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.

19. Chapter 19: Absolution

I'm excited about this one. There's nothing I can say as to why I'm excited, lest I spoil what's to come, but just know that this one's been in the works for a long, long time. This is Valence's endgame, and I couldn't be happier with it.

Also, as a brief aside, this story's PDFs have all been updated. Because some of the earlier chapters received grammatical facelifts during these past couple months, page counts were altogether thrown off and eventually made no sense at all. They now make better sense since the texts align with what's written on Fanfiction. By no means is it required of you to re-download them if you've been keeping up with Valence for a while, but this update includes the revised early chapters and consistent page numbers throughout. So, if you care about consistency, the download link is in the same place it's always been on my profile.

Anyhow, back to the book. I think this one's a fun one, but maybe that's just me; I'll defer to your judgment in that regard. For now, good luck with chapter nineteen of Valence.

---

Chapter 19: Absolution

Between the four occupants of the Schnee limousine, a brutal stillness had festered, a conscience-leaden silence that ripped and tore at their already tattered patience as they coasted along this stormy road. For their parts, Ruby and Weiss looked on in separate states of composure, although the former was by no means composed—relative to her sister, Ruby was somber. Yang, meanwhile, was heartbroken, neither tearful at her own rationalizations nor affected by the assurances from those around her. And though Blake held her close, the blonde's expression yet twisted in anguish, ignoring her partner's combing efforts and causing her sister to squeeze Weiss' hand in alarm.

Beneath the torrents of this ceaseless storm, the limousine shuddered and swayed. High winds threatened to upend this otherwise defensible vehicle while the rains obscured its passage, leaving only flashing brake lights and ever-changing rivulets for the driver ahead. All the while, a northern wind gusted against the road, forcing this racket upon Team RWBY's silence.

They looked between each other in differing states of timidity. Weiss seemed almost inappropriately calm for the situation, although her gaze did shift from Ruby to Yang and quickly back to Ruby. Besides her, however, the general mood was very much in the negative. Following the team's visit to the carrousel, the only words Yang had uttered were in short, dishonest replies to questions about her status. Now she leaned with eyes half-lidded against Blake's chest, frustrated by the irrational challenges she was likely setting for herself. She understood the Faunus' devotion and thus held to it, but her mind was elsewhere, stuck on nightmare hypotheticals.

A horn blared from somewhere behind them, and in an instant the limousine was passed by a driver in the next lane. Reckless though the speed was, this distraction proved able to pull the partnerships from their stagnancy. Ruby turned to Weiss, smiled briefly, and let go of her hand. Just as quickly, she found her way to the floor between their benches and took hold of Yang's gloves.

The girl smiled. "Hey, Yang?" She was met with a frown. "Is there anything we can do to help you cheer up? We could probably put on the radio or something so it isn't too gloomy in here. Weiss, we can turn on some music, right?" The heiress nodded. "See? Music always helped you calm down before, so why not try it now?"

Her only response was the continual patter against the roof, rain falling in sheets to serve their referenced gloom.

"Maybe we can run a bath for you when we get back?" Ruby tried. "That always works, right? I mean, it was a kinda long day out there, and you won't get to take one at Beacon, so…" Once she realized no response would be given in this despondent state, the young girl finally frowned, more so disappointed in herself than anyone else if her tightened grip was evident. "C'mon, Yang. Say something. Just let us help."

"Ruby…" whispered the blonde. "It's…I'm fine."

Ruby shook her head, making a small disagreeing noise. "No, you're not. You keep pushing us away when we're trying to help you. And I don't wanna lecture you on that if I don't have to, but, Yang, I'm really starting to think you need it." She held a caring, tentative look that told of her unmistakable fear but as well the forceful tact her role required.

"We're all your friends, and friends help each other. That's just part of the job. And I know you gotta do everything yourself, but sometimes it's okay to ask for help. You're always here for us, so we'll always be here for you." She attempted a smile again, forcing as much hope into the expression as possible and making sure Yang saw it. "Just…It's gonna be all right, Yang. But you gotta let us help sometimes—like, not all the time, but at least sometimes."

"Ruby, you shouldn't have to do this." Yang's voice was low, frightened by the consequences she saw all around her. "I should be better. If I was better, this would all be fine."

Out of the corner of Blake's eye, Weiss budged. Her posture had straightened as though there were something she wanted to say, but this ultimately ended with a bit lip. Whether this was fortunate or not, Blake could not decide. Right now, the entire situation seemed unnatural and baffling, and all the young Faunus could do was spectate the conversation rather than participate as she was expected to. However, in her spectatorship, she could still hold on to her partner and aid Ruby's efforts, channeling warmth into the frigid form beside her.

"Yeah, maybe." Ruby sighed. "But maybe if I was better, you wouldn't be afraid to accept my help. I mean, we all need to get better, but that takes time—and experience. Maybe this is like an experience for you or something, something to show you why help helps."

Suddenly, an idea seemed to strike the girl. She smiled, honestly and excitedly. "Remember the first time we sparred at Signal? When you broke my winning streak?" Yang sent her a weary, confused look. "You showed me I wasn't the best in the school just because I was kinda good. I still remember that day because you showed me I was wrong when nobody else would, and that was really cool of you. But you also showed me that it only takes one bad experience to turn your life around, and if you deal with it right, then it can make you better."

Ruby gripped her sister's hand tighter. "Maybe this is just your bad day. I know that's not the best thing to hear right now, but maybe this means you are going to get better! Yeah, figuring it out's probably gonna suck, but—"

Yang closed her eyes. "Ruby, language."

"Sorry," the girl sheepishly offered. "But you get the point, right? There's something like a moral to all this, even if we don't see it right now. And I know you'll figure it out eventually, but just try letting us help. Even if today's a bad day, you don't have to let it be the worst day ever, right?"

The limousine slowed to a stop, settling amid a wreck-induced jam. Though the event itself was annoying to some inconsequential degree, this current stagnancy coupled with Yang's obstinacy tried the patience of the girls surrounding her. The wind could gust and threaten their stability and the rain could pelt with all the force it had, but Blake's concern would only be shaken by a faraway hum of thunder. At this, she held Yang tighter, not to react and upset her further but instead to pull away from her fears and take absolute solace in the girl who had helped her so many times before. But even then, Yang seemed to not see it this way.

She detached from Blake and Ruby's grips, moving to the seat beside her and holding her hands to herself as though she were cold for the first time in her life. Her head hung low upon seeing Weiss' derision, therefore missing Blake's wordless shock.

"Ruby," Yang began, "today wasn't a bad day. I had fun. Really, I did. And even if I didn't, that wouldn't matter; bad days happen, and we just get over them." She shook her head but dared not look her sister in the eye. "I mean, you even suggesting that goes to show how bad I messed up. Today was supposed to be a good day, and I really think it was in the end, but then I went and made it all about me. Weiss was right; I messed up. And I'm sorry." She heaved a ragged sigh, trying and unfortunately failing to hide her breaking voice.

With this, the team was left to a wanting silence.

Blake needed to say something—anything—but could not find the words to do her thoughts justice. An apology hung on the tip of her tongue as it always had in this waning summer month, but now she understood how worthless it was without the proper context. "I'm sorry" meant nothing if she did not know what it was for. Almost certainly, it had roots in their Sierra visit and the conversations in and surrounding it, but these alone could not account for Yang's change of character.

She was supposed to be easy-going, a sociable reflection of who Ruby had become and a constant source of warmth amid this insecure team. Instead, she was frightened now, alone in her understanding of what had gone wrong and what was to come. Whether or not she had hidden this side from the rest of the world was negligible to the fact that Blake had brought it to light. It seemed so long ago when the blonde was last openly happy and in love; now she was afraid of these emotions and the irrational potential of them abandoning her. It was Blake's fault this understanding could ever be gleaned, and were it not for her own fears and errors, then it was likely they would still be happy.

The vehicle shook from a distant rumble, but Blake could only flinch. Smiles and frowns were so far detached from what this moment demanded that she did not try for either, instead placing a hand atop her partner's hunching back. "You didn't mess up, Yang. We messed up—you and me. At the very least, I messed up first."

"No." The blonde shook her head. "Blake, it's not your fault. You didn't do anything. You shouldn't take responsibility for mistakes you didn't—"

"I know. But this isn't about that." Even as lightning flashed on the nearing horizon, this image of missing fire drew the Faunus' absolute attention. Before her was a soul in desperate need, not a hypothetical group or cause but a tangible instance of human suffering, and for this there was only worry. "This is about…I don't know. I don't know why we're slipping, but we are, and the fact that I can't figure this out goes to show how out of touch I am. And I'm sorry."

Yang shuddered at her partner's words, finding them incompatible with her now accepted rationale. "You're not the only one who can't figure this out. I don't even know what I'm going through." Feeble bursts of energy radiated out from her form.

Weiss sighed, interjecting herself without invitation. "Perhaps that's because you're in over your head. You can't think clearly because—"

"Because I'm not cut out for this." Three pairs of disbelieving eyes turned on the girl, bewildered by this leap in logic. Yang shrugged off her partner's hand and moved even further from her team, leaning against the partition wall and looking away in shame. "I'm just a huntress; that's all I'm cut out for. All I can do is punch stuff, kill things. I'm not cut out for helping other people, especially if I can't even help myself. Like, how am I supposed to help people if I keep burning everything I touch?"

The limousine lurched ahead as the surrounding brake lights vanished altogether. Traffic had begun its forwards crawl again, and with this and the unrelenting rains came sluggishness, for as the delayed stretch of highway progressed at last, its prior blockage came into view. Even Yang, frustrated though she was, looked to the flashing police lights and saw the crash that passed them by. Flipped, totaled, pressing against the outer barrier, and with a shivering family sheltered behind it, the otherwise unremarkable sedan proved a message of caution and consequence; unfortunately, this message was given no credence by those who gazed upon it and continued their urgent rush from the storm.

However, Blake had missed it entirely. She had, of course, seen the rest of her teammates' curiosity, but her own eyes were trained on Yang. The blonde's heart visibly ached, and being the only one to stand beside her at every turn this summer, Blake knew she deserved some of the blame, too.

She wanted to reach out and sit beside her partner as would have been expected a month ago but found herself paralyzed by wordlessness and missed opportunities. Ruby, however, reached her sister first, looking to Weiss for permission then to Blake for the same before picking herself off the floor and sitting beside the blonde. It should have been Blake consoling the shivering girl, but she conceded that any sort of help was preferable to her cowardly inaction.

"It's okay, Yang. Just think about it this way: if you weren't so good at punching stuff, I wouldn't be as good of a fighter as I am now." Without hesitation, Ruby rested her head on Yang's shoulder, causing a clear shift in the older girl's emotion. "Yeah, we're not the most normal kids out there and we're not the best team of huntresses, but that doesn't mean we should feel bad about it. Like, I'm bad at talking to new people. I know it, I don't like it, but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. It's hard for me to make friends or even find something to talk about if I don't know the person already, but when I do know someone and I know 'em for a while, everything gets easier. I start getting better at talking to them and they start to look more approachable. And after a while, we just sort of click! That's what happened with me and Weiss; she's helping me get better at talking to people, and I'm really thankful.

"I know you've got more to you than punching and killing, but if you don't believe me, believe in Blake. She wants to help you and was trying to do that all day. I don't know how to anymore because I don't know what's going on and I don't think Weiss knows, either, but Blake does. She knows what you're going through because you've gone through so much together; she wants to help you like Weiss is helping me." She smiled at the heiress opposite herself, neither dutifully nor forcefully. "I like who you are, Yang. You're funny and nice and a better sister than I give you credit for, and I think you're cut out for whatever you want to be cut out for. Just…Teamwork. We aren't going to get anywhere without teamwork."

With a sigh, Yang relaxed. Her self-destructive scowl yet remained, unfortunately, and burned away whatever hope could come from this change in posture. Her head came to rest atop Ruby's own, eliciting a naïve rise in emotion from the smiling girl but a disappointed frown from Blake.

"I get it," Yang sighed. "I know what you mean. Teamwork's the way to go and I can't do everything on my own. I understand that." She put an arm around Ruby's shoulder and pulled her close, finding reprieve in the young girl's hair and incidentally sending a guilty pang through the Faunus' heart. "And I want that to be the way it is—I wanna let you guys help me and help you just as much—but I keep pushing you away for some reason. I don't communicate enough, don't let anything show when I'm feeling bad. And I don't mean I feel bad too often, but when I do, I just feel weak. Then I take it out on you guys by messing things up and not saying anything. Now Blake and me aren't even talking anymore because we don't know what to talk about."

She turned to the girl in black, trying for some sort of meek, unbefitting smile, but unfortunately sank back into sullenness upon seeing her averted gaze. "I'm sorry, Blake," was all the blonde could say now. Her arms hugged Ruby tighter, but her eyes strained at seeing her partner tear away at herself.

In the low light of the storm, the Faunus could see clearly the youngest girl's love, the quiet heiress' agitation, and the longing, pained hope radiating from Yang's expression. These, in their respective ways, were products of her inability. Had she the fortitude to remain upright and say something, Ruby would not have needed to cling to her sister, thereby eliminating Weiss' annoyance. But now she needed to say something—she needed to be strong for Yang and help her. Like Weiss had said, the onus of care rested solely on her.

"I forgive you," she whispered. Truthfully, there was nothing to forgive since there was no error to correct in the first place, but it nevertheless needed to be said.

Yang smiled. It was fragile and vulnerable, but she seemed genuine, as though this brooding mood was truly unwanted. Her hand departed from Ruby's shoulder and, with its arm still resting behind the young girl, reached out to the Faunus. She did not say anything despite her desperate look and she did not beg for her partner's acceptance; merely, she offered a momentary ceasefire with this hand extended.

However, Blake could not return the smile. Her present guilt far removed the possibility for total reparation, but she did take the blonde's hand in her want of normalcy and moved closer to the recovering sisters. Ruby did not react in the slightest as the Faunus was pulled against her, and it was only Blake who was moved by the fingers now brushing along her neck.

"I love you, Blake; I really do. It takes a special kind of person to put up with me for as long as you have and to listen to the stuff I never say." Unexpectedly, Yang's expression shifted downwards again. "You could do a whole lot better than me and I could stand to improve, myself, but I'm glad you're forgiving. If it wasn't for that, I don't think we could've gotten past a week together. All I've contributed are dumb jokes and sometimes backup, and you're still able to hold us together somehow. It's really amazing."

Her weakened smirk returned. It was a small, thankful fire in the darkness and a sign of sincere hope which slowly eased the Faunus' racing mind. The hand on Blake's neck squeezed gently, conveying a hug's emotion even with Ruby between them. "Thanks, kitten." At last, Blake was able to smile too amongst the rains and thunder and see a flickering light at the end of their collective tunnel. "Really, thanks. I did have fun today, and I don't mean to stress you or Ruby out. But it's gonna be okay now. It'll be o—"

The heiress shifted in her seat, pulling her team's gazes suddenly. Even without a Faunus' vision, it was more than apparent she was rolling her eyes. "It'll all be okay?" she interrupted. "Is that what you were going to say? Do you ever tire of saying the same thing over again while never truly meaning it?"

"Weiss!" snapped Ruby, a horrified expression coming over her. "What the heck? What was that for?"

