Renegades (Act V)

2-DAY EARLY RELEASE FOR ALL OF MY PATRONS! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!

Thank you as always for the support on this fic! But remember at this point, I myself did not write Blake's parts. That was all my talented partner kokkoro.

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.

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															Act V.

Three days came and went slowly, dragging, but Blake tried not to dwell on lost time too much. There was nothing she could do, and the longer she waited the harder it was to do something about it.

The nights were the worst. She wanted so desperately to leave — to see — and while Adam wasn't home often, she took his warning seriously.

After that first night more than a week ago, the signs were there, and White Fang didn't take well to traitors. Stability was shaky enough as it was — adding more reason for them not to trust her was the worst thing Blake could have done.

But the uncertainty was killing her. Not knowing whether or not Weiss was alright was just about driving her mad.

She tried to take her mind off it—took to reading the book Weiss had given her, but it was over in what felt like a matter of seconds, and she was left staring at the last page wondering where it had all gone.

She reread it, and reread it again.

There was time, plenty of it, and the book reminded her of Weiss in the oddest of ways—a collection of fairy tales with happy endings. It was almost mocking, actually, but Blake was in too deep to stop.

Call it self-inflicted punishment. God knew she deserved it.

...

After about four days, Weiss' father changed his attitude. Rather than starving her, he'd deemed she was looking too thin - undesirable - so close to her wedding day.

He all but forced her to eat more, but what he didn't see was afterward when Weiss would often throw it back up in the toilet of her personal bathroom. Her stomach had shrunk and she couldn't handle so much food, and the apprehension about the wedding in just two days, and her fear for Blake— it was all too much for her.

Weiss had hardly even spoken the past few days; she had no one to speak to and nothing to say. It'd gotten to the point where she'd almost forgotten what her own voice sounded like.

She just felt… hollow. Hopeless. Like an oyster that had once had hopes of holding a pearl, only to have it snatched away, leaving her utterly empty inside.

The maid had even gone so far as to leave her to her own devices this evening. Tomorrow night was the last one before her wedding, and Weiss hadn't slept much the past few nights anyway. The best she'd received had been from quite literally passing out from malnutrition or exhaustion, and she'd wake up at odd hours knowing it had been a miracle she'd even regained consciousness at all.

But tonight her maid was gone, and Weiss was alone. She lay in her nightgown that had gotten loose on her, and she buried her face into her damp pillow.

"Blake…" Her voice was a choked rasp. "I want… to see you…"

/Just one more time… One more time before they take me away…/

Soft, broken sobs filled the air, and she found it harder and harder to draw breath. She didn't even know for sure if Blake was still alive. Weiss knew how savage the White Fang could get...

The thought only made her stomach twist tighter, her chest aching as she gasped past the tears.

"Blake…"

...

What it all came down to in the end was the promise — the book.

Weiss had asked her to return it, and on the fourth day she couldn't bare to look at it anymore, anyway. With Adam gone for the moment, it was the perfect chance to slip away and give it back before disappearing for good.

Weiss was better off without her, and the trouble she had caused was proof of that. She'd simply return what she had borrowed, make sure Weiss was okay, and then leave. It was as easy as that.

It was later than usual by the time she had left. Already dark, it was a breeze to slip into the shadows unnoticed and pass people by. It felt like she didn't exist, and maybe that would have made everything better.

But first, she had to see Weiss, make sure she was okay, and only then would she disappear without a trace.

It was better for Weiss that way. A Faunus had no right butting into something like this.

And as she hauled herself up the fire escape ladder, that's what she told herself. Repeated it until it was engraved into her mind without hesitance, and when she came to the window, Weiss' name slipped from her mouth like it hadn't left her mind for the past four days.

And it hadn't, but at the sight of Weiss limp on her bed, thin and paler than usual, the book fell from her hand.

"Weiss!"

