Soulgaze - Bumblebee

"Why?" Yang asked, as soon as the others were out of sight.

She didn't continue—didn't have to. They both knew what she meant. All the questions and wonders and little anxieties over the last several months condensed down in one single word. Why did you run? Why didn't you stay? Did I really mean that little to you?

How could you abandon me?

Blake swallowed, the sound surprisingly loud in the abandoned building. She had known this conversation was coming, knew she eventually had to tell Yang everything. Why she ran. Why she fled as far from her former partner as she possibly could.

Not that knowing made it any easier.

Her teeth found her lip as she tried to find the right way to start this. Not to excuse what she'd done, but just to make Yang understand. Slowly, she forced herself to look up at the blonde, dragging her eyes away from the dirt for a brief look at those violet eyes. Their gazes met and held, and sheer terror filled her veins.

Yang didn't look away. From the stubbornness and the anger Blake saw in her eyes, she felt pretty damn sure Yang wasn't going to.

This was something they had never done. It was something she had never done. Not in years, at least. Not since Adam, not since the day they met for the first time. She had looked into his mind, his soul, and seen what he was, seen the pain he carried, the anger at a world that was simply wrong, the righteous need to fix it.

She hadn't done a soulgaze since. If she had, maybe she would have seen him change. Seen the moment where his anger turned to wrath and rage, seen when he'd crossed that line and become as monstrous as the humans who made him what he was.

But she had never done it with Yang. Not just because of the intimacy. She knew some partners took that step—Ruby and Weiss certainly had. It was a frightening idea on its own, but her reluctance had always come down to what she feared Yang might see. In the beginning, keeping her identity a secret was all the excuse she needed. But when Yang learned about her heritage, when she accepted her as a Faunus, for who and what she was ...

She didn't want Yang to find out how she felt. Not that way. Then Beacon fell, and everything changed.

Blake thought about looking away. She wanted to look away, wanted to duck her head and hide her eyes. Still, Yang deserved this. If she wanted to know why Blake had left, if she needed this ... Blake owed her that. She owed her much more.

Yang's red eyes held hers, and the world fell away.

Blake blinked and found herself standing in a forest clearing. Half of one, at least. After a dozen feet, the soft grass gave way to cobblestone, the trees replaced by towering buildings as rustling leaves and the smell of grass gave way to stone, coal, and steel.

It was an odd sight, a world split in two, a blurry seam literally running down the middle. Maybe not a surprising one though, she thought, her boots brushing through the green blades blanketing the clearing. On one hand, she has Patch, her home, and her family. And the world outside on the other. New and exciting and filled with adventure.

Her foot met something hard, and she stopped. Looking down, Blake found something hidden in the grass, half-buried as the forest fought to reclaim the clearing. Kneeling down, she pulled the weeds and dirt away, brushing her hand back and forth until she could make out what it was.

She found a stone, rounded white marble that reminded her of some of the ruins buried in the forests of Vale. A pedestal, she realized, cocking her head as she took in the shape of it. She stood and stepped to the side, eyes tracking along the base. She'd seen all too many broken or missing statues in ruins from the old outposts of Vale. In her experience, most had some sort of inscription, some way of reminding the viewer who ...

There. Hidden in shadow, half-covered by vines, was a name. It took her a good minute to pull the vines off and away from the stone—each one seemed practically glued onto the pedestal, clinging to it for dear life as she tried to peel them away. Finally she managed it, her breath catching as she looked down at the inscription.

Raven Branwen.

Blake swallowed and looked away. It made sense now. Why the vines were so wrapped so tight around it. Within seconds, her eyes fell upon another pedestal. Unlike Raven's, this one still held its statue, with only a few vines reaching up out of the grasses to twine gently around its legs. It was Yang's father, Blake realized, looking just like he had in the picture Yang once showed her. At least he's still here. The white marble made a strong contrast to the verdant forest, despite the cracks running up the length of the stone, chips having fallen away over the years as the wind and the sun took its toll.

Not just that, Blake thought, looking over a chunk of shoulder held together only by the vines gently encircling his form. Someone's taken a hammer to this. Battered and beaten it until it's just barely holding itself together.

