Behind Bars

Part Three: I Am Yang Xiao Long

The letter crumpled in Yang's hand, creases forming around her clenched fist.

She sat in her bunk, slumped against the wall. The concrete was cold against her back through the thin material of her undershirt. There was dried blood on her lower lip. Her arm was draped over her bent knees, hand drooping with the pieces of paper clutched in her fingers.

The letter was from her father. She'd read and re-read it a thousand times.

Yang,

Sorry I haven't been in to see you. I guess your list of approved visitors hasn't gone through yet. Smells like bull shit to me.

Ruby's doing okay, mostly. But with Weiss back at her home in Atlas now, she has fewer distractions.

She's waiting for you to call. She needs to hear her big sister's voice to know you're okay.

I know it's tough, and the last time we talked you said you weren't ready yet – but can you call her? For me? A few words from you will do her more good than anything I can say.

I'm sure Zwei would love to hear your voice too! Dopey mutt misses ya.

In other news, something came for you today – shipped here Atlas-express. Been talking to Ironwood about it for weeks now! Well actually – James is the one who brought it up initially. Full of surprises that one.

But that's not the point –

Yang, he built you an arm – top of the line, neural interfaces, Atlesian steel, all new cybernetic specs – this thing is amazing!

Now, I know you don't need it to be the complete package – you'll always be my little girl, no matter what. And I know it doesn't mean much now, but it'll be waiting here for you when you come home.

Because you are coming home, Yang. It may not feel like it now – but you're coming home to us. Me, Ruby, Zwei, your friends, we're all still a part of your life whether you see it now or not.

And just think of General Ironwood's gift this way:

There's a lot of people here who still believe in you, Yang. It might seem like the darkest hour, but there are people who love and care for you, and know you for you.

I'll see you soon, my sunny little dragon.

Love Always,

Dad

She stared ahead resolutely, tears drying on her cheeks. Still holding the letter, Yang prodded her side with her fingers. She winced as they probed a bruise spreading over her ribs. Pulling up her shirt, she looked down at the rapidly darkening blotches on her skin.

Panting slightly, she laid her head back against the wall. Gritting her teeth, she glared up at the ceiling and remembered – the events of the day slamming back to the forefront of her mind.

Yang was cleaning the floor in the hallway outside the D block showers. Gripping the mop in her left hand, she supported the top of the handle between what was left of her right arm and her side. Making slow, clumsy circles she worked her way across the hall.

Throughout her first week at Briarcliff, Yang had been bounced from one work assignment to the next. Already she'd been through three: maintenance, kitchens, and now the cleaning crew.

For the most part, she could find ways to manage the tasks assigned to her, but she slowed down the team. After about a day or so, the CO in charge of whatever crew she was with requested that she be transferred to an "easier" or "more suitable" job.

Sweat beading on her forehead in the stifling heat, Yang's frustration drove her to scrub faster. Already, the rest of the girls in cleanup had finished their tasks and gone back to their bunks for social hour, the part of the morning where the cells were left open and D block was allowed to "socialize" within its own little clicks.

Moving too fast, the top of the mop's handle slipped out of the crook of her right arm.

"Need a hand?"

Yang stiffened slightly as Sasha's low laugh floated down the hallway ahead of her. For once in her life, Yang Xiao Long didn't think a pun was funny.

Trying to ignore Sasha, she trained her eyes on the mop and went back to working her way down the hall.

Yang heard footsteps slapping down on the wet floor and tensed. Grabbing her shoulder, Sasha spun Yang around to face her. Briefly, Yang noticed that there was another girl standing behind Sasha. She was unusually short with blonde hair so pale it was almost white.

Shoving her face into Yang's, Sasha said prettily, "Rule number one in here? When I speak to you, you answer." She flashed a smile and moved back a few feet, the other girl standing just behind her.

"Now I'm being rude," she continued. "Yang, meet Roxie Hearst. Roxie? Meet Yang," she said with a wink. "She's the one I've been telling you about," she murmured, eyes looking Yang up and down.

When Yang didn't say anything right away, Sasha flashed her a dangerous look. Deciding that it was best to go along with whatever this was, Yang said, "Hey, nice to meet you," forcing a little cheeriness into her voice.

Satisfied, Sasha sauntered back towards Yang. Holding her ground, Yang stood with the mop clenched tightly in her hand. She returned Sasha's stare, scrutinizing the girl in front of her.

She was tall – maybe even taller than Yang – and she had raven black hair that was perpetually slicked back into a tight ponytail. The sides of her head were shaven, and the hair pulled back into the left side of her ponytail was woven into a tight braid.

