A strange, dull light in the center of the world of darkness surrounding her pulsed in some sort of pattern. It slowly began to intensify, then began to radiate some kind of empty heat as the light got brighter and the pulse became some sort of mildly audible beat. Then the light split off into several little orbs that drifted to the side, making some sort of frame.

Oh no...

Strange, distorted voices began to faintly play, barely audible, but slowly becoming louder and seemingly closer.

No, not this dream again! I can't have it again. I can't be seeing this anymore. No no no no no no no!

"Jaune," Pyrrha's static-like voice said, glitching before and after the name was said, "Jaune."

She tried furiously to jerk herself from the darkness she was immersed in, to escape its haunting existence and the nightmares it housed, but she could move. No matter how hard she tried, or even when she tired to use her semblance to escape, it was as if she was a car stuck in mud, the wheels spinning and sliding in vain.

"How could you let me die?!" Pyrrha's voice shot out accusingly, the faded image of her friend hardly visible in the strange darkness, "Why didn't you save me?"

Pyrrha's face drifted straight in front of her's, skin pale as a ghost, eyes red as a Grimm's, strange, blackish-reddish veins going fro her eyes all the way to her chin. She looked like a mix of angry, accusing, sorrowful, and dead, yet, she was breathing. Or was she?

Cinder's glass arrow was stuck in her Pyrrha's chest, the wound where it was embedded much larger than in reality. It was gaping and halfway crusted shut, while the uncrusted part had a mixture of blood and puss slowly oozing out. Her chest did not move up and down as it should, indicating that Pyrrha wasn't breathing.

Oh, gosh no! This is worse than last time! Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it...

Pyrrha slowly reached down to the arrow stuck in her, grasping it tightly with her hands with a demonic, vacant look on her face. Then, with an agonizing scream, she began slowly pushing it deeper inside herself, the wound slowly expanding and seeming to fill up with...something.

No! No, stop! Pyrrha, stop it! Don't to this again!

She continued to push it in, screaming bloody murder until nothing but the fletching of the arrow showed, sticking out of the now massively swollen wound, filled with blood and puss and something else revolting. The arrowhead was sticking out of her back, bright red blood spilling out of it.

Then her hands began to twist and crack in odd shapes and ways, her neck and head following the movement. She pulled out her spear, held it out in front of her so that the head of it was in line with the fletching of the arrow, and then, with another blood-curdling scream, she shot it into the remaining part of the arrow, fully embedding it into her and shattering the glass it was made of.

NO!

The huge, swollen, puffy wound popped as soon as the arrow had finished shattering.

The contents of the wound exploded over everything, a disgusting smell accompanying it. The smell saturated the air, the darkness, everything, until there was no way to escape it. She tried to thrash and jerk herself out of this horrid darkness, but the revolting smell, the haunting atmosphere...it all held her down and kept her stuck there.

She felt a soft, airy touch on her shoulder, as if a whisper had touched her, and a prickling sensation when up her neck as the familiar, and yet unfiamiliar feeling caused her heart to race in panic and fear again. She knew who it was-what it was.

No...

Pyrrha's ghostly voice whispered eerily in her ear,

"Jaune will never forgive you."

Stop it! Leave me alone! Get away from me!

Before she could turn around and try to strike the face she could feel behind her, Pyrrha suddenly appeared in front of her, glitching here and there as if the connection of her soul had been tampered with or something and was now somewhat disfunctioning.

Her wound was gone now, the arrow still there somehow, sticking all the way behind and through her. A strange, sickly smile curled on her lips, but it almost looked sorrowful and angry. She looked like a haunted ghoul, who had been killed over and over again and had remembered every time she had died.

A horrible sick feeling in Ruby's stomach caused her to bend over, clutching it and groaning. Pyrrha knelt down beside her and reached her now long, bony hand towards Ruby's belly, her fingers seeming to grow longer, sharper, and skinnier as they progressed forwards.

But instead of just touching her stomach, they kept going, into her stomach, with a sharp, stabbing pain. Literally.

Ruby gasped and bent forward, clutching her belly harder, but Pyrrha's long, knife-like fingers reached inside of her, taking hold of something. Ruby could feel the fingers closing around what was in her stomach, and begin pulling it out, slowly and painfully.

