A little late, but merry Christmas! And happy holidays!
A little early, but happy New Years!
Also, finally just binged vol 6 and it's pretty cool. First half definitely lagged and the moping and anti-Ozpin arc (which was rather forced and prob could've been handled in one episode instead of trying to make it a major focus). The fantasy lore is also meh since it really seems like they've patched it together like an amateur improv sketch over time (Maidens out of nowhere! Relics out of nowhere! Gods out of nowhere! Cool things!) That's just not gonna be in this story. Though I did really like the Apathy bit, and after they finally get around to things again following the Pyrrha statue, things got good with a mech fight and a bit of plot. I thought it was a bit of a waste what they did with Adam. Like, making him a crazy ex is cool and all, but that really reduces the impact of his SDC scar. After all, it blows off what could have been an interesting look at how pain radicalizes people who think they're really doing good. Think they should have had a different radical WF character with the SDC scar if they really wanted to explore the ambiguity of the situation, rather than making that character's sole motivation his jealousy and personal obsession, rather than ideology. At least it's finally getting over the nothingness of 4 and 5. I can't even really recall what happens in 5 beyond people reuniting (and I actually remember liking the reunification scenes, since they were touching) and the final maiden fight. But with how 6 left off, I'm excited to get into 7, will prob catch up over the next week. It seems like people mostly agree the show got better from vol 1 to 3, then a little downhill. Seems pretty good now tho.
Maybe I'm not one to talk about pacing or dragging lol, considering I've written so much with Jaune in therapy or remembering things or just talking. (Hello, we're going to spend five chapters watching this kid play with a slinky and talk about his feelings!) I'll be the first to admit that there have been problems with this fic's storytelling, especially toward the beginning when I was still more of an angsty teen myself who had no real storytelling experience. And writing chapter to chapter, while fun and great for getting immediate feedback, leads to more big-picture errors as I don't have time to look back and consider and edit the entire thing as a whole. I would absolutely make a host of changes to the first 'book' of NATWWAL, which would be roughly chapters 1-18 (mostly just to dull a lot of the edge and make his early character more consistent/palatable at the beginning). I think of roughly chapters 19-36 as book 2, and now we're in book 3, which I've roughly outlined and should end at around 50.
Ah well, this has been a fun learning experience. Let's just get back to it, shall we?
She stared up at the ceiling. Ruby had never felt so tired before in her life.
The exhaustion lay upon her, as if she'd been covered in molten steel which had since cooled and made it near impossible to move. She felt tired in her body. She felt tired in her mind.
The room around her was painted a bright white; everything was perfectly polished and orderly in the long, narrow, low-ceilinged infirmary. There were a few other patients who had been picked up from the Breach, but they all felt a mile away, even if they were only in cots a few feet away. For everyone felt very, very far away. Even when her dad and Qrow and the Headmaster and the General had arrived, they all seemed to be far away.
Every muscle ached as if it was nothing more than a hollow shell, as if her skin was ready to crack and collapse. Every movement creaked and grated. Atlas didn't like giving out too much in the way of painkillers, lest it result in addiction; and someone with aura was given some less than normal, with the expectation being that their immediate need would quickly lessen. That made it all ache.
Oddly, her hand hurt the least. The stump that she didn't dare look at was continually numbed, but she didn't need to feel it to think about it, and just thinking about it brought back the memory of the pain and the panic. It made her breathe faster, and it made tears well in her eyes, and it made her whine anxiously, as if she were about to sob.
But she always screwed her eyes shut and did her best to hold it back.
When she closed her eyes, however, she saw him coming for them. She saw the man with the flaming sword and the vicious Grimm mask barrel towards them. She felt her throat run raw as she screamed, and suddenly she felt her eyes burn. Then a flash of white.
Dad, Qrow and the others had said they didn't know what that crazy white light had been. Just another frustrating, scary mystery stacked up on the situation. A sudden release of aura? Some undiscovered part of her semblance?
She didn't know, but it had saved her. And it had saved Jaune.
Hero
Ozpin had hailed her as such, and the others had agreed.
Lying there in bed, powerless, in pain, confused, alone… she didn't feel very much like a hero. Heroes saved the day and stood proudly afterwards, head held high. Heroes weren't reduced to trash. Heroes didn't get crushed and then barely survive through some miracle. A hero, Ruby did not feel like.
She sighed. The thin white sheets did little to warm her in the cold ship, so she shivered. The chill gave her goosebumps.
And she thought of him. He'd told her to run, and she hadn't. For that, she'd lost her hand, but he had survived. An easy choice. She would make it again in a heartbeat. And now with Ironwood's offer, it would practically be free.
Ruby didn't dare look at the place where her right hand should have been.
It was so easy on paper. Practically no loss. A success. Yet here she was… staring up at the ceiling like some kind of corpse, thinking over and over again, analyzing what she had done wrong in the fight, wondering how she had failed. Feeling like a failure. A failure with a huge, consuming weight on the inside.
They'd told her the others were waiting. Told her that they hadn't left since she'd come here, and they wanted to see her. She didn't want them to see her like this. She didn't even want to talk to them, so please leave now. Leave before I start crying again.
