Renegades (Act II)

EARLY RELEASE FOR ALL MY PATRONS! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

I'm so glad people enjoyed the first act! Now that we've established the universe and the characters' relationships to one another, we can get onto the more pressing matters at hand, bit by bit.

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.

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															Act II.

Weiss woke the next morning, certain it had all been a dream.

She laid in bed on her back, staring up at the ceiling and tracing non-existent images there with her eyes, letting her mind run wild as the morning light tapped at her window, asking permission to come inside.

Weiss had dreamt before, about journeying and going down to the beach and having adventures, but this was the first time anyone else had ever been involved.

"How nice…" she murmured a bit dejectedly.

But she couldn't afford to dwell on pretty lies her mind fed her heart in the night. She was to be married in thirteen days now, and wanted to enjoy her final days when she could be her own person - as much as her father allowed, anyway.

The thought depressed her as she slipped her legs off the edge of the bed, but something that caught her eye quickly dispersed the worser thoughts.

The black ribbon tied around her foot-

She quickly jumped up and rushed to the window, leaning out onto the sill. She didn't really expect anyone to be there, and there wasn't, but she just wanted to remember…

Remember the fight from last night, how she'd jumped down.

Remember the girl she'd met - Blake - and how they'd escaped together, journeyed back together.

Remember their promise to meet again tonight.

Her heart thumped, and she bent down to untie the ribbon from her foot, hiding it away beneath her mattress, making a note to wash it later that evening when she wouldn't having anyone keeping an eye on her.

Not even her servant's uncaring call for her to get dressed and meet her father for breakfast served to thwart the excitement. Whatever happened to her during lessons today, whoever yelled at her or disregarded her existence, she didn't care.

Because she would see her again tonight.

"Blake…"

The name slipped through her lips with a smile as she scurried to her dresser and began to dig out her clothes.

...

It was probably just luck, but when she awoke the next morning Adam was gone, and the trip to the small bathroom was without an inquisitive stare. The bruise had blossomed into something quite impressive over the night, and she knew now that hiding this from Adam would be impossible.

There wasn't much she could do about it - questions would be asked, it was merely a matter of avoiding them. Though that would be impossible, too. Someone didn't just wake up with a bruise the size of a fist on their face without reason - and a pretty good reason at that.

She wasn't even sure how much of the truth she should tell. Adam had enough on his plate as is, throwing in inter-White Fang conflict would only result in stress, especially if this view of her ran deeper than she thought.

So she decided not to stay and find out, and discarded the wrinkled and torn mess that was her shirt for a simple, long-sleeved button up. It covered most of the wayward bruises and scratches, and after patching up her face and changing into sand-less pants, she headed out.

Tukson's bookstore should be opening soon if it wasn't already, and Blake couldn't think of a better place to waste away a few hours.

...

Breakfast was tense and silent as always, and Weiss played her role, never speaking unless spoken to, being seen and not heard.

However, halfway through the meal, her father glared sternly up at her from across the table, and opened his mouth to speak in his bellowing voice.

"That's enough."

Weiss paused her fork on its way to her mouth. What had she done? Was her posture anything short of perfect? There couldn't be any scratches our marks visible on her skin from last night - she'd checked countless times in her mirror and in her shower that morning.

The only things that proved last night had transpired at all were Blake's ribbon that she'd safely stashed away, and a slight, dull pain in her back from when she'd been thrown against the alley wall. But those weren't things he should be able to discover.

She looked up at him as calmly as possible.

"Pardon, Father?"

He grunted and his eyes went to her fork. "No more food. You need to lose weight before your wedding so you'll look as appealing as possible. Your meals will be cut within the days leading up to your betrothed's arrival."

Weiss obediently put down her fork. "Yes, Father."

At least she hadn't been found out.

"Additionally," he went on. "You no longer have a need for your rapier lessons. The only purpose of those activities was to build muscle on your body so you may consummate your marriage the night of the wedding and bear me a grandson as soon as possible.

"No more lessons; for the next two weeks, you shall learn from the maids how to clean, cook, and be a submissive wife for your husband. You are to give him everything he wants without question, and that includes your body. Am I clear?"

She could feel the hot tears welling up, but she forced them back.

