V

Renewal

Yang went stiff as a board, frozen in place like a pyrite stalagmite, save for the light shaking of her body as it came down from the adrenaline high. Her partner seemed to be in a similar state, her slender fingers twitching as they rested high on her back.

Either alarms were ringing in her head or the blood surging through her veins was causing her ears to hear things. Blake had up until now been respecting her space, and the sudden closeness felt stifling in consideration of all the thoughts unresolved they had between them. Maybe it was her residual anger from the encounter with the Grimm and its too-real puppet in the shape of her partner that was causing her to feel resentment. In spite of that, it's not like she wanted to push her away.

She wanted Blake there. She wanted her close. It was all she ever wanted when the nightmares came crawling on a quiet night, when the terrors hit her waking mind on an otherwise beautiful spring day.

And yet it felt wrong. Additionally, it felt like she was stealing comfort. Selfishly, it gave Yang a sense of relief because it revealed that Blake was not acting out of guilt alone, but need.

Something had clearly shaken her, and the recollection of the mirror image of the faunus flit through her mind like a rapid-fire slideshow. Yang felt her stomach turn as she remembered that she entertained for a moment too long that the apparition was actually Blake. How was it that she had fallen for an illusion yet again? It was a hallucination, and yet the damage her aura absorbed was very real.

"Blake?" Yang finally said just to break the silence and hopefully get somewhere. There was no immediate threat as far as she could detect, but she was set on edge after all that had happened just tonight.

Blake had no words; her only response was to curl her fingers deep into the back of Yang's jacket.

Yang opened her mouth to protest. When the words died on her tongue, she instead allowed herself to relax a little and began moving her hands to reciprocate the gesture. It was only when her fingers skimmed barely above the fabric of Blake's tailcoat that her partner suddenly regained her self-awareness. Blake jolted her ears upwards and released Yang, gasping; she pushed off from Yang, leaving the latter mired in perplexion and the former embarrassed, wide-eyed and choking on half-formed words.

"I… I'm sorry, Yang!" she stammered while wringing her hands. "I should have controlled myself," she said with a shake of her head. "I let my composure slip. I-I had no right—" And on she went, castigating herself.

Yang frowned, seeing that Blake was still at war with herself. She had certainly been more assertive since they reunited, more willing to put in the first word on a matter, but she was still an ambivalent mess. Even after reportedly taking the lead in foiling the White Fang's attack on Haven Academy, which Yang had to admit had saved them since they would have been buried under the debris had the terrorists been allowed to detonate their bombs, Blake Belladonna still could not address her without first swimming through an ocean of self-doubt.

Unable to bear the sight of Blake flailing about nervously, Yang closed the space between them in a single stride and cupped the back of Blake's head in her hand. The effect was immediate, stunned silence from the faunus; Yang wasn't able to get an exact read on her emotions as she pulled her face into her shoulder, simply acting on the first instinct of what she felt was right. She felt Blake go rigid again as if she were ready to jump back; instead she shuddered like she suddenly caught a chill, but once she felt it was safe Blake again clutched at the back of Yang's jacket, albeit a little more gently. Yang sighed, releasing her apprehension with that held breath.

"Why?" Yang asked her quietly, but sharply.

Blake twitched her ears, her awareness betrayed when all she wanted to do was hide away, partly in shame and partly in fear. Whatever happened to cause those illusions, she wondered if those were the truest, innermost feelings that her partner held towards her.

"Why what?" Blake replied nervously, doing her best at keeping her words steady.

"Why do you keep acting like you've given up on yourself?"

Blake's ears flicked on their own accord and slowly pinned back until they were flat against her head. Blake listened to the breath Yang took as she relaxed her grip on the blonde's jacket. She drew back, but the brawler wouldn't let her retreat all the way. The way Yang held onto her arms, lightly but with resolve, told her that she expected an answer; she also wouldn't hold her against her will if she chose to pull away. Blake felt alarm as she knew this was a test of some kind; for the moment Blake lingered, her eyes briefly searching Yang's face before avoiding the taller one's eyes and instead sighting her prosthetic. Her stare was intense, and Blake knew that look. In the past, Yang had respected her privacy, but that look promised unpleasantness if she didn't get some kind of explanation.

"Wherever I go," Blake spoke softly, "it's just danger that follows me. Ever since I left the White Fang I never wanted to get close to anyone because I was afraid that as soon as I did, they would end up hurt—because of me." Blake sniffed, and it was then that Yang seemed to notice the halfway dried streaks on her face. "But you already knew that. You've known that for a long time. I'm not worth that misery. I'm better off alone—"

"Stop it," growled Yang, already scowling. "Are you even hearing yourself right now?"

Blake froze, gaze arrested by the pair of lilac eyes threatening to catch fire. "If we'd never met, you'd still have your—"

"Stop." Perhaps the most startling thing about Yang's words were the utter calm with which she said them, a soft sound as sobering and implacable as the rumbling of a far off storm. Blake held her breath for a beat and let herself exhale.

