"Okay, now add some compost. More than that, Blake, don't be shy."

Blake makes a face at her, nose wrinkling in disgust. Yang just shakes her head in response, amused. The late morning sun is bearing down on them, hot and bright in the middle of the cloudless sky, and sweat runs down Yang's neck, pooling at the small of her back - her tank top is soaked through. They've been gardening for hours, just the two of them, kneeling on the ground in the backyard with little to no shade. Yang loves it all - the smell of wet dirt and rusty tools, the burn of the sun on her bare shoulders, the challenging task of teaching a mildly grumpy Blake the basics of gardening.

Blake adjusts her straw hat, and a few curls of dark hair escape from her messy bun, sticking to her temples. Following Yang's instructions, she fills the series of small holes they just made with compost, wielding her trowel like she finds the whole experience downright harrowing. Yang has to bite her cheeks to stop herself from laughing at her. Blake is just so damn cute when she's pouty.

She flicks the rim of Blake's hat. "Quit being such a baby. We need the compost, otherwise the plants won't grow as well."

"I know," Blake grumbles, though she's staring at the bucket of compost with murderous intent. "Still gross. Can we get on to the next part?"

Yang rolls a seed between her fingers, and pushes it into the soft mixture of dirt and compost, then hands the small packet of seeds to Blake. "Here, you do it. Make sure they're completely buried."

She goes to grab the watering can and a bundle of wooden stakes. When she comes back, Blake's finished planting the seeds.

"What are these for?" Blake asks, indicating the stakes with a tilt of her chin.

"Tomato plants need something to keep them off the ground. You wanna help me put them in?"

"Sure," Blake says, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. She leaves smudges of dirt on her skin, and Yang's heart aches with this new thing that's been happening lately, every time Blake does something endearing, this confusing mix of tenderness and desire, and it's… inconvenient. She doesn't want to look at her feelings too closely - she's already dealing with enough of a mess these days, what with Raven constantly lurking at the forefront of her mind. She doesn't have time for whatever this is. So yeah, inconvenient.

"Hold on," she says, anyway. She licks her thumb and gently wipes the grime off Blake's forehead.

The grin Blake gives her in response is adorably bashful. It doesn't help with the small storm of emotions raging inside Yang's heart.

"We've been working for hours. When do I get to eat some damn tomatoes?" Blake asks, playfully petulant.

Yang tuts, and pretends to stroke a beard she definitely doesn't possess. "Patience, my young apprentice," she lectures, in her most pompous voice. "It will take some time before the fruits of our labor are ready to…"

Her phone pings, interrupting her monologue. She takes it out of her pocket, heart racing.

"Any news?" Blake says.

"Nah, just a text from Weiss. She's having a hard time with her asshole of a father."

Yang sends Weiss a quick reply, as disappointment washes over her. "You should call her," Blake offers, carefully. "You haven't talked to her in a while."

"I will, I will. I just can't focus on anything but Raven right now."

Blake frowns like she's about to argue, but instead her face softens, and when she speaks, it's in a reassuring tone.

"I know you're getting antsy about the wait. But there's no need to worry, these things take time. Besides, Junior is way too afraid of you not to come through."

Yang plants a stake into the ground and pushes hard. It sinks into the wet earth without resistance. "She's just so close, Blake. I've waited for so long to meet her, and she's so close."

It's been a week since their visit to Junior, and she hasn't heard anything. Well, that's not true, she did text him once asking for news. He replied that he was working on it, which did nothing to calm Yang. She hates waiting - sitting still isn't her style.

And she's been waiting her whole life for this.

Patch doesn't have anything resembling a proper downtown - the island is just a bunch of scattered houses separated from each other by a mishmash of fields and woods - but the main road, at least, is lined with a few stores and restaurants. There, in between a gas station and a taqueria, stands the tiniest, and oldest, movie theater known to mankind, aptly named the Titanic.

The Titanic only shows one movie per week, the same every evening, and it's almost always old classics that Yang's never heard of. She used to complain a lot about it, when she was younger, but now she finds it charming, in its own way, like old-fashioned things often are when they remind you of home.

"Hey, they're playing Frankenstein this week at the Titanic," Ruby announces one day. They're having a picnic on the beach, and she's distractedly browsing Patch Magazine, their local newspaper, while eating her sandwich. "I was thinking of inviting my friend Oscar to go to the movies. You guys wanna join us?"

Yang shrugs, sipping her iced tea. "Yeah, why not. Blake, what do you think?"

"I'm in," Blake says, with more enthusiasm than Yang expects. "I love black and white movies!"

