A/N: Hey guys!Well, this is a surprise, yeah? I am a big fan of Roosterteeth, and when they came out with RWBY, I decided to give it a try. I have to say: amazing webseries. This one-shot was bouncing around in my head for quite some time, so I wanted to get it down on paper. I hope you guys enjoy it! Reviews and Constructive Criticism are welcomed.

Disclaimer: The title is inspired "Your Arms Feel Like Home" by 3 Doors Down. I do not own the lyrics to this song or RWBY.


It was a late night at Beacon Academy, the skies obscured by a blanket of storm clouds. Torrents of rain pelted against the walls of the school. Despite the heavy downpour, however, the school's students slept peacefully through the night. It has been a long day for all of them; their classes ranging from lectures and hunts on the different species of Grimm, weapon forging and maintenance, and even monitored contact sparring amongst other students. The new school year only started a couple of months ago, and it already has most of the first year teams worked to the bone. Any kind of reprieve was not taken advantage of. All in all, the students of Beacon were getting some well-deserved rest…

All but one…

Jaune Arc, leader of Team JNPR, was the only one awake in the recreational area near the dormitories. The seventeen year old blonde sat broodingly on a couch, a glass of barely touched, lukewarm milk in his hands. He didn't wear his light-blue fuzzy one-piece pajama with matching bunny slippers, but his usual attire of jeans and his black hoodie, sans the white chest plate and arm guards. His only source of light was a candle on top of a table in front of him, which burnt down to a stub over the last hours, its dim orange light barely illuminated his sullen face. On top of the table was also his great-great grandfather's sword, tucked away in its accompanying sheath/shield. To say he was miserable would be an understatement: first he was late to his lecture on the history and applications of Dust, his notes and journals were ruined from the rain as he rushed from class to class, and Cardin Winchester of Team CRDL managed to trap Jaune in his rocket-propelled locker again.

But those weren't the worst of it…

Jaune's father called him earlier in the day about his progression in Beacon Academy. From what Arc Senior discovered about his son led to a heated argument between the two. One thing led to another, names were called, but in the end, Jaune was left with anger, anguish, and extreme hurt.

Jaune sniffed faintly as he barely managed to keep his tears from flooding down his face. He vigorously rubbed his eyes with his gloved palm to fight off the exhaustion and threatening tears. Why did everything have to be so hard? He thought that just being accepted into Beacon would make his father finally proud of him, but it wasn't enough. It only set the bar for Jaune's already difficult expectations to rise. He had to live up to his great-great grandfather's heroic legacy, as did his father, grandfather, and great grandfather had since. The prior men had an easier time, since they had the strength, fearlessness, and charisma to make it. While Jaune does excel in strategy and tactics, he lacked in those areas: he wasn't strong, he frightens at every sign of danger, and he was just a mockery in others' eyes. He would always be the scrawny kid that gets picked on and gets his lunch money stolen.

"Jaune?" a familiar, female voice called out behind him.

Jaune snapped his head up from his reverie at the voice. He turned around, his blue eyes widen at the confirmation.

"P-Pyrrah? Why are you up so late?" Jaune stammered.

Pyrrah Nikos, fellow team member of JNPR and Jaune's partner during the initiation, stood at the entrance of the recreational area. She wore a decent light-blue sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of crimson pajama pants instead of her reinforced leather armor. Her fiery red hair wasn't in its usual ponytail, but she opted to let it flow down past her waist. Over her shoulders was her comforter blanket, pinned together with one hand, and the other holding a candelabra with fresh candles. In the bright candle light, her vivid emerald eyes were exhausted, but were filled with concern. On her face was a soft, but worried smile.

"I should be asking you the same thing, Jaune," Pyrrah teased, but soon her smile sobered. "You didn't come back to the dorm, your bed is untouched. Is everything alright?"

