A/N: Hey, everyone! Here's your next installment of my Big Bang fic. I'll admit... this chapter is a little farfetched, but for the first time, I've actually created an OC that actually means something. You'll see. I'd love to talk about it in reviews! I respond to every review.

I'm outside on my balcony, leaning against the railing and watching the sun finally start to peek over the Vale skyline. A gentle breeze attempts, but fails, to push my locks of hair over my shoulder. Cars pass under me on the two-lane street. A family of kids and their parents amble out to a sky-blue passenger car. I hear one of the parents mention something about heading to the aquarium..

I hate to eavesdrop… but Faunus hearing makes it hard not to when you can hear and discern everything. It's both a blessing and a curse. But I faintly smile at the kids'- a pair of twins- bubbly attitudes. "What's actually different between a sea lion and a seal? Do they have them there?" one of them says.

Yang and I have talked about maybe adopting a kid or two one day, but… it would be a while. There's a still a lot of war and conflict to fight before I'd ever consider settling down.

It's now 9:07. She's late.

I turn around and step through the doorway, sliding the glass door shut. A speaker system piped throughout my apartment is playing a song that Yang once introduced me to: "Citizen/Soldier" by 3 Doors Down. Music was never something I got into when I was with the White Fang, but… Faunus hearing, combined with Yang's encouragement, and I can't get enough of it. Big band swing is by far my favorite genre, but this type of rock is a close second. I can't get into Yang's EDM, though.

I hear a gentle knock at the door. Instinctively, my hand shoots up to my hip, where the same pistol I put on yesterday is sitting. Today, I traded out yesterday's outfit for a pair of dark black jeans and a lacey white and black top. It's… comfortable, and versatile.

"It's open." I speak in a loud, cautious voice. It's just a habit of mine. When I worked with the White Fang, you never knew who was going to open the door.

Thankfully, it's the psych. I uncoil, letting my hand relax by my side as I walk over to meet her at the door and close it behind her with a gentle thud.

I see her look me over, her eyes lingering suspiciously on my matte black sidearm. "I, uh… brought you something, if you want it…" She holds up a paper bag. I could smell the freshly baked breakfast pastry as soon as she opened the door. Raspberry filling with… white confectionary icing, I think?

I hate raspberry anything.

"Thanks, but I already ate." That's a lie. My stomach is gnawing at me, asking for more than just the half cup of tea I fed it this morning. But the appetite is not enough to make raspberry palatable.

"Oh. Good." She sets her satchel down on my countertop, pulling out the same pad of paper and a pen that she had yesterday. She quickly scribbles today's date at the top of a fresh sheet.

What I notice this time is the glimmer of the pen… it's a fountain pen. Gold nib, writing with a royal blue ink. The same color that my dad loved to wear. "I figured we could start off where we left off yesterday? Maybe…"

I brace myself. I know what she's about to ask, and what memories it's going to bring back.

"...talk about Adam Taurus more? How he changed? What happened to him?"

Bile rises in my throat like a pot on the brink of boiling over. All the times he put me down or struck me are circling me, vultures that never quite threaten you but never leave your mind either.

"What do you want to know?"

"Start at when your group in the White Fang started to change. Did he have some kind of turning point? Something that started the changes?"

…

I'll try to make a long story short…

It's sometimes very hard to explain what the White Fang was during the time I was in it. You know we were bodyguards, in a way. We weren't afraid to shoot, and we weren't afraid to get shot at. Some of the other things we did were more closely connected with Vale's military. Ozpin- he was a Lieutenant Colonel at the time- called us "Private Military Contractors." Other people who were less approving of our actions labeled us "Mercenaries."

I personally don't care what anybody called us. When people back in Menagerie heard that there was a Faunus-only sort of… special forces group that was helping people and fighting Grimm on the front lines, it made a difference. Adam came in with a Vale newspaper with the White Fang plastered all over the front. The headline read "White Fang Heralded as Heroes." One little boy… he was a deer Faunus with antlers still in velvet… he saw the tattoo on my wrist. Normally I wore that black ribbon to hide my tatt in public, but… He saw through it. Eyes went wide. Called to his mom and pointed at me. He couldn't have been any older than 7 or 8, and he knew that red logo of a wolf's head. A symbol that means terrorism today… but to him, back then, it meant heroes.

