Chapter 28

Pyrrha bolted upright in bed with a gasp, ready to lunge at the nearest foe. She realized a moment later that the only enemy she would be facing were the boxes of sewing supplies stacked around her. Several stacks were neatly arranged around the small, twin sized, bed she slept on, and a simple sewing bench rested against the wall. The air was calm and cool against her skin, and Pyrrha slumped forward into a relaxed position.

She must've fallen asleep after they left the hospital; the last thing she remembered was asking about the safe house before exhaustion had finally overcome her. Years of endurance training had given her a level of stamina few could match, but even Pyrrha had her limits, and last night had pushed them to the edge . This had to be the place Harry had planned on taking them to, though.

Admittedly, this was not what she expected when she thought of the words 'safe house'. Walls of stone and steel were her immediate thoughts, not drywall and sewing supplies. Obviously, there had to be some magic at work.

Pyrrha slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed and groaned. She wasn't hurt, her skin had long since returned to its normal creamy color, but her body had the kind of ache she would have felt after a very long sleep. How long had she been out?

A quick glance around revealed an analog clock on the sewing table that read a quarter to twelve. Pyrrha stood up and frowned at her protesting muscles. Dawn had just begun to rise when they left the hospital, which meant that she must have been asleep for at least six or seven hours without moving at all. Hopefully she hadn't missed much in the intervening time.

That was when the note caught her eye, a slip of paper on the sewing desk next to a fresh set of neatly folded clothes. She picked it up and read:

'Pyrrha,

I had to go back to what's left of the apartment to find Bonnie and a few important magical items. Don't worry, the Carpenters are Good People, Michael is the man in charge of the house and his wife Charity is coming with me. Please, Stay Put. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Until then, stay in that house. You're safe from anything supernatural there, anything that isn't, I imagine you can handle.

Harry

P.S. Charity left some new clothes for you on the desk, your armor won't last past noon.

Pyrrha put the note down and frowned again. She didn't like the idea of Harry leaving without her, but going out for a fight wasn't something Pyrrha had been up for. Plus the idea of poor Bonnie being trapped in the rubble all alone with no idea if they were alive or not was heartbreaking. Harry had his reasons, and frustrating as they were, Pyrrha had to accept them. This time, anyway.

Instead of fussing at overbearing wizards, she gathered up the fresh clothes and reluctantly removed her old armor that the Leanansidhe had gifted her with. It had served her well in its brief time, but it was always a temporary arrangement. In addition to that, her time in the Nevermore's stomach had left all of it rather… sticky and smelling acrid. A shower was definitely in order, to say the least, but only after she found the owner of the house, Mr. Carpenter. It was one thing for Harry to leave her with his friends, but common courtesy demanded that she at least present herself to him.

Charity had left Pyrrha with a plain white T-shirt and jeans, and while they were a little loose, they were clean and that was good enough. No new shoes for the moment, but she had a feeling that was an easily rectifiable situation. Even if it wasn't immediately solvable, she should have been used to being barefoot. She thought ruefully to herself that it certainly happened to her often enough since her arrival in Chicago.

Once she was appropriately dressed, Pyrrha eased open the door and emerged into a long hallway. Her guest room was situated near the back of the hall. Rows of doorways lined both walls and stopped just short of the stairway opposite her end. Pyrrha silently padded out and shut the door behind her.

The first thing she noticed as she walked were the photographs that decorated the walls, of various members of what had to be the Carpenter family. She stopped to look at one, and smiled faintly. Over half a dozen children, four girls that took after their fair haired mother and three boys that took after the dark brown hair of their father, were gathered in front of their parents for a family get together of some kind. The oldest had multicolored hair and a look of distinct displeasure on her face. It was almost as if she wanted to be anywhere but there, and there was something almost familiar about her…

Voices cut off Pyrrha's train of thought, a commotion of garbled yells and cries of laughter that only an abundance of children could create. The happy chaos had to be the Carpenter family. Pyrrha continued down the hall, forgetting about the picture, and descended the steps and emerged on to the first floor, and by extension, the living room. A large couch was laid out in front of a flat-screen television hung over a fireplace, and two single seat chairs were placed on either side of it. A large, hand crafted, wooden table lay between them, nicked and worn from years of abuse, yet still standing strong. There was a homey feel to the room, a lived in quality that made Pyrrha relax, if only slightly.

