Oh boy, let's see how things turn out here, now shall we? Also, if you haven't seen my Valentine's Day one-shot, check it out!

He dreamt of the death of Maxwell Noble.

As he lay there, curled up in the stuffy dumpster, his wind mind wandered back to a time a year gone by, a time which marked the exact moment where things fell apart. A time, and with it, a place. Adams Air Force Base. He remembered it well. How could he ever forget?

Himself and his team, tasked with going through the subway system alongside the Lyons Pride to infiltrate the Enclave base from within and sabotage their mobile platform while the coalition forces assaulted the base from outside.

Immediately, things had gone terribly. Dogmeat, torn apart by the vast horde of ghouls in the underground, more than he'd ever seen before, and he shook and whined in his sleep as he remembered the sight of his loyal hound ripped in two by a reaver.

That had just been the brutal beginning. The trek through the underground had been grueling, and it was a welcome sight, the robot guards that protected the open entrance up to the base. They had shattered the guards and fought their way back up, immediately striking out across the surface to get to the mobile base. Among their number, was Fawkes, the twins, Sarah and, of course, Maxwell Noble.

They'd reached the mobile base crawler while most of the Enclave's troops were deployed fending off the coalition forces, not least due to the help of his new Tesla Cannon. They infiltrated the platform, quickly fought through it and gotten to the missile controls. They ordered a strike right down on themselves, evacuating afterwards. The strike had crippled the Enclave's base and then annihilated morale, leading to a rousing victory.

But of course, he had been there. How could Special Agent Bishop Beauvais be anywhere but there, fighting to his last breath for his country. To the last breath, to Maxwell Noble's last breath. Too young, they'd said. He'd heard them say it, all the survivor's who'd lived on after that day, who'd known Max in the days before. They'd all said that he was too young, too good. He was a stupid dork, sure, but people liked that. He always managed to put a smile on their faces. He was a good person, and his loss was a tragedy. All the worse then, that his death had been slow and painful. It was at Adams Air Force Base where that good young man had been so fatally wounded, but it was in the weeks after that he drifted away.

That was where the dream brought the Lone Wanderer, it brought him back to the young man's bedside, to watch him as he lay dying.

There had been some hope for him. The Lone Wanderer remembered how he'd trekked out on a final mission, chasing after a final hope, the last thing that could preserve Max's life. But he'd failed. He'd failed, utterly and completely.

"It's all your fault," Bishop says. "There's no one to blame but yourself. If you were a better person, then Max would still be sitting back in the Citadel, laughing, a member of the Lyons Pride. He'd be there, and he'd be happy.

"But you're not a good person; you're you. And you are awful. You are weak. Were you stronger, you would have won at Adams Air Force Base. You would have beaten me. Had you been better, then you would have succeeded.

"You have not. Your failure is your own. You just can't seem to stop doing that, can you? Failing. Losing. Letting down everyone you come across. They all wind up leaving.

"Always."

The Lone Wanderer pried his eyes open. The only source of light that spared him any respite from the darkness was a single shred of the sun that cut through the narrow gap in the dumpster's lid. It was still achingly bright, and he was still incredibly tired, so he closed his eyes again.

When he opened them, there was no light at all. His head ached, but there was no longer any exhaustion in his mind. In his body, for sure. Everything hurt, every muscle ached and evert bone felt like it had nearly been broken. Hell, maybe a few of them were broken. He'd been taken to the hospital, after all.

He groaned. Eventually, he'd need to get up. Eventually… but not now…

The dumpster shuddered as it was opened. A bright light shone down on him, pale and piercing. A flashlight.

"Well what do we have here?" someone asked. He didn't know who it was, recognizing neither the voice, raspy and drawling, nor the face, grimy and unkempt. It was a figure that wouldn't have been out of place back in the wasteland. "Come here, boy!"

The wasteland.

The man reached down and grabbed the Wanderer, then grunted and hauled him up out of the dumpster, slamming him down the hard concrete of the alleyway.

That wasteland.

"Let's see what you got on you—"

And those were his last words. The Lone Wanderer didn't know the man's name. He didn't know his past, but he did know his present, and he certainly knew his future. He pumped his head up and cracked it against the man's own forehead, making him cry out and stumble back, falling against the alley's wall. The Wanderer's aura had recovered enough to spare him from harm, given him strength enough to crack the other man's skull. And now the adrenaline gave him will enough to finish it.

He grabbed the man by the neck and squeezed. He squeezed and he squeezed, no matter how much the stranger squirmed or slapped him. He kept his grip tight and unyielding, a horrendous snarl on his face as he choked the other man to death. And when the man stopped moving, he started punching. He started punching, to make it done. Blood splattered up and covered his fists, his face. He tasted iron as it seeped into his mouth and stained his teeth.

