AN: Holy gee willickers, it HAS been a while! Part of it was having a massive case of writer's block for the first scene, and I've also been working a lot of overtime. Meh, sometimes I really hate having to adult. But, in other news, my wife and I are looking to buy a house! It's super exciting, and while the home we are looking at is firmly entrenched in the 1970s (why was vomit green EVER a good color for a living room?!) it seems to be structurally sound, has lots of room, and there's also a barn/garage, and it has plenty of room for gardening. We're totes excited!

However, that will impact the writing a little. I have a good idea of what's going to happen the next chapter, but we're going to be busy with house things, I'm going to be concentrating in my original work so that maybe I can get published someday, and my Reserves unit is ramping up towards our ready year. I'm going to be busy. I will try to get the next chapter up within a month, though!

As always, read, enjoy, and please review!

Going Home

How fitting that it was raining, Yang thought as she stared out over the solemn rows of tombstones arrayed neatly over low, rolling hills covered in green grass that was all the more vibrant in the dim light of the storm. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and she clutched her umbrella closer, the pit-pit-patter of rain drops on its surface not enough to drown out the sobbing around her. She shifted uncomfortably in the somber black suit that she had had to buy for this event. Normally she'd be annoyed at how her hair would frizz from the damp air, but now was not the time for such frivolous thoughts. She drew in a deep breath, the sharp tang of freshly disturbed earth heady over the smell of the rain, of the wet grass, and of the crowd gathered here today to honor those fallen. She exhaled heavily, turning along with the hundreds of others as they arrived.

So many dead.

The sight of the many hearses pulling up to Vale's largest cemetery was a kick to the gut, a reminder of how tentative their lives really were. She watched, quiet and still as the pallbearers saw to their duty and formed up. The coffins with the cops came first, nine block boxes in a long line, men and women with grave faces bearing them, marching in slow step. A bagpiper posted on the highest point of the cemetery began to play a dirge, the mournful notes wailing into the air, and Yang watched as the coffins marched past her. The hospital security staff followed after the police, eight coffins bearing those who had done all they could to fight against impossible odds. Or, at least, that was the official story. She knew better. These men and women died quickly and with much violence, not after a long and desperate fight. They had been slaughtered because no one had been prepared for the attack.

And they weren't the only hospital staff to have died, either, she reminded herself as she glanced at the two coffins behind those of the security personnel. Susan Hastings, the nurse, had died because she tried to fight back, though eye witnesses had said that the attackers had seemed deeply disturbed after killing her. Feh. All the regret in the world wouldn't bring her back. And the aide Brian Kuro had been found alone, a cup of water spilled on the floor beside him. No one would likely ever know why he died. Yang guessed he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Wait.

Was that…?

It was. The two coffins bringing up the rear of the long procession of the dead were the two Beacon students who really had fought hard to protect the ICU and had died for it. The two coffins were borne by senior Beacon students, with one exception. Yang's gaze met Melody's for a brief moment, the other girl's eyes shining with terrible grief, but when she looked forward again, her face was a stony mask that was carefully schooled to hide the agony that was likely trying to claw its way out. How painful it must be, to carry your own sister to her final resting place.

At that, Yang thought about Ruby, still at the hospital, and she knew she had come perilously close to going through the same situation as Melody. It was scary to stand here and see the glaring evidence that despite all the training that they went through, all the preparations they did to strengthen themselves…their lives really were very fragile. Twenty-one people had died in just a few minutes, and it was very unnerving to be standing here, watching as the coffins went to their assigned graves and were placed carefully, in preparation for their inevitable lowering into the waiting earth.

