What Defines Us - Ch. 15 (Patreon)

The hallways were busy and crowded - filled to the brim with a bustle Weiss had long ago learned to tolerate but still hated all the same.  They were built wide and tall, yet somehow seemed cramped on the best of days, and suffocating on the worst.

There was nothing she could do about it though - the additional employees were necessary in getting this plant off the ground.  Important deadlines were rapidly approaching and many processes still weren’t completely up and running yet.

“What’s this?” she asked a man standing next to a cart carrying a stack of filled crystal boxes.  She didn’t bother waiting for his response before answering her own question, “These are supposed to be on the third manufacturing floor.  Take them there now.”

There wasn’t a single word of argument to be heard as he took the handle of the cart and pushed it towards the elevators as quickly as he could.

“Incompetence…” she muttered to herself before turning into the nearly operational boxing facility.  

The massive room held several large pieces of machinery that cost more than most houses to purchase.  Feeding into each machine was a towering stack of flattened boxes - not unlike the ones the man on the cart had just taken upstairs - that would be popped into form before riding long conveyor belts to be filled with vials of Dust.  From this morning’s report, she knew that the room had successfully integrated with the refinery next door, but was suffering from several internal yellow lights which needed to be resolved.

Her eyes scanned the silent machines - monstrosities that cost vast sums of money every day they sat dormant - before searching for someone in charge.  Finding a middle-aged woman nearby with a green badge clipped to her shirt and a notebook in her hands, Weiss stalked over.

“What’s the status?” she asked, causing the woman to visibly start from the unexpected demand for a progress report.

“Uh, the uh, assembly line is running smoothly, but the boxing machine needs to be recalibrated one more time.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”  Weiss didn’t allow the woman time to answer the rhetorical question.  “This needs to be working in two hours.  Make it happen.”

“Yes, Miss Schnee,” the supervisor replied, bowing her head before rushing towards her subordinates.

Sighing, Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.  It was going to take them three hours to have the machine recalibrated, but at least they wouldn’t lose another full day. 

“Miss - uh, Miss Schnee?”

Opening her eyes at the sound of her name, she found a younger man in a white polo waving and rushing over to her.  Rushing was never a good sign - rushing meant something had gone wrong.  Again.

“What is it?” she snapped, irritation growing at the continued issues that shouldn’t even be occurring.  There were very clear, very detailed step-by-step guides for every single process in this building - how did these employees fail at every possible turn?

“I just need your signature!” he said, holding a clipboard out to her.  Snatching it away from him, she flipped it around so she could read the form before approving it.  As her eyes skimmed the words on the page, her displeasure grew.

“You lost...an entire shipment of Dust?”  Looking up from the authorization in her hands, she stared at the man in utter disbelief.

“Not lost!” he quickly replied, looking more uncomfortable by the second and refusing to meet her eyes.  “Temporarily misplaced.  It was supposed to come here, but went to Vacuo instead.  We just need your signature to approve the additional transport bringing it over here.”

It was a monumental error that he was attempting to make sound like a simple mistake with an easy fix.  Of course, Weiss knew better than that.  She’d grown up in these factories, after all.  She knew how much it cost to run the lights in the manufacturing floors for an hour.  She knew how much the daily supply of coffee cost.  And she absolutely knew how much it cost to reroute a shipment of Dust from across the globe.

Gritting her teeth in now-simmering anger, she swiped the pen out of his hands and quickly signed her name - there was no other option but to acquiesce, they needed that shipment here yesterday.  She paused for only a second before carefully placing the date beside her name - curling the ‘2’ and slicing through the ‘7’ before shoving both items back into the man’s hands in annoyance.  Before she could threaten to fire him, he smartly spun on his heel and raced the way he’d come without ever looking back.  Staring after him in irritation, she unclenched her fist and tried to loosen her ever-tightening jaw.   

Today was supposed to one of the happiest days of her life.  Instead, she was spending it attempting to squeeze a modicum of competence out of complete and utter incompetence.

Feeling the ache in her chest, she forced her mind away from the date and back to her ever-expanding list of problems.  There were a million different boxes that needed to be checked and she seemed to be the only one doing the checking.  But her agitation at her employees’ repeated failures was a much better emotion to hang onto than that ache, which she needed to keep her mind as far away from as possible.

A loud grinding suddenly filled the air, followed closely by frenzied shouts of surprise before the sound cut off.  Turning towards the source of the noise, she sighed when she saw the thin plumes of smoke rising out of one of the boxing machines.

Someone must have set the calibration incorrectly.  That was going to cost them another day to replace the gears that had just been fried by sheer ineptitude.