Blake's voice came out frantic and hushed as she scrambled through the open window, and in her dash to get to Weiss, her foot snagged on the window. Quick reflexes saved her from going headfirst into the floor and she closed the last few feet in a rush, sinking to her knees beside the bed.

...

Her head felt like it had been stuffed to capacity with cotton, and then that cotton had been lit on fire. She was delirious and knew that shouldn't have come as anything surprising, all things considered. Her mind flashed with choppy, inconsistent images — the ocean, the stars, the cafe, the party — all of which had only one thing in common.

"Blake…"

And almost right after she'd called out her name, Weiss heard her own. She whimpered, fearing she was hallucinating, scared of what that could mean. Her eyes flew wide open at the sound of a thud, and she suddenly realized something was happening and it wasn't just in her head.

Past the tears, her bleary vision finally came into focus on a familiar shape, a familiar person, a Faunus…

"B-Bla…ke…?"

She was there, right in front of Weiss, like an angel that had answered her prayers.

Weiss pushed herself up, but her arms were weak and she collapsed back onto her bed. She tried again, desperately fighting the violent shaking that seized her body, her heart throbbing painfully, scared and disbelieving.

A trembling white hand reached out, curling onto Blake's shoulder, but Weiss couldn't even find the strength to make a fist and hold on. She was weak from many things, and relief was only one of them — the others weren't so kind.

"B-Blake…" she gasped. Her throat was dry and it hurt. Everything hurt, but Blake was here. She'd come back to her. "Blake, I-I th… I thought y-you were dead… I thought… nngh…" Her voice wobbled and her breath hitched. She felt dizzier than ever, pulses of pain running through her.

"I-I…" She wheezed, wanting to say more but unable to do so unless she forced it. "I'm… You came back…"

There was a brief flash of the smallest smile before her face contorted in agony. Her hands went to her chest and clutched tightly, and her heart her lungs — everything — was straining, it seemed.

She blinked her eyes open past the stinging tears, unable to discern if Blake was really there or not. She hoped she was.

...

Weiss' voice was thin and rasping, the rest of her not too far off. She was weak, practically lacking any strength to move, and Blake reached out, a cautious hand brushing over Weiss' cheek.

"Of course I came back. I couldn't let them—"

But her words stopped short. She had come here with every intention to say goodbye, and she swallowed around the lump in her throat, attempting to push down the growing anger that wanted to surge forth to little success. Anger at Weiss' father and all he had done to his daughter, and at herself for thinking that leaving Weiss here would ever be okay.

Her hands itched for something to do — something to make this better, but every thought was crushed under an overwhelming sense of helplessness. What could she possibly do to help this? She curled her fingers around Weiss' hand, squeezing lightly.

"Weiss, I—" Blake swallowed again, and a second later her voice came out soft and unsure. "Tell me what to do…"

...

Take me away…

It was only a thought, and she knew she couldn't say it. She was going to be married the day after tomorrow. She was going to be moved into a new mansion with a husband and they were going to start a family together. She needed to bear a son — a grandson for her father, as he'd demanded of her previously.

Her hands tightened at her chest, but she felt another palm press gently over the backs of them, squeezing with great, great care.

The three words pushed at her lips, begging to be let out, but she swallowed them back down. If she said them… she didn't know what would happen.

So she settled for the only other thing on her mind right now, the only feasible way she could think to ease the pain coursing through her:

"H-Hold me… please…"

Nothing inside of her felt right; it was all gnarled and burning.

But Blake… having Blake beside her felt right, more so than anything else in the world, she'd discovered. And Weiss thought Blake could help her, even when the heiress felt as though all was lost. She'd answered her prayer, after all.

...

It took a moment to decide to gather Weiss into her arms, lifting the frail body off the mattress before sinking back to the floor, back against the bed so that she was facing away from the door.