"I already told you," said Yang, releasing an exasperated sigh, "that I would have given up my life. You were—are worth that to me." As were all her friends, Blake knew, but she had to wonder at the emphasis.

"Losing my arm was tough, sure," Yang continued, "but when you left without saying anything, I lost more than my partner, more than my friend—I lost my heart. Getting up out of bed every day after that was a struggle." Yang hooded her eyes. "What you did wrong was not getting close to us, it wasn't bringing your baggage to our doorstep; it was you ditching us when we needed you the most."

Blake knew she meant me when she said us.

Her ears went flush against her head again and the urge to avert her gaze was strong, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the lilac-colored pair bearing down on her with solar intensity. She could see the pain in those eyes and they were like a dagger to her chest, because she knew that she was responsible for that. Her face, dewy with sweat and humidity native to the cavern, remained unreadably calm. Blake knew that she was upset, but she wasn't sure if there was anything she could do to help.

"I know what I did was wrong," Blake said lowly, haltingly, unable to hold Yang's stare anymore. "I should have known better than to have vanished the way I did." She sucked in her bottom lip, biting until she felt like she was on the verge of breaking skin. Yang remained silent and she began to feel her guts knot up as her imaginings of the blonde's thoughts began rocketing around inside her head. "I did it anyway. And I feel like if you never forgive me, it would be everything I deserve."

Her words hurt like a year old wound, one that had only partially healed before it was again split open. She didn't want to lose Yang's friendship, if she even still had the privilege of that title. Blake kept her eyes clear despite the urge to break down. Guilt wrenched at her stomach and the self-loathing part of herself whispered even louder dissurances as her heart thumped against her eardrums.

Yang remained silent, waiting, but Blake had nothing else to add. Her dread only grew with the silence, and she simply cast her eyes downward and awaited the baptism of fire she felt awaited her.

Blake's eyes widened then, but not for being consumed in a bloom of fiery condemnations. Instead there was warmth, a calming radiance like the sun on a winter's day. The smell of roadworn leather and gunsmoke permeated her senses as she was again encircled in Yang's strong embrace, the blonde having chosen to express herself as she always has when words failed her.

The way they had planned on leaving the mine was sealed. No matter how many times Yang punched it, even with her mechanized arm, there was no getting through the collapse. It appeared to be intentional, and if it was done from the outside then it was unlikely that anything short of high-powered Dust demolitions would be able to get through the collapse.

Yang slammed her metal fist against the loose rocks and was gainless; at this point it was simply an outward show of frustration, and she slumped to her knees with a curse. Blake strained her hearing for any signs of oncoming danger from behind, though it seemed like they would have to go back the way they came. She had the map out in her hands, and she looked for less obvious ways out that she may have missed earlier.

"Maybe we could find a breach made by that King Taijitu," Blake said as she examined the map. "Or others like it," she added.

"It could be miles of walking underground," Yang replied miserably, her words directed into the dirt. "If we can even find one."

"I could hear the wind from the elevator shaft," Blake said, looking up from the map. "The seal might have failed with time. It'll be dangerous, but we might be able to get out that way after all."

Yang looked back at Blake with a dangerous gleam in her eyes, one similar to the one she had when she boasted about having the key out ahead of their climb.

"Let's head back then." Yang dusted her pants and rose to return to Blake. There was a clatter and she stumbled and lost her footing. The blonde hit the ground with a thud and a groan, and Blake had to hold down a chuckle. She remembered Yang being less clumsy than this...

"Don't twist your ankle again," Blake said as she hastened to Yang's side. The bruiser waved Blake off as she turned and sat up.

"I'm fine. Ow. I just rolled my foot on something."

Blake suddenly gasped and drew back, her voice hushed. "Oh gods."

Alerted, Yang looked back to where Blake had directed her attention. As the light from her scroll shone on the ground in front of the sealed exit, it revealed the hollow gaze of a human skull half buried in the dirt in front of the collapse.

Yang drew a breath softly. "Yeah," she whispered, her widened eyes fixed on the empty stare. "Let's not end up like you."

Yang could not take her eyes off of Blake as they marched back to the atrium, as it was labeled on the map. She let the faunus take point by virtue of her night vision and superior sense of hearing and herself stayed a few steps behind, left to contemplate her thoughts as they walked in silence.

You weren't dependable. The words from the apparition of Blake stung like a persistent tinnitus; she favored the terminus of her arm and its replacement. It had begun to ache in the same way it had when it woke her, a pain that she couldn't soothe.

The words continued to ring in her head, and by this point her annoyance was shifting into anger. Did it mean they had a din of truth to them? Yang had weathered insults and innuendoes her whole life with no more than a toss of her hair and a laugh. Growing up fast meant that she had to have a thick skin. What set her off were the things that poked at real faults, the thoughts and words that prodded at the real insecurities that she hid beneath a layer of good humor.

