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Remnant Who
By ReaderWarrior
I do not own Doctor Who or RWBY.
Isaac and Ishmael
Beta'd by: -
As always, please comment! It honestly makes my day to read your thoughts and opinions.
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Many things can be found in a closet. Brooms. Chemicals for cleaning. Rags. But what isn't typically seen in the normal day-to-day is the materialization of a large blue box. A wind of unknown source began to rattle the shelves and a sound, like keys on a piano string, cut the air. The words 'Police Call Box' can be read on its upper brim and a single light at its peak flashed with every note and pulse.
The T.A.R.D.I.S, a ship capable of traversing time and space, landed safely in the confines of a small janitorial office.
"Where are we now?" Ruby asked, the doors squeaking as she exited the ship.
The Librarian filed out next. "Well, hopefully somewhere without any aliens. I just wanted to stretch my legs. Also, she tends to get cranky if she doesn't get to move every few days."
"Cranky?" Next came Weiss, who crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "How does a time machine get cranky?"
Wrapping her arm around Weiss' shoulder, Yang jumps out and smiled. "Same way I do, not doing anything fun! Or exciting! Or-"
"Dangerous?" Blake smirked as she joined the group. The doors closed behind her.
"You know me too well, Blakey."
The Faunus rolled her eyes but her smile didn't waver. "Only because you keep dragging us along on your 'fun' trips!"
Yang waved her hand. "You say that like you don't want to come. Speaking of, where's Uncle Qrow?"
Pouting, Ruby crossed her arms and glared at the T.A.R.D.I.S. "He said he was tired and was going to stay inside." Something about 'scouting the terrain' something.
"Eh, don't worry about him. I had ELI lock out a good majority of the T.A.R.D.I.S rooms and their slip-slope access points. Qrow will probably either find the multi-dimension bar or the War Room."
Qrow stabbed his sword into one of the hallway doors like a crowbar. "Come on… I know you're hiding the good stuff somewhere… Where do you keep the booze?"
The door opened slowly as he put more and more force into it. With one final heave, it opened all the way and Qrow fell into a pure dark room. He instinctively reached out for a light switch but couldn't find one.
Stupid future tech!
Qrow stumbled forward, keeping his arm on the wall. He debated Shifting but realized he would be flying blind instead of just fumbling blind. At least like this he could find a-
His hand grazed a small lever. "Ha!" The switch flicked with a simple push and his eyes were flooded with light. Patterns of bright, childish colors filled the room as every wall, floor, and ceiling included, suddenly activated like a set of TV screens.
"Accessing multi-versal feed."
Qrow raised an eyebrow.
A small horse galloped across the screen. "Hi! I'm Princess Twilight Sparkle, and this is Friendship is Magic!"
Thankful his nieces were nowhere near, Qrow let out a scream and bolted for the door. But, to his horror, it was locked.
"My Little Pony! My Little Pony! Aaaaaah~!"
"Nooooooo!"
The Librarian smiled. "He'll be fine. But before we go, put these around your necks." He passed around large laminated ID cards with a big red 'A' on the front.
"Okay," Ruby nodded as she tossed hers around her neck. "But you still haven't told us where we are."
Yang crossed her fingers and closed her eyes. "Please be a monster-fight tournament. Please be a monster-fight tournament."
"Well, I thought we could visit the head of the American government since you had seen the British one," the Librarian explained. He moved to the door and creaked it open slightly. People in business clothes were moving about in a large room. Pillars adorned the sides.
And a large seal on the floor displayed an eagle with its talons clutching a palm branch and a set of arrows.
"Welcome to the White House," the Librarian smiled. He opened the door wide and ushered team RWBY out and into the foyer. They all looked around in admiration at the polished marble and decorations.
"It is pretty white," Weiss nodded.
The Librarian chuckled. "It's actually called that because of the exterior. This is just the lobby."
Blake studied the area and noticed a large group of kids their age. "What are they doing?"
"Looks like they are on a tour. Let's join them, shall we?" He moved across the seal and walked up to one of the adults, a redhead, in the group. "Hello, we're additional students from Seven Oaks. There was a last-minute addition to the number of students and we got lumped with your tour. Sorry."
He pulled out a wallet from his jacket pocket and held up one of its flaps to the adult, most likely their teacher. She studied it for a moment then shrugged.
"As long as they don't cause trouble, it will be fine," she answered before turning back to her own students. "Now, as I was saying, this is the North-West lobby of the west wing. In a few moments, I am told that someone will be here to show us around momentarily."
Across from them, a set of double doors and a man with unkempt brown hair, followed by a tall blonde, stepped up to the kids. He was wearing a light gray suit with a blue button-up and tie. The woman behind him wore a red blouse with khaki pants and heels.
The Librarian made a noise like a cat getting strangled.
"What's wrong?" Yang asked.
"I know him. That's Josh Lyman. I know this world."
Yang raised an eyebrow. "Are they bad guys?"
"Gods no," he chuckled. "In fact, this is one of my favorite worlds. I just wasn't expecting to land here. I wonder what the date is."
"Good evening!" Josh greeted. "Good to see you. You're the group from Presidential… something?"
The blonde leaned forward and whispered, "classroom."
"Classroom," Josh repeated.
The woman that the Librarian talked with before stepped forward. "I'm their supervisor, Marjorie Mann."
"Josh Lyman."
Marjorie nodded before waving to the Librarian. "And this is…" She frowned, realizing he never told her his name.
"Aaron!" the blonde cried, rushing forward and giving the Librarian a hug. "It's been so long! How have you been?"
The Librarian smiled. "Hey, Donna. Long time no see. Pretty good, still traveling. Got stuck keeping an eye on these kids-" he pointed at Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang (most of which waved and smiled) "-while their parents are indisposed."
"You know Donna?" Josh asked.
"Yeah. A few years ago she was having trouble with… something. So I told her about a job opportunity down the road. Apparently, some governor from New Hampshire was running for president." The Librarian smiled cheekily. "Any idea what happened to that guy?"
Josh groaned and rolled his eyes. "When did everyone in this building suddenly start getting an attitude? I'm going to start a list."
Forcing a cough, Marjorie waved back to the students. "Thank you for taking the time to lead us around the White House."
Rubbing the back of his head, Josh asked, "so, how'd you all get here?"
"Bus!" came the resounding response from the students. This earned more than a few laughs and giggles.
Blake leaned over to Yang. "Time machine," she whispered. Yang snorted.
Josh smiled and shook his head. "I meant-"
"They qualified with essays, recommendations, grades in history and government," Marjorie explained. She leaned forward and added, "it's very competitive."
"Alright. I'm Josh Lyman. I'm the Deputy White House Chief of Staff. I joined the Bartlet campaign shortly before the Iowa Caucus then served as the campaign's political director. Before that, I worked with then-Senator John Hoynes for a while-"
"Josh?"
"Yeah?" He turned to face Donna, who had her head down. On a table next to her was a large red phone with the word 'Crash' written on the handle. Instead of ringing, a single bulb at its base pulsed with red light.
The Librarian frowned. "Uh oh."
"What's wrong?" Blake asked.
