Hey, guys! GOTA, here with another installment of "Under The Knight's Shade." I know it has been nearly a year since our last chapter. We were trying to figure out how the next chapter will play out. We want this series to as wholesome and loving as possible. In this chapter, this will serve as a flashback chapter between Jaune and Pyrrha. The loving couple is at the hospital where Pyrrha questions Jaune about destiny and fate. What will happen? Read and find out! Enjoy!

Have you ever once think we were put on this planet to be served as an instrument for others? Do you think we were placed for another person to find solace, to find happiness, to find peace? Do you ever think we were here to serve our purpose, to ensure that that person can be led to the right bridge? The right path? I often think like that, sweetheart. Jaune, I often believe that once we serve our purpose, our destiny, then we shall return to the dust where we remain. Of course, I am not saying that could possibly be me, but do you think about it, Jaune? Do you ever think about what could be our destiny to this place?

Jaune and Pyrrha were sitting outside at the foot of the wishing well at Vale General Hospital. Tired of eating the hospital's lackluster cafeteria food, it was her decision to take her to the nearby Chinese joint to eat some real food. She wanted sustenance. She wanted something artery-clogging, heartburning, and gas spewing from her rear end. Being on a restricted diet was getting to her and she felt she would die faster if she were to eat any more of their bland slop.

Being her personal chauffeur, the blond straddled onto her wheelchair as they crossed the street to the Chinese restaurant. They ordered their usual General Tso chicken. Always with an extra side of fried rice and always with an extra dim sum. Jaune was certain to grab the Cookie's Fortune before they left to partake on their normally Friday ritual.

'Oum, it feels good to be bad for a change.' Pyrrha ripped off the packet of her duck sauce. She quickly applied it to her rice. Jaune was assisting her with the food. It often brought difficulty as her hands would often spasm.

She slapped her hand. 'Boy, please! I might be sick but I ain't old!'

Using humor, he said, 'Your words, not mine. Trying to help a damsel in distress.'

She tilted her head, raising her eyebrow. 'If only you were this nice when we were at home. All that 'my hands were full' excuse so you can eat my extra dim sum.' She winked at him. 'You weren't slick!'

'Hey,' he retorted. 'You know you weren't going to finish that food. It would sit in the fridge until two or three days later.'

She took her chopsticks to insert in this dish. 'Yeah, so? My food, my choice.'

'It's a waste!'

'If I feed it to the birds or use it for compost, then it is a contribution.'

'But, but…'

She stuck out her tongue, giving the thoughtless blond another wink. 'You'd lost, Jauney!' She used her finger to lower her eyelids. 'I win!'

'You know what...you know what...you've won this round. This time.' Typical Pyrrha. She always got the last word. One of the hundreds of reasons why he fell in love with the Spartan.

She softly giggled. 'Don't mention it!'

She took Jaune's hand as she decided to proceed in blessing the meal. She closed her eyes as she commenced the prayer. Jaune held her delicate, yet shaking hands. The spasms were occurring more often than usual. The frailty of her hands, according to doctors, could be easily compared to elderly patients or those with Parkinson's. Jaune tried keeping his composure. His eyes were focusing on her wedding wing. A yellow band with green jewels at the center with the words, 'I love you in a place where there is no space and time,' etched in cursive writing under it. Jaune purchased the ring after putting his favorite guitar on loan. He didn't have the heart to ask his parents or his sisters for money. During college, the teen worked odd jobs to save money, adamant that he was going to marry his beloved Pyrrha.

Even before deciding to work for Jacques Schnee, he used to work at the country club where the Schnee family contributed and partially owned. Jaune served as his caddy from time to time. Through the glorious tips from the white-haired businessman, Jaune acquired what he needed to afford the wedding ring.

He sucked in the air. Pyrrha noticed. He said it was allergies. Pyrrha slowly drifted her fingertips onto his soft, blushed face. She was cool to the touch. He soaked into the cusp of his beloved. She welcomed his tears, using her hands as a reservoir.

Seeing her engagement ring sliding up and down her fingers was now a cross he would have to bear.

'You'd promised me that he wouldn't hold back, baby,' she said gently. She grabbed her handkerchief to wipe his tears. She instructed him to blow into it, in which he did. 'There, all better!' She put her fingers together. 'Spread the frown upside down! Smiles! All smiles, Jauney! Please show me that smile.'

He was following suit. 'I'm smiling.'

'No, you're not. Are you at that place?'

'I am.'

'No, you're not.'

'I said, I am,' he retorted as he was naturally grinning.

'See, there is that gorgeous smile I fell in love with.'

'And the annoying smile I grew to love and somewhat detest.'

