Chapter Text
Ruby steps out of her car at the scene of the previous night's murder, quickly walking up the garden path toward a police officer stationed at the front door.
She flashes him her badge as she approaches, and he gives her a friendly nod.
"Hey, uh, just so you know, Rose. It's pretty brutal in there." The officer says, putting an arm in front of Ruby and stopping her as she's about to move past him. "You might want to-"
"Noted." Ruby interrupts him, feeling a scowl beginning to creep at the corners of her lips. I can take it from here, officer. Thank you for your work." She replies curtly.
The man opens his mouth to let out some kind of protest or retort, but upon noticing her stony expression wisely decides to shut it and start heading over to his car. Just as he's about to enter his car, he stops and calls after her. "Oh, and Belladonna is already inside inv-."
She promptly steps through the door, ignoring him.
Ruby walks down the front hall and into the kitchen, passing through on her way over to the livingroom where the crime scene is.
Just as she's entering the livingroom, she's suddenly blinded by a flashlight being pointed right in her eyes.
Almost immediately, the light is turned away from her, a familiar deep voice already uttering out a hasty apology. "Sorry, I didn't realize it was you, Ruby." Blake, her fellow detective, apologizes with a sheepish smile. Ruby just barely catches sight of their gun before it's pocketed so swiftly that anyone short of being extremely perceptive would have missed the motion entirely.
She raises an eyebrow at that, and Blake folds their arms over their chest. "I'm antsy, alright?" They protest. "Cases like this give me the creeps."
Nodding absent-mindedly, Ruby walks over to a bloodstained corduroy chair in the center of the room. Sitting in the chair is the body of a man, pinned to the back of the seat by a multitude of kitchen knives stabbed through his torso.
"As you can clearly see here, our victim was stabbed with eleven different knives by his killer." Blake comments as they step up beside her. "We've checked, all were taken from his own kitchen."
Kneeling down to more closely inspect the victim's body, Ruby frowns thoughtfully. "The locations of these knives..." She murmurs, tracking the positions of various wounds across his torso. "They're not random." She finishes slowly, standing to her feet once more.
Blake stands next to her, brow furrowed in concentration as they take in the scene. "You're right." They muse aloud. "These placements definitely look calculated. What do you make of it?"
"Well, I don't know how good your anatomy is, but..." Ruby trails off, glancing back to the body. "All of these knives are stuck in places that wouldn't have been immediately fatal. Our killer must've been trying to draw out the victim's suffering."
Blake frowns, their eyes widening slightly as they turn to look at her. "So we're working with a sadist who knows a thing or two about his anatomy? How lovely." They reply, running a hand through their hair and sighing. "I can only hope we catch this killer soon, he's starting to become a real pain in my ass."
"Or she." Ruby adds, and Blake gives her a odd look. "Our killer here might not even be a man." She continues. "We're not sure yet, remember?"
Blake lets out an amused snort and gives her a small smile. "Now's not the time for feminism, Ruby. Vast majority of serial killers are men, it's just the facts."
"I suppose you're right." She mutters, inspecting the bloodstained carpet around the chair for another moment before standing back to her feet.
The two detectives exit the house some time later, the sun having finally risen enough to make the morning chill at least a little less battering.
Blake pulls their jacket tightly around their lean frame and shivers, breath coming out in a plume of steam.
"Still not good with the cold yet, huh?" Ruby asks with a soft laugh. "It's only been what, three years since you moved to Vale?"
"Shut up. I never had snow as a kid." They grumble, before muttering. "I hate snow..."
She rolls her eyes. "I thought I told you to pick up a thicker coat."
"This is the thicker coat." Blake huffs as they unlock the door to their car. As they're getting inside, they lean their head back out and ask. "I've got a couple people I need to go talk with first, but... see you back at the station in an hour?"
Ruby smiles and waves, heading over to her own car as they pull away.
Blake steps into Ruby's office holding a cup of coffee and a brown paper bag in their hands.
