Hey everyone, I'm back.

TW this chapter for transphobia, anxiety attacks, implied PTSD, mentions of abuse, bullying, slut shaming, and more mentions of Salem being abusive to her students.

I don't own RWBY

Weiss felt like her whole body had been frozen solid. Her heart pounded against her rib cage, threatening to burst from it. Her hands trembled and shook without her control, she could feel a slight cold sweat on her forehead. The ground was spinning like a top, tilting and wobbling uncontrollably, making her feel increasingly more queasy with every second. It was like any minute, the floor of Winter's room would rush up, a million miles an hour, to hit Weiss' face. Everything blurred as her breathing span out of control.

Winter was looking her way, calmly awaiting a response, but Weiss couldn't get the words out of her lips.

She only remembered feeling this scared in her life once before, and it was in this exact same room, eleven years prior.

She could still hear the door fly open, still hear Jacques' booming voice, still hear his threats echoing in her mind.

She remembered being called a degenerate, a freak. She flinched just at the mere memories, which just drove her further into panic.

The one saving grace is that Winter had turned on the fan in her bathroom, which lessened the chance of anyone hearing anything from outside the bedroom.

She couldn't fight, not realistically anyway. If she tried to argue with Winter to salvage her situation, it would just result in Jacques finding out what had happened.

She couldn't flee. It was either Winter or Jacques.

She had no clue where to go, what to do. Even though she understood logically that while this was bad, it wasn't life or death, she still felt as though her life was at stake.

"I... um... I..." Weiss stammered, doing everything she could to force out a response. She had no clue what the response was supposed to be, what she was supposed to say, and even if she did, that didn't take away the panic constricting her every move.

"In case you're ever looking to try this again in the future, I'd recommend you keep in mind that eyeliner and eyeshadow can leave a residue that is much harder to remove than most makeup," Winter said. "And while we're at it, I have an organizational scheme I stick to, so it'd be wise to learn it if you wanted to keep me from finding out."

Weiss shrunk away, wishing she could just vanish from the very place she stood. She knew that no matter what came next, things were about to get so much worse.

Would Winter yell at her?

Would she tell Jacques?

What would Jacques do?

Maybe Winter would just stop talking to Weiss altogether. Sure, it'd be better than being yelled at or hit, but no matter what, one thing was definite. Even if she managed to persuade Winter not to tell Jacques, she was going to lose Winter. Her only friend, the only person that ever seemed to care about her in the slightest.

It was over, and Weiss knew it was all hopeless.

Every possibility raced through her mind.

"Listen," Winter said, her voice soft. She stepped out of the bathroom, intentionally leaving the fan on. "I'm not angry. I'm not upset, I'm not even hurt. I'd just like to understand why."

What?

Weiss hadn't heard her right. She knew that for sure, there was no way Winter had actually said that.

Winter took a seat on her bed, and motioned with her hand for Weiss to sit next to her.

Weiss, trembling, took a seat, still shrinking away from Winter. She couldn't bring herself to look at her.

"I very much doubt you remember," Winter said. "But a long time ago, when I was only eight years old, there was a day that I had my friends over, and Ciel had the idea of practicing makeup. After talking about it, we asked if we could practice on you. According to Ilia, it was pretty stereotypical big sister stuff. But while most little brothers adamantly protested the idea, you didn't. You actually seemed like you were having a lot of fun, and when you saw the makeup, you actually seemed genuinely happy, more than I'd ever seen you before, happier than I've ever seen you since. You seemed relieved."

"I remember," Weiss said quietly.

"For just a few seconds, you were the happiest you've ever been in your entire life," Winter said. "And then father barged in."

Weiss flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. The memory was almost as old as she herself was, but she could still recall details like that perfectly. Other parts were blurry, but that always remained crystal clear.

"He was angrier than I've ever seen," Weiss muttered.

Winter wasn't the physically affectionate type. She didn't ever roughhouse, she didn't like being touched, at all.

Which explained why Weiss was sure she was dreaming when Winter wrapped her arms around Weiss, pulling her in.

