Behind Bars, Volume Two

Part Seven: Things Fall Apart

Where you see an * a translation will be provided at the bottom of the page

"Cadeja!" said Yang again, this time her voice louder.

At the sound of Yang's voice, Cadeja's eyes flicked up to meet Yang's, numbly acknowledging her entrance into the cell. But then her eyes slid slowly back down to the floor, resuming their blind gaze. Her mouth puckered into a frown, a mixture of pain and thinly veiled anger on her face.

Vaguely, Yang registered the presence of several people in her cell. Besides Cadeja, Doc, Adrienne, and CO Quinn all stood crammed into the small, square space.

But for the most part, Yang's eyes stayed glued to her friend's face.

Cadeja's normally smooth, olive-toned skin was covered in bruises and raised, angry red welts. Absentmindedly, Cadeja rubbed one of her wrists – where Yang saw reddish-purple marks that looked like fingers wrapped around her arm. There was even something below the corner of Cadeja's jaw on her neck that looked like a cigarette burn.

An image of a carton of Pincoyas flashed in Yang's mind, and she immediately knew who had done this to Cadeja.

"What the hell happened?" asked Yang. She looked directly at Cadeja, ignoring the other women in the cell.

CO Quinn grunted, shaking her head.

"She 'fell,' said the Faunus guard, her tone thick with sarcasm. "Ain't that right, Álvarez?"

"CO Quinn," quipped Adrienne. "That's not helping."

Meanwhile, Cadeja maintained her silence. Only a brief flash of irritation while Quinn was speaking betrayed that she was listening.

Yang glanced around the room, quickly studying the prison's personnel who were present. Doc stood the closest to Cadeja, hovering over her mattress on the floor. She looked down at the Faunus with a concerned look on her face, but her hands were tucked uselessly into the pockets of her long white coat.

CO Quinn stood just inside the cell door, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked frustrated and to Yang it seemed like she wanted to throw her hands up and leave.

Adrienne sat on the edge of Laurel's bunk, one leg crossed over the other. Her eyes watched the whole room – carefully observing both Yang and Cadeja. As usual, Yang didn't know what to make of her – friend, or foe.

"Cadeja?" asked Yang again, a note of something verging on fear sneaking into her tone.

Cadeja's hands stopped fidgeting and her ears flattened to her head like they often did when she was angry. Her top lip curled up, almost as if she was fighting the urge to snarl. Uncrossing her legs, she laid down on the mattress and rolled over, turning her back to Yang and facing the wall.

"I think we've done just about all we can here," said Doc. Her voice – usually bright and commanding – sounded a little defeated.

"Well no shit," muttered CO Quinn under her breath. The short spikes that ran all the way down her back bristled slightly as she shoved herself away from the wall.

Doc shook her head, casting one glance back down at Cadeja, who still stared resolute and silent at the wall. Sighing, she followed CO Quinn out of the cell.

Adrienne stayed perched on the bottom bunk for another moment, but after a few seconds she wordlessly got up and followed the other two women out of the cell, brushing past Yang's shoulder as she went.

When she was gone, Yang hesitated for a moment, not sure of what to do. She'd seen Cadeja look somewhat broken before – Yang wasn't sure how long it would take to forget Cadeja's face after they'd pulled her fangs in the SHU, if ever – but this was different.

Her usually sarcastic, strong, vibrant friend was gone. Laying on the mattress was someone else – someone that looked like a cornered animal.

Still dithering, Yang lowered herself into a sitting position on the edge of Cadeja's mattress. She reached her hand out to touch Cadeja's leg but then she stopped herself, figuring it wouldn't be received well.

Even after Yang sat down beside her, Cadeja didn't move or speak. She simply stared straight ahead, the muscles in her neck and jaw tense. Every once in a while she'd flinch, pain flashing across her face.

But after a minute passed, Yang felt the pressure of time. The rest of B Block would be back soon – including Darrah and Laurel. Their privacy had a clock on it.

"What happened?" she finally asked, her voice low.

One of Cadeja's shaggy white ears flicked up, the black tufted tip twitching at the sound of Yang's voice.

The volume of voices in B Block rose as more girls arrived back in the cellblock, and so Yang tried again.