Jaune shook his head vigorously and forced an unconvincing smile. "N-Nothing's wrong, Pyrrah. Just…" he paused, trying to think of an excuse, unaware his voice cracked for a bit. "I just wanted a glass of milk, that's all." He took a small sip of the drink to emphasize his point, but cringed faintly at the lukewarm temperature. Inwardly, he wondered why Headmaster Ozpin chose him as team leader instead of Pyrrah. She graduated as one of the top students at Sanctum and won the Mistral Regional Tournament four years running, plus she was strong and vicious in a fight. Those alone made her a famous figure throughout the world of Vytal. In hindsight, she seemed the most obvious choice to be leader, but, as Jaune's luck could have it, that wasn't the case.

She was perfect, while Jaune was just…Jaune.

Pyrrah remained unconvinced, unmoving from her spot at the entranceway. Jaune swallowed subconsciously, worried that he angered her in some way. After what seemed to be an eternity, the girl calmly walked to him and placed the candleholder next to Jaune's own burnt candle. Then she sat down next time him on the couch, but gave him a respectful amount of distance between them. Jaune nearly jumped when the seventeen year old girl placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, causing him to look at her.

"Jaune…I know something is bothering you," Pyrrah murmured, "I'm your friend and your partner…we're supposed to be there for one another. The rest of the team and I place our trust in you, but the road works both ways. Please…what is wrong?"

Her eyes were pleading for an answer. Many people may see Jaune as worthless, but he was special in her eyes. Throughout her career as a famous celebrity, she encountered countless men that only saw her as an object. She always would brush them off, but when she met Jaune with Weiss at the lockers, he wasn't quite what she expected. In hindsight, he was clumsy, naïve, awkward, and all around goofball. Also, he was a bit of a womanizer—tried to be, at least. But what surprised her the most is that he didn't know of her accomplishments or skill as a fighter. Yet he still asked her to be part of his team. It didn't shock or upset her, but it was a welcome breath of fresh air. To be treated and respected as a real person, not as someone famous. After he learned of her past, Jaune felt he was unworthy to be working alongside someone as her, but she felt otherwise. That sort of modesty was uncommon in Pyrrah's eyes, and there she knew he would be different. Her thoughts and attraction only strengthen when she unlocked Jaune's aura during the initiation mission. That much aura was rare in an individual, let alone in one who had no idea what aura was beforehand. Not only it was a sign that he was destined to do great things, but the aura allowed glimpses of what lies beneath.

Courage…humility…gratitude…accountability…patience …and even his humor flared in his aura when her own came in contact with his. These were signs of a true leader.

Unfortunately, despite his potential, Jaune was emotionally fragile. Discouraged by the constant bullying by Cardin and others harshly criticizing him—fellow students and even a few professors included—Jaune didn't believe he could live up to being a great leader. He was in a constant state of self-doubt. It broke Pyrrah's heart to see him in such a state.

She waited for Jaune's answer, but he was silent as he looked away to the side as he put the glass of milk down. Her brows furrowed slightly as she frowned a bit. "Is it Cardin again, Jaune? I heard he launched you in your locker again. You should go report to Ozpin if things are—"

Jaune interrupted her by holding his hands up and waving them, a gesture of no. "N-No, it's not Cardin this time..." he replied, the crack in his voice more prominent. "W-well, I guess—um, no…well, part of it yes—I don't know…but he's not the main reason why."

"Then what, Jaune?"

He was silent once again, before he turned away again and shut his eyes. "I-It's nothing you should worry about yourself, Pyrrah. My problems are my own…I shouldn't burden you with them. Just…" He gave out a shuddering sigh, shoulders quaking faintly. "J-just leave me alone…"

Part of him wished he hadn't said that, but he didn't to trouble others in his own personal affairs, especially Pyrrah. But then he felt something warm rest against him gently and he pressed against something soft. Azure eyes snapped open, only to widen in surprise when he saw Pyrrah holding him close in an affectionate hug, wrapped under her comforter, and her cheek resting against the crown of his head. His mind told him to gently break away, but his heart told him not to. Heat flooded into his cheeks as he feebly tried to speak up.

