Hi guys and gals! Welcome to my first Rwby fanfic (not the first piece of creative writing I've done, but one that I've been looking forward to doing for some time).

I hope you appreciate that in making this, I had to watch and rewatch some of the saddest parts of the series on repeat, and that took a fair bit out of me, all told. Still, this is a part of the RWBY story that I feel was skimmed over in the gap between volumes 3 and 4, and as we all know, Jaune developed greatly as a character in that time.

Please feel free to provide comments and criticism, as I very much enjoy hearing what people think about any work I doI hope you enjoy the story.

Closure

The dust hung thick in the dim light as Jaune crept through the rubble of a burning city. His city, the place he'd called home through some of the greatest and most difficult months of his life. Acrid smoke and the stench of decay, of Grimm, filled his nostrils.

Where once a candy store stood, now a smoldering husk in its place. The bookstore that had been the weekend hangout of choice for the secretly bookish Ren, now flattened by an angry Ursa. Memories of a happier time and place threatened to overwhelm the young hunter as he made his way slowly toward Beacon Academy.

Memories…

A desperate kiss. A tight embrace.

"I'm sorry…"

Jaune's hands clenched into fists. A full day after the fall of Beacon and all of this still felt completely surreal. Like at any moment he would open his eyes and there they would be, his happy smiling teammates, ready to throw themselves at whatever the day held.

When the rocket locker had finally touched down at the evacuation point he had been angry. So very angry. How could she have done this to him? The hopeful expressions on Ren and Nora's faces when he stumbled out, for a moment they looked like they expected a second locker to come crashing down with their final teammate inside.

The looks on those same faces when they realized she wasn't with him.

Water. A single drop running down his arm. He'd been crying again, and he hadn't even realized.

Qrow had brought Ruby back on the last airship out of the city. Ren and Nora had left the hospital with him to wait for it, still holding out hope. Pyrrha hadn't been with them, and Ruby had been severely injured, yet to awaken. He knew then, somewhere deep down that she was… That Pyrrha was…

"It's the job of a leader to bring everyone home" he muttered to himself in the burned-out shell of his favourite bakery.

His job as leader.

He would bring her home.

Poking his head around the corner of a crumbling wall, Jaune could make out the shape of a prowling Beowulf, it's back to him as it sniffed curiously at a pile of what might at one point have been bread.

He may not have ever been the fastest, or the strongest of Huntsman, but he was more than capable of this.

Plotting a course across the debris-ridden floor, he kept as light on his feet as he could as he slunk towards the unsuspecting creature. By the time ears pricked up in alarm, it was too late, Crocea Mors snickering down, neatly separating head from body.

A plume of black smoke, and the monster was gone. Jaune sheathed his sword, the moon's reflection off its blade would only hinder him. He'd dealt with five other Beowolves and an Ursa the same way already, it appeared that the Grimm had split into more solitary groups in search of prey.

That made things easier by far. He'd been able to avoid groups of enemies so far as he went, slowly getting closer and closer to the cliffs that separated Beacon from the Kingdom and city of Vale.

He'd have to scale the cliff, that much was a given. No airships flew in or out of the academy since the last of the surviving students had been ferried out, and a large Nevermore had made the port its home, preventing access by boat.

"Listen kid, you know what you're talking about doing right?" Qrow had narrowed his eyes as Jaune detailed his plan. "The city is a no-go zone. Even I wouldn't go announcing my presence to some of the things that are running around in there. You'll need to be silent as the… as silent as you can be if you want to stand a chance of getting in there."

Despite the warnings though, the old Huntsman had let him go. There had been something in his eyes then. An understanding that Jaune had no doubt came from years of hard, dirty work on the field of battle. Qrow had left him with some tips on stealth, climbing equipment, and an ultimatum.

"Right now, all military equipment is completely focused on securing the economic districts of Vale, and that's going to take a while." Qrow had held up a hand, heading the coming objection off at the pass.

"Now, I know you're not about to sit on your ass for a week while we recapture the city, so I'll tell it straight. No one is going to fly you in right now, but if a student set off an emergency beacon, I could report it and have someone run exfil. Come dawn though, there will be no birds anywhere near Beacon. That means if you want to sneak your way into Beacon, you'll need to do it in the next six hours."

Boy had that sounded easier in theory. Half that time had passed, and he had yet to even make it to the cliffside. His destination was in sight as he crept from the back door of the bakery, only one more row of shopfronts between him and where he would begin his climb. There though, through the darkness there was more movement. Three Beowolves and a small Ursa by the cliff, stationary.

They were between him and Pyrrha, and that made him very, very angry.

Reigning himself in before he did anything stupid, Jaune took another look at his surroundings. There, a building that still stood nearby. Occasionally one of the Beowolves would walk a short ways from the rest, and pass from their sight around the corner. Perfect.

