Valence

by Cowjump

With the end of their first year at Beacon Academy having come to pass, Team RWBY must contend with the next three months of their summer break. Follow this eclectic bunch as they are thrown into a situation that utilizes neither their combined combat prowess nor their acquired knowledge on all things battle-related during their adventures in the city of Vale.

17. Chapter 17: Nightshade

Welcome back.

I apologize for how long this chapter took to come out. Not only was this particular entry a bit difficult due to the impending subject matter, but the preceding chapter of Edelweiss was similarly demanding. Fortunately, there should be some amount of relief to the intervals at which these chapters are released; however, this will be discussed later in the end author's note.

What is important now is a bit of priming warning. If you remember how the last chapter ended, then you should expect that this instalment will not be quite as happy as most others. In fact, I'd like to think that this chapter is a bit darker than those previous; but this is not to say that it is entirely dark. No, 20,000 words of pure maudlin darkness would just be angst, and that is not my intent. That being said, I wasn't kidding in the last author's note when I referred to this chapter as "The Storm: Part 2." It may not have the same title or structure, but it is not dissimilar to the original. So, I should warn that this chapter will be dark, and while some points are heavier than others and some are even comparatively light, this chapter is altogether grave.

But I should allow you to form your own opinions on it. With that said, I'll leave you with chapter seventeen of Valence.

---

Chapter 17: Nightshade

November rains fell against the Faunus charge, breaking the will of these self-appointed constables and drenching their immaculate, bloodstained dress. A crowd gathered beyond the fence, snarling like the dogs they so often portrayed themselves as and battering against their guarded kennel walls. However, these humans would never be permitted entry to their gates unless they sat, begged, and rolled over—it would only be just. For the first time since the Grimm had been pushed back and the walls erected, humanity found itself poised for defeat. But such an immediate loss would never equal their crimes. No, there was to be a trial by a jury of these scornful constables and a sentence unavoidable except to those Faunus among the opposition. This was justice after so many years of death and imprisonment and yet it was only a stepping stone to true equality. The hammer of thunder shook the Faunus youth.

She stood on the edge of collapse, drifting through both time and iterations of herself while staring blankly at the vicious mob beyond the barricades. She wanted to hate them as all those around her did, but doing so would be uncharacteristic. Truthfully, she was at a loss for what to think. The younger Faunus knew that she needed to defend this factory and take responsibility for those under her command, but she had sworn off the White Fang; she remembered pledging herself to someone else and intending to rectify her past mistakes. But what possible mistakes were there? And who was this someone else if not a member of this infallible group? They all felt important, but so did her fury, and it is to say that in this war of duality, Blake simply wanted to go home.

A shallow mist had settled over the warring factions and shrouded them now in a ghostly haze, obscuring their defining features and alerting Blake to the fact that nothing felt right about this situation. It was late autumn but stiflingly humid, yet she could clearly see the humans' spite through the veil of freezing rain—it was summer and winter; there was new life and death.

Her nonexistent radio squawked, detailing the whereabouts of her impending goal: an orator of mending calibre and a judge who would preside over this uncontested ruling. Breathlessly, a distant name escaped her lips, articulating its faraway love through an instinctual act, but all her subordinates heard were mere practiced orders. Four moved to threaten and part the turbulent sea while six spread out and scanned for impatient jumpers, rifles brandished eagerly at the chance to answer their own prejudices. Still others secured the podium while yet more appeared out of nowhere, forming a driveway for the inevitable car and standing thus at attention. However, this did not seem to be the end, for as Blake scanned the factory parking lot, she found that their numbers did not cease and that it was as if an entire battalion had been placed under her muted control, swarming to protect and eliminating all remaining gaps. Blake was suddenly trapped—within her own mind, on a mission she did not know of prior, and amongst a hateful crowd—and she was scared.

More than this, she was torn between not daring to breathe and physically being unable to. They were a crowd indomitable, unable to be parted by a moment's courage or her own command. No, they were vicious and infectious, they were able to rouse her fury and make her clutch at her gun. Yet they were many and numerous, and if she were to fail her objective by giving way to the humans, they would undoubtedly crush her in the name of misguided sympathy—but this had always been the White Fang's flaw, had it not? They were dissonant in their fealty logic, heeding the calls of braying warmongers while striving for peace for a supposedly indefensible people. But Blake was no different, for who would join to protest and stay for the slaughter? This was wrong, so very, very wrong, and as the humans roared and the unseen gates groaned open, her impossible breath hitched.

She was smaller than the rest, feet shorter than her nearest allies, but somehow she could see above her commanded throng as the black limousine parted the crowd and entered the safety of the thousand guards. The humans erupted into a sudden frenzy, shouting obscenities and slurs. But even these could not affect Blake nearly as much as what her comrades chanted. "Bite the hand!" they roared. "Bite the hand!" It was an infuriating chant, one which contradicted the White Fang's constructive efforts and animalized their cause. Still, the young Faunus screamed unwittingly and against her own good judgment, falling in line with her childhood beliefs and coming to hate the quieter crowd beyond the gates.

But this was wrong. Humans were not her enemy. In fact, she had been accepted by them as Blake Belladonna for the first time since joining the White Fang. Among them, she was not simply another nameless lieutenant, a child star with a knack for the shadows; she was a friend, a partner, and a member of families both biological and otherwise. She was strong in her convictions and open with her emotions, but among this crowd she had become nerveless and quiet, only shouting when the action was vogue. And as the car door opened at the foot of the podium's stage, she knew unconditionally that her anger was misplaced.

Suddenly, a sight of flame and gold stumbled out of the vehicle and crashed against the pavement. Just as quickly, Blake's chants stopped at this first viewing of Yang. Anger turned to fear as the blonde was hoisted up by a black glove and a black jacket amongst this sea of white.

Yang had no strength left to complain, no fire in her eyes as would be readily apparent. Instead, she compliantly walked to the whim of her captor. Unfortunately, this allowed Blake a chance to glimpse the pain in her partner's features, the enervated blankness of her usual lilac smile and her telltale frown of internal deliberation—she was beaten down, but not in any physical way. Her mind now clung to doubts and her stubborn will had faded completely; this was justified to her, Blake surmised. Yang saw whatever was happening as justified and would peacefully face her doom for the wrongdoings she did not commit. And as she ascended the steps of her penance, bringing with her the leadership executor, Blake's heart sank, silencing every word she could ever say and spurring her mind towards hopeful rationalizations.

A brief hush swept across the crowds, an irreverent pause for the spectacle to come. All eyes turned to the dour blonde who now stood beside the podium while all hostilities coalesced on her lone figure. However, as soon as the man in black took his place behind the lectern, the chants restarted. "Bite the hand!" screamed the masked forces with fists held high. "Bite the hand!" bellowed the opposition beyond the gate. "Bite the hand!" cried Blake Belladonna, shuddering against her unwanted fury.

With a quiet rumble of the nearing thunder, rain began to fall harder than ever, battering this child's resolve. This was wrong—Why was Yang here? She should be at Beacon or Signal or somewhere else safe on the island of Patch, but she was here! Even worse, her unbound wrists hung dutifully before her as she awaited her undeserved trial. Beside her was no orator or justice; Blake could not see his face from where she stood, but she knew the man well and so too his venomed scorn. This was all the more reason to be shocked. Yang was here and so was he, and by logic's right, this was to be the end. As Blake screamed the sickly words and glared with all the hate she had grown up with, her bridled tears fell freely. But they were no use—they were for Yang alone, and the blonde would never see them again. The rain fell in torrents, clattering against the steel of the cars and factory and washing away Blake's necessary emotion into invisible obscurity. No matter how much she cried, no one would ever see.

The man raised his hand and, all at once, the chants abruptly stopped. This left the constant hiss of scalding rain and its deafening patter to preside over them all. His hand lowered and came to rest on the hilt of his blade as Blake's eyes frightfully closed.

"Humans are war," he conjectured. "Without them, we would be at peace. We'd be without persecution or shame. There'd be no armies, no hunters, no war, and no fear. Humans are the reason why we fight. Humans are the ones who cannot suffer change. At the briefest hint of opposition, they hide away in their fear and let their generals and soldiers and hunters meter out justice at the cost of all civilization. At the briefest hint of difference, they kill the deemed intruders like a body rejecting its cold. The kingdoms have been at war for thousands of years, fighting an enemy that cannot be beaten, and yet this war will last forever because of hunters like this girl here."

Yang stepped forward, eyes trained apologetically on the masks before her. "Huntresses have extended our war far past a reasonable limit. They glorify weapons, romanticize combat, and find excitement in allowing a choice few Grimm to slip away, letting them repopulate for a larger fight in their future. They play games with our lives for the thrill of a hunt. They're addicts, unable to admit their faults and still cavalier with the lives they supposedly protect. They are our first and last lines of defense, and to secure this position, they choose to never win. Humans are war. If we let them live, we are only dooming ourselves."

With a swift kick to the back of her knee, Yang fell and so too did Blake's hopes. She could not watch as the man unsheathed his sword, placing the red blade at the back of Yang's presented neck. The young Faunus could not look, and though her eyes were screwed shut to avoid the unthinkable, her vision went unobscured. Somehow, she could see the lilac orbs which had always brought her comfort and the sunny grin that welcomed her home. But as Yang now kneeled before the unmoved crowd, the only emotion she showed was a mildly amused smirk.

Blake reached for her hip, wanting to end this needless violence, but she found no pistol. She reached for her back and the esteemed Gambol Shroud, but her arms would not move. She wanted to call out to Yang and tell her to fight—she wanted to take on the legion and overthrow the usurpers—but she could not breathe.

The man raised his sword and the crowd drew a collective, eager breath. Rain pattered against the occupied concrete, marring the whiteness of the thousand with a well-deserved grey. They were wrong, they wanted this, and most frightening of all was the smile that Yang gave. Tears streamed readily down Blake's cheeks as she tried to make a noise—a whimper, a sob, anything at all to at least let Yang know that she was not alone. However, as the blade reached its apex, she found her breath hitched. This girl that she loved and hated would be gone forever, taken by the young Faunus' own cowardice. Had she the strength, Blake would have taken the blade and broken it gladly, and had she the will to vocalize her own fear, she would have given Yang her last solace. But she was weak, a brainwashed coward, and as the blade fell, all she could do was scream, "Bite the hand!"

The hammer of thunder fell with a roaring snap.

---

It was normal for Yang to sleep through a thunderstorm. Her mind was a restless one when it came to others' pain, but she found that the steady thrum of wind and rain could distract her aching heart. This, coupled with the quiet grumblings of the overhead storm, made sleep a guaranteed relief. However, it was only because of the favored Faunus curled up against her front that the experience was made all the more enjoyable. Yang had rested happily and most assuredly safely against her partner, arms wrapped protectively around Blake's shivering form and head nestled cozily between the Faunus' upper ears. The storm had become loud at multiple points during the night, but for the blonde, these crashes of thunder and gusts of rain only eased her into a deeper dreamless slumber. Blake, on the other hand, was not so fortunate.

Yang was awoken sometime in the early morning by Blake shifting in her arms. She had lazily opened an eye to see that her partner was indeed still with her, but rather than closing immediately thereafter, she watched as Blake quietly shivered beneath their shared blanket. A nightmare, she deduced. After all, Blake's fear during the night prior had been of such an event. However, as Yang lay in her half-awake stupor, she noticed that her flared aura had weakened, leaving only her natural heat rather than the flame she had intended.

But this was a simple fix. She cuddled close to her partner and increased the outward flow of heat and security, pulling Blake back against her for good measure. To punctuate this soothing effort, she placed a tired kiss on her girlfriend's ear and shushed her shivers away.