The voices came from her left and Pyrrha turned in that direction, right as one of them called out, "Incoming!"

That was when a colossal wall of fur seemed to appear from nowhere, barreling down the hall and into Pyrrha's legs at a frightening speed. One moment she was standing and the next the floor was rapidly rising to meet her face. A last second reaction stopped her from face planting on the carpet, and she was quickly back up on her feet, arms raised in a fighting position.

The hairy wall returned and slammed into Pyrrha again, pinning her to the floor under its mass and knocking all the air from her lungs. She gasped and struggled in vain to push off her attacker, when the unexpected happened.

It began to bathe her with its gigantic pink tongue. Pyrrha sputtered, blinked, and finally got a look at her 'attacker' between licks. It was not a Grimm as she suspected, or some other form of supernatural nasty. No, it was a gigantic dog, larger than any she had ever seen, easily as long as she was tall and covered in thick shaggy grey fur. The giant of a dog stopped licking Pyrrha once to observe her with its big brown eyes.

Then it went back to her makeshift bath.

"Bah!" she laughed and placed her palm under the dog's chin and gently pushed it away, "Okay, okay! Good dog, good dog!"

The ground began to shake at that and she realized it was the dog's tail. Pyrrha pushed a little more firmly, and the dog got the message and got off her. She sat up and glanced down at her white shirt… which was now a nice shade of grey. There was no amusement in the look she gave the dog. It gave her a doggy grin and sat on its haunches next to her.

"Stinker." Pyrrha scolded, playfully, and got up while brushing the thick mat of fur off her chest. It took her several tries, during which the dog continued to grin with his tongue lolled out to the side. She wasn't entirely certain that he wasn't laughing at her.

Pyrrha heard several sets of feet come pounding down the hall and turned towards them. There were five of them total, the oldest, about Pyrrha's age, was a tall and lean girl with dark hair, black rimmed glasses and serious air about her. Next was another girl at fifteen or sixteen years old with a body that was more 'developed' than her older sister with curly blonde hair and dressed in a bright pink shirt and green skirt. Third was yet another girl, thirteen or fourteen who looked nearly identical to her older sister but dressed in less eye searing colors. Fourth was the only boy of the five, a tall, lanky young man just hitting his growth spurt; he had thick brown hair and brown eyes and a young face. And finally, the smallest and youngest of the five was a little girl as small as the dog was large, with slender facial features, big eyes, and pale skin. She couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old at the most, and was currently hiding behind the leg of the boy, watching Pyrrha with curious big eyes.

The dog brushed past Pyrrha's leg and trotted over to the kids, specifically the little girl, and sat back down. She immediately wrapped her arms around its neck, and never took her eyes off Pyrrha. She suddenly felt very awkward.

"Hello," she greeted them and extended a hand, "You must be the Carpenters. I'm Pyrrha Nikos."

The oldest girl clasped Pyrrha's hand and shook it, offering a friendly smile, "Alicia Carpenter, and this is Amanda, Hope, Harry, and Maggie. The big furball is Mouse, but I think you two already met."

Pyrrha glanced at Mouse, then at her freshly fuzzed shirt. The dog's mouth fell open in a seemingly innocent big doggy grin.

"Yes, you could say that." Pyrrha muttered, and smiled again. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you all, but I was hoping I could talk with your father. Is Mr. Carpenter home?"

"Please, call me Michael." Everyone looked down the hall where a tall well built man had appeared, supporting himself with a wooden cane. He had a strong face, dark greying hair and brilliant blue eyes that reminded Pyrrha all too much of Jaune's. A tight pressure settled on her chest and throat as Michael approached.

The kids, and Mouse, parted for him, and Michael smiled his thanks, "I had my suspicions that our guest might have awoken when the house went quiet. The house is never quiet, especially on a rainy day." he came to a stop in front of Pyrrha and offered his hand.