Yang looked at her prosthetic and felt guilt weigh on her shoulders; it was as though the implement that allowed her to carry on with nary a missed beat also served as a permanent reminder of her shortcomings, an anchor to her past mistakes.

She failed at being the defender, the protector. It was her unspoken role in the team, and she had been found wanting. Blake was an unwitting reminder of it, too. Somehow they had managed to escape Adam's wrath that night, and Yang knew that her recklessness put her partner out as well. She wondered if that had anything to do with her leaving—after all, when your partner, who relies on her fists to do her job, loses her arm and her ability to fight, why stick with them?

Yang felt her head wobble. She couldn't decide if the tired feeling was from walking and fighting the whole night on lost sleep, or if it was simply the current groundward turn of her mood. She squeezed her eyes shut and gave her head a brusque shake; she couldn't afford to let her bad thoughts go like a runaway train while they were still so far from safety.

She looked back up at Blake. Her white coat cut a dramatic figure in the low light. The blonde watched as her catlike ears stood rigid and alert, pivoting at the slightest disruption of the silence. Sometimes they did so without prompt, and Yang could only imagine that it was because they picked up on something that she could not. A feeling of uselessness bubbled up, a sum of the perceived indolence and the disquieted thoughts in her head.

"Yang," Blake's voice piped up, gratefully breaking the silence, "what happened back there, in the grotto?" She saw those electrum irises gleam back at her.

"I dunno," Yang answered, staring right back at Blake. "When I walked up to that crystal formation, I looked back and found myself alone. Then I turned around and suddenly there you were. But it wasn't you. Not really."

Blake hooded her eyes for a moment, looking thoughtful.

"I saw you, too," she said, prompting a head tilt from Yang. "But you said things that I couldn't imagine you actually saying," Blake said, her voice momentarily frail. "The words were cruel. I know you can get angry, but you wouldn't threaten… me, would you?"

Yang seemed shocked at the idea. "No, Blake," she basically coughed out, starting to see parallels with the experience she had. "I couldn't ever hurt you," she said, repeating the words she had to the specter of her partner.

They passed a moment in silence wherein she thought she heard Blake sigh, and, with a sarcastic chuckle, she recounted her own experience. "Your clone wasn't very kind to me, either," Yang said with a grim smile. "But I couldn't help but wonder if some of the things 'she' said were… partly true."

Blake looked back over her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

Yang suddenly felt taciturn. She cast her eyes about, fully aware that while she could only see glints of Blake's eyes in the jostling light of her scroll, she and her cues were on display for the night-sighted faunus.

"It's… it's not important," she said halfheartedly. "It was just an illusion."

Yang crossed her arms and avoided Blake's doubtful glance, but she felt her aura burn where the illusory blade had struck her.

The two huntresses found the atrium as it was when they first came to it earlier, and from appearances it remained undisturbed except by their earlier passage. They came to a stop at the edge of the room, and while Blake canvassed it by sight, Yang checked her scroll's face and found that the hours were coming upon dawn. They really had spent the entirety of the night down here, she thought dejectedly, and now the concern was what the rest of their team would think when they got up and discovered that they were down one Yang and one Blake. The last thing Yang wanted was for Ruby and Qrow to work themselves up into a panic and launch a search party for them. The blonde knew her family, and it was especially possible given recent events. The battle at Haven was still fresh on everybody's minds, present company included.

Yang turned her attention back to her partner. When Blake was satisfied that there had been no passage of anything besides themselves, she stepped out towards the partly jammed door and leaned through the small opening in the wire-crossed door; there she strained her ears as she often had before.

"I can hear the wind above," she confirmed for Yang. Pumping her fists into her palms, one and then the other, Yang prepared for action as she joined Blake at the ledge. The darkness of the shaft yawned out below them, and Yang felt a wariness where she hadn't when they begun their earlier ascent.

"The others will be awake soon," Yang gave as an aside as she gripped one of the gates and forced it open. "How do you want to approach this?" she added, deciding it was wise to find out what the eyes of the team thought before they took a leap.

"It looks like we can just climb the tracks the rest of the way," Blake said. "I don't know what we'll find when we reach the top, but from here I can't make out any hindrances or breaks… or…" Blake's voice gradually quieted until it trailed off.

Yang felt the urge to hold her breath, lest she disrupt the concentration Blake had fallen into. She waited for words that didn't come. Her eyes scanned her partner as her stance grew tense and her ears pointed forward, golden eyes also fixed at some indiscernible point in the darkness. As Blake's eyes panned down towards the furthest point of the abyss, her hand gravitated towards the hilt of her weapon. Before Yang could voice her concern at the growing dread, Blake did it for her.

"Grimm in the levels below. They're riled up." Blake looked back at her. "Dozens—" she said, she paused, and took a breath, "—hundreds. We need to go."