Weiss stared out over the landscape of Beacon, her palms resting on the guard rail of her dorm's roof. She leaned on them, letting out a shaky breath. She squeezed her eyes shut as another wave of pain crashed over her, numbing her senses for a moment and making her ears ring. It was almost a physical entity for her, the pain. She had known it since she was a child. She had felt that burning agony that swept through her every time a family member or kindly board member died, burning away all the love and joy she had felt. It left nothing put an cold, empty, icy shell. She had quickly learned the best way to survive was to distance herself from all of it. If she didn't care enough to get hurt, she would never feel the pain.
Her hands tightened around the railing as another memory flitted through her mind, so brief she could barely register it, but it had the impact of a goliath stomping on her stomach. She whimpered, and slid to her knees, leaning up against the guard rail. She tucked her arms over her stomach, hoping that somehow that would help fill the empty void left there by the memories. She could feel the tears coming, and she tried to push them back, force them not to come up the way they had before she had learned not to care. Before she had learned to hate sooner than care just a little.
They came though. Weiss could never hold them back. The pain she felt was too fresh and far too real, ripping through her like a thousand shards of broken blades, tearing up her insides. She sobbed quietly, hugging herself, knowing that there was no one else who would comfort her. It had been the same since she was a child. It would be the same the day she died.
There was a crunching of gravel in front of her, and Weiss' eyes darted open, seeking out the source of the interruption of her grief. In the dim light cast by the setting sun, she could pick out a swirl of red cloak, pale skin and dark clothes.
"What are you doing here?" Weiss spat at her partner, letting all the venom and hurt seep into her voice. She didn't care if it hurt Ruby, she just wanted the other girl to go away. She really should go away, Weiss thought. It would be better for her and for me.
"You're not doing okay, and as your partner, I'm going to help." Ruby declared.
"No, you're not. Now go back to the dorm and study you childish bitch." Weiss let her words cut like blades. It was the first trick she learned. If she made it sound like she hated someone, they often believed. Of course, Weiss never actually hated them, but if it made them go away, it was that much better. The numbness she felt after sending people away was nothing compared to the sharp, acute, stabbing agony she was feeling now.
Ruby didn't go though. She just walked over to where Weiss was curled up on the wall and sat next to her. Anger flashed through Weiss.
"Go away Ruby, I don't want you here." Weiss growled, but her friend just looked at her with soft, serious eyes.
"Weiss, you don't have to push everyone away. You haven't spoken to any of us since we got back."
"That's because I don't want to. I've never wanted to." She spat back, but Ruby didn't recoil or even flinch. It confused Weiss. Normally when she acted like this, people were happy to leave.
"Yes, you do." Ruby's voice was stern. "I know it hurts Weiss, believe me, I know, but you can't stop it by just shutting the entire world out. There are people who care about you Weiss. Let us help you."
"No, you don't care. No one does, and no one should." Weiss deadpanned. It was the glimmer of truth she had spoken to Ruby. No one should care about her, because it made it easier for her not to care back. Everyone that Weiss cared for ended up getting hurt, or just hurting her.
A thought of her scare drifted into Weiss' mind. She knew that she was attractive by most standards, but that scar was the one mar on her otherwise well structured face. And the reason she had gotten it...
"Whether you like it or not, Weiss, we do care. And I know you care. You can't hide that."
"You think I care?" Weiss stood heatedly, whirling around to shout at Ruby. "I. Don't. Care."
"You do," Ruby replied, almost tiredly, and a grim flicker of hope sparked in Weiss. It was the first time that Ruby had reacted to her words, and that meant that Weiss could still make her leave.
"How could I care about you?" Weiss snapped, though the question in her mind was quite the reverse. "You're irresponsible, uncaring, childish, naive-"
"Weiss," Ruby said with a hard edge.
"And I know you don't give a dust's damn what happens to me. None of you ever have." It would have made it so much easier if Weiss had believed herself. "You tolerate me because you have to, not because you want to. You're no different than any of the others who have stuck around me because my family name is Schnee."
"We stick by you because we're your family Weiss."
Weiss stared at Ruby for a moment, shocked. That word had become so convoluted in Weiss' mind, she no longer had any idea what it meant. Business? Hate? Duty? Protection? Danger? Fear? Hope? Love?
"And we're never going to leave you alone." Ruby said, and it sounded to Weiss like a promise. That promise filled Weiss with dread and fear.
"Everyone leaves me." Weiss sneered.
"We're your team."
"You think you're the only one to promise that?"
"Weiss, stop for a second." Ruby pleaded.
"No, I won't Ruby Rose!"
"Please,"
"No!" Weiss snapped at her partner. "This is your fault!" Weiss wanted to sob, but Ruby just sat there in front of her, leaning up against the grating of the railing. "This is all your fault!" She tried to make the words cutting, but they felt hollow to her. "Why couldn't you have just left me alone?" Something caught in her throat, and Weiss slid to her knees, feeling the first sob wrack her body. "Why couldn't you just leave me to be hated? Why couldn't you let me not care?" She whispered between sobs. "I never wanted to feel this." She finished, defeated. She shut her eyes, letting the tears slide down her cheeks.
She felt a pair of warm arms around her, and she tried to push her partner away. Ruby just hugged her tightly though, and Weiss buried herself in Ruby's shoulder. She felt her partner rubbing her back in small circles, and it felt comforting. No one had ever done that for her before. Weiss continued to cry as Ruby murmured softly in her ear, her soothing voice helping to dull the sharp stabs of pain that slashed through Weiss body every few moments, but Ruby seemed to have infinite patience. It felt like it might go on forever for Weiss, but she knew, somewhere deep down, that Ruby wouldn't leave.