"Just keep your weapons down. We don't know what's happening yet."
She nodded and relayed the information to the other members of her team, though Ruby seemed more concerned with asking what a caucus was. As they whispered, a security guard rushed over and picked up the phone.
He frowned at whatever was being told to him. "Station One. Code Black, crash!" the guard responded before slamming it down. More guards began running into the room and covered the entrance.
Instinctively, the four huntresses-in-training reached for their weapons. But, at the Librarian's silent urging, kept them sheathed.
Trying to keep everyone calm, Josh raised his hands and said, "alright, listen, something's about to happen. Don't let it frighten you, they need to seal the building."
Men and women in black suits began to flood into the lobby shouting out orders.
"Stay where you are, please!"
Ruby did a quick scan and counted about six of them. "Who are these guys?"
"Secret service. Basically the President's bodyguards," the Librarian whispered back. "That means he's in the building and something serious is going on."
Weiss sighed. "Just our luck."
Yang smiled and clapped her hands. "Just our luck!"
"Everyone, please, stay where you are," another agent ordered.
The first guard - the one who answered the phone, walked up to the large group. "Mr. Lyman," he asked, gesturing to the students and their chaperones, "these kids with you?"
He gulped but nodded. "Yeah. I guess they are." Josh then turned back to the dozen confused faces and did his best to remain calm. "Something's happened."
The students didn't mirror his expression and started to panic.
"Is there a bomb threat?"
"Was there a fire?"
"Are monsters attacking?"
A few students turned to look at Yang, who shrugged. "What? It happens more than you think."
"Um, no," Josh said, casting a glance up at the Librarian (who nodded along with Yang). "I'm not too sure what's going on at the moment. But we are all supposed to stay here."
Donna leaned in over his shoulder. "Can't we take them to the mess? It should be empty."
They checked with one of the secret service men, who gave them a nod. With Donna at the lead, followed by the Presidential Classroom, then team RWBY, the Librarian, and Josh, they all slowly make their way from the North-West Lobby and back towards a food court with tables.
"Right in here," Donna explained. "Just grab a seat anywhere. Right in here. This is the mess. This is where we eat lunch. We'll just... wait here."
The Librarian stopped next to the staff members. "What's going on?"
"Listen," Josh explained, "I hate to break it to you, but even if I did know, I couldn't tell you."
"I see," he frowned.
Donna sighed. "Josh. You don't have to be rude. He's just asking."
"Yeah and apparently he knows you. Isn't it suspicious that a guy from your past shows up the same day we have a crash?"
"You said it yourself that we have these crashes every other day. And it's not my fault I know people," she smirked.
But it probably isn't a coincidence, the Librarian thought.
"Listen, Josh, whatever is happening, I can promise that it is not my fault. Not me or my team did anything." But that doesn't mean we aren't afraid to stop it. He turned around and walked into the mess hall, stopping behind Ruby and her teammate's table.
"Anyone care to explain what the heck is going on?" Yang asked.
The Librarian sighed. "In the event of a security breach, or possibly a national attack, the White House will crash. The entire building is locked down until the Secret Service deems everything to be safe."
"So what happened?"
Looking down at Ruby, he could only shake his head. "I have no idea. But at least we got stuck with one of the most influential White Houser."
Yang smirked. "Who hates you."
Never meet your heroes, he sighed.
Now standing at the front of the room, and facing the large class of children, Josh clapped his hands together and tried to make everyone comfortable.
"So," he said, "I guess we should use this time. Uh, this is the White House, the home of the President and the Executive Branch, the most powerful of the three branches of the federal government."
One of the students raises his hand, to which Josh points. "Yeah?"
"Actually, Mr. Lyman, isn't it true that the Framers made sure that the Executive Branch was the weakest of the three branches?"
Blake leans back towards the Librarian. "Who are the Framers?"
"The original founders of America's government."
The boy continued, adding "Because we were breaking off from the royalist model that put absolute power in just one place. I mean, isn't that why they made the Legislative branch - or People's Branch - the most powerful?"
Josh slowly stepped up to him as he talked and gave a small smirk. "What's your name?" Behind Josh, Donna slowly stepped into the room.
"I'm Billy Fernandez." His voice quivered slightly.
"Okay," he nodded. "I'll call you Fred. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. I don't know how long we're all going to be here, but you just made my list." He turned around and returned to the front of the mess before addressing everyone again. "Yes, I suppose - technically, constitutionally - the Legislative Branch is the most powerful, but we get a motorcade, so back off."
Billy, and the other kids, laughed.
"All right, you already know about the branches of government, I assume you know how a bill becomes a law. What do you want to talk about?" Josh looked around the room (glaring slightly at the Librarian) and sighed. "Guys, seriously, it's nothing to worry about. We've been having these crashes once a week. Let's go. Somebody ask me something."
Surprisingly, Weiss raised her hand. "Why is it that people are trying to kill you?" Without the Grimm, I would have thought we could have found peace, she thought.
"Well," he countered, "they're trying to kill you too."
Not really me. "But mostly you."
"No. No, both of us the same," he said. He chuckled and waved his hands. "Let's go, it doesn't have to be about politics. You're off to college. I'm the guy who knows what you need to know. Sophomore year, my roommates and I got a fish registered for eighteen credits, and she made Dean's List."
Yang smirked. "I guess sea's get degrees." The members of team RWBY clutched their heads in pain.
"My roommates and I made a Dean's List of a different sort, but that doesn't matter."
Ruby raised her hand this time. "Don't you get scared coming to work here?"
Sighing, Josh glanced back at Donna, who shrugged. "No. I mean, we're bystanders basically and and we work around a lot of people who routinely put themselves in harm's way - the Secret Service and the military. You know, the protection detail? They practice a thousand different scenarios for a gun: who tackles the president, who opens the car, who's covering the perimeter. And there's one guy whose job it is to stand in front of the bullet. Not get the shooter, stand in front of the bullet." Josh swallowed slightly. "I've seen him do it."
"My Gods," Ruby gasped as her face went white.
Weiss, equally concerned, asked, "do you ever think about quitting?"
"No." A soft, almost sad smile tugged at the man's lips, however. "Well, uh, my, uh… my mother wants me to. My family members have a habit of, uh, dying before you're supposed to. So It's just me and my mom now and… You guys know I guess, that I got accidentally shot a little bit or something at Rosslyn." RWBY's eyes went wide and they turned to the Librarian who nodded solemnly. "So, she'd like to see me in the private sector. But I tell her my government salary may not be a lot, but I still make more than the guy whose job it is to stand in front of the bullet, so how do I tell him I'm quitting?"
Josh sighed and glanced around the room, licking his lips. "So she made me this box that I'm supposed to keep in the trunk of my car, and it's got a super-powered flashlight, five gallons of water, a transistor radio, and some first aid. But she keeps thinking of things to add to it. She'll call and say, uh, 'I found that cap that Dad got Joe Pepitone to sign for you on your birthday. You wore it to school every day in the seventh grade. You want me to send it to you so you can put it in the box?'"
When Josh looked back up, he noticed that everyone in the room had started to look even more worried than before.
