Chapter 2

Jaune had only the foggiest concept of anything for… for he didn't even know how long. Even just trying to remember what happened at beacon felt near impossible for a period. Thinking alone seemed… challenging. For what seemed to be a matter of minutes, Jaune could tell he had woken before whispers grew around him, pain, and then darkness. Odd? Last time he'd passed out, it hadn't been dark, it had been…

Dark or no, he had been saved. Even if the world was only vague dark, cold, and pain, he had been saved. That was enough to pull Jaune through. Whatever happened, he made it out and likely, so did Pyrrha.

Things repeated like that for far too long. Each time, Jaune could vaguely tell that a good amount of time passed in between groggy wakes. There was never much light, and he rarely felt the ability to open his eyes fully, but he could tell that at least a half-day passed between wakes.

Other than the shifting light, Jaune could piece together over time that his pain had begun to ebb. Slowly, things progressed from the sensation of rib shattering pain and his arm being more fragment than intact bone. So much pain slugged towards numbness. If he had been more clearheaded or perceptive, Jaune would have likely noticed the sharp then cold of a needle followed by something to keep him under.

The haze continued. Nothing was quite right even on the seldom occasions it cleared and the pain seeped back in. After long enough, Jaune noticed an ability to move. Not much, but he could curl his left hand and- nope, he wouldn't be trying the right again anytime soon. Jaune proceded to make this same mistake every morning for several months.

After a month or two, it was no longer much of a mistake. He could actually articulate his fingers- or at least, it felt like he could. It was hard to tell in the room's darkness.

With enough time, he even mustered the strength to move an arm. He got all of three or four inches before the clanking of chains and no more freedom to his movement. Damn. Maybe they had him held down to prevent him from rolling and hurting himself in his sleep?

"He's waking."

Who was that? Y- yang? No, not Nora either. But… but he had heard that voice before!

"Shut up!" A hushed and rasped voice hissed.

"P- Pyrrha?" Jaune rasped. If anyone would be by his bedside as he recovered, it would be her, no?

"Ha! He th-... … …" A man that sounded passively like an angry Ren laughed, but Jaune couldn't make it out as something collided with his face and sent him spinning once more. This time, he noticed the cold that followed. Ice ran through his veins and there was nothing to follow but blackness.

The voices were sporadic from then on. Some days when Jaune woke for a moment, he would hear nothing, others, he could hear more and more. Every day he lied to himself with the few fleeting moments of consciousness he had. He knew who they were; who those voices belonged to. Jaune hadn't been saved, he had been captured. And if he had been captured… if those voices weren't of his team or from team RWBY then… then… was everyone else…

Tears stung at Jaune's eyes and for the first time he rightfully opened them, ready to take in the whole world around him. Even the sky had turned red as blood, only visible through the gothic architecture of the infirmary's windows.

"Oh shit, he's coming to." Mercury.

"Cin, Cin you wanted us to-" Emerald.

"HUSH!" The raspy voice returned in a furious anger.

"Wh- wh.. re's…" Jaune's voice was weaker than even he anticipated. "Pyr- Py- P- P!" Jaune choked as a distinctly inhuman hand slammed down on his neck.

"Shut up!" Cinder snapped, her eyes flickering with uncertain fire. Whatever it was that constricted around his throat tightened painfully. "Your precious Pyrrha is gone, and you are going to help us find the rest of your brat friends too; whether you like it or not!"

"N- no… nvr…" Jaune coughed out, but the cold began to run through his veins once more, leaving him falling back into the dark.

Gone… gone… gone… Pyrrha couldn't really be? But there was no reason for Cinder to lie; at least none that Jaune could think up. The thought latched onto every moment Jaune found himself awake. It spread, metastasized and infected his whole consciousness.

In the weeks that followed, Jaune felt like an empty shell. Only the husk of what he had once been, he barely cared to notice as things began to change. He put no effort to processing the lanky man with the mustache that began to attend his bed every other day, checking over him and observing his injuries. He answered none of the man's questions, failed to ask any of his own in return. Even Jaune's groans of pain rung hollow as the man moved him around. Jaune may have had the strength to fight him, but he certainly did not have the will. All he could manage was to think that for all his efforts, it did nothing. He tried to save her, and all it did was get him captured and ensure Beacon wouldn't get the help it needed. It was all his fault. If he'd just listened to her, then maybe she could have protected herself! Maybe she would have lived.

