Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time Velvet Scarlatina saw a ghost was when she was 5 years old.

It was late at night - that time of night where time seems to still like molasses around you and the air is dead and cold as if to witness it is a slight against the universe itself - when Velvet opened her eyes, blinking away sleep, unsure as to why her mind had told her to wake up right then.

Perhaps the muffled sobbing outside of her window was what had stirred her that night. She’d stayed awake, staring into that cold, dead air draped over her room and listened to that sobbing, unsure as to who could be so sad so late at night.

Velvet slipped out from under the covers before pulling them around her shoulders, shivering against the night’s chill and the heaviness tightening in her chest. With light, cautious footsteps, she came to the window, hoping maybe to glimpse who was sobbing, who was so hurt, who had forced her eyes awake with dreadful curiosity.

The world outside her bedroom window was dark save for a sliver of argent moonlight that washed against the street outside like a window had been opened in the inky blackness of the night sky. In that sliver stood a woman, fair and beautiful in her cloak of stark white and her dark hair pulled into an intricate bun at the back of her head. Her hands were pulled tight around her shoulders - in fear, or bracing herself from the cold, or perhaps even wounded - as she swiveled around. Velvet could see the tears falling from her eyes even from afar, glistening in the glow of the moon, and she wiped away a tear of her own before opening her window.

“Excuse me?” she called out, small and helpless but hopeful all the same. “Are you okay, Miss?”

The woman turned to her, surprised perhaps by Velvet’s words, and shuddered. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but no words fell from her lips.

Velvet leaned forward. “Excuse me?”

The woman stepped closer to the window, tucked in on herself as her tears continued to fall. Again, her mouth opened, and again there were no words to hear.

“What are you saying, Miss? Do you need help?”

The woman, again, stepped closer, and now Velvet could see that it was not tears that streamed down her face, but the colour of silver that drained from her eyes as they turned stark white like her cloak, a sight offset by the scarlet clinging to her fingers as they curled around her shoulders.

“I’m so lost. Where am I?” she croaked, and Velvet screamed at the woman with blood-stained fingers and the molten silver tears. She fled from the window, fled from her room, fled down the hallway hoping with every breath and every step that the woman wouldn’t pursue her before flinging herself onto her parents’ bed.

That night, her parents searched inside the house. Outside the house. Everywhere they could look for this woman while Velvet kept herself safe under the covers with the lights on and her favourite stuffed toy in her lap.

There was no woman to be found.

The next day, her parents went to the police. They told them about a woman that had come to their daughter’s window the night before and frightened her. They gave the description Velvet had said, and they told her that the police would be looking.

There was no woman to be found.

And many years later, Velvet would hear about a legendary Huntress. A woman in a stark white cloak with her dark hair in a bun at the back of her head. Her eyes glistened like argent moonlight, and she had gone missing many years ago, her body not to be found.

The first time Velvet Scarlatina saw a ghost was when she was 5 years old, and on this day she would know who she’d seen, and she’d wipe away a tear from the corner of her eye.

Walking through the ruins of Beacon felt like walking through a graveyard at night. A dark, liminal space with an air of death falling over it that made her stomach lurch with every footfall through its sullen, colourless ruins. Every dead thing lay there, beyond sight for the comfort of those within, yet always a step behind, or a step ahead, or hidden in the shadows where you’d hesitate to look twice at that sudden movement out of the corner of your eye.

Team CFVY’s job - their sworn duty - was to help clear out the remaining Grimm in the area, a job made seemingly more futile by the unending waves of them that seemed to appear despite their diligent work. So many days after the Fall of Beacon and it still felt so strong to be holding their weapons, firing their weapons, using their weapons to wreak more destruction where so much had already been wrought.

Velvet’s bones were leaden, weighed down by so much in so little time. Exhaustion tugged at her eyes, begging her, imploring her to lay down and succumb to a sleep that would be overrun by nightmares. Her skin was cold, the hairs on her arms standing upright to try and reach for any warmth or comfort they could find, and yet even under warm blankets and layered clothes she still felt cold. Cold, and fragile, and tired.

The only heat she found were in the strange and scattered spots of warmth she would walk through at random points during the day, spots that would disappear after she went back and tried to figure them out, spots that would vanish when she called for one of her teammates to feel for themselves.

She could see in their faces they were growing so very tired, perhaps even too tired to deal with mysterious hot spots that Velvet claimed in her sleepless state were real. Yatsu’s head slumped forwards and every one of his sword swings were sloppy, listless, and she could even see where the muscles that once tightened around his arms were beginning to atrophy, if only slightly. The Fall of Beacon and its tiring, dreadful aftermath had not been kind to him.

Fox’s mind remained silent, still. He kept comments to himself where once he would deliver quick jabs and witty remarks that only they could hear. Colour drained from his face, just as it drained from his voice, and all his words were laced with an uncharacteristic pessimism he’d never shown before. The Fall of Beacon and its horrid, dreadful truth had not been kind to him, either.

And Coco?

Velvet could hardly tell how she felt anymore. All her emotions were hidden behind a stony wall, a stern expression, and a dark pair of sunglasses. When Yatsu’s strikes failed, Coco barked at him to pull his weight. When Fox’s words became harsh and impatient, Coco was quick to step in and shut him up. She showed no hurt, no pain, just a resolute determination to continue clearing out the endless, endless Grimm.

The Fall of Beacon and its suffocating, encroaching, dreadful mourning had not been kind to her, but she wouldn’t let anyone know that. Not then. Not when her anxieties and doubts and sorrows were hidden behind a stony wall, a stern expression, and a dark pair of sunglasses.

And, on her own, Velvet still walked through spots of immense heat that seared her skin and filled her lungs with an acrid, strong smoke. Every spot seemed to grow hotter than the last, and yet it would only last a moment before vanishing, leaving Velvet hacking and gasping for air as she braced her hands against her wobbly knees.

When Velvet’s mind regained its hazy focus and her breath returned stable and fresh to her lungs, she allowed herself to stand again and scan the area. In such a world of devastation, such a phenomenon could mean the presence of a Grimm, some new breed they would have no knowledge of, tormenting them as they waded through the death and ruin. It could also mean the presence of someone dangerous, someone powerful, someone with a semblance capable of taking down Huntsmen and Huntresses without them realizing it. Perhaps those who’d committed this atrocity were still here, and Velvet didn’t deny herself the brief indulgent daydream of delivering justice to them personally.

But there were no Grimm save for the Beowolves and Ursa and Nevermores circling Beacon tower and moving through the lanes and buildings and remnants of the place that she had, for almost two years, called home.

With a cloudy sky above, Velvet made her way through the courtyard just in front of the old dorms, her knuckles white as she gripped her rifle - an impromptu replacement for Anesidora, which still held so many pictures of people she would never see again, of times that felt like eons ago. Her eyes kept vigil over the barren ruins, firing off the occasional shot at the Grimm that wandered too near for comfort. They were frighteningly easy to take down, and as their bodies dissolved into black pillars of smoke against the dorms she wondered just how that night had been such an agonizing defeat when these monsters were hardly even a challenge after the fact.

She approached another, firing a few quick shots into the Ursa to bring it down; as it did, a flash of heat washed over her. Once again a mystery, and once again searing like magma against her skin, so hot that Velvet dropped her weapon and instinctively coiled her arms around herself in defence. The heat tore between her muscles, burrowing into her bones and spreading like wildfire.

Velvet grimaced, trying not to let the pain take her down so easily, but it wasn’t just a wash of heat that came over her. She felt it, too, in her eyes, stinging and dry suddenly before tears welled in the corner and fell along her skin, just as hot and just as unbearable as that burning sensation overtaking her entire body.

Velvet wanted to scream, wanted to wail and holler and cry in anguish - and that was so strange to her, in that moment, that her first reaction was sadness, despair, and not pain and torment.

As soon as it had begun, the pain retreated out of her bones, out from between her muscles, and finally became a pinprick in the centre of her chest, as if her heart had been pierced.

And soon, that feeling also vanished.

And in its stead was a familiar face.

Velvet blinked away her stray tears, inhaling sharp, cool breaths as she recovered from the assault, and when her senses came back to her she was certain she must have been imagining things, must have been hallucinating some solemn wish that only now chose to manifest before her.

A warrior, clad in dulled bronze and brilliant scarlet, her soft emerald eyes searching, desperate for something indistinguishable. Her long, red hair was pulled into a ponytail that fell down her back, disheveled from battle, and her hands clutched her chest as it rose and fell with jagged breaths.

Pyrrha Nikos.

Pyrrha Nikos of Team JNPR.

Pyrrha Nikos, the invincible girl.

Velvet blinked away another tear, and another, and another, until she gave up on trying to stop them.

Pyrrha Nikos had died the night Beacon tower fell.

Velvet studied her, watching her pained expression twist with every shallow breath she took.