Shaking her head, she left the boxing facility behind in favor of the busy corridor.  Moving out of the way when two large, motorized carts transporting heavy pieces of machinery passed by, she then crossed the hall and walked onto the extraction floor on the other side - where Dust was removed from the rocks it was embedded in.  

Upon entering the massive room, she was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by the sight and sounds of a manufacturing center in full production.  There were employees at several of the terminals running last-minute diagnostics, but she could tell them that everything was working properly without running a single test.

There was a particular sound these machines made when they were working in perfect harmony…a soft hum that had its own unique melody.  This was knowledge she’d gained over years of walking through these rooms as a child, so she couldn’t fault the new workers for not recognizing it yet.  But all of the machinery was performing flawlessly at the moment.  When they finished their second and third tests, this would be confirmed and eventually green-lit for operation.

Which meant that something was finally working - and ahead of schedule.

Taking a content breath, she wasn’t able to enjoy the meager victory for more than a second before a familiar flash of white drew her full attention.  Off to her right, stepping around one of the extractors before giving it a nod of approval, was the very last person Weiss wanted to see on this inauspicious day.

Winter.

Straightening her posture on instinct, Weiss watched Winter make a short comment to the floor supervisor before catching Weiss’ gaze and striding purposefully over.  There was something about the way Winter walked that exuded authority.  Maybe it was her hands clasped behind her back, or the rigid posture, or the tightened bun...regardless, nearby employees skirted out of the way without her ever having to alter her path.

“Weiss,” Winter said after she’d stopped a polite distance away, dipping her head in greeting.

“Winter,” Weiss replied in kind - their ultra-formal greeting nearly a ritual by now.  Only after the formality was completed did Winter unfurl a warm smile.

“How are you doing?” 

The question was soft and caring, but Weiss didn’t feel like answering the true intention behind it at the moment.

“Everything is progressing as to be expected.  Specs are up-to-date and production is running...moderately smoothly.”  She gestured towards the assembly line while she spoke, and Winter’s gaze briefly followed the path of her hand before returning to her.

“That’s great to hear, but not what I was asking.”

Pursing her lips, Weiss remained stubbornly silent.  She knew exactly what Winter was referring to, but that wasn’t a subject she wanted to broach right now - or ever.  

Winter waited patiently for a reply that wasn’t going to come before finally turning and gesturing with her head for Weiss to follow.  With no other option but to oblige, Weiss fell into step beside her sister as they made their way out of the large manufacturing floor.  Side-by-side, the two of them re-entered the corridor and moved towards the bank of elevators.  Where Weiss had felt cramped several minutes earlier, she now found there was plenty of breathing room - the ever-spacious halls providing ample room for walking in Winter’s presence.

“How long since you’ve slept?”

The unexpected question made Weiss’ brow furrow while the tired pressure behind her eyes re-announced itself on cue.  

“I’m fine.”  

The words were short and clipped as she obediently followed her older sister through the halls of Schnee Dust’s newest operating facility.  A strong cup of coffee had gotten her through most of the morning after yet another night with no sleep to speak of.  Another cup would be waiting for her later on - as many as she needed to carry her through the day.  She didn’t need sleep when she had a steady supply of caffeine at her fingertips.  And, most importantly, she didn’t need to have this conversation again.

“How long since you’ve eaten?  A real meal?”

Snapping her jaw shut, Weiss glowered down the hallway and remained silent as they stepped into the next empty elevator.  There were plenty of other employees waiting to be ferried to the higher levels, but no one attempted to share the confined space - instead, the doors shut with just the two of them inside.  As soon as the doors soundlessly sealed, Winter selected a floor and then resumed her perfect posture.

Glancing at the number, Weiss now understood that her sister was taking them to Weiss’ office on the top floor of the building.  Fine by her.  At least there they would have some privacy if Winter insisted upon continuing this one-sided conversation.

“I thought you’d be in Mistral until next week,” Weiss commented as the elevator climbed into the sky, both of them watching the floor numbers illuminate in succession rather than look at one another.

“I came back early.”

“To check up on me?”

There was no response, which may as well have been a resounding ‘yes.’  Grinding her molars together, Weiss attempted to hold the indignation to a moderate level as it built in her chest.  

The only reason she’d assumed it would be a normal work day was because Winter was out of town.  To hear that she’d flown all the way back for no reason other than to monitor Weiss’ wellbeing was aggravating and entirely unnecessary. 

“Today’s the 27th -” 

“I’m well aware,” Weiss snapped before Winter could finish the thought.  The blunt reply caused Winter to pause for several seconds before finally speaking again - continuing her soft, patient tone.   

“I thought that today, of all days, you might need someone to talk to.”

