The Queens of Remnant - Chapter 36 (Patreon)
Content
Staying awake was impossible. Or maybe falling asleep was impossible. Sometimes, Yang wasn’t even sure if she was awake or asleep. It was hard to tell when every second felt like a never-ending crescendo of agony that broke her mind just as much as her body.
Blake told her that she slept sometimes, but she couldn’t remember. If she was getting any rest, it didn’t help. Fighting the Phage had become so taxing that not even sleep combated her exhaustion. Honestly, she didn’t know how she was still alive. It didn’t seem like she should be. Not after what happened.
She didn’t know which of her memories to trust, but she remembered Blake waking her up in the middle of the night. Telling her something was wrong. She remembered being terrified for Blake and Winter’s lives - Cecelia wouldn’t let either live if she found them.
They snuck out of the palace using the secret passageway. But after that...Yang only recalled bits and pieces. Shadows of events. Talking to someone. A long, bumpy ride in the back of a cart. Fire everywhere. Staring up at the stars, wondering if they’d always had such a red glow.
If she’d been with anyone else, or alone, she would have been terrified. But Blake had been there. She took care of Yang like no one besides Ruby would.
Blake saved her. Blake saved all of them. If she hadn’t spotted the beginning of the assault, they wouldn’t have made it out of the palace. They would have been captured, and Yang would have died trying to keep Blake and Winter out of Cecelia’s grasp.
Now the Badlands, the region she’d neglected for so long, became her sanctuary. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
Hearing whispers that didn’t fade like the other noises Yang heard - or thought she heard - she waited several seconds before summoning the energy to turn her head. Her eyes struggled to focus on her surroundings, like looking through a dirty window before finally clearing up. She didn’t recognize the room. Or the bed she was lying in. Or any of the furniture or belongings. Blake probably told her where she was, but...she couldn’t remember. Searching her mind for answers yielded nothing more than struggling through vast swaths of fog and imagination.
But she would recognize Blake’s voice anywhere, and knowing Blake was nearby soothed her budding panic. With how weak she felt, she was essentially trapped here. Being trapped in an unfamiliar place was alarming, but being trapped in an unfamiliar place with Blake meant she was still safe.
Blake was speaking to someone in the room just beyond the bedroom door, but Yang couldn’t make out the words. From their low, quick voices, the conversation was important. The other voice posed questions; Blake answered with calm, unmistakable certainty.
Just as Yang considered lugging herself out of bed to see what was going on, the conversation ended. Footsteps hurried across a wooden floor before a squeaky door opened and closed. Moments later, the bedroom door quietly opened and Blake poked her head inside. As soon as she saw Yang, she smiled and closed the door behind her.
“Hey...” she said while walking over and sitting on the bed beside Yang. “How do you feel?”
If Yang felt anything like her usual self, she would lie and say something like ‘a little under the weather.’ Considering she felt like death, and the sympathy in Blake’s eyes suggested she looked it too, she didn’t waste the energy.
“Feels like I haven’t slept in weeks…”
“You’ve been sleeping for most of the day,” Blake whispered, gently pushing a strand of hair behind Yang’s ear. Blake’s skin hardened before nearing her, a subtle reminder that her skin was as hot as it felt, but she still appreciated the intimate gesture.
“That long?”
When Blake nodded, Yang closed her eyes and grimaced as a spear of heat shot through her chest. The pain felt sharper now, as if it had finally chipped away her protection and now jabbed directly on her nerve endings. She couldn’t ignore it anymore. The Phage didn’t want that. It never wanted that, and now it wouldn't tolerate such indignity. It responded to her rebuffs by stabbing harder through her heart, sending searing-hot blood dripping through her veins.
Only after the sharp pain ebbed did she attempt to remember that morning. Or last night. She thought she had been awake…sometime earlier...but was that just a dream?
“I can’t remember…” she mumbled before forcing her eyes open and meeting Blake’s. “What’s going on?” The moment Blake shook her head and opened her mouth, Yang pressed forward with a furtive smile. “I can handle it, I swear.”
Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she could handle it, or that she would even remember, but she had to know what was going on. Vale was a part of her as much as her name, her childhood, and her spark. Even if she had no way of helping right now, or ever again, she couldn’t turn her back on such a large piece of herself. Thankfully, Blake acquiesced, though her slumped posture suggested she didn’t want to.