What a way to wake up: murder.

He stood there for a while. A long while, in fact. He looked down at the man before him. It was dark, and he couldn't even make out a single detail. He hunched over and tried to get a view of his face. He picked up the man's flashlight and shined it down on him.

Then he cried out and started back when he saw his own, as if he had been looking in a mirror. His own face, purple and swollen, staring back up at him, eyes accusing and spiteful.

And a moment later, it was gone. There was no body, no blood. There was only him, sitting there, shaking, alone in a dark alleyway all by himself, and now not even a hallucination was there to give him company.

He couldn't say anything. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't even think anything. It was all he could do, to simply be. To be there. That was all.

It had taken him… well, he had no idea how long it had taken him to reach Beacon. He didn't even have any idea how long it had taken him to get up on his own two feet again. Honestly, he wasn't even sure how he'd managed to make it Beacon. Maybe he'd asked someone for directions, maybe he'd hitched a ride, maybe he'd found his own way through latent memory or maybe he'd simply picked a direction and gotten lucky.

But no matter how it was done, he'd returned to Beacon. The shattered moon was low in the sky, drenching him in a flood of silvery light as he stumbled through the courtyard. He limped and wheezed as he went, still covered in grime, though he'd changed out of the hospital robes and into his charred, torn outfit that he'd worn back the docks, which was among the things kept at the hospital for him. He held Crocea Mors and the Magnum, but he still needed his tesla rifle, not to mention the stimpaks and everything else he'd taken with him from Earth. No matter how much he wanted to leave, he'd need to risk a short return to get what he needed, then escape to his cave, rest some more, recover what little else he had, and leave.

Leave, and never come back. Leave, and return to the life of the Lone Wanderer.

He felt terrible. Everything was sore, but aside from that, it felt as if someone had poured lead down his throat, such that his throat was tightly clamped and his stomach was heavy. This terrible weight pressed down on his shoulders, forcing him to stoop over. This, this was a pain unrelated to his injuries.

He trudged across the courtyard and into the halls, blearily looking ahead of him. No one stopped him, for there was no one around so late at night. That was good, since he didn't think he'd be able to resist should it come to it. The adrenaline that had been pumped into him during his violent little hallucination had worn off by now, and he was left with only his own weary skin and bones to haul him through the school, towards his locker.

He reached the locker room quickly enough, and when he passed by the showers, he couldn't resist.

It was hot and long, his shower. He stripped off his ratty clothes quickly, knowing he kept another spare in his locker, and stumbled into the stall, turning the water on immediately. It instantly became scalding hot, spewing steam through the air and turning his skin pink. Only his aura kept him from being burned. He wanted the sensation, the feeling, the physicality, to make him certain he was really there.

The water washed over his many scars, which he idly traced with the tips of his fingers as the time passed by. Some, he could hardly feel, the faint remains of scrapes and cuts. Others were nastier, the remnants of bites, burns and bullets.

That was what he could expect now. He was going back there, back to the life that he had lived on Earth, back to the violence and the uncertainty. This was the moment of his return, back to the wild, unknown and savage places where he belonged.

Was he really going back to that life? Was that really what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go?

He turned off the water. The steam settled. His skin was left raw and bare. He became cold.

After a while longer, he staggered out of the shower and toweled himself off. He roughly ground the cloth into his skin, feeling the dragging sensation, feeling the coarseness. Feeling. Feeling. That was all he wanted right then, all he could desire.

Once he was dry, he pulled on a fresh pair of clothes, though he still managed to feel dirty in a strange way. He hauled all the necessary equipment out of his locker, carried in his large duffel bag, all the holdovers from Earth he still possessed.

His fingers shook as he hauled it up over his shoulder. His legs ached as the additional weight was added on. It was hard enough just to carry himself, let alone everything else. For a moment, he considered taking another stimpak, but the thought quickly left his mind. It would be a terrible waste, taking one of those when he was just tired, when another week of rest with his aura would have him good as new.

No, he'd drag himself outside and crawl through the Emerald Forest, back to his cave. But the Emerald Forest was full of Grimm, what happened if you were attacked? Then I'll fight them off. And if there are too many? Then I'll run. And if they chase you down? Then I'll die.

That's the point of it all, anyways.

He squeezed his eyes shut as images of his friends came into mind… images of Ruby. The look on her face, if she ever heard the news of his death. He couldn't bare to so much as imagine that look… the horror and the pain. But what if she never got the news? Wouldn't that be better? If he just walked away, and she never heard of him again? That would be better.

Would it, though? Would it really? How many nights would she be kept awake, thinking of him? How many times, would she be struck by a thought of him during an idle period, and wonder if he was alive and if he was doing well and if she could have done things differently? How much pain would be drawn out over how much time? How much would she blame herself? How much of a failure would she perceive herself to be?

