Grovestreet, a short dead end road flanked by six crappy two-story residential builds with a larger one at the end. Not many things too remarkable about it to the average Valeian, certainly not a place any passerby would immediately think was the home of the city's most violent supremacist gang. You'd have to squint to see what was wrong with it; a flag with racist meaning there, too many tattooed men here, vehicles coming at strange hours unloading strange crates. It all added up to a place most could pass but wouldn't hang around, but for Cardin it was home. At least it had been, but for the life of himself he couldn't remember when that had actually been.

He'd parked his van in the alley he knew the lookouts couldn't see and started walking up. The moment he was spotted was noticeable, before he even passed the first set of houses men with bats, clubs, machetes, and a large assortment of guns stepped out onto pouches and lawn menacingly. Cardin ignored them all as he marched towards the house at the end of the block, cutting a intimidating figure himself. His shirt had been too messed up to be salvageable, instead all he wore was his plate, the hateful ink on his skin, and the spilt blood of his captors covering his upper body, all cemented by a terrible snarl that deepened with every step. Of course his mace clipped to his hip and the stolen shotgun in his hand also lent to the feeling of unease that permeated the forty or so gang members. Unease that led to him being unchallenged, but slowly encircled as he stood up to the final house at the end of the block; his old house.

His feet stopped carrying him forward as Cardin took a step onto the lawn. Maybe a moment of nervousness entered him, at least it should have, but his mind felt nothing but a cool determination that would have given an Atlassian a frostbite. He was not here to hesitate, he was not here to back down.

"GET OUT HERE OLD MAN!"

Cardin was here for his pound of flesh. Owed for his life, his family's souls, for the beatings, the terrible things he'd been made to do to people, he was here to take it all regardless if it cost his life

The front door opened, and for a moment Cardin had to hold himself from raising his gun right there. His old man stepped forwards, an imposing two feet taller than Cardin with a face that matched his own, shitless like him his entire chest was covered in ink, all of it adorning savage muscles in hateful fashion, except for a single simple rendition of an old Vale PD badge over the man's heart. The man held no weapons, but Cardin knew this to be simply because his father liked to do his killing with his bare hands.

"Well ain't this something boy. See you decided to come home." He eye'd the blood covering Cardin and smiled. "Glad you ain't become too much of a pussy."

For his part Cardin just stood silently and seethed.

The eldest Winchester frowned. "That what you came here for boy? Come here to be a big man?"

"Giving you one chance. Leave me and mine alone." Cardin offered, thumbing off his iron's safety.

"So that's how you think this is gonna go." His father's veneer of pleasantry disappeared to show the anger Cardin really knew. "I'll give it to you boy, you always had sand. Walking up into my place and making punk ass demands in front of my men like that." he laughed cruelly. "But you always had two problems; you're dumb as a bag of rocks, and deep down, without all that piss and vinegar, weak at heart. Now I can't fix stupid, but I tried my best to beat the weakness out of ya. Too bad I never could. You always tried to square up on me when you thought you were a man, and every time I left you crying." His father's anger heated with every word he uttered. "I know all about that bunny whore you been walking around town with. How much pussy that animal in Beacon give you to forsake duty? Duty to humanity, to family, and worst of all to your mother."

Cardin was quick tempered, he ran hot all his life; another curse of his father's parenting. It was a burning rage he had watched hurt many innocent people in his short life. He didn't feel it now, only a coldness. "You killed mom." he stated evenly.

"What did you just say?" His father questioned in a dangerously low tone.

"You used her death to make this. Always told everyone that car bomb was terrorists, but she took your car that day." The words came out calm, Cardin's words not an accusation but the reality. "You were a racist ass cop, three questionable shootings and who knows what else before that day. We weren't targeted because we were humans, you made us targets."

"You're such a fucking disappointment." His father seethed. "I'm going to break you, like I have every time. Then I'm going to get your bitch. Gonna make you watch as the sickest fucks I can find have there way with her before I scalp her and mount those ears on my wall." He paused, waiting to see his son's reaction. His boy was an angry one, he knew what got under his skin. Instead of the satisfaction he was expecting from his boy's rage at his promise, he felt his own anger heat as Cardin just chuckled.