"Yes, Father."

No other answer was permissible.

"Good." He waved to one of the maids. "Teach her how to prepare fine meals for her husband-to-be."

The maid nodded and beckoned Weiss over.

Stomach still growling, Weiss got up from her seat and followed.

...

Tukson's bookstore - Book Trade actually - was like a mid-way point between home and the outskirts distinguished by the Schnee mansion. A quaint, but reasonably-sized establishment, and on off days she'd spend hours hidden among bookshelves reading the newest arrival hot off the press.

Tukson ran his business thoroughly, and knowing him gave her special privileges she took advantage of. He didn't particularly seem to mind. Being ex-White Fang himself and supposedly close to her parents, Blake knew he'd prefer her huddled between the shelves reading than out doing Fang business.

He was also a Faunus, and while it hindered work, he tried not to show it. His store was usually empty as a result and today was no different.

When she walked in he smiled wide and greeted her with the same gruff voice she had come to see as almost parental. Tukson clearly thought of her in similar ways, and therefore she shouldn't have been all that surprised to see his smile fade quickly when the state of her face made itself apparent.

"Blake, what-"

She reached for a book, one of the new arrivals, and held it up to him.

"Look," she said, voice unrealistically happy. "I've been waiting to read this for ages."

Going by the scowl tilting Tukson's lips, he didn't believe her one bit.

"Blake." His voice was admonishing, and her ears flattened, shoulders rising slightly. He sighed, looking away to organize the counter. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, just-" he exhaled loudly. "-be careful, all right?"

She hummed her acknowledgement with a nod, throwing him a weary smile that made her cheek sting. He sighed again, rubbing his neck, but before long he was gesturing to her favorite spot with a tilt of his head, his smile returning.

"Let me know if it's any good, yeah?"

The book was about sacrifice, about leaving things behind and the pain that bled up as a result.

The hours passed by slowly.

...

She followed the maids around all day, learning how to be a housewife. They told her which detergents to use to clean what with, how to dust the shelves and mop the floors.

At midday she was permitted to eat, but only a single red apple, and though she knew the sustenance should have quenched her acrid throat and filled a bit of the vacant hollow of her stomach, it only served to make her hungrier, the taste - bitter.

In the afternoon, she learned more about cleaning the house and doing laundry, among other tasks she would need to perform. She observed them cooking and preparing dinner, and they instructed her on how she was to make her husband's food and serve him first and foremost, and that she was only allowed to eat if he invited her to sit down and do so.

After her measly supper of thin, flavorless soup - just when she'd thought she was free - one of the maids took her aside and had her sit on the couch in the living room.

"Now, it's unlikely you'll be as successful as Winter was with her marriage last year, but you'll have to be at least decent with it. All of these tasks aren't the only things you'll be responsible for," she warned Weiss. "You'll also have to perform for him in bed. Whatever he wants, you do it. And you are to bear him at least two sons; you will keep having children until you manage that much."

She went on and on, and all Weiss could do was nod her head, though she could feel her spirit breaking more and more with every passing minute.

When it was over, she returned to her room, prepared to cherish her body for one of the last few days it would be her own.

She showered and changed into her nightgown, and only then did she go to her mattress and pull out the black ribbon, the disheartening events of the day having almost made her forget about her meeting tonight with Blake.

She brought the ribbon to the sink in her private bathroom and ran it under warm water, lathering it with soap before patting it dry with a towel.

She then went to her window, opened it slowly, and peered outside. It was still a bit before sunset, so she didn't expect Blake to be there yet. So Weiss pulled a chair over, tied the ribbon around her wrist, and sat beside the sill to breathe in the cool, evening air.

When the soft sobs began to shake her, she held her arm and the ribbon over her face and closed her eyes, praying that seeing Blake would make her forget.

...

Blake left Tukson's at sunset. He didn't say a word when she placed the book back on the shelf and said her goodbyes - he simply smiled, a large toothy grin that caused his eyes to crinkle around the edges. There was a hesitance in it, and the wave she sent back his way was stiff and awkward, but she wasn't about to tell him what she was up to if she could help it.