This seemed to work. The small, sudden tremors vanished from Blake's form and she suddenly began to breathe again. Admittedly, Yang had not noticed the lack of this latter factor, her mind having been instead focused on the nightmare's mere existence, but now that she was aware of the detriment and now that said detriment was gone, she could smile freely and drowsily. Sure, Blake could be having a rough time, she reasoned, but this would not matter if the young Faunus did not remember her dream in the morning. This was Yang's plan, this safeguarding ignorance, and she decided on enacting it by sleepily warming her partner's cold and hugging away whatever fears remained. However, reprieve would not be found as Blake's breathing hastened and sharpened, culminating in a series of inarticulate gasps and groans.

In an instant, Yang's eyes flew open, reacting to the quiet noises from the girl beside her. "Blake?" she whispered, freeing her partner from the possibly suffocating embrace and easing up on the outpouring heat. Unfortunately, this received no response. "Blake?" she asked again, this time louder and with full intent to rouse the girl.

Unfortunately, the only reaction to this outside stimulus was a return to shivering and a return in earnest. Blake turned in her sleep, grunting at the slight resistance she received from Yang's lingering hug. However, the blonde could not bring herself to let go, being shocked into a state of immobility by her partner's sudden disturbance. Ruby had never done anything like this whenever she had nightmares, and even then hers were so few and far between that Yang had limited knowledge of what to do. Of course, she would support her partner and comfort her in whatever way she knew how, but all of the blonde's ideas had been exhausted by this point—that is, all options short of waking Blake up, but she had no idea what would happen if she did.

She could see the faint silhouettes of her girlfriend's lips try for words spoken in tongues, but all that came out was incoherent babble which somehow told of a darker tale than imagined. Yang sat up, loosening her hold in the hope of appeasing these shuddering movements and gaining a vantage on her partner's pain. Unfortunately, not even this stopped the vacant convulsions. Blake continued to twist and contort to whatever posture she deemed necessary, and as Yang pulled even further away, truly aghast at this show of unconscious terror, the Faunus' groans found their articulation.

"I can't breathe," she moaned. "I can't breathe."

"Blake?" Yang all but shouted. "Kitten? Is everything all right in there? Come on, talk to me, Blake! Wake up!" She grasped at her partner's shoulders, restraining the Faunus and trying as gently as humanly possible to shake her into consciousness. Blake's face scrunched in pain, brows furrowing and frown deepening as she chanted again. However, the blonde did not relent. She simply could not give up on this chosen action because her partner was in trouble and the only way left to free her was to shake her out of it. "Come on, kitten, wake up now. It's time to wake up. Please, Blake, come on. Wake up!"

In an instant, all of Yang's shaking and all of Blake's groans came to a startled halt as a flash of light filled the room and a booming crash overtook the sisters' home. Lightbulbs rattled and walls shook, and as Yang stared nervously at the silent form beneath her, Blake's eyes snapped open.

Before she knew what was happening, Yang found her hands torn from the Faunus' shoulders and a knee lodged suddenly in her gut. The blonde gasped as breath left her, yet she was unable to remove herself from her girlfriend. Just as quickly, Blake's eyes widened in surprise, aware of the arresting form atop herself yet blind to whom it was. One hand thrust upwards into Yang's throat, desperately trying to return the suffocating sensations, while the other bolted out to the nightstand beside them. To her partner's dismay, Blake quickly found her weapon, and as she clumsily swept her book and alarm from the table, Yang could only choke out strangled pleas. However, a fire burned in the Faunus' eyes, a fury forged by an established vendetta which she now saw fulfillment of. It was this fire which brought the muzzle of Gambol Shroud to Yang's shoulder and it was this fury which gave Blake cause to pull the trigger.

The result was an empty click.

Unfortunately, this only caused the Faunus' eyes to widen even further in alarm. She struggled beneath Yang's form, grunting growls as she again sent a knee into her partner's abdomen, causing the blonde to wince and shift away, taken aback by both the suddenness of the pain and its inflictor. There were no analyzing thoughts in this moment, no rationalizing wishes, only the impetus to react and the disbelief that hindered. Blake was fighting with everything she had to break away from something she simply could not, and though Yang did not fully understand, it was her duty to help.

But Blake was afraid, scared of her past and fighting her own paralysis. With the space Yang had granted her by recoiling, the Faunus was able to pull her arm back, bringing the blonde's eyes to her impendent grip and bearing the blade of her sword.

It was at this point that Yang realized what was to come. As such, she tried desperately to pull herself from her lethargy and bolster her aura. "Blake," she rasped pleadingly. "Blake, it's all right. I'm not trying to hurt you!" She could feel the coarse tingle of a forced power flow throughout her body, the gradual climb in potential energy that simply could not grow fast enough, but as she beheld her partner's furious eyes, Yang knew that everything she said had gone unheard.

And as the former White Fang member brought her sword down with lethal intent, Yang could only scream, "Blake!"

Consciousness took the young Faunus with a start. Blake inhaled sharply as her senses returned, finding that her nightmare had simply been that. There was no crowd, no protest, no trial, and no hatred. She was home and had only been startled by the thunder. For this, she could sigh. However, as she as she tried to relax and accept her present reality, she noticed the oddity of her position. Her knee was pointed upward, her hands, too, and all were contacting something. Her left hand and knee touched something warm and yielding as her right hand was holding… Her eyes widened in realization, releasing this blinding tiredness and revealing to her a sight far worse than any held memory.

Yang strained beneath the choking grip, face red from an apparent lack of oxygen and arms placed shieldingly before herself, altogether tinting a misty orange. However, asphyxiation was not Blake's primary concern. Instead, her shock rested with the blade embedded in her partner's forearm and the painful wince this caused.

Thoughts of how or why did not run through the Faunus' mind. Truly, all she knew in this present moment was that her blade was cutting Yang and that Yang had been cut.

Their door opened with a sudden commotion. "Yang?" called Ruby. She burst into the room, forgoing common courtesy and showering the entryway with semblance petals. Immediately, her eyes gravitated towards the only light in the room and, consequently, she found the iridescent orbs of tearful shock. "Blake? Blake, what happened? Is everything all right?" As if on cue, the young girl found her answer by way of another flash of light. As the thunder cracked and the Faunus winced, Ruby gaped at the image before her. "Yang!" she yelped, rushing to the side of the bed and staring in disbelieving fear at the intersection between flesh and steel.

The girl in reference groaned, pulling herself from her shock-stricken stupor and thereby reacting to her partner's attack. Yang had always been the one to show no fear amongst their group. She seldom admitted pain of any sort and even less often did she display physical anguish to any blow. Now, however, saw Yang in obvious discomfort. She was in pain and audibly so, and as she looked down at her partner, she could only grimace. But she would push on and move Blake's trembling hands for her, taking the back of Gambol Shroud's blade and pulling it out cautiously. It had not pierced too far into her, but it did outpace the shielding aura and had managed to embed itself at an excruciating depth.

At the very moment Yang was released, she rolled off of the Faunus and clutched at her arm desperately. Her breaths came in arrested hisses and she continued to roll onto her front, applying pressure in any way she could to the unexpected wound. Ruby immediately moved to comfort her, placing a hand on her sister's back and asking inaudible questions in the worried way she did.

Blake, meanwhile, was at a loss. The sword fell from her feeble hands and thudded absently on the carpet below. She had hit Yang. She had cut Yang. She had attacked Yang out of blind self-defense when the lines between nightmare and reality had been blurred. She wanted to cry, to apologize, but what apology could there be for an attempt on another's life? For the briefest of moments, Blake had wanted to run and relieve the team of her burden, but she had promised not to. She wanted to fix everything and go back in time and mend every imaginable wound, but it was all impossible. There was no running, no apologies, only acceptance. She could not notice Weiss standing quietly in the doorway or the whispered questions Ruby asked. All Blake knew was that she was a traitor, a coward. She had attacked Yang.

---

Blake sat alone in the sisters' kitchen, hands tearing punishingly at her hair. Thunder continued to crackle at regular intervals and the rains yet rolled in constant waves. However, all the stricken Faunus could see was the frightened look Yang had held. The image was burned into her mind and it was doubtful she would ever get over it—no, forgetting this would be wrong. There had been signs of selfless composure in her infrequent breathing, knitted brows, and complete lack of movement, but once Ruby broke the seal of her sister's calm, every moment of well-concealed suffering was let loose.

Yang had not cried—she was brave like that. Of course, she had reacted as anyone should, but she seemed far more composed in doing so than any person had a right to be. She had grunted, growled, and at one point whimpered, but it was her partner who cried first. Blake held her head now against the island counter, cradling the back of her neck as she pulled at her hair. She had been a coward—a traitor! She ran away to be alone when Weiss gave her the option and had ever since listened to the panicked commotion from down the hall. Surely Yang would live—there were no doubts about her strength—but Blake still worried about the possibility of hatred. There had been a boy in the blonde's life who had abused her, but Blake was unsure if anyone else could achieve this newest level of evil. She had attacked Yang in the middle of the night when her guard was down and had proceeded to run away in shame.

She wanted to be alone. The pain of this silence was now entirely justified. She was a criminal, a coward, and now a poor excuse for a partner, and she was not strong enough to suppress her gasping sobs. She deserved to be alone.

In this loathing moment, all her senses had been dulled and every thought was focused on these blaming rationalizations, fueling her need to cry and building towards an impetus for flight. Fortunately, Blake would suddenly be pulled from these thoughts as a layer of warmth covered her back and a quiet presence appeared behind her. A blanket had been draped over her shoulders and, instinctively, she pulled it close. The figure's hand then rubbed her teammate's back for a hesitant moment before pulling away and leaving the Faunus to her self-effacing ritual. However, it was soon apparent that Blake would not be alone and that this ritual would be postponed. The stool next to her was pulled back and the figure once again reached out.

Blake soon found herself wrapped in an embrace, hugged from the side and pulled towards the form next to her. She let out a quiet whimper and acquiesced, leaning into the warm girl and desperately hoping that it was Yang. Unfortunately, the figure was not, but the mere presence of her teammate was still a thankful reassurance. For now, Blake would shiver against her teammate's chest, sobbing weakly at her unintended act of malice and gripping desperately to the closeness that was provided. Her opposite shoulder was stroked by a cold, uncertain hand while the figure's other held the Faunus still, keeping the blanket close and warding off any feeling of disassociation or aloneness. Whoever this was, Blake was thankful, for now she had a shoulder to lean on and a friend in the darkness.

"Shh," Ruby soothed. "It's gonna be all right. Everything's gonna be okay."

Blake was surprised to a degree, but she simply could not react. Instead, she leaned further into the embrace, scooting closer to her leader and letting Ruby hug her as they together lamented. Blake had hurt this girl's sister; she had destroyed the intended façade of invincibility and had shown that Yang was just as human as everyone else. Ruby was old enough to come to terms with this, but Blake doubted that it would be easy. Yang was a role model they shared and looked to for personal growth, but now that she had been attacked, the young girl had every right to hate the Faunus. Nevertheless, she continued to hug Blake, shushing her quietly and being respectful to these unseemly emotions now on display.

Eventually, Blake's quiet chokes would end, leaving only tears to occasionally catch in the blanket around her. With this quiet, Ruby was given cause to speak, and when she did, she invoked her sister's confidence with a weary smile. "Yang's doing all right," she assured. "You got her pretty good, but I think she'll manage. Weiss is helping her find the first-aid stuff and they'll get her all patched up, but I think she's gonna be fine."

She then took a deep, disconcerting breath. Her hand stopped rubbing her teammate's arm and Blake could only brace for what was to be asked next. "Blake?" she began. "You didn't mean to hit Yang, did you? I mean, I know you probably didn't, but…did you?"

Opening her mouth, Blake tried for a word, but they all felt like lies. She instead shook her head.