'And you love me for it, Jauney!'

'And I love you as well, Pyrrha.'

It felt good to laugh, Jaune thought to himself. He watched as a few interns were walking to the intensive care unit. To think that was where Pyrrha would be returning after visiting hours were to conclude. Jaune paused, using his hands to tilt her cap on her head.

'Didn't feel like wearing your wig today?'

'Calling me ugly, ugly?'

'If I am ugly, why did you marry me?'

'Probably because of my low standards.' She blew into his face. 'And somebody needed to look after you.'

'Ha, ha, ha,' he playfully said to Pyrrha.

Pyrrha lifted her head to soak in the sun's rays. It felt good for a change to be outside. Being confided in the finite space was getting to her. She may not be able to walk. She may no longer withstand being exposed to the outside world than usual. She may no longer get restful sleep. Nevertheless, even in the plight of her duress, she just wanted to feel like her old self again.

Amazing how even a small task of being outside could be quite strenuous. Grabbing her wheelchair, she backed away from the fountain. Jaune was going to assist, but she gave him a strong glare, notioning to let her be. She used her strength to get out of the wheelchair. She strained her body as she tried getting onto the steps of the wishing fountain. Despite having assurance, Jaune reached over to her. She pushed him away.

'I can do this, Jaune!'

'But, baby….'

'Jaune, please!' The desperate plea in her voice, the strain of aggravation. She made grunts as she positioned herself away from the wheelchair. With much of her upper body strength, she managed to get from the chair and onto the steps.

Upon doing so, she briskly ingested the air. Jaune could see it in her tired eyes. To think that something simple as that could be a difficult task.

She patted the spot beside her.

"Sit with me, baby!"

There wasn't a decision for a debate. Like a dog to his owner, he sat beside his Pyrrha.

Pyrrha positioned her body next to his, wanting to feel his warmth. Jaune took off his jacket and place it around her. She inhaled once more.

It was the first in a while for them to be side by side without any obstacles. 'I will have to apologize to my Gram-Gram for all of the times I would take away her wheelchair to play in it.' She tried not to laugh but this time, she couldn't help herself. She managed to contain as much as she could until she felt the sharpness of pain in her body. Amazing how such a cure for healing, laughing, was causing her so much pain.

Jaune nodded in agreement. 'We have all been there, Pyrrha. Heck, I remember the time when you and our daughter was born when you needed a wheelchair.'

She pursed her lip. 'The same father who was doing donuts in the neonatal ward.' She clicked her tongue. 'And you call me childish?'

He lightly kicked her shin. She feigned pain. 'Ow! Mean old dummy, poo-poo head.'

She made a light pinch to his arm. He feigned pain. 'I'm telling on you.' He turned to find others for attention. 'Help, I am being attacked by this angry madwoman.'

'Boy, stop.'

'Okay, okay.'

Jaune took her hand. Even with the redness from IV marks and shots, he rubbed it affectionately, kissing every fingertip with his tender lips. He took short breaths. He felt the coolness on her fingertips. He tried his best not to show any emotion. Why Pyrrha? Why this precious woman of Oum? What has she done to be given this death sentence?

'Baby, you are squeezing my fingers too hard,' said Pyrrha.

'Sorry, baby,' said Jaune apologetically when releasing them.

'I didn't say let go, just take it easy.'

He didn't answer, nodding as he intertwined with her fingers once more.

'Do you think we are used as an instrument for others?'

Jaune paused for a moment, allowing that question to soak within his thoughts. 'An instrument?'

'Yeah! Orchestrated and designed for others to help them on their journey.' Pyrrha adjusted herself as she felt pressure on her lower back. Jaune knew that the medication was kicking it and it wouldn't be long before returning back to her hospital room. 'I feel as though everyone on this planet, in this universe, has a destiny. I felt that we all make our choices and it could lead us to our destination. Rather good or bad. Even if we do right or wrong, we have impacted somebody.'

Jaune remained quiet. He never pondered on that thought of people being used to help other people. He had always felt that it was inherently obvious to do certain deeds. Then yet again, remembering the days of Cardin Winchester, that made him recant his previous thought.

'The things we do. The things we go through. Why is that family poor? Why did that family suffer a loss? Why can we go do the fun things like a Schnee or someone like that? Is it our attitude? Our demeanor?' Her doe-eyes were onto his. 'Our way of thinking?'

He kissed her hand before rubbing it. He watched as another influx of doctors crossing the street to head into the building. Probably those coming from lunch or heading to work. He then turned his eyes back to her.

