Okay, I know I said it'd take less time to write but between losing my drive, being ill, a sudden cold snap and generally no feeling it was good enough, I lost the power to finish this. But now it's down to, what I hope, is a good standard. So here is the concluding part of When I Fall. It won't answer everything, but since when did animes/manga tie off all loose ends after the first series?

Anyway, here's the epilogue. Enjoy.

I'm sorry it came to this, sweetpea. I didn't expect him to be the same but... This...

I hope he can forgive me for bringing you here. For causing this.

But you can't stay here anymore, honey. It's time to go.

There's more to your life than just pain and chaos.

It's time to go find it.

"HELP! Somebody help me!"

A young girl of fourteen sprints through the forest, auburn hair flowing in the breeze, her floral dress tattered and dirty, desperate to escape the men seeking to kill her. She'd done them no wrong, never hurt them, never even met them, yet they chased her all the same. Why? The reason was simple; She'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was a Faunus, as had her family been, trying to escape the slaughter of Beacon and reach friends in the kingdom of Atlas. It would be dangerous, they knew that, but they'd never expected humans to be a greater threat than Grimm... There'd been three originally. Driving out of the city, her mother and father with her in the car, they'd come across someone who appeared in need of help. Most would've drove on, either paranoid or just plain scared of stopping given the chaos behind them. They didn't. They were good people, decent people, who couldn't turn away an innocent person in need. Pulling over, her father and mother getting out of the car to help, guns were drawn on them before they even had time to react, the teen sinking into her seat in fear, panda ears atop her head twitching frantically. Bandits looking to profit on those who escaped the madness behind them and were too weak to fight back. And bandits aren't renown for leaving their victims alive. Instinctively, her father shielded his wife, defending her, knowing fully how these people acted. Threats were made, both by the villains and her parents, as she carefully unlatched the door and slipped out to hide behind the car. She was young, small, so sneaking off came naturally. If she didn't want to be seen, they'd not see her. But then tempers flared, voices were raised, threats became even more graphic, and she watched as her mother drew a cheap pistol they'd bought long before she was born. While they'd never used it before, it had been kept around for defensive reasons. Granted, it was mostly for anti-Faunus humans, but situations like this proved it was certainly going to be needed at some point. It didn't matter where you lived, there was always going to be bad people in every kingdom.

The gun was held behind her back, hidden, waiting, a death grip on steel by a mother who wanted, needed, to protect her family from three cruel humans who lived to make others suffer. The teen just coward, hiding behind the car, hoping everything would be okay. But, a fact all in Remnant knew, life is no fairytale. There's no happy endings. No true love lasting forever. No triumph that doesn't come without the cost of many, many lives.

A single gun shot, a scream of horror, and she was down a father.

A second shot, then a third, pained screaming all the while, and she was an orphan.

They killed her father first, trying to send a message or perhaps with cruel intentions for his wife, before her mother fought back. It wasn't enough, but it was something. Both her parents had suffered quick deaths, clean shots through the head, but one of the bandits had suffered her wrath. He'd taken a bullet to the gut, bleeding heavily, likely having lost a good portion of intestine in the process. He'd die, it wasn't like outlaws had a code when someone is injured, less people meant more of a share. But for the time, he was going to scream and scream loud. And while he did, she saw it as her chance to run. If she didn't, they'd find her while looting the car and she'd been completely defenseless. So she did. She didn't even think about it, feet hammering the dirt, bolting into the thick brush and hearing the shouts of the murderers behind her. The injured party had been abandoned on the road as the others chased her, leaving him to either bleed out or be devoured by whatever found him there, unwilling to allow their bloodlust be unsated. To her luck, the woods were good cover from any attempts to shoot her, the bullet striking an innocent tree or missing entirely in the process. Likewise, her small stature allowed her to easily dart through the roots and branches ahead of her. But, unlike those hunting her, she lacked stamina. And when being chased by men trying to kill you, men who want to see you hurt for no reason beyond they can, stamina is essential. Either to escape them... Or to endure whatever they inflict on you. She couldn't run forever, as much as she wanted, forced to take brief breaks between frantic sprints, beyond so young and having never needed to run for her life before. Things had been good, she had a decent life with caring parents and now it had all turned to shit. All gone to hell because of a few criminals who wanted quick cash and a quicker thrill. The third man couldn't be heard now, either due to how fair they'd gotten from him or because he'd finally met his end, but his allies (if you could even proclaim they had been that) were still on her tail. And, forced through the harsh woodlands for her own survival, the poor teen had taken a battering from nature.

