A/N: Alright, this chapter's out on time! A couple of things before we start. I am in college again, but I've got a significantly less stressful course load this semester (taking six classes simultaneously was an incredibly stupid mistake even before COVID hit the world), so the updates should be fairly consistent for a while. I'm also going back through the entirety of MHA and RWBY to refresh my memory on some stuff, and because Season 4 of MHA has been out for a while now and I should really get around to re-watching that for anything I might've missed.

So... yeah. That's all. Enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or My Hero Academia. They belong to Monty Oum, Kohei Horikoshi, and their respective publishing companies. Please support the official releases.

I do not own the cover image.

Chapter 67: Come Marching Home

Jaune's breath was shaky as he looked forward, his eyes taking in the sight of his home for the first time in almost two years. He looked different than he had when he'd left this place. Somewhat similar, yet different all the same. Still tall, still wearing a hoodie and jeans, and still with the signature blonde hair and blue eyes of his generation of the Arc family. But his armor had been improved dramatically, as well as his capabilities with Dust and his proficiency with his weapon. Not to mention the red sash he had tied around his waist. Even though it was perhaps the lightest thing he wore, it felt as though it held the weight of all of Remnant within it.

Still, even after everything that had happened to him, everything he'd been through, he was still nervous to be here. The Arc Family home was, in contrast to the number of regular residents, a rather humble place, spanning two stories with a wide main body, a tiled roof, and a beige coloration to the walls themselves. The door was a smooth, oak piece. Jaune had never forgotten its texture or its sound. He would always associate them with home.

He wasn't sure how he was going to explain everything. He couldn't very well just walk in there and say something to the effect of: 'Hey everyone, I know I've been gone for, like, a year and a half and worried you all half to death in the meantime, but I'm back now! How're things?' To be entirely honest, Jaune knew that this probably wasn't his best idea. Depending on their reactions, this might well turn out to be the worst idea he would ever have.

But he needed to do this. If he didn't, he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life. And he had too many of those already.

Lancelot's helm manifested into the air next to him, his visored gaze taking in the home he knew, yet had never seen. Lance had been a constant companion for most of his time as a hunter. A dispenser of sage advice, a bastion of strength, and a true, genuine friend. Everything Jaune had ever wanted to be. Everything he still aspired to be. One day, he would know that he was worthy to stand alongside him, and everyone else who had helped him along the way.

"Master, there is no need for this," Lancelot said, hearing Jaune's thoughts as clearly as if he had spoken them aloud. "If not for you, I simply would not exist. Call me whatever you wish. A guardian spirit, a sentient semblance, a manifestation of your potential; whatever makes the most sense to you. The fact remains that you brought me into being. I am your Fable, your knight, your sworn ally. I know you think highly of me, and I do appreciate those thoughts. But know that I will always think infinitely higher of you, Master."

"... I don't deserve it. From you especially. I lied to get into Beacon, I nearly died on the first day, I humiliated myself time and again in match after match, and I was too caught up in my pride and self-pity to take a helping hand when I needed it the most-"

"But you became better. It was not easy, but you did improve. Not overnight, never drastically, but you have been moving past your shortcomings, bit by bit, day by day. You still have a long road ahead of you. But do not believe, for even a moment, that you haven't earned your place alongside your comrades."

…

"... thank you, Lance. I... I needed that," Jaune said, his resolve regained as he took a long breath.

"You're most welcome, Master."

"Lance, how many times do I have to tell you? It's just Jaune," the blonde replied, expecting the same joke answer he had always received in response.

"... as you wish... Jaune."

Then, he was gone, scattering back into the recesses of Jaune's soul. Jaune had expected him to say one of a few things. He hadn't been expecting... that. For some reason, though, it suddenly felt... right. He could do this. He would face his family, hell or high water. He would tell them the truth about why he had left. And then... hopefully, he would have the courage to tell everyone else about his lies. No matter their reactions, good or bad, accepting or hateful, he would take them in stride, and accept them for what they were.

And so, slowly, he knocked on the door of the home he had not seen in almost a year.

