Chapter Seven: Meet the Boss

"Pyrrha? Pyrrha. Psst."

At the sound of her name, Pyrrha slowly opened her eyes, squinting in displeasure as early morning light pierced her retinas. A shadowy figure leaned over her, blocking part of the offending window and she could recognize that ahoge anywhere.

"Morning, Alfred." Pyrrha murmured, sitting up and stretching. "Why are you in my room?"

America shuffled closer, hesitant, soft footsteps more like a nervous child's than his normal confident strides. His expression held similar shyness, his face scrunched and tense as he wondered if he had overstepped his bounds by invading her personal refuge. Did he expect her to yell at him and throw him out? The thought made Pyrrha's heart ache and she smiled, hoping to reassure him.

Alfred's features relaxed and he smiled back. "Tony and I made breakfast."

"Really?" Pyrrha glanced at the clock and saw it was only half past seven. "How long have you been awake?"

"A while. I'm an early riser." America said with a cheerful shrug. "Like I've always been?"

Did he intend for that to sound like a question? "You've never had trouble getting up in the morning," Pyrrha chuckled, and his uncertainty washed away like it had never been there. "Matthew, on the other hand…"

America pulled a face. "I know. I tried to wake him up before you but he sleeps like a log."

"I will help you rouse him." She decided.

Pyrrha got out of bed, considering her soft pink pajamas. America was not dressed either so she decided to stay in them for now. It was not something she did often, but she did not have school, training, or a mission to get to today. The champion's breath caught but she mentally shook herself.

I'll have things to do once I become America's bodyguard.

She followed America to the bedroom on the other side of his, not bothering to be quiet when opening the door. The loud squeak of the hinges and soft bang when it struck the wall did nothing to rouse the snoring twin on the bed. Pyrrha and America stared down at Canada, who slept obliviously with one foot sticking out from under his blankets.

"You've tried calling his name?" Pyrrha questioned, volume at a normal level for conversations. At his nod, she chuckled. "I believe your usual tactics are in order."

"What tactics?" America questioned.

Pyrrha headed for the door. "When I return, flip the mattress on top of him. I need to get a peace offering."

She headed down to the kitchen, one of the few rooms she could locate after eating a few meals there. The clean, tiled space was devoid of people except Tony, who stood on a stool and flipped some bacon on the stove. The alien nodded to her, then gestured at a corner where coffee was brewing. Pyrrha thanked him and poured a mug, heading back upstairs. America was still at his brother's bedside when she came back, his eyes zeroing in on the steaming mug in her hands. A grin split his face and he sniggered.

"I see." He hooked his fingers under the edge of the mattress, grin widening, and took a breath.

"RISE AND SHINE, BRO!"

America tipped the mattress and Canada with it, eliciting a shriek from his twin. The amnesiac nation left the bed on top of Matthew, cackling as he darted out of range of his brother's vengeful swipes. Canada's snarls would terrify an Ursa Major. His head poked out from under his mattress and he hissed like an angry cat, one violet eye open while the other remained blearily closed.

Pyrrha had to stifle her laughter as she crouched next to him, holding out the coffee. Matthew sniffed and snatched the mug, pulling himself out from under the mattress. Two gulps later and a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Canada glowered at them both, sipping his coffee indignantly.

"Why must you always do that?" he said grumpily.

"Because you'd sleep through the apocalypse if I didn't." America choked, red-faced as he tried to hold in his laughter.

Canada's moody glower severed Alfred's control and he flopped onto the fallen mattress, giggling madly. Matthew irritably jabbed his brother in the side, only causing him to laugh harder.

"I hate you." Canada said flatly. "I hate you both."

"Love you too, Mattie." America giggled. He rolled off the mattress, avoiding his brother's poke, and grinned at Pyrrha. "Let's go eat breakfast before it gets cold."

They headed back downstairs to see a nice spread ready for them. Bacon, eggs, sausage, juice, coffee, toast, and pancakes were laid out on the tabletop, with Tony patiently waiting for them to arrive. They sat and dug in, conversations flowing naturally as they ate. Pyrrha and America asked questions about Earth, Canada answered, America inquired about Tony's inventions, the alien explained, and the topics remained light and calm. It reminded Pyrrha of the peaceful days before the fall of Beacon, and for a moment, her fork quivered, causing her piece of pancake to slide off of the utensil and back onto her plate.