"They're all so worried about you. Some of them didn't even sleep for a long time," her dad had said.
They're in pain, then, because of me.
Ruby sighed again.
The door opened. She managed enough strength to turn and look as a doctor came in, followed by an entourage of nurses. They had with them a cart, the wheels of which needed to be oiled. It squealed loudly and painfully as they dragged it across the polished floor. The indiscernible medical contraption atop it shuddered slightly with the cart's movement, like something impatiently waiting.
Ruby forced her breath to be level.
"You won't feel anything," the doctor told her as the medical crew came beside her. "You'll go to sleep, and then you'll wake up, and then everything will be good as new." His voice sounded cold as the room, clinical. She couldn't see his face behind one of those disposable paper masks, and he didn't make eye contact with her. None of them did.
The doctor flipped a switch on the machine atop the trolly, which had a few other gadgets and monitors on it. The contraption began to whirr quietly, and then he grabbed a mask off of it.
"Just breathe normally," he said as he placed it over Ruby's mouth and nose.
She closed her eyes. The smell was oddly sweet. She fought even harder now to try and take as 'normal' breaths as she could, not too fast or too slow. Her heart thudded. She did her best not to think about the spot where her right hand used to be, what was going to be there very soon. Because of course she'd said yes to Ironwood's offer; it would have been selfish not too.
Her anxiety lessened. Her heart slowed. She faded into a deep sleep, feeling afraid and alone.
"We can't tell her, not yet."
"Taiyang, I understand you just want to protect her, but—"
"She's still a kid, for gods' sake!"
The five sat at a round table in James's battleship. Deputy Glynda Goodwitch, Huntsman Qrow Branwen, General James Ironwood, Headmaster Ozpin and Taiyang Xiao Long. The father had bloodshot eyes with dark bags under them, and with these he looked desperately at the others in the small, dark, steel little room.
"She's still just a little girl," he said.
"Tai…" Qrow leaned closer to his friend. "I don't think we have a choice. She asked about what happened in the fight. She's unlocked her powers finally, and she knows that. She already knows."
"She doesn't know the full scope of it," Taiyang said. "And she doesn't have to, not yet."
"Then when?" Glynda said. Her voice was calm as usual, but the usual edge was softened, just enough to convey a slight well of empathy. "You want to protect her, I understand, but ignorance may prove her end."
"She's going through enough!" Taiyang donned a deep scowl. "She lost her damn hand, and now you want to rip apart her whole worldview along with it?"
"Tai—"
"Think about how much pressure she'll be under, how much she's already under!" Taiyang balled his fists. "Don't you know what that'll do to her?"
"She's a strong one," Ozpin said. "It's in her nature."
"It was in Amber's nature, too!" Taiyang spat. "And then she left on a walk because she needed to take a spare breath and look at what happened to her!"
The room was quiet.
"Don't forget that the Spring Maiden left because the stress cracked her!"
The others said nothing.
"And the Winter Maiden! She—"
"Don't mention her," Glynda said, voice sharp and devoid of the prior pity. "We need not be reminded."
Taiyang huffed. "All I'm saying is that suddenly realizing you have crazy powers and that you're a target for evil people across Remnant, well, that makes it pretty hard to live." His eyes narrowed, and his head snapped back and forth as he glared at the others, one and then another and then back again. "And Ruby's already going to have it hard enough now that she's lost a fucking hand, gods dammit!"
His chest rose and fell rapidly as breathed quickly, unevenly. "So give her some time."
"We don't have a lot of that," Ironwood said, "We can't—"
Ozpin lay a hand on his shoulder, silencing the man. The Headmaster looked James in the eye and minutely shook his head, then turned to face Ruby's desperate father to say, "Taiyang, I think I agree with you on leaving your daughter some time to heal. We cannot, however, hide the truth for too long. That would only put her in more danger."
"She's unlocked her powers," Goodwitch said. She readjusted her glasses on her nose and looked to the Headmaster. "It will only develop from here, and without guidance, she may not be able to control it. Others could be in danger. This time, it was but a taste of her true potential. We're lucky that only Beauvais took the brunt of it."
"You know as well as I do that it was a fluke," Taiyang replied. "You know that it takes longer than that for the powers to develop. There won't be any more progress for a while."
"You can't be certain of that," James said.
"No… but we can be pretty sure," Qrow said. He sighed and scratched his head. Taiyang looked at him, relieved that somebody was finally taking his side.
"See? Come on, give her some time to get over this trauma, before you drop another bomb on her."
"And how do you propose we dodge her question about what happened?" James asked. "She will certainly want to know how she did what she did."
"She will," Taiyang said, "but we don't have to tell her. We can play dumb for a while."
"Won't the uncertainty make her very anxious?" Glynda asked. "A mysterious power unleashed that she knows nothing about, and the authorities apparently don't either?"
"That'd be a bit more bearable than the full truth," Qrow replied. "Even if she'd be pissed later that we lied to her…"
"Oz, come on," Taiyang said, turning to the headmaster. "Can't you see this would be for the best? At least, for her? You don't want her to break, do you?"
Then, all eyes were on the Headmaster.
