Not Even Aura can Heal All Wounds
By wildstraydog
Chapter Six: Stages
Beta: Super Saiyan Cyndaquil
Hey guys, well I'm back from vacation and ready to continue my regular schedule update again. I was at RTX, and boy... that RWBY panel blew my pants away. No seriously, it was amazing, I mean new animation!? Anyway, I haven't forgot about any of my series, and while I was having fun, the story was further developed. For this chapter, things get a little dark, especially in regards everyone's reactions of what happened in the last chapter.
For so many years, escorting the dead to the empty tombs of the mortuary situated beneath the academy never became an elementary task. To Ozpin, it was the one location he avoided if at all possible; the dank and cool room was rarely visited, with one of the doctors from the medical wing taking up the task to examine the bodies. At this point however it didn't really matter – Grimm were usually responsible for nearly all the deaths that took place at Beacon. The worst part was informing the families, but thankfully that task was left to the headmaster of the Vale Medical Preparatory school.
Ozpin wrinkled his nose and cleared his throat, the urge to consume a cup of coffee surfacing. As he exited the elevator, his cane echoed as it met the concrete stairs that were barely illuminated by the lights hanging above on the pillars on both sides. The stairs led to a narrow hallway that stretched over to a single metal padded door with mist escaping from the crack under the door. Glynda elected not to attend, more concerned with the mental state of her students – though he heard that Jaune Arc locked himself away in his room for several days.
He rapped the door three times, until it creaked opened with the doctor on the other side, his face covered in a mask. Ozpin felt his shoulders go stiff from the sudden chill that assaulted him, but paid it no attention, striding past the doctor to see the naked bodies of the two children strewn about the table. The autopsy was already completed, their stomached threaded shut and their eyelids cleaned. They appeared so peaceful given their circumstances. He stood next to the cold body of the girl known as Tawny, and crouched on one knee.
"I'll give you a minute, Headmaster." The doctor uttered, shifting out of the room in a hurry.
The headmaster bowed his head, staring at the concrete floor that cracked in the middle, and the dust that filled the outlines. A sigh escaped from him, and he looked up to stare at the body, focusing his sight on her shut eyes. "I would like... to extend my full condolences – I failed you while you were under the protection of my school."
Only met with silence, Ozpin, lifted himself up from the ground and adjusted his glasses, wiping away a lone tear that dripped down his cheek. There was nothing else he could say that would justify their deaths, only the excuse of politics and budget cuts left for the poor souls to blame. Their only solace was to be free from the never ending war with the Grimm – this could have been prevented if the proper steps were taken, not that his countless warnings would ever make themselves heard by the council members.
His duty was done, leaving him a chance to address the student body with another report of innocents lost. The speech was already prepared in his head – it would be brief, but enough for the children to digest and mull over. Some would consider him a hypocrite, especially since his job was to send out teenagers to battle monsters of unimaginable horror to protect the world. No, his job was to meld them into warriors and become the saviors Remnant needed.
A shame that so many would have to die for peace.
A week had gone by, and Weiss still couldn't forget the look of horror on Jaune's face when he unzipped that body bag. She relaxed her head back on the fluffy infirmary pillow, dragging the covers down to her stomach because of the heat. The surgery to fix her leg only took a couple of hours the night they returned, but the whole ordeal in the Forever Fall tired her out, the welcome comfort of sleep consuming her. Weiss was always an early riser, and the mornings following were no different. Each day was the same, but the wait for her team following classes was always dreadful.
How atrocious was it that classes still resumed after two students died? Then again, almost no one else was effected by the loss except her circle of friends and Jaune, but the fact left with her a bad taste of the normalcy. But what she found even more intolerable, was the lack of pure sympathy she should have expressed – she was unable to shed any tears for a total stranger, and it worried her. The only solace was that all of her friends were still alive.
She turned her head to the left and gazed out the window, taking in the picturesque blue sky and drifting clouds. A low branch hung in view, and in the corner of the trunk was a small nest. The scene was too cliché, like something out of a soppy romance movie, but she enjoyed it. The peace was somewhat unsettling compared to the events days ago, still cursing her mistake, regardless if it was because she was defending Jaune – she wasted her aura way too fast.