"Are you alright, Pamela?" Canada asked.

Pyrrha nodded. "Yes."

Violet eyes studied her solemnly. "Okay. We're here for you."

The painful twinge in the champion's heart eased. "I know."

They finished their meal, with America pushing his plate away first. "Man, I'm stuffed." He groaned. "We did good, Tony."

He and the alien high-fived.

Canada frowned at his brother, not as pleased as he was. "You didn't eat as much as you usually do."

America blinked. "Really? This was a lot to me." He chuckled. "I mean, I was living off rabbits and squirrels for a while back in Anima, so I didn't have a lot of food to eat and I kept fainting—" He twitched. "I mean, there weren't many options, haha…"

Creeeeaaaakkkk.

Pyrrha glanced at her fork and balked when she saw it was bent nearly in half. She hastily set it down. "I'm so sorry—"

"It's fine." Canada reassured her.

They started gathering up the plates and loading them into the dishwasher by the sink. For a time, there was no noise except the clink of ceramic and the occasional rush of water as it was washed of loose grime.

"So your President is coming over today." Canada said casually.

Pyrrha stiffened.

America froze. "…When?"

"Um…" Canada glanced at the clock. "…In half an hour."

The two stared at him for a long pause. Then America burst into motion, springing at his brother and grasping his shoulders. He shook his twin frantically, visible eye wild.

"How long have you known?!" he shrieked.

Canada winced. "Since yesterday."

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

"Because I knew you'd freak out."

"I'm freaking out more because you didn't tell me!" America snapped. He released Canada and gripped his hair. "What am I going to do? What's Pyrrha going to do? Oh, shit."

His panic was contagious and Pyrrha felt her own heartbeat quicken in response. Canada caught their urgency as well and rose to his feet.

"You two go shower." He ordered. "I'll lay out clothes for both of you. Tony, I'm sorry but could you clean up?"

"Okay." The alien said. "Hurry up, idiots."

They rushed off, the peaceful morning broken apart by their new deadline. Pyrrha showered as quickly as she could and blow-dried her hair, carefully pulling it back into a ponytail. She exited the bathroom to find an outfit laying on her bed, courtesy of Matthew. The Canadian must have picked it up in Rome along with the other clothes he had gotten her. Pyrrha hoped she could pay him back somehow.

The outfit consisted of a simple white dress shirt with grey slacks and a blazer, along with black dress shoes. Pyrrha tried them on, testing them for flexibility, and was pleased to find that they did not hinder her movements. The shoes were surprisingly comfortable as well. If she had to fight in these clothes, she would be more than capable.

I'll have to get used to it. My normal armor would attract attention here.

She exited the room and nearly ran into Canada, who had dressed into his own brown suit. He looked more comfortable in it than Pyrrha did, his curly hair neatly in place, though she supposed he was used to such attire, unlike her. Canada scanned her critically, then nodded to himself.

"Good. You look professional."

It hit Pyrrha then that she was essentially going to a job interview with the boss of a country in a couple minutes. She took a breath and exhaled, pretending she was simply meeting with a potential sponsor instead of the leader of a superpower. Her tactics worked and she calmed down enough to think about the upcoming meeting.

"Should I bring my weapon?" Pyrrha questioned.

"No." Canada said, not needing to say more.

"Should I mention Vale, Atlas, Aura, my Semblance, or the Grimm?"

"No. Leave those explanations to me." He said firmly. "Your job is to show them you are willing and capable of guarding America." His expression softened. "Even if they do not approve, you can stay with him anyway."

"I'd rather bodyguard him officially, and with their blessing." Pyrrha admitted. "I'm… Well, I'm an illegal alien from a world that has been hostile to their country. I do not want to antagonize them."

Canada clasped her arm briefly. "You won't. You'll do fine, Pyrrha."

His faith in her warmed her chilled limbs and she relaxed. "Thank you, Canada."

"How do I look?"

America exited his room. He wore a simple dark blue suit much like Canada's. Unlike Canada, he looked distinctly uncomfortable in the dressy outfit, preferring more casual clothes. Like Pyrrha, he tried a few kicks and punches, testing his mobility, but stopped and smiled sheepishly when Matthew glared at him. His stillness lasted exactly two seconds before America fidgeted and tugged at his white collar agitatedly, rubbing his eyepatch under his glasses with his other hand. Canada slapped his hands away, fixing them.