"Please," Taiyang said, clasping his hands together before him. "Elder Ozma, foremost among the Brotherhood of Steel—"
"Don't go getting sappy like that," James said.
"Listen to a faithful knight," Taiyang continued, ignoring the interruption, "and don't make my little girl hurt any more than she already is."
They were quiet then.
Ozpin sighed. He looked down at the dregs at the bottom of his mug. He tapped his fingers against the table. He glanced at Glynda, then to Qrow; they all averted their eyes, submitting the decision to him. Then he looked at James. The General met his gaze with his own for a full few seconds, before he too looked aside. Ozpin sighed again.
"A revelation of this magnitude may indeed be too much for your daughter in her current state," the Headmaster finally said. "How long would you propose we wait?"
"The festival!" Taiyang quickly said, excitedly pouncing on the opportunity. "Just wait until the tournament. She's wanted to be a part of that her whole life. She can be better by then, at least a little, and the festival will definitely have put her in a better mood."
"That's over a month away," Goodwitch said. "Too long."
"You were going to use it as a test for finding the new Fall Maiden too, right?" Taiyang asked, still addressing Ozpin. "Well you can tell Ruby right when you select the new maiden, so then they can train together, support each other. They won't have to deal with the big secrets alone."
"Part of the reason Amber had a tough time was because she got too antsy, and she felt alone," Qrow said. "Her team was dead, and she didn't know anybody else who could really empathize with her, or any friends her age. If she had…"
Glynda's posture slackened slightly. "If someone had actually been there for Dorothy…"
She trailed off as well, and she even allowed James of all people to give her a comforting pat on the arm.
"Very well," the Headmaster said. "But the day after the tournament, your daughter will know the truth of the matter."
"I just… it felt like things were going right. It was all on track. Then this happens."
Jaune looked down at the slinky in his hands, and Peach reached over to place a hand on his shoulder. He didn't move, limply slouched against the wall.
They sat beside each other at the end of a long hallway. Sitting on the floor beside a janitor's closet, they were left unbothered for an impromptu session. Jaune had never been more grateful to the Headmaster and the General than when he asked for Peach to be allowed onboard for a short visit. He'd left his friends behind and had now filled in Peach for everything that happened, leaving him almost out of breath and even more tired than he had been when he blearily woke up hours ago.
"This is definitely a brutal, unfair thing to happen," she said. "Again, don't blame yourself. Don't blame anyone other than Bishop."
Jaune scoffed. "Try telling that to Weiss."
"I'm sure her words were driven by pain just like your own," Peach said. "It's certainly wrapped up in her own way of grieving, though that definitely doesn't excuse what she said."
"Fuck no it doesn't…"
"It certainly does not."
Jaune just shook his head and fiddled with his slinky. "Thanks for bringing this," he said as he pulled the slinky open like an accordion, then slowly pushed it together again. He idly went through the motion, which at least gave him something to do as he spoke.
"I know it's your favorite," Peach said. "Everybody finds a favorite knick-knack."
"Yeah." He sighed deeply again, staring at the slinky. "I remember how pissed I was when you first mentioned knick-knacks. It felt like you were treating me like I was five."
"Sorry for that," Peach said.
"No, don't be sorry. I was just an asshole."
"Just a little bit," Peach said. "Only a little, and the real assholes are the people who act out because they like hurting people. That's never what you did."
"Hm." Jaune stared at his slinky as it warped and moved, lightly rattling.
"Do you blame yourself for this?" she asked.
"Yeah. I know, I know that it isn't all my fault. I know that. But I know some things are my fault."
"There are always going to be some things," Peach said, "but so long as you don't let yourself get crushed feeling guilty for everything, it's a lot easier to deal with."
"Yeah," Jaune despondently nodded. "I'm an idiot for not thinking Bishop would be here."
"That's hindsight speaking," Peach said. "Hindsight breeds guilt and negative judgement. Don't judge yourself harshly here for something that only now is obvious."
"Yeah." He dropped the slinky from his grip, and it fell into his lap, motionless. He looked at it for a while, before saying, "She's alive. That's a good thing."
"It is. List some more good things."
"I have my team. I have Pyrrha."
"She's a very nice person, yes. They all are."
"I just… I feel it. I feel it like there's a voice in the back of my head that's been telling me over and over that I'm not good enough. And it feels like something in my gut is so heavy and a couple times I've felt like I was going to throw up."
"All from the stress, anxiety and guilt," Peach said. "It's going to be there, and you've done a good job of not feeding into it. That kind of negativity will only grow when you acknowledge it too much."
"Yeah…"
Jaune rambled for a while longer. He went over more og the smaller details of the past couple days, which felt as if they'd stretched out across a lifetime.
"One thing that really sucks is… I don't know. Feeling bad for myself? I don't. I know the others do. Pyrrha looked at me this way when I woke up and I knew she pitied me but pity doesn't do anyone any good and I shouldn't be the focus anyway and…" he trailed off, taking a moment to breathe after the brief word spill. "I shouldn't be the focus here."
"I don't think you are," Peach said. "I just think you're hyper aware of it, seeking it out. Your mind has tuned in to pick up the signs of pity, or your mind just interprets more things that way than normal. Your brain is looking for more things to feel guilty about; that's not uncommon."
