Solid boots stamped down onto the burnt grass, crushing the dead leaves underfoot with each stride. The steps had a rhythm to them, suggesting a bit of order amidst the chaos. The inhuman roars of the Grimm echoed through the night sky of which was covered in a black sheet of smoke. Red hot flames sprang forth from every single orifice that the small village had to offer. A hazing heat filled the air, choking and strangling the life out of anyone who drew close. The roaring and crackling of the flames overrode all other sounds, even the screams of the pour inhabitants. And yet despite the blazing heat, a young man who hid beneath a small tree shivered.
Fingers coiled into the ash-covered grass, Jaune pressed himself tighter against the bark, eyes tightly shut, trying to ignore the fire licking at his skin. Gunfire crackled thought the skies, bright muzzle flashes lighting up the night. Screams came afterward. The minutes rolled by. One by one, screams died down into wet gurgles, then nothing. He clutched his knees, jaw quivering, eyes closed tightly. After more minutes ran by, the screams died, until there was nothing but dead silence. Not a sound, not even crackling fire. Nothing but footsteps. Footsteps coming directly towards him.
Thud. Thud. Thud. The steady verbatim made Jaune's heart hasten with each step. A shadow loomed overhead, getting bigger and bigger. Out of the shadows stepped a man cloaked in a drenched black coat, hood over his head. Blood caked the coat so thickly that it stuck to his large form, dripping steadily onto the charred grass. Azure eyes gleamed through the darkness of the hood. Jaune pressed himself further against the tree, almost to the point where the bark was starting to snap, fear creeping up his system.
The figure bent down towards Jaune, while he tried to scramble away. There was nowhere to crawl to. Nothing more than a collection of dead, burning trees. Words couldn't escape his throat. Blood from the figures hood dripped onto his cheek. In a slightly higher than he expected voice, the voice spoke to him. "Jaune… please tell me you're still you."
Jaune cocked a brow. "What do you mean?" He gasped.
"Just answer the question." The figure said in a low tone. "You are still you, right? Still Jaune Arc?" There was impatience in his tone, but something else too. Desperation maybe? Fear? That didn't sound right coming from a figure like that.
"I… yeah? I guess." Juane rasped, wiping the drops off of his face. "Just why? What are you? This doesn't make any sense!"
"Just listen. Please." The figure flipped his hood up, blonde, bloodied hair spilling out. Jaune gaped in shock at his own eyes, his own hair, his own face that he was staring at. "Please help me."
The world rumbled around him. Black fire billowed out, casting over everything in sight around him. The heat and pressure were so intense, he shut his eyes. Jaune suddenly felt a sharp sting on his cheek. His eyes snapped open, and the world was still rumbling, no, bouncing more like. Jaune was flat on his back, eyes wide, staring at a metal roof.
"Are you finally awake?" Blake demanded, looking rather miffed. She sat by the cargo door of the truck they stowed away on. "So much for keeping watch."
"Um… sorry?" Jaune said weakly, wiping the sweat off of his brow. That nightmare was intense to say the least, not just from what he saw, but what he felt. Everything felt so real. Dreams always ran from those who drempt. You'd never remember them. But Jaune? Every detail was crystal clear. That fact alone scared him more than anything else. "Hey, uh, I wasn't saying or doing anything while I was sleeping, right?"
"You mean aside from trying to grope me in your sleep?" Blake simply asked. Jaune sucked in a breath. "Yeah, you did that. Don't sweat it. It's not like you were trying to jump me. You would've have survived the attempt." She brushed herself off, and reallined her bow. With the sunlight creeping through the steel door frame.
"Even so, sorry." Jaune muttered, leaning back against the wall, feeling red creep up his face. "So… uh, did I miss anything?"
"No." Blake deadpanned back.
"Oh, okay. Nothing to worry about then. I'll just be over here." Jaune awkwardly said, staring at the floor. Then the awkward silence kicked in. Jaune was no less accustomed to it. Conversations were never his strong suit. Somehow, the craziest, weirdest things would always come out of him, and people generally didn't know how to grasp it, Ruby included. Blake wouldn't even look at him, her mindset permanently stuck in 'mission mode' as he liked to call it. Still, there was no hope in sitting on his hands and waiting for her talk.