It was one such 'mission' when it happened. It wasn't the riskiest one we'd ever taken. We were tasked with keeping an eye on a reporter that wanted to get closer to the action of the Grimm war. For us, that meant taking her around in an armored truck while we were in full combat gear. Rifles locked and loaded, combat gear with ceramic plates as body armor, radios connecting us to air assets if we needed it. It was like a loophole for Vale's military, where since the reporter was following us, Vale could deny or disavow anything that they didn't want the media to know. Not that there was a lot of that, but… you get the picture. Overall, we didn't mind. Escorting a reporter is better than taking part in a strike force.

The reporter's name was Penny Polendina. I didn't think she'd ever been in combat before. In short, she was giddy… her green eyes looking curiously as I strapped a thick, heavy plate carrier to her chest, and loaded it with a duplication of what Adam loved to call a "blow-out kit." Tourniquets, hemostatic gauze, chest seals… If a bullet found its mark, we'd be able to take care of her.

"Oh, I know how to use these!" She snapped a rigid salute to her eyebrow, and brought it back down dramatically. "I'm combat-ready!"

Adam stood behind me as I outfitted her. He chuckled, but I don't think he was amused by her show of enthusiasm. "Ms. Polendina… if they have to be used, you won't be the one using them. But they won't, will they, my darling?"

I shook my head. "Not on my watch." I finished pulling the strap tight by her hip and stood up, giving Penny a tap on the back.

"Just keep your head down if any shooting actually starts." The fourth member of our team called out from sitting on the tailgate of our truck. Her words seemed to flit out of her mouth on their own, each one crossing over into the next. It was an accent that you had to get used to.

That was Hawk. An eagle Faunus, and a damn good fighter. She had long, flowing auburn hair that ended in loose curls a few inches below her shoulders. If you were lucky enough to get up close to her, you'd notice the trail of avian feathers at the nape of her neck and continuing up into her hair. She also had better vision than any living being I'd ever seen. You know that old wives' tale about birds being able to read newspaper print a mile away? She confirmed it.

The squad was made up of four of us at the time, but we didn't take on one of those four-letter team names that so many of the special forces groups did back in the day. It was Adam, along with Hawk, the Lieutenant, and myself.

I won't bore you with the details of squad life. What you need know is that we did everything together. Trained, ate, slept, fought when we needed to, all together as a unit. Brothers and sisters. I can still tell you each one's blood type. And… their favorite guilty-pleasure movie.

Hawk seemed to take over with Penny once I was done. Penny had a million questions... "Where are we going? Are we going to see Grimm? What's it like going through combat? Have any of you ever been shot?"

Hawk was a natural. As she smiled and the feathers rose slightly at the nape of her neck, she answered each and every one of them. "No, madam. Nobody's been shot. We're going to the south end of Vale, and we very well may see Grimm. But don't worry, love. We'll keep you safe."

Just like that, as Hawk was nudging her to climb into the truck, Penny changed gears. "So… why did you join the White Fang?"

And then… Hawk froze. That's not something she liked to talk about, especially to people from the outside who she didn't trust. I was by the driver's side door at the time, looking through the truck at the reporter. Adam placed a hand on Hawk's shoulder, pulling her gently backwards to be at his side. "Personal stories are off-limits, Ms. Polendina."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Penny glanced down at her hands, causing the pink bow in her hair to swish back and forth.

"We're moving out soon. Get in." Adam pointed into the back seat of the truck, still keeping his hand on Hawk's shoulder. Hawk was looking down at the ground, thick strands of her wavy hair blocking her expression from me. I knew what she was thinking about and reflecting on… but I'm sorry. It's not my story to share.

As I climbed in and set my rifle in between the front two seats, Adam made his radio call to the commander of the convoy we'd be shadowing. "Wolfpack, Wolfpack, this is Taurus. We're rolling out now."