"Okay," the young girl said. "That's pretty much all I needed to know. You've been a really good friend to her and I've never seen you two apart, so this is kinda…I don't know. Weird?" She sighed. "I'm sorry, Blake. I never should've made you promise me anything like I did. I shouldn't've doubted that you'd be good to her. And I know you didn't mean to hit her, either—that's just not you. I think she knows that, too, but I also think that's the problem."

This caused Blake's Faunus traits to droop even further, pressing apologetically against her head. Ruby seemed to notice, causing her to suddenly tense. "Sorry! That didn't really come out right." Blake sighed, partly in relief but mostly in solemn acceptance of the pain yet to be exposed. "What I meant to say is Yang's kinda tearing herself up about all this. Like, it's not good. I've only seen her like this when…" She let this sentence trial off, assumingly realizing that it was going nowhere. "She's gonna come out here soon, just so you know. I kinda called a team meeting and stuff, and I just wanted to make sure that's all right with you."

Yang would be arriving soon. This gave little time to form an appropriate apology or think of some way amend the situation. Ruby did say that Yang was not upset at her, but this was indeed coming from a girl who only saw the best in a situation. But at this time, under the shadow of failure and cowardice, there was no room for optimism. Yang deserved an apology—truthfully, she deserved more. She deserved a better friend, a better teammate, and a better partner, but Blake had promised never to leave and intended on keeping this promise. She wanted to see Yang smile again and cast a warm light as she so often did, but this would take time and required the wound to heal first. Patience was possible, but she worried about the blonde. This promise of unity was a two sided blade, and as it cut Blake, it cut Yang. The young Faunus did not want to leave her partner, but she did not want to burden her, either.

"I'm sorry," was her only answer to Ruby's question.

"I know," the girl said. "It's gonna be all right. Nobody's mad at you, Blake."

Thunder followed yet another flash, this clap quieter than the last, yet still Blake shook. She no longer saw the factory or the protest of her past but instead a new memory fraught with betrayal and incompetence. Was she so deeply entrenched in her own misery that she could act this way and others would accept her for it? Was she really so obviously depraved that her team expected something like this? It appeared so, and although Ruby had assured her that their team was still united, she had been wrong. There were people who begrudged Blake. There were members of the White Fang who remembered her, families of the lost who blamed her entity, and parents she had abandoned for nearly a decade. Moreover, she was afraid of herself and knew that all of this pain could be traced solely to her. The rest of the team might not have been mad at her, but Blake certainly was.

The Faunus shut her eyes, drying her tears against Ruby's given blanket and leaning silently against the supportive figure. She was no substitute for Yang and her inherent warmth, but the young girl did exude a feeling of care that was not dissimilar to her sister's.

In this distracted silence, Blake could not bear to move. Perhaps this was due to the immobilizing fear of never being accepted again or perhaps it was the regular, if reestablished guilt which had always kept her from sleep, but whatever the case, she clung to this fleeting vestige of humanization and hoped that she would not be alone. However and fortunately, her ears would soon rise from their downtrodden state at the sound of approaching footsteps. Immediately, she recognized her partner's gait but found that it came slower than expected—hesitantly even.

The comforting embrace was relinquished as Blake sat up, eyes opening again in reddened fear as she beheld the dizzying sight before her. To describe Yang's movements as a walk would be to place confidence where it was undue. She crept into the room, sliding slowly across the carpet beyond the entryway and hardly moving at all once she reached the kitchen's tile. It was at this point that she simply stared at Blake, a forlorn look in her eye as she nervously held her wound. The two would watch each other carefully, reducing themselves to mere children in this passive show of trepidation. Eventually, however, Yang would speak.

"Blake…" Her tone was penitent, voice low and scared. Her partner, however, had only heard the word and feared what was to follow. Was this castigation? Condemnation? Would Yang give up on her after this heinous act? It would be justified to be sure, Blake being one to understand the future of such betrayal, but she did not want Yang to leave. Fortunately, it was soon proven evident that this would not be the case. Blake found no time to entertain these self-destructive thoughts because she recoiled at the now approaching form of her would-be girlfriend. However, where the Faunus had expected reprisal, she found only warmth, and as Yang moved to wrap her partner in a one-armed hug, she whispered, "Blake, I'm so sorry."

Instinctively, Blake hugged back to the best of her ability, bringing with her the corners of her blanket as she held to Yang's chest. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I…I didn't know what was happening. I didn't—"

"I know, kitten." The one hand Yang had allowed moved to cradle her partner's head, comfortingly holding the Faunus against her warmth and ending the notions of separation. "I know."

Unfortunately, it is not to say that this was the definitive end to Blake's worries. Rather, she saw trouble in the blonde's phrasing with "I know" being the crux of her apprehension. Yang did not accept the apology nor did she dismiss it in her usual, flippant way; she instead regarded it with an apparently practiced reply and avoided the subject altogether while drawing attention to the fact that her wounded arm hung unused at her side. She was holding on to this matter, brooding on it like Blake was, and avoided the apology entirely. She was hurt in more ways than physical, and while she was not outwardly hostile, Blake feared the worst. For this, the matter of diction choice, while inconsequential in most other circumstances, was not to be overlooked. Blake hugged tighter.

It was then that Weiss entered the room, bearing no pretenses of fatigue besides her pajamas and unenthused glower. Blake had only noticed this arrival due to the undeterred volume of her stride and as well the noise Ruby made in sitting up. "Yang," she all but barked, keeping her voice quiet enough to respect the hour but remaining firm with her chastising tone. She said nothing more with this, apparently content with the frowning look she received. Reluctantly, Yang escaped her partner's desperate hold and followed the heiress to the windowside sink, thereby leaving Blake alone.

Weiss placed a few items beside the sink, turned its faucet, and proceeded to focus on the idle girl beside her. "Look," she began, surprisingly more familiar than she usually was, "I know this is painful, but you must clean your wound. I let you see Blake again and gave you time to make up, so now it's time for you to pay your end of the bargain." Yang bowed her head, regretting the impending process but not outwardly refusing it. To this, Weiss sighed. "Clean yourself. It doesn't matter what's going on right now, just think of what will happen if you don't do as I say. You'll scar, and you'll have to live the rest of your life with the knowledge that you could have avoided it by simply taking care of yourself." Still Yang did not move, causing Weiss' expression to harden. "You have until the water runs warm. After that, if I find that you haven't listened to me, then I will have to take matters into my own hands." She gave Yang a final look of warning before leaving her and moving to the island.

She quickly found a seat across from her partner and sighed, her first show of lethargy since waking. Ruby perked at this, neither smiling nor remarking on this tell, and asked, "Power's still out?"

"I'd assume so."

"Well," the young girl seemed hesitant, "then how's Yang supposed to get hot water?"

Weiss raised an eyebrow. The answer seemed obvious to her. "She will get it how she normally does. Just because there's a power outage doesn't mean that the water has stopped."

"Yeah, I know that. But she's only going to get cold water out of there, right? I mean, what about the water heater?"

Weiss paused, realization suddenly dawning on her. "Oh," she said. "Right. I see your point." With another sigh, she turned back to Yang with the probable intent of amending her warnings; however, she stopped short of doing so upon seeing that Yang had already begun. The heiress did not smile, but she did seem content with the situation, and, as such, she turned back to her girlfriend. "She'll be fine. Better to have cold water than none at all."

Ruby nodded with an unconvinced frown. "You're probably right. It's just a pretty bad time for the power to go out."

"Yeah," Weiss quietly agreed.

Nothing more was said on the matter as silence overcame the seated three. The hiss of water and the resultant laps against Yang's arm were the only sounds this team made as rain continued to batter against the roof. Thankfully, the thunder had quieted and amounted now to only faraway grumbles, but the events of the past hour did still linger. Had everyone been accepting of one another and entirely forgiving of what had been done, then they would all be asleep again, playing the ignorant roles they thus far expressed. However, they were awake now and willingly so, and it felt as if another trial faced the Faunus with Weiss acting as prosecutor. But this had been expected one way or another. Everyone wanted answers about what had happened and sought closure to the wound which had opened amongst their team.

The girl in white seemed poised to investigate, posture rigid as per usual and eyes trained warily on her teammate ahead. However, this critical demeanor seemed justified to Blake and, quite frankly, preferable to the inquiries of legitimate courts she could possibly be tried in. Though the young Faunus did not entirely understand everything that had happened, she was ready for whatever Weiss had to say.

"Are you all right?"

This was not the beginning she had expected. It was calm, friendly, and, most surprisingly of all, Weiss' speech lacked hostility. Though Blake was scared and uncertain about this coming talk, she did nod and allowed Weiss her answer.

Unfortunately, this proved inadequate. "Use your words," Weiss said. "We're dealing with a difficult subject right now, and I'd rather you not hide behind nods and shakes. So, I'll ask again. Are you all right?"

No. The answer was no. Everything was a mess and the Faunus hated everything she had become. She did not know what would happen to her partnership or relationship, whether or not she would be able to attend Beacon with this weight on her mind, and she furthermore could not tell what time it was. She closed her eyes and breathed, attempting a now antiquated ritual of her own design. "I'll be fine," she eventually said. "Yang's the one I need to worry about right now."

She was given an appraising look under the low light of their surroundings. However, Weiss did not refute this answer. She instead shook her head and moved closer to the table, consequently influencing Ruby to act similarly. "She is," concurred the heiress. "I trust that Ruby told you of her condition? Of how she'll recover?"

Blake began to nod but stopped and answered, "Yes."

"It's not often that I hear of a hunter or huntress being attacked by their partner. And I hesitate to use the word 'attack' because of its premeditated connotations, but we shouldn't avoid the matter at hand. I can't speak on behalf of Yang—honestly, you and Ruby are the authorities on her—but someone does need to speak, and if you're incapacitated and Ruby is thrown off by her inherent bias, then that leaves me. So, like it or not, you attacked Yang, and I'd like to know why."

"Hey!" Ruby chided, a rare frown comprising her features. "Don't be mean. She said she didn't mean to do it. I wanna know what happened just as much as you do, but we don't have to be jerks about it."

"No, Ruby, it's all right," Blake sighed. Her eyes lowered to focus on the countertop. "I'd like to know why, too, but I just…don't."

"You don't know?" Weiss' question was not as astonished as Blake had expected, but tonight did see a notably different side of her than what was generally typical. "Well, I suppose if you did, you'd be either apologizing profusely or running to your next station." She glanced at Ruby, giving an apologetic frown before turning back. "I don't mean to offend you and I'm certainly not pointing fingers—it's far too soon for that—but I'd like to make sure that this attack wasn't intentional. I hope that this is the case, but you of all people should understand where my doubts are coming from."

"She's not with the White Fang." The three turned to the source of this comment, finding that the running water had slowed to a whispering trickle. Yang moved to face her team, a hurt, angry look focused on Weiss. "Not anymore."

The heiress took a moment to respond, shakenly paused by the glaring challenge. "I don't doubt it," she said slowly, easing away from the protective glower. "But that doesn't rule out the matter of intentionality. Perhaps this wasn't a direct order from the White Fang, but I'd be surprised if it wasn't a result of her conditioning. Perhaps it wasn't that at all and perhaps it was simply an overreaction—we've all had our share." Yang returned to the sink as Weiss hesitantly turned back to the island. "Whatever the case, something happened, and if attacking Yang was in any way deliberate, I'd like to know. I worry that it may happen again."

Blake moved to lean on the counter, arms folded in front of her as she buried her head in the shielding darkness. "I don't know," she tried. Once again, Ruby moved to rub her back, a reassuringly cyclical action which eventually calmed her down enough to resume her speech. "I was having a nightmare, and when I woke up, I found Yang on top of me with my sword in her arm." Though she could not see it, this piqued Weiss' interest. "I didn't know what was happening or why or even where I was, but when I came to, what I saw was…wrong." She peeked out from her shadows. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I'd never do something like that. It's just…something came over me."

