Who: Logan and Blake, and later Harley What: Blake dreams about fighting her ex. It doesn't end well. When: Early this morning Where: Logan's place, then the hospital Warnings: Blood and injury due to being stabbed by a sword. Also mentions of surgery, Yang losing her arm, panic attack later on and mentions of abuse
Things were getting real in the dreams. The Grimm had attacked Beacon and everything seemed to happen at once. Blake had gone after Adam the instant she’d learned he was there. She’d confronted him and decided to fight instead of run. However, it had all gone to shit very quickly. Adam had overpowered her, and she’d heard Yang calling to her.
Then there’d come the shooting pain as Adam stabbed her with his sword. Yang must’ve heard her cry out because suddenly Yang was charging. Then Adam turned and his sword flashed. Yang’s arm got cut off. Blake used her semblance to save her and get away from Adam, but the damage had been done. She couldn’t handle the fact that Yang had lost her arm because of her. That was when she made the choice to run again.
Blake woke up, initially confused and dazed from what had happened in the dream. But the instant she tried to move, pain tore through her. She cried out, pressing a hand to her stomach and pulled it away to find blood there.
“Shit,” she muttered. Blake forced herself to get up, pressing a hand over the wound. She was in a tanktop and pajama pants, so at least she was clothed. “Logan!” She called out, pain evident in her voice. She knew that he’d hear her so she didn’t call out again. Instead, she did her best to find her black bow so she could hide her cat ears. She knew she needed medical help.
Logan was jolted from his own dreams, adrenaline flooding his system from the events of his own dreams. He’d have to wait to find out how that ended, because he could smell blood that wasn’t his own and hear the pain in Blake’s voice. He crawled out of bed, pulling on some pants and rushing into her room. “Talk to me. Where are you hurt, kid?”
When Logan rushed into her room, she was leaning against the desk as she was tying her bow into place. She grunted in pain. “Stomach. I was stabbed by a sword. Missed everything vital, but I need a doctor.” Blake didn’t know how quickly her aura would kick in, but she knew that she needed help to stop the bleeding and probably to repair any internal damage.
Logan moved her shirt up, taking a good look at the wound, “I can pack that an’ stitch it up but you’re gonna need x-rays and I can’t stitch up internal bleeding. So you’re on the ball.” It wasn’t like some of the work he’d done, nor was it like working with certain people *coughdominocough* who just pulled bullets out of themselves and such.
He picked her up, “we’ll figure out an excuse on the way. At least it’s a pretty clean cut. Sharp sword.”
Blake didn’t even protest being picked up. Her mind was more laser focused on the injury. The trauma of everything else would come once she knew the extent of the injury and the bleeding was stopped. “Katana. Wielded by an expert with the weapon.” She wasn’t putting a name to who had stabbed her outloud just yet. She’d instead wait until she wasn’t bleeding.
“Did it go all the way through?” Blake hadn’t even noticed if the sword had gone all the way through her or not. Also as long as she kept talking her mind didn’t wander too much to what all had happened.
“Yep.” Logan passed the hall closet, pulling out some towels. He leaned Blake against the car once they were outside and laid the towels on the back seat. “Lets get you in.”
He would probably need to reupholster the car anyway.
“Fuck,” she grunted. She leaned heavily against the car, closing her eyes tightly. It hurt but she might also be going into shock. “Okay,” she responded and started to get in the car as carefully as possible.
“In my line of work, this is a badge of honor,” Logan pointed out. He started up the car and then pulled out. “Lucky for you, chicks dig scars. Guys too. Whichever your preference.”
Not that he couldn’t smell Yang’s attraction to Blake every single time or anything. Or the reverse, even if Blake seemed oblivious to it.
Blake grunted. “Can we not bring that into the conversation? You’re heading towards a PTSD trigger for me.” She may have snapped that too harshly but right now she was trying to not let the PTSD kick in until after she’d gotten medical attention.
“Got it,” Logan replied respectfully. Not everyone reacted the same to wounds, and again his own view was colored by his own experiences. “Try to focus on something besides the pain. A book you read recently.”
The wound and eventual scar would bother her, but it was more the whole attraction thing. Blake couldn’t handle thinking about attraction because it brought up bad behaviors and memories for her.
“I started reading the Harry Potter books. Have you read them?”
