A/N: Merry Early Christmas! There was a lot more that I wanted to write but... I think ending this chapter the way I did should be fine. Insert Plot and Evil Laughter
Guest: Well, seeing as how he hasn't had his aura activated yet...
SirOswaldMosley: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it. Pain is fun. Yes. Very fun. XD
Guest 2: Thanks!
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"—and then Cardin shows up out of nowhere and cuts the Ursa's head clean off!"
Professor Goodwitch turned her gaze to the two teams walking towards her, talking and laughing amongst each other as they did so.
"Wow, that's actually pretty impressive." Yang said, before hesitating. "She's, uh, telling the truth right, Ren?" The pink-eyed boy nodded, smiling.
"For once, she is telling the truth."
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Nora whined, tugging at the boy's arm. They all laughed as they strolled along, until Weiss spotted the professor, greeting her politely. The blonde-haired professor nodded back, giving a tiny smile to the eight of them.
"Hello everyone. Going out for the evening?" The professor asked, falling side-by-side with them. She knew where they were going, as it wasn't often that you would see Huntresses wander into this part of the city unless it was for one thing: drinking.
And there was only one bar suitable enough for Beacon students in Vale to suit everyone's tastes.
Yang grinned and nodded at the professor. There was a time recently where the students would balk away from the strict teacher, wilting from her menacing stares and agonizing lectures. Her reputation changed soon after she visited Jaune, many students spotting her laughing and smiling. They witnessing a side of her that they would have never seen if the Professor Goodwitch had never left Beacon.
The group made some more small talk, people splitting up into smaller groups to converse with, Weiss unafraid of talking to the professor and dragging Ruby into the conversation as well.
"—And I certainly think that a curriculum of the usage of Dust would very much benefit all the students there, even the ones that don't use it." Weiss finished, Professor Goodwitch nodding along with her. Ruby had put in some points as well, happy to talk about weapons with someone more knowledgeable then she.
"Well, I'll be sure to forward your suggestions to the Headmaster, Miss Schnee. I do believe it would be very helpful to the students to have some working knowledge of Dust. After all, you never know when you might need to defuse a Dust bomb or the like—" The professor stopped talking as the group rounded a corner and halted in their tracks, as if frozen. Glynda could see what had made them stop, but wasn't sure if she could actually believe it or not. Gently making her way to the front, she looked at the sign hanging from the doorway in front of Jaune's bar, bold red lettering declaring the bar closed. That couldn't have been right. The blonde woman checked the time on her scroll, making sure that they weren't too early, even though it was getting close to being nine at night on a weekday. The professor put her hand on the doorway and leaned on it slightly, expecting it to give way like it usually did, Jaune greeting them with a warm smile and hands ready to make drinks.
There was no smile, nor Jaune waiting for them, because the door didn't give way. It didn't even budge.
Professor Goodwitch stared at the immobile door, disbelief clear on her face.
"Y-you wouldn't know why the bar's closed, would you Professor?" Ruby's voice was quiet, the shaking almost imperceptible, but still there. To a woman like Glynda, who spent most of her life raising young Huntresses, spotting the fear and concern flowing through the kids behind her was almost tangible.
Professor Goodwitch let out a breath, composing herself into the teacher that every student in Beacon knew. The unyielding, solid woman that didn't fear anything came forth, replacing the woman that had been ready a few seconds ago to relax and enjoy some small talk with a boy she would almost consider a son.
"I'm sure there's a reason for this." Came the confident reply, her mind working as she tried to peer through the black curtains covering the windows, hoping to spot a silhouette.
"Maybe he's just taking a day off or something," Nora's optimistic reply came. It was quickly snuffed out by the quick fact that Jaune had never taken a day off, and some of them had seen him when he had gotten the worst flu known to man, dark circles ringing his eyes while he tried to fill out orders.
"Maybe we should go in and check to see if everything's alright?" Blake spoke up this time, looking at the professor as if to say that she was going to go in whether or not Professor Goodwitch approved of it. She could see the same expression on a few other faces, and sighed in resignation, although she had to admit that she wanted to bust down the doors as well. It didn't have to come to that, as the lock on the door clicked audibly, the door swinging open to reveal an old man, hunched over a cane and looking up at the blonde woman.