At the sound of the door opening, Ruby looks up from the swamp of papers and files surrounding her, gratefully murmuring out a "Thank you." as they pass her the warm beverage.
Blake unbuttons their jacket and drapes it over the back of a chair before sitting down and tossing the bag in Ruby's direction, which she quickly catches in one hand.
Ruby eagerly begins rifling through the contents of the paper bag, looking back up at Blake and frowning as she pulls out a bagel.
"What?" They pause right in the middle of drinking their coffee, pulling their hand back to keep the drink hovering inches from their lips. "Did I get you the wrong kind or something? 'Cause I can go back and get you another one if you need."
"Why didn't you get any food for yourself, Blake?" Ruby asks, placing the bagel on the desk in front of herself before fixing them with a stern stare. Her interrogation stare.
Blake shrugs casually and takes a sip of coffee, completely unfazed by her demeanor. "Don't particularly feel like eating at the moment."
"You really should eat more." She replies, and they just respond by rolling their eyes.
"And now you're starting to sound like my mother. I'm fine, Ruby. Don't worry about me." Blake replies, dismissing her worries with a lazy wave of their hand.
Ruby lets out a huff, muttering something about them being a jackass and returning to her stack of files.
"Hey," Blake begins with a wide grin. "When I was younger I would've told you to bite me, so this is progress."
She snorts. "Younger you was an even bigger jackass then."
Blake scoffs and makes an expression of mock offense. "You wound me greatly!" They gasp, clutching a hand to their heart and pretending to faint.
An expression of amusement spreads across Ruby's face. "I'm just being honest here, Blake."
They laugh and lean back in their seat, pointing to the files on her desk with their free hand. "Alright, enough chatter. Case time."
"Right, right." She nods, picking up the paper on top of the stack and reading it over. "So, our most recent victim. Did he have any friends or family we can talk to?"
"Mmm, well, a wife and kid." Blake replies, sipping their coffee with a thoughtful expression. "Or, rather, ex-wife, I suppose. Two of 'em split a couple months back and she got full custody of the kid. Apparently he was pretty ticked off about that."
"Yeah? Been doing some digging already, have you? How productive."
Blake snorts. "That's who I went to go see earlier, Ruby. Wife was a little bit shaken, but overall didn't seem too broken up about the whole dead husband situation."
"Dead ex-husband." Ruby clarifies with a smirk, before responding. "How about the kid?"
"Well, for a thirteen year-old, the kid was surprisingly apathetic about her dad's death. I got the impression that neither of them cared all too much about what happened."
Ruby frowns and leans forward in her seat, bringing her hands together beneath her chin. "Think we should consider them suspects?"
They quickly shake their head. "From what I gathered, those feelings are more on the account of him being abusive. I don't think we need to be worrying about them. But, if you want to be entirely sure, I can add them to the list and do some further background checks later."
She shakes her head. "No, I think we're good for now."
Ruby picks up her bagel, ripping a chunk out with her teeth and taking a quick drink of coffee to wash it down. "God I hate that stuff. Cases where abuse is involved, y'know?"
"I'd be concerned if you enjoyed them." Blake returns with a yawn, slowly stretching their arms above their head and blinking tiredly.
Ruby nods in agreement and takes another bite from her bagel, turning her attention back to Blake not even a moment later to see her fellow detective emptying the entire contents of a flask into their cup of coffee.
Blake falters at the unimpressed expression on her face and crosses their arms, scowling. "What?"
"This early in the morning?" Ruby asks incredulously. "Blake, it's barely even nine, this may be a new record for you." She adds with a teasing smile.
"Oh shut up." Blake grumbles, taking a long drink from their coffee. "I was up all last night, alright?"
"Again?"
"Yes, again. I've not been sleeping well lately." They say with a heavy sigh.
"So how many nights in a row has it been this time?" She questions, and they groan.
"Three, but in all honesty I'm expecting a fourth." They mutter flatly.
"Listen here, Blake. You are getting some sleep tonight even if have to break into your home and sedate you." Ruby threatens playfully.
