Not Even Aura Can Heal All Wounds

By wildstraydog

Chapter Eighteen: Dissociation

All he heard was the dripping of blood pattering on the burnt rubble. Jaune let go of his rapier and staggered away, his eyes wide in disbelief and anguish, trembling in sorrow as Burgundy's corpse dropped on the ground. The fire still crackling in spurts across the village filled the void in his head—he looked down and examined the crusting blood on his gloved hands. Not Grimm blood which contained a different red hue.

Another person's.

Jaune collapsed on his knees and clenched his fists, struggling to keep them from shaking. He wanted to break down and cry, to look at himself in the mirror and question everything he stood for. But the soft but dirtied warm hand resting on his shoulder told him otherwise. All his strength wasn't enough to keep back the tears sliding down his flustered cheeks. Heavy panting became steady, and he forced himself back onto his wobbly feet.

Weiss helped him over to Ruby's unconscious form and took away his rapier, sheathing her own so she could wipe it down. Jaune held in a long breath to calm his nerves and picked up Ruby again, checking her vitals to make sure she was still breathing. His newly awakened semblance, or whatever bright light that consumed his body closed most of the wounds. He pressed her delicate head against his chest and beckoned for Weiss to follow; he could break down later.

"Jaune..." Weiss barely whispered.

"W-we, can talk about this later..." He stuttered.

She returned a solemn nod and followed after him, briefly looking back at the lifeless form behind them. Weiss would never blame him for what happened—Burgundy had ever intention to kill her and Ruby. Yet... she was doubting herself, going over the situation millions of times to come up with a different outcome. If she had acted faster, Jaune wouldn't be in this predicament, she could have incapacitate Burgundy and left him unconscious. Weiss fervently believed she was partly to blame for this.

The ground shook underneath them, and Jaune grasped Ruby's figure tighter. An explosion sounded off not far in the distance with a cloud of red smoke ascending in the sky. He squinted and made out the writhing King Taijitu Dr. Merlot rode on—his throat went dry and all thought about Burgundy vanished. How cruel was it of him to forget about the man he just killed? Regardless, he didn't have time to mull over the events.

"We should hurry, they probably need our help."

Weiss stepped in front of Jaune, gazing at him with shimmering icy blue eyes full of sorrow and pity. The irises were shattered like pieces of ice, losing all the innocence and vigor he knew her for.

"Are you sure you're okay? Look, I know this isn't the time but... don't think about what happened—focus on the objective, make sure no one else dies today." Weiss's voice shuddered, and the heiress trained her stare at the pebbles on the ground.

"Thank you, Weiss." He closed his eyes and sighed.

The two of them ran through the swampy lands and puddles of mud. Weiss ignored the sullied water splashing onto her skirt and pressed on, avoiding the uneven branches and conspicuous holes where her heels might land. The sound of explosives and snapping branches drew closer, and she looked back at Jaune to make sure he was okay. Jaune covered ruby's head with both arms, huddling her lithe figure close to his beating chest. He wouldn't allow any harm to come to her.

"Blake, look out!" Yang's shout pierced through the trees.

They emerged into the clearing where the village sat, acquainted with the broken down houses and gate from the earlier battle. The King Taijitu's tail slammed on the ground several feet from her, sending a slight tremor through the ground. She caught Professor Goodwitch use her semblance to lift pieces of splintered wood from the houses to launch at the Grimm. With the element of surprise, Weiss acted.

She lifted Myrtenaster and shoved it in the ground. The intricate glyph hovered above the dirt and spun in a clockwise motion, sending a line of ice toward the Grimm. The frozen water trailed up the King Taijitu, inching across the lower half of its body. Professor Goodwitch used the opening to Merlot's dismay and flung the sharpened down pieces of wood at the Grimm. The splinter chunks stabbed into the belly of the Taijitu and exited through its other side.

Blood sprayed onto the ground and across the bits of ice on the Grimm. It flung back and forth and went rigid, kicking off Dr. Merlot from its back and seizing up. The beast let out a deafening shrill and collapsed across the opening, shooting up piles of dust and mud.