"Cadeja – what happened?"

The wolf Faunus gritted her teeth.

"You 'member that time you showed up in the cell right after Sasha and that little blonde twink beat the shit outta your ass?" she said.

"…Yeah?"

"Then do me a favor and do what I did back then – don't ask me any more questions. Comprendes, tonta?"

"Cadeja…" said Yang, her voice unsure.

"Eh! Cállate, cabrona! Déjame en paz," shouted Cadeja, pushing herself up onto one elbow.

She tossed her hair, stopping for a moment to get control of her voice before continuing.

"Escúchame: Don't. Ask. Questions. Not right now. Okay?"

She paused, her sharp green eyes holding Yang's gaze.

"If anyone asks, I fell in the shower. You got that, ave rota?" she said, her tone commanding.

Yang nodded, but couldn't stop herself from saying something back.

"Nobody's gonna believe that, you know."

Cadeja glared at her for another second before dropping herself back down on the mattress and going back to staring at the wall.

"Anyone with a brain around here is gonna know it was Judith," said Yang.

"Luckily there ain't too many people around here like that. This ain't your fancy school, Xiao Long, it's a fuckin' prison. Not exactly a meeting of the minds."

"That's not funny, Cadeja," said Yang, just above a whisper.

Cadeja sighed, shaking her head.

Still not looking at Yang, she said, "I know it's not, ave rota."

Cadeja's hair hid most of her face, but it parted over her shoulder so that Yang could see the burn on her neck again. Looking at it, something occurred to Yang.

"It's because of the monitors, isn't it?"

Cadeja stiffened but didn't respond.

"They knew you'd be handicapped – you wouldn't be able to really fight back without electrocuting the hell out of yourself. So what – they ganged up on you? Won with numbers?"

Still no answer.

"Yup, that's what I thought," said Yang, more to herself than to Cadeja.

They took advantage of the timing. Judith's been getting angrier for a while – probably ever since Cadeja got in Leonie's face about Raya and the contraband. Leonie yells at Judith, and Judith – taking advantage of the restriction on aura – takes it out on Cadeja.

Damn, thought Yang, her hand tightening into a fist. Church was right. Cadeja's anger led her here.

For the briefest of seconds, Yang found herself getting angry with her friend – she knew picking a fight with the Vertés was dumb. Beyond dumb even. It was reckless and stupid and careless and dangerous.

But then Yang saw the bruises again, and the look on Cadeja's face – sure, there was anger and pain but there was also something like sadness and regret, maybe even fear – and her own frustration was gone.

Yang reached out again, this time letting her hand rest on Cadeja's calf. Cadeja didn't acknowledge the contact but she didn't pull away or rebuke Yang. For a moment, they just sat there wordlessly.

But then a voice floated through the cell from over Yang's shoulder, breaking the silence.

"You look like shit," said Darrah, announcing her arrival.

Cadeja growled, the sound rumbling deep in her throat, but Darrah simply rolled her eyes and picked her way around Yang and Cadeja's mattresses on the floor and hauled herself up onto the top bunk of her and Laurel's bed. In her wake, Laurel shuffled soundlessly into the cell.

Yang caught the quiet girl's eye for a moment, but like a skittish rabbit Laurel looked away and fled into the farthest corner of her bed, hiding in the half-shadows cast by Darrah's bunk above her.

However, Yang noticed Laurel's eyes steal over to stare at Cadeja every few seconds.

Realizing that any chance she had of really talking to Cadeja had vanished now that the other two girls had returned, Yang's shoulders slumped – as if all the energy had gone out of her. Sliding her hand off of Cadeja's leg, she crawled over to her own mattress and laid down to stare at the ceiling.

For a while, Yang tried to clear her mind and shove down all the words she wanted to say to Cadeja. To yell at her and cry and stamp her feet like a child.

How could she be so stupid?! How could she let herself pick a fight with one of the most powerful women in here?

How could she?

Yang took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and focusing on a speck of what she assumed was mold on the ceiling.

And for a few seconds she would be calm. But then she'd start to get mad or irritated again, feeling like the only way to really calm down would be to roll over and shout at her friend until she admitted that she was wrong and Yang was right and that she'd never do anything like this ever again.

