Work Text:
true colors will bleed
One-shot | red cape and foil | 6, 095 words
Interlude to revolving doors of beliefs. Do not read this before the main piece.
BGM: Carnival of Rust — Poets of the Fall.
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1.
Yang, her sister.
A figure that she has always admired and an anchor that she has never failed to find comfort and security in. Strong. Steady. Warm.
Ruby has never seen her so brittle before.
Her sister is gasping out a sob born of both fear and relief as the thick ice shard finally splits apart, condensation wafting up from in between trembling fingers that are slick with a mix of blood and water from where she kneels by Weiss’s side.
And Ruby’s just… watching. She should go to her. She really should. But something in her feels so far away now, like there’s a stranger in her body. Like she’s a puppet with her strings cut.
“Yang,” Ruby hears Ren say from Weiss’s other side. Despite the tremors and rumbling of the floor, his calm voice cuts through clearly. “You did it. The ice is broken. Let me have her now.”
Yang is shuddering out a breath. But she manages a nod, finally releasing the grip she has on Weiss.
Klein, next to Ren, is inspecting Weiss carefully, deft fingers wrapping a ripped cloth around her torso. Sweat dots his forehead, his eyes a shade of red. “We have to move quickly. It won’t take long before the ice melts completely. Try your best not to jar her too much.”
“I…” There’s a moment when even Ren’s voice seems to waver, but then Jaune is resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and he straightens. “I will be careful,” he says firmly.
He stands carefully, her partner in his arms.
Ren has the steadiest hands and best Aura control among them all, right after Weiss. And if the worst happens… he is the one who has the best chance of escaping with his semblance.
“Yang,” Blake murmurs, crouching by her partner’s side. She hasn’t moved from where she’s kneeling yet. “We have to go.”
Lilac eyes are staring down at her non-mechanical open hand, watching the diluted blood drip down from trembling fingers.
Blake grips at her arms. “Yang.”
Her sister lets out another shaky breath. She stands slowly, with Blake anchoring her. “Okay.” There’s a tremor in Yang’s haunted voice. And then more strongly, “Let’s go.”
It’s Winter who speaks next, eyes like stone, a hand gripping at her not-broken sabre. “Fan out in a diamond formation. The injured and civilians in the middle. We should all expect to encounter Grimm as we get out of here.”
The older woman surveys all of them — from Weiss, to her family, to the ragtag group of huntsmen, to the Ace Ops; and then to… to Penny.
Penny, who remains unconscious on Elm’s back after the unfolding chaos.
Ruby had been forced to fight against her even after Salem and her cohort made their retreat — a task that Blake and Yang had quickly joined in on when it became clear that Penny was still intent on going after Weiss.
While Blake and Yang had been more hesitant, Ruby was less so. With every parry she’d made, her movements shifted from defensive, to offensive, to nearly savage.
And then Winter was suddenly there in between them — a gravity glyph that locked Penny down in place, and a saber on the other side that clashed with Ruby’s scythe before she exerted enough of a force to fling her back, towards Blake.
The soldier didn’t even pause, immediately turning towards Penny after that.
Ruby didn’t know what it was that she did, but Blake apparently saw or at least had a clearer idea. Her teammate had swiftly grasped at her elbow, dragging her back a step before she could trigger her semblance again. Yang was next, a hand gripping at her shoulder to still her motions.
All of that combined had been enough to startle Ruby out of the state she was in, and they'd all watched Penny drop to her knees, eyes flickering between green and red before finally closing shut.
That was when Winter turned to look back at them. She’d stood between her and Penny, almost like an immovable protector, a turmoil of emotions that Ruby couldn’t read thundering in the depths of those blue eyes.
And now, Winter is meeting her gaze again.
For a split second, Ruby can see that mask cracking, something violent and desperately wild leaking through. But then she’s straightening, shoulders squaring.
“Let’s move.”
The floor rumbles harder, a sign of impending collapse.