“No one can get into the city...” Her low, soft voice suggested that she didn’t want to break the news too bluntly. “We sent a couple scouts hoping we could figure out what’s going on, but there’s no getting through. Not yet.”
At that news, Yang closed her eyes and took a deep breath that only stoked the fire in her lungs. When she exhaled, those flames rushed through her veins, reaching everywhere her blood flowed. Eventually, it would burn her from the inside out.
“She won’t open the gates until she has control,” she sighed.
“Won’t the palace fight back?”
“They might, but she’ll put a stop to that.”
“Do you mean...?”
“She’ll kill anyone who resists,” Yang elaborated, opening her eyes. Finding Blake’s filled with worry, she offered a fleeting smile. “I hope not many resist.”
Focus was hard to come by, but Yang knew what Cecelia was doing. It was so predictable that she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it earlier. Cecelia came and went in the palace as she pleased, but she hadn’t just passed the time. She learned the patrols. She learned Vale’s weaknesses. She only needed a reason to strike, and Yang gave her one.
Ruby was right: Yang was overconfident. She thought that she could keep Cecelia in line. And for years, she had. Their pseudo-friendship, pseudo-rivalry worked. Then the war, then the Phage...then she lost her grip on that thin strand of loyalty.
“But...then what?” Blake eventually prodded. “She makes herself Queen of Vale?”
“Maybe...”
Feeling another wave of agony rolling through her chest, Yang shuddered, squeezed her eyes shut, and waited for it to pass. Unlike before, when the fire chose its favorite location and lingered there for hours before moving on, this torment ignited her entire body at once. Her mind dealt with the torment by shutting down, yet she still remembered the young man in the plaza. The flames seeping from his skin, burning everything it touched. His howls of pain. The flash of agony. Then...nothing.
With that future so close, it was difficult to be too concerned about Vale’s safety right now. Cecelia was ruthless but fair. She wouldn’t rampage through the streets slaughtering civilians. She wouldn’t set the city on fire. Only those who dared to fight back would invoke her wrath.
Vale was fine for now, but one of Cecelia’s other traits worried Yang most.
“She’ll come after me.”
Hearing the words out loud, Yang felt the reality in them. She tried to nod, but the motion was too taxing.
“She’ll come after me,” she repeated. “She won’t let you win. She can’t let you win.”
“I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
Blake sounded unperturbed, but Yang felt the opposite. And, the more she thought about it, the more she realized what a horrible position she put Blake in. Cecelia made her intentions clear long ago - she wanted Yang. Yang always thought that Cecelia wanted the power associated with being queen, but that wasn’t all. That couldn’t be all.
Yang was the only one who’d ever beaten Cecelia at anything. By doing that, she marked herself as a conquest - a trophy. Cecelia wouldn’t let someone steal her trophy.
“Blake...you don’t understand what she’ll do. If she comes, you have to let her take me.”
Yang heard the pleading edge in her voice but did nothing to hide it. Blake needed to understand how dangerous this situation was.
“You can’t fight her - just let me go. Please, Blake. It’s not worth it. Not when -” She stopped when another wave of emotion - this time sorrow - rolled through her. “I don’t have much time left...” she whispered. “I’m not worth fighting for. Promise me you won’t try to fight.”
Desperately needing to hear a ‘yes,’ Yang watched the emotions flit through Blake’s eyes. After settling on an answer, Blake leaned forward and clutched her hand.
“No.”
Unprepared for that response, Yang blinked.
“What?”
“No, I won’t make that promise,” Blake repeated, shaking her head. “I won’t let her have you. I don’t care what she does. I’ll fight for every second you have left.”
“But...she’ll kill you.”
“She can try.”
If this wasn’t a matter of life or death, Yang might have adored the response. Instead, her fear grew. In her current state, she couldn’t help. She couldn’t stop Blake either, as much as she wished she could. Blake had the right to make her own decisions.
Still, tears sprang into Yang’s eyes when she thought about what might happen when she was no longer around. Blake deserved a long, happy life with or without her. The idea of Cecelia cutting that short...all because she felt slighted...hurt just as much as the Phage.
