Author's Notes: I have big feelings about this.

Eclipse

Chapter 7

Singe Marks Part II

Present...

Yang struck the punching bag, focused only on the sensation of her fist meeting canvas and her own breathing. She let loose a flurry of strikes that rattled the chain attached to the ceiling. Her breath was heavy, knuckles coated in burning gold. She didn't know how long she had been in the gym, which had emptied slowly after the sun set.

She didn't let up, going through another sequence, one of several she had been repeating over and over. Her Semblance had stored up a lot of energy by this point, like flood water building up behind a dam. It raged beneath her skin; she could probably level the whole building and still have strength to spare at this point. But despite this, despite knowing the full extent of the power she had been gifted with her entire life, she still felt helpless; and it was driving her up the wall.

She had considered, not for the first time, leaving to go to the forest behind the school. To seek out some real enemies, ones more deserving of her wrath; something with teeth, and claws, and burning eyes and maws. Yet she recognized, dimly, that that would be a foolish choice; that and at any point now, Ruby would come back and Yang needed to be there for her.

She hated feeling this way.

Growling, she landed a hurricane of kicks and punches against her senseless opponent. Outside, the rain continued, like white noise on the radio. She panted, her blonde hair plastered to her sweaty cheeks. With a final, furious punch, her Semblance exploded outwards, and the bag caved and flew across the room, breaking free from its chain and crashing violently into the wall; she heaved, watching as it slid uselessly to the ground. This was the fourth bag she had gone through, it's tattered companions stacked against the wall next to it; luckily, she still had spares.

"Yang?"

The blonde looked up, eyes burning crimson, her aura rolling like magma. Weiss Schnee was standing behind her, still wearing her combat outfit, her face showing more than a little concern.

Yang inhaled slowly, forcing the waters back, as she let out a heavy huff; her Semblance reluctantly began to cool, storing the energy vibrating against her very bones for a later time. She needed to relieve the pressure, but she could hold it until the heiress left.

"...What do you want, Weiss?" she asked, brushing strands from her eyes.

She realized she sounded more than a little rude, and winced. Weiss didn't deserve her ire; the ice queen was being nice, which gods knew wasn't exactly easy for her.

Weiss's typical range of responses for rudeness did not manifest as the petite girl watched her carefully, trying to pick the right approach. She looked over the carnage that Yang had wrought over the last several hours, her face bemused, before stepping a little closer.

"Well, I wanted to see if you were...ok," Weiss sniffed a little. As if the concept was a foreign one. Yang's mouth curved in a rueful smile.

"Yea, I'm peachy," Yang chuckled darkly, gesturing to the slain bags. "I just need to cool off. I'll be back in a little bit, alright?"

"Will you?" Weiss asked skeptically. "It's pretty late, you know? And at this rate, waking you up in the morning is going to be a chore."

"Oh, well, sorry," Yang snarked, wiping her face with her gym towel. "If you're worried about tomorrow, don't be. I'll be in good form for the mission. Sooo, no stress ok?"

Weiss raised a prim eyebrow, folding her arms as she stared at her.

"I'm not worried about the mission, you dunce," Weiss proclaimed, tone drier than the desert. Yang almost offered her the water jug on the bench as a joke.

Weiss's face softened a little, and Yang paused, feeling as if they had entered territory unfamiliar to both of them. Her eyes cooled, slipping back to lavender as she watched her smaller teammate. Weiss rarely spared anyone save Ruby a look like that, and Yang didn't know what to make of it.

"I know we aren't...as close, perhaps, as you and Blake. Or Ruby, obviously," Weiss continued after a long moment. "But, you know you can talk to me too, right?"

Yang took a drink from her water jug, sighing in loud relief as the water cooled her; some splashed down her front carelessly, and Weiss didn't even comment on her sloppiness, a surprise in and of itself.

"Sure, yea I know. Don't worry, princess, you aren't failing in your duties or whatever," Yang exhaled, trying to wave her off.

Weiss scoffed, her blue eyes narrowing at the proclamation.

"Don't be an ass, Yang Xiao Long," Weiss declared.

It was probably a little inappropriate that Yang enjoyed it when the smaller girl said her name like that, with that look on her face. A memory of joyful silver eyes beaming adoringly at Weiss drifted through Yang's mind, followed by a trail of guilt. She winced, pulling her hairband off her wrist and putting her sweaty locks up into a messy ponytail.

"Sorry," Yang muttered, looking away.

Weiss huffed, shaking her head.