Winter couldn’t be more wrong.  Today was the very worst day for Weiss speak about what had happened.  Today was the day she wanted to do anything but acknowledge the past.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled towards the wall, folding her arms over her chest and tapping one foot in agitation.  In the silence that followed, her stomach gave a small jolt when the elevator came to a stop - a soft ding announcing their arrival.

The doors slid open to reveal a sparse corridor with no employees in sight.  Compared to the manufacturing floors, this floor was well-decorated, with expensive paintings on the walls and living plants that required their own assistant to care for them.  There were only a handful of offices on this level - Weiss’ included.

In relative silence, Weiss followed Winter’s lead towards the glass door - second on the left - which opened into a larger lobby that acted as a reception for any of Weiss’ visitors.  There was a desk placed immediately inside the doorway, although it was noticeably devoid of anyone at the moment.

When Weiss glanced around the room in search of the secretary who practically lived in this chair, Winter broke the quiet.

“I asked her to take an extended lunch break,” Winter explained - the response only creasing Weiss’ brow further.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I wanted the opportunity to speak with you,” Winter answered calmly, continuing in earnest when she heard the sigh Weiss let slip.  “I knew today would be difficult for you -”

“Winter,” Weiss interrupted, holding up one hand in an effort to prevent her sister from saying anything more.  “I’m fine.  Today is a day like any other.  There's nothing special about it.”

The response would have been more believable if her voice hadn’t cracked in the middle of delivering it, but, instead of arguing, Winter smiled sadly and placed her hands behind her back as if she didn’t know what to truly do with them.

“I had a feeling you might say that...” she commented before turning her blue gaze back to Weiss.  “I would do anything for you, you know that?” 

“I know,” Weiss replied, fully understanding that what Winter said was true.  When Weiss had been younger, her sister was one of the only people she’d had in her life to lean on for support.  Winter had done her part in ensuring that Weiss was protected - as much as was possible given their family circumstances.  It still hadn’t been easy, but...Weiss shuddered at the thought of what it could have been like without her sister.

Thankfully, the answer made Winter nod in content.

“I know we weren’t able to grow up as normal people do,” she continued.  “There was always so much pressure to be perfect, on you more than anyone else.  I worried how that would affect you…”

Weiss frowned, unsure if the comment was vaguely insulting in some way - as if Winter might be implying that she wasn’t able to handle the pressure.

“I think I managed just fine.”

“I know you did.  You thrived in it.  But at what point does perfectionism begin to affect you?”

The question appeared rhetorical from the way Winter’s gaze unfocused, then drifted into a distant corner of the room.  When Winter did return to the present moment, she took a step sideways to lead them towards the solid wood door of Weiss’ office.

“Have you thought anymore about returning to Vale?” she asked as they walked, hopefully failing to notice how the mere mention of the city was enough to make Weiss flinch.

“No.”

The answer was a complete lie.  There wasn’t a day that passed without Weiss grappling with whether or not she should leave Atlas - she considered it each morning before heading to a job that served only as a distraction, and each night while attempting to find some semblance of sleep in a house that would never be her home.   

But the idea of returning to Vale terrified her far more than the reality of staying away did.  That life had ended - this was her life now.  One of these days, she had to accept that.

And Winter would have to, too.

Reaching the office door, Winter finally stopped and turned to Weiss with caring eyes that were almost too much sometimes.  Knowing what Weiss had done, how could Winter still look at her in that way?  Weiss wasn’t the one who needed compassion or concern right now.  She wasn’t the one who’d been forced into months and months of doctor's appointments and physical therapy.

“I only want what’s best for you,” Winter said, her eyes never leaving Weiss’ so she would know that the words were true.  Sighing at the sincerity, Weiss tried to let go of her stubbornness and at least recognize that her sister was looking out for her.  And, even though she didn’t believe she deserved any of that kindness, the fact that Winter still extended it was worthy of gratitude.

“I know,” Weiss replied softly, dipping her head a fraction of an inch in deference.  “I appreciate that - I really do.”

Satisfied with the answer, Winter nodded her head once before opening the office door and gesturing Weiss through.  Willingly obliging, it was only when Weiss’ eyes found the room beyond that her feet planted to the floor.  She actually took one step backwards, only to hear the sound of the door closing behind her.  A second later, Winter placed one hand on Weiss’ shoulder and gently prodded her forward.

She’d only been annoyed before - now she was on the verge of steaming mad.

“Weiss, this is Dr. Marigold,” Winter explained, gesturing to the petite blonde woman who was rising from one of the comfortable leather chairs situated in front of the desk.  “Doctor, this is my sister, Weiss.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the woman politely replied, stepping forward and extending a hand.  

Agitated by the intrusion into her personal space, Weiss wanted very much to ignore the greeting, but she failed - the social training ingrained too deeply for her to circumvent so easily.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she said in a clipped voice, quickly shaking the woman’s hand before turning to Winter with a meaningful glare.  “Now if you’ll both excuse me, I have work to do.”