Ruby turns too, red cloak fluttering behind her, and she double checks on the amount of dust and bullets she has left.
She can feel Yang and Blake looking at her worriedly.
Ruby doesn’t look back at them, but she chances a glance at her unconscious partner held carefully in Ren’s arms.
Weiss’s blood is dripping slowly from soaked fabric, splattering darkly against the floor.
The grip she has on Crescent Rose tightens.
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2.
Her dad teased her about this once when she was much younger.
Summer was a speed demon, he had said wryly, love and a touch of old pain in his eyes. Especially when she was in her element. She’d be breathtaking. Terrifying.
Qrow had guffawed, because Tai was apparently being such a nerdy romantic and yet somehow still failing terribly at it. That’d made her dad flush before smacking at the back of her uncle’s head.
“Ruby,” Qrow says now, eyes grim. “Ready?”
Ruby’s only response is the sound of her scythe unsheathing, blade gleaming in the light.
Yang drops a gentle hand — the mechanical, unblooded one — on her shoulder. “Be careful, sis.” There’s something worn and worried in that soft voice. “I...” she stops short, but Ruby hears it anyway. I can’t lose you too.
She wants to tell her sister that she will be careful.
But her mouth refuses to work.
“Be careful,” Yang repeats instead.
That hand drops, as if her sister knows all she can do is to let go and trust. Yang pulls back into her position, the diamond formation changed to pentagon as they are out of the corridors, and Ruby can hear the familiar sound of shotgun bullets reloading into Ember Celica.
Winter has taken central command. Blake and Yang will take care of any stragglers up front while the Ace Ops flank around their middle and back. Jaune is their very last line of defense.
Qrow and her are the odd ones out, floating around the group — preparing to cleave a path forward and through the Grimm.
It’s a solid formation, she thinks distantly. One that should work well enough until they reach the helicopter, especially since there aren't as many Grimm as compared to… before, despite that there are still far too many.
All the more reason to whittle down as many as she can.
“Ready,” she says to her uncle, quietly.
Qrow stares at her for a long moment.
“On three heartbeats,” he says then, his own scythe angled down and to the side.
Ruby takes in a deep breath, eyes shutting close.
As huntsmen, sometimes, there is a need for absolute silence, especially against Grimm that are sensitive to sound. That is when battle tactics turn inwards.
With the amount of Grimm aware of their presence out in the open though, it isn’t the case this time. But Ruby knows why her uncle is doing this: he’s making her fall back to her training on purpose.
He’s trying to make sure she stays calm, in his own way.
She doesn’t know how to tell him that she thinks it won’t work, as detached as she is feeling right now. She knows she should be feeling more.
She should, but everything feels so… far away. Like she’s a stranger observing the events from the side.
Three heartbeats pass.
And then they are moving.
Ruby’s twirling, sundering strikes are sharp and practiced, empty shells clattering to the ground. She moves, the momentum from her bullets making her even faster, until she’s ripping through everything that’s unfortunate enough to be in her path.
She flickers up into the sky with her semblance, staring down at the horde of Grimm that snarl up at her in surprise, eyes glimmering faintly, dark hair ruffling with the cold wind.
If Weiss dies…
A dark, dangerous tremor rises in her blood.
Crescent Rose curves up and towards the sky.
And then she’s pressing the trigger to spin her back down perilously fast, the gunshot ringing in the air.
Faster, she thinks distantly.
Her scythe reaps without mercy.
Faster.
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3.
The rain.
It’s falling.
Despite that they are indoors, the sound of rumbling thunder is loud enough to reach their ears faintly.
“—the next twenty four hours will be critical,” the doctor dressed in red-stained blue scrubs says quietly. “Miss Schnee has lost a tremendous amount of blood,” she continues, “and we are still pumping heated blood into her because of the… the ice that was in her abdomen.”
Willow lets out a muffled sob into her hand. Whitley stares at the floor. Winter isn’t here, but Ruby had seen the way her tight fists had trembled before she’d left to ensure both Atlas and Mantle regain order.