"I believe you." Had Blake the confidence, she would have smiled, but in this worried moment she could only nod to this comment. "I wouldn't think that you of all people would consciously attack Yang—you're much too attached to do such a thing. But, then again, I suppose you've always been a bit paranoid."

"Weiss!"

"Ruby, she attacked your sister. No matter what she thought or why it happened, it doesn't change the fact that she tried to kill Yang."

"Yeah, but she didn't mean to!" the young girl argued. "I mean, yeah, I'm upset that it happened, but I don't think Blake's, like, a double agent or anything. She just said that something came over her, so I don't really think she meant to do it. And Yang's tough! It's not like she was actually going to get hurt."

"She wasn't playing with a toy, Ruby. If you swing a sword—"

"Somebody gets hurt. Yeah, I know that. But Blake wasn't trying to hurt her. She was just…scared!" Ruby turned to the Faunus beside her, seeking affirmation or, in the possible case that she was mistaken, forgiveness. However, she was right, and Blake communicated this with a nod. "See? We're a team, Weiss! That means that we stick together no matter what. If Blake says she didn't mean it, then she didn't mean it. And you even said it yourself that you believe her! Yang doesn't think she meant it, you don't think she meant it, and I don't think she meant it. If we all don't think she meant it, then what's the problem?"

"The problem is tendency. We don't know if she is going to do something like this again, but I'd wager that if she did it once, she could do it a second time and perhaps even a third or fourth. You and I are nowhere near as strong as Yang is, so if Blake were to attack us in our sleep, I'm afraid that this flawless 'team' ideal you have will shatter." Ruby frowned, having no response to give. "Not only do I have to worry about my own life and wellbeing, I have to worry about yours now, too. If something were to happen to you because of my negligence, then the blame would be placed solely on me. And being that I'm your partner—and girlfriend for that matter—losing you would be an unrecoverable loss."

It was then that the running faucet was pulled to a sudden stop. The three looked to Yang in varying states of concern, finding her leaning over the sink's bath and growling a castrated whimper low in her throat. Her bandage was wrapped and her arm went uncoddled yet her pain still lingered. Even Weiss, distant and aversive though she was, found herself silenced by the struggle portrayed.

Blake, however, wanted to help. That is, she had wanted to but simply could not. She had, after all, been the one to swing the sword, so this pain, physical or not, was entirely her fault. Yang was the strongest person she had ever known and as well the only person capable of withstanding life-threatening blows to only return with greater fervor, but now she was scared, hurt, breached. Her shield had been broken and her aura ignored, and now this fiery youth who had always been enthusiastic about everything she did was left broken and whimpering. And it was all Blake's fault.

Weiss sighed, assumingly aware of her negativity's effect. "You're right," she admitted. "I am being mean." Though her speech had been directed towards Ruby, Blake knew that it was meant for her instead. However, she could not remove herself from the sight of Yang—she was shuddering and shaking and becoming a dolorous mimicry of her usual self, and Blake simply wanted to hold her. "Blake?" It would take two more calls of this kind before the Faunus responded. She glanced at Weiss, her frown meeting the heiress' own. "I'm sorry," the girl in white said. "My intent was not to offend you, but if I did, I apologize."

"It's…" Blake shook her head. "It's fine."

"No, it's not. You and Yang were the only ones involved in the ordeal, and this is not the time for my self-concerned worries." Though Blake could not see it, Ruby smiled at her partner's words, an encouraging smirk just quiet enough to guide the heiress back on to her intended course of action. "I'd meant to ask you how this all happened, but I digressed. And I'm sorry for that. However, if you wouldn't mind, I would still like to find the root of the matter so that we can pluck it and never have to deal with this situation again."

Once more the Faunus averted her gaze. She was ashamed of the answer, mortified at her own cowardice, and while Weiss had expected a singular issue with an immediate means of recovery, Blake knew only inconsolable pain. "It's…not that simple."

"It rarely is."

"Fine." She acquiesced. If she had been able to tell her parents about the extent of her damages, then Ruby and Weiss could know, too. Veritably, they were now as much a part of her family as her parents were, being that her life was in their hands and would continue to be for the coming few years. "It started with a dream," she began, voice low and tone reverent. "I've held this dream with me no matter where I go or how far away I run. It's…my biggest regret, the reason why I ran."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yang rise, turning to meet her partner's somber gaze with a silent apology. Blake bowed her head and turned back to her teammates. "I joined the White Fang when I was eight. At that time, I was honestly more scared of what could happen to me than what actually was—I saw pain where there wasn't any and pursued it as though it were expected of me. I ran away from home and found refuge with the organization, and I did this all because of a few pages of propaganda. But I was wrong, and I know that now. Sierra's always been a sanctuary for the Faunus—the people there are accepting and it's not too far away from the border—and to go out and involve myself in a war I had no business fighting was foolish. But I did it anyway and spent the next decade leashed by my White Fang masters."

Yang moved away from the sink and now inched towards the island, holding her arm all the while and ensuring that her partner permitted her approach. Blake simply watched her, disgusted at the results of her own actions. She sighed. "That being said, I can't say I'd take those years back if I could. I do regret some of the things I did and there are nights where I can't sleep because of them, but if I didn't subject myself to this past decade, then I wouldn't be where I am now." It was nearly invisible, but Yang's approach hastened.

"So, what was your dream about?" Ruby asked. "Like, was it about home or something?"

The Faunus shook her head.

"It was about your departure, wasn't it?" Now it was the heiress' turn to guess. "The moment when you realized you could move on with your life and become a normal member of society?"

Yang stepped forward, brushing against her partner's shoulder before nervously pulling away. She shook her head, answering the question alongside the Faunus. "It's about that thing you talked about, right? That time when you…you know, messed up?" She was scared of admitting it. Truthfully, she was likely scared of Blake, but she had nevertheless been right.

This received a nod. Yang frowned.

"I'll try to spare you the details," Blake told her unaware teammates. "That way, you'll be at less of a risk if burned bridges rebuild themselves." Before Yang, she had feared the possibility of her dissociation coming to a sudden, violent end. And although the blonde had kept her from thinking such things for a long time now, the fact remained that Blake was still a liability to someone in the organization. "I was never a soldier for the White Fang. I was never a protester or speaker like I'd wanted to be and I never did grunt work. I wrote propaganda, gathered intelligence, spied on whomever I was told to, and…I even stole what I was ordered to. But I was never a soldier. I was trained to be a leader—the leader."

Out of everyone else, Ruby seemed the most surprised. Perhaps this was due to the revelation of similar titles—it was likely that the young girl saw her teammate now as a potential learning experience. Unfortunately, Blake had never been the model of leadership ability and therefore had nothing to offer in the way of advice. Weiss' expression, however, was unreadable; though, it was probable that she was unenthused by the attempted rank. She would undoubtedly be able to recognize Blake's subtext and likely realized how close they had come to being life-long enemies of each other. Of course, these two looks were entirely understandable.

Yang's, however, was painful. In Blake's eyes, she was torn between disappointment and sympathy, hesitant to stay yet obliged to care. Blake had hurt her because of this leadership training, and all she wanted to do now was retreat into her partner's arms, but a dark patch had begun to spread across her bandage and made this wish impossible. The blonde could not bring herself to meet her girlfriend's eyes, let alone touch her shoulder for the briefest of moments. Confident, bold Yang Xiao Long had been reduced to a timid child, and it was all Blake's fault.

The blonde now stood at the end of the island nearest her partner and Weiss, avoiding their gazes altogether as she spoke. "You were talking in your sleep." The Faunus' brows knitted in confusion. "You were mumbling about something and trying to get away from me."

"I…" She was? Was the damage truly that noticeable?

"Yeah," Yang sighed. "You were…saying you couldn't breathe." Immediately, Blake recognized the connection. "Truth be told, it might have been the scariest thing I've ever seen. You just kept saying it and trying to get away, and I didn't know if you were actually having a hard time breathing or if I was—"

Fortunately, Yang's self-indulgent rationalizations were cut off as Weiss raised an eyebrow and hummed. "If that's not a window into your psyche, I don't know what is." The sisters turned to her. Ruby seemed confused while Yang was struck willfully silent. "It takes a special kind of distress to make a person talk in their sleep, and I can only imagine what must have happened to make you of all people act this way."

Distress—that was the word. It could make the most stoic of expressions falter and the most resilient of shields crumble absolutely. Compounded over years, months, days, it could spur a reaction—a dream, a question, a fight—and this reaction would, itself, echo through the delicate silence of one's doubtful monologue. It was painful to feel and more so to observe, but only by the historical interruptions of Yang had the chained distress been halted. Blake was grateful for this rescue, but concurrently she understood that the breakage of routine could too end negatively. The monologue had manifested into something raw, something abstract, and this abstractness had found the Faunus in her weakest state. She had bowed to the storm and knelt to the thunder, and when her unconscious servitude was halted by the warmth of her partner, she had attacked.

However, Ruby had been wrong. This truly was who Blake believed herself to be—the attack had not been a defensive instinct against the ghosts of failure but instead her own fear of the White Fang being wrong. Her loyalty had once been with the organization and still the deepest facets of her unconscious mind reflected this fealty. She had been conditioned to think a certain way about humanity, and because of this, she had projected an image of her partner being knelt before a prejudiced trial.

"I watched Yang die."

Their reactions had been as expected. "What?" Ruby yelped, her dismissive confidence vanishing instantly. Weiss simply inhaled as her assumptions were proven correct. However, neither of these effects meant much to the Faunus.

Yang hesitated. Although she had hardly been moving in the first place, her expression of fear now worsened to the point of staggering epiphany. She looked to her partner, eyes begging for the statement to be false, but Blake could only look back and beg for forgiveness. They still cared for each other and Blake knew this now, but to be told of one's own demise and to see the resulting effects—especially when the perspective was that of protective warmth—was simply unthinkable. Her movements were reluctant yet necessary, frightened but wanted, and as she drifted towards her partner's form, Blake moved similarly. But as the Faunus perked and melted into the coming hug that would wash away all her stresses and insecurities, Yang left.

She moved in a hurry, eschewing her awkward attempt and leaving the Faunus cold as she exited the kitchen and disappeared into the darkness beyond.

A pit formed in Blake's stomach. She wanted to cry at this separation and to reach out to her retreating partner, but between questions of reason and introspection on character, she found only breath-hitching emptiness. Her eyes trained on where Yang had gone, trying to part the shadows of the living room and see where the girl went, but even her innate abilities, both semblance and vision, could not pierce the veil of inexistence. She had attacked her and now Yang was gone.

A graveled sigh was released from across the table. Though Blake could not remove her gaze from the sight of abandonment, Ruby watched as Weiss stood and sent her chair back with a noisy skitter. The heiress grumbled something incomprehensible while Ruby tried to stop her, but just as quickly as the chair had been pushed away, Weiss entered the Faunus' vision and followed after Yang. "Weiss!" the young girl called, shaking her remaining teammate from her woebegone stupor. "Weiss, just let her go! She'll be fine!" But Yang was not fine—she was hurt in more ways than one and likely saw her partner as the mangy stray she truly was.

"Yang!" the heiress barked, voice unfortunately distinct from as far away as the hall. "Where do you think you're going?" Blake could hear every word, every step, every attempt at a doorknob, and every slap on the wrist. "What are you doing? Yang, what are you—Hey! Look at me!"

Ruby moved to stand, obviously uncomfortable with the way her partner and sister were acting, but with a single glance at Blake, she stopped. The young Faunus was a mere thought away from pulling her hair out again and now shivered in the cold of her blanket, replaying the final moments of her dream in an endless loop. For this, the young girl could not move. Her unstated creed of help without question was now tried by greyness and halted by adherence. Weiss was accosting her sister but Blake was silently afraid, and while there was the probability of conflict arising from the upcoming squabble, Blake was alone and both girls knew this. Blake watched as Ruby resigned to her position, quieting her teammate's shivers as she hugged her again.

