Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue, RWBY, some of the items nor lore of Halo, and some of the albums and songs referenced and brands. RvB is Rooster Teeth's property. RWBY previously belonged to the former until VIZ Media acquired it. Halo belongs to Microsoft and Halo Studios. While the albums and songs and brands belong to their respective artists and companies.

"Alright, best Linkin Park album?" Tucker asked

"Hybrid Theory, hands down." Church answered while Grif nodded in agreement. Simmons however chose to oppose the notion.

"Hot take incoming, but I gotta say Meteora. Theory was just unbridled rage and angst while Meteora was better lyrically."

"Agree to disagree."

"Seconded," Tucker parroted. "I mean both are fine but for me their debut one was better.

Simmons just chose to nod. "I suppose."

"How about, uh, what was that one... Soundgarden?" Church asked the group.

"Superunknown," Grif automatically answered, "'Black hole sun' and 'Fell on black days' are just too peak not to be mentioned."

Tucker nodded to that. "Well, that is a solid choice I gotta say."

"Hey, what about Creed?" Grif then questioned, to which Simmons cringed. "Okay, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that."

"Fuck you geekoid, they are single-handedly one of the greatest bands of all time."

"Yeah. Of butt rock."

"I wish you'd explode."

"And I wish you'd starve" Simmons groused as he shook his head. "Don't tell me, next you're also gonna say 'Staind and Three Doors Down are great artistically.'"

"And which they are" Grif dramatically exclaimed, clearly profound with his belief.

"Alright, knock it off morons" Church spoke up to interject their little pre-argument. "As much fun as they are, I got burned out from listening for a while. One time my parents had a really bad argument, my dad holed himself up in the garage looping 'Human Clay' and 'Weathered' on repeat. Not a pleasant experience, nor an easy one to walk away from."

"So much for that you dunderheads, how about something with a little more taste," Tucker took over, "Best Eminem album?"

"Marshall Mathers LP" Church and Grif simultaneously echoed.

Tucker nodded in appreciation. "I see, you are both men of culture as well."

Church took a sip of his drink and asked again. "How about Breaking Benjamin?"

There were mutters along the group before Simmons offered his opinion.

"Phobia, I guess?"

Grif then continued. "How about Green Day?"

"It's either 'Dookie' or 'Gulchian Idiot'"

It was a balmy evening, not too cold to drive them back inside and not late enough for it to be pitch black outside. Perfect conditions for our visiting idiots from Blood Gulch to just screw around and relax on the dormitory rooftop. It's been nearly a month since the notorious batch of sim troopers have set foot in Vale's soil and integrated themselves into Beacon Academy's populace of aspiring huntsmen and huntresses, nearly a month now of studying, clashing, reading, aiming, blasting, running away, sometimes several of those at the same time,

The mission was progressing at an acceptable rate, an opinion not shared among those in the group who wanted it to be over sooner, even if things thus far had been going... relatively smoothly. Gathering of intel, analyzing the skills of the student huntsmen teams, understanding the current geopolitical events, all a consistent routine when they weren't writing their reports.

It was quite different from their times at Blood Gulch, save whenever they were pointing their guns at each other during training or matches, though that didn't mean it was ALL better; after that whole fiasco on the first day of class, they were pretty much the hot topic of the resident gossip and rumor mill among the students for a good week, and not in an all-too flattering way. Fortunately, with someone as competent as Locus at the head of this op, they somehow managed to keep their behavior in line and lay low long enough to get themselves out of everyone's immediate sights, or at the very least as best they could.

Church himself didn't mind going from a target to mostly ignored, not when just a few stares and weird looks along the way made it a far cry from the scrutiny and ire from before. Plus, having been acquainted with two teams certainly helped ease the negative and judgmental reception (save for a certain heiress).

Along with basic manners, during their free time, Locus had taken the liberty of having them train together during their free time to make them all more serious, competent soldiers. Granted he was met with some whining and complaining, but it never did seem to faze him. After all, if he was going to be stuck with them for the whole of a school year, then he wasn't going to have them lag behind by doing nothing all day but stand around and talk, or at least those were his words on the matter.

In fact, they had just finished an intense marksmen session in the training hall, and after the tiring schedule of tradecraft, CQB tactics, armed and unarmed combat practice and a whole other slog of boot-camp activities, they figured they deserved a break after all the "improvements" they've made to their "team cohesion" and "individual skill."

Hence here they were, relaxing on the rooftop with a couple of cold ones nicely paired with a stirring conversation of some of Gulch's greatest bands. The beer, while not Gulchian, was okay.

"I like Bowling for Soup," Caboose then gave his piece after his aqua partner. Momentarily more stunned than they were intrigued by his words, the four of them gave the dumb blue their attention.

"...And, why is that?" Church risked asked.

"Oh uh, you see, they seem to be really desperate to want their favorite food so they had to go bowling for it. But I don't know why they want to do all that for soup!" he now was beginning to rant. "I mean, why the heck would they be bowling for some soup when you could just get them from soup kitchens and not go bowl for some ice cream instead?!"

"...Ugh, should have known it would come to that."

