After a long delay, I've finally completed this chapter :)

It'd been pointed out in some of your reviews, but even though I had released the last chapter before V6, nothing in V6 negates what I'd had written. Which means the fic remains canon-compliant and I'm rolling with it. This picks back up between V5 and V6 and through V6 :) (I'm actually really happy that I'm able to keep doing this, even though I know when the bees become canon on screen, then I won't be able to do that make-believe thing anymore lol).
I had much more to write than I thought I did because my goal was to get from The Talk, which I made extra-harsh, to how sweet they are with each other before they fight Adam (because we didn't get an explanation for that didn't we, I figured I'd provide one)… and that wasn't real easy to make it natural. Which is how I ended up with a 40k+ chapter.

Lastly. This chapter needs it a fair warning:

****TRIGGER WARNING: ACCOUNT OF ABUSE & RAPE****

With that said… here we go.

Opening her eyes that morning, the sight of the faunus's flawless features made her pause. Blinking sleepily, the first thing that came to Yang's mind was how ridiculously vivid this dream was, until everything slowly started coming back to her. The pounding of her heart at once seemed to echo in her head and with each second her eyes stretched inordinately larger to gaze at her in awe.

That was no dream. Blake was actually right there.

They'd somehow miraculously found each other across the world thirty-six hours ago and it still hadn't completely sunk in. Blake being the first thing Yang saw as she woke up was certainly nothing short of surreal. Night after night, for never ending long, painful months, against her better judgement and against what her head kept trying to hammer into her heart… she'd hopelessly wished for her from the bottom of her soul.

But now, she was here. For real.

She was here, and Yang could touch her if she wanted to. She could glide her fingers through her jet black, silky locks, or she could hold her and feel her heart against hers or savorher oh-so-nostalgic scent . A scent that tore her apart for how much it made her feel like she belonged.

Yang exhaled an unsteady breath, trying to get ahold of herself.

Remembering how she'd found herself shouting at her and crying uncontrollably knotted her throat with disquiet and embarrassment. She couldn't believe she'd not only dredged up so many emotions she'd resolved to bury forever, but also shared them with the one person who she least wanted to share them with.

...But, if she was being honest... not wanting to share her feelings wasn't only on account of Blake's role in all this. It'd also been for not wanting to own up to how hurt she'd been, for not wanting to be so vulnerable in front of Blake, for her fear of finding herself relying on her when Blake had shown herself to be unreliable, and also for… not wanting to burden Blake with the heaviness of those feelings.

It was a long wait before Blake opened her eyes too. The same shock visibly coursed through her when Yang's face was the first thing she saw. She seemed to hold her breath for a second and then a soft, demure smile broke through her apparent nervousness. "...Hey," Blake mouthed almost inaudibly.

Her heart rate skyrocketed the way it always did when the faunus smiled at her, and just as suddenly her chest was constricted with all the pain, all the anguish, all the sorrow and grief that thinking of Blake always brought her over the last year. And yet, somehow, she was still undeniably elated with the utter miracle of her being there. It took some time for Yang to find her voice. "...You stayed with me," she noted.

Blake's eyes darted down to herself, at how she was still fully dressed and laying over the covers. "I hope that's okay," she quietly answered.

"It's okay," the blonde confirmed, the suffocating happiness unremittingly growing inside of her.

Blake's lips stretched even more, from subtle and bashful into the most beautiful, genuine smile Yang had seen in a long while. "Are you feeling better...?" Shegently asked.

The events before she succumbed to the exhaustion of their emotional heart-to-heart invaded her again; the rawness of betrayal, pain and resentment… as well as haunting regrets of what she should have confessed so long ago, all of which had been brought to the surface in the last evening. The weight of it all was perceptibly alleviated. "...Maybe a little," she conceded.

"Good," the faunus said, her smile still lingering.

Yet the memory of roaring brutal accusations at her made her a little queasy. Nothing she'd said she regretted saying, but she still hated having lost control the way she had. "I'm sorry I screamed at you," she murmured.

Blake shook her head. "Don't apologize for that. You were angry and not once were you out of line."

Yang nodded almost imperceptibly, her eyes unmoving from her, almost afraid that looking away, that blinking would have her vanish or have this revealed as yet another dream. She knew it wasn't, but given the innumerable times she'd had such vivid dreams of her… lingering doubts and anxiety ultimately got the better of her; after a moment of silence with the dark-haired beauty simply gazing at her, Yang tentatively touched her shoulder.

"I'm real," Blake quietly offered.

"...Yeah," she noted. "I just had to make sure."

Blake's features tightened with some emotion she was trying to contain. "I'll do whatever is needed for you to believe I'm here to stay, that I won't leave you."

Yang couldn't deny being somewhat grateful for the other woman's eagerness, but she was just so… weary.

Having vented all that had remained pent up inside of her the previous evening, all that she'd resolved to contain and lock away forever as she'd built herself back up and undertook her journey to find her sister, shattering the lock she'd put on all that and being overrun with all those emotions had left her feeling completely deflated. Or rather, maybe like she was lost in the middle of a vast, barren and colorless emptiness. She had no idea where to go from there, in which direction to take her first step, never mind how to start rebuilding or what exactly to rebuild between them… or if she wanted to risk trying to rebuild at all.

"...I don't know what I need," Yang admitted. "I don't know what to do."

Blake gave a small nod. "That's okay," she reassuringly whispered, maybe having already anticipated not getting any answer to her proposition. "Until you know, I'd like to stay by your side as much as possible, if that's okay."

Yang stared back in silence again, unable to determine how she felt about this mild request. When she looked at her and her heart stopped, she couldn't tell if it was for the same reasons as before or if it was because of the pain. And when her vision got blurry, when her eyes welled up, she didn't know if it was gratitude or resentment. Blake's presence completely jumbled her insides and she didn't feel like she could tell north from south. And yet she knew that there was no alternative to enduring it. Because they needed all the help they could get and… for the time being, Blake was there and there was no changing that. Not that she wanted to change it.

Because despite everything, she found herself incredibly thankful that Blake had slept next to her. At the very least, seeing her as she woke up, confirming their talk hadn't been another hyper-realistic dream, was something she'd definitely needed. "... You staying the night helped," she cautiously tried.

Her ears twitched backward for a second as a barely contained upsurge of emotion crossed her features. "After last night, I couldn't leave you," she reasoned. "I couldn't afford not to be there when you woke up, not again."

The blonde's lips tightened. If only she'd been there the first time around, they wouldn't be where they are now – that fleeting thought seared her like acid. It was her best effort to swallow it down, she didn't want to get angry again, and she certainly didn't want to cry again. It all made her want to move away from the topic as much as possible. "Yeah. You don't have to do that though," she rapidly droned, and only once she'd spoken did she realize how vague she was being. "I mean, going out of your way to give me special treatment."

There was a small silence in which Blake seemed to try to read her mind. "I didn't just stay for you. I needed you too," she eventually offered.

Scalding the wound that'd been torn open again the evening prior, that corrosive burn flared and with it, her features took a bit of the likeness of a grimace. Her sardonic answer passed her lips unbidden. "Really, now..." she bitterly muttered.

Blake's expression vacillated as if she'd been dealt physical pain, the tips of her flattened cat ears were quivering as she made an evident effort to keep her countenance. "I missed you, Yang," she managed, exuding earnestness like a beacon . "There was nothing I wanted more than being with you again."

Yang was tempted to retort with something accusatory, something reminding Blake how she'd been the very cause of the distance between them, but she pushed that impulse down. She wasn't going to go there. She'd said her piece, Blake already knew, and she didn't want to be resentful. Moreover… she understood why Blake wouldn't have come back no matter how much she could've wanted, no matter how much it might've hurt her too.

Finally, the faunus was unable to maintain eye contact, and the golden shine of her eyes was cast down. "I understand if you can't believe me right now, but it's the truth."

Yang sighed, giving a dejected shake of her head. "No, it's not that I don't believe you. If anything… I believe at least that," she conceded, drawing the timidly hopeful gaze back to her. Yang felt her throat painfully constricted. "If…" she exhaled anxiously, finding it especially challenging to voice this, "if… you loved me anywhere near as much as I loved you, then there's no way you wouldn't have missed me."

"You said 'loved' again," Blake noted almost inaudibly.

"...Yeah."

"...Past tense?"

It was with a sinking feeling that Yang realized she had indeed spoken in the past tense.

She had let Blake in so deep in her soul… having her turn into a ghost had felt like her beating heart had been torn from her ribcage, leaving a gaping void. She'd felt hollow and lifeless for months, and though she'd managed to pull herself to her feet and move again, she most definitely hadn't recovered.

The question rose from deep within her… had the feelings she held for Blake been so badly damaged that there was no salvaging them? The idea of allowing Blake such power over her, such capacity to hurt her again knotted her stomach painfully. But above all, to risk discovering how foolishly in love she may still be despite the heartache, to risk discovering how vulnerable to her Blake might still be were she to delve into all this, was almost too much to bear.

"I don't know, I'm still...not over what happened," Yang finally said. "And because of yesterday, everything feels so fresh again that I can't really tell how I feel about you."

Undeniably disheartened, Blake's gaze dropped slightly. "I understand," she offered very quietly. It took a second, but she raised again her eyes to her, almost reticently. "On my part, the way I feel hasn't changed."

Incapable of processing what the other woman was telling her, Yang stared at her blankly for a second. It frankly didn't seem possible. Not with all the pain and tears, not with the distance separating them for almost a year, surely not with the ghastly scar and eerie shape her maiming had given her. And... it surely didn't seem possible given what she felt Blake had decided to give up on that day she abandoned her.

No, she was ready to accept that Blake cared, but the idea that her feelings would have remained unchanged seemed so… ludicrous.

With that in mind, Yang couldn't help her reaction; a sort of scoff that came out decidedly scathing.

The sound she made visibly stung the other woman, who now interrogated her with a diffident frown. "…What?"

"Sorry," she said with a less jeering - but still somewhat chaffed tone. "It's just really hard to believe."

"…Why?"

The brawler squinted a bit in discontentment. Why would she even need to explain? Wasn't it self-evident? "You mean to say, after— … After all this … How's that possible?"

"Is it so hard to believe?" Blake countered.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Now Yang shrugged. She didn't want to voice it. Of course she didn't want to have to articulate all that. She didn't want to get into this conversation again and reproach any of it to her again. She didn't want to cry again and she surely didn't want to explain how insecure she now was with the way she looked.

After all, how could Blake still be attracted to her now? This gruesome mutilation and her now misshapen figure were grotesque. Again, she wouldn't doubt that the faunus cared deeply for her, that she may still be very attached to her, but… this kind of love? For the two of them at least, this kind of love held almost debilitatingly powerful lust… which she plainly couldn't fathom still being there. She'd had ample time over the last months, bedridden and depressed, to mull over her relationship with Blake. She had concluded that, were she to ever see Blake again, at the very least, desire would indubitably be gone. And she had braced herself even for the likeliness that any lingering romantic feelings might have faded away.

Yet as she awkwardly met the other woman's gaze again… the way Blake looked at her, with a light in her eyes, with unambiguous certainty and openness, with need and love, it all sent her back to a time when they were utterly consumed with each other, a time when they were blissfully unaware of the pain and sorrow that awaited them. A time when everything had been brighter.

She didn't know how it was exactly that she stared back at her, what it was that Blake saw in her eyes in return, but the dark-haired woman shifted closer.

"Yang," she called softly. Her delicate fingers found their way to the Yang's shoulder to gently brush some golden curls off before outlining its shape. Blake's touch induced shivers that spread through her skin. "Why do you find it hard to believe?"

How ridiculously challenging it was to gather herself from this fleeting contact. "You mean… everything?"

"Everything what?"

It was a struggle to piece together a real question. "Nothing about the way you feel changed?"

"It hasn't."

Her eyes remained on the fascinating gold and Yang's entire body was tensing up more and more by the second. "You still… want everything you wanted back then?"

By then, Blake's demeanor was taking a turn to confusion. "Yes," she nevertheless reaffirmed.

"No, but—everything?"

A frown finally broke through. "Yang, if I failed you, it was on me. It has nothing to do with the way I feel about you," she cautiously explained.

"No, that's not why I'm…" As she started speaking, she realized that where her sentence was headed was the exact place she didn't want to go. And she decided to vaguely rationalize things instead of risking rising questions about her self-image. "It's just. Time passed and lots of things have changed. It'd be normal for it to have changed"

"It could've, but it hasn't."

It sounded so far fetched, though. "So it's the same? In every way?"

Blake looked utterly disconcerted by then. "... Yang, what part do you think might've changed?"

It was even more of a struggle to make herself ask about where it truly was the most unbelievable to her. "...Physically, for a start…?"

"Physically?" She repeated, like she wasn't understanding what she meant. There was a pause in which the blonde couldn't bear holding her gaze and Blake pieced together the question. "Are you asking me if... I want you?" She then confirmed, completely at a loss. "Why would you ever think I wouldn't?"

Because I'm deformed and it's gross, was the answer that instantly came to mind, but there was no way Yang was going to say it out loud. "It's been a while, things have changed," she repeated instead, venturing a glance back at the other woman's features.

"Nothing about the way I feel has changed," Blake reiterated, steadfastly staring back at her, "not this, not anything else."

How unwaveringly assured and how patiently Blake responded was successfully chipping away at Yang's frame of mind. She had been so, so certain that it'd be ridiculous to imagine that what they had could still be there. Not with the anger, not with the pain, not with her hideous mutilation. Yet, Blake was unfaltering. So Yang figured... it had to be nostalgia. It had to, right? The other woman was longing for the past, longing for the happiness they had, and that's what allowed her to fool herself into thinking this way. Blake couldn't be seeing her as she was now, otherwise she wouldn't look at her this way still. Blake had to be seeing what she'd been, without realizing yet she wasn't that person anymore.

"Why are you asking this?" The faunus's voice interrupted her deliberations.

Yang could only meet her with silence. How could she even start to offer any sort of reason why?

And in her lack of answer, Blake's light frown, as she seemed to be puzzling over what Yang was actually trying to find out through this vague interrogation, slowly gave way to what appeared to be realization. "Or… Was it that you wanted to know if I do… now...?" She then guessed, and something in her gaze changed. The candour faded away as her eyes were rapidly being clouded over by something heavy and incredibly enticing. "Was that it…?"

She parted her lips yet found herself voiceless. She couldn't think. Maybe it was the violent thumping of her heart that made her head spin. Transfixed by the other woman as she inched towards her, anxiety quickly seeped into her bones as the raven-haired beauty's entrancing scent invaded her senses.

"You want me to make you feel better?" The pitch of her voice, husky and barely above a whisper, conquered her undivided attention.

Yet, a sense of alarm was rapidly permeating Yang's body. The faunus had closed onto her such that Yang could feel her body heat and her hypnotizing golden orbs anchored her into stillness. It was awakening something in her she had never thought she could feel again, which was startlingly frightening. "…Wait," she barely heard her own protest, such that she wasn't sure she'd expressed it aloud. "Blake, that wasn't..."

Long, delicate fingers traced her skin up her neck to outline her jaw. "It's okay," Blake murmured, her breath warming her lips. "Just close your eyes and relax," she instructed, leaning in.

The resulting panic had Yang brusquely sit up. "What do you think you're doing?" She heatedly shot; her semblance's burn had instantly warmed her skin and she knew her eyes had undeniably turned with her anger.

"I—" Blake scrambled to take a hold of herself, hurriedly sitting up too. "I thought you were asking for—"

"You thought wrong," she sharply cut in, a scorching eruption of resentment and anger at once surging from deep within her. "You have no right to even try something like this," she fulminated, appalled with the idea that after all the hurt, heartache and misery she'd been through, she was expected to forget it all to fall in her arms again. "This," she motioned through the space between them, "doesn't exist anymore, you fucked it up!"

The utter shock on Blake's features crumbled in slow motion to give way to a devastated look of profound distress and genuine agony. Yang had the harrowingly clear realization she'd just witnessed Blake's heart break. Never in her life, not even when she'd made that fateful leap towards that masked demon, had she wished to be able to rewind time more than right that instant.

The golden orbs drifted from the violet-again ones down to the bedsheets and despairing disbelief was slowly washed out by a vacant expression of loss. Tears suddenly started rolling down her cheeks, overflowing copiously, and Blake raised one quivering hand to her face in an attempt to wipe them away. "...Right," she managed, her voice strained. "Sorry, that was stupid of me."

Yang felt herself tear up too. Regardless of the agonizing pain of abandonment, of the void Blake had left her with over the last months, and despite how unprepared she was to let her in again... she nevertheless couldn't suppress what was bubbling up through the negativity—the growing certainty that her feelings for her ex-partner were, in spite of everything, still as strong as they'd been. She wasn't able to stand idly by and watch her fall apart because of her words.

"...Don't say it was stupid, it wasn't stupid," she breathed, moving closer to her. "It was weird of me to ask about that. But I... just... I can't just pick back up where we—... I'm not..." she faltered, hesitant to move any closer, hesitant to wrap her arm around her, for their bodies to be together again, in fear of what suffocating emotions would be brought to the surface.

Blake nodded, still futilely trying her best to wipe her eyes and cheeks. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have assumed... that a-after all this, you still would— " she inhaled sharply, as if it was hard to breathe, "I should have known better; of course I don't deserve for you to let me in, not in any way, after what I did to you, after what happened to you because of me, but I—" she tried glancing up at her but couldn't seem to be able to meet her gaze, "I couldn't fight—... I... i-it felt so natural to… …" Her breath ran out and the sob she let out sounded downright painful. "I missed you, and I — ... I... I'm still... so, so hopelessly—" The words caught in her throat and Blake hiccupped with the tears. She didn't attempt to finish her sentence, and Yang could only guess Blake couldn't say it anymore. "…I…I can't think straight," she miserably admitted, manifestly giving up on explanations. "I missed you so much…"

Watching her despair and pain, Yang felt a distinct shift; her troubled disconcertment, along with what residues of anger and resentment were left, giving way for her desire to console her. And for the first time since she woke up to missing pieces of herself, she had the clear impression she may finally be on the way to forgive, on the way to healing her heart… on the way to feeling whole again. Yang moved a little closer and gently pulled Blake against her. Blake fall apart instantly, her arms finding their way around her in a crushing embrace, and her face pressed against Yang's neck, her tears dampening her skin.

Blake's body in her arms, her soft hair against her cheek, her delicate feline ears shivering, the scent of her perfume... it all washed over her like a tidal wave. Yang hated knowing this with the certainty she suddenly did. Nevertheless, it was unquestionable that she was still madly in love with Blake.

"…I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to react the way I did, I'm just…" she exhaled a short, anxious breath. "I'm still… angry."

"No," Blake gasped, "d-don't say you're sorry, of course you wouldn't—you … wouldn't want… I'm sorry," she stressed, her fingers curling into fists, gripping tightly on the orange fabric of her tank. "I deserve it. And I… " she trailed off, losing her train of thought. "God—you shouldn't… —you shouldn't have to comfort me," she slurred, more to herself than to Yang. "I'm sorry," she quickly blurted again, sniffing, "I missed you more than I- m-more than I can ever— I'm sorry for everything, Yang, I'm so sorry— I left, and it was selfish, and I hate how much of a coward I was." Her torso against Yang's was sporadically wracked with sobs and the blonde could also feel her start shivering. "And god… I don't deserve for you to forgive me, but you're still… y-you're still all I can think of and I—… I'd…Yang, I…" Blake clung to her fiercely, pressing their bodies together with such need, "Yang," she gasped out her name, having evidently lost track of her rambling apologetic rant.

Yang returned the embrace as best as she could, absentmindedly stroking Blake's back with her left hand as her incoherent rambling of apologies dwindled into uncontrolled crying. In retrospect, it was no surprise that everything was pouring out now; Blake had mostly been able to keep herself together the night before… and likely only for her sake, as Yang broke down.

Violet eyes were on what remained of her right arm as it leaned against Blake's shoulder. It was freakish-looking, and if not for how used to it she'd gotten, she'd also say flat out revolting. At the back of her mind, she couldn't help wondering how Blake wasn't repulsed getting touched by it. And as if some power out there wanted to prove her wrong, Blake pulled her closer, desperately closer, pressing their bodies together in a way only lovers ever would. The doubts that'd pestered Yang since that fateful night fissured. She had been certain Blake didn't need her the same way she did. She had been absolutely convinced that never again would she want to entrust herself to anyone else, much less to Blake after all that had happened. And she… thought she'd known for a fact that she'd never again feel desirable. Yet in this moment… there was no questioning how needed, desired and treasured she felt.

Blake sniffed, starting to calm down. Her face was still in Yang's neck, dampening her skin with tears and warm, unsteady breath. Yang's hand moved gently on her back under the dark hair and the budding desire to kiss her was one she couldn't shake off.

Kissing Blake. It felt like it'd been a lifetime ago since that hadn't been an unattainable dream. Yang's hand drifted up her spine to find itself gently massaging the back of her neck. Blake whimpered quietly, melting even more into her. Everything she thought she'd been certain of, everything she thought she felt, everything she thought she wanted was becoming indistinguishably confounded with renewed yearning, with longing she assumed she never could feel again, with undeniable love. And Yang was torn with the lingering soreness and the utter terror of allowing her any sort of power over her heart… and yet she was still tempted to throw it all out the window for a mere brush of her lips. She was petrified by it. How could it all come back so fast? "...If you could just... start by giving me some time... okay?"

To this, Blake nodded, having finally taken hold of herself to let go. "Yes, of course," she agreed; her voice sounded much clearer now. Her makeup was smudged by the emotions and smeared by having slept in it, and dark bangs stuck to her cheeks with her tears. It was appalling how senselessly beautiful she remained. "I'll wait as long as I have to."

As long as she had to, Yang repeated the words in her head, her gaze drifted down to the bedcovers messily bunched up between them and half thrown off. For Blake to say that, it meant she assumed that in due time Yang would come around. "…And what if I can never…" she trailed off.

So many words stumbled over each other in her mind to finish that sentence, she didn't know which one was the most accurate. What if she could never what? Love her again? …but that wasn't true at all, because she did love her. Trust her again…? That hit a bit closer, but she… definitely still could trust Blake as an ally. There was nothing not to trust about the value of her character. Without a shadow of a doubt, Blake was on their side and no one else's. It was more like… Blake couldn't be counted on. She was trustworthy… but that was only as long as she was around. Blake wasn't reliable. Yang sighed. "…What if it can never go back to how it was?"

With a thoughtful frown, her puffy and reddened eyes lingered on Yang's lips. "...I don't want to go back to how it was," she carefully said, to the brawler's surprise. The faunus then seemed to find some renewed strength deep inside her; what she projected grew until she was resolute, earnest, and purposeful. "I don't want to be that person anymore," she declared. "I don't want to crumble and run ever again. I don't want to be afraid of your kindness or your acceptance or your compassion for feeling I'm unworthy of any of it. I want to make myself worthy of all of it." Her outrageously gorgeous golden orbs fluttered up to gaze at her. "Most of all, I don't want to be afraid to talk to you the way I was back then. I don't want to leave anything unsaid ever again and I so don't want to be scared of being honest about… anything you might want to know about me," she explained. "About my past. About… who I've been, what I've done, or what made me who I am. I want to be honest about anything you want to know and especially about anything that could cloud the trust I want to rebuild with you."