Dr. Merlot dusted of his shoulders and furrowed his brows with a wrinkly frown. The robotic eye blinked in intervals, letting off a soft red glow and observing the rest of the surroundings. Despite his recent setback at losing the Grimm and his experimental subjects, he chuckled, massaging the tip of his beard. Weiss couldn't believe how oblivious he seemed, outnumbered by everyone in the village.

"What's so funny?!" Yang called out. Her lilac eyes lost focus and honed in on Ruby in Jaune's arms, taking a red tinge akin to a bright flame. She wanted to rush over but Blake held her back.

"All of you, so hopeless to what lies in the future."

"What...?" Jaune mumbled.

"Leave the talking to me children," Professor Goodwitch ordered, slapping her riding crop into her palm with a mighty snap. She took careful steps forward and released a bothered sigh, pushing up her glasses on the ridge of her nose.

"What happened to you Merlot—it's as if you're consumed by some lust for power. Forget about the past, if you surrender I'll put in a word with the authorities." Jaune scoffed at the professor's attempts.

The old doctor looked up at the cloudy sky and closed his lone eye, taking in the cool breeze against his wrinkling skin covered in patches of gray hair along his neck. He reached into his lab coat and pulled out a strange looking device with a metal handle and trigger, connected together by a series of intertwining red and blue strings. The synthetic eye of his dulled in its glow, shooting out a few sparks with its last breath.

"Do you remember our days at Beacon, Glynda?" His rustic voice quivered. From his dry lips a trickle of blood seeped out, slowly dripping onto the dirt.

"Yes, they were much simpler times—you were always fiddling away in the forge. Now you've manipulated the lives of young children." Her bright green eyes wavered, losing their authoritative luster.

"But it was needed... for what is to come." Merlot coughed.

Glynda's studious eyes trailed down to the harrowing device clutched in Merlot's shaken hands. Sweat dripped across his clammy palms and onto the surface of the metal, lending it a reflective property.

"Children, step back!"

Merlot forced out a broken chuckle. "Goodbye, Glynda—all hail the mother of all Grimm!" Merlot squeezed the trigger in his right hand and looked to the sky once again with a lost smile defining all of his wrinkles.

A flash of white light burst out from where Merlot stood. The ground erupted in a massive explosion, launching bits of dust and pieces of rubble from the surrounding buildings destroyed by the Grimm. A plume of dark smoke briefly consumed by a red mist shot up into the air, blackening the sky. A rain of dirt pattered the ground and stuck in Jaune's messy blonde hair. As the dust settled, a soot covered silhouette outlined the mud where Dr. Merlot stood. Only a few lumps of fleshy mass remained by the shrapnel produced from the blast.

Weiss rubbed the grime off her eyes and muddy cheeks to take in the absurdity. Dr. Merlot actually blew himself up with some explosive device hidden away in his lab coat. She let the adrenaline in her system flush away in her body, and let out even breaths to calm herself down. Weiss ignored the heavy clumps weighing down her ponytail and walked over to Yang, finding the brawler flat on her back with a look of disbelief washed across her adventurous features.

Blake snapped her attention to Jaune, finding the blonde carrying Ruby over to the other survivors from the village. His blue eyes were dead, glassed over by an extreme sorrow as he forced his weak body to march over to the building. The mission was a success... the source of the Grimm had been located and Dr. Merlot was dead.

So why did Blake feel so pathetic?

Drip, Drip

A torrent of rain fell onto the village, pouring at uncontrollable speed and soaking the patches of dirt and busted support beams and wood strewn from the battle. Those unaffected in the village milled about in the houses still erect near the gate, with only a few volunteers offering to pick up debris and cover the bodies with leather mats. A burial for the dead would have to wait until tomorrow—for now Jaune focused on treating the wounded inside Mayor Natsuhiko's house.

Since the downpour began, Jaune had been preoccupied with scurrying through the living room addressing bandages, applying morphine and cooling burn marks on victims' scorched bodies. The occasional moan of pain alerted him to when somebody needed assistance. Professor Goodwitch was also kind enough to pitch in with first aid treatment.

