"Miss Branwen-Rose."

"Yes?"

"How is your hand?"

"Still can't move it, but the doctor says I'll be good in a couple more days."

"Would you like a replacement?"

"What?"

"A replacement. A new hand. Bionic. I know you know what that is."

"You're offering to fully chop off my perfectly good hand— which will heal and I've been given a specific time frame for— in favor of an extremely expensive, probably experimental machine prosthetic? Why?"

"Quicker recovery."

"Why would I need that?"

"Because your team is going on their mission without you."

"Oh hell no they are NOT—"

"Miss Rose, watch your tone."

"It's quite alright, Glyn."

"No it is not! I won't let you coerce me again! I want to talk to my parents!"

"And tell them what?"

"O-Oz—"

"No, Glynda, I want to hear this. Ruby, what would you tell them?"

"E-everything. All t-the… bullshit. The coercion!"

"Fan of that word, are you?"

"I will!"

"Mhm. And what do you think that'll achieve? Besides earning my ire— no, not even that much— my… annoyance?"

"I'll put you behind bars. This is illegal, I have rights."

"You think your mothers experienced it any differently?"

"W-what?"

"Headmaster—"

"Summer had it particularly hard, but she came around eventually. Just like you will. You'll have to, otherwise…"

"Otherwise what?"

"There are fates worse than death, Miss Ruby. And I have final say on exactly which missions you and your team go on."

"I— I—"

"'You— you—' what?"

"Ozpin!"

"Fuck you!"

"Ha! Now that would get me fired."

"Oz, for fuck's sake!"

"I'm recording this!"

"I don't care."

"I'll—"

"Miss Ruby, shut up. Respectfully, shut your mouth and quit acting like you're above all this. Not all of us are as laden with talent and ability as I know you are, so take your licks, roll with the punches, and quit mouthing off."

"I—"

"I'm—"

"I didn't want—"

"The best ones don't. You'll be among them, so long as you quit acting like a child and accept the responsibility of your power."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, be better."

"I… I don't want the hand. I'll listen, just… let me keep my hand. Please."

"Certain sacrifices—"

"Let her keep her damn hand, Oz."

"Fine. Keep your hand, Ruby. But this is your last chance. I expect you'll spend this solitude productively."

"S-solitude?"

"Your team members will still be going on the mission. You will stay here while your hand recovers."

"W-wait, I'm their—"

"Perhaps you should have considered that before you rejected my generous offer."

"Goodbye, Miss Branwen-Rose. Third give us luck, we won't have to meet like this again."

Ruby stared at her hand.

The scar started between thumb and forefinger, bright red and angry, but finally starting to heal. The mark went through the center of her palm, crossing from the edge of her hand to the base of her ring-finger. If she'd held onto that wire for a moment longer, she would've lost the whole top half of her hand.

Part of her wished she had. At least then she'd be more inclined to get the bionic, then she'd be able to return to her team and join the mission. Now she just had to sit there and stare at her shitty fingers. After a few days of rest and Aura repair, she could finally move them, but straining made pins and needles explode across her digits.

But fuck her for wanting to keep a perfectly recoverable hand, she guessed. She hadn't even gotten to wish her team luck in person.

RWBY GC

yangarang: gl w ur hand! love u ruby! ill take care of everyone dont worry!

rubrtubr: thx sis ily

BBdt4: tbh I can believe you got in a street fight with some 4th fanatic, what I can't believe is that it wasn't weiss

rubrtubr: lol yeah

THYFINALICYEMBRACE: I DO NOT ENGAGE IN STREET FIGHTS, OURS WOULD BE AN HONORABLE STREET DUEL

yangarang: ffs weiss turn off caps

THYFINALICYEMBRACE: HOW

rubrtubr: pls stay safe guys

That was the most she'd gotten. Further attempts to contact her team ended up unsent, which meant they were out of the Cross Continental Transmit System's coverage— not something hard to achieve, no, but it meant they were pretty far out from Greater Vale, probably in one of the Lesser Vale protectorates just beyond the GV border. That or they were in one of the Frontier towns or villages, which… well, Ruby tried not to think about that.

She'd gotten up here precisely to stop thinking about that.

She just… she wanted to see where it went so wrong. What she did. What she didn't do. What she could've done.

From the rooftop, Ruby could see the fresh patches of asphalt where Roman Torchwick's stupid rocket-jumping-cane-thing had once blown chunks out. She could picture pretty well her trail of combat from the store's interior and out into the street, but things got fuzzier from there. Whether it be the narcotics she'd woken up to muddling her memory, or the fact she'd been much too close to unconsciousness at the time, she couldn't remember her fight with Roman too well. Just flashes, mostly: the smokescreen from his cane, the stupid jumping, getting dragged along by her whipsword, him getting into an airship; all the images played in her mind like they were recounted in a game of telephone.