It only took a few moments for the commander to respond, his baritone voice sounding raspy over the comm. "Taurus, Wolfpack. Understood. Recommend you proceed along the secondary route. ISR reported suspicious activity along the primary, but we didn't confirm anything out of the ordinary. Better safe than sorry."

Adam seemed to think for a moment as I dropped the truck into gear. "Rog. We'll head along the secondary and make up as much time as we can to meet you at the rendezvous."

"Don't be afraid to cry wolf if you need support."

"Thanks, but we're tougher than we look." Adam tosses the radio microphone up onto the dashboard. "Drive, Blake. We're taking the secondary. Punch it."

…

"It sounds like Adam had a lot of confidence in that team of yours…" As I talked through my story, the psych had taken a seat at the spot she had yesterday, crossing her brown knee-high boots.

I'm leaning against the countertop, resting my elbows on the edge. "We all had confidence in ourselves. You have to have both confidence and trust in the team to survive in this line of work."

"I've heard that before." She opens a manila envelope, starting to dig through its contents and sort through the different papers. "I will say, though… that none of the reported files dealing with the White Fang say anything about this sort of contracting."

"That's because Vale kept us silent. A black op, if you're feeling dramatic. We never kept records, and they never kept records about us. We came, did our job, and vanished until they needed us again. The only 'record' of us actually doing anything were the reporters who published stories on us. So the masses thought they knew who we were, but they didn't have all of the facts." I eye the papers. What does Vale have on me?

"You said there was a reporter with you. Did she put out any kind of press on this particular day?"

As a matter of fact, Penny did publish a story. I push myself off of the edge of the counter, and over to a small wooden filing cabinet sitting beside a walnut desk. There's one folder I'm looking for, and I pull it out seconds later. Inside is the issue of a newspaper that brings me back to that day.

"Blake?" The psych's worried gaze glanced between me and the folded black and white print.

I let out a breath, trying not to remember but also forcing myself to let the truth spill out. "It's here. This… this is what happened."

…

I held the pedal nearly to the floor, blasting down gravel roads in southern Vale much, much faster than we should've been going.

"Adam, Blake, Hawk, and Lieutenant. You all have such interesting names." Penny was just beginning to get on my nerves. I just wanted to focus on driving and not getting us killed. "What kind of guns do you shoot?"

I silently blessed Hawk for piping up again and dealing with Penny's question. "Madam, I'm a designated marksman and I shoot a semi-automatic long-range rifle." Again, she deliberately avoided using the term sniper. "The Lieutenant here is in love with this machine gun called an LSAT. Adam and Blake shoot a 417 and a 416, respectively."

I glanced in my rearview to see Penny with her head in a small notebook, furiously scribbling notes into it. She stuck part of her tongue out when she wrote.

"Blake!" Adam shouted at me.

Out of the right corner of my eye, I saw the white wisp of smoke from a rocket, and I reacted as fast as I could. I yanked the wheel to the left, feeling the tires skid in an attempt gain traction.

The next thing I knew… the whole truck was being rotated. I looked out of my left window and saw the gravel of the road. My head flew forward and hit the steering wheel, and darkness snatched me.

When I came to, everything was blurry. I could faintly make out the steering wheel and the gauges, but the windshield was only piercing white light. My hand came up to my face, and when I lowered it, part of my glove was soaked in crimson. As feeling came back to me, I sensed the warm, sticky fluid, and instantly knew it was blood.

My ears were ringing, but I could hear shouting, and something that sounded like hail hitting the siding of the car.

I tried to get my bearings and sit up in my seat, but my own senses were telling me that down was to the left. Against the driver's side of the car. My hand came up to press against what I thought would be window and glass, but instead was dirt and pea gravel. The truck was on its side.

I suddenly remembered the rocket. Assumed it was Grimm. That's when I knew that I needed to get out. I was not about to die trapped in a truck. But when I looked around… nobody else was there. None of my team, or Penny. Were they flung from the car? If they were… it was even more reason to get out.

I braced myself against the seat and brought my boot up to rest against the windshield. While the glass was bulletproof, the crash had put a series of cracks at the bottom. I reared back and gave it a good kick, feeling it give. I gave it another kick, then another…. Until finally my heel went through it.