"So... I-I'll say 'Yeah, Ma, let's put it in the box.'" He chuckled and leaned up against a small table by the door. "So anyway, I... I don't know against who, and I don't know what it's going to look like, but one of these days we're gonna have a big win. And for a lot of us who've seen what we've seen, we're not leaving till we do. I'm gonna be here six presidents from now, in my office. Wile E. Coyote, and a map."
Ruby learned back to the Librarian. "Wile E. Coyote?"
"Super genius," he smirked before shaking his head. "It's from a cartoon. Basically, he keeps chasing the roadrunner to eat and fails. But he hasn't given up, and probably never plans to."
"Why doesn't he just get something easier?"
He shrugged. "At this point, it's probably a pride thing."
"So why are people trying to kill 'us'," Blake asked.
"It's not everybody," Josh counted.
"It seems like everyone," a girl from the Presidential Classroom said.
Another student shook his head. "It's just the Arabs."
Snapping her head, Blake let out a small snarl. "That's generalizing."
"Saying Arabs is too general," another student agreed. "It's Islamics."
"It's not Arabs. It's not Islamics." Josh began to move across the room. "They're Juniors and Seniors?"
Donna nodded. "Yes."
Moving to a whiteboard written with the day's specials, Josh said, "You're juniors and seniors. In honor of the SATs you're about to take, answer the following question."
A dry-erase marker is tossed to him (by Donna) and he erased the board. "Islamic extremist is to Islamic as 'blank' is to Christianity." He began to write the question on the board, repeating "Islamic… extremist… is to… Islamic… as… 'blank' is… to Christianity."
Besides the Librarian, none of the travelers had any idea what kind of input to provide.
"Christian Fundamentalists," a boy offered.
"No."
Another kid asked "Jehovah's Witnesses?"
"No," Josh laughed. "Guys, the Christian right may not be your cup of tea, but they're not blowing stuff up. Islamic extremist is to Islamic as 'blank' is to Christianity."
Blake sighed. "The White Fang?"
Josh frowned. "The White Fang? I haven't heard of them but I'll be sure to keep an eye out for them."
"The Klu Klux Klan," the Librarian coughed, hoping to draw attention away from his Faunus friend.
Surprise registered on the White House-er's face. "Um, yeah." He turned around and wrote three letters in the blank space. When Josh turned around, the board now read 'Islamic extremist is to Islamic as KKK is to Christianity' with a circle around the three new letters.
"That's who we're talkin' about," he said. "It's the Klan, gone medieval and global. It couldn't have less to do with Islamic men and women of faith of whom there are millions upon millions. Muslims defend this country in the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps, National Guard, police and fire departments." He turned back to Blake and pointed at her. "So, let's ask the question again."
"Why are Islamic Extremists trying to kill everyone?"
Josh smiled. "That's a reasonable question if ever I heard one." He waved to the group and asked "Why are we targets of war?"
The boy who spoke up earlier about generalizing offered, "because we're Americans."
"That's it?"
"Because of our freedom?" a girl offered.
The Librarian chuckled. "Canada has freedom. Japan has freedom. The UK, France, Italy, Germany, Spain, Australia, and Belgium have freedom. About two-hundred and seven sovereign states in the world and one-hundred and eighty of them have freedom."
Josh looked at the Librarian with another shocked look on his face. "Wow. Okay. You're off the list. But, yeah, right or wrong - and I think they're wrong - it's probably a good idea to acknowledge that they do have specific complaints. I hear them every day. The people we support, troops in Saudi Arabia, sanctions against Iraq, support for Egypt. It's not just that they don't like Irving Berlin."
Donna, for the first time in a while, spoke up and said "Yes it is."
"No, it's not," Josh responded, casting a glance over his shoulder at the blonde.
"No, not about Irving Berlin, but your ridiculous search for rational reasons why somebody straps a bomb to their chest is ridiculous."
"You just called me ridiculous twice in one sentence."
"Hardly a record for me," she smirked.
"And you just made my list."
"Nothing happens on the list," Donna whispered loudly so everyone could hear.
"It's a serious list," Josh said as the room began to fill with giggles. "But she does have a point, albeit college girlish."
Donna rolled her eyes. "Watch now, as he's going to put me down and make my point at the exact same time."
"Hardly a record for me," he smirked. "What's Islamic extremism? It's strict adherence to a particular interpretation of seventh-century Islamic law as practiced by the prophet Mohammed. And when I say 'strict adherence,' I'm not kidding around. Men are forced to pray, wear their beards a certain length. Among my favorites is there's only one acceptable cheer at a soccer match: Allah-uh-Akbar. God is great. If your guys are getting creamed, then you're on your own.
"Things are a lot less comic for women, who aren't allowed to attend school or have jobs. They're not allowed to be unaccompanied and oftentimes get publicly stoned to death for crimes like not wearing a veil. I don't have to tell you they don't need to shout at a soccer match because they're never going to go to one.
"So what bothers them about us? Well, the variety of cheers alone coming from the cheap seats at Giants stadium when they're playing the Cowboys is enough for a jihad, to say nothing of street corners lined by church next to synagogue, next to mosque; newspapers that can print anything they want, and women who can do anything they want - including taking a rocket ship to outer space, vote, and play soccer. This is a plural society. That means we accept more than one idea. It offends them."
Josh pointed back to Donna. "So yes, she does have a point, but that certainly doesn't mean you should listen to her."
"So what do you do now?" Yang asked. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned forward, interested. "What's the next step in stopping these guys?"
"Well," Josh said, "I think for help with that question we're going to need some people smarter than I am."
Donna snorted. "Definitely."
After a quick glare at his assistant, Josh turned back to the students. "Thing is…" he explained, "that's pretty thought to find. But I'm going to go upstairs and see if I can get some of my friends to come down and join us. Listen, I don't know what's going on and I don't know how long we're going to be here. Are you guys hungry?
A rumbling sound filled the room. Everyone turned to look at Yang, who rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "Sorry."
Josh chuckled. "Freddy, why don't you grab a couple of people, go to the back of the kitchen, get apples and peanut butter?"
The boy named Billy, now dubbed Fred, smiled.
"Guys, I've gotten entire pieces of legislation through Congress on apples and peanut butter." Clapping his hands together, Josh started to make his way to the door. "I'll be back in a little bit."
And then he was gone.
Donna quickly jumped to her feet and added, "I think I better go with him. Um, don't go anywhere without letting Secret Service know. Aaron and…"
"Marjorie," the teacher said.
"Aaron and Marjorie are in charge." With that, she left as well. Fre- er, Billy got up and walked over to team RWBY's table with a few friends and asked if they wanted to get some food with them.
"Sure!" Yang smiled, jumping up to her feet. She grabbed Blake's arm and pulled her up. "We'd love to."
Billy nodded. "Great." He, two other kids, Blake, and Yang then headed toward the front of the room and headed into the kitchen.
Meanwhile, the rest of the room began to dissolve into unfocused chatter. "So how important are they to the government?" Weiss asked.
"Very," the Librarian explained. "There's the President. And next in the line of succession is the Vice-President. But in terms of 'power', the second most important person in the United States government is the Chief of Staff. And Josh Lyman is Deputy Chief of Staff."
