The day had ended at the same time as her life. No one had known. Baths had been a regular habit of hers the past few years. Company, of course, would have been undignified, and was not permissible. With the customary two bottles of wine, it was usually hours before she re-emerged, or, on the rarest of occasions, collected by her eternally dutiful servants.

As it was only one bottle was required to supply the piece of glass that slid through her thighs. Much simpler to go through the legs than the wrists, where the first was simple, and the second often failed. Death would still have come quickly, however, much more slowly than with two severed arteries.

Femoral arteries held more blood anyhow.

Winter wondered how she must have felt, all alone, the water turning lukewarm as her hands shook… How the warmth would come back as crimson flooded the tub, before everything started to get cold. Before her skin went from warm to chilled, her skin paling until it was the same as the porcelain tub. The metallic smell in the air fading as everything did, as everything slowly became quiet, slowly became muted, slowly became dull.

And it was cold.

They had found streaks on the walls. Part of Winter wondered if it was her trying to escape the cold, trying to break free, trying to get out… But she had to kill that voice inside her. Because if it was so, then she had been there with no one to pull her out. Then I wasn't there…

More than likely, it was arterial spray. Winter had seen her fair share of it. Arteries were under pressure. The same as poking a hole in a hose...

Apparently the man who had found her had noted that along with the wine, there was the smell of coffee. Alcohol to dilate the veins, countering the vasoconstriction from the coffee, caffeine to pump the heart faster. Heart rate and blood pressure up.

Winter took a long drag of the cigarette, fighting the trembling that started somewhere deep in her stomach and shook her, bone to skin. Nicotine to calm the breathing…

"Fuck," Winter gasped, squeezing her eyes shut, breathing out. Relax. It didn't work. So she took another drag, closed her eyes, breathed out. It was a well rehearsed ritual. It had cleared the tears brought to her by fists, words, and fears. It kept frustration and rage at bay while she trained. The deaths of partners, friends, even family once or twice before.

Now, after so long, it failed her.

A tear slid down her cheek. Partway down, it froze to her face. The ice stung, almost as much as the wind, not nearly as much as the needle that felt as if it had been buried in her chest for days.

"Got an extra?" A gruff voice, one that always had a tendency to turn up when bad things happened.

"What are you doing here?" She was glad for the distraction. Feeling angry felt better than being… Whatever the fuck it was she was feeling.

"Ruby and Yang are getting to the hotel tonight… With Tai in the hospital, well, I figured they could use someone about. Do the dishes, braid their hair, y'know."

"You know how to braid hair?" Winter lifted an eyebrow.

"French braid, fishtail… I am one of two people in the world allowed to touch the hair of Yang Xiao Long I'll have you know." He cracked her a crooked smile, and she couldn't help but chuckle. She pulled out the fresh pack of cigarettes she had bought before getting on the airship out, and flicked it so one stuck out. It was disturbing how quickly the old habit came back.

Qrow took it without thanks, but she had expected none. She knew better by now.

"Your folks coming?" He asked as he pulled a lighter from his pocket, red body, silver cap, rose on the side, and popped it open with a cursory flick. He ground the wheel against the flint, and sparks shot, but no flame caught. He grunted, began to pull on the cigarette so it'd light faster, and struck the flint again. A third time. He paused then and looked up at Winter. Then he plucked the cigarette from his mouth and sighed. "Just one of those days, huh?"

"One of those days," She agreed, muttering half to herself as she stared out through the thick, white blizzard. "Mother's drunk. Father doesn't care. Who's left to come?" Winter pulled one last time on the cigarette, snarling as she burned her upper lip, and let the filter drop. The snow would put it out.

The world screamed through the winds for a moment.

Qrow put a hand on her shoulder. Winter waited a moment, tried to tell herself she didn't need it, leaned into it, then pulled out another roll of tobacco. She flicked her lighter, again and again, but the wind kept knocking the flame out. A wave of fury hit her, just for a moment, not long enough her to shriek or yell or lose all composure, just enough to squeeze the lighter too hard, and snap it in her palm.

"Fuck," She bit her lip, focusing on the new pain as she pulled slivers of plastic from under her skin. The butane spattered her palm and a noxious smell filled her nose. He held up his lighter one last time, striking it, and it caught. He held it up for her, shielding it from the wind. Desperately, she stuck the filter in her lips and pulled. She felt the smoke in her mouth, felt the heated air singe her tongue, the ashy taste filling her mouth, coating her throat and lungs, and she drank it all in blissfully. "Thanks,"

He didn't say anything, just raised his own cigarette, lit it, and started puffing. "These things'll kill you, you know."

"Can't come soon enough," She murmured, too low for him to hear.

She caught a blur of movement, a stark gold through the haze of white.

"That him?" She asked, knowing he'd have already seen it. His eyes had always been better than hers. He didn't answer, just nodded.

She took one last drag, pulled the cigarette out of her mouth, and flicked the half finished stick into the snow. She made her way towards the entrance, intercepting the man.

"Jaune Arc?" She asked, and he turned to her. For a moment he looked excited, then confused. She knew what he was seeing, traces of the other woman he was hoping to find. The same eyes. The same face. The same posture.

"Yeah?" His eyes were glassy, and once he realized who she was, they slid off her face and around him as if he were dizzy.

"You… You found her right?"

He nodded numbly.

"What… happened?" She closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. But she felt so lost. "How did this happen..."

He looked at her, his eyes darting over her face, looking for something she couldn't place.

"Let me get a drink, then I'll answer any question you have."

A/n

New story. Three or four chapters. I've actually laid this one out, so help me god I'm going to get it done.