A loud slam jolted her as Ruby and the others rushed into the infirmary as a nurse protested their noisiness. A ball of red collided into her side as Ruby ensnared her frame with her tiny childlike arms. Where she got her extraordinary strength was beyond her.
"I'm so glad you're okay Weiss," Ruby blurted out, "Are you doing ok - is there anything you need? Oh, I know, how about I-" She covered Ruby's mouth and rolled her eyes, waiting for her excited partner to calm down.
"To answer your question, I'm doing fine. They performed surgery last night, but it will take a week or so to heal up completely with my aura." Ruby let out a relieved sigh, her cheery smile infectious as it spread to even Blake.
"I see you're doing fine as well." She directed at Blake.
"Yes, if not for Jaune's quick thinking I could have died... the doctors only needed to bring down my fever." Blake broke eye contact and stared at the floor, embarrassed to voice her own mistake in battle.
"By the way Weiss," Yang cut in, "there's another reason we came to see you, not that we don't adore coming to see you're crabby face." The blonde's joke aside, she was curious – if it was news on Jaune and the others, it would be most welcome.
"What's going on?"
Yang hesitated to speak until Blake stepped forward. "Headmaster Ozpin called an assembly for the students after lunch, and we're sure it's because of... what happened in the Forever Fall." An announcement?
"Oh, I almost forgot – be right back!" a trail of rose petals took the place of Ruby as she burst out of the infirmary. Weiss noticed a quick sigh from her blonde teammate, her usual energetic lilac eyes more focused.
"I assume you already informed Ruby of what happened?" Yang grimaced at the question and nodded, fiddling with a lock of hair.
"Yeah, of course, she's trying to take it in stride though, would probably be much worse if you and Blake didn't turn out okay. In fact, she's running to get you a gift as we speak – so be nice!" Yang chastised, poking her finger at the sheets. The tone was similar to how Winter would reprimand her.
"Speaking of... how is Jaune and the others doing?" An awkward silence followed the question, both girls diverting their gaze and shuffling their feet.
"According to Goodwitch, he's been locked in his dorm since he returned, they've been unable to get a response from him. Ren told me Pyrrha's also pretty devastated – the poor girl keeps blaming herself." Yang explained it all with a downcast gaze, her voice shaken at the news.
"So it's our fault, we should all just wallow in pity?" Yang was broke out of her pitied state and stared in confusion, tilting her head at the question.
"Why shouldn't we feel bad, people just died Weiss."
"Only because they chose to step on the battlefield."
How she presented her statement might have been cruel, but it was fact. Jaune and the other medics chose to serve on the field with Huntsman and Huntresses, after all, the school taught them of the risks that could occur. She shouldn't have to feel guilty because the Grimm did what they did – it was war, causalities are to be always expected. Of course she felt bad for Jaune, he just lost a friend, yet she was taught to look past this, to keep moving forward lest she be dragged down by her emotions. Although if it wasn't for people like Jaune, she and Blake might have died yesterday.
"You don't mean that right, that doesn't mean we should just forget them!" Yang almost yelled, earning uneasy stares from the medical staff.
"No, of course not," She whispered, "But we're Huntresses in-training, the possibility of death is always open. This is something we have to get used to." Yang dropped her glare and pursed her lips, a huff escaping from her thin lips as she accepted the truth.
"It's something we all have to learn to adjust to," Blake remarked from behind as she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. Weiss knew what she was referring to – all the friends she probably lost while in the White Fang. She couldn't blame Yang for being optimistic, she was only trying to shield Ruby from the cruel reality of the world.
Blake got up from the wall and approached her bed, placing a hand on her shoulder in a display of comfort. "We need to leave for the assembly, I'll have Ruby leave the gift outside while you get some rest." Yang nodded and left out the door, a somber expression still present on her face.
"Thank you Blake," She returned the gesture and squeezed her hand for some form of warmth. "I need some time alone to think." Blake shook her head, letting go of Weiss and leaving the room as her boots clicked against the tiled floor.