Her skin was dirty, whipped by sharp branched, and sore all over while her dress had been tattered and frayed in placed for the same reasons. She panted, ears twitching, terrified, begging for them to stop pursuing her. She ran again, pushing through the trees, gasping, realizing she'd been crying the entire time as tears streamed down her face, exhausted but resisting the death following her. But one lapse in focus, one single mistake, and she was floored. She'd been running for what felt like hours, never knowing where she was or where she was heading, assuming the forest would go on forever. But when it didn't, when rows of trees suddenly because a steep slope, when her foot couldn't find solid ground to land upon and instead flew through nothingness, sending her tumbling down to an open dirt road, she landed with a painful thud. The air knocked out of her, dazed, she tried to scramble to her feet but found she barely had the energy anymore. Shuffling backwards, pressed against a tree, eyes wide in horror, she watched as the two men seeking her caught up and rushed down the incline towards her. One gripped her hair, forcing the squeal from her, before slamming her back into the oak and tossing her to the floor like she was trash. She trembled, barely able to think, her body aching, head throbbing in pain, unable to defend herself as a heavy boot kicked into her stomach. She let loose a cry of pain as they continued beating her, enjoying her suffering as they did. "Little bitch! Fucking think you can get away from us!? Well, fuck you, you little hybrid slut!" A final kick pushed a little too deep, hit the wrong place, dug into the wrong muscle, and forced her to retch, bile spat onto the floor beneath her, sobs of anguish barely able to be pulled from her body. A knife was drawn as she was kicked onto her back, mud caking her clothes and skin, a quick slash drawn across her arm and forcing another scream from her. If they had intend to kill her before, then they'd changed their mind now. Having a play thing, a young non-human to abuse and then discard, was always more interesting to the rotten parts of humanity.

"That's right, you little cunt, I wanna know it hurts. Fucking teach your kind not to mess with us!" Another slash down her arm this time, then across her thigh, then her stomach. They were light, non-fatal, but painful to someone so innocent. Then came a punch, clean to the jaw, then the ribs, the stomach, the jaw again... Her body was growing numb from it all, unable to even tell if she was crying any more, too focused on the torture she was enduring.

But then the other one drew close, pinning her arms down as the other loomed.

Then she truly panicked.

She didn't know what they were planning but she knew it'd never be good. She screamed, thrashed, struggling and kicking, no longer fearing the knife she'd been hurt by, desperate to escape. Her foot connected with something and launched against it, punting a bandit in the ribs and earning a grunt of pain the process... Then a punch to the face, nose bloodied, breathing harder with the crimson blocking her nostrils now. "Fucking bitch! You try that again and I'm-" She did it again, hitting him in the jaw this time, forcing him off her. This spurred her on, like an adrenaline rush, head darting up to crack the bandit knelt above her in the crotch. Needless to say, that act had been pretty effective... She threw herself to her feet, uncaring as her hands clawed at vomit soaked dirt, wobbling, limping, barely able to move but unwilling to go down without a fight. She didn't have much but she had enough spirit left in her to keep moving, to keep resisting. It was all she had left now. The urge to survive. Determination to struggle. So much so that she had completely forgotten, amidst torture and scarring mental images of sexual violation, that they had guns... The first shot got her in the shoulder, but she shuffled on. The second, blowing through the muscle of her thigh, was what brought her down. Hitting the floor unwillingly for what was the third time tonight, she rolled onto her back and kicked away across the filth she lay in. She didn't care if her wounds got infected, didn't care how much it hurt, she just had to get away. But she could see the two men growing closer, both furious, both no longer willing to put up with her. "I'm sick of your games, slut! Could've let you live if you just played along but guess you wanted to die instead!" He rushed her, gun aimed all the while, but got a faceful of dirt for doing so. It wasn't much, but she refused to just give up. But then he kicked the bullet wound in her thigh, pain screaming through her body as she cried out herself, before slamming his boot into his chest, pinning her, preventing her escape. Hands gripped at his leg, feebly trying to yank it away from her, trying to break free, but it was no use. The man glared down at her with a twisted smirk on his lips. "Gonna make sure you rot with those rat fucking parents of yours! Gonna piss all over your corpse, maybe take those fucking ears of your's as a trophy!" She stared up at him, struggling, eyes shut, unwilling to let this be the end, resisting her fate, but unable to fight him off of her. She couldn't cry anymore, but she screamed, nails clawing at his trouser leg, grunting and flailing as both bandits watched with amusement.

