The Fall of Professor Arc
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Disclaimer and Dedication:
Dedicated to Coeur. Thanks for the stories, and the countless ideas. You've only yourself to blame, you know!
Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY. 'Professor Arc' in particular is the brainchild of Coeur. If you haven't read it already... why are you here?
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"Amnesia?"
"Amnesia," Kitsune-chan- no, Tsune- affirmed. "His semblance may have saved his life, but he still suffered a severe impact. Mixed with the various properties of the dust that exploded…" she shrugged. "He's lucky he only lost a few years of his life, rather than all of it."
"Jaune…" Glynda- not Miss Glynda, or Goodwitch, but just Glynda- whispered in sympathy, giving a reassuring hand. He didn't have the heart to say that it was anything but soothing at the moment- even if he had bigger concerns as he tried to grasp the situation.
"We were all lucky," Professor Ozpin said evenly, maturely sipping a mug of coffee. "We could all have lost a good friend and colleague in the line of duty. We should all be thankful we did not." He raised his mug to hide his face. "Shame he forgot about the twenty lien he owed me," he muttered.
"Did I?" Jaune asked, grabbing the wallet they had returned to him to show him his own ID. "Here, let me fix that now," he said, reaching in to grab an appropriate bill.
Professor Ozpin eagerly reached out to accept it, even as half the room shifted in their seats and opened their mouths, but a swift swing of a riding crop and a stern glare made all the men flinch.
"Never mind," Ozpin demurred. "You can keep it," he magnanimously said. "You have bigger concerns."
Least of which were the gaggle of girls still trying to eavesdrop. With an irate expression, Glynda waved Tsune off to go and shoo the girls of Team RWBY away.
"Never fear, lad," the portly Peter Port proclaimed as he pounded Jaune on the back. "We'll run down the rapscallions who did this in no time!"
Jaune smiled nervously at these… peers? Friends? Very Important People, to be sure- and from what he'd gathered, real, experienced Hunters. And he'd called these people colleagues?
"Um, excuse me," he began nervously, unsure if he had the right to speak in such august company, but no one stopped him. "How many years have I… lost?" he asked. "What year is it?"
"It's-" Doctor Oobleck began, but Tsune quickly shoved a hand in his face to pre-emptively stop him.
"Don't," Tsune said. "It's better to let him try to remember on his own." She turned to Jaune. "How old do you think you are? Try to remember- but let me know if it hurts," she said with an eager smile. "Especially if it hurts," she said, with an even broader smile and wag of the tail. Such a nice doctor, concerned about his comfort like that.
Jaune tried to remember. "I just turned sixteen," he recalled. "My family gave me Crocea Mors for my birthday"- because Mom had probably forgot to get a real gift this year, but didn't want to admit it- "and I'm looking into applying to a combat academy." And hoping really, really hard they'd let him in with barely any- alright, no- skill to his name.
Port and Oobleck huddled together and whispered as he recounted.
"Sixteen?" Port silently counted to four on his fingers.
"That would have been before…" whispered Oobleck in awe.
"Tell me, Mr. Arc," Professor Ozpin said as he ignored the other two professors. "What school would you like to get into the most?"
"Beacon," Jaune said instantly and honestly. "I want to be hero, and I want- wanted?- to learn from the best teachers," he reasoned.
Glynda stirred. "Jaune," she said. "You never applied-" she began, but Ozpin raised a hand to cut her off.
"Now tell me this, Mr. Arc," Ozpin said, gazing at him with a steely gaze as hard as… steel? Metaphors were hard at the moment. Ozpin could be intimidating, and Jaune doubted the man ever stopped being serious and calculating. "What school do you think you would actually apply to?"
Any that would accept me.
"Probably not Beacon," Jaune admitted after giving it a bit of thought. Beacon was elite, exclusive- a fraud would stand out there like a sore thumb. Somewhere less ambitious would be more realistic- and less likely to look too hard at any faked transcripts. "Isn't there a good place in Vacuo?" he tried to recall the school he'd only briefly heard about and dismissed for some long-forgotten reason. "Vacuo Academy for… Special Children? Special Needs?" Embarrassing, yes, but training was training…
"The Vacuo Academy for Gifted Youth," Ozpin supplied, and sat back and watched.
The Vacuo Academy for Gifted Youth.
