Step By Step (ch5)

2-DAY EARLY RELEASE FOR ALL MY PATRONS!

At the time, my friend and I wanted to do some drama, so this was what we ended up with; really cliche drama, but it was for the fluff! I swear!

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.

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														Chapter 5. Resurfacing

Her sleep was deep.

Weiss felt like she was drifting through an ocean, crystal clear as the waves rocked her back and forth carefully, lulling her through the combers. The water was warm, and she smiled as she floated, letting the current take her anywhere.

She didn't notice when it started to trickle over her, drop by drop, coaxing her under.

The waves were silent as they gradually swept over her, again and again, drowning her gently, in a way where she never even realized what was happening. Perhaps she even accepted it. She was just so tired…

Under she went, until she was looking up at the surface, but unable to reach it.

It was too late when she realized she couldn't breathe.

. . .

Pyrrha hadn't really held someone who was sleeping before. She had looked after sleeping family members and she had held her old childhood dog in her lap, but neither of those compared to this.

The tranquility of the moment, the serenity of the scene she found herself in, the peace of what was happening…

It would have been perfect.

Were it not for the unsettling feeling creeping into her stomach that she tried to push away, Pyrrha may never have noticed that the soft rhythm of Weiss' breathing had hitched.

It was the uncertainty of that feeling that caused Pyrrha to glide her fingers up Weiss' back and press them against her neck, and she would be thankful that she did. Her pulse was weak.

Panic, fear, worry, everything surged up at once, threatening to overtake her and overrun her senses of logic and reason. She felt as if a dark cloud was smothering her, preventing her from acting.

But Pyrrha wasn't a girl who always thought her actions over, and her instincts took over without a second to waste.

Her arms unhooked Weiss' and rolled the heiress face-up onto the bed, making sure to move the pillow out of the way so that her neck wouldn't be at risk. Pyrrha's mouth was set in a thin line and her eyes were fraught with a rising terror.

She didn't know if it was her memory or her gut that told her to apply CPR to her friend's breathless body, but that's what she did. She was scared. Scared to push on Weiss' chest too hard, scared of breaking her ribs, scared of not doing the right thing when she couldn't afford to make a mistake.

But most of all, Pyrrha was scared of losing her.

She wasn't thinking anymore, her words were more to reassure herself than the unconscious girl in front of her.

"Please Weiss, stay with me. Don't leave. I've got you. You're going to be okay." She began pumping her chest firmly, over and over. "I promise… Please…"

. . .

Weiss would've liked to simply succumb to it all, the soothing flow of the waves that carried her along-

-dragged her down.

So long as she could be still, Weiss didn't think to care if she was awake or not.

Unfortunately, she didn't realize all of this wasn't simply just a dream. It was all too real, and she could do nothing to help herself.

There was a sharp, powerful impact on her chest, and the image that it brought to her mind was of herself, floating tranquilly only to have a rock dropped on top of her. Bubbles flew up from her lips, but still she couldn't draw breath.

Another hit to her chest, and she gasped, but again, nothing came from it, no crucial air finding its way into her lungs.

And yet, every rock that hit her didn't push her deeper down; somehow, they helped elevate her toward the surface, bit by bit.

But she was so far down, she needed air and she needed it faster than this…

Despite the blows to her chest, whatever vision she'd had faded before long, the bubbles of her stolen breath rising up to the surface and out of her reach.

. . .

This wasn't like the training she received. They always woke within the first minute.

Pyrrha didn't know exactly how many minutes it had been since Weiss had stopped breathing, but it was longer than one.

And no matter how much she tried to think - to focus, to concentrate on one thing - her mind never allowed her that luxury. Her head was spinning, her thoughts racing between self-doubts of her memory and images of what would happen if she weren't acting perfectly.

She never wanted to imagine Weiss suffering like this, in such danger.

But even amongst her frantic sea of swirling emotions - atop the ever-growing fear grasping her heart like a claw and the immense shadow cast by her own worries - one thing was clear:

This wasn't working.

Pyrrha didn't have time to think. She couldn't afford to wait. She had one chance, and it would decide Weiss' fate.

The burden was heavy. Heavier than anything Pyrrha had ever carried. It weighed on her heart as well as her head, but something inside her - deep inside the twisted roots of doubt, beyond the thorns that threatened to draw blood every time she strayed near them - willed her to act.

There was no other choice.

She had never tried it before, but she was in no position to hesitate. She took one look at Weiss' peaceful face, all too painfully aware that it may be the last time if she didn't do this correctly. Her eyes closed and her lips barely parted, beads of sweat trickling across her skin…

Pyrrha took a deep breath and leaned over, holding Weiss' cheek with one hand and coaxing her lips open as her head moved down. She felt the warmth against her mouth and released her breath, gifting it to Weiss in the hopes that it could reignite the fire inside her that was so nearly snuffed out.

