FLASHBACK - COURTYARD
Yang stood frozen, staring at the pool of blood where Ruby had lain before the medics rushed her away. Her hands clenched into trembling fists.
A gentle touch on her shoulder pulled her from the trance. Blake knelt beside her, voice soft but firm.
"She's going to be okay, Yang."
Yang turned to her, eyes distant, searching.
"She's always been tough," Blake continued, offering the smallest of smiles. "Even at the worst of times."
Yang swallowed hard and nodded, her gaze shifting forward. There, lined up on the ground, were three still bodies—Ashe, Hazel, and Ash. White sheets draped over them, concealing everything but the unmistakable truth beneath.
"We weren't ready," Yang muttered, barely above a whisper. She turned back to Blake, her voice steadier but no less pained. "We didn't see this coming."
Blake inched closer, wrapping her arms around her.
"None of us did."
The quiet was shattered by the sound of a door creaking open.
Yang and Blake lifted their heads just as Nora stumbled forward, eyes wide with horror. She collapsed to her knees, the weight of the moment knocking the breath from her lungs. Ren was at her side instantly, pulling her into his arms as her sobs tore through the silence.
Yang's chest tightened as she followed Nora's gaze.
Jaune stood in the doorway, frozen in
place. His face was pale, his expression unreadable, but his arms—his arms carried a small, lifeless body.
Neo.
He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his movements eerily steady. He didn't speak, didn't break, until he reached his team. Kneeling down, he carefully laid Neo's body on the ground.
His hands hovered over her face, hesitating for a moment before gently closing her still-open eyes. The pink and brown irises vanished beneath his fingertips.
For the first time since entering the courtyard, Jaune let out a shaky breath.
And then, he lowered himself over her, pressing a final, lingering kiss to her forehead.
Weiss knelt beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. When he turned to her, the grief in his eyes cracked whatever was left of his composure.
She pulled him into a tight embrace.
Jaune clung to her, sobbing into her shoulder. Weiss held him, silent tears slipping down her cheeks.
Blake and Yang watched, neither knowing what to say.
"We're being torn apart again," Blake murmured. "What do we do now?"
Yang didn't answer right away. The sadness in her eyes flickered, replaced by something else. Something hotter.
She gritted her teeth, fists tightening.
She was done feeling helpless.
1 WEEK LATER - DINER
The diner was nearly empty, save for a lone couple quietly enjoying their meal in a booth by the window. The soft hum of an old radio filled the space, blending with the occasional clatter of dishes from the kitchen.
The entrance door creaked open, and the small bell attached to it jingled.
A hooded figure stepped inside.
Pyrrha pulled her green hood tighter over her head, her eyes scanning the room. To her left, a framed picture caught her attention. It was of an elderly man, the same one who had once given her a loaf of bread when she needed it most.
The name below the photograph read: Adrian Forrest.
"Ahem."
Pyrrha turned toward the counter, where the same old man—Adrian—stood, gesturing for her to sit. His warm smile was the same as she remembered.
She hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and settling onto one of the stools.
Adrian turned without a word, picking up a plate stacked with steaming eggs and crispy bacon. He set it down in front of her.
Pyrrha blinked in confusion.
"I—I don't have any money," she admitted, instinctively reaching for her pockets.
Adrian simply waved a hand. "It's on the house."
Her stomach growled loudly, betraying her hunger. She hesitated but eventually picked up the fork. The first bite was almost overwhelming—the warmth of the food, the simple kindness behind it. She hadn't realized how much she needed it.
Minutes passed in silence as she ate, savoring every bite. When she finally placed the fork down on the empty plate, Adrian took it and set it aside before pulling up a stool to sit across from her.
Pyrrha smiled softly. "Thank you… but I have to ask. Why? Why help me? I'm just a stranger to you."
Adrian chuckled, shaking his head. "You're no stranger to me, Miss Nikos."
Pyrrha stiffened, her eyes widening. She quickly glanced at the couple in the booth—they hadn't noticed the conversation. Lowering her voice, she turned back to Adrian.
"How do you know who I am?"
Instead of answering right away, Adrian reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, well-worn wallet. From inside, he retrieved a photograph and slid it across the counter.
Pyrrha hesitated before picking it up.
Her breath hitched.
The photo showed a younger Adrian, standing beside a man with auburn hair and green eyes, a woman with striking red hair and blue eyes—her parents. But there was another figure, a fourth teammate, though their face had been deliberately whitened out with marker.
She swallowed. "You… you knew my parents?"
Adrian nodded. "I did. We were teammates at Haven Academy—Team CACH." His expression turned nostalgic. "We thought we were invincible back then. We were… pretty damn good."
Pyrrha ran her fingers over the image, a ghost of a smile forming. "And this woman here?" she asked, pointing to the erased face.
Adrian's smile faltered. His voice lowered. "We don't talk about her."
Pyrrha looked up at him, searching his expression. "Why not?"
Adrian met her gaze, his tone grim. "Let's just say… she turned on us after graduation. Took a darker path. One none of us could follow."
"Oh." Pyrrha shifted in her seat. "I'm sorry."
"Ah, it's fine," Adrian sighed, rubbing his temple. "She's gone now. Or at least, I hope so. That thought alone gives us some relief."
He carefully tucked the photo away again, his posture relaxing.
"But enough about the past." His eyes sharpened as he leaned slightly closer. "Let's talk about you. Specifically… how you're sitting here in front of me when, by all accounts, you should be buried in Mistral, next to your family."
The words hit Pyrrha like a cold wind.
She inhaled sharply.
The warmth of the diner suddenly felt much smaller.
Pyrrha's breath caught in her throat.
"They… they had a funeral for me?"
Adrian nodded, watching as the couple near the window stood up to leave. Once the door swung shut behind them, he spoke a little louder.
"I was there. So yeah. Crimson wanted it, even though there wasn't a body to bury." He paused, studying her reaction before continuing. "Hazel told me about that Arc kid you took a fancy to. He was there, too. Placed a bundle of flowers on your coffin."
Pyrrha lowered her gaze, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter. "Jaune… How… how did he look?"
Adrian let out a slow breath. "He was a mess, kid. Stared at your grave for hours. Didn't say a word. Then he just… collapsed. Like everything in him just broke all at once."
A sharp breath hitched in Pyrrha's throat as she clutched her head, fingers tangling in her hair. Tears spilled down her cheeks, dripping onto the counter. "It's my fault."
Adrian frowned. "What do you mean, it's your fault?"
Pyrrha squeezed her eyes shut. "I didn't want Jaune to get hurt or die because of me when Beacon was attacked." Her voice cracked. "I sent him away. I made him leave… and I fought Cinder Fall alone. The biggest mistake of my life."
Adrian folded his arms, watching her carefully. "Which brings us back to my question." His tone was firm, but not unkind. "How are you still alive?"
Pyrrha sucked in a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes.
"Salem faked my death. She kept me locked away in one of her fortresses for months before shoving me inside a mirror. I was their prisoner for three years."
Adrian's brows lifted in surprise. "But you escaped?"
Pyrrha nodded. "I managed to get out and ended up at a base—Jaune was there. I saw him just before he passed out, but before he did… he said my name." A small, bittersweet smile crossed her face. "After all these years, he finally unlocked his Semblance. Made me proud of him."