"Yeah… I think you're right. I always feel bad when people pity me." He shook his head. "It makes me feel like I'm a burden to them."
"You are not a burden to the people who care for you. They care not because they feel like they have to, but because they love you and they know you would care just as much for them. They care for you as you care for them, and you would feel bad for them and want to comfort them as they go through things. This all because you're good, empathetic people."
"Yeah… yeah…" Jaune picked up his slinky again and toyed with it absentmindedly. "I feel a little like an asshole right now. Left to go talk to my therapist. Feel like a strong person wouldn't need to do this."
"'Strong' people are often faking," Peach said, deftly shaking her head. "And even if they're not, it's not healthy. And I doubt such repression of emotional needs is conducive to their happiness."
"I feel like I may not deserve to be happy," Jaune said, "If I fuck up like this… even though I know it's not my fault. I know that's not true." He covered his face with one hand. "But like I said, there's that voice in the back of my head and it says stuff like this and it sound really convincing."
"Just know that I doubt Ruby would want you to torture yourself for her."
"Yeah… she wouldn't."
He continued to ramble. About Bishop, about the things he understood, about the things he didn't understand. It didn't make a lot of sense, but it felt good to let go of it, to let go of all the details he'd thought about over and over again in his head. And Peach just sat there, willing to listen. He talked about everything from the random smells and sights and sounds of the last few days, to all the little things that the voice in the back of his head said.
"And now she's in surgery. I don't know why she didn't want to see us."
"She's certainly in a very emotional and careful place," Peach said. "She may just want some time to breathe. I'm sure she's not mad at you, any of you."
Jaune nodded. "Yeah, I was afraid she was." Jaune shook his head. "She did it for me. Protecting me. I'd understand if she were angry."
"If you lost your hand protecting her, would you be angry at her?"
"No."
"Well, there you go. As much as you love Ruby, she loves you too."
Jaune looked down at the slinky. Then he looked at his chest. In it, he felt care for her, whenever she was by him, he felt it. "It's hard for me to really accept that I make her feel the way she makes me feel."
"Well, remember what we've talked about radical acceptance?" Peach said with a slight smile. "Some things that are hard but true, we must recognize and accept their existence. Be it painful things that then we can deal with, or good thing that then we can appreciate."
"Yeah…"
Time continued to seep by, and he didn't really know what to say after that, rambling about nothing in particular, but a little bit of everything. He'd let a lot out, and he didn't really want to be away from his team for much longer. Ruby was supposed to get out of surgery by the end of the day. He still didn't know what it was about, exactly, only that it would be good for her.
He sighed. "Thank you," he said. "For everything."
Peach smiled. "I'm here for you."
"Cus it's your job?" Jaune said, half-cynically, half-jokingly.
"Because I care for you."
Despite it all, those words made Jaune feel a bit less heavy. Odd, to feel hollow in the inside but heavy as a whole. At least he had people close by to alleviate some of the pain.
"I think I should get going," he said. "I just needed to talk about this all with you…"
"Of course," Peach replied, "I'm sure your friends would like to—oh, and speak of the devil."
Peach had cut herself off when she saw someone walk toward them from down the hall.
"I didn't recognize you," Peach said to them. "That's certainly a new look."
Lethargically, Jaune turned to see who it was and…
"Holy shit," he mumbled, eyes wide. The surprise was perhaps the liveliest emotion he'd felt since the Breach.
"Yo," Yang said, waving her good arm (that is, the one not in a sling but with a wrist cast) and wearing a reserved, forced smile. "I wanna talk about some stuff, so I'll be waiting outside the infirmary when you're done here." She politely nodded at Peach, then continued, "Not in a rush though, just finish your talk and come by."
"What?" Jaune wasn't questioning what she'd said. He stared at her head.
Yang's hair was cut short. It was sloppily done, such that it was uneven and some parts were sticking out, some strands noticeably longer and all of it a bit lopsided. It was now roughly as long as Ruby's.
"Yeah," Yang turned her head to give Jaune a better view of the damage. "I decided that keeping it so long is a little… impractical."
Jaune nodded. She'd told them about what her fight with Bishop was like.
"Everybody should get haircuts," Jaune said. He grunted and winced as he started to force himself up. Peach sprang to her feet and grabbed him by the arm, and he let her help. "Back where I'm from, nobody who fought had hair like you all." The Brotherhood, the Regulators and any other fighting group with an ounce of professionalism mandated short haircuts, or otherwise at least tight ponytails or buns. "I get that expression is so important, but…"
"Yeah," Yang said. That was all she needed to say.
When he managed to steady himself against the wall, Peach handed him his one crutch. He thanked her through somewhat gritted teeth, ignoring the muted pain from his leg. He also straightened his posture again, put on a harder face, a bit of a scowl. He'd slackened and his posture had been quite doughy as he spoke with Peach, and his face had fallen into a tired, sad look. Now he made sure that he wore a harder look and that he stood straight.
Peach glanced at his new façade but did not comment. She just took the slinky from him as he passed it to her.
"I'm good to come now," Jaune said. "We were just finishing up."
"Ah, cool then." Yang nodded despondently and turned around. As she did, she reflexively tilted her head in a way that would previously have helped accommodate her hair.