Something caught her eye, and she turned, only to find an empty space along the seam between the two sides of Yang's world. Seeing nothing, Blake moved to turn back, only to find it flickering again, right at the corner of her vision. Carefully, she turned, until the seam was just at the corner of her eye. There.

Along the seam stood two more statues, one for Ruby and one for a scruffy man Blake recognized as Yang's uncle Qrow, both of them there one minute and gone the next. She could see them at the corner of her eyes, but as soon as Blake turned to get a better look, they vanished, ephemeral and untouchable.

Following the path, Blake stepped across the seam and into the city street. Her eyes scanned for another of the pedestals, somehow knowing there would be more. Sure enough, another pedestal stood a ways behind them, well into the stretch of civilization, with Weiss's name engraved in perfect detail into the base. The pedestal looked solid, unbroken and untouched, marred only by the missing statue and the drag marks that ran from it into the encroaching darkness.

She turned, and stopped, frozen in place. There, in the center of the road, stood one last pedestal, as empty as Weiss', with Blake's name engraved just as clearly across the bottom. It was new, without any of the aging or dirt she'd seen on those belonging to Yang's family. The pedestal itself was no bigger than the others, but the space was, as if someone had decided to make it bigger, had chosen to expand, and set aside the extra space just before construction ground to a halt.

Off to one side, hidden in the shadow of a building, stood Blake's statue, this one cut from black marble, dark as the night sky and gleaming with stars. The eyes were chunks of amber, gold and bright within the glinting darkness, ears cresting the top of her head, bow dangling from her hand in a way marble could never be made to.

Is this how she sees me? Blake thought, awed as she stepped forward and ran one hand over the statue. Beautiful and painful to look at, all at once?

And then she saw her, hidden even further within the shadows of the city. A massive golden form curled defensively inside a nearby courtyard . A wondrous, majestic form, feline and reptilian all at once. The dragon was beautiful in Blake's eyes, so incredibly, unbelievably beautiful. And unspeakably, horribly alone.

Without thinking, Blake's feet carried her towards the beautiful, glorious creature, her heart breaking at the sight of the blood still dripping from one broken wing. Gathering beneath in a massive pool of red that spread and spread until it stained the road, slowly sliding up each and every building it could reach.

I am so sorry, she thought, her fingers trembling as she walked towards the unmoving dragon. Of course this was what she would see. Six months wasn't anywhere near long enough for Yang to fully recover from what Adam had done. Because of me, her mind finished for her, making her insides ache. Even with Ironwood's mage-crafted arm, even with her back in action, there hadn't been time for Yang to come to grips with it, as much as anyone could with something like this. Combat-ready or not, deep down, she still saw herself as broken. Damaged. Shattered and just barely holding herself together.

Blake's boot met the cobblestone road, and the sound of a splash hit her ears. Blinking, she looked down to find another pool of blood, one she'd sworn hadn't been there a second ago, separate from the one gathering beneath her wing. Carefully, scared to make a sound, she crept closer. Her stomach tried to revolt as she forced herself to step into the blood, but she ignored it, trying to peak beneath the dragon's neck.

A blade was lodged there, driven deep into the dragon's chest. It looked like it had been there a long time, at least as long as the broken wing, the flesh slowly starting to heal around it. But the blood ... that was fresh. As if the blade had been left there, all this time, and only now some cruel, horrible soul had grabbed the hilt and twisted. It had re-opened, and now a black, poisoned blood dripped out onto the stony road.

She took another step. And another, unable to tear her eyes away. It wasn't the blade Blake expected to see. No red metal glinted where the sword met the dragon's chest. No long slim handle that she had seen settle into Adam's plan countless times.

It wasn't his sword lodged deep into Yang's still-beating heart. Not with the silk cords meticulously wrapped around the handle, or the pitch-black ribbon hanging from the pommel, dangling down until it fell into the dark blood.

It was hers.

Author's Note: Hey everybody. If you're interested, this one got a new Weiss sprite - which you can find on AO3 or my tumblr.

Anyway, please comment if you can spare the time. I read all of them, and it's great to hear people's insights and get constructive criticism from time to time. Also, I'll answer pretty much any question I can, so feel free to ask those here or on my tumblr - redsuitwriter.