“And,” the doctor hesitates. “We found some bleeding in her brain...”
Weiss may not live through the night. And even if she does, there could be complications that they won’t be able to detect until then.
Will she even wake up?
Weiss. Weiss, this is the second time now.
You promised me, Ruby wants to tell her, staring at the still figure on the bed through the window. Cords and wires are everywhere, some connected to the numerous machines, some attached to Weiss herself.
Ruby presses her forehead to the cool glass window.
Despite the barrier between them, she can still hear the faint beeps from the monitor tracking her partner’s heartbeat.
And then Yang is suddenly there, pulling her into a one-armed hug, gentle fingers — no longer stained with blood — ruffling at dark hair.
“She will be fine,” the blonde says quietly. “She will, Ruby.”
Her sister is a warm, comforting presence. Blake materialises by her other side too; the two older huntresses now huddling around her protectively in spite of the scent of smoke and dust and blood.
Gunmetal eyes close shut.
You promised.
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4.
A battle against the tin soldier ends with a robotic arm that clatters and rolls onto the floor.
This marks the end of a footnote.
Marrow glances between her and Ironwood, hesitating for a moment before stepping out of the prison. “I can buy you five minutes, Ruby. Not any longer than that.”
She manages a nod. “Thank you.”
There’s another pause and then Marrow’s touching the panel to close the door, leaving just the two of them in silence.
They stare at each other. A one-armed man still dressed in his suit, albeit far more crinkled and messier than it usually was, and Ruby on the other side of the room, with the electronic gate in between.
“Why?” Ruby asks him finally. “Why do all this at all?”
The look he levels her with from where he’s sitting on the white bench is unreadable.
“I did what I needed to do,” he says.
“You didn’t have to do any of this at all,” she refutes, a cold thrum rising in her chest.
“It’s the only way to save Atlas.”
“You wanted to save Atlas by letting Mantle perish.”
“The sacrifice would be worth it.” His gaze drops to the floor, shoulders sagging a fraction. “But I have failed. Because the one person who I thought would never betray me has done exactly that.”
Winter.
“And now,” Ironwood continues, something resigned in his features, “Now, we will all die.”
Her fist tightens. “How can it ever be worth that many lives?”
“I was justified,” he says. “Protecting Atlas is my duty.”
Her anger threatens to tip over. “Protecting Mantle isn’t?”
His blue eyes are like stone. “It’s a choice I will live with.” A low, low voice. “No matter what I do and what choices I make, sacrifice is inevitable.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You call leaving an entire city to die justified?”
Ironwood stares at her again.
“If that was justified,” she says, cold and wishing she had Crescent Rose with her, “you may as well say Salem is justified in her actions because she believes she deserves to make the call to destroy everything.”
Silence.
“You chose this,” she says quietly. “All of this. You say Winter betrayed you, but it was you who betrayed her trust. You chose to do things that go against what she believed in. You hurt her. Don’t you see that at all?”
A flicker of emotion flashes past his eyes, too quick for her to discern.
The imprisoned man is quiet for a moment. Then, “Weiss. How is she now?”
“Why do you care?” she snaps. At the back of her mind, she’s remembering what the doctor said — the activity levels in Miss Schnee’s brain waves are faint, which is extremely concerning. And unfortunately we don’t know if she will wake up —
“Winter is like a daughter to me,” James says. “And by extension, so is Weiss.”
Did he just… how could he even say that?
Anger coils in her stomach.
“No,” she tells him, dangerously soft. “I don’t believe you at all. Someone who loves his family would never hurt them like that.”
“That is a naive view.”
Her lips thin. “It’s better than your twisted view on the world.”
He just stares at her.
“You will never be forgiven for this,” she says. “For all that you’ve done.” To her friends. To the innocent. To the lives manipulated and lost. “You…” her knuckles go white. “You deserve no forgiveness.”