With a tired sigh, the girl in white glanced questioningly at the shocked three before setting her sights on Yang alone. "I'm sorry. That was rash of me." It was a lie, though Weiss made no attempt to mask it. "But how many times do I have to hear a variant of 'Everything will be okay' or 'It's all right?' It's been an ongoing theme this summer, and it doesn't seem to lead anywhere when you say it—either there's nothing to forgive or you're simply lying to yourselves."

Yang's smirk disappeared, the hope in her eyes vanished, and in their place came not a frown but a far more sinister neutrality. She had taken this lashing to heart, and thus resigned to self-reflection, sending Blake into an unexpected fury.

Amber eyes flashed in the dark. "Do you mind? We're trying to help Yang right now, not cater to you."

"Oh, that's incredibly apparent. I haven't been able to avoid that fact for nearly a month now, but thank you for reminding me." Perhaps it had been wrong to instigate this fight, Blake thought. Of course, it was too late to take her words back and even if she were to apologize, she had hastily lit a fire on a short fuse.

"You see, I don't care if she's upset. Right now, she has every right to be this way because there hasn't been a word of stability between you yet. All you do is promise each other things, but whenever an opportunity arises, you let impulse lead you from your plans. That leads to instability. You have no plans, no goals, only empty promises, and I'm not at all surprised Yang has become an emotional wreck. What I am surprised by, and, frankly, exasperated by, is that you've been content to stay this way for an entire month—a full thirty-one days of sulking and misery."

Weiss now glared back at her teammate, having the unfortunate advantage in her emotional detachment. Blake knew provoking her further would only end poorly for all parties involved, but at the same time, the girl had a warped view of what was going on. This crisis did not continue because of Blake or Yang's enjoyment and every promise made had yet to be broken. Further, even the matter of impulse had been confused for in-the-moment necessity.

"Content?" argued Blake. "If Yang and I were content, do you really believe I'd give up what we had before? Do you honestly think we'd involve you and Ruby if we enjoyed being in this much pain? This isn't fun for any of us, but if you think we enjoy suffering just to see you annoyed, then you couldn't be more conceited."

Ruby sat up between the unfortunate duo. "I'm sorry, Weiss, but she's right. This isn't about you right now." The look she gave her partner was surprisingly upset. In a word, she was disappointed in the heiress, and this look seemed to have a sobering effect on its recipient. "Yang's never liked being in pain. She's just not used to it—stuff doesn't hurt her. And I've never seen her in this way before, so if you're saying she's making it up, you're wrong.

"I get that you're annoyed. Really, it makes a lot of sense; I'm annoyed, too. But I'm not gonna get mad about it. You probably don't wanna admit it, but you don't like seeing Yang sad, either—kinda like how you don't like seeing me scared and nervous." The heiress looked down. "It's just not normal, and you want everything to be the same. But sometimes things mess up and we have to fix them; that's what's going on with Blake and Yang. Yeah, it's a little bit frustrating now that you mention the whole month thing, but that doesn't mean you have to be mean about it—that's just gonna make things worse."

She sighed and turned her head to face Blake, offering a calmer and fortunately friendlier expression. "And Blake? Weiss isn't trying to start anything. Sorry if it came off like that. Really, she cares about Yang like you and me, but she just shows it differently—I'd know; she might not be nice all the time, but she's trying to help, too."

"I am," said Weiss quietly, if not reluctantly. "You and Ruby have your ways of placating a situation, I have mine, and so does Yang. Unfortunately, none of your methods seems to be having an effect here and I can't suppose mine are doing much better. But I had to try. We made a poor choice in staying out for as long as we did and I'm not particularly fond of lengthy travel, so I apologize for my temper. But I will not apologize for what I said because it needed to be heard."

A moment later, the limousine changed lanes and its passengers soon felt the pull of its descent down the off-ramp. With a sigh, Weiss seemed to rid herself of whatever tensions gripped her. "Finally," she breathed, shaking her head and looking back to the uncertain three. "My point isn't that you enjoy your pain but that you seem fixated on your chosen methods. There's no innovation between you, no adaptation. You simply say everything will be all right and hug. Regardless of its previous effectiveness, you two are at an obvious standstill and your method's potency has worn off. I've heard your reassurances one too many times, and I can only assume that whatever you keep trying isn't working.

"Yang," she sighed, pulling the blonde's once again hesitant expression. "I'm sorry. No matter what little we've held between us, I can't help but sympathize with you. However, you must understand that perfection does not come naturally and it would be irresponsible to think otherwise. This sulking serves no other purpose than to hinder yourself.

"I speak from experience when I say the road to flawlessness has many forks, options you will never have the chance to travel again—it's simply impossible to become perfect altogether. I've spent my entire life studying and keeping away from unnecessary interactions while you've spent your time socializing and caring for others. We're both competent at hiding behind our respective masks, though I imagine you'd never wear mine while I simply cannot wear yours. So, if you really are looking to become perfect, I'd suggest giving up now. You'd do far better to perfect yourself instead."

The heiress then turned to Blake and shook her head. Either she was lying outright as a means of pacification, in which case this method was cruel, or she did not believe the words she said. Blake believed the latter, although this could be attributed to her rise in defensive urges.

No matter what, however, Weiss meant to help, be it for personal satisfaction or perhaps due to a shadow of empathy. Whatever the case, her speech made sense. In a normal, rational state of mind, it should be obvious that all-around perfection would be impossible. But when their combined expertise, now being of a skeptically low credibility, was unable to quiet this gale tearing the taller two apart, rationality proved similarly unreasonable. Yang needed to understand this, harshly worded though it was.

In this way, Blake found herself in agreement, excluding the chosen tone. "Yang, if this is about you not measuring up to my expectations, you don't have to worry." She knew a smile would be perhaps too much despite its reassuring intent, and as such, both girls frowned. "I honestly don't have any expectations for you. I have standards, sure, but you've met them already; even then, that doesn't change what I think about you as a person. All this talk of not being smart enough or strong enough or even cut out for this is unwarranted. I like you just the way you are, Yang, and so does everyone else here."

The Faunus then placed a hand on her partner's knee, reaching across her leader's lap and inadvertently squeezing her between them. Fortunately, the young girl did not voice her objection. Though Ruby did not smile any longer, her focus was similarly on Yang's recovery, and this led to the immediate hug she gave the blonde. Weiss was still somewhat agitated at how long it was taking to return home, but Blake knew she would behave—their brief argument, although a loss, had seemingly settled the heiress' temper. Yang, unfortunately, went unmoved by these reassurances.

"Nice of you to say," she sighed, "but that's not true, is it?"

"What? Of course it is."

She shook her head. "Blake, I get it. You like me. But you don't have to lie to me. I'm…lacking. You and me like different stuff, but the problem is that you can actually talk to me about the stuff I like—movies, games, guns, whatever. You're smart enough to do that. But I'm not smart enough to talk about the stuff you like." Her voice lowered to a self-effacing murmur. "Like, I can't even remember the last time I read a real book. And all the stuff you read doesn't sound like stuff I'd like. So, what are we gonna talk about down the road if I'm not smart enough to understand the things you like?"

"Does that really matter?" offered Blake. "We always find something to talk about anyway; you make sure of that. Besides, you do ask about the books I read. It's obvious you care to understand."

"But I just don't!" A quick wave of heat radiated from the girl in yellow. "Don't you get it, Blake? I'm not cut out for the long run. We have it good now, but in a year? Two? What about after Beacon? We're probably gonna get stationed in different places and we might not see each other for a while. What then? Most of the stuff you and your mom talked about was what you guys read, and that seemed to work great. I mean, I can ask about your books, but talk about them? I'm just not cut out for you. I'm nothing in the long run, Blake. I'm just a short-run fling."

Involuntarily, the hand on Yang's knee clenched. Her bitter sentiments were painfully uncharacteristic, but this "fling" notion had been the single most alarming observation Blake had heard from the girl. However, this was only the cause of the clench; her mind and arguments lingered on other terms.

The Faunus' gaze turned in tentative disbelief towards the heiress. "Long run" and "short run" were not terms Yang would ever use. These were economic terms, and though Yang must have been somewhat good with money considering the house she veritably owned and maintained, Weiss was the only one here who had a formal education in the science. Moreover, these terms had been used in the heiress' private speech during their city walk. As soon as her blue eyes shifted away from Blake's silent accusation, it was made apparent that the conversation had indeed been private but not at all exclusive.

With a frustrated growl, Blake returned to Yang, intent on fixing this mistake. "For what it's worth, I don't see us that way. In fact, I thought I would be different from the," she glanced at the heiress, changing her wording to avoid a breach of trust, "others. I made you a promise, and that promise directly contradicts the possibility of a fling. We're better than that, Yang; we've been through a lot together and we'll continue to do so in the coming years."

"But that's the thing. We were supposed to be in good shape, but I messed us up."

The rain calmed for a moment, a rattling respite which allowed the Faunus to see where they were. The plazas of suburban businesses with their flashing open signs and stubborn, rain-locked patrons zipped by the limousine's windows. They were nearing home faster than anticipated; perhaps it was impatience on the driver's part or simple distraction found in this turmoil. But no matter what, Blake knew that if they were to return home with these issues unresolved, only more problems would arise. And it was unlikely these resultant problems could be fixed by the time they returned to Beacon.

"I don't understand." The surrounding three turned to Blake, just as uncertain. "You keep saying you messed up, but I don't see it. How did you mess up? When?"

"When I yelled at you after the music store…"

"That? Yang, you had every right to yell at me then. I was being unreasonable and yelling at you, too. But if you think you were at fault because of the mistakes I made…I don't know. Yang, it's just…Blame me for that!"

"I can't do it. I just…No. You know I started that whole argument; I was the one who walked us through the crowd in the first place. I even knew you didn't like it and I thought I could protect you, but it just didn't turn out that way." The blonde leaned somehow further against the partition wall, trying to pull away from Ruby's hug and moving her leg to escape Blake's hand. "Your dad told me to take care of you and then I made you sick and now your mom doesn't trust me and Ruby doesn't, either, 'cause I tried to stop her and—"

"Yang," Blake interrupted, pulling her hand away and giving Ruby some needed space. "Those weren't your fault. None of them were."

"Yes, they were!" The rest of the team shied away from the blonde's rise in volume as Blake withheld a wince. "Don't lie to me, Blake. It doesn't matter who did what; I started those things, so it was my fault." Rather than a radiating heat which had since been expected from Yang's emotional outbursts, a sapping cold gathered in the area around her. Although it was obvious she did not believe her own arguments, she was unwittingly convinced by them.

Regardless, the Faunus could not help but frown at her partner's accusation. "I'm not lying to you. I'm not trying to hide anything from you."

"Yang, be reasonable." The cold had sent a chill across the heiress' features, steeling her expression and causing her to hold to herself for warmth. "The words you had with me were entirely justified. Ruby and I dating must have come as a surprise, and had you not confronted me the way you did, well, I would assume something was wrong. You are protective by nature and care for those you hold stock in, which is something I can't say for my own family.

"However, the thought that you hurt Ruby in some way by arguing with me is completely absurd. The only reaction she had was feeling bad for me after the fact but could find no reason to demonize you. At the very worst, your actions made me hesitant to progress, but even then, I've gotten over it."

"And me too," Ruby added. "I mean, it was kinda scary when it happened, but I guess I've always kinda known you'd do something like that. You know how dad got when you started dating, and compared to how you get sometimes, he's pretty laid back. I didn't want you looking over my shoulder and stuff, but you never did that, and I'm happy you gave me some space."

Rather than hugging her sister again, Ruby sat up and turned to face her with an assuring, genuine smile to help her point along. "I don't think you've ever hurt anybody you didn't mean to. Yeah, you can get pretty mad sometimes, but never at me and never at Blake. I don't know what happened when you guys went to Sierra, but it sounds like those really were accidents. And what happened with Weiss and me?" She shrugged. "You didn't have to do it, but I'm kinda happy you did. Made it seem like I was actually in a real relationship, having you freak out and stuff."

The limousine began to slow as the rain picked back up. Ruby's smile widened in a quick flash as she silently promised Yang everything would be all right. They were almost home now, taking the penultimate turn and reaching a street which had regularly been excused of traffic. At any other point in time, this closeness would be something to be thankful for, but considering the state Yang was in, there was not nearly enough time left.

She was still unconvinced and proved this through her tentative expression. Ruby had since left her after checking where they were, moving back to Weiss' side and whispering the information with equal uncertainty. It was as if all eyes were on the older sister, and though this was indeed the case, the strain this put on her seemed familiar to what Blake had known for so long. It could be seen in her glances, shifting this way and that, the unmistaken pressure that she must conform for others. Before, it had been a prudent choice to be strong and perennially positive; now, however, this expected appearance was a closing vice around her teenage freedoms.

Blake took her leader's place, moving closer to her girlfriend and placing what she hoped was a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "Yang," she assured, voice low and soft, "it's all right. What happened in Sierra is in the past now. We made mistakes, both you and me, and my mom had no reason to treat you the way she did. But that's just who she is. And making me sick…I don't care about that. Compared to what we go through every day at Beacon, vertigo doesn't seem all that important. We've argued, yes, and we moved a little too fast at times, but what healthy couple hasn't?"

Ruby and Weiss looked to each other for a moment, concern flashing across their faces, but Blake continued nevertheless. "We're not helpless, Yang. We can fix this. It may not be easy, and it's probably not going to be, but we can at least try, can't we?"

The blonde said nothing. Of course her answer would be yes; it was in her nature to move forwards and help those she cared about. Unfortunately, she was silent now, and this uncharacteristic response only told of a negative answer.

Blake sighed. "I forgive you. I'm not sure what there is to forgive, but I want you to know that whatever it is, it's okay. I've never thought lesser of you because of something you didn't know or couldn't do—those are what make you who you are. And I like who you are, Yang. I love you."

It was then that the limousine began its final turn, slowing down and pulling the team with it as the road changed from asphalt to dirt. A grieving look came over the blonde, something expressly irrational and altogether opposite what she held as regular belief. "D-" she started, ultimately stopping herself to commit in full. She then shuddered and simply let her words come naturally. "Don't bother. Just let me go. You'll be better off without me weighing you down."

In an instant, Blake was stunned.

"Yang!" Ruby gasped, disbelief making short work of her previous hope. "Please don't say stuff like that! It just isn't like you."

Something between a whimper and a growl shook the young blonde's form. She tried for a word and then a couple others, but the end result was Yang shaking her head and turning towards the approaching house. "I know. But that's why I have to say it. I'm not the same person I used to be, Ruby. I'm…weaker." Her gaze reluctantly trained on the glowing porch lights, closing in quickly.

As the car slowed to a final halt, Yang's muscles visibly tensed. She sat on the edge of her seat and ignored her sister's counterargument. Blake could only watch as the spectacle unfolded before her. She knew her partner was primed to run, but there was nothing she could possibly do to stop her. A fire was in Yang's eyes, and though it did indeed flicker in its vacuum of dissent, it continued to burn for those she loved—she would run because she loved her family.

Subconsciously, a hand reached out to take hers. The girl shuddered as fingers crawled between her own and locked. This was all Blake could do right now, unwitting as she was. For the briefest of happy moments, the blonde paused, hopefully reconsidering all she was to do and choosing instead to apologize and lead a fulfilling life; but when the limousine finally came to a complete stop before the sisters' home, Yang pried her fingers free and rushed to exit.

