A/N: So… tell me how I did with this chapter. I was a little distracted with the ELeague majors but… hopefully I made this chapter out to be as riveting as I wanted it to be :)

That guy: Hahaha, so you say

That guy: Thanks!

A Stranger Without An Account: Thanks!

Guest 1: Hahaha Thanks ^-^ I don't think I'm really at that level yet, and I'm doing this to help me write better first. I think most of you guys really just gave me a chance at first because my grammar isn't all out terrible XD Maybe I'll work on a book someday XD And I am a guy :)

Guest 2: Thanks!

Guest 3: Good! Everyone should love the ups and downs of recovery! Especially the downs! XD

Jaune kept his pacing up, his breath heaving, his eyes wide as he made sure he didn't trip under any roots.

He was lost, and this was probably the last day of his life.

Staggering through the woods, Jaune clutched at the stomach wound that he sported and found a nice spot in the dirt to sit. He was a complete mess. Should see the other guy, Jaune thought, chuckling grimly to himself. Lifting his hand, he saw the blood flowing and winced, placing his hand right back onto the wound.

Yeah, definitely not looking again.

Jaune hurt everywhere. There were scratches on his hands and knees where he fell from running, there were scratches where the branches hit him when he ran away, and there was the annoying stomach wound that seemed intent on keeping him immobile and slowly bleed him out. All small things that prevented him from crawling back home. What was even worse, there were already blisters forming on his palms from wielding Crocea Mors, which surprisingly pissed Jaune off more than him slowly bleeding to death.

Maybe I'm not fit to be a Hunter. Jaune snorted in amusement at the thought. Who was he kidding? Of course he wasn't fit to be a Hunter, he's going to die after fighting a pair of Beowulves. Jaune groaned, sinking a little deeper into the ground as a pulse of pain wrack his body.

For someone who was about to die, he felt oddly calm though. There wasn't any panic, no dying wishes that he desperately needed to express. Regrets... he had a lot of those, but he's sure that wouldn't be a problem for much longer. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe it was time to go.

Jaune sighed, closing his eyes, so tired. His eyes cracked open again when he heard a distinct snort of a Boarbatusk, shuffling out through a bush slowly, eyes flashing as he saw the limp blonde sitting underneath the solitary tree. The Grimm squealed angrily and pawed at the ground, head lowered and ready to charge at the human that dared reveal himself to the creature.

The boy wasn't scared of dying. But he closed his eyes anyways, not wanting to see the goring that he was going to be put through. Jaune could hear it though. The rhythmic stomping as the Boarbatusk got closer and closer, the pitched screaming...

Then silence.

Am I dead yet?

Jaune cracked open an eye, expecting white fields and sunshines, or alternatively, firey fields or at least a sort of comfy bed that he could lie in for all of eternity. He didn't see any of that though. Well, he saw white, but it was against a backdrop of trees and a fallen Grimm, split in half cleanly.

The white mass shifted, and as it turned, a face was revealed. It was a familiar face, as if someone had taken one of his friends and aged it twenty or so years forwards. In fact, Jaune squinted carefully, unsure if it was it was Ruby or not, his failing vision not helping out at this point. The scene confused him enough that he actually couldn't help but ask.

"Ruby?"

The girl—no, Jaune was pretty confident that she was a woman, if not by her face, then by the way she stood and the air she held, smirked a little. It was like looking into an identical twin.

"Not exactly." Ah, the voice was certainly different though. Deeper. Warmer, without the underlying threat that it would suddenly crack if she decided to rise to a higher tone. Jaune could definitely see Ruby growing up to have that sort of voice though. The woman crouched down, her white cloak sweeping the ground as she looked closer at the wound that Jaune sported. Suddenly he felt self conscious, twisting his body to the side a little before gasping as pain bloomed. Where it appeared, Jaune wasn't sure, but he really didn't want to find out.

A soft hand touched his chest and pushed him towards the ground. The flaring pain subsided a little along with the motion, allowing Jaune to open his eyes and look into the concerned woman's stare.

"You should probably move a little less." She said quietly, something that Jaune wholeheartedly agreed to. He might be dying, but he'd rather not suffer too much while doing it though. Wait a second. There was another spasm as Jaune tried to sit up, making the woman frown, her hand pushing a little harder downwards, discouraging him from sitting higher.

"Can you... help me?" Jaune asked weakly. Suddenly there was a brief hope, a small flicker of flame as there was a small chance of surviving. A flame that completely disappeared when the woman's face turned sorrowful, shaking her head.

"I'm... sorry. I can't."

Jaune parted his lips, growing slightly indignant. What do you mean you can't? Can't save a life? You mean won't save it? Then he closed his mouth again, as well as his eyes. He was too tired to care anyways. Wasn't he ready to die just a few moments ago anyways? The woman touched his shoulder again, bringing his attention towards her.