“Saw the movies, never got around to reading the books.” Logan glanced at her in the mirror. “Gonna assume there’s some differences. There usually are. How far have you gotten?”
Blake had her eyes closed and was trying to keep her breathing even, but it wasn’t easy. She had a hand pressed to the wound in hopes of slowing the flow of blood. “Haven’t seen the movies yet. I’m in the second book currently.”
“What do you think so far?” Logan tried to think which characters might appeal to her. He knew Kitty was way into Hermione, but the parallels there were pretty obvious.
“I like it. It’s an engrossing world to fall into.” Blake was feeling light-headed from the blood loss. She wasn’t sure how long she’s been bleeding for before she’d woken up. Either way she hopes they’d get to a doctor before she ended up passing out.
She’d need a new mattress, and he’d have to handle that under the table. He didn’t want her to worry about that, so he didn’t bring it up. “I like that the magic has rules. Magic in my dreams never seems to make any sense.”
The care came to a stop, and Logan got out. He pulled the door open, and lifted Blake up. “Eyes open, darlin’. Can’t have you passin’ out just yet. What’s your blood type?”
She opened her eyes, but it was hard to keep them open. She told him her blood type. “Whatever you do, do not call Yang. I can’t see her now. Call Ruby or Weiss.” She said as she just laid there in his arms like a bleeding sack of potatoes. “Or call my shrink. I’m going to need to talk to her when I’m more lucid.”
He glanced at her as a nurse ran over. “I’ll call Harley. But of the other two, which one do you think is least likely to accidentally gab to Yang.”
“Ruby. Just tell Ruby that I dreamt about the attack on Beacon and I need her. Tell her not to tell anyone else just yet.” Blake grimaced and grunted in pain.
“Got it.” Logan watched as the nurse carted Blake off, before pulling his phone out to text Ruby and call Harley.
It took a while before Blake was ready for visitors. After getting a scan to determine the internal damage, she’d undergone minor surgery to repair internal damage before getting stitched up. Luckily the katana made a clean cut so that helped. She’d also gotten a blood transfusion to replace the blood she’d lost. But once she was ready for visitors, she needed Harley first because she was starting to freak out about what all had happened in her dream.
She was in bed, head turned to the side as she was fighting tears. Her hands were clenched into fists.
Harley took a seat next to the bed, setting a brown bag on the bed. “Brought you a little something. How are you feeling?”
She’d hurried as quickly as she could, so she hadn’t even bothered with makeup, and her hair was hanging loose. Small sacrifices!
Sniffing a bit, Blake looked at the bag. “What is it?” She asked. Blake was still afraid to move at all, fearful that she might pull her stitches or something. And she didn’t want to aggravate the wound any further than it already was. Though that was what the painkillers were for. And they were doing a nice job.
“I feel like shit,” she replied bluntly. Because, well, she definitely felt like shit. She probably looked like shit as well.
“You look it.” Harley smiled at her, then stretched. Inside the bag was … a donut. She smiled at Blake and winked. “On a scale of one to ten I’m gonna assume this one was an eleven. Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”
After a moment of preparing herself, Blake carefully took the bag and opened it. The donut was unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome. Though she was going to save it for the moment.
“Yeah, it was. You remember a couple weeks back when Grimm were attacking here? I dreamt of them attacking my school. There was a huge battle, and the White Fang were there as well. Adam was there, so naturally I went to find him and confront him. It was going to be my battle with him, but things didn’t go well. We fought, but he got the upperhand. He ran me through with his sword.” Blake said, gesturing towards her stomach. Even though the area was heavily bandaged, it was also concealed under the hospital gown she was in and the covers on the bed.
That was, in a word, bad and Harley nodded as she listened. “From everything you’ve told me, I’m not surprised it came to that. In either world, a man like that could easily escalate to murder. That this was a battle situation only made that more likely.”
He sounded like a sane, anger-problem version of Mr. J.
“It was only a matter of time before our paths crossed again. But the worst part was while I was fighting with Adam, I heard Yang looking for me. She heard me cry out when Adam stabbed me. Next thing I know, she’s charging towards Adam, he barely moved and then...he cut her arm off. Yang was unconscious and I used my semblance to give me time to get her out of there.” Blake closed her eyes tightly. “She lost her arm because of me.” And that was an injury that had clearly crossed over to this life for Yang, and Blake felt so guilty about it.
