Between listening to Zimon babble about his stuffed animal and getting him to talk a little bit about what happened on the ship, Blake tried not to let him pick up on her heightened anxiety. With every person who neared the shuttle, however, her heart jumped only to settle down once the sound faded through the doorway at the other end of the room.
Most of the Blackguards should be at dinner by now, so hopefully the danger had passed. After eating, they would separate for their evening adventures, which involved drinking and gambling...not working in the hangers. And, eventually, Yang should return.
Blake didn't know why she felt like Yang's presence made the situation safer. It wouldn't - it would be just as dangerous as before but with Yang involved. They would still live or die based on how well Zimon cooperated, and Yang could easily change her mind and throw Blake to the wolves.
It might be a possibility, but she didn't believe it...and she wanted Yang to return as soon as possible. The irony of that desire didn't escape her, considering she was the one determined to save Zimon and now she wanted Yang to hold her hand through it. But with Yang's knowledge of the Blackguards...somehow, she felt that if Yang came back, they had a better chance of making it to Drideter.
Hearing new footsteps walk into the hanger, she focused her ears and quickly confirmed that they didn't belong to Yang - the steps were too light. So, like all the times before, she silently begged whoever it was to pass by the shuttle. When the steps headed straight towards her instead, she gave up wishing and motioned Zimon back to his hiding place.
"I need you to hide again, ok?" she whispered, getting only a nod from him before rushing over to the bucket of cleaning supplies she had found in the shuttle's storage closet. Her heart was already racing yet found an even faster pace when the person just outside keyed in the code to lower the ramp. Whoever it was, they were coming on board.
With just enough time to get a rag and spray bottle in her hands, Blake pretended to take a break from cleaning and turned to greet the new arrival. The moment she saw Emerald, however, her anxiety reached an all-time high.
"What're you doing here?"
Walking into the shuttle, Emerald gave Blake a look that said she didn't belong.
"I could ask you the same thing," she countered, glancing towards Zimon's hiding spot when Emerald rolled her eyes.
"I'm a pilot. I keep the shuttles working."
"I'm a grunt," Blake replied before motioning with the cleaning supplies in her hands. "I keep the shuttles clean, apparently."
After looking between Blake's hands and the bucket of supplies on the floor, Emerald scoffed and headed towards the cockpit. She made it only a few steps, however, before pausing.
"What's that?"
When Emerald pointed at Zam Zam, who innocently sat on one of the seats, Blake silently cursed herself and scrambled for a plausible explanation.
"Found it on that wrecked ship and thought it was interesting, so brought it back."
It was a horrible answer. Blake knew that much when Emerald gave her a look that was equal parts disdain and amusement.
"What are you, twelve?"
Blake accepted the insult with a shrug, so Emerald scoffed at the stuffed animal before walking to the cockpit. While she did that, Blake grabbed Zam Zam and stuffed him under one of the seats. Out of sight, out of mind, hopefully. The last thing she wanted was for Emerald to take him just to annoy her.
With Emerald in the pilot's seat reading the different panels, Blake glanced towards Zimon's hiding spot one more time. She couldn't see him, but hopefully he could stay quiet for however long it took Emerald to check the ship. In the meantime, she sprayed the cleaner on one of the seats and wiped it with the rag in her other hand.
"You missed dinner," Emerald said while starting the engines and checking the screens.
"I had cleaning to do."
"Ret was disappointed. I'll have to find him a new girl to pine over."
"Wouldn't bother me."
When Emerald huffed and made a few adjustments at the controls, Blake tried to clean while splitting her attention between Emerald at the front of the ship and Zimon at the back. After finishing the first seat, she sprayed cleaner on the next one and froze when a tiny sneeze cut through the silence.
As soon as Emerald spun around, Blake wiped her nose and shook her head.
"Sorry," she muttered and breathed a small sigh of relief when Emerald turned away from her. Then Zimon sneezed again.
This time, Emerald gave Blake a more skeptical look, and Blake's control over the situation slipped from her grasp.
"I think I'm allergic to this."
Pretending to read the label on the bottle, she held her breath and prayed that the suspicion in Emerald's eyes disappeared. She nearly sighed out loud when Emerald finally shook her head and turned around.
"Deal with it, new girl," she muttered before powering up the thrusters. Blake thought she heard another little sneeze then, but it was drowned out by the sound of the shuttle.