The streets crowded in the heart of town, congealing into packs that cluttered the sidewalks. They dwindled the farther east she went, and by the time she quietly slipped onto the road by the Schnee mansion, the sun had almost disappeared as well. The alley was dark, but empty, making the window just above the fire escape look like it was glowing.

Weiss was there, Blake could see her, and the instinct to call out seemed almost natural.

It was the soft sobs that made her hesitate, words catching in her throat, and she swallowed around them, ears flattening. She reached for the ladder, hands latching onto the rusted metal after a small jump, and she pulled herself up.

It wasn't until she was just outside the window, uncertain if she should move closer, that she spoke up.

"Are you all right?"

...

Weiss sniffled and swallowed again and again, each brush of her nightgown's sleeve over her eyes only serving to make the damp spots wetter. She told herself she shouldn't be crying, because Blake would be here soon, Blake would come and be with her and make her forget the awful things…

She jumped in her chair when a tentative voice spoke just a few feet shy of her ear. Weiss squeaked and quickly slapped a palm to her mouth as she looked up sharply.

"B-Blake!" she whispered. Her appearance was like a miracle to Weiss; she'd shown up just in time to stop her from breaking completely.

But what now?

"A-Ah…" She wiped her eyes clean as she thought quickly. She couldn't just leave Blake out there like that. And what if someone caught sight of a person - a Faunus - sneaking into the mansion window?

"C-Come in, quickly!" she urged her, reaching out to brace Blake's hands in hers. She supported the Faunus girl's side as she stepped onto the window sill and landed as lightly as a cat inside.

No one else would be coming into her room tonight, and if they were, they would knock to give warning. So… surely having Blake here for a while could work out?

But would Blake really want to be inside the place where a family of Faunus-oppressing people lived?

Weiss let go of her arms and stepped back, searching Blake's face for any signs of discomfort. But something else caught her eye instead.

"Y-You're hurt!" she cried softly. "Was this from last night?" She reached up with the hand that had the ribbon tied around it, brushing her fingers over the purplish bruise on her cheek with gentle care.

It was only the second time she'd ever met her, so why did Weiss feel the overwhelming urge to hug her, for both of their sakes?

Weiss' arms reached up without her consent and made a move to wrap around the taller girl's neck and shoulders, but she caught herself just before she could make contact and took a step back.

"I… I washed your ribbon," she murmured, pulling the knot loose from her wrist. She didn't want to give it back, wanted to keep it as a memory of Blake, wanted to use it as an excuse for Blake to come back again tomorrow. But she knew she couldn't.

She held it out to her, other hand clutching at the fabrics of her nightgown as she took a deep, steadying breath. There was so much on her mind now, she never realized she hadn't answered Blake's question.

...

Blake was urged into the room before she had the chance to think things over, the apprehension settling moments later as she took in the spacious bedroom. It was bigger than her apartment with Adam, and the look of bafflement that spread over her face was impossible to stop.

She knew the Schnee family was rich and the mansion was obvious proof of that, but… this was on another level entirely.

A soft touch to her face pulled her back, and she recoiled slightly out of habit. The small sting of pain that flared up as a result was brief, but there had been no ill intent, simply concern, so she smiled.

"I'm fine. It's just a bruise."

But as the seconds passed, the puffiness of Weiss' cheeks, the redness of her eyes, had Blake frowning. She remembered last night, the weariness she had seen in Weiss' eyes at the mention of home. It was disconcerting, and she opened her mouth to repeat herself.

"Are you-"

The words died as she watched Weiss untie the ribbon - her ribbon - from around her wrist and offer it back, the accompanying words a murmur.

There was nothing certain about Weiss' actions - the way her other hand clutched at the fabric of her nightgown, the deep, steadying breaths. Something wasn't right, but Blake had no idea how to go about fixing it. If it was even her place to fix it - so she accepted the ribbon with wordless gratitude.

Blake tilted her head, tried to catch the attention of blue, and when she failed, the same words slipped out again.

"Are you all right?"

...

She sighed when Blake took her ribbon back. There was nothing tying her to Weiss now, no existing reason for her to ever return. She could slip out the window, down the ladder, and into the night like a shadow if she so desired.

But she never did.

Weiss was almost confused as to why Blake had stayed until the girl asked again, the same query she'd spoken a moment ago.

