A/N: Before reading this chapter, I am warning you that this chapter contains strong elements of drama. It involves flashbacks of grievance, depression, and a suicide attempt. If these triggers alarm you, please don't read. As a reminder, this author doesn't support and/or endorse the material presented in this story. Stay tuned for the next chapter for it will be much lighter, wholesome, and warm-hearted. Enjoy! God bless!

Joey was lying on her father's bed coloring in her coloring book. It was a gift giving by Ms. Belladonna for her good behavior. The happy-go-lucky child was Student of the Week and she picked the coloring book from her treasure chest. Taking a pinky promise from her loving teacher, she promised to color within the lines. If she returned it in good condition, then she can receive a reward.

"Honey, be careful to not stain your dress. I just got it from the cleaners." It was a pink dress from the Anne Grace collection. Weiss picked it out for her on third birthday. Once again, Jaune was grateful to the former snow queen to sponsor her party. It was a birthday to remember as she held it at her mansion. She invited Weiss and her daughter's classmates, hired a symphony to perform any musical classics, and hired puppeteers to do scenes from Moana, her favorite movie at the time. Jaune almost didn't make it to his own daughter's birthday party.

There was an incident.

Jaune was standing in front of the mirror. He was careful to watch his daughter while standing to take care of his shirt. He was buttoning a white long-sleeve shirt. It was one of his work clothes. His khaki pants were sitting on the foot of his bed.

Although it was a carnival, he couldn't decide on the attire. He wasn't sure if they were taking a stroll with Blake or they could going to the rodeo show with her? Finding that middle ground was hard, especially when he wasn't used to dressing himself.

Back when Pyrrha was alive, she was the woman in charge of coordination.

"Sweetie, the days of sagging pants and plain, graphic t-shirts are dead. You are getting too old for this type of wear."

"What's wrong with my outfits? Does it matter?"

"It isn't about the absence of taste, but the opposite of taste. You are going to be in the corporate world soon. As much as I love you, no boss will hire you like this."

"You are sounding more and more like a Mom."

"Well, I am going to be a Mom and this Mom loves you. Of course, I am your wife. But honey, understand that at some point, you have to grow up."

"I am an adult, damn it!"

"A grumpy one right now, dear. When you become big in the work world, you will soon understand."

"Who says I will get this job? Old Man Schnee is too much of a smuldering old bat to even care."

"And with that tongue of yours, you will never get it. With this outfit, you never will. Please, sweetie. Have I ever let you down?"

Trust me, sweetheart. When your mate is working for your good, it's unconditional. Never failing.

He rubbed under his nose to cover his temptation to grunt. He promised to never shed tears in front of his daughter. Carefree as she hummed a song from the Despicable Me soundtrack, the miniature version of himself began to sparkle every day. Her eyes were a deep blue, deep as the ocean. Her hair was quite golden, even as her hair showing patterns of red. He often wondered if his little Kickapoo would become the likeness of her mother or a candid version of both. If he could only imagine when that day would come if Joey began looking like his wife? A miniature of a mother she had never met, never spoken even a word.

'Don't ever let Joey forget about me.'

'You know that will never happen.'

'Never leave her out of your sight, Jaune. Always be there for Joey. She needs you more than anything.'

'I promise you, Pyrrha. I won't ever abandon her.'

Joey's groaning interrupted his thoughts. He looked at the mirror as his little Kickapoo began to shed tears. "Ms. Belladonna's going to hate me." Putting aside his personal feelings, Jaune walked to the bed. He got on his knees as he extended his hand to his daughter. "What's the matter, sweetness?"

Sniffling, Joey answered. "I had promised Ms. Belladonna that if I have drawn within the lines, then I will get a reward." She wiped the tears with her sleeve of her shirt. "I wasn't paying attention and I made a mark outside of the line." The wailing grew. "I don't want Ms. Belladonna to hate me."

Jaune pulled the coloring book from Joey. It was a drawing from an unfamiliar cartoon. It was a baby deer. Jaune observed to see that Joey drew a bit out of the lines. Joey continued to wipe the tears. Jaune produced a slight smile. "Princess, we all make mistakes." He got up and sat on the bed. He grabbed his daughter to place on his lap. He reached for his handkerchief and wiped her tears. He then covered her nose. "Blow for me." Joey did as she was told. He then wiped a few sniffles before putting the handkerchief on the nightstand, reminding himself to wash it. "What have I told you about perfection."

She hicked a little, clinging to his collar.

He flicked her nose, which cited a giggle. "What did Daddy Sweetness told you about perfection?"

Joey's puffied cheeks and eyes looked to her father. "If all porkchops were perfect…"

Jaune squeezed her cheeks. "...there wouldn't be hot dogs." Jaune scooped her up and put her in the air. He held her like an airplane and swerved her through the room. Her giggling warmed his hair and made him forget about the pain of his departed wife. Sometimes, he reminded himself that this world of his is forever. It was hard. Hard to move on. What kind of man could he be if he forget his wife? And that wasn't the kind of man he wanted to be.