Yang closed her eyes, feeling like her skin was buzzing. She focused on little sounds in the room: the rise and fall of somebody's breathing – probably Cadeja's. The occasional ssshnick as Darrah flipped a page in whatever book she was reading.

Over and over again, she counted to ten in her head, still trying to focus on her breathing. She noticed her fingers were wrapped into a tight fist, and she forced the muscles in her hand to relax.

After a few minutes, Yang had managed to at least set aside the urge to sit up and scream at her friend. But then a new thought occurred to her, sinking in her gut like a cold stone.

All the breath whooshed out of her and her eyes snapped open. For a moment she didn't move or breathe or think in coherent words – she was just frozen on her dirty gray mattress on the dirty gray floor of the dirty gray Birdcage.

Cadeja was hurt. She was probably hurt bad – worse than what Yang could see on her wrists and face and neck.

And she was scared. So scared that she was angry at Yang – Yang, who'd had nothing to do with her getting attacked.

And up next for them – for all the inmates of D Block – was dinner.

In the cafe.

Where there'd be humans and Faunus and guards – both on the take and not.

Where there'd be Judith. And Leonie. And Sasha. And Roxie.

And Sasha.

And Yang would have to turn her back on Cadeja. She'd have to turn her back on her, because Sasha would be watching – making sure that Yang created "distance" between herself and Cadeja, all to ensure that Sasha and Raven's stupid little plan worked.

Oh fuck.

When dinnertime had rolled around, and the guards had opened up the cells, the former inmates of D Block lined up to head to the cafeteria.

Almost reluctantly, Cadeja picked herself up off of the mattress – one limb at a time. Yang watched her carefully. She was holding her ribs and her breaths were shallow. There was definitely something wrong – some big bruises, no doubt, hiding under the khaki shirt of her prison uniform.

Her steps were slow, measured. Yang stayed behind her, still watching. There was a hitch in her walk, a hesitation – a slight leaning. She was favoring her left side. Cadeja's first few steps were the most ginger, and then she seemed to at least settle into some sort of rhythm – slow, forced, unwilling, but a rhythm nonetheless.

As they made their way to the cafe, several of the girls in line behind them grew irritated with Cadeja's slow pace, holding them up and keeping them from getting their dinner. They pushed and shoved, shoulders and elbows slamming into Yang as they forced their way past.

But Yang silently took the hits, blocking them from Cadeja. The wolf Faunus remained untouched, and even though she didn't say a word, Yang knew that Cadeja knew what she was doing: she was protecting her.

She was being a good friend.

For now.

Yang ran threw a million different things to say in her mind: how to explain in a few quick, whispered words that she didn't have a choice. That she didn't want to turn her back on Cadeja. That this wasn't because of Judith's attack. That she wasn't mad or upset or scared.

Well, maybe she was scared.

She was definitely scared.

This was Sasha. And Raven.

At least Sasha was somebody Yang knew – she was somebody Yang had seen: she knew how Sasha operated, she knew what lengths she'd go to, and she knew what means she'd used to get there.

But Raven.

She didn't know Raven.

It didn't matter that Raven was her mother. It didn't matter that maybe this one time in a train car she'd saved Yang's life.

Maybe.

It didn't matter that she'd managed to wrangle a few snippets of stories out of her father and her uncle.

It didn't matter that every time she closed her eyes to go to sleep, she saw this face. This face that looked so much like her own.

None of it mattered. Raven was an unknown quantity. Something that couldn't be trusted.

Something that should be feared.

But none of that would matter to Cadeja. At least not right now, not today.

All she was going to see was this one person – maybe this one and only friend she'd managed to make in here, not a relative or someone from her life before, but a perfect stranger who'd managed to look into the long black shithole that was Briarcliff and stand by her side and say, Hey. I think we can do this. Together.

She was going to see that person turn her back and walk away from her, on a day when she was already laid low and broken. With bruises on her face, a hitch in her step, and a burn on her neck.

So what the hell could Yang say that would make it better? Or at least make it seem like it all sucked less?

By the time they found themselves standing in line, trays in hand, Yang hadn't come up with a single thing to say.

