RWBY: Ebbing Darkness - Blake x MaleReader x Yang

Part 7

A constant beep and mechanical hum filled Y/N's ears. He felt air fill his lungs with each whir followed by the annoying beep.
He writhed in bed, uncomfortable. It only took a moment to acknowledge the cold air pumped into his chest and the tube lodged down his throat.
Suddenly, like distant thunder, the ground shook and a presence entered his blurred vision.
"Be still." Commanded the voice. It boomed with power and authority, but at the end of his order came a subtle gentleness.
Y/N stilled himself and focused his eyes. A blinding light faded and gleamed across a golden mane and striking gray eyes.
"The doctors here say you won't live past midnight..." The voice sounded sad as a sigh followed shortly after. "I suppose I'm to blame."
What were these words this man strung together? Y/N could comprehend them but he didn't know what they meant. Why was he sad? And why is it he didn't want him to be?
"You weren't meant to be, boy." He stated regrettably. "But... you're still my son."
He dropped to one knee and still towered over Y/N. He peered down, making his flowing mane cascade down until it almost touched Y/N's face.
"And I'll be damned if I abandon you now."

"Nine months is the standard gestation period." The man said. "You were born at four. A fraction of what you were supposed to be."
He spoke, telling him who he was, where he was from, and the current situation. He talked and talked, aware that his son couldn't understand him but also knowing that he eventually would. It was a good distraction as the clock ticked closer to midnight.
"You're... imperfect. And I was a fool to think otherwise."
He took a deep breath, the sound of which was like rushing winds. He reached down, adjusting a wrinkle underneath Y/N's head. His hand may as well have been a mountain compared to Y/N.
"Keep your eyes open, boy." The Lion commanded and Y/N listened. He fought the darkness laying claim to his eyes with great effort, but the stern voice and determination glowed off him as a flame on a candle.
"You hadn't come this far to die now."

The Lion told his son of one of the bloodiest battles known to man. A battle so great it spread across the known universe, nearly decimating his brothers in the process.
It was what The Lion was best known for. If ever there was a threat that needed to be gone, he and his legion, The Dark Angels, would crush it. They would burn worlds, ground their enemies to dust, and do it all again the very next day.
They were a ruthless force, a measure so great that anyone else paled in comparison.
The glory and honor left an impression on Y/N's heart and mind. He listened intently, marking each word until the day he would understand them.
The Lion raised his head to a clock just out of view. He sighed as the hand struck past midnight, but his presence never wavered or lightened at the revelation. He knew better than to get his hopes up. To him it only meant his son would fade any minute now.
"You're strong." He stated with a curt nod. "Even at death's door, you fight."

Death hadn't come that night. Another day passed and The Lion found himself at his son's side, talking, thinking, and pondering what was ahead.
"They're adamant that you don't have long to live." He stated, looking down at his son. His eyes glossed over his small, dark form. The odds of survival were slim, and the unnatural organs beating within him made it almost impossible.
Even then he talked. He spoke to Y/N as if he would live on to be a boy, a promising young man, and then an accomplished warrior.
Unknown to him he filled his son's head with promises that could not be kept. The glory to be earned would be out of reach and a dream to poison every living moment.
"Would you like to hear another story?" He asked and hummed. His son's eyes focused and he took it as affirmation.

His son was imperfect, weak in comparison to his brothers. He told him of great battles and crusades to stretch across the stars. A mission to retake what was rightfully theirs while bringing their people to its precipice.
What else was there but his words, face, and ideas? Y/N soaked it all in, memorizing each and every word.
The Lion's presence threw gas on a growing flame, keeping his son warm. Each word and command wasn't understood and yet he could hold the metaphorical weight with mythic understanding.
His mind was filled with violence, a giddy excitement he could only grasp with weak, underdeveloped fingers.
"One day, and one day soon," The Lion stated with such fire that Y/N opened his eyes wide to listen. "You will grow into a weapon. You will know the only battle that which will name you doom. And you, my son, will crush the darkness."
Empty promises. That's all The Lion could give his son as he lay connected to machines. He didn't know when it would happen, but he stood somewhat happy to know Y/N would go with hope.
"So it is said, and so will it be..."