'What would have happened if Beacon rejected me,' said Pyrrha. 'What if I didn't want to become a huntress? What if we didn't cross paths?' She took a pause. Jaune patted her back, knowing that there was trapped fluid in her lungs. She silently thanked him as she tried getting back to composure.

'I never put it in that perspective,' said Jaune sincerely. 'I am fortunate that you and I have met. Grateful that we have crossed paths. Even after being caught in that minor scandal of forgery, you stood by my side. You, Ren, Nora, Ruby, everyone that believed in me.'

'You can see how it made you? A better person. Working to do your best to help people, baby,' said Pyrrha. 'But what would have happened if I wasn't there? Would there have been someone else?' She gripped his hand. 'Not trying to be a preacher at all. I believe that sometimes, we go through not for ourselves, but to help others see that they can do. Sounds crazy, but is it really? Because of that incident involving you, the Academy, and Cardin, it had toughened me up to fight for you. Because no matter the consequence, I would have stood by your side.' She lowered her voice. 'Even if it meant leaving the Academy.'

'You know, Pyrrha. I could never get that in-depth as you,' said Jaune. 'I grew in the sticks. Everything was rudimentary. My mother worked. My sisters tend to the farm. There wasn't nothing else but that twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I am not questioning your theory, baby. I just never got that deep into thought like that.'

Pyrrha took an intermittent pause as she allowed herself time to think. She took deep breaths. Knowing for her, Jaune knew that her next set of words was going to be serious.

Jaune wasn't far from the truth.

'Have you ever once think we were put on this planet to be served as an instrument for others? Do you think we were placed for another person to find solace, to find happiness, to find peace? Do you ever think we were here to serve our purpose, to ensure that that person can be led to the right bridge? The right path? I often think like that, sweetheart.'

Jaune didn't answer. How could he? What could he say? Before he could respond, Pyrrha continued to speak.

'Jaune, I often believe that once we serve our purpose, our destiny, then we shall return to the dust where we remain. Of course, I am not saying that could possibly be me, but do you think about it, Jaune? Do you ever think about what could be our destiny to this place?'

Jaune was lost for words. The love of his life, the mother of his precious daughter was presenting him with this information. Jaune looked away. He kept her hand wrapped around him. He felt embarrassed.

For he didn't have the answer.

'Sweetie, don't feel bad if you don't know,' said Pyrrha. 'This wasn't a question to test your loyalty. I know that you are caring and sincere. You are passionate, you are tender and sweet. And I love you for it. Just understand that these are values I believe in. Things I hope to instill on our...our daughter.'

Pyrrha's voice cracked.

'Baby, if...if I don't live long enough to see Joey's first steps or first words…'

'Baby, stop!'

'Jauney, just listen! If I don't make it to Joey's first birthday, I need you to be there for her. I don't want any backtalk. She is going to need her father. She is going to need all of the support she can. Never let my words depart from her mouth. The things I have shown you, please show her. She is an Arc but Nikos runs in her veins. She is going to be a mighty force like her mother.' She reached over and pecked him on the cheek. 'And a mightier force like her father.'

A nurse walked out to the courtyard where Jaune and Pyrrha resided to inform him about the end of visiting hours. The nurse called for an orderly to assist her with Pyrrha. He kept holding her hand until he was pulled away by the nurse. The duo looked at each other until she was pushed into those doors.

A few months later….

After Pyrrha's funeral, it was at the foot of their bed where Jaune could be found. He sat quietly. Eyes still staring at the abyss that he had to call his new normal. The door stood before him. Behind there were people. People he knew. People he loved. People who he called his family.

The repast took place at their home. The Schnee family told Jaune and his family that they would provide and take care of anything. No expense presented to him. He was grateful, he was humble.

That was his feelings on the surface. Within the confinements of his soul, he was numb, lost, and dejected. At the same time, he was angry, felt like Oum had cheated him. Why Pyrrha? Why would this so-called all-fearing, all-loving Oum allow criminals, destitute, thieves, murderers to live and to allow such a beautiful rose to go away? He knew that Pyrrha was always considered an angel. Even at the pulpit, the priest proclaimed that Pyrrha had such a presence onto this world that Oum needed his angel to return for all of heaven to see.

By now, Jaune was used to being cut short. Blessings that were halted, vanishing quickly as soon as he received it. He came into this hurtful world in perfect health. At the age of three, he suffered from standstills, unknown and random seizures that caused him to blackout. Although it became treatable, when he goes under severe stress, he blacked out. At the age of six, he had lost his father in a house fire. A fire he blames himself for starting. The fire department concluded to be faulty wiring from a crockpot. A crockpot that he forgot to turn off before going to bed. The crockpot that led to the horrendous fire. The very fire that Jaune begged his father to go back and get his stuffed teddy bear. The stuffed teddy bear that aided him with his stress and his seizures. The very fire that Jaune's father briskly returned to get before the support beams of the home caved in, eliminating any access to escape.