As soon as Yang’s name came up, Harley knew this wasn’t going to be good. And it wasn’t. Setting aside Yang’s injury (and that explained her arm in the waking world too), Harley knew Blake would blame herself, even before Blake admitted it. “She wanted to protect you. That’s not your fault. It’s not hers either. It’s all Adam. Let me ask you something. If your positions were reversed, would you have let yourself fall on his sword to save her?”
“I like to think I would try, yes. But even so, I shouldn’t have been there. If I had been with my team, Yang wouldn’t have been out there looking for me while our school was falling apart. She wouldn’t have lost her arm if I hadn’t made the choice to just seek out Adam.” She closed her eyes as tears welled up. “I shouldn’t have been there. I left my team. I left.” Of course, getting emotional didn’t exactly help her current situation, especially since heart-felt crying tended to use the stomach muscles.
Harley reached over, squeezing Blake’s shoulder gently. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. Even if you’d been together, do you think the four of you could have faced Adam? He seems like a tough cookie.”
“Maybe we could’ve had a better chance fighting him together. I’m clearly not as strong as I thought I was.” Blake sniffed. “He should’ve just killed me. It would’ve been better that way. Instead I just up and ran away like I always do.”
“You lived, and you saved Yang from further harm, and if you’d all been there it might have been worse, ” Harley pointed out. “There’s no shame in running from a fight you can’t win. It’s never better to just die. Live to spite him, live for yourself, and your friends.” Those were all good reasons in Harley’s book.
“This man will always be a part of you, but you can overcome it, and overcome his twisted idea of love. Because let me tell you, sweetheart, from someone who’s been there. It ain’t real love. It’s obsession. And he was willing to kill you for it. Reminds me of someone I thought I loved.”
“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t run from the fight. I ran from my friends. Before the dust even settled on the ruins of our school, I was long gone. I left without a word to them because I couldn’t face them. I couldn’t face Yang. And I don’t intend to go back.” Blake clarified. “They deserve a better friend than me. They deserve someone who won’t just run away when shit gets tough.”
Blake sniffed and closed her eyes. “Really, it’s better if I’d died, then Yang, Ruby and Weiss wouldn’t have to hate me for leaving.”
“You don’t know that they hate you. “ Harley chose her words carefully. “They’d be upset. Maybe angry at first. But if they’re really your friends? They won’t hate you. Ain’t like there haven’t been times I thought the people in my dreams hated me and they didn’t, either. Better to be upset and worried than grieving.”
She leaned back. “You’ve got something dream you don’t. You can ask ‘em yourself.”
“They should hate me. Friends don’t just run away like I did. Friends stick around to help each other. But me? I just up and run away. I don’t deserve them as friends. Maybe I never should’ve left Menagerie in the first place.” Blake turned her head away, really wishing she could get out of bed and just leave.
“I already had Logan text Ruby for me. She can yell at me all she wants when she comes up here.” And she felt Ruby had every right to yell at her. After all, Yang losing her arm had been her fault, and whatever Yang had gone through after waking up, Ruby would’ve been there to see it all. And whatever Ruby had to say, she would take. Blake deserved it. She didn’t even have a good reason for leaving, so she wasn’t going to even try to defend herself. Leaving was indefensible.
Somehow, Harley didn’t think that Ruby would yell at Blake. She’d only seen the girl on the network but she didn’t seem to have a mean bone in her body. “Why did you run? Were you really that scared? Or was there another reason?” To protect her friends? Or something else?
“Running away when things get tough is my natural instinct. Yang losing her arm and the Grimm overrunning Beacon was the very definition of things getting tough. I am not reliable, as is clearly demonstrated here. I ran away from the only people who actually accepted me because running is what I do.” And Blake was getting closer to just getting out of bed and leaving Orange County and never coming back.
"Lets do an word exercise," Harley suggested. "Here, you have a support network. Me. Your friends. Logan. Who didn't leave ya until I showed up mind ya."
She waggled her eyebrows at Blake, in a silly sort of way. "Elsewhere, you don't. You've made a lotta progress an' this isn't going to knock you back either. You're not a coward, kiddo, no matter what you think. Cowards don't fight scary monsters, and there’s no shame in being afraid of monsters like Adam."