"Of course you do, you beautiful nerd," Yang teases. It takes her a few seconds to realize she just called Blake beautiful, and her cheeks grow warm. She dips her head, a little self conscious, but it doesn't really matter, because Blake's already thrown a banana peel at her in retaliation for the nerd comment.

The fight that ensues ends with Yang's face sticky with iced tea, Blake coughing out sea water, and Ruby taking cover behind her Patch Magazine.

They agree on Friday night. Oscar's mom drops him off at the house, and they all walk together to the theater. Oscar is a new kid from Ruby's high school, and though Yang's heard a lot about him, it's the first time they meet in person. He's nice, as far as Yang can tell, if a little shy. Thankfully, her sister is loud enough for two.

"Who's ready for the movie?" Ruby singsongs, her voice resonating in the quiet evening as she skips ahead of the group like an excited puppy.

"You certainly are," Blake mumbles, not unkindly. Ruby sticks her tongue at her, and Oscar giggles.

Yang throws an arm around Blake's shoulders. "Aww, guys, look at us! It's like we're on a double date!"

"Uh, Ruby and I are not dating, obviously," Oscar rushes to deny, looking mildly offended.

"Gee, thanks," Ruby grumbles, before adding, "but seriously, we're not. Are you guys dating?"

"Oh uh… no, we're… no," Blake stammers. Her cheeks turn bright pink, and she bites her lip nervously, and her eyelashes flutter, and it's the cutest fucking thing Yang's ever seen. She wants to make it happen again. She wants to make it happen all the time.

She tightens her grip around Blake's shoulders, and clutches her chest with her other hand. "Oh, Blake, darlin', you're breaking my heart!" she declares, like an overdramatic soap opera actress. "And to think I was gonna buy you some popcorn!"

Blake rolls her eyes, but she doesn't push her away, and so Yang keeps her pressed close to her side until they reach the theater.

They buy the tickets, and make their way into the tiny lobby. The air smells faintly of dust and hot buttered popcorn.

"Do I get popcorn?" Ruby pouts, poking Yang in the ribs. "Or is the offer only valid for your not-date?"

Of course, Yang ends up buying popcorn for everyone, because she's way too nice. She grumbles a little about it, but Ruby is grinning at her, delighted, and Blake's eyes twinkle with fond amusement, and, really, if Yang is honest with herself, it's totally worth it.

The Titanic only has one room, with a grand total of fifty seats. A few people are already waiting, most of whom Yang and Ruby recognize - the benefits of growing up in such a small community. The four of them make their way to one of the middle rows in the semi-darkness, and choose their seats.

"It's a horror movie, you know, technically. You gonna be scared?" Yang whispers to Blake as they sit next to each other on the plush red velvet chairs.

Blake huffs, a small, indignant sound. "Please."

"It's okay if you wanna hold my hand during the scary parts," Yang laughs, "I won't tell anyone."

Blake swats her knee. "Are you going to talk through the whole movie? Cause I'm not above gagging you."

"Kinky," is Yang's only reply, just as the lights dim. She can't see the face Blake makes, it's too dark, but she hears Blake's breath faltering ever so slightly, and the way she swallows, hard, like her mouth got very dry, and Yang smirks, satisfied and not entirely sure why.

(That's a lie. She knows exactly why, she's just not quite ready to face it yet.)

After the movie, they all walk home together. Oscar and Ruby are farther ahead on the path, talking animatedly and sharing the last of the popcorn. The night has fallen by now, and everything seems muted under the faint light of the moon, trees blurring into each other, shadows dancing on the road.

"Not too bad, for a not-date," Blake says, a smile teasing at the corner of her mouth, as Yang and her trail behind the other two.

"What was your last date like?" Yang asks, hands stuffed in the back pockets of her jean shorts.

She's not sure why she's curious, all of a sudden. She never payed much attention to Blake's love life during the school year - Blake never brought anyone to their dorm room, and she never spent the night out, as far as Yang knows. Not that Yang did either, unless you count that ill-advised one night stand with a sorority girl whose name she can't even remember.

"I think it was with that guy, the one I met in my judo class, in February," Blake says slowly, like the details are a little fuzzy. "Dinner and a movie, never saw him again. He was nice, but not my type."

"What's your type?"

The words come out of Yang's mouth a little rushed, expectant, and her lungs feel too full, somehow, like she's holding all the air inside. "Or is that another one of your secrets?" she jokes, forcing a lighter tone. The back of her neck burns.

Blake tilts her head towards her, grinning. "Well, he didn't buy me popcorn, for one thing."

Yang's lungs empty all at once, and now she's breathless, and oh. Oh. She's in so much trouble.