"Oh please do." Blake replies with a cheeky grin. "And try to get some of that stuff they use to knock you out in hospitals, that stuff is the best."
That gets a chuckle out of Ruby, but her expression quickly grows somber again as she watches them take another drink. "Blake, please, let's just be serious here for a moment. You don't want to end up like my uncle in twenty years."
"Oh I know, I would absolutely hate to be your uncle." They joke, receiving an extremely exasperated sigh in response.
"Again, I'm being serious, Blake." Ruby replies, the pitch of her voice slowly beginning to raise. "You've met Qrow and you don't want to be like him."
"Yeah, yeah. I know." They grumble. "It's just- with the chronic pain and all... it's tough, alright?"
Ruby opens her mouth to speak but they quickly cut her off with a smirk. "And sapphic yearning doesn't count as pain, Ruby. I'm sorry, but you can't give me any advice here."
She laughs softly, before replying. "My sister has some pretty bad chronic pain too. She was caught in a fire and got burned pretty badly when we were kids. Maybe you could talk to her about it? Ask how she deals with it?"
"Maybe." They reply, standing to their feet. "As I said, I promise I'll try to curb it."
Blake grabs their jacket off the back of their chair, pulling it on as they make their way over to the door. Before leaving, however, they stop and look back over their shoulder at Ruby, giving her a small smile. "Hey, so... we still doing dinner at seven?"
"Of course! If anything changes in the meantime, I'll let you know." Ruby replies, raising her coffee up with an acknowledging grin.
Just as Blake is about to step through the door, though, she calls after them. "Oh, and Blake?"
They turn around and lean against the doorway, brow raised expectantly. "Yes?"
"Please don't show up late this time."
"Hey, don't worry. I promise I'll be on time, Ruby." Blake says reassuringly, giving her a thumbs up before stepping through the doorway and closing it behind them.
Ruby rolls her eyes, smiling and shaking her head fondly as she returns to her paperwork once more.
Blake ducks into a bar tucked off to the side of the main road, a bar which, while not exactly the best bar they've ever been to, is far from the worst either.
It's a smaller place, and faunus run too, so they can expect a lower likelihood of any harassment or unwarranted attention, which automatically raises the place in their books.
The owner is friendly, the staff polite, and the music that plays is mostly jazz or country, which is tolerable enough by their standards. Add in the cheap drink prices and Blake would stop by far more often if not for the fact that they've jailed too many people in this part of the city for it to be exactly safe.
Blake makes a beeline towards the bar, weaving between tables and other patrons who are too busy with their drinks to give them much notice.
They're not exactly wearing civilian clothes, but they did leave their jacket and tie in their car before entering in hopes of being less conspicuous. There's no guarantee someone won't still recognize them, though, so they've brought protection along just in case things go sour.
"Hey there!" The bartender and owner of the place greets them with a broad grin as they approach. He's an older tiger faunus, late forties maybe, with a salt and pepper beard and rapidly greying hair tied back in a low ponytail. "What can I get for you?" His tone is gentle as props himself up against the counter on one elbow.
In the handful of times that Blake's been to the bar in the past, they've gathered that the man thinks quite fondly of them, though they have yet to quite figure out what sort of affection that may be.
"I'd like a whiskey on the rocks." Blake replies coolly, pulling out a bill from their wallet and placing it flat against the bartop.
He nods, taking their money before reaching up and grabbing a bottle from the shelf behind his head. "You got it." He says, turning away to start filling a glass with ice from a container underneath the sink.
Blake leans against the bar counter and watches him work, half out of bored curiosity and half because the action seems to have a calming effect on their nerves.
"So," The older man begins, setting down the glass of whiskey in front of Blake. "What brings you here at this time of day?" He asks, passing it over to Blake before leaning forward, resting his elbows against the polished wood.
Blake takes the glass and swirls the dark liquid absentmindedly, watching the ice float around inside. "I'm here to see someone, actually." They murmur, keeping their gaze focused on the contents of the glass rather than looking up.