It was getting cold, but the cassock was thick and tight, doing well to hold in her body heat. She looked up. The moon was bright tonight, but she didn't know if it was waxed almost to full or just starting to wane.

Finding a nearby AC unit, Ruby clambered up, perching her talons over the edge of it and squatting down. So close to midnight, it wasn't running, probably just another closed shop. She felt… cool in this position, watching over the shop and remembering the robbery that'd changed her life. She casually felt around the belt system she'd clipped around her waist— it was one of those things they subtly encouraged all the Hunters-in-training to get by having them out and free to take in the requisition office, which Ruby supposed was reasonable. It came with a bunch of satchels and pouches, all durable synthetic fabric that hung heavily about her waist.

She was pretty sure she shouldn't have been allowed the gun, though.

She definitely didn't like it. She thought the mechanisms of guns were cool, but having them? Wielding them? Using them? No thanks. Her arms couldn't hold the recoil down, even on a smaller caliber like the 9mm she'd ordered, and they always made her forearms sore.

But she had it. She got it because she was supposed to be a good Huntress, and her uncle Qrow had told her that good Hunters have 'backups for days, kid, backups for days'. She kept a couple extra magazines on the front— one regular and one fire Dust— just in case she was exactly as bad of a shot as she used to be.

It was a blocky little thing, built with a black metal slide and everything else made from a grey, grippy plastic that Ruby hated touching. It felt bad, just having it. Like it was a sin. Like her mom would come around the corner and flick her between the eyes for 'using a coward's weapon'.

Her reforged buckler/sword rested in the same magnetic clip as always, a red disc sitting at her lower back. It was a lot more octagonal with the amount of individual articulating plates so significantly reduced, no longer needing the flexibility to change into a whipsword, now engineered to switch between 'KNIF', 'SSWD', 'LSWD', and 'RESET' on the dial, the last being selected for the compact shield form.

The wire-gauntlet was in a satchel on the right, with a black, plastic-plated glove tucked under the belt on the left. The protective glove wasn't perfect, but she'd have to make do with what the requisition office had until she could make her own.

Ruby jerked straight up, having been awoken by the falling feeling that strikes with sudden, unexpected slumber. She hadn't slept in… at all. Not since she talked to Ozpin, kept awake by the paranoia of her helpless body being taken, operated on, and waking up again with a bionic hand.

A sob cut its way out of her throat before she could choke it, opening the floodgates as she dropped her face in her hands and cried.

It'd been, what, three days since her team left? And here she was, already breaking down. Buckling before Ozpin. No sleep. Paranoid. Getting a gun that she hated. Trolling around on rooftops— what was wrong with her? What kind of leader let their whole team go on a mission without them? What kind of leader is as selfish as that, just for the sake of a shitty, torn-up hand?

And crying about it. That was the worst part. Her whole team was risking their lives while she got to sit up in her ivory tower, resting her boo-boos, and she cried about it. God. What if mom saw her?

'Eugh. Put those away, you're acting like a coward.'

Mum?

'Yeah, petal, you… you fucked up. No two ways about it. No use crying, either.'

Yang?

'Come on, Ruby, get up! I know you can do it! I know you're amazing! My expectations are astronomical!'

Weiss?

'Florabel?'

Oh, god, now she was thinking about Weiss? Come on! How could she possibly get more pathetic?

By doing the stupid fucking 'Florabel' tic, of course, which she proceeded to enrage herself with between sobs for the next however-many minutes. Did she not deserve nice things? Could she not just cry normally, like a normal person? Could she not have one damn minute of solitude without something fucking up?

"Suh, du—"

Ruby drew her buckler and launched herself off the AC unit, whirling as she landed, which had the unfortunate effect of making the whole world explode into stars. She stumbled on her feet, her useless bird-legs catching on themselves and sending her toppling down.

However, Ruby failed to hit the ground— roof, whatever— as the ongoing comedy-bit that was her life had this new person catching her around the waist like Pyrrha had. Ruby 'eep!'d as she was caught, her lids parting to an eyeful of hard, bronze abs. Her gaze panned over the two scars peeking out under the unbuttoned shirt of the similarly-hard chest. She looked up to the razor's-edge collarbones, then the sparse golden scruff on the neck, then that same scruff over an axe of a jawline. She noted the insane cheekbones, the crazily good nose, the downright-psychopathically perfect, sharp eyes, and the absolutely padded-room-begetting attractiveness of that tousled, messy blonde hair.

Ruby's nose scrunched up. "Ew, no thanks."

She was pulled up at once as her 'savior' threw his hands up, groaning, "Oh, come on! Just instantly, dude? Not even, like, 'suh dude what's your name?' 'Ahah suh dude I'm Sun,' 'Ahah sick dude, what's up?' Just 'ew, no thanks'?" He started patting his chest emphatically with both hands. "I! Am! Hot!"