"Yeah, you should have," a voice accompanied by approaching footsteps called out to them and made them shift their gaze downward towards the space adjacent to the rooftop entry, revealing a certain orange merc come to disturb their little session gazing upward.

"Also, what the hell are you idiots going on about this time up there?"

"Your mom," Tucker jabbed to elicit a small round of laughter along with an eye twitch and pinched brow from Felix. "Fuck, walked right into that one."

"The hell are you even doing here? We did all your hardass partner's 'assignments.'" Church asked.

"*sigh* I ask myself that constantly. Locus contacted our boss and said he needed some supplies to help us in our mission. It will be dropped off on a remote area which he will go to." He then turned towards Grif, who was sitting on the roof ventilation terminal. "Yo lardass, Locus needs the keys to the van."

"Cool, tell him to bring back some pizza."

"Just give me the damn keys!"

With not much else to do, and not really in the mood to put in the effort for an argument, Grif lazily picked them from his pocket and tossed it to the mercenary, who then rudely bid them adieu.

"Later shitfucks."

No sooner then he exited back the way he came; Tucker took a long swig from his root beer before muttering "fucking prick."

"Tell me about it," Church agreed before following his example. Being a school environment and him just a year shy from turning twenty, there were some risks he wasn't willing to take for anyone's sake, especially when they considered prison. But gods above what he wouldn't do for a good Coors or Budweiser right about now. Screw what the rules said, if he was old enough to die for his country then he was old enough for a fucking drink.

"Well don't take it out on the Sarsaparilla," Simmons replied as he lightly sipped his own bottle of gingery goodness. "In fact, I'm starting to think you've had enough."

"I will say when I've had enough," he irately responded, "as if I hadn't had enough all, fucking week. That moron just doesn't know when to quit, always perpetually up my ass, looking down on us with that snobby attitude and self-righteous face-"

"Wait, are you still angry at Schnee?" Tucker chimed in, recognizing the particular look of anger on his face and catching on that he wasn't talking about Felix.

"Of course I am! Who in their right mind would ever put up with someone so bossy, arrogant, perturbed at everything and angry at everyone, always this close to a meltdown when things don't go her way?"

"Sounds like you're pretty much describing yourself," Grif interrupted his ramblings.

"Hey fuck you! I'm nothing like that bitch!"

. . .

"Oh, go to hell all of you. I'm telling you after today that ice bitch has it out for us...

. . .

Earlier that day...

"Ah, hell yeah!" Tucker exclaimed as he glanced at the board of student rankings of the first years along with the rest of the student body at the end of their day. It had been almost a month at this point and the student's placements had been posted for all to see, to both everyone's glee and chagrin. The muttering and chattering of the students filled the grand auditorium-like hall as they flocked around the large overhead projection, some of them with smug grins plastered on their faces, others visibly seething with annoyance, and some still drooping in self-disappointment. It was quite a spectacle—one that seemed almost as important as the actual training itself. Lady luck and good fortune be with those skilled and hardworking enough to have made it near the top. To say nothing of those at the top.

"Number five, baby!" Tucker cried aloud as he puffed his chest out and grinned like a man who'd just struck gold. "I told you I'd basically be the greatest thing to happen to this school."

"Yeah, if by 'greatest' you mean 'most annoying,'" Grif replied with a mock wince, glancing at the list himself. "Isn't there a real ranking system where we see who doesn't suck at everything?"

Church raised an eyebrow and shot him a glance. "Oh, stuff it red. It's not like you're going to break into the top five anytime soon. *sigh* Not that I don't sympathize with you. Note to self, find the proctor who measured Tucker, I've got someone to choke."

Grif snorted. "Please. I'm right where I belong." He glanced down at his placement and smiled with a sense of indifferent pride. "Just at the middle echelons. No pressure. No expectations. And perfectly situated beneath the radar. It's my own safe haven."

"Yeah, well It's not just you, dumbass," Church muttered as he scanned the list with narrowed eyes until he finally came across his name at number eight, "Well it's still the top 10, I guess it could wor-" he paused mid-spiel as his gaze shifted to the name right next to his, a certain name jumping out at him like a neon sign. A name after reading it caused the air around them to freeze.

"Weiss Schnee, number eight." he let out in a voice that emanated his damned-up temper. "After all that bullshit, we went through this month and we're fucking tied?!"

"Wait—what?" Tucker asked, stepping closer. "Church... and Schnee, tied at number eight?"

The aqua trooper stood there as his fearless leader tried to process it all, the grinding of his teeth probably being heard all the way to the other side of the room. Not two minutes later the snowy-garbed heiress herself angrily stepped towards them, her heels clicking against the floor with purpose and her blue eyes narrowing the moment they landed on her unfavorable place on the leaderboard. The same eyes which then grew an indignant flame upon the name adjacent to her own.

"Are you serious?" Weiss snapped, her voice cold and furious as she approached him.

Church turned to face her. his arms crossed. "Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing."

"You!" Weiss's voice was venomous. "I can't believe not only they'd place me below the top three, but they'd put me with the likes of you!" Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "This is unacceptable."

"Yeah, believe me, the feelings are mutual, princess," Church shot back, mirroring her fury before a thought occurred to him. "But hey, we're both tied for eighth place. How's it feel? I'm sure you were hoping for that one spot ahead of me."

