Metal bends under the force of her strike, the door slamming against the wall with a dull thud. A groan follows, low and weak, and Yang curses under her breath. The makeshift bandages prove to be useless; blood trails behind them, splattering onto the floor, a steady stream of red marking their exact route through the street. Not that it matters much at this point, considering the situation. She nudges the door shut behind her and moves to place Qrow onto the floor, trying to be as careful as possible when she leans him against the bed. His head lolls, face pinched in pain, agonized breaths rapid and stuttering.
A quick search reveals nothing of use inside the building; it is too old to be stocked with any medical supplies that aren't outdated and unusable. With no other choice, she tears the sheets off the bed and sets to ripping them apart. In truth, she knows this is pointless, but she has to try. For his sake and her own.
When she undoes his wrappings, she can't help but suck in a breath through her teeth. In her haste before, she hadn't taken in the state of his injury, but now, all its gory details are laid bare for her. Where his right arm once was is now a bloodied, shredded mess, the skin and muscle of his shoulder torn beyond recognition. Jagged bone peeks through, splintered by the attack. The carnage continues downwards, his side ripped open to reveal his ribs. Before long, the blood starts to flow again, a river of it pouring from the wounds and pooling onto the floor.
When her hands begin to shake, she twists the fabric in her hands and starts to wrap the wounds again, ignoring the pained sounds that follow.
There is no way Qrow will make it out of this alive.
If Jaune were here, there would be at least a small chance he could, but separated as they are, with no way to quickly traverse the city and Grimm prowling the streets, the chances are next to none. Jaune won't get here in time, though Yang knows he is trying his best. No amount of stitching would work, not with there being no skin left to even stitch together. There is nothing she can use to start a decent fire in here, let alone one hot enough, which means cauterizing the wound—even if she did know how to do it properly—is out of the question.
Tears burning her eyes, she presses her forehead against the bed, next to where his head hangs limp, and digs her fingers into the rotten mattress, trying to fight the urge to cry.
This isn't right. This isn't how things were supposed to go.
After the way she treated him, why did he come back? Why did he choose to throw down his life for her? She thought he was a traitor. Why?
Hinges creak, and Yang moves to put herself between the door and Qrow. Blake pauses, ears twitching, and waits for Yang to relax before she enters.
"How is he?" Blake whispers as she approaches.
Yang shakes her head, failing to stop her shoulders from trembling.
"I tried to find something to use, but..."
Trailing off, Blake instead dumps the collected items onto the bed: a handful of painkillers, a half-empty bottle of wound wash, and barely enough bandages to wrap a hand. None of this will help. The anger surges, sharp and burning within her chest, and she breaks the nearby desk in a haze of pure rage, wood splintering under her fists. Once nothing more than broken pieces remain, she drops back down beside Qrow and lets Blake pull her into a gentle embrace.
Why does she have to sit here and watch as she loses another family member?
None of this is fair.
A slick, bloodied hand paws at her arm, and she turns to find dull red eyes struggling to focus on her.
"It...kay," Qrow mumbles.
"Don't," she says.
"Not...y'r..."
"Don't," she repeats. "You shouldn't have come back. You...you should have just left us."
Qrow, in all his stupidity, stares at her sadly, as if he can't believe she would ever suggest that.
Yang wakes to a touch on her shoulder, and she swings.
A startled shout splits the air around her, and it is enough for her to divert the path of her fist, knuckles brushing past soft hair and hitting the edge of a crate instead. Chest heaving, she snaps her gaze to the person kneeling at her side. Familiar white hair and blue eyes greet her, brows creased in concern. Voices drift from the front of the vehicle, her heartbeat drowning out the words, and she glances upwards to see both Ruby and Blake climbing over the seats and crates to join them, the worry evident on their faces.
Groaning, she leans back against the wall and scrubs her face with her hands, wiping away the sweat clinging to her. A weight presses against her side, a hand reaching out to card through her hair, and she leans into Blake's touch with a sigh.
"Are you okay?" Blake asks, voice soft. "You sounded awful."
Not a surprise, after that.
"Sorry," Yang mutters, trying to focus on Blake's attempt at comfort. "Don't know why I fell asleep like that."
