Jaune hit the sheets hard. He was in the city hall building which, since the Battle of Beacon, slept 400. The attic was dusty floorboards, plain white beds with well-worn woolen blankets, and a window beneath either eave, one of which allowed moonlight to trace its path across the shadowed floor—nothing special.

Fitting.

He had stayed out late working repairs. The work was exhausting, but at least this time he could be doing something. At the same time he needed the work to keep his mind off things, he felt its futility in full. Nothing he had been doing in the last weeks would do a thing to stop the grimm should they return.

Or even just come down the hill.

Jaune shifted under his blanket, trying to find comfort in vain. There was nothing he could do, not by himself, not without her. That was the problem with sleeping here; the work could keep his mind off things, but when the day was done? When he was supposed to sleep? It all came back to him. Every night. It was pathetic; he didn't even have a tragic scene to mourn. He just had her pushing him back into the locker—helpless again—and leaving before he could do anything, begging Ruby to help her in his stead, and Qrow's face when he asked what had happened. He didn't have the courage to ask Ruby how she'd died, go up to Beacon and retrieve her body, nor tell her family—her family—

"Jaune?"

Jaune jumped, torn from his thoughts, and turned to look at the speaker. It was Ren's voice. The stoic boy's magenta eyes caught some of the ever-present moonlight as he looked over from his adjacent bed. Beside him slept Nora—soundly, as ever.

"Can you sleep?" Ren asked evenly.

"No."

"Do you want to talk?" Ren offered.

"No—just go to sleep, Ren," Jaune snapped. "I'm fine."

"Alright. Goodnight, Jaune," Ren said, his voice on the same even keel.

"Yeah," Jaune mumbled out.

He regretted snapping at Ren, but at the same time he didn't even care. Everything felt meaningless anymore—like a poor caricature of life. He hated himself for lashing out, but not half as much as he did for being useless.

He would just stew like this, every night, mourning. He was probably mourning his uselessness more than anything, Jaune thought bitterly. Stormy through his thoughts were, exhaustion was slowly overcoming him. The reality of his body pushing all of his petty emotions and worthless regrets to the back of his mind. He just wished that he had been there—even if he had died too!

Especially… if he had died too.

Or died instead. Maybe he was just overestimating his worth again, but it just wasn't fair! That she had come to Beacon with all of her life spent training—working—while he just coasted in on a whim and some papers. And she had accepted him! Valued him, trained him—even loved him! It wasn't fair! Just… why? Why her?

He had killed her.

Wide open and for all to see he had taken her life. He was devastated and just... couldn't take it anymore. He shut down, waiting for their inevitable revoke. He saw a red form, Ruby's, defending him; taking his worthless side.

He couldn't take it.

He ran, ran beyond limits and boundaries. Ran away; he had to get away. This was no fight: this was a tragedy. He hated himself. Hated himself for killing her. He felt… felt like it would be better if Ruby hadn't defended him. Better if they had all just put him down before anyone else could be hurt.

But there was no time for his melancholy. The door was open: a beacon to him. A beacon he knew he must follow. He descended into its darkness, following in the footsteps laid out by his ancestors. The destiny given to him. He felt its approach at the same time his nagging doubts held him back. Why throw away everything? Why fall alone? He couldn't listen to them. He had doubted himself enough, creating this whole fucked up drama. He brushed aside his doubts, climbed into the steel cradle, and again waited for his destiny.

Pain, immeasurable pain. It felt as if his soul was being shredded by the very destiny it mandated he pursue. The pain wracked and swelled, washing over him and into him both physically and spiritually. It twisted upon itself, doubling in intensity before suddenly receding. Stopping. All at once the pain was gone, he felt normal, and everything was clear.

He saw his destiny burst from its cage, shooting across the cool marble floor in a burst of amber light. It met her, the red woman, and erupted into flame. She rose, aglow with power and wreathed in a twisting, circling conflagration. He saw Jaune charge at her, only to be knocked away by a mere flick of her wrist.

Immediately he was in a much greater pain—a panic. He burned to leap from his cage, terrified of what would befall Jaune should he fail again. He pushed against the steel trap's hinges and they relented, flying across the room at the woman. Out he flew into the dim, viridescent room, flying at the red woman only to be stopped by Ozpin. Run, find the others—he would hold her, he professed.