A quiet thud resonated through the house. "What do you think you're doing?" Weiss asked again. Ruby's presence was thankfully able to muffle most of the unwanted sounds, but from what Blake could hear, the heiress did not seem hostile. She was, perhaps, exasperated at the taller girl's actions and disbelieving of this change in character, but by no means was she malevolent. "I said, what do you think you're doing?"

A short, wordless mumble was all her reply.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself? You just walked out on your team during a time of crisis. I think that warrants some kind of apology."

Yang's voice was quiet, defeated, yet still Blake could hear her between walls and distance and thankful distraction. "I…just needed to give her some space."

"That's your excuse for leaving? You needed to give Blake space?" The heiress scoffed. "In case you couldn't tell, there's a situation going on right now that requires your specific attention. Your partner is in pain and you've been attacked, yet we don't know why. If that doesn't necessitate some amount of taken responsibility, then I frankly don't know what to say." The two in the kitchen and the third in the hall waited on the fourth to speak up. Unfortunately, Yang would not. "Nothing?" prodded Weiss. "You have nothing at all to say? Brilliant. Just amazing. You're a coward, you know that? You've never taken responsibility when a situation gets out of hand. Instead, you choose to run away. It's a wonder how Ruby's still able to function with a role model as spineless as you."

"Watch it." It was a wan attempt at aggression. For every aggressive step forward, Yang's voice took two more back to avoid total collapse. "I took care of her—I took responsibility for her—"

"Yes, you did. But are you now? Are you taking care of your sister now? What about your partner? What about your home? Does anything mean anything to you?"

"I…"

"Yes, 'I.' That's all you ever think about, isn't it? You don't care that Blake is traumatized, you don't care that Ruby's awake at four in the morning, but you certainly care about yourself, don't you?" Weiss was wrong, Blake thought. She could not be further from the truth, yet still she argued. "Just because you suffered a minor flesh wound doesn't mean you can act like a child. You can't throw a fit because things aren't going your way and you can't run off whenever the situation becomes the slightest bit difficult. That's what Blake does. But do you see her here? Do you see her running away from you?" Weiss waited. "Answer."

"No," the blonde mumbled.

"Exactly. She and your sister are sitting out there, trying to come to terms with what happened while you're in here, shutting yourself away. Whether you like it or not, they look up to you, and when people look up to you, you don't get to enjoy the luxury of taking breaks."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I don't? Of course not. How could I? No, I'm just a spoiled brat who spends her days resting on her old-money laurels because 'Daddy' can take care of everything." As sarcastic as she was, Weiss was beginning to make sense to the Faunus. Blake would, of course, side with Yang regardless of intent, but the heiress' point was now revealing itself. Belligerence was not her purpose in arguing but instead the excessive slap on the wrist she had been known for. "No, I do know what I'm talking about. I make no illusions about being a good person, let alone a decent one, but if there's one thing that I understand with all my being, it's loyalty.

"Ruby is your sister and you owe her more than you could ever repay. You owe her the reassurance that this cut on your arm is nothing and you owe her the promise that you're still strong. She looks up to you more than anyone else, but if you think this influence is somehow going to slip because you let your guard down one time, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought you were. You're only hurting your relationships by running away. By running away, you're giving Ruby the chance to think that you don't care about her and that you really are weak. By being here, you're only proving that you're the same child I've always thought you were and not the superhero-deity she still thinks you are.

"And Blake? You just abandoned your partner. First offense or not, that's grounds for expulsion. And in addition to that, you have her worried sick out there, wondering whether you'll come back or not. Now, I don't know about you, but giving someone you actually care for the cold shoulder is in astonishingly poor taste."

"Shut up," Yang grumbled. "Shut up." A faint rise in temperature flooded the house for the briefest of moments, alerting the two in the kitchen to the burgeoning frustration. "I don't want to hear it! You think just because you're calm about the whole thing means you get to tell me what to do? I know it's my fault and I know it's wrong to run away, but do you honestly think that me being out there is better than leaving them alone? I caused all of that—all of that pain—and if I stick around, who knows what else I'll do?

"I'm a liability, Weiss, and whenever I get emotional, I can't control myself. If I get mad, Blake gets burned. If I get sad, Ruby has to spend an hour dealing with me. And whenever I get scared, I only mess things up." Another wave of heat suffused the house, making the blanket stifling and Ruby's hug weaken. However, both would remain resolute. "You wanna know why Blake attacked me? Because she was scared. She was scared because I was scared, and when I'm scared, I mess things up. I shook her awake and tried shouting things at her, and you know what happened? All that White Fang trauma just blew up in my face." Suddenly, the heat vanished and the same cold from before spread across the house. Rain became the predominant noise again and Yang had returned to a whisper, trying no longer to fight the heiress but instead herself. "She attacked me because I wasn't strong enough to break through. If I get expelled for this, I'd probably deserve it. If I can't save her from a nightmare, then what kind of partner am I?"

Blake's first thought in regard to this admission was admittedly something of a relief, being that Yang was blaming herself rather than her partner, but after a moment, the gravity of this revelation took hold and the Faunus realized what had been said. Yang had doubted herself before. She thought that she was not smart enough for her partner, strong enough for her sister, and she seemed to believe that her abandonment by multiple figures in her life had been of her own doing. She did not see Blake as an assailant skilled in the art of betrayal but instead she saw herself as a weak shield-bearer who deserved the wounds of her incompetence. This was not true, but it was what she believed, and despite her partner's promise to never leave, Yang was still scared.

"Oh, quit it with the melodramatics." It seemed as though Weiss was not as lenient towards the blonde. "You're still not listening to me. This isn't about you anymore. You already had your chance to feel sad, but then you walked out on Ruby and Blake. You hurt them. Don't you see how selfish that is? Don't you realize that your actions have consequences?"

Yang was silent.

"You have to take responsibility for what you've done. I'm not blaming anyone for anything, but you must realize that because you walked out on Blake, you've caused an even greater upset. You two have become disgustingly inseparable, and though it's not my place to judge how you go about your relationship, you can't deny that you've become dependent on each other. And if you are saying that you're willing to be expelled because of your own 'failure,' then you're saying that you'll let Blake fail, too."

If Blake knew Yang correctly, it was likely that they held similar expressions. Weiss was right and this had been a long-denied truth. Though Blake had lost her edge to defend her guiding morals, her personal strength had since grown hundredfold beside her partner's warmth. For either to retreat from their symbiotic bond would be to deprive them of confidence and calm, leaving them torn in a way neither memories nor reactionary cuts could ever hope to mimic. Perhaps it was excessive to think so, but she and Yang were bound to each other out of necessity so to supplement their shortfalls and eliminate their anxieties. She did not blame Yang for running—she would have done it, herself—but now that this empty feeling had been defined and an understanding gleaned as to why she clung to Ruby, Blake felt oddly at ease—worried, of course, about Yang's cut and the implications thereof, but calm nevertheless.

"She's afraid, Yang; as are you. I can't help you and Ruby can't help her. You two are the only ones who can help each other, but the only way you can do that is by taking responsibility when the situation turns dour." Weiss sighed, losing her hostile tone. "Look, I don't enjoy seeing you like this—I'm just going to be honest. We're not the best of friends and I doubt we ever will be, but seeing you moping about and running from your problems is uncharacteristic. I owe you for letting me date Ruby, I will admit you that, but this goes beyond recompense. We're a team, and we all have to pull our weight if we want to succeed as such."

Weiss paused, volume shifting somewhat as though she had turned directions. "Shape up," she evenly said. "You have a role to fill, and you won't be able to play it if you can't pull yourself together. Go see Blake. Apologize. Attend to Ruby. Do what you can to rectify the situation, and I'll be with you shortly."

There was a pause. "Go," she insisted. "I'm not mad at you—not yet, at any rate."

A few moments of palpable hesitation loomed over Team RWBY, threatening conflict if Weiss' words proved unsuccessful, but this shadow would thankfully pass as Yang accepted with a conceding sigh. "Okay," she quietly relented before shuffling away.

In a matter of seconds, she reentered the Faunus' vision and was immediately met with a tentative smile. She was still shaken, clutching at her arm for more emotional stability than physical, but her own uncertain smirk would nevertheless grow to match her partner's. Though it was incomparable to the grins of her past, Blake was happy to see even this glimpse of Yang again. Once more the Faunus disengaged from her leader and hugged the approaching blonde. She was warm again and sorry, and as they muttered their I-love-yous and held one another close, Blake knew that everything would be all right. There was still yet pain to endure, but everything would be all right in the end.

The two would soon release each other and move to their seats. Yang sat across from her partner, eyes trained on her wary amber and hands held firmly as though the act of relinquishing them would set the couple on a path apart. This was a separate side of Yang which Blake had never seen. Her movements were hasty, her convictions seemed fragile, and she lacked the easy confidence which had characterized her so. But she had returned and was now recovering, so Blake could not complain. No matter what had happened between them, they would work it out.

Weiss returned soon after. Similar to before, she was carrying a few items with her as she entered, but Blake could not tell what they were this time—her gaze, after all, was meant for Yang alone and therefore amounted to a mere glance at her assisting friend. But as the heiress set her belongings beside the young girl, the Faunus could not help but watch.

The action was not meant to interrupt Blake or Yang's affections but instead to allow for her own. At first, Ruby seemed mildly shocked as Weiss' arms coiled around her neck and pulled her back into a hug. However, in the uncertain few moments after the heiress simply nestled her head in Ruby's hair, the young girl realized what was going on. With a cheery smile, she moved to hold her partner's forearms, nuzzling upwards and giggling quietly at the unexpected turn of events. Weiss had changed since this summer began. She was still cold and authoritarian, but now she limited her outbursts to those who required them. She acted friendlier towards Blake, kinder towards Yang, and generally happier when around Ruby. Judging by the brief, almost genuine smirk Yang sent to her partner, Blake knew that they were both happy for the newer couple.

The mood had lifted significantly in the wake of these most pressing matters, and even as Weiss pulled away from her once again chipper leader, the mood stayed aloft. "Light this, will you?" she asked, placing a jarred candle and lighter before the young girl. She then turned to Blake and Yang, arms still wrapped around her partner. "We have a bit of discussion left to go, answers to glean and such, but before we resume, I'm going to make coffee and tea. Blake, you don't have any choice in the matter; you need to relax. Yang, do you have any preference?"

"Um…" Were the moment unburdened by dreams and outbursts, Blake would expect some jabbing quip about Weiss' offered service, but because the moment was anything but regular, she could only answer, "I'll have coffee."

Weiss nodded. "Ruby?"

The young girl paused in her attempts at working the lighter to give a considered look. "I think…I think I'll try some tea. What kind is it?"

"A special blend." Weiss turned to Blake. "It will help you get back to sleep."

"Yeah, I'll try some then. Thanks, Weiss!"

The hug shared between the younger partnership tightened for the briefest of moments before Weiss departed entirely, leaving Ruby to her candle while moving to prepare their drinks. As she passed, however, Weiss gave the Faunus a glancing smile which Blake returned as best she could. Regardless of politics or disparities in inheritance, they were friends and Weiss did understand loyalty.

With an eventual click and snap, a spark escaped the young girl's lighter and found the candle's wick. A flame emerged and burgeoned into a tiny fire which cast both a warm glow across the surrounding three and a shadow on their previous doubts. Yang squeezed her partner's hands tighter, a warmth of her own flowing through their embrace to ensure the Faunus' safety. Blake squeezed back and Ruby smiled at her accomplishment and Weiss moved to put a kettle on, and all the while Team RWBY found peace amongst each other despite this onerous hour.