Pyrrha swallowed past the pressure in her throat and took it. His grip was strong, and comforting. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I was just… confused."

Michael raised a brow, "Did Harry forget to leave his note?"

"I was supposed to leave a note?" Harry asked, grinning.

His sister Hope elbowed him in the side, "He's talking about Bill, not you."

"I know that, it's called sarcasm!"

Michael sent the two a glance and they stopped. He smiled, and said, "Alicia, take your siblings and Maggie to the kitchen, lunch is ready."

The eldest nodded, "Right, come on jawas, let's move!"

They moved, though not without complaints. "A former jawa can't call us jawas," Hope complained.

"I'm oldest now, therefore, I have the right, Hobbit." Alicia countered as they vanished down the hall.

Michael wore a grin as he shook his head, and then looked at Pyrrha. "So, Miss Nikos, how are you feeling?"

She blinked, "How am I feeling?"

"Your ears seem to be working," Michael said, still grinning. "So yes. How do you feel? The clothes my wife lent you seem to fit well, but from what Harry told me, the past few days have not been kind to you."

Pyrrha pulled a clump of grey dog hair off her chest and frowned, "They've been… exciting, to say the least. Everything I thought I knew has been turned on its head and I still don't know everything I should."

"Ah yes, the Black Magic. Harry mentioned that. I've only seen its effects once or twice before. You are very lucky that you can still function as well as you do."

Half a dozen emotional breakdowns, a short temper, and recklessly charging off on her own on several occasions suggested otherwise to Pyrrha. She didn't say that aloud though, merely grunting, "So I've been told."

She glanced at Michaels cane in hand and added, "Mr. Ca- Michael, would you prefer we sit down? I know leg injuries can be taxing under the best conditions."

Michael's smile returned, "I take it you have experience with them?"

"My mother's career ended because of one. She's recovered now, but it was an exhausting time."

The big man glanced at his legs, "True. But I do enough sitting as is, I would prefer to stand for now, and have a proper answer to my question."

Intentional or not, Pyrrha was avoiding every question he asked. Granted, she didn't have much reason to share with him, but simply telling him that would be preferable to her dancing around the issue.

Pyrrha sighed, "I'm tired, sore, and my nerves are stretched thin. My home is far, far away, and I may never be able to return. One of my only friends in this world is in the hospital thanks to my recklessness and the other abandoned me here, and on top of all of that, my mind was violated in the most intimate ways imaginable and merely thinking about those events-"

A brief bolt of lightning struck her skull and she winced, "-is a painful experience. I feel terrible, Mr. Carpenter, and I don't know if I'll ever get over it. That's how I feel right now."

It surprised her just how bitter the words were as they left her mouth. Part of it had to be a result of stress, but the truth still rang behind them. Pyrrha was lost and didn't know what to do with herself, and events had shown that she was not prepared to deal with it.

Michael rubbed at his chin, "I see. What makes you think Harry abandoned you here?"

She thought briefly back to when Harry snapped and got angry at her, the frustration (albeit, justified frustration) with her actions and what happened to Murphy. And that was just from a few hours ago, not getting into the encounter with Torchwick and what happened afterwards, or her temporary stone silence after having even a sliver of her missing memories returned to her.

"I've made quite a few mistakes the past few days." Pyrrha said. "He probably sees me more as a liability to him and the others. I don't blame him."

Michael nodded again, making a 'hmm' sound. "Interesting. Now we can take a seat, Pyrrha."

She looked at him confused for a moment, while Michael took a seat in one of the side chairs, letting out a relieved sigh as he did. He glanced at her and motioned to the couch. Pyrrha took a seat, with the confusion still plain on her face.

After a moment settling down, Michael leaned forward with both hands on his cane, and asked, "How old are you, Pyrrha? Nineteen, twenty?"

She blinked, "Seventeen, actually."

"Huh, really? I wouldn't have guessed." Michael waved a hand through the air, "Regardless, you say you're seventeen, yes? And from what Harry told me, you are still in school, a sort of military academy?"

"It's more complicated than that, but technically yes."