"Hey, Blake?" He managed. She didn't even grunt back. One of her cat-ears did twitch in his direction though. "Well, uh… have you… do you… Yeah, I've got nothing. Sorry for wasting your time." This time she did grunt back, then went back to staring at the wall. And on went the silence. Well, time for the last resort. Endlessly stare outside until you find something to talk about. If it worked on his sisters, it should work on a faunus with a hard life, right? "Could you back up a bit? I'm gonna open this thing for a bit. I need some air."
Blake obliged, backing up from the door. Jaune gripped the underside, and forced it open. Wind was flung right in his face, as well as devastatingly bright sunlight. Jaune suddenly lurched forward with a sharp cry, face nearly scraping the open road. Something wrapped around his waist, and hoisted him back up again. Was that Gambol Shroud's ribbon? He looked back to see Blake glaring at him, holding her weapon taught.
"Idiot. Do you know anything about momentum?" She seethed, yanking back onto his rear.
"Clearly not as much as I should." Jaune rasped. "Thanks a bunch."
She nodded back, then went back to her corner, blanking him out. Jaune sat on the edge, legs dangling over the side, heels skidding every so often on the road. Signs past by, with nothing notable to speak about. Insurance deals, realestate billboards, whatever business-type sign or post that demanded more attention than he was willing to give. Nothing interesting to talk about by any means. There was a pets billboard offering toys for dogs and cats. That gave him an idea.
"Hey, Blake, do you ever like playing with toys?" He asked curiously.
"What kind of toys?" She asked, ice in her undertone. Jaune gulped. There was definitely a nip somewhere in there. It didn't take long to figure out why.
"I mean, uh… like dolls, action figures, plushies and such." Jaune said quickly.
"Really? You couldn't have meant pet toys right?" Blake asked, glaring at him.
"No, no, no! That just gave me the idea of something to talk about, I swear! I mean, look at that thing? It just screams the word 'toy', right? Doesn't it to you? I mean, what do you… uh…" Jaune trailed off. Blake stared at him for a bit as if he had gone insane, which at this point, he probably has.
"Jaune, what species are you?" Blake asked with a scoff.
"Something endangered by his own stupidity." He muttered. "What? I'm not good at this. What do you-" The truck suddenly lurched forward, Jaune's quick instincts making him grip the underside to make sure he didn't fly out suddenly. "And we've stopped… that can't be good."
Jaune bit his lip. Did the driver notice the door was open? What if he saw them? They had gone federally rouge at this point. What would they do if he called the cops on them? The very thought of another showdown with the Atlas forces made him sweat. The truck shifted ever so slightly, squeaking a bit, rumbling to a stop. The driver door slammed shut. Jaune swore under his breath, head darting to anywhere he could hide.
Before he knew it, Blake's small, yet strong, hand seized around his hood, and yanked him back. He dangled behind her like a kite, before shoved into a wooden box, with Blake piling over him and slamming the top shut. She planted himself flat against his chest plate, hand flat against Jaune's mouth. All was silent until the driver stepped into the back, making the entire surface wobble. He muttered a few things, walking from box to box, until he reached theirs. Jaune tensed, heart skipping a beat when he made the crate creak.
"How the hell that door opened is beyond me…" The driver muttered angrily. "These damn trunks are older than the gods. I don't get paid enough to keep dealing with this shit." He fiddled with the top of the crate before kicking the bottom with his boot, and leaving, shutting the door behind him. They both waited a tad before speaking again.
"Do you think we're in the clear?" Jaune asked, anxious to get out.
"Probably. Lets try ditching this truck before the driver notices anything else." Blake said, pressing her hands against the crate top. It wouldn't budge. She tried again to no avail. She shook her head with a sigh.
"Oh c'mon!" Jaune whined. "... Is this a bad time to tell you I need to use the bathroom?" Blake groaned, pressing herself against the wall, giving up to the situation.
Secrets were nothing foreign to Ozpin. Keeping the weight of eternity on your shoulders tended to make you keep your guard up. Even at the risk of hypocrisy. Despite being on of the most powerful men in the world, there was always a crisis, a world ending disaster that he could never stop or prevent. There was always something that creeps under his nose, or goes through his defenses before he can react. It always ends in chaos and death, and there was nothing he could do. That was why he was ready now. He was prepared. He would not lose the world to him again.
The scenery astounded him, despite him seeing it for so many years now. It was a simple clearing in the forest, wide and spacious, grass barely reaching your ankles. There was a lake in the middle, with a quiet, clear waterfall pooling into it. The color and vibrancy got better every time he stepped into this peaceful place, with the colors reflecting off the water, shimmering in the light. A small rainbow curled over the top of the waterfall, adding to its beauty. The old hunter walked slowly to the fall, and dipped his finger inside, letting it trail down his finger.