"I'm sorry. I truly am. If I could I would, but..." This time the woman closed her eyes, her face pained. Her body almost seemed to shake in anger because of... something. Some reason that she wasn't telling, and Jaune didn't know. His heart ached, adding to the pain throughout his body.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt someone.

Using a small amount of his diminishing energy, Jaune reached out and touched his companion's face, bringing her eyes to his.

"It's alright." Jaune said, smiling. There were more words that he wanted to say, more things he wanted to do to make sure that she wouldn't the pain and regret of not saving him.

Dust knows he already knows what that feels like.

He didn't need to say anything though, as she touched his hand and smiled, thanking him with her eyes.

Silence passed between the two of them as Jaune drew a few labored breaths, reminding himself to keep the pressure on his wound. It was painful to stay awake, to give effort in staying alive, but a small, struggling part inside of him insisted that he stay for as long as possible, if only to keep this woman company.

"Who are you?" Jaune asked quietly. Everything he said was quiet now, Jaune trying to conserve as much energy as he possibly could.

"Someone who's here to ease your pain." The woman replied. Another touch of her hand made him sigh, drawing in a larger lungful of air. "I want... Let me make your last moments more comfortable." She removed her cloak and laid it on top of him, something that was more comforting than it should've been. The only thing he could really think was that he was probably staining the beautiful white cloak with his blood.

"Thank you." For being here, Jaune wanted to say, but started to cough violently, the action sapping even more of his precious strength. When he was able to come to again he spotted the drops of blood seeping through the cloak. "Sorry." He croaked out. The woman chuckled, shaking her head.

"You're the one dying," She said, "but you're saying sorry for a stain on my cloak? You're fine sweetie." Jaune laughed a little, but stopped quickly before it started to really pain him. The woman continued to keep his mind off the pain, chatting idly and touching his shoulder, his chest, constantly making sure that he was comfortable. It was nice.

It reminded him of his mother.

That brought a real smile on his face. With his eyes closed, he could just imagine his mother fussing at him when he hurt himself, making sure that he was alright after a rough day, like falling off his bike, tripping and falling down the stairs, accidentally closing the door on his hands.

Wow.

Looking back at it, no wonder he made a terrible Hunter.

His imagination took things a little further, bringing him all the way back to his home, where he tried pushing him mom away, insisting that he was alright while his dad tried to convince him to listen to her.

"I'm alright mom!" Jaune insisted. "I'm tough, like dad!"

The man laughed at that, shaking his head while wrapping up Jaune's leg. "Come on sport, even I need something to keep me strong." His wife raised an eyebrow at him.

"A strong drink isn't really the same thing." She said quietly under her breath.

"What was that dear?"

"Nothing!"

"Why did you even come out here?"

The question came from the mysterious woman, peering at Jaune curiously. It was a reasonable question, after all. Not many sane civilians would go into the forest and pick a fight with the Grimm. Most wouldn't even think about getting close to the edge of the trees actually. I guess that just makes me crazy then, Jaune thought to himself, chuckling maniacally inside of his mind.

"It doesn't really matter anymore does it? I made a mistake and I went here. That's all there is." Jaune grunted dismissively. The woman didn't seem to share his sentiments though.

"I think it does matter." She objected, smiling at him. Jaune just eyed her cautiously.

"Why?" He asked. "Why would it really matter?"

"Because," The woman replied, "One should always settle their accounts before… moving on." Jaune pulled a face at her not-so-subtle euphemism and slumped forward, face pained.

"I…" Jaune struggled trying to talk, breathing heavily. "I just wanted to try and fight."

"Fight?"

"Fight what's wrong." Jaune answered back with a whisper. The woman laid a hand on his and kept her gaze on him.

"And what's wrong?"

"I don't know!" Jaune half-shouted, the loudest he had gotten since being saved from the Boarbatusks. "The unfairness of the world, my parents dying, being— being alone. I don't know." Jaune grew quieter, coughs rising up through his throat. The woman helped him through the coughs by rubbing his back. The coughing was growing more painful, seeming to disturb his ribs. He put his arm over his eyes, closing them. "I don't even know why I did this. This is so… stupid."

Neither of them spoke for a little while, Jaune agonizing over his decisions and regrets while the woman sat there at his side, keeping him company. Suddenly all of his regrets seemed to flash before his eyes. Everything he wanted and should've done but never did it, and everything he did but should've never done.

Mom… Dad…

He missed them both so, so much.

But the lady beside him was right. Maybe he needed to clear his head, clear his heart before the end.

