hnnn okay so for our second to last chapter the author is once again posting on zero sleep. i'd like to take a moment to thank past me for editing and writing this while i could still english, and also to fantasize about throttling past me for deciding that no sleep was better than four and a half hours of sleep.

anyway, enjoy!

Sun

Blake is lost. Sun's not judging, or anything—he's lost too, in a maze of eye-rolls and half-smiles and stony silences. It's a maze that moves. Every time he thinks he understands her, boom! The hedges grow into each other and he's back where he started. Surrounded by thorns.

He's not complaining, either. She's a lot more fun to be lost in than what she's running from. But it gets frustrating to watch. She's literally surrounded by people who care about her, and she just... won't see it. Kali makes her breakfast and she trips over herself apologizing for not getting up earlier. Ghira leaves his study door open for her, and her mom still has to trick her into going in by giving her snacks for him.

Sun does try to talk to her like a normal person, but it's like they're speaking completely different languages. He wants to understand so badly. That's where things start going wrong.

"I didn't ask you to follow me," she snaps at him. "It's hard enough talking to them without you listening in!" That was an honest accident. At first. He only paused behind the door for a second... but she's right. He's gotta back off.

So he walks on eggshells and he tries not to cross boundaries, but he's never sure where they are until he's already fucked something up. And sometimes... sometimes curiosity gets the better of him. He just wants to know why she thinks everything is her fault—that way he can show her it isn't.

Ironically, he's pretty sure it's getting stabbed that lets him make the most progress on that front. Which, ow, but also—worth it! At least, it is once he can get her to stop looking at his shoulder like she was the one holding the knife. Whip? Whatever.

That night he's still flushed with success, and painkillers, and like an idiot he pushes too far again. "That girl. She's a friend of yours, right?"

"Yeah." Blake doesn't look up from Ilia's scroll.

"Got any other friends around? I mean, you met Neptune, and Sage and Scarlet—"

"No."

"C'mon, there's gotta be someone you played with as a kid, right? I swear, I'm only sorta fishing for embarrassing stories here."

"There's not, Sun."

He freezes. He's learning—too slowly—to recognize that tone. It's new since the fall of Beacon, and it means he's stepped on a landmine by accident. Except that for once he might actually know why. "Sorry," he says quickly. "I get that might be a sore subject, since he... uh..."

Her ears go flat. Sun's so glad she's stopped hiding them—and not just because they're beautiful, either. They're pretty much the only way he can read her moods nowadays. "Who told you about that?"

Ah. Shit.

"Your mom."

Blake lurches to her feet and paces back and forth across the carpet, gripping her right arm tightly with her left. "What did she tell you?"

"His name. That's it, I swear! Um, and kind of what he looks like. And that you were... y'know."

"Sun!"

"I'm sorry! I was just trying to figure out why it got to you so much. And I get it now! I mean, if somebody I used to care about went over to the dark side like that, I'd be pretty pissed too."

"I'm not angry!"

She looks angry, and waves a hand for emphasis. He doesn't mean to flinch, would do anything to take it back the instant it happens. Blake stumbles back, horrified, and hits the desk. A pencil-holder falls over and shatters on the floor.

"I—"

"Blake?" Ghira pounds on the door. "Everything alright in there?"

"Y-yeah." Her eyes dart around the room. "I knocked something over, that's all."

Silence, and Ghira's footsteps on the stairs.

"Uh," Sun says, and Blake crumples.

"I—I'm so sorry, I don't—why didn't you say anything?" She slumps against the wall and grabs her wrist hard enough to bruise. "No, that's—that's so stupid, it's not your responsibility to—"

Sun scrambles off the bed. "Hey," he says, trying for a grin. "You were right, about privacy and stuff, so. I did kinda have it coming."

And oh gods, he's somehow found the worst possible thing to say. Her hand twists, her nails digging into her arm, and her breathing comes fast and harsh. Sun scrambles to fix his mistake—"I mean, it's okay! Really! I've got my aura, remember? It barely even hurt!"

It's like speaking another language, a language where every word means your fault, your fault and everything he says makes it so much worse. He's panicking too, now, and her nails draw blood like her aura isn't even there.

"I'm sorry!" He doesn't know what to do. So he jerks to his feet and runs to the door and shouts, "Mrs. Belladonna!"

Kali is up the stairs in a heartbeat, shooing him out of the room. The last glimpse Sun gets is of her gathering Blake into a hug. Then the door swings shut and he's alone in the hallway with Ghira. Trying not to break and run under his glare.

After what feels like hours, Kali opens the door again and slips out. "She's alright," she whispers. "But I think it's best if you give her a few minutes before you talk to her."

"I'm really sorry!" Sun can't look at either of them. "I didn't want to upset her, I swear! I just wanted her to feel better."

"I know, dear." Kali hugs him. "That's what scared her."

Is that supposed to make sense to him? Sun opens his mouth to ask, then stops himself. Stuff like that is what got him into this mess in the first place. He has to wait for Blake to tell him. Can't go climbing over her hedges to find her—all he can do is give her his voice to follow.

There's a grunt from somewhere above him. Sun risks a glance over his shoulder and fights the urge to curl into a ball and hide.

"Ghira," Kali says, and shoos him down the stairs. "Neither of them need that right now."

Sun sits in the hallway alone, staring at the door. Ten minutes later, when he can't stand it anymore, he gets up and knocks.

"...Come in."

He eases it open gingerly, like something might explode if he moves too fast. Blake's sitting on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. Sun plops down next to her and says, "Hey."

She rubs her wrist. The marks have already faded into thin pink crescents, now that her aura is taking care of them. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm—"

"Sun." Blake grabs his hand. "None of that was your fault. I—I shouldn't have hit you like that. I should have just talked to you."

"I mean..." Sun swallows. "That... sounds like a better idea. For the future, y'know. But I meant it when I said it wasn't a big deal. I know you're going through a lot right now, and I don't wanna add to that."

"You're not. And you don't have to put up with something like that, okay?" She squeezes his hand once, then pulls away. "Not from anyone. Especially not from someone you care about."

His first instinct is to play it off. It really doesn't bother him, and it hurts to see her so upset about it. But, well, definition of insanity and all.

"I forgive you," he says instead.

"You shouldn't."

"Hey. My choice, remember?"

"It's easy to make excuses," she mutters, "but some people aren't worth it."

Sun sighs. "You know what? Maybe you're right. Maybe me, and your mom and dad, and Ruby and Weiss, and Yang—maybe we're all wrong and you're not worth it." He gives her a sideways hug. "But I don't think we are. And... maybe you could trust us on this? Even if you don't believe in yourself yet."

Her breath hitches, and she leans into his shoulder. The good one, thankfully, because he really doesn't want to find out what will happen if she jostles his bad one by accident. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he says. Because he's not sure he'll ever learn his way around her maze—but he'll keep looking as long as she needs.