Jaune stayed crouched in the temporary cover of some broken barrels until the Grimm moved towards the house. Creeping from his hiding place, he unsheathed his sword as he reached the shadow of the house, and just in time.

A black and red head slipped around the corner, and he swung, a calculated blow meant to cleave skull. Instead though, he was off by a fraction, chopping down instead on muzzle. His prey yelped, before a second panicked blow ended it.

The damage was done though. The noise had caught the attention of the pack, a series of low growls filling the air, and Jaune grimaced as he darted around the corner.

"If at all possible, you should try to avoid engaging groups of two or more enemies" Qrow had suggested. "In places like this that are overrun, fights will only attract more and more enemies. If that fails though, you need to end the fight as quickly as possible. Every second you give them to call for help makes it less likely you will win the fight."

Cold fury. Every kill until now had been a precise move, calculated to the nth degree and that afforded little opportunity for emotion. Now though, something slipped loose, and Jaune grinned as tears streaked from his eyes and he sprinted towards the biggest threat, the Ursa.

I will make you pay.

The fight was short, and it was brutal. There was no fine swordsmanship, that wasn't his style. He just chopped and hacked until there was nothing left of the Ursa, and started on the Beowolves.

A claw mark opened up on his forearm as he brought the pommel of his sword down on the first as it leapt. A dull crunch of bone and it was still, already beginning to disappear.

The second was cannier. It opened its jaws, raising its head to the sky, and Jaune was only just able to leap the distance to plant Crocea Mors in its throat as what should have been a howl was replaced with a bloody gurgle.

Panting heavily, Jaune wiped the tears from his eyes. On any other night he might have been ecstatic. Four opponents downed, and only a scratch to show for it. Now though, all he felt was a dull throb in his sword arm.

Time to climb. Qrow had been helpful enough to point out the easiest spots on the cliff to scale (Jaune hadn't asked any questions about THAT), but it would still be tough. Basic climbing skills had been covered in class, and for the first time he was thankful for the exhausting amount of coursework and physical activity that had been the bane of his existence at Beacon.

Shrugging a small pack from his shoulders, Jaune took from it a small jar of chalk. Removing his gloves, the applied it liberally to his hands and surveyed his route upwards. True to his word, Qrow had been right about this section of cliff. There were a couple of tricky spots, but routes up the cliff face could be made out as worn sections of stone marked where wayward or adventurous students from the past had made the climb.

Securing the pack again, Jaune shook out his arms and tested the first handhold. Heaving himself up to a small ledge, he tried to focus on just keeping three points of contact with the cliff and nothing else, but despite his attempts, his mind couldn't help but wander.

Why did she do it? The decision of whether to take up the mantle of Fall Maiden had been eating at her, that much was for certain. He'd known that something had been bothering her, and asking her after the fair had been met with… mixed results. That moment, when he'd put his hand on hers and she'd leaned into him she had been so desperate for comfort. Learning what she'd gone through, the choice she'd been forced to make…

But still, why had she felt like she had to face Cinder alone? A hurt swelled inside him, as much as he tried to quash it.

"We're partners." He muttered, stopping for a moment as a hot flash of emotion- anger and sadness, rose, before he forced it back down.

He refused to believe she was gone. It was as simple as that.

"Still partners. And I'm coming back for you."

Maybe some music would help. Making sure he was firmly anchored to the side of the cliff he took a moment to glance upward. Halfway there in just under half an hour. If he kept up the pace, that would leave him with just two hours to make his way to the top of the tower where Pyrrha had been headed.

Fishing his scroll from his pocket with a spare hand, he fumbled as he almost dropped it, accidentally looking down as he did.

Yikes. Not doing that again.

Vertigo tenuously under control, Jaune awkwardly manipulated a single earbud to his ear. Sighing, he jammed his thumb in the general direction of the play bar he knew would deliver sweet mind-numbing heavy metal directly into his brain.

"Alright Jaune, just like we practiced."

Crack!

For a moment, time paused. His surroundings focused into crystal clear detail as his only handhold evaporated beneath a clenched gauntlet.

"Keep your grip tight…"

Movement. He was falling backwards, his center of balance quickly passing beyond what was salvageable as he frantically scrabbled for a handhold.

"Don't forget to keep your front foot forward."

Jaune's left foot slipped from its purchase as he carried on backwards, his life flashing before his eyes in an instant. He was so far up. Even his aura couldn't deflect the impact of a direct fall from this height.

"Ready?"

No. He wasn't ready for this. Wasn't ready to leave what was left of his team to pick up the pieces if he died here. But as Jaune's eyes darted one last time to the cliff face before him, he realized just how far from the wall he'd already been carried. His right foot came away then and he was in freefall.

A dull roar sounded, as blood rushed to his head and the wind rattled past his face. The bottom of his stomach dropped out as he picked up speed and the ground filled his vision, approaching rapidly.

At least he'd been able to hear her voice this one last time…

Jaune closed his eyes.

"Go."