It was with her heart pounding that Yang stared down at her. They'd both known very well what the issues were, but she'd never expected for her to be able to formulate such a solid answer or to be able to address it all so frankly. And yet she couldn't help wondering whether these were nothing but honeyed words, if, though the will was there, she would fall short when put to the test. And did Blake truly believe it was possible for them to rebuild and come out stronger? If she really did believe, when the time came to prove herself, would Blake abide by what she said...? It was easy to make promises along with tearful apologies, but would those promises really withstand the storm when put to the test? Or would Blake desert her side again…?

Blake's delicate fingers taking hold of her hand brought Yang out of her near trance. The dark-haired beauty held her callused hand with both her own as if it was a fragile treasure and brought it to her lips for a featherlike kiss. "So… if you're willing to let me show you that I'm done hiding in the shadows, then maybe... we can build something new," she proposed gently, searching her eyes, "and we can do it right, this time."

We can do it right. It was true they'd been going about this completely wrong. Blake had kept silent on too much for too long. While Yang had been much too impulsive in pursuing her without having been comfortable with herself or having been ready to entrust herself to someone else.

...Though Yang had started to come around, she'd truly been on the verge of a breakthrough right before everything fell apart. She'd finally started feeling like she was ready to make a leap of faith and allow herself to need the other woman and… expect to be taken care of in return. Which it turned out she probably couldn't have had worse timing with, as the events of the Fall of Beacon threw them into chaos. And Blake hadn't yet been ready to withstand her ghosts as they came back at her in full force.

Yang gently had the other woman release her hand so she could instead delicately cup her face with her palm. Blake pressed into her touch as Yang caressed her cheek with her thumb, staring pensively into those criminally beautiful golden eyes. Those eyes used to be the only thing she believed in unconditionally. Her hand slowly moved from her cheek into her hair, holding her head carefully in place as she leaned in to kiss her temple. Blake seemed to hold her breath as she did so. Yang breathed in the intoxicating scent of the woman she'd dreamed about for months. She wanted to have faith in her. Yet no matter how much she wanted, doubt nevertheless festered inside of her and her heart sank in her chest as it became painfully clear that she just couldn't bring herself to trust her ex-partner's words. She didn't know what could've changed so much in the last year that Blake would behave any differently when faced with adversity. She couldn't help the thought that Blake would only repeatedly disappoint her. Because Blake couldn't be counted on. Yang exhaled inaudibly in the dark hair, at a loss with what to do next.

"I need some time," she repeated quietly, letting go of her.

Her hopeful gaze and perked up cat ears were absurdly endearing. "I'll be patient," she readily answered.

Without adding anything, Yang slid out of bed. She went to retrieve the prosthetic she'd discarded in her rant the evening prior and re-engaged it, sensing Blake's attention still on her as she did so. And suddenly she didn't want to be in that room alone with her at all. She gave an awkward glance over her shoulder before she decided to grab her tan vest and hurry downstairs.

Two pairs of eyes fell on her as she walked into the kitchen.

"Finally!" Weiss exclaimed, dropping her fork on her plate. Ruby jolted upright in alert.

Had they known Blake was going to talk to her? Yang disconcertedly stood still.

"So?" Her sister pressed.

The blonde didn't really know what they expected her to retell. The entire thing? A summary? Or the conclusion? Or simply whether or not they'd magically mended everything? "…So what?"

"What do you mean, so what?" Weiss instantly threw back. "I had to give up my bed to leave you some privacy while you talked."

Yang shrugged uncomfortably, heading to the fridge. "We've talked," she plainly said.

"And?" Her friend's keen voice insisted.

She made a point not to look at either of them, as if somehow, they'd just magically let it go. She knew very well they wouldn't, but she really didn't feel like diving into the whole thing again. "And what?"

"You spent the whole night together," Ruby still continued. "We take it that's a good sign?"

The blonde felt her jaw tighten, staring vacantly in the open fridge. "It's a nothing sign," she droned, deciding on orange juice and getting herself a glass from the cupboard. "She felt too guilty to leave after I fell asleep, that's all."

"You fell asleep?" Her sibling curiously continued anyways. "Just midway through talking…? Or did you end up deciding to go to bed?"

This finally drew her attention to her two teammates, and Yang saw Weiss's eyebrows shoot up. She squinted at her disapprovingly to indicate nothing of that sort happened, but she wasn't about to admit she'd cried herself to sleep either, so she settled on something relatively vague. "It's complicated. It's just. Talking wasn't easy. It was emotional and exhausting."

As she explained this, it was downright bizarre the way Ruby and Weiss guardedly glanced at each other. They were usually very much on the same wavelength, yet they now evidently looked to be cautiously gauging each other. It made Yang realize she'd never had time to clarify that what was between Blake and her wasn't a secret anymore. Weiss couldn't have known Yang had spoken to Ruby before everything went downhill and Ruby never knew Weiss was in on it even before she was. And now both of them were wary of saying something that would expose the situation should the other one not be in the know.

"…It's not a secret," Yang heard herself say before recognizing how ambiguous she was being. "I mean… you both know. About her and me."

"Oh, good!" Weiss exclaimed in relief.

Ruby swiftly turned to her. "Wait, you knew?"

"I'm surprised you did," she retorted, obviously a little irked.

"When did Yang tell you?!"

"Blake told me," the white-haired lady corrected, her lips pursed. "She told me sometime before the Vytal festival."

"What!? Before?!" She whipped around to her sister, a betrayed look on her face. "She knew before I did?"

"…Blake told her without telling me," Yang awkwardly offered, opting to leave out the fact that she'd deliberately delayed telling her for a few more weeks after she knew Weiss was aware.

"I pretty much pressured it out of her," Weiss added, and Yang wasn't sure if she was only saying that to help the situation or if it was actually true that she'd cornered Blake. If she had, it meant that she'd noticed something was going on, didn't it? Which subsequently had her wonder what had given them away.

"Oh," the short-haired leader said, seemingly satisfied with their explanations. She then turned to her sister again. "You said it was complicated, is it still complicated?"

Dreadfully unenthusiastic about the prospect of going in depth about what had been said, Yang took the time to pour herself some juice and drink half of it. "I don't know," she dismissed.

Ruby scrunched her nose in her confusion. "How do you not know? You talked a lot, didn't you?"

The blonde shrugged again; it was wishful thinking to hope they'd settle for such a trivializing reply. "I don't know if talking is enough," she rationalized with a sigh. "We just… really need to get used to each other again. Then we'll see how… how we can really be with each other."

At this, Weiss frowned deeply. "Wait, are you saying that it's possible that you don't get back together?"

"We were never together," Yang sternly answered.

"For all intents and purposes, you were," she adamantly argued. "At least by the time the tournament rolled around."

Yang's obstinate gaze dropped to the surface of the table. It was hard to argue the opposite. With how involved they'd been with each other, how much they relied on each other, with how intensely they'd loved each other, heart, body and soul… what label they officially ascribed to their relationship was nothing but formalities. It had truly been only a matter of days before they would've been taking that step anyways. Not to mention… back then, she'd barely allowed herself to think about it, but she had indeed started to envision their relationship into the far future. She'd assumed that she and Blake would be inseparable. And although they'd indeed been rather young… it had been no argument that, to her, Blake had been the one.

"Even if you weren't really together back then," her sister's voice brought her attention back to their conversation. "You don't think you could ever be…?"

"I don't know," Yang quietly confessed. "I don't even know if it's gonna work as a team like before. There was blind trust before, you know? How's that gonna work?"

"Instinct and habit?" Weiss suggested. "The night we reunited, Ruby and I got to fight alongside her as a team again while you went down into the vault to retrieve the relic. Old habits kicked in like nothing had changed," she retold, picking up her utensils again. "When the time comes, you two? You'll fall into rhythm like second nature," she confidently affirmed, resuming eating her omelet before it got cold.

"Yeah!" Ruby cheered. " It'll be easy!"

No matter how much she wanted to disagree, both because she was scared that they might be right –which, she knew down to her core that it'd be a slippery slope to exposing herself to potential heartache again— and because something reticent inside her only wanted to be difficult and argue, she still quashed the urge. "Fine," she sighed. "But working as a team is only step one. It's not like it's even obvious she'd want it to go back to how it was anyways."

Weiss almost spat out her food. "Are you kidding!?"

"Things have changed!" Yang vehemently defended. "She's—… she loved who I was. Back then, when I wasn't…" she trailed off, unable to utter the word that had come to mind. When she wasn't broken. Her attention flickered to her sister; she simply couldn't say something like that in front of her. Her mechanical fingers tightened around the glass in her hand as her other hand curled into a fist, and it was a struggle not to shatter the glass. "I'm not that person anymore," she conservatively answered, settling again on the pale blue orbs.

"You haven't changed so much that—"

"I have though," she sharply cut in, "and maybe Blake's too wrapped up in feeling like she needs to atone to see the actual picture right now, but it's only a question of when she does see it," she claimed. "And who's to say what she'll want when she does?"

"Blake said she's not going anywhere," Ruby affirmed.

"I know she said that," Yang dejectedly acknowledged. "But it's all just…" It took a second for her to structure her thoughts in a way she could talk to her sister about it. In a way she didn't show how scared she was of the situation with Blake, of letting her in and getting disappointed again. In a way she could keep up appearances about how she truly wasn't as well as she wanted her to believe she was. "Even if she does intend to follow through and stay with us, it's a different matter than… there being an 'us'. Even if she does stick around, there might not be a way to rebuild that. And maybe she'll find out she doesn't want to," she said carefully, staring into the liquid left in her glass. "And maybe I'm not sure I have it in me to try either."

As she admitted this, a silence followed. Ruby and Weiss glanced at each other in concern, evidently quite at a loss, and both then looked at her again. Yang's stomach tightened. She threw away what remained of her juice in the sink and put away the bottle. Ruby was pensively swirling her spoon in the milk of her unfinished cereal, which had probably gotten soggy at this point.

With a sudden surge of annoyance, Weiss abruptly turned to her again. "So, what, you'll just give up?"

"I don't know yet, okay?!" She snapped. "I just—I wish things were different somehow," she added in desperation. "I wish she didn't go! I wish there wasn't a million things going on with the relics and Maidens and Salem, so I had more energy to deal with this, or that I was more okay, or—" Her rant screeched to a halt as the awareness of what she was about to admit fully came into light. The sting that the simple notion of it engendered might have contorted her features in a bit of a grimace, but she continued anyways. "Or maybe… it'd have been better that nothing had ever happened between us. Maybe it'd have been better if we'd always remained just friends and nothing more. And then I wouldn't be like this, I'd be able to welcome her like you two did."

"….Wait was it like that between you and Blake?" Jaune blankly asked.

Having not noticed when he'd walked in, the three of them stared at him for a second. Yang threw her arms up in the air in a mix of frustration and defeat. "Who cares at this point," she sourly shot.

Without paying him much attention, Weiss instantly returned to the conversation. "You didn't mean that last part," she guardedly challenged. "I had never seen either of you happier than on that day before our match."

The memory of kissing her backstage before the doubles match, of being able to be true to her feelings out in the open, of not having to worry… of knowing down to her core she indeed was in love with her, that memory hit her like a ton of bricks. The unparalleled happiness of those days only seemed to make this moment all the bleaker. "I don't know how to handle her being here!"

Ruby's features tightened, maybe with disapproval or maybe trying to contain the sorrow that welled up in her eyes. "We agreed that in the end all that mattered was that we were back together," she reminded her.

"I know!" Yang insisted. "But I thought I was back on solid ground and—and then she came in yesterday and tore everything open again and now I'm just..." she exhaled shakily. "I'm just so messed up! It's hard looking at her!"

"But you do get to look at her," Jaune flatly countered, to which silence abruptly ensued. The very air was so heavy that it felt oppressive. "How can you complain about any part of it?"

The chills that at once frigidly washed down Yang's spine properly flung her to see the situation in a completely different angle. How had she so quickly forgotten it was nothing short of a miracle that they'd crossed paths at all? How had she forgotten that a year ago, when Blake hadn't evacuated Beacon with all of them, she'd been plagued by catastrophic ideas, wondering if Blake had even made it out alive?

He stared at her in a most uncharacteristic way, blank yet unimpressed, and neither she nor Ruby or Weiss seemed to know how to respond. "You should be grateful you get to look at her," he added in what was not quite, but almost a scolding tone. He then grabbed the box of Pumpkin Pete's cereal on the table. It had the mascot rabbit on it, the design with Pyrrha's image had been put out of circulation after the disaster of that night. Jaune tucked it under his arm, and promptly left with it.

For a second, all three of them gawked at the doorway, processing what had gone down.

"You got told by Jaune," Ruby eventually murmured under her breath.

She really had, and Yang wasn't herself the rest of the day. All of it really didn't sit well with her. She couldn't stand her own ingratitude and yet… she couldn't just be magically okay with everything concerning her ex-partner either.

The talk Blake had forced on her, she recognized now, had been absolutely necessary. It didn't leave either of them in a very good place, but it was still the only place they could really start over from. Nevertheless, Yang found she needed some space to properly ruminate on what had been said and sort herself out bearing in mind this new status quo— something she didn't have much of, thanks to everything that had to be done trying to re-establish some order around the academy and repair defenses around the city. The small blessing in all of this was that all the faunus who'd travelled from Menagerie were such a substantial load of work to organize and deal with that Blake was also kept reasonably busy. This meant that Yang had at least until they left for Atlas to get a grip and sort herself a bit better before there would be absolutely no choice but to spend extended amounts of time together. Until then, she didn't have to worry too much about extended interactions with her. The short interactions they did have during the day were plenty awkward already; Yang didn't want to think what spending hours with her with no task at hand mid-travel would be like.

Blake was so overly attentive and yet didn't seem to know how to address her. At the end of the day, everyone had met up to debrief on the progress, and as they'd settled, Blake had actually pulled out her chair to seat her. Yang didn't want to make a scene in front of so many people, in front of Blake's parents, so she didn't say anything about it, but it was so weird. She didn't say anything either about how she'd refilled her tea several times for her. But it did make her avoid her as best as she could the following days.

She couldn't deal with how earnestly intent Blake was being. Yang would have preferred she not go out of her way to pander to her; she would much rather have proper time to ease back into being around her. Above all, though, she couldn't deal especially because she wasn't getting any sleep.

She hadn't slept the first night Blake was there, and yes, she slept on the second night because she'd cried herself to sleep, but as the third night rolled around, it was the same as the first one. She tossed and turned, and every time she had closed her eyes, she would be seized with a fleeting surge of energy, like some lingering anxiety that this reality was in fact a fantasy. The fear that she'd imagined their reunion permeated her bones.

It was an entire week of constantly disrupted shallow sleep… when she could get any sleep. And as this tenth day, during which she had managed to avoid Blake for all but two five minute episodes was advancing into the tenth night, Yang quickly realized that she still wouldn't be getting the rest she was starting to desperately need. Her mind was exhausted, and yet she jolted awake before she ever truly drifted off, like her body wouldn't let her leave this dream of being reunited with Blake were it to actually be a dream. She knew it wasn't, but something in her was still fretful and restless. And then there was also that little voice at the back of her mind that kept chanting to her that Blake would leave. Blake wouldn't be there when she'd wake up. She did want to believe in her, Blake said she was there to stay, but… the irrational and yet completely legitimate fear of being hurt the same way again made her keep doubting. Only a fool would let themselves be hurt so badly twice, right? It wasn't in bad faith that Yang had qualms about the entire thing. It was in spite of herself that she worried that, were she to drift to sleep, she wouldn't hear it if… a shadow stepped down the hallway to vanish into the night.

For the fifth time that night, she rolled out of bed and quietly slipped out of her room. She went out as she was, it wasn't like she expected to do anything other than pacing the hall the same way she had in those last hours, the same way she had the first night Blake had been back, and head back to bed in ten or fifteen minutes. She found herself stopping again and again in front of the door she knew very well the dark-haired beauty slept behind. But this time, the creaking of the door froze her in place as it cracked open.

The dim light in the corridor was enough to make Blake narrow her eyes. "Yang?" Pushing the door open a bit wider revealed the faunus still opted for the same sort of nightwear as before. The silky kimono she wore was purple, unlike the black ones she favored back in their Beacon days, but it was even shorter, and it showcased her legs beautifully. "I've been hearing steps up and down the hall for a while, was that you?"

Yang awkwardly tore her attention from the pale skin of her legs. "…Sorry. I just…" she trailed off, idly rubbing the back of her neck with her hand. "… I can't sleep."

Blake stepped out of her room, crossing her arms as she did so. "…To be honest, I couldn't sleep either," she admitted, and one of her cat ears twitched as she said this.

Although she'd looked drowsy at first with the way she'd squinted as she opened the door, the brawler decided it might've indeed been nothing more than the glare of the light. Blake's voice didn't sound lethargic like it would when she'd have just woken up. And it was true that, for as long as she'd known her, Blake had always had disordered sleeping patterns. Between bouts of anxiety-induced insomnia and chronic nightmares, the faunus would at times stumble through her day in a haze.

The blonde wondered if her being awake at this hour was still the lingering haunting of past demons, or if maybe… Blake was tossing and turning for the same reason Yang was.

After all, though this was the third night since they'd reunited, it remained hard to grasp that the other woman was here with them. She'd lost the first night Blake had been back mulling over all this while pacing the hall, wondering if she should peek into her room… not because she believed Blake would disappear into the night, but merely to confirm to herself Blake's presence hadn't been some sort of delusion. The second night hadn't faced her with that challenge; she had slept like a rock, as she'd cried herself to sleep. But now she was back to square one, and Yang felt completely stupid, standing in silence in the dimly lit hall and having drawn her out of bed for no other reason than her own restlessness.

"Do you want to go back to your room?" Blake gently suggested. "If you want, we can talk until you're tired again."

The many times she'd sat at Blake's side when she would wake up from a nightmare came to mind, and Yang was so very tempted. It felt like every fiber of her being was drawn right back to the dark-haired beauty, and she truly wasn't ready for any of it. "…No," she ended up saying. "No," she repeated, quickly racking her brain to come up with a pretext. "We'd disturb Weiss."

Blake's eyes drifted to the ground as she gave a faint nod. Yang had the impression she knew very well her excuse was just that. "Do you want to come in then?" She tried suggesting anyways. "There's another bed in my room, so it's not like you'd be sharing mine. You're welcome to stay."

With a sigh, she decided to drop any pretenses. "I don't want to talk more," she answered. "Sorry. Right now, I need to let the dust settle a bit." Mostly, she didn't want to risk getting emotional again. Then she really wouldn't get any sleep.

"I understand," Blake acquiesced, her features having brightened a little. While the truth didn't shield her feelings the way accepting to settle with a drab excuse might've, it was evident Blake preferred that she be honest.

As a silence stretched, the way those golden orbs stayed riveted on her, almost marveling at her, made her increasingly uncomfortable. "I'm just… gonna go down to the cafeteria and grab some water," Yang awkwardly uttered.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"Why?" Yang felt a frown take over her features. She was suddenly very self-conscious of the void on her right side. "I can do it myself."

"I know," she hurriedly replied. "It's just... we're both up."

"And?"

Her cat ears had flattened in discomfort. "Nothing, I figured I could maybe… just be company," she proposed.

She hated that the idea even crossed her mind that it might have to do with her maiming. She didn't know if she hated more that she doubted Blake or that Blake might not perceive her as capable anymore. "…It's fine," Yang dismissed. "I'll only be a second," she added, not leaving her time to answer before she walked away. She did opt to swing by her room and grab both her prosthesis and favorite hoodie, as she considered maybe wandering the academy's premises instead of pacing up and down that hall and making Blake worry more. Re-armed and warmer, she made her way downstairs and to the kitchen.

At first she was more than a little startled to see the monkey faunus busying himself in their kitchen, but she quickly remembered… Sun actually was a student at Haven Academy. Moreover, with having travelled there without his family from his hometown in Vacuo, the only place he could call home in this city was likely this dorm. He noticed her presence only when she .

"Oh, hey Yang," he said, emptying the fridge's contents onto the kitchen counter.

There was some fresh produce, bread, and multiple condiment jars and cartons laid out, and it didn't look like he was done. It was almost two a.m., was he making a meal? She observed him quizzically. "What are you doing?"

"Midnight snack," he nonchalantly said, opening a plastic container and smelling what was inside. "Want something? I can make you some too."

She wasn't hungry, but something about the insouciance he exuded made her want to sit down with him. "…Yeah, why not." She pulled herself a seat, one of the chairs on the side of the table facing the kitchen counters. "Thanks."

He nodded brightly, still checking the content of plastic containers and putting them back in the fridge. "Can't sleep? Hungry?"

Yang shrugged, sinking a bit deeper in her chair. "I just have a lot on my mind right now."

The tip of his tail twitched and it was a lingering moment of silence before he glanced back at her. "…Blake?"

"Mostly, yeah."

He hummed contemplatively, pausing what he was doing to turn to her. "...You know," he started, resting a container with leftover meat on the counter and closing the fridge, "she's not the same person she was back then. In all that time you two were separated, she's grown a lot from the Blake you knew."

She didn't quite know why he was telling her that. At this point, the blond faunus had spent almost as much time with her ex-partner as she herself had, and Yang wondered if he meant to tell her… Blake was more his partner now? Something tightened in her stomach. He wouldn't be completely wrong if he felt that way, wouldn't he? "We've all changed," she offhandedly answered, taking an interest in the table's wood's pattern. "We'll just have to figure out how to deal with it for the time being, until we're done in Atlas at least. And then we can re-evaluate if we're still good to stay a team or not," she said quietly.

"Wait, no, I'm not trying to say you guys don't fit together anymore," Sun quickly corrected, drawing her gaze again. She must've looked somewhat startled because he felt the need to continue. "For real," he exclaimed stepping closer. "It's the opposite! The girl's on a quest to right all her wrongs, you know? She's been doing her best to be better in every way, and it's totally so she could be better with you guys. Especially you," he emphasized, pointing at her. "You're like, top priority."

"Top priority for what?" Yang asked, though she was pretty sure she knew what he meant. After all it was obvious how hard her Blake was striving to mend things with her. The reason she inquired as if she didn't know was simply because, given the year he'd spent with Blake, she was curious to hear how he'd justify his claim.

"I said she wanted to right all her wrongs. And she definitely feels she wronged you," Sun explained assertively, "so she's gonna try to fix that and win you back."

Those words washed over Yang with a chill and left her incredibly still. Was he aware of the double entendre? Did he say it like that on purpose? Should she say something?

His dark blue eyes stayed riveted on hers and they stared at each other for what felt like an unnecessarily long, cautious moment, until he continued. "And also... win you back."

So it really had been on purpose. "She told you?"

His eyebrows shot up pretty high. "That she wants to make things right? Or about you two?"

"…Either."

"We vaguely talked about what she needed to do," Sun disclosed. "But for the rest, I didn't know for sure until now."