They bring the drink to their lips and take a small sip to test its temperature, finding the whiskey pleasantly cool. Satisfied with that, they lower the glass back down again.
Eyes scanning their surroundings, Blake finally catches sight of a familiar mop of shaggy blonde curls over by a pool table. "I think I just found him." They say with a smile, pushing away from the bar. "Thanks for the drink."
There's a smile and a wave as Blake walks away, heading across the bar over towards the game of pool.
Sun is hunched over the table, face scrunched into an expression of concentration as he lines up his cue with a ball. He sinks the shot and lets out a quiet but enthusiastic whoop, pumping his fist in the air as his opponent scowls.
Blake can't help but roll their eyes good naturedly. "Good aim, Sun." They compliment, sliding onto a stool next to him.
Sun jolts upright in surprise, almost sending his cue flying through the air. When he turns his gaze to Blake, his eyebrows lift almost comically high. "Whoa, hey Blake!" He exclaims, setting the cue aside on a nearby table. "How's life treating you?"
Blake leans back and shrugs. "I'm alright. Life's been treating me better than usual lately." They reply with a wry smile.
Sun snorts and picks up his cue again, lining up another shot. "From what I know of your past, that's not exactly a high bar to beat, Blake." He tells them matter of factly before taking aim and sinking the shot in one smooth motion. "Have you, uh, talked to-"
"Oi!" The man Sun's playing calls over to the two of them, interrupting their conversation with a glare. "Stop distractin' him!"
Sun rolls his eyes. "This guy just wants me to finish showing off, don't mind him." He whispers, jabbing his thumb over in the man's direction before returning his focus to the game. He takes one final shot and ends the game with a flourish, setting his cue down once again, picking up his drink, and smiling smugly at his opponent.
The man walks over and stuffs a handful of crumpled bills into Sun's palm, muttering something unintelligible before angrily stomping off.
Sun chuckles, shoving the cash into his pocket and slumping back down onto the stool he'd been sitting on. "You wanna play?" He offers, gesturing to the table.
Blake considers it for a moment before nodding. "Sure," They agree, standing up and grabbing a cue. "But I'm not betting any more than a five."
"Alright." Sun agrees easily. "I can play a low game."
"Low game for the professional gambler, maybe." Blake quips dryly, picking up and draining the rest of their whiskey.
As expected, Blake loses spectacularly, not even winning a single one of the four games the two the them play.
They count themself lucky that they're not much of a gambler, and that the only thing they manage to lose in those games is their pride. Well, that and five bucks.
After a while, the two of them head outside for a breath of fresh air, Sun leaning back against the alley wall and lighting up a cigarette. He passes Blake the lighter with a nod and they accept it, pulling out a cigarette of their own and propping themself against the wall opposite him.
Sun inhales deeply and lets out a contented sigh, leaning his head back against the brick. "I take it this wasn't just intended to be a friendly visit, was it?" He asks after a brief silence.
"No." Blake replies truthfully, taking a drag from their cigarette. "I'm here for... information."
Sun hums quietly, eyes closing as he exhales a cloud of smoke. "Oh? And why would a detective like you come to a scoundrel like me for information?"
"For the same reason people usually come to you." They answer honestly.
"And what, pray tell, is that?" He questions, raising an eyebrow.
"Because you have connections, lots of them. You probably could dig up some dirt on me faster than I could dig up anything on you." Blake points out.
Sun smirks, rolling the cigarette between his fingertips. "True," He agrees. "What exactly do you want to know, detective?"
"The White Fang."
Sun pauses, smirk quickly fading. "What about them?" He asks, voice suddenly hushed and laced with caution.
"Everything you know about their current status, and anything to possibly do with Vale."
"Why would Vale be relevant?"
"Because," Blake begins with a scowl. "If any ex White Fang members are still alive, they might come after me due to... personal reasons, which would put everyone I know in danger."
"That doesn't seem to be a concern of mine." Sun counters, shaking his head slowly.
"It puts you in danger just for knowing me." They argue back, eyes narrowing with irritation.