“Please take care of yourself…”
“You’re one to talk…” Blake whispered back. A small smile flitted across her lips when Yang chuckled at the apt-yet-horrible response.
“I’m trying but...doesn’t seem to be going well...”
Her burning skin proved that point well enough. As did Blake’s ever-present spark, which must be exhausting to keep up. That didn’t stop Blake from leaning forward and lightly resting her hand over Yang’s.
“I know you’re doing your best,” Blake said, rubbing her thumb across the back of Yang’s hand. “Speaking of taking care of yourself though...do you want something to eat? We don’t have anything as fancy as in the palace, but I’m sure I can find something you’ll like.”
“I’m...not really hungry...”
“You haven’t eaten much in days,” Blake pointed out. “You need to at least have something.”
“I don’t think I can even keep it down though.”
“But you can try? For me?”
The moment Blake smiled, Yang chuckled and shook her head. The motion hurt, but in this case...it was worth it.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Blake teased. “I just asked you to try eating.”
“Yeah, for you,” Yang pointed out. “And you know I’ll do anything for you.”
The response sounded more hopelessly devoted and adoring than Yang intended, but she didn’t regret it when Blake smiled.
“Then it sounds like you’re eating a late breakfast,” Blake replied, much to Yang’s amusement. “I’ll go find something.”
“Wait.”
Blake had already stood up, but Yang grabbed her hand without thinking about it. As soon as Blake looked down at their joined hands, Yang released her grasp and briefly glanced away.
“Could you help me sit up first?”
The fact that Yang even had to ask was beyond humiliating, but Blake didn’t pity the weakness. Instead, she nodded and said, “Of course.”
Sitting up normally wasn’t an ordeal. But when Yang’s hands felt as fragile as charred matchsticks, she couldn’t fathom pushing herself up. Thankfully, Blake moved closer and carefully wrapped her arms underneath Yang’s. Yang wrapped her arms around Blake’s back in return even though she was hardly strong enough to hold on. Blake then gently lifted Yang so that she could prop herself up against the headboard. The motion wasn’t jarring or quick, but Yang’s spark protested - strongly.
Fire suddenly poured through her veins as her imaginary grasp of control was ripped away. Blake yelped at the sudden onslaught of heat while Yang curled over and pressed her forehead into the covers. A long, drawn-out moan came from somewhere outside of herself. Like a wounded animal. It couldn’t have been her because she didn’t exist anymore. All that existed was the scorching agony consuming every bit of her. Heating her cells until they screamed right along with her limbs and skin.
It felt like her heart was melting. It felt like she was melting. And the inferno kept intensifying, the flames pressing against her skin, begging to get out.
“Yang.”
That was her name. That was Blake’s voice. Barely audible over the roaring flames in her ears.
“Please hold on…” Blake pleaded while Yang struggled to grasp onto her voice. Anything besides the fire and pain.
Blake was nearby. If that uncontainable fire broke free now...she was too close.
But Yang couldn’t stop it. It didn’t care. It tore through her skin, searching for her weakest points and using them to escape.
“Please don’t give up…you can do this, Yang. You can do this.”
She didn’t think she could, so she clung to Blake’s voice with everything she had left. If these were her final moments, she didn’t want to remember the pain. She wanted to die knowing that Blake kept her promise. She stayed until the end.
The harder she grasped onto Blake - memories, desires and dreams of their nonexistent future - the clearer those thoughts became. The closer the room felt. The more the flames retreated.
Her senses started returning. The overpowering pain subsided.
“Yang, are you ok? Please tell me you’re ok.”
She heard the fear in Blake’s voice. She wanted to respond, but all that came out was a muffled groan. Her limbs were uncooperative, her heart thundered as if just brought back to life, but her mind steadily regained control. Eventually, she flopped onto her side and peeked her eyes open.
“I’m sorry…” she mumbled, but Blake shook her head. Noticing how Blake tenderly moved her left hand, however, a different spike of agony joined the fire in Yang’s chest.
“I hurt you…”
“It’s fine. It’s not bad.”
“Let me see.”
Blake hesitated before offering her hand. Yang immediately saw why, since an angry, red welt covered her wrist.