The gaze he levels her with is like stone. “There is no forgiveness that I need.”
And just like that, she knows. She knows. There is no changing his mind. There is nothing she can do to convince him and to make him understand what he has done and how he has hurt people. Nothing.
This… this was a lost cause. She’d wanted to try, in spite of the furious thrum in her blood, for Weiss — and for Winter by extension, whose conflicted feelings she can just see despite the mask the soldier had put on.
And for Penny. Because she trusted him too.
She… she wanted to believe.
Naive, Weiss once called her when they’d been much younger. Her partner doesn’t call her that anymore, but in place of that is something older and sadder.
“No,” she agrees softly then, stepping back and towards the door. There is nothing more that she wants to say to him. “I suppose not.”
“Just because I was trying to save Atlas doesn’t mean I was trying to hurt Winter. I trust you know that.”
She stops, but she doesn’t turn to look back at him. “By that logic you may as well say you didn’t intend to use anyone for your purpose. You can’t have it both ways.”
Ruby’s hand reaches out to touch at the panel to open the door — only to pause in her steps when he speaks again.
The door slides open with a soft whoosh.
“One day,” he says to her quietly, knowingly, “you will find yourself at a crossroad like I once was. You will learn that this is the price of leadership.”
A tremor rises in her blood. “I will never make the decisions that you made.”
There’s another pause.
And then.
“I sincerely hope you never have to, Ruby Rose.”
The door closes.
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5.
Ruby and Weiss had talked about what it meant to be partners, once, just a short while before Beacon crumbled.
“Don’t you think it’s kinda like soulmates?”
Weiss arches an eyebrow. “There is no such thing as soulmates. How did that even occur to you?”
Ruby looks away shiftily.
Her partner scowls. “You’ve been reading more of Blake’s atrocious books.”
She squints at the other. “There are some really good novels in her collection, you know. And,” Ruby dares to say in another bid to tempt her, “some that I think you would like too.”
Weiss just rolls her eyes. “I’m sure.” A hand is waved theatrically. “Go on then. Explain what you mean about soulmates being similar to partners.”
Ruby blinks, caught off guard. She hadn’t actually thought that she would be humored. “Uhh.”
“Well?” Weiss is looking expectantly at her, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of the chair she’s sitting on in their dorm — the slight upward curve by the corner of her lips is the only thing that betrays her amusement.
“Weeeell…” Ruby scratches at the back of her head, thoughts racing. “We work well together.”
The white brow arches higher.
“In combat,” she goes on to say, “you know what I would do before I actually act now and then.”
“Now and then?” her partner echoes, crossing her arms with a sniff. “Care to correct that?”
“You always know,” Ruby corrects herself, grin forming, “just like how I’d know what you were thinking of doing too.”
That’s actually not always true, because Weiss is an enigma (sometimes). But she also wants to be able to understand this mysterious, beautiful and prickly girl.
And then another thought occurs to her.
“We are about the same height,” Ruby continues, despite being aware that she’s picking out the most absurd points. They aren’t actually nonsense if they are valid, after all. “We both wear skirts, and clearly, we have a good affinity with each other because of that too.”
Weiss huffs, that hint of a smile still on her features despite the exasperation. “Ruby,” she says with meaning.
“And,” Ruby plows through, “I wear black.” She darts a finger between herself and Weiss. “You wear white. Dark hair, light hair. Red, blue. We are opposites and opposites attract, don’t they?”
Weiss just stares at her.
“Are you trying to tell me that we should be attracted to each other?”
She blinks, brain short-circuiting.
Her partner cocks an expectant brow. “Hmm?”
Uhm. This topic is going towards a direction that Ruby isn’t expecting at all. And one she hasn’t actually considered as part of the points she’s been listing in her head. “...Y-yes? I mean...”
“Such confidence,” Weiss says dryly.
But should they be attracted to each other? Could they? She stares at her partner. It does make sense, doesn’t it?