The heiress bit her lip. She was aware that Blake probably wouldn't care about her wellbeing-

-but then again, if she didn't care, why would she have asked?

Weiss didn't look up as she grasped the girl's hand and led her over to the bed to sit, never letting go even after they'd settled.

"I'm fine," she murmured unconvincingly, giving a faint smile. "I'm… I'm to be married in two week's time. Less than that now. I'm simply going through training now of how to be a proper wife to my future husband. It's just a bit taxing, that's all."

She needed to stop herself there. Blake was a stranger and probably didn't care to know any more about one of the Schnee daughters.

Weiss made sure to keep a bit of distance between them, lest she break and do something she'd regret, something that would chase Blake away for good.

She then looked up and put effort into the smile this time.

"I'm glad you're here, Blake. Really."

She wanted Blake to know she was welcome here.

Always.

At least to Weiss.

...

It wasn't like she needed to know, it was more of a want than anything else, one Blake couldn't really match with a reason even if she tried.

If she had to guess, it had something to do with Weiss' words, her nearly blatant lies and a shell of a smile. She didn't need to hear the pulse of Weiss' heart - a heavy thudding beat that betrayed more than she let on - but in a way it all seemed familiar.

Not so much the circumstances - Blake would never be able to understand the trials of the upper class, didn't want to - but she knew the feeling. Of being trapped and having nowhere to go despite wanting to - aching for that escape.

Whatever was keeping Weiss here it must have been important, or at least damning enough where she didn't have a choice. The displeasure and fear were hard to miss.

That didn't make this conversation any easier. What did she do but show up to retrieve her ribbon? Sure, there had been something curling in her stomach since this morning, though she had been telling herself it was simply anxiety. The Schnee mansion gave her the chills, its very foundation was built upon Faunus oppression, and yet… Weiss didn't seem like that at all.

"It's nothing. Really."

It didn't sound as confident as she felt.

...

Blake's response to her words was short and gave nothing away, and Weiss couldn't blame her for being cautious, not revealing anything she didn't have to, not offering any part of herself that wasn't already made obvious to the eye. Weiss interpreted her lack of words as disinterest, and her heart sank even more than she thought was possible.

Absentmindedly, she looked to the window, still ajar, beckoning for Blake to go back to it. Maybe Weiss should let her.

She looked to the floor, down into her lap, then up to the ceiling as she took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears down as she felt them rising up once more.

"You… You can go, if you'd like," she said softly. "I know you probably don't want to stay here any longer than you have to. Thank you for taking care of me last night. If I ever… see you again, I'm in your debt."

For various reasons, she didn't think she ever would.

In the end, she could only bow her head, eyes tracing the outline of Blake's boots, never daring to stray any higher than her lap or the hands in them.

Weiss didn't want her to go. She wanted someone to stay with her, to listen to her, to help her-

-and yet she didn't think it could be just anyone. She wanted Blake.

A loud howl from her stomach served to push her over the edge in embarrassment, and she couldn't stop the tears anymore. She brought her hands to her face, feeling nothing but sheer frustration and helplessness, and a bitter taste rose up in her throat.

She hated it. She wanted to stop, but she couldn't, and that only made her more frustrated, and the vicious cycle caused more tears that she had no hopes of stopping to well up and spill out.

. . .

'I'm fine.'

What a load of garbage that was. Nobody who was 'fine' came apart like that, and the sight had Blake's insides twisting.

Something was incredibly wrong here - it was a matter of whether or not she wanted to get involved. The problems probably ran deeper than she could ever guess, demons lodged between the bones and muscle that would take more than just precision and skill to remove, if they could be at all.

But Weiss had helped her last night - saved her from more than just a beaten face and wounded pride. It was that budding sense of familiarity growing in her side, a misplaced need, meant to fill in for the dwindling presence of Adam in her life.

At what point did it become normal? At what point was it more than just gratitude?

She looked to Weiss, to the window, and then back again.

"Come out with me."

The words slipped out before she had a chance to think them over and she gaped at her own boldness, face flushing.

"I mean… I-I know a good place for food." She looked away. "If you want to."

. . .