Then, he truly believed him.

He ran together with Jaune, out and away from his destiny. Up, out, away; there were many questions to which he had few answers. All he could do was find Goodwitch, find the huntresses—they could help.

Thum...

Perhaps this was best.

Thuuummmm…

That he and Jaune escape and warn the others.

Thuuuuuummmmmmm...

Perhaps this was his destiny after all.

THUUUUUUUMMMMMM! The ground beneath them shook violently and he saw the red woman shooting towards the tower's peak in a plume of flame.

No, no; this was his destiny. He hadn't ran from it before and he wouldn't now. His friends—everyone—needed him. But his friends weren't out here, towards a safe and peaceful life. No, their fates were at the top of that tower. He would face the woman, for them.

Emotion overcame him, familiar yet more intense than ever. Perhaps it was just the frustration of continually being denied, perhaps he was just scared, but he grabbed Jaune and pulled him into a kiss. His lips were soft and yielding, barely chapped, as his arms wrapped around him. He held onto that touch for as long as he could, cradling the person he cared for so. Jaune felt like hope—another life full of family and love and happiness...

But it wasn't for him.

He pushed Jaune away. Jaune floated, as if suspended by nothing, away from him. He watched, and second guessed, and regretted, but knew he had done the right thing.

He couldn't bear the guilt of that life. Couldn't stand sitting in immediate, personal happiness, all the while hearing echoes of suffering, ever-encroaching. Couldn't stand knowing that the evil he had allowed to fester was hurting people by his leave. No, he would end that evil tonight by his hand. Then he could be with Jaune.

Running through the Cross Continental Transmit Tower reception area he felt a deep sense of dread. All the calls he had made to his family in Mistral here, now reduced to this. It was just… wrong. He found the elevator, it's floor and roof torn through, broken wires sparking. That woman's fire had torn through steel…

He seized the broken elevator with his semblance, willing it to action. Pulling it with all his might the steel box shot up its shaft, grinding and sparking, straight to Ozpin's office. The elevator arrived and he looked out into the once-sunlit room where he had been been inducted into this whole fiasco. Now the dragon rested outside the window, tended to by the woman in red in a perverted parody of its former self. He struck out at her, dodging fire blasts, trying to get an attack in. Blocking a torrent of flame with his shield, he slashed at the oncoming woman.

She caught Miló and struck him in the stomach with such force than he was cast back into the wall in a shower of sparks. It hurt. It felt like his ribs were cracking, though he knew they weren't. She charged again, but this time he caught and threw her, ramming his shield into her as she caught her balance. His strikes met with a flurry of flame, launching him up into the air. He threw Miló, which the woman deflected with a wave of her right hand, and Akoúo, which she dismissed with her left. Left with no other choice, he tacked the woman. Struggling as they tumbled through the air, together they crashed into the office's floor.

He rose, holding the woman head with his left hand while his right pulled Miló to her throat. They struggled as the dragon launched to the skies. It flew a ways out from the tower before turning back, heading straight for them. He struggled, trying to draw Miló into her throat—to just end it.

All at once Miló snapped, the woman having sundered the metal with her flame; she elbowed him in the gut, sending him reeling once again; and the dragon crashed into the tower. The cogs scattered, sparking, from their loft as the entire room crumbled, falling into the darkness of night. He stumbled to his feet, his stomach aching badly, as the woman hovered in the center of what once once Ozpin's office, her feet aflame. He shot a bent piece of metal from the cogworks at her and ran to grab his shield. The woman cast the wrought iron off and renewed her flaming assault, setting the floor alight. He threw his shield through the flames—which the woman batted aside—but he had a plan yet. He pulled the scattered giant gears aloft with his polarity and surrounded the her with them. Taking advantage of the woman's surprise, he swept her feet out from under her and dropped one of the cogs straight onto her, pinning her to the ground. He layered the gears around her, trapping her within an iron cage.

But a fire began to build within their embrace. Before he could do anything the pile of gears exploded, sending one one of the cogs shooting right at him. He did his best to block, but the gear knocked him against the broken office wall, pinning him between it and Akoúo and breaking the last of his protective aura. He leapt back up as the woman drew her bow, spinning and throwing Akoúo to disrupt her aim. However, the arrow flew and seemed to dodge his shield, striking true into his ankle. More than even the powerful blows, the glass cutting into his heel hurt dearly. He tried to stand, but the glass splintered and cut within him, forcing him to fall to his hands and knees.