“I’ve already cleared your afternoon schedule.”

The sentence made Weiss spin back to Winter in disbelief.

“You did what?”

“I cleared it,” Winter repeated, not wilting at all under Weiss’ withering gaze.  Instead, Winter stepped closer, setting one hand lovingly on Weiss’ shoulder while dropping her voice to a whisper.  “If you won’t talk to me, you need to talk to someone.”

“I’m fine,” Weiss spit out through gritted teeth.  The response only managed to make Winter sigh while the briefest expression of hurt flashed through her eyes.

“Please, Weiss.  Do this for me?  Fifteen minutes - that’s all I’m asking.”

There were so many words Weiss wanted to say right now - none of them very nice - but she could say nothing while company was present.  The incredulity and annoyance would have to wait for another day when their conversation would remain private.

“If I do...then you’ll drop this?  For good?” she asked instead.  Winter was slow in responding - her nod a hesitation late - but she did nod in agreement.  

“If you want me to, yes.”

This wasn’t at all what Weiss wanted to do right now, but if she could put up with it for a few minutes it would be worth finally escaping the subject altogether.

“Fine,” she huffed out in response, hastily sitting on one of the chairs in the most disgruntled way she possibly could.

“Thank you,” Winter replied softly, squeezing Weiss’ shoulder again before quickly exiting the room and pulling the door quietly shut behind her.  Once the room fell silent, Dr. Marigold took the seat in front of Weiss and watched her intently.  It was a gaze of careful analysis that made her want to squirm in discomfort, but she refused to grant the woman the vindication.

“How has your day been, so far?” Dr. Marigold asked after several seconds.  It was a simple question, but every bit of the woman’s persona reeked of too much concern.  It was hard to find that level of concern believable, even though the veneer was genuine.

“It was wonderful until two minutes ago,” Weiss quipped in reply, folding her arms across her chest in what she knew came across as a defensive position.  But she was defensive.  This was her office and her sister had invited a goddamn shrink into it.

“Your sister is worried about you - that’s the only reason she would go to such great lengths to help you.”

“So I’ve heard,” Weiss replied before rolling her eyes.  Falling silent, she stared out of the floor-to-ceiling windows of her office while clenching and unclenching her jaw in anger.  She’d always known that Winter would try to help, but to do this?  This was nearly unconscionable.  

“Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” Dr. Marigold finally ventured to ask.

“No.”

More silence followed as Weiss refused to look anywhere but the freshly-cleaned window glass.  The cleaners had actually missed a small spot.  She’d have to point that out to them later...

“Your sister told me a little bit about what happened.  I can only imagine how difficult this has been for you…”

That statement brought Weiss’ eyes snapping back to the woman, feeling a sudden surge of fire burn through her veins.

“You can’t even imagine what this is like,” she replied, her voice low and angry.  “Unless, somehow, you’ve also lost your partner and best friend - all because of a mistake you made.  Because of your own failings.”

She glared at the woman while waiting for a response, but Dr. Marigold was silent for several seconds before speaking again - undeterred by the hostility.

“Sometimes, when traumatic events happen, we forget that even those who escaped physically unharmed can suffer emotional injuries -”

“I’m fine.”

How many times must she reiterate that sentence before it became true?  She couldn’t not be fine.  She couldn’t be weak or broken.  ‘Emotionally injured’ wasn’t a label someone in her family could ever accept.

“You might be walking fine and speaking fine, but what about sleeping?  Eating?”

Pausing, Dr. Marigold finally caught Weiss’ gaze - her own yellow-brown eyes emitting open empathy and compassion for stories and woes she’d yet to hear.

“What do you like to do in your free time?”

“I try not to have any,” Weiss answered easily, pulling away from that understanding gaze.

There was no one more involved in the day-to-day tasks in this building than she was.  Even her father had seemed mildly impressed with the level of commitment she put into getting this factory up and running ahead of schedule.  Each day she came in earlier than anyone else.  She stayed later.  She worked weekends.  There was no such thing as a day off for her.  When she did end up away from the office, she brought work with her and spent her evenings consumed in the fine print until she might literally fall asleep at her desk.

Free time wasn’t a part of her schedule by design, for it was in the moments when life slowed down that the tidal wave of emotions began to erode the edges of her mind.  The doubt...the agony...the overwhelming sense of loss...

“I understand today is an important day for you.”

The comment succeeded in making her flinch in pain - if that had been the doctor’s intention.  Weiss had started the day determined not to acknowledge the date and its significance.  It would’ve been much easier to accomplish that goal if life wasn’t set on reminding her at every possible turn.