"Mr. Arc," Glynda shouted from across the room. "This man needs a tourniquet." She was kneeled over a man and covered in patches of blood on her white blouse. The professor gently pushed him down with rubber gloves and inched his gashed arm to lie stationary on his rising chest.

Jaune dressed another wound on a young girl's left cheek and patted it down with a bit of alcohol. She winced, but maintained her innocent smile. He stood up and ruffled her messy auburn tresses, walking over to Professor Goodwitch to wrap the man's arm.

"Are there many left?" He reached into his bag and pulled out a soft white cloth, and quickly sterilized it. Jaune applied pressured, then took hold of the leather wrap near the professor and wrapped it two inches above the man's wound.

The wrap inserted in the buckle mechanism with a click—he grabbed the metal rod on the stained blanket on the floor and twisted it until the bleeding finally receded. He let out a struggled sigh and wiped his brow, using the bottle of alcohol to clean the skin.

"This should be the last one."

"Waste of good whiskey," Natsuhiko snidely remarked, looking down at the villagers from his stairs. He lifted the mug in his trembling hands and savored the burning liquid, elated by the sting it shot through the surface of his tongue.

"It's thanks to you these people have shelter." Jaune insisted. Natsuhiko was callous and rude, but he still valued the people of the village. His young age was the only reason to account for his brashness and flirty ways.

"Yeah, whatever... we barely have a village left." Natsuhiko took another swig, dipping back his neck to take in the entire gulp.

"Can't you rebuild?" Jaune hesitantly asked.

"I can assist with that before we leave tomorrow." They looked at Professor Goodwitch and ignored her strained attempts to wring out a towel over a bucket. Jaune could notice a twinkling in her irises filled with a steadfast resolve.

"If it's alright with you Professor Goodwitch, I'm going to lie down upstairs." She nodded and returned back to her duties.

Jaune ascended the stairs, using the railing to move past Natsuhiko. The adrenaline in his system was finally washing away, allowing him to take in the situation with a clear mind. His throat felt dry and he released an audible gulp, ruffling his blonde locks free of clumps of dirt. His room was down the hall on the right, but it felt like miles as he hauled both feet to move in accordance with his brain.

He was so tired...

"Jaune, do you need help?" Blake's soft voice whispered through the darkness. She was waiting near the end of the hall with a candle firmly in her grasp. He noticed the dreary look in her amber orbs, the light within them faded after witnessing so much death.

"I'm fine, I just... need to reach my room."

The doorknob seemed far away, almost blurring into an intangible object in his sights. He felt his fingertips lightly touch metal but falling short—Jaune collapsed on his knees and slammed his face into the door. The pain was minimum, leaving only a small bruise that would fade thanks to his aura. Blake immediately rushed over and slipped her arms under his elbows to lift him up.

"You can barely walk."

"Thanks, I feel so... tired." He barely mumbled.

Blake pushed the door open and dragged his limp body across to the bed. She undid the tucked in sheets and lifted him under, kicking off his shoes. Jaune's weak blue eyes were puffing up and quivering; and he began to shake. She pulled up the sheets over his body and took his cold hand, feeling only an ounce of his usual warmth.

"Are you sick?"

Jaune sniffled. "No, I just, can't hold it in anymore—what happened out there, what I did-" Blake leaned in closer with a blush.

"Jaune, what happened?"

The haggard sigh escaping from his lips was muffled by the sheets up to his chin. He didn't dare look Blake in the eyes, not after what he done, breaking an oath he swore to uphold when he read Professor Peach's work.

"I killed a man, Blake, I took his life."

She held back a stunned reaction at his exasperated statement. There was more to the story. "What do you mean—Weiss said Burgundy was taken care of, are you saying you're the one who...?" Jaune shut his eyes.

"That was in self-defense!" Blake almost shouted.

"But-"

Blake scoffed. "No, you did nothing wrong, Weiss would have died—you saved all those villagers downstairs. Jaune... you're one of the strongest people I know." She panted after screaming her lungs off, ignoring the fluster she built up on her pale cheeks against the moonlight pouring in.