Not yet. Not yet.

About three airplane rides and three outfits later, Jaune decided to wear a blue polo shirt and wrinkled-free blue jeans with cowboy boots. A bit casual for his new taste, but at least his shirt was tucked in. In his defense, there were plenty of twenty-five year old's who were still finding themselves.

Among those twenty-somethings, were there anyone who were single fathers longing for their deceased wives?

Jaune tried shaking the thoughts from his head. He shifted his eyes toward Joey. She was jumping up and down in her new outfit. He decided let her put on what she wanted. He didn't know where a ballerina tutu with a jean jacket along with a green boa and sunglasses would suffice. Yet again, let the kid be four years old. Life was too short to worry about what people thought, he pondered in his mind.

"Are you ready to see Ms. Belladonna," asked Jaune tenderly to his daughter.

"Huh, huh," she said while producing a grin onto her face. "This is so exciting. We are having a date with Ms. Belladonna."

Jaune tilted his head. "And who says that this is a date, little lady?"

Joey crossed her arms, giving him a bit of a glare. Too much of her mother in her, he concluded. "Europa Vasilias said when a girl and a guy go out together, then it is a date."

"You spend a lot time with Europa, don't you?" He asked with a smile. "And where do you come in, eh?"

"I am the non-negotiable package in this deal." She nodded affirmatively and pointed at her father. "You make me a bundle deal. And I won't stand for anybody that won't take me in without you." She tapped her feet. "It's me and you with her or nobody." She began to blush.

"Such strong and mighty words," he said in a playful tone. "Did Europa teach you that?"

She smiled as she shook her head in disagreement. "No."

"No? Where did you learn it from? Television?"

"No," she said in a sing-song.

"Your storybooks?" He was fondling for his keys as he was preparing to departure. He nudged her to go in front of her as they were exiting the house to the garage. He chirped the car alarm as she began to climb into her car seat.

As he tightly secured the seat, he asked once more. "Where do you get this from, dear?"

She shifted her eyes away. "Promise that you won't get mad."

Jaune raised his eyebrow. "Mad? What for?"

She took a sigh as she tugged her jean jacket. "Just promise me that you won't get mad."

Jaune's curiosity was getting the best of him. At first, the advice given to her, he expected it from classmates, television, people she listened on their encounters. However, seeing the seriousness on her face, he could tell that this was important.

Being a good father, he extended his pinky ring. "Pinky promise." Joey wrapped her tiny pinker delicately around her fathers. Both lifted as they chanted the pinky swear.

"Pinky, pinky bow-bell,
Whoever tells a lie
Will sink down to the bad place
And never rise up again."

"Finger cut-off, ten thousand fist-punchings, whoever lies has to swallow thousand needles," said Joey as she nodded. Joey has learned well, Jaune thought. It reminded him to spend more time monitoring her websites. Disney and Nickelodeon aren't the only sites she was browsing. "So, where did you learn that advice?"

"Mommy read it to me."

A year ago….

"Wake Me Up When September Ends" filled the quiet room. Shades of grey filled the spots that weren't covered by the curtains. A lone cigarette lingered from the ashtray. It burned, leaving a trail of white to the ceiling. It stood alone, burning, lurking for an owner to consume its smoke. However, it stood alone, allowing itself to slowly burn. From the other side of the ashtray faced Jaune Arc. He had a cup of coffee in his hand. The same cup that he held for the last thirty minutes. The coffee by now was lukewarm. He could relate to the burning ash, the temperature of the coffee, he, too, wanted to fade away. He, too, was becoming cold. He stared into the coffee cup, seeing himself in the reflection. It was murky, dark like the swamp he wouldn't mind drowning himself into at this very moment in time.

He looked over to the dresser where Weiss had recently dropped off lunch. It was gently placed beside the tray that contained last night's dinner. He wasn't hungry. His stomach has already been filled with regret, shame, anger, and among other things. An ulcer, tearing and eating away his flesh, filling the void of whatever hunger he desired. For his happy days were coming to a close. Whatever glimpse of sunshine he wanted wasn't there. Even the light bulb to his ceiling blew out today. The light bulb from his lamp was from yesterday.

He wanted darkness. The hole in the wall where he threw the lamp was confirmation of his decision. Rage was on his mind.

He heard a knock on the door.

He didn't call anything. His voice was absent. Even if he wanted to speak, it will be filled with frustration or tears. His dried eyes weren't in the move of releasing tears from his tired tears ducts. His nose was inflamed that when he moved his lips, it hurt.

Jaune wanted nothing more than to disappear from the face of the Earth. He stared at the window, watching the days go by. Watching others continue on with their life. As for him, the wedding ring of his deceased wife and his dented wedding beside each other became proof that his soul has already left the vessel. For the Jaune that was there died the same day when he watched the love of his life take her final breaths, disappearing right before his very eyes.

The knocking on the door continued.