Yang shivered as the air pressure dropped even further, and the rain started to come down harder. Even though she was in the midst of the dense crowd that made its way over to loosely surround the twenty-one graves, she never felt so alone. Ruby and Weiss were both still in the hospital, and Blake...Yang frowned, eyes hardening. Blake had gone to the hospital yesterday to go over business with Weiss. When she returned, she had been a nervous wreck. Dinner had been wordless, and that night Blake had clutched her like she was afraid Yang was going to disappear. But when Yang woke up this morning, Blake's side of the bed was empty. Yang had been slightly concerned, but not overly so…at least, not at first. There had been plenty of times that Blake had to go and do something in the early morning. But as the morning went on and the time for the funeral drew closer and closer, Yang got more and more worried. When she had attempted to call Blake's scroll to remind her that her clothes were at her apartment, her worry had morphed into shock when she heard the ringtone Blake had picked for her number. She followed the slightly racy song to her living room, where she found Blake's scroll sitting on her coffee table. That shock turned into a panic.

Blake always kept her scroll on her. For a terrible moment, Yang had remembered the hours of worried torment that first year at Beacon, when Blake had revealed her affiliation with the White Fang and then disappeared. What had happened at the hospital that made Blake want to go off the grid again? The few hours left before she needed to go to the funeral had been pure anguish as she waited, hoping that Blake would show up again. It wasn't like her at all to choose to skip an event like the funeral, so maybe she had gone out to do something fast and had merely forgotten her scroll…even though she was fastidious and picky about remembering her scroll, and had never forgotten it before, but had called Yang out on forgetting hers plenty of times. It just wasn't like Blake.

Time whittled away, and it was with a heavy and worried heart that Yang had mounted Bumblebee and rode off, alone. Upon arrival at the cathedral, she had looked for Blake, hoping that she had gone there to make it to the funeral rather than go back to the apartment, but that hope turned into despair. Blake wasn't there. She had spent the next hour worrying for Blake before she had forced herself to stop and focus on the funeral. She wasn't doing the dead any honor by worrying about Blake, and so she had paid due respect to those who had died for the rest of the funeral, the only member of Team RWBY to do so. It was sad, she mused to herself as the last coffin was placed on the framework that would lower it into the grave. All of these people had paid the ultimate price for them, and only one of them showed up to pay them respect. But at least she showed up to pay respect, and not turn this into a publicity stunt, she thought with a sneer as she glanced discretely at a group of people surrounded by security personnel.

True, maybe the Council was here out of a sense of sympathy. But they had to know that even if they came here with the purest of intentions, the news media would make it political. And she couldn't help but think that this solemn event was being used to bolster support for the war. Maybe she'd think differently if the Council had banned news crews from being present in order to preserve the sanctity of this event, but there they were, slightly removed from the funeral, flocked like so many starving vultures waiting for their chance. Some of them were already filming and talking on their microphones, their words a distant, barely distinguishable buzz that thankfully didn't provide too much of an annoyance…Yang was only aware of it because she was focused on it.

"Miss Xiao Long?"

Yang started, broken out of her thoughts. Blinking, she looked to the tall, reedy man who had addressed her. "Yes?" she asked, clutching her umbrella a little closer. He produced a large bouquet of white roses from behind his back.

"They're about to lower the coffins. These are for the graves, miss."

She reached out, accepted the flowers, more aware than ever of the wet breeze brushing her exposed skin, the tattoo of rain on the surface of the umbrellas, and the sobs around her. She hefted the bouquet, all too aware of the symbolism of the white petals. There was suddenly a soft, mechanical whirring, and she looked up as all the coffins began their slow, final journey into the waiting earth. Just after they began to move, the bagpiper on the hill began to play again, joined by other pipers hidden from view. Yang listened to the first few notes blankly, at first more focused on getting in the line to drop her flowers into the waiting graves, but then she realized that she actually knew the song.

She couldn't remember the name of the composer, but he had written the symphony while he was away visiting the other kingdoms. This portion was written while he had been thinking of his home in Vale and was gripped with homesickness. Upon hearing about his motivation for the bittersweet and mournfully joyous section, listeners had named the few minutes of the overall symphony 'Going Home.' Yang didn't know much about classical music, preferring much more modern styles, but she was suddenly very glad that she could at least name this one piece, realize the significance for this event. These twenty-one may have died, but the music was a hope, a dream, a promise that they were going somewhere better…their souls were going home. Yang bit her lip as the tears finally came, the numbness within her melting as she finally, truly accepted what these people had lost and how close she had really come to losing Ruby.

