Work Text:
Was she always this.. jittery? Weiss didn't even realise her hands were shaking, let alone her whole body was trembling, until she looked up from where her face was pushed into her pillow.
It was one of those days, it seemed. Low energy, low mental state, low everything. It felt tiring to be awake right now but Weiss felt this tug at her stomach and chest to stay awake. A quiet you'll get over it and it's probably nothing hit her more than a few times in the seconds of her getting up out of bed. A flash of you're overreacting makes her pause for a moment, her hands freezing from where they were doing up the buttons of her shirt.
It's nothing. It's nothing.
Maybe the more she thinks about it, it'll come true.
Weiss' hands drop from her shirt, hanging limply at her sides.
She's 19, for crying out loud, why does she feel so terrible? Nothing even happened.
But if nothing happened, why is her heart beating a mile a minute? If nothing happened, why does she feel so irritated and scared? If nothing happened, why does it feel like every little interaction she's had with people over the past few days all ended horribly even though they didn't?
If nothing happened, why is she crying?
"Hey…" A cold finger tapped on her arm once, then twice when Weiss didn't react.
"Yang." Nothing but pure concern and worry we're in those purple eyes, so unlike what the cold blues of her father always had. So unlike the usual lack of care her family gave her.
"You alright?"
In all her life, Weiss can't remember being asked that. It felt so foreign, so strange, to be worried about. Before her team and her friends, this was unheard of by Weiss' ears. Only yelling and the sound of broken glass could be heard. Never care, rarely love
Team RWBY changed that. Yang changed that.
"Hey… I'm here." Yang opened her arms a little; an invitation, never a request. Weiss moved as fast as her exhausted body could and wrapped her arms around her friend, holding closely and oh so tightly.
She was crying again. Damn it. She's gonna get Yang's shirt wet.
"It's okay. It's okay, Weiss." If Yang said one more thing… "You don't have to hold back." So Weiss didn't.
Six little words erupted the dam behind her eyes out along with a sob as Weiss' hands clinged to Yang's shirt tighter.
"I don't- I don't even know why I'm crying-" Weiss tried to explain, only to get cut off with a cry and a hiccup. Yang just held her closer, one hand on the small of her back and the other gently on the back of her head, holding her face on her shoulder.
"You don't have to know. It just happens sometimes." Yang whispered, starting to slowly rock Weiss back and forth. Right, they were still standing in the middle of her room. Weiss' shirt wasn't even fully done up and yet Yang didn't bat an eye.
Sometimes Weiss wants to hate how good Yang is to her. How gentle she is. How understanding she can be under her loud personality.
They stood there for a while, holding onto each other tightly, the silence being broken up by the occasional quiet sob or sniff from Weiss.
"Yang?" Weiss whispered, keeping her eyes closed tight. She might just break down if she sees those soft lilacs again.
"Hm?"
"I think…" Weiss starts before taking a deep breath in and giving Yang one more squeeze. "I don't think I'm okay, Yang." It hurt to finally say. These past months have been building something in Weiss' mind, scratching slowly off at her mental state ever since she left Atlas in the first place. Being back made it worse, apparently. "I don't know how to be." Her voice kept getting quieter, shaking more as a new rush of tears came. "I don't know how to be okay, Yang. And I hate it. I hate being so shaky and scared and overwhelmed by nothing."
Not once did Yang interrupt her. Or belittle her. Or disregard her feelings. Or ignore her. It felt so odd. Father always would, Whitley would always follow in his footsteps, Mother was never there and chose a wine bottle over her and Winter?
She left. She'd rather be in the military, risking losing her life everyday, than be there for her little, neglected sister. Her little sister that just needed someone to hold and cry onto for once instead of a pillow.
But at least she had someone now. Better late than never, right?
"I don't know how to become better, Yang. I wish I knew. I…" Yang's prosthetic fingers gently pressed into her hair, the cold temperature of them taking Weiss out of her near sobbing state for just a moment.
"You don't have to know." Yang whispered, continuing to move her fingers in a gentle circle on Weiss' hair. "It's okay not to know."
"How can I fix it if I don't know?" Weiss accidentally mutters out loud. Yang wasn't meant to hear that…
"You can't." The blonde says simply, keeping her fingers moving in that calming motion in Weiss' hair. "And that's okay. Sometimes these things just.. happen. And we can't fix that. Besides, you don't need to be fixed." Yang leans back slightly, looking down at Weiss with a pained smile. "You just need to be loved. And to let yourself be loved. Can you do that?"
"I…" This wasn't how Schnee's worked. We fix things and deal with the emotional feelings after (it in most cases, never). This wasn't the norm. "I can try."
Yang smiles just before she leans down to press a kiss on Weiss' forehead. "And that's enough for me. Just try."
"I will." Weiss gives the smallest of smiles for the first time that day. Yang always knew what to do. "I'll try.“