The door shut as some of the light from the room faded, and a shadow was cast onto her rested frame. A cloud blanketed the sun outside the window, setting the mood for her train of thought. Weiss gripped the cover of her sheets and pulled it back up to her neck, the absence of Blake's warmth from earlier troubling. She was conflicted, unsure of how to feel regarding the past couple of days, wanting a way to justify her lack of sympathy for the girl known as Tawny. Was she that horrible? Could she really not care like the others did?
Weiss twisted in the bed, careful to not irritate her leg while sitting the pillow on top of her hair. She was glad it was only her team who visited – She wasn't comfortable when people saw her hair laid bare, it was just so plain and non-formal in her opinion. Even with the room quiet, she could hear the distinct sounds of footsteps and the beeping of monitors from the other room. She didn't want to leave the infirmary and have to face the dreaded faces of her friends, let alone Jaune. How was she to thank him now when he was emotionally broken?
Life just wasn't fair... a sentiment she constantly felt while training as a little girl to be the perfect heiress. There was no time for her to dawdle and complain, there was only one task at hand. She was the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, and there was no time for friends – at least that was what her servants and Father taught her. But what made her afraid of the most, was that one day everyone she met would drift away like the snow while she buries herself in the company. Speaking to Jaune at all was a mistake.
Perhaps if Jaune and his friends had never come to Beacon, everything would have stayed the same. No one would have died and her team's happy-go lucky demeanor would have remained intact – yes it was Jaune's fault, he should have known what would have happened. Even if she knew it was wrong, she needed someone to blame. All she could do at this point was distance herself again, to push away the boy who saved her life... it was laughable how manipulated her life was. She envied Jaune, how free he was to defy his family.
Tired with berating herself, Weiss flipped over on the bed and relaxed, her soft blue eyes fluttering shut. As long as she was asleep, no one controlled her.
Another brown leather book slammed against Jaune's room as he remained bent over his table whimpering. With his left arm he threw his supplies and other textbooks onto the ground into a pile, a weak laugh erupting from him. Jaune considered himself a fool for even attempting to make sense of how he felt right now, scrambling for answers in psychological texts detailing the many stages of grief one could experience. Tears stained the metal desk in his room despite his worn out eyes, his body exhausted from crying every few minutes or so.
An author by the name of Kubler Bolt presented a medical theory that humans experienced a series of different phases when losing a love one or feeling great loss. From what the text was saying, he was on stage two: Anger, but that was laughable – he postulated that he already went through most of the stages in one night. But who was he to say? There was no telling what everyone thought of him right now, especially all of those students that mocked their skills. Weiss had been right the entire time, they couldn't help on the battlefield.
Sure he saved her, but it was his fault... if she hadn't risked her life to protect him from the Ursa, she would have never suffered a fracture. He was an idiot with a feeble dream, simple as that, and what about the fabulous Pyrrha Nikos, wasn't she supposed to be some almighty champion? And yet she couldn't even protect one defenseless girl. Jaune remembered the wounds he briefly saw, the jagged claw marks against her stomach and the puncture wounds from the Grimm's fangs. She went quickly.
He stood from the desk and kicked one of the books on the floor across the room, not caring that it dented the edges of the text. Jaune collapsed on the bed and sat there in the dark, the blinds to his room shut so the outside world couldn't invade. The door was locked, although Professor Goodwitch attempted to speak with him several times throughout the week. He never answered, not desiring conversation from anyone, let alone any of the staff at beacon who could have intervened and saved them. What did it matter, the Hunters considered them throwaway tools, just extra bodies to pile in the war with the Grimm.
One eye peeked below at the floor on the right side of his bed, noticing that one particular book, the one that started Jaune's pursuit into the medical field. He tossed aside the blue covers to his bed and snatched it up from the floor, grabbing it tight on both ends and trying foolishly to tear it in half in anger. Maybe his Father was always correct, that he would amount to nothing because of his lack of training and skill, and that his only place in the world was back at home farming. A tear dropped on the cover of the book – he tried to close his eyes and stop the next downpour, but he lacked the strength, collapsing onto his knees.
