should have gone home hours ago, but his old injuries were acting up. Even if he wanted to rest, he knew the pain wouldn't let him, and he wasn't quite desperate enough to resort to taking the pain medication his primary physician prescribed to him. He hated having to rely on pain pills just to get a good night's sleep.

His computer chimed.

Grateful for the chance to avoid shuffling through another set of documents, he rolled his chair over to his computer and opened his inbox.

His eyes widened. It was an Argent Report.

He opened it immediately and skimmed the header. The incident had happened not too long ago.

He read the report, focusing on the most pertinent information.

Then he leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his chin in thought.

They almost found her.

Ruby Rose, codename Argent 2. A child who went missing after an unauthorized raid on her home.

His prosthetic fist tightened to the point where he could hear it creaking, and his jaw tightened at the memory.

He had been betrayed by his own agents, a group of traitors who decided a little extra money was worth trying to kidnap a child from her own home.

He had cleaned house after that, interrogating every member of the organization to weed out the perpetrators. Thankfully, once a few of the perpetrators had been caught, they were more than willing to take the others down with them.

Unfortunately, James never did find out where the money was coming from, and there had been a lot of it. The traitors had been fully supplied with unregistered vehicles of the same make and model of the ones the SCB usually used, weapons and other equipment, and even a few magical artifacts and potions on top of the payments they were supposed to have received once the "package" had been delivered.

None of the ex-agents involved had ever heard a name or seen a face. In other words, the main culprit was still at large which was why it was so important to bring Argent 2 into custody. As long as she was out there, she was in danger.

He turned his attention back to the report, reviewing it once again more slowly.

She was getting more powerful.

The agents and Hunters had found traces of Grimm everywhere at the scene and even the remains of one of the greater Grimm. The girl would be such an asset to the SCB once they managed to earn her trust.

Perhaps she would even be able to rein in that fractious older sister of hers who seemed dead set on butting heads with the SCB at every turn. Not a month went by without James reading at least one or two reports about how Yang Xiao Long had stuck her head where it didn't belong—yet again—and ended up interfering with an SCB case or investigation. Although he couldn't deny that her anger towards the SCB was justified, it was getting to the point where her constant interference was becoming a serious problem for his agents. He had left her alone thus far, but if she continued causing problems, he would have no choice but to start taking action against her.

James briefly wondered if Yang Xiao Long's deep dislike of the SCB was partially influenced by her step-mother, Summer Rose, codename Argent 1. Argent 1 had always been reluctant to tie herself to the SCB though she was willing to work with them on occasion. The SCB didn't even know Argent 1 had a daughter until the girl's powers suddenly erupted in the middle of the city.

He had been in the process of trying to get Argent 2's father, Taiyang Xiao Long, to bring her to the SCB Headquarters where she could be protected and if she was willing, perhaps trained to use her latent abilities when the unauthorized raid on her home had occurred and the girl went missing.

James closed the report and skimmed the rest of his inbox. Another report caught his eye. It wasn't marked "Argent," but it involved a similar strange flash of light.

He pulled it up and glanced through it. Three young men had been attacked by Grimm in an abandoned workshop in the southeastern sector of the city. One of the young men claimed they had been saved by a small individual with a glowing scythe.

There was no mention of "silver" anywhere, hence why the report lacked the confidential "Argent" codeword, but his instincts told him the two events were related. Yes, they had occurred on opposite sides of the city, but considering the fact a certain dusty old crow had been involved in Argent 2's disappearance, James was willing to bet they were connected.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

They would find her eventually. The city was only so big after all. And when they did, hopefully she could be persuaded to work with them for the greater good.

All James needed was one conversation with her, and he was sure she would understand. They were all in this together after all. The Grimm spared no one, and their numbers had only been rising over the past few years.

Admittedly, the girl had been doing some good work on her own. These two incidents would mark the fourteenth incident this year alone where she managed to rescue civilians or eradicate a group of Grimm before the SCB could make it to the scene. And if he were to be entirely honest, there were probably many more unreported or unregistered cases that were probably her doing as well. But she would still be far more effective if she had an SCB team to back her up.

They just had to find her first.

---

A/N: Ahhh! This arc/prompt is finally done! It took way longer than I anticipated. ;_;

So yeah, Silver Eyes Strength was the prompt for this arc, and between "Dimmed," "Flickering," and "Illuminated," I tried to cover all my bases. We walked the paths of the past, present, and future to explore all the different facets of Ruby's silver eyes: how her power changed the course of her life, the different forms that power takes in this AU, how her power activates (or why it fails to activate), how it gets stronger or weaker, what her power means to (some) of the different factions in this story, what her power means to Ruby herself, and probably a handful of other things that I can't remember off the top of my head because I'm too tired from writing, hahaha...

This might have been a little too on the nose, but the chapter titles were also meant to reflect Ruby's changing mindscape as well as reflect ongoing plot events. "Dimmed" - how she feels about everything including her Silver Eyes Strength since Qrow disappeared. "Flickering" - how she's been feeling since Weiss (and Winter) entered her life, moments of happiness interspersed with her residual doubts. And "Illuminated" - how things are starting to click for her and how she's finally realizing that her new family is truly there to stay, which means she has some changing to do as well.

As always, I would love to hear what everyone thought of this chapter, especially since there were a LOT of "illuminations," haha... (No? Okay, I'll walk myself out, lol. ^^;)

Thank you so much for reading and for being so patient between releases. You all are awesome, and I hope you never forget that. Stay safe out there and please take care. See you all next time!