AN: Okay, so, a month after my last update, here's another one. This one is pretty juicy at nearly 4,500 words, and now we'll be actively beginning Ruby's recovery phase. I will give some warning that this chapter is one of the darker ones in the story. You'll have to read and see, but I tried to keep everyone in character as much as possible. Life isn't going to get any harder for Team RWBY, that's for certain...

Well, as always, read, enjoy, and please review!

Purpose Found

"How smart is your sister?"

Weiss blinked, surprised by Blake's question. They were in her hospital room, opera playing softly in the background, and sheaves of paper spread out on her bed. She envied Blake in her jeans and tee-shirt, as the hospital gown she was wearing was an ugly green that no one could make look good, and it was open in the back, giving one the perception of continuously mooning people. She sat back, wincing at the twinge of pain emanating from her right shoulder. The pain meds were good, but not so good as to eliminate all discomfort. Sure the arm was in a sling to help discourage movement, but that only did so much. "Winter?" she asked for clarification, confused by Blake's question. Blake had never shown much interest in her sister, and for good reason.

"Unless you have another sister that you aren't telling me about, then yes…and I do dearly hope that there isn't another."

Weiss rolled her eyes as she stretched her legs out, careful not to send the piles of papers sliding to the floor. "No, I don't have another sister. But Winter?" She paused, thinking back to just barely adequate report cards, Father's disappointed scowls, and Winter's flippant dismissal of the issue. "I think she's a bit smarter than she lets on, but I'd be surprised if she's smarter than I am. But I can't say for certain…grades have never been important to her, to Father's immense frustration. Why?"

And then Blake grimaced, as though she had bitten into something very unpleasant. "Damn, she is good," she murmured, brows furrowed angrily.

"Blake, what's all this about?"

Blake leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as her hands came together. "Bear with me for a moment. Imagine, if you would, that you were a chess player participating in a massive tournament. Not the only player in the room, not by far, but you are still a player."

"Do go on," Weiss retorted drily. What was Blake on about?

"I asked you to bear with me, Weiss," Blake admonished, face somber. "Well, now try and imagine the shock of finding out that you aren't a player, you are actually just a piece in another person's game."

"Oh, spare me the horror. What does this have to do with Winter?"

"I thought Winter was a piece in the game I was playing, maybe even another player, though that didn't seem likely. She isn't. She's a player in the game within which I am a piece."

Silence ruled for a moment, and then Weiss sighed as she brought up her hand to rub at her temple, an attempt to forestall the headache she could practically feel coming on. "You aren't making any sense. Please explain this delightful little parable to me…I'm evidently not bright enough to understand it."

Blake turned in her chair, reaching up to the counter to dig around in her briefcase. Pulling out a stack of papers, she turned to face Weiss again. "Allow me to introduce Cyan Verres to you."

Weiss scowled. "Okay, now you're starting to annoy me. I just wanted to go over the company paperwork to make sure my airheaded sister isn't going to ruin anything, and here you are talking in riddles and speaking of strange people."

Blake's somber expression didn't change as she handed Weiss the papers. "This will all make a terrible sense very soon. Cyan Verres was born in Vacuo but he immigrated to Atlas. He lives alone, out on the edges of the kingdom, and all of his work is done from the computer. He attended multiple colleges online, and always placed first in the class standings. He currently has a Masters in Operations Management, and two bachelor's degrees, one in International Business and the other in Finance. I have confirmed that he's currently in a Doctorate program for Operations Management, and as before, he's at the head of his class."

Weiss flipped through the papers while Blake was speaking, scanning over the data. Mr. Verres was apparently 34, and had no living relatives. Fairly average face, from the ID picture, and he wore glasses. His blue-green hair was slightly mussed up, and his face was slightly wrinkled. "Okay, what does that have to do with Winter?"

"He is Winter."

Weiss gave a short bark of laughter, ignoring the brief burst of pain it sent off. "Seriously? You know how much money this would take? And it would take specialists to set up all this information. And Winter isn't bloody smart enough to pull this off!"

Blake shook her head. "Going back to my game analogy. I've always viewed Winter as being a piece to be used by the SDC…well, used or ignored while she partied her life away. But three days ago, when she officially assumed control of the Company and we met, she proved that she's so much more than that…and a great, great deal more intelligent than we thought. Maybe even smarter than I am."