It takes almost another full week of waiting, until finally, one day, as Yang is sitting on a stool in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for the evening meal, she gets a text from Junior. It's short, and it makes her heart stop.

"Tonight. 9pm."

Yang glances at the clock, blood thumping in her ears. It's already five-thirty in the afternoon. She doesn't hesitate. She runs out of the kitchen and to her room, where Blake is lounging on her bed, reading a book.

"Get your stuff, we have to go. Raven is meeting Junior in Vale in three hours."

To her credit, Blake doesn't ask questions, jumping to her feet, catching her phone and wallet from the bedside table. Yang grabs her jacket, pats the pockets to make sure everything she needs is in there, and signals for Blake to follow. She leads them out of the house, to the shed where she keeps her bike, and doesn't say a word as she removes her helmet from the rack.

"Your parents?" Blake asks, matter-of-factly, putting her own helmet on.

"There's no time," Yang replies. She turns on the engine, and Blake settles behind her, and just like that, they're gone, on their way to Vale.

It's not a comfortable ride, three hours on a bike, especially when Yang's mind is racing with anticipation. She tries to focus on the road, on the machine roaring between her legs, on Blake's arms tight around her stomach. Thankfully, they make it with some time to spare. Yang parks the bike near Junior's club. She can feel her phone vibrating like crazy in her pocket, and she knows Tai and Summer must be trying to reach her, wondering where they disappeared. She turns off her phone, without even looking at it.

Her palms are sweaty, so she wipes them on the front of her jeans. She looks down at herself.

"God, I'm a mess," she whispers. Her hair is a disaster, there's a coffee stain on her white t-shirt, and her boots are dusty from the road. Anxiety rises to her mouth like bubbles in water, but before she has time to panic, Blake's hand taps her shoulder, gentle but firm.

"You look just fine. You'll be fine. I'm here, okay?"

Yang places her own hand on Blake's fingers, briefly, a silent thank you. Then she takes a deep breath, and opens the door.

They're both immediately assaulted by the noise, bass throbbing low like an anxious heartbeat, techno tunes filling the room. It's early evening, but the club is already packed with people dancing to the frantic rhythm. Yang blinks as her eyes get used to the flashing lights. She catches sight of Junior, behind the bar, and takes a few steps toward him.

As soon as he sees her, he beckons her to the left side of the bar. "She isn't here yet," he tells her, over the counter, talking loudly enough to be heard over the music. "Take a seat, blondie. I'll make you a drink."

"I'm good," Yang says. She wants to keep her head clear - this is too important. Blake touches her shoulder again, and moves closer, so she can whisper in Yang's ear. "Do you want me to wait with you?"

Yang shakes her head. "No. I have to do this on my own."

Blake nods, and gives her shoulder one last soft squeeze, before she makes her way to the other side of the bar, far enough that she's out of earshot, but still in Yang's field of vision.

Yang sits on a bar stool, and waits. God, she hates waiting. Junior slides a can of soda and some peanuts her way, and she munches on them distractedly, eyes on the door.

A few minutes pass, then a few more. She looks over to where Blake is sitting, and frowns. A tall dude with an unfortunate man-bun is chatting her up, smiling, standing way too close for comfort. Dread fills Yang's chest in an instant, but just as quickly it dissipates, as Blake says something that must be a serious burn, judging by the look on the guy's face.

He leaves, dejected, but now Yang can't help but notice how many men are looking at Blake. Two guys in suits are leering at her from the middle of the dance floor - Blake ignores them, but it still makes Yang clench her jaw. A man sporting a questionable mustache pushes a shot glass towards Blake with a wink - this time, Yang almost laughs out loud as Blake doesn't miss a beat and pushes it right back towards him. She catches another creep out of the corner of her eye, a guy in dark clothes staring at Blake from a table near the wall, his bright red hair shining under the superficial lights.

Yang breathes out. She burns with the urge to tell them all to fuck off and leave Blake alone, but she refrains from intervening. Blake's a big girl, she can take care of herself. Besides, Yang needs to focus on Raven.

Just as she turns away from Blake, the door to the club opens, a woman walks in, and Yang's breath hitches. She looks so familiar, is her first thought as the woman moves through the crowd towards the bar. It's like looking at her reflection in a distorted mirror. Her hair is dark and unruly, her eyes brown with a reddish glint - but they share the same height, the same round face.

The woman - Raven - stops in her tracks. She takes Yang in, giving her one long, slow, appraising look. Yang doesn't move, petrified. "Yang," Raven says, almost too low for Yang to hear - and it can't just be her imagination, there's awe and wonder in her voice. Yang feels sudden hope, but before she has time to react, Raven smirks.

