Weiss stared down at her scroll, squinting from the near-blinding brightness of the screen in the dark of the balcony.
They found Blake. She left when they turned violent.
She'd read the message at least a dozen times (likely many more), and yet she couldn't look away.
The biting cold of the night air was harsh on her throat as she took deep, shuddering breaths. It hurt all the worse knowing she had no one to blame but herself.
Wasn't this why she had come to Beacon? To prove to herself that she was more, that she was better than her father? And yet, prejudice had coloured her perception. She had taken one look at that faunus boy and immediately believed the worst of him. She'd criticised and attacked until she drove Blake to divulging a dangerous secret.
She'd driven away the first people she truly considered friends.
She had failed, utterly and miserably.
"Weiss..?"
She whipped around with a startled gasp. "Pyrrha," she returned shakily. "What-what are you doing up here?"
"Looking for you," she answered with a soft smile.
"Pyrrha, I… I'm sorry. What I said, it was so wrong. I saw Ren's message and I've been working on fixing it and I just- I just don't want to be like him."
"Weiss," Pyrrha said gently, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder gently.
"I know what I said was terrible," she continued, voice wavering, "I know and I want to fix it but I don't know if I can,"
"Weiss..." Pyrrha said again, her voice growing firmer.
"I know I've been a terrible leader - I thought I knew, I thought I was ready, but I'm not and I'm always so scared that I'll make a mistake and that one of you will get hurt-"
"Weiss!" Pyrrha interrupted, placing her other hand on Weiss' other shoulder and spinning her so they were face to face.
Weiss gasped as Pyrrha pulled her into a hug. "That's not true," she denied. "The leader I know is smart, and brave, and strong, and I'm so grateful to have her as a friend."
Weiss tried, but it was a losing battle from the very beginning. Tears sprung forth from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, as she held on to her partner desperately.
"I know you didn't mean to cause what happened, and I'm so, so sorry that I brushed off what had happened to you. Regardless of what you said, that was wrong of me, and I hope that you can forgive me." Pyrrha's face had settled into a mournful expression. It wasn't a plastic smile, a fabricated frown, not a fake like what Weiss was used to; it was pure, sincere regret.
"No, Pyrrha, you don't need to apologise. I needed to hear it," Weiss hurriedly refuted.
"I do," Pyrrha said, holding Weiss tighter. "I'm sorry," she said again, "I'm sorry I pushed you away, I'm sorry you had to go through all of that, and most of all, I'm sorry you didn't feel comfortable telling us before," Pyrrha said earnestly, tears brimming in her own eyes, "You think you've been a bad leader, but I think the truth is that I've been a bad partner," she finished shakily.
"No! No, Pyrrha, no. You've been a wonderful partner, and I wouldn't have anyone else."
Pyrrha sniffed. "Look at us," she said, "Now we're both crying. I think this is about as far away as is possible from what I wanted when I came out here."
Weiss gave a wet laugh. "I'm not sure that's entirely correct," she whispered, holding tightly. "Thank you Pyrrha, for being my friend."
"Thank you Weiss, for being mine," she whispered back.
They stayed that way for a few minutes more, giving themselves time to reign in their rampant emotions.
"What are you going to do now?" Pyrrha asked, pulling away. There was no question as to what she was referring to.
"I'm going to make things right."
"Would you be so kind as to explain what you were doing at the docks earlier tonight?"
Roman rolled his eyes. "Do you really expect me to just cough up all the juicy details?" he sneered.
"You're a selfish man, Roman," Qrow said factually, his arms crossed as he leaned against the back wall.
"That I am," he affirmed with a small nod.
"And you mean to tell me that you wouldn't rat out those guys for even a chance at a lighter sentence?" Qrow continued.
Roman laughed. "Oh, I would, if I even remotely believed that I wouldn't get taken out before I could finish saying 'freedom'."
Ozpin leant forward, interlocking his fingers as he placed his elbows on the table. "They say there is no honour among thieves, but I daresay you're the exception to that, Mr. Torchwick. You steal and rob, but the most damage you've left is broken windows and small bruises. We can keep a man like you protected, should you cooperate."
Roman snorted. "Maybe from the general riff-raff, but not from her."
Qrow stiffened and Ozpin straightened. "Her, Mr. Torchwick?"
"Yes, her. If she finds out I gave up anything, she'll burn my ass to a crisp. And I do mean that literally." Roman glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room warily. "You have no idea what she's capable of."
Ozpin's eyebrows furrowed in thought, then a moment later he lowered his hands below the table once more and turned to the police chief. "Wipe the tapes of our discussion up until this point," he instructed, before turning back to Roman.