Weiss stared at Blake for a long moment. Blake wasn't a fool, and neither was she. If Blake said her sister was that smart, she'd be stupid to ignore her and dismiss her words. "Explain."

And so Blake did. Cyan Verres was a fictional character, but a very well constructed one. His birth certificate would pass any scrutiny, he was a well respected writer for multiple news agencies, but he always worked from home, a home that was well removed from other people. The nearest neighbor was two miles away, and Verres' house was set in a stand of woods. The lights did come on, and there was a car parked out front, but the lights seemed to be automatic, or possibly remotely controlled. All his correspondence and internet work was indeed sent through the house's IP address. His jobs were enough for him to pay for his mortgage, his taxes, and his student loans. The only thing that Verres was lacking was face-to-face contact with anyone.

But how did this link Winter with this fictional man? Blake had the advantage of knowing what to look for, and she explained that she had a trusted man hack into the internet provider's database. Whenever Verres posted something or sent anything out from his computer, he received an email from an outside IP address, and whenever he received any email from somewhere other than that IP address, it was automatically forwarded to three separate IP addresses, all three of which turned out to be automatic routers that sent the forwarded email to…you guessed it…the same IP address that triggered his sending out his work. And that IP address was traced to Winter's posh apartment in Atlas.

Weiss remained silent through Blake's report, but her face became more and more clouded with anger. "That sneaky little…!" Weiss fumed. "How dare she? She could have easily taken control of the Company, but instead she played stupid while I worked so hard to please father? That is so infuriating, the little brat! Wait until I get my hands on her!"

"That's not all, and I'd be careful in any actions taken against her," Blake warned, and Weiss sneered.

"Or what, she'll beat me in chess? She turned down the opportunity to be the head of the Company…I'm in control of the finances…let's see how smug she is after I stop her allowance!"

"Weiss, it's not that simple. You're doing the same thing I did, letting anger cloud your judgment. She caught me by surprise, outmaneuvered me, and kept me off balance during that meeting. I won't let her do the same to you. If we're going to beat her…if we need to beat her, we must keep our heads and keep calm. She was able to break all your encryptions and found out about…sensitive issues."

Weiss's mouth ran dry at that. All of her encryptions? "What do you mean?"

"She knows about your negotiations with the White Fang, as well as my traffic incident." And then Blake paused, face growing troubled and, dare Weiss say it, guilty. "She also found something else that might be worse."

"Something worse? Blake, if Winter leaks the contents of that meeting before we can put the right spin on it, it could be disastrous, especially now that there's practically a war between the human kingdoms and a Faunus terrorist group! I don't even want to know what that would do to the Company! What could possibly be worse than that?"

Blake sighed as she picked up her scroll, fiddling with it. "Weiss, did you ever notice any data inconsistencies that might have begun during your takeover and continuing through to today?"

Weiss frowned, leaned back in the bed. She was no expert on the literally thousands of parts of data that was processed daily, but she did like to keep her eyes open and an ear on the ground. She could even honestly claim that corruption had been reduced during her leadership, with evidence of bribes being hunted with a vengeance. But any data inconsistencies? "No, I can't think of any, why do you ask?"

Blake nervously bit her lip, then took a steeling breath, and Weiss suddenly remembered the minutes leading up to the meeting with the White Fang. There had been something Blake hadn't told her. "You didn't notice anything, nor did any of our data analysts. I had been careful to make sure that everything fell within normal expenditures and materiel loss, and yet, Winter saw right through it…"

"Blake, what are you saying?" Weiss asked slowly, quietly, eyes narrowed, analyzing every move that her friend made. Guilt, fear, shame…she did not like to see these emotions in Blake's face, eyes…even the way she held herself. But finally Blake lifted her scroll and turned it so that Weiss could see the screen. Weiss frowned as she leaned forward, trying to read the sentence that Blake had written on the notes app. Then her face went slack in disbelief as she tried to understand, to comprehend the sentence that was glaring her in the face. "Is…is this true?" she asked tremulously, hoping that it was a cruel joke.