"Do you remember how to greet the President?" the violet-eyed twin questioned as he worked.

"Is a handshake appropriate or should we salute?" America asked nervously.

"A handshake is fine from you both. Make sure you're standing when he comes in." Canada informed them. "And address him as 'Mister President' or 'sir' unless he says otherwise. He probably won't."

"Understood." Pyrrha said.

America merely nodded.

They headed downstairs just as the ringing of a doorbell sounded through the halls.

Canada glanced at the clock and paled. "He's not supposed to be here for another ten minutes."

"It's not him. It's some other guys." America said, gazing in the direction of the door.

"They're probably Secret Service or FBI." Canada murmured.

"But you aren't certain." Pyrrha said. She quickened her steps, stopping America before he could approach the door. "I will answer. You go to the other room."

He opened his mouth to protest but paused, nodding sharply. "Okay."

Pyrrha smiled at him before smoothing her expression and looking at the security footage from the doorstep. Three men in black stood on the other side of the door, hands clasped in front of them, sunglasses on, and earpieces in their ears. She peered through the peephole, ensuring she had their positioning memorized, and then pressed the intercom next to the door.

"This is the residence of Alfred F. Jones. State your business, please."

The men glanced at each other before the front most man spoke. "We are with the government. We have an appointment with Mister Jones. Is he here?"

"I'd like to see some IDs, please." Pyrrha requested.

The men held up their identification cards to the security camera. One was from the FBI, one was from the CIA, and the third was from the Secret Service. Pyrrha scanned them for authenticity, and they did appear to be real. She pressed the intercom again.

"What weapons are you carrying?"

"Government-issued side-arms, ma'am." The man from the FBI said.

Pyrrha's eyes narrowed. She could sense they each had an additional pistol in holsters at their ankles. She debated on whether to inform them she knew or not, then decided it would be better to call them out now rather than let them think they had a secret gun. "You also have guns attached on your right ankles."

The men's expressions did not change.

"Yes, ma'am." The FBI agent confirmed.

"Are you carrying any other weapons?" Pyrrha asked coolly.

"No, ma'am." He said.

Sensing he was telling the truth, Pyrrha nodded, despite the fact they couldn't see her. "Very well. You may enter."

She put in the code and opened the door. Three sets of eyes scrutinized her but Pyrrha did not waver. She stepped aside and let them in, scrutinizing them ferociously while maintaining a stoic expression. Once they were inside, she locked the door and gestured down the hall.

"Mister America and Mister Canada are this way."

The agents followed her to their destination, and Pyrrha kept note of their positioning and steps. If one reached for a weapon, she'd know.

"Are you Ms. Nikos?" the CIA agent asked.

"Indeed, I am." She said levelly. "We were not expecting you."

"We want to make sure the place is secure before Mister President arrives." The Secret Service agent stated. "If you do not mind, we would like to ask you some questions."

"I will do my best to answer them, but Mister Canada is more aware of the situation than I." Pyrrha informed him calmly. Before they could try to ask any of their questions, they arrived at the meeting room door, to the champion's relief. "Here we are."

She opened the door, going in first and not allowing them a single second where they were closer to America and Canada than she was. The twins were identical images of calm, with not even Alfred showing the slightest twitch of nerves. Pyrrha could only hope she exuded a similar aura of control.

The Secret Service agent nodded to America, holding out his hand. "It is good to see you again, America. I apologize for not informing you of our visit. Ms. Nikos was quite adamant we answer some questions before letting us in."

America took the offered hand, shaking it once. "Ms. Nikos takes my safety very seriously."

The agent chuckled. "Well, you could have at least identified us for her to make things easier."

America's expression did not change. "I'm afraid that's impossible, seeing as how I do not remember you."

The agents balked. Canada and Pyrrha remained unmoved. The champion guessed the twins had discussed the topics each of them would reveal while she checked their guests, and mentally applauded their foresight. America couldn't look to his brother for assistance and advice now. Not if he wanted to avoid heightening his government's concern about his capabilities.