Weiss's eyes burned with barely contained rage. "I should be the one at the top. I earned my place here through actual work while you all had to have just scraped by on sheer luck."

"Hey, don't make me out to be the bad guy here," Church scolded. as he tried to mask the irritation creeping up his neck. "Whatever made them deem you worthy enough to enjoy the view down here with me was due to your own choices. And clearly you wouldn't understand what it's like, too busy polishing your own crown."

Church immediately regretted his retort. Her expression said it all: she had been waiting for this exact moment.

". . . Who. In the brothers' grimm. Do you think YOU ARE to judge me? ME?! As if it wasn't enough that I am the future of the most powerful company on the face of this planet, responsible for the lives of ease YOU all take for granted, but you truly think you have any ground to even breathe next to me knowing you have all thrown your lots in with the barbaric ruffians of Gulch!? You have no right, you uncouth, insipid, craven!"

By this point a crowd had gathered around them. Church contemplated a retaliation, but he stopped and thought for a moment. With all the ironies and hypocrisy in her words he decided it may be better to play it cool. Beat her at her own game.

So, he steadied himself, took a deep breath, and smirked. "Nice try skank, but the fact is we're both stuck here. Together; it doesn't matter how you spin it, Schnee. Looks like we're equally... mediocre."

A round of "ooohs" reverberated across the hall at the display, some of the students especially pleased to see the uptight rich girl getting told off. Weiss herself could only hiss in frustration, seeing that she had lost their little confrontation. She stepped even closer and narrowed her sharp, blue eyes once again, however, focusing directly on Church, who is a head taller than her and gazed down at her with an equally intense glare. Her pride refused to let herself go out on such a low note.

"You had better hope that I don't get another chance to prove to you your place. Where the likes of you truly belong," she simply said in a dangerously low voice before she turned and left with her usual ice-cold demeanor, her pristine hair bouncing slightly with each step.

"Yeah? Well, if I'm ever 'lucky' enough to be on the same mission with you, we'll see who's really better." Church got one last hit in, matching her intensity. "So just keep thinking you're the best. The real test isn't on some dumb list. I'll show you on the field." He shot her a pissed off look, not that she could see it, and moments later was rewarded with the sound of sporadic clapping and a few pats on his shoulder from some of the student body that had gathered round their little spat..

. . .

"After all that, I know, this can only end well," Church sarcastically drawled on before taking another gulp.

"Aw c'mon man, I feel like you're taking this a bit too seriously," Tucker said, raising an eyebrow as he caught sight of Church's face contorting into an exaggerated scowl. "I mean, you're at least on par with her, albeit with some advantage with survival on the field. And besides, what's she gon' do, throw her credit cards at you, afraid she might chip a nail to fight you up close?"

"*sigh* Doesn't matter," Church muttered. "I'm gonna be stuck on this list forever right next to that, that... her." He slammed a fist against the wall, cracking it. His frustration mounting as memories of her smug, perfectionist attitude flooded his mind.

Simmons, ever the voice of reason, set down his drink and tried to inject some calm into the situation. "Look, it's just a stupid ranking. It's not like anyone here is actually trying to be the next Beacon Hero or anything... well, 'cept maybe that Ruby chick."

"Oh sure, Simmons. Remember to tell me that when I'm stuck running obstacle courses next week with that, 'ice queen' looking down on us." Church grumbled. "I swear I have no idea what that blond moron sees in her."

"Wait, what?" Tucker suddenly spluttered. "Wha- since when was Yang... where did you hear-"

"No no no, the other blond you idiot!" Church irately roared back. "Ugh, gods you really are hopeless, you know that?"

Taking a moment to recompose himself (while internally sighing in relief), the subject of the statement hit him again. "What, you mean Arc?"

"Um, is there another blond, inept, hopeless idiot roaming these school halls?"

"Heh, yeah," Grif joined in, "the only other guy who's 'smoother' than you and just as attractive. Pffttt-"

Another round of chuckles reverberated from the little group, with a little more force from an oblivious Caboose, all save for Tucker himself.

"Ah, come on guys he's not that bad..."

The unimpressed stares from three of the four with him warranted a retraction.

"Okay, so I admit he does have a few screws loose."

"Heh, I'll say," Simmons blurted out. "Just yesterday he tried again at Schnee and this time she used him as a curling stone."

"Oh yeah, I remember that!" Caboose suddenly spoke up again. "That was fun, now if only she used a lot more dust. Then we could have had a winter wonderland. *gasp* It would've been like Christmas came early!"

"Yeah, case and point right there," Church stated. "And need I remind you of his wimpyness? Or have you forgotten already about the rocket-locker incident? Haha. See?! I'm still laughing at that!"

"Hey c'mon Church even I admit that was unnecessarily cruel." Grif interjected. "Hilarious, but cruel."

"You're just scared of what Sarge will come up with now after having witnessed that event himself." Simmons added.

"Of COURSE I am! Did you not see the contemplative look on his face? I swear he was seeing right through my soul ever since!"

"Not that I've noticed any difference."

"You wouldn't kissass."

"Lazy ass."

"Nerd."