There was no way this was happening. Winter had known, and she wasn't yelling, she hadn't told Jacques...

Winter seemed worried. The way she pulled her close, like she was shielding her, Weiss had never felt anything like it before.

She had never even been hugged before, let alone like this.

Tears once again welled up in her eyes, threatening to cascade out at any moment.

She immediately knew that she never wanted this dream to end. It was far too good to be true, and she knew that, but she just wanted to find solace in it while it lasted.

"I remember how scared you were, that day. And I've seen you just as frightened, time after time, since then. I've seen what he has done to you," Winter said, and Weiss could feel her anger when Jacques was mentioned. "I'm sorry. I wanted to protect you from him. I still want to."

It couldn't be real.

Could anyone actually love Weiss?

Was there even the slightest chance this wasn't a dream?

"Please," Winter said, her voice urgent as she released Weiss from her embrace. She placed a hand on Weiss' shoulder, looking down at her. "I just want to understand."

Weiss took in a deep breath, and then let it out. And again. And again. She did everything she could to calm herself down enough to speak.

"I," Weiss began, her voice barely more than a whisper, terrified that Jacques could hear her. Winter must have noticed, because she got up and moved onto Weiss' other side, sitting between her and the door, serving as a shield in the event that Jacques entered the room. "W-Winter?"

"Yes?" Winter asked.

"I..." Weiss said, still unable to force the words out. She took one more breath, and then just forced herself to say everything before she could think twice. "I wasn't born in the right body. I'm not normal. I-"

Winter put her hand back on Weiss' shoulder, interrupting her words with her own quiet, but caring tone.

"In junior high, I first heard the word 'transgender', and all I could think of was that day. I always wondered. I've seen so many of the signs, I noticed every time you would stare at girl's toys and clothes, when we would be shopping. I noticed how much you tried to be soft-spoken, despite father trying to force a harsher tone into you. I noticed everything, I just... I'm sorry. I was scared, too. I didn't know how to help."

Weiss was astonished. There wasn't an ounce of disgust or anger in Winter's words. Weiss had imagined every possibility of how Winter would react, but this had never even crossed her mind as possible.

"You... don't hate me?" Weiss said, her voice so quiet Winter almost didn't hear it.

Winter's eyes went wide, full of shock.

"I could never hate you!" Winter gasped. "Why would you ever think I would hate you?"

Weiss looked at the floor, feeling guilt flood her mind.

After everything, Winter was actually here, she was actually supportive, she was accepting of her. Was Weiss really about to throw the past in her face?

Winter, however, wasn't willing to drop the matter. She waited, patiently, as Weiss clearly struggled to find her words.

"It's just... well... Ilia, and May," Weiss said, at the same time feeling her conscience lighten just slightly because she finally used May's real name. "When Ilia came out, you didn't approve, and when Henry mentioned May at the party..."

It was now Winter's turn to stare at the ground in guilt.

"You're right to bring those up," Winter said. "I promise you, I feel no pride at all in how I handled either situation. You've trusted me with something, so now I'll do the same for you. If I'm being completely honest, I'm a coward. I was always so ashamed of who I was, that I threw others under the bus in order to protect myself. I lied to myself for years, hoping that if I lied enough, maybe I'd finally be straight like father wanted. But the truth is, I reacted the way I did when Ilia came out because... well, because I'm also a lesbian."

Weiss' eyes went wide.

"You... you are?" Weiss asked.

"And I was scared. I was scared of seeing how my father would react. A small part of me was scared that if I accepted Ilia, maybe I'd start to accept myself, and then I'd realize... just how unhappy I am here, with father."

"A-and May?" Weiss asked, nervously.

"I wanted to bury myself. If I hadn't joined in, I was worried father would start to see me for who I am," Winter said. "It's no excuse, and I know that full well. I have no valid excuse for any of it, and if I could change it I would without any hesitation, but I can't."

Weiss heard the pain in her voice, especially on the last word.

"I've been doing the exact same thing," Weiss said. "I've been an awful person, and I hate everything about myself."

Winter shared a look of sorrow with Weiss.

