Carry That Weight

So since I’m apparently in a huge RWBY mood right now, have a short not-quite-drabble I wrote in anticipation for the finale regarding Blake and Yang immediately after… well, episode 11. Season 3 spoilers, obviously, especially for episode 11.

Yang Xiao Long was no slouch when it came to taking punishment, but this pain was unlike any she had ever felt. The comforting support of her Aura was nowhere to be found. The rage and power that normally filled her when she was hurt was draining away, leaving an empty void that quickly filled with pure agony. Even her adrenaline had abandoned her, leaving her unable to even lift her head to see why her arm was hurting so much.

All she had now with pain. That, and the uneven, jerky motion of Blake carrying her away from the fight and that swordsman. Blake had been stabbed… somewhere. The chest, maybe? Her stomach? Everything after hearing Blake’s cry of pain was kind of a blur, the details slipping away. Her arm throbbed again, and though the pain made her try to curl into a ball all she could do was clench her muscles.

Desperate to distract herself from the unbearable agony, she focused on Blake instead. Her skin was cold and sweaty, and she winced in pain with every other step she took. Her breathing was quick paced and staccato. Despite this, she held onto Yang with what felt like all of her strength.

“Blake…” she croaked out, trying to shift her weight to be less unwieldy. Blake, to her credit, didn’t falter at the sudden surprise.

“Shh… you’ll be ok, Yang. I’ll find help for you…” Blake took a quick, deep, shuddering breath. Trying to fight through the pain, Yang figured. Ridiculous. Blake had been stabbed and she still insisted on dealing with things on her own.

“No, Blake…” It took several painful seconds for Yang to catch her breath and continued her thought. “I can help. Don’t… don’t take this on alone… not again.” Silence. Nothing but Blake’s increasingly difficult movement and the draining emptiness. After a few moments without a response, Yang began to shift her weight again, to break from Blake’s grip. “I can walk… you don’t have to carry me…”

“Yang, I… I don’t think you understand…” Blake’s voice sounded dangerously close to breaking, proving to Yang that she had decided to shoulder too much, the weight of it all threatening to crush her. That thought, and the pain in the voice of her beautiful friend, began to banish the crushing emptiness inside her. Yang looked up from Blake’s shoulder, where she had been held tight like a baby, and the two locked eyes. With a sudden surge of strength, Yang reached up to caress Blake’s cheek, and everything made sense. With its source now painfully obvious, the impossible sense of emptiness returned and sapped away any lingering strength Yang had kept hidden. The last thing she saw was Blake’s face contorting into an inhuman shape of sorrow and guilt, and with that sight the emptiness swallowed her into unconsciousness.

Blake Belladonna quietly carried her teammate through the night. She had no idea what had transpired with the others while she has been fighting Adam, and therefore no idea where they would end up, but it was all she could do to begin repaying all Yang had done for her, to begin to replace what Yang had lost because of her. It was all she could do for her friend.