Since using the spray was a bad idea, she tossed it back into the bucket and picked up a canister of wipes instead. They were probably meant for the handrails and cockpit, but she would plead ignorance if reprimanded.
"Emerald."
Recognizing the voice, Blake briefly closed her eyes and wondered what deity she angered. Emerald, meanwhile, turned off the thrusters and swore under her breath as Cinder strode onto the shuttle. Cinder's sharp gaze immediately locked onto Blake, and her lips turned down with a scowl.
"What're you doing here?" she snapped, so Blake raised the wipes as an answer. "Why aren't you working on the maps?"
"Yang told me to clean the shuttle -"
"And Adam told you to translate the maps."
"Then he decided he wanted me to clean the shuttle more."
The response put Blake on thin ice, but she was also telling the truth. Cinder seemed to know it too, as she glared for several seconds before brushing past. There was no time to relax, however, as Zimon poked his head up from behind the crate to see what was going on. Blake quickly motioned for him to duck back down, which he did, but now her heart was really racing.
"Are you done yet?" Cinder asked upon reaching the cockpit. "We need you to take over flight. Davies got sick."
"Oh now you need me for something?"
Hearing the condescending tone, Blake stared at the seat she was cleaning and pretended that she wasn't listening, especially when Cinder glanced her way.
"I don't need you for anything," Cinder replied in a dangerously-low voice. "If you don't want to do your job, we'll find someone who will."
"You're going to replace me? What's Adam got to say about losing his best pilot?"
"Don't worry. Adam gave me full discretion to deal with you and Mercury."
While the veiled threat hung in the air, Blake slowly wiped the same spot over and over again rather than move and risk attracting their ire. It had been obvious for quite some time that Emerald disliked Cinder, but talking back like that was asking for something worse than a scolding.
"Great. So you can use us to get his attention, then drop us, but still boss us around?"
"That's exactly right."
When Cinder took a step closer to Emerald, Blake briefly worried that she might attack. Instead, she leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper that Blake still heard clear as day.
"Don't forget...you're just a penniless thief who somehow learned how to fly. Don't fool yourself into thinking you're anything more."
With a smirk in place, Cinder sauntered off the ship while Emerald glared daggers into her back. The unmistakable fury in Emerald's red eyes voiced how angry that interaction made her, and now Blake better understood why she hated Cinder so much.
But the sudden silence made Blake worry that Zimon might leave his hiding spot, so she cleared her throat just to make some noise. Emerald leveled that glare upon her then, but the anger had already become something much more...calculated.
"You know what I hate more than anything?" Emerald said, her tone slow and purposeful as she held Blake's gaze. "Being underestimated."
"I understand the feeling," Blake replied, and Emerald gave her a thoughtful expression, as if seeing her as more than the 'new girl' for the first time, before turning off the ship and standing up.
"Well, I'm done. Have fun cleaning."
Emerald threw a wave over her shoulder as she walked off the shuttle, and Blake listened to her footsteps leave the hanger before sighing in relief. As soon as she was certain that both Emerald and Cinder were gone, she closed the ramp and turned towards the crates in the back.
"Zimon? You can come out now."
He obediently poked his head up and, upon her nod, slipped out from behind the crates. While he walked over, she grabbed Zam Zam from underneath the seat and handed the stuffed toy to him.
"He probably missed you," she said, doing her best not to come across as scolding. "You'll take him with you next time?"
Zimon nodded and hugged his stuffed toy to his chest, and she barely managed a smile before hearing more footsteps.
"Like right now," she whispered while ushering him back to the crates. This time, she made sure the stuffed animal went with him before returning to the bucket of cleaning supplies. Her pulse was racing already, and she really didn't want to do this again, especially not when two heavy knocks hit the exterior of the shuttle.
"Grunt, open up."
Yang's voice took a needle to the balloon of anxiety in her chest, and she quickly lowered the ramp.
"Where have you been?" she asked while Yang hurried inside carrying a large black bag that looked like something to carry weapons in. The canvas material was rugged and strong, but she set it down gently while Blake closed the ramp behind her.
"Got caught up with Adam," she explained before looking around. "Where is he?"
Blake motioned towards the crates, but Zimon didn't make a sound.
"He's scared of me," Yang concluded with a frown.
"He's not," Blake argued as soon as she heard the dejection in Yang's tone. "But Emerald and Cinder just paid us a visit, so he's used to hiding now."