Ruby cried out as Pyrrha ripped the thing out, holding it tightly in her fingers, and as soon as she caught sight of what she was holding, she froze, eyes wide with horror.

Pyrrha was holding her and Oscar's baby. Tiny and half-formed, red and unliving, curled up in Pyrrha's white, ghostly hands with her fingers closed over it like a cage of bones.

It was a little girl.

No! Put her back or something, I don't care! Give her back! She's mine! She's Oscar's, you can't take her away! Please, I tired to save you at Beacon, but Cinder got you! Why are you doing this to me?!

Ruby began sobbing uncontrollably on her knees, her stomach seeming to bubble with some sort of hot, syrupy liquid. Pyrrha looked at her, twisting her head around and around like an owl, until it made odd stretching sounds.

Ruby looked slowly up, knowing what was coming. Knowing what was about to happen. It always happened at the end of every nightmare that terrorized her about Pyrrha and her death. Shutting her eyes, she waited.

Then, after a long, eerie pause of silence and waiting, she cautiously opened her eyes, only to see Pyrrha's white, bloody, Grimm-like face expand and make the most frightening expression before plunging herself right at Ruby, about to destroy her...

She bolted upright in the bed, drenched in sweat and panting heavily. Her hair was a damp mess, spiking out here and there as a result of her probable thrashing. The sheets were seat-soaked, and a strange, tired feeling seemed to immerse her only a moment later.

She was in what looked like some sort of guest room, as the only furniture there was the simple, white-sheeted bed, a medium sized dresser with a mirror attached, a photo of some Atlas scenery, and a desk with a fan and a lamp on it.

She caught her breath for a moment and then sighed, the memories of reality sinking in and the nightmare fading away like a bad dream. Literally. It was nice and quiet in that room, and she was alone. Maybe she'd check on her bump; see how large it was without anything covering it...

"Ruby?"

Jaune's sudden voice nearly scared her out of her head. She jumped, started badly, and let out a short, cute squeal, her arms flinging out to the side and then automatically snatching the covers and holding them in front of herself.

She stared, wide-eyed at Jaune, who had been sitting in a chair, right beside her bed. She hand't even noticed him, somehow, when she had been looking around the room. And yet, there he was, sitting about a foot and a half away from her, looking at her.

"J-Jaune!" Ruby squeaked, her heart pounding in her chest, "H-Hi!"

"Hey," he said with a light smirk, holding up his hand in a waving gesture, "Um...how are you doing?"

Ruby's eyes darted around the room as the fear of him knowing about her pregnancy began to crowd her head. Whenever someone was so close, she was afraid of them finding out, whether it be from talking to her, or seeing it themselves. And with Jaune? Well, that was almost worse.

"Uh-I'm doing great!" replied quickly, slowly lowering the blanket and letting it just cover below her bosom, "H-How are you?"

Jaune chuckled and shrugged.

"I'm fine, too," he said, "But are you sure you're okay? You kinda looked really sick when you ran off like that...and when you threw up."

Ruby blanched, remembering the embarrassment from...well, whenever that had been. It had been later when they had gotten here to Maria's house, and the room, lit by natural light from the window, was decently lit. Had she slept through the night?

"Oh!" she said, plastering a large smile on her face, "Heh, that! Um, that was...well, I don't know, I was really tired from, er, the storm! And...uh, I don't think the milk was very nice on my...stomach!"

Jaune raised a brow, a slight look of confusion and concern crossing his face. "Okay?"

"And," Ruby continued, "I didn't sleep very well last night."

"Ruby," Jaune said, "You slept incredibly last night! Nora and Oscar accidentally dropped the heavy woodpile Maria told them to bring to the fireplace, right outside your room, and you didn't even stir. And it was loud!"

He motioned with his hands for emphasis. "I was in here all night, in case you were to wake up, and even I woke up from that. I'm a deep sleeper, you know."

Ruby felt even more embarrassed, and at the same time, worried.

"Oh, you did?"

"Yeah. I like not knowing what happens to my best friends."

"I'm your best friend?"

"Well...yeah. Um, am I yours?"

"Of course! You're my first Beacon friend, too."

"Yeah...same to you. I remember wishing you hadn't ran off with Yang so I could keep talking to you."