He didn't want to call anything again. By that time, Jaune had the song played on repeat. On his desk, he had already written enough things to make peace with anybody who wouldn't understand. Weiss, Mr. Schnee, his mother, his sisters, other friends, and most overall, Joey. Tears wept as there was a progeny that was going to be left behind. He has written to Weiss extensively on being her caretaker. Be there, he had written to her. For he could no longer carry the burden. He felt lost without his wife.

And his wife he planned to return.

He had enough of smoking cigarettes. He had enough tears. He had enough of everything.

Now, he wanted to be nothing more than a past tense. To be a part of the departed of his former self.

His choice of clothes was neatly lined on the bed. It was a black tuxedo with the silver and black bow tie. It was a gift from Neptune when they celebrated Jaune's notification of his employment at the Schnee Dust Company. They had a dinner. He, Neptune, and Weiss went to the Faunus-style restaurant to celebrate. Wine after wine filled their glasses. Wine after wine filled their stomachs. Precious moments that he shared with dear friends.

Moments he would never have again.

The knocking on the door continued.

No more tears, he told himself. It was the final job that he was going to do right. No longer would he speak. He hoped that his next plan of action would bring solace. If not for his family, at least to those that were no longer in pain.

He took deep breaths. He thought he was ready. He stood up, the first in nearly an hour. He walked to the ashtray where he took another smoke. It filled his lungs, wakening his body. He coughed but took another. In his mind, he was in charge of his body and was certain about what he was going to do with it.

He cracked his neck before cracking his knuckles. He walked to the closet where he opened up a case that belonged to his father. Its' intent of the instrument was used to protect them from intruders. According to his hands, he, himself, was the intruder; and that very instrument was going to solve his dilemma.

His father called it a Poor Man's Machete because he didn't have the skills to defend himself. Despite growing up in an era in which your hands were all the protection he needed, he didn't suffice. He didn't play by the rules. He silently smiled, shaking his head of his father's poor choices.

He had loaded earlier in the morning. He did it when he had told his Weiss that he was going to do an errand. He told Weiss to watch Joey while he was out. He dropped her off at her place. He gave her a kiss to the forehead. It had to be a quick peck. He didn't want to give her subtle hints that this was going to be his last kiss to his daughter.

Looking back, he wondered why he didn't do it when he had the chance. It mattered not for his best friend, his wife, didn't have a choice of her untimely demise.

He heard the door once more. This time it was getting heavier. Time was upon him. He knew he didn't have much longer. The Poor Man's Machete was heavy, but it felt powerful. Powerful than the blades that severed his wrist. Much powerful than any medicine he consumed. If he was going to do it, then he was going to do it right.

Stomach was growling, the hunger was returning. He was ready, yearning for the return of being with his dear Pyrrha. Yearning for life if reincarnation was real.

He cocked it, aiming it where he wanted it to count. It was the very place where he had spilled himself to Weiss, his family, and his best friend. The twenty-four years he had invested with them. The love, the mishaps, the adventures, everything. He closed his eyes, picturing himself with them.

He pointed at his heart.

The door was rammed in. The splintering of wood threw off Jaune as he dropped his weapon. Neptune came in and grabbed Jaune's arm, pulling him backward and away from the weapon. The duo wrestled on the bed, but Neptune took hold.

"Weiss, call an ambulance," shouted Neptune.

"Let me die," barked Jaune.

"I won't let you, man. You got too much to live for," said Neptune.

"Let me die, man. Let me fucking die," cried Jaune. He was a raging bull, gnashing and biting Neptune's hand. Neptune didn't budge. He took the pain, the bite marks and the scratch marks. He wasn't going to let him harm himself.

"Let me die," cried Jaune. Tears were weeping. He wailed loudly.

"They are on their way," said Weiss as she entered through the splintered door. She retrieved the weapon and placed it on her purse. She, then, came to Jaune's aid.

"Let me die," he said to Weiss as he sobbed.

"I won't let you," she exclaimed loudly. "I won't let you die!" Tears were falling from her snow white eyes. "You have too much to live for. Me, Neptune, your family, your daughter!"

"She doesn't deserve a father like me," he cried to her.

"She needs you, Jaune. We need you," she said as she wrapped herself around him. Neptune wouldn't let go. He wanted to be sure things were to be okay until the police and ambulance came.

The present….

"Mommy read it to you," asked Jaune.

"Yes, sir. You are at mad at me?"

Jaune gave her present smile. "No, sweetheart. I am not mad. I can't ever be mad at you." He kissed her on her forehead. "Now, let's go to the fair to see Blak...I mean Ms. Belladonna."

"Okay," she said gleefully.

Jaune texted Blake to let her know that they were on their way. Jaune reached into his pocket to retrieve his pills. He swallowed two followed by a bottle of water he kept in his car. "I will get through this," he said to himself. "I WILL get through this." He turned around as Joey was kicking her legs. I have too much to live for. I won't ever do a selfish thing again. That's my word, Pyrrha. I won't ever leave her alone. I won't ever abandon her again.

To be continued…

Strong, dramatic chapter. I promise you in the next chapter that it is going to be sweet and wholesome. Stay tuned in the future.