Her chest tightened with both fear and strain, yet Pyrrha still held the heiress steady with her lips. There was only one window for this to work, and she prayed to every deity she knew of that she had chosen the right one.

. . .

Each press to her chest was getting weaker, less effective. Weiss was faintly aware that something was… trying to help her back up to the surface, but it wasn't working. She tried to remember how to breathe on her own, but nothing came of it.

Why was she always so helpless?

She… didn't want to give up. She wanted to breathe again.

Past the shrouded swirl of turmoil, she remembered someone was waiting for her.

And then her lips were parted, and a heavy rush of air forced its way into her lungs.

Weiss jolted, and the image of the ocean around her faded. She felt the softness of her bed again, heard someone else's breath, smelled a familiar scent-

-tasted warm lips against her own.

Weiss' entire body shuddered as Pyrrha's breath flew into her. The heiress gasped loudly, and it was high-pitched and fast, desperate and shallow, sounds she'd never made before in all her life.

Weiss felt her body jerk, spasming with pained breaths as she coughed again and again, wheezing as she rolled over onto her side - chest heaving, heart pounding. Tears poured down her cheeks in rivulets, and she trembled almost convulsively.

It had felt like years since she'd last breathed, and even though it hurt so much, she was thankful it was happening at all.

. . .

It was only the subconscious concern for Weiss' safety that prevented Pyrrha from pulling the heiress into the tightest hug she had ever given and never letting go. Somehow, Pyrrha controlled her urges. Weiss needed to breathe, no matter how badly Pyrrha wished to hold her close.

Instead, all she could do was to shift a little further across the sheets and place a hand on Weiss' shoulder, doing her best not to intrude onto the space that Weiss so very needed right now.

Every cough hurt her ears. Every choked cry sent another spike through her heart, and seeing her shake like this, so weak and helpless…

Pyrrha could feel them. The tears. They rushed to her eyes, for both her own fears lifting - the happiness replacing doubts and worries - and for Weiss.

Pyrrha knew her well enough to say without any hesitation that Weiss was far from helpless.

But she also knew that right now, she really was defenseless.

Her voice cracked, but she didn't care.

"Weiss…I'm sorry…"

. . .

The coughs didn't stop, nor did the tears or the shaking-

- but nor did her breathing.

She panted with open-mouthed gasps, desperate and needy. When her eyes managed to flash open briefly, she saw Pyrrha sitting there and instantly knew what must have happened; or at least who had saved her.

Weiss blinked one eye open and rolled onto her back once more, still coughing as she reached her arms up like a helpless child. Between some of the coughing, there was a second for her voice to slip through, broken as it was after everything she'd been through.

"P-Pyrr…ha-"

She needed to feel that embrace again, that warmth, that support. Weiss feared she'd crumble without it, or at the very least her heart would explode without something to keep it steady.

Her eyes closed again as the coughs returned full-force, and Weiss was forced to lower her arms and whimper a plea:

"Please…"

She hoped it was enough.

. . .

Every fiber of her being was urging her to do exactly as she wanted. Exactly as Weiss wanted. Even if Pyrrha refused to act by her own desires, she could never refuse Weiss.

Her eyes shook with so many emotions, so violent and powerful as they fought for control over her heart, her lips quivered and she bit back the lump in her throat. There was no questioning what she would do.

Her back fell against the pillow and her arms snaked under Weiss' own, giving the heiress the support she so desperately needed, while also giving her free reign to position herself in any way she wanted. It didn't matter how Weiss wanted to rest; Pyrrha would help her get there and hold her for as long as she could.

How badly she wanted to speak, to give verbal reassurance that she was going to be okay - regardless of how that had turned out the last time, no words ever made it from her mouth. But Pyrrha didn't care.

. . .

She felt herself being lifted up, and she couldn't begin to express how thankful she was for that. She wrapped her arms around Pyrrha in whatever way she could, burying her face into the other girl's shoulder. Like this, Weiss could breathe easier, and the coughs gradually lessened in severity.

It was several more minutes of swallowing, gasping, and shaking before Weiss finally - finally - started to calm down. She'd been close to death before, but never like that. Just now, she'd been entirely unable to help herself, unable to fight. She didn't even know what had happened to her or why.

All she knew was that she wouldn't have woken up again if not for Pyrrha.

She didn't even care how unbecoming all of this was anymore; she just wanted to savor Pyrrha's presence, her gentle embrace.

