Everything hurt.
Everything hurt so badly that Blake had to count herself lucky that many parts still hurt enough for her to know they were still there and still in working order. Well, mostly working order.
For a time, she'd almost gotten used to the numbing pain in her leg. What was a hindrance at first had started to become just another part of who she was. It wasn't that she didn't notice the painful electric sensation that went through her leg with every step, but she didn't let it hold her back anymore. She hated the metal brace she wore at first, but grew to appreciate the freedom it gave back to her.
But now, as she woke up to a dark room that she couldn't recognize, she craved that cold brace and constant pain she knew before.
Every beat of her heart sent a wave of pain through her head. Each breath tickled at the back of her dry throat, threatening to send her body into what would be a very, very painful coughing fit.
She had to move her body slowly to move at all. Bruises and cuts, hidden under sweat soaked bandages, made themselves well known to her as she swung her aching legs over the side of the bed. The room was still so dark that she couldn't see herself clearly, but she could tell that most of her body was covered in dirty bandages.
A chill air drifted along by air, tickling at what skin was left exposed. Carefully, Blake raked her fingers over herself, taking stock of the damage she'd taken the night before. Dressed only in underwear and gauze, she could feel bumps and bruises covering every bit of bare skin.
She shivered in the cold, regretting the action instantly. Her broken body screamed in protest as she let out a pained groan. Shuddering and shaking as she rode out the pain, she felt her nails digging into her palms as she gripped the blankes.
A moment of silence in the room passed, when Blake felt the blankets shift under hands. Slowly, she twisted her aching body. In bed behind her was another figure that she hadn't even noticed before. Thoughts of pain faded, pushed from her mind by the sight. Blanket rose and fell, slowly and softly with each breath the sleeping took.
It was far too arduous a task than Blake would like, but still she slipped back under the covers. Warmth replaced cold before long after Blake pressed up against the woman. A sigh escaped Ruby's lips as she leaned back into Blake's embrace.
Red and brown hair caught on Blake's dry lips as Ruby's head turned. Her eyes were tired and only half open, but appeared to be without the same bruises that Blake felt on hers. A smile slowly spread across Ruby's face after a moment.
"Hey Ruby," Blake said. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired," Ruby's voice was groggy and quiet, "very tired."
"I know the feeling."
"Are you okay?" Ruby asked. She turned over in the bed, making only delicate and slow movements to avoid bumping into the bruised Blake. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, Ruby," Blake said. "I'm fine. Kind of."
"Kind of?"
Concern lit up Ruby's eyes. Up and down Blake's body she scanned, like taking in the damage done for the first time. Blake reached out one aching arm and laid it on Ruby's cheek to stop her downward spiral before it started.
"I'm going to be okay," she said. "We're going to be okay. I promise. How are you feeling?"
Though she asked, the answer appeared evident. Upon looking closer, Ruby wasn't just free of the same level of bruising and scarring as Blake; Ruby Rose looked to be the picture of perfect health. Of course, by the end of the night, Ruby's aura had taken far less punishment than Blake's, but it still had its limits. Not a single blemish was on Ruby's tanned skin. The acne and dry skin that Blake had come to love was gone. Even the bags under Ruby's eyes seemed to fade before her very eyes as Ruby woke up more.
"I feel better than you look," Ruby said. "No offense."
"None taken," Blake chuckled, but quickly stifled it. Her body definitely did not take well to the motion. "You look much better than I feel."
She made an attempt to turn and look at the room, but a sharp pain in her back made her stiffen up. Shockwave of pain ran through her body while she very slowly faced Ruby again.
"I think this is Weiss' old room," Ruby said.
"And where is Weiss?"
"I don't know?" Ruby tilted her head as she answered Blake. "I think they just put us here because it's the biggest room. Maybe they just wanted to keep us together."
"Well, whoever 'they' are, remind me to thank them," Blake said. "Waking up to you is always a pleasure. Even more so when I'm like this."
A deep blush crept onto Ruby's cheeks. For the first time since she'd woken up, her eyes left Blake and her gaze danced about the dark room. Such a bashful side to Ruby wasn't something Blake was used to, but she couldn't deny she liked it.
"W-well," Ruby stammered, "I'm just glad you're okay. Everything that happened last night is just a blur…so I wasn't sure what happened to you."
"I understand," Blake said. "Last night was a lot to take in. What all do you remember?"
"Uhm," Ruby's blush faded and she wrinkled her brow as she thought. "We were at the inn. You snuck out of bed and left. After that…it's fuzzy. Like trying to remember a dream, but I know it was real. I know it was real, but…I think I wish it wasn't."
Blake furrowed her brow. She waited for further elaboration that would never come. There was much that happened that she couldn't blame her for wanting to repress. But there was at least one moment, distinctly left out of Ruby's recollection, that stuck out to her. For all the bruises she already wore, there was one more that wasn't new, but was much harder to hurt. And for not the first time since her stay in Argus, it hurt again.
On the second day back in the base, Blake was bothered by three things.
Ruby wasn't as well as she looked. Shortly after their last conversation, she'd drifted back to sleep again. For meals and medical checks, she would wake and look as well as she could. But soon after, she'd lay back down and fall asleep once more.
Blake couldn't walk. Her legs and bones were just short of broken. A fancy, military grade wheelchair was left for her by the doctor, who advised her to avoid walking on her legs until her Aura could more fully restore and heal her. Never did she think that she would actually miss her crutches.
