I find Blake back in our dorm. They're hanging backwards from the top bunk— my bunk— their arms hanging upside-down. They blink at me as I enter.

"Wazza," they greet, giving me both barrels from a pair of finger guns. I notice their hands are shaking.

"Uh… hey, Blake."

They tilt their head at me. "You look kinda scrungled, tbh. U ok?"

I shrug. "My… uh…. step-mom just died."

Blake flips over. "Oh fuck, I'm sorry."

I shrug again. "It's not your fault."

"Are you… feeling… bad?" they ask slowly, because they're bad at talking about feelings.

"I dunno. We never really hung out, so… I cried, but I think it was more from seeing how much my mom cried." I grasp my chest a little, hoping to indicate the hollowness I feel there. "Kinda feel guilty for not… feeling worse, I guess?"

Blake nods. Their cool haircut bobs with the movement, showing off purple highlights as it catches the light. "Big mood. I was like that when my aunt died."

"Yeah, but Summer was my step-mom."

They hiss. "Sorry. I guess I don't get it."

"It's okay."

Blake flips themselves upside down again. "You… want some head?"

"Nah, I'm…" they waggle their eyebrows, making a rude gesture towards their own mouth. Unfortunately, it has its intended effect on me. "Yeah, I guess. If you're offering."

They snort. "Of course I am, dude. We're partners."

They flip off the bed like some kind of gymnast— pretty sick, honestly— and grab my hand, tugging me over to the bottom bunk. I sit while they get a towel to lay down.

"Ruby jumped out a window."

They hum. "Oh, yeah? Why?"

I sigh. "No idea. She… doesn't talk to me anymore. Not much, anyway. I try to be a good sister— I am a good sister— but… I dunno." I rub my neck because this isn't something I really wanted to talk about right now, but I'm talking and it's being said whether I like it or not. They do a lifting motion with their hand, so I scoot back until I've got a good three-quarters reclined position and lift up my hips, unbuttoning my jeans as Blake slips the folded towel underneath me. I start to pull the pants off myself, but they stop me, shooing my hands away.

"Lemme," they insist, flashing me with a look that's… I dunno. Blake's still hard to get a read on, sometimes. "Keep going," they urge as they start to shimmy my pants down my legs, their eyes locked onto mine to show they're listening.

Blake's eyes are intense. I look away and cough into my hand. "Uh… it… it just feels like she doesn't— Ruby— doesn't, like… appreciate me? Or you? Or really anyone besides Weiss. Which… is fucked up? Because don't they hate each other?"

Blake snorts, fully removing my pants.

"Hey, wait," Blake shoots back with a clear 'hands off' gesture, but I shake my head. "N-no, B, not that, you're… good," I don't mean to say it like that, so I hurry along the rest to cover it up. "Were you just here? The whole time?"

Blake looks up, their lips hovering above the apex of my left hip. I look away again. "Yeah," they admit easily. "What, did something happen?"

I meet their gaze with one eye. I can handle that much. "Uh, yeah dude, a fucking dragon crashed into the school. You didn't feel it?"

"Oh, that's what that was. I just thought it was an earthquake or smth."

"Didn't the alarms go off in here?"

"Psh, yeah. I ignored the fuck out of em."

I groan. They kiss my hip and the sound ends up coming out a little different, which makes Blake extremely smug. I push their forehead with my fingertips. "Shut up."

I look away when they snicker. "Yeah," Blake says when they're done laughing at me. "I've been on a bender since the Winterfaire thing started tbh. Past couple days have been a mf hero trip nonstop."

"Dude, talk norm—"

They bite my sensitive hip, which rudely cuts me off and makes a very different sort of noise come out of my mouth. Blake giggles as they pull back just far enough that I can feel them talk against my skin. "Some kinda shrooms Nora found in the Forever Fall, growing right off the base of a tree so you know they were probably suckin that good-good."

"Oh shit, for real?" I try not to sound too breathy, as if I'm more into the conversation than I really am. They squint, getting closer, until their lips are back on the wet bite mark they just made. I brace, but nothing comes, and I open my eyes again to find Blake staring back, extremely smug.

"For real," they purr.

I try to rebuke them, but they bite me again, harder, their hands moving up from my thighs to press flat against my stomach before roaming north.

It takes about as long as it normally does. They don't ask for reciprocation because they never do; and I offer, mind you! Enthusiastically! But no. Just a giver, I guess, but I don't judge them; Blake likes what they like, and what they like is honestly indecipherable to me. Despite how well we fight together, sometimes it feels like I barely know them.

We shower together afterwards— shower-shower, like, actually shower— during which time I discover Blake is actually still high, which is fucking nuts. I can't imagine tripping on some psychedelic shit and staying in the oral sex mindset— I might think the thing's a monster and freak out— but Blake is wholly unbothered. Besides the shaking, the occasional glances at nothing at all (which is freaky), and the highly dilated pupils, they do stuff as well as they normally do.

I tell Blake we're gonna go find Ruby in Mantle or Atlas or whatever, and they're cool with it. I'm pretty sure they're still tripping by the time I get in bed because they crawl in with me a few minutes after I lay down, shaking. I don't question it and they don't question why I don't question it, so nothing is weird when we wake up tangled together come morning.