"W-What's the hug, for?" he asked shyly.

Pyrrah drew back from the embrace a bit and locked eyes with him. She gave him a slight shrug of her shoulders. "You just look like you needed one," she replied as she studied his face. "That…and you look like you need to cry, honestly. Your eyes are so red…if you want to get something off your chest, you can tell me."

Jaune could only stare at her for a minute. Why did his face feel so hot, and that the walls of his resolve were breaking down? And why did he feel faint lines of moisture trailing down his cheeks?

Pyrrah's face softened as she brought up a hand to gently thumb away some of the tears that sneaked out.

Stubbornly and angry at himself, Jaune hastily rubbed his face with his forearm. He could hear Pyrrah give out a frustrated breath.

"It's okay to cry, Jaune, there's no shame in it."

The blonde gave out a huff as he moved his arm away from his face. "Dad…" Jaune growled bitterly. "Dad…didn't like it if I cried…said that real Arc men don't cry."

Pyrrah shook her head softly and her hands were soft, rubbing away his tears before cupping his face. She looked bemused and gave out another frustrated sigh. "Jaune…I'm going to be brutally honest with you: that is crap." Jaune blinked, shocked. Throughout all his time with Pyrrah, he never, ever heard her say "crap" or any swear. The worst word he heard was "atrocious". "Some people do cry, some don't, but it's never a sign of weakness. You should never be ashamed to cry if you needed an outlet."

Jaune could only stare at her as his mind contemplated her words. He still believed that he shouldn't cry, especially in front of others. Dad drilled that into his mind, and he would be extremely upset and angry if he found out.

"…This is about your father, isn't it…?" She asked gently, earning a slight nod in return.

Dad would be beyond pissed if he found out…I'll be more of a disappointment in his eyes…but…but he isn't here.

After a long time, Jaune shut his eyes and felt the tears finally leak and break through. He lowered his head until his face was buried in the crook of Pyrrah's neck. His arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, palms open against the small of her back, as she brought him into another comforting embrace. Pyrrah's fingers combed through Jaune's blonde hair, a soothing action as he gave out a shuddering breath. He didn't wail or sob, but let out a few choked cries as he breathed in and out. Her embrace was soft, but underneath was a quiet strength that Jaune drew upon as he wished to stop the tears from falling.

"D-Dammit…" Jaune murmured. "I haven't told you anything and I'm already crying…I don't know where to start…"

Pyrrah smiled softly. "Go with what you feel is right, Jaune." He hesitantly, yet gently broke off from the hug, resting his back against the couch. However, his hand reached down and gently took hold of her hand and laced fingers together. He remained quiet, thinking on where and how to start.

"Do…do you know the history of the Arc line, Pyrrah?" he asked quietly. She shook her head in return. He then motioned to the sheathed sword on top of the table. "Back in the War…my great-great grandfather, Leon Arc, was a legendary Huntsman. Some say he was invincible against the Grimm; nothing could touch him. He was also the man that led several key charges against the enemy that turned the tide to our favor. Because of that…he was a hero…" His brows furrowed and his other hand clenched into a fist. "But that reputation…that legacy I have to uphold…nothing good comes out of it…"


"Jaune Arc, what the hell is the meaning of this?!" Jaune's father yelled through the video conversation. His father was a middle-aged man, his blonde hair and full beard graying from old age, but still have that aura of power from his youth. "Failing grades in combat practice, no record of a Grimm kill from your monitored hunts and missions, and what is this of a boy making a fool out of you?!"