"Alright," Peach said, laying a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "I need to get back to Beacon now, but give me a call when you need to and I'll do my best to reply." She smiled at him then, and it managed to make him feel a bit better. If only a little bit.
Then he said goodbye and followed Yang down the hall and through the bowels of the ship, passing by personnel who ignored them as always. The other girl stopped, however, before they reached the infirmary and turned to face him. She flicked a hand over her shoulder, then looked at it curiously, realizing she'd tried to brush aside some hair that wasn't there anymore.
"Huh." She let out a single, humorless kind of chuckle with no smile on her face. "This'll take some getting used to."
"I guess so," Jaune said.
"Hm." She leaned her back against the wall and looked down between her feet. She seemed more detached now than Jaune had ever seen her, more vacant than he'd ever believed she could be. Yang Xiao Long was just one of those people who lived so ferociously in the present that no one near her could be unaware of her vitality. Now, she looked downright wilted.
"I'm sorry," he said. "We haven't talked much… so I don't think I've had the chance to tell you that yet."
"Hmph." Yang shook her head.
"And… the haircut doesn't look too bad. Get a touch up, then it'll be good. I guess you did that when we were asleep? I didn't see you—"
"I just went and cut my hair in the bathroom, then flushed it down the toilet and started crying for a while," Yang said matter-of-factly. She still didn't bother to look up from the floor. "Like, a long time."
Jaune hadn't noticed it at first, too distracted by her hair, but now he saw that her eyes were indeed red and puffy.
"And then I just fell asleep on the floor in there, locked up by myself. Hope I didn't worry you all."
"Oh." Jaune looked at her dumbly for a moment, before snapping back to attention and quickly replying, "No, no we weren't worried. Just figured… you were somewhere around. Blake looked around, and she seemed pretty distraught."
"Ah." Yang nodded. "She'd said it was fine. Guess I was really a pain, though."
"It's alright."
"Hmph. Didn't want to talk to you for consolation."
"Then what did you want to talk about?"
Yang blinked. "Funny thing, I'm not super sure. Just figured I wanted to talk to… someone"
"Peach might still be—"
"No." The word was resolute, the only thing that Yang had said thus far that didn't sound weak. "I just wanted to say… sorry. And to tell you not to hate yourself. I don't know if there's more to it than that."
"Sorry?"
"'Cause I messed up so bad you got your leg broken and nearly got killed."
"Wasn't your fault."
"Was though."
Jaune looked at Yang, and he realized something. Was this what he seemed like to Peach?
"I've been feeling really guilty about it all, too," he said. "But hating ourselves for it will make it worse."
Yang scoffed.
"It's true. I feel like shit, like total absolute shit. I feel like I want to go to sleep and not wake up for a long time, until the feeling is over." He grit his jaw. No time to be pathetic. "But we can't do that."
Yang blinked again.
"I always would take care of her," Yang said, ignoring his words. "I was really mad at Dad sometimes 'cause he didn't do the greatest job at first after Summer died. Now I think I get him a bit more, though. I loved Summer, but the loss wasn't as deep as it was for him. Now Ruby—"
"Is alive," Jaune said toughly. "That's a fact."
Yang sighed heavily, but then she nodded. "Yeah, yeah I know. The world's not ending but right now it kind feels like it is. Or it feels like a big bomb just got blown off and I'm still… I dunno, confused by it. That's how I feel."
"I understand."
Yang nodded again, for there wasn't a doubt in her mind that he of all people really did understand.
"Maybe that's why I wanted to talk to you," she said. "'Cause you've been through worse and made it out alive."
"I'm only here because of the people close to me," Jaune replied. "Ruby, Pyr… you. I know we aren't the closest, but you were the second person I ever got friendly with after Ruby." He shuffled a bit closer to her. "I'm grateful you gave me a chance. It made me feel just a bit better, and when I finally connected with my team, I though about you and Ruby and that gave me some confidence."
Yang, for the first time, looked up from the floor, though she didn't look at anything particular. "I didn't know that."
"I haven't mentioned it," Jaune said. "But I think I should have. Thank you."
Yang nodded weakly, as her gaze slowly drifted back down to the floor. "Not a problem."
"Well, maybe if we can get back to the others—"
"You know she almost died when she was a kid. A couple times," Yang said.
"I didn't know—"
"One time was because of me," she said, evidently not really seeking advice. "I almost ruined everything. I was stupid and wanted to find my mom so I took Ruby and we went out and… almost got killed by grimm. Would have died if Qrow hadn't saved us."
"Well—"
"Which is even more stupid considering she almost died just a little before that, too. It was right after Summer got killed that Ruby got super sick. I don't remember what it was but it was really scary because she just got so nauseous and she was crying and freaking out and…" Yang wiped her eyes. "And I don't remember what it was but I was so scared that all I could do was wait around and see if my little sister was gonna die.
"And here I am again."
Jaune looked at her for a while. He didn't know what to say. He feared that prompting her to talk again might just break her in some way. It was actually somewhat astonishing, to see the legendary and boisterous Yang brought so low.
But this is what Bishop does. He crushes people.