"Come now Mr. Torchwick, surely you know the position you are in. If you cooperate, I assure you that you will get a much lighter sentence," Ozpin offered.
Roman offered a subtle, but grateful, look. "You're not getting anything from me; I'm no snitch," he lied.
Ozpin sighed loudly. "I'm not quite sure what you expect, Mr. Torchwick. I can say with certainty that you won't be getting out. In a station filled with police, and two professional Huntsmen? You wouldn't have a chance."
Roman glared at him silently.
Ozpin watched him for a moment, but his gaze didn't falter.
He sighed again, before standing from his chair. "I don't think we'll be making any headway tonight. It would appear he's adamant in his declaration."
The police chief blinked in surprise. "We've barely started!" he protested. He had caught on to Ozpin's wordplay quickly, and while he was playing his role excellently, the indignation seemed real.
"And it is late," Ozpin countered. "The children are not the only ones who've had a challenging evening. He will still be here tomorrow, and we can continue then. With coffee," he added, as an afterthought.
The police chief groaned. "I wouldn't say no to some coffee," he admitted. "Fine, fine. We continue tomorrow first thing. Do not make me regret this, Ozpin," he stated, pointing a finger at the man.
"You won't," Ozpin claimed.
And then, one by one, they left Roman to his cell.
Roman suppressed a grin. "Devious old bastard," he muttered.
"Jaune?" Ruby asked, startling him slightly, "Are you okay?"
He nodded, the action pulling the last of his consciousness out from the reach of his Semblance and back into his body. "Yeah," he told her with a strained smile, "Still just tired."
She nodded back wearily, her eyelids drooping. "Me too," she said softly, leaning against his side as she slowly lowered her head down onto his shoulder. In moments, she was asleep.
Gods, he wanted to put his arm around her. That wasn't weird right? He was a normal(ish) guy and she was a pretty girl resting her head on his shoulder, so it wasn't weird that he wanted to hold her, surely.
Gathering his courage, he slowly, cautiously lifted his arm from beneath her, freezing at every sleepy mumble, before eventually, he lay his arm gently across her small shoulders.
She murmured softly in her sleep, then leaned into the warmth of his side, stretching her arm over his midsection to embrace him, a soft smile spreading across her lips.
Warmth filled his chest (and not just where her arm rested). He looked across the bullhead to the other three students. They were all asleep. Blake sat in the middle, chin against her chest. Yang was to her right, and Sun to her left, both leaning their heads against Blake.
Jaune smiled affectionately. He was incredibly happy that his team was back together. He wanted to join them in slumber, but something kept him awake.
A cold dread, flowing through his veins.
Who was 'She'?
It was a little over fifteen minutes after Ozpin and Qrow had left that the police station erupted in noise. Shouts and alarms blanketed the building in noise as panic spread within.
It started with their first attempt to interrogate one of the White Fang.
The man was spitting with rage, literally. He sprayed saliva with every hate filled word. They hadn't gotten so much of a name from him.
The officer leading the interrogation did her best to remain calm. "Sir, please. If you could just tell us what-"
"YOU WON'T GET ANYTHING FROM ME, HUMAN SCUM!" he screamed, his voice reverberating against the smooth cement walls, before he jumped to his feet, standing as tall as he could while the cuffs kept him chained to the cold steel table. "AND YOU WON'T GET ANYTHING FROM MY BROTHERS! OUR CRUSADE CANNOT BE STOPPED! WE WILL BRING FORTH RIGHTEOUS FURY UPON ALL WHO HAVE WRONGED US!"
He grinned maniacally, and his laughter turned hysterical. "FOR THE GLORY OF THE WHITE FANG! EVEN IN DEATH WE STAND STRONG!"
And then he started thrashing, laughing all the while. His legs gave out, and his head slammed against the table with a sickening crunch. His laughter gave way to nauseating gurgles, and he began frothing at the mouth like a rabid animal, convulsing against the table violently.
"Poison!" the officer shouted into her radio, "We need a medic NOW!"
And then came forth a horrifying echo.
"For the glory of the White Fang!"
The shouts of alarm and panic soon followed. And as though that were not enough, with a deafening boom, a wall shattered, brick and mortar scattering through the cell as alarms began to blare.
"Finally," Roman said hoarsely, as he coughed violently on the dust-filled air. "Did you take the scenic route here?"
In the breached wall stood a very short, lithe woman holding a floral parasol over her shoulder. She pouted at the accusation, and fluttered her eyelids at the captive criminal, her irises flickering between the same pink, white, and brown of her hair with every blink.
Roman rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Just get me outta here, Neo, and I'll buy you all the ice-cream you want tomorrow."