“We need to get you some ice.”
If Yang somehow thought that she would make it out of bed on her own, Blake instantly squashed the idea.
“We’re not going anywhere.” After setting a hand on Yang’s shoulder to keep her from moving, Blake gently touched her cheek. “You need to rest.”
Once upon a time, Yang would have protested, insisted, or at least come up with a witty response. Today, she sank into the covers and sighed.
“You should get some rest, too...” she whispered, nodding to the dark circles under Blake’s eyes.
“I’m fine.” When Yang’s brow rose, it was Blake’s turn to sigh. “I’ll sleep later. There’s too much to do right now.”
Yang only added worries to Blake’s plate. Between her failing health, Cecelia’s treachery, and Vale’s unexpected instability, the Resistance leader suddenly had a lot to handle. When Yang opened her mouth to apologize, however, Blake shook her head. She didn’t want another apology, so Yang obediently kept it to herself.
She held Blake’s gaze instead, reading emotions in warm amber orbs while savoring what she could feel of Blake’s hand on her cheek. The fire was building again. Her temperature rose as it surged through her veins. Her jaw clenched while she fought it off, but it quickly became more than she could handle. She was too weak, or it was too strong, or both.
Resigned to her fate, she focused on Blake while everything else went up in flames. The pain in Blake’s eyes reflected her current agony, but Blake never moved away. Even when the room became overwhelmingly hot, and small flames leapt from Yang’s hands, Blake stayed where she was. She was strong - Yang had always loved that about her - but her determination and loyalty proved how lucky Yang was.
The Phage might be a curse, but Blake was a blessing. Yang didn’t want to give up their time together yet. She didn’t want this to be the last conversation they shared or the last they laid eyes on each other, but the Phage wanted this to be their last moment. Its ferocity said as much, as it shot fireballs through her body to increase the pain. Pretty soon, those flames would break through. They would burst free and consume her alive.
Soon. It would be soon.
But it wouldn’t be right now.
Left fighting for breath, Yang mustered a small smile once the worst of it passed. Breathing still burned - living still burned - but she’d been granted a few more minutes. She wished that she could make the best of them, but she would at least cherish them.
“There you are…” Blake whispered, leaning forward and brushing Yang’s hair away from her forehead. Sweat dampened her hair now, but Blake didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she looked more affectionate than ever.
She knew, just like Yang, that the end was near. Before they reached that point, however, Yang had something she wanted to say. She didn’t know if she had the courage, but if she didn’t get it off of her chest now...her only other option was never.
“Blake -” she began only to lose her nerve when footsteps drew Blake’s gaze to the door. Someone softly knocked, and Blake gently touched Yang’s shoulder before going to answer it.
Winter stood on the other side, but she hardly glanced between Blake and Yang before issuing a quick, “Sorry to interrupt -”
“No, please.”
Standing out of the way, Blake motioned Winter into the room.
“I thought I could help.”
When Winter held up her hands, Blake turned to Yang for an answer.
“Sounds amazing,” Yang admitted, to no one’s surprise. Winter nodded and moved to the side of the bed, but Blake remained standing and backed toward the door.
“I need to check on a few things, but I’ll be right back.”
Yang didn’t want to be separated for a second, but she knew that Blake would hurry back. She also knew that Blake needed a break - using her spark for such long stretches would eventually exhaust her. Regardless, Yang managed only a weak smile before Blake left the room and immediately worried that might be the last time they saw each other.
If it was...she wished even more that she’d said what she wanted to say. Now, she had to fight to make sure she was still around when Blake returned.
“How are you feeling?”
Sighing, Yang met Winter’s cool blue gaze and decided against pretending.
“Kind of like I’m laying in a furnace, but I swallowed the fire.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, me too,” Yang said, mustering a small smile at Winter’s enduring politeness. If she had more time, she would love to get to know the elder Atlesian princess better. She could only imagine the stories Winter had to tell...but her current focus became Winter’s frozen hand settling on her arm.
The sudden cold shocked Yang’s senses as it spread across her skin, covering her in a thin layer of ice. That ice almost immediately melted away, sizzling and throwing thin wisps of steam in the air as her spark nullified Winter’s. The result was more muted than before but still a relief. The fire still lurked just beneath her skin, but it no longer threatened to escape.
