Chapter 22: Lost in the Storm

Yang fell, surrounded by mist and impenetrable fog. Her entire abdomen throbbed with pain from her wound. Had she been on the ground, she doubted she would've been able to stand.

Yang had no idea how far she'd fallen already, but she knew she was only seconds away from meeting a sudden and grisly demise. She rolled onto her belly and transformed into a bird. Flapping her wings was out of the question, but she spread them wide and began to turn her fall into a glide. She'd never really thought about it before now, but it seemed ridiculous that the magic within her could alter every single part of her body into something completely different, but it couldn't do anything about a mundane stab wound. What kind of lousy discount wizard had her mom taken her to all those years ago?

The clouds suddenly parted in front of Yang, and she saw the rocky, snow-covered ground below her. It was a lot closer than she'd expected, and although she was gliding now, she was still descending much faster than she would've liked. She tilted her wings to try to slow herself down more, but even that small act felt like it took an enormous amount of effort.

Just before Yang collided with the ground, she transformed again. Human bodies were much better at absorbing impacts than avian ones. Even so, when Yang hit she felt a jolt of pain shoot through her. She hadn't managed to bleed off as much speed as she'd hoped, and she went tumbling forward in a tangle of limbs. With no aura left, she felt each and every rock and bump in the ground as they buffeted her, but eventually, she slid to a stop, ending face up and flat on her back.

It was snowing in earnest now, and the freezing-cold flakes immediately began to accumulate on top of Yang's body. Yang stared listlessly up at the sky. Between the crippling pain and numbing cold it was taking all that she had to stay conscious. But despite the serious injury Ilia had inflicted on her, she knew that her aura would have her back on her feet in no time. However, that presupposed she didn't freeze to death or die of exposure in the meantime. For just a brief moment, Yang contemplated if that would be such a bad thing. She'd already done what she'd needed to do. There was no way Blake could return to the White Fang now. She was safe. However, Yang then imagined Blake stumbling across her frozen corpse out here in this desolate wasteland and how traumatizing that would be for her.

A swell of determination filled Yang. She'd already done more than enough to hurt Blake. She needed to live, for Blake's sake if not her own. After a few failed attempts, she managed to roll over onto her belly. Her first priority was to find shelter. She didn't know how she was going to do that, but it would certainly require her to get moving. Standing, much less walking, was leagues beyond her at the moment, so she started dragging herself forward.

The weather seemed to respond to Yang's sudden desire to survive by worsening, as if some angry storm god was determined to claim her. The wind whipped across Yang's face, and the snow swirled blindingly in front of her. She felt her fingers and toes going numb from the cold, but she continued to inch forward bit by bit. However, she hadn't gotten far before her arms suddenly gave out, and she collapsed.

Yang felt dizzy and lightheaded. She wasn't sure what was wrong with her beyond the obvious. However, when she glanced behind herself she saw a trail of blood staining the ground she'd crawled over, although the falling snow was quickly erasing any evidence of its existence. Yang realized she was still bleeding. If she didn't get her wound bandaged up soon she'd pass out long before she could get anywhere safe.

Yang tried to sit up or roll onto her back, but she was too faint from blood loss to do anything other than lie there. A quiet but all-consuming panic started rising up in her. She needed help, but there wasn't anyone there to help her.

"Blake," Yang said softly. The name was a prayer on her lips. It was her last wish. It was her hope beyond hope.

Yang felt the shadow of unconsciousness closing in on her. Her vision began going dark. But then she saw it, a figure moving in the storm. And whoever it was, they were getting closer.

Yang feebly reached her hand out. She whispered, "Blake."

The wind howled and the snow fell. Yang's head sunk low. She couldn't really see anything anymore. Her eyes closed. But the last sensation she felt before she lost consciousness was a strong pair of arms lifting her up, like an angel come to guide her to paradise.

Even before Yang was fully awake, she was aware of being warm. She slowly pried her eyes open. She was confused by what she saw at first, but her addled brain slowly made sense of what she was looking at.