That night, Jaune was taken from the hospital cot he had been in for he had no idea how long. Dragged down by the cuffs that still restrained him, Jaune didn't fight. He allowed himself to be taken. Whatever came next, he deserved it for ignoring Pyrrha's last wishes; for endangering her the way he did. It wasn't like he had a chance to escape- or like he knew how or where to go if he could. So, he gave in. For the time being, Jaune accepted defeat and yielded. He did not resist as the man changed his chains and strung him up. He said nothing when the man left. Jaune simply wallowed.

It was that night, when left alone, only held up by weighty iron shackles, that Jaune cried for the first time since his capture. It would not be the last.

Jaune woke to the taste of moldy bread. It had a distinct distaste to it, especially when it grew to be more mold than wheat. He knew rather well because more than once his sisters found it funny for the 'gross boy' to eat gross things. For whatever reason, he never fought as hard as he likely should have.

"Eat!" Cinder hissed in a rasp as her hand forced the aged roll further into Jaune's maw.

"Bwah- a- ugh-" Jaune bit and choked through what of the bread was already in his mouth, but the rest fell back into Cinder's- hand? Was that a… Jaune's stomach turned and not just from the bread.

"Disgusting." Cinder scoffed.

"I- uugh… thank you?" Jaune questioned.

Cinder glanced down to the rotting morsel in her palm and then back to Jaune with a look. Jaune mostly focused on her eye- or lack there of. Whatever happened… the battle must have lasted far past when he passed out. When he last saw her that night, at most she had a scratch or two. Certainly not a missing a hand and a good chunk of her arm. "Idiot, don't you know the taste of rotten food? Or have all you Beacon brats been so pampered you don't recognize it!?"

"I-" Jaune choked on his dry throat. Life in a family of ten wasn't particularly cushy, but… they did have enough extra bread left at the end of the weak to let mold; that was much more than many others had. "I-" He went to answer again, but the realization of who he was thanking snapped him away from that idea.

"That's what I thought." Cinder muttered and hid her arm back under her cloak.

"Pyrrha. You… you killed-"

"And what about her!" The flames flickered around Cinder's eyes violently but indecisively.

"She's really…" Jaune shuttered and his head fell lower on his shoulders than it already rested.

"And I'll kill you too if don't tell me where the rest of your brat friends would go!" Cinder pinned Jaune's throat against the wall behind him.

"No." Jaune mouthed the word before Cinder could bolster her threats.

"What!" Cinder tightened her grip.

"Nevr-" Jaune's throat nearly collapsed on itself as he tried to shake his head.

"Fine then… death doesn't scare you? I'll make you wish you were dead." Cinder smirked evilly.

The words echoed in Jaune's mind. He… he really didn't. He didn't fear death. Maybe… on some level he wanted it? He certainly wished it had been him rather than Pyrrha. And if… if he was… it would be the absolute least he could do. Pyrrha never wanted anything more than to protect everyone. She did it to her own detriment. If Jaune did too, it would only be just. It would only be… It would be the least he could do to repay everyone who kept him alive after he faked his way into Beacon.

"Just you wait. We'll find something to make you talk." Cinder threatened. "Just you wait."

And wait he did.

As if intending to leave him to sweat himself out, Cinder left after forcing the other half of the bread roll into Jaune's mouth. She left and didn't return. He expected she would return within minutes, but no. She didn't return. All Jaune had to tell the passage of time was the ebbing taste of sour bitter mold. Familiar, disgusting, gross, but honestly, it somewhat tasted like home to Jaune. The taste actually left some part of him imagining his father could chase off the bothersome women and his mother could pick him up and clean him off. Tears welled in his eyes again when he thought of the first time his sisters came to apologize; the first time they hugged him and told him they loved him even if he was born a stupid boy.