The other Faunus shrugs and leans back, tapping ash from his cigarette with a finger. "I'll keep it in mind," He says after a short pause. "But I can defend myself just fine, Blake."
"I don't doubt that." Blake replies, crossing their arms. "But this is a threat to every single person I know. Please, Sun."
He hesitates for a long moment before sighing and snubbing out his cigarette. "Fine, but for this kind of info you're going to need the right kind of payment."
Blake raises an eyebrow. "What kind of payment?" They ask warily.
Sun grins, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Well, I suppose that depends on how badly you need this info then, doesn't it?"
They frown. "You do realize I have money, right? That's why I came to you. I can pay pretty damn well, Sun."
"I don't want money, Blake." Sun replies, suddenly leaning forward and grabbing their right wrist. It's a sudden movement that causes them to flinch violently and try to pull their hand away.
"What are you doing?" Blake whispers harshly, pupils blown wide as a look of indescribable fury flashes in their eyes. Blake's cigarette falls to the ground, and in an instant, there's a switchblade at Sun's throat, cold metal pressing into his skin hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.
Sun goes very still. The knife digs deeper, and a bead of crimson trickles down his neck, his breathing quickening considerably. He swallows thickly, eyes darting back and forth between the blade threatening his throat and Blake's narrowed eyes.
"Let. Go." They growl lowly, hand shaking from just how tightly they're gripping the hilt of the knife.
Sun's quickly releases their arm, his eyes wide with fear as he scrambles away from the knife. "Hey, hey! Chill out man! The hell did you think I was trying to do?!" He protests, holding up his hands in defense.
Blake stares at him blankly for a moment before wiping the knife on their pant leg and slipping it back into their pocket, the tension in their body slowly seeping away as Sun lowers his hands.
Their expression softens slightly, still wary but not quite as intense as it had been a moment before. "Never grab me like that again!" They spit out with barely suppressed anger, chest heaving as if they'd just ran a marathon.
"Sorry, I shouldn't-" Sun begins, but stops when they shake their head.
"It's alright. You startled me is all." Blake sighs softly. "I thought... well, it doesn't really matter what I thought." They mutter quietly, looking anywhere but at him.
Sun watches Blake for a moment before reaching up and wiping the trickle of blood from his neck with his thumb, wincing. "Are you sure? 'Cause you know I won't hurt ya, right? Friends don't hurt each other." He reminds gently.
"Yeah. Yeah, I am." They reply without much conviction, their voice wavering just the slightest amount. Blake rubs their wrist where he'd grabbed them, staring down at their arm with an expression of confusion. They turn back to Sun, raising an eyebrow as he lazily spins a gold watch around his index finger, their eyes following its movements.
"You've gotten better at that." They comment coolly.
Sun shrugs, a mischievous smile stretching across his face. "Eh, not really. You were just too preoccupied with trying to stab me to notice."
Blake scoffs, rolling their eyes. "Alright, now give that back." They demand, holding a hand out towards him.
"Nah."
"Sun."
"Nope, I'm keeping this." He insists, placing the watch around his own wrist. "I'll take it as part of my payment."
Blake narrows their eyes in annoyance. "Is that what want for your payment, then? A piece of jewelry?"
"Not exactly." Sun says with a laugh. "I'd also like some... information of a personal nature. Let's see this as a trade of knowledge, hmm?"
"What kind of personal nature? Like blackmail material?"
He shrugs, smiling sheepishly. "Well, I wouldn't call it blackmail, exactly. More of a... safety measure in case you ever decide to rat me out."
Sun grins crookedly at Blake and pulls out a small leather bound journal from a pocket in his shirt. Opening it carefully, he flips through a few pages before handing the book to Blake.
They take the book and look over the open page curiously. There, written in neat block print at the top of the page, is a name.
Blake reads the name aloud, brow furrowing slightly. "Blake Belladonna?" They ask, glancing up at Sun.
"Yup." He answers simply. "I want you to give me a piece of information about yourself, something juicy, something... secret. No strings attached, just give me the information and I'll tell you everything you need to know."