When Blake's eyes traveled to the window, Weiss felt the hollow claws of loneliness scraping at the inside of her chest, and she bit back a sob.

Weiss couldn't even feel excitemed about Blake's asking her to slip away with her, as the content of what she had said had the heiress gasping aloud nothing short of terrified, head snapping up as she held her hands to her mouth.

"Oh no, no I-I can't-" she whispered. "I mean I'd-I'd love to spend more time with you somewhere, a-anywhere but here, but I can't go out! If anyone recognized me outside at this hour unattended, Father would find out and he'd be very upset with me a-and I can't let that happen, not again-"

The words just kept coming, spilling out between soft gasps and tumbling down along with the tears. Weiss clutched frantically at her nightgown once more.

"I-I can't go out. Everyone in these parts knows who I am and they'd tell Father they saw me out with someone not of the household." She blinked away more tears and tried to meet Blake's eyes. "And I can't eat anymore than Father allows o-or else I won't be… I won't be a pretty wife. I'll won't be perfect. I can't eat anymore today. I can't…"

Her hands went back up to her face and she shook her head. "I-I'm sorry. I want to more than anything Blake, but I-I just can't…"

. . .

The words became more and more absurd the longer Weiss continued, and Blake couldn't help the crease to her brow. She almost couldn't comprehend what she was hearing, but the way Weiss said it left no room for doubt, and it only made Blake angrier. What kind of father withheld food from his own daughter and actually had her believing it was for her own wellbeing?

"That's abuse," Blake stated, voice shaking, and her hands twisted in her lap. "Just because he's your father doesn't mean he can control you like that."

Not that she had a right to say so. She had only known Weiss for a few hours and what little she had to go on concerning family matters were what she had gathered from reading the paper. Apparently, there was a lot left unsaid.

. . .

Weiss flinched at the word; she'd never thought of it that way, though deep down in some part of herself, she knew it was exactly that. But it still scared her.

"No he's… I just have to be a good wife to whomever he chooses for me. I want to make him proud, so I-I'll do this…" She took a deep breath, wiping her eyes again. "I can do it. Once I'm married, I'll have to cook for my husband. I'll get to eat then as much as he permits."

She bowed her head solemnly. "That's not… the worst part. I'm scared about other things, what he'll make me do in his bed at night…"

She leaned back on her palms, looking up at the ceiling to keep the tears back, her voice nothing more than a murmur. "So that's why… these last few days, I just want to be my own person." Her eyes finally met Blake's, bleary as her vision was. "And I'd like to… spend some time with you, if I may."

Even if it was only for tonight. Even it if was only for a few more minutes.

She just wanted to be with someone who wasn't about to judge her or yell at her or hurt her. She could tell Blake wasn't capable of such things, and even if she was she'd never do them to Weiss.

And it wasn't simply a feeling she had; last night was proof enough, as was her gentle concern for Weiss at present.

It felt like a last request, and in a way, perhaps it was. But if she could be with this girl a little longer, Weiss could feel a bit better.

. . .

A few days of freedom left, but in the scheme of things, that freedom wasn't willingly given, merely sought. A temporary appease to hide what would come after, and perhaps to Weiss that would make it all worth it. What else did she know of life but this - this room, this house, its people?

Blake couldn't see anything wrong with indulging her. It would give her a reason to be out of the apartment, away from Adam and the rest of the Fang. None of them would suspect where she'd be and who she was with, probably wouldn't believe it even if she told them.

So what was a handful of days? She had been looking for a momentary reprieve since things had started to sour, and now it was being presented for her taking. It would be stupid to ignore it.

Though there was something inherently cruel about showing someone the world only for it to be taken away, but Blake pushed those thoughts aside.

She was returning a favor, that was all. What happened after it was fulfilled wasn't her problem.

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

. . .

Weiss finally got ahold of herself to the best degree she could manage, the tears coming to a stop as she wiped at them one last time. She fiddled with the ends of her hair for a moment to try and get some iota of composure back.

Blake… Blake agreed to stay with her…

She almost couldn't believe it. It was like a dream.

"Ah…" In her surprise, she couldn't think of an answer right away - she was still in shock that Blake hadn't denied her. "T-Then, come with me."

She stood, ushering Blake to the window again, holding up a finger in a silent request for her to wait inside.