And how long would it take for her to forget?

For how long, would she think of him daily? Weekly? Yearly? When would it be, what would be the date, when the last thought of him passed through her mind, never to return? How long would it take, for him to be erased, absolutely? How long to reach that time, when it would be as if nothing had even happened in the first place? And what would that final thought be like? Would it be sweet? Angry? Scared? Bitter?

And who would come after him? Who would replace him? Would anyone? Would there be another like him, another guy who would listen to music with her, play video games with her, eat ice cream with her, practice with her, work with her, laugh with her, hug her, comfort her; would there be another, to live with her the way he had?

The way he wanted.

He closed his eyes and brought his hands to his face. For a long while, he stood there, trying his hardest to think of nothing, nothing at all, so he couldn't be hurt.

That was what is was all for… getting nothing, finding nothing, maintaining nothing, to stop the pain.

Breathe deep. Hold. Release.

He sighed and left the locker room. He limped along, dragged himself through the corridors, hoping that no one would stop him. Hoping that no one would face him now, when he was too weak to do anything other than acquiesce. He just… he just needed to be away from it all. He needed to be gone. He needed to leave.

What he'd done before, he'd do now.

He exited the building and made his way through the courtyard, toward the Emerald Forest, before he turned back to look over his shoulder. Just one last time. Just one last look, to remember the school.

He took it in, the large buildings and the great tower with its great light, the swaying trees and…

The garden. The Beacon garden, the most beautiful place he'd ever visited, the place of his dreams. No, the place beyond his dreams. He'd never dared to think that anywhere so incredible as there could ever really be real, or that he'd ever get the chance to see it.

Just one last chance. Just one final look, to have a memory, to have something to look back on. Just one last time, let him sit among the flowers. Then he could remember it, and in his dark future, he'd always be free to look back and think fondly upon such a recollection as this. Something as sweet and nice as the garden… he needed it.

He needed something that was just like that, something pure and kind, something that would never judge him, something that could make him smile, something that didn't have a drop of malice within it, something that could make him forget about the bad things.

He needed something… someone…

He shook his head. No, no he needed nothing, and no one.

Nevertheless, he trudged forward. He didn't need it… but he wanted it. So, he meandered into the garden and, with a great sigh, sat down upon the marble bench there, in front of the cherry blossom tree and the serene pool in which It resided.

He looked around, took in the unique look of the garden, with all the petals bathing in the nice wash of moonlight. It was a saturnine view, beautiful but somehow melancholy at the same time. He wasn't sure that he liked it.

He decided he did not.

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. Just breathe, and forget about the things around you. Breathe, collect yourself and leave. Leave, and never come back…

"I knew you'd come here!" Not more than a second later, he felt her lithe arms around him, smelled her strawberry scent.

He froze, not daring to look, not daring to even breathe.

"They didn't think so, but I knew it." Ruby tightened her grip on him, slender arms squeezing him as hard as they could. "I knew you'd be back here." He could practically hear her sweet smile in her happy voice.

For a few long seconds, he said nothing. But then it came, raspy and weak, his voice. "How?"

"We looked at the security cameras to see what happened to you… saw you leave. We all tried really hard to find you, searched all day. We really did!"

"I believe that…"

"But we couldn't find you. That's all we've done for the last couple days."

Days? How long had been out…

"Yeah, and now that we've finally had to stop and come back, I came here to the garden." She sighed. "I'll get in trouble for this, but I don't care. They told me I had to take a break and rest, but I knew that you'd come back here, so I waited. I couldn't miss out on greeting you, after all."

"You knew… that I would come here…?"

"Duh, where else would you go? Of course I knew you'd try to make your way back to us, and to the gardens." She giggled and patted him on the shoulder. "You're kinda predictable, y'know?"

"I… I guess so…."

He finally opened his eyes and looked at her, saw the concern on her face, along with the dark bags beneath her face. She was more haggard than he'd ever seen her before… exertion and anxiety had taken a toll, dampening the vigor she normally had and straining her face with exhaustion. How much had she slept, since he'd run away? He looked up at the night sky. It must be nearing dawn at this point, so low was the moon, so had she been up all night watching over this place for him, waiting for him to come back. Waiting with the slim hope that her failure to find him in the city wouldn't mean failure overall.

He looked at her again, and this time, he noticed a kind of relief, an incredible, happy relief that was bolstered by the cute smile she wore under it. She was so happy to have him back…

"What happened?" she asked. "The doctors said that maybe you had a bad reaction to the medicine and got loopy, so that's why you ran. Is that it? Did you, like, freak out or hallucinate or something?"