Jaune heard a muffled voice beyond the door accompanied by audible footsteps against a hardwood floor. The door swung open as the woman inside continued speaking, saying, "-iously, if you and Verda are going to be coming home so soon after your missions, you really oughta call-"

She stopped speaking her thoughts aloud as she recognized his face. Brigitte Arc was by no means a tall woman, only standing at five foot five without heels or combat boots, with short, chestnut brown hair styled in a pixie cut. She was fair-skinned, and had aged gracefully, despite being nearly fifty. She wore a loose dark grey t-shirt and sea-blue sweatpants, her feet bare on the hardwood flooring. His mother seemed as though she had hardly aged a day. Still, she stared for a few long moments, her blue eyes wide with shock, as though she were seeing a ghost.

Jaune had barely opened his mouth before she shot forward and tackled him into a hug. It was tight, and sudden. But it was also warm. And relieved. As though she had just had an enormous weight lifted from her shoulders.

"Thank Oum you're here. You're really... you're really here! My little boy is home again!" Brigitte said, sobbing tears of relief and happiness into her son's shoulder.

Jaune returned the embrace as he too began to cry. He couldn't let himself be made of stone anymore. That helped no one. Not his friends. Not his family. And especially not himself. So, he cried. He cried because, on some level, he was truly, finally home.

(meanwhile, elsewhere in Mistral, Weiss' POV)

Weiss had never had much need to walk through city streets before she had gone to Beacon. In Atlas, it was always limousines, escorts, or perhaps a bodyguard or two to accompany her and her family. She could not recall a time before that she had needed to walk on the pavement like any other pedestrian. Her father condemned the idea of "traveling like a peasant" outright, never walking anywhere outside of the confines of buildings, halls, and any other place he would find himself. Even when Weiss had walked among the streets of Vale for the first time, she had always been accompanied by her team, always had some form of safety net.

Now, she walked alone, the only thing hiding her identity being a grey cloak that trailed from her shoulders to her ankles, shielding her clothing and her figure from prying eyes, with the hood just large enough for her to keep her off-center ponytail where it was without seeming suspicious. The clasp was of dull, grey metal, shaped into a simple square, meant more for functionality than flare. It was, perhaps, the single least expensive item she had ever owned, and the one she had acquired most recently. It had taken most of the Lien she had on hand.

It was also one she was most thankful for. It allowed her to be just anyone else in the street. Someone you could see out of the corner of your eye and never truly take notice of. For the first time in her life, Weiss felt almost invisible.

Never before had she felt such an overwhelming sense of freedom.

Her step somehow felt bouncier as she continued to walk through the city itself. It was so peppy one could mistake it for a skip. Which, of course, she would never do. A Schnee needed to present themselves with dignity and grace, wherever they might go. But some random young woman in a sea of people? Well...

Weiss decided that skipping would do no real harm, and tried to mimic the motions she'd seen from Ruby so often. She was then reminded what style of footwear she currently had on when she almost fell flat on her face, only saved by a nearby wall. Fortunately, no one took much notice of this blunder on her part.

I'm starting to think that Ruby may have had a point about heels. Maybe I should get some shoes that are actually made for walking, the white-haired heiress thought to herself as she rounded the corner. Then, her sense of smell was immediately greeted by the scent of food she was entirely unfamiliar with. It was somewhat odd to her, but not in any way that was unpleasant. In fact, she faintly heard the soft sounds of her stomach rumbling. She'd had nothing to eat in almost a full day.

Curious and hungry, Weiss walked over to the source of the scent, a small noodle bar stuffed between two larger restaurants with only a single customer, slumped on the bar with a large, empty glass mug in front of him, with an equally empty bowl just next to him. He muttered something inaudible as Weiss sat down two seats away, at the far end of the noodle bar.

It wasn't as though she'd never eaten at restaurants before. She'd "eaten out." But never in a place of her own choosing. Not even when she had gone to Vale, she was embarrassed to admit. Years of isolation and almost no control would do that to someone. Weiss was just glad she had made friends that had brought her out of that life, bit by bit.

"So, what'll ya have?" the man behind the bar asked.

"Um... do you have any recommendations?" Weiss asked timidly.

"Hm... well, I do have some lighter bowl options. Any preference?"

"Surprise me," Weiss replied.

"Alright. Should only be a few minutes. Got any preferences?" the man asked.

"... would chicken be alright?"

"O' course," the man said, scribbling down her order. "You know, you don't have to hesitate to tell me your order when I ask for it. It's just part of the job."