"Probably because you didn't sleep last night," Weiss says, and then under her breath, "and neither did Ruby."
Closing her eyes, she breathes in through her nose and out her mouth. It's the truth; she had spent the night tossing and turning, unable to calm her mind. Even now, stuffed into the back of a transport vehicle and surrounded by cargo, she lingers on it.
Two days since their tense confrontation with Qrow, a failed attempt at urging him to be honest with them that only resulted in driving him away. Two days since he stormed out of the office with harsh words, vanishing from Atlas as if he were a ghost. Two days since his admittance that he felt all of his efforts, if not his life itself, were useless. What's the point? Said as if he were ready to give up on a lifetime of work. You can't help me. Said as if he had decided to give up on everything, including them. It left her wishing she had grabbed him and screamed, "Why not? What makes you think we can't?"
Instead, she stood there and watched him turn away.
She runs her hand down her face again, huffing.
When she opens her eyes, Ruby is staring, wringing her hands together.
"Yang?" Ruby whispers. "Did you...?"
The conversation Ruby had with Clover springs to mind, when they had discussed their respective dreams about Qrow. Now she is having them too. Just as Ruby said, it felt real, and in truth, she is terrified. After Qrow had first stormed out, she tried to understand how he could doubt them after everything they had been through together. Surviving the fall of Beacon. Winning the battle at Haven. Taking down Adam. Their successful arrival in Atlas. All of those accomplishments meant nothing to him? What could have happened to leave him feeling that way when all they have done since getting to Atlas is make progress?
But having experienced one of those unsettling dreams for herself, she is starting to understand.
Pulling herself away from Blake, Yang sits up and rubs her shoulder, rolling her neck to try and ease the tension in it. She should tell Ruby, she thinks, but the details of the dream churn her stomach. The blood coating her hands, the anger, the desperation. The lingering thought of why, after she had accused him of such terrible things. What would ever lead her to think that? About Qrow, of all people? That man would sooner gut himself than turn traitor.
She opens her mouth, only to close it again, the words caught in her throat. Talking about it is the last thing she wants right now; what she would rather do is work, to have a distraction from her thoughts. That she had such an awful dream while Qrow is who knows where, doing who knows what, only makes it worse.
Her silence is the only answer Ruby needs.
"Grimm incoming," the driver calls, and Yang breathes a sigh of relief, having an excuse to turn her attention away.
Offering her best reassuring smile, Yang climbs to her feet and throws the doors open just as the vehicle comes to a stop. The screeching of Grimm fills the air, and she wastes no time in throwing herself into the fight, launching at an approaching Manticore. The beast snarls, jaws chomping down on empty air before she brings her fist down on it. Bone cracks and shatters, black smoke billowing out from its disintegrating body. More Grimm follow, a whole subsection of the flock making its way to her, Manticores and Griffons alike. Being able to let loose and tear apart monsters is just what she needs right now.
Her relief at being able to postpone the conversation is short-lived, however. Red petals burst into her vision, and she groans when Ruby locks eyes with her.
"What was the dream about?"
"Seriously? You're doing this right now?"
Instead of taking the hint, her sister continues. "What was it?"
Rolling her eyes, Yang stomps down on the head of a Manticore, her heel breaking its mask. "Can't you think of a better time for this?"
"Why won't you just talk to me?" Ruby asks, slicing a Griffon in half.
"We're in the middle of a fight," Yang growls in reply, crushing one's skull.
"We talk and fight all the time!"
"Well, maybe I don't want to!"
Fire blasts past her head and sets an approaching Manticore ablaze, missing her by only an inch, as Weiss shouts, "What are you two doing?"
A scream interrupts their bickering, and the group turns to see a Griffon throw itself into the still-open doors of the vehicle. When a second one slams down on the hood, raking its talons against the metal, the driver cowers in his seat and wraps his arms around his head, as if that could shield him. Ruby vanishes from Yang's side, and a second later a blur of red slams into the one attempting to break through the windshield, knocking it away. The Griffon clawing its way inside through the back is seized by Blake's ribbon, and with a quick tug, it is yanked out and killed by an ice spear through the stomach.
Unfortunately, it doesn't come out of the vehicle alone. A broken crate tumbles out, scattering several Dust crystals across the ground, revealing that at least half of the contents were broken in the short scuffle.