Freak out? Yes. Hallucinate? Yes. Something? Yes.

Yes and yes and yes…

But how would he explain it all to her? Why was the universe being so cruel, that it was forcing him to meet with her one last time…

"But it doesn't matter," she said, rising from the bench. "Come on, let's get you the infirmary, I'll wake everybody else up and we can have a sleep-over in the clinic or something like that!" Her eyes widened as her mind whisked her away into the idea.

The Wanderer sighed and hunched over, unwilling to look at her. He whispered, too quietly for her to hear. "Ruby…"

"Won't that be fun?"

"Ruby…"

"Oooohhh, and we can get ice cream and stuff, and watch movies, and snuggle up in blankets!"

"Ruby…"

"Oh, but, different blankets, heh. Totally won't, like, snuggle together or anything… nope!"

"Ruby…"

"But come on, let's go!" She started walking away from the garden. The Lone Wanderer did not rise. He sat there, and it took Ruby a few seconds to look back and realize that he wasn't following. A worried frown fell upon her face. "Are you okay Jaune? Do you need some help?" She skipped back to him, but he rose on his accord before she reached him. She smiled at that. "Nice, now let's get you to the nurse's, c'mon!"

Ruby continued to smile as he glanced at her. The smile persisted as he shuffled a bit on his feet. It continued even, when he picked up the large duffel bag . The smile only began to waver when he turned and took a single step away from her. The smile faltered yet more when he took another step, then another. It was only falling for concern, not that he was leaving her, but that he wasn't in his right state of mind, for surely he'd never be leaving if he was fully cognizant. She called out to him, told him he was going the wrong way. Her smile died upon hearing his reply.

"No, no I'm not."

"Jaune, the school is this way."

"I know."

"Then come this way, silly."

"No."

"Why?"

"I'm not going to the school."

"Jaune…"

"I'm sorry."

There was a silence. It stood between them, absolute and cold. It reigned for what felt like an eternity, before the Wanderer forced his mouth open once more.

"I have to go now," he said. "I don't belong here."

"W-what are you talking about?" Ruby asked. "Of course you belong here!" She ran up to him, got in front of him, blocked him. She looked up into his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I have to go," he said, not even looking at her. "I was never supposed to stay here. It was always my plan to leave." He shook his head. "This was always supposed to happen."

"Jaune, you're not making any sense!" There's was a note of hysteria in her voice. "Why? Why are you leaving, what's making you go?"

"I just have to," he said.

"That's not an answer!" Her voice was high, angry.

He responded in kind.

"Yes it is!"

Ruby wilted before him as he suddenly yelled.

"It's all the answer I've ever gotten, so it's all you'll get!" An ugly sneer sprung upon his face. "You know what happens to people I get close to? They leave! They leave, they always leave!" A fresh burst of adrenaline shot up into him, alongside anger. Much anger.

"I've never gotten a rest, because I've never even been given one! Never! I've never gotten a chance! Not one! Everything's taken away from me!" He stomped one foot on the ground, and the power of his aura made it crack. "Ever since I left home, everything's been hell! Well, I'm ahead of the curve! I'm not letting it tear me apart anymore, so yeah, I'm leaving!"

He breathed heavily, chest rising and falling quickly. Suddenly, the exhausted lethargy that had ruled him earlier was dispelled, if only for the moment. He looked down at Ruby, saw her timid face, the watery look in her eyes.

"Now get out of my way," he said in a flat tone. "I have to leave. Leave and never come back. That's just the way things work for me."

Ruby dropped her head low, looking down at the ground. He knew this would happen. Ruby was filled with passion and vigor, empathy and kindness, but she didn't have the strength necessary to stop him from leaving.

So that's what he would do. The Lone Wanderer sighed. It was only in that moment, as the immediate anger and adrenaline receded, that he realized how he felt even more awful: his stomach was heavy as iron; he felt like he was carrying a brahmin on his shoulders; his throat was so tight it hurt to breathe; his head felt like someone had put his skull into a vice.

He swallowed and tried to push it out of his mind. This was nothing. These people were nothing. Everything, as the wasteland had taught him time and time again, was nothing. Nothing was safe, nothing would last, everything would be lost. There's no defeating that.

Ruby wouldn't stop him here. She couldn't. She was a pure and kind, but there was no practical application for such traits. They were nice, but they could never suffice. Strength could never be applied while such characteristics were maintained. She'd lose them over time, as she failed others and others failed her, as the world brutalized her as it had him. Either that, or she'd never reach her full potential; she'd keep her humanity but never progress into true strength. That, as he had learned, was the true meaning of strength: the absence of warm feeling. He'd had to abandon such niceties when he became the Lone Wanderer, never to return.

