Quick content warning for emotional abuse in the beginning of this chapter.

It wasn't a dream that woke Weiss up. It was the moment when her dreaming self remembered turning off her scroll. She went from unconscious to upright without any of the usual steps in between. One instant she was out cold, and the next she was holding her scroll, fumbling to switch it on and finding a series of messages that made her stomach turn.

"Did you know about this?" it demanded.

And then, several minutes later, "Pick up your scroll. Now."

And when she didn't, because she'd completely forgotten about it, "Is this the sort of attitude you've picked up at Beacon?"

Weiss scrambled out of bed. She checked the time—a little after six. There was still time to talk to him before they went to see Blake. So she made to hit the button, and realized just in time that her wings were still out. She wrapped them hurriedly, pinning the bindings in place before sitting down at the small desk in the corner of the room, a few feet from Blake's unused bed. With a final deep breath to brace herself, she called him.

"It's about time."

She winced. "I'm sorry. I wasn't sure how much I was allowed to say about the trial."

"I already know everything there is to know about the proceedings," Father said dismissively. "According to James they're still looking into it, as if it's any mystery when the boy pointed her out in front of the entire council."

Weiss' mouth went very dry.

"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"No! No, I—well, I knew she was like me, obviously, but I didn't know she was with them."

"She is not like you," he snapped. "I raised you better than that."

Her stomach lurched, as if it was trying to soar and sink at the same time. There was a long silence, and she realized he was waiting for an answer. "Right..."

"Right. You don't lash out like a wild animal, do you?"

"No."

"You know how to listen, don't you?"

"Yes."

"That's my girl."

She felt weightless. She felt sick. She was the perfect fraud—leeching praise from Blake and then selling her for more.

"I trust you'll ensure your testimony puts them both away." A scoff. "As soon as James does his job, at least."

Weiss couldn't speak.

"Afterwards, perhaps you'll return home while the coliseum is repaired. Your mother misses you very much."

"I—I have to go," Weiss stammered. "There's a meeting with the prosecution soon."

"Of course."

She jabbed the end call button and darted out of her room, nearly crashing into Yang as she went.

"Whoa." Warm hands gripped her by the shoulders to steady her. "Sorry about that. We were just about to knock. It's time to go talk to Blake, and I wasn't sure you were up... yet..." Her brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Weiss shoved her scroll in her pocket—much too late. The motion only drew Yang's attention. Her eyes flashed red. "Your dad again?"

There was no point denying it. She nodded. And then, to her horror, she started to cry.

"Hey, hey..." Yang's expression turned terrifyingly soft. "You're okay, I promise. Whatever he said, it's not true. He was only saying it to hurt you."

Yang thought he'd been shouting. She was reaching out, and her hands were so gentle, and she didn't know, and Weiss was never going to tell her because she was too selfish to lose this.

"Don't," she blurted, pushing Yang's arms away. She squeezed her eyes shut and counted to three. When she opened them again, they were dry. "Let's just go."

Yang hesitated, but then Ruby came out of their room and she let it drop. Well, sort of. She didn't say anything, but that didn't stop her from shooting concerned looks at Weiss all the way to Blake's hiding place.

The burned-out house was just as they'd left it. They slipped in through the back, stepping over the charred remains of a welcome mat. Blake was upstairs, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the same bedroom as before. She didn't look like she'd slept. Her mouth opened—

"Just!" Yang held the scrap of paper out like a shield. "Look at this before you say anything."

Frowning, she took it and squinted at the seemingly meaningless string of letters and numbers. Her eyes widened.

"It's them, isn't it," Weiss said. It wasn't a question, but Blake nodded anyway.

"It's old." She ran a thumb over the page, smoothing it almost reverently. "Really old, I mean. We changed codes a lot, usually once a week, but this is the first one I learned. Before my parents left."

"Is that supposed to mean something?"

"I hope so." She squared her shoulders and tucked the paper into her pocket. "It's an address."