The line crawled forward as girl after girl held out her tray, waiting for whatever it was they were serving to be slopped into a bowl or onto a plate. Some snatched up a jello or the least moldy looking piece of bread. Yang watched the girl in front of her sneak not one but two yogurts, tucking the second one into her bra in an unconvincing attempt to hide it.

But Yang didn't care. She barely noticed as a hair-netted woman plopped something that looked like chicken noodle soup into a plastic pink bowl on her tray. She was running out of time.

Pretty soon, they were at the end of the line, about to slide their trays off the metal counter. Yang knew Cadeja would turn and head straight for their usual table, like she always did. It didn't matter that she was mad. It didn't matter that they were barely speaking. She'd go and she'd expect Yang to be right behind her.

But she wouldn't be.

Steeling herself, Yang leaned forward and whispered in Cadeja's ear.

"I need to tell you something."

Cadeja glared down at her, clearly not noticing how serious and urgent Yang's tone was. Rolling her eyes, she started to walk away. But dropping her tray back onto the metal counter, Yang reached out and grabbed Cadeja's arm.

Cadeja turned on her like she'd been stung – something feral glinting in her eyes for a moment before she regained her careless "fuck you" mask.

"No listen to me," hissed Yang. "Please," she added, trying to get Cadeja to understand.

A girl behind Yang in line grunted, shoving her way past to the tables beyond the end of the queue. Feeling in the way, Yang shuffled forward, still holding Cadeja's arm.

"We've only got a minute," said Yang, her eyes roving through the sea of faces already seated in the cafe, looking for Sasha or any of her crew.

Something inside of Cadeja clicked and her eyebrows kneaded together, concerned.

"You're serious aren't you?" she asked.

Yang ignored the question.

"Something happened in the Yard with Sasha. I can't go into all the details – just know it has more shit to do with my mom," said Yang, her voice coming out in a desperately babbling rapid fire of syllables.

Cadeja opened her mouth, about to interject but Yang cut her off and kept going.

"Sasha wants me to get on the work crews – they're taking on more girls, humans included. She wants me to get close to the contraband channels and keep an eye on the Vertés."

"Are you insane?!" screeched Cadeja.

"Shh! Keep it down," chided Yang, looking around to see if anyone had overheard. "Look, I know it's stupid-"

"You're damn right it's stupid-"

"We don't have time for that!" hissed Yang. "Just – just listen, okay? I can't be seen with you. Not after this. I can't sit with you without Judith thinking I'm taking your side over theirs. And if I ignore Sasha…" said Yang, her voice trailing off. The consequences were obvious enough – Cadeja would figure it out.

Belatedly Yang realized that she hadn't looked Cadeja in the eye the whole time she'd been explaining the situation. Forcing herself to look up, she saw what she'd been expecting: Cadeja's eyes betrayed how hurt she was. Yang was abandoning her to play prison politics with a bunch of crazy, power-mad bitches in green jumpsuits.

"Cadeja-"

"No, Xiao Long. I get it. You gotta do this," said Cadeja, her tone flat.

Yang was stunned.

"I – I don't-"

"But I don't gotta like it," said Cadeja, stone-faced. Something sad crept into her eyes, and she almost looked disappointed.

Her words hit Yang like a slap in the face. Slowly, her hand fell from Cadeja's arm.

"I get that you're doin' what you think you gotta do, ave rota. I get that you probably think you're even protectin' me or Raya – gods know I get that," she said, pausing. "But you're only gonna get yourself – and the rest of us – hurt. You'll see, Xiao Long. You'll see."

With that she started to walk away, heading for their usual table and leaving Yang standing behind her, frozen.

But something snapped inside of Yang.

"You don't get it, do you? I don't have a choice!" she said, perhaps a little too loud.

"Of course you have a choice!" snapped Cadeja, still walking away.

"No I don't! Don't you see?" shouted Yang.

Cadeja stopped, and turned her chin to look at Yang in profile.

"Es la caza, y la cazadora. Es el juego y la niña que no sabe el engaño. Tú lo verás, algún día, ave rota. Tengo razón, y si no prestas atención a mi advertencia, serás la cazada."*

Yang struggled to understand – it had been weeks since they'd practiced the language together consistently – and before she could even start to formulate a response, Cadeja was gone, disappearing through the crowded room.