"Really? Why's that?"

"Um...well, you're a nice quirky girl!"

Jaune mentally facepalmed, knowing how awkward and weird that sounded. He did not want to get into that subject, or rather, he didn't want his romance with her to be a misunderstanding to her. That would be terrible.

"Am I though?" Ruby asked, half with mock mysteriousness, and half with curiosity. Jaune just sighed and nodded.

"You're cute, too."

Jaune, you idiot! Why would you say something stupid like that?! I thought I just told you to stay away from comments like that. Like, I literally just told you one comment ago to shut your mouth about that topic!

Ruby felt herself blush, mostly from embarrassment. Jaune was starting to steer the topic now, and she didn't like it. She didn't want to tell him that she wasn't romantically interested in him, because it would hurt him badly.

She also didn't want to tell him that she loved Oscar, because then the two of them would be more suspected to be in some sort of romantic situation because they hadn't been very romantic with each other before. This was a bit more sudden. Her and Oscar's baby would be found out before they were ready for it to be discovered.

"Oh...that's nice," she said, mentally smacking her forehead. What kind of a thing to say was that?

Jaune looked up at her, knowing that he needed to ask her. Ask Ruby, not Oscar, if she liked him or not. He needed to know, if he wanted to make any moves or plans for the future. This was the talk he had been waiting for ever since he had fallen for her. And it was going to happen now.

"Ruby," Jaune said, taking a deep breath and summoning all courage he possessed, "I need to ask you something. Something that I've been waiting to ask for a little while now. I know it might sound weird, and I hope you understand if it does. But please tell me we're on the same page!"

He slammed his eyes shut and with another deep breath and a brief exhale, he blurted out,

"Ruby, do you love me?!"

That question seemed to echo in the room and hang in the air, followed by a long, awkward silence. The sounds of footsteps from the kitchen and the muffled sounds of people talking in another room could be heard much clearer in this silence, and Ruby felt her face growing very hot.

Jaune had finally asked it. After all this time, he had. And Ruby didn't know what to say.

She wanted to say no, that she didn't feel anything for him in that sense, and that she just wanted to be friends. But to imagine what kind of pain that would bring...He had already lost Pyrrha, and to loose another romantic partner now, and yet have to deal with seeing her all the time?

No, she needed to tell him the truth before things got too out of hand. If she kept it a secret, Jaune would try to ask her out or something, and she would be far too awkward about it to seem real about anything. She needed to let Jaune know that she didn't romantically like him.

"Look, Jaune," Ruby began, knowing that Jaune knew where this was going, "I like you, but not like that. You're my best friend. You were and still are always there for me in the hard times I've went through. And even when things were absolutely terrible for you, you kept moving forward."

Jaune's gaze went down, stinging Ruby's heart. He was not liking the way this was going.

"And that's what makes you so cool!" she continued, "And you're just...so awesome. You're a great guy, Jaune, but I-I well, don't 'like' you like you 'like' me. I guess...well, I guess we're just not meant to be. Or maybe just not yet! I mean, it could take a little while-"

"You like Oscar, don't you," Jaune cut in, his voice low like his head was, "That's why you don't love me like I do you."

Ruby felt her heart speed up even more in her chest.

"Well, hey, I never said that-" she said quickly, panic rising high up inside her, "I just said I didn't have those feelings for you!"

"Yeah, but you and him are always talking and that kind of stuff," Jaune said, "You even pecked him on the cheek when he packed up your tent for you before we left."

Ruby sighed and looked down, unsure of what to say. She felt like any word she said would ram her into a wall. She felt trapped.

"Well, maybe, but that had nothing to do with-"

"Of course it does!" Jaune broke in again, his voice rising with his temper, whether it be anger or sorrow or the two mixed together, "You can't exactly love two people at the same time! At least, not that I know. If you love Oscar, then you don't love me! It's simple logic, Ruby."

"Okay, fine!" Ruby yelled, "I like Oscar! But just because I do, it doesn't mean you get to be all mean and stuff to him, okay?! Don't get mad at him because I feel this way towards him; it isn't his fault at all!"