He was going to die here.

The red woman walked around him, gloating, "It's unfortunate that you were promised a power that was never truly yours."

It was strange, though he saw his doom before him, he wasn't afraid, just sad. He thought of his family, his friends, of Jaune… He would miss them. He thought bitterly one last time that maybe all those years spent training had robbed him of some innate human experience. Irrevocably broken him to the point where he wasn't even emotional over his own oncoming death.

She pulled his chin up to face her and said, "But take comfort in knowing that I will use it in ways you could never have imagined."

He pulled himself from her grasp and asked finally, "Do you believe in destiny."

The woman's eyes narrowed, a tear seeming to form in her eye. She answered shortly, "Yes," and rose, drawing her bow and notching an arrow from glass fragments.

He closed his eyes and relaxed, feeling the cool night breeze one last time.

The arrow struck hard into his chest, biting through and out his back. The pain was immense, not the worst he had felt tonight, but unbearable nonetheless. The arrow, still burning hot, was lodged in his sternum. He didn't know why, but he couldn't feel his legs. As he tried to draw a gasping breath the glass arrow cracked—fragmented—tearing further into his flesh. He felt the blood welling up inside his chest; seeping into his lungs and blotting out his breath. His gorget seemed to be constricting around his neck. Clutching a hand to his chest, he watched red motes of light float up through his fingers. They rose just before his eyes as he looked across at the woman. Amidst the pain he found them strange. Trapped between the searing arrow's bleeding, jagged pain and suffocation, he felt death's icy fingers close around his throat. His vision flickered, growing dark as the numbness spread up. He saw the woman approach as the blackness claimed his vision and he fell forward, losing all feeling.

"AAAAAAAGGHHHHAAAAAA!"

Jaune's screaming broke the silence as his vision went bright white.

A red woman looked down on him from above, taking his hand in one of her own while supporting his head with the other. "Ssssshh, sssshhh, it's okay, Jaune, it's okay."

Jaune shook violently, no longer screaming but clearly still terrified of the red figure, clutching at his chest with his free hand. His vision faded from white and allowed him to see exactly one thing: Pyrrha. Her scarlet mane draped down over him, at once shielding him from the harsh light beyond and affirming her presence.

She was… fine.

Pyrrha wore her off-white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar and her plaid Beacon skirt without leggings. Her circlet was gone and with it her ponytail. Now her long scarlet tresses flowed freely down her back, her bangs were swept to the side as usual.

"Sssshhh, Jaune. You're alright, I'm alright," Pyrrha said. Her face was shaded by her hair, but her emerald eyes glimmered clearly. They were wetted with tears.

"N-no it's not, no you're n-not!" Jaune sobbed. "I was you, y-you died. You felt that and you died!"

"Yes, but I'm alright now and so are you!" Pyrrha insisted. "Everything's ok-kay," she said, breaking into joyful tears. She pulled him up into a tight embrace, "I'm so glad I can see you again, Jaune."

"What good is it, though! You're just a dream. You're dead! Nothing I could say even matters—the last thing you saw is that!" Jaune bitterly lamented.

"I'm guessing you saw the last part of my life too…" Pyrrha winced in apology. "I'm still new at this, but I can assure you that I'm the real Pyrrha, Jaune, not your memory or dream of me," she said, pulling back to look upon his face.

"W-what!? But Pyrrha: you're dead! You're—"

"A ghost," Pyrrha said with a smirk.

"Wha—"

Pyrrha's smirk intensified, "I mean, I said the words about immortality and everything, but I never expected, well, this."

Jaune noticed his surroundings. They were sitting cross-legged on a patch of grass amid a vague skyscape. Clouds surrounded them just a few meters away, with a blue sky almost visible beyond. A modest oak tree rose above the pair, shielding them from the sun that could not be seen.

"Don't read too much into it, it's just a representation of space. But all the same, I'm certainly not going anywhere any time soon," Pyrrha said with a smile. She looked back upon Jaune to see him staring—just staring—at her.

Jaune himself was just wearing his comfy black hoodie and jeans with his crisscrossing leather belts. He had left his gloves and armor beside his bed as he laid down—what little he could be motivated to do for sleep. The towhead's hair was even more unkempt than usual, tangling and noodling just above his brow. His doubly-reddened cerulean eyes bore haggard shadows as they shook with disbelief, tearing up as he looked upon Pyrrha.

