Blake had known she was going to have to do something the moment she had laid eyes upon him. He had all but stumbled into the bullhead, the last of his team to do so as usual. Ren had all but collapsed against the wall, his head cradled in his hands long before he had sunk to the floor. Nora was little better, lowering herself and reaching out as if she wanted to comfort him, but was not sure how to do so. Jaune, though. Jaune had walked with as much purpose and determination as he always walked. He lowered himself quietly and surely to the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his arms on them as he did. A firm, stalwart leader for all the world to see. Were that it not that Blake knew him so well.

She had seen the faraway expression in his eyes before, the last time he had lost someone. Blake hadn't needed Yang to ask after Oscar and the Relic. She had known they were gone the moment she had seen Jaune.

She had been preoccupied, of course, unable to offer him any comfort save a sincere smile that she wasn't even sure he had seen. They were now Public Enemies 1-9, aboard a stolen Atlas Bullhead in the airspace of the greatest military power on Remnant. Not even an hour earlier, they had earned the General's personal ire with their 'betrayal', and everything they had done in the time since then had only served to make him angrier.

Maria had proven how good a pilot she could be under stress as the Bullhead dodged and weaved through anti-aircraft fire, rapidly spinning its way through the Atlas skyline in an attempt to lose the tail they'd acquired a few miles from the Academy. Yang and Blake had braced themselves against the Bullhead door, more than prepared to leap out if the need arose and take the fight to their enemy. Penny had anchored herself, tightening her grip around both Weiss and Ruby's shoulder to prevent them from jostling in the hectic escape. Blake wasn't sure what was keeping Jaune, Nora and Ren in place for none of them looked at all secure, but not a one of them so much as flinched even as Maria banked into her third vomit-inducing dive.

Yang growled, stumbling lightly as another volley of gunfire connected with their Bullhead's starboard wing. Maria's flying had lost the other two that were following them – one of which had collided rather spectacularly with the grassy ground of a park that Blake sincerely hoped had been empty at this time of night. "Ruby!" the blonde called to her sister.

Ruby extricated herself from Penny's grip, pulling Crescent Rose off her back as she did and extending the weapon into its sniper form. Blake, aware of what the two intended, withdrew Gambol Shroud and began to wind its band around Ruby's waist. Tugging on the band lightly, Blake determined she was satisfied with the tension and entwined her foot with Ruby's own. She nodded once at Yang, and her partner slapped the large button beside the starboard door. An enormous, rushing wind burst into the hold of the Bullhead, whipping hair into Yang's eyes. The rest of the party shielded their faces from the wind, even as Ruby leaned her entire upper torso out of the Bullhead, raising Crescent Rose as she did. Her weight pulled against Gambol Shroud's band and, for a moment, Blake thought she would lose her footing as the girl pulled against the anchoring of her foot, but they both held.

Ruby, seemingly unperturbed by the high winds rushing against her face and eyes, took a single breath and pulled the trigger. The portside engine of the Bullhead behind them exploded, and the machine dipped downwards, spiraling as it fell. Blake heaved, pulling her leader back into the Bullhead as Yang prompted the door to close. There was no applause, no thumbs up, no celebration. Ruby reclaimed her seat beside Penny, Blake again braced herself against the door and Yang succinctly reported, "We're clear! Get us out of here!"

Maria didn't need to be told twice. The Bullhead angled downwards in an instant, turning sharply in the direction of Mantle.

Blake grimaced in pain as she all but peeled her jacket off of her. The sweat of their battle with the AceOps had stuck it to her skin which made for a very uncomfortable feeling as she took it off. Team RWBY may have come out of their fight the clear victors, but it had not been without cost. Elm hit like a truck, and Blake was fairly certain her muscles would still be sore in a week. Around her, the rest of her Team were responding in much the same way. Yang was rubbing her left forearm idly, attempting to massage away a muscle spasm. Weiss was groaning, a mix of pitiful and overjoyed as she stretched and popped her back. Only Ruby, who had largely just kept Harriet on the run for the duration of the battle, seemed largely okay. She was flexing her hand repetitively, although that could just as easily have been a nervous tick as it could have soreness.

They were in Mantle, safe for the time being. Pietro, not yet included on Atlas' Most Wanted bulletin, had offered them his home for the time being. It was a modest, three-bedroom townhouse, but it was more than they could have hoped for. Soon enough, Ironwood would connect Penny's disappearance with their escape, and Pietro would be the first person he turned to, but that was hours away. Hours they could use for food and rest before they were forced to pick up and move. Yang was already half asleep, and Ruby wasn't far behind her. Weiss looked strangely wired – a likely consequence of her confliction about her sister, if Blake had to guess – and Blake herself was exhausted. Unfortunately, the cat Faunus knew sleep was not in her immediate future.