"So… important?" Ruby frowned.
The Librarian chuckled. "Yeah. And this President is very close to senior members of his staff."
"Have you been here before?"
Casting a glance at the other tables, and ensuring their privacy, he answered in a hushed voice. "Yes and no. I've seen this world but never got to enjoy it. In fact, the only thing I have done is help judge Donna. In my time, and on my world, American politics and its government is… let's say, divided. This world, while showcasing the rift between the two parties of government, actually tends to show how both sides can be right and wrong. It's not a utopia, but… it's hopeful. And I often like to rewatch the events of this world."
"So…" Ruby frowned. "No aliens?"
"Not that I'm aware of. But I have been wrong before. If only I could figure out the date…"
"What do you mean we should go check it out?" Blake hissed as she watched Yang try to open a jar of peanut butter.
"I mean…" she grunted, wrapping her arm around the can. "That we… should sneak away… and figure out… what's going on!" The jar's lid hadn't budged and Yang let out an angry growl. "Did they glue this thing shut?!"
Blake sighed and took the jar from her partner, tapped its lid on the side of a table, and twisted it off.
Staring at the peanut butter, Yang mumbled "I loosened it for you."
"Sure you did."
Yang smiled, "but seriously. The Librarian can stay behind and listen to that guy talk while we go and stop it."
"Stop what, though? We have no idea what is happening and we are surrounded by armed guards in a government facility!"
Sighing, Yang rubbed the bracers on her wrist. Since their upgrade, Yang hadn't taken off the bracelet-sized version of Ember Cilicia. "I don't like just standing her, though. Something could be happening and we're doing nothing."
"We aren't doing nothing," Blake smiled. She grabbed Yang's hand and squeezed it. "We're grabbing peanut butter."
Yang's lips mimicked Blake's. "As long as we don't get the creamy kind. Crunchy is the best way to go."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine."
Behind them, a voice coughed. "So where did you guys come from?"
The two Remnants turned to face Billy, who held a small handful of apples in his hands. "You aren't students. And, no offense, you don't seem that knowledgeable about the government to get here based on school grades. And that guy with you isn't really old enough to be a teacher."
Yang's fingers twitched and she had to fight to keep from clenching her fists. "Listen, Fred, we're just traveling," she said, half lying. "Same as you."
"Aaron brought us here to show us around," Blake said. Is that even his real name? she wondered.
"And how is it that some random guy was able to get access to the White House so easily?"
"…" neither girl could come up with a good excuse.
"I've got my eye on you," he frowned.
A few minutes later, the two groups returned. Yang and Blake passed out jars of peanut butter to each table while Billy and his friends passed out cans of soda and apples.
"We might have a problem," Blake whispered. "That kind Josh picked on is suspicious of us."
The Librarian frowned and glanced over at the kid. Currently, he was happily snacking on a bag of Fritos as one of his friends poked at him and his new nickname. "What does he suspect?"
"That whatever is happening is because of us."
Yang nodded in agreement. "I don't think he suspects we are from another universe, yet," she smirked.
"Let's keep it that way," Weiss whispered, gingerly using some plasticware to spread peanut butter on an apple slice.
Ruby shook her head. "It's just the fear talking right?"
"Yup," their guide nodded. "When people are scared, their minds lock down. That's nature. But that safe space creates a wall between you and others. And anyone who isn't you is seen as the enemy."
"Like Faunus and humans," Blake commented.
"Or Americans and Islamics," Yang offered.
Ruby took a sip of her soda. "But it's important to not see everyone as the enemy. Not all Faunus are bad, just the bad ones in the White Fang. And they're upset at the racist humans."
"And, as they said, it's not Islamics. It's the extremists." Weiss took a bit of her apple. "Fear makes enemies of us all."
"Exactly." Whether it be whites and blacks, straight or gay, democratic or republican. There are good and bad in each. But it is important to keep an eye on which is which.
Suddenly, the doors opened and Josh, followed by Donna, returned. Behind them was someone else, a man in a suit with a fairly long beard. The room immediately began to quiet.
"These them?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"The kids from the-"
"The Presidential Classroom."
The man nodded. "The kids from the Presidential Classroom. Got it." He then noticed the jars of peanut butter and grabbed one from the table closest to him.
"Excuse me," one of the students said. "Are you the guy that Mr. Lyman said was smarter than him?"
A smile tugged at his lips and he cast a glance at Josh (who tried hard not to meet it). "Uh, yeah. What's the question?"
"What's next in stopping the Islamic Extremists?"
"Kill them."
The entire room froze.
"What?"
He nodded and grabbed a spare apple. "Kill them all. Yeah."
Weiss frowned. "All the Islamic Extremists?"
"No," he responded. "No, I mean everyone. You're all bothering me. I want to be left alone. Clearly, the only way that's gonna happen is to be alone. So I'm sorry, but I'm gonna have to let you all go."
Slowly, the man began to make his way around the room. "Except the Yankees and the Knicks. And the Yankees and the Knicks are gonna need someone to play, so keep the Red Sox and the Lakers. And the Laker girls. And The Palm. And we'll need to keep the people who work at The Palm. That's it though. The Yankees, the Red Sox, the Knicks, the Lakers, the Laker girls, and anyone who works at The Palm. Sports, Laker girls, and a well-prepared steak. That's all I need." He stopped to cut at an apple for a moment. "Sometimes, I like to mix it up with Italian… and Chinese. All right, you can all stay, but don't bug me. You're on probation. Don't forget. I was this close to banishing you."
The room erupted into giggling fits.
"This is Toby Ziegler," Josh introduced. "And actually, he's in charge of crafting our message to the public."
"Doesn't seem very good at his job, then," Weiss mumbled, earning a laugh from Yang.
Toby looked up and asked "And today, that message is?"
"Don't bug me?" a kid asked.
"That's right."
Another student, a girl near the back, said "Nice beard."
"My choice, sister," Toby responded.
Ruby frowned. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"He's Jewish," the Librarian explained. "And certain aspects of Judaism prohibit shaving with a razor. 'Ye shall not round the corners of your heads, neither shalt thou mar the corners of thy beard' is the exact scripture, I believe. And, if I remember correctly, Judaism and Muslamics trace back together."
Toby continued, adding, "and by the way, there's nothing wrong with a religion whose laws say a man's got to wear a beard or cover his head or wear a collar. It's when violation of these laws become a crime against the State, and not your parents, that we're talking about lack of choice." He paused to turn to the whiteboard and read "'Islamic Extremists is to Islamic as KKK is to Christianity.' That's... that's about right. That's a good religious analogy. What's the political analogy? What's an analogy using governments?"
Billy frowned. "They don't have a government."
"They have the Taliban," one of his classmates corrected. "They have the government of Afghanistan."
"The Taliban is not the recognized government of Afghanistan. The Taliban took over the recognized government of Afghanistan," Toby explained as he took a bite from his apple. "And there's your political analogy."
"What do you mean?"
"When you think of Afghanistan, think of Poland. When you think of the Taliban, think of the Nazis. When you think of the citizens of Afghanistan, think of the Jews in concentration camps."
