A/N: Hello, and welcome to my fic, thanks for giving it a try! First and foremost, I'd like to thank redditors PUNished_Venom_Yang and IMayFallAgain, who have helped create and shape this story; I may be writing it, but this is their story, too. Secondly, I'm afraid I cannot make any promises on a release schedule for this story; my other ongoing fic had priority, and even that does not have a set schedule. I know I dislike vague update times as a reader, but I'd rather just tell y'all now than disappoint later on. FInally, I'll go into some detail of the story in the post, so please bare with me.
Thank you for reading, and please enjoy chapter one!
…
…Thought. Thought, thinking. That was what she was doing, she was thinking.
Did she do that before? She thought she had. It was good to be thinking again, but could she do more?
Motion: could she move? She felt stretching and contracting, pieces moving. Arms, and legs, that's what they were called. They ended in feet and hands – no, in hands and feet. A neck, with a… head? A head, and hair on it. She had those, she could move them.
They were her body.
Had she always had a body?
There was more: sensations. She could feel rough ground beneath herself, see the darkened walls and ceiling, hear the creaking stone and whining wood. And she could feel something. One way, and another, she could feel somethings that pushed and pulled her, tugging at her soul.
Oh, she had a soul. She hadn't noticed that before.
She moved arms and legs, hand and feet, and lifted herself from the ground. She had been on her back in a great, dilapidated room. Wood and cloth and stone lay smashed and strewn across it, a large piece of wood hanging by a hole. No, a door hung from its hinges in the frame.
She could feel those somethings pulling on her soul: one was elsewhere, but another was far through that door. She did not know who she was, or where, or why she was here, or even when.
Oh, when. The concept of time, neat.
She didn't know these things, but she knew she had to reach those sensed… beacons? She didn't know why, but she had to go to them.
With a hesitant step, she moved for the exit, to see what awaited her.
'Thrust.'
His sword rammed into the Beowolf easily, the creature bending over the wound to better reach him.
'Withdraw, horizontal cut, bring shield up.'
He stepped back before the Grimm could grab hold, and his returning strike drove the creature down. His shield knocked the dissipating monster aside, and he braced himself for the oncoming Boarbatusk.
'Push off with shield, downward chop.'
He put his weight behind the steel and the spinning beast ground to a halt. He shoved forward with a step, pushing the creature off of him, before slamming Crocea Mors down between its bony ridges.
'Step back, reset'.
He fell into the defensive stance, eyes searching out more threats, but the Grimm were defeated. Ren and Nora had backed up to him, thinking for some reason their leader could cover them, while Team CFVY was already moving to replace his team. Yatsuhashi stood sentinel by the room's forward exit, while Coco covered the rear.
"Alright you guys, we'll take it from here!" She was always so damn cocky, Coco. They'd spent the last four hours clearing Grimm out of this block, but now CFVY would just waltz in and finish the job? He wanted to tell her to go bother some other team, but he knew that was just his mood talking. He knew JNPR - JNR - was due to leave for the safe zone again.
So Jaune bit down on his tongue, sheathed his sword, and passed Coco by.
"At this rate, we'll be making a move on Beacon in no time!" Nora confidently cheered behind him. "I mean, we covered a block just on our own; Miss Goodwitch can probably clear one in half an hour."
'What's the point in reclaiming a burnt-out piece of the residential district at all? Why don't we take back Beacon now? There's nothing worth having in this part of town!' He wanted to scream the idiocy of the whole thing at anyone they saw on their way to the extract point.
A calmer part of his mind was already countering him, though. 'It secures this side of the river for supply movements, allows salvage and maintenance crews to restore Vale's infrastructure, and gives a visible sign the Grimm are being dealt with. A full-scale assault is needed to retake Beacon, and they can't move everyone by air for that.'
"I don't know about that, but I imagine this neighborhood will be in the safe zone before the week is up." Ren answered Nora with that same calmness he always had. Well, almost always. "I, at least, am looking forward to some rest."
"Some sleep would be pretty great." He sorrowfully agreed. He already knew he wouldn't sleep; the nightmares would wake him up, or the expectation of them would keep him from falling asleep. He'd been running on fumes, and they all knew it.
"Let's swing by a medic, though! I want to make sure this burn'll be fine!" Nora wasn't really burned, she just wanted him to see a medic about his sleep troubles.
'It's a waste of time,' he inwardly groused. 'The medics have actual problems to deal with, they have no time for my nightmares. There are people out there who are hurt! People who are dy-'
"I'm sorry." A metal coffin, rattling as it flew through the air. He could faintly hear her crying.