"Are you going to go?" asked Yang.

Blake made a face. "I don't know if I have a choice. I tried making plans last night, but I can't get out of Atlas without taking an airship, and that's just not an option for me right now."

"But they can help you, right?" Weiss shifted uneasily as they all turned to stare at her. "What?"

"I'm just—you sound... strangely okay with this."

Okay was not a word Weiss would have used to describe anything about herself, at the moment. But if Blake were caught, and this came to another court case, and she had to testify... she'd rather go to the Grimm for help than let that happen.

She couldn't talk about that. "I still don't trust them," she said instead. "There's no way we're letting you go alone when it might be a trap."

"This is my mess," Blake insisted. "I'm the one who needs to risk it, so I'm the one who's going. I've gotten the three of you into enough trouble as it is."

"But that wasn't your fault!" There was a stubborn set to Ruby's jaw—no one was going to dissuade her from this now. "We're your friends, we're not going to just sit here while you might be in danger!"

"Precisely," said Weiss.

In retrospect, she should not have spoken.

Ruby's eyes widened. "That is not what I meant!"

"Oh, hell no!" Yang blurted, at exactly the same time.

"Weiss, you know you're in way more danger from all of this than we are—" Blake began.

"Believe it or not I haven't missed the numerous threats on my life," Weiss snapped. "I'm not suggesting that I'd like to march straight into their evil clutches. But I will not sit around in an abandoned ruin wondering if the three of you are dead for however long this takes. I'll stay close by, and hidden, and frankly Yang and Ruby might as well do the same since I can't imagine the White Fang will take kindly to you bringing a pair of humans along."

So that was how Weiss and the sisters wound up hiding behind a car about a block away from a fitness center that was closed for renovations. Blake continued past them, wearing one of Yang's hoodies with her head ducked low to hide her face. They were near the rim of the city—the area was still nice, but mostly residential and nearly deserted in the middle of the day. She was struck by an apartment across the street that bore the scars of a recent fire.

More arson, no doubt. There'd been a string of incidents like that a couple years ago, but it hadn't been nearly this bad when she left for Beacon. The White Fang really did have some nerve asking Blake to meet them right next to the scene of their crime.

Weiss watched through the windows of the car as Blake turned the corner. Her hand dipped into her pocket to touch her scroll. Blake had promised to message them in an emergency, and anyway this would take more than a few seconds. She tried to relax.

A tall figure rounded the corner. They strode down the street at a brisk walk, stopping about fifteen feet away. Then they looked directly at the team's hiding place, raised a hand, and beckoned.

They glanced at each other, wide-eyed. When the figure beckoned again, Yang motioned for Weiss to stay put and came out from behind the car. "Uh, hey—"

"Rose. Schnee. You might as well come out too."

Weiss jumped at the gruff baritone, clearly addressing them despite the fact that its owner couldn't see them. She inched around the car and cringed at the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered faunus. A pair of floppy canine ears framed a long, slightly drooping face with deep-set brown eyes. They had one hand inside their jacket, as if to rest it on a weapon. Not sure what else to do, Weiss followed Ruby over to the corner. Blake was there—her racing heartbeat slowed just a little.

The guard relieved both Weiss and Ruby of their weapons. Then they narrowed their eyes and took a deep sniff. Their gaze fixed on Yang's gauntlets, currently inactive and as inconspicuous as they could get. "You'll leave those outside."

"Uh..."

"Unless you want to wait out here with me."

Yang took off the gauntlets.

They weren't quite done. One eyebrow quirked upwards as they zeroed in on Weiss. She went stiff, waiting for the attack—but they only sniffed again and frowned. "You wearing down, Schnee?"

Her heart nearly stopped. Their sense of smell must be even better than her own—so good that not even the bindings could mask her growing feathers. "Probably my blankets," she said, covering her fear with irritation. "Considering I was dragged out here at such an unreasonable hour."