Jaune's tired expression relaxed into a comforting smile. A small line of tears slid down his cheek like the rain on the window in the room.

"Can you stay in here—with me?" Her breath hitched at the question. She felt her hands become sweaty, taken back by the rising hue creeping along her cheeks.

She didn't have time to ask why. Jaune already fell asleep with tears staining the side of his nose. Blake used her finger to flick them away on his lashes, and sighed at her internal resignation. She lifted the thick sheets carefully and slid under them next to Jaune, embracing him in a tight hug. Blake pushed down the blush dusting her cheeks and appreciated the warmth he exhibited, and his firm chest molded from training sessions with Weiss and her. Her slender fingers could have traced the outlines of his abs—while tempting, she knew better.

It was surprising, but she didn't feel uncomfortable... it felt natural. The activities and horrors of the day suddenly took hold of her body, exhausting every feature she struggled to maintain. Golden pearls fluttered in a battle to stay awake a little longer and enjoy the strength of Jaune's arms. She didn't stand a chance, succumbing to waves of drowsiness. Perhaps, she could get use to this if she tried.

Weiss gently shut the door behind her, careful to not force the aging hinges to creak. She popped off the golden tiara resting on her head and settled it on the table. Yang nodded in her direction at her entrance, and went back to caressing Ruby's red tipped locks. Sullen lilac eyes had signs of fatigue and dryness around the lids from Yang's tears. Weiss couldn't blame her, Ruby would have died if not for Jaune—and the resurgence of his semblance.

She made her way over to her bed and undid her ponytail, letting her snow-colored hair collapse atop the sheets. They were all tired and still recovering from shock... in her years as a child she never imagined witnessing a man get blown to chunks of flesh. Weiss shook her head, clearing the macabre image from her thoughts and concentrating on getting out of her mud stained clothes.

"How is she?"

Yang let out a drawn out sigh. "Okay, she's just resting—still hasn't woken up, probably won't until tomorrow I imagine. At least she won't have to remember what we saw." Her solemn reply hit Weiss, carving into the icy walls around her beating heart. Ruby was indeed lucky.

"How's Jaune...?

"I don't know, I haven't seen him in a while, he was busy treating some of the villagers downstairs. Why did they make us come here—we're too young for this." Weiss lamented. Of course they were training to be huntresses, to face the Grimm on the frontlines and confront the horrors the public masses not dare stare at.

But this... it was too much.

"Someone has to do it," Yang shot back. "I just wish Ruby could have stayed innocent for a while longer. And now Jaune—" Yang stopped midsentence and looked out the window, admiring the droplets of water slithering down the window pane.

"At least we return to Beacon tomorrow."

"And pretend nothing happened." Yang said.

Would they? She would definitely shove the imagery of Merlot's demise into the back of her brain. Their lives would return to the mundane activities of most students: fretting over homework and debating the finer goods of the cafeteria's latest attempt at making lunch. But was that so bad—it would give them a chance to be young again, to ignore the cruelties of the world.

And it allowed more time to properly train Jaune.

There she went thinking about the blonde doofus again.

What could she even say to him at this point? How do you rationalize the killing of another person—she had yet to stain her hands with blood or even stare into the lifeless eyes of a body. It was even more devastating to someone in his position, an individual whose mission it was to save people's lives and heal the sick.

But he had to!

Burgundy would have killed Ruby, she had no doubt. What Jaune did was not wrong, everyone knew this, even Professor Goodwitch. No one would fault him for his heroic actions exemplifying what all huntsman strived for. The rationalizing still did little to make her feel better, a sickening knot pulling the insides of her tiny stomach.

"We'll never forget what happened, Yang."

"I want to."

"Jaune was a hero today, nothing more." Weiss ended the conversation and marched over to her bed, throwing back the covers in a huff.

She bundled the covers tightly against her form, relishing in the warmth it provided. Yang would inevitable watch over her sister until she passed out, but Weiss would get a head start, practically forcing her eyelids shut. She would deny it front of everyone, but the familiar sensation of salt water dripping onto her cheeks was welcoming.