Weiss stood herself up on the sill, balancing as she supported herself against the frame, leaning cautiously out until she could grasp the fire escape's ladder. She looked back to Blake, feeling a tiny smile trying to form on her lips.

"We can go up to the roof. No one will be checking my room until morning, and we can't be seen if we're up there. We can also speak at a normal volume; the echoes won't reach the alleyways… I'll go up first," she offered.

This was the extent of her knowledge of the world when she was unsupervised - at least until last night when she'd tumbled down to the beach with Blake. But other than that, Weiss would sometimes sneak onto the roof on warm clear nights to watch the stars for a while until she knew sleep was coming and she had to teeter back down to her room to let it take her.

She'd climbed up this ladder before, and her experience showed with her stride and grip as she pulled herself up now, her feet finding solid support beneath her. Once at the top, she stayed low, crouching over the edge and peeking down, prepared to help Blake if she needed it.

. . .

Her ears twitched, turning to catch the words as Weiss moved towards the window. She followed silently, stopping when Weiss held up a finger signaling her to wait.

The roof? That seemed… oddly appropriate.

Weiss' motions were practiced, and Blake peered out the window to watch as she disappeared up the ladder with surprising finesse. Only once she was all the way up did Blake reach for the first rung, pulling herself up with ease.

The air was clearer up here, and the first breath Blake took was more than refreshing. There was no smoke, no sewage, just clear sky and fresh air.

But the view.

The view left her speechless.

. . .

Weiss breathed a sigh of relief when Blake climbed safely up beside her, and the heiress made room for her. There was plenty of space up here, and it was level, the slants in the structure far enough away not to pose a threat to them.

They were on the opposite side of the house from where the beach was located, but it was still visible from here. The nostalgic scent of salt was strong on the air, but at night it was cool and refreshing - not at all stifling.

She would come up here during the daytime if not for the fact that she would burn and her skin would show evidence of where she'd been. Early on, Weiss had discovered it was best to come here under cover of night.

She sat back, leaning her weight on her palms beside Blake, gazing out over the vast expanse of the dark ocean. The rhythmic sounds of lapping waves reached her ears, slow and methodical like a lullaby.

She watched the combers rise and reach out to kiss the sand, crashing softly, dragging back, the black sky overhead dappled with white stars. The moon hung like a plump cat's claw, shedding silver light down on them like last night.

And just like last night, Weiss found her eyes straying to the side, tracing the outline of Blake's figure, her hair, her perked ears. She looked so beautiful and it took a great deal of conscientiousness for Weiss not to say so aloud.

She… wanted Blake to talk - about anything - but she didn't want to ask and come across as rude. So Weiss kept her eyes forward on the distant water and kept her voice low.

"It's nice, isn't it?"

. . .

"It's beautiful," she breathed, words a sigh on the breeze.

There was something inherently simple about it, something passing and temporary, and she didn't want to look away.

Everything was almost colorless, gray in the evening light. High above the roof line, shadows were cast in broad strokes. It was an inky murkiness that was damning when looking up from the streets, but from their vantage point, that blackness interrupted by bits of checkered light seemed almost livable.

Everything was small and insignificant, and to Blake right now, that was strangely comforting.

The ocean's roar was soft in the distance - familiar - and Blake leaned back, letting the tenseness ease from her limbs. Her ears flicked lightly, adjusting to the sounds but focusing on nothing in particular. There was no need to; it was just the two of them.

. . .

There was a sacred simplicity about it all, and Weiss never wanted it to end, never wanted the sun to rise again. Why couldn't time just freeze like this? They didn't need words or touch or anything else; just presence was enough.

After a while, Weiss laid down on her back slowly and easily, almost carefree, as though she'd known Blake her entire life, enough to trust her with her exposed stomach and neck. Weiss didn't want to speak and ruin the moment, but she needed to be heard on one point.

"Please don't let me fall asleep," she murmured.

She gazed up at the sky and it was like its own velvet ocean, stars sparkling just as much as the waves below did in the moonlight. She folded her hands over her stomach and traced whatever constellations she could find, connecting the stars, painting pictures with her eyes.