Her smile faded. "I wanted to see him, to explain everything. But… he found someone else. I didn't want to come between them, so I left. Since then, I've been wandering around Vale, scavenging for food. I…" She hesitated, looking down at her hands. "I may have stolen some, too. And I'm ashamed of that."
Adrian studied her for a moment before speaking. "Then why don't you just go home? Your parents would be thrilled to see you alive."
Pyrrha's expression darkened. She looked away, her voice quieter. "I'm not ready to be seen. Not yet. I don't want Jaune or my family to know about me… at least, not right now. When I tell them, it'll be on my own terms."
Adrian nodded in understanding. "I can respect that." He glanced at the tattered, dirt-streaked cloak draped over her shoulders and sighed. "Tell you what. I've got a spare room upstairs. You can stay there as long as you need."
Pyrrha blinked. "You're serious? I'd expect you to want something in return."
Adrian smirked. "Hmm. Maybe just one thing."
He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, scribbled something on it, then slid it across the counter. Pyrrha took it and read the address written on it.
"Meet me here tomorrow morning at seven. I'll explain then. But for now…" He gave her a once-over. "You look like you could use a bath."
Pyrrha raised an eyebrow before lifting her arm and sniffing under it. She immediately cringed, scrunching up her nose.
"Yeah. Definitely."
HOSPITAL ROOM
Ruby sat on the edge of her hospital bed, her gaze fixed on the floor. Slowly, she lifted her right leg, revealing a sleek prosthetic, attached just below the knee. It was painted red and black, customized with her signature rose emblem.
She flexed the foot, testing its movement, ensuring it worked perfectly. Lifting her leg higher, she noticed an engraving near the joint.
Property of Atlas.
"Really?" she muttered in disbelief.
A quiet chuckle made her turn. Yang was sitting nearby, arms crossed—both her flesh and metal limbs mirroring each other.
"That was my reaction when I got my first arm," Yang said with a smirk. She glanced at her own prosthetic, flexing her fingers. "You think I should get mine painted?"
Ruby didn't answer. She just turned back to her leg, her expression unreadable.
Yang's smirk faded.
"Ruby, talk to me. You've been quiet and distant ever since the surgery."
"I have been silent since the surgery, yes," Ruby admitted. "But I've been sad for a long time, Yang. And now? Now I'm angry after hearing that Neo was murdered."
Yang's gaze dropped to the floor. "And your leg?"
"It was a shock when I first saw… what was left of it. But now that I have this—" Ruby tapped the metal surface, "—I feel a little better. But at the same time, it's like…" She hesitated.
"Like your leg is still there," Yang finished.
Ruby nodded. "Why do I feel this way?"
"It's called Phantom Limb," Yang explained. "Your brain still thinks the missing part is there. You probably feel like your toes are wiggling, right?"
Ruby let out a small chuckle. "Yeah."
Her smile didn't last long.
"Ruby," Yang said, hesitating before continuing. "Can I ask you something?"
Ruby glanced at her sister and nodded. "Sure."
"Have you… thought about rejoining?"
Ruby frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean coming back," Yang said firmly. "Just because we lost a battle—just because we lost people—doesn't mean we're giving up." She leaned forward, voice steady but urgent. "Ironwood is assigning us to a base here in Atlas. We're regrouping, preparing for the next fight against Cinder, Torchwick, and the Dark Seekers. Most of us are still in. Well… everyone except you, Jaune, and Velvet."
Ruby frowned, confusion clear on her face. "Velvet? What happened with her?"
Yang let out a quiet sigh. "She left, Rubes. Went back home to Patch. Her mom's funeral is tomorrow."
Ruby's expression softened. "Oh…"
"Me and Blake are going. Weiss and the others too. Everyone except for Coco."
Ruby's brow furrowed. "Coco?"
Yang nodded grimly. "Yeah. She… got wasted last night while you were in surgery. She lost it—started screaming at Velvet, maybe even hit her once." She shook her head. "I guess losing her father just… broke her."
Ruby looked down at the floor, her fingers tightening against the mattress. "I could go, too. To Patch. I want to be there for Velvet."
Yang nodded. "Okay. I'll make a call, let her know you're coming." She studied Ruby for a moment before leaning forward. "But you still haven't answered my question. Are you going to rejoin us? To fight?"
Ruby stared at the ground for a long moment before shaking her head. "No."
Yang's eyes narrowed. "No?"
"Not yet, at least," Ruby clarified. "I'm… I'm going back home. Jaune's staying there too."
Yang frowned. "Why?"
Ruby hesitated, taking a deep breath. "Jaune is sad. Depressed. And angry. And as his best friend, I promised I'd stay by his side. Help him get through this." Her voice was quiet but firm. "After a while, if we decide we're ready… we'll come back and fight. But if we don't, then… we don't."
Yang exhaled slowly, nodding as she processed Ruby's words. "I see." She looked down, rubbing the back of her neck. "Well… I don't agree with it. But I won't argue about it either." She reached over, resting a hand on Ruby's shoulder. "Take your time. Help Jaune through this. I won't get in the way."
Ruby nodded. "Thanks, Yang. And just because I'm not rejoining you guys right now doesn't mean I'm sitting this out. If you ever need me—any of you—just call. I'll be there."
Yang gave a small nod. "Alright."
She stood up and made her way to the door. Just as she was about to leave, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder.
"We're going to stop Cinder, Ruby. No matter what it takes. And in the end…" Her voice hardened, her eyes burning with determination. "I'm going to kill her with my own two hands."
She stepped out, closing the door behind her.
Ruby sat there in silence for a moment, staring at her prosthetic leg. Her fingers curled into fists.
"Not if I kill her first."
Her eyes flickered with a fiery glow.
PRESENT DAY - NIGHTCLUB
The nightclub pulsed with energy, the bass reverberating through the walls as elegantly dressed patrons moved to the rhythm on the dance floor. At the bar, a man with slicked-back black hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and a sharp suit poured drinks with practiced ease.
But his hands faltered when he caught sight of the commotion near the entrance. Two of his henchmen had stepped forward, trying to block the door. His stomach dropped.
"Oh, no," Junior muttered under his breath.
But the explosive entrance he expected never came.
Instead, the nightclub doors swung open—calmly. Deliberately.
Yang strode in, her golden hair catching the neon glow of the club lights. But unlike before, there was no cocky smirk, no swagger in her step. Her expression was cold. Focused.
Behind her, Weiss and Blake followed, just as composed.
Yang stopped in front of the henchmen, who looked tense, expecting a fight. Without a word, she unstrapped Ember Celica and handed them over to one of the men. Weiss and Blake did the same with their weapons, placing them in the guard's hands.
The trio walked through the club, weaving past patrons, heading straight for the bar.
Junior swallowed hard, watching their approach. This was different. He had seen Yang cocky, seen her angry, seen her destructive. But this? This was controlled. Calculated. And that made him nervous.
Yang slid onto a stool in front of the bar. Weiss and Blake took seats beside her.
She met Junior's eyes.
"You know why I'm here," she said, her tone steady, serious.
Junior hesitated. "Uh… yeah. Sure."
Moving quickly, he grabbed a glass and started mixing the familiar drink. Within seconds, he placed a Strawberry Sunrise in front of her, complete with a tiny umbrella.