"Are you guys going to stand outside and make a ruckus all day or what?" The crotchety old man said, scowling at the group in front of him. Professor Goodwitch bowed slightly in apology.
"I'm sorry sir. We were just wondering why you were closed today."
The man sniffed loudly, waving a hand dismissively at the bar behind him. "Sent the boy home." He said grumpily. "Reeked of alcohol, and could barely walk in a straight line." Professor Goodwitch didn't react outwardly, except to widen her eyes a little at the information, dipping her head. On the inside however, she was furious at Jaune.
"Thank you for the information mister... ?"
The old man waved his hand again, shaking his head. "I'm no mister, lady." He paused for a second, looking closer at the woman. "Say. You're that lady from Beacon ain't you?" Glynda nodded politely, smiling. The man nodded, stroking his short beard. "Hm. The boy talked about you quite a bit if I remember. Say, you wouldn't mind... you wouldn't mind checking up on the boy for me, would you?" The man shrugged, hobbling back into the bar, gesturing for them to come in and have a seat. Rummaging around the bar, the man's head barely poked above the counter. "I'm afraid I just don't have the energy to get to his apartment anymore. Ah ha! There it is." The old man hobbled back to Glynda and handed her a piece of paper with an address messily scrawled on it.
The woman bowed again, thanking the man in front of her politely. Inspecting the sheet of paper, Glynda nodded, putting it into her pocket. The air behind her was filled with tension when she turned around, looking at the crowd sitting quietly, waiting for the professor to say something. She looked at each and every one of them before pushing up her glasses, telling them all to head back to Beacon.
The room erupted into chaos at the words, Yang and Nora standing up indignantly, ready to get into a shouting match. Many of the others weren't as loud or energetic with their objections, but definitely just as vocal. Ruby looked torn, wanting to join Yang and Nora but knowing that it would be unreasonable to do so. Even Weiss and Blake showed signs of dissatisfaction, frowning at the professor.
The blonde witch simply stood there, watching them calmly as they spoke out. Eventually the words died out under her steady gaze, the kids unsure of what else to say. Another second of silence passed, the teacher standing there, saying and doing nothing.
"Ruby, Pyrrha." She said, bringing the two girls to attention. "Please take your teams back to the Beacon dorms." There was no steel in her voice, no demand in the tone, but the simple authority Professor Goodwitch wielded was enough to make everyone in the room flinch. Ruby let out a shaky breath and stood up, fists opening and closing.
"Professor," Ruby started, expression polite, tone quiet. "Could we please accompany you? We're worried for our friend and would like to check up on him." Professor Goodwitch was still impressed by how quickly Ruby had grown, becoming a competent leader of Team RWBY. It definitely helped the team, and showed when everyone slowly quieted down, showing their support for Ruby. Nevertheless the professor shook her head, her expression softening a little.
"I'm sorry Miss Rose. But this isn't a request." Professor Goodwitch paused, before adding, "I promise that I will tell you how Jaune is doing."
The brunette looked uncertain, and certainly wanted to insist on joining the professor, but knew that arguing wouldn't achieve anything with the strict woman standing in front of her. Reluctantly, Ruby nodded. "You promise?" The professor nodded once. With a sigh, Ruby turned to her friends.
"Let's go guys." She said simply, something that didn't sit well with some of the others. Pyrrha in particular seemed to want to fight this, which was strange for the usually compliant girl, but in the end Ruby convinced them to wait the night out for the professor to return. If what Professor Goodwitch reported back wasn't to their satisfaction, they would go visit Jaune themselves, Professor Goodwitch even allowing for them to go. The witch knew that any attempts to stop them from leaving would end in failure anyways, so the next best option would be to approach the boy first.
With everything settled, the group of students slowly headed back to the Bullhead ports as Professor Goodwitch went in the opposite direction, thanking the old man once again before departing. The apartment was a distance away from the bar it seemed, and as the buildings grew more and more worn down as the professor wandered deeper and deeper into the city, the more worried she became.
After the first few chats with Jaune, the woman grew impatient at the pace the bartender was willing to give out his personal information. In a once in a lifetime stunt of breaking her strict moral system, the professor called in a few favors and investigated who Jaune really was.