She was quick, fueled by an irrational need to distance herself from those she foresaw harming, and thus her actions were hasty and graceless. With two steps, she had freed herself from Blake's care and brushed past her sister to reach the cabin's door; and despite the lunges and cries of girls both red and white, Yang deafened herself willfully. She pulled and she pushed, and the soft patter of rain became a heavy hiss. Without looking back, the girl in gold all but leapt from the car to hurry elsewhere.

Blake followed immediately after, leaving behind Ruby and Weiss and as well the driver who had been tasked with letting them out. The storm caught her by surprise, eliciting a startled shiver as the natural cold contacted her skin. However, she did not mean to stand around. Yang had already climbed the porch steps to stand beside the door, fumbling through her pockets for a key and making a show of her deep distress.

But Blake was quick to chase. Her ears did not fold and her heels did not sink, for as she pushed ahead through the veritable wall of water, all she could think of was her partner's wellbeing.

"Yang!" she called, an angry shout to mask her fear. "Where are you going? All we want to do is talk!" This received no response, not even a glance. All the blonde could do was rummage through her pockets and lean against the door.

"Speak for yourself." As Blake reached the bottom of the porch, she found Weiss standing beside her, sheltered beneath Ruby's cloak as the young girl hid beneath her hood. "I think we're well past the point of conversation."

She was wrong. Yang could be reasoned with; all it took was the right wording and a bit of backbone. Blake growled and strode up the steps. "Yang!" she called again, scant feet from where the girl stood. "Listen to me. You haven't done anything wrong! Just tell us what you're thinking and…" Her speech was interrupted when Yang found her key at last. Something about this sight told the Faunus her efforts had been in vain—Yang meant to run from her, and it had been decided already. She continued, whispering, "And we'll figure something out."

In no time at all, the door was unlocked, thrown open, and left ajar as Yang rushed into the house, leaving the key bent in the lock. Erratically, she moved into the foyer and stopped to orient herself. She was in a rush but knew not where to go. And though Blake tried to follow her, stepping across the threshold to make some sort of amends, the blonde only moved further away.

With dripping hair and boots bemired, the two of black and yellow played their somber game of cat and mouse. From the foyer to the living room, from fear to reluctant despondency, and thereafter from the living room to the home theatre behind it, Blake followed her partner wherever she went, hoping for one curious glance to the world around her. But the lilac eyes were distant and distracted. Nothing caught Yang's attention but the ghosts she saw ahead. Fortunately, their chase came to a close with the theatre's natural dead end. So long as the Faunus stood where she did, there would be no escape from either the front door or the garage, and with Yang where she was, the opportunity for stable conversation presented itself.

"Yang," the Faunus sighed. Her tone was even and neutral, a purposeful difference from her prior agitation, though her disappointment was a noise unable to be contained. "Please, just let me help."

She was met with a wild look. The thoughts within Yang's mind must have reached a fever pitch, for she sent a red gaze at the girl who loved her most. However, this hue was not founded in anger and iridic manifestation but instead in fear and bloodshot reluctance. She was on the verge of crying. "Leave me alone, Blake. Just let me go."

"No. I can't do that. There's something wrong, and you and me need to fix it."

With a vehement shake of her head, the girl argued, "I'm the one who needs to be fixed. But I can't be. I'm just a dumb blonde who can't get it through her thick skull that she's not cut out for domestic life—that she's not cut out for you."

"What are you saying? Dumb? Not cut out for me? Yang, you're—"

"A huntress. That's all I am; that's all I ever will be. I'll never be a girlfriend, a mother, a friend; I'll just run off before any of that happens." She looked around the room, scanning the television and curtains to either side to find a nonexistent exit, but her regretful gaze found her partner again. "I'm bad at everything else I do. That game we played? I quit. That trip we went on? I made your mom hate me. I make fun of my sister and I'm insensitive towards you, and whenever I mess something up, I mess it up even more because I don't know how to fix it. And now you want to fix me? I can't be fixed, Blake, because I'm just one big mistake."

"What are you talking about?" These words could not have come from Yang. "You aren't a mistake. In fact, you've fixed more mistakes than I can remember. If it wasn't for you, I would have been chasing Torchwick while everyone else was at the dance—I could have gotten myself killed if not for you."

Yang closed her eyes. "Just stop it. You're lying to yourself."

How had she come to this? There had been a point in their friendship where Yang had avoided talking about her regretted past, but now she openly disgraced even her greatest endeavors. Within her mind, this relationship was reduced to a series of villainous mistakes and the sisterhood she had cherished and clung to now amounted to afterthoughts of her own misery. Likewise, Blake had begun to suspect that her presence had disrupted an already dysfunctional family and caused Yang to lose her balance.

However, where the two differed was in conviction. Blake knew for certain that her doubts were far from true, being that Weiss' third-party observations had noticed numerous benefits from their relationship, while Yang had no such confidante. Instead, she had led herself to believe her own nonexistent shortcomings were at fault.

"Maybe I am," Blake said confidently. "But so are you. If there's anyone to fault, it's the both of us. We caused this, not you or me. Either one of us might have played a role in its beginning, but this pain is only kept alive because we won't let it go."

A noise was suddenly made behind the Faunus, interrupting the heated stare she shared with Yang. Bootless and cloakless, Ruby and Weiss had arrived upon this civil attempt with not a drop of rain to be found upon either of their uneasy expressions. Between them, Weiss seemed the calmer, although this was likely a ploy to hide her actual sentiments from her partner, who shivered with her fear.

"She's not lying, Yang. You aren't a mistake!" Ruby rushed across the room in an attempt to hug her sister but stopped just as quickly upon seeing her take a step back. Tears bordered the blonde's vision, and all too soon the same effect found the girl in red. "If you're a mistake, then so am I! Dad's never around to help and uncle Qrow's not much better, but you're always there for me and you always help. Yeah, we could probably do better about making our beds and stuff, but just because we're not good at some stuff doesn't mean we're not good!"

"But I ran off on your first day at Beacon. I ran off with friends who ditched me as soon as they found their teams. How's that fair to you?"

"Well…" Ruby sighed. She looked down, tried to find an answer, and sighed again. "It wasn't. I didn't know what to do after you left, and I was lost. But I probably needed that, to be honest, because if you didn't leave, I wouldn't've found Weiss…or Blake! Team RWBY wouldn't even be a thing if you just held my hand all day. You left me, yeah, and I didn't like it at first, but you've always known when to throw me in the deep end. And that's what makes you a great sister. You don't have to do things for me to teach me something."

The young girl tried a smile, mired in uncertainty. "And you're not weak. Yang, I don't know anybody stronger than you. You took what happened to mom better than dad ever did and you still wanted to be a huntress even after what happened. It's been just you and me for like ten years, and it's been awesome the entire time."

Seeing that Yang was still yet oppositional, Ruby stepped forwards, arms outstretched. Unfortunately, her efforts only pushed her sister further away.

"Honestly," Weiss wearily sighed. "Is there anything that will convince you you're wrong?"

With an anticipatory wince, Ruby lowered her arms as Blake turned another glare on the heiress. "Weiss!" the young girl groused. "Not the time!"

"Isn't it, though? Your sister's in an upset, and no one is deigning to take responsibility for their own actions or the team's." Her expression softened towards her partner, if marginally, as she assured an ideal resolution. But although the heiress saw herself as the likely hero in this turmoil, Ruby understood as well as Blake did that the situation called for tact and empathy instead of what Weiss had to offer.

The young girl continued to watch her girlfriend warily. "Yang, you are wrong. The only one here who thinks negatively of you is me, and if you could even begin to see Ruby or Blake as hating you, then you truly are out of touch with the situation."

Yang paused, scowling for a moment as she, ideally, considered her teammates' analyses, but, as had been expected, she shook her head. "What do you know? You weren't even there!"

"Nor would I have wanted to be. But I've stood beside you and Blake all summer, and I can say without a doubt that these assumptions you're making are nothing more than lies. It would take an incredible effort to shrug Ruby off and I believe Blake is just as sick in the head as you are. Frankly, I doubt you'd have the ability to alienate one of them, let alone both, even if you tried.

"Perhaps you're not as smart as they say you are—I for one believe it—but to claim this as a detractor is just needless pessimism. Look around you and consider the company you hold. I've never met anyone more loyal than Ruby, and Blake spent a majority of her life remediating terrorists. You could set fire to an orphanage or strike me down or even both, and I'd hazard to guess they wouldn't bat an eye." The blonde's defenses had slackened, leaving only sheepish reverence as her senses fled from Weiss' rhetoric. Somehow this was working, this direct approach, and though Blake was hesitant of the speaker and her tone, this change in attitude would be welcomed.

"It's disgusting how well you fit in with them. Since the day we became a team, it was always myself against the three of you—you with your antics and schemes to frustrate and get under my skin. But if enmity isn't a bonding agent." She sent a glare to the other two girls in the room, an obvious lie to those who knew her but an airtight façade for the girl in yellow. "Even if you have changed, even if you are weaker, I doubt they care. Me? You haven't changed from what I can see, but that's coming from someone who cares little for your emotional wellbeing.

"In fact, I don't care what you think. What I do care about is how my friends are trying to help you and how you are running away from them." The heiress glowered at her sulking teammate, once again rousing Ruby's unease and pulling a teetering lilac gaze her way. "Really, you haven't changed since the moment we met you. You're stubborn, impulsive, myopic, and reasoning with you is still like reasoning with a brick wall. But I'm not giving the wall nearly enough credit; a brick could never be as insecure as you are."

All at once, every shred of hope Blake had fell away. Weiss' glare was met with one of greater fervor as a scarlet heat bore into her, bloodshot and broken. Warmth filled the room quickly, bringing with it an unmistakable sheen to the concerned three as the lights in the room glowed brighter and brighter.

"Insecure? Just who do you think you are, princess?" Yang all but growled. "You chose to stay the summer. I didn't ask you, Blake didn't ask you, and if I know anything about you, I doubt Ruby even asked you. But now that you're here, all you talk about is how we're inconveniencing you. Like my stuff matters to you. So, what's your game? What do you want out of this?"

Weiss kept her tone even but argued back nevertheless. "What I want out of this? Quiet. But it's not about—"

"Oh! It's not about you? How noble. You know, you might actually come off as a decent person if you didn't have your head so far up your—"

"Will you just listen for two seconds, you blubbering twit?"

Blake shut her eyes in agony. Weiss and Ruby were the only ones who could take care of this; they had been the only ones to affect her girlfriend so far. But she had also wanted to add something, perhaps defend Yang or support Weiss, but she knew neither what to say nor how to say it. Rather than siding with either, the girl in black chose to focus on the rains as best she could, escaping from the world around her and trying to find some sort of momentary peace which might lead her to a solution. Unfortunately, the strained ambiguity of the situation would come to a regrettable end with Weiss' continuance.

"Or are you just going to cry because you still can't get over a little argument?"

"Weiss! Enough!"

The two of red and white turned to Blake, wide-eyed and uncertain of where this shout had come from. Yang turned to her partner, too, and though her scarlet hue did remain, the look she gave the Faunus was by no means a glare. The four simply stood there for a moment, silenced by the sudden command while Blake, herself, fought to maintain a threatening demeanor. Fortunately, no further argument arose from this unruly bunch, although Ruby did blink after a while to notice the heated glances Weiss and Yang were sending each other.

The young girl stepped between the furious two, a rare stern expression meeting them and demanding immediate cooperation. "Yang! Power down!" The blonde's gaze was just as defiant as the heiress'. "Yang!" she repeated and was then met with a full blast of heat. Nevertheless, Ruby glared at her sister, eyes brimming with tears and brows hunched low in barely concealed fear.

Suddenly, however, Yang noticed who she was directing her energy towards and frightfully reined in her aura. The room's temperature and lights fell rapidly alongside the colors in her eyes. Her anxious stance slumped, her contorted lips fell to a prior frown, and with a single, disappointed order, all the remaining fight in Yang evaporated.

Ruby then turned her scowl upon Weiss, opting for a mere shake of her head instead of the words which were by this point unnecessary. Breathlessly, the heiress offered an apology and received an honest, if not exasperated acceptance from her partner.

The girl in red did not seem happy in the least. One could never hope to play the role of arbitrator between a member of her own family and a significant other. But she was the team's leader, and it was her solemn duty to rise above her girlfriend and older sister to demand order despite their naturally lighthearted dynamic. Command during combat was one thing, but leadership, like Blake had long since known, was an ever-taxing demon. She could see it in Ruby's eyes: doubt in her decision's correctness, fear of what she had done to her relationships, and reluctance to move forwards. In this lattermost sense, she fought back tears to give Blake the chance to say something, the Faunus accepting with a nod.

As Blake glanced over at her partner, Ruby moved to her own, offering no words on the matter before clinging to Weiss' form and letting her tears fall against a jacketed shoulder. Though it was likely a heartwarming scene when Weiss hugged back, Blake could not watch; between the sentiments they shared and the words she needed to say, something this lachrymose would only slow her drive. She instead turned fully towards her partner and moved to stand before her, making absolutely certain Yang's gaze could not travel anywhere else.

"Yang?" she asked, standing not three feet away from the girl. The diffident glances she was given, although painful to watch, bade her speech. "Let's talk. Just you and me. No blame, no predictions, no speculation, just talking about what is. Is that all right?"

The taller girl's gaze flitted to the curtains beside the television, but Blake was quick to intercept. A hand was placed upon Yang's cold cheek to refocus her. They simply watched each other for a moment, saying nothing but hoping for something to change. After a pause, Yang sighed and nodded. "Yeah. All right."

"Good." Odd as it was, a smile tugged at Blake's lips. Of course, it never amounted to anything more than her loss of frown, but it felt good to make this sort of progress. It gave hope.

"Yang, I am happy with you," she promised. "All these injustices you think you've committed against me really don't hurt anymore. Our argument was unfortunate and it did hurt at the time, but we already resolved it and got back together. And my mom? She does like you; she told me in confidence. I have a feeling she does trust you but won't actually say it yet because that's just how she is. And whatever happened between you and Weiss is between you and Weiss, not you and me.

"The only time you hurt me is when you're in pain. You have every right to feel the way you do, and the fact that you're feeling this way shows definite progress, but when you blame yourself for things that weren't your fault, it makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong." Blake brushed her hand against her partner's jaw, down her shoulder, across the retracted, cooling gauntlet, and into her waiting grip. "But I don't think I have been. And I know you haven't, either. Still, I have to know: are you happy with me, too?"

Unfortunately, Yang took a moment to consider this. She looked conflicted, as though her heart and mind were sending disparate messages which only muddled the matter further. But at last she did say "Yes" and sighed as she looked away.

Regardless of its enthusiasm, her answer was honest. And Blake had known this since their first argument—Yang loved her and fought only to keep the darkness away. "I believe you," the Faunus replied. "I believe the reason why you're frustrated has something to do with keeping me happy. And whatever the reason is, I'm grateful you care about me that much. But this frustration needs to stop. Do you agree with that?"

"I…I'm sorry, Blake." A pleading look was sent her partner's way, no tears to be found but instead the accompanying quaver. "I don't want it to be this way, but—"

"I know. It's hard. But it only gets harder when we push each other away. Sometimes you have to take the hand offered to you and sometimes you don't, but right now's one of those times when you do. This relationship isn't supposed to be one-sided, but it has been feeling that way as of late."

