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It had been difficult, but not impossible, to collect supplies for Mantle. Atlas Academy was in a frenzy after the election. The night before their mission, Blake and Yang offered to help clear the mess hall. With so many students aiding officers in Mantle, they'd left behind a surplus of untouched ready-made meals. As always, any sets that expired within two weeks were marked for disposal. Of course, having been sealed so tightly, they could easily last much longer.
The pair assured staff they could handle it from here. A well-timed smile from Yang, a promise to lock up on time, and the keys were in her hands. Under cover of night, Blake unlocked their assigned dummy truck. The containers were empty, only meant to appear full when scanned from a distance. Together, they tucked away as many boxes of rations as possible.
The next day, as they’d hoped, Robyn hit their truck.
Even with weapons pointed at them, they kept their hands up.
Robyn’s eyes narrowed. “What is this?”
“There isn’t much time,” Yang said. “We’ve filled every box in here with rations. They’ll expect the truck to be gone. Make sure you take it.”
Robyn’s eyes sought her fellow huntresses. While she lowered her crossbow, the others kept their weapons ready. She reached toward Blake and Yang, saying sternly, “One of you take my hand.”
“Why?” asked Yang.
“You come here in an armored truck from Atlas and expect us to believe your surrender is genuine? Take it, or we’re gone.”
Blake hopped down from the truck and gripped Robyn’s hand. Lavender light rippled over their forearms, the hue similar to Blake’s aura.
“You said there’s food in the truck. What’s wrong with it?” Robyn asked.
“Nothing. It's all sealed. We made sure of that.”
The light shifted to green, then back to lavender. Blake and Yang watched in awe. Robyn’s eyes widened.
“You’re telling the truth.” The line between Robyn's brows smoothed out, and she searched Blake’s face. “Why are you doing this?”
“We want to help Mantle. For now, this is the best we can do.”
The light pulsed green again.
“One more. Does Ironwood know you did this?”
“No. He’s busy building a new communications tower. We snuck the food out last night.”
The light turned green, verifying each answer as truth.
Robyn pulled her hand away. “Thank you both. I mean that.”
“Of course,” said Yang. “It’s the least we could do.”
They expected to have to help unload the rations, but Fiona’s semblance took care of it. But as the truck disappeared, they heard the chirp of a sentry drone and the click as it armed itself.
“Robyn Hill. By order of-”
The huntress in question fired at the drone. It fired back. A large rubber bullet sliced through the air. Yang blasted her way into its path, intending to store its impact. But when pain seared through her aura, she knew something was terribly wrong. She crumpled to the ground, Blake’s hands the only thing saving her head from hitting jagged pavement.
“Yang?! Can you hear me?”
Barely, over her labored breathing. Each inhale was a struggle, exhaled before it could give her any relief.
May and Joanna stomped the drone into pieces. Robyn turned to Fiona.
“Get Fisticuffs to the safehouse. We’ll meet up later.”
Blake hefted Yang onto her shoulder right before Yang's world went dark.
Morning light spilled out between thick curtains. Yang shielded her face with the palm of her hand. A gasp by her elbow got her to turn and see Blake sitting at the bedside. Blake’s eyes were pink around the rim, dark circles under the bottom lids, and her shoulders held a tense line.
Piercing through the relief of seeing Blake, “I’m sorry” forced its way past Yang’s lips before she could stop it. She’d ruined the mission and worried her partner. It wasn't fair to Blake, and it’d make sense if she was disappointed in her.
“Don’t be. I’m glad we got you out in time.” Blake’s ears wilted against her hair. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if we hadn’t.”
It happened so fast that Yang hadn't had time to face the alternative. She reached for Blake’s hand.
“They’d need way more than one bullet to take me out.”
Blake chuckled, short and dry. “You’re right.”
Yang took the swell of silence to get her bearings. She was on the largest bed she’d ever seen, the covers and mattress far more comfortable than the Atlas Academy dorms. Maps of the kingdom were pinned to the far wall above a cluttered desk. To her right was a sizable kitchen. She figured there were other rooms, but this was as much as she could see from the bed.
“Where are we?”
“The Happy Huntresses have a safehouse in Mantle. They wouldn’t let me see how we got here.”
“We were here all night?”