“Pyrrha?” Velvet muttered; perhaps she hoped that the reports were wrong, that Pyrrha wasn’t dead. After all, here she was, kneeling in the middle of Beacon’s sullen ruins, breathing, watching Velvet approach her with that frightened, desperate need in her eyes.

It was a cold look, one that sent a chill up Velvet’s spine, one that pulled her nerves and begged her to run, to flee, and yet Velvet approached nonetheless. Cold or no cold, chill or no chill, she was braver than many thought of her, and her friend was clearly hurt and in distress.

“Pyrrha?” she repeated, approaching slowly with her hand outstretched. With every step, the world around her grew warmer, setting beads of sweat upon her skin that rolled down her cheeks like tears. With every step, she felt that pinprick of pain press against her chest, digging into the bone with searing intensity. With every step, Pyrrha’s eyes grew fearful, sorrowful, and she clutched her chest tighter as red flame spilled between her knuckles.

“No,” Velvet breathed, hardly a word on its own, but she continued to step forward.

Each step brought a new pain, a new sensation of flame and ash and cinders burning holes into her body and heart and voice, both a warning and a threat.

“No,” she said again, her voice cracking and her throat thick with dread as she continued to step forward.

Pyrrha’s eyes trained on her still, growing more and more desperate while falling more and more cold, all while the red flames between her knuckles never faltered, never faded.

“No, no, no,” Velvet began to sob, feeling those tears hot against her cheeks. She reached out for Pyrrha, desperate for some semblance of hope, desperate to find in that moment what Pyrrha was looking for.

Her hand fell upon Pyrrha’s shoulder, and Pyrrha went still, her eyes wide in shock and pain. At that moment, the sensation became more intense than Velvet had ever felt, and she recoiled at the hot contact, falling backwards and scrambling away from-

From where Pyrrha had been but a blink ago.

Velvet sat there, her heart hammering against her chest as she watched that spot with dreaded curiosity. Pyrrha Nikos had been there, right there, and now she wasn’t. Velvet looked around, trying to see perhaps if in that blink of time she’d managed to run elsewhere, or if there was something that she’d missed; all she saw were the ruins of her old home.

Her breath slowly returned to her lungs, though her racing heart never slowed its pace. Yatsu found her several minutes later, staring still at that spot as her hand clutched her chest, waiting for that pinprick of pain to return; it would at least be something to reassure her.

The Fall of Beacon and its harrowing ghosts had not been kind to Velvet Scarlatina. Where bodies lay and stone crumbled, where blood dried and ash blew in cold, dismal winds, there was so much pain.

This was the kind of pain Velvet would come to be haunted by, and though she didn’t quite know it then, it was the same kind of pain she’d been haunted by before.

The energy in their team had changed over the month since Beacon’s fall.

Before the fall, her and her friends would often spend their down time together laughing with each other, sharing videos and stories with the occasional light quips thrown around. Other times, they would sit in peaceful silence, content to mind their own business in the presence of friends.

But now, rooms they inhabited felt like massive, lonely chambers, their grief and quiet reflection like a wall closing in around them all. The silence was no longer a welcome respite from the frenzy of a busy day, and any remarks were curt and straightforward.

Velvet sat with her camera in her hands, idly thumbing through the various photographs she’d taken before. So many of them held such happy memories - training sessions with her friends, small dorm parties that towed the line between appropriate and out of control, pictures of Huntsmen and Huntresses that were no longer with them.

Her thumb fell on the button again; she was hardly paying much attention to what the screen displayed, knowing that if she dwelled on any of them she might invite the same misery that found her in the graveyard of her old home. When she did glance down, however, she stopped and allowed herself a moment to take it in.

During the Vytal festival, the Beacon students had held a party off-campus to welcome the other students coming in and kick off the event. Coco had been the one to convince Velvet to attend, having even offered to help her do her hair and makeup with a smirk and a wink that Velvet had tried not to let get to her; Fox’s private comments to her had not helped her.

“While we’re at it,” Coco added, “I’m sure we can find you something cute to wear, too. You’ve got some great legs to show off.”

Velvet’s cheeks flushed pink. Coco had always had a reputation as a flirt, but never would she have expected herself to be the recipient of her remarks. Of course, this was probably just Coco being nice, or trying to instill a bit of confidence in her. There wasn’t much about Velvet that was particularly special, and in fact more often than not she found herself so uniquely plain compared to so many other women on campus. And it wasn’t as though Coco hadn’t tried her luck with practically all of them, she reckoned.

She curled in on herself, clutching her sides anxiously. “You think so?”

“Oh yeah, babe, you’re gonna be a smokeshow tonight!”

Velvet had to smirk at that. The thought of her being a ‘smokeshow’ was so foreign to her she almost had a hard time believing it. Still, it did feel nice to be complimented like this, and the flutter of courage in her chest was more than encouraging.

As was the way Coco looked at her, it seemed. To anyone who didn’t know her any better, they might have hardly assumed much of the quick glance, but Velvet had seen Coco look at plenty of other women this way, and it really only meant one thing.

It would take Velvet the entire night to get the butterflies out of her stomach because of that single look.

There were parts of Coco that Velvet was still uncertain about, that much she wouldn’t deny. As a leader, she was distant and self-serving, more concerned with holding up an image of perfection than actually leading her team. Then there was the coddling, or at least what Velvet felt was coddling. On the field, it frustrated her to have to keep to herself, saving up image after image in Anesidora only for them to sit idle until Coco deemed it okay to use them. Velvet’s Semblance and weapon were big sources of pride for her, and to be told to sideline them in almost every fight tampered that pride more than she’d ever admit aloud.

And yet, there were parts of Coco that Velvet was more than certain about. As a woman, Coco was fierce, determined, strutting with such confidence in her steps and posture that Velvet could swear she was growing more confident just by being around her. Behind closed doors, there was a side of Coco that many wouldn’t see, one that checked on her friends for cuts or scrapes, one that woke up early to brew coffee and that remembered the way each of her teammates took it.

And, of course, one that would help Velvet look nice and feel confident enough to go to a party.

Velvet brushed back a few loose strands of hair, tucking them behind her ear as her smile grew. “Okay, then! I trust you know what you’re doing.”

Coco nodded. “Of course I do. Now come on, I’ve got a super cute skirt that’ll look super hot on you. Maybe we can find something to show off that midriff of yours, too.”

Velvet followed as Coco led her to her closet, watching her sift through the various articles, while Fox’s voice filled Velvet’s mind.

“Get it, girl!” he commented cheekily.

Velvet rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing to get, Fox.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Velv, but consider: you’re one of the only girls who’s ever gotten the ‘legs’ comment from Coco,” he replied with a snicker. “I think this might be your lucky night.”

Velvet wished that it had been her lucky night.

Instead, she’d spent it on the sidelines, feeling gorgeous and too shy to flaunt it even with all of Coco’s hype.

Looking down at the image, it seemed so long ago, and yet it still managed to make her blush all the same. She wouldn’t deny how attractive she’d felt that night, and her only regret came from not allowing herself to try her luck with Coco. It’s not as if Coco would have said no, of course, but she knew she wouldn’t have allowed herself to do anything even if she weren’t held back by her dismal self-esteem.

There were parts of herself that she was so unsure of, and her feelings for Coco were one of them. It would have been easier to play the part, to arch her back and tilt her head and laugh one too many times for a night with the girl she was still crushing on, but Velvet knew she wanted more, and she knew Coco wouldn’t want that much more.

And now the hard part was finding it in herself to move on.

Moving on, of course, when Coco was in so much pain and probably needed the same affirmation she’d offer to her teammates in quiet moments where the mask of superiority fell and she let herself be vulnerable. It was a vulnerability that Velvet desperately missed, and it was a vulnerability that Coco hid even more ardently these days behind her dark shades.

“You know, you can’t bring them back.”

Velvet blinked a few times before turning her attention to Fox, whose hands were folded in his lap and whose blank gaze fell tiredly to the floor.

She pouted and clutched her camera tighter. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I don’t think you want to accept it.”

Velvet’s lips pursed. She knew Fox was right, but she couldn’t help but feel vexed by the memories of a time before all of this death and misery. Before mourning became a regular part of their day that none of them cared to admit, before these photos were the only thing keeping a spark of hope flickering in her chest-

A small pinprick of heat flashed in the center of her chest, and Velvet brought her hand up to dampen it, but by the time her palm fell upon it the feeling had vanished.

Velvet sighed; of course, there were the actual ghosts. Velvet had long realized what they were, though she still felt so uncertain as to why it was only her that could see them. She’d seen one as a child where no one else had, and though she hadn’t seen Pyrrha again since that day, Velvet found it hard to shake the feelings her presence had brought.