"... how …?"

"When you work in the service industry for long enough, you learn how to read people pretty well. And I'm guessing that you've never really been in a place like this before. Am I right?"

"... is it that obvious?" Weiss asked, a sheepish smile crossing her face.

"To people who know what to look for. I'm just saying, it's okay to relax a little, lady. Mistral might be infamous for its underworld, but most people in this city are just ordinary folks trying to get by. That's not to say you shouldn't be careful, but it's also okay to trust that most people mean ya no harm."

"... thanks. I think I needed that," Weiss replied. She did feel genuinely more at ease after that. Another product of an extremely controlled upbringing.

"Well, I suppose I should be getting on to that bowl I promised you. On the house," the man said.

"Thanks for the offer, but there's really no need for that," Weiss said.

"Nonsense. You look like you haven't eaten in a while, and I never let anyone leave this place hungry if I can damn well help it."

"... if you insist, I suppose I shall take you up on that offer," Weiss said as the man went around back to his kitchen, the sounds of pots, pans, and boiling water filling the air as she waited.

(meanwhile, the Arc household, Jaune's POV)

"Still, Verda was pretty conflicted when she saw you at the Vytal Festival," his mother said, sitting across from him at their family's dining table. "On the one hand, she was pretty damn angry that you snuck off to Beacon after everything she and your father had done to keep you away from this life. But I could also tell she was honest to Oum proud of how far you'd come in such a short amount of time."

"Yeah, that sounds like Verda alright," Jaune said. She always was the most protective of his sisters. "How did dad react?"

"In a fairly similar fashion, but he didn't seem all that miffed about you going to Beacon. In fact, he seemed awful proud of you after your showing against that BRNZ team," Brigitte answered. "Honestly, I was just about to march over to Vale and drag you home by the ear when I first saw you at the Festival! But... well, at this point, I'm just happy you're home."

"I know mom. I can't stay for long, but... I needed to do this. Apologize for leaving the way I did. I'm-"

"Don't you apologize to me, Jaune Arc," Brigitte interrupted. "You made your choice. I might not have agreed with it at the time, but it was still yours to make. I can see that now. And it turned out better than any one of us could've hoped. I know that we didn't really help in that regard. It was a mistake to try and keep you away from this life entirely. I'll always worry, it's just something people do. Especially when the people you're worrying about are family. But I can see that you have come so far in only two years. Be proud of that. Be proud of yourself, my little knight."

Jaune chuckled sheepishly at his childhood nickname. "Never thought I'd hear that one again. Still, it wasn't as though I really thought it through that much. Honestly, I was so... stupid! I almost died on the first day because I didn't have my Aura unlocked! Guess that just goes to show how little I knew. My partner... she was the only reason I ever really made it through most of Beacon.

"... her name was Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos," he said, watching his mother nod. Brigitte knew what fate had befallen her son's partner. "She was amazing. Never gave up on me, though Oum knows I was being the worst kind of stubborn jackass. She knew I hadn't made it in officially. I was a terrible fighter, and even as a strategist and a leader, I was incredibly underdeveloped. She... took me under her wing, despite all of that. She trained me how to fight, she gave me another mind to compete against. She was... she was one of the best people I've ever known.

"... I never knew she was in love with me until the end. I don't know how I feel about her, even now. I think I used to. I might've returned those feelings and been oblivious to hers. I might've thought of her entirely platonically. It hasn't really been clear to me since everything... happened."

Brigitte rose from her place across the table to place a hand on her son's shoulder. "That's more than okay. Being confused about your own feelings is... well, it's not unusual. Sometimes it simply is. And, while I never knew her personally... I have a feeling that your partner would want you to keep going."

"You're right about that. I mean, if I decided not to, I think she'd come down from whatever afterlife exists just to kick my ass back into gear. She'd be very polite about it, but she'd still do it," Jaune quipped, causing the two to chuckle slightly.

"... do you want to go see them? Before you have to go back?" Brigitte asked.

"... yeah. I... have a few things I need to say to them," Jaune said, standing with his mother as they left their family home.

(meanwhile, somewhere in Mistral, Weiss' POV)

The Miso-Chicken Ramen had been one of the single most delicious things that Weiss had ever consumed. Perhaps not the best, she still remembered having a Filet Mingione with Winter that had been absolutely exquisite, but the ramen was certainly a close second. It had warmed her up and filled her to bursting.