Yang stared after her for a moment until she lost sight of her wild, white mess of hair. Thawing out, Yang turned and with one look at her tray she decided to leave it.

Walking away, she saw where Sasha and her crew usually sat, but she couldn't bring herself to sit with them. Picking her way through the metal tables bolted to the floor, she walked over to and empty one and sat down, alone.

No one bothered her or came to sit with her, she just sat there – feeling hollow and waiting for dinner to be over. At one point she did catch Sasha peering over at her gleefully, but Yang turned her back and leaned her head down on her arm, splayed across the table. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited out the rest of their meal time in silence.

Every few minutes she'd catch herself nurturing the hope that they'd get back to the cell and everything would be fine – Cadeja would let her explain and see her side and let her back in – but then she squashed those thoughts back down, knowing better than to think like that.

And she was right. When the COs finally called them and marshalled them back to B Block, there was silence. In the cafe, in the halls, in the cell – neither one of them so much as looked at the other.

There would be no more words tonight. Something had broken between them – some sort of trust that Yang hadn't even realized she'd lose by following Sasha's orders. She'd expected anger and shouting and scolding – but Cadeja was silent.

She ignored Yang and Darrah and Laurel – she was in her own world. Totally removed. Unreachable.

And when Yang went to bed that night – in a cell crowded with too many bodies, in a building bursting with too many inmates, on a mountainside crawling with who knows what – she was more alone than she had been since her first night in the Birdcage.

Two days later and still nothing had changed.

Well, thought Yang, her mind meandering in downward spirals. That's not quite right. Things have changed.

They've gotten worse.

The dynamic in Briarcliff had shifted. Judith and Leonie had split – that rift clearly was not going to be mended anytime soon. And every day things got a little more tense as they fought for a majority amongst the work crews.

Especially with new recruits being signed on every day, each new girl was swallowed up by one or the other. It was a numbers game: whoever had the greatest influence would win out in the end, and take over the channels running contraband into the prison.

Leonie had de facto adopted Cadeja. She now sat with them at lunch. Her and Yang's old table was abandoned – nobody sat there.

Judith was fuming, but trying not to show it. But Yang watched her, and she caught her staring daggers at Leonie, Cadeja, Sasha, or anyone unfortunate enough to get too close when she was in a bad mood.

But it was clear to see: somehow, Judith was winning. She'd secured the work crews in the Yard and in what was left of D Block. Leonie still held on to the reconstruction crews in A Block, but Yang wasn't sure how long that would last.

But pretty soon, Yang would get her chance to take a closer look and find out for herself – whether she liked it or not.

One day when Yang was sitting in the cafeteria, alone – her new norm – Sasha had approached her, the devil coming to collect her due.

It was time, she'd said. Time to take the next step. Yang had started to put some distance between herself and the "mutt," as Sasha put it. Now she had to ask to get her work assignment changed.

And she'd have to ask one of the senior guards who was cleared to work in the reconstruction areas. Someone she knew, someone who maybe knew her.

Sasha had said that with a wink. For some reason, Yang's stomach had flipped and her throat had tightened, her hand wrapping around her stupid hard plastic cup like she could crush it with just the strength of her fingers.

It was decided. Today was the day. She'd approach CO Reilly before the end of lunch and ask to get on the work crews.

Yang was sitting at a table near the front of the cafe, close to the kitchens. Her tray of food was untouched. After a half hour of just sitting there, her P.B. and J. sandwich was soggy, collapsing in on itself in the middle.

Thinking about what was happening to her – what she had to do – Yang just felt numb. Like she was floating – sitting in this stew of apathy, unwilling to move or speak or think.

But she had to get up.

She had to.

And so she did.

She left her tray on the table. She didn't care. One of the girls from the kitchens could get it. She'd be pissed, but so what?

Rather than wind her way through the tables, Yang cut across to the wall and followed it back towards the entrance to the cafe. Ahead of her, four guards stood in the doorway, vaguely watching the inmates around them.