“It was supposed to be,” she replied, dropping her gaze and watching her fingers curl and uncurl in her lap.

“Do you ever think back on what happened?”

It was a stupid question, and she gave the woman a look that said as much.

“Would you think about it?” she shot back sarcastically.

Even though she’d removed all free time from her schedule, her brain always seemed to find pockets of time to dwell on the past.  No matter how busy she kept herself, no matter how much work she did, her mind found moments in which to needle her heart with agony.  When she walked from meeting to meeting, waited for a cup of coffee, or was driven home from the office - there were still small gaps in her schedule that were more than enough for the wave of emotions to wash against her levees.  The moments, though seemingly minor, constantly threatened to unravel her...preventing her from ever feeling whole.

Even if she could somehow manage to block out these portions of the day, there was the problem of sleeping…as soon as she closed her eyes the memories came back - the forest, the blood, the hospital, the blank way silver passed right over her.  If she did manage to fall asleep, it was with the assurance of nightmares - a replay of true events or new tortures her mind created just for her personal viewing.  They were filled with ‘coward,’ ‘failure,’ ‘your fault,’ and the worst of all…‘I thought you loved me.’

So, yes.  While she attempted to keep herself busy at all times and hours of the day, she still thought about the past - constantly.  There were triggers all around her - the smell of flowers, which she’d ordered removed from the building to be replaced by scentless plants.  The smell of baked goods, causing her to alter the path taken to work to avoid passing too closely to a small bakery nearby.  

In every way, the world beckoned her to look back - and, when she first arrived in Atlas, she made the mistake of listening.  There were messages between her and Ruby still trapped in her scroll.  There were photos, saved voice messages, saved video messages.  She’d spent nearly an entire day crying after going through them, and hadn’t dared glance at them again.  Instead, she silently grieved, and grieved, and grieved, for the love they’d lost.

“Have you spoken with anyone about it?”

“No.”

That was a pretty simple answer.  Of course she hadn’t spoken to anyone about what had happened - besides when she’d still been in Vale.  Everyone had needed a summary when Ruby had gotten hurt, but that hadn’t meant they needed to know how Weiss felt about it.  There’d been no reason to mention the rampant guilt and anguish that spread through her like an infection...taking over her system the instant it was clear Ruby was never fully coming back.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Dr. Marigold followed up.

“No,” Weiss still replied - another easy answer to give.

Evidently undaunted, Dr. Marigold leaned forward and rested both elbows on her knees before clasping her hands together.

“You’re not alone in this,” she remarked quietly.  “You have people who care about you.  People you can lean on for support.”

“Who?” Weiss asked, anger again beginning to swell in her chest at the woman’s continued lack of understanding.  “The friend whose sister I abandoned?  Or that friend's partner and girlfriend?”  She shook her head at the idiotic idea.  “The only person I’ve ever felt comfortable being honest with is gone.  And she’s not coming back.”

When Dr. Marigold leaned away, Weiss shook her head again - this time in annoyance that the woman had managed to pull that information out of her.

“Have you ever thought about how that day might have hurt you too?”

“Do I look injured to you?” Weiss snapped, leveling a steely gaze across the space between them.  

“I work with huntsmen - many of them,” Dr. Marigold continued, ignoring the sarcasm.  “And I can tell you that physical injuries aren't the only things that leave scars behind.  While you may appear uninjured, that might not be the case.”

Weiss scoffed at the psychoanalytical attempt at rationalizing her behavior. 

“Clearly you don't know much about my family.  We aren’t exactly known for our mental weakness.”

“Does your family name grant you invincibility?”

“Basically,” she retorted, using the answer to be haughty and confrontational.  However, Dr. Marigold didn’t take the bait.  Instead, she looked at Weiss closely, carefully, as if she could read the guilt and insecurity tattooed on Weiss’ skin.

“How does it make you feel that you’re sitting here, ‘unharmed,’ while your partner is still in and out of the hospital?”

Weiss immediately felt her face contort in pain and rage at the question.  In and out?  Ruby had been released and readmitted to the hospital?  Why?  Had something gone wrong?  Were there complications?  Were her injuries worse than initially diagnosed?

“How would it make you feel?” she weakly shot back while struggling to regain control of her spiking emotions.  Unfortunately, Dr. Marigold took the question seriously and furrowed her brow with great thought. 

“It would make me feel...very guilty, I believe,” she answered sincerely.  “I would be sad...distraught...maybe even angry that the results had been so unequal - where I was able to walk away when she could not.  That’s not very fair, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” Weiss mumbled, finally agreeing with something the woman had to say.  