"And for them?" he asked, motioning to Weiss and Blake.
"I'll have what she's having," Weiss said.
"Same," Blake added.
Junior nodded, his fingers twitching slightly as he prepared the drinks. The weight in the air was impossible to ignore.
Something had changed.
And that made him uneasy.
After handing out the drinks, Junior leaned against the bar, eyeing Yang carefully as she downed hers in a single motion.
"So… Blondie," he said, crossing his arms. "You're looking… serious this time."
"Yep." Yang placed her glass down with a quiet clink. "Times like these, we don't have the luxury of screwing around."
As she spoke, movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. Two familiar figures approached, standing just within earshot.
The Malachite twins.
Miltia, dressed in red, tilted her head, arms crossed. "Well, well. Look at this, Melanie. The blonde actually came in without breaking anything."
"I know, right?" Melanie, in white, smirked. "Guess she finally learned how doors work."
Yang turned toward them, her expression unmoved. "That's because I finally grew up. The party girl you used to know? She's gone. Now, all you see is a mature, married woman."
The twins raised their eyebrows in surprise. Their eyes flickered down to Yang's hand, where a silver band gleamed under the neon lights. Then, their gazes shifted—Blake had the same ring on her finger.
Exchanging a glance, Miltia and Melanie simply shrugged and walked away, deciding they had nothing more to add.
Yang watched them go before motioning for Junior to sit.
"We need to talk," she said, her voice lowering.
Junior hesitated, eyeing her warily. "Uh… about what?"
Yang's gaze hardened. "Don't bullshit me, Junior."
Her voice carried just enough weight to make him flinch.
"We know you've been helping Torchwick again," she continued. "Supplying weapons, feeding him intel."
"And we came here to get the truth from you," Blake added, swirling the drink in her hand.
"Even if we have to force it out of you," Weiss said, her tone cool and sharp.
Junior swallowed, his fingers tapping against the counter. He glanced toward the twins, who were already shifting into a ready stance, but he lifted a hand, silently signaling them to back down. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly.
"Torchwick is a pain in the ass," he admitted. "Every damn week, he demands more weapons, more gear. It's getting harder and harder to keep up with what he's asking for." He shook his head. "I'm starting to hate him. And, honestly? I'm freaked the hell out."
Yang narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
Junior hesitated before looking at Blake. "His eyes…" He shuddered. "They're just—"
"Blood red?" Blake finished, her own expression darkening.
"Exactly," Junior said, rubbing his temples. "So, I made a deal with him. I give him what he needs, and in return, he doesn't burn my club to the ground or—" his voice dipped lower, his expression darkening, "—kill the Twins right in front of me."
Yang turned, her gaze shifting toward Miltia and Melanie. For the first time, the usually confident twins looked uneasy. Their guarded expressions weren't enough to hide the worry in their eyes.
Yang turned back to Junior. "Anything else?"
Junior gave a subtle nod. Without a word, the twins exchanged glances before dashing up the stairs.
Weiss tilted her head. "How they can run in those kinds of high heels still surprises me."
"And the one in white uses them as weapons, Weiss," Yang said, deadpan, before looking at Junior. "What are they getting?"
Junior leaned against the bar. "The documents you asked for. Over that call last week." He tapped the counter. "Was gonna send one of my guys to deliver them, but since you're here… might as well save myself the trouble."
"Appreciate it," Yang said. She glanced around the club, her voice lowering. "And don't worry. As long as we're careful, Torchwick and Cinder won't hear a word about this. You have my word."
Junior gave a slow nod, but before he could respond, Miltia came jogging back down the stairs, carrying a small stack of files in her hands. She wasted no time handing them over to Yang.
Junior frowned. "Where's Melanie?"
Miltia didn't look concerned. "Getting the rest."
Junior stiffened. His brow furrowed. "The rest?"
Miltia nodded. "Yeah. Torchwick gave me additional files. They were in a box."
Junior's face paled. He opened his mouth, then stopped. His eyes widened in realization.
Yang, Blake, and Weiss exchanged sharp glances.
"Shit," Yang cursed under her breath.
Without hesitation, they shot to their feet, bolting toward the henchmen guarding their weapons.
The moment they grabbed them—
BOOM.
A deafening explosion ripped through the club, shaking the walls as a shockwave of fire and debris tore through the second floor.
PATCH
Jaune sat on the couch in Ruby's living room, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely clasped together. His eyes were locked on the floor, an unmistakable tension in his expression. He barely registered the soft footsteps passing behind him—until the sound of a throat clearing pulled him from his thoughts.
He looked up to see Ruby standing in front of him, a water bottle in hand. She smiled as she held it out to him.
Jaune took it with a small, tired smile of his own. "Thanks."
"Hey, after that three-mile jog, you definitely need it," Ruby said, plopping down onto the couch beside him. "Same goes for me."
They had just returned from a run, both hoping to clear their heads, even if just for a little while.
Jaune twisted off the cap and took a long drink, the cool water refreshing after their workout.
"Jaune?"
He turned to see Ruby watching him, concern written all over her face.
"How are you feeling today?" she asked gently.
Jaune exhaled through his nose and nodded. "I'm doing okay. After the jog, I feel a little better."
Ruby gave him a knowing look. "That was more than just a jog," she said. "You spent a good five minutes punching trees in frustration."
Jaune shrugged, taking another sip. "I just needed to let off some steam."
"Yeah," Ruby muttered. "That… or you were thinking about her again."
Jaune's grip on the bottle tightened slightly. He looked down at the floor, silent for a moment before letting out a slow sigh.
"Ruby, I'm trying. Okay?" Jaune's voice was strained, his grip tightening around the water bottle. "But... I can't get the image out of my head. Seeing Neo just lying there. Seeing her body—" He swallowed hard. "The way she was killed… It's something that'll be stuck in my head forever."
Ruby shifted closer, her voice calm but firm. "Jaune, I know it's hard to move on. Especially after losing someone you love." She met his eyes. "Believe me, I know. That's why you're here, staying in this house. Well… technically, it's Yang's house now, but that's beside the point." She gave a small, fleeting smile before turning serious again. "I'm letting you stay because, one—you blew up your own house."
Jaune let out a short chuckle. "Yeah… not my best moment."
"And two," Ruby continued, "because I want you to have the space to heal. To move forward. And to remember Neo for the great times you had, not just the way she…" She trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.
Jaune exhaled slowly, nodding. "I know, Ruby. And I promise… I'll get better. I won't fall apart like I did after Pyrrha." He clenched his fist. "I'm going to get stronger. For Neo."
Ruby's smile returned. "And let me guess—an Arc never goes back on his word?"
Jaune smirked. "You got it, exactly."
A sudden ringing interrupted the moment. Ruby pulled out her Scroll, checking the message.
Her smile instantly vanished.
Got attacked. Explosions happened. Junior's Nightclub. Hurry! -Yang.
Jaune leaned forward. "Duty calls?"
Ruby let out a heavy sigh. "Yep. Wonder what Yang got herself into this time."
She stood up, heading toward the front door. "I'll be back."
Jaune watched as she stepped outside. For a moment, she stood still, looking up at the night sky. Then, with a quiet breath, she pulled up her hood and shot into the air, disappearing into the clouds.