No one else knew about the ghosts haunting Beacon. No one else could see the ghosts haunting Velvet Scarlatina. When she tried telling them, she was met with sympathetic gazes - “you’re dealing with a lot of trauma right now” - or suspicious glares - “it’s just your mind playing tricks on you” - and the isolation that followed was unfortunately all-too familiar.

Velvet sighed and closed her camera. “Maybe we should all get some sleep,” she suggested. “It’s been a long day.”

Yatsu and Fox nodded, quick to get to their feet and head over to their impromptu bunkhouse (though not without a final, exasperated glance from Fox). Velvet stood to join them, but stopped when Coco remained seated.

“You too, Coco,” Velvet requested.

Coco shook her head. “You guys get your rest. I’m not tired.”

Velvet furrowed her brows and stepped over to her. “Come on, please. We all need to rest.”

“Velvet, I don’t need to sleep.”

Velvet’s gut tightened at the direct, stern tone her voice took on, but ‘no’ wasn’t an answer she’d be accepting. Of all of them, Coco was certainly the most exhausted. She tried to hide it behind a veneer of confidence she’d curated since their days at Pharos, but it was crumbling beneath the weight of their dire situation.

Velvet huffed and crossed her arms. “Alright, glasses off. Look at me.”

“Velv-”

Velvet shook her head indignantly and raised her eyebrows; there were few times were she was willing to stand up to Coco, but when she was exhausted, annoyed, and worried for her leader and the woman she was sure she was falling in love with, she wouldn’t let her shyness hold her back.

Coco let out an exasperated sigh and stood up. “How are you, Velv?”

“This isn’t about me, Coco.”

“Let’s make it about you, then.”

Velvet frowned in frustration. “You’re tired, Coco. You’re not doing a very good job convincing me otherwise.”

“Well maybe I’m not trying to convince you otherwise, Velvet!” Coco fired back, her voice suddenly harsh, causing Velvet to take a step back.

The air around them became heavy and thick, and the echo of anger in Coco’s voice rang in Velvet’s ears. Shadows grew long and wary, as if the world itself had recoiled with Velvet.

Coco stopped and stilled as Velvet lowered her defensive stance, but her face remained like broken stone. “I’m going to go patrol. You get some rest.”

Before Velvet could oppose her command, Coco reached for her weapon on her belt and brushed past Velvet toward the front door of the bunkhouse. The room breathed along with Velvet’s heavy exhale as she watched Coco grow even further until she was alone in the common room, sleep tugging at her entire body the way she was sure it tugged at Coco’s.

So much of her wished she could convince Coco to rest, to not burn herself out fighting a futile battle. She longed for that vulnerable side of Coco again, the one that checked her team for cuts and scrapes, or that made them coffee in the morning exactly the way they all liked it.

Perhaps, Velvet reckoned, that vulnerable side of her died alongside everything else at Beacon.

“Home, sweat home!” Fox called out as they approached the Kingdom of Vacuo.

“Don’t you mean ‘sweet’ home?” Yatsu wondered, to which Velvet shook her head.

“No, he’s right,” Velvet groaned. “It’s so hot here.”

Fox pressed his lips together. “I told you guys to ditch the layers. Here in Vacuo, sleeves are your worst enemy. As are the mole crabs. And the environmental hazards.”

“Great, more death,” Coco muttered as she hiked along in front of the group. In the time since they left Beacon’s desolate ruins behind, Velvet was glad that she’d at least regained some of her biting sass.

“We were told this is our best option for continuing our training,” Yatsu pointed out.

This much was true: Glynda had insisted that there was nothing more they could do to reclaim Beacon, and with Atlas closed off and Haven so far away, Shade Academy had been the easiest and best choice for their team. The headmaster was already accepting transfer students from Beacon, and with Fox excited to ‘return to his roots’, their options had boiled down to the desert wasteland they found themselves marching through now.

At least, Velvet hoped, there would be nothing in these shifting, dry dunes to haunt her anymore.

Shade Academy loomed large and imposing over them as they approached, a welcome respite from the heat of their journey through the city itself. It was hard to accept that this would be their new home, however. Between the wary eyes of the city’s residents during their approach and the all-too alien atmosphere, being here felt less like coming home and more like imposing on something that just wasn’t theirs.

Velvet wondered if it would ever feel like home; the doubts swimming in her mind almost made it too easy to believe it wouldn’t.

Still, it was a new beginning, and though it wasn’t one that she was entirely excited for it would at least allow Team CFVY the chance to try again, to become a team anew and work through the ghosts of the past. Perhaps her outlook was a little more optimistic than anyone else’s, and even she admitted it would be a much better opportunity were it not in the middle of a sandy, scorching desert that had made her work through her water bottle nearly six times now, but perhaps optimism was what they needed right now after everything else.

They arrived at the gates soon enough and Shade’s staff let them into the courtyard. Velvet took in her surroundings, trying to find some part of the surroundings to latch onto, something to reinforce her optimism. It was a new day, a new home, and as hard to deal with as it maybe would be, she’d set aside any gripes about sand and heat and exhaustion in favour of finding a bit of hope again.

The walls of the academy towered over them, its pyramid-like shape reaching to touch the heavens. Velvet removed her camera from its case and began to snap a few pictures, preferring to have something to remember this moment by as the team moved forward.

“Make way for the Beacon brigade!” someone called derisively, and Velvet’s eyes snapped over to where two women stood; she couldn’t quite name either of them, but she remembered them from the Vytal festival.

Her face fell as she lowered her camera, but Coco was quick to challenge them. She planted her hands on her hips, stepping forward with a strut more angry than confident, and looked them over from behind her shades.

“Is that supposed to offend us?” Then, with a shade of sass Velvet had been missing since after the fall: “Cause your outfit’s already doing a good enough job of that.”

The woman scoffed and leered at Coco, but before she could counter the jab, Coco was already leading her team away, her expression once again stony.

“Nice one, Adel,” Fox said telepathically, a remark that coaxed a small smirk from Coco.

Velvet smiled; new beginnings after all. Maybe it wasn’t ideal - in the end, she would have much preferred to stay at Beacon - but it was their chance to heal and move on from how Beacon’s ruins siphoned all their energy and hope every day they remained in its vicinity.

She raised her camera to take another picture of the courtyard as they approached the entrance to the massive academy, snapping a few photos of various students and the architecture and-

Velvet gasped, and shrieked, and dropped her camera to the stone ground as she backed into her team, her hands grabbing for someone to hold onto. Yatsu came behind her and held her as her heart rumbled in her chest, her eyes scanning the horizon for what - or who - she’d seen in her camera.

“Velvet!” Coco called, jogging to her side and reaching for her weapon. “What is it?”

Velvet’s breaths returned in jagged, shallow hisses, and her eyes darted between the different faces of all the students now gathering to stare at her.

None of them looked like the girl she saw in her camera, staring at her with dead, hopeless eyes.

None of them looked like May Zedong.

“No,” Velvet breathed, her fingers curling tighter around Yatsu’s arms holding her steady. “No, no! Stop following me!”

By now, she’d drawn somewhat of a crowd to the courtyard of ogling students, either hiding snickers behind their hands or hesitating to approach in fear of what erratic actions Velvet could take next.

“Velv,” Coco said softly beside her, pulling her back towards the entrance with Yatsu as Fox went to retrieve her camera. “Velv, come on.”

“I-I saw...Coco I saw-” But she couldn’t say what she saw, not when she knew how they’d react, how they’ve all reacted before. Instead, she bit her lip and let herself be guided away as her breathing evened out, wondering why she could let her guard down knowing that this would haunt her and her team forever.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Velvet blinked and looked up at Coco, her gaze tired and glazed over.

“I saw another one,” Velvet said in a low, weary voice.

Coco’s lips pursed and she quirked an eyebrow at her. “Another ghost.”

Velvet nodded solemnly. Another ghost, this time looking like Brawnz. She hadn’t been particularly close to him, having only met him a few times during the Vytal festival, but she’d know his face anywhere. In fact, she knew it so well because it was one of a few she’d seen several times since arriving at Shade a couple of weeks ago.

Velvet could hardly go a day without seeing phantom images in her periphery, there one moment and gone the next, or without seeing them watching from afar, unique faces belonging to unique people who had died at the battle of Beacon. There was nothing she could do but to blink them away or shake her head of the thoughts, but they would always come back. Whether in the shadows of her room at night, or sitting at empty spots in classrooms, or simply outside her dorm window bathed in the argent glow of desert moonlight, they were always there. Always looking right at her with desperate eyes that pried their way between her bones, pushing into her like pinpricks or tearing at her flesh and muscle.

And it was always tears of anguish that filled her eyes when she saw them. Despite the pain they brought with them and the exhaustion that followed their visits, she always shed tears of anguish.

Velvet wondered how her eyes hadn’t gone as dry as the desert around them with how much she’d cried since arriving here.