The answer seemed to mollify Yang, but she still sent another glance Zimon's way before shaking her head and kneeling beside the bag. "I brought some stuff," she explained while opening it. The first container she removed was filled with food from dinner, followed by a second with snacks, and a third with desserts.
"You can give this to him..." she muttered while setting each container on the floor beside her.
Rather than pick anything up, however, Blake said, "Zimon, do you want something to eat?" and he immediately popped out of his hiding spot and practically skipped over to them.
"Yang brought food for you," she explained, smiling when he showed no hesitation kneeling by Yang's side.
"This is all for me?" he asked, his eyes shining with excitement while he looked up at her. Because she couldn't understand him, however, Blake stepped in to answer.
"It is," she replied as he opened the first container and made a sound of delight. But, before taking anything for himself, he offered the box to Yang.
"Do you want some?"
Sensing the question, Yang glanced at Blake for interpretation.
"He wants to know if you want some."
"Oh. No, I'm fine. I already ate, but she's probably hungry."
When Yang pointed at Blake, Zimon turned and offered the box.
"I'm fine," she told him before looking at Yang. "I'm fine," she reiterated. Even though she should be hungry, the nerves in her stomach left no room for anything else. Fortunately, Zimon's own hunger caught up to him, and he sat on the floor in the middle of the shuttle to eat.
With her adrenaline winding down, she sat near him and leaned against the rows of seats on one side of the ship. After a few seconds of silence broken only by the happy noises he made, Yang moved over and sat beside her - close, but not close enough that they might accidentally touch.
"Did you find out anything about him?" Yang asked, watching the little boy finish off a dinner roll before moving on to a tray of rice.
"He's from Zitovia. His mom and dad were on the ship; they hid him in an air vent as soon as the attack happened. He thinks that was a week ago."
"Damn..." Yang breathed out before shaking her head. "Does he have any relatives?"
"Aunts and uncles back on Zitovia."
"Then he has a family to go home to." "
"He does."
"That's good."
Yang didn't need to elaborate in order for Blake to understand her relief. What if Zimon had no living relatives? What would they do then? Fortunately, that wasn't an issue. All they had to worry about was getting him off of the Inferno without alerting anyone to his presence.
"This is good," he suddenly said, and Blake smiled when he lifted the tray of rice for them to see. "Are you sure you don't want some?"
This time, he scooted over and offered a spoonful of rice to Yang, who waved it away.
"I'm good."
Zimon understood the denial but sat down in front of Yang as he stuck the spoon in his mouth. His gaze remained on Yang's arm while he chewed thoughtfully and, as soon as he finished that bite, he turned towards Blake.
"Her arm's metal!"
He pointed towards Yang's arm with the comment, and Yang shifted under the attention.
"It is," Blake replied. "It makes her very strong."
"That's cool. Can I have one too?"
"Maybe one day." Satisfied with the response, Zimon smiled and returned to eating. "He thinks your arm is cool," Blake explained.
"At least he doesn't think it's scary..." Yang muttered before lapsing into silence. Even so, she moved her arm in a way that suggested she wanted to hide it.
"You probably look like a superhero to him."
Blake hoped the idea would erase some of Yang's discomfort, but Yang merely gave a weak smile and didn't respond. In near silence, they watched Zimon finish the rice before finding the desserts and making another delighted noise while picking up a small piece of cake.
Midway through that slice, his gusto slowed down. When he paused and a yawn slipped out, Blake realized that his exhaustion had finally surpassed his hunger.
"Are you sleepy?" she asked, and he nodded while returning the nearly-finished piece of cake to the container.
"He's tired?" Yang asked when he yawned again and rubbed his eyes.
"Yeah, he's probably exhausted…"
"I brought some blankets and stuff. Figured we could make a little bed on the seats."
Blake gave Yang a surprised look for the thoughtfulness, but Yang was already pushing herself to her feet and grabbing a blanket from the bag.
"You want to sleep here?" she asked Zimon, pointing to a row of seats and holding up the blanket so that he could understand. After scrambling to his feet, he nodded and touched the blanket in her hands.
"Ok, you take that one."
Surrendering the first blanket to him, Yang pulled the bag closer and grabbed another thick cover from inside. Sensing an opportunity to help, Blake hurried over and picked up the other end of the blanket so that they could lay it across the seats. They repeated that process with another blanket before Yang pulled out a pillow and set it at one end of the makeshift bed.
