Writer's block, sickness and school, oh my!
Sorry about the huuuuge delay in this chapter, but life was getting kinda hard on me. This is also the reason that this chapter seems kinda dead to me, emotionless. Did I say that right? Probably not.

"Speech"

Thoughts

Wrath of the Angel

Roman's ears twitched slightly as he picked up a sound that seemed to gradually come closer. The forest had been blissfully quiet up to a moment ago.

"Neo, do you hear that?" He asked. She nodded and pointed in a seemingly random direction, eyes narrowed. The sound of footsteps were slow, but definitely coming closer. Roman's eyes narrowed, trying to find who was causing these noises, but the darkness didn't help at all.

"Oh. Fuck. Run," Roman drawled in his usual disinterest, trying his best not to let concern show.

As it turned out, the police were very much awake. After spotting the men dressed in black SWAT suits, the thief took off as fast as he could. He could deal with cops, even with a good amount of them, but a fully armored SWAT team? Without his men?

Oh, I'll have to pass, gentlemen.

Neo, running beside him, flailed her arms around, but the thief paid her no heed. He was not going to be captured, not this day!

He only stopped after Neo tugged at his sleeves, causing him to halt and pant, glaring at her as he did.

"What is it, shrimp?" He growled.

Neo pointed back to the cops.

"What about them? They're not following us, so-"

Oh. Son of a bitch.

They forgot the boy.

With another growl, Roman pulled Neo closer.

"Get him back."

The girl just scoffed and began sneaking behind trees and other plants to get closer. Roman followed suit, albeit slower, stealth not his best quality.

Dashing good looks, certainly. I just cannot be quiet.

Soon, Roman could hear the cops talking into their scrolls as he hid behind a nearby tree.

"The Arc boy has been found and secured. He appears to be sporting a gunshot wound on his right leg and several bruises. Still conscious, but obviously pained, so he won't be any trouble for a while. Calling for pickup."

Roman rolled his eyes. Could they even hear how they're speaking? Ridiculous.

Still, they were a threat. If it were anybody else, Roman would just admit defeat and go, but Cinder's instructions were clear.

Oh Cindy. What misfortune have you brought upon me now?

He needed a plan. Engaging them was obviously out of the question, so their only chance to take the boy back was to follow where he would be imprisoned and then bust him out. This would certainly be something new for him. He could escape prison just fine, but getting someone out? The only person he'd do that for was Neo, and she had never been caught. Ever.

She does like to rub that into my face, little brat she is.

Minutes ticked by, with a few excitements in between in the form of holding Neo back from charging at the cops like a madwoman. Eventually, the black van pulled up, also sufficiently armored. A man stepped out, sporting bright yellow hair. A relative, possibly?

"Throw him in," he barked. Roman almost flinched.

What the hell? I've met many people like him before.

Three simple words, spoken with such malice and hatred. For some reason, it deeply unsettled the gentleman thief. Eyes narrowed, he looked the tall and well-built man up and down. Blue, icy eyes stared down at the broken figure of the boy Roman had wounded, lips twisted into an almost pained sneer.

"Why, hello there, son," he whispered, barely loud enough for Roman's trained ears to hear. The tone alone was enough to make ugly feelings run through the thief.

Roman Torchwick could tolerate much. He could murder, he could steal, he could do everything criminal imaginable (and not so quite imaginable), but there were things that didn't sit well with him, even if he had no idea why.

Oh wait, he knew. That huntsman was the arrogant type. The type he despised the most. They were always the most satisfying to take down if he were to be given an advantage, but their gloating.

Oh Gods, their gloating.

Here though, Roman had no advantage. If the attire of the man, white armor bearing the same crest as the kid's shield, was anything to go by, plus the addition of determined, dead eyes, this was an experienced and dangerous huntsman. Roman didn't engage in fights against that sort unless he really needed to.

Well, this seems like the situation to warrant the "need" label.

The boy didn't do anything but groan. The man shook his head. "Pathetic. Simply pathetic." Without a warning, he stepped on the kid's hand, laughing a little as he hissed and screamed. He began to kick the kid without warning several times, bruising him even further.

"Boys, throw him in already. Have I not made myself clear?"

The cops, obviously intimidated judging by their not so subtle shivering, suddenly snapped up and carried the wounded kid into the van, the man following suit, but not before grabbing the discarded weapons the kid wielded from the forest floor. This was his chance!

"Neo," Roman whispered. The girl didn't even need to hear any further instructions.

Roman waited for the motor to start up and used that specific noise to climb onto the back of the van. Neo had no problem with that, little show off she is. Roman grumbled as he needed a hand.