The prisoner chuckled under his breath as tears dropped down to the floor. He never particularly wanted to be the 'he' that he was, and his sisters certainly didn't, but they still loved him. Brothers… he had literally all but gone and gotten himself killed. Would they be alright? Of course, they would be alright- his sisters were the seven strongest people in all of Remnant, but… would they forgive him? Being born different was one thing, but falsifying his way into somewhere he didn't belong? Nearly getting himself killed? Getting Pyrrha killed…

Would his sisters understand? How would they deal with his capture? Or would they just be told he was dead? Would they mourn or would they simply rage? Jaune wasn't sure, and he didn't particularly want to think or focus on it.

He struggled to keep those thoughts from his mind, but it was a true struggle. Within what was likely an hour or two, Jaune found himself wishing Cinder would come back and do… whatever it was she would do. It was hard to imagine anything could be worse than dealing with the thought of how he disappointed his family; how he failed Pyrrha and many others.

Cinder didn't return though. Jaune, undrugged, and of his natural body's need fell asleep before he saw Cinder's return. The next morning, another, small piece of equally moldy bread had been set out for him with a relatively clean looking glass of water. His chains had been loosened enough that he could move around a little. He had the freedom to feed himself, and… there was a bucket in the corner.

He devoured the bread, but strived to savor the water. He didn't know if or when he would get more, so chugging it all down in one go seemed suboptimal.

When the time came, the bucket served its purpose despite being shameful- though, maybe that was its purpose. There was paper, but Jaune distinctly did not feel clean, still chained in the room of nothing but dirt and stone.

Again, Jaune found himself with little to do but reflect on things best never thought of. Cinder didn't return even when exhaustion won out once more. He found a nice spot with less dirt than the rest of the room. Maybe tomorrow something would change. Maybe he would have something less painful than memories of family and thoughts of self to busy his day.

Jaune got what he had wished for the following day, though the look on cinder's face seemed determined to make him regret it. Things started with her jamming another old piece of bread into his mouth. This one, thankfully had no mold, but that didn't mean it tasted fresh.

"Get up!" She hissed at him under her breath.

"I- umm, okay." Jaune stood, wiping stale crumbs from his chin as he did.

"Where." The woman demanded in a single word.

"I-" Jaune was honestly surprised. Cinder wasn't particularly the type to hear things she didn't want, but he expected her to have a longer memory than two days. "I won't sell out my friends." He answered resolute.

"Fine then!" Cinder stole the bread away only to crush it in her hands and moderately char the remnants with flickering weak flames.

"Hey-" Jaune scowled. Even if he didn't get the bread- bread his stomach desperately wanted, there was no reason to waste it. A couple days stale was no reason to toss it out; not like the pieces he'd gotten prior.

"Shut your-" Cinder choked on a rasp and her taloned arm subtly suggested Jaune's future could easily mimic the burnt bread.

For the first time of his capture, Jaune truly felt fear. Things would not be simple; they would not be so easy as accepting death or whatever came. He would have to actively endure.

"You imbecilic brat." Cinder clutched her own throat as she coughed. "Just tell me where the hell they are!"

"I don't know." Jaune replied with an instinctive sincerity- well, it was sincere for a moment. After that, a dozen and a half decent ideas for where everyone might be filled his mind. Ruby and Yang almost assuredly went home to Mistral. Weiss back to Atlass. Ren and Nora to Pyrrha's family, to go inform them of Pyrrha's passing. He was unsure where Blake would go, back home or with the rest of her team. If she did go with Ruby and Yang, he had a hard time imagining Weiss would leave as the odd one out.

All in all, Jaune was knew his ideas would not be guarantees, but almost one of them had to be accurate. . He knew well enough from being a personable student who actually cared about his classmates. He knew, and Cinder seemed determined to pry it out of him.

"And I don't believe you." Cinder smirked and summoned up a glass blade.

"I- I don't care." Jaune deflected, trying to keep himself together despite the woman's menacing expression and how it filled her with fear.

Cinder leaned in, pressed her lips to the shell of Jaune's ear, and whispered in an almost delighted rasp. "But you should, and you will."

"Garrah!" Jaune cried out as the blade cut into his abdomen.