"Alright little guy, up here."
Zimon needed no explanation to crawl onto the bed and pull the last blanket up with him. When he struggled to maneuver it with one hand but refused to drop Zam Zam from the other, Blake picked up the edges and helped tuck him in.
"Thank you," he said, smiling first at her before grinning at Yang.
"Goodnight, kiddo," Yang said before retreating to the other side of the ship.
"Goodnight, Zimon," Blake added. "We'll be right here if you need us."
After he nodded and burrowed into his nest of blankets, Blake sat next to Yang and watched her lean her head back, close her eyes, and sigh. This time, Blake understood the feeling perfectly.
"Thank you," she whispered, but Yang didn't open her eyes.
"Don't thank me yet. We could still die horrible deaths."
"Right..."
After a few seconds of silence passed, Yang cracked open an eye and looked at her.
"Remember when I called you stupid, and you said that you're smart, then I thought maybe you were right?"
"Yes..."
"I changed my mind. You are stupid."
Blake actually laughed at the playful insult, and Yang's lips curled with a smile.
"I'm starting to agree with you," she added, which only made that smile grow.
For as often as she stepped out of line or followed her heart rather than her orders, this was probably the most dangerous situation she'd gotten herself into. Not only had she put her life at risk, but also Yang's, and also a sweet little boy's. The 'smart' thing would have been protecting herself, leaving Zimon, and hoping ISA found him in time. So yes, maybe she wasn't very smart.
"At least you see it too..." Yang added before shifting in her seat and sighing. "If you want to go back and sleep, feel free. I'll stay here."
Though Blake appreciated the offer, she shook her head. "I won't be able to sleep anyway," she added. "I can stay and you can go back."
"I won't lie and say I haven't thought about it. Then when you get found out, I plead ignorance and one of us makes it out of this alive." After a brief pause to consider that option, Yang chuckled. "Isn't it more romantic this way? If we die, we'll die together."
"Oh, yes. Horribly romantic. Emphasis on 'horrible.'"
"Thought so."
When Yang laughed at their predicament, Blake smiled. Maybe they would die together, but at least they tried. At least they hadn't turned their back on someone who needed their help. Of course, she might feel differently with her demise left up to Cinder or Adam's imagination, but she hoped that future wouldn't come to pass.
As the lights in the hanger shut off for the night, leaving only the dim emergency lighting to see by, her confidence in making it to tomorrow rose. Even Yang seemed to feel the same, as she sighed and relaxed even further. Across the ship, Zimon was already fast asleep, and his deep, steady breathing added to Blake's growing relief.
"So...what got you into this?" Yang asked a few minutes later and waved a hand towards the ship when Blake looked at her.
"Well...I was playing cards, then you told me to come with you..."
Knowing where Blake was headed, Yang shook her head and chuckled again. "Not this, like this moment. This as in...the Blackguards? Being a mercenary? Crime, in general?"
"Oh."
Even though Blake had the perfect answer - one that had been carefully crafted for her - she sat back and sighed. She didn't want to use it, but what else could she do - tell the truth?
"I grew up on Ulia during the civil wars," she recited from memory. "My parents died in the fighting, and I didn't have any other relatives, so I talked my way onto a ship and...I've been doing whatever I can to survive ever since."
"Sorry about your parents."
"It's fine." Blake shook off Yang's apology, which made her feel guilty that her parents were still alive and well. "It happens, right? The universe is a dangerous place."
"You can say that again..."
With Yang staring at her hands, Blake ventured to ask a question of her own.
"What about you?"
For a second, she thought Yang wouldn't answer. Because why would she? She didn't owe Blake anything, especially now. Then she clasped her hands together and sighed.
"My mom split shortly after I was born...she's probably dead now. Adoptive mom died when I was seven, and my dad right after I finished school. It was just me and Ruby for a long time, and then I lost her too."
For a long time, Blake didn't know how to respond. What could she say to someone who'd lost so much? 'I'm sorry' didn't feel remotely good enough. Because she wasn't just sorry - she felt deeply sympathetic that Yang had to live through that and still lived with it to this day.
"So...how did you end up with the Blackguards?" she asked instead, sensing that Yang wanted to drop the subject entirely.
