A/N: This takes place after Volume 9. No, I haven't seen any other RWBY media other than the main series. Please excuse any inaccuracies involving Vacuo.
Her team, bless their good-natured hearts, have been more…present lately, ever since they came back from the Ever After and landed on the edges of Vacuo.
Ruby doesn't particularly mind this change at first. Vacuo is new territory, a place she has never stepped foot in before. The clash of cultures, the people, and their dire situation calls for some semblance of familiarity, and if it makes the others more comfortable that they stick together, well, she'll go along with it.
Except, Ruby didn't anticipate this change to last. It's been more than a few weeks now, and she's finding that she can't seem to get a single second alone. She tried slipping away once, and actually managed to succeed; however, the sheer panic in Yang's voice seared its way into her mind, and she never tried again.
She never wants to hear her sister sound that way if she can help it.
This does mean that she has a little shadow following after her though, considering that Yang is the first to rise when she gets up, even when it's only a trip to the washroom. Ruby tries not to let this behaviour bother her too much. It may be suffocating at times, but after the stunt she attempted to pull, it's more than fair to allow Yang this bit of reassurance that she's still here, still alive, and still the one that everyone looks to for answers. Speaking of, that issue is made worse by a giant mural with her face on it…
Aside from that, it's been more than her sister's sudden separation anxiety. She's become more observant, which comes in handy when they're together at the forge and Ruby no longer needs to ask for a certain tool when it just magically appears right next to her. This quality of her sister's continues outside of the forge or in battle; it's present every single day. It's like she's always trying to anticipate her needs.
Blake and Weiss exhibit similar changes too, albeit they're much more subtle in their worrying.
It's confusing but also kind of nice? Ruby isn't quite sure how to make sense of it, which appeared to be the theme of her life recently. She can't decide if she wants to scream or laugh in the face of it all.
Further adding onto this conflict, a vast hollowness has settled comfortably in her chest after her emergence from the Great Tree, which has ultimately left her so dispassionate towards…everything.
Save the world? Yeah right, she can barely motivate herself to aid in the distribution of resources, let alone figure out how to beat an immortal. Which, why is this responsibility down to her? Frustration bubbles to the surface, and Ruby feels a tad relieved that at least anger isn't one of the emotions that's been stripped away.
"Ruby? You alright?" Yang asks softly, and that is yet another change. She's gotten scarily good at reading her emotions.
"Yes, Yang, I'm fine," Ruby answers, turning to face the open window, hoping to dodge further scrutiny.
There's a brief moment of silence, before Yang speaks again. "Right. You know you can come to us for anything. If you need to talk or blow off some steam."
Ruby closes her eyes, biting back a sigh and a retort. That's the thing, isn't it? How does she ask for help when she doesn't even know what she needs help with?
"Yeah, I know."
Spin and slash. Shoot while using the recoil to retreat. Rinse and repeat until the monsters disappear.
Just like Pyrrha.
Like Penny.
Ruby lets out a shaky exhale, blinks away the tears. She turns to the nearest foe, putting twice as much vigor into her attacks. Her job isn't done yet.
When will it ever be?
They always treat themselves after a successful mission. It was a tradition from Beacon and it remains steadfast into their journey as licensed huntresses.
Due to less than ideal circumstances, their reward is much simpler: it comes down to a lazy day of lounging around in their dorm room positioned in Shade Academy, an activity in which they had quickly learned not to take for granted.
Ruby had tried to concentrate on the novel she recently got, but the words hardly register. It's not the type of genre she's used to, and yet, she can't bear the thought of reading about fictional heroes saving the day. Even a single glance at such books is enough to cause the hollowness to become an encompassing weight, drowning her in guilty reminders of the plentiful ways she failed.
The pages are a continuous blur, turning one after another, but the story remains folded, sealed away in words that she doesn't care for, characters that she doesn't remember the names of.
Ruby gives up on trying to read, instead looking around to bask in the sight of her sister and friends, silver eyes scanning them carefully as she tries to commit this moment into memory.
Yang is seated on an armchair, the tip of her tongue poking out as she concentrates on button smashing her way to victory in that video game of hers.
Blake sits in the other armchair, her knee occasionally brushing Yang's, while she buries herself in a book.
After what she discovered in Beacon, Ruby shudders at the thought of asking Blake what exactly it is she's reading right now to have placed that little smirk on her face.