She found a lot less than she wished for, but enough to paint a rough picture of mysterious boy. He had no living relatives, the last of them dying in a brutal Grimm attack about a year back. His last name was Arc, which didn't really tell her much, as the only person she could link that last name to was a hero of the old ages, the descendents fading out of history quickly after. Ozpin seemed to know a little more about it, but no amount of badgering would get him to tell her anything. The only thing the Headmaster seemed to respond with when Glynda asked him about the boy was a small smile, and a quick 'give it time' before he changed the subject.
She had to admit though, Jaune might have been cagey and hesitant about his past, the professor still learned a lot about him, and enjoyed his company. He was much more mature than most people his age, and certainly displayed it by handling irate customers smoothly and diffusing situations that had threatened to blow up in his bar. The advice he gave was... at times a little naive, but sound.
Above all else, Jaune was a good person.
But... there were times, Glynda thought, there were times when Jaune showed another side of him. He carried hurt and shielded it from the world, which was evident by how little he wanted to talk about himself. The more he tried to hide it, the more she wanted to help him, the avoidance sparking her maternal instinct towards the boy.
Professor Goodwitch's thoughts stopped as she arrived to the address that had been written down on the sheet of paper. If there was any adjective to describe the apartment complex she was looking at, old would be the first word that came to mind. Paint peeled off several places around the building, there was graffiti marking a side of the building, and some windows had simply been boarded shut after they had been broken in.
The scene did nothing to allay the coiling tension resting in the professor's stomach.
She headed inside, the doors creaking as she stepped in, heading up the stairwell to find apartment 424.
Arriving in front of the door, she hesitated, getting closer towards the frame of the door and straining her ears to try and listen, to see if there was anything she could make out.
Nothing.
She rapped her knuckled against the door three times, stepping back to wait for an answer. A minute passed by without a response, except a door opening to the right of her and a man stumbling out, laughing down the stairway. She tried again, waiting another minute before giving up on trying to enter the polite way, placing her hand on the doorknob instead. Convincing herself that she was doing this out of concern for the bartender, she used some aura manipulation to unlock the mechanisms behind the door and turned the knob, revealing the inside of Jaune's apartment.
Professor Goodwitch froze, trying to take in what she was seeing. Her breath seemed to stop, lodging itself in her throat as she stood there frozen.
"Dust." She cursed softly, stepping into the apartment.
There were bottles everywhere. On the table, on the chairs, the witch even saw one upside down in a flower vase. Some were half full, some were unopened, and many were completely empty. The whole place reeked of the alcohol, which was almost strong enough to make the woman's eyes water. Stooping over, she picked up a bottle, looking at the label. Whiskey. Looking at the other bottles, she saw a pattern. Sure there were different brands and types, but they were all the same kind. Whiskey.
Professor Goodwitch stepped carefully through the kitchen and into the living room, opening on the doors on the side of the room, revealing a bathroom that reeked of vomit. Scrunching her nose, the professor closed the door and moved on to the second door, pushing it open slowly.
It was a bedroom, with a small twin sized mattress on the floor, ragged blankets covering it. Tangled up in the sheets was a blonde-haired boy, breathing loudly as he slept with a half full bottle of whiskey in one of his hands.
The sight was pitiful, and made the blonde woman's heart tighten. She didn't want to see him like this. She didn't want Jaune like this at all. For the short time that she had gotten to know the boy, she'd grown to care for him, worried that for however stable he showed himself, he was torn apart on the inside.
She approached the bedside and shook his shoulder gently, trying to rouse him from his sleep. He didn't respond, simply tossing and turning at the gentle touch. The professor tried again, shaking a little harder, talking quietly in hopes it would help wake him up.
"Come on Jaune. Wake up. Please wake up..." The witch continued to repeat the phrase, waiting for some sort of response from him.
It took longer than expected, but Jaune blinked, his eyes squinting open, revealing emotions that he usually didn't show when he was completely awake. When he saw the blonde woman standing there next to him, Glynda could see happiness, love, yearning, and... and a little bit of hope.