Weiss was nowhere to be found. Set up in the husk of her old room, the evidence of her existence was all that remained of her. The occasional strand of white hair tucked in dirty corners and in the bathroom. A box of tea bags left in an otherwise empty drawer. Brown, stained rings on the nightstand, left there by so many mugs of tea that sat there untouched and cold by the time Blake left the room for her own.
Despite all that had gone on, Blake couldn't help but feel like she had made only negative progress in solving her problems.
She had faced the Shadow, only to come out of the fight in worse condition than before. And that wouldn't be an issue had it not slithered off into the unknown, seemingly no worse for wear. On top of that, it had added a few new tricks to its arsenal since she and Weiss last faced it in the forest.
That much was a bad enough development on its own, before she even counted what had happened with Ruby and Weiss. Although, both women apparently wanted nothing to do with her now, so at least she could just pretend nothing happened at all with them.
A low, electric hum followed Blake as she rolled across the base. She knew it was the noise of the fancy wheelchair beneath her, but that didn't stop her mind from constantly thinking of the same hum the Shadow made. Blake was already afraid of too many things to let electricity get added to the list.
On a normal day, the hum of the wheelchair wouldn't even be audible. Unfortunately the city of Argus had kissed normal goodbye long ago and the military base was no different.
White lines bordered empty lanes, interrupted only by the dashes and inlaid lights in the pavement. Rows and rows of trucks, cars, and tanks gathered dust in every available garage. Even the hangars were filled with vehicles that would never fly, while the original occupants flew north to certain doom in Atlas. All that protected Argus now was a skeleton crew of huntsmen, huntresses, and rookie soldiers.
The silence was occasionally broken by the arrival of trucks hauling mud, debris, and other evidence of the Shadow's carnage. Cleanup had been largely up to anyone who volunteered, overseen by the remains of Cordovin's forces. The dark, unused corners of the base had been turned to makeshift landfills when the city's actual landfills filled up.
Blake's sense of smell had always been a bother to her, same as her hearing. For as useful as they were in combat and survival, they made everyday life a bit of an annoyance. While the workers on the base could ignore the smell of the garbage as best as they could, Blake couldn't go anywhere outside without being assaulted by the acrid scent of rot and trash.
Carried along at the only pace the wheelchair could go, Blake stared ahead at her destination. The cafeteria sat dark beside the empty soldier barracks, hopefully still full of food. No smoke rose from the chimneys, dashing quickly any hope Blake had a freshly grilled meal.
She rounded the corner of the building, hugging the wall as tightly as she could. Her short trip from the barracks she'd been staying gave her no reason to think she'd run into anyone else. And yet-
"WHOA."
A tall, lanky shadow stumbled and fell over Blake. An attempt was made on their part to tuck and roll, so as to soften the blow of hitting the hard pavement. Not a good attempt, Blake thought, but the attempt was noted nonetheless.
Blake turned to look at the figure that groaned in pain on the ground. The loose shirt they wore of a dirty, tattered tank top fell down over their shoulders. From the glimpse of their arms, Blake clouds countless lines of chicken scratch notes covering every measure of their skin. Some words and phrases were bolder than others and all were in a multitude of colors. If it weren't the smudging and evident fading of many notes, Blake might have assumed they were tattoos.
The figure collected themselves, almost, and spun over on their back. A look of panic flashed in their face as they started scrambling back away from Blake.
"HEY. No no, w-wait-" they paused, seemingly only just then noticed Blake was unarmed and uninterested in hurting them. "Oh. Sorry. I know you?" They said it like a question, but didn't wait for an answer. "You're Blake Belladonna. I remember you."
"Are you alright?" Blake asked. "I'd offer to help you up, but…"
The stranger looked over Blake's bandaged arms and laughed nervously. They awkwardly climbed to their feet, frantically shaking the dirt from their hands before extending one out to Blake.
Blake held up her very clearly injured limbs. "Maybe some other time."
"Right," they said. "Of course, yeah. We had a rough night. You had a rough night, I meant. Not that I didn't, too, but it wasn't the same rough night. Or, it was, but the roughage in question wasn't the exact same-"
Blake held up a hand, silencing the stranger.
"Who are you?"
"Oh yes, you wouldn't know that," the stranger said. "Although we have spoken before. Well, actually you just sent me reports, so maybe it's more accurate to say we've written. But then I never replied, so that isn't right either-"
"Name," Blake stopped their rambling. "Just start with a name, please."
"Dr. Darcy Farrow," they said. "I'm the one studying the Colony Grimm. You, Blake Belladonna and the other one-" Farrow rolled up their sleeves and looked through a mess of smudged notes that covered their arms. "Oh right, Weiss Schnee. I received both of your written reports and now I have further questions. For Blake Belladonna, Weiss Schnee, and, uh…"
"Ruby Rose?"
"Yes! Ruby Rose spent a considerable time in the Fertile Zone," Farrow said. "Ruby Rose was incapacitated until recently, so I've been told. I would have come earlier, but I went out to what was left of the Fertile Zone and then the Yang Xiao Long sent out the message about the Salem and my military escort got commandeered by a recruitment convoy going all through Mistral looking for militia camps and-"
"Ruby should have sent you a report already," Blake said. "Same as Weiss and I did. What questions would you still have?"