Her ears had three holes in each lobe – indicating where she had once worn several piercings. Her eyes were a light brown color with flecks of gold around the pupils. They burned surprisingly bright, standing out from the stark contrast with her hair. The slightest hint of a tattoo peaked up over the collar of her shirt, but what exactly it was, Yang couldn't tell.

"So Yang, you given any thought to what I said the last time we spoke?"

Yeah, Yang thought, eyebrows knitting together. That I need to stay about a million miles away from you.

While Yang was deliberating over what to say, Sasha took another step closer.

Warily, she responded, "I don't know what you meant 'it's been arranged' but whatever it is I think I'm just fine without it. Thanks for the offer though."

In a flash, Sasha was in Yang's face. Before Yang could react, Sasha's hand snaked up and grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair, yanking her head back. A hiss escaped Yang's lips and she struggled to return Sasha's glare.

"Not a wise decision, Xiao Long," she snarled, pushing Yang forward until her back was pressed against the wall.

Fighting the urge to retaliate, Yang's grip tightened around the mop's handle until her entire arm started shaking. Wood splinters bit into her palm and she tried to focus on her breathing. She definitely did not want to get caught starting a fight.

Looking down at her clenched fist, Sasha smirked.

Stay cool, she thought to herself. Do not throw the first punch. The rules are different in here. DO NOT START SOMETHING.

Getting even closer, Sasha pressed her body to Yang's. Looming over her, she forced Yang to meet her eye.

Smile widening to expose two rows of flashing white teeth, Sasha tightened her grip on Yang's hair and snapped her head back against the wall with a vicious yank.

Involuntarily, Yang's eyes flashed red. Distantly, she heard the monitor on her ankle start to beep.

"That's a neat trick," Sasha hissed, still smiling.

Her other hand still clawing at Yang's hair, Sasha arched her back and raised her fist.

"You know, she really wouldn't like it if she knew I was doing this," said Sasha through her teeth.

Yang didn't have time to wonder who "she" was. Watching Sasha's raised fist, she saw the punch coming. At the last moment, she jerked and ducked out of the way. Sasha's fist connected with the wall with a resounding thud, splinters of paint chipping off.

Trying to create some space between them, Yang used her momentum to wrench herself out of Sasha's grasp. Strands of blonde hair came in away in her hand, and the red tinge of Yang's vision intensified.

The beeping from her ankle monitor grew louder, the light an angry orange.

"Better watch that, Xiao Long," growled Sasha. "Wouldn't want it to go red, not yet any ways. There's no fun in this for me if you're unconscious."

Sasha struck out with a kick aimed for Yang's head. Dodging back, Yang ended up with her back against the wall again. Struggling to breathe, she tried to release the flow of energy and stem the buildup of her semblance.

Taking advantage, Sasha lashed out again. Yang dodged a fist aimed at her face but exhaled sharply as Sasha's knee crashed into her ribs. Doubled over, Yang heard the beeping turn into a constant shrill. Catching a quick glance, she saw the light flash red for a split second before fading back to orange.

Yang rolled out of the way of another attack. Regaining her balance, she kicked Sasha across the back of her knees.

Sasha stumbled forward and whirled around to face her. Eyes gleaming, she pressed the attack.

The two exchanged a flurry of blows, the shriek of Yang's monitor now intermixed with a low beeping from Sasha's.

Yang threw her weight behind a left hook that connected with Sasha's jaw. Sasha quickly retaliated and sent another vicious kick into Yang's abdomen.

Clutching her stomach with her left hand, Yang fought to straighten up. Through the haze of her vision she saw Sasha's fist rifling through the air.

Instinct took over, and she threw up her right arm to defend herself – momentarily forgetting that there was nothing there.

Sasha's fist connected with Yang's face, cracking the bones in her cheek and making her teeth rattle in her head. Yang flew back into the wall, by some miracle still standing.

The beeping in her monitor started to fade as black spots danced in front of her eyes. But even as the light faded back to a dull green in her brace, a high-pitched squawking sound was ripping its way out of the speakers in the device around Sasha's ankle.

Too fast for Yang to see, Sasha was back in her face – one hand around her throat, the other held ready to strike.

Yang saw Sasha's hand rear back and flinched, expecting the blow.

But just as her fist arced forward, a small white hand appeared around Sasha's wrist, restraining her.

"Sasha!" barked the little girl with a surprisingly harsh voice.

Immediately Sasha's body relaxed and she released her grip on Yang's neck. Sputtering, Yang slumped to the floor and struggled for breath. She listened as the beeping in Sasha's monitor quickly faded back into silence.

"Not now! This isn't the time," said Roxie.

Sasha grunted, nodding. She smoothed down the front of her shirt and wiped at the corner of her mouth with her wrist. Bending over Yang, she spat in her ear.

"Next time, dear sister."

Sister? thought Yang weakly. What is she talking about?