"When I was a kid," Jaune said hoarsely, bringing the brunette's attention towards him. "I wanted to be a Hunter. My dad was one, you know? He wasn't a very good one," Jaune laughed a little, remembering how many nights Nicholas Arc seemed to come home with his Aura smashed, cuts and scratches all over him. "But he always came back home." Jaune glanced over to see if the woman was listening, which she was, smiling softly at him. He drew in another breath and continued talking.

"When he decided that he didn't want to train me to be a Hunter… It hurt. A lot." Jaune's eyes fluttered briefly, heavy and wanting to rest. But still he kept them open.

"He was scared of losing you." The woman replied back. The blonde boy nodded, smiling at her.

"I know that now. But back then…" He sighed, pain running across his face. "I was so mad. So angry." Jaune glanced down at the cloak laid across him. "I ran away. Worst decision I've ever made." Jaune said, laughing humorlessly.

"…What happened?"

Jaune stiffened, his eyes squeezing tight, his mind bombarding him with the memory. Of his mistake.

"I…" Jaune whispered, his heart beating painfully fast. It was the first time he was going to talk about what actually happened. It felt weird that it was probably going to be his last time too. "I snuck out during the night. Went towards the nearest docking bay to catch a ride to Vale and… and I took… I took…" Jaune's eyes glanced over towards the sword that he had dropped earlier, having been used more of as a cane than a fighting implement. He sighed and continued to talk. "On my way through I saw… Grimm. A lot of them. And what do I do?" Jaune laughed derisively, almost hysterically at himself. "I hid. I found the nearest tree, climbed up and waited for them to pass. Some hero I am." Jaune muttered under his breath. The lady gave a sympathetic smile, but shook her head at his statement. Her face showed a hint of regret as she touched his shoulder.

"Sometimes," She said quietly, "Sometimes the best thing you can do is live to come back home to your family." She muttered even quieter, something Jaune couldn't quite catch, except for a few words here and there, "Should've thought things through," and "Sorry," being the main things.

"That's the thing." Jaune objected after she finished talking. "The only thing I thought about was myself when I climbed up that tree. I mean, it didn't take me long to realize where they were heading." A single tear slid down his cheek out of his control, remembering desperately running back home to do something, anything. "I came back home and found…" Jaune gasped, unable to finish what he was saying, doubling over in pain, physical and psychological. There was a soft gasp of understanding from the woman as pieced the puzzle together.

"It was a massacre." Jaune said woodenly. "My sisters. My mother. My dad, he tried to hold them off, but—" Jaune's breathing grew more and more uneven, his eyes still stuck on Crocea Mors. "Even Hunters have a hard time killing Grimm without their weapons."

"Oh… Oh Jaune…" The breathy whisper from the woman only served to hurt Jaune further, the boy groaning in pain, tears flowing more freely.

"I… I found my mom and—and she told me to run… and I ran." Jaune drew in a shuddering breath. "I just ran. From my family. From everything." One of his hands covered his face, muffling the sobs that tried to escape. "I killed them. Me."

"Oh. Oh sweetie…" There was a flurry of movement as the lady wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, leaving him breathless. She didn't say anything, only keep him in her grasp. Jaune didn't say anything either, instead opting to wrap his shaking limbs around her body, burying himself into her shoulder and he let himself cry.

Calming down was harder than Jaune thought. He tried—oh yes, he tried his best, his mind repeating itself over and over again. Stop crying. Stop crying. Stop crying. But the tears didn't stop. The emotions he felt kept coming, and coming, and coming…

The only thing that tethered him still to this world was a calm and steady hand, stroking his back. The only sensation his mind registered, allowing him—slowly—to calm down and hold back the tears.

"I'm sorry to hear that Jaune." The woman said after making sure Jaune had found a bit of calm. It wasn't as much as he would have liked, but it was enough to keep his tears to a minimal, and allowed him to use to hands to cover his stomach wound, which had started to weep again when he had removed the pressure from it. "I know how… hard mistakes can be. Living through the unintended consequences of what you did?" Again the look of regret crossed her face. "I'll have to admit I've gone the full distance in that respect."

"Really?" Jaune hiccupped, blinking rapidly. The smile appeared on her face again, this time a little smaller than before, her eyes showing a different story as well.

"Everyone makes mistakes that they wished they could change. Some bigger than others. I know how it feels, and I'm sure you're sick of hearing how it's not your fault." The ever-present hand brushed Jaune's bangs out of his eyes, her kind look piercing through him. "It doesn't really matter how many people tell you it's not your fault, does it? Because in the end, it's not their opinion of you that matters. It's yours."

The bloodied boy nodded, his heart fluttering as he finally found someone who understood.