Jaune sat there for a moment before slowly getting up. He walked toward the kitchen, opening one of the cabinets.
Inside, tucked away behind a few dishes, was a sealed bottle of alcohol.
He picked it up, staring at it in silence.
OUTSIDE NIGHTCLUB
Thick smoke billowed into the night sky, the air heavy with the scent of burning wood and scorched metal. Flames still flickered from the wreckage of what used to be Junior's nightclub, casting an eerie orange glow over the scene.
Yang sat Junior down on a nearby bench, steadying him as he coughed violently, his clothes covered in soot. His breaths were ragged, his face streaked with ash and sweat.
Blake and Weiss approached, having finished ushering the last of the survivors to safety.
"They knew we were coming," Weiss said, frustration clear in her voice. "Like they were psychic or something."
Yang clenched her fists, her teeth grinding together. "Everything we needed was in there! Now it's all burned up!"
"Yang," Blake said, placing a hand on her arm. "Please, calm down."
"I'm trying!" Yang snapped, her golden eyes flickering red for a brief second. "This is the fourth time they knew where we'd be—since the Citadel!"
"I know, Yang," Blake said, her tone steady but firm. "But yelling isn't going to—"
"Melanie?"
The three turned at the sound of Miltia's voice.
She was weaving through the crowd, panic in her wide, searching eyes.
"Melanie?"
Junior immediately straightened, his expression darkening. He pushed himself off the bench and approached Miltia, gripping her shoulders gently, speaking to her in a low voice.
Her expression shattered.
"No…" Miltia whispered.
Then, suddenly, she lunged.
"MELANIE! MELANIE!"
She tried to break past Junior, but he held her back, his arms locking around her as she thrashed wildly. She clawed at his grip, desperate to tear free.
"LET ME GO!" she screamed. "SHE'S IN THERE! MELANIE!"
Junior's grip tightened. "Miltia, listen to me—"
"NO!" She sobbed, still struggling. "MELANIE! I HAVE TO GET HER!"
Yang clenched her fists harder, her breathing uneven as she watched the scene unfold. Someone was still inside.
Someone was burning alive.
She grabbed a fistful of her hair in frustration, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.
"Yang."
Blake's voice was quiet, but urgent.
She turned to see Blake staring upward. Weiss, too.
Yang followed their gaze.
Ruby was descending from the sky, slowly hovering down with Melanie cradled in her arms.
Miltia froze mid-struggle, her entire body going slack. She collapsed to her knees, her breath caught in her throat.
Ruby met her eyes and gave a small nod—Melanie was alive. Just unconscious.
Miltia let out a choked sob of relief as Ruby knelt in front of her, carefully placing Melanie into her arms. Without hesitation, Miltia wrapped herself around her sister, holding her tightly as if afraid to ever let go again.
Ruby stood up, dusting off her cloak before turning toward her team.
She crossed her arms, giving Yang a playful smirk. "So… what did you do this time?"
Yang scoffed. "This was Cinder," she said, her voice dead serious. "I assure you, Ruby."
Ruby's smirk faded. "Ah." She turned toward the nursing building as firefighters arrived, taking over the scene. The nightclub was still smoldering, but the worst of the flames had died down. "...Okay. Oh!"
She reached into her cloak and pulled out a stack of files.
Yang's eyes widened in shock as Ruby casually handed them over.
"How did you—?"
Before she could finish, a powerful gust of wind rushed past them.
All eyes turned upward.
Willow Schnee, the Spring Maiden, hovered in the air, directing torrents of water toward the burning remains of the nightclub. The moment the water touched the flames, the fire hissed and vanished into steam.
The firefighters on the ground stared in stunned silence. Some looked relieved, others… slightly irritated, now that their job had been done for them.
As the last embers faded, Willow descended, landing gracefully beside Ruby.
"Was I late?" she asked.
Ruby shook her head. "No, Willow. Right on time."
Willow nodded, then turned—her gaze settling on Weiss.
"Weiss," she said gently. "It's okay. Just look at me."
Weiss hesitated. Her hands clenched at her sides, her posture rigid. But after a brief moment, she finally lifted her head, meeting her mother's eyes.
"Sorry, Mother," Weiss said quietly. "Reflexes, I guess."
FLASHBACK – SCHNEE MANSION
"Mom?"
Weiss's voice barely rose above a whisper.
Willow Schnee stood before her, offering a small, bittersweet smile before bowing slightly.
"Hello, Weiss," she said gently. "It's been a long time since I last saw you. You were barely learning how to summon Glyphs when I—"
"Stop."
Weiss's voice hardened as she stepped forward, closing the distance between them until only a couple of feet remained. Her hands trembled as she slowly lifted one, hesitating for only a second before pressing her fingertips against Willow's cheek.
Warm. Solid. Real.
Weiss gasped, stumbling back as if burned. Her breathing quickened, her eyes darting across her mother's features in disbelief.
"This… this isn't…" Her voice cracked. "You… you're really…"
Her chest tightened. The walls felt like they were closing in. This isn't possible.
Panic surged through her veins, and before she knew it, she turned and bolted from the kitchen.
Willow sighed and followed after her.
She rounded a corner a few seconds later, only to find Weiss standing against the wall—her hands gripping the sides of her head, tapping her forehead against the surface over and over.
"You're not real," Weiss whispered. Tap. "You're not real." Tap. "You're not real, you're not real…"
Her voice trembled as the tapping became louder. Harder.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Willow's expression fell. She rushed forward, gently grabbing Weiss's shoulders and stopping her before she could hurt herself.
"Weiss." Willow's voice was soft but firm. "Weiss. Look at me."
Weiss didn't move. Her gaze stayed locked on the floor.
Willow cupped her face, tilting it upward. "Please. Look at me."
Weiss swallowed thickly before hesitantly lifting her head, her watery blue eyes finally meeting her mother's.
"What's wrong with you?" Willow asked, genuine concern in her voice. "Is this because of me?"
Weiss nodded slowly, her hands trembling as they returned to her temples.
"I… I'm messed up, Mother," Weiss admitted, her voice barely audible.
Willow frowned, brushing a strand of hair behind Weiss's ear. "Why? How long have you been like this?"
Weiss exhaled shakily, her lips pressing into a thin line.
"Ever since Winter died."
Silence.
Willow's expression crumbled as she looked away, sorrow flickering across her face. "I… I know what happened to her." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry, Weiss."
A spark of anger flashed in Weiss's eyes. Her fists clenched at her sides.
"Are you?"
Willow's eyes widened slightly at the sudden shift in her daughter's tone.
Weiss took a step forward, her voice sharper now, her emotions threatening to overflow.
"Are you really sorry, Mother?" Weiss's voice shook, but it wasn't with sadness—it was pure, raw anger. "For once in my life, am I actually hearing that you care?"
"Weiss—"
"Don't speak!" Weiss snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut like glass.
Willow flinched, silenced by the sheer force of her daughter's rage.
"You never stopped him from hurting Winter and me!" Weiss shouted, her hands balling into fists. "You never cared when I accomplished anything—not once did you show any pride in me!" Her breaths were coming faster, hotter, her body trembling. "And you tried to force me into Atlas, just so you wouldn't have to deal with me! And now—now—all of a sudden, you want me to believe you care?"