"Oh yes, I did get her report," Farrow said. "But it was light on details due to an alleged loss of memory from the incident. I suspect that Ruby Rose's time in the Fertile Zone changed her. Certainly psychologically, potentially physiologically as well. Actually, this is an incredible opportunity to study the effects of the Colony Grimm on aura and semblance. As of yet, no one has ever survived the way that Ruby Rose has-"
If Farrow noticed the low hum of Blake's wheelchair, they didn't indicate it. Their ranting went on and on, to the point they weren't even talking to Blake so much as themself. All that Blake could hear them say was Ruby's name, over and over again, like it was a subject of study and not a human being.
"-the ongoing activity of the Colony Grimm is highly irregular," Farrow was still going on. "I do think that Ruby Rose may be the key to understanding the Colony Grimm more intimately. Well, not intimate. That's not the right word for it. Maybe I should say-"
"Nothing," Blake held up a hand to silence the doctor. "Say nothing. You're just rambling. Do you need anything from me right now or can I go?"
"Ah, I apologize for that," Farrow said. "Actually, I am just looking for Caroline Cordovin."
Blake pointed toward the tower in the center of the base, "Try her office."
Farrow opened their mouth, almost certainly about to go on another downward spiral of saying very little with the most amount of words. If Blake hadn't chosen that moment to continue on to the cafeteria, Farrow may have done just that.
As soon as Blake pushed through the cafeteria doors and let them slam shut behind her, she shut her eyes and took in a deep breath. The dry, filtered air was stale and smelled faintly of metal, but it certainly beat the odorous garbage outside. Vibrating air ducts and buzzing lights were hardly birdsong and harp strings, but they beat having to listen to another confused, impersonal rant from the strange doctor.
Another rumble in her stomach reminded her why she came. She tried to put Farrow out of her thoughts and started down the hall.
Overhead, a dim light would flicker lazily to life, only to fall dark again moments later. A haphazard trail of wires ran along the ceiling, linking cheap little sensors that seemed to detect Blake too late to properly light her path. If anything, Blake wished she could just shut off the lights entirely. Her eyesight in the dark was good enough she didn't need it, but the constant flashing of the lights made it hard to even adjust to the dark.
The kitchen hadn't been outfitted with the same measures and stayed dark except for the sterile glow of a few security lights. Filaments rattled and electricity whined, sounding so much louder to Blake's sensitive ears in the quiet space.
Each fridge, walk-in or otherwise, was empty of fresh food. Even the leftover bits thrown in the trash seemed to be a few days old by then. Only the pantry at the back of the kitchen offered anything that caught Blake's attention: stacks of untouched canned meats. She wasted no time grabbing a handful of cans and piling them onto her lap.
Tuna from a can was far less glamorous than a fresh cut filet, but Blake was far too hungry to care. She peeled the lid off and licked the meat straight from the tin. It was salty, slimy, and stale but it may as well have been the finest sushi in all of Remnant with how she devoured it.
Blake was very glad that she had the kitchen to herself, because she was certain she looked very ungraceful then. There was no shortage of moaning and slurping coming from her as she dug into can after can of disgusting, gray fish. She was especially grateful then that she didn't run into Weiss on the way in, because she could only imagine what Weiss would have to say about this display.
"I see you've been holding out on me, Belladonna."
Tuna cans fell from Blake's lap and scattered across the floor with a chorus of clanging. Her wheelchair tipped as she jumped, bringing one wheel up and crashing back down. She reached out to catch the remaining tuna can in her lap, but it fell just out of her reach and rolled across the floor.
Weiss bent down and picked up the can before bringing it to Blake. The faintest of grimaces flashed across her face as she read the label.
"Sorry," Weiss said. "I shouldn't have said that."
"I can handle innuendo," Blake said. "What you shouldn't have done was sneak up on me like that. At least you're better than the last mess that snuck up on me today."
"Ah," Weiss nodded. "So you've met the ambulatory notepad as well?"
"Yeah," Blake said. "I had to get the whole spiel before she told me she was just looking for Cordovin's office."
"They," Weiss corrected her. "And that's strange, because I had just told them earlier where Cordovin's office was."
"Let's hope they find it this time," Blake said. "I don't want to have to spend any more time talking to them than I have to."
One by one, Blake gathered the fallen cans from the floor. Each time she bent over to grab them, she tried as hard as she could to keep from grunting in pain. But try as she might, her bruised ribs and aching arms had other thoughts. Curses and pathetic whimpers slipped from her lips, apparently falling on deaf ears.
When she sat back up she could see Weiss hadn't moved. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the can in her hands. She picked at the label with her thumb and looked anywhere in the room but at Blake.
"Weiss."
Tin crunched quietly in Weiss' grasp. Her hands were shaking, but her face didn't show the same nerves. Blake watched her eyes dart towards her, if only for a split second, before falling down to the dented can in her hand.
"When did you get back?" Blake asked.
"Two nights ago, same as you," Weiss said. "I helped Ruby carry you back after-" She paused, clearing her throat before continuing. "I don't know how much you remember from that night, but you were in poor condition."
"I still am in poor condition," Blake said.
"Yes, but I wasn't about to say it," Weiss said. "All things considered, how are you feeling?"
