To those who somehow feel it was a mistake to have Jaune pass out (again, in their words) I'd like to point out he passed out the first time in Ansel due to being overworked and being under too much pressure. Nothing has changed. Less gruelling hours, but much more pressure from media, Atlas, Weiss, politics, etc.
Cover Art: GWBrex
Chapter 19
Shock absence of Jaune Arc at Vytal Festival raises questions
Atlas Times
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Where is Jaune Arc? Vale Council demands answers on location of VALEAN citizen
Vale Daily Tribune
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Council evasive on location of Jaune Arc; medical practitioner claims anonymous VIP hospitalised
The Mistral Review
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Vacuo to make second bid for diplomatic visit from miracle healer. Gillian Asturias says last visit "cut short unfairly". No response from Atlas.
Vacuo Today
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Time UP for Sienna Khan? White Fang PATRIOTS call for change
Kuo Kuana Express
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General James Ironwood looked down on the boy laid out in the bed with an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose and wondered, not for the first time, how he could continue to fail his citizens so. Dr Seng had told him it was never the case, during their own therapy sessions, and the good doctor had even suggested that James' Semblance, Mettle, came from the very self-doubt that he heaped upon himself. He had not been lying when he told Jaune that the therapy had helped, and that Dr Seng was his personal therapist.
I should have pushed him harder to attend, thought James, yet more regrets weighing in. There were many things in his life he should have pushed harder on, let off on, or done differently. It was always easier in the moment, overworked as he was, to let things go and tell himself everything would work out.
Things rarely did.
"What are the results, doctor?"
The woman who had been noting details down on a sheet paused. She was Mistralian, with sharp brown eyes and an exotic accent. Her skin was lightly tanned, and she was young; young enough that James might have had doubts, if not for the sheer importance of Jaune's health to Mistral's council. This was no public doctor; this was a specialist privately hired and used by the most influential and powerful people in the kingdom. She was also sworn to secrecy and, he'd been assured, experienced enough to stay quiet. He wished the same could be said for the rest of the hospital. No one knew who was in this room, but they knew they were being kept away from someone important, and it wasn't hard to connect the dots of their absence at the festival and this.
"The patient's blood pressure is higher than I would like," said the doctor. "He is in good physical shape all things considered, which is why I believe the blood pressure is linked to stress. I've also noted hormonal imbalances rife throughout his body, some of which can be caused by a lack of sleep."
"I've ensured he has at least eight hours sleep every night."
"You can ensure all you wish, sir, but you cannot force a person to sleep well. It could be that he struggles to find restful sleep, or that he stays awake at night." She brought the clipboard down and said, "I would strongly advise taking a look at his mental health. While it may seem improper or too soon to make such a diagnosis, everyone on Remnant is aware of who he is. The pressure must be immense."
"I've tried-"
"Then try harder." snapped the doctor. James closed his eyes, nodded, and accepted the criticism. He would not get angry at a medical professional, and she was right. It was all well and good he defend himself, but Mr Arc was a young man, a child in many ways, and James had been entrusted with his wellbeing.
"You're right. Please, go on. Did the high blood pressure cause him to faint?"
"Yes and no. A fainting spell usually comes from low blood pressure. That said, when someone has an emotional trigger or attack, such as panic or anxiety, their heart rate can slow suddenly and cause a drop in blood pressure. This drop might not normally be so severe, but when his bp was higher before? Well, then it comes across as more of a shock to the system, causing less blood to reach the brain."
"Has there been any damage?"
"Fainting spells like this aren't normally the cause of any underlying health issues, and don't normally cause any. That said…" The doctor cut him off before he could speak. "Continued episodes like this certainly can cause issues. And will. I've read through his medical history and it says here he experienced one before."
"In Ansel," said James. "He had been wildly overworked, given almost no rest, and then was cornered by reporters and put under pressure. We were told he tripped and struck his head."
"That may be the case, but I expect he fainted first."
James nodded. "We've cut his hours down drastically since bringing him to Atlas. He works two hours a day at the hospitals, and we've limited him from doing more. I'd hoped this would be enough to give him a healthy lifestyle."
"I suspect it has been. He's been in Atlas for a long time now and not had any episodes. That tells me you've taken care of the physical aspect well enough."
"Then it's mental?"
"I believe it so." There was a note of caution in her voice that told him she didn't want to make any binding statements on the spot. She had only seen him for an hour after all. "It's common for younger people to suffer from anxiety and stress, and to take that with them as they grow. Children can have panic attacks from school and exams, and that's part of the reason why hours for schooling are less than hours for work. An adult body and mind can withstand more and has more avenues for de-stressing as well. Younger people are often more aware of what people think of them, and more troubled by the opinions of others. I assume I don't need to tell you how many young women experience body confidence problems as a result of social media and model culture."