Metaphorically, of course. She wasn't actually about to burst, and her proportions were still the same that they had been when she'd walked into the noodle bar.

Why was she justifying this to herself logically again?

Weiss shook herself from her mind and took in the sights of Mistral's inner-city bustle once again. The number of people here was somewhat staggering. Thousands of faces, voices, skin tones, clothing choices, grouped and isolated, romantic partners and lifelong friends. They walked, unbeknownst to everyone who they didn't know. Thousands of people, making hundreds of choices, living their own, unique lives. Sure, there would be overlap, and some might only have the slightest distinctions in their character. But something no one could deny was that every person here, in their own, minute way, was wholly unique in their experience.

It was a beautiful thing, to her. In Atlas, there were a select few paths set before you. Join the military, become a hunter, join a Dust company, or join the civilian workforce. In some cases, the latter two were one and the same. There was a similar situation with the former two. The truly unfortunate were those who couldn't even have that choice. She had been one of those, at one time in her life.

Weiss had remembered a time when her life had simply been on a one-track path to being the perfect daughter, married off to some older man to expand the company and pump out a baby every now and then. Weiss had been ten when Winter defied their father and joined Atlas' military. It had changed her role from bargaining token to potential heir to a throne. But that was not what Weiss had taken away from Winter's act of defiance and spite. It had taught her a valuable, essential lesson that had made her who she was today. If you do not like the paths presented to you, make one of your own and follow it to the end.

Going to Beacon had been the single best decision she had ever made. Sure, Atlas may have had better facilities and a technology level she was used to, it wasn't an overall better school. And Beacon had given her the first taste of genuine freedom she'd ever had. It was a chance to make her own path. Sure, the company had always been there, lurking in the back of her mind, but she had tried to not let it bother her that much. 'Lot of good that did her. Before, she was hesitant to let it go. Now, she wanted nothing to do with it. The company that her grandfather had poured his blood, sweat, and tears into building had been gutted of morality and replaced by greed. Same face. Different mind.

And Weiss didn't know how to save the SDC. But even if she had such knowledge... should she? Her father had done so much damage to their reputation among the common people, the working conditions for so many ground-level employees were beyond deplorable, and the level of swept away harassment complaints were most certainly a larger than the public was aware of.

The simple solution would be to sweep it all away. To gut the system once more and start from the ground up. Such a thing happening for a second time would require nothing less than a mass firing spree of those who were perpetrating the harassment, those enforcing poor working conditions, in addition to a massive PR campaign that would take years to be even slightly effective.

It was an ideolog's solution. In other words, an impossible one. A beautiful dream, but a dream all the same.

Her thoughts were interrupted once again by a muffled cry of pain, carrying over from an alleyway she crossed in front of, just barely loud enough to be audible. Weiss's hand immediately flew to the hilt of Myrtenaster as she looked down the alley to find a rather horrifying sight. There was a man holding a younger woman up by her hair, the former wearing a white chef's uniform while the latter wore a blue waitress uniform.

"Damn fur-licker! What gives you the right to talk back to my customers, eh?!" the man said as he pulled her further up, revealing, for only a moment, a pair of sharp, canine ears stretched with pain.

"They were... harassing other custom-" the man raised his hand to strike her again.

Or, he would have, had he not suddenly found his arm frozen from his fingers to his shoulder in mid-descent.

With a mechanical spin and a soft click, Weiss swapped the Dust from ice to wind as she jabbed her blade lightly into the man's sternum, knocking the wind from his and loosening his grip on the young woman's dark hair. He thudded into the wall, smacking his head against it and knocking him out almost instantaneously.

"Are you alright?" Weiss asked, kneeling down to check on the faunus woman. Her cheek had clearly been bruised, and was slowly beginning to swell.

"What- urgh- gave it away? The scream or the bruise?" the woman asked sarcastically, though she was clearly in pain.

"I heard the scream first, but I saw what I needed to see," Weiss replied, taking the edge of her grey cloak and cutting off a small section with Myrtenaster before using the aforementioned blade to form a small chunk of ice. She wrapped it in the section of cut cloak and handed the makeshift icepack to the faunus woman.