"I'm alive," Blake said. "You didn't really answer my question, Weiss. When did you decide to come back to Argus?"
"What do you mean?" Weiss' nervousness disappeared and she started a black with a tilted head and raised eyebrow. "I never left Argus. I simply went back to staying with Jaune's sister."
"What?" Blake said. "Cordovin told me you left on an airship."
"I don't know what gave her that idea."
"Well, both you and an airship went missing at the same time," Blake said. "I guess it seemed like an obvious conclusion."
"I didn't go missing, I just left the base to stay somewhere else," Weiss said. "I needed space. They can't force me to stay here."
"Actually they can."
Weiss' brows furrowed and she stared at Blake, waiting for more.
"Well, they can try," Blake admitted. "I woke up to a message on my Scroll this morning. We were 'strongly advised' not to leave the base for any reason. I think we both know what that's code for."
"Perhaps that is just so they see to your recovery," Weiss said.
"You're right. I'm sure the military has nothing but benevolent intentions for us when they tell us to not leave their sight."
Weiss hummed in agreement. An awkward silence fell over the kitchen, interrupted only when Weiss walked over toward Blake. Even as Blake stared up at Weiss, she still couldn't look her in the eyes. Weiss' reached an arm over Blake, setting the dented tuna can on the shelf before walking away.
There was another metallic crack as Blake opened another tuna can. She lifted the can to face, about to start shoveling into her mouth again, but she stopped. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see an icy blue glare directed at her from the other side of the metal shelving.
"Would you like a spoon?" Weiss asked.
"My fingers will get the job done just fine."
"Yes," Weiss said. "They usually do."
Weiss grabbed a box from the shelf and walked away from Blake. Usually her stride would come with the telltale sound of heels clicking on the floor. Only then did Blake notice Weiss had forgone her usual height enhancers in favor of some very out of character flats.
With the open can of tuna in hand, Blake sat back and watched Weiss dig through cabinets in search of utensils. Weiss found a tea kettle first, buried under an unorganized pile of pots and pans. Blake's cat ears were already flat against her head before Weiss even had her hand on the kettle.
Metal clanged and scraped on metal when the contents of the cabinet spilled out across the floor. Weiss shied away from the clamor, grimacing each time a new pot hit the floor. When the avalanche of cookware stopped, Weiss carefully stepped over the mess with the tea kettle in hand.
Weiss turned to Blake and held up the kettle and the box to her. "Would you like some tea to go with your meal?
"That depends," Blake said. "Am I actually going to drink it this time?"
"I suppose that also depends," Weiss said, looking around the kitchen. "Would a prep table be a suitable venue for you?"
"I think I'll pass."
Weiss nodded and set to making tea. Once the kettle was filled and placed over a blue flame, she dug through more cabinets until she found a spoon. Blake rolled over to Weiss and took the spoon from her.
"I take it you didn't see my letter," Weiss said as she handed her the spoon.
"What letter?"
"I'll take that as a no," Weiss said as she hopped up onto the counter by the stove. "After I saw you and Ruby last, I left a letter in your room. If you had read it, you would have known where I was. Presumably, you would have had my new number to call."
"Ah," Blake said. "I was wondering if maybe you'd just blocked my number after about the tenth missed call. Did you lose your Scroll?"
"The power outages fried it while it was charging," Weiss said. "I've yet to lose a Scroll in my life. I'm not eager to start doing so now."
Blake's ear perked up at the sound of the kettle starting to quietly whistle. Weiss hopped off the counter and moved to prepare her tea. After dropping a tea bag in her mug, she held up an additional bag, offering it to Blake.
"So, are you going to ask about it or not?" Blake grumbled. "I know you saw it."
Weiss whipped her head around, looking away from Blake. She leaned over the counter and her silvery hair flowed over shoulders and obscured her face. A subtle ripple in her hair followed the sound of a sigh.
"Yes, I saw," she whispered. "But I didn't feel it was my place to say anything. I'm…happy for you both. Truly."
"Bullshit, Weiss," Blake said. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying," Weiss snapped back, whipping her head around to glare at Blake. "I meant it. I truly am happy for you and Ruby."
Weiss stormed past Blake. Her hands busied themselves with picking up the pots and pans she'd dropped on the floor.
"Even though you love Ruby?" Blake asked, moving her wheelchair back into Weiss' view.
"Especially because I love Ruby," Weiss said. "If you make her happy, then I am happy. What kind of person do you think I am? Do you take me for something more shallow and jealous?"
"Are you not jealous?" Blake asked. "Or even angry with me? I kissed Ruby, knowing full well how you felt about her. Aren't you mad at me?"
"No, Blake," Weiss said. "I'm not mad at you."
"Of course not," Blake let out a laugh, but quickly stifled it with a wince. "Of course you're not. You could never be mad at me. That would require having any sort of strong feeling directed at me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means nothing has changed between us," Blake said. "Here I am, angry with you while you just don't care. Same as before, the one with all the feelings while you are still just as distant as ever. The only thing different now is who I share a bed with."
"Excuse me," Weiss growled. "You don't have a monopoly on emotions. Is that truly how you see me? As cold and unfeeling as you thought I was when we first met? Is that all I am to you, Blake? Am I still just a Schnee to you?"
"No," Blake said. "You're far more than that. You are so much more than that to me, but I don't know what I'm supposed to be to you."