"You don't."
"It's the same here. Mr Arc may not have anyone to compare himself to, seeing as his Semblance is unique, but that does not make it any easier. Instead, he only has the opinions of others to judge himself on. I've read the newspapers and seen the headlines myself." Her eyes closed, and she huffed unhappily. "I've even had my own opinions on his work ethic, which feel so wrong now I see him in person. It's common for younger people to try and live up to the expectations of others, be they parents, respected figures or public opinion. Women must be slim-waisted and always smiling; men must be strong and dominant. That kind of thing."
Jaune Arc must be always working and always available. James sucked in a breath and felt the nausea roll about in his stomach. Elm had warned him. Elm had sent him numerous reports, and requests, for Jaune to attend therapy, and James had done no more than prod and push and ultimately give up when Jaune showed too much stubbornness.
How much pressure is he under? No, that's the wrong approach, he realised. It was not how much pressure he was under, but how much pressure he believed he was under. From there, taking a cynical view, it wasn't hard to come up with some ideas.
Jaune's family were living well and happily in Atlas and had been under siege in Ansel. The condition for their wellbeing had been Jaune serving Atlas, healing, and though they had never said it, and would never do it, he might have gotten the wrong idea and thought their happiness was being kept hostage. If I don't work as hard as I can, Atlas will stop looking after them and they'll be thrown to the wolves.
Then there was the media and the PR and the television interviews. Jaune had agreed to do them all, and James had allowed himself to believe it was because he was comfortable with them, or at least could ignore the pressure. That might not have been the case. He might have thought he had to do everything they said because his time belonged to them. That Atlas continued to pay support to Ansel might have weight on him as well. I ruined Ansel, he might have thought, and if I don't do everything Atlas wants, they'll stop supporting Ansel's recovery.
And, of course, there was the public and their perception. Wild and swingy in terms of how they felt, loving him one second and hating him the next. James was experienced enough with affairs to know it wasn't actually the people changing, but the headlines, and that what it really boiled down to was certain demographics getting louder and quieter. The people who hated Jaune Arc had always been there, just muted and with nothing to complain about until a scandal hit, and then they could gleefully shout about it online.
It was nothing new. There was always hatred and attention directed toward those who were successful, be it rich from business or a celebrity. His own commanding officer had once told him it boiled down to the insecurities that the common person had.
The average person believed themselves a hard worker. They usually weren't. Most people coasted by on life with dreams and ambitions, but no real drive to reach out and take them; they would work their limited hours, come home and watch the television or play games or read magazines.
Then, and there, they would see or read about people who were being paid so much more than them, and who appeared to have such better lives, and they would think: "why do they have what I do not? I'm a hard worker, I work my ass off, and I don't have a fraction of what they have". The conclusion would oh so rarely be that they were not as hard a worker as they thought they were, or that the person who was rich and successful worked more hours or harder or had to deal with more stress. No. It would be that the person was lucky, unfairly recognised, and didn't deserve what they were getting. They couldn't deserve it, because to admit that someone like Jaune Arc did deserve his money, was to admit that they, themselves, did not, and the average person wouldn't accept that. Some did, of course, but not the average. The average was always dragged down.
Does he believe what they are saying? James sighed and wanted to slap himself. Of course he did. Jaune was a young man, a boy in many ways, and he was being bombarded with thousands – or tens of thousands – of people telling him he wasn't working hard enough, or that he was overpaid and lazy. It was ridiculous to assume he could see all that and dismiss it. He's taken it to heart. With that many people saying it, he must believe it's a fact. It's probably even worse when him not working means people dying.
No. Not dying. They were already dead. Damn it, even he was falling for their nonsense. If Jaune Arc did not work in the hospital then no one died. They simply didn't come back. It was a difference. A big difference.
"What was his itinerary yesterday?" asked the doctor.
"No hospital visit for once. Televised interview around midday. He sparred with some friends after the tournament. He always liked that. Could that-?"
"Physical exertion could have sped this up, yes, but it will not have been the cause and taking it away if he enjoys it won't be the answer. My professional opinion – and I am not a psychiatrist, so take it with a grain of salt – would be that Atlas has taken care of the physical exertion aspect of his problems but has failed on the mental aspect. He has faced more mental pressure in Atlas than Atlas. Not less. A greater population, more media attention and easier access to it. He is bombarded with people talking about, discussing, criticising and insulting him."