"You'd better learn some manners fast," they said, their voice dropping dangerously. "Considering how lucky you are she gave orders to let you in." Pushing the door open with one arm, they held it for Blake, and the sisters, then let it swing shut so that Weiss had to fumble to catch it. All in all? She'd expected a lot worse.

Inside was a dark, cramped hallway. One security camera squatted near the ceiling, with the ends of cut wires poking out of its gutted insides. So they were probably breaking and entering. Wonderful.

At the end of the hall, they came to another door. Plain, nondescript, with a push bar to open it. There was a little box of Atlas Academy fliers hanging from it, along with a note reminding employees to hand them out to promising young athletes. Blake opened it, leading the group as they stepped inside.

The only light in the room was a handful of candles sitting on heating vents at the edges of the room. Even the gloom couldn't hide that this was obviously a break room—painfully normal in its beige wall paint and collection of personalized mugs. At the head of a plastic fold-out table sat a faunus woman who fit this space like a scimitar in a sandbox.

Her eyes glowed just like Blake's sometimes did. It was obviously intentional, an effect of the mood lighting that had been calculated to put them off balance. An affectation that might have come off as absurd, except that she lounged in her cheap-plastic chair with such easy confidence that her mere presence gave it the air of a throne.

Her tiger's ears glittered with gold rings that caught the light, making them impossible to ignore—as did her striped tattoos, a permanent rejection of humanity written across her skin. She wasn't just a faunus. She was a faunus brazenly, unapologetically, aggressively. She shouted it in every line of her body, and dared the world to challenge her.

For several excruciating seconds, Weiss was completely incapable of forming coherent thoughts. She stood there, gaping, her stomach doing flips as she struggled to process what she was seeing. Then Blake said, "Aunt Sienna?" and her mind came to a halt as sudden and screeching as a car wreck.

"Blake." Sienna—as in Sienna Khan, leader of the White Fang—shifted in her seat, propping one ankle on the opposite knee. "I see you brought your teammates."

Blake nodded, her ears pinning back nervously. "I want them here. I trust them."

Sienna gave Weiss a searching look that made her feel rather like she'd just tipped off a cliff. "I thought you might. Very well—you're putting only yourself at risk."

"Um." Ruby shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "Your note said you could help Blake, right?"

"It did, and I will."

Yang folded her arms across her chest. "Why? I thought Adam worked for you."

"Adam Taurus came closer to killing Mantle's White Fang with this stunt than James Ironwood has managed in over a decade of trying. He brought this on himself."

Yang nodded, her posture relaxing slightly.

"I appreciate this," said Blake. "I really do. I just don't know how much there is to do. Now that they know, it's only a matter of time..." She trailed off, wilting slightly under the weight of Sienna's raised eyebrow.

"I've never had much faith in human courts," she said dryly, "but I am sure of one thing—it's not you Atlas wants. It's Adam. If you refuse to testify unless they give you amnesty, they'll do it."

"But why? They could go after us both."

"They could," Sienna allowed, "but they won't. You're Ghira's daughter, so they can't charge you without evidence that's going to be very difficult to find, considering you were never caught. Making an example of you would be difficult and potentially disastrous, so they're not going to do it if they could have more ammunition against Adam instead."

"So... I'm just supposed to blame everything on him?" Blake looked at the ground. "I can't do that."

"That's... admirable," Sienna said, in the tones of someone who just had to go hunting for a kinder word than idiotic. "I can't say I relish the idea of playing into their hands on this, but he's made it impossible to stop what they're trying to do to him without damning you in the process. That was his choice. You don't owe him any more loyalty than he's shown you."

Blake shook her head. "That's not it. This isn't about protecting him, it's... everything I did, everything I watched him do, I could have said no. I could have tried to stop him, and I didn't, and that's my fault."

"That's not fair," Yang protested. "He almost killed us both a few days ago, what were you supposed to do when you were on your own?"