For a moment, the blonde's eyes widened in dismay, leading Blake to clarify, "I've felt as if you were the only one allowed to lend a hand. Whenever I offered my assistance, you turned it down and said everything would be all right. And I knew it wouldn't, but I trust you. You've never been one to ask for help, even when you're in pain; but right now, you're surrounded, and I want to lend a hand if you'll let me. That's what a relationship entails: a back-and-forth instead of the selfishness the others showed you." Blake paused. "Yang, are you happy with our relationship?"

"Yes." Her response came quickly. Whether this was meant to appease Blake with enthusiasm or leave no doubts about her feelings, it was doubtless Yang told the truth.

"And do you want to continue it?"

"What?"

"Am I overbearing? Am I…difficult? Would you have rather found someone more talkative and experienced to be your partner?"

"I-I don't know what you're trying to say."

"I have faults, too, Yang. You shouldn't hold me on a pedestal when I'm in just a rough a shape as you are. And I shouldn't do that to you, either. You don't think you're smart enough, I find myself conversationally inept. I think I'm a coward, you see yourself as weak. Whether or not any of that's true is negligible; by all means, it probably isn't, but we still bear the effects of it."

There was something in those lilac eyes that told of revelation. Yang had listened to her partner's shortcomings before, but it was only now that she likely compared them to her own. She had seen Blake as perfect just as Blake saw her the same, and although this did not remove her want of blame, some level of understanding was made possible.

"We're projecting these faults on to each other," Blake said. "Because you think you're not strong, you feel a need to maintain a smile and buy everything for me. You don't have to do any of that, but, all the same, I don't have to agree with every plan you conceive just to prove I'm brave. I like you for who you are, not because you're invincible or because you're well-read but because you're supportive and fun to be around. And I hope you like me for who I am, too."

"I do, Blake. You're, like, the other side of me, and I'm sorry if I—"

"No blame," the Faunus reminded. With a sigh, Yang acquiesced. "I know you do, which is why I'm asking this. The problem we're facing now is that you don't think I like you because of some obscure mistakes, when in truth I still do. I do still love you, Yang, just like Ruby does, and no amount of personal shortcoming will ever change that. But it's hard for us to get close to you. These days, it seems like we've done something terrible to earn your frustration, and even though we know that isn't true, we have no way to make sure.

"I want us to go on, but in order for that to happen, we need to speak to each other clearly. If something's wrong, don't say it's fine. I know how you feel about me and I know you want to do better, but I need to hear that you want this relationship to continue."

Perhaps this had not been the best way to word the argument. It was abundantly clear Yang did want to stay, but between the hurried glances she sent around the room and the avoidance of physical contact, Blake needed her to focus. Fortunately, this wording proved successful to some degree as it did result in Yang refocusing herself, if not in the anticipated way.

The girl nodded. "Yeah, I want us to stay together. Really, I do. It's just…all that's been going on, all this…nothingness…It's just not right. At first, I knew what was going on, but then I didn't. I can just see things turning out badly even though you say they won't, and…it hurts. It hurts knowing I'm doing something this wrong. But I want to stay with you, Blake. You're the best friend I've ever had, and I really mean that. But I don't wanna mess it up."

"I can't accept that as an excuse." It was harsh, but it needed to be said, Blake believed. "I consider you my best friend, too. I know I don't act like it, but you're invaluable to me, and if I just let you go, then what sort of friend would I be?"

It was then that a rustling noise sounded behind the Faunus. Ruby had pulled herself from Weiss and moved to stand beside her black-clad teammate. "What do you mean 'let her go?'" Her frightened gaze turned towards the blonde. "Yang?"

The temperature in the room began to steadily decline as Yang's eyes trained on her sister's horror. All notions of anger and insecurity fell away to wordless pleas from both girls. But as there was nothing left to possibly say, all Yang could do was internally cower and let her aura fluctuate in this yet unprecedented way. There was no heat to her form, no zeal in her eyes, only reciprocated fear which led to this inevitable chill.

Blake sighed. "She wanted to run. I don't know why or where, but she's been looking around the room for some kind of escape ever since we got back."

Ruby was floored. "What?" she yelped. "Yang! Please don't go! We wanna help you. Just tell us what's wrong!"

Even as the young girl grasped her sister's hand desperately, Yang did not react. In truth, Blake had wanted to be proven wrong in her observation and hear that her partner was willing to talk, but this expression proved undeniable guilt. She did mean to run. What had caused this idea or what her intermittent plans were meant little by this point. All that mattered was that she still wanted to run but had been caught prematurely.

Silently, the Faunus caught her partner's distant expression. She did not smile nor did she frown, instead bracing for the consequences of her own words. "Yang," she began, finding feeble lilac staring back at her. This had nearly stopped her efforts, but some level of responsibility needed to be taken lest the team be forever burdened. "If you want to leave, tell me. I do love you and I always will, but if you're uncomfortable, I will respect your decision. But if you don't want to leave, then don't. I know you better than I've known anyone else, and I'm almost certain you don't want to leave; but at the same time, you intend to.

"You want to run because you think it will give me space. But it won't." Yang looked away, pulled her hand from Ruby's own, and took a troubling step backwards. In kind, Blake looked down to the floor between them. "If you run away now, it will only break us—you, me, Ruby, even Weiss. I still haven't lived down what happened in the White Fang, and even if my decision to leave might have been a good one, I think about it every day. And I don't want you to deal with that regret. Without you, I doubt I'd ever feel safe again. But if you really want to go, just…do me a favor and let me know first."

She had tried to keep her composure, but tears were unavoidable now. Rather than sobbing as she hitch in her throat wanted, however, Blake remained strong and faced her partner with steely convictions. Yang did not want to break up or leave her and Ruby alone, and even if Blake knew this with the all of her heart, it was uncertain if Yang believed it, herself. As such, the Faunus would fight to stay beside her and keep her home. The promise of fidelity she made was now a doctrine to base her arguments upon—no matter what Yang said or did, Blake would be there to take care of her.

The blonde closed her eyes as the temperature of the room dipped even further. "I don't want to," she said between grit teeth. "But I have to."

"No." Despite her best efforts, Blake's tears began their descent. "No, you don't have to."

"I do."

"You don't." No longer was the young Faunus stoic and unmoved. Her fists clenched in futile opposition as anger laced its way into her tone. "You never have to run."

"Yes," Yang suddenly shouted, "I do!"

With this, the temperature dropped exponentially, removing whatever warmth was left entirely. Ruby and Weiss staggered back while Blake and Yang stood apart, one with eyes clouded by tears and the other with eyes defiantly shut. It was painful, this cold, and no amount of wishful thinking could deny the all-over pinch was of Yang's manifestation. Nevertheless, Blake stood her ground against the nipping stillness and moved to contend their bond. However, the cold came in debilitating bursts as Yang began to speak first, body shivering at its own destruction.

"You don't get it, Blake. I'm not safe to be around." This was a half-truth in her mind, an obvious lie but a by now ingrained belief. "I'm not funny, I'm not strong; all of this is just an act. I'm a poor excuse for a sister, an even worse girlfriend, and if I don't even know who I am, how can you trust me with something like your life?"

"You're none of those things!"

"Then why are we like this?" Yang reopened her eyes and grimaced at her partner. "It's not because of you or Ruby, and even if Weiss started it, this isn't because of her. It's because of me—because I can't keep my emotions in check and because you guys suffer. Blake, I don't want to hold you back. You could be a whole lot smarter if you weren't stuck with someone as dumb as me. And if I would've given Ruby room to be herself, she would've made so many more friends."

The look in her eye screamed of the utmost confidence, but it was clear that this confidence was without base and that such an intensity proved only a vulnerability. There was no stifling effect, no limiting factor which Yang assumed. In fact, it was almost certain that Ruby would not have achieved this level of leadership and amicability without her sister's guidance. It became apparent this argument was yet another instance of projection; that the stresses of responsibility and resultant failure had taken their toll. And now that Yang had little energy left to offer these hindsight demons, this toll would be collected from her self-worth.

"Sometimes the only way to grow is to take the hard way. Sometimes protection just isn't good enough." She shook her head and looked down, resisting Blake's worry to again wallow. "I don't wanna hurt you guys anymore—I don't wanna argue with you or burn you or get you killed. I just want you to be happy. And safe. And if that means giving you room to grow, then I'll go."

Her voice cracked with this final word. Unfortunately, Blake heard every fluctuation in tone and felt disgusted at herself. Moreover, it was apparent Ruby and even Weiss felt similarly from their subdued, averted glances.

"But what about you?" asked Blake, clinging to whatever she could in order to keep this discussion alive. "You need to grow with us, Yang. We're a team. We're a family! You can't just break these bonds because you think you're a weak link. It's our job to help you improve, and we can't do that if you don't let us."

"No!" the blonde reluctantly spat. "You guys should be helping each other. This isn't about me." Behind the Faunus, Weiss swiftly took Ruby's hand and squeezed it. "You guys just don't need me anymore. You can find another—"

"But I need you!" Despite her frustration, Blake could not bear the next words coming out of her partner's mouth. "I promised I'd never leave you, and you promised the same to me. Doesn't that mean anything?"

Yang was silent for a moment. It did mean something, and Blake knew this well, but something far more powerful than honor drove the golden girl now. "I…I'm doing this because I love you, Blake. I need to go. I can't hurt you anymore, and if that means breaking our promise, then I'll do it."

She was scared, shivering with a hand clutching her bandaged wound.

"I don't want to, and I really can't stand it, but I have to. You deserve better than me—all of you. And I don't deserve you."

Her mind was not lost but confused. This rationale had a warpath to carve and would sever any and all ties for the uncited benefit of the world.

"I'd be better off somewhere else. I can't stay here with you. There are people out there that hurt every day, and if I stay here, they're only gonna hurt more."

Tears clouded her vision as her arm was gripped in her vice. A clap of thunder shook the house, bringing with it a marked increase to the surrounding cold and an unnoticeable dimness to the lights around them.

"Please," the adamant girl whimpered, "just let me go."

She was frightened, alone, and so firmly convinced by her own irrationality that foolhardy confidence had led her astray. The younger girl seemed so small now, so moved by her own lies that Blake could not help but see herself. With another crash, the lights flickered out, removing Ruby and Weiss from conscious existence and leaving not two but instead three standing in the center of the room.

"Sweetheart," Cole soothed, "it's all right. There's no need to get mad at yourself."

"Yes, there is!" Blake shouted in reply. "Faunus are out there getting killed right now and there's nothing I can do about it! They need my help, dad. They need me."

"Blake, be reasonable. The White Fang has no use for girls your age." Her mother was the calmest of the three, keeping her composure easily despite her obvious frustration. Both she and Cole seemed almost youthful now—distressed, no doubt, but lacking in their grey hairs and crow's feet. "You'll be turned away as soon as you meet them, if not killed immediately. They want soldiers, not protestors."

"No, they don't!" The younger Blake waved a flyer in her hand. "They're a peace group! They want peace! I want peace! They don't kill people, mom, and they don't kill kids."

The look Lilian gave her was quietly incredulous. How could this girl, so hesitant and mannered, come under this indoctrinating spell so quickly? She had seemingly always concerned herself with the differences between the moral right and wrong, but this adamancy had been a much more recent development, born of the persuasions and unrelated offense of the propaganda pages stacked high in her bedroom. "That isn't true," Lilian bluffed. "They don't care who wanders into their woods; they will hurt anyone who is unfit and unable to serve in their army."

"Then I'll get stronger—a-and they're not an army!" She was blind to her own irony, little fists balled over her flyer as she claimed pacifism. "I know they'll want me, mom. They'll take anybody they can get. Faunus out there are being hurt, and the White Fang needs a lot of people to help them. But they don't have a lot, so they need me!"

"Oh, Blake." Her father stepped forwards, kneeling before her and smiling softly. "They do, they really do, but just not right now. You're too young right now—you still have school and all your friends there."

She looked away in a huff. "I don't have friends."

"That's not very nice, Blake. What would those girls think if you just left them one day and didn't tell them where you're going? I think they'd be pretty sad, right?"

At such a young age and station, anger was a rare occurrence for the girl. However, she tried her hardest to scowl and seem aloof against her confusion. "They're too young to understand. I tried to tell them, but they didn't get it."

Cole laughed. "Well, I'm your dad, and I don't even get it. The White Fang's a grown-up club and they won't let you go to school. If you go there and join, how are you gonna grow up to help them?" He reached out with both hands and took Blake's own, relaxing her fists and visibly calming her expression. "They aren't going to be very nice if you're not a grown-up, sweetheart. They aren't even nice to me and mom. If you wanna join them when you're a little older and grown up, that's okay, but I think you're a little too young right now."

There was a moment of thankful consideration on Blake's part. As far as Lilian knew, her husband's words had caused an effect. Of course, she did not want her daughter to run away with a group of radicals at any point in her life, but this ultimatum seemed agreeable for the moment. However, as a shock of thunder boomed across the town of Sierra, a furious look consumed Blake's features.

She tore her hands from Cole's grasp. "No!" she screamed. "I don't care if I'm not a grown-up! They need me! Humans are hurting Faunus every day and it's my duty to fight them! They're at war with us, dad, and we aren't fighting back. They locked us up in Menagerie, took away our rights, and hunt us down just because we're different! I gotta join them, dad. People are gonna get hurt if I don't."

A coarse sigh pulled the two from their one-sided conversation. "Times have changed, Blake," stated her mother. "The Faunus are indeed seen as mutants and beasts to humans, but this has nothing to do with the way they treat us now. We've integrated with them, found common ground. You don't have to look any further than your own friends at school. Do they ever hurt you? Do they ever call you names?"

Blake was silent to this, angry because she could not say yes.

"The only group left to claim humans war against us is the White Fang. They're the only people left who say we're being hunted. Society still has a long way to go, but the kingdoms are far past genocide." Lilian kept an even expression as she stared down her daughter. Regardless of what she could say, the end seemed to be inevitable, but perhaps parental naïveté could speak to a child's own. "If you join them, we will never have the chance to see each other again. If you join them, you will find they are the army we claim them to be and much, much more. And if you join them, you will find that you will either conform to their wanted genocide or be killed just like everyone else."

Something had been said to bring tears to the young girl's eyes. Although Blake was never one to cry, she did fight to shake off her emotion; though, it was doubtful this reaction came from the comment on separation. Realistically, she found offense in her mother's words just as she had found it in the organization's rhetoric. She was bound to them, enthralled by their motives, and no matter how irrational their purpose was, Blake found reason to fight those who dissented.

Cole leaned forwards and wrapped her in a hug. Perhaps only instinctually, she clung to him, too, and let her tears fall against his shoulder. "It's okay. It's okay," he assured. "I know you want to help them out, and that's very brave of you. But just wait a bit. You don't have to rush into anything like this yet, Blake. If you still wanna help them later—"

"I wanna help them now!" She squirmed in his grasp. "Just let me go! I wanna help them now!"

He held on tighter. "Blake, it's okay."

"No!" she screamed. "Let me go! I've gotta help them!"