That name… meant something. Was familiar somehow. Was important somehow- but also trapped behind the impenetrable thing, the barrier in his head that he was realizing was his period of amnesia.
"Vacuo, Vacuo, Vacuo," Jaune repeated as he tried to reach in and grasp its significance. "Vacuo- that- agh!" he recoiled in a shock of mental pain as he tried to push into the deadspace of the years he didn't remember. "It was- it was- agh!" he cried again, louder.
"Jaune!" that was Glynda- at his side and shaking him. "Stop! You don't have to remember! Stop trying to remember!"
Jaune did as the pretty woman said, and the pain subsided as she held him close. He wasn't unaware of her proximity and his advantageous sight line, but his head really did hurt. "What happened at Vacuo?" he wanted, needed, to know.
"It was destroyed," Ozpin said simply. "Overrun by Grimm."
"Ozpin!" Glynda protested, turning her anger towards him.
But Ozpin's words had no effect on Jaune when he wasn't trying to recall. No flashbacks, no spasms of pain- just water rolling over rocks. "Was I there?" Jaune asked, a curious feeling of separation as he put together the dots.
"You were," Ozpin affirmed. "You had the best, and cruelest, teacher of all- experience."
"I don't remember," Jaune said honestly.
"That may be for the best," Ozpin admitted sadly. "Some things don't need to be remembered."
There was a period of silence as Jaune dwelled on it. It just… it didn't feel real. He couldn't believe it had happened- not to him. An entire education- disappeared. Gone. What was he supposed to do now?
"So… what happens to me now?" Jaune asked, wondering. "I mean, I still want to become a Huntsman. To be a Hero." For his family, for himself, and probably other people he'd forgotten about too.
It wasn't right! It wasn't fair! Somehow he- he!- had managed to not only get into a combat school, but do well! He had not only survived but succeeded! Been a Huntsman in all but name! A dream, within his grasp, stolen away! How unfair was Remnant?
His disposition was noticed by the others. A big, heavy hand pounded him on the back.
"Cheer up, lad!" Peter encouraged. "You've already done it once, so what's another go around? Just knowing you've already succeeded means everything else is achievable!"
"Peter is right," Oobleck joined in. "Even if you don't remember it, you have already set an excellent example as an instructor. You can do so again," he was sure.
"I- we will teach you what you need to know, Jaune," Glynda assured. "Properly, this time. You'll be teaching alongside us before you know it."
"But how can I?" Jaune asked. "How good of a teacher could I possibly be after forgetting everything I knew?"
"I, for one, believe that some things can never be taught- and never be forgotten," Ozpin declared. "When you came to us, you told me you had no experience in teaching- but you none the less did an admirable job even so. I believe you can again in time, once you have your feet under you," Ozpin said. "When you have made up for lost time, we would be more than happy to count you amongst us once again," he promised.
"Will I be able to make it until then?" Jaune wondered. "I mean, support myself without a job?"
Ozpin blinked, as that hadn't occurred to him. "That is a good question," he admitted. "I'm honestly not too clear on our health insurance policies-"
"It will suffice," Glynda said simply.
"Will it?" Ozpin asked. "As I recall, there were all sorts of restrictions and stipulations that applied-"
"It will suffice," Glynda stressed ominously, flexing her crop by bending it almost in half.
"-but fortunately we have a very flexible health insurance policy, a great deal of autonomy in our school, and I am sure Glynda will ensure there are no problems," Ozpin finished hastily.
"Thank you, Glynda," Jaune said sincerely- still weirded out at addressing a woman so much his senior by her first name, but grateful none the less. She, he could already tell, was and would be a lifesaver.
"Of course," Glynda said modestly. "Our policies are meant for those who suffer in the line of duty, and I am sure no one would argue that you were not." Not twice, at least. Not in her hearing.
"Thank you," Jaune repeated, and noted a bit of red in her cheeks even as she made a pleased expression. So flattery- or at least simple gratitude- worked? Good to know. With that…
"If it's not too much ask… could I ask something else of you, Glynda?" Jaune began, trying to hit that right balance between familiar and formal.
"Certainly, Jaune," Glynda asked. "Anything."
"Can I count on you to make me a man again?" Jaune asked.
There was a sudden silence, and possibly a pin drop.
"A Huntsman, I mean?" he clarified, but a moment too late before the room reputed into chaos.
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