And that terrified her all the more.
/
Yang lay on her bed, her entire body feeling like it was made of lead. There was a pit in her stomach that had been growing there ever since Ruby had crashed back over the fence with Blake a few moments before the entire warehouse had gone up in flames. Yang thought she might have been able to live with the loss of Sun and Neptune if what they had done had been a success, but when she had seen the jet rise out of the ground, Yang's entire world had been turned upside down. Yang had a lot of friends. Her buoyant attitude, cheerful disposition and her looks meant that a lot of people wanted to talk to her, and that was well and good, but although those friends talked to her and smiled, few of them were actually close with her. Yang had had only a few real friends, and that circle was quickly closing up. Losing Neptune and Sun was like losing a piece of her soul. Despite that, Yang knew she didn't have it the worst.
Beneath her, Yang could hear Blake twisting and turning. Yang had lost a friend when Sun had died, but Blake had lost so much more. It had been a few nights since they had gotten back, and each night, Yang was kept awake by the sound of Blake's tortured attempts to fall asleep. Yang could have slept through it, Blake didn't make much noise, but her anguish pulled at Yang's heart. Over the past few days, Blake's eyes had grown dark and shadows had begun to appear under them. Each time that Yang saw her partner, it felt like someone had slammed her in the gut, and it was even worse for Yang to hear it getting worse each night.
Despite Blake's delicate beauty that Yang thought had gone undiminished, Blake did not look good during the day. She looked the way Pyrrha had when they were coming out of the scouting outpost in Forever Fall; pale, sickly, hollow and scared. Yang was pretty sure that Blake was afraid of the nights, when everyone else was asleep and Blake was lying alone in her bed with nothing but the horrible memories of that night to keep her company.
There was a ruffling of sheets underneath her, and Yang squeezed her eyes shut, knowing how much pain Blake must be in, feeling it almost as her own. Her heart wrenched, and Yang flicked her sheets off, shivering slightly as the cold night air brushed against her exposed midriff. She swung her legs out over the side of her bunk and hoped lithely onto the floor of their dorm, not making a sound. She turned around to look at Blake, who had raised her head off the pillow to look at Yang.
Yang's stomach sank as she saw her partner. Blake's eyes were filled with unshed tears of anger and sorrow. She hadn't even bothered to change out of her undergarments before going to bed. Blake's sheets were a twisted mess, wrapped in a thin strand around one thigh and half her waist, the result of ceaseless twisting.
Yang looked at her partner, then sat on the edge of her bed. She reached out her hand and cupped the side of Blake's head.
"Yang-" Blake's voice cracked as she tried to whisper.
"Hey, it's alright." Yang cooed softly, lightly stroking Blake's velvety hair lightly. It wasn't alright, they both knew that, and Yang didn't want to make Blake believe otherwise. It was part of the job, and they would have to deal with it. But Yang just wanted her partner to forget it for one night. Blake had never been one to let things go, but if Yang could help her get just one night of sleep, maybe Blake might start to feel better.
Blake's eyes squeezed shut, but didn't shed a single tear. When she opened them again, any hint of anger that had been in her eyes was gone, leaving nothing but deep amber pools of unending pain. Blake shifted to the inside of the bed and patted the pad of her mattress. Yang slunk into the bed beside Blake, shutting out the part of her that felt butterflies begin to flutter in her stomach. That didn't matter right now, Yang decided, Blake was what was important.
She lay down on her side, mirroring her partner's posture. Blake's long hair fell in soft curls across her shoulder, and Yang could see goosebumps on her flat, toned stomach, having risen slightly from exposure to the cold fall air of their room. Her soft red lips were parted slightly, halfway between speaking and sobbing, and her deep, golden eyes shone slightly in the midnight darkness. Yang wanted to wash the sorrow out of her eyes and fill it with all the joy in the world, but she knew that was impossible. She wanted to help, but how could anyhow help about something like this, she wondered.
"Yang," Blake's voice was a hoarse whisper, but it held this time. "How do we..." Her voice trailed off, but Yang knew what she meant.
There were no words that could help, so rather than speaking, Yang reached forward and pulled Blake into a tight hug. Blake tensed up for a moment, before clutching her hands around Yang's shoulders, gripping them tightly. Yang felt Blake nuzzle her head into the crook of Yang's neck, and Yang hugged her partner tightly as silent sobs wracked her body. No tears came, no whimpers or sobs of grief and anguish. Nothing but a sorrow so deep that into couldn't be put into words or tears. It could only be felt and endured.
Yang hugged Blake close, feeling their legs intertwine. Yang let her semblance glow a little, staving off the night chill, and felt the goosebumps on Blake's skin decline even as she soundlessly wept against Yang.
Yang closed her eyes and began to hum. She was reminded of another night, long ago, when she had done the same for Ruby after they received the news about Summer. The only thing that had been able to quiet Ruby's anguished cries and mournful tears was the soft humming of a song that Summer used to sing to them when they were kids. An old lullaby to put Ruby to sleep when she couldn't, pushing away the terrors of nightmares even in the darkest nights of winter.
Yang couldn't sing, but she hummed the melody as best she could, letting the soft notes roll out of her throat and wash over Blake. The melody rose and fell in rhythmic time, the soothing notes flowing into one another like a river, and slowly, ever so slowly, Yang began to feel the tremors in Blake's body dissipate and calm, until the raven haired woman grew still, breathing softly against the sensitive skin of Yang's neck, sending chills down her spine. Blake's breaths grew more even, elongating until Yang knew she was asleep. Yang kissed the top of her partner's head lightly, between her cat ears, and then rested her chin on the pillow above Blake's head, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep, entwined with her partner.
/