"You do not remember me?" the Secret Service agent asked, regaining his calm. "How much have your forgotten?"

"Almost everything." America said bluntly, voice completely level. "I know I am the personification of the United States of America, and I maintain my connection with my people, but much of my memory is unavailable to me at this time."

Pyrrha noticed the glance that passed between the agents. She scanned the room for anything metal she could pin them with, noting the metal clasps that kept their guns in their holsters. It wouldn't take much effort to hold their holsters closed.

"How did this happen?" the CIA agent demanded, glare shifting from Canada to Pyrrha.

The champion remained at ease, keeping her features neutral.

"It is a long story, and I would rather only tell it once." Canada informed him, cool tone daring them to argue.

The agents looked to each other, hands shifting slightly. Pyrrha recognized it as a code, but could not hope to decipher it. America watched their movements intently, visible eye narrowed in concentration. Finally, the Secret Service agent turned to the three while the FBI agent murmured into his earpiece.

"We will bring in the President now." The Secret Service agent said.

"Very well." America said calmly.

The Secret Service agent eyed him, the skin tightening around his mouth. "This had better not be a prank, Alfred."

The sound of his human name caused the nation to relax slightly and he shot the man an apologetic look. "I wish it was, dude."

The doorbell rang again. Pyrrha locked eyes with Alfred and he nodded. She left the room and headed back to the door, looking through the security feed. Nine men stood outside, with only the one in the middle lacking the sunglasses-and-earpiece combo the rest wore. She sensed their weapons, which included two guns each, and although she recognized the man in the middle from the pictures she had been given, she did not open the door.

"This is the residence of Alfred F. Jones. State your business, and I'd like to see some identification, please."

The agent on the President's right frowned. "You know who we are."

Pyrrha did not quail under his displeasure. "Indeed. I still need to see your identification before I let you in."

"We are the Secret Service accompanying the President." The agent said.

"Something I'm sure your Identification will clearly confirm." Pyrrha stated.

The man grimaced like he was trying not to scowl. "Listen here, you—"

"Just show her your IDs." The President interrupted.

The agents pulled them out and Pyrrha scanned them, knowing they'd be saved in the system if she needed to see them again at a later date. Satisfied, she opened the door and nodded slightly.

"It is an honor to meet you, Mister President. I am Pyrrha Nikos."

The President smiled and shook her hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Nikos."

His expression was calm, but she could feel him studying her intently. She did not mind, instead leading the President and his agents to America and Canada. She entered the room, and four agents came with her, checking the area before letting the President come inside with the remainder. America and Canada stood in front of their chairs and watched the proceedings without comment. It was only when the President stopped in front of him that America spoke.

"Mister President."

"America."

They shook hands, and the President's brow creased. "My agents have informed me you have amnesia?"

"Yes, sir."

The President sat down and the twins followed suit. Pyrrha and the agents remained standing.

The President ran a hand through his dark hair. "How?"

America did not answer, blue eye moving from agent to agent. "Do all of these men have clearance?" he asked bluntly.

The President did not mind. "Yes. They can be trusted."

America inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Only Canada knows the full story, sir."

They all looked to Canada. Without the slightest grimace or sign of discomfort, he began to explain. "Mister President, as you are aware, America and I were captured almost a year ago by people from another world. One of their national personifications was dying, and they intended to… use us to help her. They ran numerous tests on us—" Here Matthew's hands clenched into fists. "—and eventually discovered America was the more compatible of the two of us. They used a special machine created for such a purpose to transfer their nation's soul into America's body in order to save her."

The atmosphere in the room shifted at his revelation, growing tense. The agents' became stone, their anger wafting off of them like waves. The President gripped the arm of his chair tightly but did not interrupt.

"They were successful at ensuring the personification of that nation did not cease to be." Canada continued as if the Americans had not reacted. "Because of their efforts, America is now the personification of that nation and America, and lost a majority of his memories as a result of the… union."

"I think I understand." The President said levelly, but his green eyes burned like emerald flames. "Tell me, was that personification the representative of the people who took you both?"

"No, sir." America answered for his brother.

The President nodded, slowly. "I see." His green eyes narrowed. "I know you are leaving things out, Canada."

The Canadian did not flinch. "Yes, sir."

"Why?" the President demanded, voice low.