Weiss truly is beautiful, with a delicate appearance that belies the razor sharp force she wields at her fingertips.
It’s not even just that Weiss is beautiful physically. She is on the inside too, and Ruby is one of the privileged few who actually gets to see it. And, also —
“Ruby,” Weiss says again, pulling her back into the present.
She blinks.
Her exasperated partner sighs. “Where did you go this time?”
Uhh. “I didn’t go anywhere.” Ruby’s head tilts, confused.
The corner of Weiss’s lips slants up. “You did.” She leans forward, a slender finger reaching out to poke Ruby on the forehead in a gentle rebuke. “You went somewhere in here.”
She blinks more, still perplexed, going cross-eyed at the offending finger.
Weiss huffs, rolling her eyes as she retracts her hand.
Ruby stares at her partner.
“Sometimes,” Weiss says wryly then, “I do wonder if anyone can ever keep up with you. You think so fast, and so many things at once. You move just as quickly too. And then everyone else scrambles to play catch up.”
“But you do keep up with me,” Ruby says, honest.
Another smile quirks up. “I know I do.” Weiss’s confidence is both knowing and sure. But then the smile fades. “But have you considered what will happen when we graduate, Ruby?”
“We…” she hesitates. The answer is obvious, but. “We become huntresses?”
“Kill Grimm, protect people?” Weiss continues.
“...Yes?” That’s her dream. That’s what she wants. And yet, somehow, it feels like her partner is building up to something she’s not sure she understands.
There is something strangely fond and warm in Weiss’s blue eyes. “For you,” she says, “I have every confidence it will be just that.”
Ruby hesitates despite the rare compliment, sensing that the older girl isn’t done yet.
“When we graduate though,” Weiss is quiet, “you may have a different partner. You may require a different one.”
She stiffens, a sudden discomfort churning in her stomach. “Why would I require a different one?“
“I’m the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, Ruby.”
Silence.
“I have responsibilities,” there’s something gentle and far too kind about the way Weiss is saying it, and Ruby doesn’t like it. “I have… things I need to repair.”
Blake. White Fang. Faunus. The company.
Something thrums in her blood.
“You have to realize that I can’t be your partner forever,” Weiss says, soft.
“I don’t want anyone else as a partner!” Ruby bursts out. “If it’s not you, then I don’t want anyone at all!”
Weiss stares at her and there is something conflicted playing on her features. “You’re behaving like a child now,” she rebukes without heat.
“I don’t care,” Ruby insists. “It’s you or no one else at all. You — you’re my partner.” A pause, and then she tacks on recklessly, “and my soulmate!”
There is a moment where her partner just looks at her, blue eyes pensive.
“You honestly don’t think you’d take another partner?”
Sensing an opportunity, Ruby goes, “No. Never. Hundred percent never ever ever . Cross my heart and hope to die. I’ll swallow a thousand needles if I ever break that.” A white brow arches. “I will slip over banana peels for my entire life if I ever get another partner. I will never eat cookies again! I —”
“Okay, stop.” Weiss lifts both hands in surrender, huffing. “Don’t say anymore. Please. I do not want to know if there’s anything more horrifying than you not being able to eat cookies.”
Ruby just stares at her. “I mean it,” she says. “I’m not taking another partner, Weiss. I mean it.”
There’s a pause, and then Weiss sighs, sagging back into her seat a little. “I know.” Their eyes meet. “I know you mean it.”
Ruby scoots a little closer. “Cross your heart and hope to die?”
Weiss’s lips twitch.
And then she’s flicking at Ruby’s nose.
“Hey!”
This time, there is a crooked, soft smile on Weiss’s face. “You’re such a dork.”
It’s the first truly unguarded smile that Ruby has ever seen her partner give.
And she’s given it to Ruby.
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6.
Yang stares at her non-mechanical hand sometimes, a distant, haunted look in her lilac eyes.
