(Author Note: Hey Guys, first time ever publishing a story. Feedback is accepted. Who am I kidding, no one's gonna read this.)
Chapter 1
Flashes. Pain. Fire. That was all Laval could see.
"Guys, run! Get out!"
Voices. Snippets of conversation. "Team... Comatose. Aura... Never wake..." Unfamiliar voices he's never heard. Was he asleep? More flashes.
"Oh shit! Mach, watch out! It's the Fang!"
More snippets and voices. "Found him. Uncon... Fall Forest. Multiple wounds ov... Should be dead."
"Emi! No, - oh fuck!"
He sat up, screaming. Where... Where was he? Was that a Doctor? Laval had so many questions, but the presumed Doctor ran off, shouting for help. Where was his arm? He was used to the wired, metallic feeling of wearing a cybernetic replacement. Where were his clothes? He hadn't remembered wearing a hospital gown. Where was his Team...? It hit him. The White Fang had rolled in a surprise ambush during an assignment to clear out a cave of Grimm in Forever Fall. They had been hurt, all of them – His right leg had been broken by an Ursa, Emi's weapon – A Polearm that turned into a high impact Rifle had been completely destroyed, Mach had a concussion and had several gashes along his chest and legs and Folly had been pounced on by a group of Beowulves.
They had barely made it out alive. Covered in injuries they made their way back to the School-Issued Bullhead. The White Fang had got there first. With the pilot dead and everyone injured, the Fang had an easy time. Emi died first, spitting in the face of the commander. He slit her throat and left her to bleed. Mach was simply shot. They took Folly and Laval though... One for torture and the other for... Other reasons. Folly was dead when he made his escape. He prayed to any God who would listen that they simply tortured her and not the second option. Him, they did torture. Water boarding, broken ribs, stabbing, electricity. By all accounts he should have been dead. He didn't know why he was alive, maybe the God was some sick fuck who enjoyed letting his creations fight, like a small child ripping the wings off a fly. The guards had gotten lax with him, so he simply beat one to death with a brick and stole the keys and his pistol. Not for combat, but in case he was caught. For himself.
He found his sword in the room next door, and after that it was simply a case of walking out of the front door. They figured no one would escape. He had crawled his way to some place far away, body broken and nearly dead, when someone had found him. That was the last thing he remembered.
"Mr Fuego, we need you to lay down, please. You have to rest."
Laval knew better than to argue with a doctor, and he complied.
It had been two weeks since the death of his team. He hadn't been to class, and hadn't been taking good care of himself. His mother had visited. That was the only time in two weeks he felt close to someone.
The funeral for his team mates was a closed casket affair. Folly was simply killed... Not what he had feared. Still, her body was being lowered into the dirt, and not his. His partner was in a casket. As were the rest of his friends, the rest of Team FLME. Headmaster Ozpin had discussed his role at Beacon, and basically told him that he was shit out of luck. He would be going home, to his mother back in Vale, and would never be a Hunter. It simply wasn't fair. Laval had been happy, but seeing his most of his close friends die in front of his face had changed him. He wasn't happy, or friendly, he just seemed to drift, not talking, eating barely anything and sleeping when he wasn't burdened by nightmares. It was a painful existence.
After the funeral, he returned to his room, and sat and slept and looked around. His sword was stabbed into the floor, something that would have normally gotten him into trouble – but in these circumstances was understood.
Then the door was knocked, and opened revealing Professor Goodwitch, one of his favourite teachers. She was... concerned at his state, his hair a mess and bags drooped under his eyes. His clothes were grimy and stubble grew on his face. He hadn't shaved in a week.
"Please, come. Professor Ozpin wishes to talk with you about your position in the School."
He wordlessly complied, following his teacher until they reached the elevator which took him to the very top of Beacon Tower. Ozpin sat at his desk, sipping whatever was in that cup of his. He wished he had a cup of something alcoholic. The headmaster gestured towards the seat that faced his desk.
"Hello Laval." Ozpin started, his face rather serious. "As you know, students at Beacon Academy operate within Teams to promote teamwork. And as you know, a student cannot attend Beacon academy alone."
Laval sighed. He knew what was about to happen.
"However, a rather interesting opportunity has opened up for you, Mr. Fuego. Two teams of students have caught my eye. I would like you to keep an eye on the both of them." He slid two heavy folders across the table, one marked RWBY and the other JNPR.
"If you accept, you will remain at the school. If you refuse... I will have no other choice."
Laval looked over the folders, scanning names, semblances weapons. He recognized a few, like Pyrrha Nikos – the winner of the Mistral Regional Tournament 4 times in a row, and Weiss Schnee, Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. Oh fun.
Laval read them over a few more times. Was he even qualified to do this? He looked at his teacher, and uttered the first full sentence he had spoken in two weeks.
"When do I start, Sir?"