Canada met his glare. "The information is not relevant to you at this time."

"I think I can decide what is 'relevant' when it comes to my country." The President growled.

The agents tensed. Pyrrha remained outwardly relaxed, but noted their weapons, positions, and her own available arsenal again. Secrecy or not, she was not going to stand by and let these men attack her friends. Before the argument could get more heated, America stood, hands raised peacefully.

"Hey, let's all calm down." He said soothingly. He looked to his boss. "Don't blame Matt— Canada. I am the one who insisted we not share all the details with you, Mister President."

"Why?" the President asked again, less angry than before.

America met his glare with a stern look of his own. "Due to the amnesia, I'm not legally sound of mind. I cannot clearly reason what should be shared with you because of my inability to recall all the events that transpired. All I know is that what happened there can have grave effects on my people if inaccurate or the wrong type of information is shared and I refuse to risk them by giving you information skewed by my limited memories."

Pyrrha could scarcely believe the words coming out of Alfred's mouth. He sounded so sure of himself as he spoke of the implications and repercussions, reciting them in a calm, rational way that did not fit her image of the boisterous, flighty teen she knew. She did not show her surprise, but the agents and President certainly did, staring at America like he had grown another head.

America's boss frowned lightly. "You are certain about this?"

"Yes, sir." America stated.

The President mulled over his response before giving a short bark of a laugh. "You've forgotten almost everything, yet somehow remember the Sound Mind Law. Why must you always be so difficult, America?" Only the teasing edge to his tone stopped Pyrrha from tensing.

America relaxed, shrugging apologetically. "Sorry, sir. It's part of my charm."

"Of course." The President said dryly. His green gaze grew stern once more. "America's memories are returning?" At Alfred's nod, he continued. "Then I will not push you for answers if you agree to have a doctor monitor your progress and health. Once you are capable, we will speak of this again."

"Yes, sir." America and Canada agreed.

"I do have a couple more questions for now." The President said severely. "Is there a risk of the monsters from that world getting here?"

He knows about the Grimm? Pyrrha thought, struggling to keep her surprise off her face.

"England and Tony are working on something to prevent that, sir. Tony also has devices running to monitor for portal activity." Canada said honestly.

The President frowned but nodded reluctantly. His gaze flicked back to America. "Is this other nation affecting you negatively?"

America's face remained blank. "I am connected to m— Vale's people and receive feedback when Vale is attacked, sir."

Off to the side, Pyrrha saw Canada grimace, hand brushing his chest. When he saw her looking the discomforted look vanished and he gave her a small, reassuring smile.

"'Vale'..." The President's eyes closed, a pained look crossing his face. His sorrow made him look decades older and Pyrrha's heart went out to him. "I see. I'll inform the doctor. Thank you for telling me the truth." Green eyes sought out Pyrrha, who held them steadily. "Are you from Vale, Ms. Nikos?"

"I was not born there, but I was trained there, sir." Pyrrha said, ignoring the pounding in her chest.

"Canada informed me you are a warrior." The President said agreeably. "Why do you seek to protect America as a bodyguard?"

"It is my duty." Pyrrha stated. And he is my friend.

"Someone ordered you to protect him?" The President asked.

"A while ago, yes, but I have continued my mission as my own decision." Pyrrha informed him.

"Are you protecting him because he is Vale?" the President shot at her, echoing America's question from days ago.

"I am protecting him because he needs protection from those that would seek to harm him." Pyrrha said honestly.

"Are you associated with the nation that abducted America?" the President asked abruptly.

Pyrrha didn't blink. "No, sir."

"What would you do if I attacked America?"

"I would defend him, sir."

"What if the leader of Vale attacked him?"

"I would defend him, sir."

"What if the leader of your home country attacked him?"

"I would defend him, sir."

"What if your leader ordered you to harm him?"

"I would ignore those orders and defend America." Pyrrha stated. "Sir."

The President nodded. "I believe you. How did you gain this warrior's loyalty, America?"

"I don't know, sir." America said. He locked eyes with Pyrrha and winked. At least, Pyrrha assumed he winked because his other eye was covered.

"I should have guessed." The President held out his hand and one of the agents gave him a folder. He handed it to Pyrrha. "Here is your identification, passport, and paperwork, along with the documents for your employment as Alfred F. Jones' bodyguard."