"Jaune!" He snapped back to himself, Ren shaking his shoulder. Jaune pulled Ren's hand away, not making eye contact.
"Sorry, I'm back." He didn't need to see Ren's worrying face, didn't need another reminder that he'd screwed up. "Let's just… get back to the tent, alright?" He started moving again, practically running to stay ahead of his friend's concerned gazes.
He didn't deserve their pity, their trust. This was his fault, after all.
She was in a ruin, but she thought she recognized what it had been before. Not the name, she didn't even remember her own name, but she knew she liked it here. It felt like home, or home away from home.
Wait, did she just think she had a name? Yes, she had! She had a name, maybe that's what she would find at that distant place?
The idea of such a wonderful thing drove her forward even faster, her feet scuffing and scraping on the shattered rock of courtyard and road. Strange, shadowy creatures walked those same roads, though. Black fur, white bone, and red eyes.
'They're called Grimm.' The thought resonated in her mind, and she felt giddy excitement bubble up, recalling another piece of knowledge, a piece of herself.
The Grimm were supposed to be dangerous, she knew, but they paid her no mind. She supposed that was good, since she had no idea what to do if they did pay her mind. Run? Fight? Did she even know how to fight? They were so large: surely, she would stand no chance?
She walked down roads and scampered over rubble, she moved for hours. The sun had passed its zenith when she first stepped under it, and she had taken great pride in remembering its name. But now, that golden disk was turning red, heading for the horizon. She walked towards it, and the beacon that lay somewhere along it.
Her feet carried her to a cliff, a sheer edge overlooking a great expanse of stone. A…city? Yes, that was a city! It was a city, and the beacon she felt pulling at her was inside it! Her eyes swept along the ridge, looking for a way down it. There was none.
She stepped off, and began to fall.
The Students' Barracks were a series of military tents, cordoned off in a small plaza on the edge of Vale's safe zone. Looking around, you'd never guess several hundred people were living here. Jaune couldn't see anyone beyond his team out of the tents at the moment, and even inside their tent shared with four other teams, no one was in the common space. Ren moved to the stove, getting water for their dinner of rice and beans.
The three of them ate inside their little segment, the thick curtains muffling outside noise and offering a hint of privacy. Nora was chattering about something, and he put on a small smile for their benefit, but he wasn't really listening. He was going through the motions of hearing the story, pretending the simple meal Ren had made for them didn't taste like ash to him, acting like he'd lie down and not stare at the canvas until exhaustion pulled him into nightmares.
Ren and Nora were good people, they were his friends: they didn't need him dragging them down.
While Nora collected their dishes, Jaune laid down in bed, pulling out his scroll to try and convince his friends he was actually doing something, instead of just staring at a picture of her.
…
He was staring at the canvas roof, as usual. He could hear Nora snoring, and Ren's steady breath, and muffled noises from outside. They weren't keeping him up. He just couldn't sleep. So, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling.
There was a rustling noise in their segment, where no one should have been. Jaune lifted himself onto his elbows and locked up.
Pyrrha was there.
She was sitting on the edge of his bed, smiling down at him, emerald eyes bright in the dark. He pushed himself further up, to touch her, and she stretched her hands out to him. Her hands held his face as they kissed again. Her lips were fever hot, and tasted like apple. He wrapped his arms around her, to pull her close, to never let go.
Her lips began to cool, and she pulled away from him. He felt something wet on his lips and wiped at them. Blood? He looked back up, and she had changed.
A broken arrow jutted from her chest, her skin was ash white, and blood seeped from her lips. She was still smiling at him. She leaned back towards him, he couldn't move. She brought her lips to his ear, and whispered to him.
"You couldn't save me."
His eyes fired open, and Jaune stared at the canvas.
'Just another nightmare, Jaune. It was just another nightmare.' His heart was pounding its way out of his chest, his skin was covered in a cold sweat, and exhaustion still weighed down on the backs of his eyes.
'It may be a nightmare, but it's true. You're a liar, a cheat, and a failure, Jaune Arc. If you were a real Huntsman, she'd still be alive. If she had anyone else, she'd still be alive. She's dead because you aren't good enough.'
Despite wind and rock, she landed in water. The pulsing light that drew in her soul was downriver, so she allowed the current to move her into the city. Great swathes of it were in ruin, Grimm stalking the alleyways. Slowly though, the streets cleared of rubble, black fur and red eyes faded, and streetlamps dimly lit the paths.
She felt herself begin to pass her destination, and swam to the shore.
She was also quite pleased to recall how to swim.
She dragged herself from the water, drenched through, and waited a moment on the bank to dry. She wasn't sure why, but she knew it would be bad to stay wet for too long.