Our debriefing from the Headmaster is brief, though it's given with a hell of a lot more frantic energy than usual— which is saying a lot, because I've never seen him treat anything as even remotely frantic. And, like, yeah, I'm worried about Ruby, but not for her safety. Honestly, she's gonna be fine, especially considering mom should be there by now. Hell, that girl's beaten me before. Once. That's proof enough: as long as Ruby's going somewhere with a purpose, with equipment, with drive, and with backup, she's gonna get what she wants.

And by fuck, she wants that bony bitch.

Honestly, I don't see it. Weiss Schnee looks kind of like a Wendigo in human form, if in addition it were also a serial pulvis abuser. And she's kinda, like… not hot? I wouldn't say ugly per se, because nobody's ugly-ugly ('cept you, dad, big ups for keeping all the ugly genes and giving me your huge & incredible tits), but Weiss is definitely close— very much, like, 'waifish, pinched creature/evil cave nymph with overly soft features and a weird nose in a chiaroscuro painting'— but I'm pretty sure my sister is into it. Into it. She leers after Weiss all the fucking time, and not even in the way everyone else stares! Us normal people know how to appreciate her (weirdly) toned legs, but Ruby stares at, like, her hands. Her elbows. Whenever Weiss puts her hair up, Ruby starts foaming at the fucking mouth, her huge eyes darting between two places that, quite frankly, even I find at least a little weird.

But whatever. It doesn't have to be normal to me. Ruby wants to get her bag (of bones), so I'm gonna be a good sister and support her. Even if she stares at Weiss' [REDACTED].

(Maybe I should talk to her about this) (that might be weird) (no, it would be weird, no doubt, but, like) (I dunno maybe it'll bring us closer?) (Like trauma bonding)

I consider screening how weird it'd be on the airship to Mantle, but Qrow's there and I'm pretty sure Ruby is the surrogate daughter he always wanted to have with my dad, so I don't air out what a weird little freak his favorite kid is. Instead, we talk about nothing in particular. Mom texted me that things are going well and Ruby's okay, so Operation Stall Ruby is chugging along as planned.

We pass the time talking about sportsball— trying to, at least, but I'm pretty sure everyone in here is Gay so it goes about as well as you could expect— so when that doesn't pan out we move on to Remnant TCG. Turns out Qrow was a two-time regional champ with his Grimmrot (Seraphim Runaway var.) deck, then he blows us all away by claiming that he still has that deck, which means his room at my house has just had a few 50k-Lien cards hanging around this whole time. He even offers to play sometime, which is sick as fuck and we're definitely gonna take him up on that at least once before I tell his dumb ass to sell those cards and start paying his fair share (and by that I mean sell those cards to me, because I hunger for that deck).

Blake pays three-quarters attention to the card-talk, one quarter being devoted to occasional glances at their phone. Looking over, it looks like they've got their conversation with Ruby open. The last text between them pertains to that burst hemorrhoid of a date they'd had.

And I… have tried not to think about that. Very hard. Because if I think about it, I get angry, and I don't like being angry at Blake.

I am Winter Lodowiec Schnee. I am a General of fourth rank in the army of our great nation of Atlas. I have served since the age of fifteen, and I am now twenty-eight. I am honored and decorated with the Atlas Stripe of Excellence, the Atlas Stripe of Exemplary Service, the Atlas Combat Service Bars, the Atlas Crux of Steel, the Atlas Crux of Vanguard, the Vacuan Legion Resplendency Ribbon, the Mistral Stripe of Foreign Excellence, and the Atlas Star of Enduring Valor.

I have spent the last few months on a long holiday in the tropical islands. I spent most of this time drunkenly. This has caused my recollection of that time to be exceedingly poor.

This is despite my well-honed effort towards sobriety. This is despite my notoriously meticulous memory. This is despite my steadfast, studious nature. This is despite the fact that I do not like warm weather, nor the ocean, nor the idea of vacation away from my men. This is despite the fact that I would not vacation without my… my… my what?

Miss Schnee.

I correct him. I earned the rank of General, and I deserve to be addressed as such.

Regardless, General Schnee, please pay attention.

Why would I vacation without—

Do I need to remind you?

I shake myself and repeat who I am— the rank, the history, the medals, the vacation.

The vacation… where would I go without—

Miss Fall, if you would?

Would what?

Don't be abstruse.

Fine, fine.

I cry out, but everything is drowned out by the screams. The cries like a hundred bleating, dying foxes. The cries like nothing I have heard. The cries of a little boy being burned.

I watch because I have to watch, because if I don't watch it will be worse. Because I cannot stop her. I have seen men burn to death before— three times: two at once, then a third in a different time. None of them screamed as loud as the boy.

That is enough, I believe our gentle General has remembered.

The screams continue.

Miss Fall, that is enough.

He can take a little more.

Does your handler encourage such creative liberties?

He's not here.

But I am. And I pay you. So stop.

The screams finally cease. I breathe.

One last reinforcement for tonight— I want to catch her before she goes to bed. General Schnee, if you would.

I am Winter Lodowiec Schnee.