"What...was that?" Somebody inside asked. Roman shot Neo a look, who just grinned and threw a live squirrel to the front of the car.

"Just a squirrel. It is a forest after all."

Roman shook his head.

Crazy girl.

When the car began driving, the thief glared at the cartop below him.

"What about your family, sir, should I contact them?" Somebody from inside asked.

"There...won't be any need," the huntsman's gruff voice rang out. Roman rolled his eyes at the tone.

I will not fail.

POV Change

Pain. Nothing but pain. He was close to passing out, but he knew what would happen if he did and damn him if he'd let that happen again. He let it happen before, but that was an accident. He thought he'd die. In a strange and twisted way, the Grimm saved his life.

Jaune didn't dare to even groan, fearing the wrath of his father. To literally kick him while he's down...

Why?

He'd asked himself that question every day of his life. Jaune knew he harbored a monster, but to go that far? He felt tears brimming at the edge of his eyes. Did he know...?

The van halted abruptly. Blurry eyes attempted to peer outside from where he was lying, but he could barely make out a shape, let alone a location.

"Out."

Heavy, gloved hands grabbed Jaune by the shoulder and basically hurled him outside into the mud. He tried to stand up, but was quickly pinned down by a gun.

Twice in one day. What are the odds?

"Make any funny moves, Grimm, and we'll shoot."

Jaune tried to glare, but once again, he could only see the bottom of buildings. They were far away from the forest he had been in, so no more trees filled his sight, which he was glad for. Instead, most of his vision was filled with small houses and some closed storefronts.

Ansel.

"Keep an eye on him, we don't know when he'll go berserk and wreck this place again."

The police officers weren't exactly gentle in their handling of him as they pulled him to his feet. He might not be a parcel labeled "fragile", but he also wasn't exactly in the best state concerning his body. Bruises, cuts, and oh! A gunshot wound from some criminal who decided to have fun with him instead of killing him outright. Still, they managed to overpower the Grimm. Somehow.

Jaune hoped he'd never see them again. That wound already made it hard to stand and would almost definitely scar, making it impossible to forget.

"Don't...you think you're too rough to him?" A timid voice asked. A seemingly young policeman peered down at him.

"You don't know the half of it, kid. Scram."

With a pitying look in his eyes that Jaune despised, the youth retreated back into the Ansel Police Department. Jaune had only been here once in his life, for the department to figure out what to do with him. It was his mother that came up with the idea of permanent house arrest. At least it was better than Father's idea...

This place held no good memories for him. And now they were probably gonna imprison him for life again, this time in actual jail. Jaune knew he should feel misery, but all he could feel was disappointment. Freedom was so close, but now it was going to be forever out of reach. Prisons had guards all over the place. This time, the Geist won't bail him out, not that he really wanted the thing to ever do that in the first place.

A flash of annoyance shot through him. Why was life so unfair? In a different life, had the Grimm never even touched him, he would have surely become a hero, a legend! But now he was never going to be able to know. Ever. He sighed heavily, earning himself a knock on the head in the process.

"Quiet, Grimm."

Jaune eyes watered slightly from the pain and he looked to the ground, trying not to let it show. What were they doing anyway, just standing outside staring at a building? Did they have doubts?

Nah. No way.

It was foolish to even hope that at this point. Still, his mind wandered to what was going to happen to him inside. Locked up and left to starve? No, he was sure the people in charge wouldn't let that happen, right? He still had his rights, right?

The creatures of Grimm don't have rights.

Jaune squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think of anything. It was better than thinking of something horrible, at least.

"Take him inside."

Three words. Those three words were harmless when alone, and could be harmless when they were together. To Jaune however, they weren't. A shiver ran down his back and his wounds began to ache. They hadn't forgotten the abuse. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Jaune's father looked him straight in the eye. Maybe it was foolish to do so, but he desperately tried to find any hint of warmth or sympathy within those blue, icy orbs. Anything that would give him a semblance of comfort. Anything!

There was nothing.

Nothing but an iceberg of frozen hatred lurked in the irises of Enciel Arc. Funny how many people used to call him Angel back in the day, as his mother once told him in his younger days, more innocent days.

He was doomed. There were no ifs or buts about it. Jaune knew his father. Imprisonment had failed, so he wasn't going to do the same mistake again. This was it. He didn't know what was going to happen to him, but it was definitely going to be worse than being stuck inside an uncomfortable cell with a bed and a toilet and a piece of bread and water a day, if that was even possible.

Handcuffs were placed around his hands after they were forcibly put behind his back without care. Jaune groaned, but tried to keep it down. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of pain, not in his...final moments?