RWBY glanced at the Librarian who shook his head. "World War Two. Basically, Nazi Germany tried to take control of the continent. They were extremely racist and committed heinous war crimes. They almost committed an act of genocide against an entire race and religion."
"Gods," Weiss whispered.
"A friend of my dad's… was at one of the camps," Toby said. "He used to come over to the house, and he and my dad used to shoot some pinochle. He said he once saw a guy at the camp kneeling and praying. He said, 'What are you doing?' The guy said he was thanking God. And my dad's friend said, 'What could you possibly be thanking God for?' He said, 'I'm thanking God for not making me like them.'"
Toby sighed and looked down at the knife in his hand. "Bad people can't be recognized on sight. There's no point in trying."
"Actually, we already covered that," Josh smiled.
Toby took another bite from his apple. "It's worth covering twice, don't you agree?"
"I do."
Ruby raised her hand slowly, to which Toby nodded his head. "Yeah."
"Pinochle's a card game?"
Toby paused. His eye twitched. "Yeah, I've changed my mind," he grumbled. "Kill them all."
"Laker girls?" Josh reminded, earning a sigh from his friend.
"No. Alright."
"What was the first act of terrorism?" Blake asked.
Toby turned to Josh and repeated the question. However, Josh simply shook his head and said, "I could answer, but I think she's asking you, man."
Chuckling, Toby thought for a moment before saying "I know it's not new. I know in the eleventh century, and I'm gonna have trouble pronouncing this, in the eleventh century, secret followers of Al-Hassan Ibn-al-Sabbah, who were taught to believe in nothing and dare all, carried out these very swift and very treacherous murders of fellow Muslims. And they did it in the state of religious ecstasy.
"As a matter of fact, young men between twelve and twenty were given hashish, and uh, smuggled into a… I really don't know what they call it. They were smuggled into a kind of specially designed pleasure garden complete with concubines. They were told this was paradise, and that the Master's Angels would carry them back if they carried out murders of the Master's enemies."
A new voice spoke up, adding, "Ah, temptation. I have named thee, and thy name is woman."
The entire room turned to see another man in a suit now picking out a bag of chips from a pile off to the side.
"This is Sam Seaborn," Josh said. "Deputy Communications Director. Now, don't be frightened when I tell you that in this room, Sam is the knowledgeable terrorism expert. The good news is in this government, we have some extremely knowledgeable terrorism experts."
"I heard I was needed," Sam said after another round of laughter died down. "I came."
"He's cute," Yang smirked, nudging Weiss.
The heiress rolled her eyes. "He's a bit too old for me. And from another universe."
"Love finds a way," she responded, casting a glance at the Faunus next to her.
"We were talking about Al-, am I pronouncing this right? Al-Hassan Ibn-al-Sabbah?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah, from the eleventh century."
"Yeah," Toby agreed.
Sam slowly began to make his way up to the front of the room. "By the way, the Arabic name for their secret order has survived until today. Can anybody guess what it was? Their Arabic name." He paused, stopping at a table and pointing at Billy. "You know."
Billy, sheepishly, answered, "Assassins?"
"Assassins. That's right."
Josh jumped to his feet. "Yeah, we don't call on him," he explained, earning more laughter. The trio then talked amongst themselves for a moment.
"Why's he being so nice to them?" Yang frowned.
"Because he knows them," Blake explained. "Kind of. What he doesn't know is us. We're an unexpected element. Something new. And that scares him."
"Scares us all," the Librarian corrected.
Weiss then lifted her hand again and (avoiding Yang raising her eyebrows mockingly) asked Sam, "So you know a lot about terrorism?"
"I dabble," he responded.
"What are you struck by most?"
Sam sat down, facing the room, and swallowed a Cheeto. "It's one-hundred-percent failure rate."
"Really?" Weiss asked, surprised.
"Not only do terrorists always fail at what they're after, they pretty much always succeed in strengthening whatever it is they're against."
Like my father and the White Fang, she realized. Their attacks have just made him even more stubborn.
"What about the IRA?" a boy asked.
In a hushed tone, the Librarian quickly explained that "The IRA, Irish Republican Army, basically fought against Great Britain rule in Northern Ireland. A revolution."
"The Brits are still there," Sam explained. "The Protestants are still there. Basque extremists have been staging terrorist attacks in Spain for decades with no result. Left Wing Red Brigades from the sixties and seventies, from the Baader-Meinhof gang in Germany to the Weatherman in the United States have tried to take over capitalism. You tell me. How's capitalism doing?"
"What about non-violent protests?" Blake asked, thinking back to the early days of the White Fang.
"What about it?"
The Librarian quickly jumped in. "It worked for Gandhi."
Sam smiled. "Yeah, it did," he nodded, getting to his feet. "Who else did it work for?"
"The Civil Rights Movement," a boy offered.
"That's right."
A girl near the back frowned. "Yeah, but weren't we terrorists at the Boston Tea Party?"
"Sounds fancy," Ruby mumbled. "I bet there were cookies."
"Nobody got hurt at the Boston Tea Party," Sam scoffed. "The only people that got hurt were some fancy boys who didn't have anything to wash down their crumpets with." He reiterated this with an opening of a soda can. "We jumped out from behind bushes, while the British came down the road in their bright red jackets, but never has a war been so courteously declared. It was on parchment, with calligraphy, and 'Your highness, we beseech you on this day in Philadelphia to bite me, if you please.'"
He sat back down as the room giggled. However, the girl in front of him frowned and leaned forward.
"Can I go back to what you were saying at the beginning?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"About it being 100% ineffective."
"Yeah."
"They're still doing it anyway."
Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah."
"They're not frustrated by the failure?"
"No."
The girl chuckled slightly. "Well, what do you call a society that has to just live every day with the idea that the pizza place you're eating in can just blow up without any warning?"
Sam stared into the eyes of the girl in front of him and whispered one word.
"Israel."
A few minutes later, a fourth member of the White House staff joined the party. This time, however, it was a woman.
An unbelievably tall one at that too. Even Yang was staring up at her.
"Who's that?" she asked.
"That's the 'face' of this Presidency. Claudia Jean Cregg, C.J for short. She's the White House Press Secretary."
Weiss frowned. "So she's in charge of the reporters?"
The Librarian shook his head. "She handles the press corp. like a ranger wrangles cattle. She tells them all the information they need to know and works on making sure the president is 'seen' well."
C.J eagerly picked up her own bag of snacks. "What's going on here?"
"The crash locked a class of kids in the White House with me," Josh explained. "They're the Presidential Classroom. We've been trying to explain everything to them."
"You've been trying to explain everything to them?" C.J repeated. "They're kids!"
"We're smart kids," Yang half-shouted, earning a cheer from the other students.
Blake raised her hand towards the tall woman. "We were discussing Israel and terrorism. Is there anything you'd like to add?"
"Do you think we should be watching them so we know when everything will happen?" another student added. "Espionage?"
Josh groaned and paced around the room. "No, no, no, no. You walked into quicksand."
"You don't talk to C.J about the CIA," Toby added.