Tears silently streaming down her face, she pulled the first of twenty-one roses from the bouquet, holding it over the yawning hole that held the sleek, mahogany coffin. "Thank you," she whispered past a constricted throat, "and I'm so, so sorry." She let the rose go, and watched as it fell through the rain before landing on the coffin's lid, joining those roses that had been dropped before it and waiting for all those yet to be dropped. She paused before continuing, looking down, searing the stark contrast of the white petals, the green stem, the gleaming wood and shining brass, and the rich, almost black earth into her memory. She would never forget this moment. Later, after the funeral, she would make the decision to go and talk to Weiss, and find out exactly what happened at the hospital to drive Blake away, but now? Now she existed solely for the dead. She had not been able to prevent their deaths…she would not do them dishonor by forgetting this moment, where she stood alone amongst the living, a bouquet of roses with petals the color of death held in her hand, tears running down her face, and regret heavy in her heart.

Then there was a soft, polite clearing of a throat, and Yang realized that she was holding up the line. She shivered, cast one last look at the grave, turned, and proceeded to the next grave. One down, twenty more to go…

xxxXXXxxx

Weiss dressed slowly, ever mindful of her shoulder. Still, it felt positively wonderful to be in her fitted slacks, and now she was struggling to put her bra on. She still didn't have full range of motion with her right arm, but the wound was closed, and there was no sign of infection. Grunting in frustration, she bit her lip as she squirmed just right aaaand…there! Finally! She winced as she brought her right arm around and rotated it, working out the pervasive soreness that still lingered. The doctor said that that would probably last for a week or so, and that they'd keep her on antibiotics for that long, just to make sure she didn't get an infection. At least she'd be able to go home now. She picked up her silk button-up blouse, but paused, glancing out the window at the dark clouds racing by, the occasional flicker of lightning, and the sheets of rain coming down. At least the storm had waited until the funeral had been done before it really started coming down. Her eyes flicked to the now dark television. She had watched some of the funeral on the news channel, but she had grown sick of the newscasters linking the funeral to the growing war efforts that she had shut it off. She had felt bad doing so, as she should have watched it for the sake of those that had died, but the more she watched, the more the rage had built within her, a sickness of heart that made her want to strike out at something. How dare the warhawks take these people's sacrifices and twist it around to fit their agenda?!

And so she had shut the TV off with a grimace, and she had clutched the remote for a long, long moment, tempted to hurl it against the wall. Really, the only thing that stayed her hand was the knowledge that if she did, the call bell would go off, and then she'd have to deal with some concerned aide showing up, asking if she needed anything, right when she would be rather volatile and prone to snapping at him or her for just doing their job. She frowned softly as she slowly fed her right arm through her blouse's sleeve, careful to not disturb the bulky bandage that dominated her shoulder. The bra straps had been easy, but with the shirt…

Still, it was so nice to feel the cool touch of silk on her skin, rather than that horribly low count cotton they used with the hospital gowns. Maybe she'd start going into the hospital gown manufacturing business…get some color other than that horrid green, and have a better quality cotton than whatever it was they used…felt like burlap, she swore. With some more careful maneuvering, she got her left arm through its sleeve, and with a grimace, she pulled her hair out of the back of her shirt. Despite the use of no rinse shower caps, her hair still felt terribly greasy, and she hadn't been able to take a proper shower because of the wound. Luckily, she had had one of her servants bring her toiletries, which were so much better than what the hospital had to offer its patients. But inasmuch as her brush did keep the knots from her hair, she was in desperate need for some washing up. That, and she needed to shave…

She finished buttoning up her shirt, and picked up the sheaf of papers that were her discharge instructions. She glanced through them again, her mind returning to the funeral. Though most of the camera time had been spent on the families of the victims and the Council, she had seen Yang. Blake hadn't been by her side, which wasn't good, and once again, Weiss wondered if she had been too harsh. But no, she couldn't take her words back, and she had done the right thing, difficult though it may have been.