"I made it to Villes, where I ran into Adam. Nearly put his head through a wall, but he said he would help me. That he could help me. I just had to join and help him in return." Thinking about the memory, Yang clenched her fists and shook her head. "Looking back on it, I wish I chose differently, but I was so...desperate."
That word was almost impossible for Blake to comprehend, because Yang was anything but desperate. Powerful, strong, determined - she seemed capable of anything, so imagining her in such dire straits...
"Water under the bridge," she added with a soft scoff. "Can't fix the past. Can only move forward."
Just like that, the Blackguard version of her returned. Blake, however, refused to let go of what she just heard or how she felt when Yang explained her past. There was a real person beneath that armor; a deeply-scarred person, but a real person all the same.
"When you and Ruby got separated, did you think about going to someone for help? Like, I don't know..." Blake shrugged and tried to sound nonchalant even though she felt the opposite. "Like ISA? Or a group like that?"
With a harsh laugh, Yang leaned against the wall.
"I did go to ISA."
"What did they say?"
"They said they had bigger problems than helping me find my sister."
The response made Blake frown. Yang had no reason to lie, but that didn't mesh with how Blake viewed the Alliance. They were supposed to help as many people as possible. Sure, there were a lot of people who needed help - galaxies filled with people - but they could at least attempt a search.
"No wonder you don't like them..."
"I don't care about them one way or the other, so long as they're not trying to shoot me. They did what they had to do, and I did the same."
"That's the best we can do, right?" Blake asked and, once Yang made a quiet noise of agreement, they drifted into silence once again.
More than anything, Blake wished she could go back in time and find Yang before Adam did. She wished that she was the one Yang came to for help, because she would have tried to help - that was her duty as an Alliance officer. But she was probably just beginning her training at the time, and Yang was probably on the other side of the galaxy. If it was possible - if they met earlier - what type of person would Yang be now?
Sighing away the thought, Blake focused on Zimon instead. Watching him sleep made her eyes heavy, but her mind was too wired to sleep.
Just then, she thought she heard something in the hanger, and held her breath while turning an ear to listen. After a few seconds passed and she heard nothing else, she relaxed and resumed breathing.
"You have really good hearing, right?"
"What makes you say that?" she asked, disconcerted by the observation until Yang chuckled and waved towards her ears.
"You have four ears. Either your hearing is really good, or your genetics are way too into accessories."
"Oh." Relaxing at the response, Blake smiled and decided not to deny it. "No one else seems to notice," she said instead.
"Pretty sure they're too busy writing you off since you're 'only' the translator."
"What about you?" Blake asked, and Yang responded by giving her a long, thoughtful look.
"I know better by now."
The answer, combined with the way Yang looked at her, sent a wave of heat through her veins, and she looked at her hands while struggling to get those emotions under control. But she liked the idea that Yang didn't underestimate her the way everyone else did. It made her feel like Yang saw her. Not who she truly was - her Alliance background and purpose for being here - but who she was as a person underneath her supposed mercenary exterior. In a universe filled with ever-present dangers, being seen was a disarming and alluring thing...yet she didn't mind that Yang was the one seeing her.
When Zimon shifted in his sleep, she willingly latched onto the change of subject rather than dwell on her feelings any longer.
"How're we getting him off the ship?" she whispered with a nod across the room.
"I'm thinking we use that."
When Yang pointed to the bag on the floor, Blake gave her a disbelieving look.
"You're serious?"
"Unless you've got a better idea. It's breathable, big enough, and I can carry it like a bag of weapons. You just have to convince him to stay quiet."
As much as Blake abhorred the idea of carrying a child in a bag made for weapons, Yang's points were valid enough that she gave up without more argument.
"I think I can do that…"
"You've done a good job of keeping him quiet so far." As soon as Blake looked over, Yang realized she just offered a compliment. "I mean," she began, only to sigh and shake her head. "Nevermind. Too tired for that."
The feeling was mutual, so Blake willingly accepted the subtle praise and the silence that came after it. The more time they spent together, the more she wondered what Yang would be like away from this lifestyle. Even as a Blackguard, she could be remarkably relatable, so what would happen if she was freed from Adam's clutches?
Blake wanted to know, and had a feeling she would like the result.
"Well, if we survive…" she whispered to the not-so-imposing Blackguard by her side. "It will be quite the story, right?"
When Yang chuckled, offering yet another glimpse of the person she could be, Blake's heart skipped a beat.
"I thought I had enough stories by now, but sure. Why not add one more?"