"Jaune…"

"I'm s-sorry!" he cried out, beginning to weep again.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I should have realized you wouldn't have gotten over my death yet," Pyrrha fretted, holding Jaune to her chest.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I told you to seek your destiny, I'm sorry I let you go up against that woman alone—I'm sorry I couldn't save you!" Jaune howled, crying while clinging to Pyrrha like life itself.

"No, I'm sorry I worried you! I should have contacted you sooner," Pyrrha said, squeezing Jaune back.

Jaune's hands found Pyrrha's shoulders as he rose back up, looking her in the eye. He lifted his hand, placing it on her cheek. "It's really you, isn't it?"

"Yes, Jaune," Pyrrha replied with a laugh.

Pyrrha gently reached up to wipe a tear from Jaune's eye with her thumb. Jaune blinked and leaned in, tilting his head to the right and closing his eyes. Their lips met and Pyrrha took hold of Jaune's head, sinking her fingers into his unkempt flaxen hair. Jaune reciprocated, entangling his hands in her now-unbound scarlet hair and pulling her into the kiss. Pyrrha ran her tongue along Jaune's lips. This surprised him, but he softened to her touch and opened his jaw. Pyrrha eagerly slipped her tongue into Jaune's mouth, circling his own. Recent events left them both with horribly chapped lips—they were honestly a mess—but right now it couldn't matter to them less.

They separated, only slightly, and rested their foreheads against each other. Panting for breath, each looked into the other's eyes; Pyrrha with an overwhelming sense of relief, Jaune with fondness and guilt.

"So… you saw my last moments, huh?" Pyrrha said awkwardly.

Jaune's expression darkened imperceptibly as he turned away, "Yeah."

"I guess that's part of the connection; we have to attune to each other's feelings," Pyrrha mused.

Jaune whirled around, "Wait, you mean you—"

"Yes! And I want you to know that I don't blame you Jaune." Pyrrha spoke emotively now. "This was my choice and, were I put in that position once more, I would make it again. You need to stop having those self-destructive thoughts—stop calling yourself worthless!" Pyrrha said passionately, placing her hand on Jaune' back.

"Stop thinking that you have to appease me..." Pyrrha quietly begged.

Jaune spoke quietly now, surprised by Pyrrha's sudden insight into his mind, "I just keep thinking that, that if I was stronger you wouldn't have had to protect me. That I wouldn't have been a burden and you wouldn't have had to go into that battle alone. That woman killed you, Pyrrha! Don't you care that—"

"I care about you! I don't want to see you suffer just like you don't want me to. Just, please, please stop thinking about sacrificing yourself! You'll only hurt us both," Pyrrha pleaded.

"I— Alright, Pyrrha," Jaune conceded. He just squeezed her hand, emotionally exhausted from the whole experience.

The pair sat back to back resting for a while, their hands conjoined beside them.

After a time Jaune spoke up, "So, you said you were fine; what's it like being dead?"

"I… I'll have to get back to you on that. Things are a lot different here—time doesn't work the same way—and it's just hard to explain without you knowing what I'm talking about. All I can say for sure is that I'm here now," Pyrrha reflected.

"Can… Have you spoken to your family since…?"

"No, I haven't been able to reach my parents," Pyrrha said quietly.

"Do you think it has something to do with you unlocking my aura?" Jaune asked.

"Maybe. I don't know," Pyrrha's grip imperceptibly tightened on Jaune's hand. "Maybe because we spent so much time training together I can feel your aura and connect with you. Perhaps I've somehow chosen you as my only link to the mortal world. Heh, what would you think about some silly, romantic notion like that?" Pyrrha asked, laughing wistfully.

"I'd— I would love that, Pyrrha," Jaune said, squeezing her hand back.

"Oh, Jaune!" Pyrrha said and whirled around, draping her arms over his shoulders. Her breath was warm on his neck as she spoke into his ear, "You don't know how happy that makes me—having you here."

Jaune took her hand in his again, running his thumbs over her calloused palm. "You were there for me when I needed you, and I'll be here for you now," Jaune said as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing it. "I won't let you fall alone. I-I mean, I'll stay with you, like this."