The results hadn’t been close to fair...and there had been absolutely nothing Weiss could do about it.  She would’ve gladly taken all of the pain for herself...but if she couldn’t do that, couldn’t they at least share in the repercussions?  Why had Ruby been forced to shoulder everything?  Why hadn’t there been some way for Weiss to alleviate her partner’s burdens?

“Can you tell me what made you leave?” Dr. Marigold asked.  The quiet question was innocent enough, but it touched on the one subject Weiss refused to discuss with anyone.

“I’m sure Winter already provided you with a rundown,” she replied before checking the clock - making the motion as obvious as possible.

“She told me about how successful your team was, and how talented your partner was personally.  She seemed very proud of what you were able to accomplish with them.”

The longer Dr. Marigold spoke, the harder Weiss clenched her teeth together.  But the doctor continued regardless, seemingly oblivious to Weiss’ growing anger at her former team being spoken about so casually.

“She also mentioned that your partner was very special.  ‘Extraordinarily talented’ I believe were the words she used.  How did it make you feel to have a partner who was able to hold a small candle to yourself?”

Squeezing one hand into a fist in her lap, Weiss frowned at the woman sitting across from her.  

“Ruby was always better than me,” she answered in quiet anger, annoyed by the way Dr. Marigold refused to use Ruby’s name.  “She did more than hold a candle to me - she blew me away.”

Dr. Marigold nodded at the statement.

“That must have made it even more difficult to see her fall in battle.  We expect our heroes to always be there for us -” 

“Then she shouldn’t have gotten in the way!” Weiss shouted at the woman, rising out of her seat as frustration and anger flashed past her boiling point.  “I never asked for her help!  Why did she always insist on being so - damn - selfless?”

The room became deathly quiet as hot tears sprang into Weiss’ eyes.  Quickly retaking her seat, she raised one shaking hand to wipe across her eyes while trying to pull herself together.  

Dr. Marigold didn’t seem at all disturbed by Weiss’ outburst.  In fact, she appeared rather unsurprised by the sudden display of emotion.  Weiss should have seen this coming...and she should have been better equipped to guard herself against such mental intrusion.  It was always this way with these people - they would needle and needle away at a sore spot until their patient inevitably lashed out, then they would use that fit of temper as proof of whatever point they were attempting to make.  

Knowing this, she should have done a better job remaining calm and collected.  She shouldn’t have allowed her emotions to get the better of her.

“When you say she shouldn’t have gotten in the way…” Dr. Marigold began quietly.  “What you’re saying is that she shouldn’t have saved your life.”

A few minutes ago, Weiss had been successfully masking her lack of sleep with copious amounts of coffee, but suddenly she felt every bit as tired as she should.  Not just tired - she felt drained, as if her willpower had been sucked right out of her.

Given her current state of weakness, she allowed herself a few additional seconds to regain control and place an iron cage around her raw emotions.  She forced the tears back inside, where they belonged, and clamped the lid shut on her wretched past.  Only when she was confident in her ability to survive the rest of this conversation did she look up and meet Dr. Marigold’s gaze dead on.  

“I’m saying that she should have saved herself,” she answered steadily.  

They both understood the implication of that statement.  But out of Weiss and Ruby, who was more valuable?  Who was the better fighter?  The better leader?  The better sister and better friend?

Between the two of them, who was the better person?  Who was more deserving of a long, happy life?

“What do you plan to do now?”

Opening her mouth to reply, Weiss found no words to use for what should be another simple answer.  Confusion began to mount as she realized that, for the first time that she could remember, she didn’t have a plan for the future.  

What would the future hold for her?  Growing up, this had been an easy question to answer.  She would hone her skills, be admitted to Beacon, and become a world-renowned huntress.  She would save lives.  She would wipe away sour taste her family’s name left in people’s mouths.  She would make a difference.

Maybe her downfall was that she hadn’t dreamt large enough, because she’d partially accomplished all of those objectives before her life came crashing down upon her head.  Even more than her childhood delusions of heroism, she’d found a family who’d accepted her unconditionally, discovered hidden depths of power she’d never known existed, and learned what it meant to be truly selfless.

These days her only ambition was to muddle through the days while avoiding the past.  She lived from minute to minute, one second to the next.  Instead of charging towards lofty dreams, she was drifting through an endless sea of doubt and self-loathing.  Instead of having purpose and direction, she was...lost at sea.

That fateful day had changed everything in the blink of an eye.  That day had taken something from Weiss.  She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, but a part of her had disappeared along with Ruby’s memories.  

“I'll figure something out.”

What would she do when this new Dust facility was up and running?  When her eighteen hour workdays dropped to twelve or ten?  Would she run off to whatever plant was next on the list?  Would she just keep running, forever, until one day time caught up to her?

They were supposed to spend eternity together.  They were supposed to spend every day of the rest of their lives together.  Instead, Weiss had been forced to confront a life without Ruby.  And who was she without Ruby?