"A lot of people love him."
"No. They love his Semblance. They love what he can do for them. I expect he understands that better than either of us. I also expect he understands that, should he withdraw his Semblance for even a single day, all that love and admiration would turn to hate in an instant. Or, at least, he believes it would. Reality is not important here. Mental health is about what the person believes, not what is factual."
"I'll keep that in mind. And I'll look if we can't find ways to lessen the pressure." He couldn't even begin to think how. They couldn't stop people having their opinions or the freedom to express their thoughts. It would be mass censorship, and the people would despise them for it.
He couldn't just take Jaune's access to the internet away, or he'd be punishing him. Plus, Jaune was intelligent enough to guess why that was happening. If he was already on the verge of depression, and it sounded like he was knee-deep at this point, then he would default to the most cynical conclusion – that the public hated him.
They couldn't try and educate the public either. Jaune's mental health was his business, and there were so many people who were dismissive of it or wouldn't believe it. "How can he be pressured and have depression?" they would ask. "He only works two hours a day and he's filthy rich. He doesn't want for anything." They would get even worse, insulting him and suggesting that he was taking away from people who really had problems, and that he should suck it up and move on like the privileged person he was.
"Do you have any immediate advice we can implement?" asked James.
"Try to remove him from anything that might trigger him. The Vytal Festival should be fine, especially if he seems to be enjoying himself there. You said he had no hospital visit. I'm wondering what exactly could have set this off."
Ozpin. James' teeth clenched together and his metallic hand creaked ominously. Ozpin had told him that he'd simply been talking to Jaune when he fainted, but hadn't said what about, and James had been too panicked to ask. He said something to cause Jaune to have a panic attack. Unintentional or not, that isn't acceptable.
"I'll do what I can. Will he wake soon?"
"I have him under anaesthetic to sleep longer," said the doctor. "He needs it. I'm also going to prescribe some sleeping aids."
"Not antidepressants?"
"I don't think he needs the mood swings. Those on them also tell me often that they feel trapped and dependent on them, and that they sap your life away. I'd prescribe them for a more deep-rooted issue, but problems at work are something his employer – you – should be able to fix. He shouldn't need them."
Message received loud and clear. James nodded. The door was guarded by Clover and Elm on the inside, and Vine and Harriet on the outside. "Ederne."
Elm saluted. "Sir."
"With me. I want your opinion on this outside. Clover, I trust you can handle the room alone."
"Of course, sir."
They stepped out, past the two outside, and into a wing of the hospital that was emptier than most. Private quarters, rented by Atlas. There would be no true way of stopping the rumours and preventing people finding out about this, but the hope was that Jaune would be back on his feet before the panic began. Just thinking that had him cringing, as it was yet again handling the media by forcing Jaune to be the one to adapt.
"Ederne," said Ironwood, once they were a short distance away. "I know you have been sending reports to me on his health. I have been… lax in following through on them." The large woman didn't comment, and her expression didn't falter, but he could tell she wasn't pleased with him. It was something in the rigidness of her stance, and the absolute lack of any emotion on her face. "I would ask your opinion now on what should be done to limit the damage."
"Sir," said Ederne. "I would start by cancelling and removing all scheduled PR and televised events involving him. I wouldn't care what PR thinks, or what the council says, as it should be enough that we're here and going through the motions. If the people get uppity, tell them every television appearance takes away from time he could be helping people. That'll shut them up."
"I'd then move to actually do more to help when there's a problem. PR left him high and dry after the Schnee fiasco, and that was our fault. Not his. We should have stepped in instantly to say he was ordered to bring them back. Instead, people in power sat on their arses and let him take the blame."
"We did issue a press release eventually."
"Yes, sir. Eventually. At which point everyone assumed it was us trying to cover for him and take the blame. With all due respect, sir. No one believed it. They saw it as more special treatment for him."
James winced. It hadn't been his call, but he could see the problem. "Anything else?"
"Yes, sir. Limit Weiss Schnee's access to him."
"What?"
"That girl isn't good for him," snapped Elm, emotion finally showing. "It's not healthy. She's obsessed with what he can do, how much he can do, and this… this ideal of how great a trophy he is going to be on her arm. I don't think she even realises it, but I've seen the way she treats him, sir, and it's not good."
"Winter assured me Weiss was nothing like her father."