On one hand, he held onto the obituary. The homegoing celebration of his dearly departed wife.

He didn't have the chance to read it yet. Honestly, he didn't want to read it. If one was to read the events, it would have only given a brief taste of her life. Her upbringing, her successes, their marriage, the celebration of their daughter, and her final demise.

He sucked up as much energy he could to keep himself from crying. Even if he could, there were no more tears. All was left at the altar after witnessing his wife one last time.

Her makeup was done by Weiss' stylist. Red was the color on her lipstick. A color pastel of red and orange on her palish face. Autumn colors were the color of her dress. Weiss didn't spare any expense on being sure that Pyrrha wouldn't leave this world wearing any kind of attire. The stylist did as much as she could to make her picture-perfect. Even as Jaune with sunken eyes looked to his beloved Pyrrha, her presence, her charm, things that garnered him to want her, to desire, and to marry her.

Now, it was closed. To be concealed by a tomb, made out of the finest and purest metal. Lying in a cold state, to be buried in the soil where she will return to the earth.

Jaune, I often believe that once we serve our purpose, our destiny, then we shall return to the dust where we will remain.

He put the obituary to the side. Sliding it away where he could see it. Under some towels that Pyrrha folded several weeks before her final hospital visit. Towels he wasn't ready to put up. Even the bed where the coroner came to pick up the body remained the same. Pyrrha never liked her side of the bed to be made. It was an organized mess. The skirt, untucked. Her pillow slouched and smeared with dry saliva and lipstick. Things she always told him that she would get to it and never did. It all remained the same. He wasn't ready. Not yet. Not yet to close the chapter of that book.

Just as he wasn't ready to read the obituary. The words that were written by the woman herself.

It was a slight knock that diverted his attention. Upon the twist of the knob, it had opened.

"Jaune." The voice was calm, tranquil, deep. A raspy voice but a voice he knew very well. The very voice that belonged to the mother of his beloved Pyrrha. She stood stiffly as if she was being cautious about the next set of words. Her lips were pursed. Her eyes were frozen. The direction was to the right side of the bed where her daughter once slept. She released a strong sigh. She reached into her pocket for a handkerchief, slowly dabbing her teas. She, too, tried her best to keep her teas. She played an important role as the officiator of the funeral. A role she volunteered as Jaune could hardly pick himself up to even go to the funeral home to speak with the representatives.

She closed the door gently. Her curly red hair covered her pale turquoise eyes. Even through the wrinkles and the smoky raccoon eyelid, a faint presence of Pyrrha was there. The one-half that gave Pyrrha life and into this hurtful world.

"Joey is being watched by your sister Saphron and Terra," she said matter-of-factly. He didn't budge. He nodded accordingly. Even to the cautious eyes of Pyrrha's mother, she wasn't sure if it was an instinctive nod or just following suit through the motions. She approached him, keeping her distance. She placed her purse to the side and sat near him. Jaune continued looking forward at the door. What reason, Pyrrha's mother was thinking. She knew better but at the same time could relate.

It was a Saturday. It was a quarter after two in the afternoon. Around this time, Pyrrha would whimsically enter into the bedroom after a long day of working outside on her garden. A hobby she picked up after spending time with Weiss. But a hobby that she enjoyed nonetheless. She wasn't quite a green thumb and her plants tend to always die. Nevertheless, she was always melodically in a song, knowing that she would one day have the garden of her dreams.

"She...looked beautiful." Jaune listened as he nodded to his mother-in-law. "She looked as those she was there to impress." She made slight laughter, more so out of nervousness. "They really did a good job of taking care of her." She sniffled. "I am happy to see her beautiful on her final send-" She cut off herself. She turned to see Jaune remained still, posting his eyes at the door. Eyes squinting, fingers locked, hoping if not praying that a beautiful woman of Oum would appear behind that door.

"Those hydrangeas," Jaune spoke for the first time. It was more so of a whisper. "Those hydrangeas are growing in the bushes." Jaune spread the digits of his fingers onto his thigh. He began shaking his leg. A poor habit, he admitted, but it managed his nerves. "I couldn't forget the day that Pyrrha purchased them."

Jaune shifted his stiff neck to Pyrrha's mother. "We purchased them at a steal literally." Jaune continued to stare at his mother-in-law. "We were at a fruit stand when the man came from a dusty unmarked black van. Snuff was on the corner of his face and beard. He smelled like three-day-old cereal butter and his clothes were bleacher than Michael Jackson skin tags."