"Fatso."

"Guys seriously!" Tucker called out before they could re-erupt again. "I mean it, he seems like a chill enough guy, what do you guys have against Arc?"

"Uhh, lets see," Church sarcastically began. "He's a wimp."

"He's a weakling."

"He's a pussy."

"He's really silly!"

"Weak."

"Pathetic."

"Useless.

"Incompetent."

"Dumbass."

"Clumsy! Really Clumsy!"

"A total idiot."

"Did I already say weak? Oh yeah, a total-"

"Reject?...So pretty much just like each and every one of this clusterfuck we call a group then?" Tucker spoke up finally having had enough. And his response, surprisingly, actually got the others to shut up.

"...Huh." Church finally broke the silence.

"See, if we can tolerate each other, then a guy as tame as him can't be too much trouble, for us anyway. And besides, us losers gotta stick together. Our survival depends on it, like oxpeckers and rhinos."

"Okay, one, that's a myth," Simmons annoyingly pointed out, "and two, *chuckle* what, you mean like earlier in old-man Caboose's class?"

. . .

Earlier ...again

"…Yes, well prior to the Faunus Rights Revolution, or more popularly known as the Faunus War, humankind was quite, quite, adamant about centralizing Faunus population in Menagerie." The Professor explained to his class, a large map of Remnant displayed on the board behind him with multiple notes connected by string strewn about in an orderly chaos. taking another skip of his coffee before briskly moving along with his lecture.

"Now, while this must feel like ancient history to many of you, it is imperative to remember that these are relatively recent events. Why the repercussions of the uprising can still be seen to this day." Oobleck explained as he zipped around the class from student to student, his cup of coffee never leaving his hands all the while. "Now, have any among you been subjugated or discriminated against because of your Faunus heritage?"

At this query, a couple of his students present did indeed raise their hands, including a meekly second-year faunus student with large, brown rabbit ears.

"Dreadful, simply dreadful," the doctor remarked. "Remember students, it is precisely this kind of ignorance that breeds violence." Oobleck continued, taking yet another sip of his coffee. "I mean, I mean, just look at what happened to the White Fang."

That last remark succeeded in eliciting a few scoffs or looks of concern from the sim troopers present, for multiple apparent reasons.

"Now, which one of you young scholars can tell me what many theorists believe to be the turning point in the third year of the war."

Weiss attempted to raise her hand, but was interrupted by one of the several voices that drew her deepest ire. "Um, I believe it was the battle at Fort Castle?" Doc answered a little unsteadily.

"Precisely." Oobleck responded, eliciting a glare and a scoff from the annoyed heiress. "And, who can tell me the advantage the Faunus had over General Lagune's forces?"

It was at this point the resident jock/jerk Cardin, who clearly had better things to be doing then paying attention, flicked a little paper football at the back of a snoozing Jaune's, rudely awakening the poor boy into a surprised splutter followed by a loud "Hey!"

"Mr. Arc, finally contributing to class!" Oobleck zoomed in front of him. "This is excellent! Excellent! What is the answer?"

"Uh…" Jaune droned as he was caught unawares. "The answer… The advantage the Faunus had…" It wasn't long before he noticed a sympathetic look on the guy who bested him nearly a month ago on one of the seats ahead out of the doctor's sight. Apparently, he appeared to be moving his arms reminiscent of a game of charades, before tapping what he hoped was "first word."

"Over that guy's stuff…?" He then began to circle his fingers around his eyes, before casting a flat hand adjacent to his forehead and slightly swaying side to side, as though he were looking to the horizons. "...was that they could see . . .

Tucker responded with a tap to the nose, apparently getting it right, before motioning "second word" and then made an obscuring gesture with his fingers and hands around her eyes. The puzzled look on Jaune's face alerted Tucker to the blank he was drawing, which in turn he rolled his eyes and tried to be a little more obvious, now bringing his hands against his eyes and completely closing them, before momentarily slightly shifting his fingers to give them a small opening.

". . . with their eyes closed!"

His response was a chorus of laughter throughout the class, most especially Cardin and a few of the sim troopers, while those who didn't merely scoffed or shook their heads. A sympathetic Pyrrha disjointedly facepalmed along with them, while Tucker himself exasperatedly rested his head deeper into his hands. Well, he was this close.

"Very funny, Mr. Arc." Oobleck scolded sarcastically before he zoomed back to his desk, stealing yet another sip from his caffeinated beverage. "Cardin, perhaps you would care to share your thoughts on the subject."

"Well, I know it's a lot easier to train an animal than a soldier." Cardin said, causing Oobleck to shake his head along with several looks of disapproval from the present Reds, especially after the trouble they went through earlier for him and his lackeys' team.

"You're not the most open-minded of individuals, are you Cardin?" Pyrrha narrowed her eyes at him.

"What? You got a problem?" He questioned.

"Well, I know I do," Tucker interjected, drawing gazes from the class now on him. "And you know what? I think you do too."

Cardin, now angrily riled up, spared no time to bite back. "I dare you to come down here and say that to my face, sympathizer trash!"