Pyrrha said nothing for a while, just nuzzling into Jaune's neck holding him tighter. Jaune relaxed, melting and leaning back into her embrace. After some time had gone by, Pyrrha pressed her lips into Jaune's neck out of the blue, kissing and sucking lightly on it.

"Pyrrha, whaaaat are you doing?" Jaune asked, involuntarily moaning out as Pyrrha clamped her mouth down, sucking on the crook of his neck.

Pyrrha encircled her arms around his stomach and leaned back, pulling Jaune back onto her stomach. Her fingers snuck under Jaune's hoodie and up his stomach, feeling his abs. "I'm just conveying how I feel: I like having you with me," Pyrrha said teasingly, resuming her kissing as soon as the last syllable slipped out.

"Pyrrha! S-Stop…" Jaune said frustratedly, rolling off of her.

"What is it Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, dropping her alluring act.

"I just— We shouldn't be doing this! You just died and we're both—it's not right!"

Pyrrha frowned disappointedly, sighing and shaking the antsy energy out of her limbs. "I-I would understand if you didn't want to, but I don't think that's the case. I think you're just scared because I died. You care so much about me, so you see me as someone who needs to be protected. But I'm not; I've had plenty of time to think about this, living and unliving. So, Jaune, if it's alright with you, just let me have this."

Both of their faces had adopted a dusting of pink by the time Pyrrha finished speaking. Jaune looked at her, not so subtly wide-eyed, while Pyrrha herself kept a slight frown present in her brow.

"Gee, what am I supposed to say to that… I'm sorry; I didn't realize I was looking at you like that," Jaune conceded, looking away dejectedly.

"It's okay, Jaune," Pyrrha insisted, placing a reassuring arm on his shoulder. "I don't mind if you have a few ideas kicking around in your head about me, as long as you listen to the real me first."

Emerald met cerulean, their eyes reflecting each other back at themselves. Before Jaune knew any better Pyrrha was crawling toward him. Her face got closer and closer and he shrunk back, backpedaling on all fours. His back hit bark—the oak tree's boughs stretching out above him.

"Where are you going?" Pyrrha asked him with a smirk.

"I'm just a little nervous, Pyrrha," Jaune admitted, his hand rubbing the nape of his neck.

"Don't be," Pyrrha rejoined quickly, moving to him gracefully and pinning his wrists against the tree trunk. It was rough upon his skin, but nowhere near as vivid as her touch. "This isn't a big deal—it's just fun," she said, giving Jaune a reassuring look while basically straddling him.

"Okay," Jaune said, returning a small smile. He squirmed a bit, trying to find a comfortable position while his legs were pinned by Pyrrha's, her plaid skirt draped over them both.

Pyrrha smiled back before leaning back into the crook of his neck.

They settled back down, nestled each other, their backs up against the tree. They were both heaving, trying to catch their breaths as they leaned their heads together. Pyrrha's shirt was undone while Jaune's was completely off, discarded beside his hoodie. Their hair was somehow even further mussed; its matted and sweaty red and gold tangling together. Pyrrha took Jaune's hand and their fingers laced together.

"Well, at least we don't have to worry about safe sex," Jaune lamely offered.

Pyrrha looked at him with the same incredulous grin she gave him at the dance. "I suppose not," she said, her voice mirthful.

Jaune darkened once again, asking, "Would you—whether or not it was with me—would you have wanted kids if you were still in Remnant?"

"Oh, I don't know," Pyrrha sighed, leaning back into the oak's rough, unobtrusive bark. She ran her free hand through her moist bangs, coming them back into her hair. "I guess I never really thought about it much; it all seemed so far away. It still does. Hypothetically, maybe, if I had lived in a time of peace then I might have settled down, had kids—maybe even adopted. I'm just not sure; I hardly even knew the social side of life."

"I know what'cha mean. It might have been nice, to be a parent someday—my family would hardly have been opposed, seven sisters and all," Jaune chuckled. "But with things the way they are now… no, no; it doesn't seem right."

"Yes, it's hard not to see the folly in childrearing amidst all this," Pyrrha agreed. She slipped her hand from his own, buttoning up her dress shirt.

Jaune pulled his jeans back on and reached over for his black undershirt, falling short and flopping down onto the grass. Looking back he saw Pyrrha's scarlet tresses silhouetted against the vivid blue sky beyond the clouds. She was buttoning the last few buttons on her shirt, a particularly pensive expression on her face.