And despite what she'd said, she couldn't keep her eyelids up for very long. They fluttered shut, and she told herself it would just be for a minute. And then her breathing slowed with sleep, the beats of her heart becoming fainter as the troubles of the day slipped out of her mind, and her mind slipped into a realm of stillness.

. . .

Blake wasn't sure how long it had been before she realized Weiss had fallen asleep beside her. She was so used to silence that it only seemed natural when the conversation had whittled off into nothing. She accepted it as inevitable even after the warning fazed through her ears and was soon forgotten.

It was when sudden curiosity struck that she glanced to her side and she found Weiss practically out cold. She couldn't blame her - after the things Weiss had told her, Blake wasn't surprised to find her under so easily, though what that meant in terms of trust was something unexpected. Perhaps the lack of thought was just due to stress, but even so it left Blake feeling rather flattered. Her ears flattened, embarrassed.

She was staring, that much was obvious.

The redness to Weiss' face had disappeared, a temporary peace settling in sleep, and the change was more than welcome. The displeasure from earlier had been unsettling to say the least.

Still, Weiss had asked her to do this, and after a moment Blake reached a hand across, fingertips gently prodding Weiss' shoulder. Blake cleared her throat.

"Weiss."

The name sounded odd on her tongue, but not entirely unpleasant.

. . .

Weiss often remembered when she dreamed - usually she woke up feeling exhausted, as though she'd been running endlessly in her sleep. They weren't nightmares, per se, but she sometimes wished they were, wished they were blatantly terrifying scenarios and monsters to run from. Instead, she often woke up feeling like she'd just barely avoided drowning.

But not this time.

It wasn't for very long, but it was for long enough she slept on the rooftop beside Blake, and when the tentative fingers brushed over her shoulder, Weiss opened her eyes to find herself feeling pleasantly-rested. She felt as though Blake had watched over her in her short slumber; it was a foolish thought, but Weiss indulged herself in it nonetheless.

"Mm…"

She pushed herself up, wiping her eyes and remembering where she was. The moon had shifted slightly overhead, and her eyes traveled instantly to Blake.

"Thank you for waking me. I'm sorry I fell asleep." She bit her lip and swallowed. "I… I hope you don't have to be somewhere? If you do, then please go."

Don't go.

She shook her head, nodding to Blake to indicate it was more than all right if she left.

"I don't want you getting in trouble. I guess I should… get back to my room as well."

Maybe I can see you again tomorrow?

It was hard not to say it aloud. It was hard not to ask Blake to stay beside her now until the sun rose-

-but it was hard to look away from her captivating, golden eyes.

. . .

She thought of Adam, that small empty apartment, and the words came out almost instantly.

"Not particularly." Blake attempted a smile, but the pain in her cheek meant it didn't last very long, and when it withered completely, she looked away. "Home is…" Not really home anymore.

Blake cleared her throat, searching for something to finish with. "Home is a little awkward right now." She could feel her shoulders tensing, and she tried to roll it off as a shrug. "So I've got some time to kill."

Standing carefully, she dusted of her pants. Maybe she could head back to Tukson's, spend the night curled up in the extra armchair. Adam wouldn't be back anyway.

"But don't let me keep you here. I don't want your father to…" She trailed off when she caught the attention of Weiss' eyes. Her hand rose, pushing back black hair as she tried to focus. "I don't want you to get caught."

. . .

Weiss felt a pang in her heart when Blake cut off speaking about her home. The heiress understood all too well - her home wasn't exactly home, either. She'd never once called it that, only ever saying she was "going back", but never "home."

She and Blake were alike in that sense. She felt a bit more miserable in knowing not even Blake had a place where she could relax and feel safe, but at least they were in that together, and that somehow brought a small sense of ease.

Well, there was one place Weiss found she felt safe, but that place was about to disappear along with her companion.

She stood as well, limbs still a bit stiff and wobbly from sleep. More than anything, she wanted to invite Blake back to her room again, invite her to stay the night even, but Weiss instantly scolded herself for such thoughts.

Never! That's far too dangerous for her. How stupid…

"Maybe…" Her voice was soft, but she held Blake's gaze directly, wanting her to know she was serious about what she was offering. "Maybe you could stop by again tomorrow night? Whenever you can. My window will always be open for the next twelve nights. So don't ever hesitate to come by, if you'd like. I can't promise I'll be very entertaining, but… I want to know more about you, Blake."