"M-mom?" Came the quiet question, before Jaune's brain woke up a little more. Professor Goodwitch swallowed thickly, blinking rapidly as tears started to form in her eyes. She shook her head, even as she desperately wished that she could've nodded and wrapped her arms around the boy, telling him what he wanted to hear.
But that didn't happen, couldn't happen, because no matter how much she wished for it to be true, Professor Goodwitch wasn't Jaune's mother.
Jaune's mother was dead.
It only took the boy a little longer for his brain to catch up to his words, and he realized that the person kneeling next to him was not his mom, and that Professor Goodwitch had gone into his apartment, where there were dozens of bottles of alcohol strewn around.
"What're you doing here?" Jaune croaked, wincing at the headache that decided to put cleats on and stomp around on his head.
Hearing the question brought Professor Goodwitch back to reality, and she remembered why she had been so angry at him minutes before.
"Well, I decided to go and get a drink from your bar. It was quite a surprise for me and a few other people to see that your place was closed." The professor crossed her arms, a frown on her face. "Would you care to explain?"
"I felt a little under the weather." Jaune handed her one of the most blatant lies he had ever said, the two of them knowing that wasn't true. The woman played along, and instead of flying into a rage at the uninspired lie, she raised a calm eyebrow instead.
"Hm. That is strange, seeing as how we met your boss." Jaune winced. "And he said something about how he was the one who sent you home." Another wince. "Because you had smelled like you poured the drinks you make for a whole night all over yourself."
"The old man wouldn't say something like that." Jaune objected, pulling himself to a sitting position.
"No, but that's exactly what you smell like at this moment."
"I-" Jaune cut himself off, his expression angry. "Why're you here?" He repeated, hands clenched into tight fists. His tone set something off inside of Glynda, and she stood up, towering above the hungover Jaune.
"I am here because I was worried about you Jaune. And I was right to be."
"I'm fine." Jaune muttered, making the woman scoff and flick her fingers, causing the bottle Jaune had gripped onto earlier to fly through the air, smashing against a nearby wall.
"You're fine? This doesn't look like fine Jaune. I don't know what you think fine is, but it is not drowning yourself in alcohol, especially when you are underage!" Jaune scowled, but didn't move from his spot. Professor Goodwitch started to pace back and forth, lecture nowhere near over. She was a teacher after all. "Not to mention how illegal this is. And how much harm it can do to your body! Alcohol isn't something to take lightly Jaune."
Jaune's scowl didn't change, his expression fixed as he defiantly looked at the professor. The look served to calm Glynda down a little, and she changed her tone to something a little softer, something that would appeal to Jaune a little more.
"You know all of this Jaune. You're a bartender after all. This stuff... doesn't always give you the best ideas." She took in a breath. "I know that during this time and age you think you're invincible and nothing in the world can touch you, but—"
"But what?" Jaune interrupted, swinging his legs off of the mattress. The words stopped Professor Goodwitch from speaking, surprised that he would talk back to her. "Maybe I am invincible." The boy said, sneering at her. "It doesn't really matter to you does it?"
"It does." Came the forceful reply. "It matters very much to me Jaune. You are not invincible, no matter what you think, and what has happened in your life. I know you've had a bad past but—"
"No you don't." Jaune interrupted again, his expression stormy. "You don't understand. And even if you do, it's none of your business!"
"It can be, if you just talk to me Jaune." Glynda said, her tone pleading. "Please Jaune, I just want to understand—"
"You don't need to understand. You don't need to know anything about me, you don't need to care about me, and you are NOT MY MOM!" By the end he was on his feet, shouting at the woman in front of him, his eyes bloodshot and his lungs tight. Professor Goodwitch could see tears around his eyes as he breathed in and out heavily, the shouting exerting him.
"My mom is dead." Jaune whispered. "And nothing's going to fix that. Not your worry, not your apologizing, and not your understanding." Jaune's head fell, his knee along with it. He covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking. "She's gone, professor. They're all gone."
And then he cried.
In Beacon and in public, Professor Goodwitch was seen as a strict woman, someone who didn't deal with emotions, simply results and logic. Behind closed doors however, to the people who knew her the most, she was someone different.
The other professors, her friends, would argue that she's the most emotional out of every teacher in Beacon.