“You’re crying again, Velv.”

Coco’s cutting voice brought Velvet out of her trance, and she brought her fingers up to her cheek. Sure enough, warm tears streamed down her face and into the corners of her dry, cracked lips; the taste of salt was jarringly apparent then, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Sorry,” she said flatly. She looked up at Coco, finding something she hadn’t seen in some time ghosting across her features: concern, and it brought out a small flutter in Velvet’s chest.

Coco shrugged; despite her mask of detachment, Velvet recognized the slight curl to her lips and furrow of her brow from the days when Coco would check up on her team. It had grown foreign, but even lost hopes could return in a faraway place.

“Look, Velv, I know things are tough here. And they’re far from perfect, too,” she said, sitting down beside her with the presence of a leader but the familiarity of a friend.

Still, she felt so far away. Far in the way where you don’t even know if you want to reach out and try to pull them back anymore. In another life, Velvet would have. In this life, had things been different and her nights filled with rest instead of fear, Velvet would have.

“I know,” she responded lazily.

Coco pressed her lips together, a once again familiar expression crossing into her features. “I hate seeing you upset, Velv. We’re all here for you.” Then, with a slight dip of her head as her dark eyes peered over the frame of her sunglasses, “I’m here for you.”

Instantly, it was like being transported to that other life. That life where things had been different and Beacon hadn’t fallen. That life where they’d continued their studies together, stressing about waking up on time for exams and not whether or not they would ever be okay again.

Velvet wanted to reach, to grab onto that future and pull it to her. She knew that that was where she really belonged, not in some twisted, macabre tale of misery and melancholy. She wanted to live that life, wanted to be a part of that story instead, wanted to think that maybe she and Coco could have...if she’d been brave enough…

The reflection in Coco’s sunglasses attracted her attention down, and Velvet remembered that her reality was sunken, tired eyes and a ghostly pallor stretching over her skin; she could hardly see Coco through those dark-tinted lenses. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t see anything through them.

A frown tugged at her lips and she wiped at her sleepless eyes. “No you’re not. I’m not lying about what I’ve seen.”

Coco shook her head and pulled her sunglasses back over her eyes. “It’s kind of hard to believe you’re seeing ghosts-”

“I know what I saw! They were there, Coco! They’re always there!” Velvet snapped.

“I believe you. We all saw some fucked-up shit at Beacon.”

“You don’t believe me, though!” Her heart hammered against her chest, sending a dangerous rattling through her body. Velvet glared furiously at Coco, and all pretense of being okay had collapsed within that statement.

But Coco didn’t snap back. Coco, who was not one to take getting yelled at lying down - Coco, who always had a quick, sharp, forceful rebuttal for everything - stood her ground with a stony expression, a deep sigh, and her gaze hidden behind those dark sunglasses.

“Do you see any now?” she asked calmly.

Velvet wrapped her arms around her midsection, hugging herself tightly as the adrenaline pumping through her veins ripped her down from her high and back to reality. She scanned the room, finding none of those figures haunting her tonight, and dipped her head shyly.

“No. No, there aren’t any here, but Coco they’re there I promise! They’re there in class, they’re there in training and on missions, they’re there at night when I can’t sleep. Coco, I don’t sleep well anymore.”

Velvet shut her eyes against the tears she expected to feel, but her eyes and cheeks stayed dry. She scrunched her face as if she could somehow squeeze her tears into being, but they’d all run out at Beacon, and now she couldn’t even mourn properly.

A comforting hand rested on her shoulder, and Velvet peered over at Coco, who offered her a smile just shy of comforting. “Fine. Velvet, I hear you. Okay? I hear you,” she soothed, though her hand remained stiff against her, and Velvet could even swear for a moment that she was trembling.

“You think I’m crazy,” Velvet accused, pulling further into herself.

“For what we’ve been through, I think you’re surprisingly sane,” Coco assured her, her confident voice just barely cracking.

Velvet stifled a small sniffle and regarded Coco with something she’d thought she’d lost in the ruins of their home. Maybe it was trust, one that had been fractured like broken stone and left in barren, derelict ruins to waste away with all that had happened, and yet despite everything Velvet knew that she’d made that decision to trust Coco long ago.

Maybe it was nervousness, something Velvet was no stranger to. It had haunted her life for so long in ways that always caused her to look over her shoulders or think twice before speaking, and it had always been so easy to come undone around Coco and to let all of those old phantoms air out. And yet, in this moment, Velvet didn’t feel like looking over her shoulders or thinking twice, or saying ‘sorry’ or mincing her words.

So maybe, Velvet reckoned, it was longing. There were many things she’d longed for, and here she was caught in that web again. She longed for Coco’s approval, longed for her respect, longed for her admiration and attraction.

Right now, she just longed to see her.

Velvet reached up slowly, cautiously, careful not to startle Coco as the pads of her fingers came to rest against the temples of her sunglasses. Coco startled slightly as if she’d been stung, pulling away slightly and defensively, before Velvet leaned a little bit closer.

“Let me see,” she implored, and Coco acquiesced, letting Velvet slide the frames off of her face.

She’d never seen Coco’s eyes so swollen and red before.

Velvet’s heart plummeted; she could only barely fathom how long Coco had been hiding her hurt from her team, and the instinct to reprimand herself for not noticing this sooner nearly invited those old phantoms back into her initial reaction. She held them back, but that wouldn’t stop the heartache she felt as Coco sniffled and pressed her lips together indignantly.

“Like what you see?” she growled, neither aggressive nor feisty but wracked with hurt nonetheless.

“Coco…” Velvet said just beneath an exhale, “I’m sorry.”

Coco shrugged and squeezed her eyes shut as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Don’t be. We all saw some fucked-up shit at Beacon.” She held that look for a drawn-out, heavy beat before breathing a shaky sigh and opening her eyes again. “I wouldn’t really say there’s anyone here who understands what we went through.”

Velvet shook her head. “You have your team, Coco. You’ve always had your team.”

“Until I pushed Fox and Yatsu away,” Coco countered quickly. “That’s gonna take some time to fix.”

“Then what about me?” Velvet said suddenly, unaware that the thought had even crossed her mind until it had fallen from her lips. Coco blinked at her in surprise, and Velvet quickie scrambled to continue her statement as if it had been her proposition from the start.

“There’s me, Coco. I’m here for you, and I understand what you’re going through. But you please also have to understand what I’m going through - what I’m seeing! - and see that it’s real.” Velvet’s hand hovered hesitantly a few inches from Coco’s cheek, and she was so drawn to touch it that she nearly allowed herself to indulge that pang of longing that had been following her just below the surface for longer than she could remember.

“There’s me,” Velvet repeated. “It’s me. It’s you and me. I’ll be here for you if you’ll be here for me.”

Coco watched her still, her expression unreadable, and Velvet wondered when her face had gotten so close to hers, or how long she’d had that small scar just under her eye. Again, she was almost compelled to reach out and draw her thumb along the split skin, and again she rejected the temptation for fear that the anxieties and thoughts of inadequacy settling in her mind and heart weren’t so wrong after all.

Velvet began to pull away, but like a magnet Coco followed. Velvet’s still hand brushed against her cheek and she could feel the wet remnants of the last tears she’d shed, and perhaps Velvet was brave enough to let her hand stay there as her fingers curled lightly against her skin.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” Velvet whispered, careful not to break the calm stillness between them, a welcome respite from an otherwise gruelling reality. Maybe this was the life Velvet had always wanted, she reckoned, and though she wondered where the fanfare and jubilation would fit into it all, she knew there was little enough sense in wishing for anything else.

“You don’t have to be,” Coco told her; Velvet just barely caught the dip of her eyes down to her lips before they settled back into her gaze. “I’m here for you, and you’re here for me.”

“You and me,” Velvet said, bringing herself closer to Coco and feeling the uncharacteristic timidness of her breath against her lips that rattled her body with a shiver of apprehension and anticipation.

“Us,” Coco finished, closing the space between them and taking Velvet’s lips against her own.

Velvet had never expected her first kiss to be sad or guilty or so very tired, but she knew she’d take this kiss over any other kiss in any other life - and, despite it all, Coco tasted just as sweet as she’d always imagined.

And she had imagined. Velvet had imagined the way kissing Coco would be since her heart first skipped a beat and broadcast to her the feelings bubbling just under the surface she’d rejected for so long. She’d imagined Coco’s touch being firm, stable, holding her in place as she came undone against her and melted into the kiss with delicate moans and racing heartbeats.

That touch was no longer in her imagination, nor was the beating of her excited heart or the soft moans Coco drew from her throat. She let her fingers glide along Coco’s cheek and curl at the corner of her jaw while Coco pressed deeper into the kiss with a yearning Velvet could never have expected from her.