"She's alive," he said. "She's alive. She's alive." It felt good to say that. "She's alive. And when she gets out of surgery you can see that. You didn't fail. Blame Bishop."
Or me. An insidious line of thought in the back of his head projected a vision where Yang angrily screamed at him for his own failure, and he would deserve it. He would deserve it because he was trash and because she was right to scream at him, to look at him with disgust just like Weiss had.
He pushed that thought away, and instead he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It was an awkward little half-hug due to his cast and his crutch, but he managed it. Yang didn't pull away, so at least there was that.
Then she chuckled. A humorless little thing, but it didn't sound quite so sad.
"Funny. The first time I met you, you would have shot me if I'd tried to hug you."
Jaune grimaced and said, "Bad times."
"Yeah." Yang nodded. "Bad times."
"They come and go."
She nodded again. "Guess they do."
"And like I said… I know we're not very close, but I still would like to think we're friends now."
"Yeah… me too."
"So I'm here for you."
Yang looked from the floor to Jaune's cast. Then up, enough that she finally looked him in the eye. A small but not entirely insignificant smile was on her lips. "Thank you."
"No problem," he said.
"I just…" Yang looked away again. She let out a long shaky breath, then stepped away. Jaune almost lost his balance, but managed to stay upright as she took a few steps and crossed her arms across her chest. "I just wish… I could be stronger."
"We can train," Jaune said. "The second I get out of this cast. Pyr and I talked it over earlier. We're going to train every second we can."
Yang's eyes tinted red. "I'd like to tag along for that."
"Absolutely."
In the Vale countryside, there are a number of small villages. People live behind walls and tend to farms and pastures beyond them. They get their life from the land and keep it by hiding when grimm come. Many of these places live relatively peacefully in a dangerous world. Plenty, however, face destruction in the face of the dark monsters that roam the land. The ruins of such places can be found by wanderers and mourners, now just informal graveyards.
Miles outside of Vale, one old ruin had been overrun by nature in the years since its fall, now submerged in a forest. A modest town of barely a thousand had been laid low by the monsters, and it had been left abandoned ever since. Only a few sad stone buildings stood within the crumbling walls.
If one looked closely, however, one would find that there was movement in the abandoned village. Under cover of the trees, figures clad in black moved quickly. They resided in the basements of the destroyed homes; underground they slept; underground they kept their weapons, their armor and their gas masks.
There was one house in particular, in the very center of town, which always had a guard beside the door leading down to its cellar. The basement was empty aside from a few other guards—and a sturdy steel door.
Only two people had access to it. One was Lieutenant 42, a high-ranking member of the organization who took orders from only the Commander in Chief himself. The other was Medic 3, the group's premier doctor. The others knew someone else resided in the room, but they knew not who it was. The soldiers never knew the grand scheme of things, lest they be captured and the information extracted; as loyal as they were, they all knew that torture could break someone, or a bizarre semblance could steal their secrets.
Behind the mysterious door was something of a cramped studio apartment, what may once have been a spare room for guests. A small room with just a bed, a kitchenette and another door which led to a bathroom. The toilet flushed.
Bishop Beauvais clenched his teeth. The toilet finished flushing behind him as he stumbled out of the bathroom, leaning heavily on a cane. His legs shook as he doggedly trudged a few feet, then collapsed onto the bed. The cane fell aside and clattered on the floor. His face was red with exertion, and he also wore a frustrated grimace.
"Pathetic," he muttered to himself. He gripped the sheets and pulled himself further up on the bed, just enough to lay his head on the pillow. He sighed.
The door opened, and two people entered. They swiftly pulled it shut behind them.
"Lieutenant Round, Doctor Kai," Bishop halfheartedly greeted them. "To what do I owe the pleasure."
The stout soldier took off his helmet, revealing a face with dark eyes and a square jaw covered in stubble. "A basic checkup and some news," Arthur flatly replied.
"Just the basics," said the other. A woman, she wore a white gas mask and a white coat fit for a doctor. She now took off her mask, however, revealing an older face with creased wrinkles and sharp eyes. "Just want to make sure you're not suddenly dying."
"Ah, of course. I would prefer not to, after all," Bishop responded dryly. He suppressed a groan when he rolled over, and he winced when he forced himself to sit up.
Arthur's help, however, was required in order to sit him all the way up, and then he and the doctor both took Bishop's shirt off for him.
Humiliating. Bishop clenched his teeth together, hard.
The doctor set down a duffel bag she'd brought and pulled out various instruments like the stethoscope and the thermometer. These classics went through their basic routines. Then she held up an aura scanner. It glowed yellow.
"Still bizarre," she said. "It seems that your aura still isn't recovering. It's higher than it was even a few days ago, however, if only slightly. I think it's the case that only time will heal it."
Bishop scowled and nodded.
"I see you're still physically incapable."
Incapable. That word sent a spasm of fury up through him.
"Yes," he said, crushing any hint of anger from appearing in his voice.
"Also bizarre," she said. She pressed down on different places along Bishop's chest and arms, making him wince. "I think whatever she did to your aura is actively exhausting you physically."
Arthur crossed his arms and said, "You sure there's nothing we can do?"