Free of her confining jacket, Blake peeled her combat top off next, leaving her in just her pants and a tank top. Closing her yes, she stretched her neck, groaning delightfully as a rapid series of delicious pops released the immediate tension. Her right hand rose to rub idly at the union of her chin and neck. A hot shower would do wonders to fix her up. It was the next best thing after sleep.

Blake sighed, opening her eyes again and locking them with Yang's. Her partner smiled lightly at her, nodding her head to the right in the direction of JNPR's room. Blake met her smile gladly. "Thank you," she mouthed. Yang only nodded.

JNPR's room was even smaller than RWBY's. It had a single, full-sized bed, accompanied by a plain, beige throw in the corner of the room. A series of packed bookshelves lined the wall and to her left, a desk was pushed up just beside the bathroom door. A plain, unadorned guest room if ever she had seen one. Currently, the bed was unoccupied. Jaune caught her eye first, of course, but he hadn't seen her yet. He was slumped against the edge of the bed, his eyes downcast as a single hand ran slowly through his hair. To his left, Ren didn't look much better, his gaze distant and faraway as if he found the fruit patterned wallpaper extremely intriguing. Nora was doing her best, crouched between the two of them with her arms around the shoulders of both, but Blake could see at a glance that she was a push away from collapsing herself.

Blake cleared her throat, catching the immediate attention of Nora and Jaune. It was not enough to draw Ren out of his daze. "Can you guys give us the room, please?" she asked softly. She caught Nora's eye, pleading silently with her to understand what she was asking. Of course, the redhead did, rising smoothly and dragging Ren up with her. Oh, how often Blake had thought her insane and faraway back at Beacon. Nora was much more aware of things than anyone – Blake included – gave her credit for. Blake caught her hand she and Ren passed her, squeezing it lightly and getting a squeeze in return. It was all Blake could do for her. She and Ren were hurting in their own way, but that was not Blake's responsibility to fix.

Blake closed the door softly behind her. Her fingers grazed the lock before she forcibly dropped them. It was an old habit to lock a bedroom she and Jaune were in. Too many chances of Yang 'stumbling' in with a shit-eating grin on her face. But they weren't at Beacon anymore. Ironwood could find them at any moment, and a locked door was an unfortunately needless delay in the event of an emergency. Instead, she turned around, stalking over to where Jaune was still silently slumped. He hadn't even taken off his armor yet.

She extended her hand. "Stand up," she ordered. He raised his eyes, meeting hers for the first time. They were clouded, misted over by unshed tears and suppressed emotion, but Blake could see them clear ever so slightly just for having looked at her. She could see the urge to argue in his eyes. She could see him contemplate batting her hand away. And she could see those thoughts die as soon as he had them. He took her hand, allowing her to pull him up to full height.

Keeping her grip on his hand, Blake led them into the bathroom. She pressed him up against the counter, placing a single hand on his chest and glaring at him in a gesture that very clearly said 'stay' and then she turned back around, wandering back into the bedroom. She searched through three drawers in the dresser before finding what she was looking for. Two green towels and a washcloth that she bundled into her arms and carried back to the bathroom. Blake used her foot to shut the door with a soft click. Jaune hadn't moved, evidence either of his willingness to listen to her when she gave him an order or else his inability to do much else than what he was told at the moment. Blake set the bundle of towels down on the bathroom counter and set to work on him.

The armor on his arms came first. She unclasped them with one hand and slid them off with another, careful to place them on the floor as quietly as she could. As wired as some of them were, others were surely exhausted, and she didn't want to disturb their sleep with the clatter of armor. Next was his chest plate. Her hands grazed lightly over the clasps on his rib cage, noting the way he hissed in pain as she did. She slid it gently over his head and likewise placed it quietly on the floor. When her hands gripped the edge of his high-collared shirt, he said his first words.

"Blake…" Whatever else he might have wanted to say was unnecessary. Her name held a hundred emotions within it, all of which she could read easily. His hands had latched onto hers as well, stopping them in the middle her ministrations.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, Jaune." With that, she pushed his hands away and divested him of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it haphazardly in the same corner she had placed his armor.