CO Reilly was there – farther away from the other three. She'd watched him from across the room, waiting for him to step away before making her move.

He was slumped against the wall, hiding one hand between it and his leg. He must've had a flask or a cigarette or something hidden there – and as Yang got close she figured it was the former because she didn't smell smoke.

She remembered the first time she'd met him. The first time he'd escorted her through the halls of the Birdcage – his clammy hand wrapped around her skin.

His hair was greasy and his skin was pale. His eyes were a little red, rimmed by dark bags sunken into his cheeks. Leaning against the wall, he slouched like some tired beast – weary and bored.

But Yang was cutting a beeline through the room towards him, and when he noticed he stood up to attention.

"CO Reilly?" she asked, her voice was weak and sounded like a little girl. Yang was mad at herself for being nervous, but there wasn't anything she could really do about it. She didn't trust him – and for good reason.

For a moment he didn't respond, sizing her up with his eyes.

"Inmate?" he finally said, lazily.

Yang's cheeks flushed – and not just because she was embarrassed.

What the hell am I supposed to do? she screamed internally.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and above everything – she was mad. She was furious – absolutely pissed that this was her life now. Following her mother's orders for who knows why. Wading through the mire of bullshit in this prison with these people, betraying the one and only real friend she'd made.

Reilly cleared his throat, getting tired of waiting for a response. Yang notice him tuck something into his pocket – presumably the flask or whatever it was he'd been drinking from.

Yang ground her teeth together, steeling herself and trying to get her tone back under control.

"I was wondering," she said, hoping she sounded more playful and naïve than she did. "I'd heard about the request for more girls to help out on the work crews, and I knew you'd been working with them…"

Her voice trailed off and her eyes were trained on the floor. Forcing herself to look up, she peeked up through her bangs and flashed him a hesitant smile.

But what she saw unsettled her. He was grinning at her – a full on, teeth-showing grin. The mottled skin of his cheeks flushed red and a vein popped out in his throat.

"Are you serious?" he said, finally losing his fight not to laugh. Holding his stomach with one hand, he practically bent over sniggering.

Yang was taken aback, and for a moment she stood there frozen – just watching him laugh himself to the verge of tears.

"C…O…?" she mumbled, still stunned.

After a moment he collected himself, straightening back up and looking her in the eye.

"Hot damn, you are serious aren't you?"

Yang saw a clear picture in her mind of her ramming a fist into his big fat mouth, but she swallowed her anger and managed to remain silent. However, she couldn't help but glare at him, her lilac eyes hardening in the harsh light of the fluorescents.

Reilly looked down at her with something like pity in his eyes, but still he smiled. Pointing at her arm, he said, "What the hell kind of good are you gonna be doing hard labor with that?"

Internally, Yang winced but she didn't let it show on her face.

Yup. That's it. I tried. Too bad. Sasha and Raven will just have to live with it, she thought, ready to give up.

But she didn't give up. She took a deep breath, and got ready to start again. She couldn't turn back now. Sasha had anticipated this. And besides, she wouldn't let Yang off that easy – she'd just end up having to try again any ways.

"CO…" she murmured, reaching out with her hand and trailing her finger down across his bare forearm. "I can be plenty useful, trust me."

She hoped she sounded convincing, but all Yang could hear was the roar of her blood in her ears. When she touched him, the taste of bile burned in her throat like acid, and it took everything she had to keep her hand from shaking.

"Oh yeah?" he said, his eyes reevaluating her.

Yang let her hand trail up, following the curve of his shoulder until it turned, and then she let her fingers stray across the front of his shirt. Her hand paused against his chest, and then meandered down over his stomach and then she finally broke the contact, taking a step back.

Reilly looked at her, uncertain.

"You remember me, don't you?" she asked, noticing that her voice was a little higher than usual. She wondered if she was laying it on a bit too thick.

"I've seen you," he grunted, not sure where she was going with this.

"And you saw me? In D Block? I survived the attack. And there were plenty of girls who didn't," Yang said, hating herself for playing games like this.

A dim light of understanding glinted in his eye.

"Yeah, so?" he prompted her.