Jaune winced at every point his father screamed. The boy wringed his hands together nervously as he gazed at the monitor. "Dad, I'm trying, I really am! I-I'm just a bit behind, that's all; I'll catch up! A-And Cardin's just playing around, heheh, j-just little pranks that's—"

"Dammit boy!" Whatever words were about to come out of Jaune stopped dead at their tracks from dad's outburst. "Do you know how this would make us look like if this got out?!" Jaune only could give a meek shake of his head in return. "We're a line of successful and prestigious Huntsmen and Huntresses. If the public learned that a member of the Arc line is not only failing miserably in Beacon, but also is being pushed around by some lowly bully, our reputation is tarnished. You're an Arc, dammit, so act like one!"

Jaune's hands clenched into fists, trembling with anger. "It's not like I'm failing on purpose, dad! I am trying to live up to great-great grandpa's reputation. I'm doing everything you've taught me to do, trying to be like you! But in the end I get my butt handed to me and everyone makes fun of me."

"You're disgracing the Arc name, Jaune!"

"Well you're a pain in the ass, dad!"

"You better shape up now, Jaune, or don't come home at all!"

That was it. That was the last straw. The lines around Jaune's mouth hardened while his eyes glistened with held back tears. His finger reached toward the end call button.

"Jaune, Jaune, don't you dare hang up on me!"

The teen didn't give his father the chance. He pressed the end call button and left the monitor.

His heart shattered in pieces.


Jaune's eyes began to tear up again as he concluded what happened earlier that day. His father's words echoed painfully in his mind as his shoulders were quaking from an onslaught of new emotional turmoil. Pyrrah stayed quiet out of respect throughout his tale, but when he was done, she brought him into another soft embrace.

"Your father was wrong trying to shape you into like himself…or like your ancestor…" she whispered. "True leaders…true paragons are not made to be like others. It is their own morals and convictions that make them unique and succeed. If we stayed in the past, we cannot adapt, we cannot change as the world does around us."

Everything in front of his dad and others was a front, a lie. He pretended to be his dad to win the approvals of his family, but by doing so did more harm than good. It only ended in fighting and disagreement with his father. But now he was bare and raw; Pyrrah cared about who he truly was and nothing more, nothing less. She didn't think less of him for expressing his emotions. For the first time for a long while, Jaune didn't have to put up a mask around anyone. There was no reason to pretend being someone else when he was with her. All the anger and anguish from his heart felt like they were drained out.

He felt…cherished…valued…and maybe even—

Jaune ears burned red at that thought. It wasn't a possibility…right?

They continued to sit for a while, no words were exchange but instead was a companionable silence. Jaune sniffed for the umpteenth time and sighed through his mouth heating her exposed shoulder against his lips. "'M sorry…" he murmured, for the fact that Pyrrah's shoulder and shirt strap were wet.

The girl gave a soft chuckle and rustled his hair playfully yet comfortingly. "Don't apologize…besides, that's my thing, you know?" she joked, hoping to lighten up his mood. It did, as a very faint chuckle escaped from his mouth. Her hand reached down to grab a corner of the comforter and gently dab off some tears from his face. "Seriously though, don't worry about it."

Pyrrah didn't make him look up from her shoulder until he felt he was sure the tears stopped. Jaune wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist, while Pyrrah continued to dab away the trails of tears that lingered on his face.

"…You have what it takes to be a good leader, Jaune…" she said out of the blue. He looked up at her, bewildered blue meeting calm green. "You might think that you can't live up to your ancestor's legacy, but you've already exceed expectations, in your own terms. When I unlocked your aura, I caught a glimpse of who you truly are and will be. You have a soul of cast-iron, willing to do whatever it takes to protect those that you care about. You're also the leader that is not fearless, but has the courage to face those fears head on. Remember back when we had to face that Death Stalker in the forest? You could've ran ahead of us, avoided the fight altogether. But you didn't. You found a way to regroup at our side and face the Grimm head on."

She let go of the corner of the blanket as her hand resumed its ministrations in Jaune's hair. "Kind, compassionate, the patience and tolerance for your subordinates: these traits are the catalyst of your aura, the ideal traits of an inspiring leader. But you will not make the ends justify the means; you will always look for alternatives and the sacrifices that have to be made won't be in vain."