"You just don't do it," a pained Sam groaned.
Sitting down, Josh explained, "C.J. has a bizarre affection for the intelligence community that we just don't-"
"Bizarre?" she asked. "How about right?"
"Okay," Josh sighed.
C.J leaned against the mess' doors. "This song is called, 'The CIA, Our Maligned Little Brother'."
Sam, using a sip of his soda to hide it, mumbled, "oh, God."
"CIA?" Ruby asked
"Central Intelligence Agency," their guide explained. "Foreign intelligence. They collect and analyze information to help national security and preempt threats. They don't have the best image, but they do good. Most of the time…"
"We need spies," C.J explained. "Human spies. Spy satellites are great if you're trying to detect whether or not Kruschev's put missiles in Cuba. But if you want to overhear a conversation over Turkish coffee in Khyber Pass, you need a spy." She looked at each of the students in the eyes and added "You guys want to get a great job after college and serve your country? Study Arabic, Chinese, and Farsi."
"Maybe this'd be a good time for a chorus of 'Our Maligned Little Brother, Civil Liberties'," Toby mocked.
"Liberties, schmiberties."
Toby shook his head. "C.J. Cregg, ladies and gentlemen."
She whirled around to face him. "You know the way to do this without tapping some phones?"
"What about illegal searches?" Toby countered. "What about profiling? Do you know what Benjamin Franklin said?"
C.J paused and took a slice from an apple. "He said, 'Hey, look, I've invented the stove.'"
Leaning forward, Billy interrupted to say, "He said, 'They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.'"
The room went silent for a moment as the White House staffers nodded. C.J, on the other hand, stepped toward the boy. "What's your name?" she asked, her voice low.
"Well…" Billy swallowed and cast a glance at Josh, who looked up at C.J.
"I'm on it," he smiled.
C.J nodded, knowing that he would punish the boy for her. "Well," she said, "I don't think we're talking a little temporary safety and it's not like we need to search high and low for clear and present danger."
"Well, what would you say the point of fighting terrorism is?" Toby asked.
"It's to ensure freedom, Pokey. I don't need the brochure."
"I think you do 'cause during times of great crisis and threat, America has used Draconian measures before and I think maybe you've forgotten just how effective they've been. Can you name some?"
A girl near the front of the room practically jumped to her feet. "The blacklist."
"I want her to name them," Toby snapped.
C.J quickly responded "The Blacklist."
Before anyone could ask, the Librarian explained that "a blacklist is a list of people, groups, or places that should be avoided or distrusted. Or, in Raymond Reddington's case, it's a list of incredibly dangerous individuals in the criminal world."
Yang smirked. "Sounds like a most-wanted list of who to target whenever you can."
"Look," C.J sighed. "I talk civil liberties as seriously as anybody, okay? I've been to the dinners and we haven't even talked about free speech yet and somebody getting lynched by the patriotism police for voicing a minority opinion.
"That said, Tobus, we're going to have to do some stuff. We're going to have to tap some phones and we're going to have to partner with some people who are the lesser of evils. I'm sorry but terrorists don't have armies and navies. They don't have capitals. Some of these guys we're going to have to walk up to them and shoot them.
"Yeah, we can root terrorist nests but some of these guys aren't going to be taken by the one-hundred and fifth armored tank division. Some of these guys are going to be taken by a busboy with a silencer. So it's time to give the intelligence agencies the money and the manpower they need. We don't hear about their successes. Guess what? The Soviets never crossed the Elbe. The North Koreans stayed behind the thirty-eighth parallel. During the Millennium? Not one incident."
She continued to look out across the sea of students. "Do you think that's because the terrorists decided that'd be a good day to take off? Not much action that day? End of song."
C.J stepped back to grab another apple slice as team RWBY huddled around their table.
"Do you think home has stuff like this?" Ruby asked.
"Spies?" Blake frowned. "Why would they? It doesn't make sense, does it? Our enemy is the Grimm. All four kingdoms are at peace. Who would somebody spy on?"
"Politicians spy on their opponents," Weiss counted.
Yang nodded. "And we need spies to know about bandit grounds or where Grimm nests are."
"I'll give you bandits and politicians, but the Grimm are mainly kept an eye on with scouts," the Librarian explained. "Spies, the CIA, and other nationwide espionage agencies all operate under the same ideology. 'Verify but don't trust.' We're always waiting for the next knife to slash - the next grenade to be thrown - but until there comes a time where peace is achieved, it is very likely that spies will always be necessary."
He leaned down to the table. "But let me ask you this. Can you trust Atlas not to invade again? Can you trust Vacuo not to collapse? That's why we need spies. In this untrustworthy world, we need to ensure we are prepared for everything. It's a sad notion, but a necessity."
A few minutes later, the Question-and-Answer class continued. Toby had left, commenting something on a call he needed to make, while someone else slipped in to stand near the back. He was far younger than the others, black, but somehow gave a sense of belonging. Even though he wasn't much older than the students in the room, he stood out.
"Where do terrorists come from?"
Josh looked up at the girl who asked before turning to Sam and repeating the question. "Where do they come from?"
"Everywhere," Sam explained (while Blake muttered the same word). "Mostly they come from exactly where you'd expect: places of abject poverty and despair. Horribly impoverished places are an incubator for the worst kind of crime."
The man in the back nodded and opened his mouth. "Which is the same as it is right here."
"Who's that?" Yang asked.
"Charlie Young. He's the President's Personal Aide. His body man. Basically think of Glynda for Ozpin. He helps the President with whatever he needs, barring politics."
"Sounds easy."
The Librarian snorted. Yeah, right.
Charlie continued, saying, "same as it is here. I live in Southeast D.C. If you don't know the area, think Compton, or South Central LA, Detroit, the South Bronx. Dilapidated schools, drugs, guns, and what else?"
"Gangs," Blake whispered.
He nodded. "Gangs. Gangs give you a sense of belonging and usually an income. But mostly, they give you a sense of dignity. Men are men, and men'll seek pride. Everybody here's got a badge to wear." Charlie began to point around the room. "'I'm the Deputy Communications Director.' 'I made Presidential Classroom.' 'I know the answer. I'm going to Cornell.'
"You think bangers are walking around with their heads down, saying, 'Oh man, I didn't make anything out of my life. I'm in a gang'? No, man! They're walking around saying, 'Man, I'm in a gang. I'm with them."
Before anyone could respond, the crackle and chatter of radios grew louder and more men and women in black suits and earpieces began to flood into the room. Josh, Sam, and C.J quickly jumped to their feet.
"Oh, shit," the Librarian gasped, jumping up.
Team RWBY reached for their weapons. "What's happening?"
"Stand up," he smiled. "You're in for a real treat."
Confused, the four girls looked back out the door as another set of Secret Service agents marched in, flanking an older man and a woman. Like all the others in the room, the man wore a button-up suit with a tie while his companion sported a casual sweater and pants.
"Good evening, Mr. President," the staffers greeted as the room turned to watch. Even the Presidential Classroom's teacher was wide-eyed and gasping.
"Everyone, stand up," she hissed.
As the class did so (including the Remnants), the man, the President of the United States, gave a large smile as he entered the mess.