"Pyrrha…" By some miracle, she got her voice back, weak as it was. "Pyrrha… thank you- you… saved my life… I don't know what happened… but you… you…"

The sobs started up again, and her breath hitched once more, but not nearly as bad as it had in the last few minutes.

. . .

When it felt right to say something, Pyrrha said it.

"It's okay," she whispered, planting a kiss onto the top of Weiss' head, sniffling back her own tears and trying to control her shaking. "I'm here."

Her hold around Weiss' back was both tight and loose all at once, hands clinging to her sides the way a child holds a precious treasure. Pyrrha would never compare Weiss to anything - the heiress was far beyond comparison - but the feeling was similar. She felt the same warmth, the same waves of relief that still washed over her, slowing her heartbeat back to normal levels. She was repeating herself, but it didn't matter.

"You're safe now."

. . .

Weiss nodded at everything Pyrrha said to her, opting to believe every last word. Only when she herself started to calm down did Weiss realize she wasn't the only one shaking and sobbing.

Pyrrha was too, and Weiss didn't know if she should feel more touched or concerned.

She'd never seen Pyrrha cry before - not for anything. It unsettled her, but in a way that only made her long to comfort her in any way she could. Weiss couldn't do much in her present state, but she tried.

"You're right. I'm okay now, thanks to you. You saved me, Pyrrha. Thank you…"

Now that it was over, Weiss realized just how close she'd been to never waking again.

She couldn't even begin to imagine how terrifying that must have been for Pyrrha to watch.

Weiss' hands ran up and down her friend's back, her tears seeping into Pyrrha's shoulder as she felt a warm wetness on her own. She hadn't realized when the coughing had stopped and been replaced with gentle breaths, hers and Pyrrha's positions almost reversed now.

"Shh… It's all right now. Thank you, Pyrrha…"

. . .

Pyrrha didn't know what had happened. She had always kept her sadness hidden, masked, the way she was told to every time she began to cry. Sadness was a weakness, they had said. You have no weaknesses, they said.

Feeling the warm, comforting touch that soothed her nerves so, so much said otherwise.

Pyrrha didn't cry for anything, except Weiss.

Her heart was still twisted and her stomach was still hollow, her body still quivered without her consent and her voice still refused to work.

But Weiss' words hit harder - in a good way - than any physical blow.

It was all Pyrrha could do to break down into another bout of crying, silently thanking Weiss over and over again, apologizing repeatedly under her breath as though she were at fault. She had no defenses left, but Weiss' arms felt safer than any walls Pyrrha had ever erected.

. . .

In overcoming whatever weaknesses had tried to overtake her, Weiss found a new strength. Pyrrha needed her support now, after watching her suffer like that, and the heiress did her best to quiet those sobs. She herself was still shaking, and it might not have been as effective as she would've hoped, but she squeezed Pyrrha to her as tightly as possible.

She'd never seen Pyrrha like this before - for any reason. But she knew she needed her to stop crying, lest Weiss herself break down again.

And yet, she wanted to let Pyrrha cry. Perhaps this was one of the only times she was allowed to.

So Weiss settled for giving her proof of the reality that was, not the one that had almost been. She lifted herself up onto her knees and pulled Pyrrha's head to her chest, over her heartbeat, letting her listen.

"Do you hear that, Pyrrha?" she murmured. "I'm all right now. Thank you so much. I don't know how I can ever repay you…"

. . .

There was no resistance like she had experienced before. Pyrrha accepted the rejection from others, but she had never acted the way she felt she should. Even touches from her parents made her flinch, and yet Weiss made her feel completely at ease. Pyrrha didn't want to resist.

Weiss' hands were soft and comforting despite her shakiness, and her voice was like a lullaby - so calming and serene. Pyrrha's arms locked around Weiss' waist, and that was where they stayed. The gentle beating of her heart sounded so precious. So assuring.

Weiss was right. She was alive, and the proof was against Pyrrha's ear.

The apologies didn't stop, however. Even as breathless whispers, she still felt responsible somehow for putting Weiss through all this.

"I...I'm sorry, Weiss… I'm s-so so sorry for e-everything… I never want t-to put you through that ever again…" It sounded as if it were Pyrrha's fault, and that was what she believed, despite her heart telling her it wasn't true.

But then, here, now, in Weiss' arms, listening to the heiress' pulse after the ordeal she had been through, her heart was saying something else too. Something that Pyrrha blurted out between apologies without a second thought, too emotionally drained to think about her words.

"I'm s-sorry for loving you, Weiss…"

Even in her current state, Pyrrha realized her mistake very quickly - but it was too late.

Now all she could do was wait.

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A/N: Drama for the sake of fluff! That's always been mine and my partner's mindset. And a cliffhanger confession? Yes indeed.