"Oh, I would, but I think I'm quite comfortable up here. But by all means, you want me to whoop your ass again, then please do come-"

"Enough!" Oobleck put an end to their spat. "I have already warned you all that I will not have my class erupt into chaos again. Now cease at once!"

While the doctor's words got them to stop verbally slapping each other, it didn't bring their glares at one another and calmer.

"Well then Mr. Tucker," the energetic doctor abruptly whizzed up to the newly-startled teen. "Since you seem to be rather into it this fine morning, perhaps you may be so kind as to answer the question?"

"...Uh, right." Tucker began to stammer out. "Uh, I remember reading, uh, some...thing about them being able to see well at night. And, uh, that general whatshisface tried to get them during the night. And the long and short of it, he royally fucked up?"

The Dr. merely stared at the anxious trooper, while Pyrrha and Blake redirected their stares in slight surprise.

"...Crudely put, but essentially, yes!" Oobleck finally acknowledged. "Most faunus are known for their nearly impeccable sense of night vision, and when General Lagune made the foolish mistake to attack them in their sleep, his army was swiftly defeated by the great odds and he himself was captured. *sips* Not bad Mr. Tucker."

Tucker let out a sigh of relief at that. "Heh, well what can I say? Animals really are harder to train the soldiers," he then let out, directed at Cardin particularly, which once again got to him as he rose from his seat ready to make due on Tucker's earlier proposal.

Or at least, he would've had Oobleck not reprimanded "Mr. Winchester, please take your seat," along with a placating hand placed across his shoulder from behind, the source being a bored Grif, whose expression clearly read "just let it go man."

"You and Mr. Arc can both see me after class for additional readings," he zoomed toward a snickering Jaune, leaving him now groaning before resuming his lecture."

. . .

"Y'know you guys were welcome to have stepped in at any point," Tucker announced as he recollected the event in question.

"Eh, seemed like too much work."

"I answered his question earlier."

"Look Tucker, the way I see it, you gotta pick and choose your battles," Church replied. "Reminds me of a saying I once heard: 'not my monkey, not my circus.'"

"Yeah, I'm with the Blue on this one," Grif chimed in. "I get you guys ain't exactly all fine and dandy with CRDL, but since when was Arc your problem?"

"He's not a problem. He's just a chill guy who looks like he could use a wingman."

"Uh, isn't that what teams are for, they're all friends?"

"Are you saying we're all friends?"

"Touche, but my point still stands, they all at least seem chummy with each other."

"You know Grif, I'm surprised you can't see it either," Simmons then chimed in. "There's something off about that guy. I mean he's a bigger screw up/basket case than us, and he's the one who has lived here his whole life."

"Uh, I just figured he's a constant fuck up, what else is new?"

"What the nerd is trying to say is he thinks Arc is hiding something," Church clarified. "And whatever it is, it's clearly weighing down. I mean honestly, it's a miracle he even got accepted here to begin with when the guy is worse than us, and that's saying something."

"All the more reason for us to cut the guy some slack I say."

The group gave Tucker their full attention upon his declaration, the guy clearly serious this time.

"...Look guys, I get it, he's definitely a basket case among us basket cases-"

"Either that, or he's a really bad spy."

"But we're not spies Caboose, or agents. We're officers; soldiers on a mission to mend relations with our old enemies. And already we've spent a month here and I really don't think these are bad people-

"That is up for debate."

"-okayish, these guys are 'okayish' people. Don't you think we should start mending some relations on a more personal level too? I know we usually don't really give a shit about much of what goes on in our lives, but this isn't Blood Gulch any more, this is the real world. Where people don't get turned into ghosts, or travel into the future, or have sex with aliens, or anything that we've ever put up with back in our little pocket of un-reality... This is serious, what we do this time is gonna matter, and I for once would like my legacy to be more than a stash of porn mags and a couple cheap pick-up liners with a monotonous catchphrase. So yeah, I'm sticking up for Jaune, 'cause he needs a friend, a wingman, a guy he can count on. And until he gets his act together and finally becomes a real part of his team, then I guess it might as well be me. And if you got a problem with that, note you've literally got a whole shit ton of other things to be pissed off at."

He punctuated his little spiel with another chug to his beer, all while the others merely stood there in silence.

And they all just stood like that for a few moments, letting the aqua trooper's words sink in. Could he have actually been onto something?

"Wow. That was obnoxiously hammy and cheesy."

Or maybe not… The whole speech didn't seem to get through their minds

"Dude, you were a few paragraphs away from completely kissing his ass."

Church's comment got a few snickers from Grif and Simmons.

Before Tucker could say something back, they were suddenly knocked from their stupor at the sound of the entry door rattling again. Thinking it was Felix come back to harass them again, Tucker walked to the edge of the bulkhead they were situated on to tell him to buzz off when an unexpected sight stayed his voice.

Jaune leaned against the railing, staring out at the horizon. "Pyrrha, I know I'm going through a hard time right now, but I'm not that depressed," he said, his voice dull and distant. "I can always be a farmer or something..."

Pyrrha's eyes widened with horror, and she dashed forward without thinking. "N-n-no!" she exclaimed, her voice sharp as she reached out to push Jaune away from the edge. "That's not why I brought you up here!"