"Aww, poor Beacon Brat? Does that hurt?" Cinder taunted as her hand turned and she began to carve at a new angle. "Do you want it to stop?" She caressed over the wound with a finger, sealing it- no, searing it back closed.

"AHHH!" Jaune screamed again.

Cinder stepped back to muse at her work. "So, now do you feel like sharing?" She raised an eyebrow and pulled a chain that naturally hoisted him up by his chains.

"No." Jaune answered, again resolute. He would not sell out his friends, not to Cinder, not because of something so temporary as pain, and certainly not after Pyrrha's sacrifice.

"Fine then." Cinder grimaced and looked almost green. "We can continue." She threatened, appearing less confident in herself than the chained prisoner.

As she charged at him and readied her blade, Jaune tensed his body and summoned all his aura; all the aura Pyrrha had taught him to use. He could do this. No matter what Cinder threw at him, between his aura, his stubborn tolerance, and his will, he could do it. Pyrrha taught him strength, and this was one last thing he could do to honor her memory.

Cinder struggled to pierce the skin, but in time she did. The cuts she made varied from shallow to fatal, but Jaune's immense aura carried him through. Even when blood loss left Jaune limp, cold, and at death's door, his aura clung to his flesh, completely sealing the smaller wounds and saving his life from the deepest.

"Where are they… you fool!" Cinder panted, hands bloody from Jaune but also from how tight she held her blade.

"No." Jaune coughed, a pierced lung filled with blood but slowly putting itself back together through his aura.

"Just give in!" Cinder demanded.

"Not going to happen." Jaune coughed harder, blood spraying over himself and Cinder.

"Fine then!" Cinder tossed down her blade. "We'll start again tomorrow. With enough time you'll break." She hissed her warning and stormed off, leaving nothing but blood and a shattered glass blade in her wake.

Cinder made good on her promise. The next day, she came, blade and bread in hand. To Jaune's surprise, she let him eat some of the bread without offering up any answers, but at about half way she ripped it away again. This time, she didn't destroy it, Jaune already knew the damage she could cause, such threats were worthless now. Cinder jumped right to carving. Again, she mainly focused on Jaune's torso, but her efforts accomplished only pain.

Jaune's aura kept him alive through would have killed any of his old classmates a dozen times over. It didn't make any of what he endured less painful, but it did keep him strong. Cinder seemed to be willing to attempt a death- or breaking in Jaune's case- by a thousand cuts. Maybe if he didn't have his aura healing the wounds as they came he would have broken… but most likely, that was Jaune undervaluing his own will.

"Just! Give! IN!" Cinder screamed into him as she slashed with growing fury and frustration. She finished by plunging her blade directly into the prisoner, spearing him right through.

Jaune coughed out blood again and his vision went blurry. He had never been run through like that before, even the arrow halted somewhere in his chest. Each breath dug the blade's sharp edges to cut further. He wished to live up to his old nickname but his body didn't seem to comply. He was baffled and shocked when he looked up to see Cinder stumbling back and screaming. She gripped her grimm claw of a hand by her half human wrist as it twitched and cracked. "Cin-" Jaune tried to speak, but pain from the blade cut him off along with a cold realization.

He had run dry of aura. What always seemed to be nearly endless finally came up empty. He was still run through, and he was completely tapped out. He would likely die.

Thoughts ran through Jaune's head, distracting him just enough as his captor dealt with a crisis of her own. He would die if the sword was removed and he was not cared for. Was… was that good? If he died, it was the best way to ensure the safety of his friends. It would end the torture- a torture that Cinder seemed deadset to continue till his death. If he fought… he would likely be able to bring this to its end slightly sooner- malnourished, dehydrated, and bled for as long as he had been, it wouldn't take much more to spell his end.

The decision was harder than Jaune anticipated. He had accepted his death a while ago, but acceptance and having an active hand in his demise felt like two completely different things.

In the end, the pain won out- it convinced him to fight his chains and force the blade further. He didn't want death, but he feared that over time he would just fail his friends- besmirch Pyrrha's memory with yet another failure. As he fought and the pain took over, Jaune comforted himself with the logic that his friends would likely never have found them, and if they had, saving him would likely only get more of them killed. It helped- knowing that his death wouldn't be for nothing.