"You can't break me." Cardin declared with pride. "Those beatings, those never got me. I didn't leave because of the whippings with your belt. I left because I was done hurting people. Every faunus I broke, every family I left grieving, I remembered."

"Pussy." his father spat. "You're still thick as ever. If you think I'm going to waste my time on some one on one bullshit, you are mistaken boy. It's you, and you only, against all these men." His voice raised as his next words addressed his thugs more so than his kid. "Men that know what duty and honor really are!" Lowering his voice he looked back to son. "Guess you should have brought some friends, kid."

From the edge of his vision Cardin could see his father's men start to step forward, intent on bringing him down as they had at the bookstore. Instead of looking away from his father and ready himself he smiled as he heard the sound of vehicles pull onto the entrance of the road. A lot of vehicles. "I remembered them all." Car doors opened as feet hit the ground. "Everyone we hurt." The gang turned to see the newcomers. "I called and messaged everyone I could find." Before the gang lay an army of faunus. "Made sure to swing by and put some slugs in every faunus gang clubhouse and hide out you every taught to me" Faunus of every stripe and even a few humans where in the mass, some in grab of gangsters and thugs, a good portion of regular folks, even some in white Fang uniforms and masks. All were armed; guns, knives, and all manner of homemade clubs matching the gangs own. The only thing uniform of the bunch were their faces; all twisted in hate and rage. "I don't have to put my friends in danger when I got so many enemies." Cardin finished.

So, the plan was to rock up on an unknown number of violent supremacists, somehow beat them all on their home turf, save Cardin, then chew him out for being a suicidal dumbass. Thinking that through for a minute Jaune figured he may need to need to get some ear plugs for that chewing so he couldn't hear the hypocrisy of his own suicidal charge. All in all though, it seemed like a plan he could work with. Honestly it wasn't even in his top ten dumbest ideas, and so far too many of those had worked out already, so what was one more.

One problem had appeared in his plan though.

Blake stared at Juane with a slightly bewildered look. "Jaune."

"Yeah, Blake?" He responded politely.

"Do you know how to drive?" She asked just as politely.

He looked back at her with the most sincerelook he could manage. "What makes you think that?"

Currently, the van was stopped on the sidewalk, a wooden cart exploded underneath, leafy greens smeared across the windshield. "My cabbages!" The unlucky owner of said cart screamed from a few feet away.

Blake's eyebrow raised so high Jaune was sure it would have left her forehead if it was possible. "Just a feeling."

"My legs." A man groaned. Looking back Jaune was a bit surprised to see the same drunk brother of Raven behind their vehicle with tire marks on him. Eh, he had aura Jaune mentally shrugged, besides he was the reason he knew Raven's crazy ass, so this felt like karma if nothing else. Bad luck though.

"You want to drive?" He asked Blake.

"Yes, Jaune."

"Cool." He said unbuckling himself and sliding back to the rear of the van.

Taking his position in the driver's seat Blake buckled up. "Seriously Jaune, I've never seen anyone drive so bad in my life."

"Sorry," He mumbled with embarrassment.

"Seriously, who doesn't know you don't stop at red lights?" Blake questioned rhetorically.

"Wha-" Was all Jaune got out before Blake smashed the pedal to the floor, sending Jaune flying onto his back.

"And who doesn't use the whole speedometer." Blake remarked, a tad bit annoyed.

A terrible pit settled in Jaune's stomach. He was getting the feeling that, maybe, Blake didn't know how to drive either.

If his father had anything to say at his words and entrance of the mob it was lost as the first explosions of gunshots rang out. The gang scattered, some for cover, others charging headlong into the mob. In an instant the street descended into an absolute blood bath. For his part the old man ducked back into his house, intent on making his boy come to him.