Yang found herself inside a cave, although it was really more of a tiny crevice in the rock. It couldn't have been more than a few meters wide and a few meters deep, and it wasn't even tall enough to fully stand up in. The wind and the snow outside were raging—the storm must have finally reached its peak—but a small, portable heater powered by red Dust was keeping the cave warm and cozy. A blanket had also been thrown over Yang, and several bottles of drinking water, some bags of emergency rations, and other odds and ends were neatly stacked up in the cave opposite her.

Yang turned her head to the side. She saw Blake sitting there. Blake had her knees up with her arms crossed over them. She looked completely lost in thought.

Yang opened her mouth to speak but ended up hacking and coughing. Her throat was horribly dry.

Blake seemed to perk up, but only a little. She shifted over and grabbed one of the water bottles. Then she uncapped it and held it up to Yang's lips.

Blake said, "Drink."

Yang took a few sips of the water. The cool liquid soothed her cough as it slid down her parched throat.

Now that Blake was facing her, Yang could see that Blake had a nasty-looking bruise covering most of her left cheek. It was intense enough that it was even hiding her scars. Yang knew she had been the one who had given the bruise to Blake. She tried not to think about it. Thanks to Blake's aura the bruise would fade within the hour. If only the same could be said for the emotional bruises.

Blake put the cap back on the bottle and set it down next to Yang. She said, "Keep sipping on this. There's food too when you get your appetite back."

"Where did you get all this stuff?" Yang asked.

"Weiss brought several crates of emergency supplies with her to the mine," Blake explained. "But it was too dangerous to move you that far. So I brought the supplies here instead."

Blake pulled Yang's blanket back. There was a band of white cloth tied around Yang's torso which was acting as a makeshift bandage. Blake's jacket was missing, and Yang suspected it was what Blake had used to patch her up.

Blake untied the bandage. She reached for a small metal box over by the supplies and dragged it closer. She opened it up. The box turned out to be a basic first aid kit. Blake rummaged through the kit and pulled out a bottle that looked like it was filled with a gel. Yang guessed it was an antibiotic or something like that. Blake squeezed some of the gel out onto her fingers and began to gently apply it around Yang's wound.

Yang stole a glimpse at where she'd been stabbed. While she'd been asleep her aura had obviously been hard at work. Her wound had already mostly closed, but there was a patch of angry, red flesh in its place. It would no doubt leave a scar, but Yang didn't care about that.

Blake put the bottle of gel back into the first aid kid. Then she reached in again and pulled out some proper bandages. She redressed Yang's wound. Then, apparently satisfied she'd done everything she could, she pulled Yang's blanket back up and tucked it into place.

Blake looked up at Yang. Her eyes were dull and lifeless. Yang had been expecting to see anger in them. This was so much worse.

Blake said, "I couldn't believe the state you were in when I found you. What happened?"

"Ilia stabbed me," Yang said.

"I'm surprised she managed to get the drop on you," Blake said.

"She didn't," Yang said. "I let her stab me."

Blake's cat-like ears twitched, but it was her only betrayal of emotion.

Yang realized she needed to explain herself. She said, "This way they think we're both dead. No loose ends."

Blake didn't say anything. She just scooted back and sat against the rocky wall opposite Yang.

The silence that followed was so absolute that not even the intense wind rushing past the mouth of the cave seemed to be able to penetrate it. Blake looked like she was lost in a miasma of nothingness. Yang felt worse and worse with each passing second, and it didn't have anything to do with her injuries.

Against her will, Yang's eyes fixated on the bruise covering Blake's cheek. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. The patch of darkened skin hurled accusations at Yang, accusations she couldn't deny. The silence surrounding her grew deafeningly loud.

Eventually, Yang managed to tear her eyes away. She tried to collect herself. Then she looked directly at Blake again and said, "I'm not going to ask you to forgive me. But I'm also not going to apologize."

There was a tiny shift in Blake's eyes. It was subtle, but all of a sudden, she was present once more.