So he would take a single step to side, and Ruby would be able to do nothing but stand there as he walked past.

He took a single step to the side.

Ruby took one too, blocking him.

His eyes widened. Honestly, he was at a loss of what to do for a moment. He hadn't expected this. Some complaint, yes, but that had been surpassed. This had to be short-lived. He took another step to the side, to get around him.

Once more, Ruby stepped in front of him.

He scowled. "Ruby, get out of my—"

"No!"

He started back, looking down as Ruby's head snapped up and she stared at him, into him, with an intensity that he'd not seen of her before. Those silver eyes, always kind or concerned or some variant thereof, were now…

Well, they weren't happy.

"I won't let you leave!" she shouted. "I won't let you! Not for a stupid reason like that!"

"Stupid!?" He glared down at her.

"Yeah, stupid!" She matched his glare with one of her own, just as unwavering. "You're gonna leave because us, because you're afraid we're going to leave you? That doesn't make any sense!"

He raised his voice. "I'm not afraid of anything!"

She raised hers to match. "It sure looks like you are!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"

"You're running away! You said you're sick of people leaving you, but you're leaving us! You're the one doing this, nothing else!"

"I'm not leaving anybody!" he yelled back. "I'm not leaving anything, because there's nothing here for me! Nothing! I never let myself get close to any of you from the first place!" He crossed his arms and leaned back as he glared down at her. "I only came here to train and work on my weapons. The only reason I started to hang out with you, and the only reason I ever put up with you, was because you're a gun-nut, and I needed that!" He shook his head. "But now I've got everything I need, so I'm leaving!"

"We don't mean anything to you!? I don't mean anything!?"

"Exactly! I only ever tolerated you!"

Ruby snarled. Anger. Raw, unabated anger, such that he hadn't thought possible for her to possess. "I don't believe that!"

"Well it's the truth!"

"If you think it's the truth, then you're lying to yourself!" she spat. "What about all the talking and playing? What about making friends with Yang? What about helping me back when my friends abandoned me!?" She grit her teeth. "You didn't have to do any of that!"

"I—"

"And now you're abandoningme!? You promised you wouldn't! I knew you wouldn't!"

"I'm not abandoning anything! I told you, there's nothing here to abandon!"

"And I told you that's a lie!"

"It's the truth!"

"It's not!"

He glared down into Ruby's eyes, but he could detect not a hint of weakness in them. Even though tears were welling up within them, they maintained a fierce determination that he couldn't simply stand down.

And within himself, he felt a growing weight, a growing fragility, a terrible sense of loathing and hate and unease. He felt increasingly like a pane of glass, covered in a webwork of fractures that were slowly crackling and creeping out.

He felt greater anger as well, the kind of fury that makes the whole universe seem to condense. The world was closing in, such that there was less and less besides himself, Ruby and the burning hatred he felt within.

"If you try to run, I'll chase you! With my semblance, I can catch up! I can stop you!"

"Why are you doing this!?" he asked. "Why are you bothering even trying to stop me!?"

"Because I care about you, you idiot!"

"You don't even—"

"Shut up! Shut up already! You can't just throw this away! What am I too you, just trash!?"

"You're nothing!"

"That's a lie!"

"It's not! Why are you trying to argue that is!?"

"Because it has to be! Because it can't be true!"

Tears started rolling down her cheeks.

"Because I lov—"

Ruby's eyes widened and she snapped her mouth shut at the last moment, stopping herself from saying whatever she was about to say. The Lone Wanderer had hardly been paying attention to what was actually being said, and now took the silence as his opportunity. He growled and tried to walk around her, but Ruby snapped herself back into action quickly.

"No!" she got in front of him. "You can't!" She physically held her hands out to stop him from walking.

That was it.

The moment her skin touch his, the moment there was physical contact, his anger and his instinct combined to create a reaction immediate and regrettable.

He snarled and violently shoved her aside, throwing her several feet away. She landed hard on the ground and cried out as she rolled away.

Not a shred of a second later, he realized what he'd done. He stopped, frozen, all will to leave and every scrap of anger banished from his body. The world was at a standstill, with nothing moving or making a sound. Slowly, every so slowly, he looked down at his own hands, his own two hands, which had dared attack Ruby Rose. His gaze drifted towards her, lying on the ground. She turned and looked back at him from where she'd fallen, and he recognize something in those eyes. Those pretty silver eyes of hers. It was something he'd seen countless times in the eyes of many. Fear. Fear for him.

"No…"

In that moment, he shattered.

"Nonononononono! NO!" He was horrified. He looked first at his hands, then back Ruby, then back at his hands and so forth, as his own disgust and hatred grew, directed at no one other than himself! Tears welled up in his eyes, and his throat hitched.