"I'm sure she isn't, sir, and maybe it isn't intentional. Doesn't change the fact that she pushes him to do more visits to the hospital. He tried to take a day off to go on a date with her, and she nearly had an aneurism. I was there, sir," she said. "I was there, right by him, and I saw how his face fell. He thought he was making a romantic gesture, and he was, but she threw it back at him because she's no different than anyone else. She's starstruck. He isn't a normal boy to her; he's Jaune miracle Arc."
James sighed and cupped a hand to his face. "I really thought she would be good for him. Similar age, similar status, she's a celebrity herself, and even if I know Jacques would be pushing this for his own ends, I thought she'd be able to look past his reputation."
"Sir, with all due respect, the girl was fifteen. Sixteen now, but fifteen when it started. It is her first relationship. Neither of them knows what they are doing. If their situation were different then I don't think it would be a problem, but it isn't different and it is a problem."
"I can't just break them up, Ederne."
"Not asking you to, sir. Just make excuses for why he needs time alone. At least for this trip. And ban him from things he shouldn't do. The girl can't complain he isn't healing if it's not his choice."
That would open them up for criticism instead, himself and the Council of Atlas. Ironwood chastised himself a second later for even thinking it. That kind of thinking was what led to this problem in the first place. The were the adults, and they could handle a little negative attention. "Very well. Thank you for your candid words, Ederne. Please continue to look after him. I will do what I am able."
Ederne saluted again, still not pleased, but a little less frosty. "Sir."
/-/
"Jaune is just fine, Miss Schnee," said General Ironwood to the worried young girl. "It was only a fainting spell and he is resting it off. The doctor believes he is suffering from exhaustion."
"Oh no." Weiss' hands flew to her lips. "Is it because I made him spar? I thought he was-"
"It's not solely because of that. Jaune has been dealing with a lot of mental fatigue from over-using his Semblance, dealing with televised interviews and everything else. You have to remember he isn't as used to it as you are. This is all new to him, and he's had to adapt to ten times the attention and pressure you receive."
He might not have noticed it if he hadn't been looking, but there was a brief flash of surprise, even confusion on the girl's face. She didn't understand why Jaune was bothered, didn't understand what the issue was. It was probably that she couldn't. To her, being the centre of attention was the natural state of affairs, so she had not lost anything. It was the redhead with her, Pyrrha Nikos, who looked the most understanding, her face creasing unhappily and her eyes dipping to the floor.
"Can I see him?" asked Weiss.
"We'd rather he rest for now. The doctor doesn't think it wise he be interrupted."
"I… Yes. That makes sense. Thank you for letting us know, sir."
"Is he accepting gifts?" asked Pyrrha.
James was surprised for a moment but saw no harm in it and nodded. "I can deliver anything you'd like him to have."
"That's a good idea!" said Weiss. "I'll get him a card and some flowers. And chocolates."
"Have them brought to me when you have them," said James. "I'm afraid I need to have a chat with someone for now. Please excuse me." Excusing himself, he approached Jacques, Sleet and Ozpin, who had been talking in a corner. Sleet saw him coming, and the man's eyes widened briefly, accurately picking up on Ironwood's mood.
"Ah," said Ozpin, not ignorant, but also unafraid. "Is Mr Arc-"
"Enough," he bit out. "Jacques, Sleet, if I might have a word with Ozpin alone, that would be appreciated."
Jacques looked curiously, amusedly so, but accepted with a brief incline of his head. He and Sleet stepped away, talking politics and business as Ozpin took a shallow breath and faced him. "I had wondered if you would come and talk-" Ironwood grasped the man by the lapels. Nearby, Glynda broke off and made to intervene, only to be waved back by Ozpin. "Calm yourself, James. Let's not cause a scene."
"I'm beginning to think I should cause one, Ozpin, if only to give Jaune a break from all the attention. General Ironwood breaks fellow headmaster's nose would make a good headline, wouldn't it? The people would talk about that for a while."
Ozpin's smile dropped. "You're upset."
"No, Ozpin. I am livid. What did you do to him?"
"Mr Arc and I merely talked."
"Then what did you talk about?"
"Things. His time in Atlas. The state of affairs surrounding him. His dreams for the future. Mr Arc appears to believe he has no future other than what Atlas decides for him. Quite a sad thought process to have. I encouraged him to think deeper, and to realise he has more freedom than he believes."
Ironwood snarled. "You pushed his buttons."
"I only-"
"Don't feed me your shit, Ozpin," whispered Ironwood. "I know what you really want. His Semblance would probably be useful against her. Is that what you're thinking? Bring back strong huntsmen that can better fight her."
Ozpin said nothing.