With his touch, the water's intensity increased, a blue aura radiating from its girth. Along the center, images formed, almost like a transparent screen. Glimmering images of a young man fighting against a demonic, winged Grimm with the face of a fiery jack-o'-lantern. A boy with lengthy blonde hair, striking blue eyes, broken armor, sword and shield. The effort and strain on his face was evident. There was so much fear in his eyes. So much desperation. The scene kept changing while the fight remained the same.
And then, there was always one. That one image that he had to prevent. The image of it trapping the poor man down and pouring its essence into him. Choking him. Corroding him. The whites of his eyes turned black. As the beast flew away, leaving him be, Jaune slowly stood and roared, a black haze pouring from his mouth. Ozpin grimaced, slashing away at the image with his bare hand, with a heavy sigh.
"Another line and nothing changes." The spring rippled as a deep, growling voice came from it. Ozpin stood his ground, glaring at the waterfall.
"This proves nothing. The tide can still be turned. It has happened twice before." Ozpin stated calmly.
"Two lives out of thousands. Can you not see that there is no hope for this boy? No hope for your world one he falls?" The voice rumbled. "I have seen many deaths. Many lives. So many attempts but nothing to show for it."
"But he is starting to remember." Ozpin said, raising his glasses. "Whether it be lingering memories, or events of what's to come, he is starting to notice that not all is quite right with his life. Sooner or later, he will know everything. And when he does, this world will be saved. I am certain."
"At the very least, you are." The voice said. "I, for one, need certainty. I cannot see another future where he will succeed. Whether he does or not is up to him. But fate is not on his side. Know that, Osma." The voice echoed, then ceased, the images fading away to nothing but the waterfall. Ozpin hoped he was right. That he could depend on Jaune. But then again, what choice did he have?
Well, Jaune couldn't say he's been in tighter spaces before. Being tall became a curse. He was folded up with his back against one side, and his knee against the other, with Blake bent on top of him, her back arched so she wouldn't lean on him. She was clearly straining herself to stay upright. Jaune scoffed. Was he that repulsive to be around? Was it his breath? It's gotta be his breath, right? Too bad he couldn't pack his toothbrush on the run from Johnny Law. "You know, you can relax, right? You're gonna hurt your back staying up there."
Blake sighed, giving up the losing battle against her back, and laid down onto his chest-plate, head at the crook of his neck. At the very least, she had the sense not to tense up and make it worse. The close contact was something strangely nice and inviting. There was that urge to hug her to death creeping around the back of his head. No use acting on it though. He'd get his face clawed off if he even tried. Even so, the way she shifted, the way she breathed, he could feel her trouble, her stress. That fear that everything could go wrong, and she'd lose everything. He wished he could say something to help her. Anything.
But there was nothing. He couldn't hope to relate to her because he'd never been hated, or not accepted. The best he could do was hold her and comfort her until he could find something. But right now, there was one problem on his mind that he had to get off of his chest. "Hey Blake, hypothetically, if you ever had a dream where you burnt down everything you know and love, then looked at yourself and begged for help, what would you think when you woke up."
Blake tilted her head up to face him, brow cocked. "I'd sign myself into a psych ward." She narrowed her eyes. "Why? Do you have something you want to tell me?"
"I just… don't know." Jaune muttered. "I spent years being a complete screw-up at everything. I was just never any good at anything. People hated me for it. But… suddenly, it's like I don't even know myself anymore. I fight like a pro one second, then I'm back to normal the next. I'm getting these weird dreams, seeing different versions of myself in different worlds. Its like… something's calling me, and trying to tell me something."
"Who knows. Maybe." Blake said, shrugging as best a she could. "I have my destiny, you have yours. Maybe your's is calling you in its own way."
"I never did believe in destiny." Jaune said. "It just feels too convenient to blame problems on fate… and are you really trying to try philosophy with me? Jaune Arc, comic book xtrordinair?"
"If men in rags years ago can argue stuff like that, I'm sure you can, Jaune." Blake said, leaning her head back down.
Jaune chuckled. "Maybe… okay, claustrophobia is kicking in. I need out of the damn box." Desperately, he fidgeted and pushed against the box. Blake squeaked as he rubbed up against her. "Oh crap, sorry. There's no room in here."