"Blake!" I felt a hand grasping the straps of my rig and hauling me out through the windshield. It was Hawk, taking my hands and pulling me up. "I thought you were dead."

When I got back on my feet, I smelled boiling engine coolant. Hot oil. Burning rubber.

I noticed that Hawk wasn't resting her rifle in her hand, but in the crook of her elbow. At the time, I guessed that she had mangled her hand or broken her wrist. Her eyes ran over me, looking for any signs of blood welling up through my clothing. When she was certain there was none, she grabbed my rifle from inside the cab of the truck and tossed it into my hands. "Adam's at the back… he'll tell you what to do."

I kept my head down as I passed over to the bed of the truck. Silently, I gave thanks for the hidden armor both on the sides and bottom that kept any Grimm bullets from finding their way through.

A camera flash greeted me when I got there. Penny had a small point-and-shoot camera and had just taken a picture of me. Adam had her huddled down low, against the upturned truck bed. The LT was standing and braced against the tailgate, actively shooting in short bursts. He knew we'd have to conserve ammo.

"Blake, you okay?" Adam turned to me and ran his eyes over me the same way that Hawk did.

"I think so… What do you need me to do?"

"Wolfpack is on its way… We've just gotta hold on until they get here." He looked around the truck, both at the smoldering ruins of our vehicle, and the surrounding area. A treeline set off of the road on both sides by roughly 20 yards, and there was a hill on our side where the trees started. Short, thick cedar trees, not very good for cover or fighting out of. "About a dozen Grimm are dug in behind rocks on the opposite side."

He suddenly flinched as another volley of bullets hails against the truck. "Take Hawk's position at the front. I need her picking off Grimm from that hill." He pointed up into the trees on our side of the hill. "Go, Blake!"

I nodded, bringing a hand up to wipe a new trail of blood out of my face. I crossed back over to Hawk, tapping her shoulder and shouting into her ear over the cacophony of gunfire. "Adam wants you up on that hill, I'm taking over for you!"

Her eyes were dilated… they turned that way when she was shooting. No doubt my eyes were cut into cat slits, too… but I wasn't focusing on that. Hawk backed away from the hood as I took up her position. "Blake, I'm gonna need some covering fire."

I turned to her and nodded. "I can help you out with that."

She slung her rifle over her back, and braced herself against the black sheet metal in a sprinter's stance. The feathers on her neck laid flat against the skin, streamlined like when raptors dive for a kill. "Give me a count."

"One… two…" I let out a deep breath, and shook a strand of hair out of my face. At the same time that I shouted "Three!" I leaned out from the front of the truck's hood, and pulled the trigger. I didn't really know what I was shooting at… I just sprayed. Mistake on my part. I wasn't thinking.

I'll never forget the way she screamed.

…

My psych puts down her notes, standing up with a worried look across her face. "She… she screamed? What happened?"

I don't even want to think about it… but all of the images come flooding back to me anyway. "I…" I close my eyes, trying to shake out that one moment. The hand not holding the newspaper balls into a fist.

"Did she get hit?"

It's all still there. Turning and seeing the youngest member of my team less than 15 yards away from me… on the ground. Red liquid and foam.

"Yeah… Some Grimm use armor piercing rounds that can't go through truck armor, but went clean through the ceramic plates we wore…" I look down at the newspaper article in my hand again, then wad it up and toss it on the floor.

"Easy, Blake… what happened next?"

I don't want to remember it. I try my best, but bits and pieces still slip through the walls I'm putting up.

My chest tightens. Jaw clenches. My palms are clammy, turning white because I'm still squeezing them into fists.

I can't. I don't want to. I wish Yang were here…

…

Hawk's beautiful auburn hair matting down in the pool of her own lifeblood.

Adam and the LT laying down covering fire. Me dragging her back behind the truck.

I shouldn't have tried to treat her. No medicine in a gunfight. But she was scared. I saw her frantically glancing down and grimacing as I ripped her loadout off, and cut her clothes away with my knife. I heard the rush of air when she tried to speak, and… I knew. I hoped to hell that she didn't.