She paused for a moment, leaning down so that their foreheads were touching. Their noses were just a fraction apart from connecting as their gazes held. "You don't ask for recognition for your role in whatever life throws at you, but you cherish all the good deeds you've done for us. You think you'll never be worthy to be here in Beacon with us, but the truth is…we'll never be worthy to be with you." She closed her eyes for a bit, enjoying the sensation of being close to him, before reopening them again. "You're already a great person…not from being like your father…or your ancestor Leon Arc…but from being you."

Jaune blinked. And after a moment, he found his mouth was curling into a smile, a real smile. Pyrrah noticed it and mirrored his. "There's my Jaune."

He could feel his heart leap up to his throat and unending joy fill his being. Hers…her Jaune. The teen couldn't form any words to say to her, enchanted by her emerald orbs. Slowly, his face unconsciously crawled forward. With the awkwardness of a teenager going in for his first kiss, Jaune hoped to the heavens that she'd meet him. His heart pounded in his ears, terrified beyond belief.

When their lips touched, jolts of electricity seemed to surge through their bodies. Jaune felt like his blood was enflamed from the sensation. Her front was pressed against his, and he could feel her heartbeat against his own. It was pure rapture. It wasn't the idealized kiss he saw in movies or the kiss the male side of his family boasted at family reunions; it was better. Jaune felt something ignite in his heart, burning through his core as his hands trembled on Pyrrah's waist.

He was shy…shy and scared, but absolutely real.

From her, he felt the same shyness and scare, but also that of understanding and even satisfaction. Her arms snaked around his neck and gently drew him in closer.

When they parted, Jaune felt dizzy—a happy kind of delirious. He opened his eyes to look at Pyrrah's. They were gentle, happy, and approving. He gave out a small jubilant laugh, the feeling of happiness threatening to burst his chest. Their noses barely brushed together. Somehow, Jaune could feel her smiling, even when he'd shut his eyes when her bangs nearly got into them.

They sat there in the room, basking in each other's presence. It wasn't until Pyrrah drew her head a bit to look more directly into his eyes.

"We should get back to the dorm, Jaune."

While he could agree wholeheartedly, he didn't want the moment to end. "Can we…just stay here for tonight?" he asked timidly.

Pyrrah gave a small giggle and decided to concede to his request. "Oh alright…" She drew her comforter higher and wrapped it around them.

Jaune snuggled into the crook of her neck, keeping one arm around her waist. "Pyrrah…can you also help me with my aura? You know…be able to use it better?"

She smiled softly before she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "I'd be honored, Jaune…on one condition, though." He looked up at her once more as she placed her free palm against his face. "Always be the goofy, kind, brave, and funny Jaune I grew to adore."

Jaune gave her a charming smile, using his other hand to cross where his heart was with his finger. "Promise."

The girl couldn't help but roll her eyes at the cheesy sign, but there was no harm behind it. She still had the genuine smile on her face. Reaching over, she took ahold of the candelabra and blew out the candles. Placing it back on the table, one her hands found its way to the back of Jaune's head and the other laced together his free hand.

"Goodnight, Jaune," she murmured before closing her eyes.

Jaune let out one last tear before closing his own eyes, snuggling deeper in her embrace.

"Goodnight, Pyrrah…"

Soon exhaustion claimed the two, and they slept through the rain that pelted against the windows. For the longest time, Jaune felt at peace, like a heavy burden was lifted off his shoulders.

He didn't care what his father think of him, nor if he was still a disappointment in his eyes. Even if he couldn't go back to his old home, if he graduated or not from the academy, Jaune knew there was always a place for him.

As he laid there in Pyrrah's arms, he felt at home.

There's a life inside of me that I can feel again

It's the only thing that takes me where I've never been

I don't care if I lost everything that I have known

It don't matter where I lay my head tonight

Your arms feel like home…

Feel like home…

3 Doors Down, "Your Arms Feel Like Home"