Ruby felt herself start to stumble a little, only to be steadied at her waist despite this 'Sun' having both hands busy with his wild gesticulations. She looked down to discover a golden, prehensile monkey-tail around her abdomen. "Oh, you're a Faunus, too."

"I mean, what the hell!" he continued to bemoan, ignoring her. "I see some sad girl— super cute bytheway, I'd let you bury that nose into my skull like a pickaxe— literally crying her eyes out, brah, god forbid I try to make her feel better! Like, I just came to say hi! God, dude!"

Ruby blinked, but opted not to speak until the world stopped spinning beneath her.

Sun pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "N-no, sorry dude, no, that's a lie. I mean, kinda, but like… I mean I saw you on the news— the thing with that flying person— and I've kinda been, like… stalking you? A little? I just thought you seemed super cool, dude, I swear, it's not, like, creepy, dude."

Ruby opened her mouth. Sun continued.

"Then whaddya know dude you come back here, and I was like, 'holup brah I know this spot' and yah dude! You were on the news here, too! Like damn dude!"

Ruby eked out one syllable before Sun continued.

"Solike, yea bruh! It looked like you were having a moment so I let it be but I've got a strict 'don't let pretty girls cry' policy. Sorry if I scared you."

Ruby blushed a little— she wasn't used to being called pretty by anyone but mum— but that was the extent of Sun's flattery having an effect on her. "So lemme get this straight," she started. "You saw me on the news a bunch, stalked me, but only now confronted me? Three days after I would've been on the news? While I am clearly armed and under mental duress?"

Sun nodded, his tail unfurling from Ruby's waist as he rocked casually on his heels. "Yah, dude, I thought… y'know…" he motioned vaguely between her and him, his face taking a dark blush. "Faunus… not a lot of us… in this city… y'know…"

"I'm gay."

Sun winced. "Y-yeah, I… I figured. Sorry."

Ruby waved him off. "It's… whatever. Did you want something?"

"N-no, but—"

"Then please leave me alone," Ruby insisted, setting her weapon back on its magnetic clip. "I've got enough on my plate."

Sun reached for her, only to flinch back when Ruby started reaching for her weapon again. He raised his hands (and tail) disarmingly. "Sorry, brah, but, like… you know who that chick was, right? The flying one?"

Ruby regarded him with an expression of equal-parts curiosity and suspicion. "Penny."

"That's her name? Huh."

Ruby raised her eyebrows and rolled her wrist, bidding him to continue.

"Uh— yah, dude, she's, like, Fourth. Super Fourth." He looked Ruby up and down. "You're… Second, right?"

Ruby's lips drew into a line. "No," she stated, deadpan. "Not anymore, at least. This is just convenient for my traits."

"Oh, uh," he cast another glance at her outfit as if he was about to disagree, but Ruby's ensuing glare quieted him quickly. "A-anyways, dude… she's Fourth-Fourth."

"I figured that much."

"Okay, okay, but riddle me this:" he wiggled his eyebrows dramatically. "Why would she be in Vale?"

"I dunno, dude," Ruby answered, shaking her head furiously at her own use of 'dude' around this serial 'dude'-abuser. "Why would she be in Vale."

"Because there are Fourths in Vale, dude!" Sun exclaimed. "Militant Fourths! I've seen it!"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Sure you have."

Sun darted towards Ruby, wrapping her in his tail when her flinch made her stumble. He pulled out his phone, holding it before them. "See, I thought someone would say that brah, so I got evidence! Feast your eyes, dude!"

He opened his photos, and Ruby was immediately assaulted with a wall of ab-shots— 40, at least— before Sun could flick down and chuckle guiltily. "S-sorry, uh… those weren't mine."

"Yeah they were."

"Yeah, they were," Sun conceded instantly, opening another photo that didn't involve any of his muscles. "But this! Look!"

Ruby looked.

It did look like… something. The angle was shitty, and the resolution made it pretty obvious the whole thing was super zoomed in, but it was definitely something: people, packed tight in a brightly-lit building, all dressed in shades of scarlet and white. There was a person on a raised platform, robed arms extended, bright red and brighter white. Sun's finger occluded the image as he swiped to the next photo: another pic of what Ruby would hazard to guess was a rally, only more zoomed in on the central guy. There were more people behind him, more scarlet and white, slightly too blurry to make out more than the vague outline of their faces, then—

Sun's face blocked the last body in the line of people behind the rally speaker. "Looki'tha, brah, it's the ginger chick."

Ruby slapped his hand away. "Move your friggin—"

That was a ginger. It wasn't Penny.

"Sun?"

"Suh, dude?"

"Why is Roman Torchwick at a Fourth rally?"