"Hello…"
"Good evening Mr. President," the Librarian and Marjorie exclaimed.
President Bartlett cast a glance at his staffers. "What the hell's going on?"
"Sir," C.J explained, "this is a group of high school students from Presidential Classroom."
"Ah," he nodded. Then, waving his hands downward, he motioned for the students to sit. "Please."
They all did so, though Ruby and Yang were confused by the up-and-down activity. "Why'd we even get up if he was just going to have us sit?" they grumbled.
"Respect," the Librarian explained, continuing to stand. "In this building when the President stands, nobody sits. At least, not without permission." He nodded to the President and the woman at his side. "That's President Josiah Bartlet. And with him is the First Lady, his wife, Doctor Abigail Bartlet. He may be the most powerful person in the room, but she's smarter and has a great deal of control over him."
President Bartlet began to walk around the room. "You women seem bright and lovely. The men? Disturbingly dense."
"Ignore him," Abigail smiled. "God knows the rest of us do."
Bartlet smiled as well before noticing one of the room's attendants. "Excuse me," he called, glaring at Charlie. "Weren't you coming down to get me some apples and peanut butter?"
"We're out of apples, sir," he explained, casting a glance at Sam who still had a slice in his hand.
The President followed the gaze and shook his head. "So," he said, turning to the students, "we're stuck here, huh?"
"Yes sir," a voice squeaked. Most of the other children were frozen at the sight in front of them.
"Well I live here," President Bartlet exclaimed.
The boy who commented laughed. "Yes, sir."
President Bartlet turned to Josh. "I'm going back to my office," he said, turning to leave. "Nice meeting you all."
However, as he moved to leave, Abigail remained still. "I'm gonna stay here a few minutes." Her husband nodded and moved to leave.
"Sir?" the Librarian called out, causing the leader to pause.
"Yeah?"
"Do you consider yourself a man of principle?"
He nodded slightly. "I try to be."
"Do you consider that martyrdom to be a noble act?" the Librarian asked. "We were talking about Israel and Extremism…" And it would ease my conscience.
The smile on his lips seemed to fade as the President stepped forward. "A martyr would rather suffer death at the hands of an oppressor than renounce his beliefs. Killing yourself and innocent people to make a point is sick, twisted, brutal, dumb-ass murder."
The room became even more still and silent than before.
"And let me leave you with this thought before I go searching for the apples that were rightfully mine." President Bartlet put his hands in his pocket and straightened his back. "We don't need martyrs right now. We need heroes. A hero would die for his country but he'd much rather live for it…" He smiled and turned away. "It was good meeting you all."
"Thank you, Mr. President," C.J exclaimed as he left.
Josh as well said "Thank you, sir." As they watched him leave, the security team began to leave as well. Charlie and Sam then followed. Then, after giving a quick rendition of the group's conversation to the First Lady, C.J left.
"Ma'am?" Ruby asked, lifting up her hand.
"Yes?"
"How did all this start?"
Abigail - Abbey - raised an eyebrow. "How did what all start?"
"Well…" swallowing slightly, Ruby looked around the room and pointed at the security guards around them. "This?"
Leaning forward slightly, she gave the answer "Sarah." Then when she noticed the confusion on everyone's faces, she continued. "God said to Abraham, 'Look toward the heaven and number the stars and so shall your descendants be.' But Abraham's wife, Sarah, wasn't getting any younger and God wasn't coming through on His promise…"
A smile tugged on the woman's lips as she added, "I was very young when I had my kids. I was very, very, very, very young. I was barely even born yet when I had my oldest daughter, Elizabeth."
The classroom laughed before letting Doctor Bartlet resume her story.
"Anyway, Sarah was getting older, and she was getting nervous because she didn't have any children. So she sent Abraham to the bed of her maid, Hagar. And Abraham and Hagar had Ishmael. And not long after they did, God kept His promise to Sarah, as He'd always intended to, and Abraham and Sarah had Isaac. And Sarah said to Abraham, 'Cast out this slave woman with her son, for the son of the slave woman will not be heir with my son Isaac.'"
She paused, letting that comment sink in. "And so it began: the Jews, the sons of Isaac. The Arabs, the sons of Ishmael. But what most people find important to remember is that, in the end… the two sons came together to bury their father."
Even team RWBY, with no concept of this world's God or the knowledge of either religion, felt moved by the sad tale. The room once again fell silent and a few students felt wetness in their eyes.
Josh, trying to lighten the room, added "I think most people also find it important to remember that the whole thing took place about seventy-three million years ago."
"Yeah," the First Lady agreed.
Before anyone else could ask something or make a comment, Donna, who had left a few minutes earlier, returned. "Excuse me, ma'am. We're clear."
Abbey nodded. "Well, that's that then." She smiled at the children in the room. "It was good talking with you guys. Hang in there." She then left, taking with her the last of the Secret Service agents and more than a few heartfelt thank-you's.
Clapping his hands, Josh moved back to the front of the room with Donna at his side. "Well, all right. That's it then."
Before he could get up, however, Yang raised her hand.
"Do you think we should kill them?"
Josh, for a moment, froze. "You don't have the choices in a war that you do in a jury room. But I-I-I wish… wish we didn't have to. I think death is too simple."
Yang frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I'd put 'em in a small cell, and make them watch home movies of the birthdays and baptisms and weddings of every single person they killed," he explained. "Over and over, every day, for the rest of their lives. And then they'd get punched in the mouth every night at bedtime. By a different person, every night. There'd be a long list of volunteers, but that's alright. We'll wait."
He then smiled and nodded to each of the children. "But listen, don't worry about all this right now. We got you covered. Worry about school. Worry about what you're gonna tell your parents when you break curfew. You're gonna meet guys, you're gonna meet girls. Not so much you, Fred." The smiles around the room began to open with laughter. "Learn things. Be good to each other. Read the newspapers, go the movies, go to a party. Read a book. In the meantime, remember pluralism. You want to get these people? I mean, you really want to reach in and kill them where they live? Keep accepting more than one idea. Makes 'em absolutely crazy."
With one final smile, Josh said "Go." The students began to grab their bags, standing up, and walking out the door.
"See you later," Josh said as each of them thanked him on the way out. They shook his hand and offered fist bumps.
"Thank you," Marjorie said as she did so.
"Thank you," he countered. "Thanks a lot. It was fun." As she ran to the front of the group, the last few denizens began to trickle through the doors. "Don't steal anything on the way out."
However, as the last of the Presidential Classroom's attendants left, Josh grabbed his arm.
"Billy," he nodded, pulling him to the side." "Listen…"
The boy looked up at the staffer with a bright look in his eyes.
Josh shook his head. "Nothing. Just… keep doing what you're doing."
"Okay," Billy smiled, reaching out his hand.
Josh took it. "Okay. See you."
As the boy turned to leave, he froze, then rushed back into the classroom and walked up to team RWBY.
"Listen, I just wanted to say I'm sorry," he explained. "I wasn't myself. I was scared. And… I don't know, that isn't me. I'm sorry if I was rude. I know we just met and you probably have nothing else to judge me on, but I did want you to know that I realize my mistake."