"But," She cautioned, raising a solitary finger. "You have to make sure not to keep yourself mired in the past." Her silver eyes held him in place, trying to convey the importance of her next words. "If you stay stuck in the past… you'll never be able to escape the hurt. And it'll keep building and building until…" Her eyes finally slid away from his, her fist over her heart. "You'll end up hurting those around you as well."

Jaune cracked a smile, revealing bloodstained teeth. "It's a little too late for that now, isn't it?" His tone was sarcastic, but his expression was the same as the woman's. Regretful.

"Yes. Maybe it is." The woman laughed. The situation was grim, but the two of them laughed, because sometimes, if you don't laugh, you cry.

"It's a shame," The woman spoke again. "that you decided that the best way to clear your conscience was to do something so… rash." Jaune shrugged.

"One of my friend's dad gave me some advice. I'm sure he didn't mean to go and fight Grimm without Aura but…" Jaune thought about the bottles of whiskey that lay at home. "It's not the first mistake I've done." He covered his face, another regret surfacing. "I hope Taiyang doesn't feel guilty about talking to me."

"Taiyang?" The brunette seemed started, eyes wide as she looked at Jaune. "Taiyang gave you advice?"

"Yes," Jaune nodded. "You know him?"

The woman covered her face, again muttering something under her breath. "Something like that." The smile that she showed was wide, humor sparkling in her eyes. "My husband is a great man," She said happily, "But he's a bit of an idiot sometimes."

"You're husband?" Jaune continued to blink owlishly at the unexpected information. The woman sighed, nodding.

"Yes." She pointed a finger at Jaune. "You probably shouldn't listen to him too often. His advice sounds good and most of the time, it is sound advice. But he also forgets to take in circumstances before he does things." She shook her head, closing her eyes. "Trust me, he doesn't think things through very often, and I'm sure if he gave thought to whatever advice he was giving you, he would've said something different." She covered her face, shaking her head.

Jaune just sat there, looking at the woman, still confused about what she had just said.

"Wait. You're Taiyang's wife?"

An eyebrow rose up as she lowered her hands. "That's… what I said, did I?"

"But… aren't you supposed to be… dead?"

Summer Rose looked at him with a blank expression.

"I am."

…

Jaune was so confused.

"But how—what—" Jaune's ever-present headache seemed to pulse with his confusion, making him clutch his head. "I am so confused right now."

The mother of Ruby laughed, one of her hands ruffling his hair. "I can see why. Don't worry about it Jaune. It's one of the mysteries of the world."

"I still don't—" Jaune protested, before another coughing spell took him over, this time more painful than ever. The coughing kept going and going, blood spilling from his mouth, his wounds bleeding faster as his hands left his stomach.

"Oh Dust I—" Jaune's chest rose and fell faster than ever before, his eyes wide, panicked. "I can't—I can't breathe." Summer sat there, an unreadable expression on her face.

"It hurts doesn't it?" She asked quietly. Jaune could only nod, unable to speak. Oh God it hurt so much. Lights seemed to ebb and flow in his eyes, vision blurring in and out. Then he found it. Deep within himself, he found one thought that brought him away from the brink of death for a just a tiny bit longer.

I don't want to go.

"Please…" Jaune whispered, hand fumbling to find the woman's hand. The grip was a little different when he found it though, another hand resting on top of his. The hands were definitely different from before. Jaune looked up, finding not Summer there, but Violetta Arc sitting beside him, a motherly smile on her face. Beside her sat Nicholas.

"Mom… Dad…" Jaune croaked out, coughing loudly from the two words. I'm sorry, he wanted to say. He needed to say. The two sitting beside him shook their heads though, but didn't say a word, their eyes understanding and kind.

We forgive you.

There was only understanding between the three of them. More movement rustled around him, making Jaune look and find one, two, three of his sisters. Mika, Hazel, Pazi… where were the others? Was he going to meet them later, after he passed? The thought went through his mind, and was engulfed into the forefront of his mind.

"I don't want to go." Jaune said, begged. For once in his life, he had found peace, but he didn't want it. He wanted to make things right, he wanted to stop regretting and live.

"Please…"

And with the word, the images of his family disappeared, his chest constricting tightly. But still he forced the air out of his lungs. Breathing was living. Breathing was living. What else could the living do? What else?

They could sing.

Jaune's mind worked on its last dredges of energy, recalling the first song that he had ever heard when he came to Vale. His cracked lips parted, and as uneven a tone as it was, as unmelodic as it was, Jaune sang.

"T-tell me…" Jaune's coughs were getting quietly, his breathing shallower. "Tell me… something."

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

"Tell me who's the loneliest…"

Breathe in…

"Of… all."

Jaune closed his eyes, his last breath escaping him as his chin touched his chest, slumping inwards.

.

.

.

"-ne?"

"—aune!"

"Jaune!"