"I'm so sorry!" he yelled. "I didn't mean to! I-I-I-I didn't, I—" sobs started to bubble up and interrupt his speech. "I-I'm so sorry!" he cried again. He tried to splutter out some more words, to no avail. His own tongue, his own lips, betrayed him now, in this moment of shock and terror, utterly paralyzed.

This was it. This was all he could do. He hurt people an things, and that was it. This was what the Lone Wanderer did. This, this was why he couldn't stay.

He ran. He threw aside his duffel bag and ran as fast as his weak, shaky legs could carry him. He didn't care anymore for the weapons, or the stimpaks or any of it. He only cared that he get as far away as he could, as fast as he could. He couldn't even see straight through the tears or the panic, He could only run, run and hope he—

Something hit from behind. It hit him, and it hit him dead on. Maybe, if he were in a better shape he could have recovered from that or at least not have been hit too hard, but as it was, he was immediately taken down to the ground, where he sprawled out. His assailant immediately grabbed him by the collar and hauled him back up to a sitting position.

He knew what to expect. Pain. A reign of blows. A string of expletives. All these things and more, he expected.

What he didn't expect, was a hug.

A hug, and rose petals, and the smell of strawberry. All of this fell upon him now. Ruby had stuck to her word and chased after him with her semblance once he ran, and now that she had him, this was what she did. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed tight. Now that she had him, she wouldn't be letting go.

He couldn't pretend anymore, even if he wanted to—which he never had, not really.

He reached around and wrenched her as close him as he possibly could, burying his face in her shoulder and her hood as she shuddered and sobbed uncontrollably.

That went on for… a while. It could have been minutes, of maybe hours, or maybe somewhere in between, but the details don't matter, only the what. And what happened? Well, Jaune Arc cried with Ruby Rose, letting out everything he'd been keeping in.

He let out the hate, the pain, the frustration, the lies, the anger, the fear. All of it. He expelled it all through his tears, exhausting his own emotions until there was nothing left but a tired boy in the arms of the person he cared for most in the world.

He settled down. His sobs became quieter, less violent, less all-consuming. Eventually, they stopped altogether, though only after a while. When he finally went silent, Ruby tentatively pulled away from him, but he only tugged her nearer, so she didn't try again. No, instead, she waited until he was ready, until he reluctantly pried himself off of her and wiped off his face of the spittle and tears and snot.

He sat down on the ground, just beside a pretty flowerbed, and he made no move to stand. Accordingly, Ruby made no move to do so either. She only shifted, that she may sit beside him, shoulder resting against his own.

They sat in quiet for a while, before Ruby turned and asked, "What happened, Jaune?"

He looked at her, saying nothing, but asking for explanation with his blank face.

"I mean, what happened to you? What happened… that made you so afraid?"

He turned away from her, stared at nothing for a while.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she said. "Buy maybe it'd be good to talk about it?"

Jaune looked first at her, then his gaze scanned the garden, fell upon the cherry blossom, up the stars and the shattered moon, meandering everywhere as his worn mind brought all the pieces together for the story he'd never told.

"His name was Max," he began. "Maxwell Noble, but everyone just called him Max. He was born and raised in a nice place, safe. Well, at least it was a lot safer than just about anywhere else in the wasteland. He had a dad, and a best friend, and food and water.

"But one day, that all went away. His dad left, and everything went to hell, so he left his home and looked for his dad. It was brutal, the outside world. It treated him bad… but he kept his head held high. His dad had raised him well, teaching him to be a nice, good person. That didn't mean he couldn't fight, or that he didn't. It was what he'd been trained to do, after all.

"And as he hunted down his dad, he found some help. He came upon two people getting attacked by a group of super mut—a group of Grimm. He helped them, and then they swapped stories. The two were twins, a member of a vigilante gang. For saving them, they agreed to help him out, especially since they had the same goal in the end of taking down the bad guys.

"See, Max had initially just wanted to find his dad, but after seeing all the injustice, all the cruelty in the wasteland? He couldn't just stand by and let it all happen. So he joined the vigilantes, and they fought against injustice wherever they went, as they looked for his dad.

"Heh, he even found a dog too… he was the nicest, sweetest dog a person could ever ask for. He'd rip out something's throat, then be ready for cuddles right after. He joined them, and they all hunted after his dad together. The twins became the closest friends he'd ever known, a bond formed from battle. They stuck together, and eventually, they found his dad.

"He'd left to work on this big project to purify water. A lot of people got sick from all the dirty water they had to drink, so giving out clean water would save a ton of lives, and make it easier to grow crops. Of course, Max and his friends agreed to help. They were making the world a better place.