The hammer was cocked.

Her end was coming.

The trigger was pulled.

The shot was fired.

Yet...

She didn't feel dead.

In fact, she didn't feel anything beyond the pain she was already in. No boot on her chest, no steady foot pushing down on her, no evil eyes staring at her pain with glee. Nothing.

So she dared to open her eyes.

And saw a pale man, with arms of an Ursa, holding both halves of a bi-sected bandit.

Her eyes darted between the three men: One to the stranger, who was calm as can be while coated in blood, one to her would-be executioner, horrified as his organs pooled by her feet, and one to his fellow scumbag, who seemed to be missing most both arms and a throat... She quivered, frozen to the spot, unable to process what she was witnessing, as the stranger dumped the corpse he held onto the floor as if it was nothing to him. He slowly straightened up, the blackness of his arms fading till they were human, wiping down the beaten rags of his ashen pants, jet black hair that had been haphazardly cut if not torn short, a silver revolver resting in their rear, scarred pale chest still drenched in red. She pushed herself back slowly, trying to sneak away, but he snapped around, milky white eyes locking onto her, pupils as pale as his skin. Streaks burden his cheeks, telltale lines betraying the hours he'd been crying before now. He took a step towards her, forcing a squeak of terror from her as she curled in on herself, before kneeling besides her. A clawed hand slowly extended to lay upon her shoulder as he sniffed, blind eyes darting over her all the while. She dared to look back at him and he returned to 'looking' directly into her eyes. "...What's your name?" His voice was soft, but clearly sore, wavering, calming, almost heartbreaking in tone. She stared in silence, not knowing if she could trust him, watching him as he casually waltzed over to his more intact victim and ripping the cleanest parts of his shirt from him. Returning, claws tearing at the fabric, he bowed towards her. She flinched but he didn't stop, gently wrapping the cloth rags around her thigh and shoulder, bandaging the more severe wounds before applying lighter dressings to her cuts. When he ran out of rags, he'd simply try find more from both the bodies, intent on patching her up. "It's okay, you know, if you don't want to tell me. My name..." He paused, seeming to think for a moment, before continuing. "My name is Grimm. I had another name but... Well, I'm not that person anymore..." More rags, more bandaging, the stranger treating her gently despite the monstrous appearance he'd first shown. Hands ran across his scalp, fingers looking for something but seemingly finding nothing, before he sniffed again. He'd look at the girl, sniff, then look at the two men he'd slaughtered, doing the same thing, tensing up as he clearly smelt something he didn't like. "They didn't... Do... Anything... Right? Beyond hurting you, I mean?" She shook her head, Grimm visible relieved the moment she did. It was nice, oddly, having a stranger care so much about her. Seeing someone care, even if others wanted to harm her.