"Great!" Jaune shouted back, standing abruptly from his seat, "Because I don't need another girl! I've already had my first one die after kissing me and and shoving me into a locker; why should I expect another to come flouncing up to me?! Everyone at Beacon was right; I'll never amount to anything, and I'll never be the hero."

"That's not true!" Ruby cried, "You've been the hero before, and you're just as worthy of being one as any other huntsman with fancy training and weapons. It's your heart that qualifies you!"

"So what," Jaune said quietly, his voice cracking with emotion and his eyes on the brink of tears as he sat back down and bowed his head, "If I can't save my own teammate, my own love, how can I be the hero? My heart is unmendable, Ruby. Unmendable."

He sniffed and stared at the floor, making Ruby's heart break. This conversation had escalated very quickly, and had switched abruptly from romance to Jaune's hero status and self doubt. Both topics weren't good. Both hurt. Bad.

"Jaune," Ruby began, tears beginning to fill her own eyes, "A-are you okay?"

Jaune looked slowly up at her, eyes sparkling with tears and holding a heart wrenching look in them. "No."

"Is this all because of you liking me?" Ruby asked, "Or is it more?"

"Hey, you two loudmouths need to pipe it down over there!" Maria's old voice called from somewhere in the center of the house, "We're trying to discuss the game of chess!"

Jaune just stood up and began walking towards the door. He turned his head and looked one more time at Ruby with his pained expression. With his hand on the doorknob, he sighed.

"Both," he answered, opening the door and walking through it, very, very slowly.

Then Ruby, unable to take it any longer, burst into tears, the memories of her nightmare reoccurring again, along with the fact that she had just broken his already shattered heart and made him feel horrible again.

"I'm sorry, Jaune!" she sobbed, "I'm so sorry!"

As Jaune left the room, closing the door gently behind him, he heard her cry those last five words, and another pang of guilt and sorrow splashed over his stinging heart.

"I am too."

"Good morning, Miss Schnee," one of the few cheery maids of the Schnee Manor greeted her. She sett a hot tray of fluffy white pancakes onto the table in front of her, along with a pitcher of maple syrup and a bowl of assorted fresh berries.

"Good morning," Weiss answered with a yawn. She was very tired, as she had stayed up late into the night at the afterparty. Jacques had wanted her to stay as long as the guests did, which meant that she would be there at least to midnight.

And nearly everyone had left except for that one lady, the one with the tight red dress and gold earrings who was likely married to the gentleman who had complimented Weiss near the beginning of the party.

Once the clock had struck midnight, the woman and Jacques had left the banquet room, hand in hand as if they were a couple, to an unannounced location, leaving Weiss alone with only a few maids and butlers clearing the room and starting to clean it.

Either he was assisting her home, or assisting her to his room, she thought bitterly as she watched the maid continue adding breakfast items to the table in front of her, Why should I be surprised?

"Master Whitley has said that he will be arriving for breakfast shortly," the maid announced after she put one final pitcher of milk beside a platter of pastries, "Is there anything you need?"

"No, thank you," Weiss said, looking up at her, her head resting on her hand. The maid nodded sweetly.

"Alright then," she said cheerfully, taking hold of the empty breakfast cart, "Enjoy your meal." And with that, she walked briskly away, soon to return to fill her cart up with dishes and the leftovers of the breakfast.

Weiss sighed and absently reached for a small, cream filled pastry, ignoring the fact that the cream was beginning to leak out onto her hand. She took a small bite and chewed if very slowly, swallowing it with a gulp of juice.

Then she continued to slowly eat at her pastry, staring off at a distant part of the wall across from her as she did so, thinking about nothing in particular and just drifting off, slowly chewing on the sweet, sticky pastry.

The large grandfather clock in the corner of the large dining room suddenly clicked, setting off the hour bells in a loud, clanging melody. It repeated twice, then made a loud clang, nine times.

It was nine 'o clock. She had been sitting there for half an hour already.

She jumped, startled by the loud clock, and then realized that she had been unconsciously licking her hand of the sweet cream that had leaked all over it. Disgusted, she quickly began wiping it off on a lacy napkin that was folded neatly beside her.

"You shouldn't eat so messily," she heard a smooth voice say in front of her.

Looking up, she met eyes with her brother; sky blue with sky blue. He smirked, his slick, Jacques smirk, making Weiss want to smack him and kick him to the ground. But instead she rolled her eyes with a weird smile.