“From what I've been told and what I've heard, you’re an incredibly talented and capable young woman.  I know that this type of situation must be scary and unfamiliar to you, but I want to help.  I don't want to see you self destruct.”

It might already be too late for such a sentiment, but Weiss didn’t bother to say so.  Instead, she glanced at the clock again and mulled over a question before finally asking it aloud.

“If you had any advice for someone like me, what would it be?”

The answer would likely be of minimal use to her, but she’d been taught too well to collect the advice of highly-skilled professionals whenever the opportunity presented itself.  Seeing as how Dr. Marigold had gathered far more information than Weiss had been willing to provide, she would begrudgingly admit that the woman was highly skilled.

Seeming to sense that this was the one opportunity to offer some words of wisdom, Dr. Marigold thought carefully before responding.

“This exile of yours - sequestered away from your friends and teammates - understand that it’s your choosing.  No one asked you to leave.  In fact, they’d probably like for you to come back -”

The comment made Weiss scoff in disbelief.  The idea that Yang would welcome her back was almost laughable, but Dr. Marigold continued on as if Weiss hadn’t just interrupted her.

“Guilt and fear are powerful emotions, but we can’t let them control us.  In most cases blame can’t be placed solely on any one party, but we blame ourselves completely whether or not we’re at fault.  If I were to give you any advice, I would suggest that you try to see the difference between punishing yourself and truly working towards forgiveness - from others, but mostly from yourself.”

Forgive herself...Weiss would never do it.  Not as long as Ruby was still in pain.  Not as long as Ruby’s life was still in shambles.  And even if Ruby somehow made a miraculous recovery...Weiss might not even forgive herself then.

Nodding in acknowledgement of the advice, even though she wasn’t willing to accept it, her eyes shifted again to the clock before she stood up.

“Our fifteen minutes are up,” she said, shaking the woman’s hand again when Dr. Marigold stood to join her.  “It was very nice meeting you.  Please see yourself out.”

Rather than immediately head towards the door, Dr. Marigold rustled briefly in the bag Weiss had failed to notice sitting by the chair before placing a small, white card facedown on the edge of the desk.

“Feel free to call me anytime.  I’m more than happy to come back.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Weiss replied, walking over to her desk chair and picking up a document that had been left for review.  She held it up as if she might read it, but her mind wasn’t capable of absorbing any of the letters on the page.  Instead, she stared at it blankly until the sound of the office door closing signaled that she could finally relax.  

Dropping the page onto the desk, she reached across and picked up Dr. Marigold’s business card before immediately throwing it into the garbage can.  Satisfied that any trace of the woman would disappear with the next cleaning crew, she walked over to the side of her office and stood in front of the glass windows looking out from the top of Schnee Tower - overlooking the bustling Atlas city center below and the massive expanses of forest off in the distance.  In the surface of the glass, she could just barely see a reflection of herself - a ghost of the girl she’d once been.  The dark circles under her eyes refused to be hidden by any amount of expensive concealer.  Her skin was gaunt and her clothing hung off of her shrinking frame like she was slowly starving to death. 

Closing her eyes to remove that image from her mind, she turned away from the glass. 

She was fine.

She was fine, she was fine, she was fine.

The shaking in her limbs was the result of skipping breakfast, not the conversation she’d just experienced.  The sharp ache in her chest was from the stress of her job, not the despair of being worlds away from the people she loved.

Sighing, she opened her eyes and walked back to her desk.  Stopping down, she picked the business card out of the trash before sticking it into one of her desk drawers in case she needed it as a reference later.  As she did so, her gaze fell upon Myrtenaster - who leaning against the back of the desk chair right where she’d set it this morning.  

Picking up the weapon, she spun it in her hands over and over again while pacing the length of her office - savoring the weight of metal that was more familiar to her than anything else she owned.  It was like an extension of her own body and, as such, she brought it with her to and from work every day even when she had no purpose in doing so.  She didn’t need Myrtenaster here.  She didn’t need Myrtenaster period.  Yet...she refused to be separated from her weapon.

She’d always considered it to be the one possession in the world that was hers and hers alone, but now even Myrtenaster was burned with the memories of another.  It was as much Ruby’s weapon as it was her own.  How many hours had they spent down in the workshop together while Ruby tinkered with the weapon and Weiss ‘supervised?’  How many adjustments had Ruby made and then personally tested before every single aspect of the weapon felt iron tight?

It was the one possession Weiss still had that linked her to her partner.  It was the only thing she’d refused to let go of, because it felt like she could communicate with Ruby through the etchings in the blade.  Somehow, someway, through the microscopic alterations and painstakingly crafted upgrades, Ruby spoke through Myrtenaster.

