Who: Yang and Blake What: Blake finally goes against her programming finds the nerve to tell Yang how she's really feeling. When: Today Where: A park Warnings: Anxiety attack, references to past abuse (physical and otherwise), and feels
Blake had been trying to ignore the fact that Yang was in love with her. She’d tried so hard to pretend she didn’t know that, but it had long since gotten to the point that Blake knew she couldn’t avoid it any longer. It was causing her to be way too anxious when Yang was around and completely second guessing everything Yang did towards her. She hadn’t really noticed it until after meeting Ilia and realizing that Yang seemed to be the only person that spiked her anxiety when she was around.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault, it was just how Blake reacted to knowledge of romantic feelings. So she was coming to the conclusion that for her own mental health and to actually try and focus on the root of her problems and not just what set off her anxiety in the here and now, she needed to talk to Yang. She preemptively felt horrible about doing this, but she needed to do it for her own mental health.
So she’d taken the first step by texting Yang and asking to talk. She arranged to meet Yang at a park, not the usual one they met at because she didn’t want to taint that place with this conversation. She showed up early and waited on a bench. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them, trying to keep herself calm. If she lost her nerve now, then she’d never say what she really needed to say. As was her usual manner of dress ever since waking up stabbed by Adam, Blake was in an over-sized t-shirt and jeans. She’d almost put a hoodie on top of it, but just left it tied around her waist in the event she felt the need to pull it on.
It wasn't as though Yang was trying to do or say anything. Nor did she actually expect anything of Blake. There was a big difference between hoping for something, and expecting something. The last thing she wanted was Blake being uncomfortable around her. But she'd fucked it up, even if it wasn't actually her fault that she'd said anything. She probably wouldn't have said anything until... well sometime in early 2019, otherwise.
She wanted that easy comradeship again. To be in the same room, to not feel guilty over something as simple as asking for a hug or being within five feet of her. (Yang was a touchy person, romantic feelings or not, but she tried so hard to be respectful of Blake's personal space.) She wanted a lot of things of course, she was only human, but she'd be happy with the above. And maybe handholding, it was crazy how much she missed handholding.
Still, she'd been consumed by anxiety for months, and Blake wanting to talk only made that anxiety worse. More than anything else Yang feared losing her. Her abandonment issues were already on a hair trigger and in the year Blake had been in the OC that fear had been in the back of her mind. Yang would honestly have preferred Blake never show up to having her show up and then leave again. At least it would have spared her all the awful parts of their dreams.
Or, god, what if she never wanted to see her again, which was objectively worse? Just that thought was enough to send her into a depressive spiral if she let it.
She sat on her bike for a few moments, taking deep, calming breaths. Then she got off her bike and approached Blake, making sure she made enough noise that Blake wouldn't be startled. (And god, would she take Blake's pain away and bear it for her so she didn’t have to be jumpy. And Ruby's. And Weiss's. And Pyrrha's (poor Pyrrha, she hoped Jaune was handling that okay). And... all of their pains.)
"...Hey."
This situation was no one’s fault, at least not as far as Blake or Yang went. Blake could squarely place the blame for her being this way down to Scientology, her abusive ex, and Adam’s abuse. Two lifetimes of abuse had taken a toll on Blake, and left her bent and broken and not liking people in her personal space unless she wanted them there. She had been making some strides, finding her own inner strength, as was evidenced by standing up to the racist asshole that had been yelling at her and Ilia.
Blake was having more good days of late, which was part of why she was conflicted about this conversation. She needed to tell Yang what she was feeling and what she needed, but she felt like a horrible bitch for it. But wasn’t that what happened when you had to do something for your own mental health, feeling like a horrible bitch to do what was best for yourself? Given that Blake never put herself before anyone else, this went completely against what she was comfortable with doing. She’d sooner tear herself apart than make her friends feel bad.
But Blake knew she couldn’t continue on the way she was if she actually wanted to work through her problems. Her anxiety was setting her back, and she needed to work on cutting it down so that she could focus on the underlying issues.
Hearing someone approach, she looked up and saw Yang. She took a slow breath, trying to keep her nerve and not fall into her bad habits.
“Hey, Yang,” she responded with a little smile.
“Hey,” Yang repeated, taking a seat next to Blake, giving her her best smile. She didn’t know what to do with her hands so she rested them in her lap.