Some supremacists remembered their initial target and rushed Cardin. His feet propelled him forward, aura flaring and shotgun barking he crashed into them with the force of a Ursa. He had no target except the door to his childhood home, the men unlucky enough to make contact with him breaking with sickening sounds of bones cracking. Like a hot knife through butter he cut through, even the few elite men with unlocked aura bounced off him. No one would rob him of this his mind screamed as he unloaded a shell at point blank at an aura user that dared step in front of him, the man sent flying to ground.

Corpses and mangled bodies behind him with only a little distance to go before the house, he saw his father at the nearby window with a mean looking belt feed in his hands. The normal part of the human brain that demanded survival screamed for him to take cover came only as a faint whisper. The rounds impacted him, aura free fell, armor bent and cracked, and his body screamed in horrible pain. He didn't relent, every neuron in his brain burning an endless stream of abuses and injustices for fuel to fire a rage that burned sanity away and left him seeing red as he continued his charge.

His gun, empty and raised as a short of shield before his face, shattered before his eyes. Steps away from the window he pulled his mace out, only having the presence of mind to remember it as it existed as an instrument of his vengeance. With a terrifying roar, he disintegrated the window and the wall beneath it as his charge finally brought him swinging his mace at his father. Drywall, wood, and glass, exploded as the mace crashed into the man's head, body sent to the ground as his gun went flying away. The blow would have cleaved a normal man's head off, but his father had aura. He was the one to give Cardin his own after all.

Standing above his father he raised his weapon again to strike, but instead felt his legs give out as his father recovered quickly and sent a powerful kick into his leg. Slamming to the ground next to him, the specter of exhaustion started to creep onto him, his wounds and charge taking their toll. As fast as he tried to recover and straddle his enemy, his father was quicker. Instead of taking the dominant position on top Cardin was pinned beneath him, thrashing like a wild older man was fresher, had significantly more aura, and decades of experience as a cop and violent criminal, making Cardin's blows meaningless as his hands clamped around his son's throat.

The young PI's vision swam and his blows became weaker and weaker, all while his father looked down with a murderous glint in his eye, his hands holding a steel grip. The man leaned closer. "So fucking weak." He uttered as he watched the boy's life slowly leave him.

"AAAHHHHH" He wailed as Caridn"s thumbs gouged into his eyes, aura saving his vision but not stopping the primal fear and pain from sending the man flying off his son.

Life came back to Caridin as he coughed and retched for oxygen. Get up, his mind screamed, but finally the demands of his beaten body won out. He fought it, harder than anything he'd ever fought for in his life. Slowly he started to rise. Only for his father's boot to strike him back to the ground.

"Well, you sure put on a good show, boy" His father remarked as he kept Cardin trapped underfoot. He undid his belt and warped it around his large meaty fist. "Seems like you got some of those brain cells working in the end I suppose." He brought the belt down on Cardin's face. "Came up short as always, though." Another blow. "You stupid," The next blow shattered Cardin's paper thin aura. "Fucking," Blood coated the belt as the blows came faster. "Fanuas loving" The blows changed from whips to strikes. "Failure of a son."

The blows stopped, eventually. Cardin's face was a mess, multiple large gashes oozed blood. Only one of his eye's wasn't completely swollen shut, the other barely seeing the world through blood. His nose was crushed and his lower lip was split in two. "Son." His father spoke softly. Cardin wheezed, his body using anything it could pretend was strength to suck oxygen through the blood pooling in his throat. "I have to break you." Genuine sadness was in the man's voice. "I have to break you to build you to be strong. You can't survive any other way in this world." His next words were the closest Cardin had ever heard to a plea from his dad. "Break. Come back to your family." His fist tightened on the belt. "Don't make me do this."

Tears flowed from Cardin mixing with blood.

"...y-y…o-o..u-u…"

He violently spasmed as his body tried to cough at his effort.

"...h…i…t-t…"

The spams increased as a single tortuous cough was managed.

"..l-lik..e-e"

Cardin was full on coughing and retching, sending agony beyond anything he could imagine through every nerve at his effort. He pushed on.

"A-a"

A horrific mockery of a smile willed itself onto his mangled face.