"Oh, what's that I heard the maid say?" she said with mock accusation, "'Master Whitely is coming to breakfast soon'. Oh, and he's going to show up half an hour later." She shook her head.

Whitley sat formally down and carefully tucked a napkin onto his lap. He made another Jacques smirk before neatly picking at the various items on the table and slowly filling up his plate.

"Why are you so late?" she asked him, sitting up straight, "I thought you were normal early."

"Well, sometimes the heir of the Schnee Dust Company has a lot more to worry about that eating breakfast," he said smoothly, rising up the familiar anger in Weiss' chest, "But, seeing as it's considered the 'most important meal of the day', I couldn't exactly refuse it."

Weiss rolled her eyes and spooned some fruit onto her plate. "Okay."

"So," Whitley said, folding his hands and setting his elbows on the table, "Why exactly are you home? And with such confident satisfaction?"

"What, is it hard to believe that I could actually enjoy luxury and safety like this?" she answered a bit defensively, but careful to avoid any possible signs of lies or fallacy.

"Well, it's just not like you," he responded, looking slightly to the side as he thought, "You always seem to do nothing but rebel and fight whatever Father wishes for you to do or experience. I could always see it, in just about everything you did. But this, I will admit, has surprised me."

Weiss felt herself inwardly scream in panic.

Oh my gosh, WHY is everyone suddenly seeing through this?! Mother is unconvinced; Whitley is doing his annoying questioning thing...If I mess up, things could get bad...or could they? Technically, I don't NEED to be at home. We just needed me to get into Atlas...

Floating back to the present, she shook her head slightly.

"Like I'm just a robot and not a human being," she said, partially joking, "I can play a surprise just as good as you ever could."

"And then comes up your long buried away childhood sibling rivalry," Whitley said flatly, as if he were her parent, "Another off thing about you since you came back."

"Excuse me," Weiss said, feeling her temper rise, "My business is my business, not yours. Gloat all you want about having snatched my title of heiress; I don't care!"

"You mean, that Father gave to me," he corrected, "You were the one who angered him into doing that."

Weiss' hands balled up into tight fists and her cheeks began to glow. She stood abruptly up, officially ticked, and leaned forward angrily at her brother, her face infuriated while his was calm and smug.

"He didn't have the right to take that from me," Weiss exploded, "And you certainly don't deserve such a well honored position like that, you-you spoiled little brat!"

"Calm down now, sister," he said, still calm as ever, "Have a seat and stop fuming. It's not good for your complexion."

"Oh, it's not good for my complexion?!" Weiss said, even more enraged, "Ha, you're not good for my complexion! You want to know how? Because your haughty, prideful insults that you shove in my face, yelling, 'I'm better than you; Father loves me more' turn me into a monster! And I bet monster-complexion isn't very benefiting!"

Whitley seemed taken aback and disgusted. "You ungrateful rebel," he began.

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty," a tired, female voice said from above them, "Now shut your mouths and finish eating. I'm sure none of the maids appreciate having to clean up late."

The two siblings looked up to see Willow standing on the balcony above them, wearing a formal, white and blue dress that she had likely threw on from her wardrobe only a minute ago. Her hair wasn't put up like normal, but was in a large, messy mop that fell down around her shoulders.

She would've looked quite beautiful if her face pointed out exactly what she probably had been doing last night. Tired lines were under her eyes, accompanied by a light purple shading. She looked sick and tired.

"Good morning, Mother," Whitely greeted formally as she made her way into the dining room, "I was just explaining to Weiss how she needed to humble herself in the presence of this family, not go all out about how she's 'special'."

Weiss gasped.

"I am a part of this family!" she yelled, "I have every right to be equal in every way to-"

"Shut up," Willow said, so loudly and sternly that it echoed through the long corridor close by, "Both of you. I'm sick and tired of you two squabbling all the time, even if it isn't exactly about childish matters."

She grabbed a cup and messily poured some water into it, spilling some on the table cloth and then the floor as she walked, somewhat staggering a little, to the corner of the room. She leaned up against the wall and took a long drink.

Weiss and Whitley both exchanged dagger eyes before quickly composing themselves just in time for their mother to open her eyes and look back at them, glaring.