Yang said, "I did what I had to do to save your life."

"It wasn't necessary," Blake said.

"Yes it was," Yang insisted.

"You don't know that," Blake said.

"Yuma was about to make his move!" Yang said, forcefully this time.

Blake looked stunned, or at least a mild approximation of stunned. She said, "He wouldn't have dared. Not then. We were there to rescue people, to rescue our fellow faunus."

"You said it yourself, Blake. Anyone who didn't want to be a terrorist left the White Fang a long time ago," Yang said. "And it wasn't just him! He had Fiona there and others too. Eleven, twelve, I don't know how many of them. The only reason you're still alive right now is because I started his little revolution before he could!"

Blake turned her head away for a moment. She had the look of someone who hated what they were hearing because they were afraid it might be true.

Eventually, Blake looked back at Yang and said, "You could have warned me."

"I did warn you!" Yang said. She felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "You think I wanted this to happen!? It was the only thing I could do! I wasn't going to stand there and watch you die!"

Blake seemed to slump lower where she sat. She was still for a minute or two, obviously lost in thought. Then she pulled her scroll out of her pocket and started tapping on it.

"What are you doing?" Yang asked.

"Messaging Weiss to come pick you up," Blake said.

"You mean pick us up, right?" Yang asked.

Blake tapped at her scroll a few more times. Then she reached over and set the scroll down next to Yang. She said, "I've turned on the emergency signal. If my scroll runs out of power before Weiss gets here, turn yours on."

"Blake, what are you doing?" Yang asked.

Blake pushed off of the rocky wall and crawled over to the mouth of the cave. Without even a glance over her shoulder, she said, "Don't look for me. You won't find me."

"Blake!" Yang shouted in alarm. "Wait! Don't!"

It was too late. Blake slipped out of the cave and into the storm. In an instant, she was gone.

Yang tried to push herself up to follow Blake, but the moment she did her entire body screamed in pain. She collapsed back against the cave wall. Undaunted, she made another attempt to get up, but it went just as well as the first. She sat there feeling helpless and impotent as she tried to figure out what to do. Then reality finally came crashing down on her. Blake was gone, and she wasn't coming back.

A wracking emotion slowly crept through Yang. She didn't have the words to describe it except to say that it felt like dying. Her breath hitched, and she felt like she was suffocating. She blinked, and tears poured from her eyes in steady streams. She felt cold in a way that neither the blanket nor the heater could alleviate. The walls of the cave pressed in like they were the walls of her tomb. Blake was gone.

Yang's hand absently found Blake's scroll. Her fingers curled around it and lifted it up. The screen helpfully indicated that the scroll was broadcasting an emergency signal which Yang knew would eventually summon Ruby and Weiss, but there was a tiny button at the bottom of the screen that would turn the signal off.

Yang's thumb hovered over the button on the scroll. One tap and she could disappear forever. All she would have to do was wait for the snow to swallow her up. Her entire body trembled. She stared bleary-eyed at the screen. Her breath came in short gasps. But then she moved her thumb away.

Blake's scroll slipped from Yang's hand and fell the short distance back down to the cave's floor, still broadcasting its signal to anyone who cared to listen. Yang closed her eyes. Then grief finally began to flow freely from her. She wailed and sobbed, but in a way it felt cleansing. Blake was gone, but she was alive. Blake was gone, but she was safe. Yang had finally figured out what the price for Blake's life was, and she had gladly paid it.

Author's Note: So…. Would you believe me if I said this story has a happy ending? Because it does. It will take a while to get there, but everything will eventually be (mostly?) alright.

(I just can't resist passing up an opportunity to take a potshot at Ozpin, can I. That guy really rubs me the wrong way. I don't even know why.)

As always, I welcome constructive criticism. Please feel free to leave a review. And if you like what you've read, taking the time to favorite and/or follow really helps me out. You can also find me on tumblr (electronicyarn) if you want to send me a message or be notified of updates.