Coco’s hand lowered to Velvet’s shoulder as she pulled her closer, gasping between kisses as her thumb skated back and forth along her collar. Velvet moaned again, longer and deeper, reveling in finally indulging that secret, burning longing she’d long since believed to have been lost. It was so so easy to fall apart with Coco, and she thought she may never want to come back together if it meant feeling anything else that wasn’t this enchanting.

Velvet’s senses were aflame with everything about Coco; about the way her touch sent sparks through her body, jolting every inch of her awake and alive and oh so elated; about the way her own moans hummed in her throat, inviting Velvet further into the kiss with silent but fervent encouragement; about the sudden and jarring taste of salt mixing into the sweetness of Coco’s lips -

It was all ripped away in a moment, the air around them suddenly cold and barren that forcibly ejected Velvet from her heightened state of euphoria. She pulled back and blinked a few times as she allowed her breaths to catch up to the moment, and her gaze fell upon Coco as she began to stand; her shades had already been slipped back over her eyes, her expression once again a mask of painless indifference.

“Don’t do this to me, Velv,” she said, standing tall and not daring to look down at Velvet.

Velvet’s brow knitted in confusion and concern. “Coco?”

Coco shook her head, rubbed just under the lens of her shades with the heel of her palm, and exhaled sharply. “I’m going to bed.”

Velvet stood immediately, ready to follow her and hopefully figure out why Coco had pulled away so suddenly, what she had done to push her away like that. She wanted to reach, and so she did, reaching for that life falling further and further away as Coco retreated from the common room and down the hall.

“Coco, please! I’m sorry!” Velvet called, begged, mustered everything in her to not lose this, too. Her body swirled with the burning drive to not let this be another tragedy, not when they’d both suffered from them immensely, while the cold misery of loneliness threatened to pull her back into greying ruins and shifting, endless sands.

And among that flurry of sensations was the feeling of a pinprick in her chest.

Velvet stopped as if she’d been impaled, coughing up a stream of blood that didn’t spill from her mouth but tasted bitter all the same. Velvet clasped her chest as the piercing feeling drove further into her, splitting bone that did not split, tearing muscle that did not tear, piercing a heart that continued to beat.

She collapsed with a strained croak, falling to her knees as she braced herself against the pain, and she once again felt that overwhelming desire to scream and sob in anguish and grief. Though she fought the urge, she couldn’t muster the strength to fully brace herself for the wash of burning heat that overcame her as if every part of her had begun to burn away into ash.

“Velvet!” a voice called, and even in such immense pain and sadness Velvet could tell that it was Coco who’d called her.

Coco ran up to her side, immediately looking her over for anyone wounds. Velvet’s breaths came in short bursts, drawing Coco’s attention to her hands clasped over her chest.

“Does it hurt to breathe?” Coco asked, to which Velvet shook her head. Coco took hold of her hands, pulling against them before she immediately recoiled in pain. “Velv, you’re burning hot!”

Velvet knew the sensation all too well, and knew who always accompanied it. Her eyes drifted away from Coco, and there she was.

Pyrrha Nikos, clutching her chest, her head tilted up while her eyes glared down.

It was as dreadful an image as it was heartbreaking, and the way she trembled and jerked as Velvet felt more and more heat pour over her did nothing to calm her down. This was worse, she reckoned, than all the other times these specters had appeared to her, and there was something in the way she looked down at her that made Velvet sure that she knew it.

“Pyrrha,” Velvet choked out, partly hoping that Coco would hear her.

“Pyrrha?” Coco stammered. “What do you mean?”

“Behind you!”

Coco immediately spun, and Velvet waited for her to finally see what she’d been seeing this entire time. She waited, her breath holding in her chest as Coco’s attention darted around the hallway as if she wasn’t able to see the image of a dead student right in front of her.

“Pyrrha’s not here, Velvet,” Coco said as she turned back to her. “I don’t see her!”

Velvet grit her teeth in frustration. Why was it only her that could see these ghosts? Why was it only her who had to deal with this guilt and trauma while the rest of the world refused to believe anything she said?

Before she could say anything, though, she saw out of the corner of her eye Pyrrha begin to speak. It was hard to hear at first, but Velvet, through the burning and the anguish, refused to let her words go unheard again.

“Let me see.”

“Let me see,” Velvet echoed, and the words tasted sweet and salty and familiar on her tongue. “Let me see.”

Coco tilted her head and quirked an eyebrow at her. “See what?”

This time, Velvet wasted no time, bringing her hand up to Coco’s sunglasses and pulling them away. Coco flinched at first, shouting indignant comments as she pulled her head away, and then she stilled.

And then she screamed.

Pyrrha was only there for a fraction of a moment past that before her body quickly fell apart into small embers that drifted down the hallway. The heat that had overtaken Velvet released her immediately, and she fell forward, taking heavy gulps of air and reveling in a normal atmosphere again.

Still, the echo of Coco’s scream rang shrill in her ears, and when she looked up at her she could see her eyes had gone wide and her skin had gone pale. Velvet simply sat there, allowing Coco to collect herself again - it had been nearly fifteen years since Velvet had seen her first ghost, and she’d grown unfortunately used to them in the time since then.

Finally, Coco leaned back against the hallway wall, though her breaths still came in ragged, frightened gasps.

“Velvet,” she began airily, “what the fuck was that?!”

Velvet sighed. “That was Pyrrha.”

“No shit, that was Pyrrha!” Then, Coco blinked, finally processing what she’d said and what she’d seen. “Pyrrha died-”

“At Beacon, yes. Don’t try and tell me that she didn’t.” Velvet watched Coco parse her thoughts, occasionally darting her vision between Velvet and the spot where Pyrrha had just stood a moment ago.

A solemn frown tugged at her lips. “Velv, I should have believed you.”

“I told you I wasn’t crazy,” Velvet stated.

“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just...that’s very fucking hard to believe.” A quick beat passed before Coco looked back over at the spot again. “You’re sure that was her?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Sorry. And you’ve seen...other ghosts, too, then?”

Velvet nodded.

“And what do they want?”

“No idea,” Velvet lamented with a shrug. “I just reckoned they were here to make my life a living nightmare. I’ve been seeing ghosts since I was a child, but none have been this persistent.”

Coco let out a weighted sigh, slumping further against the wall. “You’ve seen ghosts before all of this?” When Velvet nodded again, Coco’s gaze became remarkably earnest. “You are a layered woman, Velvet Scarlatina. I should’ve seen it before.”

“I’m right here, Coco. I was always right here. You just had to look.”

“I know. I just didn’t really see you.” Her gaze fell for a moment to the floor. “I’m glad I see you now.”

Velvet’s heart settled, and though she didn’t know in that moment whether the kiss they’d shared just a few minutes ago had truly meant what it wanted her to, Coco’s words nestled deep in her heart and pulled a smile onto her lips. It was, at the very least, some of that admiration and respect she’d longed for.

The silence that followed was brief but calm, not unlike the moment that follows a nightmare. Their hearts still raced, their minds flashing with the haunting image of what they’d witnessed, but with the perception of danger gone and the comfort of each others’ presence, it was enough to settle them.

They were joined not too late by Yatsu and Fox, who’d claimed they’d heard Coco’s scream from downstairs and who’d gone to grab their weapons before rallying to their leader. They asked Coco and Velvet about what had happened, and although the words were hard to find initially, Coco had apparently decided that the time for secrets and mystery had passed, instead opting to tell them the whole story.

And when they treated her recounting with varying degrees of skepticism, Velvet stepped in to tell them all that she’d seen. All the ghosts she’d encountered since arriving at Shade, all the ghosts wandering the ruins of Beacon Academy, and all the ghosts who’d come before.

And she told them about how she saw a ghost for the first time when she was five years old.

Chapter Text

“Do you see any ghosts?” Fox asked Velvet.

“None. I haven’t seen any all day.”

“And that’s a bad thing…?”

Coco’s attention snapped to Yatsu and she rolled her eyes at him. “Yes. These ghosts clearly want something, but we can’t find out what that is if we don’t see them.”

“Hasn’t been a problem for me before,” Fox joked, earning another eye roll from Coco that was quickly replaced by giggles from Yatsu and Velvet.

Patrolling the city of Vacuo for ghosts wasn’t how Team CFVY had expected to be spending their night off, but they’d all made that decision once they understood the importance of the mission. There was of course still so much that they didn’t understand, and some stuff that each remained skeptical about, but nonetheless they were going to work together to find their answers, and nothing touched Velvet more.

Well, nothing but perhaps the fact that Coco had been the one to propose this plan in the first place.

Though Velvet hadn’t found much sleep that night, her waking hours were filled with daydreams and fantasies she’d once shamelessly indulged in but stayed silent about. If past Velvet could have seen her now, she would have been struck by immense disbelief and giddiness.