"I can research it more, but I've never heard of any weapon or semblance capable of this." The doctor shook her head and placed her tools back into the bag. "All my years in Atlas, and I didn't see something like this."
"Well, thank you nonetheless," Bishop said. A part of him wanted to crack her skull open for failure, but he knew that to be deeply irrational and unfair—better to just think about murdering Maxwell and his fellow degenerates than to take it out on dedicated subordinates.
"I'm just sorry I can't do more," she said. "I'll get to work on the research immediately, but until then… I'm afraid you will just have to rest, Commander."
Bishop nodded and dismissed her, leaving him alone with Arthur.
"Good job controlling yourself," Arthur said. "You seemed like you wanted to break someone's bones, if only you could."
Bishop flopped back on the bed. "So obvious?"
"Only to me."
"As ever."
The room was awkwardly quiet, before Arthur eventually spoke up again with a slight shift to topic. "I've started researching as well," he said, "and I've found some stuff about aura-draining semblances. But none of them exactly have cures." He shook his head and spat on the floor. "And I thought Rose's semblance was just supposed to be speed."
"First: do not spit on the floor," Bishop said. "This place is already unseemly enough."
"Hmph, fine."
"You're excused," Bishop said. He twisted himself on his bed and slowly managed to drag a blanket over himself, which had previously been bunched up by the side. "Second: leave the research to the doctor. I know you mean well, but this is her expertise, and your skills are best employed elsewhere."
Arthur curtly nodded. "Very well."
"Third: give me the reports." Bishop shifted and groaned, trying in vain to get comfortable. "Please."
Without another word, Arthur nodded and fetched a scroll-pad off of the kitchenette. He pulled a usb stick from his pocket and plugged it in, downloading the material which could not be picked up in the black site, remote as it was.
He then passed the pad to Bishop, who turned it on and watched.
Arthur had downloaded a host of reports about the attack. Bishop learned now that it had been labeled "The Breach". Sure enough, the White Fang claimed responsibility and the involvement of his group was limited to that of mercenaries; or people now suspected that the black masks were themselves White Fang. Good.
But he also saw the influence of Maxwell Noble. Much to Bishop's chagrin, an extremely accurate police sketch of himself was being broadcast across all channels, which certainly came from Maxwell and his allies. That degenerate from Earth must know his face well by now.
Bishop scowled. As little as they knew each other, as little as they had actually interacted, both he and Maxwell felt brutally intertwined. They were stark opposites, even if they looked similar. And both regarded the other as the face of the enemy. Maxwell Noble had provided the codes to the purifier, had gotten the tesla coil that enable the Brotherhood's final victory, had taken part in the attack on Raven Rock that killed his father.
Bishop sneered.
But at least now, the operation was an overall success. Maxwell had defused many of the bombs, which was bothersome. Ultimately, however, the goal of striking fear was attained. And perhaps the limited slaughter was for the better.
After all, they wanted to terrorize the people of Vale, not kill too many innocent humans. Not too many. The White Fang may be seething because they didn't get to kill even more humans, but Bishop and his clique were quite pleased with the way it turned out. The humans would now be more wary of the animals, as they ought to be, and Cinder would be at least marginally more trusting of him. Most important, however, was that the population became afraid.
Because things fall apart when people forget to fear. To not fear is to be stupid, lazy, unaware and unprepared. Feel fear, then fight through it. Feel fear, and from it, feel hate. And your hate will make you strong. And if you are strong enough, you will survive.
So Bishop believed; so he had been taught.
He looked at the news coverage, and then an interview with a young woman came up. She was a hard-looking girl, in her younger twenties and with deep violet hair. She wore a dark green shirt, and she sported a black armband emblazoned with a golden sun. The interview was a few days old now, and it took place with the site of the attack in the background, with smoke from the burning wreck of a train still in the air.
Bishop smiled. This. This had been particularly excellent.
The reports told that a meeting had taken place for the New Dawn's protection squads that had just recently been formed. Fortunate, that a group of ex-soldiers, police officers and even a few hunters were ready to help with the chaos.
"I'm glad to have been here," the woman said. She hoisted a spear in one hand. "I'd have felt guilty if I didn't have the chance to help, so I'm glad I was here." She looked around behind her, at the site of the destruction. "In all honesty, I think this might have been a good thing."
"Really?" the reporter asked her, incredulous.
"I think Vale needed a real wakeup call about what faunus can do," she said. She looked dead into the camera with dark, purple eyes. "I think people don't realize that stuff like this is only possible if you get lazy. They aren't comfortable accepting the truth about who are the real problem."
"Okay, I think—" the reporter tried to interrupt her but ultimately failed as the woman said a few more things.
"I just hope people terrorism like this is just the beginning of their plan."
The news switched then, but Bishop kept that girl's face in his mind.
"Her name is Viola Lavender," Arthur said. "And yes, Blair has added her to the possible recruitment list."
"You read my mind," Bishop said, setting the scroll-pad aside. "And I'm glad that most of our aims were achieved."
"Even if Maxwell's alive?"
"Even if." Bishop wore a scowl even as he spoke. "But next time, he and his little girlfriend will end."
"Do you know when this next time will be?"