Jaune blinked, taken aback by her reaction. He looked at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Pyrrha took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Jaune, I know you're having a difficult time in class and that you're still not the strongest of fighters, so..." She hesitated, her gaze softening. "I want to help you."

Jaune turned toward her, (still) caught in the haze of his frustration/confusion. "Wh-what?

"We can train up here after class, where no one can bother us," Pyrrha offered, her voice filled with sincere intent.

Jaune blinked, the frustration in his chest flaring. "You think I need help?" he asked, his tone betraying a mixture of confusion and bitterness, with a slight twinge of hurt.

"N-no! No, that's not what I meant," Pyrrha stammered, trying to correct herself.

Jaune's expression darkened, his shoulders tense. "But you just said it."

Pyrrha hesitated, clearly caught off guard by his response. "Jaune, everybody needs a little push from time to time. It doesn't make you any different from the rest of us," she said gently, taking a step closer. "You made it to Beacon! That speaks volumes of what you're capable of."

Jaune's gaze faltered, and he slowly turned away from her. His voice dropped, barely above a whisper. "You're wrong. I-I don't belong here."

Pyrrha's breath nearly caught in her throat, almost not knowing how to respond. "That's a terrible thing to say! Of course you do!" she protested.

Jaune's eyes snapped back to her, a flash of anger crossing his features. "No, I don't!" he shouted. The words spilled out in a rush, his frustration finally bubbling to the surface. "I wasn't really accepted into Beacon... I didn't go to combat school; I didn't pass any tests. I didn't earn my spot at this Academy!" He paused, looking away again, as if he couldn't bear to face her. "I lied! I got my hands on some fake transcripts, and I lied!"

Hearing that proclamation caused Tuckers eyes to widen in shock. Well, that did explain his crappy abilities but come one. What the blond just said was equal to terms of suicide.

Pyrrha took a step back, her eyes wide with disbelief. "What? But... why?"

Jaune's voice grew louder, more strained with each word. "'Cause this is always what I've wanted to be!" he said, his anger making his voice crack. "My father, my grandfather, and his father before him were all warriors! They were all heroes! I wanted to be one, too. I was just never good enough."

Pyrrha's heart broke at the raw pain in his words. She took another step toward him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "Then let me help you!"

Jaune spun around, his frustration reaching a boiling point. His eyes burned with a mix of anger and hurt. "I don't want help!" he snapped. "I don't want to be the damsel in distress! I want to be the hero!"

Pyrrha flinched at the force of his words, but she didn't back down. "Jaune, I—"

"I'm tired of being the lovable idiot, stuck in the tree while his friends fight for their lives!" Jaune's voice trembled with emotion. "Don't you understand? If I can't do this on my own... then what good am I?"

Pyrrha reached out for him, her hand outstretched, but Jaune recoiled, stepping back from her touch. He lowered his gaze, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Just... leave me alone. Okay?"

Pyrrha's heart ached as she stared at him, her hand hanging in the air. She bowed her head, her face falling with sadness. "If that's what you think is best..." she whispered softly before turning away. Her footsteps echoed in the silence as she walked off the roof, leaving Jaune alone with his thoughts. He stood motionless for a long while, tired and yet restless, the weight of his words hanging in the air. The feeling of isolation gnawed at him.

After witnessing the entire event unfold, Tucker felt very conflicted inside. Hearing what Jaune just revealed made him upset, especially with how he treated Pyrrha when she was offering help, but was a bit sympathetic as well because it seemed like a mater of pride for the leader of JNPR, and the legacy that forever shadows him.

"So, the idiot's a fraud huh?"

The aqua member of the Blues turned to his teammates who had heard everything.

"That shit alone was better than all of the soap operas I've ever watched" Grif continued as he pulled a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. "I gotta admit, that's a pretty ballsy move coming from that guy."

Simmons however shook his head. "Well, I think it's a shit move. What he's doing is basically criminal."

The member of the Blues was already starting to get upset on Jaune's behalf.

"Okay that's enough. Aren't we also basically doing the same thing? We're infiltrators for crying out loud" he exclaimed.

Simmons then tried to placate him. "Woah man, just saying. Yeah, that's true, we are technically in the same boat. But we're on a mission, here in the service and stead of everyone back home and everyone else here too. He, is only herein the service of himself regardless of just whom it may affect."

"But still-

"But still", Church cut him off, "it doesn't explain what he's doing is alright. That moron is basically having a death wish in his stupid journey to be a hero."

Church then stood and looked at Vale's skyline in the distance. It was quite a nice view, blending well with the night sky above them.

"We're not perfect", he continued, "pretty far from it. But even the worst ones of us still had some basic training on what to do in case shit hits the fan. He needs to learn the hard way if he really wants to be a huntsman so bad." He then turned to face Tucker.

"I don't know why you're so profound on coddling and defending him. Must be because you two are fucking Casanovas and must stick together. But you gotta pound some sense into that fool if you want him to survive. Because if he dies on the field, I'd worry for his teammates, worse the civilians they're trying to defend if he ever graduates from this damned institution."

After his rant, he was met with silence. And after a while, Tucker could only grin at the Blue leader's frustrations.

"Aww, so you do care" he teased.