Dear Gods, I hope this isn't the case.

Trying to distract himself, Jaune wondered why they didn't cuff him in the first place. Was it...fear? No, that couldn't be. Was it...

They wanted a reason to put me down.

Jaune sighed. He couldn't trust anyone, could he?

He was almost dragged into the building, his father taking the lead. Jaune's eyes snapped to his hip, where Crocea Mors was attached. Once a sign of hope, all it did now was fill him with even more despair and remorse.

Had he not tried to interfere with the criminals, he probably would've been over the mountains by now. Instead, he was being dragged into the unknown. God, he hoped it wasn't an execution or torture room he was being led to.

At this point I wouldn't even put it past them.

People working the nightshift stared at him as he squirmed. He tried to signal "help" with his eyes, but nobody interfered. Everybody, the secretary, officers, even the janitor mopping the floor. They all had a grim expression on their faces.

Haha, very funny, Jaune. Hilarious.

Eyes stared him down as he was led even further into the station. Jaune's eyes darted around, trying to find any chance of escape, but all he could see were posters of criminals, pictures of fallen officers, and random paperwork on the office desks. Nothing but windows could help him, but he wouldn't be surprised if those were proofed, to keep dangerous people, people like him, from escaping.

Eventually, the walk of dread came to an end as they entered a room. Jaune had only seen such a room in the criminal shows he secretly watched as a kid. It was a grey room decorated with nothing, holding only a single table and two chairs. A glass pane separated this room and the observation room. Jaune couldn't see through that piece of glass, so it was probably only see-through on one side.

"Urgh!" He exclaimed after being unceremoniously thrown onto the floor. The door shut behind him, leaving him alone in the room.

Or so he thought.

"Glad we're finally getting some quality time alone. We haven't seen each other in so long, after all. Don't you agree...son?"

Jaune felt a frozen shiver run across his back once again.

No no no no no no no no no no no!

Deciding to remain quiet, Jaune stared to the floor, unmoving as if that would help him any. As it turned out, it had the opposite effect.

"ANSWER ME!"

A kick to the groin launched Jaune into the wall. All air escaped his lungs as he gasped. For a second he thought he was going to die of lack of oxygen. The second after, he fell to his knees, painfully. He coughed with choking sounds, trying to refill his lungs.

Argh...dammit...

"Well? Answer me."

Jaune began to shiver and hated himself for it. Damnit, he wasn't supposed to feel fear! If anything, it would probably just make it worse for him. He should probably say something, anything!

I can't...

"Silent as ever, huh?"

From the footsteps, Jaune could hear his father pacing, his boots making a heavy stomping sound as they probably dirtied the floor with the mud from outside.

Where the hell is the police?

Jaune tried to see anything through the glass, but there was nothing, only the reflection of his father.

Staring right at him.

Jaune flinched and looked down again. Or rather, tried to.

"Look me in the eye, dammit!" Father yelled as he lifted Jaune off the ground with ease. His legs dangled uselessly below him as they tried to find solid ground.

Piercing blue eyes stared into softer ones.

"Tell me, do you enjoy tormenting me?"

Jaune's eyes widened as he shook his head vehemently. Tormenting him? What was he even ta-

"ANSWER ME!"

"N-no..." Jaune managed to choke out, voice as dry as a desert.

"Liar."

With that, he was thrown against the table, knocking it off its feet. Jaune felt pain explode across his back.

Damn...useless...aura...

Oh, right, his aura was completely depleted from that fight against Torch-whatshisface earlier that night. Speaking of which...

Jaune stared at his leg still leaking blood. It was a surprise he completely forgot about it, but he passed it away as stress. He was no doctor, so who knew what was the cause, really. Anyways, it really couldn't get worse now, could it?

A flash of light glared Jaune in his eyes. He shielded them instinctively.

Wait, the only source of light is a single lightbulb above, so what-

Crocea Mors' edge was pointed directly at his throat, the shining blade reflecting the light straight into his eyes. Jaune stopped every movement in his body as he stared at the blade he had once admired. The one he wished he could have wielded in his life. The sword that he would have carried into battle, roaring with valor as his partners charged alongside him.

This was the sword that would end him, wasn't it?

"You're a failure. My own personal failure," Father whispered, voice heavy. "You've brought me nothing but sorrow and the destruction of everything I held dear. You're a monster, not my son."

Jaune knew that. He knew all of that, yet the words stung him as if a thousand rapier wasps decided to target him with their stingers. He could even swear this hurt more than what Crocea Mors would bring upon him.

Jaune Arc was no more, right? This was the day Jaune Arc would die, right? By the hand of his own father, right? Father? Why would a father do this? Maybe he just wasn't his father, right? A father wouldn't do this, right?