The girl remained silent, but she smiled with glee. She closed the parasol and stepped through the broken wall, sauntering over to Roman. With a lightning fast flick, the parasol struck and shattered the chain that kept him locked in place.
He stood, and took a cigar from Neo's left hand, and his cane, Melodic Cudgel, from the other. "I need to give you a raise," he told her, taking a moment to light the cigar and take a deep breath. He sighed in contentment.
You don't even pay me, the roll of her eyes seemed to say.
"Whatever," he muttered, a puff of smoke escaping his lips. "Let's get out of this shithole, already. Anyone expecting a show?"
She nodded.
He scoffed. "Of course. Those vultures are always ready."
He grabbed his bowler hat from the table and settled it on his head, cautious of the chains hanging from his wrists that could easily make a mess of his hair.
"Then let's go give them the best damn show they've ever seen."
Blake choked on air.
"Blake?" Yang asked with concern, "You okay?"
She received no response, only the faint sound of voices playing through her scroll.
Yang furrowed her eyebrows, before quickly walking to her to look over her shoulder.
"WHAT?!" she shouted in surprise.
Ruby darted over immediately, and Jaune crashed out of the bathroom, tugging a shirt down over his damp chest.
"What's the matter?!" Ruby asked.
Together, they all looked down at the scroll, the local news playing softly, until Blake increased the volume a moment later.
"-were woken by another explosion, this time from the police station," the news anchor said. Lisa something, if Blake remembered correctly. "Some members of the press, there to report on the earlier incident at the docks, collected the following footage."
On screen, through a light fog of dust, Roman Torchwick stepped into view, one hand on his hat, and the other holding his cane.
"Good evening- sorry, morning -ladies and gentlemen." Roman flashed a bright smile as a short woman holding a parasol stepped out of the opening to stand beside him. "While I'm ever so grateful for the hospitality, I'm afraid that I cannot stay. Riches to acquire, stores to rob, Dust to steal; I'm sure you know how it is. Ta-ta!"
He turned to the girl with the multicoloured hair, and placed a hand, the one holding his cane, to the small of his back as he leaned down, offering a hand as though to ask her to dance.
"If you would be so kind, my dear."
She took his hand gracefully, and then they shattered. Glass-like shards rained down against the concrete pavement, before they began to dissolve into tiny motes of light that winked out of existence one by one.
They disappeared, as though never there in the first place.
The screen shifted away from the lingering shards and shouting police back to the news anchor.
"Roman Torchwick had been captured mere hours earlier, along with fifty-three members of the White Fang, after a failed robbery of an SDC Dust shipment. While Roman Torchwick escaped, the police were dealing with another crisis.
All fifty-three members of the White Fang had swallowed cyanide capsules hidden within false teeth, taking their own lives in order to escape interrogation."
They all gasped in shock and horror.
An overpowering sensation of guilt pooled in Blake's stomach.
"The Chief of Police of Southwestern Vale, Azraq Bisman, made this statement."
The image switched again, this time to the man they'd seen briefly while at the station. He wore a dark suit, with a large, royal blue necktie hanging beneath his face. He stood at a small podium, cameras flashing and a half dozen microphones thrust up by his face.
"This was a tragedy we never could have predicted. This loss of life is truly horrifying. To those of you of the White Fang watching this, as both the Chief of Police, and a citizen of this proud Kingdom, I implore you." He stared straight down the camera's lens. "Please. Please do not take your life. Every life has meaning, has value. I beg of you, do not throw yours away. Thank you, no further questions."
Blake dropped the scroll and darted into the bathroom. She fell to her knees and vomited into the toilet, bile burning against her throat as guilt and horror took root in her chest.
She retched again as Yang made her way over on shaky legs. Yang got down beside Blake, loosely taking hold of her hair and pulling it away from the toilet bowl.
Blake spat as she pulled away, her nausea subsiding. She briefly noted Jaune holding a shell-shocked Ruby.
"It's my fault," she croaked.
"It's not," Yang denied.
"I got them caught. They died because of what I did."
"And what if you hadn't?" Yang challenged, "What if you hadn't, and they went on and hurt someone else? They'd be caught eventually, Blake, and it would have turned out the same way."
"I… you're right," she admitted, "I just can't believe that they… they-they killed themselves Yang! I never… I never thought it would become this bad."
"Was… Was it different before?" Yang asked gently.
She wanted to say yes. She wanted to, but was it really different? That devotion, that fanaticism, was it not there before she left? Or was it that, that pushed her away? Of course, the violence was what pushed her to act, but she'd known that she needed to get out far before then. Sun's assessment of it being a cult was far more accurate than he'd realised.