Weiss was light in her lap, thin and withering, and Blake pulled her closer, tucking the heiress under her chin. Blake felt restless, hands itching — wanting — to do more, while at the same time hoping she didn't have to. It would only make it more difficult to leave, and that was hard enough as it was.

She didn't want to leave, not with things the way they were, with Weiss so close to the edge. But staying longer than necessary meant risking what little tranquility they had.

Yet this moment right now — it was theirs, and no one would take that from them. Blake would make sure of it.

She didn't think about resting her cheek against the top of Weiss' head, she simply did it, her arms wrapping the girl's slender frame in a protective embrace.

"I'm sorry," Blake muttered, fingers curling into Weiss' nightgown, pulling her closer as the building guilt finally became too much to bare. "I'm so sorry..."

...

When Blake held her, it reminded her of that first night they'd spent together, when the Faunus girl had carried her home on her back due to the thorns in her feet. Back then, it had been loose and awkward when Weiss had held onto her, but now she clung desperately, perhaps for life itself.

She shook her head, wanting Blake to know that none of this was her fault, but she was still unable to speak. She hiccuped, burying her face into the front of the girl's shoulder, trying to stifle her sobs. Blake held her gently, carefully, and the heiress could hear the faint pulse of her heartbeat. She felt like it was beating for her and her alonein that moment.

Blake was here now. Blake was alive, she was okay, and Weiss was just so relieved. But she was also scared — scared of how sick she felt, scared of her wedding in only two more days, scared of her betrothed husband-

-scared of letting Blake go again.

She wanted her to stay the night, and if Weiss could have that, she'd never ask for anything ever again.

But she knew it was impossible, far too great of a risk for the both of them. She'd rather Blake be somewhere else, safe from Weiss's father. And when she thought about it, perhaps her wedding wouldn't be all that bad, because she would be away from her father too, in the end. And she'd get used to her husband in time.

After a while, her crying came to a stop, her eyes having run dry. Her breathing eased a bit, and the pain in her chest subsided; she believed that Blake's calm heartbeat eased her own rapid one.

Weiss shuddered as a chill ran through her, sighing again, wheezing just a little.

"Blake… you're warm…"

She loved it, and she wanted nothing more in the world other than to keep feeling that, keep breathing her in, keep feeling her pulse.

"Thank you…"

...

Weiss' soft sobs came to a gradual stop, and the pressure that settled after they had subsided was grounding. It was something Blake wholly accepted.

The resulting intimacy they had formed — she thrived in it, much to her own surprise. Craved it after those months in which being alone had gotten more commonplace than she would have liked.

Funny, though. She had never really thought of herself as warm, but as Weiss shivered, pressed closer, Blake wanted to be nothing less.

"There's nothing you need to thank me for." Especially considering she was the reason they were in this mess. Everything that had happened, it had been because of her.

Still, her hold tightened a little, and a hand rubbed lazily at Weiss' back, happy that in some way this was helping her — helping them both, actually.

...

Weiss felt herself slipping. The days up until now had been draining to say the least, and she was constantly tired. Blake's cajoling motions over her back, her steady heartbeat, her consistent warmth — everything was catching up to Weiss, and she knew she wouldn't be able to last much longer.

But before she lost consciousness, she made sure to speak again.

"You should go... You've done enough for me Blake, really. Just… if you can, come tomorrow night? That will be… the last time. After that, I won't be here anymore, so just… one last time tomorrow, the night before the wedding.

"And after that you'll be free of me and all my problems. You'll never have to bother with me again. These past few weeks… they'll just be a brief chapter in our storybooks. We'll remember them fondly and continue living, and that's okay. So please… just one more time. Tomorrow…"

It was hard to keep herself awake now, but she fought, needing to hear Blake's answer. She burrowed her face into the side of Blake's neck, squeezing her shoulders with as much strength as she had left. She didn't want to have Blake leave so soon and make her think Weiss only wanted her for comfort. There was so much more to it than that.