As if to interrupt her dark thoughts, someone knocked on the door, and it opened far enough for Penny to stick her head in the door. "Salutations, friend!" she sang out with a million kilowatt smile, and Weiss couldn't help but smile in return.

"Hey, Penny, did you get my messages?"

"Yes, I did! And I can assure you, it is one hundred and ten percent doable!" Weiss actually sagged with relief at that. That meant that…

"Are you absolutely certain?" she asked, needing to be sure.

"Yes, father has been looking into that for a few years now, and we have a way to guarantee positive connection between the host and the implant. Some further surgery might need to be done, but we should be a-okay!"

Weiss nodded. "Let him know that there will be no expenses spared. The Schnee Dust Company will front the manufacturing costs, in return for it being your father's best work. Understood?"

Penny nodded, her smile becoming reassuring rather than energetic. "I have all the measurements necessary, and we can be in contact with the hospital throughout the manufacturing process. In two weeks we should be ready to proceed."

"Perfect. I'm just about to be discharged, and I'm going to see Ruby after that. Do you want to tag along?"

Penny shook her head. "I visited her a bit earlier, and I need to get in contact with father in order to start the process."

"Okay. And, Penny?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you…for coming, and for being here when we needed you, and for everything else."

Penny's smile became softer, almost introspective. "Of course. After all, isn't that what friends are for?" Her head tilted to the side, her eyes squeezing shut with joy as her smile returned to its full power. "I'll see you later, okay?" With that, she skipped out the door, humming happily, and Weiss felt her own smile slide away as she reminded herself that with all her outward innocent mannerisms, Penny was the only one to have killed one of the hospital attackers, and she had done so with no hesitation nor mercy. Sometimes it was easy to forget what they really were, easy to pass it off when they were merely killing Grimm, but those skills they needed to survive out there could be used to great effect while within the borders of the kingdoms…as she was beginning to learn.

There was another knock on her door, this one more reserved, and one of the aides stuck her head into the room. "Miss, are you ready to go? I have a wheelchair ready for you."

Weiss gathered her things into the oversized bag she used for emergency overnights, and stood. "Sorry to be a bother, but I won't be needing a wheelchair. I will be leaving the hospital, but I am visiting another patient first."

The aide paused, thrown off be her confident words. "But, hospital policy states that…" she started, but Weiss cut her off with an impatient wave.

"Yes, hospital policy states that you should take me, put me in that wheelchair, and bring me directly to the entrance that I request. However, I'm just going to stand up, turn around, and head right back into the hospital, thus making your bringing me to the entrance a waste of both of our times. That said, I really don't want to waste your time. I'm sure you have a hundred other tasks you need to do, and taking me out in a wheelchair that I don't want nor do I need cuts into the time you need to do all those things. Now the only question that you have to ask yourself is if you really want to waste my time, knowing just who I am." With those words, she leveled a flat and expressionless stare at the aide…oh, what was her name…Becky? Becky sounded right. Becky fidgeted under her gaze, before opening the door all the way and standing to the side.

"Thank you for staying at the hospital," she murmured, flushing from apparent embarrassment, and Weiss felt a flicker of guilt for bullying her. She had just been trying to do her job, and Weiss knew that part of the reason behind the wheelchair was because the hospital would be liable if a patient were to fall between the time of discharge and actually leaving the hospital grounds. If she were to fall down, she would be perfectly in her rights to sue the hospital, and Miss Becky would probably be out of a job. But a hospital aide really didn't want to annoy one of the richest people in all the kingdoms. Still…

"Listen, Becky…if anyone asks, you did your job and brought me to the door, and then I returned to the hospital as a visitor. I'm just saving us both some time, okay?"