"Blake," Weiss said. "You are Blake to me. And that's all I want you to be. Just you. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Oh really?" Blake laughed at Weiss. "Well you could have fooled me. Tell me this, Weiss: was I still 'just Blake' before we started sleeping together? Or was I still just that faunus girl on your team?"
Weiss slammed the pan she'd been holding down on the ground, sending it crashing across the kitchen. Growling something under her breath, Weiss sat down and fell back against the cabinet. Shining steel crinkled and cried against Weiss' weight and her hair spilled over her shoulders like liquid.
"What do you want to be to me, Blake?"
"All I want is for you to just say something for once."
"And what do you want me to tell you?"
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Fuck, Weiss!" Blake screamed so loud it made Weiss slam her head back against the cabinet, but she had no time to react to the pain before Blake screamed again. "Why can't you just speak for yourself? I'm not going to tell you what to say, so stop asking me. All I wanted is for you to just tell me what you want."
"What's that supposed-"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Blake mocked her. "You're a broken record, Weiss! Unreliable and skipping the parts I actually like. You should have told Ruby that you love her. You should have told me that you didn't."
"Blake, I-"
"Don't," Blake said. "I'm sorry, Weiss. I just- I can't do this with you right now. This isn't how I wanted this conversation to go."
Weiss fell silent, still sat in her field of cookware. Pale, scarred fingers fidgeted slowly at first, but grew more frantic the longer Blake let the silence go on.
Blake shut her eyes tight, blocking out the pathetic sight before her. A rumble and wheeze followed each deep breath she took. In arguing with Weiss, she'd let herself forget about the pain, but in the newfound downtime all her bruises and cuts were quickly reacquainting themselves with her nerves.
"Whatever 'us' is supposed to be; it can wait," Blake said finally. "You said you just wanted Ruby to be happy, didn't you?"
Weiss nodded.
"Good," Blake said. "At least we agree on one thing. Something is wrong with her, Weiss."
"Are you sure?" Weiss sat up straight against the cabinet. "What do you believe is wrong with her?"
"Remember the kiss from last night?"
"Yes, of course."
"So do I," Blake said. "But she doesn't."
In between dreams she saw it.
Unawake, unasleep she watched it as it watched her. A figure in black, its body as featureless as its face. Stood there at the foot of her bed, under a black crescent blade, staring at her and waiting.
Her bed was empty. She did not even feel herself lying among the sheets and sweat. An empty bed was no stranger to her, but knowing that it was empty was new. Never before had her nights alone had she felt so alone as she did now. The space beside her shouldn't have felt like it was reserved for another and yet it was.
Abandoned, she faced the nightmare again. And it faced her, never curious nor aggressive. It only watched.
But the Shadow didn't need to attack her. Just in knowing she would be helpless to stop it from driving the rusted blade of that scythe into her chest, it felt as though it already had. Her blood ran cold as it sank deeper into her. Her heart betrayed her, as it always had, pushing the crumbling metal through her veins and ripping her apart from the inside.
And yet the blade was still, looming behind the Shadow and over her. For minutes that felt like hours, she stared at it and it stared back. Then, without warning, it left.
And she followed.
"I don't understand why anyone would want to frame Ruby."
Blake groaned. Again and again, she tried to tell Weiss what was happening, only to find the conversation looping back on itself each time. Whether Weiss could not understand or would not do so, Blake didn't know. But she did know that she was beginning to regret asking for Weiss' help.
Behind her, she could hear Weiss humming in thought. Together they walked through the tunnels under the base, enclosed in a darkness broken up only by the dim, flickering light of cobweb covered lamps that lined the wall to their right. Much like the rest of the base, the lights were triggered by motion sensors, but these were much older than the rest. Each light lagged behind the movement that triggered them. If Blake and Weiss were to move any faster, they'd be walking in darkness with the light following behind.
"The only person that might make sense is Cordovin," Weiss said. "But even that is a major reach."
"I've already considered that, but I don't think it's her," Blake said. "I'm not even certain if 'framing' is the right descriptor for what's happening."
"Do you believe that Ruby is truly doing this?"
"She's not. I know she's not," Blake said. "Even if Ruby doesn't remember, I know what I saw. I saw the Shadow and I saw her. Both in the same place, both clearly separate things. But when I saw Ruby before we-" Blake paused and cleared her throat. "When I first saw her in the motel, she wasn't completely herself. Whatever happened to her in the forest, it changed her."
"I understand," Weiss said. "But rather than sneaking in tunnels and security archives, shouldn't we be taking this up with Dr. Farrow? They are most qualified to-"
"Absolutely not. I'm not letting them anywhere near Ruby," Blake stopped and spun around to face Weiss. "The way they talked about her; it was like all they saw in her was a test subject. I refuse to believe that Ruby is going around murdering people in Argus, but I can't deny that she's changed by the Colony Grimm. If Farrow and Cordovin deem her a threat, they will lock her up forever and she'll be studied like an animal."
"That seems drastic even for Cordovin."
"And Farrow?" Blake asked.
"I don't know," Weiss said. "I've only just met them."
"Exactly," Blake said. "We know nothing about them. But think about it, Weiss. This random expert just happens to show up the day after the Shadow rampages through the city, then starts talking about studying Ruby. Isn't that timing a little suspect?"