Suddenly, the young girl pushed away, freeing herself from her father's grasp and taking a step back to glower at the two. There was a wild look in her eye, as though she saw her parents as enemies. It was doubtful she felt this way truly, but the White Fang had indeed sunk its claws into her.

"I've gotta join them 'cause it's what I wanna do. There's a lot of bad stuff that goes on around here, and nobody does anything about it but the White Fang. I wanna do something, mom. I wanna get rid of the bad people. But the only way I can do that is to help the White Fang. I don't care if they're mean to me, I've gotta help." With tears streaming down her face, she pleaded, "Please, just let me go."

Frantically, Blake grabbed her packed belongings and rushed past her parents. They tried to stop her on multiple occasions and in varying ways as they chased and pleaded with her out past their front lawn, but at last she would leave them, eluding their efforts and running off into the thunderous night without a tear to be shed.

"Just let me go," Yang begged. "I don't wanna hurt you anymore. I don't want to weigh you guys down."

They were two sides of the same deluded coin. No matter how factual or understanding those around them were, Blake and Yang would rely solely on themselves for moral guidance. This was cynicism in a most effacing form which defined their respective distances and wants, telling each other they were independent and strong, and thereby lying. Blake wanted permanence, Yang wanted stability, and although they had worked hard and found their success erstwhile this summer, now saw their contradicting fall. It was a contest of self-deprecation, and although Blake had since learned to not compete as to leave her past in the past, Yang insisted she was trouble.

But this was far from the truth. More than anyone else, Yang was a renewable source of stability. She could be brash, impulsive, crude in many ways, but she was consistent in these qualities and made every day fun and rewarding. This was why Blake fought to keep her. It seemed that through Yang, she would always achieve her goals and that Yang could likewise find emotional stability in her. Logically, it was clear why they should remain; however, logic was foregone by this point, leaving only raw emotion which Blake was charged to sift through.

With a sigh, she took back her prior arguments. This moment did not require appeasement or understanding but instead support—this was what Blake had not received from her parents. "Yang." She caught the blonde's lavender orbs. "I agree. I don't think you're holding me back, but it's obvious you're concerned. If you need to clear your mind and set things straight, go ahead. But before you do, just hear me out."

"What?" Ruby squeaked. "Blake, no! Why—"

Quietly, as not to draw any more attention away from the Faunus, Weiss shushed her partner, giving her a critical, if not reassuring look. Blake did have a plan, though it was likely to end poorly. Her tears had since dried and her stance had grown stronger, but even though these comparisons between the present and the past gave the young Faunus hope, Yang's life was still on the line. She had found her own façade to convince the frightened blonde, but beneath this mask was a just as urgent fear and weakness.

Yang did not say anything in reply. However, the temperature rose a negligible bit and these plaintive eyes continued to cry out for Blake. This was Yang's permission.

"I understand why you want to leave. Trust me, I've been in the same position more than a few times. But I'm not proud of it." Blake frowned at her partner, not reprimanding her or conveying a disappointed message but instead revealing her own thoughts on the matter. "I made a mistake by running. Leaving behind everything in Sierra was something I shouldn't have done. I had a couple friends, a promising education, and a home tucked away from all the world's hate.

"But I learned something by running to the White Fang—many things, actually. There are truths you'll learn about yourself when you're on your own, hard truths that you may never be able to swallow, but those won't compare to the knowledge that you left others' lives in your wake. My parents, the people under my command, and even you felt the effects of my fears. I learned a lot from my decision, and I don't regret my time with the White Fang, but if I could take back everything I did to everyone I've ever met, I would. Running is a mistake that taxes everyone around you, Yang. And if you want to go, you have to understand that Ruby, your dad, Beacon, and even Weiss will feel betrayed."

A breath caught in Yang's throat.

"But I'd be a hypocrite to condemn you for it," Blake continued, expression calm despite her trepidation. "Just know that if you choose to leave, I will follow you. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I'll follow you. That was our promise, and even if you feel you have to break it, I won't." Suddenly, the blonde's shock turned to confusion and this confusion to fear. "We're a team. If you weigh me down, I pick you up, and no matter what, you will have my support."

Blake had expected relief, some sign of acceptance from her partner that everything would be all right. Unfortunately, Yang disagreed.

"No, just—No! You really don't get it, do you?" She turned away, pacing back to the far wall and running a tired hand through her hair. "I don't want to do this—I mean, why would I want to leave you guys behind? It's just that…It's just that you guys need me gone. There isn't anything else you need from me anymore; I can't teach Ruby anything and I can't back you up, Blake. You guys are good on your own. I'm…I'm gonna end up hurting you again if I can't shape up, and with the way things are looking, I'm not going to."

She turned back around in a mad rush, eyes burning a scarlet hue as the temperature dropped even further, bringing it to that prior level of despondent stillness. "This isn't about me, Blake! This isn't about you or Ruby or Weiss or anybody else. This is about us, all of us. You guys deserve better and I need to get gone, so that's why we have to break up!"

The three were suddenly stunned. "E-Excuse me?" Blake stammered, unsure of what she just heard.

Yang's eyes widened in instant regret, eyes falling from red to lilac, but swiftly they tightened to uphold her statement. "Yeah, that's right. We're done." Her voice was weak, manifestly crumbling with every syllable. "I'm just a bad influence on you, and you know it. I get you into trouble, get you hurt, get you sick, and the most I can do is say I'm sorry. But that's not good enough, not good enough for you."

The blonde lowered her head in shame. With this came the impossible dimming of the room's lights. The air had grown stiff and tense, bringing the Faunus' rapid breaths to instant frost as she stared agape at the girl before her. Without question, this was surely irrationality speaking on Yang's behalf. She cared too much for her partner to cut ties this abruptly. But as the girl in black reached out, caught between a hopeful nightmare and torrential reality, her girlfriend swatted her away.

"No! Just let it go, Blake! Just…Just let me go."

Ruby and Weiss were speechless, the latter simply holding on to the now inconsolable former as Ruby openly cried into her partner's jacket. With every sob from her sister and every shiver from her partner, Yang grew ever tenser.

What had been a slight dimming of the lights surrounding turned to intermittent flickers, lamps and consoles turning on and off as the energy of the room was quite literally pulled into her. As though she were a vacuum, all the warmth and sound in the room drained quickly and without a murmur as the house grew colder and movement slowed to a physically pained pace. The tears in Blake's eyes stung as they quickly froze over and the air in her lungs escaped entirely when at last the power went out.

In utter darkness, only Blake could watch the heaving, rasping form of Yang Xiao Long. Nothing had worked—not Weiss' strategy, not her parents' wisdom, not even her own affections—and now they had come to this, whatever this was. Had they broken up? Had they lost their strongest teammate? It appeared so, but Blake would not believe it—she simply could not! After all this time spent breaking out of her shell and learning to be a natural member of society, this was to be Blake's end? It was absurd, disgraceful, logically and morally wrong, yet here they both stood!

She was confused, aghast, and her stomach felt as if it were filled with lead as she whispered, "Y-Yang?"

The girl's eyes snapped open, revealing a sight which would thereafter haunt the Faunus' every decision. She was not met with the warm lilac she had come to love, not the furious reds which spoke of a furious life, but instead she found a deep, glowing, ruined blue which seemed to pierce her guilty heart. "Don't," said Yang sharply, meeting her partner's gaze and casting a soft light across the room. "Just don't."

These eyes were wintry and abhorrent, but even still, Blake was drawn to the sapphires she had only glimpsed before. There was a deep longing to them, a muffled cry for help hidden far beneath unbridled emotion. "Please," Blake whimpered, gasping for air as the room's energy continued to drain. "I love—"

"I know," Yang managed. "I know. I know. I know. But you just have to trust me. I'm not good for you. Any of you."

Out of the four members of Team RWBY, Yang was the only one unmoved by her cold. Ruby and Weiss were left to tremble in this atmosphere while Blake stood her ground bravely, ignoring the pain in her joints and the burning of her heart. However, although she was brave, she could not speak. All she could do was watch as Yang clenched her fists and primed her gauntlets, red shells sliding into each of the chambers.

"I've made a lot of bad mistakes, and I can't take any of them back. I…I ruined all of your lives. But without me here, maybe you'll grow up better."

She clenched her fists again, another couple red shells chambering. What she meant to do with them, Blake did not dare predict. Glowing blues flitted sporadically as it was made apparent that emotionality had taken over. This was and was not Yang, the true girl hidden behind the wall of smiles but a cruel mimicry of who she actually was. She clenched her fists again and yet another two reds were loaded.

"Don't forgive me. Don't think of me. Just let me go."

With a final clench, two icy blue shells were chambered in Ember Celica, and it was only then that Blake knew what was to come.

Yang gave one last glance at her teammates, lingering on her sister and now former girlfriend for a wanted few seconds before brushing past them with tears at the corners of her eyes. However, as much as Blake wanted to reach out and stop her, she found herself physically unable, arrested by the cold and enervated by Yang's walking well. The blonde seemed to fight against looking back, but as she pulled aside the curtain behind Blake and revealed a door to the raining night, her blue eyes gave a shamed apology. And when she opened this door and let in the muted sheets of rain, she shook her head and promptly abandoned her team.

Upon her exit, the lights of the room flickered back to life. But before Blake could even breathe again, she turned and bolted after her partner, stumbling across the theatre threshold and out into the storm.

In her panic, the Faunus' hearing was limited, leaving only the hissing rains and her own heavy breaths. But as she looked to her right, she saw clearly Yang's golden mane rushing down their current porch and her boots crashing on the patio below. "Yang!" she shouted. "Yang!" Despite her choked desperation and the volume which had easily overpowered the thrumming weather, Blake proved unable to stop her.

She continued to chase, sprinting across the remaining porch and leaping down to the patio as her lungs burned. However, she was forced to come to a stop when Yang turned a tearful eye on her and fired her weapons upon the grass, just before the tree line.

In a sudden, heartbreaking instant, the glacial blonde was sent rocketing into the air, her gifted ammunition severing this partnership in less than a second. She then fired again and then again as her height and speed increased with each wretched pop until she soared alongside the lightning and at last from Team RWBY's vision.

"Yang!" Ruby screamed, dashing past the slowing Faunus in a flurry of petals. "Yang, wait!" Bootless and cloakless, she ran across the grass, intending to somehow catch her airborne sister, but she soon stumbled and choked and dropped tiredly to her knees before the forest. Just as quickly, her leadership guise fell away to a hateful wail as the pops finally faded.

Blake could only stand there in shock. She had let Yang escape—she had let Yang make the same mistake she had. And it hurt. It burned every bone and moral of her being. Knowing that those shots and this flight could have been prevented by even greater bravery made her sick. She did not bother holding back her own sobs any longer, instead letting the tears in her eyes flow openly as she sniveled like the coward child she still was.

Yang was lost to them and Blake had broken their promise. There was no way she could follow her now, no possibility for reconnection. All she could do was stare in disbelieving awe as flashes of lightning illuminated the scorches beside Ruby.

Suddenly, the Faunus screamed, loudly and gutturally as she never had before and let emotion override every sensibility of her being. On instinct, she turned to the metal chair closest to her and kicked it, launching it into the central fireplace with a broken clatter. The same fate befell the chair right beside it and she continued to yell, growling until her voice turned hoarse and her only modes of expression were choked sobs and long-suppressed tears.

But her bleary eyes did fall on Ruby once again. Alone in the mudding grass, the young girl wept for her departed sister and deprived herself of the tenacity she once exhibited. It was at this point that Blake understood both she and her leader were mere children in the world and thus was the bond of their tenuous family. They did not know what to do, where to go, what to say. All they could do was cry when responsibilities reached an irreversible head. But they would not do it alone, she decided. They were as much a family as they ever were, and if Yang was no longer available to be the older sister, then Blake would bear her torch.

The young Faunus did not so much as try to hide her emotion as she dragged herself across the grass. Her hair was drenched, her ears clogged, and her breath had yet to return to her between Yang's singularity and her own gasping chokes. However, she moved for Yang's sake to kneel beside Ruby and hold her, sheltering the young girl from the rain and keeping her warm as best she could.

"Blake?" slurred Ruby, shaking like a leaf. "We have to go find her. We have to bring her back." The girl in black could offer no response. All she could do was help her leader to her feet and support her as they walked back to the house. "Please. We gotta! She's—She's all I have left, Blake. I need her—I can't do this again."

"I know," Blake whispered. "Me too."

As the thunder crashed around them and in frequent booms, only Blake's upper ears could flinch. Any lingering fears of burning factories or leadership failures were left to the wayside now that heartache took precedence. Yang was gone on a whim of self-destruction, leaving Ruby in her partner's inherited care. But neither the young girl crushing the Faunus' ribs nor the rain which battered them without end could distract Blake from Yang's flight.

How fast she had moved, how incredibly fast she had moved from the ground to the sky as if it had not been impossible. Blake could still see them, the haunting blue orbs, peering back at the girls they had each once been. And even as she and Ruby climbed the stairs to the porch, she could not bring herself to believe Yang was not joining them.

She was somewhere out there, braving the cold and trying to calm herself by herself. She was somewhere far, far away now, considering how many shots she had fired—Why had Weiss given those to her in the first place, anyway? It made no sense. Ammunition designed for escape? And at such a velocity? Yang could have gotten herself killed—she might well have gotten herself killed!

In lieu of closure, Blake found herself furious, a pointed scowl burning across her features as she shielded Ruby from the cold.

Weiss stood at the theatre's threshold, arms crossed and shivering as she avoided the encroaching rain. Occasionally, however, she would hazard to peer out, risking her hair to look for Ruby and Yang. But even the quiet concern evident in her features could not convince Blake she was harmless.

Ruby was helped through the door first and stopped upon reaching the dry warmth. Blake, on the other hand, immediately sent the heiress a reprimanding glare, long-fused temper having finally reached its end. She stepped forwards, knowing full well she tracked mud and defiled Yang's house because of this manipulative monster before her.

For a fraction of a second, the heiress' eyes widened in panic before she seemed to catch on to what was happening. Just as quickly, her right hand found its way to the handle of her blade as Blake lunged at her. That is, the Faunus had attempted to but found this plan thwarted by a spinning black glyph below her feet. Instead, she grit her teeth and reached for Gambol Shroud, wanting to do something rash in order to vent her frustrations, but again she found herself immobilized.

Weiss let out a relieved sigh as she gave her teammate a reproachful look. "What in the world has gotten into you?"

With no physical means left to attack the little snake, Blake resorted to shouting. "The shells!" she bellowed. "Why did you give her those shells?"

A snowy brow piqued in confusion. "Not for what she did, I can tell you that much." Despite this, Blake struggled against the glyph. Again, the heiress sighed. "They were a present, Blake. That was it. She liked to fly, so I gave her the means. But had I known she'd humiliate herself like this and run off with my card, I can guarantee you none of this would have happened."

The flame in the Faunus' eye flickered out; however, her distrust remained. "Then why aren't you crying? We just lost Yang!"

"Seriously? Do you expect me to cry over anyone, let alone her?"

"Well, you could at least show some empathy for once in your life!"

This received a challenge of a scoff. With one hand remaining fixed on her pommel and, consequently, with Blake still locked in this semblance stasis, Weiss moved away from the girl in black and looked down at her partner. Ruby had collapsed again, sitting broken against the nearest wall. Weiss had moved to shut the sliding door and now crouched beside the crying girl to run a hand through her hair.