The smile she got in return was relieved, and Weiss nodded at her as she strode past, heels clicking on the floor as she began to make her way to Ruby's room. She wasn't paying quite as much attention as she should have been when she walked past this floor's waiting room, and so was taken by surprise when the two hands reached out and grabbed from behind her before pulling her into the room and slamming her against the wall. She cried out in pain as her shoulder screamed in protest. She still managed to drop her overnight bag and bring her hands up defensively, and was so ready to make the fool who dared to touch her pay dearly when she realized that she recognized her assailant. "Yang?! What the hell!" She brushed Yang's hands from her shoulders before gently probing at her right shoulder. "It's still healing, you ass, and if I have to go back to the hospital because you reopened-"

"What did you say to her?" Yang cut her off as she stepped back, folding her arms angrily, and Weiss realized that Yang was between her and the exit now. Great.

"What are you talking about?" she snapped, carefully rolling her right shoulder. It didn't feel like it was going to open up again…

"Blake. What did you say to her? She was going to be at the funeral, but last night she came home a train wreck. Barely even said two words to me, and this morning she was gone."

Weiss scoffed. "I'm not Blake's keeper, and she's a big girl, she can handle herself. Besides, did you try calling her scroll? Maybe she just wants to be left alone for a while."

"She left her scroll at home."

That brought Weiss up short. "She did? But…she never leaves her scroll at home!"

"Yeah, which is why I'm concerned, and why I want to know exactly what you said to her!"

At that, Weiss crossed her own arms. "I'm sorry, but that's official SDC business, and I cannot discuss it with you without Blake's consent." She tried to keep her tone professional, but couldn't help the small amount of petulance that crept in.

Yang stared at her in shock for a moment before her lip curled back in disgust. Then she exploded into motion, her arm a blur as she drove her fist against the wall. Weiss flinched at the sudden violence and Yang stepped forward, crowding into her space as she got right in her face. "Don't give me that bullshit, Weiss! Your friend is out there, and could be in danger, and you fall back on company business?! The fuck!" she shouted, irises starting to bleed red.

Weiss tried to push her back, get her out of her space, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. "Back off, Yang, I did what I had to! Maybe if she had been more open, we wouldn't have had to get to this point, but she decided to keep the whole thing a secret, and I had to act in an official capacity!"

Yang did step back at that, her face confused. "Are you talking…about that Faunus I captured more'n a week ago?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "You…knew?!"

Yang scoffed. "Of course I did. Junior tipped me off that this guy had connections with the Crimson Claw, so I captured him. Handed him over to Blake, easy as can be."

Weiss still stared at her, horror roiling through her. "You knew and you didn't fucking tell me?!"

Yang frowned defensively. "Tell you what?! That I captured this guy? No, I left that up to Blake, figured she'd let you know we nabbed the guy. Are you saying that she didn't tell…?" Her eyes grew momentarily distant and thoughtful. "…Weiss, I didn't think she'd keep that a secret. She wasn't supposed to. Why would she…Weiss, what did she do?" All anger had fled from Yang's face, and had been replaced by worry.

"Something I can't talk about here." She glanced longingly out the door. Around the corner were the stairs that would bring her to Ruby. But right now Blake needed to be found. Weiss hoped that Blake was okay, and that she hadn't done anything rash, but without her scroll…she needed to be found. "Okay, we're going to the mansion, and we're going to figure out where Blake is. While there, we'll also go over what's happened, okay?" she asked, and Yang nodded. "Good. How'd you get here?"

"I rode Bumblebee."

Weiss blinked, looked Yang over more carefully, and noticed that she was soaked from the waist down, and that her hair was still wet. "Okay. I have a driver waiting. We'll both take that, and tomorrow I'll have you brought over to get Bumblebee, once the weather has broken. Sound fair?" Yang nodded, and Weiss bent down and picked her bag back up. Sorry, Ruby, looks like I'm going to be going home sooner than I expected. I wish I could see you right now, but I know you'd want me to find Blake first. I'll see you tomorrow. I promise.

With a confident stride, she stepped past Yang and made her way to the elevators. She may have acted in the capacity of the head of the SDC when she last spoke to Blake, but that didn't change the fact that Blake was still a friend in need of help, and she would not abandon her in the time of need.

After all, Blake deserved more than that…