Yang stared blankly for a second before malaise started to take over. If Blake hadn't told him in an entire year, was it because she was scared that telling him would ruin their friendship? Had Yang just wrecked Blake's efforts? But he had to learn about it at some point righ— …Or wait did he need to know? Because if Blake and she weren't gonna rekindle what had been, then what use was there for him to know what had been? Was that why Blake never told him? Because she didn't think they'd see each other again? Although wasn't it better for him to know, at least, that Blake wasn't into guys…? Did he have suspicions about that? It was quite possible that he'd have noticed her lack of interest in men over the last year. And maybe that was why even if Blake hadn't told him, he might've had doubts? Maybe it had made him think twice about her relationship with Blake, which could be what lead him to seek confirmation from Yang. But now knowing this for a fact, what did it mean for him? For his own hopes?

"Don't make that face," he interjected with a laugh.

His candidness was a relief, but she still didn't truly know how to digest what had gone down. "You're not pissed?" She tried, at a loss.

Sun frowned. "Why?"

"Why?" She repeated, "I mean, you did so much for her. You followed her to the other end of the planet."

"I would've done the same for any of my boys," he defended, his tail swinging rowdily from side to side. "It wasn't about that," he then added, and Yang still had an inkling the second part wasn't completely true. He was getting a little riled up after all. "I went 'cause really, I thought she was going on a one-woman rampage against the White Fang. I just thought she'd need help," he explained. "I didn't figure I'd follow her to be weird about it. And especially not counting on her owing me something back after, especially not like that. That'd be fucked up."

She nodded; it was somewhat reassuring to hear him say that. Because albeit maybe deep down he'd held out some hope that travelling with Blake would bring them closer, the fact was that he didn't believe himself entitled to a 'reward' and wasn't angry for not getting one. Yang gave him a small smile.

Sun plopped into the chair next to her. "You know, travelling with her, it made me really feel like…" He took a second leaning his elbow on the table and settling with head in his hand to observe her contemplatively. "It made me feel like comparing myself to you all the time."

Without having anticipated anything like this, it still wasn't too hard to understand why he might've felt this way. Yang found she was nevertheless very curious to know what he'd have to say. "How so?"

"Because, you know, being with her so much, it shoved it in my face that we really didn't mesh like she did with you," he explained a bit dejectedly. "Or just, even just basic communication was hard. It was like we weren't even speaking the same language at first." As he continued with his account, it looked to Yang as if he was getting agitated, maybe like it'd been weighing on him for the past months and he needed to vent about it. "When I did something, she'd get the wrong idea about it, and we'd end up arguing. And then she'd do something that boggled my mind and she'd get snappy that I wouldn't just get it. And she wouldn't explain!" He ranted, getting rather worked up.

What he was retelling was no surprise at all to her; she'd already seen it in small doses when they were back in Beacon. Maybe Sun had been oblivious to it back then, but as they'd constantly been in each other's bubble as he travelled with her over the past months, it would've been bound to become too prominent to ignore. And Blake's patience had already been thin with him then– or … it'd been thin with most people, really. In retrospect, Yang now pondered if, somehow, she'd had the magic touch with her ex-partner, or if the reason Blake had always been so much more indulgent with her had simply been because Blake had been attracted to her from very early on.

Sun settled down a bit and, though he was still looking at her, Yang had the impression that for a while, he was lost in his recollections of the last year. He exhaled lightly. "She… was really frustrating at times," he then admitted. "She'd act like I should just know what she thinks or how she feels, and then she'd get grumpy or upset if I got it wrong. And then… the brooding," he bemoaned, rolling his head on his shoulders and then grabbing it with both hands.

As she watched him, Yang wondered if all this had made him take a step back and re-evaluate his interest in Blake. Which maybe then explained why he'd handled so well her confirming there had been something more between Blake and her. He gave another sigh, a deeper one.

"…I know she was being especially difficult because she was still grieving everything that's happened. So I'm never gonna hold any of it against her," Sun explained, the tone of his voice quite gentler compared to his previous complaining. "And it did get a lot better as the months went by too. And I mean both the moodiness and how we eventually managed to sorta figure out the way the other thought. Sorta. But she…" He paused a second, and his dark blues searched her engrossed violets. "Even if it got better, I've seen how she was with you. You two barely needed to talk to get each other. It was like you just knew what she thought or how she felt. And maybe that's how she sort of came to expect that of a partner. And that's what made her a bit more irritated with me, but… yeah. In the end, Blake still never relied on me like she would with you. She was never at ease with me the way she was with you," he disclosed. "And she sure never smiled with me the way she did with you."

It was embarrassing how her heart swelled over this. She did her best to suppress her glee, both out of consideration for him and also because she… didn't want to be happy about that. It was exhausting. The entire situation with Blake made her feel the full spectrum of human emotion and she wasn't thrilled at all about being thrown all over the place this way. She cleared her throat. "Is that what made you think that she and I…?"

"This, that, other things," he waved off casually. "Puzzle pieces were there all over, it wasn't too hard to put 'em together once the idea was in my head." With this, he sprung to his feet and started washing the bell pepper and mushrooms he'd laid on the countertop. "So you really were a thing?"

"Sorta. I mean, it would've happened if we'd had a bit more time," she disclosed. "But… Yeah. We were into each other."

"Man, I wish I'd known," he said, shaking his head to himself as he laid out a cutting board and grabbed a knife with a flourish before starting to chop an onion. "I must've annoyed the hell out of you two."

"We were still figuring everything out," she offered, so glad for how the situation was unraveling. The last thing she would've wanted on top of it all would've been to have to deal with a resentful Sun.

Sun glanced back at her. "Why didn't you tell me to back off your girl though?"

Yang shrugged. "Because she wasn't my girl," she said. "Exactly because she wasn't, I… I felt like it was unfair. I mean, it didn't feel like I had the right to be territorial like that when I hadn't reached a place where I could give her a straight answer yet," she then explained, playing with the hem of her orange hoodie sleeve.

"Oh what, she was chasing you?"

"You say that like I wasn't a total catch," she snorted, feeling herself smirk.

And indeed, embarrassment visibly washed over him. "No, that's not what—I just figured, because you were flirting with her like all the time that it was the other way around."

"I was pretty dense about the whole thing for the longest time," she confessed. That truly was the only way she could summarize it. "And when I did start to figure it out, I… still had stuff to sort through before I was actually ready to commit."

He pulled out a cast iron pan, threw some oil in and fired up the stove. "Like, figuring out that you're gay?"

"I'm not gay."

"Huh?"

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back into her chair. "Geez, don't look so surprised."

He cocked his head; his tail was a giant question mark. "So Blake's a special exception?"

"She's not an exception," Yang stated, balancing her chair back on the two back legs. "Why would it have to be one or the other? I like what I like."

" , sure," he acquiesced, getting back to his pan.

She watched him throw the onions in the hot pan and start chopping a bell pepper. This thing he was making was serious business. "…She wasn't an exception, but she was special," Yang quietly conceded, almost more to herself. "Everything was better with her. She was different than anyone I'd ever met or was ever around. She wasn't like any friend I'd had or anyone I ever dated," she idly described, resisting the wave of memories that was seeping into her mind's eye. "I've had boyfriends before, and I've been comfortable with them, it was nice, but… everything was just so much better with her."

He looked happy that she was loosening up and willing to chat about it. "Yeah? Like what?"

"Like… everything," she repeated, not really knowing how to start answering him. "You know, you were saying that with her you'd always have issues with understanding what the other meant? And how I could read and understand her? She could do the same for me, you know? So often, she'd just… know. She could see it, every time I'd put up a front. And she was patient and she… actually wanted to hear what I had to say, you know? She cared so much," she explained, getting a slight nod from the blond faunus.

The brawler took a second to regroup herself, trying to think up a way to convey what order of magnitude better everything had been with Blake. She watched for a second as he dropped the rest of the produce in the pan, started the oven and popped the bread rolls.

"I've had boyfriends while at Signal. Felt like they were either waiting for their turn to speak or for me to be done talking, while Blake made me feel like… there was nothing in the world that was more important." A surge of memory had started to overwhelm her as she spoke and fill her with poignant emotion; she exhaled gently. "Through the time we had together, she got to know me better than anyone, she knows the ugliest sides of me, and she still… cares this much about me."

Sun grinned, sautéing the veggies. "What ugly sides? You have those?"

"You have no idea, I'm a beast," she shot back, feeling herself smile. It made him laugh and he resumed what he'd been doing. With the meat in the microwave, he set aside the pan and started shredding cheese. Yang leaned her chin in her mechanical arm. "I don't think the guys I dated before, they really understood who I was, not even half as well as she did," she absentmindedly resumed. "They were probably into me for my looks. Or my tits or something," she added with a snort. "I mean, not that Blake wasn't into any of that, but… you know, it's not just that."

Sun glanced her way with his eyebrows perched up high. "She what now?"

His reaction made her somewhat self-conscious. How was it a surprise? He'd guessed Blake was attracted to her, so wasn't it implicit she would be into those too? "…I mean… she's… into me. Like, not just friends. So…?"

"Yeah, I thought she might like you that way, but I didn't think about it more than that, you know?"

Even if he hadn't, wasn't it still a given? "Okay, but… knowing she had that sort of interest in me, isn't it, like, obvious that she'd… uh… also have the uh…to also be interested in…?" She awkwardly made a very quick motion down her body.

"In? In what?" And as he seemed to actually think about what was being said, what was insinuated in Yang knowing for a fact that Blake was into her physically eventually dawned on him, and Sun's face fell at once. "Hold up— you said you were only sort of a thing though?!"

Her face flared in mortification. "We were figuring it out!"

"It ain't hard to figure out you're into her if you're getting it on?!"

"That wasn't what I needed to figure out!"

He brought both hands to his face as he raised his head up, arching his back. "Aww geez, why didn't you tell me to back off?!" Sun swiftly turned to her again. "You should've told me to back off!"

Settling down a bit, Yang sunk in her chair. "Like I said, I… didn't think it was fair. I kept taking. And I wasn't owning up to how I felt," she confessed softly, "and I didn't want to start policing anything about… her or anyone else, because I felt I had no right. It'd have been asking too much because I already wasn't really being fair with her."

Her more somber mood having cleared the agitation, what she related left a silence in the kitchen. Sun took the bread out of the oven and started whipping together what appeared to be a homemade ranch dressing. It was a few minutes before he paused and looked at her again. "I have a suggestion," he announced, setting everything aside for a second. "Maybe if you haven't been fair with her then, you can make up for that now by indulging her? Maybe let her show you how far she's come," he proposed. Yang didn't know what sort of expression she had, but his features softened with dejection. "...She really feels like she fucked up, you know?"

Her gaze dropped to her hands on the table, her finger idly stroking the wood. "She really kinda did though."

"You don't even wanna give her a chance?"

Violet eyes snapped back to him. "That's not what I said."

"So, you will?" He insisted, hopeful.

Which really still puzzled her. "What's it to you anyways?"

He sighed. "I care a lot about her. More now than ever, after having gotten to know her—really know her," he affirmed, and Yang was very aware of her reaction this time, of how her jaw tightened reflexively and how she narrowed her eyes despite herself. Sun frowned a bit in return. "Don't make that face, I'm not saying I'm in love with her or anything."

"…Aren't you?"

"I don't think I ever was," he said disconcertedly leaning on the kitchen counter. "I mean, I won't lie, I liked her, but… I didn't know her much before all this. And after the year we've had… well, I told you. She didn't turn out to be real easy to understand or…at least, it was a lot of work to get along. We had no chemistry, like at all. So I guess along the way I wasn't interested anymore…? I don't know what to tell you," he admitted with a shrug, promptly resuming moving, taking out two plates. "But I've seen her go through so much like a champ," he then added emphatically. "And she's headstrong and so smart and inspiring—she's been busting her ass changing the world out there and she's doing it completely selflessly," he explained, puffing up his chest a bit. It wasn't unlike Yang would do herself when she talked about Ruby with pride, and she wondered if the nature of his feelings had shifted from romantic to something more akin to fraternal. Sun planted his hands on his hips, his tail swinging wildly. "She's a damn special girl, and if anyone deserves to be happy, it's her. And I'll damn well try to get her in whoever's pants she wants to be in."

She pursed her lips, maybe blushing a bit. "I don't think she'd like knowing you're trying to get her laid."

"I think she'd forgive me if I'm any help getting her back into your pants."

"It's not happening," Yang stiffly said, regretting ever having let him understand things had gotten that far.

"Not today," he cheekily stressed much too optimistically.

"Or tomorrow, or any time soon."

"So not soon, but sometime, right?"

"No time!"

"Ever?"

Her breath caught in her throat as the potential reality of never again being intimate with Blake slammed into her. It was undeniable she didn't want that.

The blond faunus grinned again. "Okay, cool, sometime then."

She dropped her head in her hands, feeling the back of her neck heat up with embarrassment. "Oh my god you're so annoying, how does she deal with you?!"

Sun laughed heartily. "Because she has to," he proudly said, and although she wasn't looking at him, she could tell he started busying himself putting the food together. "Don't give her too much of a hard time making amends, okay? She's beat herself down enough already."

"I'm sure she did," Yang murmured, leaning back again to sit normally.

His dark blue eyes lingered on her violet ones. "Be good to her, yeah?"

She drearily gazed back. "…When wasn't I?"

He broke eye contact with a dejected half-smile, took the food and walked up to the table. "Give her the chance and she'll be good to you," he stated, setting down a plate in front of her.

"Hmm." Yang lingered on the fancy sandwich on her plate for a second. As they'd gotten invested in the conversation, she had almost forgotten the effort he'd been putting into this had also been for her. And the situation sort of dawned on her that not only that, but this guy was very graciously pushing her into the arms of a girl he'd been into for the longest time. And he'd also made her a pretty damn great sandwich. She raised her gaze to him. "You're a great guy, you know?"

"I'm pretty much the best, yeah," he boasted, plopping down next to her with a grin, starting on his food.

"What are you two even doing?" Weiss's voice interrupted, getting both of them to turn to her. Blake was standing a few steps behind her. Yang was about to start answering, but her friend cut her off. "Don't answer with your mouth full, keep chewing."

Which she did, very extensively, making a point of staring back into those uncompromising icy orbs as she slowly chewed. She then exaggeratedly swallowed.

"Speak."

"Sun made me a sandwich, so I'm eating it," Yang unhelpfully described, as if that wasn't plainly obvious already. "Why are you two up at this hour?"

"Weren't you supposed to get water and come back to bed?" Weiss interrogated.

"What? How—"

The small lady gestured to their teammate behind her. "Blake came to our room to check on you because, apparently, you were pacing the hall a while ago," she revealed, and it wasn't hard filling the blanks of how they might have realized Yang had wandered off. "We were worried," Weiss scolded.

Violet eyes drifted from her friend to the faunus behind her. Blake didn't seem to know what to think of the impromptu meal she was sharing with an unexpected companion. "Sun made me a sandwich," Yang repeated.

Sun's tail twitched. "I can make you one," he offered.

Weiss was only more annoyed. "Who eats a meal at two in the morning?!"

"I eat when my stomach tells me to," he candidly volunteered, to which he received a very icy glare.

As she watched Sun shrink back a few inches, Yang leaned over to him. "Believe it or not, she can't actually shoot ice beams out of her eyes," she said under her breath.

"I thought she might for a second," he swiftly whispered.

"I get that," Yang nodded.

"It's bad manners to talk about me like I'm not right there," Weiss commented, as Blake briskly advanced towards them.

"I'll have some," she interjected.

Watching the dark-haired beauty seat herself next to her, Yang wondered if she'd only came forward to interrupt the brewing bickering or if it was that she saw an opportunity to spend some time with her. She swiftly decided it was likely both; Blake wasn't one for midnight snacks, she barely ever had any appetite after all. Sun started getting up to make another sandwich, leaving his work of culinary art on his plate.

"Wait," Yang grabbed his arm to keep him still. She hadn't even been hungry to start with, so she pushed her plate towards the newcomer. "Here," she quietly said, offering the half-eaten thing to her.

Blake glanced down at it, her eyebrows going up a bit with an air somewhat akin to budding optimism, which Yang elected to brush off.

"Just cut off the part where I ate from," she motioned, though she knew Blake wouldn't have any qualms about it.

"I don't mind that," the dark-haired faunus promptly answered, taking the remaining half of the sandwich in both hands.

Violet followed the movement. Blake looked happy. And somehow, that stirred something painful in her stomach; the nostalgia, the yearning, but along with them, all her concerns. Yang abruptly stood up, startling both faunus.

Without a word she briskly walked past her teammate and headed towards their room without looking back. Weiss followed suit without a word, but the blonde could feel her cautious gaze on her. Opting not to acknowledge it, she walked to her bed. While she removed her hoodie, which would be way too hot to sleep in, and her prosthesis, which was uncomfortable to sleep with, Weiss bundled herself in her own covers, still staring at her. Yang dropped herself on the mattress, turning her back to her.

"You know," Weiss started quietly. "If you're so worried about her that you can't sleep, there's an empty bed in Blake's room."

Her face scrunched in annoyance. "Don't start."

"Why?"

"I'm tired."

"That's convenient," she shot back sarcastically.

Which was only more irritating. "No, it's not convenient, it's normal to be tired at two thirty A.M."

"Fine," Weiss said, undeterred. "You could still sleep in that second bed over in her room."

Yang glanced back at her. "You don't want me around?"

She narrowed her pale eyes in disapproval. "You know that's not what this is."

"And this should stop," the blonde admonished, losing her patience.

They gauged at each other for a few seconds. Satisfied that it didn't seem like her friend was going to push further, Yang sunk back in her bed, her back to her. As silence settled, Yang stared out in the darkness even though she'd claimed having been tired. She watched the shadows of rustling leaves projected on the wall by the faint moonlight. It was a long time of her trying to think of nothing, and somehow, she knew her friend was as wide awake as she was.

Weiss proved her right not too long later. "It's like you can't be with her more than five minutes," she muttered.

"I can."

"Sure, if needed, like when we do briefings," she scoffed. "But you won't just be around her otherwise."

Spot on. Yang sat up, turning to her with an uncomfortable mix of dejection and exasperation. "What do you want me to say?"

Her friend had a sort of sullen expression that was very unlike the very admonishing one she'd usually wear in that sort of conversation. "She's trying really hard, you know?"

"I know," the blonde conceded, breaking eye contact. "I hate it."

"Then what is she supposed to do?" Weiss snapped, sitting up too.

"I don't know, but I don't like this," Yang defended, "her going out of her way and not being… normal. It's not like being like that will erase everything."

"I don't think she believes being extra attentive would erase anything," she reasoned. "It's plain that... it's only expected that she'd be looking for opportunities to bond with you again."

"Well it shouldn't be," she grumpily groused.

Weiss appeared confused. "Shouldn't be what?"

"Expected."

And now yet more confused. "What, why?"

"...Things have changed," she repeated vaguely. "I'm not the same person."

As she said this, her snow-haired friend's bafflement progressed to a point it looked like she might develop a headache. "You know, you said that the other morning, and I can't for the life of me figure out what changed so much that you might think you two couldn't make it."

"Oh come on, if one person knows, it's you," she erupted in irritation. Weiss just seemed completely lost and quite unhappy about it, yet all the brawler could think was how could her friend not know how so very unlike her old self Yang had become? She'd witnessed her having night terrors and crying in the middle of the night. Bitterness rose in her throat as with the feeling that Weiss was brushing off too much simply for wanting to hope to see the situation resolved. "This," she tapped the side of her head, "is a mess. You know I'm not the same," she vehemently asserted, to which Weiss visibly shrunk some. Yang knew she'd made her point, but nevertheless continued like she couldn't stop herself. "…And this," she raised her stump, "sure as hell isn't attractive."

Icy blue eyes obstinately stayed locked with hers. For a second, she evidently didn't know how to argue, though it wasn't clear if it was where to start or what to say that had her at a loss. "…You're not unattractive because of that," she carefully said.

Yang had a peeved scoff. "It's easy for you to say; I'm your friend, and you don't see me like that," she argued. "Blake's different."

Her lips tightened, and again, for a short moment she was unable to answer. Weiss finally couldn't sustain eye contact. "So, what…?" She said uneasily. "You think that everything she's doing, the way she's being… it's only atonement she's after? You think it's only to make herself feel better? Not to rekindle your relationship? That's absurd."

More and more miserable by the minute, Yang pressed her hand to her forehead under her bangs, rubbing her temples. "I don't know, Weiss," she forfeited, pushing her bangs back in her hair as she ran her hand to the back of her head before letting it drop to her side. "Nostalgia, guilt... they're powerful," she suggested. "Maybe she's longing for what was, and even though she sees it's different, she still hasn't really realized—like really realized that things have changed, you know? Like it still hasn't really sunk in, you know?" She explained, her stomach tightening. Wording those fears solidified their shape and putting them out there was truly taxing. She turned to her again and caught her stare. "You know who she fell in love with, right?"

She looked to be wondering if that was supposed to be a trick question. Tentatively, she tried: "...You?"

"Not this me," Yang furiously stressed. "She fell in love with the best version of me," she asserted. "The one who was indestructible and unstoppable. Who was strong enough to always be there for her, endlessly, tirelessly and blindly devoted. Someone who was confident and comfortable in her skin." Describing her perception of her past self, describing how confident she'd been only seemed to exacerbate how insecure she now felt on so many fronts. Her gaze dropped to her lap, to the bunched-up bed covers with a single hand resting on them. Something in her completely let go; she didn't find any need to censor herself without Ruby around this time, and how broken she'd been feeling escaped her. "And what's left now? A barely functional shell of that. Missing pieces, and terrified of what's in her own head," she muttered to finish.

Without warning, a pillow hit the side of her head, having her turn in surprise to her friend.

"A broken shell is not what I saw when I saw you standing in the middle of that den of thieves," Weiss uncompromisingly countered. How charged with constrained emotion her voice was betrayed her turmoil and her pale blue glare was a little glassy with those same feelings she was keeping in check. "Between how they were so anxiously staring at you, how tall you stood, and the orange sky making it look like your semblance was everywhere… in that moment, it was like the entire world belonged to you," she described. "The year I had at home, while it surely doesn't compare to the year you must've had, was just awful. And after that year, I can't begin to tell you… seeing you there, Yang," she exhaled gently and turned to slide her feet to the wooden floor. "It was like you were hope itself."

Left speechless by what her friend had to say, Yang's bewildered gaze lingered on her a bit before it dropped to her lap again. She couldn't wrap her head around what a formidable and awe-inspiring image of her Weiss had described, not when she'd been struggling so much to maintain a basic semblance of normalcy.

"The best version of you?" Weiss's voice drew her attention again. "It'll never have anything to do with what you look like or the nightmares you have or don't have. It'll only ever be— this will sound terribly cliché, I know, but... the best version of you will only ever be the one you decide you'll make the best," she cautioned, stepping up to retrieve her pillow, "the one you made the decision to become when you realized you couldn't let your emotions get the better of you all the time." Holding her pillow against herself for a second, she stood behind their two beds, contemplating her for a few seconds. "I can tell you with certainty that the person I see right now is better than the one I lived with a year ago. And I'm sure Blake has already noticed it too, in spite of how hell-bent you've been on avoiding being alone with her."