Blake didn’t even know how to begin this conversation. She could just engage in small talk, but Blake knew if she did that, then she’d probably lose her nerve and not talk about what she needed to talk about. But how did you tell your friend that you wished you didn’t know they were in love with you? It was that one thing that kept Blake from feeling at ease around Yang. If she didn’t know, then maybe their interactions would be different.
Sometimes Blake wished she had selective amnesia where she could forget very specific things but keep the rest of her memory in tact.
“So...I’m not sure how to start this.” There was a war raging within her. Her old habits were telling her to shut up and not say anything. The new habits she was developing were telling her she needed to talk before she further damaged herself.
"Try at the beginning," Yang encouraged. Maybe she didn't fully understand what Blake was going through, but her own experiences told her that it was better to talk about it. Even if it hurt. Maybe especially if it hurt.
And Blake clearly needed to talk.
“Okay…” Blake took a steadying breath. She needed to keep her nerve in this and resist her bad habits of staying silent. “I’ve been trying to ignore the fact that I know how you feel about me because in my state of mind, I can’t actually handle anyone having feelings for me like a normal person. I tried to not let it get in the way of me trying to live and deal with all of the trauma I’ve been through. But lately, I’ve been realizing it’s hindering me pretty badly. My anxiety is through the roof when I’m around you because I’m trying so hard to not fall into bad habits, to doing what I was programmed to do for so many years. And I...can’t actually take it anymore because it’s holding me back from actually dealing with the root of my problems.”
She paused for breath. “And it’s not your fault, I’m definitely not blaming you at all. I’m just trying to be open about how I feel and the fact that I’m really not okay and I can’t handle someone loving me right now.”
Despite her best efforts, part of Yang latched onto that ‘right now’ at least a little bit. That whole hope thing, though it was obvious that hope wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. If ever.
So ignoring that let Yang focus on the rest of what Blake was saying, and she was glad they weren’t facing each other. It made it easier to disguise the expression on her face - she didn’t want to guilt Blake into anything, trip that programming. As it was, she felt awful that she’d been the cause of so much anxiety. And she was pissed. Not at Blake, but at her Ex and Adam and Scientology, all the things that had hurt Blake.
“It’s okay,” Yang said, staring at a pigeon. “You should be open with how you feel, and comfortable with talking to me about it. The last thing I want is for you to feel like you owe me something, or to feel like you can’t talk to me. I want to be comfy with you again. Not that you need my permission or anything but…” She sighed, “You know what I mean.”
Her arm ached, the missing one, and she focused on that too, rubbing the metal with her other hand. She’d developed a lot of ways to handle her emotions and she was using every one of them right now. She knew she wore her feelings on her sleeve, that she felt too much and too strongly. “So.. I’m sorry. For that, and for any other time I might have hurt you and not realized it.”
Yang was sure there were other times. Accidents, saying the wrong thing, trying to treat Blake like she would anyone else and forgetting something that might trigger her. “So that stuff? It’s on me, not on you.”
But how did one just stop loving someone? It was like asking her to not love Ruby, even if that was a different kind of love. There were lots of kinds of love; Yang had never asked to love Blake the way she did, it had just happened and there were a lot of shed tears late at night when she was alone over it. Though her dreamself had shed plenty of tears over Blake too.
“I’d take your hurts for you if I could.” Yang added softly, “I’d do the same for Ruby. Or Weiss. Or Ilia. Jaune or Pyrrha. Any of you.”
That hope definitely wouldn’t be going anywhere. Even if she managed to move past some of her anxiety issues, a traditional relationship was very much out of the question. Blake didn’t function like that, though she never gave it any thought. Though why would she? She’d been programmed to think and act a certain way, and anything outside of heterosexuality was not something she’d ever thought about. She was fine with other people’s sexuality, that never bothered her. She’d just never tried to figure out where she was on the scale because she didn’t fit into the tiny box she’d been forced to live in for her entire life.
“It’s going to take time. Probably a lot of it, it’s hard to tell. The traumas I’ve been through have broken me in ways I’m still learning about. But I’m working on it. I just know that it will take years to be relatively okay, and even then I know I’ll be carrying all of this with me for the rest of my life. Some wounds can never be fully healed no matter how much time passes.”