As her pacing slowed to a stop, Weiss closed her eyes, wrapped her fingers around the grip and squeezed tightly.

‘How does it feel?  Does it feel awesome?  Do you like it??’

A small sob escaped while tears burned behind her eyes once more.  Her weapon was perfect because the person who’d been in charge of working on it spent countless hours ensuring it was perfect.  Ruby devoted hours and hours of her life to making sure Weiss had a wonderful weapon to fight with - all while never expecting anything as much as a ‘thank you’ in return.

Holding Myrtenaster upright and touching the cool blade gently to her forehead, Weiss stood still as a statue while her shoulders shook with emotion.

“I’m sorry...I’m so, so sorry…” she whispered before another sob crept out and the first wave of tears spilled over.  “I didn’t mean it…you know I didn’t m-mean it...”

Of course she wasn’t mad at Ruby.  How could she be mad when she would’ve done the same thing without even thinking?  They were teammates - all of them had been prepared to lay down their lives for one another.  It was just...that Weiss never expected that she’d be the one who needed saving…

If she was mad at anyone, it was herself.  For not being better.  For being in the situation where she needed to be saved, to begin with.  

She loved that Ruby was selfless.  She loved that Ruby never hesitated to help someone in need.  She loved that, in a world where everyone looked after only themselves, there was someone like Ruby out there making a difference.  Of all people though, Weiss didn’t deserve to be the one Ruby saved.  Weiss didn't deserve to be the one Ruby sacrificed herself for.

As the tears continued to fall, Weiss clenched Myrtenaster tightly in one hand and tried to draw an iota of strength from the weapon that had once been her backbone.  

Every time she broke down like this, it felt like it was more and more difficult to piece herself together again.  It was as if the very act of crying was eroding the edges of the puzzle pieces in her mind - allowing nothing to fit perfectly back together the next time around.

And she was so tired to crying by now.  One of these days, there would be no more tears left...right?

When the tears slowed to a light trickle, she opened her eyes and whipped Myrtenaster down to her side, sending a snap through the air.  After wiping her free hand across her eyes to rid them of the remaining moisture, she stared out of the window towards the forest in the distance and the perpetually snow-capped mountains even further beyond.

Dr. Marigold brought up the subject of fairness - and she was right.  How was this fair?  While Weiss marched around barking orders at subordinates, Ruby probably hadn’t been allowed to walk around on her own.  While Weiss had been spending restless nights in her mansion, Ruby had been stuck in a hospital bed.  While Weiss wrestled with the decision of whether or not to leave Atlas, Ruby hadn’t even been able to go home.

And while Ruby toiled through months of physical therapy, probably unaware that she might never regain full strength in her hand, Weiss was a world away - never having to suffer any of the consequences of her own mistake.  There was no struggle in her ivory tower.  There was no difficulty outside of what she created for herself.

How was this fair?  

At the very least, she should be forced to fight for the privileged breaths she took.  She should find the road as difficult and tedious as the one Ruby must travel.  Only then could the subject of fairness even begin to be discussed.

Striding back to her desk, Weiss jabbed the intercom button to one of the other assistants.

“Have an airship ready for me in three minutes,” she ordered before rushing out of the room with Myrtenaster in hand.  Still waiting in the empty reception area, Winter immediately stood and walked over to join her.

“I know you’re angry -”

“No,” Weiss cut her sister off, shaking her head.  “I’m not angry.  But now that I’ve fulfilled your request, I’d very much appreciate if we could leave the matter be.”

For a second it appeared as if Winter wanted to press the issue, but instead she sighed and nodded her head.  It was at that moment that her eyes found Myrtenaster, and she turned back to Weiss in surprise.

“Where are you going?”

“I have somewhere I need to be,” Weiss answered, ignoring the worried gaze and ducking around her sister to walk back into the hall. 

“Why do you need Myrtenaster?” Winter pressed while following Weiss to the elevators and watching as she pressed the button to summon the next one.

“Believe me, you’d much rather I had Myrtenaster with me than not,” Weiss commented lightly. 

“Weiss...where are you going?”

Done with the conversation, she stepped into the arriving elevator and watched as the doors blocked out concerned blue eyes.

“I’m going to make things a little more fair.”

The elevator was enveloped in silence and her stomach dropped when it was pulled further into the sky.  It slowed only a matter of seconds later, causing her to shake Myrtenaster with the beginning of anxious jitters.

There was one more level to Schnee Tower - the rooftop.  

The doors opened and she was greeted by a cold blast of wind and the steady roar of engines.  Blinking her eyes against the steadily rushing air, she left the elevator behind and strode purposefully towards the airship that was waiting for her - waiting to take her to the forest.