Closing her eyes, Yang savored the reprieve as much as possible. She still couldn’t take full breaths, but breathing became a little easier. And each steady breath helped her feel more awake and alert.
After several quiet minutes punctuated only by the subtle hiss of steam, she opened her eyes and looked at Winter. Winter’s slightly furrowed brow suggested it took a decent amount of energy to keep up the steady cold, but she appeared otherwise unbothered. The fact that she was here at all shocked Yang the most. After making it out of Vale, Winter could have gone anywhere. Yet here she was...helping in whatever way she could.
“You know...you aren’t as evil as I expected.”
Yang’s comment drew surprised blue eyes to her. Then a hint of a smile lifted Winter’s lips.
“You’re not as ill-tempered as I expected.”
“Maybe I used to be.” Yang would have shrugged, but that required more energy than she had left. “Kind of hard to be ill-tempered when you’re dying...” she sighed instead.
The flicker of sadness in Winter’s eyes made Yang feel guilty for stating that so bluntly, regardless of its truthfulness. But Winter’s response proved something that Yang had suspected since the day they met - Winter had a kind heart and soul. Regardless of the rumors, she didn’t revel in the pain or suffering of others.
“Is it true what they say?” Yang asked, focusing on that thought more than the fire in her chest. “That you were the Mad King’s enforcer?”
Winter’s gaze fell to the side as she sighed.
“He didn’t take ‘no’ well…”
“I’m not judging you,” Yang quickly added. “I’m just curious.”
When Winter met Yang’s gaze, Yang offered a small, apologetic smile. Winter didn’t have to say anything if she didn’t want to, but she bit her bottom lip and nodded.
“Then...yes. I was. When he wanted to send a message, he sent me. He never liked doing his dirty work.”
“That sounds like a horrible position to be in.”
“It wasn’t ideal,” Winter mumbled. She looked like she might leave it at that, then she added, “I tried my best, but...one day, I’ll pay for what I’ve done.”
“Or you’ll find a way to atone.”
Winter’s surprise suggested she never considered that possibility, but Yang smiled and gently dipped her chin. If necessary, she would point out that Winter was already making amends for what her father put her through. Even right now, at this very moment, she spent her energy easing Yang’s pain when she could be doing anything else.
After thoughtfully considering the response, however, Winter nodded.
“I like the sound of that much better.”
Winter had the disposition and skill to make it happen, but it wasn’t Yang’s place to push her in that direction. Winter would find her way. Yang was just grateful that their paths had crossed for this short amount of time, and not solely for the relief of Winter’s spark.
Like Weiss, Winter proved how wrong it was to write off Atlas as wholly corrupt. Good, kind, well-intentioned people existed there just as they did in Vale. The biggest difference was that one of those good, kind people had finally made their way into power.
“Can I ask something?” Yang said, waiting for Winter’s nod before voicing one of her nagging worries. “Weiss won’t...back out of the treaty, will she?”
“If Weiss said she wants to end the war, she means it. That’s how she’s always felt, I suspect, though she never said as much.”
“That’s good,” Yang replied with a relieved smile. “She seemed genuine. It’s just...also felt like she had no idea what she was doing.”
Even though Yang voiced the concern softly, Winter sighed.
“I had so much to teach her...how the Council works, what’s really happening in Atlas...but there wasn’t time. I can only pray she’s figured it out on her own.”
“I bet she did. Besides, Ruby’s there to help her.”
Though Atlas and Vale had been mortal enemies for far longer than friends, Ruby wouldn’t care. She would help whoever needed it. Fortunately, Winter seemed to believe that. At least, she smiled for a second before her gaze dropped to her lap.
“Weiss has always had a kind heart…she wants to be good. She wants to help. It vexed our father to no end.”
Yang wondered what the Mad King was like when ‘vexed’ but worried that she already knew. He’d been so quick to anger. So quick to violence. Were his daughters spared that wrath...or had they suffered the greatest of anyone? Looking at Winter, whose emotional torment matched Yang’s physical suffering, Yang decided that she liked the Atlesian princess even more. Strength came in many forms - surviving a despicable father’s reign with morality intact certainly counted as one of them.