Pyrrha blinked, gripping the folder. "I thought there was going to be a test?" she asked hesitantly.

The man coughed to hide his chuckle at her expression. "There is. You've got the basics down. My men just need to do a few physical tests with you and go over the training regime and you'll be golden." He smiled. "Congratulations."

She shook his hand, speechless.

The President's warm smile vanished and his eyes returned to Canada. "Send us what information you can about 'Atlas' and we will compile it into a decoy file for other nations' intelligence agencies."

"Yes, Mister President." Canada agreed steadily.

The President's green eyes glinted. "Although I do not know the whole story, I know enough that we will be making our own preparations in case more visitors decide to arrive." For a moment his gaze landed on Pyrrha, boring into her. "I hope we can trust your judgement."

Although he spoke to the room at large, Pyrrha knew there was a warning for her in there. If she did something they did not like, it would not end well for her. The champion kept her expression in check, revealing none of her unease.

"You can, sir." America responded for the twins.

The President's cold visage softened the slightest bit when at personification's reply. "I will contact your doctor and set up an appointment. Matthew—" Canada looked at him. "Please keep your brother out of trouble."

"Hey!" America squawked indignantly.

Canada jabbed him in the side with his elbow. "Always, sir."

The President smiled. "I'd better return to the office before the Senate or Congress get nosy. Don't worry; I'll keep your status under wraps for as long as I can."

"Thank you, sir." America said, his usual easy-going grin on his face.

The President chuckled. "Don't thank me, Alfred. You have plenty of paperwork to do once you've recovered."

He walked out as America groaned, putting his head in his hands. The agents all followed, with the original three lingering behind. The Secret Service agent handed Pyrrha a small card.

"Your test will be at this location. Don't be late."

With that, they left as well. Pyrrha, Alfred, and Matthew walked to the front and watched the cars outside leave. Canada flipped through the security feeds, spotting no one else on the property. The three walked back to the meeting room, searching it for any hidden bugs or devices, and found none. For a moment, they stood in silence, staring at each other.

Then Alfred slumped into a chair. "That was the most stressful thing ever."

Matthew slouched into another chair beside him. "That was nothing. Imagine having to do that with Congress and the Senate."

America winced. "I'm glad I don't. Dude, they kept staring at me like they found out I was terminally ill."

"They're understandably upset about your amnesia." Canada soothed his brother. "I'm just relieved you got the President not to push for answers."

"Hey, I was telling the truth there." America said defensively. "I don't know what to tell them and what I shouldn't, and it's not like I remember everything. I don't want to give the wrong story and have my government declare a war on Remnant because I misunderstood something."

Canada winced. "A war would definitely be bad."

"Is one likely?" Pyrrha asked worriedly.

Matthew caught sight of her pale features and shrugged helplessly. "I cannot say. It depends on whether we can show that something like this cannot happen again. If the United Nations or governments of Earth see Remnant as a hostile threat…"

He trailed off, but Pyrrha understood the implications clearly enough. Her stomach twisted into knots.

America saw her distress and gripped her hand. "Hey, don't freak out about it. The governments will probably be pretty chill if we don't dump Atlas' transgressions on them all at once."

"And like I said, England and Tony are working on a device that will stop forces from Remnant from getting here again." Canada said. "That'll help convince the Earth not to retaliate."

The implications of their conversation were too horrifying for Pyrrha to be completely put at ease, but her upset stomach did calm a smidgeon. "I think I understand. Thank you for thinking of such things. I did not consider the possible repercussions."

"Atlas didn't either. If they did, we wouldn't be in this mess." Canada muttered. His violet eyes softened before Pyrrha could respond and he stood. "Come on, let's get changed. I don't like to stay in these any longer than I have to."

America grinned like a loon and bolted from the room, unbuttoning his shirt as he ran.

"FREEEEDDDOOOOOOOMMMM!" he shouted, voice growing distant as he retreated.

"Don't you dare ruin that suit, Al!" Canada bellowed, racing after his brother.

Pyrrha followed at a slower pace, her folder gripped in both hands. A thought nagged at the edge of her mind but she pushed it away, determined to not even consider it. England and Tony were creating something that would stop Remnant from returning to Earth, and that device could spare her world from a vicious war with the people they had wronged.