"I'm sorry," Weiss said, sitting back down and then taking a quick bite of her fruit. Whitely also resumed his eating, eating every item slowly and with a generally picky attitude. Willow just stood there, her cup to her lips despite the fact that it was empty.

"Wouldn't you agree that she has been acting rather strange since coming home, Mother?" Whitley asked, dabbing his mouth with another napkin that was folded by him. Willow mumbled something darkly and then finally said,

"So what."

"So you do notice something," Whitley said, giving Weiss a 'I've got you again' look, smug and haughty, "Because I find it very obvious-"

"Yes, she seems different, but so what," Willow continued, "Why is it of my concern? Should't I be as numb to my own children as Jacques is to you? We are, after all, your parents. Maybe I should follow his role model."

"Father is very caring of me," Whitley stated, somewhat defensively, "And it sickens me to hear someone such as yourself speak so ill of him."

Weiss felt her face flame up again. Whitley had just disrespected his own mother so casually, and right in front of her! He was dead; he was SO dead.

"I'm sure it's less disgusting to hear your own son speak ill of you," Willow replied, still sounding numb and exasperated, as if she was just done with living, "But seeing as I haven't much of a reason to care about anyone in general, I don't care."

"Drink your booze," Whitley answered sharply before turning back to his food, staring down at his plate with a bitter expression that Weiss had never seen before, "No sane person cares."

Weiss felt a large rush of anger, confusing, and sadness wash over her. Whitley had just been extremely rude to his mother, not apologized, of course, and had simply continued on with his meal as if he hadn't said anything bad.

But he had also made a certain bitter face that Weiss had only seen one person other than herself make. It was the bitter look her and Winter would make after being hurt or pained of something. And it was not an expression one could simply fake. It could only be seen naturally. So then, why and how did Whitley make that face?

"Alright, that's enough for me," Willow said as if defeated, "I have another argument to die in."

She through her hands up in some sort of defeat and then grabbed a hot cross bun that was on the table as she walked past, mumbling darkly under her breath again, like she always did when she was either upset, defeated, depressed, or sad.

Weiss looked back at Whitley, who now seemed to be drained of any pride, smugness, or happiness that he had held proudly before, and watched him slowly take a bite of his food, chew it, and then stare at his plate, the bitter look still there, accompanied faintly by what almost looked like exasperation.

Then she looked around at the empty diner, her and Whitley the only people there within a 20 yard proximity of the room, and then suddenly felt a tear rise up in her eye. It was too sudden to stop from rolling down her cheek and too emotional to keep more from following.

Soon enough, Weiss was very, very quietly weeping, tears pouring uncontrollably down her cheeks and dripping onto her plate, her dress, and the table. She just felt so sad, so broken, about this broken family. How nobody talked to each other other than formally; how her father only spoke about wants; how her mother was almost nonexistent; how everything was just so void of love...

She wanted a real family, one like her team had been. No one in team RWBY was even related to her, and yet, they were the best family she had ever had. Loosing someone in her family, other than Winter, would hardly be a disturbance, whereas loosing someone from her team would be a world shattering thing.

She just wanted to be loved. Just wanted her heart to unthaw, but how? Would this family ever be fixed or the shattered shards put back together to form a new, beautiful mosaic? Or would it just stay this way forever...Unmendable.

The minor sounds that could be heard from her echoed slightly in the room, and Whitley looked slowly up from his plate.

And even though Weiss couldn't see him, he cast a small, sad and sympathetic glance at her, knowing how she felt, but not wishing to speak. He was too proud to speak of such things, and he was not going to let go of the little strength he had left from that pride.

*Sniff sniff* Aw man, Ruby broke Jaune's already broken heart! Poor guy...And I'm not really one of those people in the Fandom who google at everything Weiss, but I really pity her. 😢

By the way, if any of you guys following or just reading this story want more/less Weiss scenes, then please PM me or let me know in a review. It isn't really too important whether I have more or less right now, so if you feel inclined, go ahead.

And lastly, I just want to thank you all for your patience with all of my late chapters. Things get very busy somethings (people who don't just sit around playing video games understand) and so keeping weekly posts gets a little hard.

Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more chapters!