The sun had set well before she pulled herself from the water, and now she wandered the streets by dim streetlight and distant fire. It was nearly an hour before she saw the first one. Pale skin, dark green cloth, and a bright silver… weapon? That was a person, a human, and they were carrying a weapon! They were called soldiers, she thought. The soldier stared into the darkness, eyes sweeping for something, but did not see her as she wandered further into the city. Her beacon was still far away, but so much closer!
She walked the streets for a few more hours, groups of soldiers and lone figures alike not paying her notice, until she arrived at a square overflowing with tents. Her destination was inside her, she could feel it! Moment after frantic moment, she ran through the narrow alleys, following the burning pull in her soul, until she found it. A tent no different from the others, but she knew this was where she needed to be. In utter silence, she pushed her way into the darkened pavilion.
Down the black hall she walked, exhilaration filling her until she found yet another vast cloth flap. Ducking past it, there was a small room with three cots and two chests. A tremendous noise rose from one cot, from a sleeping form, but the other two figures were quiet. One of them was her goal.
She could see the profile of his face, staring up at the ceiling. Blond hair, a blue eye, a face she…knew? Yes, she knew this person, and he was important to her. She inched closer to his prone form, silently creeping across the distance to him. He did not see her, eyes locked on the space above him as if his gaze would pierce the fabric.
She felt an urge to reach out to him, but she restrained herself. Why, though? Why would she not let herself reach out to him? He was what she sought, he was what pulled on her very being!
It was his eye. It was blue as she remembered, but it was not joyful as she recalled, it was not bright. The skin beneath it was dark, the eye red around the edges, and full of pain. Someone had hurt him. She had hurt him? Yes, she had. She did not know how or when or why, but she had hurt them both.
She did not reach out for him, would not reach out to him until she could remember something of use; It would not do. She slid beneath his low and narrow cot, content to wait there, out of sight, until she could properly greet him.
When Jaune woke up, he could tell something was different immediately.
Aside from the first time, a dream hadn't woken him up all night. He must've slept for at least five hours, and he felt amazing. Right up until he received a message from Glynda Goodwitch, asking him to meet with her.
He left Ren and Nora sparring, and headed out to hunt down the professors' offices. Goodwitch had been trying to keep the students organized, he knew, but she and the other professors were also working night and day to clear Vale of Grimm. He wasn't sure why she'd bother speaking with him at all.
The Beacon staff had moved into the upper floors of a small building not far from the plaza, and the bottom floor was of course a coffee shop; Oobleck probably lived down here. He made his way up the stairs with trepidation, found the door marked "Beacon Faculty", and knocked.
"Come in."
Jaune stepped through, into a near recreation of Goodwitch's old office. It was rather creepy, actually. The professor was at a wide, dark desk, a small mountain of paperwork scattered across the surface.
"Mister Arc, good to see you. Please, take a seat."
He cautiously approached one of the small chairs opposite his professor. "Uh, good morning, Professor Goodwitch, you wanted to see me?" She finished writing something on her papers, then set them aside before focusing on him.
"Yes, Mister Arc, thank you for the timely arrival.
"For the better part of this past month, I have been trying to see to the needs of the Beacon student body, among other things. This initially meant housing you all, finding supplies, and directing the students in our part in retaking the lost portions of Vale." She paused, and Jaune nodded for her to continue.
"However, with the students' situation finally stabilized, I have been taking aside individuals, to see what can be done for them. This has mostly been with the first years, as you were unable to receive even a full year's education before the trouble began.
"Mister Arc, your team has labored to help free Vale from the Grimm: worked tirelessly," he didn't miss the look she gave him when she said that, "but I'm concerned if staying in Vale is the right decision for you."
"What? But we're huntsmen: fighting Grimm is what we're supposed to do!"
"You are students, Jaune. Students who have suffered a great deal." Her face softened, then. "I understand it's been difficult, but throwing yourselves into endless raids is not the healthy way of handling the matter. Have you considered returning home? Letting your wounds heal before charging back into the fray?"
Go home? What home? Ren and Nora had nowhere to go, and there was no way he would crawl back to his family with his tail between his legs. No way he'd come back a failure, it would only prove them right.
"Beacon is our home, Professor." Her expression grew worn at the response.
"You aren't the first to tell me that. You don't have to decide now, of course. All I ask is that you and your team consider it, Jaune. You've all been through a great deal." She looked at him pointedly, eyes softening as she appraised his tired eyes and ragged body.
He pushed himself up from the chair: "Thanks, professor, I'll let Ren and Nora know. May I go?" She waved him permission.