For several minutes Yang lay on the floor feeling broken and empty. Eventually, her fear of being found like this forced her to pick herself up, leaning heavily against the wall.

After that, she had slowly stumbled her way back to her cell, leaving the mop on the floor outside the showers.

Cadeja had looked up at her as she half-lunged, half-fell into their cell.

"What the hell happened?" she asked, genuine concern in her voice.

"I don't wanna fucking talk about it ok?" Yang spat, still clutching her ribs.

Surprise flickered in Cadeja's eyes.

Yang was leaning against their bunks, breathing heavily. After a moment, she tried to pull herself up into her bed but couldn't. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes.

"Help me up," she growled.

Wordlessly, Cadeja helped Yang boost herself into the top bunk. A small cry escaped her lips when she bent at the waist – ribs groaning from the stress.

For a moment, Yang just laid there. Her legs were still hanging off the side of the bed.

"Whatever it is, you don't have to talk to me about it. But little ave rota-"

"I AM NOT BROKEN," screamed Yang, silencing Cadeja.

After a brief pause, Cadeja scoffed, tossing her hair.

"I'm gonna give you a pass on this one, Xiao Long," she said, settling back into her bunk and out of sight.

Yang barely heard as she rolled onto her side, left arm hugging her ribs. Blood dripped down from her split lip, hot against her skin.

Exhausted, Yang started to slip in and out of consciousness. Silent tears slid down her cheeks.

Sometime later – she didn't know how long – the voice of a CO startled her awake.

"Álvarez! Xiao Long! Queue up, you've got rec hour in the Yard in five minutes."

Yang half-registered Cadeja's voice as she explained to the CO that Yang wasn't feeling well.

"…probably just a stomach bug, she'll be alright…"

Luckily, it was CO Lowell. Out of all the guards, she was one of a handful who actually gave a damn about the inmates. Soft-spoken and rather un-intimidating, Yang had often wondered what had landed a person like her in a job like this.

Casting an eye up to Yang's bunk, Lowell hesitated. Then she nodded. "Okay, she can stay. Get moving Álvarez."

They left, and Yang was alone. Her vision blurred around the tears, small sobs causing her cracked ribs to shudder.

This is me now. This is my life.

Burying her face in her pillow, Yang slept fitfully – dipping in and out of fragmented dreams. Scenes from the Vytal Tournament kept flashing through her mind.

Her – fighting Mercury. The whole world watching. The stadium was alive with noise. She was spinning through the air, exchanging blows. She was flying – high on the fight.

She was getting hit – heat rising from her semblance. His guard dropped, she got inside his range. The buzz of speakers – and the match was over.

Then, the crack of Ember Celica firing.

Waking slightly, Yang clutched the side of her head with her hand, squeezing her eyes shut.

Mercury's screams.

She'd seen him attack! He was coming at her! She needed to defend herself-

She wouldn't just strike a disarmed man.

She wouldn't.

Did she?

Yang winced, breath hitching in her lungs.

Did I? thought Yang. Was what I saw all just… in my head?

I – am I… insane?

I wouldn't have let my anger take control. I wouldn't!

But…

Her thoughts trailed off, remembering the video of the fight.

But…

I AM NOT A MONSTER!

She screamed inside her head. She tossed and turned, getting tangled up in the sheets and smearing blood everywhere.

She was breathing heavily, pain burning in her side. More memories battered her mind.

Blake!

Blaaaake! Where are you?

The echo of Yang's voice rang inside her head.

Blaaaaaaaaaaake!

Heat firing in her veins when she saw Adam, standing over Blake.

She roared, lunging –

Then pain, hot pain. Her arm was on fire – her whole body burned in the flames.

Then later – waking up from the darkness, deformed.

She gritted her teeth.

I am not a monster. That night did not break me.

A sheen of sweat slicked her brow. Her hair was damp and tangled.

I am not a monster. That night did not break me.

Repeating the words to herself under her breath, she forced herself to sit up. Her hand brushed against Taiyang's letter, hidden under her pillow.

Her breathing slowed, returning to normal. She propped herself up, leaning against the wall.

She remembered her father's words. Listening as his voice came to her through the letter, she heard him say:

"There's a lot of people here who still believe in you, Yang. It might seem like the darkest hour, but there are people who love and care for you, and know you for you."

The echo of her father's words faded, and she gripped the sheets of paper in her hand. She took a deep breath, eyes boring holes into the wall across from her.

I am not a monster. That night did not break me.

I am Yang Xiao Long.

Author's note: Hey guys! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, I feel like it's the first time I've really had a chance to dive into Yang's emotional experience throughout this whole thing. Chapter four will hopefully be ready soon!

Also I'd just like that thank FrickFrackDotNerd for making edits and always being very patient with my incessant babbling :)