"... you didn't have to do that, you know," the woman said, clearly recognizing Weiss despite her cloak, taking the makeshift icepack from her and pressing it to her cheek. Her white hair was rather conspicuous, she had to admit.

"I didn't have to, yes. But I wanted to help. There was a time where I was much like that man over there," Weiss admitted, pointing to the unconscious man slumped against the wall. "Perhaps not in the exact same manner, but similar enough that it makes me feel nauseous. I hate that part of my life. I want to be better. And if that means helping as many people as I can, I can do that."

The woman processed that for a moment before she stood, saying, "I'll have to call the cops on this guy. Could you vouch for me?"

"Of course," Weiss said. "Also, I noticed a camera near that doorway. Do you have access to those tapes?"

(thirty minutes later, The Great War International Memorial, Jaune's POV)

Jaune hadn't been to this place in almost five years. Eventually, it had just become too painful to come here. To look at this thing, all the names put upon it, all the heroes who gave their lives to end the war, and feel unworthy. However, Jaune could only focus on one. A single name that both inspired and haunted him.

Arthur Pendragos Arc, Hero of The Dragon Valley

As he stared at his grandfather's name in total silence, a feeling of completeness began to build in him. It was a stark contrast to the last time he had been here, when he was barely fourteen with hardly a clue of how the world truly worked. Now, he felt... strangely at peace. Jaune wasn't sure if he would ever really live up to the legacy that his grandfather had left behind. And he was okay with that.

"I'll let you say what you need to say," his mother said, squeezing his hand. "But I think that he would be proud of the man you've become."

"... thanks, mom." Jaune said as he let go of her hand, watching her walk back near the entrance of the memorial, where the CCT stood just behind.

"So... I don't know how much you know. If you saw everything, or you're even still here, but... I got into Beacon. Not in the most conventional fashion, but I got there. It was... a ride. I could barely swing my sword the right way, let alone fight at all."

And so, for almost ten minutes straight, he spoke about everything. His friends, his classes, the rather eccentric teachers, the insane fights that they all found themselves in. It all flew by in what felt like barely any time at all.

"... I... I wish I... could've met you. And told you in person. I never knew you, but... I do miss you. I love you, grandpa. I hope you can hear me, wherever you are."

And then came the end of the ritual. A song in his family for all those who had been lost, to battle and war and worse. A song to guide lost souls of fallen warriors to where they belonged. One last time.

"Leaves from the vine..."

(meanwhile, somewhere nearby, Weiss' POV)

"... falling so slow..."

Weiss knew that voice. She had heard it a few times, when Jaune had tried, and cartoonishly failed, to woo her. He had been attempting a rather stupid song at the time, but his singing in and of itself hadn't been all that bad. In fact, viewed objectively, it was rather good. But this melody was not that of a brain-dead love song, nor that of an acoustic piece he sometimes sang for the hell of it back in Beacon. This was a song of mourning.

"Like fragile, tiny shells, drifting in the foam..."

She moved closer. She and Jaune had never really spoken as friends. In fact, after everything with the Vytal Dance had been cleared up, they had only really talked within the confines of the group, which mostly included members of RWBY, JNPR, and STIK. It was a bit of a shame, honestly. Even if she hadn't been interested in him in a romantic sense at the same time that he had been interested in her, Jaune had been something of a light during their time at Beacon. He really was a great friend. An optimistic boy with a bright smile who she could now admit to developing something of a fondness for as the year went on.

The Fall had changed everyone. For better and worse alike.

"Brave little soldier boy, come marching home..."

Coming up from the side, the CCT to her back, she saw a large memorial slab carved from dark stone in the image of an obelisk. She had heard of the Great War Memorial sites for every nation in Remnant. Vacuo's was within the main city, and she had visited Vale's once on a secluded hillside near Beacon. She had seen the one in Atlas several times. But in front of this one, his back straight and eyes closed, was Jaune Arc. He was different from the last time she had seen him. His armor was now far more practical than the simply breastplate and elbow pads he had once worn. His hair was a bit longer, and the lean muscles he'd developed during combat classes were more defined. Silent tears streamed down his face as he finished his song.

"Oh, brave little soldier boy, come marching home."