"Don't get me wrong," she explained as Ruby pressed her tears to the presented palm. "Yang and I are hardly friends. I would gladly take the chance to be away from her for a week or two just so I could clear my mind. But do not assume I hold any form of contempt for her."

Her words were soft yet certain, forceful in a way which could not have been a lie. Had Blake the ability, she almost certainly would have hung her head in shame, letting her natural sadness wash away this fear.

"She was a part of this team. A part of this four-person team. Do you realize what that means, Blake—from a purely utilitarian view?" The Faunus was silent. Weiss simply combed Ruby's hair, her other arm too preoccupied with the glyph's maintenance to aptly comfort the young girl. "We lost our hardest hitter. We lost our strongest asset. Without Yang, we have little room for error now because if any of us catches a glancing blow, it's almost certain we will be out of the fight. Now, explain to me how I benefit from her cowardice."

"I…I'm sorry."

"I hope so." The heiress then released her pommel and the glyph, allowing Blake to collapse upon her weak convictions as Ruby was picked up.

Despite the rain and mud and tears staining the young girl's blouse, Weiss hugged her regardless, letting her leader's final links to strength fall away to a childish cry. But as Blake sat there, crumpled in the middle of her home, she found herself unable to block out these wails. Whatever had happened, the team was now broken. Ruby was rightfully upset, Weiss had taken the roles of unemotional mediator and emotional counsel, Blake was at an utter loss for what was, and Yang was gone. What had gone wrong? What could have gone right?

As the Faunus stewed there in her fog of regret, a brief interruption was heard amid the sullen sounds. Ruby had choked up, restraining herself to mere sniffles as she pulled away from her girlfriend. She stood in the center of the room, shaking her head and clenching her fists while her teammates turned to regard her. Whether this was out of respect for her most recent loss or simply duty which came with their team, Blake did not know. However, she found herself silenced as Ruby began.

"Guys," she struggled, "what do we do now?"

Weiss took a composing breath and offered, "I'll call the academy in the morning. I doubt anyone's there at this hour. We'll see what we can do about finding Blake a replacement and—"

"No!" Ruby shook her head. "We're not replacing Yang. We've gotta go find her!"

"Ruby, she's gone." Tact was a long since forgotten concept. Now Weiss could only offer factual condolences. Unfortunately, the Faunus blanched at her confidence. "She left us on her own terms and made it clear she isn't coming back. And even if she did choose to return, I doubt we'd want to carry the baggage she'll bring with her."

"No. Out of the question. She's my sister. She's my sister, Weiss! If I was out there, I know she'd be looking for me—just like how she went looking for Blake. You don't know Yang. She wants to stay, she's just…"

"Hurt."

The two of red and white looked down at Blake, Ruby nodding. "And that's why we have to find her. She's still a part of our team and she always will be, no matter what. She'd never give up hunting—ever. And I know she wouldn't give up on me or Blake, either."

"But she's given up on herself." Ruby hung her head as an ember of opposition flickered in Blake's mind. "She is not the same Yang you or I know; she's volatile, deaf. If we go out and find her, assuming we would, what would stop her from running again? She's not a huntress anymore, she's not confident in herself, and I'd wager that if we keep pressing the issue in this current state, we would have to deal with a far more irrevocable situation."

It took Ruby a moment to process this, these definite points which could sway one's opinion, but upon looking to Blake and her staunch, tearful expression, Ruby was forced to disagree. "No. It's a three-to-one vote. We're gonna go out there and find Yang and bring her back because that's what a family does. She's my family and she's yours, and if you aren't on board with this, then that's treason."

Ruby glared at her partner, eliciting an acquiescing sigh. "Fine. Have it your way." The heiress collected herself in the face of this defeat, gracing her expression with evenness as she strode across the room to offer Blake a hand. "Might as well. You two were always good together, and I'd hate to inhibit something nice."

At first, this received a skeptic look from the collapsed girl, an underlying judgment that Weiss had indeed meant to inhibit their team all during this summer. But her assistance was sincere, and thus Blake took the proffered hand to pull herself upright. She turned to Weiss, receiving a level frown, then to Ruby, finding a motivated solemnity, before she nodded and stepped into their meeting.

"I'll see what I can do about arranging a search party," Weiss said. "We'll have to wait some time before filing a missing persons report, but I can make a few calls to get the search started ahead of time."

"But we don't even know where she went."

"East," Blake offered, earning two disbelieving looks. "She jumped over the trees beside the patio. The patio is on the east side of the house."

Ruby argued, "She could've changed directions, though, right?"

"No," Weiss said. "She wasn't thinking clearly, and I doubt she had the wherewithal to cover her tracks." She held her gaze on Blake. "She went to a place of habit. A sanctuary."

"Um, I'm not sure what's east of here, but…there's gotta be somewhere, right? The only places I know Yang went to whenever she was upset were her room and…well, I don't know what bar, but she went to one a couple times."

Throughout this summer, Blake and Yang had travelled to many places. There were the monuments in the city, the statues Yang had shown her on their tours; she could be at the beach or esplanade as she wallowed in the surf and storm; or perhaps she had returned to the city to hide in one of its many alleyways. There was also the bar Ruby mentioned, though there were likely multiple dives judging by the boasts Yang had made, but these were marked off simply due to her current state—she was self-destructive, not outright destructive, and never meant to harm the lives of others.

This left a locale that was isolated, historically significant, and a sanctuary to the east.

Yang was out there somewhere, alone and in the dark. Blake did not believe anymore that she had meant to escape by destroying their relationship, and now that her team was committed to this searching effort, she felt strong again.

Although the list of possible sanctuaries was long and largely undefined, Blake somehow knew with the utmost certainty where Yang had hidden herself. Perhaps it was this exclusive knowledge which gave her strength or perhaps it was the hope that Yang would return to her safe, but whatever the case, the prior fear and tears in the Faunus' eyes disappeared for a look of ready determination.

"Weiss, how long will it take your driver to get here?" she asked.

The heiress gave her a placating look, disbelieving in a way but altogether meaningless to what was on the line. "Forty minutes, give or take. I don't know where he is in traffic or if he's returned, but—"

"Not good enough. Ruby, where does Yang keep her keys?"

"You mean the house keys? I think she kinda broke the spare."

Blake shook her head. "Bumblebee."

The young girl's eyes widened in relieved shock. "Wait. You know where she is?"

There was a moment of consideration wherein Blake's reply had been slated as "I think." However, her leader's hopeful expression pushed her to say, "Yes. And if I don't get to her soon, she might run again, this time with a clearer mind." She then looked to Weiss, who still seemed skeptical about this turn of events. "Don't call a search party. We don't need to turn this into a city-wide spectacle."

Surprisingly, the heiress nodded. "As you wish. However, if you don't turn up in the next hour or so…"

"Then make the calls. I'd rather it be me who talks her down than someone who doesn't know anything about her. She needs a friend right now, and I know that if any of your contacts came across her, they would turn away as soon as they saw her. Just let me have my chance, and if that doesn't work, make your calls."

Weiss accepted.

"All right, Blake. C'mon!" Ruby took the Faunus' hand and pulled, leading her out of the theatre and into the living room. "Where's Yang going? What's she doing there? Do you think she's all right? Blake, do you think she's gonna come home safe?" The three found their way into the kitchen, fluorescent lights flaring upon their entrance and the clocks of every reset appliance blinking after Yang's dour turn. Ruby released her teammate's hand and sped across the room, scrambling through a drawer and eventually pulling out a single key. She then tried a brave, albeit uncertain smile to energize the two before her. "All right. You ready, Blake?"

The group was struck silent. Blake looked down and away as Weiss stepped back so to remove herself from the impending conversation. Sadly, Ruby's smile fell.

"Blake?"

"Ruby, there are only two seats on the motorcycle. I have to go alone."

The young girl blinked. "Oh."

"I know you want to help, and trust me, you'll have the chance when Yang comes home, but I can't put you at risk. At the very least, she has to have someone to come back to, and if something bad happens on the road, I don't want to put us both in danger."

"O-Okay. But can you at least tell me where you're going?"

Blake shook her head. "I'm sorry. It's in your nature to care for Yang, and that's a very admirable trait to have, but I know you'd follow after me somehow and put your life at risk, too. And I know you're willing to, but that would only make Yang more upset—she'd get mad at me or Weiss for not keeping you home, and she might run off again." The girl in red looked down at the tiles below, resigning to her helpless position. "But I will bring her back. Remember that promise you made me make? The one about me having Yang's back?"

"You said you'd take care of her."

"Yeah. And that's what I'm doing now." Blake stepped forwards and crouched to meet Ruby at eye level. "I promise I'll bring Yang back. You've got my word. And as soon as she gets back, you'll have every opportunity in the world to take care of her. But right now, I need to go get her. Is that a fair trade?"

Her answer was found in the arms suddenly thrown around her neck. "Thank you, Blake," Ruby muttered into the Faunus' shoulder. "Thanks for being a great friend to my sister. You mean the world to her and—"

"I know," Blake soothed, rubbing her leader's back under Weiss' watchful eye. "And she loves you, too."

The two pulled apart, each with eyes reddened by tears. Ruby extended her hand, offering the key and its honeybee fob. As not to seem as though she were rushing, Blake took it gingerly, earning a slight smile from the young girl and an energy to save her sister. "You know how to drive that thing, right? I mean, you're not going to get hurt out there, are you?"

Blake smiled back to the best of her ability. "I'll be fine," she said. "Yang taught me how a couple weeks ago, so I think I'll make it." Unfortunately, this was a lie and a potentially catastrophic one at that. There had truthfully been no training as Yang had promised besides the process of how to turn the bike on. Still, this was what Ruby needed to hear.

A sniff and a nod later, Ruby moved to rejoin Weiss, taking her hand and standing beside her bravely. "Please bring her back, Blake. We're counting on you. If anyone can get through to her right now, it's gotta be you." She gave a weak smile. "Just come back together, all right?"

Blake nodded and looked at the heiress. She held a somewhat amused look, as though the situation were funny. Nevertheless, Blake turned a stern expression on her. "Make sure Ruby gets cleaned up. She was out there on the lawn and might have caught a cold."

"Oh, please. I know what I'm doing." The girl in white smirked as though nothing were wrong in the world, squeezing her partner's hand and joking honestly. "Shower by twelve, tea by twelve-thirty, and in bed by one. That is, if I can get her to fall asleep, which I'm almost certain she won't be up to." Blake did not laugh. "I'll keep her safe; don't worry. If she tries to run, I'll have my sword with me, and you've seen how effective that was."

There was a moment where an argument was considered, a gruff command to bring the heiress to order, but then Blake realized who she was talking to. These jokes were meant for Ruby, not her, and arguing would only hurt the young girl's growing mood. Blake faked a smirk in return. "And be sure to clean up, yourself. You're looking a little worse for wear after standing in the rain for that long."

"Believe me, I will. But don't think your mascara isn't running right now. At the very least, I'm not the one covered in muck and tears, so I think I'm fine, comparatively." Somehow, this had managed a withheld chuckle on the Faunus' part. Weiss shook her head. "Anyhow, just go get her. It wouldn't be a whole family without the mother figure, would it?"

Blake sent back a legitimate smirk before turning away and towards the adjacent hall. However, she was stopped once more. "Wait," the heiress sighed. The girl in black turned to the sight of Ruby and Weiss, calm against each other's company. "Be careful out there," she asked, smiling a genuine smile.

In true Belladonna fashion, the conversation ended exactly where it needed to, no more words having been said as the now tallest member of the team moved along the dark hall and towards the heavy door.

With not an ounce of hesitation to be found in her bearing, Blake turned the knob and entered the garage, finding the room dark and even quiet as the storm clattered against the metal panels. As her eyes adjusted to the shadows, Yang's bike came into view. An inanimate object though it was, Bumblebee seemed eager for the task ahead. It seemed ready, almost knowing what Blake had planned and seemingly wanting to get Yang back as it stood upright on its own volition. The Faunus clutched the key in her hand and focused on the obstacle before her. Every second she had spent riding behind her partner came back to her, every second of balance and warmth, the times where fear of a lack of control simply melted away with Yang's stable touch.

"All right, Blake," she assured herself. "Let's go get her."

Two helmets were pulled from the shelf on the back wall, one of black and the other of gold. Although Blake's use of the latter spawned almost entirely from its addition of necessary goggles, it held a greater sentimental value. This was Yang's, and even still the faint smell of lavender lingered to give the Faunus hope. As such, she donned her partner's helmet, taking care to press her ears down and fasten the chin strap correctly, and pulled the goggles over her eyes. Admittedly, they did not have the most comfortable fit on her, but between the raucous weather and winds, her own safety was just as important as Yang's. She moved to fit the second helmet on the bike's tail before mounting the vehicle, herself.

It felt strange to be alone here. Of course, it hurt knowing Yang was not present, but the sheer novelty of this solitude and the illegality of her current position threatened to undo the girl's shakable courage. Her experience in driving cars was limited to a handful of instances, and she had only driven alone once—never mind on a motorcycle. Though, Yang had given her a brief overview to work off of.

Blake shook her head and looked to the console before her, focusing. First came the ignition; she inserted the key and turned it against some expected tension, holding her motion at the apex to override Yang's security feature. When a reprimanding shock did not come, Blake sighed and ignited the engine. She then sighed again, amazed at somehow making it this far. Unfortunately, she had yet to actually drive.

But this did not matter, try as her fear might. Yang was out there somewhere, just waiting to be found. Ruby depended on her sister for want of unity in family and now she depended on the Faunus as well to act as a force to bring them all together. And that was the intent, to bring Yang home. Even if their romance was over, even if Yang would hold true to her words of separation, Blake would never cease to love her, whether as a friend or something more. This was no time to be a coward. This was no time for words. Only actions counted now as this absence proved sickeningly tangible.

With a press of a console button, the garage door began its ascent, metal groans mixing with the hiss of rain in droves. Blake's breaths had become rapid yet her heart beat strong, and as the door pulled away, she shifted Bumblebee into first gear.

The rain met her hard, instantly drenching the Faunus and fogging her goggles but not stopping her from pushing forwards. Rolling on its own, the bike crept onto the muddy road. However, Blake found herself startled—it was out of her control already, moving before she had been ready for it. But she composed herself. The console button was pressed again and the garage door shut, leaving only Blake, Bumblebee, the road ahead, and a blinding ignorance as to how she would get from point to point.

She gulped and pulled the throttle, easing the bike forwards as she found her balance and brought her legs up. This was how Yang did it, right? She pulled again and moved a little faster, leaving the driveway for the outbound road. Fortunately, this seemed to defog her goggles somehow and her balance seemed to work better than anticipated. As such, she hastily shifted into second gear and sped up, passing by the bordering trees and nearing the main road at a savior's speed. She felt confident in this way, actually smiling at the thought that Yang could indeed be recovered.

But then she hit the road. At this speed and on such an unfamiliar vehicle, pride got the better of Blake. As she rounded the corner, intending to turn towards the highway, the concept of breaking had not occurred to her. This led to a brazen attempt at leaning into the turn upon the slicked asphalt, and it did not end well.