"I've always cared, Weiss," Willow said, her voice soft but pleading.
"If you truly did," Weiss growled, eyes burning with unshed tears, "then you should have been there." Her voice cracked. "You should have been there after Winter died. You could've at least come to her funeral. But you weren't. You weren't there!"
"But that doesn't mean I didn't grieve," Willow whispered. Her shoulders slumped as she looked at the floor. "That doesn't mean I didn't mourn for her."
"AND SO DID I!" Weiss screamed. Her breathing was ragged now, her heart pounding against her ribs. "I WANTED TO RUN AWAY FROM IT ALL AFTER SHE DIED! I wanted to forget! But I stayed!"
Her chest rose and fell as fresh, hot tears streaked down her cheeks.
"I stayed," Weiss said through clenched teeth, her voice breaking, "because I cared! Unlike you!"
The words hit Willow like a punch to the stomach.
For the first time, the proud and composed Willow Schnee looked utterly shattered.
Weiss wiped her tears away furiously before raising a trembling finger toward the door.
"Get out."
Willow's eyes widened. "Weiss—"
"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
The room fell silent.
Willow stood there, stunned, her mouth slightly open as if searching for words that wouldn't come.
Slowly, her hands pulled up the hood of her cloak, shadowing her face.
She turned on her heel and walked toward the door, each step slow, hesitant.
As she reached the exit, she stopped—just for a moment—and looked back at Weiss one last time.
Weiss didn't move. She stood rigid, her body still trembling, her gaze locked on the floor.
Willow sighed, then walked out.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Weiss let out a slow, shuddering breath. Her legs suddenly felt weak, too weak.
She barely made it back to the kitchen before collapsing into a chair.
She stared at the ground, numb.
Her fingers dug into her palms as she tried to steady herself, tried to hold back the sobs that were clawing at her throat.
But it was too much.
The dam broke.
She clenched her fists, buried her face in her hands—and let herself cry.
PRESENT DAY
Weiss stood stiffly, arms crossed, maintaining a careful distance from Willow.
"Thanks for the help," Weiss said, her voice even, yet distant.
Willow's expression faltered at the tone. She knew that politeness wasn't warmth. It was a wall.
Lowering her head slightly, she turned to Ruby. "I'll be heading back to Atlas. Qrow wanted to speak with me about something."
Ruby raised an eyebrow. "Qrow? Talking to you? Huh. Maybe he's finally asking you out."
Willow blinked, then gave her a flat look. "I'm not into jokes anymore."
Without another word, she ascended into the air, wind swirling around her as she soared off toward the city skyline.
Ruby exhaled, rubbing the back of her head. "Yeesh. Tough crowd."
She turned to Weiss. "You okay?"
Weiss didn't answer.
She just kept her eyes locked on the sky, silently watching as her mother disappeared into the distance.
VELVET'S HOUSE
The soft rustling of leaves accompanied the rhythmic motion of Velvet's hands as she carefully planted a row of flowers in the freshly turned soil. Her movements were slow, deliberate, yet tinged with sadness.
The garden was meant to be peaceful, a place of comfort—but today, it felt heavy.
A light breeze drifted past, carrying the faint scent of earth and petals, but it did little to lift the weight in her chest.
Her gaze flickered upward, drifting past the flowers to the gravestone that stood just ten feet away.
Daisy Scarlatina.
The name was etched into the stone, unchanging. A permanent reminder of what was lost.
Velvet reached for a single daisy from the small bundle beside her. She turned it over in her fingers, staring at the delicate white petals.
For a few moments, she simply stood there, lost in thought.
Then, with quiet reverence, she stepped forward and gently laid the flower at the base of the grave.
She lingered for a breath—one second, then two—before finally turning away.
As she made her way back toward the garden, the shrill ring of her Scroll shattered the stillness.
Velvet pulled it from her pocket, glancing at the screen.
Coco.
Her jaw tightened. Without hesitation, she swiped the call away, rejecting it.
The screen darkened. The ringing stopped.
Letting out a slow sigh, Velvet shoved the Scroll back into her pocket and knelt down, resuming her work.
The garden wouldn't fix everything.
But right now, it was all she had.
ROOM
Coco sat in the dimly lit room, her Scroll screen glowing faintly in the darkness. The call had barely rung twice before being rejected.
Again.
Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before she sighed, setting the device aside.
She reached for the glass sitting nearby, empty.
Without hesitation, she grabbed the bottle of alcohol, the liquid sloshing as she poured a generous amount into the cup.
Lifting it to her lips, she took a long, slow drink.
The burn in her throat was familiar. Expected.
But it didn't make her feel any less alone.
A COUPLE HOURS LATER – ATLAS LANDING PAD
The airship doors hissed open, and Yang, Blake, and Weiss stepped onto the landing pad, their boots hitting the cold metal surface. A sharp wind cut through the air, carrying the faint hum of distant aircraft and the heavy scent of steel and fuel.
Behind them, Junior and the Malachite Twins stood just inside the airship, hesitating at the threshold. Their eyes scanned the imposing military base ahead, its towering structures bathed in the pale glow of Atlas's artificial lights.
Ruby landed near the group, her cloak billowing as she touched down. She took a moment to take in the massive base sprawled before her.
"It's… bigger than I thought," Ruby admitted. She had heard about the new base of operations, but seeing it in person was something else entirely.
"That's what I said," Yang remarked, crossing her arms. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "And yeah, last time I saw it, I said something vulgar."
Ruby shot her a flat look. "Why am I not surprised?"
Yang just shrugged.
"Let's just go inside," Ruby said, exhaling. "I'd like to make this quick before I head back home."
"Right," Yang nodded, turning toward Junior and the Twins.
"You three," she said, jerking her thumb toward Blake, "will follow her. She'll take you to your temporary quarters until the club is rebuilt."
Junior and the Twins exchanged uneasy glances but didn't argue. Without a word, they followed Blake as she led them toward the base.
As they walked away, Ruby turned back to Yang. "You really think having them here is a good idea?"
"Not even a little," Yang admitted. "But if they've got anything we can use against Cinder, they can stay."
Ruby sighed, rubbing her temples. "Whatever. Come on."
REC ROOM
The rhythmic hum of Neon's voice filled the air as she wiped down one of her rollerblades, carefully polishing the wheels. Across from her, Sun sat with his staff laid across his lap, inspecting every inch of it to ensure it was in top shape.
The Rec Room door slid open.
Sun glanced up, his ears twitching slightly at the sound. When he saw who had entered, his face broke into a wide grin.
"Hey, Ruby!"
"Sun." Ruby smiled back, stepping forward.
Sun chuckled and reached out his hand. Ruby took it, shaking firmly.
"It's been a while since we've seen you," Sun said.
"I know," Ruby admitted, her expression softening. "But… you know. Jaune…"
Sun's grin faded slightly, but he nodded in understanding. "No, I get it. Totally. Still wish you were here helping us more, but it's alright. You gotta take care of your own."
"Indeed!" Neon chimed in, flipping one of her rollerblades in her hand. "Despite you not being around, we've all been doing pretty great!"
"That's thanks to me," a voice drawled from the couch.
Everyone turned toward Emerald, who was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling with her arms behind her head.
"If it weren't for me," she continued lazily, "giving you all the info I had, none of you would be smiling right now."