"Not at all," Weiss said. "They've been meant to be arriving here for months now. I don't believe it's anything more than coincidence."
"I don't believe in coincidence."
"Blake…"
Long shadows were cast over Weiss' face by the dim light beside her. Weiss had never been very hard for Blake to read before. So often she wore her discontent on her face when Blake first met her. Frowns and wrinkled brows paired with puffed and reddened cheeks telegraphed every thought that went through Weiss' head, once upon a time.
But something had changed. It was a great source of frustration to Blake, the way Weiss looked at her anymore. The way she only ever gave her a stoney, ice cold stare when she looked at her. Things that she used to say to fire Weiss up did nothing now. Short of calling her something very unsavory, as Weiss would put it, Blake never got anything more than an emotionless stare from those big, blue eyes.
If she had known Weiss to be so simple, it wouldn't frustrate her so. But she knew better. Blake knew Weiss was thinking when she looked at her. Overthinking the way that she always did, but now she hid those thoughts from Blake.
"Blake," Weiss said again. "I hesitate to ask this and I don't want you to take this the wrong way. You mentioned that Ruby forgot certain things about last night. That was a very stressful night for the both of you and…perhaps some things were said in a sensitive state of mind. Have you considered that maybe claiming memory loss is a simpler solution than walking back on a statement?"
She had considered that. For as much as it hurt when her own mind had tried to convince her of it, that was nothing compared to hearing from Weiss.
"No," Blake said, "no that's not- I know there is more than just that. It still wouldn't explain why she doesn't remember what happened to Crescent Rose."
"Unless she lied about that too," Weiss said. "Or she doesn't remember what happened to it because she wasn't the one who lost it."
Blake looked up at Weiss with her mouth agape. "I thought you weren't buying into the framing theory?"
"I'm not. I think whatever is happening is far more complicated than that. I believe we're out of our league, Blake."
A growl rose up in Blake's throat, ready to lash out at Weiss. Even in the cold, recycled air of the tunnels, Blake's hand began to sweat as she gripped the armrests of the wheelchair.
After being still so long, the sensor shut their only lights source out. Both women were plunged into darkness, but Blake's eyes quickly adjusted. A faint glow caught her eye then. Far down the hall behind where she and Weiss had come from, a single lamp flickered to life. It dimly illuminated its section of the tunnel, revealing nothing but particles of dust and cobwebs dangling from the ceiling.
Weiss must have noticed it shortly after, turning and squinting down the hall. That movement was enough to send their lamp buzzing back to life once more. The light left Blake briefly blinded, but by the time she could see to look back down the hall again, the second light had gone dark.
Ever tightening corridors of stone choked her. Breath had become a commodity no longer afforded to her. Burning lungs and blackening vision weighed her down. In the same shrinking space, the Shadow stood unobstructed. Its featureless face watched while it waited. It mocked her without a smirk or a voice while she crawled after it.
The journey was never ending. She dragged herself across the ground, leaving a trail of blood behind her, spilled from scraped knees and bleeding fingers. The crimson color that characterized her collected in puddles while she paled and faded.
Darkness hid the world from her. Blindly she fumbled, reaching her hands out to grab the unseen and each step made on faith alone. And yet, the Shadow remained clear, always.
But mocking you is becoming a bore.
The blade fell low, touching the ground before you. Rusted metal runs red with your blood when you grab it.
Blake's eyes fought to stay open as she shuttled through yet another day's worth of uneventful video. Every so often, Weiss would watch her head fall slightly. Cat ears would flick and her body would jerk back upright, startling herself awake again.
Despite it all, Weiss couldn't help but find it adorable. But as soon as the thought would cross her, she'd banish it away just as fast.
"Blake?"
The raven haired woman jumped when Weiss spoke. Her cat ears swiveled toward Weiss instinctively. A mumble escaped her lips that almost sounded like a 'What?' to Weiss.
"I want to apologize for earlier," Weiss said. "When I suggested that Ruby didn't mean whatever she said to you. I didn't mean to imply that I thought she shouldn't, I was just exploring all of our options."
"Okay," was all Blake had to say before turning back to watch the staticy screen.
"Right," Weiss said. "I'm sorry. That's all I wanted to say."
Blake hummed, but didn't look back at Weiss. By her side was a stack of antiquated tapes that held days worth of camera footage from across the base. None of which held anything that would absolve Ruby.
Weiss had started out searching through the video before handing the controls off to Blake. As tired as Blake must have been, Weiss was hardly doing any better. Although Blake may have taken more damage the night before, Weiss had spent more of it actually awake.
From dusk till dawn she chased the Shadow through Argus, depleting all that remained of her dust reserves while fighting it. Her assault was oppressive and constant, but never enough to keep it from going on. The exhaustion that weighed her down and slowed her pursuit did not affect her target at all. Guilt settled into Weiss' chest whenever she thought about how she fought so hard to fight a monster that only ignored her, while it proceeded to put those dearest to her through hell while she watched from afar.
A quiet gasp pulled Weiss from her thoughts. Blake's wide eyes blinked rapidly as she wobbled before the screen. On the desk before her, Weiss could see a faint shimmering of saliva.
"Want me to take over again?" Weiss asked.
Blake nodded through a yawn. Her wheelchair hummed to life as she scooted out of the way for Weiss.