"I can see that." She hissed, pushing further down onto him, hopefully stopping him from moving. "Look, we might have an hour left of this damn trip. The moment we st-" The entire truck broke to a halt, making Blake fly forward and headbutt Jaune straight in the skull. Both cried out in pain with Blake ending up with a decent sized bruise on her head. "... we've stopped again?"
"Great, where are we now?" Jaune muttered, pressing his ear against the side of the crate instinctively. Absolute silence. Blake froze over him, closing her eyes, finding something to hone in and focus on. A familiar throb in his head drove all focus out of him. He flinched, rubbing his temple. A shaking feeling sunk in. Something was coming. Something dangerous, and that he knew all too well. Then, almost as if an alarm bell rang in his head, he gripped Blake tightly, and brought her close to him, much to her displeasure.
A five pronged white claw tore through the metal truck like a knife through hot butter. The top of the box shattered into splinters, shearing half of the box with it. Bright beams of sunlight peered through the newly made lines in the metal. The hunters in-training didn't waste time. Both of the shambled out of the box, tumbling over each other, cutting through the rest of the destroyed metal scraps, and bashing through the sheets and onto the hard gravel.
Another alarm bell rang in his head. Jaune dropped on top of Blake, flattening her to the road as the claws tore apart the rest of the truck. Flames sprouted out of its front. Swears flew out of Jaune's mouth. He rushed off of Blake, helping her to her feet, and ran to the ditch where they took cover. The truck exploded shortly after, shrapnel and heat flying out rapidly. He peeked his head over the ditch, biting his lip at what he saw.
A bipedal demonic Grimm sat atop the flaming pile of molten, crumpled metal, claws digging bending it under its grasp. Black tar, and blood, dripped in trails from is jack-o-lantern esque face, a black haze spilling out with it. White, boney, bat-like wings spread out in a massive span as it roared, no, shrieked, making Jaune have to cover his ears to try and shut it out. Impaled in its claws was the driver, or what was left of him. The Grimm cast him aside with one swing, throwing the bloody corpse across the road, and into the ditch. Jaune turned away, finger caught in his teeth, biting down to keep his cool.
"What kind of Grimm is that?" Blake rasped, pressing back against the grassy ditch. "I've never seen anything like it."
But I have.
Jaune was prepared to say that, but that would spark more questions than answers. Answers that Jaune didn't have. Where and when he'd seen this thing didn't matter. What mattered now was survival. "I dunno. It just looks like any Grimm. A Grimm that'll pin us down and eat our livers if we don't get going."
"Do you really think we'd be able to hide from this thing? It's got the high ground." Blake muttered, keeping an eye on the Grimm. The area around them at least had enough variety for options. Ahead of them was an open plain, with a lot of room for movement, but nowhere to hide. On the other side of the road was the start of a small forest, leaving a contrast.
"Maybe we should-" Jaune was cut off by a forked tail raking across the dirt, carving a small ridge between them. Dirt and gravel sprayed in a massive spread as the ground tore apart. Instincts took over, making Jaune roll down the ditch, and stumbling into the field, sword drawn. Them moment his feet hit the ground, the Grimm's large scaly hand had already seized around his waist, and lifted him off the ground, bringing it closer to its disgusting face. Fear constricted him more than the Grimm did. The only thing he could manage to say was the first absurd thing that came to his head. "... please don't eat my liver."
The Grimm gave its sickest impersonation of a grin, then flung Jaune over its head with enough force to send him over the ditch, bouncing off the flaming wreck, and back-first into a tree that faltered and cracked. Pain wracked up and down his back, aura working double-time to fix whatever damage was caused. A shadow loomed over him before he could catch his breath. Against his will, his head jerked down hard enough to pop his neck just as the rapier-like talons impaled the bark above him. He barrel rolled out of danger as a rapid spray of bark rained down.
Teeth grit, heart pounding, head rushing, he charged forward, Crocea Mors tight in his hand. The Grimm scythed its arm, claws stretched out. He raised his shield just in time for the claws to bounce off the metal, screeching and letting down a shower of sparks. Using the force to slide to the side, Jaune dragged his sword across its thigh, extruding black mist. Minutes went by as Jaune fought his hardest, rolling, cutting, and blocking as much as he could. There was no headway however. No matter how many times he struck, the Grimm wouldn't quell. Finally, nearly out of aura, and completely exhausted, Jaune's knees buckled at a final it.