"Something!" Blake threw her hands up in frustration. "I was supposed to do something!"

"Enough." Sienna held up a hand, cutting them both off before they could start to argue. "Come here." She got to her feet, beckoning Blake closer until she stood a few feet from the older faunus.

"If that's really what you think," she said, "then I failed you more badly than I realized."

Blake looked, if anything, even more stunned than Weiss felt. She stood stiff as a board, staring wide-eyed at Sienna as she blurted, "Huh?"

"Stopping Adam was never your responsibility, Blake. It was mine. You were a child—I know you didn't like to be called one, but you were. I encouraged him when I realized he had a following. I dismissed the warning signs because he had good reason to be angry. I let him build up his influence in Vale until I lost control of the branch. You got out. You survived, and that's all anyone had the right to expect from you."

"I—but—that's—" Blake stammered.

"You'll survive this, too," Sienna said, with iron certainty. "If they refuse to give you amnesty, get a message to the Albains and I will get you safely to Menagerie. I owe you that much and more."

Blake swallowed hard. "Okay."

"Good." Sienna clasped her shoulder. "You know how to contact me. With any luck, I won't need to see you again except on the news."

They started to leave—Blake in the lead, with Weiss trailing after the sisters. But she hesitated in the doorway, stopped by a familiar magnetic tug. She turned her head to catch one last glimpse. The arresting glow of Sienna's eyes froze her for a heartbeat, her whole body thrumming with some strange energy she couldn't identify—almost like a caffeine buzz. Sienna smirked, revealing one of her canines.

Weiss scurried out of the room, her heart pounding, and tucked herself between her teammates.

"Amnesty."

Shifting uneasily under General Ironwood's gaze, Blake nodded once.

"Unbelievable," Meringue scoffed. "You're in no position to make demands! After everything you—"

Ironwood put up a hand, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "I'm sure we can work out a reduced sentence," he said. "Especially since you were still a minor at the time."

"A reduced sentence for what?" Ruby asked innocently.

There was a confused pause. "A reduced sentence," Ironwood said slowly, "For crimes committed while part of the White Fang."

Yang gave him the fakest smile Weiss had ever seen. "Which are...?"

Meringue snapped. "This is ridiculous! There are multiple counts of vandalism and trespassing—!"

"That's interesting," Weiss said. She couldn't muster any semblance of politeness, so she bared her teeth instead. "I read an awful lot about Atlesian law this week. How many of those cases happened within the past two years? Before the statute of limitations was up?"

"She infiltrated a Huntsman Academy under false pretenses!"

Yang's grin widened. Combined with her now blood-red eyes, it did not look remotely friendly. "What, saying she was human? That might be illegal around here, but not in Vale. Which is where Beacon is."

The lawyer's face started to turn red. "She collaborated with a known mass-murderer."

"I never helped him kill anyone," Blake said, quiet but firm. "I told him to stop, and he didn't. That's why I left."

"Oh, such a shining hero," Meringue scoffed. "How dare—"

Ironwood brought his fist down on the desk with a bang that silenced the room so thoroughly, Weiss suspected most of them had stopped breathing. "Enough," he said. "However dishonorable her conduct might have been, she's demonstrated a clear desire to do better in the future. I don't see any reason to waste time and resources on forcing the issue when we don't have to."

"She's admitted to being an enemy of Atlas!"

"Miss Meringue," he said coldly. "I will remind you that you work for me."

She shut up.

"Very well, Miss Belladonna. You will answer the prosecution's questions, truthfully, and in return you will be granted amnesty." He held out a hand for her to shake—but when she tried to drop it, he held her there and said, "I'm giving you a second chance. I hope you'll remember that favor going forward, and conduct yourself accordingly once you earn your license."

Blake's ears went back. "As a Huntress, I'll make sure to do everything I can to fight injustice."

"Excellent." Ironwood released her hand and smiled. "I look forward to working with you."