Yang, meanwhile, was too weak to do anything but lay there, steaming through Winter’s spark and grimacing when spikes of pain still slipped through. She hated being weak, and she hated other people witnessing that weakness, but what was the point of vanity anymore?
She used to be powerful. She used to be strong. She used to be a queen. Now, she was just another lesson in life’s fleeting frailty.
“Winter,” she began, once again drawing blue eyes her way. Resolve nearly left her, but she was running out of time. If she could make things better, or at least ease her own worries, she had to try. “I know I have no right to ask this, but...once I’m gone...can you make sure things go alright? With the treaty…Atlas and Vale…helping the Badlands, and...Blake?”
Winter had no obligation to help, yet she didn’t hesitate to nod.
“Of course. I’ll do whatever I can.”
“Thank you.”
Another weight lifted from Yang’s shoulders, and she sighed when the cold briefly reached deeper beneath her skin. Her spark quickly rebuffed the invading chill, but that small moment offered a glimpse of what used to be.
“I wish I could have a do-over…” she mumbled.
“What would you do differently?”
Clenching her hands around the fire in her palms, Yang focused on the question instead of the searing heat.
“I would’ve spent more time with my parents,” she eventually answered. “I would’ve spent more time with Ruby. And...I wish I’d met Blake sooner.”
While she was wishing for things, she wished that she never got sick to begin with. Unfortunately, those wishes wouldn’t come true. And they did nothing to ease the pain.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did the two of you meet?”
Yang didn’t know if Winter was actually curious or just trying to make conversation, but the answer didn’t matter. Answering distracted her from the pain and kept her around that much longer.
“She stormed into the palace with your sister.”
Yang chuckled at the memory, which was more humorous now that she knew Blake better. Weiss, with her hesitant, princess aura, wanted to play nice. But Blake, with her down-to-earth, simmering anger, had been ready and willing to cause a scene.
“I owe her my life,” Winter admitted.
“I do, too.”
Not only had Blake saved Yang’s life multiple times, but Blake had changed her for the better. She hoped that she’d changed Blake too, but Blake had been pretty perfect to begin with.
People called her an assassin, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. She was no killer. She hated seeing people hurt or mistreated. She had a bit of a ‘dangerous, sexy’ vibe, but Yang was well acquainted with the real ‘dangerous, sexy’ vibe from her experience with Cecelia.
Cecelia killed for the fun of it, for the sport of it, or to prove a point. She was powerful, she knew it, and she wielded that knowledge as a means for getting what she wanted.
Blake was also powerful and competent, but she preferred diplomacy, compromise, and negotiation. It must have hurt to be branded for Adam’s death even if she knew he deserved it. As much as she pretended to be a regular, insignificant rebel from the Badlands, her impact on Vale, Atlas, and beyond said otherwise.
While the two of them sat there in silence, contemplating their impact on the world as their lives moved in separate directions, a door opened and footsteps quickly crossed the room beyond Yang’s temporary bedroom. Seconds later, Blake poked her head into the room and, as soon as she saw Yang, looked as relieved as Yang felt.
“Hey...how are you feeling?”
Blake’s soft tone and gentle expression implied that Yang was dying. Considering that Yang was dying, and felt like it too, she didn’t complain.
“Been better,” she admitted before glancing at Winter. “Kind of feels like I’m wrapped in an icy cocoon.”
“Kind of looks like it, too,” Blake teased, sitting down and lightly touching Yang’s shoulder. “What’ve you two been up to?”
“Oh, you know, Weiss and I were just talking about...stuff.”
The more Yang tried to remember the conversation, the further it slipped away. When Blake’s brow rose, Yang followed her gaze off to the side and abruptly realized her mistake.
“I mean Winter,” she corrected herself. After blinking several times, she shook her head but grimaced at the motion. She could’ve sworn Weiss was sitting here but, thinking about it now, that didn’t make sense.
“You look a lot alike,” she told Winter.
“We do. And we get that all the time, don’t worry.”
Winter offered a small, forgiving smile, but Blake’s eyes held nothing but concern. If Yang possessed a fraction of her usual energy, she would try to prove that she was fine. But she was physically and mentally exhausted, and Blake wouldn’t believe her anyway.