With the intense mix of emotions that stormed her body, she didn't even know how she stared back at her friend. But it made her discard her pillow unceremoniously to throw herself at her neck, not unlike she had when they'd first reunited.

And in the same way, Yang rested her hand on her back, affectionately leaning her head to hers. "…When did you become a hugger, you?"

"Quiet."

The following day, that conversation stayed with her. She nonetheless wasn't quite ready to sit down again with Blake, but ruminating the 'letting her emotions get the better of her' mindset that had guided her through her recovery made her uncomfortably aware of how Blake waltzing back into her life had temporarily made her neglect that goal. And it all only aggravated the malaise she had over getting so involved in her pain that she'd forgotten the sheer miracle of Blake being there at all, only to have Jaune not so subtly reprimand her about it the week prior.

Which is how, as the sun set, she found herself leaning against the wooden door frame of the gate that gave onto the training grounds, watching as her uncle proceeded to wipe the floor with the lumbering blonde boy. Jaune had gotten leagues better since the Beacon days but seeing him moving next to Qrow just made him look so… ungainly. The scene reminded her of very old days in Patch, when their uncle would sometimes tutor Ruby and her. The two of them, little girls barely big enough to hold up a weapon trying to merely touch one of the best fighters of Remnant, must've looked infinitely clumsier than Jaune.

It was almost half an hour before the would-be pupil called it and the tall,dark huntsman went his way. Seizing the moment, the brawler jogged up to her old classmate as he rested his weapon against the wall, taking a second to breathe.

"Hey, Jaune?"

"Not Vomit Boy? That's new," he commented, unbuckling his chest plate.

"It didn't sound to me like the right way to open up for an apology," Yang answered.

He paused halfway through removing it, extremely awkward for a second. "Yeah, about that. Um… Sorry I talked to you like that the other morning," he explained as he finished removing the armor piece. How drenched his hoodie was under it attested to how hard he'd trained and accounted for his need to remove it for the time being. "Actually, I couldn't believe after that I talked to you like that," he added sheepishly.

It took her a few seconds to process what he was saying; he'd gotten it completely wrong. "No wait, I'm coming to apologize to you."

"Huh?"

"...Yeah," she trailed off uncertainly. "What, you thought I wanted you to apologize?"

"Yeah," Jaune blankly confirmed.

"But I was the one out of line," Yang disconcertedly stated.

He looked amazingly confused. "I walked in on your private conversation and no one asked me my opinion, I had no right to say that," he explained.

"But you were right," she stressed. "I… was so focused on what went wrong that I forgot to be thankful that she's… she didn't just somehow find us, she's also healthy and well. I shouldn't have taken that for granted," she explained awkwardly. She also knew it hit home harder to hear from Jaune that she should be grateful, both because of how he lost his own partner and how he wasn't one to usually put his foot down like that. Her mechanical fingers wandered to the back of her head, scratching gently. "And I mean, the kitchen's a public space, you know? A really private conversation, I wouldn't have had it in the open like that. Or at least we would've stopped when we realized you were there," she rationalized. "No, what you said was right. And I'm glad you said it. I needed to wake up a bit."

To all that, he truly didn't know how to answer; he stared at his boots abashedly, evidently not having expected she'd take it that way.

Witnessing him in that moment, he looked just like the old Jaune, the one who could barely hold his sword right, albeit maybe a little taller. It was such a disparity with how uncompromisingly firm he'd been that other morning, that it accentuated how far he'd come. "You've grown a lot, you know," Yang commented. "…She'd be proud of you."

Jaune's gaze wandered out to the training ground as he managed a half-hearted smile. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I've got a long, long way to go still," he disagreed, evidently very aware of the gap that remained between him and the other former students. "But I do want to be someone she'd be proud of," he then resolutely added, turning back to her. "Most of all, I want to become what she saw in me. She saw more in me than anyone ever did, and I want to prove her right."

Emotion rose to blur her senses for a short second, thinking of how happy Pyrrha would be to have had such an impact and to be honored by the people she'd been closest to. "That's noble of you," she acknowledged.

He shrugged. "I don't know about that. All I know is that it's what I need to do to be able to cope," he divulged. With this, he gathered the bottom part of his hoodie to wipe his face with it, exposing that he was wearing a Pumpkin Pete's shirt underneath that matched his hoodie. "…Did Blake ever make you want to be better?"

Yang hadn't expected for him to venture inquiring about her own ex-partner, so being put on the spot had blood rush to her face. "She really did. All the time," she admitted.

His interest stayed on her, openly observing her. "Still now?"

Definitely still now, but not for all the same reasons and all the same ways, and Yang didn't know how to convey that. She used to yearn for Blake and be inspired by her in a way that set her heart on fire. Now it was more like… she still saw all that, but she'd also… she had also been burned, and her relationship with Blake was one of the things that was forcing her to grow in her capacity to keep her emotions in check.

In her silence, he probably guessed that she either didn't want to answer or that the answer might be too private. And maybe it was for feeling he might have encroached on something personal and that to have the right to ask anything of the sort he had to volunteer something of his own that he found himself saying what he did. "I never told anyone this," he quietly divulged, "but… Pyrrha… she kissed me. Before she went off to the tower."

"She did, huh…" Yang mused, her eyebrows going up a bit. The feelings Pyrrha held for him had been weighing on her for so long, it was a small comfort to know she at least had been able to make peace with this before the end. "…I'm glad she could let you know. She'd liked you for the longest time."

"...You knew?"

"No offense, but she was being pretty obvious. Pretty sure most people knew."

He seemed at a loss of words for a second, and then his jaw clenched a bit and the tip of fingers paled as he gripped his chest plate tighter. "I wish she'd told me."

It was a curious reaction to her because she didn't know how that would've changed anything. "But you were all about Weiss, weren't you?"

Jaune sucked in his lips for a second, maybe thinking over how to express his answer. "I think... it… it might have changed had I known. I guess it hadn't occurred to me that Pyrrha… might be an option at all," he admitted ruefully. "And I guess… because I'd been a bit of a fan of Weiss even before Beacon, so I had tunnel vision. But Pyrrha was…" he trailed off thoughtfully, taking a second to re-don his armor. He didn't buckle it just yet. "She was the person I relied on, the one I trusted the most. And who I looked to all the time. The only one whose opinion mattered. When things were bad, she was the one to support us, and when things were good, she was the one I wanted to smile and celebrate with," he then explained, and this way of describing it felt awfully familiar to Yang. "And somehow I never realized how much she meant to me before it was too late. I'm an idiot."

"Yeah," she agreed, earning a dejected smile from him. Her hand had found its way to the back of her neck. "If it makes you feel better, we're both idiots."

Stupefaction took over his crestfallen mood. "You didn't figure it out before it was too late?" Frowning, he blinked rapidly. "Or- wait, I thought I'd understood you were together at some point."

Yang shrugged. "... It was complicated. But I acted like an idiot with her, that's for sure."

He hummed, fastening his armor. "Were you already together at the dance?"

She shook her head faintly. "It was all still brewing,"

"Really?" He sounded surprised. "The way you danced together looked like the most natural thing to you two, you looked really good."

"...Yeah," she breathed, the image of Blake in that evening dress coming to mind. She'd been absolutely gorgeous, and Yang had spent the rest of that evening watching her from afar. She'd had a lot on her plate for the event to unfold smoothly, but Blake had drawn her eyes time and time again. Yang had still been too dumb to figure out it wasn't simply admiration for her ex-partner's objectively exceptional beauty. "Yeah, thanks," she added, at once recognizing the compliment extended to her too. "We weren't together though. If dancing looked so natural, it's just because everything always felt natural with her. When we teamed up, or the blind trust in combat, or just... everything. She was always special," she sighed. "To the extent that I really thought… she was the one."

Maybe it was the way she retold it, but he asked: "Not anymore?"

"I don't know," she confessed uneasily.

There was a pause before he carefully continued. "You don't love her anymore?"

Her chest constricted. "…No, I love her." If she was able to answer so unfalteringly and so frankly, it was likely because she'd been helped through the process by the talks she'd had over the last few days. "I never stopped loving her, no matter how much it hurt. And I wished I could stop loving her during the time she was gone," she conceded, although she would've been loath to recognize that a mere week ago. "How I feel… isn't why I don't know if she could still be the one."

No, it was her ability to trust her and rely on her, how she wondered if she would ever be able to completely entrust herself to her, that was leaving her so unsure. It was also her fear of having become someone Blake might not be able to love, because she wasn't the bright person she used to be. Not to forget, there was also her disgust with her mutilation which left her unable to conceive others not being grossed out by it. All that uncertainty was eating her up and it only seemed to help her self-image rot more and more every day.

"Would you have regrets if anything bad happened?"

Absorbed with her inner conflict, she again seemed to have forgotten that the team would be going out to face danger very soon. "…About a million," she murmured.

"Having regrets sucks," he affirmed simply.

Yang's eyes idly lingered on her hands. She'd almost expected him to start moralizing, telling her to do what she can to avoid having any regrets, but she realized it wasn't quite like him. She observed the ball joints of her mechanical fingers and how the yellow phalanx glided on them as she faintly moved them. The way Jaune didn't try to push or pull one way or another or tell her how he would act from there or how maybe she should act was soothing in its way. Yet the way he offered this simple observation based on his experience was more of a kick to the stomach than any sort of convincing that anyone else might've attempted.

"If she'd lived," she prudently started, "If she'd lived, but had gotten hurt and like... she didn't look the same, would you still have wanted to be with her?"

His gaze fell on her prosthetic arm, and Yang hated how obvious her question was, but she'd somehow been powerless to resist it passing her lips. Jaune's interest drifted to his sheath, or rather, the golden circlet that had been forged into it. "If Blake had never left, but instead she was the one who'd gotten hurt really badly, would that have changed anything between you and her?" He countered, even if Yang had the clear impression that he already knew very well what her answer might be.

If Blake had lost a limb or if she'd have been disfigured, if the red sword had hit her spine to rob her of her mobility, if anything had happened, no matter what she might think of, there was no question Yang wouldn't have wanted to be with her any less, and she surely wouldn't have loved her any less.

But that didn't mean that Blake would be the same did it? Though she seemed undeterred, Yang found it hard to tell because the prosthetic did a good job of rebalancing her silhouette visually, and it certainly re-enabled her remarkably in a functional capacity. So much so that it might in fact allow glossing over her mutilation until she removed it, which she would to sleep or shower for instance —the scar tissue needed to breathe. The image she projected when she was decked out in her huntress attire and armed to the teeth might resemble who she'd been, but day to day life was very different. And would that lackluster image still be attractive to Blake? ...And how could romantic love not die if attraction in her most real moments was ruled out?

Yang exhaled inaudibly. "Because I'd react a certain way doesn't mean Blake would do the same," she ended up saying. "...And even if she doesn't want it to change anything, maybe we can't help that it does. Maybe she'd find she can't… love me the way she used to."

"You might be right," he yielded. "Your guess would be much better than mine when it comes to how she thinks."

She felt her lips tighten. Everyone who she'd spoken to until now had been unyieldingly optimistic about the whole thing, and him allowing that her fears might be well founded was unexpectedly akin to slamming into a wall. "Yeah," she unsteadily muttered. "But even knowing her as well as I do, I still can't sort it out."

Jaune sheathed his sword. "You do get to find out for real if you want to though. She's right there," he reminded her.

Did she want to find out? Would she be able to stomach it if her fears were founded? Would she be able to endure rejection if she decided to get close to her again, and if it turned out that there was no chemistry anymore? … If it turned out that Blake couldn't get turned on because of that unnatural void on her right side?

Which brought on a question she didn't want to have to find out the answer to: Would she ever be able to move on from what they had?

The instantaneous answer was; certainly not if she didn't know for sure. She indubitably would have to find out if Blake could still love her completely, she would have to find out whether or not this was a remnant of nostalgia or if Blake's feelings were legitimately unaffected by Yang being crippled. And as if the whole idea of trying to find out about all this wasn't terrifying enough, doing so would have Yang compromise her own strength to bear rejection if it took a turn for the worst… or withstand abandonment again if it came to that.

With all those notions polluting her mind, it was all she could do to keep her cool. "Yeah," she nevertheless agreed. "Alright, I'll let you go," she quickly added, and he seemed to understand that she would rather they stop there. He nodded, putting his weapon away as he started down the corridor to the dorms. She watched him walk away for a few seconds, not feeling quite right with how the conversation ended. "Hey Jaune," she called. He glanced back. "…Thanks."

He waved in response, and it wasn't too long before he was out of sight. Yang leaned her back to the wall and let herself slide down to a sitting position, looking out onto the empty training grounds.

She kept thinking to herself that things were different, that she wasn't the same person, that Blake would eventually be disillusioned and surely stop desiring what they used to have. Everything that everyone kept telling her ran opposite to that line of thought. And of course… she would've liked to believe they were right, but it was so hard to hope. It wasn't like before. Before the Fall of Beacon, she unquestionably would've believed Blake would stick by her through thick and thin. Yet now that she'd been burned, all she seemed to be able to envision was the worst-case scenario. She couldn't pinpoint what the main culprit of that negative spin on her thought process was; Blake having let her down or her own already shaky sense of self-worth having simply collapsed after being abandoned yet again. It was some of both for sure, but she couldn't tell what to start with if she was to fix anything at all.

With a groan, she brought her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and rested her head on her knees. It was all so much messier than she could've anticipated, and likely that was because she had been so unprepared for this. After all, she hadn't allowed herself to fantasize much about reuniting with her… she hadn't been able to think about it because it hurt too much.

She was grateful for Blake being with them. She liked it much better than being left wondering by herself if she was well or what she was doing. But she'd also be so grateful if everything was just magically resolved. If she somehow could have some sort of certainty about… anything at all, really! What Blake felt, what she felt herself, what they individually wanted, what the future might be like, if Blake could be relied on – any sort of certainty about any of this would be great if she was going to move forward in any direction.

"Yang?"

Her voice sent a shiver through her skin, and the blonde raised her head from the way it rested on her knees to tentatively glance up at her.

"Jaune told me you might still be here," Blake softly said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she mechanically answered, before deciding that dismissing her mood this way wasn't a good enough answer. Especially since Blake probably knew better anyways, having stumbled upon her curled up this way. Yang sighed. "I don't know."

"Do you want to talk?"

"Not really."

Blake's eyes found the ground for a second before drifting to their surroundings. She looked back to her. "…Do you want to spar, then?"

With a bit of surprise, she stared back blankly for a second. Old memories of training for tag team moves, tumbling around on mats in the gymnasium, or just attempting to knock each other off their feet came to her. How they laughed freely or taunted each other, how they would unreservedly fall on top of each other and help each other back up… it all felt like a dream now. She wondered if sparring now would bring that out of them, or if… Blake might be craving for Yang to hurt her back. Or worse, if maybe Blake might not take her seriously because of her mutilation. The blonde didn't want to find out. "...No thanks."

Her long pause had evidently given away having been tempted, because Blake asked, "Why not?"

The mechanical fingers twitched against her knee. "Because you won't come at me seriously."

This appeared to have stung her. "What makes you think I wouldn't?"

"Come on, Blake," she scoffed. "We both know you wouldn't, not as things are right now," she alleged dryly. "And the last thing I want is to be giving you a beating, even if you think you deserve it." As she said this, a hint of shame crossed her features and her cat ears flattened along with it, confirming Yang's suspicions. She shook her head dejectedly. "We don't spar."

Silence stretched and the faunus seemed to find her nerve to try again. "…Can I sit with you, then?"

"I wasn't gonna stay," she stiffly replied, standing up. "I still haven't packed my stuff."

Blake was visibly disheartened by being shot down again. "Right."

The blonde cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Jaune told you I was here? Why? Were you looking for me?"

"Everything's ready for the trip back to Menagerie, and my stuff's already all packed," the other woman explained. "I just… had some free time."

"Didn't feel like reading?"

Her golden eyes fluttered up to meet hers with such gentle yearning, it made Yang stupidly weak. "I can't focus on reading when I know I could be spending time with you," Blake confessed.

It made her feel awful. She was being avoidant, dry and cynical, generally unpleasant and yet Blake still patiently tried again and again. She couldn't hold her gaze. "I… really need to pack," the blonde uneasily repeated, awkwardly catching her stare again. "But I don't mind if you want to come to my room with me."

The way her features illuminated with hope made Yang's heart flutter. What happened with her relatively somber mood wasn't unlike when clouds dissipated, and one could finally see a sliver of bright blue sky. From the bottom of her soul she wanted her to smile like that again and again and again. And she knew very well that if Blake hadn't been smiling it was her own fault, because she was distant and sour, and despite her instincts of self-conservation she still resolved that the wall she'd been keeping up must crumble.

As they walked back to the dorms, Blake hurried to the door first, so she could hold it open for her. It was one of those many things Blake had been doing since they'd reunited that, though were being done in good faith, Yang especially disliked. It was unnecessary and unnatural; her ex-partner had never done things like that in the past. If anything, Yang had been the one opening doors for her, because otherwise Blake might slam into them as she read-walked.

The brawler nevertheless couldn't bring herself to say anything about it yet. She didn't want to reprimand any of her actions when they'd just found a balance, when they'd found neutral ground to spend a bit of time together.

As she gathered her things and packed, they barely talked at all. To Yang, it at first felt like Blake was challenging herself to simply… be normal with her. It was awkward, but gathering her own task offered enough distraction to ease into comfort even without talking much. It reminded her of those days when Blake would spend hours reading on her bed, and Yang would at moments lie next to her to nap or play video games, or she would sit with her to do homework, or brush her hair, or make an attempt at mending Ruby's ever-more tattered cape. They wouldn't talk much at all then either, but Yang had adored those moments and her quiet presence. She used to sit through classes, longing for the few hours she'd be able to just… do nothing with her. And that'd been the case still without yet understanding what she actually yearned for, why she felt so good merely spending longer and longer periods of time loafing at her side.

Blake wasn't reading right now so the entire thing wasn't as nonchalant as it used to be. But the faunus wasn't trying to engage either, hence Yang felt no pressure to make awkwardly shallow conversation either. The blonde found she was infinitely grateful for this occasion of plainly getting accustomed to being in each other's presence again. So much so that she ended up stretching out her time packing, stretching the task to spend just a few more minutes like this. Maybe, it was that she didn't know what would happen once she was done; she didn't know if Blake would leave or if she'd try to get her to open up. Yang didn't really want either to happen. She was enjoying this limbo, just being able to be with her, for a few instants liberated from the strain of what intense emotions both their relationship and the turmoil of events had left them with. Yet the time came that Yang zipped up her bag, leaving her pajamas on top of it. Her gaze lingered on her belongings before it caught Blake's golden orbs.

For a second, neither knew how to proceed.

"Were you going to get ready for bed?" The faunus eventually asked. It was pretty clear that the question implied was whether or not she had to leave.

"Not right away," Yang answered. It was still a bit early, but it was mostly that she wanted to keep her there— not that she was going to say it, though. "I still gotta do some maintenance," she claimed, raising her mechanical arm. It wasn't due yet, but it was the first thing that came to mind to stretch the moment.

The sheer guilt and malaise that crossed Blake's features as she broke eye contact made Yang's stomach turn, and Blake spoke before she could tell her she didn't want to hear it. "I'm sorry you had to suffer for me."

Her insides knotted themselves. "It wasn't your fault," she heard herself argue instead of telling her she didn't want to talk about it.

"I knew he was out there," she ruefully persisted, "and if only I'd warned you about what he was capable of, then maybe— And, and what brought him to hurt you was—"

"Stop," Yang cut in, unwilling to let the other woman unravel. "Stop going down that road. It's easy to look back and say 'I should've', but back then you didn't know what you know now. And it's like you forget, but I chose to interfere; I'm part of this mess because I chose to be," she fiercely contended. "Yeah, he was there for you, but it's not your fault he's the way he is and decided to hunt you down! It's because of who he is that all this happened, not because of anything you've done. And he hurt me because I stepped in. This is the result of my choice," she insisted.

"You wouldn't have had to make that choice if it wasn't for—"

"I don't care what brought him!" Yang asserted. "Had it been him or anything else, it doesn't change anything, Blake! All of this, it's not about him," she pressed, desperate to convey, to make her understand what actually drove her. "What I chose that night, it was to do everything I could for you! I don't regret that, I'll never regret that—I'd do it again, no question."

Blake stared up at her, completely immobile, holding her breath. It looked like she was afraid of saying anything, of shattering the moment, and Yang completely understood why. She had just owned up to having remained so devoted to her that she would still sacrifice just as much.

Suddenly awfully self-conscious, Yang's gaze was on the floor, or her bag, or the nightstand. "I… have a lot to sort out when it comes to you," she continued a bit anxiously, "but I told you I'm not angry with you about that, and I mean it. My arm, it's… it's not the reason I need time," she reminded her, watching as some restlessness and tension eased from the other woman's features. "I know I can't tell you to stop feeling guilty, I know that's not just going to go away that easily. But stop apologizing,"

Blake had a single, faint nod.

She cleared her throat uneasily. "...Anyways," she shakily resumed. "I'm gonna… take care of that," she raised her prosthesis again in an awkward movement.

"Would you prefer I leave?"

"...You don't have to," she said, even though she'd initially decided to do this in an effort to keep her there, "but it's not very interesting," she added as a disclaimer. But then again, the other woman had watched her pack her bag without getting bored.

"It's interesting to me," Blake gently answered.

And before she knew it, they were sitting together so she could show her what maintenance there was to be done on her mechanical arm. Blake sat close enough that her body heat and subtle perfume made her head spin, and yet far enough that they didn't brush each other, not even accidentally. It was a gap neither could close, albeit its very existence felt utterly wrong. Yang did her best to focus her attention to the fine-tuning she was working on, but she found she was doing everything mindlessly, out of pure habit. Her head was elsewhere; whether it was completely blank or rushing at a million miles an hour, she didn't know. She was entirely conquered by the other woman's presence. Even being fairly certain that it was rather boring, she made small talk of explaining what she was doing. She needed to keep as busy as possible.

When she outspread the gun hidden in her arm to take apart components to clean, Blake's ears twitched in surprise.

"You don't need Ember Celica anymore?" She inquired.

"Not really, no. This thing's well equipped," Yang answered nonchalantly, starting her task with the canon. "…And… you know. It's not like I have a choice."

It was a few seconds of silence in which she could tell Blake's attention was on her features, not the prosthesis anymore. "Would you find a way to use it if you had it?"

For a second, she was puzzled with why she would even query about this, but then a flash of that night came to mind— a searing memory of how Sun had told her Blake might not have evacuated Beacon Academy at all. Her body stiffened; she didn't yet dare look her way. "Why are you asking?"

"I stayed on the campus grounds for a couple of months," the faunus admitted quietly, confirming what she dreaded, and Yang already knew where this was heading. "I tried to help clearing the Grimm, but they just wouldn't stop coming," Blake explained instead of going straight to the point.