She paused, her eyes drinking him in. It had been quite a while since she'd seen him like this, and these were not the circumstances she had envisioned putting them back in this situation again. Her fingers hovered briefly over deep, red welts and already purpling bruises. They covered his ribs and stomach, no doubt extending down to his legs as well in places. A bright red streak was beaming at her from his neck. Neo had done a number on him. Her fingers began to work idly at his belt for a moment before his hands once again clamped around hers.

"Blake…" There was more warning in his voice this time, prompting her to scowl up at him.

"What?" she demanded. He didn't respond, choosing instead to meet her gaze with as much fire as he could muster. It wasn't much. It never had been when it came to her. "You need a shower, Jaune." His belt came loose, and she slid it off his waist in a single pull, wincing lightly at the clatter it made as it joined the rest of his clothes. She had forgotten about the metal buckle.

Seemingly out of protests, Jaune did not speak again as she took off the rest of his clothes. He willingly stepped out of his pants without protest, and actually took the initiative to kick his shoes and socks off himself. That done, Blake divested herself of her clothes in short order, unable to help the winces and the gasps of pain as her clothes brushed against her own bruises. She stilled as Jaune's hand caressed her cheek. He was looking her over in the exact same way she had only just done to him – a strange mix of hunger and concern.

His eyes traced a growing bruise up the length of her ribs, rising until they connected with her own. She attempted a smirk. "You should see the other guy."

Jaune didn't smile, but some small amount of humor danced across his eyes. Blake would consider that a win. "Underwear next," she commanded.

This time, something resembling a smirk did cross Jaune's face. "You aren't gonna take those off for me?"

Blake matched his smirk with a much more real one of her own. "Well, then you'd have to take mine off for me," she reached up to pat his cheek twice, "and I know how long it take you to get a bra off. We're short on time, Jaune."

The laugh that bubbled out of his lips was music to Blake's ears as she turned away towards the shower. She made quick work of removing her own underwear, eager to step into the shower and escape the cold chill of the bathroom air. She groaned in pleasure as gloriously hot water rolled across her back and shoulders, but she was far more pleased by the sigh of contentment that escaped her lips as she felt him join her in the tiny shower. She leaned back against his chest, closing her eyes against the splatter of hot water against her face. His arms snaked around her waist, holding her gently. He seemed to be painfully aware of the bruise on her side.

She reached up, capturing the back of his head and pulling him down into a soft, gentle kiss. "It's not your fault," she whispered gently when they separated.

His arms tightened around her almost imperceptibly, and his head dipped down, resting his forehead on her shoulder. She remained silent, caressing the back of his head.

"Do you remember when Yang lost her arm?" she asked, almost idly. She felt him chuckle humorlessly against her shoulder.

"Hard to forget," he mumbled almost inaudibly.

Blake rolled her eyes, twisting around to face him. Her hand resting lightly on his chest, she looked up into his eyes. "Do you remember what you told me when I tried to run?"

Jaune flinched, his eyes scrunching up in pain as he leaned away from her. "That's–"

"You told me it wasn't my fault," she cut him off. Her hand snaked up to wrap around his head again, pulling him back closer to her. "You told me I didn't cut her hand off. That it wasn't my fault, and to pretend like it was, was selfish."

Jaune's head fell. "Yang was alive, Blake."

She slapped him, the sound echoing painfully in the humid, steam filled bathroom. He didn't react, not even reaching up to rub at his suddenly very red cheek. He didn't even turn his head back to face her from where her slap had turned his head. "Fuck you," she told him bluntly. "You don't get to undermine what she went through to make yourself feel better now."

He turned back to her, raising his eyes to meet hers again and swallowed. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

She rubbed her thumb idly against his cheek, her eyes surveying the damage she'd done. It was nothing. His Aura would heal it before they were out of the shower. "Oscar didn't go to face Ironwood because you told him to, Jaune. He wasn't following an order. He was doing what he knew he needed to."

"We should have been there with him," Jaune argued, true fire entering his voice for the first time. "He was part of our Team. He was my partner. He–" Jaune's voice broke, and he choked back a sob.

"Oscar isn't Pyrrha, Jaune," Blake sighed.

Jaune broke, all but collapsing into her as raucous, choked sobs escaped his lips. His arms constricted tightly around her as he cried into her neck, and she winced against the pain but didn't say anything. She only ran her hands through his hair, nuzzling him gently as he cried.

Slowly, they sunk to the floor, Jaune leaning even further into her as they did. They would remain there for a long while yet.