Chapter 13

A week later, the scars on her stump were still vibrant. They were jagged, sewn lines in a neat star-like shape at the point, swollen and red. During the lonely moments, Yang isn't quite sure how to cope. She catches herself staring down at where her arm should be, sometimes even plays with the stitching sewing the flaps of her stump together. Most of the time, her wound is dressed with a thin elastic band type of thing, but it itches. A lot.

As Yang peels away the dressing for the third time that day, she lets out a huff of air as she positions her stump over a bowl sitting on her nightstand. It was a mixture of saline and hydrogen peroxide that Weiss prepared for her, and she was supposed to use cotton swabs to clean the wound. She leans close to it, frowning in concentration as she dips one of the balls into the liquid. Her tongue peeks out between her teeth as she initially dabs at her injury, wincing a little as her left hand clumsily attempts the circular motions Weiss's private nurses showed her.

One good poke at a suture elicits a loud, 'Fuck!' from her lips, and she throws the cotton ball to the side.

To hell with this, Yang thinks, and dunks the whole stump in the mixture. She spasms her shoulder so her stump splashes around, sending liquid all over the nightstand. When she notices crimson and gunk in the liquid, she sits away, satisfied.

"You, uh, you'll really do anything you can to avoid asking for help, won't you?"

Yang glances up at the door frame to see Jaune, arms crossed over his chest as he leans casually against the door frame. His dark blue eyes trail over her analytically. There's a thoughtful look in his eyes, like there normally is, and she's thankful that he's at least not looking at her as if she's something to be pitied.

"That's not it," she replies, going about wrapping her stump. "I just didn't realize anyone was here. How are you doing with the move?"

Jaune's eyes are on her. "It's fine. We all knew this would happen sooner or later. Ren and Nora are safely over the border. Pyrrha and I stayed because…well."

"Weiss showed you Ruby's plans for getting everyone out?" Yang questions as she wrinkles her nose when her wrapping falls apart just as she's about to tie it, and goes about re-doing it.

"There's that," he admits. He dips his head. "I…also just can't leave, you know? Not while you and Weiss are stuck, not while everyone else is stuck."

"Why not?" Yang tries to use her teeth to pull the bandages tightly over her stump, but something slips and it unravels at the bottom, scraping painfully against her sutures. With a sigh, she unwraps it.

"Ruby was a close friend," Jaune tells her. He pushes himself off the door frame and steps up to her side. Indignant, Yang glares at him when he reaches for the bandages. The man simply gives her a hard look, and says, "There's no shame in needing help once in a while. You've helped me a lot, especially this past year. Let me help you now."

With a heavy sigh, she stretches her stump out towards him to make it easier and gives him the bandages. He kneels in front of her, copying the way that she had been trying to wrap the appendage. As he does, the pain from the swelling relieves as he tightens it properly. Dropping her forehead into her fingers, she tries to massage the furrow from her brow. They don't speak as he works, and in a couple of seconds, he's done.

"Thanks."

Sitting back, he looks up at Yang curiously. "I gotta know something."

Yang hums in acknowledgment. She abandons the bed, moving towards the window. Leaning against the window frame, she gazes out at the gray skies and the fallen leaves on the ground. Jaune stands by the bed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Why did you join up with us?"

The question startles her, and she turns to him. Eyebrows rising, she answers, "Because it was the right thing to do. Why do you ask?"

"It's not that simple," he insists, his eyes meeting hers. "You were happy to hide it for us, you didn't really mind one way or another what happened. The extent of your interest was to protect Ruby. You never carried signs, you never went out of your way…"

Listening intently, Yang leans against the window. It's cool against her back and shoulders, so she slides down against the window sill, enjoying the chill.

Letting out a sigh, he blurts, "It just seemed like you didn't really care what happened to the faunus or to the country. You were…busy."

"You can say it, Jaune. I was partying. Living a hedonist life."

Jaune runs his fingers through his shaggy hair, looking grateful for the woman's understanding. He relaxes after that, murmuring, "Yeah. Sorry. I just didn't want to come across like a jerk, you know? You've done a lot."

"Sure."

"So?"

Yang curls her arm around her chest, looking away thoughtfully. She has an answer, but she doesn't want to say the words in the wrong way. It was true, Yang hadn't been very concerned with the lives of the faunus or with the rights of people who weren't like her. Before then, she'd even gone as far as to believe that, because she was in a place of privilege, she had no right to speak for them. It was a question she still wasn't quite sure about the answer for. Did someone who had no clue, who didn't have to experience the same things, have any business in fighting for that cause? Did that really matter? Did her words, her actions, have any merit at all?

Yang draws in a breath, casting her gaze out the window once more as she begins, "Summer Rose, my mom, she was human. My dad was human. That meant that I lived a life of privilege. In my life, I've never experienced racism or classism, because I was born with just the right types of appendages. When you first met me, I thought that this meant I couldn't have a say. That because I didn't know what it was like, I didn't have any right to speak out against the status quo.