Coffee became the heiress' next priority as her teammates gathered around the fire. There had been a moment of reflection when Blake had wanted to question this sudden enterprise and assistance, but before she could discredit her teammate's kindness, its effects became evident. A faintly noticeable scent wafted through the air, and as the familiar fragrance grew with the Faunus' awareness, she realized that it came from the candle. It was chamomile and relaxing. Or perhaps it was lavender and therefore smelled of home. Or it could have been both and an intentional joke at Blake and Yang's expense. Whatever the case, it was immediately calming and thankfully distracting. Yang seemed to enjoy it, too, and her gradually softening smile expressed this clearly. Ruby still grinned as she did before, but now that Blake had a more substantial source of light to utilize, she could see that the young girl was also shivering in the cold of the room. This simply would not do.

Blake did not do what she did for Yang's sake or to thank Weiss for bringing the blonde back, but instead the Faunus wanted to thank the young girl directly. She pulled one hand away from her partner and moved to open the covering on her shoulders, inviting Ruby to share the blanket in a previously uncharacteristic show of trust. And though the young leader seemed initially confused by the gesture's meaning, she would eventually accept, pulling her chair closer to Blake's and pressing up against her teammate's side. This received a grateful smile from Yang as the Faunus' arm wrapped around Ruby to shield her appropriately.

Soon enough, Weiss would return with the four cups promised and quickly distributed them with practiced ease. She sat beside Yang as they all cradled their drinks, removing their grips from one another and simply relaxing against the reprieve they were given. Yang watched the heiress warily for a moment but quickly chose to relent upon seeing that she, too, shook from the cold. A wave of heat radiated from the blonde as she sipped at her coffee, and one wave would become two and two would become a constant stream of warmth that livened the kitchen considerably.

"Thank you," the heiress offered quietly.

"Don't mention it." In most cases, this could be construed as a normal response Yang could give, but because of her lingering doubts and the most recent conflict the two had engaged in, this was as much a plea as it was a reassurance.

Ruby tried to sip at her tea but only winced when the scalding liquid touched her lips. Nevertheless, she tried again and again and received the same result each time. This enthusiasm only made Blake aware of her own cup, and upon her observance of the earthy brew, she found that her entire team had calmed substantially. Weiss no longer glared at the blonde, Ruby no longer shivered, and Yang no longer seemed hesitant about being around her partner. Her arm was still bandaged and these bandages would soon need to be changed, but she seemed happier now that that conflict had ended—happier, but not entirely happy.

With a small, resounding clink, Weiss set her cup down, glancing at the Faunus. "Now," she began again, "where were we?"

Some part of Blake had wanted to sigh. However, she knew that it was just as much her responsibility to inform her teammates of her past atrocities as it was Yang's to take care of her friends. Weiss did not smile nor did she show signs of excitement for the conversation to come, yet she guided the discussion regardless for the sake of their team's integrity. "We can skip the dream and the events preceding the attack, but we must address the cause of it all so that we don't find ourselves lost if another outburst takes place." Blake agreed.

"You joined the White Fang when you were eight, correct? How long after did it take for you to realize that they were wrong?"

"They weren't wrong—"

"Perhaps not; perhaps they were as misguided as you say. But the fact of the matter is that they are wrong now and there was a point between now and when you were eight when you realized this."

Blake sighed, finding momentary refuge in the warmth of her tea. The question posed was reasonable enough. After all, she had asked herself similar things when considering her departure. However, there was no particular moment which pointed to an aggregate shift in morality—no, it was a gradual decline into villainy rather than a sudden shift as many seemed to forget. But this was not what Weiss was asking. Instead, she wondered when Blake finally understood that her beloved organization was more deplorable than the oppressors she fought—she wondered when Blake realized the White Fang had become the source of dissent rather than fighters against it. This was an easier question to find an answer for.

Again, the Faunus sighed. "I think it was five years after—I was thirteen at the time. Truthfully, I was a few days away from fourteen, but that still makes it five years ago." She measured her breaths and took another sip and decided that if not the dream, her team deserved to know about its source material. "I told you how I was trained to be some sort of a leader? Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. I was a leader for a short time and commanded a platoon of White Fang militants—thirty of them, myself included. I don't know why they started me off so early or what potential they saw in me, but somehow I proved that I was capable enough to become the youngest lieutenant in White Fang history."

"Wow," Ruby gasped. "Thirty people when you were only thirteen? I still have trouble with four!"

It was simply a joke, and though Yang and Weiss gave appeasing smirks, Blake could not. "Ruby, it's nothing to be proud of. You were given a leadership role because you deserve it and because you are competent at it. But I was neither. I was…not cut out to take responsibility for another person's life, let alone twenty-nine."

The young girl could only reply with an accepting "Oh" before returning to her cup. Blake continued. "We'd been garrisoning a factory in a town at the foot of the Madrigal Hills. Our goal was to take it over while instating White Fang leadership and ideals in the area. That being said, the town itself wasn't too important; it didn't give the White Fang any advantage except strategic. We were there to protest for better working conditions, equal opportunities for Faunus workers, and every other lie we were fed. But realistically, we were trying to gain a foothold in as many border towns as we could to ensure an operational advantage when descending upon Vale proper—no one was supposed to get in, no one was supposed to get out.

"And it worked for the most part. Word never got to Vale, we never faced an insurrection, and the tribes beyond the hills had no stake in our war. That's really what it was: war. We tried to be covert about it and not make too much of a scene, but…" she looked to Weiss, "the most enthusiastic among us couldn't handle the silence."

"It's fine," the heiress assured. "My family's losses have only occurred in Atlas. I'm sure you had no hand in what happened while you were here in Vale."

She had meant casualties. No member of the Schnee family had ever been killed or injured outside of Atlesian soil. Furthermore, none whatsoever had been plotted against since the construction of their veritable citadel on Kaiser Island. But by no means was Weiss correct in assuming Blake had never played a part in her family's loss. "Yeah," the Faunus sighed, turning the subject back to her past. "But I'm not innocent, either. Not whatsoever.

"During the first couple days, we didn't encounter much resistance at all. It was a weekend when we first occupied the factory, so no one was expected to be there until the Monday after. But when that Monday came, we began to dread the 'small town' misnomer." Yang watched her critically, apparently ready to pounce at any sign of weakness. As stressful as the story being told was, Blake found herself wanting to smile at Yang's presence and returned care. She did not prove able to after all, but the feeling did exist. "I never really appreciated how large a number 10,000 is until I found about half that many knocking on the factory's gates. It was strange. At first there was a crowd of twenty or so that came, and they were simply curious as to why they couldn't enter their place of employment. But after one of my sergeants told them why they couldn't work, half of the town descended on us. They were swarming—we had to bar the gates, put up barricades, and arm ourselves until our speaker arrived."

This was met with a raised brow from the heiress. Blake explained, "My goal in taking the factory was not to invade the town. The White Fang hasn't operated like that until only recently. My goal was to hold the factory and stage a false strike against the corporation that ran it, winning the workers over and holding our position until a White Fang speaker could arrive. He was supposed to finalize the conversion of the townspeople to the Faunus Rights cause and would, ideally, serve as the town's temporary governor while the other border towns were being seized. At that time, we still wanted to win over the hearts of the opposition and turn them against each other, and while I know it's reprehensible, it seemed justified at the time."

"But you didn't account for human error," Weiss conjectured.

Blake shook her head. "It wasn't just human error. Faunus aren't exempt from failure, either, and I think me being in charge proved that fairly well." The heiress sipped her coffee with an amused smirk as she bade the Faunus to continue.

"I don't know if there were actually 5,000 people at the factory's gates, but there were a lot and they appeared faster than I'd believed they could. I gave the orders I was told to give: I sent one squad to pacify the people at the gates and also watch for anyone who tried to jump the fence, I sent another to back them up and prepare for the speaker's arrival, and I held the third back in reserve just in case anyone got through. At the time, I thought it was a sound tactic, but, as you said, I didn't account for human error.

"It was raining and it was cold and there was even a storm that loomed over the factory, but none of us could stop our operation. I guess the rain made everyone angrier because the more my soldiers tried to talk to the townspeople, the more frustrated both sides became. It eventually came to the point of rifles being brandished and the gates being rattled, but by then, I just couldn't control the situation anymore. There were 5,000 angry townspeople just trying to get into their factory, and we were inciting them by waving around guns which were not supposed to be there in the first place.

"I was never told about our given arms—I was given a pistol for the first time and they told me to only use it if the situation went awry, but I didn't expect everyone else to be as armed as they were. As soon as the gates started to shake and the rain began to fall, it stopped being a protest. It was suddenly a standoff that would go on for as long as it needed to, and we were to hold out until the speaker arrived."

"But wait. How didn't you know they had guns? Weren't you in charge of them?" asked Ruby. "I mean, I get that you were nervous and stuff, but how'd you miss something like that?"

"I didn't know them—I didn't know any of them. Honestly, I didn't even know I'd be stationed in southern Vale the day before I left." The Faunus sighed. "The White Fang depends on a cell-type structure and a purposefully obscuring chain of command. We weren't an army and we didn't have the resources to be caught, so the information we were given had to be limited to what was required for the mission. Squads would have months to get to know each other, but beyond the rank of sergeant, members start to become less and less familiar with one another and more modular in how they operate. Squads knew their immediate lieutenant but couldn't point out who ranked higher than them or who another lieutenant was. Lieutenants knew their captains and captains knew their majors and so on and so forth.

"Unfortunately, it's a system dependent upon trust, and when you're a thirteen-year-old girl in command of twenty-something-year-old extremist zealots, trust is hard to come by." Ruby moved to argue this point, likely attempting to convince Blake that she was worthy of trust, but she was preemptively cut off. "I was always the 'Chosen One,' the prodigy, the favorite student of one of the White Fang's senior leaders. No one I commanded trusted me because I was always placed on a pedestal and because I had no real-world experience. Before the factory, I generally worked alone, but then I was suddenly thrown into a leadership position with people under my command who I didn't know. I couldn't tell if they were armed because that wasn't important to my mission and, regardless, they wouldn't have trusted me enough to give me that information. All I was told to do was keep the area secured."

"But you didn't, did you?" asked Weiss. "We wouldn't be having this conversation if it was a glory days story."

Blake shook her head. "I let them down," she sighed, voice dipping into wistful remorse. "I couldn't get a grip on the situation, and by the time the speaker arrived…everything sort of just fell apart."

She wanted to tell them, they deserved to know. But how does one verbalize her greatest fears? How would one persuade another that her experience matters despite the absurdity of it all? How could one interweave a series of traumatizing stimuli which happened simultaneously into a single, cogitable, meaningful statement of "I failed?" There is no answer to these because one cannot fully express the scope of their personal conditioning in one pithy sentence. Blake knew that for her story to be understood, she needed to be trusted. There required an empathic bond between herself and her audience to substitute the unspoken hardships which had drained her so. To any other, her story might seem complaining, whining, and melodramatic when, in truth, she defended the actions of her captors. She required trust and understanding for her story to be told, and from a single glance at her teammates, she knew that both had been achieved.

Weiss waited on her, patient enough to excuse the hesitations of the Faunus-turned-ally as she continued to stare evenly at the evidence she was presented. Ruby remained at her teammate's side, thankfully warm and supportive while sharing this fortunate blanket and continuously communicating that Blake was not alone. And finally, Yang watched her partner with apologetic concern. Her lilac eyes shone sadly in the dim light and prayed desperately to whatever god would listen that that their previous happiness might yet be found again. All three were here for Blake and wanted to see her safe. She had once believed that this was impossible and egotistic to think, but now it was the inexorable truth. They deserved to know, thus they would.