"You take after your father," she says, nonchalantly, as she hops on the stool next to Yang. Her voice is clear and confident, her posture alert.

Yang swallows. "Hi," she manages, and then her throat closes up and she can't talk. She's dreamed of this moment so often - how it would feel, what she would say. She's mentally written so many speeches, she's imagined a thousand scenarios. Nothing could have prepared her for the reality of Raven Branwen, her mother, sitting in front of her for the first time in eighteen years.

"How do you know who I am?"

Raven shrugs. "You're just like me when I was your age." She gestures to Junior, and glances at Yang. "What are you drinking?"

"Nothing," Yang says. It comes out a little curt, almost defensive. Raven quirks an eyebrow.

"Though the similarities are only physical, it seems."

Junior brings her a glass of something dark, and Raven takes a big gulp, before turning back to Yang. "How did you find me anyway?"

Junior tenses behind the bar, but Yang keeps her cool. "Uncle Qrow."

Raven hums, disapproving. "Of course. That drunk idiot has never been able to keep his mouth shut."

"Hey! Don't talk about my family like that!"

Raven chuckles, and raises both hands in mock surrender. Yang looks at her, then, and her chest feels heavy, like a great weight is pushing against her ribcage, crushing her collarbones. The woman in front of her is nothing like she thought. She's perfectly happy to have a conversation with the child she abandoned at birth, yet she shows not remorse. She acts indifferent, but she's still invested in Yang, somehow. It's not enough, but it's also not nothing, and Yang is lost, confused, heartbroken, all at once.

"Why did you leave?" she says, hating the way her voice wobbles.

Raven looks at her glass, then downs the rest of the alcohol. "You shouldn't have come," she whispers instead of answering, not looking at Yang. "This was a mistake. If I'd known…"

"I don't care!" Yang snaps, but before she can say anything else, there's a loud noise by the door, and sirens echo from the street, and the music stops abruptly.

"I'm sorry," Raven says, standing up from her seat. She sounds sincere, her eyes apologetic as she takes one last look at her daughter, and then she moves so fast that in an instant she's gone, vanishing in the crowd like a ghost.

Yang wants to runs after her, but she's frozen in place. She watches, lost in a daze, Junior swearing loudly and rushing to the back door, only to be pushed back inside by two police men. Police officers are everywhere, people groaning in annoyance and confusion as they get carded and told to disperse. She realizes distantly that Blake is standing at her side, grabbing the sleeve of her jacket, trying to get her to move - but it's too late.

A police man comes up to them and asks for their IDs. "Under 21," he notes, flashing his light in their eyes. "You two been drinking?"

"No," Yang says, distracted. She's still thinking of Raven, eyes scouring the crowd with the vague hope that she'll be here, somewhere, still within reach. Everything just happened so terribly fast.

The police man sighs. "You got a phone on you, kid?"

Yang frowns. "Yeah, why?"

"Call your parents."

The drive home is three hours of excruciatingly tense silence.

Tai was already halfway to Vale when Yang called, searching for the two of them, so when he pulls up in front of the club a little more than an hour later, and sees them sitting on the sidewalk, surrounded by the police, he rushes over and hugs Yang, eyes filled with worry. As soon as he finishes talking with the police officer in charge of them, though, his face closes.

"In the car," he orders curtly, gesturing to Yang and Blake. "We're going home. We'll come back for your bike another day."

They comply in silence, and he doesn't utter another word for the remainder of the trip. Yang presses her cheek against the cold, hard window panel, and closes her eyes. She hears Blake fidgeting with her seatbelt next to her, but she can't bring herself to say anything. Her stomach curdles like spoiled cream, and she's afraid she's gonna be sick if she opens her mouth. Part of her wants to cry, wants to tell her dad what happened and sob into his shoulder, the way she used to when she was a little girl. But this is not as simple a wound as a scratched knee, and the other part of her, the louder part of her, wants to smash the car window open.

This was her one chance, and now Raven's gone, and she might never find her again. Yang clenches her fists, so tight her nails leave red half-circles imprints on her palms. When they finally reach the house in Patch, her sadness has solidified into anger, and she feels numb except for the middle of her chest, burning with rage and disappointment.

Summer is waiting for them in the living room. When she sees Yang and Blake unharmed and safe, she lets out a sigh of relief, before her eyes narrow and she points to the couch. "Sit."

Yang plops down on the couch, not bothering to hide her frustration. She knows she's in for a lecture, and she's not in the mood for it. Every time she blinks, she sees Raven's face, and Raven's words are still ringing in her ears, and she wants to scream her throat raw.