Blake nodded as she took her scroll back, deleting that evil sentence. "Winter was able to deduce its existence with less than an hour at your terminal. I feel as though she's a greater threat than the Crimson Claw, in some ways. So long as she gets what she wants, she should remain a non-issue, but if she starts getting ambitious, then-"

She continued to talk, but Weiss couldn't hear her over the loud ringing in her ears, and she swore she saw red. The shock and disbelief had turned into the pain of betrayal and the furious rage that Blake would do this to her. It took her some very long minutes of concentration, but finally she was able to speak. "Shut up," she managed to spit out, as though the words themselves were poisonous. And damn Blake for remaining so passive, her eyes sad and expectant. Bloody expectant of what was coming! "How dare you! I can't even…just…!" she started, and made a sound of wordless fury. Through it all, Blake remained silent.

Heart pounding and stomach sick, Weiss struggled to find the words to express what she was feeling. "I can't even understand how…how is this right?! How dare you take my Company and sully it with these deplorable acts? Have you no common sense, no decency?!"

"I was doing it to protect your interests," Blake offered quietly, and Weiss's left hand snapped up, and for a terrible moment, Weiss almost let fly with the slap. But she controlled herself. Barely, but she managed it.

"My interests? My interests are to not see my Company continue the way that it has been in the past! I believe in the Rule of Law, and the SDC is NOT above the law! No person nor organization is!" She took a few deep breaths, trying futilely to calm down. No, she was too angry, too hurt, too betrayed by the one she thought she could depend on the most. "Winter knows about it…what if it was leaked to the press, or worse, to the White Fang?! Here I am, making promises to a brighter future, and you're fucking torturing Faunus on an SDC property! Are you trying to fucking undermine all that I am working for?!"

The swear words took her by surprise, for she had always viewed them as tools used by the less eloquent and dignified. She was above such coarse words…but now? She felt perfectly justified in using them. She also realized that she had openly admitted what Blake had done, and she glanced furtively at the door leading to the hall. Please, let no one have heard!

Blake looked away. "It is sometimes necessary to have something like this in order to protect the lives of the innocent. I have gotten good intelligence from there, including the information that allowed you to reach Ruby in time. If I hadn't done what I did, she would be dead now," she said in that same quiet, dead voice. Then she turned to face Weiss again, face almost pleading. "Please, it was necessary!"

But Weiss wasn't having it, no matter the truth in Blake's words. A strange, brittle calm fell upon her as her anger went from burning hot to icy cold, and she could no more have stopped an avalanche than she could have stopped the words coming from her mouth. "Necessary? I'll tell you what's necessary, Belladonna. I am going to go visit Ruby. When I get back, you will be gone, and I don't want to see or hear from you again for the rest of today. You will no longer visit me. You will personally oversee the complete destruction of that property, and you will be the one to erase any evidence of it from the SDC records. When I am released from the hospital, you will have your most trusted personnel escort the individual you got the information on the hospital strike from to me so that I may beg him for forgiveness for what the SDC did to him. Your employment with the SDC is…" and now she paused, throat tightening and eyes burning, her mind's wailing in despairing protest that was heard even through her still burning anger. This was her friend!

But now she had to act as the CEO of the SDC, not as Weiss Schnee, friend of Blake Belladonna. And truly, if Blake wasn't her friend, she'd have had her arrested for what she had done. At least let her actions and words, harsh though they were, protect Blake from the law…

She forced herself to speak through the angry tears that were mere moments from falling. "Blake Belladonna, your employment with the SDC is considered suspended until further notice. You will receive a stipend. You will not act in any official capacity as an employee of the SDC. You are not allowed on any SDC property without permission." By the end, her words were barely above a hoarse croak, and she knew that she had to leave. Unable to look at Blake, she swung her legs off the bed, knocking a few of the stacks of paper to the floor. She faltered, seized by the desire to pick them up, but she couldn't stay, not a minute longer. "I'm sorry!" she whispered, and she fled into the hall, shoulder beginning to burn. She heard someone, maybe one of the aides, call her name, but she ignored the voice, and instead walked as quickly as she could to the stairway that would lead her one floor down to where Ruby was.