"Shit," Yang mutters, staring down at the damaged cargo with a frown.
"Ironwood won't be happy about that," Weiss says, sighing.
"Yeah, well, he can kiss my ass."
"Yang," Blake hisses.
Folding her arms, Yang lets out a heavy exhale and instead watches Ruby try to calm the shaken driver. The poor man looks like he is five seconds away from a heart attack, and she wonders what the point is in hiring drivers who can't even defend themselves from the most basic Grimm. It makes her think of all the times she heard Qrow grumbling about Atlas, and she winces at the thought of her uncle. After Ruby calms the man down, she moves to help gather what they can salvage of the cargo, and Yang hefts the crate back into the transport before taking a seat with her team. Once the others offer their apologies to the driver for the trouble, they are off.
How will Ironwood react to this? Considering he has been even more high-strung than usual because of everything, she can only imagine. There is a headache creeping up the back of her head just thinking about it.
Not that he has much of a reason to be angry; they already have everything they need. All of these are more-or-less just spares.
The rest of the mission goes by with little fanfare, beyond the workers at Amity questioning them over how they managed to lose cargo, one of them raising a brow at the broken crate. Yang knows from their expressions alone that the incident will be reported to Ironwood before they ever get back. None of it would have happened if Ruby had taken no for an answer. Even as they board the transport to Atlas, her sister stares, and Yang bites her tongue to keep from saying something she might regret. Why would she want to sit there and describe the bloody details of her nightmare? It's not like Qrow will come back if she does. It won't make him trust them. And it certainly won't make him want to try again.
Who knows if anything will.
Ironwood waits for them as they disembark, hands folded behind him, back rigid. Though he keeps his face neutral, a single glance at Yang and Ruby is all they need to know that he wants to have a word with them. Anger coiling in her chest, Yang stomps after him, Ruby telling Blake and Weiss something that she doesn't quite hear before following. Whatever he wants to say could be said in front of everyone else, but she suspects he is trying to spare them any embarrassment. As if losing cargo to a Griffon of all things wasn't already embarrassing.
When they enter his office, Ironwood lets his shoulders droop for a brief moment before he collects himself, fingers clenching together behind his back.
In that annoying professional voice of his, he says, "I think it would be for the best if you both took a few days off."
"You're benching us?" Yang shouts, throwing up her arms. "It was one box! And you said it wasn't even needed, just a precaution!"
"The lost cargo isn't the reason for this decision, Yang," he says, tired and hoarse. "This is the second mission that you two have struggled with. It's clear the situation regarding Qrow is weighing on you. Understandably so, but regardless, being distracted on the battlefield is far too dangerous. For yourselves and those depending on you."
"Against run-of-the-mill Grimm? You're full of shit," she responds, ignoring the way Ruby tugs at her sleeve to make her stop. "You probably just want to make sure you can keep an eye on us."
"I do." The confirmation makes Yang freeze, and Ironwood turns toward them with a sigh, weariness in his eyes. "Qrow may have a complete disregard for his own safety, but I am certain that if harm were to come to you, he would be devastated. Until you can perform at full capacity, it is safer for you to stay here."
"You think a couple of days is going to make things better?" she asks with a growl. "Qrow is... and you think this is going to help?"
He doesn't answer. Balling her hands into fists, she jerks her arm away from Ruby and storms out, unsurprised when her sister follows.
Ironwood has the gall to act like he cares, but he lied to them this morning. The Ace Ops are down in Mantle, doing a mission whose details no one else is privy to, and Ironwood refuses to tell any of them what is going on. When she so much as implied that it might be because of Qrow, he had been quick to deny it while offering no explanation. In her mind, that is confirmation, regardless of Ironwood's attempts at reassuring her. What other reason would they have to go down there within days of Qrow vanishing?
But Ruby, even though she has grown a bit more jaded since their Beacon days, wants more than anything to believe them.
Not Yang, though. She can't.
"He's just stressed out," Ruby says. "That man could have gotten hurt because of us."
"Because of you," Yang replies, scowling. "Because you don't know when to drop it."
"I just... I just wanted to talk."
"And I don't."