He made his way back to their room, determined to at least try and enjoy what little energy a good night's sleep had given him.
He left the room several times, but she was content to stay in her spot. This was where he was sleeping, so he'd be back at the end of the day. In the meantime, she would think.
She knew him, knew all of them. They were her friends? Yes, her friends, and he was her partner.
What did that mean, though, and how did she hurt them? Who were they? She wracked her mind on those questions for what felt like hours. It was when the girl came back for lunch, dropping a massive hammer on the floor that she remembered some of it.
They were Huntsmen and Huntresses, or at least ones in training. She was a warrior, someone meant to fight Grimm. The revelation made her feel chagrined about simply walking past the creatures of evil earlier, but in her defense, she still didn't even know who she was!
She didn't remember it, but she learned the girl's name was Nora. She'd talked to herself for a while, building herself up. She smiled at hearing the pep talk, knowing on a level she couldn't explain it was so very Nora.
It was when all three returned that night that she began to learn and recall more of her past. Nora called the other boy "Ren", and called her beacon "fearless leader." She knew it was only a partial joke: he was a nervous person, but he always put himself out there, he never let his fear rule him.
Unlike her, she remembered. She had let her fear rule her. Not fear of Grimm, not fear of harm, but fear of people. She let it rule her for so long, and it was her team who helped her learn to rule her fear. That was who these people were! Her team, her friends, and he was her partner on the team!
She had pushed him away.
She had pushed him away, and she had died.
She didn't want to think anymore.
No! She would not let fear rule her, they wouldn't want that! If she hid from them because she was scared of what she did, then she was letting them down again. She didn't understand how she was here, but she was, and she would make good on that! The room had long returned to sleep, Nora snoring loudly while the boys slept in silence, but she drew herself from her hiding spot beneath him.
She moved up towards him, allowing herself to reach out, tracing her hand along his body as she approached him. She stood by his head, and looked down onto his peacefully sleeping face.
Jaune. Jaune Arc was his name.
She felt joyous at that. She felt happy, and she had to let it out. She touched his cheek, and tried to express her glee to him. She discovered then, that she could speak.
"Jaune." Her voice was soft, airy, but hers. His eyes flashed open, locking onto her.
"Pyrrha?"
He fell asleep almost immediately when they got to the room. First time that month.
He knew it was just a dream, but he didn't want it to end. It was just Pyrrha and him, sitting against a wall at Beacon, enjoying the day. They didn't speak, didn't talk about destiny or choice or anything, just enjoyed being next to each other.
Her hand slid up his arm, and Jaune quietly awoke. Something was actually moving up his arm, sliding across his hand, just next to his crotch.
Eyes still shut, Jaune desperately searched his faint, sleepy memories of Port's crazy stories for any with Grimm spiders or Grimm bugs, trying to recall what kind of horrible danger was mere inches from his business. Did the Grimm come in miniature form?
The weight shifted, sliding up his wrist. Whatever it was, it was moving with an even pressure, not lifting the limb from his body. Some kind of Grimm Octopus maybe, with a tentacle on his elbow? It rounded his shoulder, and while the weight on his arm vanished, he could feel it pushing down on the mattress. Jaune wanted to jump to his feet, he wanted to swing out his arm and fling away whatever was next to him, but that would give away that he was awake: he had to maintain the element of surprise until the perfect moment to strike.
'When could I possibly have more of the element of surprise than when it thinks I'm still asleep?!'
Something touched his face lightly, and he heard her call out: "Jaune." He cracked open one eye to stare. Bronze armor, red sash, and brown gloves. Pale skin, red hair, and brilliant green eyes looking into his out of the darkness. All of it made from cloth. A doll.
A doll whose arm was touching his cheek, a doll which had just spoken in her voice.
"Pyrrha?" The eyes were fabric, the mouth a sewn line, but he could feel the brightening of those eyes, feel the smile that burst across that sewn line. This doll recognized what he said, and had smiled at him.
Jaune fainted immediately.
Post: Alright, I know someone is going to say it eventually, so I'll tackle the question now.
"Is this just Arkos From Beyond?" To which, my eloquent response is "Ehh, a little?" I'd obviously be lying if I said Coeur's "From Beyond", a story I thoroughly enjoyed, was not part of the inspiration of Nevrospastos. However, the story will feature a different specific setting, mostly different cast, and different plot: all it will really share is an animated doll and the general RWBY setting. Obviously, a joke that may have appeared in From Beyond may pop up, since animate dolls lend themselves to certain jokes, but I certainly don't intend to just rip off another story wholesale.
I sincerely hope you'll continue to read this story as we move along, and I hope you enjoyed chapter one. Have a great one, folks!