Nothing in the footage was any different that last time she'd taken a turn going through it. Just hours and hours of soldiers and base staff roaming the empty halls. Halls specifically empty of Ruby and of the Shadow.
"What if it is her?"
Blake jerked awake again when Weiss spoke. Weiss could feel her glare from behind her, but she didn't dare look back.
"What if it is Ruby," Weiss asked again, "and she is something else now? What if we see her, on camera, knowingly taking Crescent Rose and hiding it."
"We won't see that because that's not what happened."
"As much as I want to believe the same thing," Weiss said, "we should be prepared for that to be true. We need to have a plan to get her out of here before-"
"What?"
Weiss looked back at Blake. The bags remained under her eyes, but they were wide open now and staring at Weiss.
"We need to make a plan to get out," Weiss said, "in case we need to. I don't want to have to, but I don't want to be caught unprepared. Why are you looking at me like that?"
Blake blinked and looked away. She bit at her lip while she thought in silence. Weiss left her to her thinking, while she set back to searching through video.
For several minutes, Blake said nothing. Then: "You're probably right."
"About what?"
"About it being Ruby," Blake said. "Or at least, her being unstable enough she may as well be." The wheelchair creaked in the quiet room as Blake shifted in her seat. "The more I let myself think about it, the more I realize it can be the only explanation."
"Only explanation for which part, exactly?" Weiss asked.
"For why she said what she said," Blake said quietly. "For why she did what she did. I know why I did it. I'm an idiot that way; I always have been. But Ruby has never shown to me any interest in that sort of thing, at least not like I do. Me falling in love yet again and so soon after the last time; that's just to be expected of me by now."
"Blake, I-"
"And I did this knowing how you felt about Ruby," Blake went on. "Not only that, but I told her you loved her, which I am very sorry that I did. Loving one person is enough to make anyone do dumb things. You can't even imagine what loving several would make you do."
Of all the statements one could make, there had to be very few more perfectly concocted to anger Weiss than that. She slammed her fist on the desk, making the video before her skip and freeze.
"You told Ruby I loved her?" Weiss asked. "That was not for you to tell her. How could you do that?"
"Why couldn't you?! I can admit I was wrong to tell her, but in my defense, I thought you were gone."
"I was never gone-"
"But I thought you were," Blake said. "I thought maybe it was my fault. That for once, I was on the receiving end of the very thing I've done so many times. It felt awful. I was angry at you and angry at myself."
"But why tell Ruby that?" Weiss asked. "What did you hope to accomplish?"
"I don't know, Weiss!" Blake said. "Jealousy? Anger? Frustration that I had to listen to you talk about how much you loved Ruby when I was right there?"
"What's that-" Weiss stopped herself before she could say it. "Would you have preferred I didn't tell you? I apologize if I overshared with-"
"Oh come on," Blake spat. "Don't act like you didn't know."
She did know. Blake wasn't subtle and Weiss wasn't dumb. But Weiss had her reasons that she reminded herself of everyday and then again at this moment. Love overflowing wasn't so good as it sounded, and she'd long been letting herself drown in it. Maybe Blake didn't realize it, but she was reaching her hand down and only pushing Weiss deeper down.
"Don't make me say it, Weiss."
She couldn't bring herself to speak up or even look at Blake. The fallout of all her intentions were crashing down on her. Her heart crushed under the weight of the walls she'd built around it, now crumbling and crashing down on the very thing they'd been made to protect.
"What about Ruby?" Weiss mumbled. "And what about Yang?"
"What about you?"
Don't. She wanted to beg Blake to stop, but her lips stayed glued shut.
"Weiss-"
Please. Her pleading was silent and went unheard. Even with her eyes clenched shut, she could feel Blake rolling up to her. Blake's warmth washed over her as she leaned in close, but Weiss still shivered.
"I have something I need to tell you," Blake whispered, her breath hot on Weiss' ear. "You're without a doubt the dumbest person I've ever met."
Weiss recoiled from Blake, a scowl quickly finding its way onto her face. By the time she could turn to face Blake, she was far too late to realize the trap she'd fallen into. Quite literally, she'd fallen right into Blake's hands. Or more specifically just the one hand, running through her knotted hair and gently pressing against the back of her head.
It was just as she remembered it. The feeling was no weaker than the first, but much more intense. At first, it had been a more curious thing. Like Blake was testing Weiss, waiting to see if would do the very same in return. And then when Weiss did as much, it unleashed the hunger behind it. But this time, when Weiss kissed Blake back, she was met with something new.
Blake pulled back from Weiss, breaking the kiss just as it was starting. Her tired and teary eyes stared directly into Weiss', now holding the attention the Weiss had been trying so hard to deny her.
"I can't live without you anymore," Blake said, breathless. "Tell me this isn't what you want and I'll leave it alone."
"It's not about me-"
"I have room in my heart for more than one," Blake said. "Most importantly I have room for you, if you'll have the same for me."
A flood of potential replies rushed through Weiss' mind. Everything from snarky comments to pick-up lines to heartfelt confessions presented themselves to her in an instant. All she had to do was pick one, but that was proving to be more and more difficult the longer she waited. Every second that passed, she watched the hope fade from Blake's face, up close and in excruciating detail.
Just as the first of the tears that pooled at the corners of Blake's eyes fell down her cheek, Weiss fell the first of many to follow suit. Then another and another and another. Soon enough, Weiss' body rocked uncontrollably with her sobbing.