They fall into silence, and Yang runs her hands through her hair, focusing on reining in her heaving breaths. Funny that she once thought the lies and secrets were over with, only for it all to come back worse than ever. No amount of distracting herself could truly get rid of the constant stream of questions circling her mind. What made Qrow break? What could make him change in such a short amount of time? What made him feel the need to lie about how he felt?
Yang deserves an answer to none of them.
"Did Clover ever get back to you?" she asks, grumbling.
"Oh. Um." Ruby digs her Scroll out of her pocket, and the moment she opens her messages, she frowns. "Yeah. He did."
The answer is a short, "I don't. I'm sorry." No updates on Qrow, supposedly, if Clover's word can even be trusted.
"He's probably lying, too," Yang mutters, throwing her hair back over her shoulder. "Something made them all run down to Mantle. They can't act like it's a coincidence."
"Maybe," Ruby whispers, staring down at the screen. "But... Qrow was right. I don't think we have a right to ask others to be honest when we're not."
"That's different."
"Is it?"
This is not an argument Yang wants to have again. With a declaration that their talk is over, Yang walks away, ignoring the words that follow in favor of heading to the training room. It is better to keep herself in there and lash out at inanimate objects rather than her own sister.
Not that it does her much good. Pummeling the training robots does nothing but fuel her rage, metal warping and tearing with little resistance to the hits she doles out, and after breaking several of them, she drags out a punching bag to take her anger out on instead. When that fails, she gives in and resorts to breaking whatever she can. Nothing helps; the longer she spends in here, ripping metal apart with her bare hands, the more her mind wanders, until every single what-if situation starts to cycle through her thoughts.
But what can she do? Ignore Ironwood's orders and go track Qrow down herself? Even if by some miracle she did find him, what then? What could she possibly say to him to fix things?
What if she never gets the chance?
With a primal scream, she slams her fists down onto one of the bots, a shower of sparks flooding the air when its head shatters.
Things had been going so well. Why?
"Yang?"
Jolted from her thoughts, Yang whirls around to find Blake standing in the doorway, ears lying flat against her head. Golden eyes survey the carnage, taking in the various dismantled bots and shredded punching bags before drifting back to Yang. The silence weighs heavy on her shoulders, and the way Blake holds her arms against her chest, uncertain, leaves Yang digging her hands into the breastplate beneath her until it, too, gives way.
"What?" Yang snaps, unable to quell the anger and frustration.
"Ruby told us what Ironwood said."
Nostrils flaring, she turns away and resumes the destruction, intent on breaking the pieces further apart.
"Yang, please."
"What else am I supposed to do?" she growls. "I can't do anything. Can't go on any missions now. Can't go down to Mantle. Qrow might be... he could be... And I'm just sitting here!"
"I know you're upset, but this isn't—"
"You didn't hear him."
At this point, all pretense of talking about Ironwood is gone. It must be obvious, because in response, Blake asks, "Are you finally going to tell me what happened?"
"He... damn it," she mutters, pressing her hands into her eyes. "Blake, he sounded like he was done with everything. Just...done. Like nothing we ever did mattered. Like he doesn't matter. I don't... What am I supposed to do? I can't just leave things like they are, but..."
When she receives no answer, Yang crumbles, failing to stop her breath from shuddering. The way she feels now is a reflection of her days after Beacon, hopeless and useless, unable to do a thing. All she wants to know is if Qrow is alright, and if not, what happened to him. Is that too much to ask? It must be, with the way things are panning out. Worst of all is the knowledge that she played a part in all of it, in his choice to leave, having helped to push him over the edge. They had forced it on him and then just let him go. She has done everything she can to rationalize that choice, but she knows nothing justifies it. It never should have happened.
"I... I'm sorry," Blake whispers.
A gentle hand presses against her back, and Yang forces herself to move, turning to meet Blake's saddened eyes.
"I wish I could say we'll figure things out," Blake says softly, wrapping her arms around Yang, "but I don't want to lie to you. I think all we can do is trust that Qrow will come back."
"What if he doesn't?"
The hesitation is clear, and eventually Blake says, "I don't know," her own voice rife with pain.
All Yang can do is cling to her, burying her face in Blake's shoulder.