Church spluttered and tried to deny, much to the humor of Grif and Simmons who were failing to hold their smirks. But before they could poke fun at Church, they could hear a mocking laughter and a new voice enter to the scene. The troopers then peered to where Tucker was observing the argument earlier.

"Oh, Jaune..."

Jaune spun around, startled, to see Cardin Winchester poking his form above the line of the roof, having must've apparently hoisted himself from his dorm window.

"Cardin!" Jaune shouted, his voice sharp with surprise and surmounting horror.

Cardin's grin widened. "I couldn't help but overhear you two from my dorm room," he said, his tone oozing with mockery. "So, you snuck into Beacon, huh? I gotta say, Jaune, I never expected you to be such a rebel!"

Jaune's eyes widened in panic, his heart pounding. "Please, Cardin, please, don't tell anyone!"

Tucker tried to intervene but Church grabbed his shoulder, shaking his head saying that this wasn't the time yet.

Cardin shrugged nonchalantly. "Jaune, come on! I'd never rat on a friend like that."

Jaune's voice wavered. "A... a friend?"

Cardin leaned down, trapping Jaune in a headlock with surprising ease. "Of course! We're friends now, Jauney boy!" He pulled Jaune closer, the pressure making Jaune gasp for air, but Cardin's grip remained firm. "And the way I see it, as long as you're there for me when I need you, we'll be friends for a long time."

Cardin released Jaune with a grunt, allowing him to stagger back, gasping for breath. Jaune collapsed slightly, rubbing his neck where the headlock had left its mark.

Cardin smirked, leaning down once more. "That being said, I really don't have time to do those extra readings Dr. Oobleck gave us today. Think you could take care of that for me, buddy?" He gave Jaune's hair a rough ruffle before straightening up. "That's what I thought."

Jaune stared up at Cardin, unable to speak. Cardin glanced over his shoulder with a grin.

"Don't worry, Jaune," Cardin said, his tone dripping with mock sweetness. "Your secret's safe with me."

With a final chuckle, Cardin disappeared back into his dorm room, leaving Jaune alone on the rooftop.

"...Okay, now this is just pathetic." Church exclaimed at the latest display he had to endure.

"You guys do this, I'll handle Cardin. I could convince him to take it easy on the blond doofus" Grif said. His suggestion surprising the group and he was met with curios stares.

"Trust me on this because it looks like Arc is in dire need of a savior right now."

After that, he went back inside the dorms to tail the leader of CRDL. The remaining troopers stood in silence, not knowing what to do. Simmons then coughed to get their attention and offered his thoughts.

"I'll just, take Caboose back inside. It's the best move for me. I'm not particularly close with Arc and have no idea what I can say. And do I even need to ask what Caboose will just make from all of this? You two handle this."

"Just don't tell anyone about what happened. Jaune's situation is going to be everyone's new headline this time and I can't deal with another drama this early into the school year." Tucker pleaded.

"Oh, I'm well ahead you on that. Come on Caboose, let's just get you some ice cream." Simmons said as he walked away, Caboose obediently following him at the mention of his favorite desert.

"You had me at ice cream" the dumb Blue proclaimed.

Now it was just Tucker and Church. The two shared a look as Church let out a sigh of frustration.

"Can't believe I'm about to fucking do this" he muttered as he grabbed a cig that was offered to him by Grif earlier in his pocket, lighting it and taking a puff. He then hopped off from where he was and landed next to Jaune, startling the boy who let out a yelp of surprise.

"So, fake transcripts, right?"

Jaune even looked more mortified from hearing that. Just how many have heard his confession? He was in so much deep shit right now.

"How many more have heard me?" he asked with trepidation.

"You're lucky it was just us." Church replied as he nodded to Tucker's direction. The latter also let his presence be known.

Jaune stared at the cigarette at Church's fingers, choosing to comment on that as a change of topic.

"You know, smoking is banned here on campus. Miss Goodwitch is going to have a fit when she sees you with that."

"And what you're doing is supposed to be better?" Church retorted, shutting the blond boy up. "Are you really that desperate to resort to this type of shit? Because what you're doing is a whole another type of fuckery."

Jaune was pissed hearing that. "You don't understand-

"Oh, can it with the fucking sob story, jackass! It's you who doesn't understand what's going on. What will you do if you get found out? You'd be the most hated guy on Beacon. Even way more hated than us, and get expelled. If the feds will know, you'd get a free ticket to the gray bar hotel on the lame excuse of wanting to be a hero by forging false documents. And what of your family? How would they feel if they heard their son passed away in a tragic accident because he can't keep up with the rigorous challenges of becoming a huntsman?"

The Arc scion stood still. Everything he said was so true. It fucking stung, but that was reality. There's no sugarcoating it. Church straight up gave him a harsh dose of what he was failing to see in his blind determination to be a good huntsman.

"He's got a point you know?" Tucker spoke up as he approached the disheartened blond.

Tucker took a moment to get serious as Jaune turned an expectant eye towards him. "*sigh*...Look, you fucked up, there's no denying that. Majorly fucked up; you put yourself in a precarious position that you were severely underqualified for reasons that, while sweet on paper, were in practice rather retarded. Like, really-"

A whine of discomfort abruptly signaled for the aqua trooper to get to the point, as well as the somewhat menacing glare behind him.