What had been on the news following the catastrophic event invaded Yang's mind; reports of the ruins, images of the once so prestigious academy as teachers, Huntsmen and students tried to push back the Grimm. As she'd watched all this, her injury still in excruciating pain and sinking into depression, Yang had noticed… in those broadcasts, there weren't any bodies left lying around. Between the Grimm and the White Fang radicals, hundreds of civilians, students, and huntsmen had lost their lives. The horror of it had been engraved into her, albeit, as it unfolded, she'd done her best not to linger on it as she'd desperately looked for Blake. Yet on her TV screen, there hadn't been any corpses. Which meant before wiping out the monsters or trying to rebuild, volunteers had been clearing out remains. Her throat was tied at the idea that Blake, trying to nurse a crippling wound herself, might have helped out with that. Or that… Blake might have made a point to find her arm before it was disposed of, before Ember Celica was lost.

"…And you went back for it?" she finally made herself ask.

"Our weapons are an extension of ourselves, they're almost part of us," the faunus remarked, not that Yang needed any reminder of it. Her long, delicate fingers had laced themselves together, as if Blake needed to hold onto something. "I needed to hold on to any part of you I could," she then added under her breath, her gaze riveted to her own hands in her lap. "And at the back of my mind, I thought maybe someday I might be able to give it back," she divulged, apprehensively stealing a glance up at her. "…I've been meaning to give it back,"

Blake probably hadn't truly had the opportunity until then because of how Yang had made a point of not being in her company more than she had to. Or maybe Blake had deemed there had been enough high emotions for the time being? It didn't matter all that much. "You have it with you?"

She nodded. "It's in my room."

The blonde found she had to assimilate the news. It was especially confusing that she didn't even know if she wanted it back. Why wouldn't she want it back? It was hers, it was handmade by her, tailored to her. Or it was. "…Could you… hold onto it for now?" She requested.

Though evidently somewhat puzzled, she nevertheless nodded faintly.

Troubled, Yang resumed putting her mechanical limb back together. She was more unsettled with knowing this than she could've anticipated, and she didn't know which part of it was perturbing her most. Was it that something so precious to her, something she'd believed was lost forever had resurfaced? Or maybe that she didn't feel prepared to have it in her possession again? …Or was it what it implied Blake had to do to recover it? Mulling over this, she realized she finished her task before she knew it, and, as they sat in silence, Yang's gaze drifted up from her now neatly stored maintenance kit to meet the other woman's gorgeous golden. "...Thank you," she quietly said, "for getting it back."

Blake shook her head. "No need to thank me for that."

"Yeah, I do," the blonde emphatically contended, keeping her eyes locked on hers. "It couldn't have been easy," she acknowledged, and, despite her best wishes, the idea that Blake had to pry the cuff off her decaying limb was pervading her mind.

She couldn't sustain eye contact. "It was easy to find, I knew where it was," she mumbled.

"That's not what I meant."

Her cat ears flattened as if she'd been scolded. She took a deep, slightly quivering breath.

"Nothing could've stopped me from getting it back," she whispered.

Evidently not. Not the gruesomeness of what had to be done to retrieve it or having to make her way back in a warzone while haemorrhaging from a near-lethal injury.

The thought of that wound brought her attention to the sliver of bare skin on the faunus's stomach. On the night that Blake had confronted her, she hadn't been wearing the coat she had on now and her midriff had been completely exposed. Yang remembered seeing a scar.

Without a word, she very gently reached to lift the front panel of white fabric just enough to be able to see it, sensing the other woman's gaze on her. In response, Blake opened her coat to uncover it properly; it, along with her gorgeously defined abdomen. The sight of skin being bared flushed her face and back with sudden heat, and yet the glaring mark left on it constricted her heart so much it might've stopped. And it probably wasn't a good idea, but in spite of being torn apart by the conflicting sensations, Yang couldn't resist tracing it with her fingers. They were sitting so close that she still heard the nearly silent, sharp intake of breath from the other woman. It drew her gaze back to hers and, now only a few inches apart, the immediate impulse she had to throw everything out the window and kiss her was so visceral, it sent a shock through her entire body. She couldn't move anymore. It would've been so completely natural to kiss her. The magnetic pull and sparks between them were devastatingly overwhelming, and, as she observed the gleaming gold that'd always captivated her so, she at once knew the other woman was suffering the same crushing desire.

She took back her hand at once, clearing her throat uneasily. "Did it heal fine?"

Blake still openly studied her. "It's fine now."

"I see that," Yang hastily acknowledged. "Did it heal fine?" She repeated, more rigidly.

Only then did the faunus diffidently find something else to stare at. "...It took a while to heal," she confessed. "It got infected in the first month; access to medical supplies was short and the environment made it hard for me to keep it clean. And… I moved too much."

The pained expression she could feel take over her features visibly put Blake ill at ease, which might've been what prompted her to quickly continue.

"There were medical teams there, they were always ready for the volunteers who tried to clear out the Grimm," she added fretfully, maybe trying to make the situation appear less dramatic. "I was able to get it checked by a professional." As she said this last part, there was a slight drop in her voice.

And maybe it was because she knew her so well, but to Yang, her expression had darkened too. A looming feeling of dread gripped her. "But?"

Blake frowned lightly. "But?"

"You were able to get it checked, but…?" The blonde pressed, which seemed to disconcert her ex-partner. "There's something else, it's written all over your face," Yang told her, reminding her just how well she could read her.

Staring down into emptiness, she licked her lips pensively, as if she didn't seem to know if she should talk. Or maybe it was how she would approach what weighed on her that gave her such pause?

"…Blake?"

She brought her hand to her temple, slid it on her forehead and over her face before letting it drop in her lap; it looked like she gave up. "I can't have children," she ended up revealing, daring a glance at her again.

Having constantly been the one to care for others, it'd always been self-evident to Yang she'd eventually be a mother. She couldn't even fathom how she'd react herself if given that prognosis. It ripped her apart to hear it from the other woman, and she was completely at a loss as to how to respond. She wanted to crush her in an embrace, and somehow, she was scared of touching her. "I'm so sorry."

Blake crossed her arms uncomfortably, almost like she was hugging herself. "... Honestly, I'd never thought ahead far enough to know if I actually wanted any, but it's…" she trailed off, exhaling a shallow, unsteady breath and finding an interest in the ground again. "I got robbed of the option to have them at all, so it was still… something I had to grieve."

Her eyes fell on the offensive scar, and like a flash of thunder, she remembered reading that it was possible to combine two women's genetic material to impregnate one of them, it'd made headlines a few years back. She hadn't paid much attention to it then because it hadn't been relevant, but it now seemed like an invaluable lifeline. "You might still be able to have them," she tried. "I mean, the technology exists, right? For two women to have children of both of them."

"It's incredibly expensive," she noted.

"But it exists," the blonde insisted, gaining in positivity. "And it'll get better and more common and more affordable as time goes by," she added, desperately wishing for some pain to ease off her features. "For sure it'll have gotten much better by the time we're ready to have kids."

Blake looked her way again, and the way she scrutinized her like she was trying to read her mind, with ill concealed yearning and with unutterable words on her lips, made Yang realize what question might be hanging in the air.

We.

It made her realize she still saw her future with Blake, and the dismay that gripped her made her want to move away from that insight. She inhaled shakily. "... I mean… we, all of us. Ruby and Weiss and everyone too," she mumbled, though it hadn't been what she'd originally meant. "And you, you're gonna settle down with a woman right? So no matter who, that option's still there."

Her entire body seemed to shrink in defeat. "Yeah," she softly yielded in resignation. "A woman. No matter who."

The fact that Blake passively allowed the possibility of someone else unexpectedly pierced through her horrendously painfully, and at once Yang was exceedingly aware of how she'd wanted her to say that she wouldn't want to build a life with anyone else. She had wanted her to say it had to be Yang, or no one else. And she knew very well odds were that this was exactly what Blake was thinking, odds were that she simply had gone along with the rationale just so she wouldn't be pressuring Yang with rekindling their relationship, but… somehow, her entire chest cavity hurt like she'd been shot. Blake didn't assert she wanted children with her. That she wanted to build a future with her. It was hard to breathe. She didn't want Blake to fall in love with someone else, not as long as they were both alive and breathing.

How Blake had said she'd be patient and wait for her, and how it meant that she expected Yang to ultimately come around, came to mind. Faster than she'd ever imagined she could've, she was coming around. It'd only been two weeks and she was already very aware that not only her feelings had remained just as strong, but she was also on her way to throw all her fears out the window and allow Blake to destroy her again if she would.

None of it sat well with her.

Yang summoned every fiber of willpower within her body and stood. "I'm gonna get ready for bed," she shakily said.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Blake nod and stand too, evidently understanding this was her cue to leave. She might've wished her good night; Yang was too distraught to quite grasp anything happening in her surroundings.

They had grabbed the bunks in the train cabin like second nature, and Yang tried her very best not to linger on what nostalgia that set-up dredged up. As they settled in for what promised to be a long, overnight trip, everyone got cozy in their own space, getting engrossed in their individual hobbies. Or rather… Ruby and Weiss did; Blake simply stared out into the landscape of snow and ice unfurling on the other side of the window, the book she'd pulled out of her bag forgotten in her lap. She'd been very out of it ever since they'd had that conversation, and Yang had decided it'd be best to leave things as is for now. Mostly, it was also that she wouldn't really know if she would handle more than surface interaction any better herself.

Trying not to pay her too much attention, Yang rolled on her stomach to languidly flip through the pages of a mech magazine she'd gotten that morning at the train station. She'd always had somewhat of an interest, not quite as much as her sister, but between doing the maintenance of Bumblebee and conceiving Ember Celica, she'd known a fair deal even before her prosthetic was a factor that would have forced her to take interest. As such, she indifferently stopped on a page showing upcoming upgrades for prosthetics —oh, the disinterest didn't stem from what upgrades were announced, some of them were nothing short of spectacular, and she would love to get her hand on them, or rather, in her hand?- but the sheer cost of them was staggering. Who had money for these? She'd known they were expensive, but she had no idea Atlas tech cost this much. It made her wonder if her father would have been able to afford even an obsolete model had she not been gifted her prosthetic by General Ironwood.

...She didn't even want to think where she'd be at, had she been forced to keep going around relying only on her left.

"Alright girls," her sister's energetic voice interrupted. "I think it's time for an official team exercise, who wants to play video games?"

Yang felt herself smile; she made a point not to glance over to the other top bunk. "I mean if you want me to kick your butt," she casually answered, "yeah, sure." Noticing in the low corner of her eye cat ears perking as Blake leaned over to be able to meekly look at her as she started moving, Yang opted not to linger on the overt attention. She instead gave an impish look to her sister. "Let me grab my scroll."

With this, she jumped down from her bunk and went to the bag storage area. Though she'd noticed the faunus's alertness, she hadn't noticed her following suit, and was startled to find her reaching for the yellow sports bag in her stead. Almost on reflex, the blonde jerked back.

"Here, let me help you with that," Blake interjected, grabbing the bag down with both hands.

Feeling her arms drop to her side in a defeat as she watched the other woman get her bag down for her, Yang's heart sank. Her gaze dropped to the ground. She'd been very mindful of how vigilant the other woman had been, going out of her way to care for her in any way she could even since they'd been reunited. And she had elected to shrug it off every time for different reasons, reckoning it'd stop soon enough, but this… was just one too many times. It made her feel like her ex-partner wasn't seeing her as her equal anymore. Like Blake saw someone not in full possession of her means anymore, someone handicapped. And Yang had to put an end to that sort of ridiculous courtesy. Gritting her teeth and gathering herself, a resolute frown took over. "Blake," she called, getting her bag from her. "You don't have to do that."

Blake stared back at her for a second looking a bit too overly determined with the way her ears perked up. And then all at once she was interested in the ground. "I don't know what you're talking about." Yet her fingers had curled into fists.

Unimpressed and frowning a bit, the brawler was very mindful of their two teammates having taken great interest in what was happening. Cinching her bag tighter under her arm, she took a second to gather herself, sighing. "I'm fine," she asserted, really wishing for this point to come across. She was fine. Not truly back to her old self, but fine enough that she didn't need to be pampered or taken care of anyways. The tension in the other woman's body didn't ease one bit. "We're gonna be fine," Yang then added emphatically, laying her hand over her heart. She believed it. After that week in Haven, after having talked with her, after having eased into being around her again, she really did believe it. "It's just gonna be a bit before things are back to normal."

Yet Blake was still focused on the ground in defeat, maybe unconvinced that Yang truly had faith in this, maybe thinking she was instead simply saying what needed to be said. She very much realized that if the faunus might be hesitant about the genuineness of what she was expressing, it was her own fault. Because of how she'd avoided her, had behaved like Blake had been an annoyance she had to put up with. She surely made her feel unwelcomed. The profound need to attempt to convey that she was grateful she was there, no matter how she might've behaved at first, had Yang muster as much positivity as she could. "But," and the added zest in her tone did grab the faunus's attention. Yang made sure to smile at her as openly and genuinely as she could. "I am glad we're all back together."

It did look to reassure her somewhat, she timidly smiled back as she shook herself again. "Yeah," Blake agreed uneasily, her gaze dropping down again as she took a nervous exhalation. "Okay."

Any chance of settling down into a more relaxed and warmer atmosphere was squashed as the train wobbled, making it clear they would need to jump into action. It was good to let out a bit of steam, and even better to feel Blake's presence at her side as they fought off the Grimm. Weiss had been right; there wasn't any sort of readaptation needed, it was second nature to work with her. However, that fight didn't go as well as planned, and they somehow ended up saddled with an old lady and cripplingly disheartening knowledge of how doomed their struggle against Salem might be as they pushed through the storm to find a tomb of a village. It was with a dreadful atmosphere that settled over them as they realized they had no choice but to wait out the storm in this spine-chilling refuge. Had Yang not been so drained, she would've taken pride in her sister's natural leaderships skills, as Ruby tried to establish a plan of action, as well as cheer everyone up. But she barely listened. She sank back into the sofa, too sapped to even pay attention to Blake sitting next to her. Blake did grab her attention when she volunteered them to go out in the blizzard and search corpse-ridden edifices for a way to escape this hellhole. Yang wasn't too keen on moving at all, but she couldn't be bothered to argue. And someone had to do it anyways, she told herself as they walked through the blizzard together.

After looking through a few buildings, they ended up in what evidently was the main farm's mechanical shed. In a mix of heavy machinery and shelves filled with tools and trinkets, Yang was starting to feel a headache coming on. Why did Blake have to volunteer them for this? Sure, she understood that the faunus was looking for any opportunities for time with her, and all the better if alone, but this was no menial task and Yang was just so tired. She really didn't feel up to this survey mission and even less to handling the tricky navigation of their teetering attempt at going back to normal. The whole thing was even more irritating with how she couldn't for the life of her figure out what had drained her so. Maybe it was the high emotions, or having trudged through the snow while pushing her bike saddled with a passenger, but she'd previously been peachy after worse days than this one.

"Something tells me that's not street-legal," Blake quipped as they walked past some sort of hybrid tractor.

It barely registered. She didn't know why she felt so apathetic; it wasn't every day that she didn't even have energy for a chuckle. The blonde walked on. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Blake hurrying after her.

Idly overviewing the tangle of junk, tools and gizmos scattered haphazardly on the shelves as they walked, Yang couldn't help but think of the people who'd lived there. People who had their reasons to accumulate all that. "What do you think happened here?"

Their eyes caught each other's as they walked. "There's that well in the square," Blake suggested quickly looking elsewhere. "Maybe water contamination?"

"Yeah..." She droned. Hearing how flat she sounded had her brace herself, trying to shake the lethargy off. "Maybe," she agreed with a bit more zest, but just that made her head spin a bit and she took a soothing breath, bringing her hand to head.

The faunus moved a bit closer gently calling out to her. "Hey, are you okay?"

It was no surprise that she noticed Yang was feeling off. Her eyes fluttered open as she dropped her hand again. "Yeah," she repeated, and she got a bit unnerved with herself. "I mean!...No," she conceded, staring down at her boots. "But…" She shrugged, trailing off, chancing a look up at Blake again. The concern on her features somewhat stirred Yang from the sort of brooding mood that'd been taking over her and she quickly tried to shake herself back to normal. "I don't know..." she muttered, closing her eyes with a sigh. "I'm just tired."

Blake didn't look convinced. "Yeah," she reluctantly rejoined.

She could feel the faunus's eyes on her, motionlessly standing at a careful distance as Yang walked further, passing a few more shelves. Coming across a tractor trailer, the memory of having hooked one similar to it to Bumblebee to transport some construction materials for her father crossed her mind. "Hey! I found something," she exclaimed as she stepped toward it, hands on hips. It was a passing glance out the window that had her notice him unsheathing his red blade. She instinctively recoiled with a gasp.

In a second, Blake was at her side. "What is it!?"

Wide eyes fixated on the snow outside, it was hard to find her voice. "I..." she trailed off, at a loss. She'd hallucinated again, she realized. With another sigh, she looked to something else, anything else. "I was just seeing things," she divulged, narrowing her eyes as embarrassment washed over her. "I'm sorry. I still get flashes from that night," she admitted, bringing up her trembling hand to massage it with her artificial one. Only with that bit of reassurance from a quirk she'd picked up despite herself was she able to gather herself enough to turn to Blake, still holding her hand. "Do you think Adam is still out there?"

Blake looked horrendously guilty and grief-stricken, but she didn't apologize this time. Instead, she avoided her eyes, shaking her head. "I don't know. If he went back to the White Fang there would've been serious consequences," she explained, chancing a quick glance at Yang, maybe to gauge her reception to discussing him. They hadn't done that since that evening in their dorm room, before everything had gone to hell. The same evening that he became an indelible part of Yang's story too. Blake opted to continue. "But he never really liked people telling him what to do," she allowed on a sardonic tone.

And she was the one who asked, but it still made her feel sick. She opted to turn away.

"Adam's strong," Blake nevertheless continued, her voice wavering, "but his real power comes from control." With this, she carefully drew closer, her demeanor somewhat timid and dejected. "He used to get in my head, make me feel small," she quietly revealed, "but now I see he just wanted to pull me down to his size."

As she related this last bit, Blake seemed to gain in confidence, her ears having gone up in earnest strength of purpose, like she'd somewhat separated herself from that chapter of her life. Yang didn't quite know how to answer. She zoned out, staring at her prosthetic arm, wondering if she'd also make her way to a place where she could separate herself from the trauma. Seeing Blake's fingers wrap themselves around her mechanical hand shook her out of it.

"Hey..." she voiced with a tender smile, fully conquering the blonde's attention. The golden of her eyes shone with immeasurable fondness and care, and Yang was rapt with it. "I'm not leaving," Blake asserted, focusing with resolve at the prosthetic hand between her own. "And if we ever see him again, I promise I'll be there."

It melted her, and Yang couldn't help the grossly sentimental smile that spread on her lips. She was tired of keeping her at bay, and she thought, maybe for now she could put her doubts aside. Because she wanted to be able to believe in this moment, in its truth and its intimacy.

"And I'll protect you."

If she'd felt like she was melting a second ago, now it was like she completely dissolved. It was with a cold, pervasively prickling sensation that realization washed over her. Blake saw a cripple; someone she needed to protect. Was it because she saw her as disabled and so in need of help that she'd done things like get her bag for her or open doors for her? So it wasn't out of an overly motivated attempt to be nice to her as she tried to quell the tension between them?

It left a lump in her throat that made it difficult to even utter her disbelieving: "...What?"

Evidently alarmed with Yang's visibly aggrieved shock, Blake could only echo her own, "What?"

She narrowed her eyes in discontentment and reproach, abruptly pulling her hand from her touch. "Forget it," she dryly snapped as she walked off. If Blake didn't find anything wrong with what she said, Yang didn't have it in her to explain it without having a meltdown. Which she was too worn out for anyways. "Let's just head back."

"But what about—"

"We're fine!" She cut in. "We can hook that tow dolly to bumblebee in the morning. Should carry everyone," she added between clenched teeth, in a hurry to go back to the group. To not be alone with her anymore. "Mission accomplished," she muttered to herself as she grabbed the heavy wooden door of the shed.

Bringing back the news of their findings, all that was left was waiting out the storm while keeping a vigilant eye for whatever might be out there – whatever might come for them like it had for all the poor souls who had built this settlement.

Yang spent the rest of the evening making a point of not acknowledging her ex-partner, who in turn would openly stare at her. It seemed everyone was too dazed to bother asking questions, and they all ate in silence the canned food that Ruby and Weiss had found. When the time to sleep came, the brawler called dibs on sharing with her sister, which not even Weiss questioned. They might've figured things hadn't progressed much between her and her ex-lover instead of suspecting they had in fact regressed. The rest of the stay from then on only went from bad to worse, and the listlessness made them more and more dispassionate and lethargic until things almost ended up in catastrophe. It was sheer luck that Ruby's latent power flickered and nothing short of a godsend that Maria somehow knew how to guide her through a real shot at using it.

As they'd found the rest of their group in Argus, as she heard Ruby reassure Jaune, reminding him she had promised him they would all reunite, Yang opted not to breathe a word of how close of a call that had been.

Her eyes followed the svelte silhouette of the dark-haired faunus, her heart constricting in her chest. Blake had been seconds from death. And the apathy had had such a hold on Yang that she hadn't even been able to try standing up to do something about it. They'd been infinitely lucky that Ruby had it in her blood to resist the Grimm and was able to crawl to Blake, that she was able feel the fear of impending doom that drew her arcane silver to manifest. No one else had been able to muster even a hint of distress. Yang couldn't fathom how, even for a fraction of a second, she might have been capable of not caring about Blake's fate, and the last weeks came to mind in a torrent of emotions. The sheer amazement and happiness as she laid eyes on her again. The apprehension and anxiety that came with the entire weight of what her return meant given their history. The anger and hurt that'd surged as Blake had confronted her. The dismay and shock at how overwhelming her instincts to bridge the gap, to blindly trust her again in spite of what an excruciating lesson her absence had been. And above all... the sheer terror at the moment when the Apathy's hold had been broken, as she realized Blake had been seconds away from death. In that moment of horror, thinking she was about to lose her, all the complex feelings she'd had over the last year of separation and over these few weeks of reunion had seemed so irrelevant.

She thought again of how Jaune, of all people, had scolded her. Blake is here; be grateful.

… She was so immensely grateful.

With that humbling sentiment seeping through to her very bones, her stomach knotted itself as they were introduced to Jaune's sister and her family. It was a good knot, the kind that hope might engender, because she was being mirrored the best future she could imagine. Playing with Adrian was an acute reminder of just how much she loved kids, of just how much she wanted her own someday. She could feel the faunus observing her, and she knew that conversation they had before leaving Argus was also weighing on her mind. And this made Yang want to reaffirm what she had let slip that evening, what she'd awkwardly tried to make an excuse for. She wanted to tell her that she lied, that she truly had meant the 'we' she had used as the two of them. Because she did want a family with Blake. And the urgent need to do something about the rift she created when she'd torn her hand from her touch in that shed, during that blizzard, was what had her look for opportunities to be alone with her, so they might be able to talk a bit more.