"No!" Cinder shrieked- her voice… it almost sounded… healed- not fully, but certainly better? "No! You fool!" She screamed and took the blade's handle, holding it and the prisoner steady. "Are- are you trying to kill yourself!" She snapped and the grimm hand seemed to claw into Jaune's chest.

Jaune tried to speak with a weak "Yea- ahh!" The claw breaking through his skin cut him off.

"No! No!" Cinder yanked her inhuman hand back before slamming it into the cement wall behind Jaune.

Jaune panted, pain still coursing through him as his vision darkened again.

"You!" Cinder damn near howled with her anger. "Idiot!"

Jaune began to teter and fall off the cliff of consciousness only to be yanked back by the blate being ripped from him and Cinder's fire sealing him back together.

The prisoner screamed and cried as his wound was cauterized back; as his life was saved. He let loose every horrible cry of pain, but in the back of his mind, an idea began to take hold and seed. He had felt this before- he had felt it in Pyrrha's last touch. Could it be? Ozpin's machine actually worked?

Jaune didn't know how long he had been out for, but when he woke, he'd been taken out of the dungeon. Still cuffed, but no longer the iron shackles, back to just the standard handcuffs. He certainly didn't feel great, but he wasn't on death's door. It made notably more sense when he opened his eyes more fully and noticed he was back in the infirmary. The tough cot felt like a marshmallow after days on the cold ground.

Idly, Jaune traced his free hand over the spot from which he'd been skewered. "Pyrrha!" He gasped. Pyrrha! She did the same magic cauterization thing! Jaune didn't know exactly what it was or how it worked, but if they could both do it, it wasn't a semblance, it was Maiden powers. Could Ozpin's machine have worked? Could- could she have survived if she had that power? Cinder's eyes, her flames, they oft flickered as if imperfect. Pyrrha… she could be alive.

Jaune felt like he had been given back life. He had been given more than just life; he had purpose. If Pyrrha was really alive, then there was no wonder Cinder was desperate to find her. No what happened, he would never give in; not only that, he would do everything he could to survive. To find his friends, his family, and most of all Pyrrha once more.

Not long after his revelation, Jaune was brought what appeared to be an almost decadent meal by a lanky faunus with a scary scorpion tail. He hesitated to speak for fear of angering him, but he couldn't help his curiosity. "Is- is this really for me?"

"Mhmm." Tyrian nodded and snickered. "Young Ms. Grimm hand demanded you be fed well."

"C- Cinder?" Jaune balked. The woman who had been feeding him rotten bread wanted him to be given a good meal? It made no sense, but Jaune was too hungry to argue any further. He simply shook his head and began to dig in.

As Jaune ate, he began to understand the point of feeding him. His aura hadn't just been tapped out, all his energy had been used. His tanks were literally empty. As soon as he ate, his aura began to return, he was healing. Slowly, but surely, he was healing once again.

It made all the more sense the next day when he woke up chained in the dungeon once more. He hurt and ached. Plus, he sported a few new scars- nothing that indicated the intensity of the trauma his body had been through, but scars all the same.

Roughly as he expected, Cinder returned not long after he woke. In tow, she had another reasonable breakfast; enough to keep Jaune healing; enough to let her carve on him almost endlessly.

"Are you ready to give in yet?" She asked almost patiently as she set down the tray that held his meal.

Jaune simply shook his head.

"We don't… we don't need to do this." Cinder hissed and held her grimm hand by the middle of her forearm- everything further below had become pure grim; not a patch of human past her hand. Again, the grimm hand spasmed as if it had a life of its own. Maybe it did?

"You don't have to do this." Jaune tried to reason.

"You know nothing of what I need!"

"I won't sell them out. Especially not with what I know now."

"What you know now!?" Cinder glanced between her inhuman hand and up to Jaune anxiously.

"You didn't kill Pyrrha. You need me to find her- to garner the rest of that power you want."

"You!" Cinder launched after him, near crushing his windpipe with the grimm arm as she slammed him against the wall by his neck.

"I- won't- won't sell out my! Friends-" Jaune struggled through Cinder's choking him.

"Fine then." Cinder summoned her blade.

End of Chapter 2