Before she knew what was happening, Bumblebee gave out from beneath her, its wheels slipping at this angle and tipping its body all the way over. In quick succession, Blake caught herself bracing. By this point, all she could do was fall as the bike fell with her, crashing against the pavement and skittering into the oncoming lane. Strangely, even though Blake knew she would come out of this injured in some unforeseen way, she did not feel a thing and simply slid across the road with her partner's bike.

When they finally came to a halt, all the Faunus could do was breathe in gasps as she stared up at the falling raindrops, pattering against her lenses.

Nothing hurt, which could be either a good or bad sign, but she could fortunately feel and move all her limbs. Of course, there was a bike lying on top of her leg, but at least it had turned itself off and the storm had shooed away any possible traffic. All things considered, this was hardly the low point of tonight. With an exasperated groan, Blake lifted the machine just high enough to pull her leg out, letting the metal crash back down as she looked herself over.

Nothing on her arms seemed wrong aside from a few clinging pebbles and her helmet still seemed intact; though, there was a rough patch in the paint where she had likely hit her head coming down. Unfortunately, she had not gone entirely unscathed. The side of her right legging was torn in multiple places, scratches scattered about the side with corresponding reds and blacks of stinging damage. However, as Blake stood up, she realized that these scratches were of only secondary importance, for as she put weight on her foot, her breath caught.

In that moment, she knew her ankle had been fractured, a testament to the unexpected nature of overzealousness. However, it should be said this would later be diagnosed as a simple sprain—a comparably painful injury nevertheless but as well a mistake which gave Blake the knowledge to drive safer and the tenacity to continue on.

Keeping the pressure on her healthy ankle, Blake lifted the bike upright without much effort and promptly mounted it again. Indeed her injuries still stung and she was also aware of her risk for infection, but neither seemed to slow her resolve. She could have broken both her legs in that crash and would have still crawled to her destination because that was what her love was. She and Yang were two parts of an equal whole, but as Yang prioritized Blake above herself, Blake prioritized Yang the same.

Quicker than before, Bumblebee's engine roared to life. There was not much in the way of hesitation or fear any longer, only a drive to succeed and an undeniable courage to press on. Even as the storm thundered around her, flashing its brilliant white lights above, Blake's eyes remained steadfast on her objective. Admittedly, she did shudder at the sounds, but she could not distress any further than this. Now was the time to be brave, to prove to Yang she was not a coward. Now was the time to fulfill Weiss' expectation, going to an impossible length to cross the divide singlehandedly. But even more than this, now was the time to keep a promise.

Blake pushed the bike into first gear, then to second, and only when she reached the freeway did she dare touch third. She knew where Yang was without a doubt in her mind, and she understood now that her own safe arrival was just as important. Although the drive was relatively slow on these vacant midnight streets, Blake pressed on surely, if not for her own impatience, then for Yang's safety.

---

The earth seemed to shake with the ceaseless grumbles above. Blake was fortunate to have not encountered lightning on her relatively spotless journey, but she had nonetheless found herself reminiscing intermittently, vision going back to that introductory storm every time.

While it is true that some level of courage was shown in the Faunus' perseverance, it cannot be said that her fears were in the past. Never truly a phobia, never entirely suppressed, this fear of the weather would always chew on the back of her mind. However, there was a certain trance she found in going after Yang. Rather than a distraction, which she admittedly wished for with her injured state, this determination acted as a motive worth sacrificing for—she would brave the storm readily if only for Yang. After all, the blonde had been her lone solace in these turbulent times, and now it was Blake's turn to bring her back.

Carefully, the Faunus slowed into the destination's parking lot, breaking easily at the low speed she maintained. As had been the case with every other place she passed, the area was abandoned. This gave her the opportunity to forgo the now obscured parking spots and simply stop beside the expected trail.

With a flick of a switch and the removal of Yang's key, Bumblebee shut off, leaving only the incessant plastic taps above Blake's ears. There was a certain tranquility to this arrival, this sound. Her leg did, of course, ache and there was the very real possibility of Yang not being here, but Blake had made it. Beside her was an inviting tree line, a simple row of oaks which gave way to a perimeter path surrounding the park of their relationship's onset. For the moment, however, Blake rested as she caught her breath. Wide-eyed and disoriented, she looked out at the shimmering pavement ahead, becoming thoroughly soaked by the storm and absently switching on the gyroscope.

But this would only last a moment. As soon as she realized the hardest part was over, her eyes refocused on the path beside her and her weight shifted to dismount. Yang was in this park, back in her childhood hideaway and cowering from herself, and Blake was sure of this. There was no way to be certain and she knew that a secondary escape was beyond her realm of knowledge, but somehow Blake knew. One foot touched the puddled ground, then the other, and before the eager girl could unlatch her helmet, she was reminded of her ankle. Although she did wince and quietly groan, she did not dare stop.

Her helmet was removed, goggles, too, and her supporting grip on the bike was relinquished so she could stand alone, painful though this was. Redemption was at her fingertips, and she would grit her teeth, trudge ahead, and ignore the thunder to catch it.

Her movements began as a hasty hobble, an attempt to ignore her needed limp, but this soon became a desperate half-jog. With her right foot, she ambled; with her left, she ran. By no means was it the most comfortable means of locomotion, but it was efficient, and though she knew this movement would need to be eliminated by the time she reached Yang, it would remain an unabashed necessity to finding her. As such, the Faunus gripped the honeybee fob and hobbled on.

Although she had only visited this place once, the path to Yang's glade could never be forgotten. It had been such a beautiful day to hold her for the first time, to confess to her, to actually love her that every moment had been memorized to the smallest blade of grass. However, what had once been a park full of life and youthful excitement was nothing more than a shadow now, an impenetrable veil beyond the inner tree line which yearned to forebode. Despite what Blake thought of her surroundings, Yang was at the end of it all, and this was reason enough to ignore the darkness.

But pride soon found her in another difficult spot. The path around the park was completely visible for the young Faunus, being that the light from the parking lot was present throughout, but upon reaching the old, forgotten fork and the tunnel of leaves beyond, light became a sudden issue. Faunus could see in the dark as well as a real cat could, but not in this total darkness. Moreover, the girl's sight was strained between her anxiety to see Yang again and the physical pain of her progress. The forest she entered unfortunately tested all three, but she kept her head regardless by thoughts of her frightened partner.

The canopy acted as a roof, and as the Faunus found refuge beneath it, her traits came into use. Without the rain pounding against her upper ears, Blake could hear again. For the most part, the forest was quiet, allowing her mind to wander in this void of silence and sightlessness, focusing only on the storm above and the sound of her heels against the invisible path's concrete. In this latter way, she found some form of guidance.

As she went, her pace gradually quickened, reaching no more than an urgent jog at the thought of finding her girlfriend. Would Yang be mad at her? Would she be mad at Yang? What could they possibly say to keep what had happened from happening again? At this point, it was all pure speculation, but this proved easier to manage than an actual encounter—there was the probability for mistakes there, room to choose anger over sensibility. However, these thoughts were soon interrupted by an enthusing sound on the wind.

Even with ears on edge, the distant thumps seemed almost nonexistent. However, Blake heard them faintly and pushed herself to move faster. There was no other person in her mind who could have caused them. As the Faunus rushed ahead, these heavy thumps grew louder and were soon accompanied by tinny clicks which had to have come from Ember Celica. Blake wanted to smile, wanted to cry, but kept herself composed lest pride take the opportunity from her again.

Guided by the eager urge to find her partner, Blake reached the end of the murky tunnel. Now the thumps were clear and the clicks sounded just like an empty chamber. For this, the Faunus broke a fleeting smile as she limped into the clearing.

From far beyond the surrounding trees, the city of Vale had tinted its sky a dolorous red, giving Blake just enough light to see what was wrong. The central pond shifted in the wind, its natural serenity flooded by the surrounding chaos. This left the marble bench before it—that memorable spot where the summer truly began—wet and, surprisingly, broken in two. Something had fractured this timeless relic, and Blake was certain who, for as her now worried gaze moved upwards, she witnessed the source of the distant noises and knew the rage which could destroy oneself.

Yang stood before a hapless tree, fist-deep in a shotgun crater and head turned down at the roots she had frozen. She was crying, audibly weeping. The sound was so foreign and insecure for both parties, evocative of pain hitherto suppressed within Blake's heart, that it was hard to believe. But Blake would maintain her composure and merely listen, taking up her partner's mantle of strength to let Yang have her chance to cry.

Every few seconds, the shivering blonde would pull her fist back and try again, hitting the wood with a bloody hand as her gauntlet fired nothing, her belt of shells half buried in the mud. And every time, she would groan, a retching cry escaping her lips as her body shook violently. She looked so helpless, so afraid. Between the rain and her tears, no flame seemed to flicker within this once spirited fighter.

"Yang?" Blake called, voice hoarse but nonetheless clear.

A biting wind rushed the Faunus as the girl in question turned, glowing blues showing nothing but animalistic terror. Yang backed up against her tree, breathing heavily and halting her tears. "B-Blake…?" she whispered. Her back hit the trunk, thereby startling her and leading to an even wider area of frost.

Although the rain of the clearing had indeed been cold, it only worsened as the droplets froze. Just as a furious heat would send the Faunus to recoil, the ice upon her outstretched fingers caused her to unintentionally shy. Where this cold could come from, how it could exist within such a naturally warm figure, was largely distressing, but the fact that it was Yang who had flipped her personality to become this shivering, tearful wreck pushed her partner onwards. Cold or hot, red or blue, she was still Yang beneath this façade, and Yang was worth fighting for.

Blake stepped forwards, braving this auric disturbance. "Yang, please don't run." Unfortunately, this only caused the blonde's muscles to tense, her head turning as though she were to flee. "Wait. Please," she tried. "I just want to help you. I just want to talk."

"Go home, Blake!" She did not mean it; her words were a hiccup. "Just…go! You don't have to deal with me anymore."

"But I want to!" Again, the girl in black moved closer, forcing her ankle to relax as she grit her teeth through the process. "Yang, I need to! You're the most important person in my life, and you're my partner." Yang opened her mouth to object, but Blake took another step. "One way or the other, it's my job to take care of you and not let you leave."

"No, it's not! I quit, remember? I told you we're done. You don't have to worry about me anymore—you're free, Blake!"

"Free from what? From you?"

Another step could not be taken. It was too cold, too painful to press on; and even though Blake pushed with every fiber of her being, she could not. Her body would not allow it and forced her to cry. "I never want to be free of you. I want to be in love—I want to be normal! And if that means you'll keep pushing me away…I'll keep pushing back."

"Blake—"

"Just listen to what I'm saying! Please!" Tears fell in steady streams from both girls; however, only Blake bothered to retain some degree of composure. Yang was still outright with her emotions, breaking down openly and shedding her façades to show her partner what truly was. "I want to help you. In any way I can. I just want to see you feel better, Yang. That's all. We've been running in circles for almost a month now, and neither of us is telling the other what's wrong."

A guilty look crossed Yang's face, a sign of progress and a sign of anguish. This was the matter of their divide, the overlying principle which kept them from each other. "I just want to talk, Yang. I just want to figure something out. And, to be honest, I don't want you to go—those things I said after the argument were wrong. Just…give me a chance. I don't want us to run anymore."

By a small and almost insignificant degree, Yang's aura let up. The air was still uncomfortably brittle and stung the Faunus' scratched skin, but the rain no longer froze and instead washed away her collected dirt.

"Okay," Yang said, sniffling to mirror Blake's composure.

"You mean it?"

The blonde nodded. "Just…promise you'll understand."

Without a moment of hesitation, Blake promised, "Always."

There was a period of tensioned pause wherein the two simply looked at each other, breathing heavily and fighting for their respective wants. This was not a battle or a grander campaign, though the acts sure felt as such. But as time went on, Yang's aura gradually trickled to its natural medium, releasing the frost around her as those sapphire eyes shone sadly.

Blake was the first to speak. "I'm sorry. I apologize. I want you to understand that I'm here for you—not me; you. There wasn't anything that forced me to come here, nothing that burdened me, but I did come here on my own volition for you. You're in pain, so am I, and the only person I know who can make me feel better is you. And that's why I love you. Because you actually care.

"But I messed up. I rushed this summer. This relationship was something entirely new to me, and I didn't know how to handle it. I should've followed you and let you set the pace, but I didn't—we didn't. Two days in and we were dating, a month in and we said 'I love you,' and a month after that I almost broke us up. No one does that, Yang. I was overzealous."

"It's fine…" For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a pang of warmth shot through and across the Faunus. "I-I think I needed to move that fast," Yang admitted. "It felt nice, like we were actually accomplishing something."

"Yeah. It did." Blake smiled weakly. "But I meant what I said. I do love you. Even if we rushed ourselves, that doesn't change the way I think about you."

The girl in yellow looked to the ground. "Me too."

Perhaps it was not best to smile after all. Blake shook her head and sighed. "Whatever's happening now, I believe it's a product of us rushing through this summer. We've been with each other almost every day, and not an hour goes by where I don't think of you. But I think that's unhealthy…somehow. It's not that I don't like being around you but that we can only be around each other for so long before something happens. To be perfectly honest, I think we're in a pretty good spot. From what I've read, other couples tend to get mad at each other if they spend too much time together. But us? I think we turn the gun on ourselves to save each other. Neither's healthy, but at least we don't argue."

"But…you're not tired of me, right? I mean, you don't hate me?"

Blake looked to her partner, determination squared in her eyes. "Never. Weiss was right; you could commit the worst crime imaginable and I'd still find a way to redeem you." She smiled again, trying to help Yang along by inspiring emotion. "I'm not tired of you and I'm not mad at you. But I do think we need to slow down. Remember what you told me on our last day at Beacon? You said you invited me because you and Ruby had spent every summer together and that you were scared you'd get in each other's hair this time. It's like that, Yang. I don't hold anything against you, but I'm scared we're spoiling something amazing."

"I…I guess," Yang sighed, not entirely convinced. "But you know I'm not tired of you, right? I just have to leave so I can keep you safe."

"Yang, you have enough to worry about in life, and so do I. We're supposed to be the only people we can trust to help with that baggage. If you leave again, Ruby and I are just going to spend the rest of our lives worrying about you. And I know you'd do the same for us. So, if you want to find a way to make us safer, tell us and we'll make a compromise. Just don't run again. I might be able to keep up with you, but Ruby won't."

Another pause brought another wave of reluctant warmth. Yang leaned back against the tree, arms crossed as she quietly cradled her fist. "I don't wanna hurt you guys, but no matter what I do, I always seem to get in your way. Ruby with Weiss, you with your parents, I'm like a third wheel to everything. And it's never been that way before. Not before Beacon.

"I was never the best at anything and I never really wanted to be; all I ever wanted was to be good enough. Good enough for you, for Ruby, and even for Weiss. I wanna be a valuable part of the team, but I don't think I bring anything good to the table. Whenever you guys ask about me, I always find a way to skirt around the question because I don't think you really want to know. I mean, I know you do, but if I told you everything, you'd probably regret asking. So, I just have to be strong every day, keep my mouth shut, and be happy about it."

"You sound bitter."

Yang sighed. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It goes back to us rushing. If we do the same thing every day, eventually something's going to change, for better or worse. For you, you had to wear a façade every day. I know how it feels to suppress your emotions and internalize everything, but I can only imagine what it was like to do that voluntarily."

"It was…tough."