"I… I can't stay awake…" she whimpered. "I'm so tired. I'm sorry, Blake…"

...

Weiss was rambling, and with every word, Blake felt the need to leave lessen that much more.

It was clear Weiss hadn't been able to relax in the past four days thanks to the building pressure of the upcoming wedding and an overbearing and belligerent father. If it was comfort Weiss needed right now, Blake was more than willing to provide. She'd go home after she made sure Weiss was sound asleep.

"I'll stay." Her words were soft, breathed lightly into Weiss' hair. "For now. If that's all right with you."

Tomorrow wasn't something she was certain she could promise, so now was all she could give. Though she would try her damnedest to see it through. After all, what was one more night in the scheme of things?

...

Blake hadn't said yes to seeing her again tomorrow, but Weiss knew it was only because she didn't want to make a promise she couldn't keep. She cared that much about Weiss, to the point where she wouldn't lie even now to make her feel better, and that knowledge did make her feel better.

Weiss nodded against her. "Okay…" she breathed. "Thank you."

But Weiss didn't want to sleep if that meant Blake would leave afterward.

She did her best to hold out for as long as possible, focusing on Blake and Blake alone. She ignored the growling in her stomach, the pain in her chest, the stinging behind her eyes. Instead, she breathed Blake in, absorbed her warmth and did her best to share her own.

Blake was so soft, nothing like what someone would imagine a Faunus living in the slums of Vale would feel like. She smelled of the night — cool and musky — and of old books.

Weiss remembered she had once thought of Blake's scent as freedom itself, but the heiress was really only preventing her from being free. She was tying Blake down, getting her into trouble. She'd even been so selfish as to ask her to come back again tomorrow. Perhaps it would be better for Blake if she didn't.

Weiss sighed one last long breath, shuddering against Blake until she was still, her embrace around the Faunus girl going limp, and one last whisper on her lips:

"Thank you…"

...

Unconsciousness came like the tide, creeping and then all at once.

The last words from Weiss were a whisper before she drifted off to sleep, her arms slackening around Blake.

A part of it was relieving. Weiss was finally relaxing, but the breath that passed through Blake's lips minutes later was shuddering. And with every second letting go felt harder to do.

For a while she sat like that — on the floor with Weiss curled up in her arms. It was comforting in a way, the weight and the scent all-encompassing, and she closed her eyes to block out the rest.

The large room was still unnerving, but focusing on Weiss brought it out of context. She could pretend. Blake was good at that.

But fantasies only lasted for so long, and when the night stretched, Blake knew that she shouldn't linger. The risk only multiplied with the minutes that passed, and after a soft press of her head against Weiss', Blake pulled herself to her feet. There was a small strain, but the weight was more of a warmth than a nuisance. One Blake knew she would miss.

She settled Weiss down on the bed carefully, hoping not to disturb the peace that had finally fallen.

And it was in that moment that Blake realized she didn't want tomorrow to come.

The next morning was the worst kind of torment.

Weiss could still feel Blake's presence from last night, her chest warm as though the Faunus girl was still there beside her, holding her so tenderly.

But she wasn't still there. Blake was gone.

And Weiss knew it was for the better, knew she shouldn't be surprised. What she should be surprised about was the fact that Blake had stayed as long as she had last night, and that there was still a possibility Weiss would see her again one last time tonight.

One last time…

This really would be the last time. And that was if Blake got to her.

But despite the fact that the Faunus girl hadn't definitively said yes to her, Weiss was certain she would come through. She always did.

So before her morning wake-up call could startle her out of her skin, Weiss rolled out of bed and stumbled over to her personal desk. She often practiced calligraphy there, believing the true charms of it could only be captured with a classical feather pen and ink.

Her letters were a little shaky due to her weakened physical state, but it was still undoubtedly the handwriting of an heiress. She wrote out a full two-paged letter to Blake, recounting their times together, and ultimately thanking her from the bottom of her heart. One last thing to remember her by after tonight — something Blake could keep.