This is exactly how Ruby finds her when she pauses by the entrance of the training center — her sister sitting cross-legged on top of those square blocks near the end, silent and still, that palm open and unstained with blood.
Blake’s here too, Ruby notices a second later.
Her teammate is already halfway across the hall, hopping up the blocks swiftly to sit by Yang’s side.
Ruby can’t hear what Blake’s saying from this far, but she can see her ears drooping before going flat against her skull. A moment later, the black-haired huntress is placing her own hand over Yang’s, intertwining their fingers together.
And then Yang is pressing a kiss to the back of Blake’s hand, lilac eyes closing shut, shoulders bowing.
It’s an intimate, private scene; not one meant for her to see.
It’s also a somber one.
Neither of them have noticed her yet though, and Ruby doesn’t want to be seen.
She takes a step back quietly. Followed by another. And another, until the door closes and she’s safely out of line of sight. Through it all, her teammates honestly hadn’t detected her.
She should be breathing a sigh of relief at that. And yet.
In her mind, she’s replaying how brittle her sister had looked. It makes something coil tight around her shoulders.
Her team is so fragile now, like the slightest touch could shatter it.
She wants to get away. She needs to get out of here.
Ruby triggers her semblance, whirling out of the hall and towards the rooftop.
The air out here is clean and cold and fresh, and the sky is a bright, bright blue.
And it’s here that Ruby lets herself sag against the door she’d closed, dropping down to the floor, curling in on herself as she wraps her arms around her legs.
Her head bows, pressing against a kneecap.
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7.
The gaze Pietro gives her is sad.
“I’m sorry,” he says, soft. “Penny… she still does not wish to meet you.”
Her shoulder drops even as she glances at the door that seems permanently shut, behind it one of her dearest friends. “It’s… it’s okay. I understand. Thank you for letting me know.”
“Ruby.”
She looks over at him.
It’s another moment before he speaks again.
“Thank you,” he says, ”for coming by everyday. And for… for still wanting to try.”
“No one blames her,” Ruby says quietly, looking away and to a side. Her shoulders feel heavy. “She’s... just a victim. Like Weiss. And like so many others.”
He’s quiet.
“And she’s my friend.” She’s remembering the moment reckless anger blinded her and she’d have angled her scythe towards Penny. “She will always be my friend.”
Another heartbeat.
“I’m glad she has a friend like you, Ruby.”
Those words stab her.
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8.
Ruby doesn’t rage.
She doesn’t cry either.
Instead, there is a detached quality around her that doesn’t quite fit.
In the hospital room, Jaune lets out a breath from where he’s sitting, finally releasing the gentle grip he has on Weiss’s limp hand — and then he’s standing, moving to take slow steps towards the entrance.
His arms cross as he leans against the doorway, blue eyes slanting to the person whose back is against the wall, next to the door.
“How long are you going to stand out here, Ruby?”
Ruby lets her head thud onto the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “How is she?”
Jaune shakes his head. “There’s no change. But the wound in her abdomen has finally healed.” A pause. “I… I don’t think there’s anything else my semblance can do to help.”
“You made sure she’s no longer in danger.” Of dying, she doesn’t say. “That’s more than any of us could’ve done, Jaune.”
“...Maybe.” His voice is soft. “But if I knew more about what my semblance can do, then maybe I could’ve done more.”
He’s not wrong, a detached part of her thinks. If he discovered his semblance earlier, he would’ve had time to learn more about it, and it potentially could have evolved. Like Ren’s.
And the thought of it…
Her eyes close.
“You’ve done everything you could,” she tells him quietly. “And Weiss…” she will keep her promise. She will. She will. “Weiss will be okay.”
There’s another pause.
And then.
“...Yeah.” Jaune’s blue eyes stare distantly at the wall. “You’re right. She’s really strong. Stronger than all of us. She will be just fine.”
But will she?
Ruby remains quiet.
“You know she knocked sense into me a while ago?” Jaune goes on to say then, something light in his voice.
“What do you mean?” Her head tilts as she glances over at the taller man.