Pyrrha's mother covered her mouth to shield her laughter. However, she felt that this was refreshing. Reminiscing on memories versus staying on the current state of mourning.

"He'd said that we were the kind of hippies that would like plants."

"He'd said that?"

"Well, he said something worse but hippies were the best way to say it," said Jaune. "So, grabbing hold to his pants, he walked in a bow-legged cowboy stance to the back of the van." He turned to his mother-in-law. "And of course, Mom, I kept Pyrrha behind me as always."

"Semblance on guard?"

"Always." Jaune inhaled sharply. "So, we approached the van and within the shaggy, more bleached carpeting were flowers. Roses, daffodils, hydrangeas, you name it." He swayed his hands. "Of course, I have to ask what was his intentions. He said, 'nothing. I thought you hippies like flowers and I wanted to sell them to you.'" He nodded his head. "I can't take care of a flower from making a simple cup of coffee. However, it was Pyrrha would decide to intervene. She wanted to know his price." He briefly paused as he was releasing a laugh. "Mom, your daughter knows how to haggle and won't stop until she got what she wanted. Anyway, it got to the point where the guy, we nicknamed Bleach, and Pyrrha was back and forth on prices..."

It was conversations that got him through on that day. After spending time with Pyrrha's mother, he felt confident to return to the living room to fellowship with the others. There wasn't a dry eye in the room and then, there weren't any negative expressions either when discussing her. Everyone had something nice to say about the dearly departed Spartan to the bereaved widower. Lie Ren and Nora bringing back memories of their misadventures as teammates. Yang's origin of his nickname and how Pyrrha overly used it even after finishing school. The well-wishers stayed long enough to watch their wedding video and the video of their daughter's birth. Pyrrha's mother and Jaune's mother kept him close, holding each hand to know that he was okay.

One thing for sure, Jaune was surrounded by the love and comfort of those who cared.

'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.'

'Good. Because if you did, then consequences will be made, Vomit Boy.'

'Sick and still making threats. You are a fighter.'

'As long Oum gives me breath, I will still fight, sweetheart. For you and for Joey.'

Daddy!

Daddy!

Daddy!

Pop-Pop!

Joey's voice filled his ear canal. No longer was he sitting with his wife in front of the hospital. No longer was sitting with his former mother-in-law. His eyes were focused on the right-hand signal. He was supposedly heading to Blake's house.

"Daddy," asked the precocious child.

He turned to his daughter. "Yes, sweetness?!"

"Your nose is bleeding," answered Joey concerningly.

Jaune touched the bridge of his lips to feel the hotness of blood. He pulled over to the side of the road. He tried searching through the glove compartment for a tissue.

"Here, Daddy!" Jaune turned to see her holding onto his handkerchief. He must have dropped it after taking care of her earlier in the home. "Come forward to me," said Joey. Jaune leaned over while his daughter, in the best way she could, wiped the blood from his nose. "Pain, pain, fly away! Pain, pain, fly away!"

Jaune thanked his daughter by kissing her on the cheek. "Thank you, my little Kickapoo!"

She smiled, showing her little teeth. "You're welcome, Daddy Sweetness!" She kicked her legs. "Excited to go to the fair! Going to the fair!" She clapped her hands.

"So am I, little JoJo," replied Jaune.

"Can I eat cotton candy until I puke?"

"Not until you puke but you can one or two!"

"Funnel cakes?!"

"Certainly!"

"Ride the Ferris wheel, go on the go-karts, feed the sheep…"

"Yes, yes, and yes, sweetness."

"This is exciting! You, me, and Ms. Belladonna! It is like we are a family!"

Jaune didn't answer. But, he wasn't going to allow his sadness to take the best of him. He was an Arc and he was a man of his word to accompany Blake to the carnival. As he was shifting the gears of his vehicle into drive, the words of Pyrrha entered into his mind.

'If a bad memory is like a bird, it is okay to know it is sitting on a branch nearby. It is okay to notice it fly and sing. Yet move in calmness with eyes only for the nature around you, with skin that feels the wind and eyes that open for the light. When your mind naturally moves back into the present, into the moment that is the gift of life, the bird will be gone.'

"Let's have fun, Joey! You, me, and Ms. Belladonna!"

To be continued….

GOTA: I will do my best to stay consistent with this story. I promise that Blake will be in the next chapter.

BD: Do what you can, sweetness! I am glad that you are taking some of my slack.

GOTA: Anything to finish the series! You gave a great start!

BD: Glad that you are doing it, sweetness! Stay tuned for more!