"You're not wrong," admitted Ironwood. "You're not. Militarily speaking, the best choice is to prioritise those of strategic importance and let everyone else die. Militarily speaking, Salem is the greatest threat to Remnant."
"Then what is the problem?"
"He is not military! He is a boy!"
"A young man but let us not split hairs. Qrow was only a little older when I first recruited him and his sister. Mr Arc had wanted to be a huntsman in the past. I merely thought to offer him the opportunity within Beacon."
"And did you think for even a second how Atlas would react?"
"It is his choice, James."
His choice. Ironwood wanted to laugh. Jaune did have a choice, but it wasn't much of one from his point of view. He could choose to snub Atlas and go to Beacon, and as a result his family would suffer, people would die, and the world would despise him. His girlfriend would leave him too, and Ansel would lose the aid keeping it alive, and every newspaper on Remnant would be calling him a monster. Not all of that was true. Not all of it. Enough was, and Jaune believed the rest anyway.
"Your innocent questions caused him to suffer a panic attack."
"I think you'll find, James, that your mishandling of him is what caused-"
"Don't play your games with me, Ozpin! I know we've not handled this well. I know I've failed. The difference is that I'm willing to accept that and try to do better, while you're looking for your next weapon."
"He would have friends in Beacon. Peers. Teammates."
"He does not have peers. Not anymore. Any team you put him on would alternate between awe, wonderment and outright jealousy. They'd see him as the spoiled brat allowed into Beacon because of his fame and Semblance when everyone else had to slave through prep schools for the chance. They wouldn't be his equals."
"And Atlas is better? What have you offered him? Money? Security? You certainly haven't offered him support, James, or the help he so clearly needs."
"Neither would you."
Ozpin had his goals, his work, and it was necessary. That, James didn't discount. Salem was a threat that needed to be dealt with, and the Grimm were an ever-present problem. James knew that, and it was why he worked so closely with the man, and why he supported him and pushed to maintain the alliance between Vale and Atlas. General James Ironwood was prepared to die, if needs be, to push Salem back. But Ozpin saw things too distantly. He saw the big picture, which would have been good normally, but he only saw the big picture.
It must have been close to impossible to do anything else with how long he'd lived. Years and decades would flash by in the blink of an eye, with whole generations having come and gone. Four years in Beacon felt like a lifetime to many but would have been nothing to one such as Ozpin. He kept his focus outwards, appearing mysterious and aloof to those who knew him precisely because his attention was forever on matters above and beyond them. It made him the most effective person to protect the kingdoms against Salem, but it also left him emotionally detached from affairs around him. In all fairness, Ozpin had seen many close friends come and go, some dying violently and others of old age.
"I am doing the best I can for his health," said Ironwood, slowly releasing the other man. Ozpin made no criticism of the rough action, and politely smoothed his suit out. "He's not ready to take part in this war, Ozpin. I'm not sure he will ever be. You can bring your people to him, to us, and we'll always do our best for you, but place him on the front lines and he will die. He needs help. Nor marching orders."
"I am not without sympathy, James, but time is not on our side."
"What do you mean?"
"There has been movement from Salem and her agents. Qrow was able to catch it, but only because it was sudden and clumsy on her part. Her plans, whatever those might be, have changed suddenly and without warning, and left those aiding her scrambling to catch up. Amber has been attacked. Her condition is critical."
James sucked in a breath. "You want Jaune to bring her back?"
"Ideally, she would not die. I can't help but think that even if she were brought back, her power would move on. I very much doubt it would stay with her or come back just because she did. That said, should the worst happen, I would prefer it. Amber does not deserve this and might have crucial information on who did this to her."
"Then bring her to Atlas," said James. "I'm more than happy to look after her, and she'll be close to Jaune if the worst does happen. You don't need to test my patience by pushing someone under my care to the breaking point."
"That was never my intention. The point I am making, James, is that they are on the move. And that their attention, all of a sudden, appears to be on Atlas." He let that sink in, and Ironwood's eyes widened. "I should not have to tell you what has appeared that might have caught her eye. The power to bring back the dead would be… of interest to her. Mr Arc is limited, and of no use to whom she would want to bring back, but that would not stop her. I hear tell a desperate mother attempted to kidnap his sister and threaten to kill her unless Jaune brought back her dead child."
Ironwood's heart thudded in his chest. "He's limited to four hours. It would never work."
"That desperate, grieving woman did not care to believe it. Do you think she will be any different?"
Bit of a no-Jaune chapter, but that's necessary. The plates have been spinning on Jaune's time in Atlas, and it's time for a few to start falling.
Next Chapter: 3rd November
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