The Grimm raised its forked foot, and stomped down onto Jaune's chest-piece, pinning him to the ground and knocking the wind out of him. Weary and gasping, he tried in vain to push the Grimm's foot off as it loomed its head over his. Slowly, a black haze pooled from its mouth, showering over Jaune's face. The mist felt burning hot against his skin, aura protecting him from wounds. Panic and fear started to set in when he was forced to breath it in. He coughed and gagged tasting the rancid haze, his throat burning. His eyes rolled back as the world soon grew faint. The last thing he heard was a short battlecry before the darkness took over.
It was always the strangest things in life that wakes you up. It wasn't the pounding rain against the windowpane, cracking thunder from above, or roaring, whistling wind that woke him up, nor was it the rapid movement and objects crashing onto the floor. No. What ended up waking him up in the end was the little squeak of his companion. The first thought when opening his eyes surprisingly wasn't 'where am I', or 'how did I get here', or even 'how the hell am I even alive'. His first thought was really 'who the hell let a cat in my room?'
The wooden cabin ceiling creaked above him, brown dust raining down every once and awhile. Groggily, he brushed his face, wiping the dust off. Through the window, he noticed it was dark out. As expected, pain wracked his body from various bruises and scratches he got from that Grimm. What he didn't expect was softness under him. Was he in a bed? And now down to the obvious questions, starting off with the loveliest essensial, how the hell was he still alive?
"So, you're finally awake?" Blake said at his side. Jaune tilted his head carefully to see Blake sitting on a stool, staring over him, book in hand, covered in sweat.
"Yeah, I guess s-" Jaune cut himself off, hiding his surprised cry with a cough, looking away, beet red. That look she gave him was priceless, almost demanding why he was acting like she grew a third eye. What was Blake giving him that look for? No shirt. She had no shirt on. White chest bandings protected her from being non-child friendly. What girl would be nearly topless in front of who she thought was a stranger? Did he also mention that those bindings were wet and loose, on the verge of falling off by the strap, and even see-through at some points?
Blake cocked her head in confusion, then looked down and sighed. "The Grimm knocked me out after it sent you flying. When I came too, it was pinning you down, spitting some black mess into your mouth." Jaune gulped, clutching his throat. "I fought back, and it retreated. Then of course, rain came out of nowhere. I dragged you here. Don't ask who owned this cabin. I have no idea."
"And your shirt?" Jaune asked curiously.
"Rain. I didn't want to get a cold. By the way, you're really starting to fill out. I'm impressed." Blake said offhandedly. Jaune's blood ran cold when he looked down. Nothing but a black shirt and boxers. He squealed and draped the blanket back over him, somehow getting even more red. He gulped, burying his head in a pillow in embarrassment.
Blake spent quite a bit staring at the floor, deep in thought. Minutes went by before she spoke again. "You do realize how much danger we're in?" Jaune shrugged. "I have no idea how long we'll be out and about. Everyone's after us. Everyone. We can't trust anyone anymore."
"Yeah, I figured." Jaune said with a sigh. "Could you just remember something for me? Just keep this in mind?" Blake nodded. "Just know that you still have friends and people who love you. Yang's with you all the way, no matter what. I see that in you two. The friendship you have with her is something that I don't think I'll ever have. Ruby, Weiss, their with you too, every step of the way. Please don't forget them." Blake opened her mouth, but Jaune cut her off. "Don't say anything. Just take it in, okay?" She stared at him for a bit, then nodded slowly. "Great… now, I'm curious about that book. What's it about?"
A ghost of a smile slowly appeared on her face. She hip-checked Jaune's shoulder, making him scooch over so she could sit next to him, opening her rather large book in front of him. "Well, it starts off with a girl moving into a new town, where she meets a pale-faced, cold skinned beautiful man…"
Ooh, he just knew this was gonna be a doozy.
Alright, down to business... first, I want to apologize. First, laptop crashed, then got a new one for Christmas. I come back to find my entire PM page up in flames. Apparently, a lot of Whiterose and Bumblebee lovers have been Private messaging me speech long stuff to show how deluded I am, insulting me and basically saying my ships are shit. To those doing that, please stop. I respect your ships, you respect mine. That's all I ask. And then, after the latest episode, I got hit again with another truck load of hate mail. It got out of hand and I just lost motivation for a little bit. I'm fine now, I just needed some time.
Anyhow, some good news. Every monthly update will come with an additional one-shot, just little ideas that I have in the mix that I don't want to make into a full story. In addition, I will be making two valentines day one-shots for Lancaster and Blacksun. Review what you think, and anything you want to say. They really help me out. Thanks and goodnight.