There. She'd said it. And if Blake turned away from her now and never came back, Weiss understood, but at least she'd said it aloud.

. . .

Weiss' words were nothing if not an invitation. Blatant and to the point, they made Blake's cheeks flush, a light pink that was hopefully hidden by the bruise and limited lighting. She had kind of already assumed she'd be coming back, but it was another thing to be asked, and her ears flicked, the hand in her hair dropping to rub at her neck.

"Maybe."

But Blake already knew she'd be back. The small tease had simply slipped out on its own, and she hoped the smile was enough to convince Weiss that it wasn't intended maliciously. It just came out naturally.

Her hand dropped, and she looked away, trying to hide the growing smile that seemed insistent on staying.

. . .

Weiss fidgeted nervously as she waited for an answer, and looked up sharply when she got it.

Maybe? So does that mean she's… not coming back...?

She'd heard the word before, knew its ambiguity often signified denial more than anything else.

But when her eyes met Blake's again, she knew that wasn't the case.

Blake was smiling kindly, and Weiss understood that her answer was the one she gave only because Blake didn't want to make promises she couldn't know for certain she'd keep. Weiss was so thankful for that.

"Okay," she said with a nod. "Okay!" She said it again louder, as if to prove to herself it was real. "Okay then! Maybe… Maybe see you tomorrow!"

She probably sounded too excited, but she didn't care.

However, before Blake could make for the ladder and likely slip off into the night, Weiss wanted to do one last thing. She closed the distance between them and strained up onto her bare tip-toes.

"May I?" she checked softly.

There wasn't a refusal, perhaps there was even an inviting inclination of her head, but Blake didn't push her away.

So Weiss pressed a gentle - gentle - kiss to her bruised cheek, emitting the slightest bit of her aura along with it.

She pulled away shortly afterward and smiled.

"There. I hope you rest well tonight. And I'll see you tomorrow, Blake." She chuckled to herself before she added, "Maybe."

It would definitely be something she could look forward to.

. . .

The brief look of apprehension that spread through Weiss' features almost had Blake believing that perhaps she had said the wrong thing, but it disappeared as her meaning made itself apparent. It was enough to see the excitement spread across Weiss' face.

Blake's smile softened, ears flicking as she watched Weiss with a hint of curiosity. There was so much to see, to figure out, and in her haze she nodded numbly to Weiss' question, not quite sure what was being asked, but she figured it wasn't anything bad.

And it wasn't.

It was a soft press of lips to her cheek. Gentle. The barest of touches against the bruise that blossomed across the side of her face. Warm, and when Weiss pulled away, any semblance of thought went with her. The tips of her fingers unconsciously brushed over her cheek, her mind blank.

Maybe. She could live with maybe.

. . .

She watched Blake with amusement and wonder alike. She wasn't sure what it was exactly that she felt, but it was undeniably something good in a cruel unforgiving world.

She can't remember the last time she'd felt this way. Or if such a time had ever existed at all.

Only when she realized they were still on the roof and that their newfound relationship was hardly permissible by any means did Weiss step away.

"I'll go first," she murmured, and like a spirit slipped past Blake. She climbed back down the ladder until she was near enough to her window sill to jump on lightly. She wasn't even hungry anymore, just happy.

She turned back to watch Blake climbing down, pausing her when she neared Weiss' window so the heiress may reach out to brush her fingers over the back of the Faunus girl's hand, just to get one last feel of her warmth, and let her own linger there.

"Goodnight," Weiss whispered.

And once Blake had gone, she retreated to her bed and slept deeply until morning.

---------

A/N: Limited time, but it's time nonetheless, isn't it?

Preview for Act III : The roads were mostly quiet, back alleys and streets that didn't, under many circumstances, cross the main roads. There were a few occasions, but under the guise of night, work-weary pedestrians didn't pay much attention to two girls, and Blake was careful enough to steer them clear of trouble.

Weiss' fascination didn't escape her notice. It was a certain child-like wonder that lit up her eyes as Weiss took in her surroundings when she thought no one was watching.