Blake's POV
Everything seems... Hazy. Blurry. Indistinguishable. The world around me moves on, spinning faster and faster while I'm left standing here in the dark. Maybe it's just the withdrawal talking. Maybe it's the pain flaring up on my side. The only thing I know is that I feel...lost in the midst of it all.
Ilia had said something and then left me out here by myself. Something about being gone a few minutes. Had those minutes already passed? Had it already been hours? Did it matter? It had been so long since that sort of thing had mattered. My time, my thoughts, my reality, they'd all belonged to him for so long. So why would it matter now? Just because I'd managed to run? Nothing felt different.
The cravings were still achingly strong. I couldn't focus on Ilia, even as she tried to help. Where had Ilia gone anyway? Did it matter? The pain kept getting worse, I would probably black out soon. Or just stop. Guess that was a possibility. I was numb to the idea, to this reality. None of it really mattered anyway. I couldn't possibly be free. It didn't feel like it. I couldn't see it.
Something moves in my line of sight, blurry. My first inclination is to ignore it. If it's danger, so what. If it's Ilia, so what. Either way I'll be swept away somewhere. The image comes into focus and I see... gold. Untamable golden hair. Lots of it. There's a face in front of me, leaning down so that we're eye level... their eyes...
"Are you okay, Miss?"
The woman's features were soft as she spoke, her voice... it didn't hold pity. I knew what that sounded like, what that looked like. She was looking at me... It had been a long time since I'd seen that look. Was it... compassion? Maybe. The longer I looked in her eyes the more the world around me came back into focus.
The ambiance of the world faded in. People. Cars. Birds.
Her.
A breeze blew and I shivered, instinctively wrapping my arms around myself to try and stave it off. Was it winter already? I felt something heavy being placed around my shoulder, followed by an overwhelming warmth. So warm.
The blonde had put her jacket around me. My eyes flicked down to her chest where something gold had glinted. Cop. She was a cop.
"There," she said. "It's pretty chilly out here tonight." She paused, her eyes still soft when I looked back up to meet them. "Would you like something to eat?"
I didn't say anything. I think I wanted to, but nothing happened. It had been so long since someone had asked what I wanted. I think I was hungry. I most likely was. She didn't seem to need a reply as she told me she'd be right back before stepping out of my line of sight, taking those eyes with her.
I shuffled uncertainly, shifting weight from one foot to the other. As I was taking a step to follow someone grabbed my arm. I turned instinctively and pulled only to find Ilia. She took my hand gently but firmly and asked me to follow her. I looked back over my shoulder at the direction of the corner the blonde had disappeared around.
I pulled the jacket tighter around myself as we left, reveling in the protection it brought even as Ilia led me away to what was most likely our new residence. My mind stayed with that woman, going over that short interaction. It was so odd, so random. I thought back to those eyes.
Lavender. What a pretty color.
I hiss as I lift up my shirt. Tonight had gone according to plan for the most part. The extra security had thrown a bit of a wrench into things but what mattered was Corsac had now been dealt with. The White Fang was down another enforcer, and Ilia had made sure we weren't followed. At the very least it would slow down coke and meth trafficking.
Five years since I left and this was still all I could do. Cripple them, cause some chaos, and cut off one head, though it wouldn't matter until Adam was gone.
Adam...
I shook my head and grit my teeth, trying to force my mind back to the task at hand. I cleaned the wounds on my side with alcohol. Five years since I'd seen him, since I'd escaped with Ilia's help and my mind still tended to stutter and stop at his name. My jaw burned in memory of what he'd done, my hip stung, my back ached. All phantom pain, but pain nonetheless.
Steady breath as I take needle and start sewing up a wound on my shoulder. He's not here. Push and pull. He's not here. Push and pull.
The blue eyes in my mind shift to lilac... and that feeling of dread gradually melts away. That color... I'd never forget that color...
The door opens and I'm drawn from my thoughts by Ilia, looking mostly unscathed. Not surprising. She'd always been fast, had a killer aim with knives. "You're going to scar if you do it that way," she admonished under her breath, taking the needle from me after I pulled it through one last time.
"Doesn't matter," I answered tiredly. "Not like anyone will see. Besides, what's one more scar?" Just another to add to the collection. At least these scars faded with time.
My dismissal got a hum from Ilia.
"Did you find out what I asked?"
She nodded. "Tukson just set up a bookstore at the edge of Vale," the red head relayed. "Should have some promising information."
"Good."
"All done," she said as she pulled out the last stitch, setting the needle and thread by the first aid kit and bloody cotton balls to be cleaned later.