“Yeah. May said you’d need to stay for another night. Your aura should repair itself by tomorrow and we can make our way back to campus.”
“Did you get some sleep?”
“A little.”
Yang opened her mouth to insist Blake at least take a nap, but Blake scooted her chair closer to the bed, cutting into the silence first.
“We need to check the wound. I held off because it would wake you, but you’re up now.” Her hands hovered over the zipper to Yang’s jumpsuit. “I’ll be careful, but let me know what hurts.”
Yang nodded, stilling her breath in preparation.
“Promise me,” Blake said, both firm and loving in her demand. “Don’t just grit your teeth and bear it.”
Yang unclenched her teeth. “I’ll tell you.”
Blake pulled the zipper down and rolled up the hem of Yang’s shirt. Now exposed to the air without the shield of her aura, Yang’s aching abdomen was colder than the rest of her body.
“How is it? I can’t see.”
“It’s very bruised, but nothing broke the skin.” Amber eyes met Yang’s. “I need to check for an internal break. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Light as a feather, Blake pressed a thumb against Yang’s stomach. She swiped it from one side to the other, lending Yang a bit of her warmth. When Yang let out a pained hiss, Blake snatched her hand away. Yang almost wished she hadn’t made a sound, but remembered her promise.
Blake sat back and put Yang’s clothes in order. “Sorry. That was a lower rib. It should reattach in the morning. Now we know how much you shouldn’t move before then.”
Yang snapped her fingers. “So I’m not getting my jumping jacks in today.”
Blake's laugh was lighter this time. Yang got to join in for a moment before the ache sharpened. Blake reached out again, yet was unsure where to put her hands.
“No, no. I’m okay,” Yang said.
“Are you sure?”
“Well. Could I get some water?”
“Whatever you need.”
Blake leaned down and pressed a kiss to Yang’s forehead. A simmering heat traveled down her face and pooled under her cheeks. She blinked up at her, feeling more vulnerable than she did taking a direct hit to the solar plexus.
“Do you think you can eat?” Blake asked, stroking Yang's hair.
Yang divided her mind equally between enjoying the gesture and coming up with an answer. “I wanna try.”
She watched her open drawers and stand on tiptoes to reach cabinets. Blake had sat with her the entire night, was poking around the kitchen for breakfast, and something uncoiled in Yang’s heart. Yang sank into the sheets, her body finally accepting Blake wouldn’t leave because she got hurt. She’d stay and help her. Yang knew that—had known that—because they’d said as much to each other, but her reflexes didn’t always cooperate.
When Blake returned, Yang’s grin shone like sun through the curtains.
“What?” Blake didn’t temper her amusement.
“I’m just glad you’re here,” Yang admitted.
Blake held her breath, almost startled, and Yang feared she’d said the wrong thing. But when those amber eyes softened, her chest nearly caved in with the intensity of her heartbeat.
“I’ll always be with you, Yang.”
Blake pulled up her chair, uncapped a water bottle, and set it on the nightstand. She slid her left arm under Yang’s head and shoulders for support, then somewhat awkwardly reached over again with her other arm for the water.
Yang tried to take slow sips, and Blake helped by tilting the bottle. The frigid night air had left her lips chapped and throat dry. The last thing she wanted to do was spill it all in her eagerness. Once the bottle was empty, Blake pulled out the snack she’d found. The wrapper promised a day’s worth of protein in a single bar. With both hands occupied, Blake tore half the plastic away with her teeth.
Yang cleared her throat, struggling to focus after that visual, and bit each section as it was presented to her.
“Good,” Blake said. “There’s not much here, but I’ll find more for you later. Anything else?”
Yang tugged on Blake’s unzipped sleeve. “Come here. You need to sleep too.”
“I’m fine.”
The unyielding beam of her shoulders said otherwise.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what your all-nighters look like.” Yang tugged again. “Get in here.”
Gingerly, Blake freed her arm and curled up on the other side of the bed. Ten feet was an absurd distance to have between them, so Yang pat the covers next to her. Blake rolled closer, only stopping when she met Yang’s shoulder.
Since turning would disturb her rib, Yang wrapped her left arm around Blake and guided her toward the crook of her neck. In a matter of seconds, Blake sigh became a light snore. Yang watched her ears twitch in her sleep and pressed a kiss to the soft velvet.