"Cinder and I are going to have a meeting sometime soon. Before then, our main concern should be with lying low, securing Baron Volker's next donation, keep probing our contacts and making sure that the prototype gets finished."
"Kir believes he's mostly reverse-engineered the finer works," Arthur said. "So all's on track with that one."
"Good," Bishop said. He closed his eyes and winced. All the recent movement had his muscles aching, and now they burned with soreness. "Everything is going according to plan. For now, at least."
It was through General Ironwood's generosity that they were allowed to stay for a few more days. Their limbs and backs were by now stiff and sore from sleeping in uncomfortable waiting room chairs, and they did not have new changes of clothing, and they were subsisting off of the half-decent food from the ship's cafeteria. Still, none of them would have it any other way. Leaving Ruby's side was out of the question.
Oddly, however, the doctor had told them that Ruby did not want anyone to come in and visit. No one knew what to make of that detail, and so they waited with all the more anxiety.
Jaune sat shoulder to shoulder with Pyrrha. They were watching some old tv show that Pyrrha had used to watch with her family. She'd said it was like a bonding time every Friday when she was growing up. It was a comedy game show where a contestant had to guess whether or not other contestants were lying, and the audience even got to play along. Pyr apparently looked back to it whenever she felt homesick, nostalgic or even just sad. They watched it side-by-side.
It was a fun show. Jaune even found the will to laugh a few times. But the best thing about it was that it made him feel all the closer to Pyrrha and the others.
Nora and Ren sat on some chairs just behind them, craning their necks to look better. On the other side of the room, Yang chatted to Blake while Weiss sat quietly to the side, looking into space. Yang had an arm thrown around Blake's hip and had drawn her partner close as they spoke, and the normally taciturn faunus didn't seem to mind. What they were talking about, Jaune had no idea. He did note, however, that they'd been like that for a while. Even if he'd been cuddly with Pyr that first night, it seemed Yang was bringing Blake close quite often, and the reserved girl willingly complied. It was understandable that Yang would need someone to rely on more heavily during her sister's convalescence, and she was a naturally physical person.
Then the door leading deeper into the infirmary cracked open, and from it stepped a doctor examining a clipboard. By his side were Taiyang Xiao Long and Qrow Branwen. For once, they didn't look quite so grim as they had the past few days.
"Alright," the doctor said. "She's finally ready for visitors." Instantly, the seven of them sprung to their feet and clamored towards him, but the doctor held up his hands. "Alright, alright just calm down. She's still tired and might be overwhelmed so be quiet when you meet her and—"
"Guys! Guys! Guys!"
Jaune smiled as he recognized the voice. When he saw her, tears stung in his eyes.
"Look! I'm a robot now!" Ruby yelled as she pushed pass her father, her uncle and her doctor to run out to her friends. She wore a flowing medical gown and a huge smile on her face.
"Weiss, gimme five! And don't leave me hanging this time! Hiya!" She cheered and held up her now fully mechanical right hand. It was painted white in accordance with typical Atlas fashion. Her partner stared at her, dumbfounded. Weiss looked at Ruby for a moment, mouth agape.
"Come on, don't—ack!" Ruby was cut off as Weiss charged forward and wrapped her arms around her, crushing the girl in a strong hug. Ruby giggled, and Weiss laughed.
When the girls pulled apart, Weiss did give Ruby her high-five, hitting the mechanical attachment so hard that there was a flash of aura.
"Come here!" Yang said, scooping Ruby up in her own hug.
"Sis!" Ruby said, "you got a haircut! What the heck!" She smiled and laughed. "Trying to look more like me, huh?"
"Shut up you butt!" Yang yelled, squeezing her sister even harder, causing the younger girl to yelp.
"Stop killing her," Blake said, prying Yang's arms apart, then pulling Ruby away.
"Phew," Ruby said, "thanks for that—"
She was cut off as Blake quickly dragged her in for a hug of her own; this one, however, was quick and comparatively reserved compared to the others, though nonetheless tender.
After that, Ruby turned to look at him. His worry melted when he saw her smile. It felt like a warm flower suddenly bloomed in his chest, opening its soft petals as he let go of a long-held breath, as tight tension was released.
She kicked off in a blur, leaving a whoosh of air and a shower of rose petals as she leapt upon him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he hugged her tight as he struggled to stay upright, crutch clattering to the ground. It was only through Pyrrha bracing him that they didn't fall over. Having her in his arms… it all felt so perfect.
For a moment, they pulled back, just enough to look at one another face-to-face. Her beautiful eyes stared into his own. She smiled. He smiled.
It was only natural, that they both lean in.
As they kissed, everything seemed alright.
The word of the day is: "seemed"
Also, apparently Yang gets power from her hair, which I was informed of and then confirmed on the wiki. Meh, never really mentioned in the show, so her semblance is just damage-empowerment for this fic. Like, they never made a big deal in the show about how the reason she keeps her hair like that is cus she's anime-girl Samson. So Yang gets hit and then she gets stronger, without any effect from hairstyle.
Also, if you didn't already guess, the mechanics of Ruby's silver eyes are going to be different than in the show. Best to just think that I'm mostly being inspired by RWBY rather than adhering to it strictly.