"Thanks." It didn't feel like enough, but my body was starting to feel the fatigue and I needed to lay down, try and recuperate. "We'll rest up and then we'll have to pay Tukson a visit."
Adam's POV
I took a sip of my third champagne glass of the night as I watched the various mob leaders, members, and families interact. I'd thought about skipping out on the invitation but I knew what it would imply. It would be an insult and I couldn't afford that, not now anyways. Sienna Khan was next in line to become leader now that our boss had died from a sudden heart attack. I scoffed at the very idea. Sudden. I wasn't the only one that suspected foul play but no one was stupid enough to say it.
Maybe that was giving Sienna too much credit, though. She always did seem to have a certain sense of honor.
My eyes narrowed as Yuma entered with Trifa on his arm, the crowd turning around to greet them. I remembered when they would do the same for Blake and I. We were the power couple of the White Fang. She'd been by my side since she was a teen and now...now she was gone. My hand went up to my neck instinctively as I remembered the last time I'd seen her. That little friend of hers, she was the reason Blake had turned on me.
"Sir?" a waiter called, interrupting my thoughts as he handed me a red rose.
I felt my jaw clench slightly but I took it. Everything reminded me of Blake. The champagne. Trifa. The rose. That day hadn't been the only time she had disappointed me. Mercury Black had been taking from our stash to sell on the side and had been caught. I gave her an opportunity to shine, to show everyone that I had done well in training her. But when I gave her the knife she couldn't bring herself to kill him, so I'd taught her a lesson, having no choice but to mar that pretty face. Strangely, it didn't make her any less beautiful. Everyone would still look at her, married men or even women couldn't take their eyes off her when she entered the room.
But she was just so stupid sometimes, couldn't get things right. I'd punish her of course, sometimes so bad that makeup couldn't cover it up. I'd apologize when that happened. I didn't want to hurt her too much. Just wanted to teach her how to behave sometimes. She was selfish. Thinking only about herself and her needs. The heroine had seemed to control her for a while but then she'd started refusing to take it. That's when I suspected someone was helping her, and I hadn't been wrong.
I wanted to hit and kick and slap her and pull her hair for being so stupid. For being so damn selfish. I wanted to show her it was pointless to run away. I didn't even notice as my grip tightened around the rose until I felt something warm slither down my hand. Blood. I smiled and took out a napkin to clean it up.
Oh, sweet little Blake. Do you really think I'll let you go that easy?
Yang's POV
I couldn't help but feel bad for Jaune as I handed him the barf bag. Poor guy was trying his best but he didn't tend to do well around actual bodies. I'd asked him why he'd even wanted to become a detective in the first place and his response had been rather simple. He wanted to help put bad people away, catch them. He followed that up by saying he would get better. And he had. Now he managed to actually move away from the body before getting sick.
Our victim had been a local bookstore owner. The body had been found with a bullet between his eyes and a red rose resting on his chest. I had called Winter and had her look into old red rose cases. Usually the red rose was connected to the mob leaders or members of the White Fang though this one seemed...different. He'd been tortured, and the whole thing read like a personal vendetta.
Once back at the station Jaune came up with an excuse not to come down to the morgue with me and I let him, taking the elevator down to the basement of the precinct. I rolled my shoulder as I stepped out, trying to stave off the slight discomfort. The now scarred over wound had been bothering me a little today, so I was looking forward to ending my day after checking in here.
"What do we got, Snow Angel," I asked as I stepped into the morgue.
The coroner didn't even look up at my entrance, still gently and carefully inspecting the body laying stiffly on her table. "I've told you not to call me that," Weiss replied. She hummed after, tilting her head. "He was tortured."
"Right. I was hoping you can give me a little more"
Slowly Weiss lifted her head, ice blue eyes unimpressed. "Blunt force trauma to the head and a number of cuts in non lethal areas caused by something sharp."
I hummed in response, putting my hands behind me. Fighting the urge to roll my shoulder again, I shifted back and forth on the balls of my feet. "Like something caused by a knife?"
The younger Schnee blinked at me, raising one thin brow. "You know I don't like guessing."
I laughed, relenting, because that was true enough. Weiss had always preferred to let the evidence speak for them, to make sure there was no room for error. "I'm just teasing Weiss," I told her good naturedly. "I'll, of course, wait for your official report."
I saw her smile just a little, before going back to examining the victim. Then the door opened once again. "Just where I thought you'd be," a voice says as they enter. I turn, though I recognize the voice easily. Winter walks over to us, as tall and proud as usual. She'd been my partner when I'd first started as a detective three years ago until she was promoted, though I'd known her and Weiss for longer than that.