The amount of fatigue from mourning was taxing on Jaune. All he wanted to do was rest and never wake up, to forget about school and Tawny... but how long until another mission was announced? He wouldn't be up for it, and if he quit now the berating from his sisters back at home would be unbearable. He got up from the ground and headed back over to his desk, the book still in his grip as he wiped away the tears with his other hand. Jaune placed the book on his table and opened it up, flipping the page to the quote that inspired him years ago.
His narrowed ocean blue eyes were puffy, but as he stared at the page, nothing happened. A chuckle began to sound, the thought of some message bringing him back from despair was humorous. A miniscule speck of hope was all he needed... for someone to reveal the light in the dark. A gentle knock on his door broke him from his thoughts, followed by a few seconds of silence until the familiar authoritative tone of Professor Goodwitch spoke from the other side of the door.
"Jaune... it's Professor Goodwitch again." With reluctance, he marched over to the door and decided to open it, tired of the loneliness that encompassed him.
"H-hello, Professor." Talking didn't feel natural, like a lethargic task.
"I'm glad to see you decided to talk, we've been worried about you." Glynda placed her hand on his shoulder.
The warmth from the young woman's hands were comforting, and he invited the professor in. Jaune decided to lie on his bed while Glynda sat in his only chair by the desk, cradling something wrapped in tinfoil under her left arm. He didn't know what to expect from her, perhaps a chiding in not allowing Beacon's staff to properly check up on him, or maybe a quick lesson because of the classes he missed today. Glynda's expression remained demure, blinking in small intervals as she sat the tinfoil down on the desk.
"Are you hungry Jaune, I brought you a sandwich." She pointed to the tinfoil wrapped sandwich. A low grumble erupted from his stomach, having gone hours without food.
"I, I will thank you." He got up from his bed and walked over to the desk, grabbing the sandwich and undoing the tinfoil that surrounded it.
The sandwich was simple: turkey, tomatoes, mustard, and lettuce – it was enough to satisfy him however, as he devoured it in mere seconds like a starved animal, crumbs falling onto the floor. He would have been embarrassed to eat in such a way, especially in front of an esteemed professor, but nothing mattered to him now. When he was done, he crumbled up the tinfoil and threw it into the trashcan near the door, wiping away the stains on his mouth.
"Quite hungry weren't you?"
"Yeah I suppose so... what did you want Professor?" A stupid question, though it was the only way he saw of broaching the subject.
"That much should be obvious, the faculty and you're friends are extremely worried about your condition. What you're doing isn't healthy, nor will it help with your grieving." He knew to expect it, but he still averted his gaze, finding the ground more favorable to Glynda's intense stare.
"It's too hard," He mumbled, "I tried to do my best, to prove everyone wrong – that even someone as weak as I, could help others. And what happened? I almost got Weiss killed, and now Tawny..." He couldn't even finish until he started blubbering, hardly any more tears left to spill.
"You may not believe this, but you're not weak, not by any standard whatsoever. I heard what you did for Miss Schnee and Miss Belladonna – we would be mourning four students if not for your intervention." Glynda stood up from the chair and walked over to his bed, sitting next to the blonde.
"I-if that were true... then." He whimpered.
Glynda in a rare form of sincerity, grabbed Jaune and pulled him into an embrace. She didn't care if he was staining her blouse with tears, the boy needed comfort from an adult, and his estranged parents weren't available. The woman knew too well about the Arc family's treatment of their son, and the feeling of helplessness that he felt was not unknown to her. Glynda was quite familiar when it came to dealing with the loss of a friend – a sad truth for most Huntsman and Huntresses. She was never cut out to be a mother, so the act of holding a crying teenager was foreign to her, but it made her feel good to help.
"What can I do... please tell me Professor?" Jaune looked up into the professor's eyes, his eyes shimmering as he awaited for an answer.
"Remember them – don't linger on the past and what ifs, reminiscent about the better days. Jaune, everyone at Beacon is available to talk, and if you ever need someone to convey how your feeling, my office is always open." He didn't answer, only nodding his head as he turned away from Glynda in embarrassment at his actions.
The pain in his heart was still there, but the heaviness he felt earlier was lifted. The memories of their short time together back at the Vale Medical Preparatory School seemed like years ago. He would heed the Professor's advice and try to move forward, even if it was still difficult to move around without bursting into a slobbering mess. What he needed was sleep, a moment to relax and not dwell on her death. Some of the books he read said that counseling was an optimal healing process.