When Yang’s gaze returned to Blake, she realized that Blake and Winter were in the midst of a silent conversation. She’d missed the beginning of it, but Blake smiled as soon as she noticed Yang’s attention.
“Will you be alright if Winter takes a break for a bit?”
“Oh.” Yang glanced at Winter, who looked willing to stay if needed, before returning her gaze to Blake. “I’m alright, I think.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m...sure.”
She wasn’t sure, and their shared glance said that they weren’t either. They were afraid she would combust as soon as Winter left. That must be it. Yang was afraid of that too, but Winter’s spark couldn’t last forever. Just like Blake - they needed breaks.
The instant Winter lifted her hand, the fire returned to the surface of Yang’s skin. Yang grimaced at its rapid reappearance, which Blake noticed, but she tried to smile when Winter stood.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Winter hesitated, her eyes flitting to Blake before returning to Yang. “I’ll be back soon.”
Blake nodded as Winter left, but Yang couldn’t find the energy to move at all. Now that the flames had returned, exhaustion sank deep into her bones. Every breath became a painful struggle, but she had to keep breathing.
“You two seem to get along,” Blake commented, lightly rubbing Yang’s shoulder with one hand.
“She’s a good person. And easy to talk to...” Yang murmured, curling closer to Blake and letting her eyes drift shut. She didn’t know what she felt coming on - exhaustion or agony - but it was something. She tried to focus on Blake’s hand running up and down her arm, but even that eventually faded away.
It wouldn’t be long now. Part of her was relieved that the end was near. Part of her wanted to hang on to every second she had left. Mostly, she was just...tired.
“I brought you some food.” Blake held up the small bag she’d carried in with her but, when Yang didn’t immediately voice her hunger, set it aside. “But you can eat later.”
So much was being put off until ‘later’ that Yang wondered how much she would actually get to. Eating, later. Vale, later. Cecelia, later. Only Blake and Ruby mattered to her right now.
With so little time left, she was beginning to accept that she would never see Ruby again. The last time they spoke, as Ruby headed off to Atlas, would be their last memory. If Yang had known, she wouldn’t have let Ruby go. Now, she couldn’t even remember if she’d told Ruby that she loved her.
“Can you help me...write a letter to Ruby?” she asked, realizing that she still had a chance to at least put it into words. “I’d do it myself, but...pretty sure I’d melt the pen.”
When she lifted her shaking hands, which were redder and hotter than they should be, Blake gently clutched them to temporarily still their quivers.
“Of course.”
As soon as Blake let go and searched for materials to write a letter, Yang dropped her hands and sighed. Even that much effort was exhausting.
“What do you want to say?” Blake asked after returning to the bed with a pen and small notepad.
“Um…‘Dear Ruby.’”
After writing that introduction, Blake waited for whatever Yang wanted to say next. The problem was...she didn’t know what to say next. How could she put her regret and sorrow into words? How could she explain the heartbreak she felt whenever she thought about never seeing Ruby again?
“I’m...I’m sorry,” she got out before becoming choked up with emotion. She closed her eyes, which burned with tears, and bit her quivering lip to hold a sob at bay.
What was she most sorry for? Not telling Ruby about the Phage? Losing Vale while Ruby was away? Not getting to say goodbye?
The bed dipped when Blake scooted closer and, when Yang opened her eyes, Blake set the notepad aside and gently ran her fingers through Yang’s hair.
“You have nothing to be sorry for…this isn’t your fault.”
“But I never told her.” The first tear slipped from Yang’s eyes, and another soon followed. “I never told her...” she whispered while her heart cracked in two. “She’s my...b-best friend and I...hid this from her…”
She should have told Ruby the moment she suspected something was wrong. Or she should have told Ruby when she knew something was wrong. Now, Ruby would learn about it in a letter, too late to do anything.
“Yang…” Blake whispered, leaning down to meet Yang’s gaze. “Your sister loves you. She knows that you always tried your best for her, and she’ll understand why you kept this to yourself.”
Yang hoped that was true. She hoped Ruby wouldn’t be mad at her. She hoped Ruby realized that...that she just didn’t want anything to change.