"Bitch." He proudly rasped.

A grim look came to his father's face. "I'm sorry I couldn't fix you, son." He raised his belt.

Cardin closed his eyes, but kept his smile. He knew he would die. Die like he'd lived.

Unbreakable.

Then the world exploded.

Jaune blinked his eyes, his vision centered on a ceiling. Hadn't he been in a van? Looking around he saw he was in what appeared to be a normal living room. Well, normal as a living room could be with a van crashed into it. A few more blinks and moment to shake his scrambled brain back to reality he started to remember how he got here. He'd been in the back of the van as Blake had driven. If you considered the driving from his favorite game, Grandest Vehicle Larceny, driving, that is. Most of the ride being him sitting quietly and admiring the good time Blake was making, and definitely not holding onto the passenger seat for dear life while screaming like a little girl. Any polite critiques of Blake's driving, again not girlish screams of mercy, were met with Blake launching into a tirade on how the serotype of faunus women being bad drivers was a racist myth that hurt society and how he didn't know how to drive up and rubbing his sore neck, he was pretty sure he knew that speeding on sidewalks was not considered driving.

Looking beside him he saw Cardin slumped on the ground. "You're not looking so hot, man." His, recently ejected from a van, brain understated.

"Yep." Cardin mumbled.

Looking back to the van he could see Blake slumped over the wheel, the rise and fall of her chest telling him that the menace to society was still alive. He tried to stand, but when he couldn't, he finally realized that a beam was pinning his legs. Using his aura he pushed it only to realize that the beam had the weight of the building on it, the only way he was moving it was to drop the house on them. A sound of wreckage rustling had him look over to see a large man crawling towards his revolver, discarded between them. It was closer to Jaune than the supremacist, but pinned, Blake unconscious, and Cardin looking a hair away from death's door, it might as well have been in the man's hand already.

Slumping back down beside Cardin he settled on looking at the ceiling. "This rescuing you thing isn't going great man." He admitted.

"Yep." Cardin repeated.

"Yep." Jaune confirmed.

"Sorry about all this." Cardin rasped.

"It's cool." Jaune shrugged. "You're my buddy."

"You too, man." Cardin admitted.

Turning his head, Jaune could see the man getting closer to the gun. "Hey Cardin," He said, turning back to his friend. "Grab my hand."

"Please don't make this gayer." Cardin begged.

"Do it you stupid son of a bitch." Jaune frantically demanded.

Too weak to complain and move his hand at the same time, Cardin settled on just grabbing Jaune's hand if it let him die in peace. Buddy or not, Cardin didn't feel like some overly flowery declaration of friendship to be the last thing he did. He was in a pretty great deal of pain just hanging on.

"I'm going to try to enter you." Jaune explained. "No homo." He added seeing Cardin's look of utter annoyance.

He closed his eyes and focused. Searching himself, he could distantly detect the same feeling he'd felt when he'd been dying. It was something unknown, distant, but he could feel it connected to his aura somehow. Frantically, Jaune prayed he wasn't about to die like an idiot.

Cardin's Father finally felt his hand grasp the gun he'd been crawling for. He'd been hit square by the van and wasn't in great shape, his legs were dislocated at the least. Seeing the state of Cardin's reinforcements though, he knew he was coming out on top of this with the gun now. Raising it, he moved to aim. Then the world went white, it was like flashbang had gone off

Rubbing the spots from his eyes he went to aim again only to feel it kicked from his hand. Vision returning he saw what had taken his weapon. His eyes grew in shock, it was impossible.

Standing tall before him was Cardin; all injury gone. The only thing that showed he'd ever been hurt was two scars across the boy's face and another on his lip. From on high, Cardin looked down on his old man with a cold look in his eyes.

Bending down, Cardin grabbed his father's bloody belt and wrapped it around his fist.

A bit shorter than usual, but I'm hoping this is a satisfying conclusion to this case. I had an epilogue planned but it think it best left to the next chapter, which should come soon. I hope you all liked this thought, see ya'll at the next chapter.