Jaune's wild thoughts began to give him a migraine.

"T-the police," he managed to choke out, but Enciel just laughed.

"They? They're not even here. They allowed me free reign over your fate so long as I report it as an 'incident'. You see, as it turned out, the Grimm residing within you decided to go berserk. It was merely self-defense, nothing more."

Jaune couldn't believe his ears. Were the police really that corrupt? No, he was bluffing. Just lying. Nothing else.

Eyes darting around, Jaune tried once more to find an escape, even though there were no windows leading to outside. Still, he couldn't just give up, could he? He needed to stall.

"What about Rouge? Saphron? Vert? Zin-"

Jaune's eyes widened.

Oh no.

He messed up. He messed up horribly. Enciel had gone deathly silent, face frozen in disbelief. The seconds ticked by as they remained unmoving. Silence reigned in the room.

"You..." Enciel began to whisper. His voice held no emotion whatsoever, making it even more terrifying. Jaune held his breath, as if that helped any.

Well, I just sealed my fate, didn't I?

Jaune could almost laugh if that wouldn't earn him an even more painful death. How much more foolish could he be at this point? It must be the pain catching up to him. It was almost laughable. The despair, the anger, the hatred radiating off of Enciel...he could almost taste it. That's how bad it was.

Now would be a good time for my aura to return.

What was the rate of aura recovery anyway? Because it must have been quite a bit already, right? Then again, Jaune lost all track of time ever since he engaged that criminal. Because the next thing that's gonna happen will hurt without it.

"YOU BASTARD!"

Roaring like a lion, Enciel began to swing Crocea Mors in a wide arc, determined to chop off Jaune's head.

This is it. This is the end.

The wall blew open with a huge explosion.

POV Change

Roman had heard enough.

It took Neo quite a bit of time to assemble enough explosive dust to blast open the side of the Police Department, giving the master thief enough time to listen to the conversation. No matter what the police may say, their walls weren't exactly soundproof. He had urged Neo to hurry up after the conversation he heard become a tad too agitated for his taste.

He didn't do it for the sake of the boy. He just knew Cinder would be pissed if the kid were to die, likely taking the Grimm down with him. While himself had not been the target of Cinder's flames yet, he had seent he scars on those that defied her. You'd have to be a masochist to enjoy that. Worse than one even.

Roman knew he was going to face a huntsman, but he took precautions. He smirked.

My mission is not to defeat him, after all.

POV Change

Jaune coughed as the dust began to clear. His throat had been turned into a Vacuo desert as soon as the explosion ravaged the wall. He looked around, noticing Crocea Mors lying quite a reach away from him.

Saved. What are the odds?

Enciel was groaning on the floor, but he soon got up and grabbed the blade, staring at the gigantic hole now in the wall.

"My, did we interrupt something?" A flamboyant voice began to say, humor dripping. Jaune could almost groan.

Guess who's back. Just my luck.

The criminal he had faced earlier entered the building as the alarms began to blare. He seemed to look around in a bored manner, observing the rooms non-existent decorations.

"Who are you?" Enciel spoke, gripping the blade tight. The man began to bow. "Roman Torchwick, resident gentleman thief of Vale. It is an honor to meet you...whoever you are."

Enciel's eyes narrowed from what Jaune could see.

"This is not the time for jokes, criminal. Are you honestly daft enough to rob a police department?"

"I wouldn't exactly call myself daft. I'm just here to recover an order."

Torchwick's eyes met Jaune's. The boy flinched.

Great, he's here for me. Is there anybody who doesn't want to kidnap or murder me?!

"No. You will not have him," Enciel spoke in an absolutely serious manner, emotionless.

"Yes, I think I will," Torchwick whispered back, a smirk gracing his lips.

Jaune almost yelled, but couldn't as a cloth began to cover his mouth. His eyes darted around to see the little girl winking at him as she slowly dragged him outside. Maybe she thought she could sneak past Enciel, but she thought wrong.

"You're not going anywhere!" The huntsman roared and dashed forward, but Torchwick simply stepped into his way, blocking him off. The girl sped up and soon enough they were outside.

"Good job, Neo."

Jaune's eyes widened when he saw Roman Torchwick standing outside in the city, an airship behind him. The girl led him into it.

Wait, I'm being kidnapped!

Jaune tried to run off, but a cane pointing directly at him made him reconsider.

"Don't even think about it, boy."

As the airship closed its doors, Jaune could see Enciel striking down the Torchwick below, shattering him to pieces of glass.

The roar the former Angel let out could be heard far into the night.