"What in the world where you two thinking?" Summer asks as she starts pacing in front of them. Tai leans against the door to the kitchen, his arms crossed against his chest, lips curving down in a frown.

Blake looks at Yang, unsure. Yang shrugs. "We just wanted to have fun. It's not a crime."

"The truth, Yang," Summer replies, stern and no-nonsense, like always when she's seriously pissed off. She takes a deep breath, and softens. "You've never done anything like this. You've always been a good kid…"

"Well, I'm not a kid anymore!" Yang snaps, too loud. The anger inside her spills out like boiling milk. "We're not kids. We're both eighteen! Blake's turning nineteen in a month!"

"That's still way too young to go to a club like this one, and you know it," Tai snaps back, just as loud. "Not to mention that you two disobeyed one of the only rules we have, and left without telling anyone. Do you know how worried we were?"

Blake winces, and speaks for the first time since they got in the car. "I'm… I'm so sorry about everything…"

"Don't fucking apologize," Yang interrupts, glaring at her parents.

"Yang, calm down," Summer scolds. "You're not helping your case."

"This is ridiculous!" Yang explodes, standing up. "Okay, fine, we're not twenty-one and shouldn't have gone to that stupid club, and we should have told you about it, whatever. Big fucking deal! We didn't do anything wrong, we didn't drink, we didn't get arrested, we're both adults, for fuck's sake!"

"If you want to be treated like an adult, how about you start acting like one," Summer retorts, calmly facing Yang. "Stop yelling at us, and tell us what's really going on. You're already in enough trouble as it is."

"Shut up! You're not my fucking mom."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Yang immediately regrets them. There's a flicker of hurt in Summer's eyes, and Blake's mouth opens in shock. Silence stretches between the four of them. Yang knows they all expect her to apologize for the outburst, but she clenches her teeth together, stubbornly refusing to talk. She's been itching for a fight for hours - she won't back down now.

"Okay," Tai says. He sounds more sad than angry, now, and his voice makes Yang's chest sting with sudden guilt. "I think that's enough for tonight. We're all tired. You two, go upstairs. We'll resume this conversation later."

Yang doesn't look anyone in the eye as she storms off.

She runs up the stairs and slams the door behind her and yeah, maybe she's a little ashamed of the way she's acting, like she's fourteen years old again. But this night has been a lot, and she is overwhelmed and hurting and too wound up to care. It's only when she throws herself on her bed and hides her face in the pillow that the tears come.

Yang doesn't cry very often, but when she does, it's a violent affair, sobs racking her body while she struggles to breathe through the tears, pressing her fists to her eyelids so hard she sees stars. She wants to scream and punch something and curl up in a ball and disappear for a while, and she's so utterly lost in her emotions, she barely hears the door open and close. A warm hand touches her arm.

"Yang," Blake says, softly. It sounds like a question.

Yang cries harder, unable to speak.

Blake sits on the edge of the bed, and doesn't say anything else, but she strokes Yang's back, fingers slowly running down the line of her spine, and then all the way up to her shoulder blades. Her hand cups the nape of Yang's neck for a brief moment, before she starts rubbing small circles into Yang's skin.

It's soothing, unexpectedly so, the way Blake touches her, the quietness of her, the warm, light weight of her fingertips. It anchors Yang, and gradually, she calms down, until the tears stop altogether, until her breath evens out. She rolls around and looks up at Blake wordlessly, a little self-conscious but mostly just terribly vulnerable. Blake brushes wet hair away from her face. "Let's get you in your pajamas, alright?"

Yang sniffles, and nods. Blake hands her a tank top and some sleep shorts, and changes into her night dress. Yang feels like she's underwater, like she's drunk on emotions and tears, moving through the motions absently.

When they're both dressed for the night, Blake guides her back to the bed, tucks wild locks of hair behind her ear, nails scratching her scalp gently. "Come on, go to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning, I promise."

Blake straightens, like she's about to get up and leave for her own bed, and suddenly the perspective of sleeping alone is terrifying. Yang's hand shoots up and she catches Blake's wrist.

"Stay," she murmurs. It sounds like she's begging, but she doesn't give a damn. She stares at Blake. "Please."

Blake looks at her with eyes so soft it almost makes her cry again, and nods. "Of course." She lies next to Yang and puts an arm around Yang's body. "I'm not going anywhere," she says, low and sure. Yang feels her breath against the back of her neck, and she shivers.

This is how she falls asleep, with sore eyes and a damp pillow, and the comforting weight of Blake's arm around her waist.