"There isn't a day that's gone by where I haven't missed Ilia. She was one of the most amazing people I've ever met, and I don't think I will ever forgive myself for what I did to her," Winter said. "I know she won't, either, and I can't blame her."

"I... I was just scared that if you knew the truth, you'd hate me, that you'd never want to talk to me ever again. I... I was scared you'd tell father..."

Winter pulled her into another embrace, practically squeezing Weiss to death.

"I'd never do that to you. You're my little sister," Winter said.

That was all it took. The moment she heard those words, the moment Winter called her her sister, Weiss burst into tears. She couldn't stop herself from sobbing into Winter's arms.

She couldn't believe Winter was actually acknowledging her as her.

"You promise this isn't a joke or a prank?" Weiss said, between sobs.

"I promise," Winter assured her. "I would never do something like that to you."

"And... you're not angry that I took some of your makeup?" Weiss asked.

"Not even in the slightest," Winter said. "I can always get more makeup, and I'm happy to lend it to you, too."

For several moments, Winter held Weiss, and Weiss was perfectly content to just lay in her arms, letting herself actually feel loved and cared about, for the first time in her life.

"I'd like to ask you just a few more questions," Winter said, breaking the silence after almost ten minutes. "What are your pronouns?"

Weiss couldn't describe how affirming it felt to actually be asked that question. She had overheard several of the trans students at school mention things like that before, but she never thought she would ever be the one being asked.

"She/her," Weiss said, trying to keep herself from collapsing into tears once more.

"Alright," Winter smiled. "And I've seen that look, the way you flinch whenever I use the name father gave you. I never want to use that name again, if I can help it. I'm assuming that around other people, at least for now, it'd still be for the best that I use that one. But when it's safe to, I'd like to use your real name. What is your real name?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep herself from crying.

"Weiss," she said, her voice unsteady. "My name is Weiss."

"Weiss," Winter repeated. "That's such a beautiful name."

Wednesday morning, Blake was more than eager to get through today as quickly as possible. She felt an immense longing for the weekend, and it seemed impossible that somehow she still wasn't even halfway through.

So when she arrived at the bus stop, and Warren came around the corner, a block away, she took a deep breath, hoping that things would be as peaceful as possible.

She really just didn't have the energy to fight.

Warren eventually reached the boulder-bench, and took a seat on the far left, Blake having sat on the far right.

She winced when he opened his mouth to speak, readying herself for whatever the topic of their argument today would be.

"I'd really like not to fight today," he said. "So I'd like to propose that I give you space, and I request that you do the same."

That wasn't what I expected.

Blake recovered from her surprise, and spoke up.

"I'd like that," she said.

A few moments passed in silence, but for once, the silence wasn't tense and hostile. Blake, however couldn't shake the surreal feeling that came with it.

"Can I ask why today's different?" Blake asked. Warren sighed, thinking over his answer.

"I... understand your stance. You have your feelings on the matter, and I have mine. But I don't think there's anything either of us have to gain from bickering," Warren said. "And I'm... really tired of arguing."

For a Schnee, that's a really decent answer.

Blake nodded, still curious about his reasoning, but willing to drop it for now.

That didn't stop her from wondering, however. He seemed much less sure of himself than he usually did, and she had no clue how to react.

He seemed like a completely different person than the Warren Schnee she had gotten to know so many times before.

Either way, when the bus got here, she was happy to be able to get on without conflict, unlike the day before.

As the day went on, Blake came to the conclusion that she had been wrong, and that Warren was exactly who he seemed like. Despite their decent conversation at the bus stop, she had noticed that by the time they got to the school, he was up to his usual bullying, with the current topic of his conversation with the Malachite twins and Henry being feminism as a whole, and drawing a lot of focus towards outspoken feminist students, especially Robyn Hill, who was apparently also Warren's rival for the upcoming student president election.

Taking her parents' advice, she elected simply to focus her time on getting to know her friends better, rather than letting herself get angry over something she had no say in. She grabbed her breakfast and took a seat next to Yang, who was halfway through a breakfast cinnamon roll.