She'd almost hoped she could grab her for a couple of minutes before bed time, before they'd have to make their way to the military base in the morning, but they were still drained from their misadventure with the Apathy and everyone was in bed before she could muster an excuse to take Blake to the side. There wasn't much space to pull her to the side anyways, bar going outside. The Cotta-Arc, house was impressively large, but with ten of them to accommodate, all the rooms were shared and even the living room was a temporary sleeping quarters. Given how she'd asserted her preference to share with her sister on the previous night, she was pretty much swept into sharing with her again. She didn't mind it per se, but… she didn't feel she could excuse herself and get Blake without Ruby being nosy about it. This meant it was only the next day, after the argument that exploded about what had been revealed about Ozpin, that she had an opportunity to get some time alone with her. She took the initiative to pair up with Blake as they went out to look for Oscar, surprising even the concerned party with that endeavor.

As they walked around the city, Blake was excessively cautious with keeping distance between them, with what she said to her and even with looking at her. Yang caught her staring a few times; Blake would instantly avert her eyes to look somewhere else, anywhere else. And Yang knew she had to say something, she'd known she had to say something since the Apathy's spell had been broken, but she still didn't really know what to say. All she knew was that she yearned to close the gap between them again, she wanted all the cloudiness and strain and awkwardness to be magically gone. She dearly missed the days when they'd lounge around and playfully chat and flirt for hours on end, unknowingly letting love flourish freely and still unaware of all that was to come. Those days had been the happiest Yang had been in her entire life. Sure, it was all before she realized she was in love, though she'd already been very much there. And she knew that if she missed those days the most, it was only because as she started becoming aware of her attraction to her, she'd also been so lost, confused and truly scared to mess it up. There had been some level of stress that couldn't be discounted. It was likely that, had they had more time, had Yang been able to tell her she was in love with her and had the anxiety and turmoil cleared, then those would've been the happiest of her life. She missed being spontaneously goofy and insouciantly laid-back with her. She missed the comfortable silences and silly banter. She missed… touching her and smelling her and… drowning in her. She missed her. Profoundly.

She didn't know how to make it better at all, but she reached a point where she couldn't take the silence anymore. "Hey," Yang softly called.

The way her ears, her whole posture perked up was stupidly adorable. "Yeah?"

It was a second in which she really had no idea how to start a casual conversation. "Can we be more… normal?" she ended up asking. Though she didn't quite know if either of them could define what their 'normal' would encompass. For sure, the playfulness and camaraderie had once been it, but… it wasn't quite right to settle with only this. Because normal for them hadn't been only this, it was also the intimacy and unity. Yang gave her a pensive half-smile. "I still feel like you're walking on eggshells," she added. That was as good of a starting point as any other.

Blake's gaze dropped down. "I'm just afraid of doing the wrong thing," she explained, and it was no wonder. No one would want to get spurned again as she had been the last time they'd shared a private moment.

"That's the one worst thing you could do though," Yang still contended – and it was true; between her being unnatural and her saying something awry, Yang preferred the later. "Don't worry about acting the 'right' or 'wrong' way, just be… you," she suggested, but Blake didn't look convinced that it was a good idea, so she continued. "Even back then, when you were brooding so much… it was because you weren't trying to be someone else that I still… wanted to be with you so much."

The faunus examined the tips of her boots, or maybe the cobblestones of the paved road, she then raised her eyes to carefully observe her. "What would come naturally to me right now is trying to be as close as possible to you," she said, almost as a disclaimer. "Can I touch you…? Would you be okay with that?"

That she ever made her feel this unwelcome strained her heart. "You think I wouldn't be?"

She shrugged lightly. "Ever since we've reunited you… you don't touch me like before, Yang," she quietly said, evidently opting not to bring up what had happened over at the farm. "And I don't mean— …like that. I mean, like when we were just friends."

There indeed had been a time when she'd take the liberty to wrap her arm around her, or comb her luscious black hair with her fingers, or lay her head against her, all of it very innocuously. But these days, it was almost like there was a glass wall between them, and she absolutely understood why the other woman might feel like reaching out to her might be trespassing. "You can do what you feel like," Yang mumbled.

"And you don't mind?"

"I didn't mind when you took my hand in the shed," she reminded her. She knew Blake understood that part had been fine. It was what she'd said that had shattered the moment. "I liked that you took my hand… it was comforting." And overdue, but Yang opted to leave that part out.

Blake's eyes fell on her prosthesis and a small, puzzled frown took over. "You can feel with it...? I wasn't sure if you could."

With a nod, she raised it between the two of them. "There are pressure sensors on the inside, on the palm and fingers. I need them for feedback, to know how much force to use when I'm touching things," she explained. "I don't feel sensations like hot, cold, pain, softness, textures, wetness... but I could feel your hand. Not like before, but I feel that it's there."

With this, she extended her palm towards her and, after a short hesitation, Blake delicately rested her hand in it.

"I feel it," Yang reassuringly murmured.

As Blake raised a demure gaze to her, she looked so fragile. Yang wanted nothing more than to squeeze her against herself. Her old instincts were brutally spearing through the armor she'd thought she'd built to protect herself. It was so completely disarming that she would be so keen to dismiss how tortured she'd been by her absence over the last year and heedlessly allow what had once been to take ahold of her again.

Risking losing her for good truly had done its part to wash away most of what tarnished her feelings and generate urgency to mend their bond. And now, like vibrantly colored flowers piercing through the snow, all that was so beautiful that Blake had once made her feel was inexorably blooming in her again. For the first time in a long time, she felt it unclouded by pain and resentment – unadulterated, unclouded, weightless and bright love.

She curled her mechanical fingers around her hand and her voice escaped her like the words had their own will. "I miss you," she murmured.

Blake's grip on her prosthetic tightened. "I miss you too," she answered, her voice strained.

The hand in her own was trembling almost imperceptibly, making Yang acutely aware of just how much the faunus might have been struggling with the imposed distance. Her heart throbbed and the blonde took a small step closer. "I know I'm the one who asked for some space, but it feels too weird. I don't like it," she confessed quietly. "It doesn't feel natural. Not after who we've been to each other."

The golden orbs earnestly searched her own, as if she could read in them the answers she was looking for. "...Who were we to each other?"

The million-lien question. Who had they been to each other? Yang knew what they hadn't been. But she also knew what they would've been had they been granted a little more time. At this point in time, no single word seemed to be perfectly fitting, and there probably wasn't any way she could put it without making vast assumptions. But there was one thing she knew for sure. "We were much more than I was ready to acknowledge back then," she murmured.

That answer seemed enough, or, at least, Blake knew exactly what Yang meant by this. "...We were, weren't we," she painfully concurred.

It was a bit too demanding to sustain eye contact and Yang found interest in the hand still in hers. Blake's left hand. Idly, the mechanical thumb traced over her ring finger. Maybe one day they'd get there? "...You think it would've changed anything if I had acknowledged it?" She found herself asking. "You think if I'd… said something, it might've made a more solid… anchor? For you to stay?"

Her gaze dropped such that Yang could barely see her eyelashes through her bangs, the slivers of the golden color still glimmering through. "It probably wouldn't have changed anything," she conceded. "What was said or unsaid… even how you feel about me… it doesn't change my feelings. Even if you'd never seen me as more than a friend, it wouldn't have made me love you any less," Blake explained. She took a second to swallow the lump in her throat, trying to maintain her composure. "So whether you'd committed to me or not… it wouldn't have changed anything. How we felt, what we shared or… what words were said, all that, it has nothing to do with why I left." The pressure of her hand curled around Yang's increased, like she was afraid that talking about it would make Yang pull away. "I only left because of the destruction I felt I brought to those around me, because of my own horrid idea of myself."

She rested her other hand over Blake's, trying to convey that it was fine, that they could talk about it. "...So... is it better now?"

She raised her head again to properly meet her gaze. "What is?"

"Your perception of yourself."

"... It's not perfect, but I've made a lot of progress," Blake encouragingly offered, managing an unassuming but genuine smile.

Her smile was so beautiful, Yang couldn't help thinking it was such a shame she didn't smile more often. And she remembered having always thought that, and how she had, so long ago, resolved to do her best to make that smile come out as much as she could. "I always thought you were the best," she absentmindedly commented.

The smile waned a bit as her expression transitioned to somewhat pensive. "...That always boggled my mind," she answered, and, as if waking up from old self-deprecating habits, something more resolved took hold of her. "But, I hope… what you saw in me back then, or what I used to bring you that you'd been looking for... I hope from the bottom of my heart that you can find it in me again."

"Find it again?" Yang repeated disconcertedly. "I know why I fell in love with you, I never lost sight of that."

It was evidently a revelation to her because what dawned on her features, the incredulity and relief, the timidly restrained hope and the ill-contained joy, it all made the blonde's chest suffocatingly tight. Did Blake truly believe they might have been done? Had Yang been so cold to her that she might have believed it was over… and still strived so hard for them? Understanding that gave her another nudge to do her own part to bridge the gap.

"It hurt when you left, Blake… but it didn't erase what I know you have in you—what it inspires in me or… or what feelings I might… have," she explained softly. "I guess I… I've been too wrapped up in how to deal with the pain to…" she held her breath, shaking her head. After she'd talked with Jaune, she'd made a conscious effort to try and bond again, to be grateful that she was back, that Blake was with them, but the gratefulness she'd tried to force through the awkwardness then... it wasn't deeply felt like now. Back then, it was still swarming in uncertainty and fear and the need to shield herself. Now, having nearly lost her, she couldn't care less about all that. She was so deeply grateful. "But after we got out of the tunnels, and we could feel again, I… I- I realized, really realized that… it was probably seconds and you'd have...—all I know is that I never want to lose you," she whispered, "that's as clear as could be."

At this, Blake stepped closer. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmured.

The proximity made the blonde's heart rate skyrocket, but she didn't shy away from it. The other woman leaned her forehead to her shoulder, and the very small space left between their bodies begged to be conquered, and yet they both became incredibly still. The familiar scent of Blake's hair invaded every fiber of Yang's being and she tilted her head down closer to breathe it better. She never imagined she'd ever feel this right again.

What shook her out of the moment was two very familiar voices hushedly arguing not too far from them. Swiping their surroundings with her eyes had them quickly stop on the pale figure in soft blue hues and the so familiar red cloak down the block. Ruby and Weiss were frozen in place gripping each other like they'd been fighting.

"What are you two doing?" she called, putting a more conservative distance between Blake and her before they both headed down the street to join the second half of their team.

Ruby straightened up. "Just—"

Weiss had elbowed her side, knocking the breath out of her. "Nothing."

It wasn't too hard to fill in the gaps. They'd noticed Blake and she were having a moment and were probably trying to get a better eavesdrop. Yang sighed. "Still no signs of Oscar?"

They both shook their heads in unison.

Deciding not to linger on it –lingering on it might mean briefing their teammates on the progress Blake and she had made, and that would be its own adventure— Yang signaled for them to start making their way back. She hadn't noticed when Maria had joined them, but as they started walking, she engaged Blake in conversation, which left the brawler walking alone between two pairs. All her attention was on the midnight-colored hair as it swayed lightly as she walked, as the cold wind blew it a little more strongly, or on the elegant sound of her heeled boots as they struck the paved road. That was until she noticed some muttering behind her.

"You ruined it," she heard Weiss hiss.

"Did not!" Ruby argued in a harsh whisper.

"Clearly, we interrupted," her partner pointed out.

"You're the one who wanted to see better," she sounded offended.

"You were as curious as I was!" Weiss scoffed. "And you're the one who draws the eye with that tattered red thing!"

"I can hear you," Yang indicated, still walking. She glanced back at them. "Don't spy on us."

"It wasn't spying, you were out on the street in the open," Ruby countered.

Weiss nodded. "If that was meant to be private, you should talk behind closed doors," she added, backing her partner now that it was convenient.

Yang rolled her eyes, deciding not to argue. It seemed the pair was done bickering anyways. As the house came into view, all conversation quickly died as they all noticed the very immobile Qrow lying on the stairs, and though Oscar turned out to be back safe and sound, the reunion quickly toppled into a commotion. It didn't turn out to be too much of a drawback, as it did allow Ruby to take the reigns and they were able to devise a plan of action to attempt a heist on the following day. It was pretty late into the night that most of them retired to their quarters to go to bed— Ruby stayed behind for a while, promising to only be a few minutes, which… Yang thought, maybe she could take that opportunity to finish her conversation with Blake, but then again, she didn't think that only a few minutes would be enough to finish. Ruby would interrupt them as she'd come to bed, and so Yang opted to push back the second half of their chat to another time and got herself to bed.

She was already dozing off when Ruby finally joined her, and hearing the door open and shut stirred her from her near-sleep daze. Though at the back of her mind she wondered what took her sister so long, Yang didn't budge, trying to drift back to sleep. It was a small grunt that had her eyes snap open, because it wasn't her sister's voice. She watched instead the dark-haired faunus pull her second thigh high boot off her long legs. Blake, facing away from her, then pulled her top above her head and undid her bra.

Compelled to interrupt what was happening, Yang spoke up. "What are you doing?"

Quickly crossing her arms over her chest, she half-turned just enough to glance at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you— I… I thought you were sleeping."

"I wasn't asleep yet," she stated, though that was obvious enough. It was a small pause and she sat up, pushing off the bed covers. "…What are you doing?"

"...Ruby and Weiss were adamant that I should share with you," she awkwardly explained. "They really insisted."

Of course they did. Yang's eyes drifted to her silhouette. Her silky jet black hair tumbling on her shoulders, around her delicate frame, contrasted the completely exposed porcelain skin of her upper body.

Blake didn't seem perturbed by her gaze, though she nevertheless modestly covered herself. "Does it bother you that I was changing here?"

"…It's fine," Yang offered.

Blake still didn't resume changing into her pajamas. She stayed immobile, standing a couple of feet away from the bed, shielding her chest much too well to the blonde's taste. "Is it okay that I share your bed…?"

"...Yeah." Her gaze was fixated on her arms, as if not blinking would somehow allow her to see through them. She wasn't happy with herself, but she fervently wished she could see.

An air of recognition took over her features and, slowly, the faunus turned to face her. "No need to hope I read your mind, Yang," Blake softly said as she unfolded her arms, allowing her naked torso to be completely exposed. "All you have to do is ask."

Her ex-lover clad in nothing but tight, low-cut black jeans was a devastatingly alluring vision, and Yang had no voice to answer. The perfect shape of her breasts, full yet so pert, remained as impressive as the first time she'd seen her, and, along with her tiny waist and womanly hips, the portrait was the most exquisite hourglass figure there was. As gorgeous as she remembered her being, Yang's memory still hadn't done Blake's form justice, which left her awed to stillness. Visceral impulses clawed their way to the surface with vividly clear memories of how she'd pull her naked form into her arms, against herself and with it the feeling of her velvety skin and svelte frame, of how she'd unreservedly grip at every inch of her flesh, or greedily suck on her breasts and how Blake's arms around her shoulders, her hands in her hair used to feel. The breath she exhaled was short and vacillating.

When she finally tore her gaze from her bare skin to again meet scorching pits of ignited golden, it was to notice how they'd been riveted to her features. It was no question they'd witnessed how fascinatedly she'd stared, and in a flash, Yang's face seared so hotly with embarrassment that she felt lightheaded for a second.

Blake remained unwaveringly focused on her, vigilantly assessing… what? Assessing her? Or the situation, maybe? …Or maybe what was supposed to happen next?

The blonde's gaze dropped again and, doing everything she could to not ogle her chest, she focused on the belt buckle. And, as if she'd thought this was another silent request, Blake's hands inched on her stomach to find her white belt. She slowly unbuckled it before she unzipped her pants even slower.

"Wait." Her choked voice was almost inaudible.

Blake nevertheless heard her and halted, leaving her bottoms alone. They stared at each other for a few seconds as the faunus seemed to reassess. "Would you rather I finish changing somewhere else?"

Violet orbs followed up to the exposed skin again. She couldn't stop looking at her body. She knew how openly she was staring, and she knew how undeniably voracious her gaze was, and there was no doubt Blake could see it, and she still couldn't stop herself. And she couldn't muster words or sounds for that matter.

By then, the faunus looked somewhat puzzled, evidently trying to gauge what Yang wanted, even though Yang herself didn't quite know what she wanted. Still, earnestly trying to be helpful, Blake tried again. "Or was it that you changed your mind about this? …Should I leave and send back Ruby instead?"

"No, stay," she quickly answered. "I want to sleep with you."

Only after they'd left her lips did she come aware of what words she spoke, and Blake's gaze remained fixed on her.

Yang felt her face flush with disconcertment, feeling much too exposed. "…I mean— I didn't mean— …Not like that. Just. Actually sleeping, I don't want anything else."

She again allowed a silence, but how she didn't shy away from observing her made it clear it wasn't out of any sort of awkwardness. "You're a bad liar," Blake eventually commented.

If Yang thought she couldn't have been more mortified before; she'd just been proven wrong. Her entire body might have been glowing with embarrassment. And she wanted so bad to tell her it was wrong, and they should just get to bed already and sleep so they could be refreshed for the morning heist they'd need to pull. And maybe Yang would snuggle her just a bit to sleep better.

"Yang?" She called, much more gently.

"... It's not what I meant," she still maintained, her voice strained.

Blake nodded. "Maybe not," she conceded, "but that doesn't make it any less true, does it?"

Yang had no answer. What was she to do? Lie again? Like Blake wouldn't see right through it again? She might not have meant to say what she did, and she did mean it without ulterior motives, but… seeing her like that…

For the first time since she'd woken up to missing pieces of herself, she was feeling this hunger again. Hunger for touch, for intimacy and… hunger to forget everything but how good her body could feel. Above all, how sublime she knew Blake could make her feel. She'd forgotten what it was to desire. She'd forgotten… just now visceral and profound the longing she'd had for her had been.

Blake evidently hadn't expected her to muster any pretext either; the knowing air in her gleaming eyes told of how she indisputably understood not only what had been sparked inside of Yang, but also how the blonde would indubitably be unable to disavow that truth. Her steps were completely silent as she made her way to her through the darkness, and it was without a word that she cautiously sat on the edge of the bed. She stayed immobile for a few seconds, maybe leaving her the chance to desist and put an end to what might happen. And how was Yang expected not to succumb to her? She could barely manage something as basic as breathing properly, how was she expected to rationalize what was the best course of action now?

Seeing that Yang didn't attempt to deter her, Blake, with a smooth fluidity that was so characteristically feline, sunk to her knees and carefully started towards her on all fours. Transfixed, so completely spellbound, Yang docilely lay back down to allow her free advance over her. Some part of her screamed to ask what the hell she thought she was doing, but… it was very obvious what Blake was doing. And asking might put a halt to it. And…Yang wasn't sure she wanted her to stop.

Blake's hand pressed into the pillow next to her head, as she found herself over her, her midnight curls around them like a curtain of darkness. Blake's piercing gaze hovering above Yang was lost in hers, evidently gauging the situation, maybe waiting to see if Yang would reject her advance, or maybe… waiting to see if Yang would do her part to close the gap. The few seconds of stillness felt tense and heavy, suffocating. Blake's presence permeated everything, the air, the entire room, to the extent that the world was reduced to nothing but her; her, the engulfing darkness of the night and her gorgeous golden piercing through it.

So completely hypnotized by her gaze, the blonde hadn't noticed her moving until she felt the other woman's hand on her cheek. Her thumb idly drifted across her skin in a caress as Blake contemplated her. The darkness of the night shrouding them felt alive with Blake's being and Yang was wholly inundated by her presence. All of her instincts were saturated and she felt so overwhelmed that, though her mind was racing at a million miles an hour, she was nonetheless left paralyzed.

Was Blake about to kiss her?

...Should she let Blake kiss her?

This was all still going too fast wasn't it? It had barely been three weeks since they reunited! She wasn't ready! There was still so much to talk about before they could start over—and Blake had said they should do it right this time! How would rushing into this be doing it right? She hadn't even had time to broach with Blake how her maiming had changed her perception of herself! If what she'd said about protecting her meant she really was reduced to an invalidin her eyes… How was that still attractive?! And they'd barely just alluded to the gap they'd left in each other's lives when they'd been looking for Oscar, they weren't done with that conversation at all, they had only acknowledged they both wanted to go forward, they really hadn't talked at all about how to go about trying to fix it! This was way too fast; she hadn't prepared herself – she wasn't even shaved down th— … What a stupid thought. But she felt at her worst, and Blake—

Blake so slowly bent closer, and time suddenly started back up again. Instead of pressing her mouth to hers, she laid a lingering kiss on her cheek. Blake's lips were criminally soft and burning hot, and her heavy breath betrayed her true desires. Yet she didn't dare further, electing to simply set herself down, nestling her head in the crook of Yang's neck as she laid over her.

The tension didn't drop.

Yang realized she wished she'd kissed her. They certainly weren't ready to plunge into this again, but it didn't make either of them want it any less. The heat of her body was staggeringly alluring, and with every exhalation warming her neckline, warmth spread through her like wildfire. Yang's heart attempted to rupture out of her ribcage, and she knew Blake most certainly felt it against her chest. Her very naked chest. The only thing separating naked skin contact was the thin orange tank she wore as pajamas. And Yang's quivering fingers wove through her silky black curls to find the skin of her lower back. Had she consciously wanted to do so? It was like her body was possessed– like from the moment she surrendered to Blake's advance was also the moment she'd relinquished any sort of brain function. Which might explain how her hand pressed on Blake's back gently, bringing their bodies just a little closer together.

Blake gave a low, pleased hum. With her head resting in the crook of her neck, her mouth brushed her skin and she brought her hand to rest on Yang's shoulder, huddling closer, quite obviously prompted by the way she'd been incited to. Blake's leg slid over Yang's thigh as she settled properly over her, entwining their bodies with telltale intimacy, and Yang was subjugated with how sensual the shape of her was as she shifted against her. Yang could feel her own breathing grow heavier and somehow she tilted her head just a tad to let her lips brush against a cat ear. It was feather soft and feverishly hot and the contact prompted a short, sharp inhale from Blake, who, in response, brazenly pressed her mouth to her neck to suck gently. Yang surprised herself with a weak moan, which only seemed to set the other woman on fire as she fiercely pressed her entire body closer. Yang realized Blake's hand was inching on her neckline, on the skin her tank top left exposed, and she waited completely on edge, to see if she would dare further.

Time stood still and her heart wanted to tear out of her chest, and finally... she felt her touch carefully outline a rock-hard nipple through the orange fabric. The unsteady exhalations that burned the blonde's skin as she languidly kissed her neck had fire spread through her, coursing through her veins and storming her core. Blake rolled Yang's nipple under her thumb as she fully took hold of her breast and Yang found herself completely paralyzed. Her hand, still on Blake's lower back, was rigidly holding her against herself, incapable of either taking the leap and returning her caresses, or letting go and turning her away. No matter how unprepared she was for intimacy, the chemistry between them rendered her utterly powerless to even think of stopping her. Blake seemed wholly inflamed as she avidly devoured her skin, as she caressed her breast, as she fumbled to hurriedly pull up Yang's orange tank top to expose them. Before she knew it, Yang was graced with the incredibly soft feeling of Blake's chest against her own; the tender warmth of skin against skin as she pressed against her, everywhere against her, might've been called a religious experience and Yang felt like she was losing herself in the overwhelmingly engulfing blaze that was thoroughly consuming them.