She only managed to get through the door before she slumped down on the steps, sobbing. Grief, anger, guilt, and an overwhelming sense of betrayal swirled within her, and she had to fight not to vomit. But above it all, she fervently wished that she wasn't the CEO of the SDC, that she hadn't been the heiress when she went to Beacon, that she had merely been another girl. Logically, she knew that if she hadn't been the heiress, she never would have gone to Beacon, but all the same, she yearned for a world where she could have only been a Huntress, where her friendship wasn't being tarnished by duty and responsibility.

She remained in that stairwell for a long time.

xxxXXXxxx

Ruby sat in the cool darkness of her room, barely paying attention to the noises coming from beyond the closed curtain that covered her room's door. She had no interest in the busy lives of the nurses and aides and doctors that scurried about, trying to heal the wounded and sick. Two of the aides had come in a short while ago, rolled her on her side, and had crammed a pillow underneath her back and buttocks. While they worked, they had explained that it was to keep pressure off of her back and tailbone until she was well enough to get up and move around on her own. But until then, they needed to prevent any bed sores. She hadn't said anything while they talked…nor had she moved a muscle while they shifted her around. They had asked if she had wanted something to drink, and she had given a miniscule shake of her head, the only movement that she had made while they were there.

Then they had left, leaving her in the darkness. No negligence on their part, she didn't want the lights on. The darkness complimented her mood, and the terrible irony was not lost to her. She could remember quite clearly telling herself that she wouldn't ever fall into depression if she got really hurt…she'd drive on, make herself better. What didn't kill her made her stronger, and all that sentimental claptrap. But now…

She forced herself to look at the stump, and had to fight the urge to vomit. Objectively, she knew that it was actually a textbook amputation surgery, and that the doctors did a phenomenal job on it. But she couldn't be freakin' objective, because it was HER ARM! She could only see the ugliness behind the terrible wound, the stitches still holding the flaps of skin together, the dark, rusty red of the scabbed over areas…she was repulsed by the very sight of her arm. And even now, it didn't feel real, like she would wake up and her arm would be back. It certainly didn't help that she could still feel it…sometimes pins and needles, at other times her missing arm merely itched…but it was maddening to have an itch that couldn't ever be scratched.

…and why couldn't she be allowed the debatable mercy of even remembering losing the arm? She still couldn't remember much beyond waiting for Weiss to get out of work. It was…jarring, to say the least, to have you last solid memory to be one of happy anticipation and then waking up to everything being wrong. An eye gone, an arm gone, talk of bloody war. It wasn't right. At least if she could remember the injury she could tie what she was now to the event itself. Yes, she'd suffer from the trauma of remembering her arm blowing off, but at least she'd have the memory! Without it, she doubted that this would ever feel real. She watched carefully as she lifted her stubby right arm, shuddered, looked away. How could she ever be the Huntress that she had been with such a handicap?

Yes, yes, she knew that there were prosthetics that were amazingly advanced…but nothing so advanced that it would allow her to wield Crescent Rose with the same dexterity that she had had before. She might be able to learn another weapon, one that only required one hand, but it wouldn't be the same…nothing would ever be the same again. It was that thought that continued to echo in her head over and over, punctuating her other thoughts of worthless denial and of crushing depression. She had lost her purpose in her young life, and that hurt, hurt in ways she couldn't come to grips with. Professor Ozpin had come in, and had offered her a position as an assistant professor, thinking he was helping her. But she knew in her heart of hearts that such a position would be equal to spiritual suicide. Being on the campus would merely remind her, day after day, of what she had lost, and being surrounded by young, fit, and whole students who could do what she could not would be more than she could bear. She appreciated Ozpin's offer, but she couldn't accept it, not in a million years…not the way she was now. She had to find her way again. And how could she do that without her arm? And with that question, the thought that had been floating on the edge of her awareness finally came to the fore, though she wished she could deny it.

She was going to have to find another profession. All of her hopes and dreams had collapsed, and she couldn't do a damn thing. But worse than the loss of her future as a Huntress was the inescapable feeling that she had let her mother down. How could she honor her mom's memory when she couldn't follow in her footsteps anymore? She shifted slightly, turning her head so that she could press her face into her pillow as that bleak darkness seized her soul.