"My... My name is Spera. I... T-Thank you... For saving me." The pale boy practically lit up to this, a weak smile on his lips as the words slipped from her. Offering her a hand, she cautiously took it, as if expecting it to turn into a Ursine claw again, slowly attempting to stand. She failed, naturally, calling out in pain but falling into his arms. "Hey hey hey hey, easy there! Trust me, after the shit you look like you've been through, you can't put pressure the wrong parts. Here..." Flinching, though unable to resist, Spera allowed the stranger to gently lift her from the dirt below, cradled to his chest. It was awkward, to say the least, but better than trying to use her own battered body to walk. "I'm hoping you heal fast but I'll need to treat your wounds properly later. Anti-septic and stitches are a must, so I won't promise you'll like it." Wincing to the mention of having her injuries sew together, Spera attempted to curl up on herself. The realization of what had occurred finally had the time to sink in, her body too exhausted to produce tears anymore but her breath hitching in her throat. Her ghostly savior noticed, brow raised, clearly worried. "Are you... Oh. Oh. I'm sorry, I was going to ask but..." Chin resting on her scalp, pulling her firmly to his cold body, Grimm embraced the girl as he recalled his own reaction upon hearing of his mother's demise. Sobbing and gasping, in pain but too grief stricken to stop, Spera shuddered in his hold as her body was devoured by sorrow. To his merit, Grimm stood there, silent, holding her with no intent of leaving her to suffer alone. Bowing his head, lips next to her ear, he whispered. "If you're willing... Tell me where they are... And we'll give them a proper burial. Honor them properly." She glanced up, eyes filled with anguish, and seemed to contemplate the idea. While she didn't want to look at her parents bodies, didn't want it to become real, she felt inclined to give them their last rites. Pointing over to where she'd fallen from, she mumbled "I... I-I think they're over there..." before curling up on herself once more like a child seeking comfort after a nightmare. Nodding, accepting her choice, Grimm began to walk carefully up the slope with Spera in his arms, holding her close as he did. He'd bury them, he promised to, even if she didn't want to look. She didn't need to be traumatized any more than she already was. And, afterwards, he'd need to find somewhere to get her treated. Maybe not by other people, he had no trust towards other humans, but at least somewhere to get supplies... Or steal them. Though, as dawn approached, he swore he'd keep her alive. She needed someone, someone who was emotionally and physically strong, until she could stand alone against the world. Sure, he wasn't perfect, but he wanted to try. That was enough for the time. And as he wandered, he found himself drifting off into his own thoughts. Thoughts about the past, the future, and even right now...

I won't forget what happened here. Nobody can forget something like that. So... I need to accept it. My parents, my adoptive ones, they loved me. I know that. Always known that. And maybe, before all of this, before I was born, my real father did too. I've always been loved at some point in my life, but the love of those I've lost is cold comfort with the hell I endured... But this girl, this little panda, could be a new start for me. I have something to focus on, someone to protect, to care for. Without her, I'm directionless. And I can't afford to be left with my thoughts. All of this chaos, all of this pain, I doubt I'll ever truly get over. I'll never find moments rest and, fuck knows, I deserve no love. There's no heroes in the end of this story who rises above evil. In the end, whatever good has fallen, a shining light sunk into darkness, victory to the very incarnation of hate, misery and pain spread out to all involved. But now it's over... And I feel like my fall is finally over. Like I've hit bottom but somehow survived. Somehow been gifted a second chance. And that's all I want out of life right now, a new life, a chance to try and make my existance more than just violence towards others.

I don't deserve it. I'll never deserve it. Respect, love, trust, nobody should praise me with such luxeries. But I want to try be a good man. Hopefully... She'll help me find my way to being someone worth caring about...

Pulling the faunus girl tighter to his chest, happy to feel warmth against his broken heart, Grimm walked into the forest to hunt down closure for the girl.

And when he could feel her sorrow forming again, he distracted her the best way he could...

"Hey, Spera... Do you wanna hear a fairytale..?"

I don't know where we should go,
just feeling farther from our home.
I don't know what paths we will be shown,
But I know that when I'm with you I'm at home.
Yes, I know that when I'm with you I'm at home.

Thank you for reading.