He nodded, "Have you ever operated outside of the classroom Pyrrha, outside your controlled environments, especially for a long period of time?"

Pyrrha thought back to her first day at Beacon and said, "Outside of one or two events? Not really."

"I see." Michael said. "Harry also mentioned you possessed abilities the average person doesn't, much like his magic. Do any of these abilities allow you to see or manipulate the future?"

"Um, no." Pyrrha frowned. It was an odd series of questions, but a small part of her realized that Michael was getting more answers out of them than she believed.

She folded her hands in her lap and said, "Mr. Carpenter, what are you trying to determine here?"

"I'm not determining anything." Michael said. "But past experience has shown me that the best way to help someone, is to simply ask questions. What do you think I'm determining?"

Still frowning, Pyrrha mulled over the questions, and thought on them in relation to what she'd told Michael. It didn't take long for the gears to click into place and for the shining truth to reveal itself to her.

"You're saying that because of my inexperience in real world situations, and my own limited senses, that my actions aren't… entirely my fault?"

Michael smiled, faintly, "Close. You are, like every human who has ever lived, limited to your own personal view, Pyrrha. The actions and words you speak will always be yours, shaped by your personal experience and context of the situation at hand. Now, take that into account and apply it to Harry."

She felt a little skeptical at his words, but Pyrrha did as Michael commanded and thought on what she knew about Harry. On the outside, he was a strong willed man, quiet with a dry sense of humor and the potential to become a force of nature when he could unleash his power. But there was more to him than that, more that Pyrrha had seen when she first met him and looked into those tired brown eyes of his. The Soulgaze had shown what nothing else could, that above all else, Harry valued the safety and protection of Chicago and the people who lived in it. He would fight and die to protect others, no matter the personal cost to himself, he was in essence, a guardian of the weak, and over the past few days he'd learned that his entire city was at risk.

And like that, the pieces came together.

"He left to protect me, to give me a chance to… to rest and heal." Pyrrha said. "Harry knows better than anyone that I'm… not myself right now; but he couldn't wait for me to recover either. That's why he left, so he could keep working on the case, while giving me time to recover."

Michael smiled, "Speaking from personal experience, Pyrrha, every warrior, no matter how strong or mighty, needs to take time to rest. Harry knows this too, and though it's taken him a long, long time to figure it out, he's actually begun to indulge in it."

He glanced down the hall where his kids were, "Because as you fight longer and you fight harder, you realize that the next mission could be your last."

He looked back at her with a sad smile, "Don't spend every second worrying about the next threat or the next mission. Learn to relax when the time comes, otherwise you'll never know what you might miss."

Michaels words rang true as Pyrrha thought back to Jaune, to the time wasted trying to get close to him, to show that she was interested in more than just friendship. Now she was stuck somewhere else, and while Jaune knew she was alive, Pyrrha had no idea when she would return to him, if ever.

She bowed her head and said, "But I can't just waste time either, Mr. Carpenter. There's a danger out there that no one understands as well as I do, I should be out there with Harry, helping."

"You were barely coherent when Harry brought you here," Michael replied. "We tried to stir you, but you were beyond exhausted. Had you actually summoned the strength to go with him, you would have been a liability."

Pyrrha ducked her head lower, feeling the shame return. Michael sighed and gently clasped her shoulder in his big hand, "All he's doing is retrieving lost gear from his apartment Pyrrha. He should return any time now. If you left now, you'd have no idea where he might be."

True, Pyrrha knew nothing about Chicago's streets.

"Besides," Michael added, "I can't imagine you'd want to go running about with an empty stomach either."

As if waiting for the cue, Pyrrha's stomach let forth a monstrous growl that nearly shook the house to its foundations, and sent vibrations through the couch. When it stopped, the house was dead silent.

"Dad!? What was that!?"

A/N: Short chapter, I apologize. Not only was this a difficult chapter to write in general, but I had to deal with holidays and a holiday cold that kicked my ass. Awkward part is past though, and we have one more fluff chapter, before the plot will rear its ugly head.

Expect rewrites in the future, and don't forget to review and let me know what you thought!