"You trade in secrets?" Blake inquires skeptically, and he grins.
"Mmhmm. So what do you say, Blake Belladonna? Will you give me a secret?"
Blake pauses, staring hesitantly at Sun for a moment and weighing whether or not to trust him. "Alright." They mutter eventually, reaching out a hand towards him. "Pen?"
Sun smiles triumphantly, pulling a pen out of his jacket pocket and handing it over to them.
Glancing at the journal again, Blake uncaps the pen with a sigh and begins writing. Sun waits patiently as they write, his gaze lingering on them with a look of curious interest.
Finally, Blake finishes with a nod, wordlessly handing the pen and journal back to Sun. He takes both items with a grateful smile, stowing the pen and beginning to read over the words scribbled onto the page.
Sun blinks as what they've written slowly sinks into his brain. After a moment, he looks up at Blake with an expression of suprise.
"Y'know, most people just write about how they cheated on their spouse or other boring shit like that." Sun admits, tucking the journal back into his pocket. "Not what I expected." He adds, giving Blake a once over. "You really...?"
Blake nods stiffly. "Yes, Sun. Now drop it." They snap, tone bordering on aggressive.
"Alright, alright." Sun replies with an amused smile. "So, what would you like to know?"
Blake steps into their apartment, grumbling to themself as they hang their jacket on a hook by the door. The place is completely dark, and they thank their faunus genetics for giving them night vision as they navigate through the living room towards the kitchen.
They flick on a light and glance to the clock above the stove. It's just after five, and they're already feeling so incredibly exhausted.
Sun's information was frustrating and concerning, and did little to alleviate the constant anxiety that's been gnawing away at their insides for weeks now.
Blake sighs and slumps into a chair by the small kitchen table. Their fingers drum impatiently against the tabletop, mindlessly moving as the familiar buzzing in their ears takes over. They don't want to think about how much they need to sleep right now.
The buzzing grows louder, transforming into a shrill whine that makes Blake cringe and cover their ears. They grit their teeth and squeeze their eyes shut, focusing all of their attention on ignoring the sound.
They direct their thoughts back to what Sun had told them, and his information regarding The White Fang: The group was back together again after their disbandment several years ago, and they were holding secret meetings and rallies across Vale.
The single most concerning piece of information he had provided was that Roman Torchwick, notorious crime boss and criminal mastermind, was also in Vale and currently working in collaboration with The White Fang.
Blake scowls, feeling their temple throb as the sound in their ears intensifies, roaring like an approaching freight train.
It doesn't make any sense why Roman would be anywhere near The White Fang in the first place, let alone working with the group. From their brief past interactions with the man Blake had gathered more than enough information to conclude that the he was a raging bigot, driven solely by selfish interests rather than any kind of legitimate ideologies.
This collaboration would certainly explain the recent spike in criminal activity and violent crime across the city, but it still raises some very important questions that Blake knows they will have to address later when they have a few more hours of sleep.
For now, they simply close their eyes, resting their head against the surface of the table and trying to ignore the sounds echoing painfully in their skull.
Blake opens their eyes slowly, blinking blearily at the brightness of the kitchen lights. A soft groan escapes their lips, and they hazily wonder what had woken them from their nap.
As if to answer the question, there's suddenly a loud knocking at their front door. A groan of irritation escapes Blake's throat, and they push themself out of their chair onto unsteady feet.
"Coming." They call gruffly, stumbling and cursing under their breath as a sharp pain shoots through their left leg. Limping towards the front entrance, Blake twists the handle and throws the door open, blinking rapidly as they take in the sight before them.
A small, pale woman with long white hair stands in the hall before them, arms crossed impatiently in front of her chest. She wears a white peacoat with a dark blue scarf draped over her shoulders.
Blake stares at her in shock for a moment, mouth hanging slightly agape. "Weiss?"
She tilts her head slightly, arching a thin brow at them and smiling softly. "Hello, Blake. It's been a while."