"It began with the storm. We were preoccupied with the movements on the ground and didn't notice that the rain had picked up. I was too shocked by the speaker's sudden arrival and our failure at pacifying the crowd to notice that the clouds above had started to darken and crackle. But I couldn't get a word out—everyone was working independently of me and didn't need an order, but I still should have given one anyway and told them…something. I don't know what, but something needed to be said, something unifying or something calming or anything at all. But I couldn't. The storm caught us all off guard.

"Before we knew what had happened, I was brought to my knees. Something loud had gone off and nearly deafened everyone there who had enhanced hearing. I couldn't hear anything at all, not even the loud ringing I'd expected when the noise first sounded, but when I opened my eyes, I could see that everything—just…everything—had gone wrong."

"Thunder," Yang guessed.

Blake nodded. "Lightning must have struck while we were unaware, because when I was able to look back up to the factory, it was engulfed in flames. I don't know how or why the fire spread as quickly as it did, but between the moment I fell and the moment I came to, the building had become an inferno. The windows had been blown out, the floors inside had fallen in, and when I looked at the people of the town, all they could do was balk. Everyone around me was either writhing on the parking lot's pavement or scared because their friends had fallen. But then there was another noise which caught my attention. I don't know how I was able to hear it, but I did, and when I looked back to the factory, its roof was caving in.

"That was all it took for the people beyond the gates. Without the White Fang there to keep the barricades up…" There were so many. Thirty hardly carries a flame to thousands. And one amongst the masses was one who would never escape. Blake tried to take a sip of her tea but found her hand caught by Yang's. The blonde gave a quiet nod and squeezed this hand, giving her partner the strength she needed to continue. Blake closed her eyes, calming her mind and baring her story to the cold night. "We were overrun. All those people, every single one of them, rushed the factory and tried to scare us off. But those of us who still stood fired into the crowd, killing a few but only shifting their aggression to retaliation.

"They mobbed the people under my command. They attacked us. They killed the people I was responsible for. All twenty-nine members of my platoon and even the speaker I was supposed to protect were either killed or injured in the stampede, and it was all my fault." Her breathing had hastened in her panic as she clutched at Yang's hand for support. "I can still see their faces, the Faunus, the humans, and I could almost hear their cries as I ran away from them." Yang's hand squeezed back. "I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing, but I just ran. I saw the crowd and I knew that if I stayed behind, I'd only be killed. I'd been taught to fight and stand up for whatever I believed in, but I just ran like a coward. I left them all behind and ran into the mountains. I stumbled, I fell, but I just kept running until I couldn't run anymore.

"That's my greatest regret. It wasn't joining the White Fang, it wasn't leaving them; it was failing them. It was failing all those people who were my responsibility and it was failing all of their families by taking away their sons and daughters." Blake would not cry. She struggled with the quaver in her voice and the images of Lilian and Cole in her mind—she saw the vision of Yang sitting above her, sword lodged perilously in her arm, but Blake would not cry. "I failed them because I wasn't brave enough. I failed them because I'm a coward."

Instantly, she was silenced by a fervent squeeze to her hand. Blake instinctively sought her partner's smile, and upon seeing this show of unconditional forgiveness, she fell silent.

"You're not," Yang assured, her warmth traveling up her partner's arm and through the rest of her shaking form. "You're not a coward. You do all sorts of brave stuff, Blake, and there isn't anyone I feel safer around than you." Bloodshot gold met smiling lilac as a tacit promise was made. "It's all right to feel scared sometimes. That's just part of being alive. And if you have to carry that stuff around with you all the time, then that's just what you have to do. But don't think it makes you a coward. I'm the one who ran away from you, remember?"

Blake wanted to deny this—she wanted to claim Yang infallible and highlight her own wrongdoings—but before she could, a head perked up from beside her and sent a cheerful grin. "Yeah, Blake, you're not a coward! You're, like, the coolest person I know! You never have to study for tests and you always stand up to bullies like Cardin. I mean, how many times have you fought Torchwick by yourself? Like, ten?" Blake could see Yang's influence in the young girl's features, and in seeing this honesty, the Faunus was able to calm considerably. "You can do anything you want, Blake, and I've never seen you fail at something after you've set your mind to it. Besides, you're way too cool to be a scaredy-cat!"

"She's right, you know?" Weiss offered. "You might have been a coward at one point in your life, but I know cowards and you're not one of them now. You've proven yourself competent and you've been an invaluable asset to our team, but dismissing everything you've done and all the confidence you've shown is simply nonsense. Learn from your mistakes but don't wallow in them. If you keep claiming yourself a coward rather than actually doing something meaningful, then you will only become a coward."

"You're not a coward, kitten. You're the strongest girl I know. You're a fighter, and that's what you'll always be. You know what's right and what's wrong, when to stand down and when to attack. You've got a great head on your shoulders, but lying to yourself like this is only going to make it tougher to make the right calls when they count." Yang squeezed her partner's hand, eliminating her remaining worries and causing a grateful smile that the blonde similarly held. "It's okay, Blake. You don't have to beat yourself up over all this. We'll always have your back, no matter what."

Yang was smiling again. Of course, it was still an uncharacteristically shy rendition of her regular assurance, but it was a smile nevertheless. It broke through the shadows of the Faunus' fears and supplied confidence where there was naught. Blake was all right—they were both all right—and she would continue to be all right for the foreseeable future. Perhaps she was not as cowardly as once feared and perhaps her reaction to the mob all those years ago had been justified, yet still there was trauma and nightmares surrounding it. But Yang would keep her safe; Blake knew this for a fact. The young Faunus smiled back, trying not to be tearful and failing in this regard, but the expressions she was met with—the strength of her team collective—made this failure all right.

"Yup!" Ruby chirped. "We're like a family, all of us. I mean, not like a real family or anything but like a friend family." This initially drew a bewildered look from her cold partner, but she ignored this for Yang's concurring nod. "We don't have to be related and stuff to take care of each other, and hey, if we're gonna be spending the next few years together, we might as well like it!" She moved to hug Blake, pulling herself closer to the Faunus beneath their blanket and grinning widely at Weiss. "We got your back, Blake! If you're in trouble, Team RWBY'll come to the rescue!"

It would take a few long moments for Weiss to come around, but when she eventually dropped the scrutinizing glare she sent the young leader, she sighed. "Fine. Family it is. Of course, you know that my loyalty will always be with Atlas and my actual family first, but you have been something of a sister to me—or at least as close as I'll ever come to having one. I'm not going to say I like every one of you during every second of the day, but, Blake, you've earned my respect and I intend on repaying the debts I owe."

Yang simply smiled. She and Blake had already discussed this matter, and despite this, the Faunus could not quite compose herself. She felt unjustly lucky to have found a home like this. To progress from a mere favored stray to a desired friend and surrogate family member was unbelievable—this was the equality she had been fighting for. Ruby was excessively generous with her compliments, Weiss had been the stolid voice of logic during this time of irrationality, and Yang…Yang had always been there. Even when the blonde had run, she carried with her the Faunus' emotions, causing them both to fall when one fell and rise when the other smiled. They were inseparable, and Blake knew this now. "Thank you," she whispered to anyone who would listen.

Rain continued to patter against the house with a steady thrum. The storm was gone for now and had left the four to their own devices. Caffeine aside, they would all grow weary of this impromptu hour and fall victim to the silence they together purveyed. Ruby would be the first to succumb and retire, consequently making Weiss the second as the young girl dragged her partner back to their bedroom, assuring that dishes could be done later. This left the older duo awake and at each other's eyes, reassured in the company they held. Blake had attacked Yang, and it was regrettable, but everything would be all right. They had a family to take care of them and a partnership to keep them happy.

---

Her room was unnervingly silent. She had known of the early hour and had been appropriately affected by Weiss' relaxing tea, but it was not until Blake saw the pale blue outline of her window's shades that she realized how early it was. Every breath rang loudly in her ears, every step crunched piercingly on the carpet, and every thought burdened her guilty conscience, keeping her from much-needed slumber. But she knew that sleep would never come—no, not tonight. Regardless of forgiveness, acceptance, or new family bonds, she had still attacked Yang out of unwitting fear. It was regrettable, wholeheartedly and entirely, but it had still happened. As such, her mind could not rest.

She sat beneath the covers of her old bed—the guest room, it had once been—and simply watched the blue window behind her. She could still see Yang's wince, she could feel how close the blonde had come to forgiveness before pulling away. Now that the rain had stopped, the room had become a well of introspective gravity, eking out the most self-destructive thoughts and surrendering Blake to the cold silence of her usual solitude. Ruby and Weiss had long since fallen asleep and Yang now moved about the house, extinguishing candles and laundering the linens Blake's sword had stained. To this end, Gambol Shroud likely remained where it had been dropped in Yang's room, far away from its owner's grasp and littering the blonde's floor as though it were nothing to be proud of. Unfortunately, this left the Faunus justly alone. She did not enjoy this silence of her own intention and hated the fact that she was alone, but she would not complain because she deserved this pain after causing so much.

However, she was all too eager to perk at the opening creak of her room's door. As soon as she saw the blonde's head poke through the gap created, a wave of relief washed over the Faunus and instantly these effacing thoughts were forgotten. Of course, a dreadful understanding came with this relief, but Blake would relax and take solace in Yang's reappearance.

"Blake?" she called. "You doing all right, kitten?"

"Yeah." It was not an entirely accurate response, but the Faunus was glad to have company. "What about you?"

"Good, good. I'm good. Um…" Yang stepped into the room, holding her arm as she pushed the door back, closing it with eyes focused apologetically on her partner. "I don't want to intrude or anything, but do you think I could crash with you tonight? I mean, this morning? We kinda messed up my sheets, so they're gonna have to go in the wash for a bit. I don't blame you for it or anything—it's really okay. It's just…" She sighed. "I missed you, Blake. I can't get to sleep without you."

The immediate answer was a resounding yes, but upon further consideration, Blake had to ask, "But what if I hurt you again? What if you get hurt because of me and you can't recover? I still don't know what happened, but if it happens again—"

"I'm not scared." The blonde stepped forward. "I know you didn't mean it and I know you won't do it again."

Her eyes burned a fervent violet which showed nothing but trust. She was not scared and she meant what she said, and as these eyes caught Blake's own, the Faunus knew that her partner was undeterred. "I feel safe around you Blake, like everything's gonna be okay. I don't care if you're jumpy or if you can't deal with thunder, because that's all right. Everybody has something they can't deal with. But if you think that means you're weird or something, you're not. We're just having a rough patch right now and everything seems like it's falling apart. But it's going to be all right, Blake.

"I'm not scared. If you want me to go, I'll leave you alone, but I'll always be here for you no matter what."

Blake was not as cynical as Weiss, so she did not believe that Yang was lying now after abandoning her team previously. However, she was not as credulous as Ruby, either, so she could not accept this promise without some amount of consideration. Yang had historically kept almost every promise she made, and whenever she proved unable to, it was due to either an intentional joke or her own inability. Fortunately, neither seemed to apply in this present case, being that Yang continued to frown and claimed herself brave. She had been a reliable friend, an indomitable ally, and, in the end, Blake loved her more than anything else in this world. The Faunus nodded, allowing Yang to approach.

She lifted a corner of her bedding, giving Yang entry without needing to use her arm, and quickly placed the covers back over her as the blonde scooted closer. Warmth spread across the room and throughout their shared blankets, effectively eliminating the morning's cold. The only sounds left were those of either rustling sheets as Yang found her place beside the Faunus or the concealed grunts she gave every time her arm contacted something. Eventually, however, she would settle to rest her head against Blake's chest and cradle her arm snugly between them, applying pressure which benefited her relief and as well closeness which the Faunus did enjoy. The embrace was completed by an arm wrapping around Yang's shoulder and Blake's head being placed atop her partner's own.