But that didn't mean they were making it so a way back to Remnant was impossible. They wouldn't do that her. She would still be able to get home someday.

XXXXXXX

Haven Academy was not what Ruby expected. The architecture was beautiful, the halls welcoming, the gates grand, but all that awe was snuffed out as RNJR and Qrow walked deeper into the grounds. The school was quiet, far too quiet. There was not a single student or teacher to be seen, and what should be a bustling ground for Huntsmen and Huntresses in training and their mentors instead felt like yet another abandoned village.

Ruby forced herself not to think about the last abandoned village they had been in. She opened her mouth to call out to see if anyone was there but a sharp look from Qrow silenced her. Her uncle claimed all the students and teachers were absent, and Ruby was inclined to believe him. That left only Lionheart here, alone in his office while his students and colleagues were who-knew-where.

That sounds lonely, Ruby mused. She shook herself. But if we're right about him, he's the reason why.

She desperately hoped their suspicions were wrong.

The group entered the building and headed up to the Headmaster's office in silence. Jaune's fingers drummed on Crocea Mors, Nora held Magnhild, and Ren's hands rested on StormFlower's hilts. Ruby found herself touching Crescent Rose and grimaced, scanning the silent halls warily. The thought they might be walking into a trap struck her and she held her breath, listening for any unusual sound. None came, no enemies sprang from the shadows, and they arrived at the Headmaster's office. Qrow raised his hand and knocked once.

"Come in," a male voice said.

Qrow opened the door, waving. "Hey, Leo—"

"You!"

Jaune's shout startled Ruby, Ren, and Nora into action, weapons whirring into their close-combat forms as soon as they were free of their sheaths. Qrow tensed as well, sword out and ready, and the man behind the desk froze, hands slightly raised. He blinked at Jaune— the only one not to unsheathe his weapon— and went round.

"You're that boy!"

"You're that guy!"

The blond teenager and grey-haired man spoke simultaneously, the former wearing a shocked expression while the latter looked stunned— and horrified?

Qrow lowered his weapon, hands twitching towards the pocket that held his flask. "I see you've met." He said flatly.

"Yeah, this is the man who helped me find books about Mistral." Jaune told him easily. His grateful expression froze on his face, hardening abruptly. "You… already knew?"

The man took a breath, hand to his chest. "A moment, please." Once he gathered himself— and no longer looked like he was about to have a heart attack— he laid his clasped hands on the desktop. "Let's start over, shall we? I am Professor Leo Lionheart."

"This is Jaune, Ruby, Nora, and Ren." Qrow said briefly, red eyes narrowed. "What the hell, Leo? You knew Neopolitan is Mistral?"

Ruby cringed at the sound of her name but said nothing. Jaune put a comforting hand on her arm and she gave him a grateful smile.

The Professor winced. "It is not what you think, Qrow. I did not find out her identity for myself until after Beacon fell. By that time, I had no way to contact you to inform you." His gaze slid over the piles of papers on his desk and Ruby saw the dark bags under his eyes. "Nor have I had the time."

"Well it wouldn't be the first time you failed to follow orders." Qrow growled, unsympathetic. "Where are all the Huntsmen that are supposed to be guarding the Relic of Knowledge, Leo?"

Lionheart glared at him, but even his ire was hindered by his obvious exhaustion. "Where do you think they are, Qrow? They're out trying to defend this Kingdom. After everyone saw that poor girl torn to pieces—" Ruby flinched but kept her tears at bay. "—and Beacon under attack by the Grimm, panic spread through Mistral. It attracted the Grimm in droves, and we've hardly a single Huntsman to spare." Lionheart stood abruptly, slamming one fist into his desk as the other jabbed at the closed window. "All of my students and teachers are out there, Qrow! They're out risking their lives trying to keep towns from falling to the Grimm." His expression crumbled. "The ones that are left, anyway…"

Ruby's heart squeezed but she bottled up her grief. Qrow was unmoved by his colleague's sorrow.

"You know the Relic is more important, Leo." Qrow said sternly.

Lionheart laughed bitterly. "Please, tell the Council that. I could not request that Huntsmen and Huntresses— or the students— stay here, even if I wanted to. Besides, the Relic is safe. The enemy does not know Mistral's identity."