But before the tears could come, the doorway's curtain was briskly pulled open. Ruby glanced at the person standing in the door, fully expecting to see her nurse. Upon recognizing who it was, she frowned and forced herself to sit up in the bed, doing her best to ignore the pain and weakness that flared up, trying to drag her back down. "Weiss?" she croaked, hating how her voice sounded now. Gravelly and ugly, and it hurt to speak for long periods of time, or even to raise her voice beyond a conversational tone. She winced, fighting the urge to clear her throat as she brought her hand up to touch the sides of her neck. Then she noticed Weiss's trembling lip, red eyes, and blotched cheeks. "Weiss, what's wrong? Have you been crying?" Her eyes narrowed. "Whose butt do I need to kick?"

Weiss didn't answer any of her questions, and instead moved to the side of her bed, her steps jerky. Before Ruby could ask any other questions, Weiss fairly collapsed at her side, right arm in its sling carelessly banging against one of the bed's rails, but Weiss didn't seem to notice, her head bowed with grief more than pain. Instead, her left hand dropped onto Ruby's stomach and fisted into her bed covers. Ruby was bewildered, not sure what to do…Weiss had visited before, but never in a mood like this! "W-Weiss?" she stammered, and to her horror, Weiss's shoulders began to shake, and she could hear sniffles. "Weiss, please stop crying!" she pleaded desperately. "I never know what to do when you cry!"

But Weiss didn't stop, and so Ruby, unsure of what else to do, reached out and placed her hand on Weiss's shoulder, careful to avoid the mass of bandages. It took a great deal of effort, but she found the strength to begin rubbing her closest friend's shoulder and back. They stayed like that for several long moments, but finally Weiss's tears started to abate. "Weiss, what's going on? What's wrong?" she rasped quietly, trying to make her deep concern audible past her damaged throat and voice.

Weiss looked up at her, and her heart lurched uncomfortable. Tears still streamed down Weiss's face, and her expression was…broken. It lacked hope and will and pride and everything that made Weiss so beautiful. "Ruby," she whispered, voice catching on her tears. "Ruby, please come back to us…please get better."

Ruby looked away with a hollow, bitter laugh at that. "What use would I be to you right now? I can't even hunt anymore…"

From the corner of her eye, she saw Weiss's face crumple. "Ruby, we don't need a Huntress…we need our team leader. We need the binding force that made Team RWBY what we were!" She broke off, looked away, a profound sadness glimmering in her eyes. "It's just…nothing is the same anymore…the world is changing right now, and nothing is as it seems." Was it Ruby's imagination, or was there a note of defeat in Weiss's words? Weiss, defeated? Impossible! But then Weiss looked back at her, and Ruby cringed. That was a look of hopeless defeat in her eyes. "Ruby, we need you…" she started, hesitated, and then continued in a strangled whisper as her tears started to flow again. "I need you."

Ruby swallowed nervously at that, butterflies fluttering momentarily in her stomach before she squashed them. Weiss didn't mean it like that, even though Ruby wished she did. No, Weiss merely meant that she needed her old team leader back. Ruby sighed, turned her head, glanced at the hideous stump, and she tentatively tried to bring the right corner of her mouth up in a mockery of a smile, but stopped as her burnt skin tugged and flared up in pain. How tempting it was to just stay here, wallowing in the ruins of her future.

But…

Her friends needed her. If for no one else, she would work on healing, be the leader that they needed, and at the end of it all, maybe then she could fade away into oblivion, letting this living nightmare come to a close. But first, she had a job to do. She took her hand off of Weiss's shoulder, grasped the bedrail, and laboriously pulled herself so that she was sitting fully up. "Weiss, could you get my nurse? I want to see if I can work with physical therapy today. I'm not getting any better just lying around."

Weiss blinked at her, and then smiled. It was a smile tinged with deep sadness, but behind it was a joy that was as radiant as the full moon. And as she smiled softly in return, Ruby felt as though the light of the smile pierced through the dark miasma of despair that had enshrouded her. Weiss's smile was the light at the end of the tunnel…might as well start making her way towards it.

It would be much later that Ruby realized that Weiss's teary pleas were just what she needed to pull herself out of her funk and start the long and hard process of healing. It would be a long, hard road to travel, but if Weiss was there with her, it would be worth it, every difficult step…