"I'm sorry," whispered the girl in black, pulling her partner as close as she could. "I'm sorry I hurt you. You were only trying to help me, and I just…I'm sorry." Her hand moved into the golden tangle of her partner's mane, losing itself in the selfless warmth and simply appreciating the owner's existence. "I'm sorry, Yang." She closed her eyes and pressed against the blonde head. "I don't want to hurt you again. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, kitten." Yang took a composing breath before nuzzling upwards, tucking herself beneath Blake's chin and conferring her unyielding faith in her partner. "It was just an accident, that's all. And accidents happen. Yeah, this kinda sucks, but I know you didn't mean it. You were scared and so was I and we just acted rashly. But that's okay. The wound's healing up and I'm kinda feeling better already; so, no harm, no foul."

She gave a short, halfhearted laugh. "Honestly, I probably deserved it after burning you back in Sierra. Though, you did kinda throw a pretty big knee and knock the wind out of me—not that I'm mad about that, by the way. Really, I should be asking if you could teach Ruby something like that. I know she'd really appreciate it." She sighed. "Sorry. Got off topic there, didn't I?"

Despite her proximity, she was nervous. Although Yang had expressed her need for the Faunus and now cuddled up next to her, she continued to exhibit an odd timidity which simply proved atypical. She wrapped her other arm around Blake's hip, curled her legs around her partner's own, and was unusually gentle in the way that she did so. Yang was bold, Yang was brave, but these were the characteristics of the blonde in her usual state, and the Yang of now was tentative and sorry. "I didn't mean to wake you up like that," she continued to apologize. "I probably should've done something else, but you just looked like you were having a rough time. I mean, I thought I was choking you or something when you said you couldn't breathe, and when you continued, I guess I sort of freaked out, too."

The hand around Blake's waist pulled them both closer in spite of the pain this seemed to cause. "I'm sorry, kitten. It's as much my fault as it is yours, so don't worry about it. I'm the one who should be apologizing."

At first, it seemed as if her words carried a singular meaning: a simple apology to relieve Blake of some amount of burden. However, it quickly became apparent that Yang was more scared than she was letting on. Her jocose attitude had become a hindrance and she was starting to place the blame solely on herself. Perhaps this self-destruction was simply a sign of shock after the earlier attack, but Yang had always been one to bounce back after a defeat. The scolding Weiss had given her must have taken root in much too damaging a way and allowed the blonde to think that the blame rested solely on herself. She was grasping at her partner and trying to bring her back despite the fact that Blake was not going anywhere.

To ease these anxious thoughts, the Faunus frowned and wrapped her other arm around Yang, holding her close. "No," she argued. "No, I think we're done with apologies for now. It doesn't matter who's to blame, it doesn't matter why it happened; you were hurt and now you're getting better. That's all that matters, Yang.

"We're still a team and we all have our problems, but solving them and making sure we stay together is part of what makes us a team. You've been there for me every time I've messed up, and, likewise, I'm going to be there for you every time you mess up. It's going to hurt and it always will, but I'm always going to be willing to help you. If you get injured, I'll be there to bandage your wounds. If you're having trouble with an exam, I'll do my best to sneak you an answer. If you want me to help train Ruby, I'll do whatever I can. And if you ever run, I'll always follow. It doesn't matter where you go or why you're going, because I'll be there at your side, ready to go when you are.

"I love you, Yang, and I won't leave if you don't. The White Fang doesn't mean anything, the burn in Sierra doesn't mean anything, and this morning won't mean anything after I've made it up to you. We still have a ways to go, but everything will be all right soon. I promise."

It was then that Yang released a slight but noticeable tension from herself, her body slackening as she let out a sigh and her legs curling up almost protectively around Blake's own. "I love you, too, kitten. We're still…you know, cool, right?"

For the first time in what felt like days, Blake released a quiet laugh. "Yeah," she said. "We're cool." The noise Yang made was halfway between a hum and a giggle—a wonderful noise that communicated both her thankful intent and as well the fact that she was still afraid. But Blake supposed that this latter sentiment was to be expected. Nothing she could say would be able to completely change another's mind about a situation, and she had learned this from her failures in the White Fang. Time would be the only force which could close these wounds—time and loving attention. As long as Yang knew she was being cared for and as long as she knew she had a reason to be brave, she would always be warm.

The morning blue of an overcast sky parted for a splendid bouquet of orange and white. Both girls found themselves squinting at dawn's first lights, but Yang would be the one to release a frustrated, if somewhat amused sigh. She moved to reposition herself on Blake's shoulder, smiling briefly at her partner's caught gaze before pecking her cheek and resigning to her nook. They simply watched the lights climb the wall in front of them, seeing the pattern of the blinds expand and contract with the rise of the sun.

"You know," Yang mused, breaking the buzzing silence and finding a smile on her girlfriend's features, "I never thought the first sunrise I'd get to watch with someone else would turn out this way. Don't get me wrong, the company's great, but the circumstances are a little more…PG than I thought they'd be."

Blake shook her head, rolling her eyes all the while. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm happy to be with you, too. Thank you for getting me through last night."

"Anytime."

Yang was amazing. She was selfless, kind, light-hearted when the situation required it, and, most importantly, she was Blake's. Perhaps Ruby and Weiss were not as much family to the Faunus as her partner was, but this could not be helped. This favoritism was only caused by the value Blake placed on the girl, and it did not help when Yang made herself exponentially likable in trying times like these. She was as close to a member of Blake's family as Lilian and Cole were yet somehow she seemed to be a more constant force in the young Faunus' life. She was amazing, Blake thought, and though she could be masterful with her lying facades and artful with her conversational deflections, she was still the greatest girl Blake had ever known. "So," the blonde then drawled, gaining a smirking Faunus' quizzical look, "we're not actually going to sleep, are we?"

"To be honest, I doubt it. I'm still a little shaken up by the things I did to you and all the reminiscing Weiss forced me to do." She sighed and gave a tired smile. "I also don't think going to sleep at the break of dawn a few weeks before school starts would be the best idea ever."

"Right. School." Yang grimaced. "So, we're staying up, then?" She received a nod. "All right. Sounds good to me. We should probably figure out what to do for breakfast or something 'cause I don't wanna spend all day thinking about sleep when we could be out doing stuff. That, and I need to start teaching you how to drive Bumblebee before we head back to Beacon. I wanted to do it later, but—what do you know—there isn't a later."

"I already know how to drive."

"I'm sure you do, kitten, but riding a motorcycle's a bit different than driving a car. That, and I didn't really make Bumblebee the easiest thing to drive, let alone turn on. I mean, how's somebody not going to try and steal her if she's parked on the side of the road?" She hummed in her amusement. "Anyways, breakfast first. Then we can figure out what to do after that."

"Fair enough. Are we going now or—"

Blake was interrupted by a fervent shake of her partner's head. "No," the blonde insisted. "Snuggle first. Then breakfast. Just give me a few more minutes." This was perhaps the most reasonable request and action offered thus far tonight. As such, Blake would gladly accept.

She was sorry and would continue to offer her apologies for the rest of the week, giving reassurances wherever they were needed and gradually rebuilding their relationship to its former glory. They were both scared but not by each other. No, their fears had been the same ones they had always held: those of themselves. However, when they were together, these fears meant little. This was the reason why Blake saw her unconscious fit as wholly reprehensible. She had thought that it had severed their relationship and set Yang on a path of fear and loathing, but if this present moment were any indication, her assumption could not be any further from the truth. Yang continued to be her strong, warm self, and it was now apparent that her characteristics had notably affected her partner by way of osmosis. They were truly inseparable, or so Blake dearly believed. Parts of her had taken hold of Yang and parts of Yang had taken hold of her—they were one in the same at this point and no early morning accident would set them apart.

Gradually, the sun would rise above the trees of the surrounding forest and the day would arrive, sending off the leaden clouds and vaporizing whatever residue they left behind. It would be a clear, sunny week for the city of Vale and, likewise, this couple would find only progress—forgiveness, acceptance. They would simply snuggle for the moment, as Yang had aptly put it, and would eventually leave the house to go about their day. All the while, memories of the storm and visions of betrayal would be overshadowed by the happiness they together shared. Of course, they were not cured, but they were most certainly happy and would remain this way for the coming week. Yang was amazing, Blake thought. That she could accept this traumatic experience and forgive both herself and her partner in such a short time was simply amazing.

---

For the record, everything is not fixed by the end of this chapter—especially not to the lengths Blake expects. The entire last section should have come off as placating and calming in regard to her relationship, but at the same time, there were several pieces of narration that should have alerted you to the fact that something's up. Specifically, that last sentence should have raised a huge red flag.

I can't tell you what this red flag means lest I spoil the plot ahead, but it should be kept in mind that the characters of this story are habitual liars. Although they don't lie to each other most of the time, they do tend to lie to themselves and you can rest assured that Blake absolutely does lie to you (see: the last sentence of this chapter). However, this isn't to say that the entire story has some underlying plot based off of these lies and the truth behind them. No, it's simply the nature of faith in another person and Blake thinking that Yang can do no wrong. There have been lies given throughout this tale, usually found in simple cover-up stories, sentences trailing off, and assurances that nothing's wrong, but the closer we get to the end of Act Four, the more lies we will see of greater importance. And what do you know! This chapter happens to mark the end of Act Four.

This will certainly start Act Five off on something of a bittersweet note. I won't say much about the fifth act because by doing so, I'd by spoiling the ending. However, the pieces are in place for what is to come and the foreshadowing has been set and the people, places, things, and just about every other necessity have been introduced for the culminating closure which this story deserves. However, I should not lead you to believe that I have a final plot twist up my sleeve. That's not how my endings work. They're a bit more reflective than introductory, but I have a feeling you'll like what is to come.

But enough with the spoilers. For now, I want to touch on one particular thing that I enjoyed about this chapter. Way back in chapter seven, the original "The Storm" chapter, we saw Ruby, Weiss, and Yang having their time in the spotlight and coming together to be something of a team. However, that was all during a period of peace. This chapter saw the team coming together during a time of crisis in a way that didn't require additional firepower or fight-winning tactics. Yang was reduced to a frightened version of herself and Blake was realizing the scope of her supposed cowardice, and this left Ruby to take up her sister's caring mantle and for Weiss to become a fallible mediator. There was both success and failure and, at times, Yang and Weiss were at each other's throats, but by the end of the night, they were able to stumble to an understanding that left them in a better place than where they started.

I just enjoy the idea of these characters taking on their latent roles as their regular personalities are sidelined for a moment. It gives a glimpse into their futures and shows who they might eventually be. Of course, I don't intend to make Blake and Yang a collectively worried mess, but it does show who they really are behind the façades they have to wear.

Anyways, I had fun with this chapter. It was an attempt to reach a word count below 20,000 for the first time in what feels like forever, and while these author's notes and Fanfiction's line breaks pushed it over that threshold, I get to have the satisfaction that the chapter itself accomplished this goal. The next chapter won't have this limiting factor, but it will have a different goal set for it. I can't spoil what that will be, but I can assure that the chapter will be happier and that it will be fun.

Before then, I have one last chapter of Edelweiss to write. It might take a bit of time simply because it's concluding the story, but I can't imagine that it will create an excessive delay. If you're curious about what the ending to Valence will be like (in terms of quality and structure, not similarities in plots), then I should point you in the direction of Edelweiss. I'm very fortunate to be writing both of these stories as I am having tremendous fun with them, and at this particular moment, between the closing chapter of Edelweiss and chapter eighteen of Valence, I find myself positively giddy with excitement.

With all that said, I should leave you be. Thank you for reading and all your support. There have been moments over these past few months where I've found myself doubtful and uneasy, but after rereading your reviews, I've been significantly calmed. You all are incredible with the support you've shown and I simply can't thank you enough. So, again, thank you.

Three chapters remain.

Stay safe and stay tuned.