But, of course, those feelings were complicated, as all things had become in the past several months. Complicated of course by Coco’s sudden and jarring reaction, pulling away so quickly and accusing Velvet of having done something to her. Velvet wouldn’t deny that many of her thoughts had also been about that moment, and what exactly it was that Coco was accusing her of.

Whatever it was, Velvet didn’t want to do it again. She didn’t want to live a life where she didn’t get to kiss Coco again, and she didn’t want to live a life where Coco held any reservations about her.

Perhaps, then, today’s mission - as proposed and planned by Coco - was to make up for that, or that that incident was water under the bridge now. After all, Coco had been spooked enough by seeing Pyrrha, and finding out what these ghosts were doing and why they had followed Velvet to Vacuo had become their new primary goal.

Fox sauntered up to Velvet as they patrolled, wearing a characteristically brash smirk.

“So, you and Coco kissed, huh?” he said telepathically.

Velvet blinked and turned to face him. “Shush!”

“What? I didn’t say anything.” For emphasis, Fox winked at Velvet, which caused a hot, humiliated blush to creep into her cheeks.

“Well it’s complicated, so don’t say any more,” Velvet affirmed. “Besides, how do you know about that?”

Fox shrugged. “I don’t know. You told me not to say any more.”

Velvet groaned and turned away from him; she was at least partially glad that Fox had found his vigor again after so many months of vitriol and cynicism, though she wasn’t the least bit impressed that she had become the subject of his torment.

“Coco told me about last night,” Fox explained, much to Velvet’s mixed relief and apprehension. “She was very riled up, and not just because of the fact that she literally saw the ghost of one of our dead colleagues. You really must’ve done something to her.”

Velvet swallowed back a lump of shame and let her head hang. “Don’t have to tell me twice. That’s why she stopped kissing me. ‘Don’t do this to me’ is what she said.”

“Oof, sounds dramatic. Undeniably one of her worse qualities.”

“Well it wouldn’t be so bad if I knew what I did,” Velvet griped. “Did she say anything to you?”

“Just that you two kissed,” Fox said. “But I knew something was off since she didn’t wanna say much more about it. Usually she’s all details. It’s kind of weird.”

Velvet frowned thoughtfully, wondering what of the many things it could have been was the one which upset Coco the most and hoping that wondering about it wouldn’t drive her just as crazy as being the only one to see ghosts for the longest time.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Fox reaffirmed. “Coco’s swings are the worst, and she hasn’t exactly been doing well since...well…”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I don’t reckon any of us have.”

Fox didn’t have a witty retort for that comment, simply nodding and continuing the patrol of Vacuo’s streets beside Velvet in taut silence.

Though the environment felt immeasurably different to the gravesite Beacon had become, Velvet couldn’t shake the feeling of dread as she walked through the narrow streets of Vacuo, keeping vigilant for anything darting in her periphery or the sensations that normally accompanied a visit from her spectral ex-colleagues.

Velvet noticed the determination with which the rest of her team moved, too. She noticed Yatsu - whose body had regained its mass and whose skin had found its colour again - keeping up the vanguard, his hand hovering inches from his sword. She noticed Fox - whose earlier quips and gossip had been a refreshing return to form - keeping close to his friends, tilting his head whenever he heard anything out of the ordinary.

And she noticed Coco - whose mask was beginning to crack, whose words were slowly becoming trusting and discerning again, whose hands shook noticeably holding her weapon instead of having a white-knuckled grip - was just as anxious as Velvet. For once, she could see part of Coco again, and it was enough to rekindle some sense that they would be okay.

The sands of Vacuo, shifting and hot as they were, had treated them more kindly than perhaps they’d ever expected or even wanted. It wasn’t quite home yet, but Team CFVY couldn’t deny that something was bringing them closer to healing; healing, a process that was never easy nor linear, with painful confessions choked out between hysterical sobs, or relapses into awful, destructive habits and the denial of that which would settle the heart closer to where you wanted to be.

More often than not, healing hurt. It was hard and full of illusions of hopelessness as the phantoms of the past threatened regression while taunting failure.

But Velvet supposed nothing was easy, and as long as her and her team were healing - and they were - then all that pain could one day be worth it.

Of course, it did worry her that none of those phantoms had appeared yet since Pyrrha made herself known to Coco. A growing sense of suspicion built in her, raising the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck, wondering maybe if they had been watching all along, letting Team CFVY fumble around without direction in some sick, macabre punishment. She’d hoped these ghosts of once-noble people weren’t vengeful spirits, and dreaded what they could do if they were.

They turned a corner past a few shops that had closed up for the evening, Velvet immediately scanning the area for any familiar faces to pop up to no avail. The street was yawning and empty, and had Velvet not known better about the city she might have guessed it was abandoned.

She sighed in dismay; they’d been looking all night, and now she was beginning to wonder if she’d really been crazy all along, or if Pyrrha’s appearance last night had been the last she’d see of the ghosts. The idea should have relieved her, but instead it instilled in her an even heavier dread.

If this was it, and all of those hauntings had done nothing but exhaust and torment her, then it was all for nothing.

Velvet rubbed at the back of her head, kneading away a dull, burgeoning ache that began to quickly press against her like a solid and heavy object. Immediately, her eyes widened, and she recognized the oncoming tears in her otherwise dry eyes. She turned around immediately, drawing the attention of her teammates with her snappy movement.

“Yes,” she murmured, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yes! He’s here!”

“Velvet!” Coco called out, urgently pulling off her sunglasses. “Who’s here?”

Velvet stared intently at the ghost of Brawnz Ni in front of her, his image just as she’d seen it before several times as he cradled his head, pressing his hand against an endlessly bleeding wound.

Unlike before, though, Brawnz had begun to move, taking a cautious step backwards.

Velvet blinked away her sad tears and moved to follow him. “It’s Brawnz. I think he means for us to follow him!”

Coco raised her weapon and stepped beside Velvet. “I don’t see him.”

“Then we follow Velvet’s lead,” Fox suggested, to which Yatsu nodded as he drew his weapon.

Coco looked over at Velvet, her gaze apprehensive as it darted between her and where Brawnz was, before she finally nodded. “Lead the way, Velv.”

Velvet nodded and followed as Brawnz moved back through the winding streets of the city, hand still on his head, blood still plastering his hair to his brow, eyes never daring to trail from Velvet and her team. Her tears still shed and her chest was still full of a heavy grief, but she followed him nonetheless, and her team followed her.

She followed him through the city.

She followed him past dark buildings and closed doors.

She followed him to where the city wall ended and, much to the reluctant agreement of her team, followed him past that. She knew not where she was being led, but knew that he was leading her somewhere, and that somewhere must have been beyond important.

The sand dunes of Vacuo were dyed blue under the night’s dark tapestry, with shreds of familiar argent moonlight guiding them through otherwise staggering darkness. Seeing Brawnz became more of a challenge at night even with her ability to see in the dark, but she could still sense his sadness, his desperation, and so she continued to follow it, her cheeks wet with tears that should have run dry long ago.

“Velvet!” Fox called out. “ADA says there’s something ahead. Or, I guess, several somethings.”

“Team CFVY, keep your weapons ready!” Coco barked.

Velvet quickly grabbed her camera to choose a weapon to use; Pyrrha’s photo was the first to come up, her weapons on display as she took a fighting stance against Team CRDL. She wasn’t sure how many of these pictures she had left, and her finger hovered over the selection button for a moment as she wondered if she should spend the time selecting a different weapon among the many photos she’d taken or if she should risk losing this memory.

Then came a familiar growl, one that no matter what signaled death and destruction, and Velvet’s choice was made: bands of light circled around her wrist, forming a shield, while the hilt of a familiar javelin wove into being in the palm of her hand, both emitting a faint blue glow that allowed Velvet to see the swarm of Grimm just ahead.

Brawnz was gone, replaced by a swarm of monsters that were circling something, tearing viciously at that something with unsuccessful hits that grew more confident with each swing. Velvet rushed forward to engage with Yatsu and Fox while Coco stayed behind, firing off several roaring shots from her weapon.

“There’s someone there!” shouted Yatsu as his blade connected with one of the Grimm, quickly and efficiently decapitating it.

“Then we have to help them!” Coco called up.

“Who is it?” Fox asked as he drew closer into the swarm, slicing at the Grimm.

Velvet ducked under one of the monsters’ strikes, taking the opportunity to look over at the young, emaciated man curled into the sand, holding what seemed to be a baton of sorts in his hand in a last-ditch attempt to fend off the Grimm.

The first time Nolan Porfirio saw a ghost was when he was 18 years old.

It was a night he’d never forget for a number of reasons.

Reason number one: one of Beacon’s own students had murdered another in a match in the Vytal festival, only for it to turn out that that student had secretly been a robot the entire time.