Sun sighed, shaking his head. "We know, Em."
Ruby raised an eyebrow as she looked between them. "Still getting used to having her around?"
"Indeed, Rubes," Yang answered, folding her arms. "But hey, she hasn't tried to kill us or anything since. I still don't completely trust her, though."
Emerald turned her head, locking eyes with Yang. "I know you don't." Her voice was quieter, more serious. "But I hope you will."
Before Yang could respond, a door creaked open.
All heads turned as Neptune stumbled into the room, looking like death warmed over. His face was pale, and he groaned as he dragged himself inside.
His tired eyes landed on Ruby. "Oh. Hey."
"Um… you okay, Neptune?" Ruby asked, stepping closer.
Neptune let out a miserable sigh. "Cheap Vacuoan-style food is not agreeing with me right now."
Sun shook his head, clearly unimpressed. "Dude, I told you this would happen. Even I don't eat anything that costs less than ten Lien."
Neptune groaned louder as he clutched his stomach. "Oh, now you tell me…"
This might help."
Neptune turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Blake approaching, a small sealed bag in her hand.
"Green herbal tea," Blake said, holding it out to him. "Should help a lot."
Neptune took the bag, looking grateful but exhausted. "Thanks."
He barely had time to tuck it away before his eyes widened in sudden panic.
Without another word, he clamped a hand over his mouth and sprinted toward the nearest bathroom, slamming the door shut just as the unmistakable sounds of vomiting echoed through the room.
There was a moment of silence.
"Well," Ruby said, clearing her throat. "I should find Ironwood. I need to speak with him."
"Follow me, Rubes," Yang said, already heading for the door. She glanced over and saw Willow, sitting quietly with a book in hand. "You too, Crystal."
Willow sighed, closing her book and standing up before following them.
As the three left the Rec Room, Sun wandered over to Weiss, hands casually in his pockets.
"Still awkward seeing your mom again?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah," Weiss muttered, rubbing her temples. "But… I'm warming up to her."
FLASHBACK – DOJO
Pyrrha stood in front of the dojo, staring at the handwritten address Adrian had given her. She glanced up at the traditional wooden structure, its weathered exterior standing proudly against the test of time.
Taking a steadying breath, she pushed open the doors and stepped inside.
The interior was immaculate, a tribute to a warrior's discipline. A large training platform sat in the center of the room, its polished wood gleaming under the light. As her gaze traveled across the floor, she noticed four distinct emblems embedded into the surface. One of them was hers.
Pyrrha's breath hitched slightly.
Her eyes followed the walls, lined with championship flags. Dozens of them, spanning **decades—**some dating back to just after the Great War.
She walked toward a trophy display case, her fingers grazing the edge as she examined the countless awards and accolades behind the glass.
"Wow…" she murmured, a smile tugging at her lips.
Her eyes landed on one particular trophy, and she leaned in closer to read the inscription.
"Andromeda Nikos – World Champion."
Pyrrha's breath caught in her throat.
"Your grandmother was a tough fighter."
She spun around, instantly on guard.
Standing near the entrance was Adrian Forrest, clad in full armor.
Pyrrha blinked. "Um… Mr. Forrest? What are you doing? And why are you wearing that?"
Adrian stepped forward, his expression serious. "Because, Miss Nikos," he said, "someone as special as you doesn't deserve to spend the rest of their life hiding in the shadows."
Pyrrha hesitated, shifting on her feet.
"There will come a time when you'll have to step into the light again—when the world will see you, not as a ghost, but as the warrior you were meant to be." He gestured toward the emblems on the floor. "And when that time comes… you'll need to be ready."
Pyrrha nodded slowly, exhaling. "That… is true. I have gotten rusty." She rolled her shoulders, stretching out her arms. "I still remember how to fight, though."
"You may," Adrian said, stepping closer, "but without your spear and shield, your fighting style is almost useless."
Pyrrha flinched at his bluntness but said nothing.
"Which is why," Adrian continued, his voice unwavering, "for the next few weeks, I'll be training you—teaching you different fighting styles. You'll learn to adapt, to fight with knives, swords, even guns."
Pyrrha's eyes widened slightly. "I… I don't know what to say."
Adrian smirked.
Without warning, he threw something at her.
Pyrrha's instincts kicked in.
Her hand snapped up, fingers closing around the object just before it reached her face.
She blinked, slowly lowering her hand to examine what she caught—a small dagger, its tip mere inches from her eye.
She looked back up at Adrian.
He grinned.
"I see that your reflexes are still exceptionally great," Adrian said, arms crossed as he studied Pyrrha's reaction.
Pyrrha turned the dagger over in her hands before glancing up. "And if they weren't?"
Adrian shrugged. "I have a spare eyepatch somewhere." A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Don't worry. You would've lived."
Pyrrha rolled her eyes but chuckled slightly, shaking her head.
Her expression sobered as she looked at him. "What exactly will it take for me to fight again?"
Adrian's smirk faded, replaced by something far more serious.
"Simple," he said, pacing slightly. "Should you accept my proposition, know this—you will be undergoing a strict training regimen. One that only I have ever taught, one that pushes the mind and body beyond their limits."
Pyrrha listened intently, her grip tightening on the dagger.
"This training? Normally, it takes years to master," Adrian continued. "You? You have a month."
Her brows furrowed. "A month?"
"That is—if you choose to accept it."
Pyrrha said nothing, turning away as she paced around the dojo.
Her mind raced.
Cinder was still out there.
Plotting. Destroying.
She had already taken so much.
If left unchecked, she would turn all of Remnant into ruins. She would kill anyone who stood in her way—or worse, just because she enjoyed it.
Pyrrha clenched her fists.
I won't let that happen.
Her breath was steady as she turned back to Adrian, resolve burning in her eyes.
"I'll do it," she said firmly. "I'll train under you, Mr. Forrest." She took a step forward. "And I promise—I won't give up easily. Even when I want to. Even when it feels like too much… I'll keep going."
Adrian studied her for a moment before nodding in approval. He placed a hand over his chest and bowed slightly.
"Excellent. And from this moment forward, you will address me as Master Forrest."
Pyrrha dipped her head in respect. "Of course, Master Forrest."
Adrian grinned. "Outstanding." He turned, stepping toward the center of the dojo.
"Let's begin your first day of training."
PRESENT – CONTROL ROOM
Qrow leaned against the control panel, pulling out his flask and taking a long, deeper-than-usual swig. He let out a slow breath as he capped it, rolling his shoulders before shifting his gaze toward Raven.
"What?" Qrow asked, his tone dry.
Raven let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Before either of them could say more, the sound of someone clearing their throat caught their attention.
They both turned to see Yang, Ruby, and Willow standing in front of them.
Qrow straightened slightly, a small smirk forming. "Huh. Good to see you again, kiddo."
"Same here, Qrow," Ruby said, offering a faint smile. "But I won't be here long."
The Control Room doors slid open, drawing everyone's attention.
Ironwood and Wesley entered, both walking with their usual commanding presence.
"Miss Rose," Ironwood greeted, his sharp gaze settling on her. "I must say, I'm quite surprised to see you here."
"Just visiting, General," Ruby replied. "Wanted to check in, see how everyone's holding up."