“I miss her,” she whispered, sniffling while Blake wiped away another tear.
“I know you do…” Eyes shimmering with tears, Blake rested a hand on Yang’s cheek. “I’m so sorry...” she whispered as Yang’s tears renewed. “I wish...I wish there was something I could do…”
When Blake bit her bottom lip and looked away, Yang reached up with the intent of setting her hand over Blake’s. But she never completed the gesture. She knew how harshly her skin burned, and she didn’t want to burn Blake again.
But Yang thought of something that would provide some measure of solace. It might make Blake feel better, too.
“Maybe...maybe there is something you can do…”
Latching on to the statement, Blake nodded for Yang to explain.
“When I’m gone...will you look after Ruby? Just...check on her every once in a while. Make sure she’s ok?”
If possible, Blake looked even sadder, but she squeezed Yang’s hand and said, “Of course I will.”
“Thank you…”
Knowing that Blake would keep an eye on Ruby made Yang feel significantly better. Ruby would, in turn, keep an eye on Blake. The two most important people in Yang’s life...watching out for one another. They would be fine without her. She still didn’t want to leave them, but...the end of her life wasn’t the end of theirs. They would grow old, they would find happiness, and they would change Remnant for the better.
Yang was lucky to have been a part of their journeys for the time that she had. Even though she wished that she’d done many things differently, somehow she’d made enough good choices that someone like Blake stood by her side until the end. That meant more to her than she could ever fully express.
“There’s something I want to tell you...” she whispered. As soon as their eyes met though, she lost her nerve. “But I shouldn’t. It’s selfish.”
“You can be selfish sometimes, Yang. I wish you’d be selfish more often...”
Yang’s parents taught her to put others before herself. She’d done her best to live that way, but looking at Blake now...knowing that this was one of her last chances to admit her feelings…she didn’t want to regret this like everything else.
“You’re incredible,” she began. “And I want you to know that if...if I wasn’t...dying...I’d want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
That was the biggest confession she’d ever made, and she didn’t regret it in the slightest when Blake’s eyes filled with emotion.
“I feel the same,” Blake whispered before planting a quick kiss on Yang’s lips. As soon as she pulled away, tucking her hair behind her ear, Yang beamed brighter than she had in quite some time.
“You do?” she asked, only to softly laugh when Blake nodded. “I’m sorry I don’t have much time left,” she added, feeling another smile pop up when Blake dryly laughed.
“Yes, because that’s something I blame you for.”
After shaking her head, Blake caught Yang’s gaze and attempted another smile. That smile disappeared when Yang winced at a sudden flareup in her chest. Groaning at the fresh spike of misery, she leaned away from Blake and clutched a hand to her heart.
It hurt. It hurt so bad that if she could live without a heart, she’d gladly tear hers out.
“Yang, stay with me…” Blake said, her voice soft and pleading while Yang fought against the raging flames. They were so strong now. They roared against her dwindling control and pushed against her skin, searching for a breaking point. She was losing - she couldn’t contain them anymore. They were so much stronger than her -
“Stay with me, Yang...just stay with me...”
Blake’s voice instilled a moment of clarity that Yang latched onto like a lifeline. She ignored the burning in her chest. She focused on the future they both wanted - the chance to be together for longer than this moment - and gradually returned from the edge.
The fire retreated only far enough to let her take another breath, but she took it. And when she finally opened her eyes, Blake leaned forward and pressed another quick kiss to her lips.
“I’m glad you were finally selfish,” she whispered before drawing back and giving Yang a long look of relief. “But I’ll be really upset if you leave me right now.”
Yang tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. Instead, she mustered a small smile and sank into the bed. Blake squeezed her hand, a subtle gesture of support, as she closed her eyes and swallowed around a growing lump in her throat.
Now, her heart hurt from the Phage and from longing for a life that wouldn’t be. She wished that she could have seen more of that future with Blake. She wished that she could have seen the end of the war. She wished that Ruby was here.
Unfortunately, the time for wishing was over. Now, all she had left was waiting for the end. Would she even know when it arrived? Or would it just be...nothing?
Once upon a time, she would have a witty response to that. Now...she was just ready for the pain to stop.