"So I think I can take care of myself, don't you?" she said, her voice growing a little stronger. She straightened up to her full height, making use of the fact that she was only an inch or two shorter than him.

Unconsciously, Reilly took a half step back.

"I – I guess," he stammered, not sure how to counter her.

In that moment – when he backed away and showed his weakness, Yang knew she had won.

He was just a grunt – a brute – a bully hired to police girls in handcuffs. He didn't have the same dangerous air about him that Kowalski did. This man was different. He wasn't something to be feared – he wasn't a hunter, he was just an animal – following his desires.

The Vertés and their girls had promised him things. And he delivered for them, so long as he got what he wanted. He wasn't playing the game of prison politics like the rest of them were. He was just riding the wave – snapping up whatever goodies he could get.

"So," Yang said, the placating tone leaving her voice as she gave up the act and decided to take control. "You admit it then, I can hold my own."

Reilly dithered for a second – trying to think of something to say. But he came up empty.

And even though he wasn't as dangerous a man as Kowalski – even though he wasn't this slick, sly beast – he didn't like to be beaten, and he resented Yang for talking him in circles.

"I guess so, Xiao Long," he growled, using her name for the first time.

Yang couldn't entirely hide the wince that shuddered through her at hearing her name in his mouth.

Reilly noticed, and he grinned – thinking he'd somehow scored a point.

"I think I've got just the spot for you," he said, sounding triumphant – like he'd turned this around on her. Like instead of giving her what she'd asked for, he'd come up with this all on his own – like some great punishment.

"Yup," he said, still mulling it over, "it's just the right thing for you." His eyes roved over her, in no way hiding the fact that they strayed over her chest for just a moment too long.

When she didn't respond, a small flame of anger flashed in his eyes.

"Say thank you, inmate," he purred, enjoying watching her squirm.

Yang wanted to punch him in the gut and walk away and pretend like this had never happened, but she bit down on her tongue and squeezed her hand into a tight fist.

Fighting with herself, she forced out the three little words that cut at her like knives.

"Thank you, CO."

"That's a girl," he said, grinning like a fool. "Now off you go." He shooed her away with a careless wave of his hand.

Yang suppressed a growl and she turned sharply on her heel, practically ready to storm across the cafe.

But after just a few steps, she was brought up short. Leering across the room, she made eye contact with CO Quinn – standing against the wall on the far side of the cafe.

Her sharp eyes bored into Yang and her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. She didn't move or speak or so much as blink but the way she looked at Yang – it was enough.

It was enough to say: "I see you."

She'd seen the whole thing – been watching them like a hawk.

CO Quinn was a newer guard. She wasn't quite like the other COs. As far as Yang could tell, she actually cared about her job, even if she didn't always like the administration she worked under. Clearly, she didn't like the Atlesian forces – her encounter with Winter was enough to demonstrate that.

But there was something about her – something that made her different.

And not just because she was a Faunus – surprisingly, she was one of only a handful of new guards that knew their ass from a pair of handcuffs. And she actually seemed to care – clearly she wasn't happy with Cadeja's decision to keep her mouth shut about Judith.

CO Quinn wasn't stupid, and she wasn't blind. And she most definitely was not a part of the contraband trade.

But she probably knew who was.

And just like that – Yang Xiao Long had made one more enemy in the Birdcage.

*Translation: It's the hunt, and the huntress. The game and the child who doesn't know the trick. You'll see it, some day, ave rota (broken bird). I'm right, and if you don't heed my warning, you will be the hunted.

Author's note: Sorry guys, I had to drive Yang and Cadeja apart for now – there will be a chance for them to make up later though! We'll just have to wait and see how things go.

Also, after what feels like a long time (for me at least) some high-action stuff will start to come back into the story next chapter. As always, hit me up with comments/suggestions/questions - I really appreciate the feedback!

And I feel like I haven't done this in a while, so here's a preview of what's next:

Chapter 8: Wildfell (another literary reference, as is "Things Fall Apart"). Yang starts to work on the reconstruction with Judith and the others, returning to D Block for the first time since the Grimm attack. But Judith is wary of her, and has other plans in mind – plans that may even get some of her own girls hurt. How far will she go to get back at her sister, and take control of the Birdcage?