Reason number two: someone had sent an army of Grimm to attack Beacon and Vale while General Ironwood’s army of Atlesian bots turned their weapons on innocent civilians and unprepared students.

Reason number three: in the span of ten minutes, his entire team had perished to the Grimm and he ran from the battle.

He’d long since expelled the details of their deaths from his memory, refusing to even allow himself to think of the moments they’d been shorn from his life. It had all happened so fast, anyway, he doubted he could remember even if he wanted to.

But Brawnz Ni was dead. Roy Stallion was dead. May Zedong was dead. Their names weren’t the only ones that appeared on the list of students MIA (but they weren’t MIA, and he knew that, and he supposed Beacon’s interim headmistress knew that, too), but they were the only ones he cared about.

Accepting their deaths was easy. It was also the most difficult thing he’d ever done in his life, and it was made no less difficult by the way he kept seeing his teammates throughout the next several weeks, caught like still images in the moment of their passing.

Nolan refused to look at first - he wouldn’t let his mind play these tricks on him. He’d shut his eyes and hold them shut for as long as he felt it would take to send those images away; sometimes it even worked. When it didn’t, he would pull May’s old hat over his face and sit down back at the makeshift camp many of the other students had taken residence in. Most had stayed behind to help Beacon’s staff and students clean up the mess left behind by the assault, but not Nolan. Not when it was only him, his skin bearing no wounds while his teammates’ corpses lay under white sheets stained red.

During the day, their faces would appear to him, twisted in pain and caked with dried blood.

During the night, their faces would appear to him, twisted in pain and caked with dried blood.

Nolan wished he could stop crying so much when he saw them.

After a few weeks, their appearances became more scattered and sparse, only appearing each maybe once a day before vanishing moments later, but he would always remember pain in his head and in his chest and in his throat, and he would always remember tears being shed even long after they’d vanished.

After a month, the headmistress had suggested he return to Vacuo. Nolan knew that if he were to return to Shade Academy without his team, the torment from the other students would be endless, and yet he knew staying here would only invite more grief and misery. Caught between these haunting memories that persisted endlessly and the threat of being ostracized for something he’d had no control over, Nolan spent another few months in Vale.

His teammates’ faces never left him.

He tried to avoid them again, but between the pain and overwhelming sadness that engulfed his days, he figured perhaps this would be something he would be stuck with forever.

He’d thrown his weapon once at May, catching her in the corner of the room he’d been allowed to stay in for now, and his weapon had gone right through her. The impact, however, he felt, as though the pommel of his baton had struck him in the chest instead of the wall, and he reeled back against his bed, catching his breath as he clutched his chest.

May kept watching him, her eyes desperate as she held her hands against a wound across her stomach. Just as she always looked.

He left the room promptly, returning with the headmistress to confirm what he’d just seen, but May was gone by the time they’d returned. The headmistress had offered him her condolences, offered him the chance to return home again, and Nolan figured running away had saved his life once before, and it could probably do it again.

Nolan packed that night and left for Vacuo the next morning.

It was a journey he’d take on foot, and it was a journey where he’d be accompanied by these ghosts. No matter what he said or did, they came with him. At night, by his campfire, they came with him.

After some time, he started to talk to them as if they’d truly been his old teammates. They never responded, and they always vanished halfway through the conversation, but he’d begun to feel at ease around them - or as much as he could, given their mysterious nature and haunting, overpoweringly mournful presence.

Eventually, he would set foot upon sand, a signifier that he was close to home, and that maybe all of that which he was running from would finally end. The heat, though overbearing, was familiar, and he welcomed it on his cold, pallored skin. His journey, and the time spent in grieving before, had left him weak and tired, had left his stomach empty and his mouth dry. He’d thought many times of going to sleep at his campsite and choosing not to wake up, instead allowing himself to be swallowed by the desert to become just another figment himself to those that may have loved him.

The ghosts never allowed that, and he always awoke to tears streaming down his cheeks.

And yet, so close to home, he finally felt his bereavement lift, if only somewhat, and his steps became lighter as he marched on through the desert to where, maybe, there was hope yet again for him.

‘I’m home,’ he thought, and stopped in wonder at the thought. ‘I’m home. I’m home.’

Now he only had to climb.

His climb began as it had when he first stepped foot out of Vale: accompanied by the ghosts of his friends. His climb continued where his limbs would feel leaden and eventually fold under his own weight, leaving him to crawl in the scorching sands towards home. His lips cracked from the lack of moisture, and his eyes stung with sand and tears, but he was never alone, and he figured that if he were to die here, then he would die at home, and he would die with his friends.

Perhaps home wasn’t the city waiting for him, but a second chance to join Team BRNZ.

And the tears filled his eyes and streamed hot down his cheeks, reminding him that this desert would not be his final resting place. Leaden limbs or not, scorching sands or not, he would make it home. He would drag himself through the harsh beams of sunlight searing him alive under the vast blue sky, and he would drag himself through the chill of night as the dunes became blanketed by a dark, solemn blue dotted with specks of argent moonlight.

He would make it home.

Home.

And he stopped in wonder at the thought.

Home.

His fingers uncurled, dropping a handful of sand in front of him; the subsequent cloud left him blind in that moment to the dark shapes moving over the horizon, their crimson eyes trained on him hungrily. Nolan reacted with a reserve of strength and will he’d thought lost for so long, reaching for his weapon and climbing to his knees.

The first Grimm struck ferociously, but he was a Huntsman and his strike was just as ferocious. He knocked it back and braced himself against the second strike from the second Grimm, activating his aura just in time to deflect the brunt of the attack.

He fought against them, now more desperate for survival than he had been ever before, but looking over the swarm he could see his team - his friends - walking back into the darkness of the night, vanishing.

The last time Nolan Porfirio saw a ghost was when he was 18 years old, and they were the last things he saw before his world went dark.

“Come on, wake up!” Velvet shouted at the young man she had immediately recognized as Nolan Porfirio curled into the sand, clasping his shoulders with white-knuckled desperation. “Wake up!”

Around them, pillars of black smoke rose into the night sky from the Grimm they’d slain. Yatsu and Coco kept watch over the horizon as Fox and Velvet tended to Nolan, whose body seemed in far worse shape and far more sickly than it should have been.

Despite this, Velvet was adamant that he would be okay. As Fox lifted him off the ground and brushed him off, Velvet kept a tight grip on his shoulders, shaking him and calling out for him.

Around them stood the ghosts of Pyrrha and Team BRNZ, though Velvet hardly paid them any mind. After all, here was their last surviving teammate, gaunt and wounded and exhausted and on the verge of passing had it not already happened. Velvet had seen ghosts, she’d been haunted by them since she was a child, but now she had someone to look after, someone whose life she could save in time.

“Does he have a pulse?” Yatsu called back over his shoulder.

Fox placed two fingers to his wrist; his expression fell. “Hardly. He's in real bad shape, though. I don't think he's going to make it.”

Velvet’s eyes widened. There was no way she was allowing someone else to be taken away, and yet she continued to call out his name, desperately inviting him back into the world, to no avail. She screamed it with everything she had in her, everything that she’d kept suppressed for so long. No more, she decided. No more deaths.

And yet her calls went unanswered.

Fox placed a hand on Velvet’s shoulder, and his face already held so much grief. “Velvet.”

“No! We can still save him!” she snapped before looking up at the ghosts surrounding him. “We can save him, right? That’s why you brought us here, isn’t it?”

The ghosts didn’t say anything, didn’t nod nor blink nor shrug, but stepped forward and stopped above them.

“We can save him. Please let us save him!” Velvet begged.

The ghosts remained still yet again, and the tears began to sting the corners of Velvet’s eyes didn’t come from them.

“Please!”

And finally her desperation was answered.

Not by Nolan, but by the ghosts, whose mouths opened as if to speak yet again, and they spoke in unison:

“Home.”

“Home,” Velvet repeated, contemplating the word before turning her attention back to Nolan. “Home. Home. Nolan, you’re home. We’re going to take you home.”

Her plea was thick with tears, but she spoke those words nonetheless as the rest of her team watched with bated breath. She knew this was his home, and she knew it had become home for her team. She would take him home one way or another, but she hoped with everything that she had that he could be awake to see home again.

“Home,” she echoed, and soon was joined by her team, interjecting the word between Velvet’s desperate pleas. Home was what they had become, and had always been, and would always be, no matter whether it was the ruins of their school or the shifting sands of Vacuo.

This was home, and Nolan deserved to come home, too.

“Home,” Velvet begged, and Fox’s eyes went wide.

“His pulse is getting stronger!” he exclaimed.

Velvet’s heart began to hammer in her chest, driving her to hold him tighter and continue to draw him back to reality. She watched as he began to stir, his chapped lips parting as his eyes fluttered faintly and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

“That’s it, come on! You’re home, Nolan! You’re home!” Velvet urged, not even bothering to fight back the smile pulling across her face. “You’re home. You’re home.”