"Anything on our victim?" she asked.
Weiss seemed to straighten upon seeing her older sister, clearing her throat. "Tukson Grey, 32 years old, and former White Fang," she replied.
"Guess that's why he was targeted," I added, cupping my chin in thought. Something didn't quite feel right. "How long ago did he leave the mob?"
Winter shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I'll have Jaune look through our database and files." She sighed, looking down at her watch. "That will have to wait until tomorrow however. It's been a long day."
I couldn't help but agree with that sentiment. Winter smoothed down her jacket though there wasn't a wrinkle in sight. "There's a bar downtown that I've been wanting to visit since it opened."
It was an invitation. I shared a glance with Weiss, who's brow simply furrowed before she shook her head and got back to work, declining said invitation. Winter's similar ice blue gaze then came back to me. I sighed. Why not? Some music and drinks would be relaxing enough. We both said our goodbyes to Weiss before heading back up and out to the parking garage.
"She spends too much time with those bodies," Winter said as if musing to herself as we walked into the bar. Junior's. How original, I thought.
"Maybe you should spend more time with her," I tried.
I didn't get a response as we sat down at the bar. I got my strawberry sunrise. No ice. With a little umbrella. The bartender had rolled his eyes but, hey, I knew what I liked. Besides, I'd probably end up having to drive Winter home anyway. At least she hadn't gone to see her today, so it wouldn't be too bad.
Looking around the joint I had to admit it wasn't bad. There was plenty of people, the music wasn't overpowering and they did make a mean strawberry sunrise. Everything looked to be pretty above board as far as I could tell. They even had a bouncer, a woman standing by the door.
She was lithe, wearing a black leather jacket over a black tank and some form fitting jeans. Long ebony hair cascaded down her back as she scanned the room. Her gaze didn't take long to flick toward me, as if noticing my staring. I smiled and raised my glass toward her but got no real response back before she was back to examining the rest of the patrons.
I shrugged, going back to my own drink and checking in on Winter who was slowly nursing hers. She seemed contemplative. "You know Tukson was most likely another victim of the Fang, correct?" she asked me. Though, really, it wasn't a question.
I ran a hand through my hair. "Yeah, it's more than likely. Despite some slight differences, it's pretty consistent with other suspected cases."
"Though those slight differences are troubling."
My thoughts exactly, really.
I was about to respond when I picked up what sounded like a disagreement coming from the other side of the establishment. When I looked I found the bouncer from before standing in front of patron, a guy that was clearly more than tipsy.
He shoved back on her shoulders and I instinctively went to stand but was pleasantly surprised when she kept her footing. The guy tried to take a swing at her but she moved to the side and as he turned around bewildered she landed a decent punch to his jaw, almost knocking him on the floor. With a kick she sent him stumbling forward out the door and into the cold.
Well then.
Any of the remaining customers that had watched the little scuffle eventually turned back to their own worlds once more. The woman heaved a big breath before shaking her hand. That would probably need some ice. Sure, enough, she made her way toward the bar.
"Hey, Junior, got a bag of peas or something?"
Ah, so the bartender was the owner. Seriously? Was this place just a walking cliche?
I could feel Winter's eyes on me as I watched Junior get the requested item and hand it over to his employee. She thanked him. Now that she was closer, I could see a scar along her jawline. Then she looked over as if, again, noticing I was watching, and her eyes happened to lock on mine again. Gold. They were gold. A very familiar shade of gold. Was it... Could she be...
"Surprised I could throw a punch?" she asked, those amber orbs quickly ducking back down to her hand.
I chuckled. "Didn't think he would make it past one." She smiled, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. "I'm Yang. Yang Xiao Long."
"Blake."
Blake. Pretty name. Then again, she was a very beautiful woman. "Do I get a last name?"
She looked up again, and I was hit by that feeling. Tilting her head, she smirked. "You get Blake."
I heard Winter chuckle quietly to herself behind me. "Well alright, then, Blake," I began, and saying her name made me want to grin. It was weird. "Would you be interested in having breakfast?"
The ravenette seemed to consider it, looking a bit uncertain as her eyes really studied me, seeming to be looking for something. Blake took a deep breath before finally, mercifully, nodding. "Shifts over at three."
"There's a diner down the street, I can meet you there."
Another nod. "Okay then."
She paused, opened her mouth as if to say something but closed it just as quick and left without another word. The bag of peas left on the counter. I smile before looking back over to Winter who is grinning to herself into her glass.
A/N: And the dynamic duo strikes again! Put Alpha and Omega on hold to bring you this gem. Please thank BG-13 for all her hard work. Read and review please!