Blake's wandering hands moved down her midriff, and Blake lustfully purred as she outlined the definition of her stomach, quickly continuing down to trace the edge of the black pajama shorts. All Yang could think of was how utterly subjugating it felt when those fingers would penetrate her, and she shamefully avidly waited to see if the other woman intended to push her luck.

Blake's thumb and index dug slightly underneath the elastic band of her pajama bottoms, but her hand came to a complete halt. Her nose brushed against her ear as she shakily breathed her request. "Yang...? ...Is it okay?"

It probably wasn't. They shouldn't be having sex. Yang couldn't even understand how she was this aroused. She hadn't felt anything of the sort since… … well, since the last time she'd been with Blake in their dorm room. She hadn't felt lust at all since she'd been injured, such that she hadn't even felt any sort of need to touch herself; her libido had simply been nonexistent. The way she'd gone from that to… mind, body, heart and soul howling for anything from Blake was debilitating.

Still, Blake waited for an answer, and Yang found herself giving an almost imperceptible nod. Her hand slid underneath the fabric as soon as she received permission and her fingers stretched down her pelvis into the hair, making a point of unabashedly lingering, either to show her she didn't care that Yang wasn't shaved or maybe intending to build up even more anticipation. When Blake did reach between her legs, just a gentle touch was enough to elicit a faint spasm coursing through her, and Yang's arm around her searched her back like she needed to find a handhold.

The faunus gently nibbled at Yang's ear, and her long fingers shamelessly kneaded her, coating themselves with her wetness. She slowly massaged in a circular motion, and Yang felt herself start to follow along subtly, like she had no control over her own body. Her touch teased her opening, slowly circling it before Blake pushed her fingers inside her, spurring an abrupt thrust of her hips to meet her hand. It felt outrageously good, making her completely forget about what reservations might have remained. The movements of the other woman's body over hers were threatening to make her go mad and, feeling her breath burn the skin of her neck, Yang pressed her nose to the head of dark hair, wondering if her own scent had even an ounce of the effect Blake's had on her.

Her fingers slickly, noisily slid in and out, and Yang moaned louder than she would've wanted, her legs opening wider. Her head was spinning, she was losing grip on her surroundings, and she was most definitely forgetting herself as she instinctively tilted her head to brush her lips to Blake's. Without hesitation, Blake took what Yang wasn't even sure she'd meant as an invitation and kissed her. She kissed her like Yang didn't know it was possible to be kissed. Her kiss was a language in its own right, unambiguously conveying an unwavering promise of devotion, of self-surrender and pure adoration, and Yang suddenly had the feeling there were a million things they needed to tell each other—or maybe just three words, and her head was spinning such that this all felt like an out of body experience. But Blake was kissing her and Yang didn't know if she wanted to break down and cry or call her name and beg her for release. Blake's delicate lips, her breath that Yang now breathed, it all intoxicated her more and more as passion unquestionably was taking over the tenderness of her kiss. Yang gasped against her lips. She'd forgotten how utterly intoxicating Blake's kiss was and she readily kissed her back, reaching to cup her face in her hands—

Hand.

One hand.

The spell shattered; she was abruptly aware of how what remained of her other arm rested against Blake's side, its ugly scarred skin an affront to the delicate one it was brushing against, and sudden revulsion with it gripped Yang to her core. "No, Blake, stop," she muttered uneasily, trying to break from the kiss.

Blake didn't back an inch."...Wha...?" she let out, mouth still on hers. "Did I hurt you?" Her nose brushed her cheek and she seemed to be searching for her kiss still like Yang was… actually desirable.

Which she wasn't.

Yang willed herself to turn her head, tearing from her inebriating lips. "I'm fine," she strained. And the temptation was utter torture, but the repugnance of her own body, of how unattractive she felt and how this, she told herself, might be nothing more than nostalgia unremittingly took precedence and the blonde gave an awkward nod. "You can stop now," she anxiously mumbled, growing more and more uncomfortable.

"Stop.. ?" Blake repeated again, evidently blurred with the mood she'd been in and muddled with the turn of events. "But you didn't cum, you're—"

"I said stop," Yang cut in brusquely, giving a push on her shoulder to force her back an inch.

It abruptly shook Blake into alert and she immediately complied, also moving herself off her. The blonde shot upright to a sitting position, pulling her orange tank down again to cover her chest and awkwardly rearranged the fabric before she pushed away golden bangs stuck to her face in sweat. Sweat also rolled down her back slowly, making her keenly aware of the state her body was in. She'd been so wrapped up in what had been happening, she hadn't even realized she'd gotten this hot. She was unbelievably turned on. Which might be why the other woman's silhouette out of the corner of her eye magnetically drew her gaze the way it did. Blake was immobile to the point it didn't even look like she breathed, visibly a bit panic-stricken, very much at a loss with the sudden shift in mood.

A crushing silence reigned with neither of them knowing how to handle what had gone down until Yang willed herself to speak. "I can't do this," she quickly said, her voice audibly strained.

Blake was paling by the second, it almost looked like she was going to throw up. "I'm sorry, I-I thought…. I thought you nodded when I asked you if I could," she shakily spluttered. "I never meant to overstep—I really thought you signaled I could touch you...!"

She reviled the idea of letting her think she'd violated her boundaries, especially since she in fact had given consent. Yang shook her head faintly. "That's not it," she said, "I-I did… nod. I gave you the go ahead, you didn't…" she trailed off with an exhalation, doing her best to get a grip. "You didn't do anything wrong," she then added more steadily, still eyeing her out of the corner of her eye. What relief had visibly washed over Blake was indescribable. Yang awkwardly tugged on the fabric of her orange top, unsticking it from her sweaty skin in a sort of nervous motion. "I just… I… It's no use, I'm not letting myself go," she uneasily justified, trying to rationalize her abrupt stop. "I can't get out of my head. I just won't get there."

Blake, kneeling next to her, leaned a little closer again. "We don't need to stop just because you don't think you'll be able to cum," she offered, "It'll still feel good, and maybe you'll relax more than you anticipate, so—"

"I'm telling you I don't want to do it, okay?!" She interrupted again.

The faunus recoiled like she'd been burned. "Sorry," she swiftly blurted. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to sound pushy—or push you into anything either."

Yang hated herself for making Blake scramble this way and she turned to her. "No, no, it's fine, don't worry about it," she urged, much more gently.

"Of course I'm going to worry about it," Blake countered. "You made it clear you didn't want to. It doesn't matter your reasons, I still have no place arguing with that," she insisted, her cat ears so low that, in the darkness of the room, they almost blended perfectly with her hair. "I'm sorry," she murmured again.

It was heartrending how pitiful she looked, and Yang wanted to hold her, but… her gaze lingered on Blake's still reddened lips or damp skin or disheveled dark hair or erect nipples… and she didn't trust herself not to pull something even more confusing for both of them. She dropped her gaze to the bedsheets instead.

"I didn't plan on any of this when I… when I let myself be convinced by Ruby and Weiss," Blake then explained, her voice more and more miserable. "And then, with the way you were looking at me, I thought you wanted me to—"

"No," she didn't want to hear it. Because Blake thought she wanted to? It made her think back on all the things Blake had been doing, going out of her way for her, being fussy, extra-attentive and overly considerate. So, what? Had this been nothing but one of those things Blake was doing as an apology? "Don't do that, don't be like that," Yang protested.

"What do you mean 'like that'?"

"I mean—I mean…" she trailed off, taking a second to attempt to make her request coherent, because neither 'I'm not a useless victim you need to fuss about' nor 'I don't want a slave' sounded like things she wanted to blurt out. "I told you I don't want you to do things because you think that's what I want, I'm— I-I… I just want things to be normal," she ambiguously tried.

Blake was making visible efforts to keep herself in check, but something unbelievably painful still surfaced in her expression. "...But that's... it-it's… …you don't want… this to be normal?" She murmured, gesturing between the two of them.

"That's not what I…" she trailed off, realizing that she'd indeed come off as spurning the idea that they might be intimate again. Which, no matter that she had no idea how she'd ever be comfortable going there in the future, the thought of never forgetting herself in her arms again was poignantly harrowing. "I just," she tried again in unnerved distress, "I don't want you to do things because you think it's what I want," she repeated. "Don't try to cater to what you think I might want."

Slowly, understanding transformed her gaze and her disquiet visibly settled as Blake evidently started to grasp what she meant. "What if it's what I want?" She then asked.

Yang found herself pausing, taken with the notion for a second. If it really was what Blake wanted…? Didn't Blake see a poor mutilated victim when she looked at her? An invalid to protect? She'd made that awfully clear already, but for a moment there, Yang had almost forgotten that because Blake… genuinely had seemed into it. The electricity in the air was there, the passion and heat and… the gleam in her eyes, all of it, was just as it was a year ago. Such that she'd forgotten herself completely, she'd forgotten Blake didn't see her as her equal anymore, and she'd forgotten her eerie looking stump until she'd been brutally reminded of it as she tried to use her hand.

Blake inched forward again, gently taking her hand in hers. "I'm serious, Yang," she beseeched unfalteringly. "If you stopped me because you think this is the same as me opening the door for you or getting your bag for you, it's absolutely not. I wanted this for myself just as much as I hoped to make you happy."

Troubled with how her assumptions of the worst had been shaken and confused as to how to proceed from there, carefully, the blonde took back her hand. "Let's just sleep, okay?"

Clearly pained and unfulfilled -both from not getting answers and sexually- but evidently understanding it was best not to push it, the dark-haired woman nodded and gently let herself down on the mattress. Yang stared back at her, lying there in nothing but her tight black pants and the desire to lie over her surged like a roaring beast inside her. Instead, she grabbed the bed covers to huddle over herself as she lay down, her back to her.

"…Do you need me to go put on my pajamas?"

"I don't care," she uttered, not giving a second thought to why she might ask this. "Do what you want."

The mattress shifted as Blake lightly shuffled, then came the sound of mildly heavy fabric hitting the floor. The bed covers were lifted, and Yang could feel the presence and warmth of another body with her. But Blake stayed on the edge of the bed, as if she was afraid of encroaching on her personal space. Yang was reminded of the first time they'd slept in the same bed. That'd been the night before everything changed between them, it'd been an unfamiliar bed too, and Blake had done the same as now, staying as far as she could from her. That first time at the inn, as Blake had settled to the very edge of the bed, the empty space between them had felt so, so completely wrong, it had been without a second thought that she'd pulled her into her arms to spoon her. Back then, Yang had yet to understand why she'd so intrinsically needed to be closer, that it was simply because of how utterly crazy about her she already was, but as she'd wrapped herself around her, oblivious yet to what had been set in motion, to how irrevocably their relationship would change that next morning, it had felt like everything had just… fallen into place. Gathering her partner against herself and burying her nose in her luscious black hair was unquestionably everything that was right in the world, and she'd felt so at ease, so perfectly at peace, she'd been out like a light the next second.

And now as she lay very, very still for a long time, trying to will herself to sleep, the deep desire that the other woman would close the distance and wrap her arms around her the same way Yang had the first time they'd shared a bed thoroughly consumed her thoughts. "You're not going to catch any sleep if you don't actually get comfortable," she heard herself mumble, knowing that the faunus would at least understand she didn't have to force herself to be almost falling out of bed.

"You don't mind if I get closer?"

"That's what I'm telling you," she muttered, feeling her heart rate rise slightly. She didn't know why she was tense about this at all; they'd been getting much more intimate only a few minutes ago. Although at this point, physical intimacy wasn't by any means as nerve wracking as emotional intimacy. And inviting her into her space opened a door for exactly that, didn't it?

It took a second, but Blake gradually did shift closer, and it felt to Yang as if something in the very air relaxed. There was a second transfer of weight on the mattress, with which she understood Blake had turned on her side, leaving her to wonder if she was staring at the back of her head. Yang felt compelled to turn around and face her, but she resisted the urge; she was resolved to sleep, she told herself. Also, maybe… something at the back of her mind fervently longed that, now that Blake had relaxed somewhat and had gotten the green light to approach her again, maybe, just maybe she'd wrap her arms around her and lay her head on her back.

But none of that happened. It was another long, albeit more relaxed, silence of Yang staring out into the darkness. She didn't know how long she stared out into the emptiness, but Blake sighing gently made her aware that she wasn't faring any better with her attempt to rest. It was definitely her own fault neither of them could sleep, she was the one pushing, pulling and being so ambiguous, and Yang willed herself to make it at least comfortable enough that they could sleep.

"I'm sorry," the blonde quietly volunteered. "I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted, "I don't know how to handle everything."

"You're still recovering," Blake pointed out.

"You're not fed up?"

"Of what?"

Of what? Like Yang's behavior wasn't obviously weird and all over the place? "The way I'm being," she answered. "I know I'm a mess. I… keep pushing you away and being irritable. You don't have to put up with it."

"Put up with it?" the faunus repeated, "Yang, when I was away, I never let myself even hope you might let me this close to you again," she revealed. "I knew down to my core that I needed to find you, that I would sooner or later find you again… but I barely had any hope I'd even see your eyes violet again; I was convinced that you'd hate me," she admitted, the knot in her throat clearly audible.

Blake took a second there and it was almost imperceptible at first, but Yang could feel strands of her hair moved and she realized the faunus was combing her hair with her fingers. It might've been out of an urge to occupy herself, to keep it together maybe, but Yang was infinitely glad she had ventured reaching out. The gentle combing became more overt and she felt her fingers grazing the back of her ear as Blake tucked back strands. It was incredibly soothing.

"Believe me, Yang… no matter how apprehensive and uncertain you are, how it is now is already nothing short of a miracle to me," she disclosed, "I'll be as patient as you need me to be. And I will be there."

In an insuppressible, so natural impulse, Yang reached over her shoulder to gently catch her hand as it still went through her hair. She laced her fingers with hers, reassuringly rubbing her skin with her thumb. "...Thank you."

The hand in her own clutched it like a lifeline and the mattress shifted again as Blake moved a little closer. "Can I hold you?"

Yang gave a nod. "...Please," she whispered.

Blake's arm wrapped itself around Yang's waist, and, as she closed the distance between them, Yang could feel the other woman's bare skin against the area of her back that her crop top exposed. The same skin contact with her thighs and legs surprised her as Blake curled up around her. Remembering the thud of heavy fabric as Blake had opted not to get out of bed to finish getting changed, Yang realized that had been her jeans hitting the floor. It felt like her heart jumped in her throat. "... You're naked?"

"...I have underwear?" Blake unsurely answered, as if a bit scared Yang would spurn her again. "I wanted to be comfortable to sleep," she then explained, though that was evident enough. "But then I…. didn't want to get out of bed to cover myself either because I felt like it… it might put more distance between us. And I… I didn't want that."

Yang understood exactly what the other woman meant. It was along the lines of what Blake said that other morning in Haven, as they'd woken up in the same bed. How she wanted to take down every wall she'd ever put between them. How she never wanted to hide herself from Yang again. How she wanted to be open and completely unguarded. Her opting not to shy away and hide her body was profoundly intertwined with the idea of laying herself bare completely and being vulnerable.

Her lack of answer however might've sent the wrong message because Blake's arm around her waist slid off as she felt her pull away. "…I'll go put something on," she muttered.

"No, it's fine," she interjected, quickly glancing back at her. Blake had sat up, about to get out of bed, and Yang hadn't been ready to see her gorgeous, lithe figure again. She couldn't look at her more than a second before her attention was on the bedcovers instead. "Don't, it's okay," she reiterated. "I know what you mean. I really don't want us to backtrack either. We were doing well."

It was a second of pause, Yang could tell Blake was openly starting at her, and it forced her to acknowledge what was implied in what she'd just said. Yang might have hit the brakes on advancing things any further between them, but she didn't want to change course either. All in all, what Blake had to have understood was that this standstill wasn't a rejection. So Blake let herself down, lying on her side to face her, pulling the duvet over herself again.

Reservedly, Yang ventured from her focus on the beddings to her. Blake was huddled in the blanket such that not even the top of her naked shoulder was visible, and she looked incredibly small stuffed this way in the oversized duvet. But though she was so well covered, the way her bangs spilled on the pillow and were pushed back a bit into her hair left her face and eyes a little barer than they usually would be. There might never have been a time when it felt to Yang that she was as unguarded as now and it truly made her want to take the step into that open door. "What you said the other day about wanting to be open about everything about you… You think that'll help making it better between us?"

"I think it's necessary," she whispered back without skipping a beat. "I mean, how will you ever allow yourself to lean on me if you still feel like I'm keeping things from you?"

True. Yang broke eye contact. This time, if they wanted to do it right, they had to stand on solid ground.

Blake exhaled softy. "I know you need to know what's inside of me if I want a chance for you to feel comfortable opening up to me or trusting me again… and even more so if you're ever to… lean on me or... find comfort in me. And back then, I didn't understand all that, so I kept you out. I thought it didn't matter what made me me, because you managed to get to know me and care for me without knowing any of it. I chose to believe it didn't matter," she related ruefully. Her cat ears then perked. "But it does matter. Pretending my past doesn't exist left us unprepared when it came back with a vengeance, and I don't ever want you to put up with unpleasant surprises again."

A year ago, Yang would have given anything for her partner to open up about her past; why she left the White Fang, if she had any family, what had happened to them, what she'd see in her nightmares, and a million other questions. But with the events of the last weeks, with Blake having brought that makeshift army from Menagerie and everything about her family and motivations coming to light, Yang realized that, at this point in time she had most of the answers she had been wishing for. There really was only one thing that remained blurry to her: Adam.

Back in the Beacon days, Blake had rarely ever talked about him, even though it seemed he'd played a central role in her life. All Yang knew about their relationship had been what Blake so vaguely retold, and everything else Yang knew about him, she'd gathered from news and broadcasts here and there; that was how Yang knew his name at all. Even though that single encounter with him had changed her life in seconds. On that night, she'd seen him mouth something as he leaned over Blake but had been too far to hear any of it. When Blake finally related his threat to her only weeks ago, it'd only raised more questions in Yang's mind. Because if he stabbed Blake and aimed to destroy everything she held dear, then he hated her, right? What could she have done to deserve it? Did she deserve it? Or was it simply that, having been her mentor, he resented she'd left? But wouldn't all that be a bit much to punish desertion?

There was no figuring it out by herself.

"...So you're gonna tell me about him?"

From her expression, it couldn't have been more obvious that she expected this. "About Adam…?" She nonetheless confirmed. "What did you want to know about him?"

Yang made a bit of a face. "Not really about him, Blake… about you two. You've told me bits and pieces about 'mentor' or 'partner', or that he would get in your head. And sure, by now, I know he's an important piece of your time in the White Fang… but that's the thing. He's important. So it's weird how you took such a long time to even mention him back in Beacon even though we were fighting the White Fang and Torchwick," she reminded her. "And you told me that he said… that he vowed to destroy everything you love. That's not a small threat," she pointed out despondently, hoping that Blake would understand where she was coming from. "At this point, I don't know what questions to ask, there's this huge mystery around him, giant gaps I don't know how to fill."

Shining orbs of golden were peering up at her and Yang thought to herself of all those times she'd tried to get her to open up in the past, of how Blake would unfailingly avert her gaze when the conversation strayed that way before. In this silence, it was unclear to her whether Blake was trying to order her thoughts and decide where to start, or if she was still considering whether or not to talk at all. Her golden eyes dropped slightly as she almost imperceptibly sucked in her lower lip to lightly chew on it while she reflected, and for a second, Yang was afraid she would go back on her claim and refuse to open up. But Blake's gaze found hers again.

"When my father stepped down, I was...outraged," she started. "I couldn't believe my parents would simply… give up the fight to go hide in the one place that was furthest away from the front lines. Or, that's how I saw it back then anyways. And that's why I refused to follow them and stayed on the front lines instead," she narrated, quite obviously to set the stage for her story. It was no surprise to Yang that is started there.

"The reason I tagged along with him… was because he'd been by my father's side for a couple of years already. I thought I'd gotten to know him, I… thought I knew who he was," she shared. "I thought what I saw in him was justice and passion, and I admired that. I was starry-eyed and… probably infatuated with the romantic idea of a savior I thought we needed. It was the sort of hero I aspired to be and whom I thought he was. He was only a few years older, but it matters at that age, and I idolized him." Confessing to this appeared to shame her and her cat ears dejectedly bowed forward. Blake took a second to push the duvet away from the way it engulfed her, from the way it seemed to protect her. "The point is… I was drinking every one of his words. I really couldn't tell them apart yet from the self-righteous, entitled temper-tantrum of an overgrown child because… well, I was still a child myself. I was young and full of illusions."

Trying to make sense of the timeline of the events she was recounting, Yang found herself asking: "How old were you?"

"Thirteen, almost fourteen. I turned fourteen a month after parting ways with my family," she clarified. Blake gave a deep sigh, pressing her hand to her face bleakly, letting it slide down her cheek to her neck, like she couldn't believe herself. "I let myself be carried away. By the ideals he inflated, by the measures he claimed were necessary. And I couldn't discern that the violence he pushed for was nothing but his raw hatred and desire for revenge," she murmured. "It took me some time before I had an inkling of it, and then I… frankly, I was in denial for even longer," she acknowledged. "I would rationalize his actions, find excuses, and let him tell me what to think. I didn't want to believe he was a monster. And I… especially, I didn't want to believe I'd been an instrument for his horrid agenda. I'm not proud to say it took me as long as it did before I let myself lift the veil I kept in front of my eyes."

As the faunus retold all this, Yang decided that the self-assessment Blake had made as she'd confessed to constantly running away had been wrong. She hadn't run from her family. The choice Blake had made had been to pursue her ideals, and it might have resulted in a falling out with her parents, but the original motivation for this wasn't cowardice, it was bravery. And the same could be said for having left the White Fang. She didn't quite run from it. She'd simply refused to continue committing to something that had mutated into an unrecognizable monstrosity. And that in and of itself had to have taken presence of mind and fortitude. Because people usually don't want to see it when something dear takes a turn for the worst.

"No one knew back then," Blake continued, "but the command of the White Fang was slowly passing from Sienna to Adam behind the scenes. So… the officially stated goals and philosophies were Sienna's, yet some factions were increasingly violent in the shadows," she revealed quietly. "Maybe believing in what we said we were was what allowed me to blind myself for so long. All in all, it took about three years for me to leave."

The blonde hummed thoughtfully. What she'd retold was a good enough recap of the events to set the stage but… it didn't quite explain his motivations for having so viciously attacked and threatened her. "So… because you're not being his little obedient soldier, he decided to get rid of you?" She tried. "Is that why he wanted to kill you that night?"

Some unmistakable apprehension transformed her gaze, but Blake nevertheless corrected her. "I think his mindset was more… if he can't have me, then no one else should."

It took a second to register because Yang just couldn't fathom it. She had to have misunderstood, right? It was just unconceivable to her that one could want to bring such pain and destruction to someone they loved. "He...loves you?"