“In Argus,” he says. “I was being dumb. After Weiss got hurt in Haven Academy, I kept thinking about it. And about Pyrrha. And... about how I couldn’t do anything.”
She stares at him, surprised.
“I thought I hid it well,” he murmurs. “I mean, I was mad at Ozpin at that time. You saw what happened then. And I felt bad about it already so I… I didn’t want to burden our group with anything else.”
“Jaune.” Ruby frowns up at him.
“I know, I know.” He gives her a sheepish look. “I was being an idiot.”
“A big one,” she tells him.
“A big one,” he agrees with a smile. “Weiss saw though. She noticed. And then she called me out on it.”
Ruby sighs. “That does sound like her.” Patching up their friends, making sure they are okay. And then not letting anyone know it’s her handiwork. Typical Weiss.
“It does, doesn’t it?” He grins. “None of us would’ve thought she’d be like that when we first met her at Beacon.”
That just makes her remember the dust accident when Weiss and her crossed paths for the first time. And that legendary explosive temper.
She huffs out a laugh.
Jaune glances at her from the corner of his eyes, lips quirked up wryly. “I wonder what she’d say if she saw us now.”
When she sees them now? It’d be a sight. War-torn, weary, tense, worried.
“She will be mad,” Ruby says softly, remembering that day in Weiss’s room at the manor when they’d almost kissed. And the heartache and sorrow etched on her partner’s face. “Really, really mad. And she’d try to set us straight.”
Jaune is quiet for a moment.
“She set you straight at some point too, didn’t she?” His tone is knowing.
Despite herself, and despite the invisible lump clogging her throat, she smiles. “That obvious?”
“Well,” he says, an oddly proud note in his voice, “I am one of her victims, after all. Mua ha ha.”
Ruby huffs out another laugh.
“She certainly got us both good,” she plays along.
But something is also coiling around her heart tightly, like an ethereal fist squeezing hard enough to make her lose her breath. Her fingers are trembling. She hides them behind her back, pressing harder against the wall, gaze dropping to the floor.
Jaune is quiet again.
“Hey, Ruby?”
“Hmm?”
He leans closer, nudging her with a shoulder.
“Don’t be the idiot I was back then,” he says. “You don’t have to take on everything alone, you know.”
“I know.” Her smile is wry this time. “She already scolded me about that.”
“Oh.” There’s another pause, and then Jaune sighs. “I guess I should’ve expected that.”
“Uh huh.”
And when Weiss wakes. If she wakes.
Ruby will tell her everything, from the things that scare her deeply to the things she really wants. The things she’s stubbornly withholding and clinging to. And her silence is worrying everyone, she knows. Yang especially. But she doesn’t want to tell any of them.
The whole package. Her heart. All of it. She will give it all to Weiss alone.
Her partner would tell her it’s a reckless decision. Reckless, insane, damaging, and the height of stupidity, because what happens if she doesn’t wake up?
The longer she lets this fester, the worse it will be. But it’s the only way that Ruby knows how to anchor herself in the present and not crumble completely.
Her eyes close.
So please.
Please wake up.
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9.
And then, without fanfare and without warning, Weiss does wake up.
The things that Ruby had been holding at bay then, the feelings that she’d shut down so desperately — they all flood back to the forefront.
She’s gasping out sobs now, pressed tightly against Weiss, feeling Blake and Yang around her; her partner winding a hand around her gently.
She can hear Weiss’ heartbeat.
She can feel the protective warmth of Blake and Yang.
The tight knot in her shoulders that had remained there for weeks is finally uncoiling — but in return, wild tremors rise in her blood, making her feel so completely out of control and breathless.
Weiss. Weiss.
She woke up. She kept her promise.
Ruby feels like a child and a younger sibling seeking comfort again, even though she hasn’t been one in a long while.