"Then, everything fell apart. These evil bastards called the Enclave attacked them, wanting to take the purifier for themselves, use it to have control over the people. Max fought hard, but he was beaten. They were too much for him. He wasn't strong enough. His dad was killed.

"They ran away, met with another group of people who were trying to bring peace to the wasteland, trying to restore order, the Brotherhood of Steel. They worked together to try and get the final pieces of the purifier they needed, so then they could retake it and complete his dad's mission.

"They ran into another guy, who helped them out. He wasn't human, but they didn't care. He'd helped them, and he was a good person, so they let him join. He became a close friend too, soon enough. And with him, they succeeded in getting the last pieces of he purifier.

"But they were attacked again by the Enclave… things went bad. It looked like they would lose, but no. Max persisted, and he and his friends… they won out. They fought with their allies and retook the purifier. They brought it online, and it worked. They started giving out the clean water, and they kept on fighting the Enclave

"The fight was hard, but it was going well for them. They were going to win. And as he went, his friends became everything to him. He'd lost his dad, but now he had them. He'd never been closer to anyone else, aside from them. They'd fought together, looked out for each other, depended on each other and trusted each other. He relied on them. They were everything to him.

"But then he wasn't strong enough. He was too weak to keep them safe… and in the final fight, he lost it all. None of them lived. Not John, or Jane, or Fawkes or even Dogmeat. They all died, because he was too weak to keep them safe.

"He nearly died himself… should have died. It was a one in a million chance of surviving, after what happened to him… and he honestly wished that he hadn't lived at all. He'd lost everything. He'd lost his family, his friends. He didn't have a purpose anymore.

"He just wanted to leave, leave everything. But he couldn't do that. He'd joined the vigilantes and the Brotherhood of Steel… there was no way to leave those groups, except for dying. But the leader of the Brotherhood… he was nice… too nice.

"First, he'd tried to convince Max to stay, even offered him a special sword as a reward for his service. But he refused it all…

"So Max just left. When he was strong enough, he snuck out of the hospital and left the camp. He didn't know what would happen back the Brotherhood, but he didn't care. He just wanted to be done with it.

"Max… he just wanted a home. So he went back to his original town, back to the vault. It was his last hope, his last chance at finding a home. He went back… but he was too different. He was too brutal now. He wasn't a good person anymore. He'd been ruined. So when he came back… he tried to help, and he did. He fixed their problem… but they weren't happy with it. He'd screwed up, and he was banished.

"And that was that. That was the end of him. He didn't have anywhere left to go. He was broken… he'd lost everything. Everything was gone. He didn't have a purpose anymore, or a goal.

"He wound up trying to run even further away, running away to a place called the Pitt. It was brutal there… but that was where he was reformed. It was brutal, but he came out of it a new person. All his anger and hate and sadness… reformed…

"So he returned to the wasteland, and his life…

"Eventually, he learned that the Brotherhood had just said he'd died. It probably wasn't good for morale, to know that their poster-boy had deserted. So they just made him a martyr instead, said he'd died. Even had a funeral with full honors, though it was closed-casket, of course.

"He wore a mask, to make sure no one could recognize him. He managed to meet the leader of the Brotherhood and get that sword he'd been promised. Then… then he went to the wasteland…

"He went from fight to fight, place to place. It was pathetic… he was pathetic. He kept throwing himself into danger… just because he wanted it. He wanted the distraction, so he didn't have to think about what had happened.

"And deep down… he wanted to die.

"He couldn't just kill himself… he was to much of a coward for that. So he just went into fights… made his life as dangerous as possible, filled with violence. It was hard… because he hoped that he would die soon.

"But one day, everything changed. He went to hunt down the last of the Enclave, get payback for his friends and family, but wound up somewhere far away, outside the wasteland. He got a new start in a new place. New opportunity… but he wanted to keep living that same stupid life where he was bound to die…

"When he came to this new place… they asked him for his name. He hadn't been called Max in months. No one knew who he really was… and he wanted it to stay that way. He wasn't Max anymore. He didn't want to be called that. So, on a whim, he just gave them a fake name.

"He'd grown up loving stories of heroes. His favorite had always been Joan of Arc. She was his favorite, because it had been his mom's favorite. He never knew her, but his dad told him how much she loved Joan of Arc, how big an inspiration she'd been. So Max always liked her too… it was probably a way to feel close to the mom he never had. But he also liked the nobility, the self-sacrifice, the heroism. He liked it so much, he read all the books about her and even dressed up as her on Halloween, though he changed the name to a boy's, so he wasn't dressing up as a girl, so he wouldn't get bullied for it… though he still did.

"And when he got to this new place and people asked him what his name was… he gave them a fake name. It was just a stupid whim… I'm not sure why he chose that, but he chose the name he'd made up when he was a kid.