“Home,” Nolan repeated, his voice raspy and low.

He fell back against the sand, his breaths laboured by sound, his eyes tired but moving between the people that surrounded him and moved to help him up. Velvet kept her hand on his back as Yatsu got him to his feet before lifting him into his arms as they set out back to the city.

Velvet wiped a final tear from the corner of her eye and looked over her shoulder gratefully at the ghosts that had brought them here, but stopped in astonishment when her eyes fell upon an empty desert.

She scanned the blue-dyed dunes for them, wondering maybe if they were hiding or if they had truly vanished, before being jolted back to reality by Coco calling her name and beckoning her to join them. With one final look over the horizon, Velvet nodded and hopped over to join her team.

The last time Velvet saw a ghost was when she was 20 years old, and though she’d wished they would make themselves known at least once more, she took solace in their absence, in their peace, and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

Velvet found herself standing at Coco’s door for a little bit over five minutes before finally building the courage to knock.

Her chest fluttered with butterflies as she steadied herself for the conversation that she felt needed to be had. Once they’d gotten Nolan back to Shade and taken him to the infirmary, Coco had bid her team goodnight and headed back up to her room, but only Velvet had noticed the small sob she’d stifled poorly. She hadn’t gotten the chance to ask her about it, or to ask her about the night before, before Coco had marched up to her room and closed the door.

After everything that had happened tonight, Velvet figured she’d need a moment to herself anyways before pursuing this conversation.

Paranoia had long crept into her bones, and in the silence of waiting for Coco to answer the door she checked over her shoulder to see-

Nothing.

As would be normal. As would be her new normal, she reckoned, at least for now.

She turned her attention back to Coco’s door just in time for Coco to answer, her eyes once again shielded by her dark sunglasses.

‘Velvet,” Coco stated flatly, as if she’d been expecting her on the other side of her door. “You’re up late. I’d have figured you’d wanna rest after everything tonight.”

“I did,” Velvet began, “but I think I want to talk to you more.”

Coco leaned forward, pursing her lips in thought. “Did you see another ghost?”

“No.” Velvet looked back over her shoulder to affirm the statement to herself, inviting Coco to take a look as well. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing any for a long time.”

“That’s a relief,” Coco said with a sigh. “What a night.”

“More like what a past few months, yeah?”

Coco’s chuckle was dry and short, and Velvet could tell that it had struck some kind of nerve with her. How long Coco had been hiding her hurt about everything that had happened, Velvet knew very well, and still it pained her to see it nonetheless - or, rather, not see it.

Despite the ghosts being gone, there was still so much that haunted them from the Fall of Beacon, still so much that kept them awake at night and ostracized them from those who didn’t have such traumas to deal with.

Velvet steadied herself one more against the rush of anxious thoughts coming to take away any confidence she’d built up before. They still had to talk.

“Coco,” Velvet started, her voice as small as she was used to, “I don’t know what I did last night to upset you, but I’m sorry that I did.”

“It’s cool, Velv. Don’t worry about it.”

Velvet could tell that it was the opposite of cool, and pushed against the idea. “But I don’t know what I did, and if I do it again it might upset you again.” When Coco’s expression remained stiff, Velvet’s eyes dipped downwards. “Coco, can you just let me in, please?”

“What for?”

“Because we need to talk, and I think you’d rather talk in private than out there,” Velvet said firmly.

“I don’t want to talk,” Coco refuted, but her door stayed open.

Velvet shook her head. “I think you do. It’s you and me, Coco, remember? It’s us.”

Coco’s expression fell, seeming to consider Velvet’s words as her fingers loosened from the doorknob. The silence between them was tense, pulling either direction as Velvet stood against her stubbornness with kindness and compassion of her own, daring to challenge the walls Coco had built up for herself.

Finally, Coco sighed and stepped aside to let Velvet in.

She closed the door behind them, leaning against it coolly as Velvet stood in the center of her room, watching her intently. “What do we need to talk about?”

“We kissed last night, Coco.”

“Yeah, we did.”

A concerned frown pulled across Velvet’s face. “And then you stopped me. Why? What did I do wrong?”

Coco remained silent, watching Velvet with an intensity she could barely see but could absolutely feel. She shifted in place, pulling her arms around her midsection nervously. She wasn’t going to back down, but for so long all she’d sought was Coco’s admiration, affection, approval...it was challenging to risk all of that for Coco’s own peace of mind, but a challenge she felt was more than worth it. She’d step out of line a thousand times if it meant helping Coco.

A sigh escaped Coco’s lips. “I was scared.”

Velvet blinked in surprise at the confession. “What were you scared of?”

Coco leaned further against the wall, making herself uncharacteristically smaller than her larger-than-life image. “When Beacon fell, we weren’t the only ones affected. I remember that night, I remember how terrified everyone was. I remember the bodies that piled in the streets and lined the emergency tents. I remember the people separated from their teams, and the people nursing wounds that would never heal, and the people mourning friends they’d lost. And I thought that I was so lucky to have survived. I was so lucky that you all survived.

“I didn’t want to grieve what I didn’t lose. I’d leave that to you and Fox and Yatsu, and I’d be the leader I wanted to be. There was so much still to do, and I didn’t want to let any of that get in my way. So I kept going. I kept fighting. I kept leading you guys, because leading and fighting was better than stagnating and sitting with my own worry.”

Velvet’s heart sank, and she clasped her hands over her chest. She knew Coco had been hurting, but she hadn’t known just how much, and it ached to think Coco hadn’t allowed herself to feel that grief and pain.

“But it did hurt, Velv. It hurt so much to not say anything about it, and I carried that hurt with me and locked it away where it couldn’t pull me down.” Coco pulled herself away from the wall and moved over to her bed, falling onto the mattress. “And so there I was. Coco Adel, Team CFVY’s fearless leader, only I wasn’t fearless. It felt like I’d locked myself away, too, in that place where I put my fear. It was constricting, and it was dark and colourless, and I hated myself for putting myself there with no way out."

Coco looked up at Velvet, and she could see tears glistening in her dark eyes just over the ridge of her shades. “And then you pulled me out of there, Velv. You, with your hope and your honesty and everything, pulled me out of there, back to where there was light and colour and room to breathe and stretch and it was all so overwhelming because I’d only known that dark, constricted place for so long and I-”

“Coco,” Velvet said, inviting her back to reality as she sat down on the bed beside her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Coco looked at her with disbelief, her body wracked with shaky breaths on the verge of hysteria. Velvet could see the cracks in the stone widening, breaking, making way for all that hurt to pour free, and she skated her thumb along her shoulder soothingly as Coco melted into her soft touch.

“How did you do it, Velv?” Coco implored. “How did you deal with all that pain?”

Velvet stilled for a moment, stopped in wonder at the question, though her thumb continued its circuit along Coco’s shoulder. “I didn’t, really. I’d thought it was hopeless, too. Thought I’d be haunted by what I’d seen forever.” Then, in a smaller voice, she added, “I don’t think I’ll ever be free of that, really.”

Coco let out a small but warm chuckle. “We all saw some fucked-up shit at Beacon.”

“We did,” Velvet agreed. “You’re right. We did. And I didn’t think there’d ever be anything to take that away. But I trusted you, Coco, like I always did, and when I kissed you, that was the most peace I’d felt in such a long time.”

Coco nodded solemnly. “Me too. I was just scared, Velv. I was scared of being alive again, and I was scared you’d see that.”

Velvet understood that fear, perhaps more than Coco understood, but she feared any lifetime where Coco wasn’t alive more than anything else. Even here, after everything, this was the life she’d always choose. Even with all the pain they’d endured, this life was theirs. It was hers.

And it felt so good to be alive.

Velvet reached up to touch Coco’s sunglasses, skating her fingertips against the cool metal, coaxing Coco to remove them with gentle motions. This time, Coco hardly hesitated as she pulled them off from in front of her eyes, placing them on her bedside table, and this time she showed Velvet everything. All of her pain, all of her fear, and though it pulled a sigh of dismay from Velvet’s mouth, she knew that this was progress.

“Are you scared now?” Velvet asked her gently.

“Yes,” Coco said with a nod.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Coco murmured as she leaned closer to Velvet, close enough for their noses to brush together, close enough for Velvet to feel the light huffs of Coco’s shaky breaths on her own lips. “I think I’d rather be scared right now.”

Their kiss was timid but welcoming. Sad but comforting. In that comfort, Coco revealed everything that words could not with her lips and her touch, and Velvet took it all in as she let Coco confide it all in her. Even salt tasted sweet pressed between their lips, and when all had been confessed and confided under longing touches and gentle moans, they stayed in each others’ embrace through the night.

And for the first time in months, Velvet found her dreams calm and her sleep restful.