"-*ahem* What I'm tryna say is, well, you're not the only one in that boat, sinking as it may be."

That at least got the despondent blond beneath him to turn his head up towards him, a slightly confused expression with the smallest embers of hope possibly returning to his eyes. A good sign Tucker took to continue.

"Yeah man, believe it or not, pretty much all of us in our little 'troops' of chaos and crass put ourselves at least partly because we wanted to do our homes proud. Or at the very least some of us had someone back home we wanted safe; someone counting on us, and just who were we to let them down now?"

Tucker now had Jaune's full attention, his self-pity now replaced by genuine interest, a que Church took to step back in.

"And as gutsy and stupid as your fraud stunt is, we honestly went through even more fuck-ups and bad decisions in all our little 'adventures' that we couldn't even count them all if you paid us. Way more than physically and mentally healthy anyway."

Tucker let out a little chuckle at his leader's words.

"The real kicker is nothing has changed, just look at us right now!"

A lone chuckle morphed into a set of genuine laughter. Even Jaune couldn't help but lightly join in the two and their honestly morbid sense of humor.

"*heheh*... Well, if that's the case, then how the heck are you guys standing?"

"Well, you've seen us all in action, what do you think?"

"You guys don't take crap from anyone."

"That's guess number one."

"...You guys roll with the punches?"

"You're getting warmer bud."

Jaune pondered extra-long before it seemed to finally click. ". . . You guys never stay down."

"See, you do have something in that cantaloupe of yours." Church confirmed before his teammate decided to continue.

"All our lives, every time something came to knock us down or stand in our way, we either brought them down or gave it the finger. Typically, both at the same time.

"And you," he turned to fully face Jaune, "you are here to become a warrior. A soldier. A huntsman. No one ever said it was going to be easy, and don't think it'll get any easier once you graduate. And that's why you have to be bigger, better, stronger. But you don't have to do this alone."

Jaune seemed to take understanding in Tucker's words before his worries returned. "But Cardin said-"

"Screw Cardin man." Tucker interrupted. "The world is full of arrogant pricks with nothing better to do with their time than be total assholes. So, don't be their punching bag. Or at least, don't let yourself be their punching bag. And also, don't become one yourself."

"What, a punching-"

"An arrogant prick dumbass! Don't think we didn't see how you treated that Pyrrha chick. Seriously, back home guys like you would literally kill to get with a girl like that, and you just rejected her. Add to that she's your own teammate and partner. You showed a jerk's defining attributes."

"And, uh, that would be?"

"Weakness," Church stepped forth once again. "Every time an asshole is an asshole, it's because he's weak. He's a wimp, a coward, or probably compensating for something. It takes strength, real strength to not be like them. To stand up to them and to know when you're down on your luck and need some help every now and then."

While Jaune couldn't help but flinch slightly at the blue leader's words, he did also feel a sense of genuineness from the guy. One he couldn't help but even slightly uplifted at.

"You know it was once said," Tucker piqued back in, "that the man who never accepted help once in his life lived a rather poor and short one, thankfully preventing him from spreading his ways to others."

"You just made that up."

"Yes, I did. But it still proves my point."

"How, you just made-"

"The point is," Tucker punctuated with an air of finality to his leader before turning back to the blonde leader, now placing both hands upon his shoulders. "Just… think about what we've said tonight. It takes strength for anyone to get anywhere in this world. Strength and balls to succeed. Strength to pass with the bare minimum. Strength to tell someone to fuck off your back… Strength, to know when you're beat and get some help when you could really use it."

Jaune could only stand there and register everything that had happened in the last twenty or so minutes. Could these guys be right? Being sorry for himself certainly wasn't going to get him out of his mess, but all Cardin had to do was say a few words to a few certain someone's and that was it for him… so if he was left with a dead end either way, maybe the best move really was to face his end with dignity…

While he contemplated, the two of CCFL took their leave and finally began towards the roof entrance themselves and back to their dorm. That is, until Jaune called back for them right as they opened said doors.

"Tucker, wait!"

The beckoned trooper expectantly turned once more to the guy, who still stood at the center of the roof, a myriad mix of emotions playing through his eyes.

"...What if I just can't… what if I'm just not good enough?"

As weak as his response was, Tucker just couldn't leave him hanging, not with that look in his eyes. He turned his head to his leader once more, who responded with a disagreeing notion by shaking his head and rolling his eyes, before promptly ignoring him and turning back to Arc one last time.

"Well, it's also said that the first step to not being afraid is acting like you're not afraid. So, maybe the first step to being strong is acting like it too."

". . . You, want me to, 'fake it till I make it?'"

Tucker merely responded with a grin and three words before finally disappearing behind the dual doors.

"Good night Jaune."

And with that, the only son of the Arc family was left alone on the roof with nothing but his thoughts and contemplations for the third time that night. In spirits not quite jubilantly high, but certainly better than the state he was in moments ago in this wild ride of a night.

…Maybe Tucker was right. Maybe, it finally was time for a change.

END

Thanks again to Agent K-47 in helping me write this chapter.