"It's been way too long," Ruby said, nodding in agreement. "My aim is gonna get rusty if we don't go again soon."

"I'll tell you what, we'll go this weekend," Yang promised. "Oh, hey, Blake."

"Hi," Blake said. "Is it alright if I sit here?"

"Absolutely," Yang said.

"What are you talking about?" Blake asked, grabbing some scrambled eggs with her fork.

"Paintball," Ruby said. "Have you ever played?"

"Not really," Blake said. "I'm not against trying, though."

"We'll have to take you sometime," Yang said. "It's a ton of fun. We haven't gone in about five months, ish."

"So, what I'm getting from this, is that you both love sports," Blake said.

"Some sports," Ruby corrected. "I'm big on track and cross-country. Yang does boxing and wrestling. Neither of us play more mainstream sports, though."

Behind Ruby came another voice.

"Well, if you need anyone to cheer you on, I'm here."

Penny Polendina sat down next to Ruby, who lit up the moment Penny had spoken.

"Good morning, Penny!" Ruby said, eagerly turning to face her.

"Good morning, Ruby," Penny replied. "Is that healthy?"

She pointed to Ruby's hand, which had an extra large energy drink in it.

"Probably not," Ruby admitted. "I'm low-key caffeine addicted."

"Unfortunately, a lot of people in today's society are," Blake said. "It's just another one of the many harmful byproducts of capitalism."

For a moment, everyone was silent, and Blake worried she'd accidentally brought a rather politically opinionated topic to the table.

Then Yang grinned.

"It's really nice to see you speaking up more," Yang said.

"More accurately, it's nice to see you speaking up when it's not just during an argument with Warren," Ruby added. Blake looked down, a little embarrassed.

"Do I argue that much?" Blake asked.

"Well, maybe," Yang said. "You're very opinionated, and honestly, I respect that."

Blake breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, I don't really know Penny and you don't really know Blake," Yang said to Ruby. "We need to hang out more, you both seem really cool."

Penny cocked her head, awkwardly.

"You really think that I'm cool?" Penny asked.

"Totally," Yang said. "I heard about your tryouts, Coach Goodwitch is a hard woman to impress, and apparently you totally blew her away. Plus, Ruby's been gushing about how great you are all week."

Ruby blushed.

"Yang!" Ruby said, folding her arms. Yang smirked. "Oh, I've been gushing? You won't shut up about Blake."

"Hey, that's completely untrue," Yang said. "I just think she's a cool person."

"I'm not used to people wanting to talk to me," Blake admitted. "Usually, people think I'm too opinionated."

"Don't worry about that with us," Yang said. "Alright, uh, favorite movie?"

"I'd have to say V for Vendetta," Blake said.

"Mine would be The Iron Giant," Penny said. Ruby's eyes immediately welled up.

"That movie is so good!" Ruby exclaimed. "And so sad!"

"Both excellent choices," Yang said. "I'd have to say Terminator 2, I'm kind of a sucker for old sci-fi/action movies."

"What about you, Ruby?" Penny asked.

"Spider-Man: Far From Home," Ruby said. "But honestly I like just about any Spider-Man movie."

"We'll agree to disagree about The Amazing Spider-Man," Yang said.

"Okay, listen, it was darker, but it was still good!" Ruby said. "It was awesome!"

"I think I can get behind any of them except the old ones," Blake smiled. "Tobey McGuire was a bit too campy."

"Are you kidding?" Ruby exclaimed. "Those ones are amazing!"

"Honestly, Ruby, good luck finding anyone else that liked all three series'," Yang said. "Okay, how about TV shows?"

"Ooh, Penny first this time," Ruby said.

"My Life as a Teenage Robot is easily my favorite TV show," Penny replied.

"I don't really watch TV shows that much," Blake admitted, as everyone turned to her, waiting. "I prefer to read."

"Then what's your favorite book?" Yang asked.

"I could never choose just one," Blake said.

"Alright, what about some that you like, then?" Yang asked.

"That's complicated. I read a lot of YA fiction for personal enjoyment, I'd say The Hunger Games, Divergent, Artemis Fowl, and Pendragon are a few favorites, but I also like 1984 and Fahrenheit 451 for their overarching moral, but I also can't enjoy them as much due to a lot of racist and sexist undertones."