She broke eye contact, biting her lower lip. "...That's…" Blake gave a sigh. "I don't know that it can even be called 'love'," she quietly said. "If anything, what he loves is who he thought I was. Maybe, more accurately, who he wanted me to be. He never saw me for who I was, he never cared to."

Her saying this brought to Yang's mind her conversation with Sun. How he also was saying he had a wrong idea of who Blake was. Only, Sun had dealt with that in a healthier way, accepting Blake's true colors and learning to love her in a way that cemented into a strong friendship

"Or rather," Blake seemed a bit lost in her thoughts, as if voicing this aloud granted her a better grasp on it. "That's not true. He saw who I was. He always knew I wasn't who he wanted me to be, but he didn't care," she declared. "He didn't care, because he thought he could just mold me into what he wanted." Her features were slowly contorting with a mix of grief and revulsion, maybe over what had happened or maybe simply over the thought of him. "Whenever he'd get an inkling that I was deviating from the role he wanted me to fill, every time who I actually was or what I actually wanted emerged, he'd do his damn best to crush it all," Blake explained, some anger surging in her voice. "He'd dismiss what I'd muster the courage to say when I felt I needed to speak up, and whenever I was unsure about his ideas, he'd make me feel like I had to be insane not to think the same way he did. He would talk down at me and make me feel so... insignificant." As she'd vented about this, her skin had reddened a bit with her agitation and high emotions. Blake's gaze was somewhere down, anywhere but looking up at her. "He'd make me feel incredibly insecure, make me doubt myself so much that I'd end up scurrying back to his ideas, to the way he wanted to do things."

With those explanations about the nature of their relationship, it was becoming unbelievably clear why Blake had so much difficulty bringing him up back then. With such a twisted and oppressive rapport, no one would want to reminisce about it. Yang didn't know how to respond to this. Searching for what words to offer her, her efforts evaporated as she noticed Blake's jaw clenching, yet she parted her lips, and then a second time. Blake wasn't done, Yang realized, and it looked like she was doing her very best to find it in herself to spit out what still festered inside of her. How much she visibly struggled made Yang want to tell her it was okay if she couldn't say more, she didn't have to torture herself this way. "You don't have to," she gently whispered.

"No, I do," Blake answered, her breath shaking. "I'm done running, and I'm done running from this too. He's gonna keep having a hold over me until I confront what happened." With this she shut her eyes in apparent concentration, or maybe in pain. She took a very deep breath before resuming. "It was always about what he wanted, what he thought he was owed or thought he deserved. And he… managed to convince me that I owed him because he was the only one who would ever care about me," she then explained as she raised a timid gaze to meet hers. "That I… owed him...anything he could want from me," she apprehensively added, and the way she looked to hesitantly gauge Yang's reception of this spoke so loudly that Blake wouldn't have had to continue for her to understand. "I wasn't able to stand up for myself, so I shut down instead of saying no."

What she revealed sunk in brutally. Blake didn't use that word, like she even abhorred the term itself, but there was no question about what it was that Blake was confiding in her. All Yang's instincts screamed to drag her against herself, to clutch her as fiercely as she could as she felt her vision fogging up with grief and anger and compassion. Yet given the nature of what was being unearthed, it felt way too tactless to simply grab her, especially that the other woman was mostly naked. Under the covers, her fingers brushed against the back of the faunus's hand in a silent request for permission to touch her, and Blake immediately entwined her fingers with hers in response, clutching her hand in an evident need for support.

Between the constant struggle for faunus rights, the pervasive racism, and her going rogue, Yang had already gathered that the other woman had experienced a lot of trauma in her life. She had even suspected physical abuse, thinking of the racist altercations that were unfortunately still so common to hear about, but she'd never, ever suspected this sort of abuse. Maybe because something in her hadn't wanted to believe something so atrocious could've happened to someone so genuinely good. The taste of bile at the back of her throat made her aware of how utterly sickened she was and the heat that coursed through her skin made her wonder if her eyes had turned red.

The emotion swelling had reached a point where Blake couldn't contain it and with her face scrunched up with anguish, a few tears escaped her. She shook her head faintly, like she was berating herself internally. "It wasn't even what made me leave," she disclosed, sniffing, "I… let it go on because I thought—… because he convinced me that there was something wrong with me for not wanting him the same way." The grip of her hand in Yang's tightened and with the other she quickly wiped her eyes. "I didn't understand what I wanted yet, but I knew it wasn't that. And, him, he made me feel like I was crazy or stupid to feel the way I did. He got in my head so deep that he even managed to make me feel… like all those things that I knew couldn't possibly be right were normal. Like how—" She stopped abruptly, like she was catching herself. Her golden orbs found her gaze again and Blake exhaled with difficulty, taking a hold of herself. "…Sorry, I'll spare you."

Blake wasn't wrong, she didn't want to hear it at all. Yet watching her swallow her words when the nightmare of those memories seemed to be strangling her was worse. "... Don't stop if you need it out," Yang murmured.

The look in her eyes was so demure and distressed, so very unlike her, and it looked like she was trying to assess if it was really okay.

Everything inside her ribcage tightened and it was hard to breathe. Again, she was exceptionally aware of how brave Blake actually was. It hadn't been as simple as running away from problems. Blake had torn herself from the powerful grip of abuse. She'd managed to free herself from the sort of hell that breaks people for life, and she'd walked away from that destructive storm with the goodness within her unscathed, with the nobility of her heart uncompromised and without ever losing sight of her vision for a better world. Her voice to leave had been about growth and saving herself. It took a lot of strength of heart to manage something like that.

...Probably the only time her nerves truly gave way and Blake had actually truly ran away... had been when she left her. Maybe by then it'd been a self-fulfilling prophecy, telling herself that she was a coward or something of the sort had her crumble when Yang had needed her. Blake's inner-dialogue had been conditioned by Adam to be vicious gaslighting at that point, and, though she'd done her best to rebuild herself at Beacon with the team, it was likely that the open wounds left from her time in the White Fang hadn't had time to heal yet. And the burden of the devastating events of the Fall of Beacon proved too much to sustain. How could Yang ever hold that moment of weakness against her knowing all this?

It felt like the thick smoke that had obscured her heart, her vision, her feelings had dissipated. She was taken with the realization that all the pernicious feelings that had lingered were no longer there, that they'd melted away thanks to all that had happened in the recent weeks –Blake forcing her to spit out the poison, the tragic near-loss they'd almost experienced facing the Apathy, and most of all Blake finally laying everything bare and letting her in. She realized she forgave her. Completely.

She moved a little bit closer. "Blake, I want to listen to you," she pleaded. "Whatever you need off your chest."

Blake's second hand took hold of hers too. Both her hands were quivering. "I just…" She exhaled briskly, bringing her hand over her heart, their fingers still intertwined, almost like she was hugging it. "I hate that I didn't do anything about it," she said, shaking her head, her cat ears flattening backwards. "But I don't know, I was just… I would just freeze up and I couldn't do anything. I'd just stop moving, praying it'd be over fast." Her brow furrowed, and her lips pressed tightly together, and she let out a sob. "Even though it hurt and I'd bleed sometimes, he'd just… force it anyways and tell me to stop whining. And use his spit like I didn't feel dirty enough," she vented, tears rolling down her cheeks though she was taken with anger. "Somehow, I still thought it'd be unjustified to fight him off because I really believed I was the problem. I thought the reason I felt so wrong and ashamed was because… because I should've been enjoying it when I wasn't."

With this, Blake gave a scoff, shaking her head to herself. "Twisted people like him will really get in your head when you're vulnerable," she said, wiping her face quickly and taking a deep breath, getting a hold of herself. Her eyes stayed on Yang's. "He probably still thinks to this day that he can pressure me into falling in line with whatever he wants, or that if he beats me into submission, I'd just comply, accept he's 'right' and be whatever he wants me to be. And that's why he said he'd destroy everything I loved. Because he thinks that if I have nothing else to love, all that'll be left then would be for me to love him. Like that's how it works."

"That's so fucked up," Yang murmured under her breath, trying to process everything that had been said along with what had just come together within herself.

The faunus nodded, returning her hand she'd used to wipe her tears over Yang's, which she still held to hear heart. It was a bit damp still. "And yet it was only after I'd left the White Fang, after I'd been away from him long enough that I… was able to take a step back and... And see how sick his way of thinking actually is. And understand… what was truly happening back then," she explained ruefully. "The manipulation and the… abuse. The constant abuse, and the…" she trailed off, like the word caught in her throat. Again, Blake couldn't say it for what it was. "And… that's why talking about him was so hard. That's why it took such a long time before I even mentioned him to any of you," she concluded. "I was still hurt and betrayed and… ashamed. And even thinking about him made me feel all wrong," Blake added quietly, her fingers idly gliding inside Yang's palm. "A lot of the nightmares I'd have when we were at Beacon were about…all that."

How she'd often found Blake tossing and turning in nightsweats vividly flashed through her mind. Back then, Yang had implored every God she could think of—any power out there— to take those nightmares away. She'd hurriedly try to pull her back to consciousness, and the way the faunus would resist the firm grip Yang would have on her shoulders to wake her used to cleave a gigantic gash in her heart. The panicked look of distress, pain and betrayal in her eyes as they'd snap open, was seared into Yang's memory. The terror and shock would be blinked away in a second as Blake found her bearings, as she'd properly wake up, but… the sheer rawness of it all was so blood-chilling, it had always shaken Yang to her core. And now, she finally knew what exactly she'd been pulling Blake from when she'd wake her up.

"I had no idea," she murmured, heartbroken.

"You couldn't have."

Worst of all, understanding that in those horrid dreams, Blake would've been looking at him that way… it completely nauseated Yang. It exacerbated her abhorrence of him to a point she hadn't even been aware she was capable of feeling. "I'm so sorry," she added under her breath, feeling the bile at the back of her throat. And with the way talking about him made Yang feel, she couldn't even imagine how awful discussing him might be on her ex-partner. And Yang had put her in a position where she pretty much had to tell her. "I'm really sorry, I didn't want to make you feel forced to tell me."

She faintly shook her head. "I didn't feel forced, I always intended to tell you. Even before everything went wrong, I've meant to tell you, but I just… I never seemed to find the right time," she explained, before her gaze dropped a bit. "There is no right time for that sort of thing."

"It still was a bit inconsiderate on my part," the blonde muttered

"No… you asking made the space for me to finally be able to tell you, and I wanted to tell you," she maintained. "Not to mention… a long time ago, I promised you that someday I would open up about everything, and that wasn't an empty promise."

A vague memory of old days in Beacon, before they had ever crossed the line of friendship, came to her mind. Yang hadn't been sure if that'd been a dreamt-up memory or a real one, but it seemed it'd been real. She remembered sitting on the cold tiles of their dorm room's bathroom floor, nauseated and drowsy and fuzzy after overdoing it for her eighteenth birthday, yet feeling so serene and at ease and happy after a very emotional talk with Blake. That night, she'd leaned her forehead to hers, gazed into her eyes, and implored for that one thing out of her: her word that, once she was ready, Blake would open up and let her in. The brawler had no idea back then what enormous request that actually had been, but Blake had promised her nonetheless. She promised her, she remembered, and she honored that promise. She cared so much about honoring it that she was able to find the strength to tell Yang even what she'd been most ashamed of.

Very gently, Yang removed her hand from the other woman's grip so she could instead stream her fingers into her silky black curls, pushing some strands back behind a human ear, gently pushing bangs away from her face. Blake closed her eyes as she looked to be savoring the moment, and the violet orbs took the opportunity to take in every detail of her. Yang mused over how far Blake had to have come to simply be ready to be back with the team, to stick by their side again, or to have encountered Adam again outside of Haven and defied him… and to have broken the silence, the last of his hold on her. And Yang understood to her very core that the way Blake had emerged stronger than ever from the roaring hurricane of catastrophic events in her life meant she would be able to stand her ground and weather any storm that could be thrown their way from now on. There was no residue left of even her fear that Blake might vanish. Yang found that not only did she forgive her completely… she believed in her again. Blake had been right; knowing what was inside of her changed everything.

Yang's fingers trailed on her skin, along her jaw, tracing the gorgeous outline of her face. Blake seemed to be enjoying it tremendously, she kept her eyes closed as she spoke again. "I had never told anyone, I didn't know how to start, I guess," she commented, her voice was so gentle, almost inaudible. "I didn't know how you'd feel about it or… or if…" Her eyes fluttered open, curiously peering up at her, "if… knowing all that about me," she timidly continued, "it might.. make you see me any differently?"

The blonde frowned a bit, a little puzzled. "…Differently? In what way?"

The faunus shrugged non-committedly. "…Any way it could've been changed," she vaguely answered.

She had the impression there might be something specific the other woman wanted to know. She furrowed her brow further. "Having been abused isn't your fault," she carefully answered.

"I know," Blake quickly replied. "But I… I just…" she trailed off, evidently deliberating on how to approach what she wanted to ask. She licked her lips pensively and then glanced at her again. "... Remember the one night you slept in my bed…? How I told you a bit about… prejudice faunus are regularly subjected to…?" Getting a nod from the blonde let her continue. "I told you how with, everything that happens to us on a daily basis, how hard it can be to keep it all out and stay… unaffected by the hate. And… how it'd often made me feel repulsive," she recapped carefully, though Yang wouldn't have needed her to. Blake looked hesitant to continue, but she probably figured that at that point, with everything that had been said… why shy away now? "... What he did to me," she quietly uttered, "it made that feeling so much worse. And even now, I'll sometimes feel… really dirty."

Wait, was she saying she feared Yang might perceive her as dirty? Disconcerted, Yang moved herself even closer. "... Blake," she gently called, "what happened, it's not a stain left on you, it's a wound. You're not dirty for it, you're injured," she refuted. Somehow, she thought back on what she spoke of with Jaune –how nothing that might've happened to her could have made Yang want to be with Blake any less. "He hurt you. That's what happened. It doesn't diminish you or your value or anything else in any way. None of it is on you."

Her gaze lit up with relief and optimism, her cat ears perking up a bit. "…Yeah," she breathed.

Yet the way she still came off as demure, with something still obscuring the air about her had Yang follow up with: "… What else?"

She swiftly found interest in the bedcovers, almost like she'd expected to have been seen through. "Just… also, I mean…" Blake sighed. "Like just now, you said he hurt me but I…." she trailed off again and shook herself. Taking a hold of herself, she found her eyes again with a more decisive air. "He did. He hurt me. But I still want you to keep looking at me like you do when we fight side by side, like you trust me to have your back because you believe I'm capable. I never want you to think of me as a victim or as… as someone you need to protect," and as she said this, something changed in her expression, like realization had just washed over her. Her eyes fell to what remained of Yang's right arm, and it couldn't have been more obvious she thought of her own words during that blizzard in that shed. "When I said I'd protect you, I didn't mean—"

"Didn't you, though?"

Dismay completely replaced her previous unease. "No, never!" Blake fiercely contested. "Yang, it changes nothing about my perception of you," she asserted. "Even had this not happened, the simple knowledge of Adam being a threat would've had me say the same thing!" She then claimed, propping herself up on her elbow. "He's vicious and regardless of whether or not you'd gotten wounded before, I would want to stand between you two."

The way she'd hoisted herself to almost half-sit had the duvet spill off her, uncovering her upper body again. And of course, Yang was drawn to look, how could she not? She was just so beautiful. If Blake noticed at all, she certainly had no qualms and let her stare. Somewhere at the back of her mind, Yang wondered if she would ever feel comfortable in her skin the way she used to be, the way Blake evidently was.

"Yang, we fought side by side on top of the train," she reminded her, maybe believing the brawler hadn't been sufficiently persuaded —and she was right. "I know you've fully readapted, I've seen you fight the way you used to. Your injury doesn't change my perception of you at all."

"Not at all?" Yang nevertheless reconfirmed, giving up on keeping silent her image issues. "It really doesn't faze you? Not even just a bit?"

It was written all over her face; Blake instantaneously realized that Yang had expected her to have some sort of reaction. "…How did you think it might faze me?"

And though she knew there was nowhere left to hide with this, it wasn't any easier to voice. "Not even… because, I mean..." she sighed, holding her gaze with more difficulty than she would've wanted. "...Isn't it… ugly?"

She stared back in confusion for a second, and Yang could see in her eyes the moment all the pieces fell in place, when Blake finally understood what the question truly was. "...Is this what you meant to ask me the other morning? When I thought you wanted me to touch you…? You actually… you just wanted to know if I think it's… unattractive?" As she spoke, urgency rose, and Blake searched her features with disbelief and she straightened to sit completely upright. "Is this why you stopped me earlier…?"

Being asked this so frankly, having this insecurity torn to light left her fumbling to justify herself. "It looks so nasty, how can you not think it's… gross? Or creepy? Especially when it touches you?"

Blake's expression tightened with what looked to be disapproval, or maybe with an attempt at containing an outburst. Her gaze was firmly on the violet one, and though she remained calm and collected, her voice was incredibly impassioned as she spoke. "There is nothing about you I'd ever find nasty or gross. Not ever."

Somehow that drunken birthday came to mind again. How Blake had insisted on staying with her as she sat by the toilet, nauseated. Yang hadn't ended up being sick that night, but she knew that, had she been, Blake would've steadfastly remained at her side to care for her without a second thought. Her gaze dropped for a second. Although, everyone was sick once in a while, so it wasn't something that would irrevocably change one's image. Unlike an entire missing limb. She sat up too. "Even if you don't think it's gross, I mean isn't it weird and distracting?" She tried, not really knowing how to formulate her perspective. "Like, the way it's just weirdly leaning on your shoulder when I'm trying to hug you…?"

"It's not weird or creepy or distracting," Blake strongly reiterated, refusing to budge. For a second, she seemed at a loss for what else to add. "It's just… this is how it is now," she stated disconcertedly. "It didn't even cross my mind that you could think I might be any less attracted to you because of your injury. It doesn't factor in my desire to be with you, not at all."

Yang couldn't make herself look at her. She stared down at the bunched-up bed sheets in her lap and her hand on them.

"Didn't it come across? That I want you?" Blake then inquired, and Yang suspected that, though she posed it as a question, Blake knew for a fact she had deeply felt her passion a few moments earlier. That passion ignited them both like nothing else. "Even on that morning in Haven, I really wanted to, you know?"

After the tears and the accusations, with so much to reflect on and talk about still, Yang hadn't been in a place she would have been able to believe it then. She'd thought the only reason Blake would've come onto her would be being hung up on who they were; she couldn't conceive she could still desire her. Because, even setting aside the emotional turmoil, she'd thought… how could Blake, devastatingly beautiful as she was, still want to be intimate with her? With a cripple? How would that not be pity sex? "That morning…I… sorta… I was wondering if maybe it was a weird mix of like... …nostalgia and pity," she admitted.

Horror crossed her features at once. "Oh, god, no!" She exclaimed, moving closer, leaning in to finally catch her gaze. "Yang, looking at your arm, I'm devastated you had to suffer through this much pain, but beyond that? There's nothing beyond that!" Her voice was a little strangled with emotion. "It's definitely not repulsive, and it would never change how I feel about you!"

Blake's hand found her shoulder and slid up a bit to her neck, her fingers under the blonde mane, and if she hadn't already had Yang's complete and undivided attention, she definitely did now. "Listen to me," she commanded, her breath shaking. "No scars of yours would ever change how I feel about you. Not ever, okay? No matter what. Please burn this into your mind," she pleaded, and her hand on her neck slid up to her cheek. Blake gazed at her earnestly, pleadingly, achingly, and she brought her other hand to her cheek, holding her face gently. "If anything changed," she whispered, "it was only for my feelings to deepen. I'm more certain about you than ever."

This was probably the last thing she could've expected, but what shone in those fascinating golden pools was indisputable. Yang believed her, that she was being completely honest with this claim, but it was still hard to process. "…Why…?" Escaped her.

"Yang, you—…" She shook her head, one of her hands gently caressing her face under the blonde bangs. "You… you got hurt… immensely. Yet you're still you. You didn't grow bitter, resentful or spiteful. You never thought for a second of taking your feelings out on the world, making it pay, or—or … making me pay. You're a noble soul, and I regret ever having doubted it," she whispered. After the fight with Mercury, Yang had been relieved that Blake had chosen to believe in her and stand by her, yet somewhere at the back of her mind, she wondered if her partner did completely believe her. They'd never again had the chance to discuss this, but she was now convinced whatever doubt might have obscured the faunus's trust in her would be gone. Her golden eyes locked onto Yang's glimmered even through the darkness, utterly captivating. "I always thought you were incredibly beautiful, both inside and out," Blake reaffirmed so gently, "but, back then… I still hadn't understood yet just how you truly are everything I ever wished for."

Her throat was tied so painfully, she couldn't trust herself to speak. Yang shifted closer, sliding her arm around her waist to wrap it around her body, pulling her to herself. Sitting up the way they were, Blake was bound to have to shift given what the blonde's pull incited, and she boldly moved to straddle her, allowing their bodies to come together, to mould so intimately and so perfectly together. Her arms tightly wrapped around her neck and the dark-haired woman curled around her in a tight embrace.

"You're the most precious thing in my life," Blake murmured, her cheek against Yang's own was replaced by her lips as she laid a burning, committed kiss on her skin. "And as long as I mean anything to you, as long as there's anything left to try to rebuild, I want to try."

Try…? They'd been rebuilding even with Yang being stubbornly uncooperative about it at first. It was so natural for them to be together that there was no stopping it. "We're already there," she whispered, and the grip Blake had on her drastically increased. "…We've made it," she corrected, closing her eyes to relish in being enveloped in her, in her arms, in her warmth, in her scent. Her hand comfortingly rubbed her naked back under the soft, dark curls.

'This time, we can do it right,' Blake had said, and Yang felt a renewed hope deep within herself. This was doing it right. This was starting over. There was nothing left to shake the foundations of what they had now. They'd both laid everything bare; all the baggage they had, all the ghosts haunting them, the negative thoughts that'd tormented them, all the toxic patterns they'd repeated on and on. All their fears and doubts, all the obstacles that they might've crashed into in the future, none of it was left. From the bottom of her soul, in the utmost depths of her being, Yang trusted her and believed in her. "We're okay," she whispered, remembering how she'd affirmed in the train to Argus that they would be fine.

"We're okay," Blake repeated, her smile audible in her voice, in the elation, the bliss and relief that transpired from it.

After a long while embracing, Yang slowly let herself down on her back, bringing the other woman to lay over her. Blake huddled against her again, nestling into her chest. She was warm, and soft and welcoming and perfect against her. It felt like time had been turned back. Slowly, comfortingly, Blake's hands outlined her body, not quite in a massage, but neither like she had ulterior motives. It was just… really, really tender and comforting, as if her hands on her were giving further reassurance of her presence. Yang sighed with contentment, letting the weight of her head lean on hers, her cheek pressing against the head of dark hair, between cat ears. Blake's naked body against her felt like everything she'd ever need and despite the chaos that was sure to ensue the next day as they would attempt to steal from the Atlesian Military, despite the perhaps vain fight they would put up against forces so much greater than themselves as they'd move forward against Salem's armies, despite it all… she felt at peace. She felt ready to take anything on.

-tbc.