Blake was definitely glad they weren’t facing each other as well because she couldn’t look at Yang right now. She felt like if she did, she would definitely lose her nerve and take back everything she’d already said. She stared at the ground.
“I know you would, but they are my pains to work through. And I just...really wish it didn’t come to this, but I think I need distance. I know it’s not fair, and I’m sorry, but I just...to deal with the root of my problems and to try to actually get better and not take one step forward and five steps back, I think distance is the only answer. Distance from you, at least until I can have a better grasp on my anxiety and my many triggers. So I am also stepping back from being part of the team. You all need a teammate who can be reliable, and that’s not me right now.”
She clenched her fists in her lap, her fingernails digging into her palms. This wasn’t easy, and she was definitely fighting off the anxiety that was rising because standing up for herself, saying how she really felt when she knew it would hurt someone she cared about went against everything she’d been conditioned to think. It was highly uncomfortable, and her heart was pounding in her chest.
How much time, Yang wondered. How much more could she stand to have her family broken. Beyond being in love with Blake, she was family. But Yang was causing her so much pain. If not being there would help her heal, then there was no other choice but Yang felt so nauseous all of a sudden. It was exactly what she'd been afraid of.
What was wrong with her? Why wasn't she enough?
She needed Blake (romantically, platonically, it didn't really matter in the end), she couldn't lie to herself about that, but she couldn't tell Blake that either. Under normal circumstances that could be a conversation they could have. But not now. Not knowing that that would set Blake back again.
Why wasn't she enough? But that was a selfish question.
I don't want a teammate. I want a friend.
She bit her tongue hard enough she tasted blood, which only made the queasiness worse, but it was better than saying that out loud. The thought that anything she said right now could be unintentionally manipulative made her want to scream.
It wasn't fair. But Yang kept herself composed. Relatively speaking, and tried to find the right words. And to say them with as little of the emotions she was feeling as possible.
"If... if that's what you need, I'll support you." After all, that's what unconditional love was supposed to be right? Like ripping out her heart. "At, you know, a distance."
If Blake could’ve worked through everything without having to pull away from Yang? She definitely would’ve done it. But in the time that had passed since Yang had told her how she’d felt, more often than not Blake wasn’t comfortable around Yang. Anxiety gripped her and bad habits threatened to undo what progress she’d been making in therapy. And she was so tired of taking a step forward then falling five steps back.
She had honestly tried to not get to this point. But in doing so, she’d only caused herself more grief, pain and anxiety. She’d done a lot of harm to herself, and Blake needed to actually put herself first for once. She didn’t like putting herself first, but she knew she had to. Otherwise she would probably end up killing herself at this rate. So it was putting her health first.
And she also needed to figure out who she was. Blake had next to nothing in common with her dream self, and she actually envied the girl she dreamt of. She had convictions, a drive to help people, all people not just the faunus. Here? Blake had nothing, no convictions to drive her. She didn’t know who she was without someone telling her what she should be.
Blake clenched her fists tight enough that her nails broke skin, causing some blood to start trickling down between her fingers. She knew Yang was probably dying, and everything in her was screaming at her to stop. Or more specifically, her ex’s voice was screaming at her for being so stupid and selfish like this, that what she needed didn’t matter and that she should just give Yang what she wanted to make her happy.
“It’s the only option I have left,” she said softly. “I tried so hard to keep it from getting to this point, but I can’t keep doing it anymore. And I know it’s so unfair, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry I even have to do this. I should’ve been stronger than this, I should’ve been able to handle it, but I can’t.”
It’s my fault. The thought echoed in her head. Maybe if she was more like her dream self, everything would’ve been fine. Maybe if she wasn’t broken, she could’ve handled it. She closed her eyes and tried to get ahold of herself before she went into a full on anxiety attack because of the intense war that was raging inside of her head.
Some of her mother's words echoed in Yang's head, but she dismissed them. Yang felt cold all over, her left hand shaking a little, so she rubbed her arm to try to hide it. That the concept of love was so poisoned for Blake would make Yang angry if she could feel any emotion but sadness right now. She thought she’d hated Adam, but somehow she hated Scientology and that ex-boyfriend more.
In that other place, or in a softer world for Blake, Yang's natural reaction would be to hug her. To offer comfort and warmth. Instead, she got to her feet to give Blake space, folding her arms to keep them to herself and stop the shaking. Yang believed everyone needed people to support them, it just broke her heart she couldn't be that for Blake. The one person she wanted to support the most.