Once she'd finished writing, Weiss folded the pages and slipped them inside an old envelope, sealing it with a kiss to the center.

She then crossed the room to pick up the book Blake had left on the floor last night in her haste to reach Weiss' side. She opened it up, imagining Blake having read it only a day before, and it made her chest feel fuzzy, though not unpleasantly so. She slipped it back into its proper place on the shelf, and before long started to clumsily prepare herself for the tiring day ahead.

...

Adam wasn't home by the time she stumbled back to the apartment in the early hours of the morning, and she chalked it as a small miracle.

The next few hours were spent curled up in the arm chair, but catching up on sleep was more trouble than she imagined. Interspersed nightmares made it hard for anything beyond a few hours of shut-eye, and by the time afternoon rolled around, she gave up entirely.

It was quiet, all things considered, and being left alone with her thoughts in that small cramped space of a room left her with too much time to think about. Her mind wandered to things it shouldn't — entertained ideas far too stupid for her to consider herself anywhere near sane.

There were risks, and then there were certain failures, and this was so close to the edge there was no telling what might arise. But right now, it was something, and she'd take anything she could get.

All it came down to in the end was Weiss.

It was dark by the time she slipped out of the apartment one last time, body prickling with uncertainty — only to find Adam in the darkness of the small hallway.

By now his ire was deserved, and any more words said upon the matter were useless. The look in his eyes was enough.

...

The entire day was a trial run of the wedding. Weiss was put into a makeshift dress and herded around the mansion like a sheep to the slaughterhouse.

She was forced to go through everything that would be happening tomorrow. She stumbled through every step, panted through every motion, recited every line despite the horrible taste in her mouth at the sound of her vows. Her future husband had yet to arrive, but he would be there the next morning.

At noon she was forced to eat, then she went through everything again, doing her best to straighten her posture or speak louder whenever her father yelled at her to.

At one point she collapsed, and there was so much shouting after that she had to excuse herself to the bathroom to be sick. She promised it wouldn't happen again, and went through the process all over.

It ran late into the night, far past sunset.

When at last she was told to go to her room, Weiss shed her dress and somehow managed to get into her nightgown before falling onto her bed, the tears already slipping down her cheeks. She pulled the letter she'd written to Blake to her chest and looked longingly out the window.

Blake would be here soon. She needed to stop crying now. She would see Blake again before long, for the last time.

She would say goodbye.

Blake would be here soon…

But as the minutes turned to hours, no soft call of her name came from beneath the fire escape, no patter of footsteps climbing up the ladder, no gentle smile or warm embrace to comfort her.

Weiss cried harder, and all into the night.

...

The night passed by in a sleepless fair. Blake had known that there would be a possibility, but having to face her own failure was its own brand of torture. There'd never been a promise to break, and yet, in a way, it felt like she had anyway.

It was shocking how close she had grown to Weiss in the passing days — how essential that presence beside her had become.

And how familiar it seemed in comparison to Adam.

Her feelings for Adam would never be something she could forget, but lingering on past memories was only hurting them. She had changed — they both had changed, and what had arisen were two different sets of ideals with similar goals.

It was like being on separate ends of a thread, pulling — hoping that the other chose to follow out of familial attachment. It was ruining for the both of them, and Blake could only hope he would come to understand the decision she made that morning.

That maybe somewhere down the line, if she chose to come back, she would find him, and the time they spent apart would cool the last fragments of bitterness between them — that she could look back on this and think it was the best choice she could have made.

And not a horrible mistake.

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A/N: I hope you're still enjoying if you're keeping up.

Preview for Act VI : Tukson didn't ask any questions when she showed up to his store unannounced and out of breath. For some reason he already seemed to know, and his accepting silence when she caught his eyes had her throat tightening, her fingers curling around the bag's strap until her hand bled white.

"I-I need…"

"-some help?"