She couldn't. Couldn't tell her it was different, because it wasn't. The only thing that had changed was that they had the equipment they needed to prove the depth of their belief.
When she couldn't give an answer, Yang leant in and embraced her.
"It's just awful, Yang." She sniffed, a trail of warm and wet ran down her cheek. She was crying again. "It's just so fucking awful."
Jaune didn't like that he was leaving Ruby. She'd stopped crying, at least, but the deep sadness etched onto her face had yet to fade. He just had to trust that Yang would take care of her until he finished meeting with Ozpin.
He rode the elevator up, silently contemplating.
It was seriously fucked up, he could admit that easily. Fifty-fucking-three people, dead. And he was part of what drove them to it. He didn't blame himself, it was entirely their choice, but that didn't make it any less terrible.
"Mr. Arc," Professor Ozpin greeted as the door slid open. "I'm sorry to bring you here under such poor circumstances, but as I'm sure you heard yesterday, I need to retrieve your statements before Chief Bisman becomes even further displeased with me. Please, take a seat."
"Yeah," he said quietly, sitting in the offerec chair. "Can… can I deliver their statements for them? I know everything that happened. They… they're not taking the news well."
Ozpin sighed. "It's never easy," he said, "to carry such a burden. To believe yourself the cause of another's demise. Very well Jaune, I will allow you to deliver statements in their stead."
"Thank you."
Over the next twenty minutes, Jaune detailed the encounter. He repeated everything Blake had done, then went on to explain his, Ruby, and Penny's involvement.
Ozpin sat quietly, typing up notes and occasionally asking questions for clarification.
"Thank you Mr. Arc," Ozpin said as he finished typing up the last of his notes. "You've been a great help. I've already given your teachers warning that your team will not be attending class today. Please take care of your teammates, and should you need it, I can give you tomorrow off as well."
"Thanks Ozpin, but um… there's actually something I wanted to ask you."
The man blinked in surprise and motioned for him to continue.
This was risky, he knew, but he needed to know.
"Who… who is She?"
Ozpin froze.
"I-I was watching the security cameras when you went to interrogate Roman Torchwick. I'm sorry, I-I know I sh-shouldn't have been-"
"No, no," Ozpin interrupted rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly, "I've encouraged the use of your Semblance; I had foreseen this occurring at some point, though I had hoped it wouldn't be this soon. I will explain Jaune, please just give me a moment."
Jaune nodded. He didn't think he'd be able to speak any more without stumbling over his words.
Ozpin lifted his scroll from his desk and unlocked it, and placed it to his ear a moment later.
"Oz? Need something?" Qrow asked.
"Yes, would you please come to my office? Take the fast route, please."
Qrow sighed. "Yeah alright, just a minute," he said, before hanging up.
Ozpin then placed his scroll down on his desk again, and stood from his chair. He walked to a wall on Jaune's right, and slid open a window, then returned to his seat.
Not even a minute later up to the window flew a raven. It soared forward, straight through the open window, where in a small flash of light, it transformed into Qrow (the person). Qrow landed easily on his feet, but froze when he saw Jaune.
"Oh, we're doing this."
Okay, that whole transforming thing was completely badass, Jaune had to admit.
Qrow sniggered.
"I said that out loud, didn't I?"
"Yeeeep," Qrow answered, popping the 'p'.
That explained where Ruby got the habit from.
"Come, Qrow, take a seat yourself," Ozpin said, gesturing at the other chair besides Jaune.
Qrow walked over and flopped into the chair. "So what's this about?"
Ozpin sighed. "It would seem that Mr. Arc was using his Semblance to watch our interrogation of Mr. Torchwick."
"Ah."
"Real eloquent of you, Qrow." Jaune smirked at the man.
"Quite," Ozpin continued, amusement in his tone. "Now, Mr. Arc, I need you to understand that what I tell you next cannot leave this room. You cannot tell your family, your team, or even your partner. This is very dangerous information, even moreso than your Semblance."
Jaune blanched.
"What's your favourite fairytale?"
And done!
Man this chapter was angsty - I'm so not used to it. I just want them all to be happy D: But the plot demands it, must be done.
Hope the Fang part didn't bother anyone too much, I've been planning for them to be like this since very early in the story and you'll see why in the future ;)
If you follow me on Twitter ( H3ctic4328), you'd kniw there's a surprise coming next week, so you've got that to look forward to.
Anyway, follow me on Twitter for updates and stuff, or say hello at discord. gg/thehoard
I appreciate all the feedback you guys give.
Yours sincerely, H3ctic.
P.S. And because I nearly forgot, I'm publishing this on mobile right now, so please let me know if there are any mistakes, and I'll fix them next week.