And honestly on a selfish note, the one person she wanted to support her the most and maybe some of that hug would be for herself.
"No." She looked at Blake, eyes red and watery and just knew she was blaming herself. "No, it's not your fault. It's not... anyone's fault except the people who hurt you. You don't need to be sorry."
She took a deep breath, needing to say something, so that Blake knew. And maybe she already knew but sometimes it needed to be said. "I'm sorry. I just wish I could take back that I said anything. I knew you weren't ready, and I wouldn't have said anything if it hadn't been forced out of me. I just ... "
Unfolding her arms, she waved her right hand. "I know better than most that recovery is hard and no one comes out of it the same as they were before. You're a lot stronger than you know. There's strength in admitting when you can't handle something, just like there's strength in asking for help. And right now, this is how you're asking me to help you."
Yang swallowed, looking down at the ground and feeling like that abandoned little girl. She managed a wry smile, "I'd offer you a ride home but..."
As bad as Adam had been, her experiences in this life had been so much worse. In the dreams, she’d at least found the strength to leave Adam and his poison behind. In this life, if she hadn’t been kicked out of Scientology, she’d definitely still be there. Or she’d potentially be dead because her ex had killed her.
Perhaps Yang was right, that there was strength in admitting when you couldn’t handle something and in asking for help, but it really seriously didn’t feel like it. Not with her demons screaming at her the way they were. She dug her nails into her palms a little deeper, clenching her jaw to try and stave off the pain. She didn’t dare look up at Yang, keeping her eyes closed and trying to find some semblance of calm. She didn’t want to lose it here, not in public. She’d go back home, grab a first aid kit, and then lock herself in her room and not come out for the foreseeable future. She could lose it then, but not before.
“It’s a bad situation all around.” And really, this was probably going to happen to some degree even if it had been years down the line when Yang finally told Blake how she felt. Love, relationships and especially sex had very bad connotations to her. And even now, Blake knew she would never be even relatively okay with anything remotely sexual in nature.
“Yeah, I know,” she responded, drawing in a slow breath and letting it out just as slowly. This was by no means easy. But the rational part of her, which was steadily losing the battle to her demons, knew this was necessary. She needed to try and get better, to work through some stuff so that she could be part of the team again and be around Yang without feeling on edge the whole time. And the only reason she’d decided to pull herself off the team was because she knew how much it meant to Yang, and she needed that, even if it would only be RWY for the foreseeable future.
But Blake had her own battles to fight, and they were battles that only she herself could fight. And maybe she could prove to herself that she was stronger than she thought she was. But right now? She just wanted to curl up in a corner and pretend the world didn’t exist.
Curling up in a corner actually sounded really good right now. Yang wanted to cry, maybe find some place to scream it all out. The fact she'd managed to hold it all in this far was pretty impressive.
"Blake?" Yang asked, her voice catching on the name. "I don't hate you. I'm not mad at you."
It didn't mean she wasn't angry, or would be angry and upset, but it wasn't directed at Blake. Even when Blake had run away after Adam, she had gotten over the anger. There'd reached a point when she'd had to fake the anger just to make herself feel better.
The disappointment and sadness hadn't been so easy to shake, and that was going to be the same after this. She turned around to head to her bike as she lost the fight against her tears.
"So don't worry about me."
Even if Yang wasn’t mad at her or didn’t hate her, it didn’t mean that Ruby and Weiss would follow suit. Not that she talked to Weiss at all outside of team things, and she generally felt that Weiss wouldn’t care. But Ruby? She didn’t know how Ruby couldn’t be upset when Blake had just gone and not only hurt Yang but pulled herself off of the team. The reading picnics would clearly not be a thing anymore.
But before any of that happened, Blake needed to get back to Logan’s so she could lock herself in her room and not come out. If she had her way, she wouldn’t come out for a good long time, but chances were that Ilia would have something to say about that. Her anxiety was starting to get the better of her, but she managed to wait until Yang was gone before she stood up and headed back to Logan’s as quickly as possible. She didn’t unclench her fists, partly to try and not draw attention to the blood trickling through her fingers and partly to try and stave off the anxiety attack long enough to get home.