And sitting right in front of her, on her bed, is Weiss. Weiss is seemingly engrossed in polishing her nails. There's a line of beauty products on the bedside drawer, many of which haven't been opened yet. How she had managed to procure such "necessities", as Weiss puts it, she has no idea.
Sinking further back into the footboard of the bed, just for this precious moment of peace, Ruby can pretend that they're four typical schoolgirls who only need to worry about grades and falling in love.
But the funny thing about moments is that they never last.
Her stomach curdles at the thought of having to go back out there, to fight for a cause that she has honestly lost faith in. She's not like the others, who are so sure and confident, and willing to offer themselves up, just like that, for a fruitless endeavour too.
The page underneath the palm of her hand becomes stained with a teardrop. Ruby blinks, stunned.
"Ruby," Weiss calls gently, and she's watching her with the softest expression, conveying something that she doesn't quite understand.
Yang and Blake immediately drop what they were doing, concern so plainly written in their body language.
Though they don't outright ask, Ruby can hear the question all the same. "What's the matter?"
It's instinctual, to shy away from exposing herself, because who is Ruby Rose when she isn't the strong one? When she's no longer the beacon of hope? She spent so long pretending. Does she even know the truth herself?
She can't hide any longer. Hiding hasn't done her any favours; it certainly hasn't lessened the pain.
Tentatively, ever so tentatively, her walls lower. "I wish we could leave. Go somewhere safe and live out normal lives," Ruby confesses, putting her trust in them to meet her halfway. Are you listening to me now?
"This is related to what happened in the Ever After, isn't it?" Blake asks, being the only one who can name the wretched realm as Weiss and Yang flinch at the mention.
Ruby shrugs. "More like…it accelerated things."
None of them are looking at her now. Shame fills the silence. Ruby hates it.
"I can't leave this fight," she begins. "I tried in the Ever After. I didn't want to be me anymore, but I also don't want to fight either. Who I am…even with the choice of choosing who to be, it will always be someone on the front lines. I just want to rest."
For once, the others don't offer empty platitudes. Each one of them reacts differently than what she's used to.
It's unsettling.
Yes, yes we hear you. It's meaningful.
Weiss is chewing on her lip, her gaze occasionally flickering to Blake and Yang, as if to see who is going to make the first move.
Yang, always the first to offer physical comfort, is restraining herself to remain still, instead, choosing to study her carefully.
Blake's ears are laid flat, and she's still not looking at her. A pang of guilt hits her, knowing that she's the one who planted the seed of doubt in her best friend's head.
The silence stretches on. Ruby wishes she could petal burst back in time, to not say anything at all. She must be too broken to have garnered such reactions and they're not going to want her around anymore because she just admitted that she's basically deadweight now and—
"This was very brave of you, Ruby. To be able to take the first step of asking for help," Weiss says, ever so gently. Since when did she become this fragile?
"I wish there was something we could say to make you feel better. All this time, we thought you needed encouragement, but that wasn't what you were asking for. I'm sorry it took us this long to realize it," Weiss continues, as the others approach the bed, kneeling down to be at eye level.
"Honestly, I really wished that too, because there isn't time to waste, and yet," Ruby cuts herself short, her nails digging into the palms of her hands, as she wills her breaths to relax and return into a steady rhythm.
With a frown, Yang gives in, and places a hand on her wrist, stopping her from digging in further. "We never wanted you to be perfect, Ruby. In fact, it's okay to feel this way. It doesn't make you more or less than."
Before a retort could worm its way into her mind, Blake finally addresses her. "You've been strong for so long, that we took your strength for granted. We took you for granted."
More tears splatter onto the book, and Ruby doesn't even know when she started crying. She presses the palms of her hands into her eyes, trying to contain her damning emotions.
The bed dips and her back is no longer resting against the cold footboard, but in the comfort and warmth of her team.
"It's okay. We'll figure everything out."
"You're not doing this alone anymore, let us help."
"We're here. We won't leave you."
For the first time in a long while, Ruby grieves.
A/N: Fascinating that canonically, the Blacksmith can make just about anything, and yet, when Ruby ascends, her choices are only weapons.
Huge thanks to my writer in crime, who just so happens to be a co-owner of this account, for beta-reading this.