"Not to mention some alone time with Weiss," Yang whispered teasingly.
Ruby sighed, shaking her head.
"I see," Ironwood said, his expression unreadable. "And here I thought you might be reconsidering rejoining us."
"The same goes for Mr. Arc and Ms. Scarlatina," Wesley added, adjusting his glasses.
Ruby's expression turned somber. "Jaune is recovering. He's doing a lot better than before, but he's still working through things." She crossed her arms. "And Velvet already gave me her answer—she's not coming back."
Ironwood frowned slightly but said nothing.
Raven, however, scoffed.
"Ruby, do you honestly think Mr. Arc will ever be capable of fighting again?" She folded her arms. "Especially after what happened to Neopolitan? After what happened to his parents?"
A heavy silence settled in the room.
Ruby turned her gaze toward Raven, her expression unreadable.
"I'm going to be honest here," Ruby said, her voice level. "The chances of Jaune coming back are slim. He's damn near broken. And his sisters? They're scattered all over Remnant. Some went back to their jobs, others just… went home." She let out a quiet sigh. "In Jaune's mind… he's alone now."
"He doesn't have to be, Rubes," Yang interjected, her brows furrowing. "He still has us." She motioned toward the room. "We're his other family. Weiss, Blake, Ren, Nora, all of us. Everyone who's still here, who still cares about him. If you could just try to convince him to come back, maybe he wouldn't feel so alone."
Ruby exhaled, shaking her head. "I can try, Yang," she admitted. "But I seriously doubt he'll change his mind. Maybe… if Ren and Nora came to Patch to visit, then it'd be possible. They've been the closest to him, especially after Pyrrha…" She trailed off.
Yang gave a slow nod. "I'll talk to them. See when they can make the trip."
"Good," Ruby said. Then, glancing at everyone in the room, she straightened. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have to take my leave."
Yang smirked slightly. "Weiss will no doubt be in our room," she teased. "She spends a lot of time there."
Ruby rolled her eyes but said nothing, turning on her heel and leaving the Control Room.
Once the door slid shut behind her, Yang pulled out the files they had salvaged from the nightclub. She stepped forward and handed them to Ironwood.
"Here's everything I could recover from the explosion," she said. "These files mention Dust shipments and Dark Seeker hot spots."
Ironwood took them, flipping through the pages. "Excellent work, Miss Xiao Long." He looked up at her. "But we will need to speak about bringing the club owner and the Malachite Twins here, to Atlas."
Yang sighed, already expecting this. "I know," she admitted. "I take full responsibility for anything that happens because of them."
ROOM
Weiss sat on the edge of her bed, her knees pulled up, arms wrapped loosely around them. She stared down at the floor, her mind lost in a storm of thoughts. Her chest felt heavy, the kind of weight that didn't go away even after countless sleepless nights.
A knock at the door made her flinch slightly. She wiped at her eyes, quickly composing herself.
"Weiss? Can I come in?"
Ruby.
Weiss cleared her throat, pushing down the lingering emotions before answering. "Come in."
The door creaked open, and Ruby stepped inside, closing it gently behind her. Her eyes wandered over the room—familiar, yet different.
The layout was eerily similar to their old room in the Citadel, except for one notable change. The walls were pure white, lacking the warmth of their old home.
Ruby gave a small smirk. "Well… this looks… homey."
Weiss let out a quiet chuckle. "It's not much. But as long as there's a comfy bed, I'll survive."
Ruby turned to her, studying her face for a moment before stepping forward and sitting beside her.
They sat there in silence, just looking at each other.
"How have you been?" Ruby finally asked.
Weiss inhaled deeply, considering her answer. "Better," she said softly. "I can still hear my father's screams sometimes… but they're getting quieter."
Ruby nodded. "That's good." She hesitated before asking, "Any updates on where he is?"
Weiss sighed, shaking her head. "Not yet. But that's why we went to the nightclub. Hopefully, something in those files will give us a clue."
"You'll find him," Ruby said, her voice full of certainty. "Just don't give up on him. Hold on to the hope you have, and you'll see him again."
"I know I will," Weiss murmured. "But I can't help but think… what's it going to be like when he finds out my mother is alive?"
Ruby chuckled lightly. "Awkward. Very awkward."
Weiss allowed a small smile. "He was like that when he met her years ago."
Ruby scooted closer, wrapping her arms gently around Weiss's shoulders.
"I missed you, Ruby," Weiss admitted, her voice quiet, almost fragile.
Ruby smiled, her grip tightening. "And I missed you, too."
For a moment, nothing else mattered.
Ruby leaned in, pressing her lips against Weiss's.
It was soft, warm—familiar.
But then, Ruby felt it.
A single tear.
She slowly pulled back, concern filling her gaze as she saw the sadness in Weiss's eyes.
"Weiss?" she asked softly.
Weiss hesitated, looking away.
"…I failed Jaune, Ruby." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Ruby's brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Weiss lifted her head, her tear-filled eyes meeting Ruby's.
"Before you guys left," Weiss whispered, her voice shaky, "Jaune asked me, Yang, and Blake to watch over his family. To make sure they would stay safe." She swallowed hard. "We swore to protect them, Ruby. But after his parents…"
Her voice broke.
More tears spilled down her cheeks, and before she could say another word, Ruby pulled her into a tight embrace.
Weiss didn't hesitate—she buried her face in Ruby's shoulder, her body trembling as the sobs she had tried so hard to hold in finally broke free.
Ruby gently stroked Weiss's silky white hair, her voice soothing. "Sshh… sshh… It's okay. It's going to be okay."
She could feel Weiss clutching her tighter, as if afraid to let go.
"Just let it all out, Weiss," Ruby murmured. "Just let it all out."
Weiss did.
The walls she had built, the composure she had tried to maintain—it all crumbled.
Her sobs grew louder, raw with grief, as she finally allowed herself to break.
And Ruby held her, never letting go.
Ruby gently shifted, adjusting their position so that they were now lying on Weiss's bed. She kept her arms securely wrapped around Weiss, holding her close as she continued to sob.
Weiss didn't resist. She only buried herself deeper into Ruby's embrace, as if seeking **warmth, comfort—**anything to ground her.
Ruby's grip tightened slightly, not too much, but enough to remind Weiss that she was here, that she wasn't alone.
"It's okay," Ruby whispered, her voice soft but firm. "I've got you. I'm right here."
Weiss's shaking breaths slowly began to even out, though the occasional hiccuped sob still escaped.
"You're not alone, Weiss," Ruby murmured into her hair. "You never were."
She felt Weiss grip onto her shirt, clutching the fabric like a lifeline.
Ruby continued to hold her, offering **warmth, security—**a silent promise that she wouldn't leave.
For a long while, they just lay there.
No words.
Just comfort.
FLASHBACK – ARC FAMILY HOME
A cold breeze swept through the quiet cemetery, rustling the leaves and carrying the faint scent of freshly turned earth.
Ruby knelt down, placing a bouquet of flowers on Neo's grave. The petals were soft beneath her fingers, a stark contrast to the cold, unyielding stone.
She lingered for a moment, her silver eyes tracing over the inscription, her heart heavy.
With a quiet sigh, she stood, turning her gaze toward Jaune.
He stood motionless, staring at two graves side by side.
His parents'.