"They do." Qrow growled. "Which means Mistral is next on their list of targets." His eyes narrowed. "Why the hell did you decide to look her up after all this time?"

"I wanted answers." Lionheart said softly, and both Jaune and Ruby flinched. "And I hoped that Mistral would be able to help us somehow if we found her. However, while I was able to identify her, I could not locate her."

Qrow's furious visage faded and he straightened, crossing his arms. "You're in luck. We've figured out where Neo is. We've narrowed it down to Wind Path and Kuchinashi."

"You have?" Some of the weight lifted off Lionheart's shoulders and he stood with much more energy than he had previously. "We must retrieve her."

"Glad you agree." Qrow said lazily. "We could use some additional Huntsmen to help out."

Lionheart grimaced, his joy snuffed out like a dying candle. "That will take time. The Mistral High Council does not accept Neo's existence, nor do they know about the Relic. Unless you intend to inform and convince them of both, they will drag their heels and insist we use resources for more important missions."

"The Relic and Mistral are the damn most important missions there is." Qrow said. "You have to convince them, Leo."

"I can try, but it will take time." Lionheart said tiredly.

"We don't have time." Qrow snapped.

Ruby bit her lip, unsettled by her uncle's lack of tact. She knew he was blunt by nature, the Relic was important, and Lionheart may be playing them all for fools, but Qrow was being… well… mean. It sounded childish, even in the safety of Ruby's head, but a part of her wanted to tell her uncle to be nicer to Lionheart. The guy looked close to a mental breakdown.

"I cannot magically conjure up Huntsmen, Qrow." Lionheart said wearily. "But I will do my best. If you do not mind, I'd appreciate you leaving me to it."

"Fine." Qrow nodded sharply and turned on his heel.

"Wait." Jaune blurted. He stopped in front of Lionheart and bowed slightly. "Thank you for pointing me to those books, sir. They helped a lot."

A few of the stress-lines on Lionheart's face eased and he smiled. "You are most welcome, young man. I am glad they assisted you."

RNJR and Qrow left, and the door shut behind them. For a time, none of them spoke.

Then Qrow scoffed. "Leo's acting shady."

"Is he?" Nora questioned. "'Cause to me you were kind of acting like a jerk."

She shrugged unapologetically when he glared at her.

Qrow huffed. "Leo's used to my attitude. And he knows how important the Relic and Mistral are."

"Maybe he has other priorities." Ren suggested calmly. "His Kingdom is in trouble and he did not have a way to contact you once the CCT tower went down."

"Hmm." Qrow grunted, disbelieving. His red eyes settled on Jaune and Ruby. "What do you think, kids?"

"He seemed tired and stressed." Ruby mentioned.

"I noticed that too." Jaune added. "I'm not sure if I trust him, though."

Ruby's eyebrows shot up. "What? B-But you thanked him."

"That doesn't mean I trust his word." The knight said gravely.

As Ruby tried to process that, Qrow chuckled, shaking his head. "At least one of you is suspicious."

"Yeah, I've learned not to take superiors' claims at face value." Jaune said stiffly.

Ruby recalled what he had told her earlier and grimaced. She didn't want to believe more information was intentionally being kept from her. Qrow and Ozpin weren't keeping more secrets. They just hadn't gotten around to talking to her about how she disintegrated those Grimm yet. That was all.

"So what do we do now?" Nora asked.

"We prepare." Qrow said. "Once we have what we need, we'll search ourselves, with or without the Council's permission."

"Isn't that illegal?" Ruby asked.

"We're going to a city that runs on illegal, kiddo." Qrow reminded her. "I don't think they'll care."

"So nothing's changed." Ren said.

"Except we don't have additional help." Nora pointed out.

"That is why you'll be using the time before we go to train." Qrow informed them. "Unless I can find some old friends, we're on our own, which means you four will have to pick up the slack. We might face some heavy hitters in those cities."

"We'll be ready." Ruby promised as Jaune nodded in silent agreement.

She would keep that vow.

They wouldn't lose anyone this time.

XXXXXXX

A/N: Must… be strong. Must… keep to schedule.

I have that feeling that I forgot something again. Shoot. What is it?! Is it even for this story?! *siiiiiiggggghhhhhhhh*

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