What an embarrassment, she thought for only a brief moment.
The second kiss of the day followed what could best be described as snot filled gurgling. Speech may have been the original intent, but the final product was very far approaching anything recognizable as an 'I love you.' Lucky for Weiss, Blake seemed to have understood well enough.
Never again did either woman bother to talk about the kiss itself. As far as kisses go, both would agree it was not incredibly pleasant. Or pretty. Or sanitary. But it was necessary and it was brief.
Their lips parted and the two stared at each other in silence. Weiss couldn't bring herself to speak first. Everything still felt so tender and fragile, she feared that speaking first would shatter the illusion and take her back to square one.
Luckily for her, Blake spoke first: "Hey, Weiss?"
"Yes?"
"I know I told you not to make me say it, but I've changed my mind."
"Is that so?" Weiss laughed, loosening up as she spoke. "Blake, is there something you want to tell me?"
"Actually there is," Blake said. "Weiss, I-"
The smile on Blake's face was so short lived. Weiss' heart lurched in her chest, feeling the full whiplash of the moment. She'd let herself get so excited to finally hear Blake say the words, only to have it held back again.
She watched Blake stare back over her shoulder, wishing for too long that Blake would look back at her again. But soon she realized that Blake wasn't just avoiding her again, she was staring at something else. Weiss turned and followed Blake's gaze, back at the screen they'd both already spent so much time staring at.
The screen was still frozen on the frame that Weiss had left it on. Even though the image was blurry and the colors muted, it was still clear enough. Weiss checked the timecode on the video; it was the day Blake told her Crescent Rose should have gone missing. Although, now Weiss wondered if 'missing' was still the right word for it.
On the screen before her was a figure in red with unmistakable black and crimson hair. And in her hands was Crescent Rose.
You find freedom in the dark. That blade looks best in your hands and even better painted red by your open wounds.
Grace is nowhere to be found in that hall. Like a newborn you stumble, crashing and falling more often than you stand and walk. Mumbled words and groans leave your mouth, carried at first on dripping saliva until you are completely dried out.
In the featureless dark, you are led toward an unseen destination. On misplaced faith you keep moving forward, convincing yourself that what you search for would show itself soon. While, again, that faith is misplaced and foolish, pure coincidence steps up and presents your prize to you.
A disturbance in the inky blackness lay ahead of you. The sight burns at your eyes and the sound rumbles in your ears. Still you stare forward at the buzzing figure that takes a human shape the longer you look.
And it looks back. It watches you. Same as you stumble towards it, it strides confidently toward you. No, it runs to you. It closes the distance between you and it before you can even realize that it is nearly on top of you.
Oh, what a sight it is, when you and the darkness join hands. When you become one with it, until the line between you and it disappears. Your assailant falters as you become the floor that walks on. You are the walls that close in on it. You are the death that awaits it.
The figure falls to the floor and you take your more boring form over top of it. Gone is your blade and a rifle has taken its place. Normally it would be poor form to weild a weapon while unsure it's loaded, but worry not: we made sure it was loaded and ready for you.
You can take it from here, Warrior.
A flash and a bang left Ruby blind and her ears ringing. Her arms hung limp at her side and the weight she'd been holding fell to the floor below her.
She didn't know where she was or how she got there. What little effort she made to try and recall only made her head throb in pain.
Darkness bordered her vision, framing a gray light that hung just before her. As her vision and hearing recovered from the explosion that stunned her, she could just make out the flickering lamp that cast its light over her and her section of the hall she stood in. In either direction, concrete and pipes extended out and disappeared into the shadows.
The ringing in her ears subsided, but was replaced by a low moan. She clenched her eyes shut and craned her head to hear where it was coming from, but in doing so she heard something else. It was hum followed by a rhythmic thudding, quiet at first but growing louder by the second. She tried to determine the source as it became clearer to her, but the sound stopped before she could.
Ruby opened her eyes again. A new light had joined hers, off to her right. She turned and squinted at the distant flashing.
With her blurry vision, she could only make out a flashing brightness far down the hall. A chain of light that snaked through the tunnel, getting closer and closer to her with each new flash. The constant change in brightness left her dizzy, but still she just made out the blurred forms of two figures between her and the light.
Neither figure moved, even as she squinted and stared directly at them. It wasn't until the creeping light arrived at the figures' side that she could make out any detail.
Two women, one stood up straight and one sitting down. Ruby recognized them, but couldn't recall from where. Both stared at the floor below Ruby, both wide eyed and their mouths agape. Confused, Ruby followed their shocked gazes.
There lay a fourth figure, bleeding from a gaping red hole on their shoulder. This person stared up at Ruby, fear clear on their unfamiliar face.
"Ruby…"
One of the women called to her. She turned to look at her, the standing one with long silver hair draped down past her waist. Slow and careful, she crept past Ruby and knelt down next to the bleeding man she didn't recognize. She pressed a hand to the bleeding wound. Crimson liquid soaked her stark white clothes.
Ruby stumbled back, tripping over the thing she'd dropped when she woke up. It was a rusted, red rifle that still had smoke rising from the barrel. Blood coated the weapon and dripped off it into the puddle it lay in. A puddle that formed the red streams that ran from not just the man she'd shot, but from the dark gashes in her own hands.
Warrior, oh Warrior. What have you done?