Work Text:
“Don’t leave, please.” tears are pouring out at a scary rate, hands trembling but pushing against gushing wounds, trying to keep her from bleeding out. But there’s too much. She took too much damage she thinks and now she’s here, bleeding out.
Dying.
Life, pouring out.
In her arms.
The thought almost sobers her up, but the tears are still there. They make everything blurry, they fog out her surroundings, but the surroundings don’t have her attention. The girl in her arms does.
There’s a battle raging behind them, or was it already over? Their teammates’ battle cries echo through the caverns around them, or were just echoes of the battle that was over minutes ago, hours ago, days ago. Forever could have passed and all that matters is that she is breathing still, that lilac eyes still fight to stay focused on golden ones.
But Blake knows those eyes, knows them better than her own when she meets it in the mirror. Despite the tears and blurriness in her eyes, as soon as she sees her, it all clears, everything about her is sharper, and when golden eyes meet lilac, she knows that she’s losing, barely grasping at life.
She’s never broken her promise. She thinks, Ask her to promise. Ask her to stay. And for a moment she thinks of opening her mouth to say it, but the word catches in her throat. The words form but are never spoken, because how can she ask her to do that. How can she break her heart when she’s dying, how can she allow her last thoughts to be of failing her and failing to keep a promise?
They’ve broken that promise so many times, only to come back together. Was it unfair for Blake to hope for that again? To hope that this situation could be salvaged and that they can come back together for the -th time? It’s too much to ask for, Blake muses.
So instead she says this.
“I want you to stay with me.” And that’s the truth.
She’s imagined a life where they stay, where they win, and then they live. A small house or an apartment. A house filled with children or with pets. A small peaceful life in Patch, or maybe in Menagerie, or an action filled life in the city where they continue to change and save lives, where Yang teaches, builds, supports and Blake fights for the faunus, fights against grimm, waits for her love to come home... She’s imagined a million different aspects in her life after- no she’s seen it, seen every road they would take, but after only exists if she is there. The first thing she sees everytime she sees what’s ahead is alway her. So there will never be an after, will there?
So instead she continues
“But I know it hurts, so” an unwanted sob breaks through her. “You can let go. You can leave the rest to us.” She’s spoken against crowds, against authoritative figures, against her false-love and abuser, but these words have been the hardest thing she’s ever said. She runs away, always a coward, never facing things head on. That’s what he always said, but she called her brave, and for those lilac eyes, golden hair, heart of gold, she will be brave. Brave enough to let her go, brave enough to be selfless when all she wants in the world is to be selfish, to hide her away, to keep her alive. But she has to be brave.
So instead she ends it with this.
“I love you.” And it’s the truth. If she knows only one thing, it’s that. It’s the easiest thing she’s ever said. The words flow out of her over and over “I love you Yang Xiao Long” and she prays to the Brothers, to whoever is above them, to bless her in her next life. She won’t blame them, not when she’s done it for all the times she’s almost lost her.
Instead she begs.
Let me have her in our lives after this. She prays in the few seconds where the girl in her arms seems to process all the words she’s said. She’s so beautiful and bright and alive, please let us find each other in all our lives after this. There’s no blood gushing out of her mouth like how her books portray these scenes, and from her position high up, she can almost ignore the wounds on her chest and her own blood soaked hands. I’ve lost her so many times, it has to be enough for a million lifetimes.
For a moment she imagines they’re somewhere else. A beach in Menagerie, a hill in Patch, in one of the gardens of beacon, the sweltering paths of Vacuo, hell even back in Atlas. In her imagination, she’s only falling asleep on her lap. In her mind, they’re 17, enjoying each other’s company. They’re 24, young, alive and full of bliss, their whole life ahead of them, waiting. They’re 60, old and brittle, but happy, content and lounging around for the rest of their days.
But then she’s brought back by a metal hand on her forearm. The arm tightens ever so slightly, even in her weak state. But no matter, Blake knows what to do. She leans down to nudge their foreheads together. She thought the action would bring her to tears, make her sob or weep. But like it’s always done, it brings her comfort.
With their faces so close together, Blake can feel every breath Yang makes.
Then she felt it slow. She opens her eyes in time, and once more their eyes meet. Pulled back, Blake watches Yang.
“I love you, Blake,” Yang whispers and it sounds like the end. It’s a goodbye and an apology. “I’m sorry I waited too long to tell you.” Yang mumbles something else, but even with Blake’s hearing, she can’t make out the words.
“Don’t apologize, I always knew.” Yang’s eyes light up in amusement as if asking was she that obvious. “You always made sure I knew, Yang, you never had to say it.” Blake feels rather than hears Yang’s hum of affirmation. Yang’s hand remains on hers, still holding on tight despite her waning strength.
When Yang breathes her last, Blake feels it. Feels the release of a breath held and the release of the pain that she had been feeling. Blake refuses to part from her, to pull back. She longs to feel the warmth and comfort through their pressed foreheads. But she’s no fool, she knows what isn’t coming and what isn’t coming back.
Pulling away is somehow more painful than being beside her. In fact, every movement after is painful. There’s no wounds or bruises on her body, but she feels sluggish and tired.
There’s no use, the thought forms in the back of her mind. She’s gone, what’s the point? Salem’s taken her. She grunts, keeping the thoughts back as she reaches for Gambol Shroud, which she had dropped when she rushed to Yang’s side. They might as well have won.
Blake grits her teeth as she rushes back into battle alongside her teammates and their friends.
Ruby acknowledges her briefly, tears forming in her eyes. After seeing the grim look on her face, Ruby’s face hardens and her attacks somehow come down stronger on their opponents. Blake would’ve been grateful had the cause not been what it was.
Weiss, ever receptive to her partner and her teammates, turns her head toward Blake, chokes back a small sob, and her summons falter for a moment before resuming the fight.
I have to protect them, Blake thinks. No.We have to protect each other. For Yang.
We have to win this fight, if anything, to keep Yang alive. Everyone needs to know who our heart was.
