Family Reunion

(Alternative Title: Don't Let Go)

A hit and run, they said.

An accident that nobody could've survived from. A tragedy. Something that should never happen to anyone, much less a couple with a newborn.

Blake was there the whole time. She'd say she stuck through it all because Yang was her best friend, but that would simply not be the truth. She listened, and she watched, and she observed as the tragedy unfold because she couldn't believe it.

She was there as the doctors and nurses and cops explained to Yang that they'd tried to get a contact on the only other known relative of this family, a Qrow Branwen, but couldn't reach him, so they had to reach out to her instead, despite her being young and barely reaching the legal age.

They were gentle, nurturing, and treating Yang like she was a baby and like she could destroy every furniture at any moment.

They did the best they could, they said.

They apologised, they said.

Sometimes people just died and Fate were unavoidable, they said.

Yang was motionless. A blank slate. A ragdoll. A puppet with its strings cut.

It worried Blake to no end.

Blake hoped her touches and occasional whispers of comforting words were enough for her. Though, the more cynical part of herself told her nothing would be enough for her, and nothing would fix this, and she would never be happy again, not after this.

The first word that came out of Yang's mouth was a small, "Is Dad…? Is he…?" and that was what snapped Blake, and made her realise that this was real, this was all happening, oh God, this was real.

They looked at each other, and unspoken words were said. Yang grabbed Blake tightly. So tight it hurt. Blake knew that was when it clicked for Yang too.

Blake didn't know what to say, but Yang hid herself in Blake's chest, and hiccuped and sobbed, and Blake knew she didn't need to say anything. She just hugged back and hoped it would be enough.

They stayed, unmoving, frozen in time, as the world kept on moving.

Blake's phone went off a couple of times, but she refused to acknowledge it. It was most likely her parents, wondering why she'd not gotten home yet, and if she was okay.

God, her parents. Her parents. What would she say to them?

A doctor cleared her throat. Yang whined and buried herself deeper into Blake. Blake tightened her embrace. It was up to her to deal with whatever was coming, it seemed.

She looked up. "Yes?"

The doctor told her Taiyang Xiao Long had awoken, and would like to see them. She explained that they better not waste time because they didn't know how long he'd stay conscious. That made Yang sob harder, and Blake glared at the doctor for being inconsiderate.

"I can't see him, Blake," Yang said. "I can't. I just can't. Please, don't let me see him."

Blake liked to think she understood. Hours before, Yang's father had been a source of resentment and an outlet of anger for her. He'd been an afterthought, something to brush off and away, a clown and a joke.

And now he was dying.

And Yang couldn't make sense of it all.

"That's alright," Blake whispered into her ears, soft. "I'll do it. I'll do it for you, Yang."

It was the least she could do.

Yang refused to let go of her, like a child clinging to their mother, their only source of warmth and comfort amidst all this chaos, but after gentle words and gentler touches, she had no choice but to let Blake leave her alone and hope she'd come back.

Blake approached the door, and her feet became heavy. She stood on the door for too many minutes. Do this for her, she thought to herself as a way of encouragement as she opened the door.

Blake kept her eyes pointedly away from the machines and tubes hooked into him, and how badly his body was damaged from the crash.

His face had no scars, only small scratches and bruises, and she found relief in that, and clung onto it.

His eyes were as gentle as they always were when he saw her. His smile was strained and weak, and it weakened Blake. Was this happening? Was she really doing this?

"Hey there, kiddo," he said. "I take it Yang's too afraid to come here."

Blake swallowed. "She wants to come, sir. She really does, but-"

His chuckle broke her words. "I know, I know, Blake. You don't have to defend her. I'd like to think I understand my daughter well enough."

There was something about it that was forlorn, and despairing. It told Blake that despite his neglect and emotional abandonment, Taiyang loved his daughter, more than anything.

He beckoned her to sit down, and she did. Blake didn't know what to do with her hands - whether to use it to hold his hands or keep them politely on her lap - so she linked them together and fidgeted.

"Yang loves you." The words blurted out of her mouth. Her eyes blurred, and she called herself a coward for being unable to look at him. "You have to know that. She loves you-"

"I know, Blake. I know she does, even if she pretends that she doesn't." Blake forced herself to look up and found him staring up into nothingness. "And even if she doesn't, that's still okay. She grew up to be a fine girl, Blake. That's all that matters." He rolled his head to the side to meet her eyes and smiled. "Plus, she has you, Blake. So I'm not worried."

Blake didn't know what to say. "I'll be there for her."

"I know," he said, and his smile widened. "I know you love her." In other circumstances, she'd have blushed and denied it vehemently. "I don't even need to make you promise me anything. You're a good girl, Blake. Yang's lucky to have you."

Blake expected something morbid to happen. Like the beeping of his heart monitor slowing down before stopping altogether, or suddenly increasing in speed into an alarming rate. But this wasn't a movie, and all that happened was that a nurse came by and told her visiting hours were over.

Yang reached out to her and held her and demanded answers from her as soon as Blake walked out of the room. "Is he- What did he say? Blake, is he okay? Is he going to make it? He's going to make it, right? Blake? Blake, please tell me he's going to make it. Blake, answer me. Answer me, Blake. Blake!"

Blake couldn't tell her. Not about her dad's potential last words, not about her dad never making it out alive, not about anything. How could she? She pulled Yang in for another hug. Yang struggled, at first, but she was tired and Blake was stubborn, so she sunk into it.

Mere hours ago Blake had been irritated and amused and exparated, and Yang had been her cocky self. Mere hours ago she'd been Yang's best friend, and they'd been planning to go to the mall to waste their evening away.

And now she was coming to the realisation that she loved Yang, and the closest thing Yang had to a parent was dying, and all was not okay.

So, um, if you didn't know: I'm quitting fan fiction. Fully. I'll still post the remaining chapters of this story, along with S:BL, but afterwards... yeah, no.

I seriously hope you enjoyed reading this, especially that this is, well, one of my last stories. It's not special, or anything, but... yeah.

Sorry if this A/N has a sour note to it. I'm not "doing too well" right now.