"The though struck him from nowhere.

"It was just what had popped into his head. His name didn't matter after all, since hardly anyone would be saying it. He'd go back to being that nameless fighter he'd been before, go back to fighting, living dangerously, until he died.

"Really, he just wanted to die."

Jaune sighed and let his face all into his hands. Ruby looked at him, processing everything he'd just told her. She pressed closer to him, draped one arm across his shoulder and brought him close. He easily leaned over against her, resting against her warm body, still hiding his face. He couldn't bare to look, or to be looked at.

Ruby quietly started to speak.

"Jaune?"

He didn't respond.

"… Max?"

He shook his head, slowly. From behind his hands, he spoke softly, the words muffled by his fingers. "Don't call me that… that's not my name anymore… that's what people used to call me." He sighed. "What a stupid name… it sounds so… so good. It's like something out of a fairytail… what a stupid, good name. Too good for me."

"Don't say that, Max. You—"

"Don't call me that, please." He took his hands away from his face and looked at her. Now, even his good eye was red from all the crying, red and puffy. "That's not who I am… my name is Jaune now."

Ruby nodded. "Okay, okay… I can call you whatever you want." She brought one hand up and brushed away a stray hair that fallen in front of his forehead. "Just don't leave… please."

Jaune closed his eyes. "I… I'm afraid, Ruby. I don't want to lose everything again. It seems like that's all that ever happens to me." His voice was fatigued, hollow.

"Look at me," Ruby said. "Look me in the eyes."

He did so.

"I won't leave you," she said. "None of us will, I promise."

"You'll be taken away…

"I won't."

"You can't promise that."

"I can."

She stared at him with an intensity he had never seen her muster before. It was… powerful. She, she was powerful. He realized it now, what gave her that strength. All the 'warm' emotions he'd long detested. Happiness, kindness, purity, all the things that the wasteland had stripped from him, was what gave her strength. He'd figured all those things to be weakness… things that one had to shed in order to be strong and survive…

"I'm weak," he said. "I'm so pathetic… I threw everything away and ran…"

"Don't say that," she said. "You're so strong Jaune, you've gone through so much. And I promise, that if you can find the strength to stay with us, with me, then we won't leave you."

He gazed into her eyes, and he found himself getting lost there. Her beautiful silver eyes, one of the first things about her he'd ever noticed. They were so unique in their own way, such a pretty shade, but now he saw in them, something more. He saw her confidence, her determination, her will, her care, her strength.

And as he lost himself in that shining silver, something changed. There was a shift, and in that exact moment, it was finalized. She'd always been there for him, as she would continue to be there for him. She'd always been so kind, so nice, so upstanding, so supportive, and she would continue to be. She'd given him her everything. A new feeling welled up within him, though it had been growing for a while, and really wasn't too new at all.

Beside him, just on the horizon, twilight was rising from places unseen, and the first rays of sunshine were peeking up with the coming of the sunrise.

"I… I just want to be happy again," he said.

Ruby smiled.

"We can do that."

Finally! I've been waiting to write this chapter for so long. At last, Jaune gives up on his wish to run away from Beacon and return to that shitty old life of his, which was pretty much suicidal. From here on out, he's going to try his best to be a functioning student and teammate, which will be a whole new challenge in and of itself.

And yes, we finally see who this 'Maxwell Noble' really is. I wanted a way to express Jaune's guilt and regret, as well as his identity problems, such that I could still build it up all throughout the story. I wanted people to get a real sense for how much a change there was from who he used to be, to who he is now. Names play a pretty important role all through this fic, denoting Jaune's different personality at times, him essentially being a different person depending on the context.

I think that a lot of things said and shown about Jaune's past should have some more meaning now. Look back especially at the last five paragraphs of chapter 3. Really, look back at all the flashback sequences. I never refer to Jaune as 'Jaune' during the flash backs to the time before Adams Air Force Base, since he wasn't Jaune back then, nor was he the Lone Wanderer yet: he was Max. I chose the name Maxwell Noble because, like Jaune said, it's such a 'good' name. It sounds like the main character from some typical hero story.

There's also a touch of meta to this, as well. Many of the other stories in this category of fanfiction have OC main characters, who naturally have their own names. I'm kind of playing on this trope here, and the nature of a crossover. He was a different character in a different world back on Earth, with a different name, but now he's Jaune Arc in the world of RWBY. Rest assured, he's not actually an OC himself. He's got Jaune's name and looks, but also his personality, albeit with all the battering that a heavily traumatizing life would give to someone. He's still the same person at heart.

There's also one other major 'meta' trope that I've included, but I can't talk about that yet, it'd ruin the surprise ;)

I hope you all liked it; as always, reviews and/or questions are both welcomed and encouraged!