Sucking chest wound. Blood was filling her lungs, and an air pocket was building in her chest cavity, trying to collapse them. I wiped the foam away with my sleeve, and did what I was trained to do.

"It's… it's bad… You have… you… help…" Her breaths come painfully, the grimace not leaving her face. Her eyes aren't dilated anymore, and I don't want to imagine why…

I'm… I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore.

…

"Blake…" I feel the psych's presence move closer to me. Reaching out with her hand.

"No. Stop it!" As fast as my Faunus reflexes allow me, I snatch her wrist. I'm squeezing it when I lock gazes with her again. I see the mix of fear, surprise, and pain.

"It's not your fault…"

"Shut up!" Fury. I dig in with my feet and shove her backwards. "You weren't there!"

She hits her back against the wall, and for a moment, I think I might have hurt her...

Her voice softens. "Soldiers die… it's a part of the war. You kept fighting, after that…"

…

"Soldiers die." That's… that's what the LT said.

Adam grabbed the LT's collar with both hands, pulling him in. "We're not soldiers. We fight for a species, not a nation."

Adam shoved him backwards, the veins on his temple starting to pop out.

I was sitting on the ground, my back against an ammo crate in the warehouse that we called our base of operations. I still had her blood on my gloves, crusted and sour. The stains went halfway up my forearms, coating my black ribbons. "She's gone… We brought her into this and we killed her."

I can't remember Adam's face, but I remember his words. "No. They killed her. The kingdoms and this damn war they're still fighting." He paused, biting at his next words with something that resembled bloodlust. "They're to blame."

…

"That's… that's dark…"

I shrug, still looking at the newspaper wad on the ground. "The worst part?" I pause, gathering myself and the courage to continue. "I… believed him. I blamed Vale's military. I blamed Penny. I blamed every single human who ever saw our animal traits and thought of us as lesser. I thought that they forced us to fight, and that Hawk's blood was on their hands."

"You were angry."

"I was stupid." I cross my arms, my gaze narrowing on hers. "And wrong. Absolutely wrong."

She shakes her head. "Everybody goes through stages of grief, and-"

I put a hand up, interrupting her. "I've come to grips with the fact that she's gone now. And…" I purse my lips, glancing down again. "That's all I have to say about that."

"I…" She backs away when I put my hand up, as if recoiling from a strike. "I guess I'll be leaving, then…"

I put my hand down, eyeing the burgundy rug covering the floor of my office area.

Hesitantly, she walks over to the chair where her things are, packing them up into the satchel again. "You know how to get a hold of me, Blake. All you have to do is reach out."

"Just… go." That's all I can manage. I don't want her here any more. I don't want her digging any deeper.

As soon as I hear the door latch closed, I back up against a wall, and slide down along it. I pull my knees into my chest, sitting on the floor.

An hour later… I hear another knock at the door, but this time my hand doesn't gravitate to my pistol. I hear the door open slowly, and I turn to see Yang Xiao Long walk in.

There's no words. No "hello" or "how are you?" She closes the distances between us in seconds, pulls me to my feet, and wraps her arms around me.

My fingers curl in the brown leather jacket she's wearing as I bury my face into the crook of her neck. Her gold locks seem to soak up both the tears and the emotions that I release at that very moment. I've kept them bottled up for the whole day…

"Shh… I'm here, kitten. Easy…"

"I told her about Hawk… and…" I try to breath, only getting choked up as I do so. I can't hold back the water in my eyes. "And… I couldn't, Yang… I couldn't imagine her again… How scared she was..."

I feel Yang's hand high on my head. Against my cat ears, pulling the bow out and dropping it to the floor. She gently brushes her fingers against them, then cards down through my hair…

I can't stop the tears from coming. Yang's shoulder is wet, and for a moment, I'm worried that she's mad because this is the first time she's seen me in three days, and all I am is a hot mess…

But all that fades away when I feel her squeeze me and whisper into my ear.

"I've got you, Blake…"

A/N: Can I hear what you're thinking?