"My mom wasn't like that, though. She tried to teach me that it was my responsibility as someone with a voice to speak out against injustice, but I was also taught at school and whatnot, that I had no place fighting for someone who was different from me. I guess, to an extent, I do still believe that everything I do and say will be more irrelevant than the actions of a faunus because I'm a human. Ruby never let that get to her. She joined up with the Grey Fang when she was still in high school, and I only found out when I graduated. She started attending the protests, started carrying the signs – part of the cavalry. Eventually, even a leader.

"I had to protect her, but I didn't want to kid myself into believing that anything I could do could possibly matter. Even after she and my father died… the reason for my involvement was less about the faunus and more about fighting their bill of censorship. Books, stories, those mattered to me and that was something I could speak out for. And then I met Blake."

Jaune's eyes soften at that. He nods.

"I never thought I'd fall in love with a faunus," Yang admits, smiling to herself. The thought of Blake made her heart ache in yearning and sadness, but shining through all of that was an emotion so pure and powerful, it cleaned her soul of any bitterness she could possibly feel. It was like an energy, rushing inside of her. "It was short, but… Blake changed me. I got to see what it meant to be of faunus descent, and I got to see what it meant for a faunus to stand on their own in this country. She was strong, but without allies, without a voice, she'd get caught up in this world. Blake made me realize what my mom was trying to tell me, all those years ago."

"What's that?" he asks, attentive.

"Even if our experiences are different, doing the right thing has its own merit," the woman says, pushing herself from the wall. She approaches Jaune and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I don't need to have experienced the faunus life to do the right thing. I owe them that because of what my species' privilege has meant for them."

Jaune nods, and smiles at her. "I thought I'd have to pull teeth for a good answer."

"Just bandages. I might ask you to tighten them later," Yang half-jokes. She moves passed him to the door. "Come on, there's gotta be something interesting happening downstairs."

"Weiss is here, too, by the way," he tells her as they go down the hall. "She told me not to wake you up if you were resting."

"She worries too much."

"You haven't given her much of a reason not to," he points out.

"I'm fine."

"You lost an arm."

Yang rolls her eyes. "A lot of people have lost a lot more than that. I still have the other one, don't I?"

"That's…definitely an optimistic way to look at it."

When they get downstairs, Pyrrha and Weiss are chatting in the kitchen. The red-haired woman had Weiss smiling and laughing quietly, which was a welcome sight for Yang. The Senator as of late had only looked incredibly worried and stressed. When she and Jaune join them, they talk for a good hour just in the kitchen, like old friends do.

The days pass slowly. Weiss's cabin was far removed from the rest of civilization in the country and would provide a safe haven for them for nearly as long as they needed. But Yang knew it wasn't forever. She had to build herself up again.

In the mornings, she walks out to the back of the house to chop wood. Her left arm is powerful enough to do the job, and slowly gets used to the extra work.

After another week or so, she ditches the bandages entirely, and her sutures come out. The stump is still scarred and ugly, but at least it wasn't anywhere near as itchy. At some point, she realizes she can wiggle the flesh at the tip of the stump by flexing her deltoid, which has led to more entertainment than she's proud of.

Late at night, she keeps herself up with thoughts of Blake. She worries about her and almost constantly asks Weiss or Jaune if they've managed to confirm her safety. She's been met with not much success, and the stress of that doubles every night. She's contemplated sending a message over the phone, but quickly puts down any of those ideas. A message like that could put her in serious danger. Additionally, Blake wasn't an idiot. She would've thrown away her phone, erased every trace of her as she could.

I hope.

Yang swallows, glancing down at her feet. She thrusts the hatchet's tip into the wood and plops down on the tree stump, her mind grinding over the safety of the faunus once more.

"Damn it," she growls, angry at her inability to do anything. Jaune had said she had seemed optimistic, but really she hates every second she has to spend not fighting and protecting people. Absent-mindedly, she rubs at her stump.

She's not sure how long she's there dwelling on her negativity when a car pulls up to the side of the building. Her hand goes to the axe defensively until she sees inside the car, and Professor Glynda Goodwitch is pulling up along with Senator Branwen in her passenger seat.

Yang's eyebrows rise and she stands up, striding towards them.

Senator Branwen's connection to the Grey Fang was typical. He was a close family friend, and the blood-related brother to Yang's actual mother – which, she supposes, makes him her uncle. Recently, he has had to keep his involvement with the faunus and faunuskind on the low, or he'd risk exposure to their whole organization. Glynda got involved through him, a more recent member of the Grey Fang, but a long outspoken activist.

"Good afternoon," the blonde calls, watching as the two get out of the vehicle. "Glad to see you both in one piece. Heading east?"

Glynda shakes her head. "No. Not just yet."

Yang frowns. Why were people so slow to get out of the country? Why stay?

Qrow brushes his bangs back, away from his face. His gray hair sticks up on end, lending a sort of serious demeanor to his presence. Maroon eyes narrow as their eyes meet. Instantly, Yang realizes how serious he needs her to be. She furrows her brow.

"What's going on, Qrow?"

"They're starting to barrel bomb blocks at a time," he tells her, his hand resting on his hip. "Any district that has any rumors of Grey Fang activity is being destroyed."