He pulled his t-shirt back on and rolled back over to her, saying, "Pyrrha, aaarrgh! You just seem so calm about everything. Are you sure you're okay with being dead?"

Pyrrha finished with her shirt and said, "Well, I'm not okay-okay with it. I'm mad that I lost—that really fucking hurt, haha."

Upon her utterance Jaune adopted another guilt-ridden look which made her regret elaborating immediately.

"And of course I wish I were back in Remnant, rebuilding and fighting alongside all of you. I wish I could visit my mom and dad in Mistral and tell them I'm okay. That what happened with Penny was a terrible accident, but I'm okay," Pyrrha said sorrowfully. "But, all in all, I think I'm pretty lucky. I still exist and I can still be with you."

Jaune nodded, "Yeah, yeah I suppose it is lucky that you're still here—well I'm lucky at least."

"Jauuuneeee!" Pyrrha whined exasperatedly.

"Sorry, sorry; we're lucky… though I still think you got the short end of the partner stick," Jaune said.

Pyrrha shot Jaune an admonishing look, still worried about his recent depressive tendencies, but relented, not wanting to argue. She just pulled him back to the tree and cuddled up to him, their legs spread out on the grass.

"Besides, at least that woman didn't disintegrate my body or anything—my parents will be wanting that," Pyrrha said.

"Yeah, at least we have that," Jaune concurred. "Y'know, I could talk to them for you."

Pyrrha looked at him, surprised, "I don't know, Jaune… I'm not sure how that would even work and it could just be more painful for them. Maybe we could just write a letter for now? From me—pretend I wrote it before the battle."

"If… that's what you want," Jaune assented.

"So, I saw Ren and Nora..." Pyrrha awkwardly spoke up after a time, "I've been wondering: is everyone else okay?"

"Wait, you mean, you don't know?" Jaune asked, bewildered.

"No, why would I know?" Pyrrha offered back.

"Well, I don't know—can't you look down through the clouds or something?" Jaune asked in disbelief.

"No, Jaune, I can't just look down through the clouds," Pyrrha deadpanned. "All I've gleaned is what I saw through you—just an afternoon."

"Alright, well; everyone else is alive. Except that Penny girl, but you… yeah," Jaune said compassionately. He saw Pyrrha's despondent look, but decided to press on. "Ozpin is just... missing; we don't know what happened to him after he fought that woman."

Pyrrha grumbled indistinctly as Jaune continued, "Ren, Nora, and Ruby all got beat up pretty bad, but they're alright. Ruby saved you, actually."

Pyrrha quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, I mean almost saved you. She went up to the top of Beacon Tower to save you, but was too late, Weiss said."

"Ruby…" Pyrrha mused.

"A little bit after I got out of the locker there was this brilliant light from the tower. I didn't realize until later, but it must have been Ruby: she defeated that woman and froze the dragon like a statue," Jaune explained.

"Ruby did all that?" Pyrrha asked.

"Yeah, crazy isn't it? Anyway, she and Yang went home to Patch. They were both unconscious, but definitely alive," Jaune said.

"Why were Ruby and Yang unconscious…?" Pyrrha asked warily.

Jaune squirmed a little and spoke, "For Ruby I guess it was just the stress of whatever she did. Yang, well, Yang lost her arm."

"Oh my god, that's terrible..." Pyrrha said, sympathetically rubbing her right arm slowly.

"Yeah. I haven't heard from her since the battle—Ren, Nora, and I have been in Vale rebuilding this whole time—but I know she's devastated," Jaune said darkly.

"Everything we did and we still lost; all from a rigged tournament match!" Pyrrha said, angrily now. "And they did that to Yang… What was—did I even do anything by sacrificing myself, Jaune!? Did Beacon—did the Transmit hold?"

Jaune looked into her hurt emerald eyes, wincing, and briefly shook his head.

"Damn! Damn, just—" Pyrrha lashed out, slamming her fist into the tree trunk beside her. She put her head in her hands, frustratedly, and said, "It's just not fair." The sound of sniffling and quiet tears betrayed her feelings.