Professor Goodwitch didn't even hesitate when Jaune collapsed on the ground, kneeling down beside him and wrapping him into a tight embrace, pulling him as close as she possibly could to her. She didn't say anything, didn't do anything except rub his back, letting him sob into her shoulder until he stopped.
Time wasn't a factor during this, and when the two of them separated, they didn't know how much time had passed, whether it was a minute or an hour. Quite frankly, Professor Goodwitch didn't care.
They were silent for a while, Jaune huddled up and looking at the floor, and it was obvious that his thoughts weren't in the room right now. Glynda simply sat and looked at Jaune, her heart still reaching out for him.
"I know you think that there's nothing that can be done about your family."
The professor talking brought Jaune back into the room, his eyes slowly making their way towards hers.
"And you're right. Nothing we do is going to bring back the dead." Professor Goodwitch hesitated, knowing that it's been a long time since she's had a heart to heart like this with someone. "But what we can do is honor them." The professor reached out and grabbed Jaune's hand, making him jump a little. He relaxed soon afterwards, simply content to sit there and let the woman continue talking.
"I'm sure you think that no one can understand your pain. I get it, I- I thought the same way too, when I first lost someone." Her words brought Jaune's attention, and he couldn't help but ask.
"Who did you lose?"
The witch smiled sadly, remembering the people that she lost years ago. "My partner. He was my friend, practically my family, and... and something more." She confessed, shrugging. "There was an ambush. Something we didn't account the Grimm to do. There were too many and..." It was strange, how it happened so long ago, yet when she talked about it, it felt as if it was yesterday. The memories choked her, and she paused, trying to regain her footing.
"He held them back while you ran away?" Jaune asked quietly. The professor nodded, thankful that Jaune had given her enough time to recompose herself.
"Exactly that. He was... a hero. Someone who always believed in doing the right thing, and he loved... he loved the team. He had said multiple times that he would give his life up without a thought for us. I just never thought he would have to actually do it." Even with the amount of control that she had, she couldn't help but let a few tears go, the drops trailing down her cheek. She drew in a breath though, and continued talking.
"That was only the first of the many people I lost." She said. "Do you know how many students I teach every year at Beacon?" Jaune shook his head no. "Hundreds. Every year there are hundreds of students, kids even younger than you sometimes, that get into this school." Professor Goodwitch paused, letting Jaune imagine the number before asking, "Do you know how many die?"
Jaune didn't answer, his gaze uncertain when directed at her.
"Dozens." She answered her own question in a whisper.
"Every year, there are dozens of students who die from anything and everything. Grimm attacks, White Fang terrorists, protecting the innocent, accidents. If I had to name everyone who died that I had taught, we would be here all night." Jaune's expression turned empathetic. She continued to talk, trying not to think too deeply about it. "When I first started teaching at Beacon, it was horrifying. People died so much and every single one of them was my fault." Jaune wanted to say something, to comfort the woman and tell her that it wasn't because of her. "I know what you're thinking. It wasn't my fault. Except it was." Professor Goodwitch's eyes turned regretful.
"If only I had taught them more. If only I had given the right advice, if only I had pushed them harder, made them work harder, showed them more options to do what's right." She sighed, looking through the window in Jaune's room. "If only I had taught them to run away as well as they fought."
"That's asking too much of you." Came Jaune response, his face hard. "You shouldn't be expected to help every student in there. They knew the risks."
Glynda smiled and nodded. "That's right. They knew the risks. It doesn't make it hurt any less though, does it?"
Jaune closed his mouth, looking away as he drew the parallels between them. "No." Jaune said quietly. "It doesn't."
"Then stop trying to push it away." The professor said gently. "Drinking isn't going to help anything. It's just running away from the problem. Face it head on, and take it as a lesson to make you stronger. So when—and it will happen again, believe me—you lose someone again, you won't have to say 'I should have tried harder'."
There was a nod, then a shaking of a shoulders as Jaune started tearing up again. Like before, the blonde woman didn't wait as she hugged him again, letting him feel the warmth and comfort, as well as trying to convey that she was here and she would help. The boy wrapped his arms around her too, and let loose, not having done so since his mother held him close.