"See, there we go," Yang said.

"Artemis Fowl is so good!" Ruby said. "I've read the whole series, like, ten times."

"I figured you'd be more of a Harry Potter girl," Yang said.

"I don't mind it," Blake said. "But I'd honestly say it's a bit overrated, not to mention I have no respect for the author. Transphobia and antisemitism are really prevalent in her works, and like with Fahrenheit and 1984, it makes it really hard to read. Anyway, Yang, Ruby, what are your favorite shows?"

"The Flash," Ruby said. "It's so good. I know you don't watch TV, but you gotta check it out."

"If you can't tell, Ruby really likes her superhero stuff," Yang smiled. "She even makes her own comics."

"Really?" Blake asked. Ruby looked down, embarrassed.

"They're not amazing, and I know comics aren't as good as books, but-" Ruby began.

"No," Blake interrupted. "Comics are books. Novels and comics are two different ways to tell a story, but the way people tend to treat comics is really pretentious."

Ruby looked up, surprised.

"You really don't think there's anything wrong with comics?" Ruby asked. "I just thought, with you being so into books..."

"I personally don't really read comics," Blake clarified. "But that doesn't mean they're not a valid medium to tell a story through. To try to gatekeep books is really ableist and I don't support it. Comics, audiobooks, interactive stories, they all are constantly treated like something less intelligent. In actuality, each one is either a way to make books more accessible to people, a different style of storytelling, or both."

Ruby smiled, sitting up once more.

"Well, my comics still aren't that good, but I do make my own," Ruby said.

"That's really cool," Blake smiled. "And I'm sure they're better than you think. We're all more critical of our own work. I write a lot, and I feel that way all the time."

"You write?" Yang asked, raising an eyebrow. "What do you write?"

"Well," Blake said, blushing slightly. "Mostly fanfic and queer romance. But, you never said your favorite show."

"Oh," Yang nodded. "Brooklyn Nine-Nine. It's like The Office, but, you know, funny."

"It's also, like, the only comedy show on TV that isn't super boring," Ruby said. "Dad watches so many sitcoms where nothing ever happens."

As Ruby spoke, the bell rang, and everyone stood, reluctantly.

"Meet back up on break?" Yang asked.

"Yeah, library again?" Blake asked.

"Definitely," Yang said.

"Check," Weiss said, her head resting on her palm. It was Thursday, growing closer and closer to the weekend. Most were excited about this, but Weiss loathed it. She knew when the weekend got here, Winter would be returning to Atlas Academy and she would be left alone once more.

It felt remarkably bittersweet that one of the people she had thought would never tolerate her turned out to be the most accepting person she could find, and that not too long afterwards she would be leaving once more.

Weiss understood now why Winter had gone so specifically for a University several cities away, rather than Boise State University, which was local. The only thing Atlas offered that no local University did was that it was away from their father.

Weiss wondered if maybe she could follow in Winter's footsteps. Maybe when Winter left, she could go with, transfer to a high school there, and not have to worry about Jacques or Whitley's awful behavior except for on rare occasion.

She knew Jacques would never allow it, unfortunately. He had only let Winter give up her status as heiress because Jacques preferred to have his heir be male, and given that not only was Weiss in the closet, but it was unlikely Jacques would see her as female even if she did come out, he was unlikely to extend her the same leniency. No, Jacques wouldn't give her any option to back out. He'd been raising her since birth to be the perfect heir in every way. Perfect grades. Perfect behavior. The perfect Schnee male appearance. Weiss would have no option to truly be herself, not with all the constraints Jacques had placed on her.

"Damn," Henry said, looking closely at the board. Then, with a grin, he moved his bishop, capturing Weiss' knight. Weiss began to think about her next move, eyeing the board carefully.

"Chess? Really?" a voice mocked from Weiss' side. "Wow, you nerds fit the stereotype."

Weiss glanced over to see Cardin, backed by Sky Lark, Elm Ederne, and Russel Thrush.