He sighed. "I'm sorry." Billy then began to run out of the room.
"Hey, Fred!" Yang yelled. When he turned around, flinching at the nickname, Yang gave him a bright smile. "Be better."
"I will."
And then he too was gone.
The only people that now remained were the Librarian, team RWBY, Josh, and Donna. Who, painfully, elbowed her boss.
"Come on," she whispered. "If the kid can apologize, so can you."
Josh winced but rubbed the back of his head. "Fine." He stepped over to the Librarian and held out his hand. "Listen, man…"
"Don't worry about it."
The staffer's eyebrows shot up. "What?"
"I said don't worry about it." The Librarian grabbed Josh's hand and shook it. "I realize what it's like to worry about everyone. Especially those whom we care more than we realize. Like she said-" he cast a glance at Yang "-just be better."
Josh shook the Librarian's hand. "Will do."
"But…" a dark twinkle glimmered in the Librarian's eyes. "I would like to ask one thing."
A gulp escaped Josh's throat. "What?"
A few minutes later, the Librarian, Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang all had their pockets full of United State's sealed M&M's. When nobody was looking, they turned back to the storage closet they arrived in and opened the T.A.R.D.I.S doors.
"So… what did you think?"
Ruby, who had already opened one of her boxes, gulped down a few dozen of the chocolate treats. "It was weird. Like we've heard about the US from your comments and the travels of the Doctor, but I was surprised to see how different it was. It wasn't some super-mighty country. It has its problems, just like us."
"And sadly it has similar problems as well," Weiss sighed. "They're fighting off attackers who want to destroy that which they love. Even though the reasons differ, they still are using the same tactics." She glanced over at Blake. "And it was… comforting to hear that not everyone shares those kinds of views."
"Very few do. In fact, it's just that the few who do are manipulating the large groups that don't really care. They prey on those they can turn into their own." Blake clutched her arms. "And while it was surprising to get proof, I did enjoy being told that it doesn't work. That acting out for extremities' sake will just lead to nowhere. And that if your views call for you to change the world, it is best to do so from a podium than from behind a rifle."
Looking down at her bracelets, her weapons - her life - Yang felt a strange sense of being lost. But, she didn't want to leave. She wanted to find out more. Curious about a new way of dealing with things. "Violence doesn't lead to violence," she whispered. "But it also does. There's a line somewhere between what is wrong, what is allowed, and what is right. And while fighting isn't necessarily a bad thing, it is important to know why."
Yang looked up at her team. "You guys are my reason."
Instantly, Ruby wrapped her arms around her sister. Then Blake. And even Weiss.
The Librarian watched in silence, glad to see that his hope was working. Though President Bartlet's words echoed in his mind.
'Killing yourself and innocent people to make a point is sick, twisted, brutal, dumb-ass murder.'
I won't kill innocents, he thought. But if my life is the price to save those I care about… Then I'll make that sacrifice any day. Even if that makes me an idiot.
The five of them then moved to the T.A.R.D.I.S' console. As they tipped in, they noticed the crumbled body of Qrow Branwen on the ground.
"Uncle Qrow!" Ruby gasped, picking him up. "Are you okay?"
Weiss frowned and noticed his jacket was sparkling. "Better question… is that glitter?"
Slowly, Qrow's eyes began to open and his mouth began to twitch. "I used to wonder what friendship could be… until you all shared its magic with me…"
"What did he say?" Blake asked. However, before she could lean down and listen, the Librarian began to fall over. Laughing.
"That idiot!" he said between chuckles. "I can't-! Oh, my, God! I didn't think… hahaha!"
"What?" Yang asked. "What happened?"
"Your uncle locked himself in the nursery!" The Librarian had to lean against the console as he tried to breathe. "I had to babysit some kids once and had a theatre designed to play stuff like Thomas the Tank Engine, Bob the Builder, Fireman Sam, or My Little Pony."
At those last three words, Qrow suddenly lept to his feet and grabbed the Librarian by his jacket. "It was horrible! The door was locked! I watched colorful horses singing for HOURS! So many songs… so many stupid little friendship quests… It was like visual LSD!"
The Libraran'a laughter slowed. "That's what you get for snooping around my ship without permission. And the door was locked because they were children safe. Why didn't you just ask ELI to unlock the door?"
"I DID!"
"Technically," ELI's voice rang, "he never asked me to open it. He just kept screaming at the door to open. It was quite enjoyable."
The console room began to laugh as an audio recording of Qrow sobbing, yelling, and even cursing at the door began to play.
"Can't we just go back to our regularly scheduled program?" the huntsman asked.
"Fine," the Librarian smiled. "Let's get the T.A.R.D.I.S somewhere safe then we can get started. You five head to Theatre-7. I'll Fold us."
The group began to leave as he started fiddling with levers and dials. But I do still wonder, he thought, why did we end up here? I never did ask what the date was.
In the confines of a small janitorial closet, the T.A.R.D.I.S began to disappear. Paper towels, rags, and even a few bottles of liquid began to fly around the room as the blue box vanished into nothingness.
As it disappeared entirely, the items began to settle. It was only then, with its view now unencumbered, that a calendar was visible against the back wall.
'September,' it read. And ten little X's marked from the first to the tenth.
The day was September 11th. 2001. And the United States, as well as the world, would never be the same.
Huge, huge thanks to my first-ever supporter!
Helpful supporter - Dalek2150
So, if you cannot tell, I am American. Which is ironic, all things considered. I'm sorry if I'm not representing British views or traveling to locations in the UK as much as I am with America (but don't worry, that'll change most likely since I'll be moving to Great Britain in a few weeks). But cut me some slack, please. This is what I know.
Well, not specifically this. The West Wing was a FANTASTIC show that ran from about 1999 to 2006. And, before its third season aired, they put out this special. I love this show. And if you want a great view or understanding of how the American government operates, I highly recommend it. It's on HBO Max. But, this episode specifically, doesn't focus directly on America. Yes, the event that caused this story to be conceived formed from a terrorist attack on American soil, but, if you read what Josh, Toby, and Sam have said, they mainly bring up attacks on freedom itself.
Heck, the one student brings up the IRA before the American Revolution.
Honestly, I could go on and on about this show (and this episode). But, to be honest, that's not what this chapter is supposed to represent. Like the episode I'm basing this off, this is a sort of semi-canon special. It's not necessary but does allow for you to enjoy more about the Librarian and team RWBY.
If you are American, I know you understand what spawned this special. If you are not, then pardon my push of this story. But I have a connection to the events that happened 21 years ago in New York.
And, like Aaron Sorkin, I wanted to put that on paper. Or on screen.
I did add a new element, though. This episode was supposed to be a warning not to fear Islamics after the events of 9-11, but to know who was actually responsible. With the addition of the travelers, and Billy (or Fred), I wanted to showcase how random that fear can be.
And how important is it to realize how that fear doesn't do any good and can target those who do not deserve it.
Please, feel free to follow and comment on predictions, thoughts, etc. I am always looking for new ways to improve my craft. Tell your friends!
Also, if you have the money, please think about supporting me.
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