They had been killed just days after he and Ruby moved to Patch.
The funeral had ended only moments ago, but Jaune hadn't moved from where he stood.
Through the large window of the Arc family home, Ruby could see his sisters mourning inside, their quiet sobs muffled by the walls.
Still, Jaune remained outside. Alone.
Ruby hesitated before stepping forward, stopping beside him.
"I'm sorry, Jaune," she said softly. "I'm so sorry."
Jaune didn't respond at first. His hands were curled into tight fists, his shoulders stiff with grief.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke.
"First, she took Pyrrha from me."
His breathing grew unsteady.
"Then… she took Neo."
A single tear slipped down his cheek.
"And now… my own parents."
His legs gave out.
Ruby moved instinctively, catching him before he could collapse completely.
Jaune's entire body shook, his breath hitching as he tried—and failed—to hold back the flood of emotions.
"Everyone I've ever loved…" his voice broke, "they just keep on dying."
His grip tightened on Ruby's sleeve.
"I have no one left."
Ruby shook her head.
"That's not true, Jaune," she said, her tone firm but gentle.
He looked up at her, eyes filled with despair.
"You still have your sisters. You still have me. And Yang. Ren. Nora. All of us. The people who have stood by you from the start. We're still here. We're not going anywhere."
Jaune let out a shaky breath, his gaze falling to the ground.
"We take care of each other," Ruby continued, her grip on his shoulder steady and strong.
"Because we love you."
Jaune swallowed, his voice barely audible.
"…Like a family?"
Ruby nodded.
"Like a family."
For a long moment, he didn't say anything.
Then, after a slow inhale, Jaune finally spoke.
"Can… can I have a few minutes alone?" His voice trembled slightly. "Please?"
Ruby hesitated but then nodded in understanding.
"Of course," she said softly. "Take your time."
With one last reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, she stood and made her way toward the Arc family home.
Before stepping inside, she paused at the doorway, glancing over her shoulder.
Jaune remained kneeling before his parents' graves, his head bowed, hands resting on his thighs. His grief was silent but crushing.
Ruby's heart ached for him, but she knew—this was something he had to face on his own.
With a quiet breath, she turned away and stepped inside.
PRESENT DAY – PATCH
After hours of flying, Ruby landed in front of her home in Patch. The cool night air brushed against her skin as she stepped forward, reaching for the doorknob.
Before she could turn it—
CRASH!
The unmistakable sound of something shattering echoed from inside, followed by muffled yelling.
Ruby's breath hitched. Her hand instinctively reached for Crescent Rose, unfolding it with a swift motion.
She pushed open the door.
The moment she stepped inside, her heart sank.
The living room was a mess. Furniture was knocked over, a glass bottle lay shattered across the floor, and remnants of what looked like a picture frame were scattered near the couch.
But it was the yelling upstairs that made her tense.
Jaune.
His voice was filled with rage.
"They took them from me."
Ruby swallowed, her grip tightening on her weapon as she quietly moved toward the stairs.
"They took Pyrrha. Then Neo. Then my own parents."
Her steps were slow, cautious.
"Fucking Cinder!"
She reached the top of the staircase, the hallway dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the windows.
"She has to die!"
Her eyes landed on Jaune.
He was facing the opposite wall, his shoulders shaking, angrily muttering under his breath.
In one hand, he clutched a half-empty bottle of alcohol. In the other—Crocea Mors.
Ruby's breath caught.
He turned.
His red-rimmed eyes locked onto her, wild and filled with rage.
"Cinder," Jaune growled.
His grip on his sword tightened.
And then, he stepped toward her.
"She took them away from me, Ruby!"
He staggered slightly, but his fury didn't waver.
He stopped just a few feet from her, his breath uneven, chest rising and falling with barely contained anger and pain.
"She took them away!" His voice cracked, his body trembling with grief. "She needs to die!"
Ruby slowly lowered Crescent Rose.
She exhaled through her nose, lowering her head.
For a few tense seconds, neither of them moved.
Then—Jaune turned away.
Still mumbling under his breath, he staggered down the hall, his shoulders hunched, his grip on the bottle shaking.
Ruby watched, her entire body shaking.
She hesitated for only a moment before folding Crescent Rose away.
From down the hall, she could hear him softly crying.
His footsteps were uneven, his voice barely a whisper now.
He walked into her room.
Ruby followed, her steps slow, careful.
At the doorway, she paused, listening.
Jaune was sitting on the edge of her bed, his back hunched over, sobbing quietly.
Her heart ached at the sight.
Steeling herself, she took a step closer and reached for the bottle.
Jaune's grip didn't loosen.
His fingers tightened around it, as if letting go meant losing something more.
No," Jaune muttered, his voice hoarse.
"Jaune," Ruby said softly, her hand still gripping the bottle. "Give it to me."
His fingers tightened around it. "No!"
"Come on," she pleaded, keeping her voice gentle but firm. "Please… just give me the bottle."
"NO!"
For a moment, they struggled.
Then, suddenly—Jaune's fingers went slack.
The bottle slipped from his grasp, clinking against the floor. Crocea Mors followed next, clattering against the wooden panels beside him.
Without hesitation, Ruby pulled him into a hug.
Jaune didn't resist. He simply collapsed into her arms, his body trembling, his ragged sobs muffled against her shoulder.
Ruby held him tight, just like she had held Weiss earlier.
Just like before, she let him break.
For a minute, neither of them spoke—only the quiet, uneven sounds of his crying filled the room.
When his body grew heavier, Ruby gently guided him down onto her bed.
Jaune tried to sit up, but Ruby placed a firm hand on his chest, forcing him back down.
"Stay," she whispered.
His bloodshot eyes flickered to hers before he finally relented, his breathing still uneven.
As he lay there, mumbling unintelligibly, Ruby bent down and picked up his sword and the bottle.
She walked over to her drawer, placing them both **on top—**out of his reach.
Then, she moved back to the bed, climbing onto the center of the mattress.
With gentle hands, she pulled Jaune toward her, guiding his head to rest on her lap.
Jaune let out a shaky sigh, his body relaxing slightly as Ruby ran her fingers through his messy blonde hair.
The room was silent. The storm inside him hadn't passed, but at least for now, it had quieted.
After a few minutes, his voice broke through the stillness.
"I always loved her, Ruby." His voice was soft, weak. "You know that, don't you?"
Ruby swallowed back her emotions and nodded. "Of course, Jaune." Her fingers gently stroked through his hair. "And Neo loved you, too."
A ghost of a smile flickered across his face—just for a second.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "We were thinking about starting a family. After all this war was over."
Ruby's eyes widened slightly.
She hadn't known that.
Jaune let out a heavy breath, his body slowly sinking deeper into exhaustion.
"But she's gone now," he murmured. "I always wanted a baby boy. Jaune Arc, Jr."
Ruby let out a sad chuckle, her fingers still running through his hair.
"I miss her, Ruby," Jaune whispered, his voice softer now, weaker.
"I miss her so much…"
His words faded, his body finally succumbing to exhaustion.
Ruby sat there, her best friend sleeping on her lap, his face still damp from his tears.
Her own vision blurred.
Her lips trembled.
But she stayed strong for him.
With tears silently falling down her cheeks, Ruby continued to comfort Jaune, even as she quietly wept alongside him.