"I'll, take your offer into consideration, Professor."
"Thank you," Glynda let go of Jaune and stood up, "I'll be going now, I and Ozpin need to prepare arrangements for the family." The family... oh lord, he didn't know what to say to Tawny's mother.
"Don't think about it Jaune, get some rest." Glynda made for the door and nodded, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Wouldn't it be so simple to forget?
He slipped under the covers of his bed and turned to face the wall. Jaune found that his eyes were already closing, a welcome sign as he needed the rest. They said in your dreams that the dead could speak to you... he hoped that was true.
Blake didn't know what drove her to pull out Jaune's book of poetry, but after days of dealing with somber attitudes and the sadden looks of her friends, she needed something uplifting and pleasant. She was alone in her dorm, as Ruby and Yang decided to head into Vale to pick up some things that might cheer Weiss up while she was cooped up in the infirmary. The nurses said that she would be released tomorrow, so taking advantage of the silence in the room was critical. So why choose Jaune's poetry of all things and not another romance novel she loved? Hearing today about Jaune's reclusive nature probably triggered it.
She relaxed against her pillow on the bunkbed, releasing a lax sigh as she opened up the orange leather book and undid the black strap. There was no introductory message, just the first poem scribbled out in pencil. Blake didn't mind, as long as the writing itself was legible; the handwriting actually wasn't terrible, perhaps almost better then hers. There had to be over a thousand poems in the notebook, even if they weren't masterpieces, Blake admired his commitment to the craft. She never attempted to write before despite her love of reading – the amount of ideas in her head could be the source for hundreds of novels.
The first poem was short: The month of August was quiet, tiny leaves fluttering to the ground, destined for the cold hard surface of the world. A breeze that followed would lost for only minutes, but seem like decades to the lifeless grass that swayed against the wind.
Believe it or not, but she found herself in awe at the simplest details that Jaune wrote down. It wasn't the most elegant of poems by far, especially since it didn't follow any particular beat or rhythm. She flipped through the book and glanced at different sized poems, noticing that along the way some details became more concise. With more discipline and time, Jaune could turn into a very competent writer – it was too bad Weiss was ignoring him, the heiress was sure to have some advice in that category.
She placed the book down and stretched, peeking over at her scroll that now read 9:00 P.M., much later then she anticipated it to be. In all her time of lounging in the room, she forgot to eat dinner. It was almost hard to believe that Yang and the others still had yet to return, and boredom was beginning to set – she expected to be tired after having classes. The restlessness lead her mind to wander, curious to know how Jaune and Pyrrha was faring. Ren would have said something if they needed her help, and Nebula texted her earlier to say that Pyrrha fell asleep crying again.
How Pyrrha blamed herself for Tawny's death, was puzzling to the Faunus. The peerless girl must have done her best to prevent any harm to Tawny, and from what Nebula and Ren mentioned, she slaughtered hundreds of Grimm. The creatures of the dark were ruthless, and they would have looked for any opening in their formation – even the Grimm could figure out who the weakest link on a team was. The harsh reality was though, that almost all her friends weren't prepared to face death, much less Ruby Rose, their innocent team leader.
You would think that a school for Huntsman and Huntresses would have classes or counseling to prepare students for any losses on the battlefield. Of course during the assembly, Ozpin offered just that, inviting anyone affected by the mission to visit the professors. At the end of the day, mistakes were made, and the medics didn't seem ready for the lifestyle that was war... what was the Council thinking? She would never know the political machinations behind the arrangement.
Done musing, Blake turned back to look at the book Jaune lent her, the presence of it somehow feeling out of place with the rest of her belongings. Maybe it was a poor excuse to check on the fool – she needed to thank him as well, if it wasn't for him, she could have died. It irked her to feel obligated to someone else, Blake never having been in the position to be saved, unless it was by Adam. She wouldn't let some pride get in the way of doing what was right; not one to admit it, but she was horrible when it came to apologies.
