Red Ruin
Years ago...
Qrow Branwen took a sip from his flask. He glanced at the small girl seated next to him on some fallen log and felt deeply sorry for her; Yang had the
everything of someone in desperate need of a sip herself, but Qrow wasn't about to offer.
"You've gone all quiet, Firecracker," he drawled.
The blonde said nothing. It wasn't like Yang to be quiet, and that worried Qrow more than he was going to admit. Hell, she was as quiet as...
Qrow looked in front of him.
Ruby stared back. It was a blank, emotionless stare that seemed focused on something somewhere inside your skull, and the deep, deep dark circles around those silver eyes only emphasized it.
Ruby stared at him some more, and then went back to staring at Yang.
The younger of Qrow's nieces looked bizarrely unperturbed by what had nearly happened. Sure, both of them looked like hell, but Ruby
always looked like hell to some extent, depending on when she last slept. If anything, she looked a little better- at least she wasn'
t flinching or crying out at things only she could see. Or
whispering.
Qrow had only seen Ruby this calm when Summer had been alive.
Yang, on the other hand... She'd blurted out everything to Qrow after he'd killed the Beowolves, and then fallen into a silence that he didn't like one bit.
"Yang..."
"Where is she?" Yang asked. Qrow didn't need to guess who "she" was.
"No idea, Firecracker," he admitted, "she talks to me, sometimes. Messages. Nothing to trace her by."
A long, long silence.
"... Does she ask about us?"
"No."
"... Could she come back?"
"She
could, maybe." A sigh. "She
won't. And trust me, I've tried to get her back enough times to know."
Small hands gripped the edge of her blouse, and Yang lowered her head.
A small part of Qrow wanted to slap some sense into Taiyang. The rest of him understood that the man had quite a few reasons to have taken Summer's death (and it had to be death; nothing
else would've kept her away) as hard as he had, and that he was hardly a comforting sort of presence.
Ruby tilted her head, one way and then the other. She kept
staring at Yang. The red cloak that Summer had gifted her shrouded her and pooled onto the floor. Qrow saw Yang look up at her sister, and then Ruby was suddenly half a meter further from them than she had been.
Yang winced. "Sorry," she whispered.
Ruby said nothing. Did nothing. Just stared and
stared.
Then,
"Sorry?"
The word had been like an apparition, coming from absolutely nowhere and then leaving so quickly you were almost sure you'd imagined it. Qrow couldn't even quite remember having heard it; it was just...
there. Soft and harsh and a bit
too much like the whispers that followed his niece around for Qrow's piece of mind.
"I'm sorry," Yang said, a little louder, "I shouldn't have come here. It's just..." A hiccup. "I promised mom I'd take care of you, but it's just so... So..."
Yang fell silent.
"... My fault."
"It's not," Qrow snapped, "Don't
ever think that. You didn't ask for any of this."
"Is."
And
boy did Ruby have a glare on her. Positively milk-curdling material. Qrow was
almost impressed.
"Is
n't," he drawled.
"My fault."
Qrow snorted. "Kid, if you go around claiming everything bad that ever happens as something you're responsible for, you'll never stop trying to make up for it." A sip from his flask. "You'll always be running yourself ragged and feeling miserable. And that ain't any way to live. This was Yang's fu-
mistake," he hastily corrected himself again; being around Harlan was contagious in all the
worst ways, "and kids like you two make 'em all the time --heck, this isn't even
half as stupid as some of the things I got up to when I was your age."
Yang sniffled.
Ruby didn't move. Which is why Yang was so startled when she glanced up and saw her little sister suddenly in arm's reach.
"... Promise."
Yang blinked. "Wha?"
"Promise you won't burn."
That phrase made
no sense to Qrow, and it was about the most words Ruby had ever said in one go with him to hear. But Yang seemed to understand; she sat straight up and looked at Ruby in the eye.
"I promise."
Again, Ruby didn't move. Not immediately.
She shuffled closer to Yang, bit by bit. Stopping often. Retreating once. Advancing again.
Qrow watched the whole thing in fascination. Yang was being about as patient as Yang could be. Sometimes she looked about to urge Ruby to move faster, but bit her lip and visibly forced herself to settle down.
Ever so slowly, Ruby made it to the log, and crawled onto it, red cloak bunched up around herself. She trembled once and, with a cry, threw herself at Yang.
Yang froze. Wordlessly, she put her arms around her little sister and pulled her tight. Ruby squrimed, but then, almost immediately, went still.
"... Warm."
"... Huh," Qrow said, "I thought she
hates being touched."
"S-she does." Yang sounded and looked as shocked as Qrow felt, "she doesn't even let me get close..."
"She thinks I'm gonna burn her."