There are still so many things to take care of. It’s a list she’s mentally tallied at the back of her mind throughout these past three weeks — like Penny. Mantle, Atlas. The mystery of her silver eyes. Oscar and Ozpin. The relics. Salem. Cinder.
And the newest one — whether Weiss is really okay now despite having woken up. Because didn’t the doctor mention there could be complications?
It’s a growing and never ending list, and they all weigh down on her shoulders like heavy chains.
But at this moment, this very moment —
Her heart is unraveling and this is how she finally breaks down.
She cries.
.
.
.
10.
After.
Ruby wakes up to soft voices above her and warmth by her side.
But she does not open her eyes, drowsy as she is right now.
She wants to sleep some more.
“ — need to get back to our patrol. Nora, Ren and Jaune were covering for us when we left and they had been out there for a while.” It’s Yang. “I think it’s best we let Ruby sleep though… that alright with you, Weiss?”
Weiss’s response is wry from where she’s sitting by her side. “You say that like it’s the first time she snuck into my bed.” Ruby feels a slight movement, something that makes her think her partner is waving Yang away.
There’s a pause.
“She hasn’t been sleeping, has she?” Weiss says softly. Slender fingers are raking through her hair gently.
“She hasn’t, not really.” Blake confirms quietly. “She’s been… she wasn’t dealing with things very well. And she’s been having nightmares.”
A hand with calloused fingers tucks the blanket higher around her. “Ruby…” Her older sister sounds closer than moments ago. “Ruby doesn’t cope with loss very well. It was like this when mom died too.”
Yang sounds tired.
“But back then, she just bounced back to her usual self one day,” the blonde murmurs. “I think it was because she couldn’t bear to see our dad so sad.” A pause. “This time though...”
Despite that Ruby’s eyes remain closed, she can feel the gazes on her. It makes her shoulders go tight. Weiss stills momentarily, as if noticing the sudden movement. But it just makes her press deeper into the pillow and into Weiss’s touch.
She’s stubbornly refusing to open her eyes.
A momentary silence.
“Looks like we haven't woken her yet.” Yang sounds softer now.
It’s another pause before Weiss responds.
“Well,” she says. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere for a while. I’ll keep an eye on her and make sure she rests.”
“Thank you, Weiss.” There’s something approaching relief and gratitude in Yang’s voice. And then her voice turns lighter. “Good thing you two are tiny enough to fit into a single bed and still be comfortable, huh?”
Weiss huffs. Blake lets out a chuckle.
“Yang,” Blake says then, tugging at her partner. “Come on. We should go now. Let them rest.”
“Alright, alright.” There’s a note of laughing surrender in the blonde’s words. “Want us to tuck you in too, Weiss? Or are you planning to sit up for a while? Need more pillows?”
“You’ve stolen enough pillows from the other room.” Weiss’s tone is very dry. “And I will be fine. I have slept for too long as it is.”
“There’s a couple novels in Ruby’s scroll,” Blake says. “And… news, if you want to read up on what’s been happening.”
“Where is my scroll?”
“At the dorms.” Blake sounds further away now, footsteps growing softer and softer. Ruby could almost visualize her dragging Yang along by the elbow. “I’ll bring it the next time we come over.”
“We will be back!” Yang says, voice more cheerful than it was days ago.
“Don’t come back without a shower and some sleep!” Weiss demands after their retreating backs.
The door shuts quietly behind them.
And in the silence, her partner sighs softly.
Fingers thread through her hair.
“You’re awake, aren’t you?” Weiss sounds knowing and gentle all at once.
But Ruby doesn’t want to open her eyes, stubbornly nosing back into the soft fabric of Weiss’s pillow, cocooning herself in warmth and the solid presence of her partner.
More silence.
Then.
“Go back to sleep, Ruby.” It’s a soft command — one that she doesn’t want to rebel against.
It’s another moment before Weiss begins to hum a soft tune; the same one from that day at the manor.
And so Ruby obeys.
This time, with Weiss by her side, her sleep comes easily.
.
.
.
end interlude.
.