"Look," Weiss sighed, moving a increment closer. Yang watched her carefully from the corner of her eyes. "I won't pretend that I have any idea what you're feeling right now; or even the right to know. And I know that I'm far from being a comforting person. But if I've learned anything from you dolts this year, it's that, sometimes, talking about the things that hurt us makes the pain more manageable. And I am...concerned, that you aren't managing well, at the moment."

Yang's eyes widened a fraction, a tremor caught in her throat; she closed her eyes briefly.

"Gee, what gave you that idea?" Yang tried to tease, the tremor finding its way to her voice. It made her feel small. Weiss didn't respond; she didn't scoff, or huff, or snip at her. She just waited. Yang could feel the sutures in the dam begin to pull painfully.

"I," Yang started, glancing at the bench, the floor, anything. "I've been looking for answers, my whole life; trying to find out what happened to my birth mother. I always knew that I might not like what I found. I knew it would probably really suck. But I never even considered that the answers I did find would come from the other direction like that."

She looked up hesitantly at the icy girl across from her; Weiss met her eyes calmly, without demand. It was disconcerting, but Yang could feel herself begin to settle. She thought briefly about her talk with Blake the other week, remembering how she had tried to present herself similarly to her partner.

"I thought I knew what happened to Summer; that it was just another tragedy that can come with being a huntress. It...hurt, but I had accepted that. But now, I know that I really don't know a damn thing. I don't know anything at all. I guess I believed I was bettered prepared for the worst. And...," her voice trembled again. "And I wasn't. I'm not. I'm supposed to be able to handle the worst, and if I can't, then..."

What good am I?

Weiss's brow furrowed slightly as she studied her, processing the things Yang had laid out. Finally, she sighed and closed the gap between them, gesturing to the bench; Yang, despite her reservations, let Weiss guide her there and they sat down. Weiss folded her hands primly in her lap, still looking so put together. Yang had always wondered how the other girl could do that.

"Why do you think that?" Weiss asked after a moment.

"Huh?" Yang grunted brilliantly.

"Why do you think it's your job, and your job alone, to be the person that has to handle everything?" Weiss asked, sounding a little irritated.

Yang blinked.

"Because, it is. That's, I dunno, that's my thing."

"Why?" Weiss huffed.

Yang frowned, trying to explain herself. To justify herself.

"Because! That's my job! I take on the big stuff," Yang gestured broadly. "It goes with the territory of big sis, of being the oldest and being responsible-"

"So wait," Weiss cut her off, tossing her ponytail back imperiously. "You think what? That being Ruby's older sister means you have to handle devastating news better than anyone should be able to? That you can't be shaken by something that you have every right to be overwhelmed by?"

Yang paused, her mouth gaping a little as she tried to piece together a comeback.

"Yang," Weiss started, uncharacteristically gently. "It's ok to not always be able to handle things. It is, dare I say it, ok to be a mess when horrible things happen."

Yang felt her fingers clench as the emotions building in her chest pressed the sutures of the dam, a pressure that she didn't know how to direct.

"No one in their right mind would expect you to not hurt when you found out the woman who raised you was betrayed and murdered. And I don't think anyone is asking that of you, either," Weiss continued, blue eyes meeting lavender. "So why are you so unfairly demanding that of yourself?"

Yang could feel her eyes begin to burn, not with anger or her Semblance, but with tears. She turned away, glaring at the floor. She sniffed, frustrated. Weiss hesitated, before reaching a hand out and touching her arm; her fingers were cool, contrasting against the kinetic heat burning under Yang's muscles.

"...It's ok to not feel perfect, you know?" Weiss asked wryly, appreciating the irony. "Because, you are. Whether you believe it or not."

Yang sniffed again, wiping at the tears, but with less anger. After a few heartbeats, she glanced at her teammate. A small smile had found its way to her face.

"Since when did you figure that one out, huh?" Yang tried to tease, her voice thick.

"I have good friends," Weiss smiled back.

Yang laughed a little, the tears coming freely now.

"I..I thought we were all just dolts or whatever?"

"Oh, you absolutely are. But you're wise dolts. Sometimes."

Yang sniffled, her face a contrast of humor and grief. Her shoulders were shaking; and with a final exhale, the dam gave way. The grief and anguish poured out of her as Yang let herself cry openly, her chest shaking with quiet, sobbing breaths. She pressed her face into her hands and just let it go; and despite all that, despite Yang being an utter mess, Weiss stayed.