"What brings you to a library?" Henry retorted. "I didn't think you could read."

"That's probably why he's here," Miltia said, from the next table over, where she was playing a chess game of her own with Melanie. "I bet he's lost. Couldn't read the sign."

Cardin smirked as he sat at a nearby computer, propping his feet up on a nearby chair. Weiss cringed as he wiped the mud on his boots off on said chair.

"Coach wanted us to brush up on a few formations that won games in the past," Russel said, scratching right next to his mohawk.

Elm, who was halfway through a can of soda, sat at one of the other computers.

"Hey, lay off, guys," Elm said. "I'm curious, how's the chess game going?"

Henry and Weiss both only responded with scowls, knowing full well that Elm had no intentions of being sincere.

"It's an intellectual game," Weiss said. "You'd get a headache trying to understand."

"No, I mean it, I'm calling it now," Elm said. "Game ends in a draw."

She punctuated her sentence by throwing her soda, still half full, onto the board, scattering the pieces across the ground and coating Weiss, Henry, and the table in soda. They both stood up, livid.

"Nice one," Sky said, leaning against a bookshelf.

"Yeah, fantastic," Henry spat. "You really proved you'll peak in high school."

"It'll be sad, really," Melanie said. "You've each got maybe four years of college football before that dries up and you're left flipping burgers, while we'll be running fortune 500 companies."

"Hate to break it to you, but my dad's also loaded," Cardin said. "If everything goes right, I play pro football for years. If it doesn't, I'll get a nice job sitting on my ass."

"And you won't have to suck dick to get there," Sky added.

"I think you have us confused with cheerleaders," Miltia said.

"Speaking of which, tell Dew I won't be able to hang with her tonight," Henry said. "She'll just have to settle for you."

Cardin stood, cracking his knuckled.

"Yeah, you're real funny, aren't you," Cardin said. "You think she'd ever go for you?"

Weiss wanted nothing more than to just walk away from this whole argument. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened, and it wouldn't be the last.

Fortunately, her pleas were answered when Mrs. Rumpole, the school's librarian and finance/economics teacher, came around the corner.

"That's enough," she sighed, stepping in between Cardin and Henry. "You don't have a library pass, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"But-" Cardin began. Rumpole glared up at him. Rumpole was only about four feet, nine inches (144 centimeters), and yet somehow, Weiss would say the only staff member she had ever seen that rivaled her degree of intimidation was Ms. Salem. Cardin towered over Rumpole, but as she glared at him, he backed up slightly.

"Perhaps I worded my sentence wrong," Mrs. Rumpole said. "I'll give you thirty seconds to be out of my library before I'll personally hand out detention slips. I hear you get enough of those, and you're off the team."

"Fine. These losers aren't worth it, anyway," Cardin said. "Come on, guys."

"And all of you," Mrs. Rumpole said. "I want this mess cleaned up."

"We didn't make any of it," Henry protested.

"Did I ask who made the mess?" Mrs. Rumpole said. Henry flinched back as she spoke.

"No," Henry said.

"No, I didn't," Mrs. Rumpole said. "You'll need a few things from the janitor's closet. I'll be right back with the permission slip to get said items. If it's still not cleaned up by the end of lunch, you'll have to wait to get to your classes until you're done."

Weiss sighed as she walked away.

"We've got Lionheart next period, he doesn't really care about tardiness," Henry said.

"I've got Port," Melanie said. "So I'm in no hurry, either."

"Speak for yourselves, I've got Salem," Miltia said. "Last time someone was late to her class, she made them stand for the entire period, and gave them a detention anyway."

"Really?" Melanie scoffed. "Who was it?"

"Nora Valkyrie," Miltia said. "I didn't know she could be scared until that day. Salem looked murderous."

"Alright, point taken," Henry said. "Warren and I can clean the table and the chairs. Melanie, take care of the mud Cardin got all over the computer chair. Miltia, you get a head start on cleaning the carpets, we'll help once we're done."

Thank you for reading so far, Chapter nine should be out in just a minute! Please feel free to leave a review, they're always appreciated!