Jaune was lost for words. He hadn't seen Pyrrha this upset since they spoke before her match with Penny—and even he hadn't known what to do. For want of recourse, Jaune placed his left hand on her knee, trying to tentatively connect with her.

"Pyrrha; things suck right now. But you know, I do feel lucky. I've been so worried about you ever since the finals started. You saw—felt—how messed up I was after you died. I couldn't have gone on like that. So I just want you to know that I feel so, so lucky to just be here with you now. I missed you," Jaune emphatically said.

Pyrrha stopped crying quietly and broke out into more audible sobs. "I'm… sorry," she managed between sobs.

Jaune wrapped his right arm around Pyrrha's back and pulled them both together. "You told me once that everyone needs help from time to time. I know you try to keep everything to yourself, but it's not wrong to show emotion once in a while—I'm here for you."

Pyrrha leaned into Jaune's chest, taking comfort in his embrace as her sobs subsided. Her head upon his breast, she said, "You're right. I guess… I'm not okay. You don't know how scary it's been for me. Not being here, no, but being here by myself! I feared I would be trapped all alone for eternity."

Jaune stroked her hair, murmuring, "I'm here," into the top of her head.

Pyrrha's voice adopted a hurt tone, "And now, to learn that I didn't change anything? That I didn't do anything to mitigate my mistake at the tournament? That everyone was hurt anyway!? ARRUGH!"

Pyrrha's snarl of frustration reverberated into his chest, sending vibrations throughout. It surprised Jaune, but he figured it was good for her to finally open up a bit.

"I just feel so sad, and hurt, and stupid—" Pyrrha trailed off.

Jaune continued stroking her long, unbound scarlet mane, working out the tangles and a few oak leaves. Pyrrha eventually pulled herself from his embrace, settling back against the tree once again. She leaned her left side against Jaune—him mirroring her gesture—and took his hand. She tilted her head towards his; her deep emerald eyes mirroring his cerulean as he looked back at her.

"It's fucked up, but when I felt you, lost without me, hurting? After I understood what I was feeling, it made me glad," Pyrrha admitted. "I was so glad that you missed me like that. I felt… cared for. Not alone. I just don't want to be alone."

Jaune slid over Pyrrha's leg to sit in front of her, his head rested back upon her breast. Pyrrha was confused by the gesture until Jaune spoke up, "I'll be here with you, every night. I promise. I think we'd both be lost without each other."

Pyrrha wrapped her arms around his stomach and squeezed him tightly, setting her chin atop his tawny crown.

"That's enough for me," Pyrrha said softly.

The pair rested, Jaune against Pyrrha and Pyrrha against the tree trunk. Jaune closed his eyes to her warm touch and the sound of oak leaves rustling in the breeze, slipping into sleep.

Instantly Jaune opened his eyes anew. Taking in his surroundings, he found himself back in the city hall attic, but now the ever-present moonlight was replaced with a light pink glow. The dawning rays streamed around the figure of Ren, who was standing over him flanked by an unusually sedate Nora.

"Jaune, it's time to go."

Jaune just stared at him for a moment. He felt fine; more rested than he had in weeks, actually. He looked down at his body, wondering if it had all been a dream. He remembered her words, how happy and hurt and alive she had been.

No, no it couldn't have been a dream, he decided. He would believe, believe in her, at least.

"Yeah, let's go."

Pyrrha leaned back, pressing herself into the oak's bark, smiling. With a small, fond sigh Pyrrha said to herself, "Oh, that boy is going to get himself killed."

Author's Note: Haha, I hope that that was easy enough to follow! It's weird writing writing that's intentionally misleading. And don't even get me started on keeping the pronouns consistent in the Cinder fight! Be glad I read my own writing, haha. Just to be clear, everything from the line "He had killed her." on is Jaune as Pyrrha while experiencing her last hours alive. The 'her' he killed is Penny. I wanted to avoid using 'Jaune' and 'Pyrrha,' as well as keep descriptions vague, for most of the first half of the story to heighten this effect. You should have been able to figure their positions out sometime after Jaune as Pyrrha climbs into the aura transfer pod.

Also the title is a pun. Because I like puns.

I'm truly not sure—and I'd like to hear from you—if this all made the story an unintelligible mess to read. But, hey: it was fun to write ;) I'd also like to know what you thought of their exchange. The usual stuff: Did you think the dialogue felt natural? Were they in character? Did the drama fall flat?