With this admission, the cold finally fell away. The glade did not warm any, as Yang was not her regular, welcoming self, but the summer storm was permitted its climate. Blake took this opportunity to close the distance between herself and her partner.

"I never was a good crier—never really had the chance to unless it snuck up on me. Those…façades I have to wear, I didn't just wear them for Ruby. After a while, I started to wear them for me. If I wanted to complain about something, I'd just suck it up; if I wanted to get sad over something, I'd just suck it up. I could get mad about all the things I wanted to because people see that as strong, but after a while, I could only do that. I could only be happy or mad.

"And I'm not an angry person, Blake. I don't like losing my cool. But I have to because it's the only way I can act—it's the only way people will take me seriously."

"But you could always come to me if you're feeling upset." Blake frowned. "I'm just like that, Yang. I have to lock everything up, too. But you once told me that if I ever needed someone to talk to, I could just go to you and vent. And the offer's always been open for you to do the same with me."

"I know. It's just…"

"You couldn't?"

Sheepishly, the blonde nodded. "I don't know how. There are times when I break down and let everything spill, but I can't vent outside of that. Blake, I'm an emotional mess-up. On one hand, I can't even admit to being weak; on the other, I can't let Ruby go. If I'm not happy, then I'm nothing. And that's not just what everybody else thinks, it's what I think, too."

"But it's not what I believe."

"You think I don't know that? That's why I'm running. I know you think I'm more than a happy-go-lucky party girl, but the thing is, I'm not even that. I'm nothing. And while you think I'm some sort of strong, insecure girl with a stunted childhood, all I'm doing is disappointing you."

"I promise you, you're not."

"I am!" Her words came as a choked cry, an outburst which she quickly contained. "Don't you get it? You think I'm one thing trying to be another thing, but I'm not any of them. You think I'm trying to be strong by not saying anything when I don't have anything to say. I never cry, I never complain, I never argue, and all that's done for me is mess with my head. Now I don't know what to do. I messed up. You wanted a relationship, I was happy to try it, and when I finally found what I was looking for with you, I just let it slip through my fingers." She hung her head and simply let her tears fall. "I love you, Blake, but I don't know how to do it."

It was nonsense. Irrational. Yang had been the one to introduce the concept of love to the Faunus and had always seemed the professional one of their relationship. Was this her past experience speaking? Was this just a lie to push Blake away? Never mind those; was what she said true? Maybe it was, but for the sake of their conversation, the answer was no.

"And neither do I," said Blake, "but that's never stopped us before." The final few feet between the partnership were quickly eliminated. As the Faunus stepped beneath the protection of Yang's tree, she took hold of the girl's hands, surely but with no small amount of fight. "I can't promise you a happily-ever-after and I know I'm not the most flirtatious person ever, but I do love you. And I'd do anything to keep you aware of that." Purposefully avoiding the gauntlets and bleeding knuckles, Blake squeezed her girlfriend's hands.

"Every second I'm with you, no matter if the situation's good or bad, I can always find strength. You may not think you're strong and I might be just as blind as you are, but the fact is that I feel something very real whenever I look at you." A quizzical gaze was brought up from the blonde. "So, you might not be as strong as everyone thinks you are, but you make me feel brave, invincible. I only drove out this far because I knew you needed my help. And frankly, I think I needed yours, too.

"I don't think I'm weak and I don't think you are, either. We can be if we want to, just like how we can be strong if we force ourselves to be, but at the end of the day, we're just people with good and bad sides to us. I still think I'm a coward for running to the White Fang and doing the things I did, but, Yang, I drove Bumblebee all the way out here just to find you!" She allowed herself a sadly amused smile as worry crept across Yang's features. "I know it was stupid of me and I probably could have called a cab, but I did it because I love you—I was brave for once because of you. That's the strength I was talking about, that strength you imbue in me.

"And I know I give you strength, too. The way you handled my parents was amazing, Yang, and I wouldn't have been able to talk to them without you. They would have just kept me home if they hadn't met you. And Weiss? The way you handled her when we came back was probably the best possible outcome we could have asked for. I know you think you went overboard, but if I know anyone who deserves that level of reprimand, it's her—otherwise, I doubt she'd have taken you seriously. In a lot of ways, I think you're incredibly strong. In fact, I look up to you.

"You're kind to everyone you meet—you at least give them the chance to prove their character before liking or loathing them—and you never give the time of day to those you don't care about. Me? I get mad at the White Fang at every chance I'm given. And when it comes to the people you do care about, you never hold back. You chose to mother Ruby when she didn't have a father, fight Weiss when she didn't have a clue, and you gave me a place to turn to when I had nowhere else to run. You might not be the best at letting down your guard, but you at least helped me let down mine. And I owe you so much for that."

Yang's sobs had left her entirely. Her tears did still run and her body did still shake, but the blueness of her eyes seemed happier now, hopeful for the first time in a while. She gripped Blake's hands tighter, a noticeable warmth emanating from them, and appeared awestruck. It was not guaranteed that she was completely reassured, but she seemed ready.

"I love you, Yang. What you're feeling right now is the belief that no one cares for you like you care for them. And that's okay; a lot of people feel the same way. But you gave me a home. You gave me a friend and a girlfriend and—and a new life and a reason to live it. But I'd give that life for you—right now, I'm giving it to you—and I'll always be on your side, no matter what. I know that goes against the things I said about the White Fang and I know it's hypocritical of me, but I love you, Yang. You may have faults in your eyes and I certainly have some in mine, but to me, you're perfect just the way you are. Just please don't leave me again."

At last, the barriers between them were broken. Yang's hands detached from Blake's own and shot out to embrace her in a desperate hug, something torn between crushing and tender. On one part instinct and another relief, Blake reached out and did the same, pulling herself into Yang and Yang into herself.

A flurry of warmth fluttered out from the blonde's racing heart and a thankful sob from her lips as she buried herself in her partner's neck, whimpering a mantra of "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

Blake hushed her. It was all right, she had said. It was okay.

Regardless of their triumphant relief, the sobs of before came back with renewed passion upon the Faunus' shoulder. Yang was still structurally weak and relied on her partner for balance, but tears were fine now. The worst was over.

"Shh," Blake soothed. She ran a hand through the matted mess of hair. "Shh. I've got you. It's all right now."

Somehow, this only elicited an even greater choke, Yang's body shuddering at the bittersweet groan she released. In this time, Blake set to work on holding her close again, steadying her heaving back with one arm and combing through her wild mane with the other. She seemed so helpless yet so determined—as though she knew she had done wrong but vowed never to run again. At least, this was what Blake hoped, for both her own and Ruby's sakes. Nevertheless, Yang made it clear she wanted to be held now, and Blake would do whatever she could to make her feel welcomed.

They would stand there, beneath the swaying tree, for what felt like hours, both painful and thankful. Mostly the former, however, Blake could not help but grin. Yang was neither whole nor certain, but she was home, and if the childlike possessiveness in her pressure meant much, then it was reasonable to assume she meant to stay. The supposed fracture could wait; Yang was home.

"Thank you," Yang whimpered. "Thank you so much, kitten. You…Why didn't I meet you sooner?"

The Faunus smirked, finding perhaps untimely humor in this sad rhetoric. "I was off making my own mistakes. Destroying my childhood so you'd have something to fix."

The blonde coughed. In a way, it had almost sounded like a laugh. "We're just a hot mess together, huh?"

"Perhaps," Blake said. "But compared to how we were apart, I think that's a fair tradeoff."

"No kidding."

Yang pulled away, blue eyes brimming with tears and a wide smile sprawled across her lips. Her grip maintained and her warmth only grew, but there was still an insecurity she had yet to put forth. But this was no problem for Blake. With the hand tangled in her partner's mane, she pulled the lonely girl close and kissed her. There was no greater motive outside of relief and assurance, but it was deep enough to draw the blonde in and short enough to be a lifelong promise. When Blake pulled away, Yang's purple eyes returned to her, tearful and joyous.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"No matter where you go, no matter what you do, I'll always be at your side. I'll wait with you, stay with you until I can no longer fight. But even then, I'll never stop because you came to my aid when I needed you most. And now I'll return the favor at every chance I get. You have nothing to fear from me, nothing to hide. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on or a friend to laugh with, you'll find me there waiting, ready to earn back your smile. You're the best friend I've ever had, Yang, and the best friend I'm ever going to have. Thank you for giving me this chance and for letting me give you one, too."

A fire burned in the huntress' eyes, pendants of gold and promises of lilacs tempered both by strains of personal monsters. Nothing was perfect, nothing was guaranteed, but by due diligence and allegiant care, something fragile was made tough and something hidden set free. There were truths yet to hear and stones left to throw, but for the girls of yellow and black, this ceasefire came with the agreement to let these matters go. Better to purposefully idealize perfection than to lie to oneself by forcing and waiting for it. What they had now was happiness, not perfection, and in their pursuits of total complementation, only unnatural fissures had been brought forth.

Yang was happy and open to cry just as Blake was steady and unmoved by the storm. They lived for each other and for their own causes, selfishly pushing away their usual angsts for the combined rewards of selflessness. This was not a means of lowering themselves from who they once were—the girls respectively stoic and lighthearted—but instead the act of humanization, the supplementations of one's strengths upon the other's weaknesses. In this way, it was love—true love, young love, rushed love; the descriptors never mattered. The point was of themselves and of others, acceptance and commitment, and with this giving and taking of guards and vulnerabilities, Blake and Yang had reached a happy medium.

---

And that's that! I've waited over a year to write those scenes, you know? The wait wasn't fun and I have to admit this didn't quite live up to my over-glamorized expectations, but, man, what a ride. Between the blue-eyed Yang and Blake chasing after her for a change (On Yang's own bike, no less!), I had incredible fun. But you know what the best part is? No more angst. Up next, conclusions and fluff.

For the meantime, however, there are a few things I'd like to look back on. Just a heads-up, this author's note runs a little long.

First off, let me just say that this is, in fact, still a work of fiction and by no means does it reflect the average intuitiveness of a heartbroken anybody. I've never ridden a motorcycle before, so I can't speak to their difficulty in operation, but if I had to guess, Blake would, realistically, have a much harder time than she did in this chapter considering her mental state, inexperience, road conditions, and the ongoing storm. That said, I thought it was a pretty cool moment of characterization, overcoming all those obstacles in order to bring Yang back.

Throughout this novel, there has been a continuous discussion of if Blake is the coward she regularly claims to be. As readers, we're supposed to assume she isn't because of her actions both here and in the series proper. However, the discussion of her cowardice is not targeted towards us so much as it is at her. We're just along for the ride in this respect. And although we can root for her and hope her teammates remove the doubts she holds, it's ultimately up to her to realize if she is or isn't a coward. In this chapter, she reaches a decision, though it isn't quite absolute. Because she proved able to ride Bumblebee despite her limited knowledge and the storm above, it was hard to argue against the concept of courage. In fact, she even admits to Yang that she was brave by the end of this chapter. But that doesn't mean she'll be looking for leadership positions anytime soon; simply, she feels more confident about herself, which was the goal of this overarching cowardice discussion.

However, I feel I should also say the biking scene felt a little bit…out of place. I say "a little bit" because there were indeed reasons to show the scene (Blake getting injured, the consequences of rushing, the faults in self-centered thinking), but…I don't know. It just felt somewhat tacked on. Maybe I'm being too critical of it, maybe I'm not, but even if I found a better way to implement the scene, I don't think I would actually do it. There's a definite reason for why it needs to stand out; I'm just not 100% on the manner in which it does.

Now, on to Yang. The idea of having her eyes flash blue as well as red has been hinted at since very early on in this novel. Most notably, if you remember the dream sequence in chapter ten, that's when the color was first mentioned by name. The idea was that because her eyes were naturally purple and because they turned red whenever she was upset, it was reasonable to assume blue was somewhere in the mix, too.

Concurrently, the idea that blue eyes mean cold was an answer to how the area around her became hot when her eyes turned red. Her emotions control her aura entirely, and her semblance, in this story's context, is the manipulation of energies. If she sees red, the area around her gets agitated, leading to hotter temperatures and brighter lights, and if she's feeling blue, the area gets cooler, lights start to dim, and movement is made difficult for everything in her vicinity. There's no scientific accuracy to this, but it was a logic I had fun with.

And in regards to how she's feeling now, after that ending, you'll have to wait for the next chapter. The answer's nothing too exciting and she does feel leagues better, but to what degree, I'm unable to say.

Next, there's the matter of the flashback and the return of Blake's parents. To those who worry about their overuse as original characters, don't worry; that scene was their send-off and will be the last we'll see of them for this story. Admittedly, their addition was a spur-of-the-moment improvisation which worked out surprisingly well. They weren't supposed to be in this chapter originally, but I needed something to break the monotony and something a little more express in its comparison of a younger Blake to present-day Yang. That, and I had planned on writing a separate short story of Blake's initial flight sometime in the future, but those plans fell through and this is what was left of them.

And in addition to that, I needed some way to parallel Yang's decision of abandonment to the other instances in her, Blake, and Ruby's lives. Being that we've actually met Lilian and Cole, it made the most sense to focus on Blake's initial abandonment rather than Summer's or that of Yang's biological mother. Neither Blake nor Yang has had an especially stable life, and one of the fundamental themes of Valence has been that search for stability. In this way, I needed to prove how incredibly similar they are to one another in a climactic fashion before bringing them together for the finale. Lilian and Cole made the most sense because they had established characters, histories, and links to both girls. Hopefully, the flashback worked out all right.

Lastly, I'd like to touch on Ruby and Weiss to some extent. While there was some minor White Rose content here, I think the focus on them was of Ruby and Weiss as individuals rather than as a couple. More specifically, how they handled the situation and proved their merits.

In this chapter, I wanted to give them both shots at leadership. Although Ruby is, by title, the team's leader, that doesn't make Weiss any less competent in her organizational ability. There are moments where both of their leadership styles have advantages and failures, meaning the question of "Who was right?" can be left sort of ambiguous; however, it must be said that the younger's adamancy to keep morale high and maintain a chemic troop over the convenience of immediate replacement was a far more successful choice, especially in the grand scheme of military history. Without a doubt, Ruby was the one to hold her team together when the situation broke down, but one cannot disparage Weiss' earlier attempts at reason, either.

So, it can be said that chapter nineteen was the point at which Team RWBY was finally brought back together. They were torn apart first, of course, and this unity did not come without sacrifice, but I can tell you in absolute confidence that after the events of this chapter—after Yang returns home to Ruby's protective care—it will be much more difficult for any of them to run again. They've all changed over the course of this tale, grown closer and learned to appreciate each other—or, in the case of Weiss and Yang, tolerate. And this means they will watch out for each other. Whether this care will be in the form of a cohesive combat unit or the more idealized "family" concept Ruby kept pushing, time will tell. For the moment, however, I need to get working on the next chapter.

Thank you so much for reading. At any other station, I would have been frustrated at waiting as long as I did for this chapter, but writing for you has made it all worthwhile. It had something to do with the anticipation—the thoughts of finally writing these scenes and sharing them with you at long last. And I'm glad I wrote this story. Even if it's just fan fiction, there's something special about connecting with these characters and shaping a story that both you and I can smile about. So, thanks for giving me this opportunity to entertain. I wouldn't be having this much fun without you.

One chapter remains.

Stay safe and stay tuned.