Harley clucked her tongue, "I remember when Yang lost her arm. She seemed depressed for awhile, which is understandable, before she started making arm puns. I think we can both guess she's already had this dream of yours and it ain't no car accident that took it. But she must have forgiven you for it, if she was willing to try to be friends with you. I don't see why her sister would hate you either, not that pure cinnamon roll. Or Weiss. Or anyone. Blake, you're a good person at heart, and you're worthy of friendship and affection."
After a moment, Harley added, “Talk to Logan sometime. If there’s ever a man filled with regret for his past actions, it’ll be him.”
“But cowards do run away when their friends need them.” Blake pointed out. “I don’t deserve forgiveness. It was my fault and no one can tell me any different.” She should’ve told her team about Adam. Told someone about him. Maybe that could’ve changed things. “They should all hate me. I showed my true colors when I left.”
The flash of Adam’s sword cutting Yang’s arm off played in her mind’s eye and she flinched. She needed to get out of there, but as she sat up, pain shot through her and she grunted. “Fuck,” she muttered. “I need to get out of here.” She felt panic rising and the feeling that either Adam or her ex-boyfriend in this life would show up at any moment and finish the job Adam had started in the dream.
Gently, but firmly, Harley pushed Blake back down into the bed. Blake was in no condition to be going anywhere and running would only make things worse in the end. “You deserve more than you think you do. This isn’t you, this is Adam. Your fear of him, your fear of what you’re like when you’re with him, it fuels all of this.”
Something flashed in Harley’s eyes. “Ain’t a good idea to be moving around right now. No one is gonna hurt you here, an’ anyone that tries is in for a world of hurt.”
The question Harley suddenly asked herself, was it better for Blake to have a chance to confront her abuser, or was it better for Blake to bury her abuser.
Literally.
It wouldn’t be the first time Harley had put a man in the ground, either.
Tears started falling from Blake’s eyes, both from the jolt of pain and from the emotional trauma she’d suffered from the dream. She needed to run, to get out of there, to disappear. It was difficult to think, but that was also due to the painkillers in her system.
“Maybe so, but I still made a choice to run instead of staying. I abandoned my friends even after everything we’d been through! Who does that?!” She was getting highly emotional now.
“You were abused,” Harley whispered. She moved to sit on the bed and gently envelop Blake in her arms. “Manipulated and hurt, and you weren’t ready to face him again, and he hurt your friend and probably a lot of other people. You probably blame yourself for him even being there, but you can’t blame yourself for his actions, and you can’t blame yourself for the damage he’s done to you.”
She lowered her head, trying to meet Blake’s eyes. “I’ve told you, a little, about Mr. J. Like Adam, he had a twisted sense of love and devotion. But he used me, because I was useful. Took my emotions, twisted them around until I’d do anything for him. And he’d hurt me, constantly. And there were times I’d get away from him, but then I’d see him again and it was like the cycle renewed."
Harley lifted up the bottom of her shirt to show a bullet scar. "A love tap. Where love turned to fear but even when terrified, sometimes, I wanted to go back. But eventually, I was able to get past him. Roughing him up a little helped, but I stopped listening. I stopped running. And eventually, you won't even have to think about not running, you'll just do it. So why don't we draw a line here today. You're not gonna let Adam or your ex in any universe drive you no more. No matter how scared you are, no matter how guilty you feel, you dig your heels in and you make your stand. An' I'll be right here besides you."
She closed her eyes when Harley gently hugged her. She didn’t flinch, but it did make more tears run down her cheeks. She sniffed and saw the scar from a bullet. Deep down under all of the emotional trauma she’d just gone through, the painkiller-induced haze, and the surgery trauma, Blake knew Harley was right, that she had to make a stand. But knowing and doing were two very different things.
“I’m not strong enough to dig my heels in and make my stand. I’m not ready for that. I just want to lay here and pretend I don’t exist for a while.” As much as she felt like running, Blake also just wanted to lay there and pretend that neither she nor the world at large existed.
“That’s fair too, pumpkin. An’ the rest of us, we’ll hold the fort down.” She got off of the bed. “I’ve got to make some phone calls, and I’m really cravin’ a grinder, but I’ll be nearby if you need. Just send a text, okay?”
Blake just nodded a bit. “Okay,” she said as she leaned her head back against her pillow. She closed her eyes and tried to get ahold of herself before she asked for Ruby to come in. After all, she needed to have another difficult conversation with her, and she knew if she didn’t do it now, sooner or later someone would confront her on the matter.