His song complete, Jaune opened his eyes. Without much thought, they quickly found hers. They stood there, for a while, saying nothing, doing nothing. Simply... looking. Seeing. For the first time in all of the times they had interacted.

Jaune saw a young woman in the midst of change. A change in status, and in mindset. She was reconciling with her past mistakes, with the views that she used to hold. She missed the people who she had grown to care for in Beacon, and was truly, genuinely happy she had found one of them.

Weiss saw a young man dealing with loss and grief. He had been carrying it like a mountain on his shoulders for so long, alone, not wishing for anyone to worry over him. Slowly, he was learning to lessen that weight, that there were those around him who understood his pain.

"... hey."

"... hello."

…

Weiss was silent for a few moments as she walked to Jaune's side. Her gaze turned briefly to the memorial, catching the name of a man who she could only assume was a grandparent of Jaune's. She said nothing, seeing that Jaune was clearly mustering something up to say something to her. It certainly wasn't romantic. It seemed far too important to him to be something like that.

"I... I know this probably isn't something you want to hear from me. Especially since you just found me. But this is something I need to tell everyone. And... well, I think it'd be easier if I started with just one person. Is that... okay?"

Weiss, with only a moment of hesitation, nodded.

"I... I didn't get into Beacon legitimately. I forged my way in and... hoped for the best. Like a damn idiot. I wasn't supposed to be there. I don't think that I'd have survived the first day without Pyrrha. I'm... I'm sorry the first person from Beacon you found had to be a liar."

The white-haired heiress had to admit that this was certainly a shock to the system. Everyone lied at some point or another; there was simply no avoiding that fact. Little white lies that most would think nothing of were a thing that she had been well versed in utilizing. This was much more serious than any little white lie. And Jaune seemed tired of carrying that weight on his shoulders any longer.

Weiss said nothing as she took Jaune's hand in her own. It was a light thing, hardly there at all. Easy enough to move out of if he wanted to. But, despite the sudden tension of surprise she felt, he didn't pull away.

"I will admit, that is rather surprising. Rather, in the fact that it might make too much sense. But I think... you've long since proven your worth as a hunter, Jaune. You've come a long way since you first walked into Beacon. We all have, but you especially have come quite far in a very short time. But one thing you always were was a good person. Sure, you had your faults, but everyone has those. I certainly did. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that. And I do know for a fact that Pyrrha would be proud of you. Of that, I have no doubt in my mind."

Jaune looked at her again, his eyes empty of tears, and full of gratitude. Thankful that his honesty had been met with understanding and sympathy, despite feeling unworthy of such things. He didn't speak. It seemed as though he couldn't, lest he lose control of his voice. But he was grateful nonetheless.

A buzz from Jaune's pocket broke the silence between them, causing him to let go of Weiss' hand and pull out his Scroll. A few hushed lines of conversation later, he turned to her, and said something that brought a smile her face.

"Let's get you back to your team."

A/N: And that's a wrap for this chapter of Team STIK! Okay, that was actually much more manageable than last time, even if it's not as long. I hope you all enjoyed it! Anyways, now we go to:

Review Responses:

Eternal Nexus Warrior: I am indeed something of a John Mulaney fan. The man's sheer awkward charisma is so captivatingly hilarious that I can't help but laugh.

Golbez4: Fair enough. What he did to get into power, especially to Eri, was awful. He's certainly one of the most interesting villains, but I'd still punch him in the face given the chance.

Shadow Joestar: Yeah. I think that was probably one of the largest hurdles for me in the last chapter, since I wanted to give Raven some more depth than she had in the show itself. After that, I was trying to find the right angle to introduce Robin properly, which took some time.

RHatch89: Thank you!

Wisper Uzumaki Uchiha Dragneel: Thanks!

Random65: Indeed I am!

GZ46: Yeah, COVID did contribute to the unintentional hiatus. Not in the sense that I actually caught it, it just stressed me out an insane amount, which did not help me in writing this.

Rio Skyron: I think we all know what I was referencing there :)

JNDragneel: I loved introducing them as they are: a large, goofy family who gets into so much weird stuff together. The scene with Raven and Yang took a while to write, but I'm happy with the way it came out. We also have only one more chapter before we go back to Menagerie, but it won't be a very long one.

Alright, that's that for this one!

Next Chapter: Oct. 2nd

Seeya in the next one!