Blake Yawned and grabbed the book off the top of her bunk, turning off the lights before heading into the halls. She didn't have an exact plan on how to get Jaune to answer, since he was locked in the room for days. His room was situated on the other side of the academy – most of the students from the medical school were separated from everyone at Beacon. Ozpin probably figured that bullying was inevitable given the tensions between the two groups. Not surprising at all to be honest.
The hallways were empty, and from the windows she could make out the shattered moon from the corner. Blake stared at the door with her amber eyes and sighed, unable to predict what would happen after she knocked on the door – probably silence if she had to guess. They always said that procrastination was humanity's biggest flaw... she found this all so awkward, how nervous she was.
The back of her palm knocked softly on the door, though loud enough that Jaune would hear it. She gave it a few seconds before knocking it again, but at this point Blake wasn't expecting an answer. She decided if Jaune didn't answer, then she would just hold onto the book until he was ready to come out – until the door opened and startled her.
"Jaune – I, didn't expect you to open the door." She tried to hide the blush on her cheeks.
"Sorry, yeah I'm kind of surprised as well... um, what are you doing here?" Blake studied his figure, his blonde hair more ragged than usual, and his blue eyes were narrowed, the edges of his lids jaded with black lines.
"To return this." Blake presented him with the notebook and Jaune's eyes lit up, grabbing hold of the hard edges with an upturned smile. She was glad to see him moving about instead of wallowing in the dark like she heard.
"Thank you Blake, I really appreciate this – what did you think?" Even when he spoke, his voice sound tired, as if he gave up long ago.
"Honestly, I thought they were really good, but you could do better with more practice. Tell me, do you usually just write what's on your mind?" Any excuse to drive the conversation away from Tawny was fine.
"Glad to see you liked them," Jaune looked back into the room and pushed the door further open. "Would you like to come in for a second?" She would have declined, but she still needed to apologize, that and he looked like he needed the company at the moment.
As she entered, her inspection of the room was brief; a simple desk and bookshelf with a bed and window covered by the blinds. Jaune flipped on the lights and sat on his bed, rubbing the front of the notebook with his hand. She opted to sit in the chair, crossing her legs as she made herself comfortable.
"Another reason why I came by Jaune... well, I need to apologize and thank you." Jaune flinched at her suggestion, his smile vanishing at being slightly reminded about the mission. She knew this wouldn't be easy.
"Blake, you have no reason to apologize," Jaune responded curtly, surprising her by his tone of voice. "You made a simple mistake, it happens in battle... I saw you were in trouble, that's why I saved you." A simple mistake, she didn't see it that way, considering she almost died.
"Jaune, I almost died, what you did is no small matter. Don't let anyone say otherwise. Not only that... but what happened in the Forever Fall is no one's fault!" her outburst came as a surprise to herself, but seeing Jaune hunched over with that dead-eyed expression angered her.
"We should have never been out there, you and Weiss were right the whole time."
Blake scoffed. "Listen to me – what you do, no, what all of you do from that school is to help save lives where others can't, and you proved that." Blake folded her arms and glared at Jaune, her ears twitching behind bow. She hoped the conviction was present in her glare.
He needed to know that she was wrong.
"I...," Jaune lifted his head to look at her, blue eyes focusing on her amber one's as they shook and became blurred by tears. "Why did it have to happen Blake, why did they have to die?" She lost her intensity, the weight of the transparent question weighing on her.
"Life is cruel, but there is always a beacon of hope, you just have to search for it." Jaune sniffled, wiping away the tears.
"I always look for it in this book, the one that inspired me to be who I am today." Jaune walked over to his desk and held out the worn gray book. But the author's name caught her attention immediately.
"Dr. Peach... is that the author?"
"Do you know who it is?" Jaune asked. "That's amazing, I never could find any information." Blake took hold of the book and cupped her chin, the realization hitting her in an instant.
"I do know her, and she goes by Professor Peach."
Sorry if this is a crappy cliffhanger, but I found it the most appropriate place to stop. Now some of you may know or not, but Professor Peach is a canonical character, and was confirmed as a woman. Everything else is up in the air, so I'll be taking advantage of that. Hope you guys enjoyed the story, and sorry for the long delay.