Pyrrha wanted the knocking to stop. She could barely hear who was on the other side, having crumpled herself into a ball atop the furthest corner of her bed. Knees pulled up and head buried between them, she had wrapped herself up too much to bother locking her door so when it creaked open, she broke from her brooding to address her guest.

"Please, I said I don't want to be bothered—"

Her protests died in her throat when she saw Jaune standing in the doorway. There was a smaller figure she could see hiding behind his tall frame. It was the girl from yesterday, the same girl who was held hostage along with him.

"Jaune?"

"Hey, Pyrrha," he greeted. "You haven't been outside for a while. I thought maybe you needed some company. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

Her mind said no but her heart said yes. She wanted company to relieve her contrition from killing four people as much as she shut others out so she could mope about killing four people. Her drive to do anything for today—or any of the coming days for that matter—had all but dried up under the withering sun of her own unforgiving conscience.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" he asked again.

Pyrrha wanted to decline. Instead, she wordlessly nodded. While she was very much grateful that her friend was seated so close to her, she was unsure of the short rosy-cheeked girl standing uneasily by her dresser.

Jaune gestured at her. "Pyrrha, this is Ruby. She's, uh, well, you know. You remember her."

The Greek sharpshooter studied Ruby. The girl was short, petite, nervous, and clearly lacking in sleep if the dark rings around her eyes were any indication. She kept her hands behind her back while she shuffled awkwardly on the floor. Without a doubt, Ruby was bothered by yesterday's events. Much like her.

Pyrrha spoke up even when her throat was dry. "Hello."

Ruby waved shakily. "H-hi. My name's Ruby Rose. It's really nice to meet you. I, uh, I h-heard about what you did and I, um..."

The sharpshooter noticed Jaune nodding at Ruby. Before she could ask, the short girl withdrew her hands from behind her back. A small wooden box sat wrapped under her slim fingers. She opened the lid to reveal a metal cylinder pressed against a metal comb. A black marble pommel bulged off a lever to the side.

"... It's for you. I hope you like it." Ruby stammered.

"Ruby couldn't sleep," Jaune explained as she placed by her feet. "So she spent most of the night making this for you."

Pyrrha found it difficult to speak. Crude metalwork by the looks of it but when she wound the crank, the cylinder spun against the comb playing a melody that banished the doldrums. "... A music box?"

"Yeah. Not something I usually make but, um," mumbled the shorter girl. "I don't know how else to thank you..."

"You...you made this? For me?"

Jaune's laugh was weak. "Actually, the blacksmith made the mold a long time ago. Ruby found it and finished it up. I helped with a few nooks here and there. We hope you like it."

She did. She truly did. The Greek sharpshooter listened until the spool run its course to the last note. She was smiling now, her cheeks graced with happier tears. "I love it. Thank you."

"That's great!" they both cheered.

Jaune reined in his joy and held her hand, startling her. "Hey. I know what you're going through. I'm going through the same. So's Ruby. Listen, you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you. Ruby's here, too. She wants to help you up as much as I would."

Pyrrha's lips quivered. "B-but, I..."

"It's already done," the blonde assured her with his warm, soothing voice. "Can't mope forever, you know. So we're going to deal with this together, you hear?"

The sharpshooter breathed steadily. He was right. She should stop feeling guilty over the reality of the world. This was the Western American frontier, not the guarded hills of Athens. She eyed them both with her mouth curling up for the first time since yesterday morning.

"Yes," she declared, swinging her legs over her bed. "We shall."

Nora was not expecting any more visitors. And neither was Ren.

The two postal couriers were grateful for that Mayor Ozpin and Miss Goodwitch took time off their morning dues to personally see to their well-being at the clinic. They were, however, surprised when the town freelancer Jaune Arc, the circus performer Pyrrha Nikos, and a timid girl named Ruby Rose followed after them with a mind to see how they were doing. Not because they had to, but because they wanted to. They were concerned.

It was so heartwarming, the Norwegian had to grip hard on the edges of her stool to keep from jumping up to wrap them all in a tight hug. Mayor Ozpin smiled as he directed the three guests to their ward on his way out the door.

Nora and Ren had only met Jaune fairly recently yet he was already taking this much effort to come check up on them. Not because someone asked. Not because of pity. But because he was really worried. And so was Pyrrha, a girl she thought she could ever meet in person because of her being such a prized performer. Also tagging along with the two was this girl whose cheerful and jubilant demeanor resonated perfectly with the Norwegian.

Had Nora been exhausted, she would have wept at their goodwill. No one, not even their fellow mail carriers, had ever gone to this length for their sakes. Beacon had so far the kindest folk around. She and Ren thoroughly enjoyed the company, laughs and all.

"So how long until you're back on the saddle?" Jaune inquired, an hour into their fellowship.

"I am hoping within the week," Ren answered, bedridden but well enough to sit upright. "I am able to walk and by tomorrow, I will be allowed to roam. However, I have been strongly encouraged to rest. Preferably at the inn."

"You do not have to push yourself so hard," Pyrrha said. "Take the time to rest. I am sure your employers would understand."

Nora flinched slightly at that. Despite the existing laws regarding migrant labor, there were taskmasters out there who were not very keen on abiding by them. She had more than enough bitter memories of laying down train tracks to never simply forget such things.

Ren let out a quick chuckle. "You have a point. I personally do not want to waste good working time."

"If that's how you feel about it, how about lending a hand around town?" Jaune raised. "Nothing really heavy or backbreaking. Running errands for this and that. Like what I do. Pays much enough to keep me fed."

The Chinese mail carrier planted his chin on his fist. "There does not seem to be much labor to suit my circumstances."

"You know," drawled his bubbly partner, "we have a sharpshooter here...so if Pyrrha wouldn't mind, she could teach us how to shoot better!"

"Is that a good idea?" Jaune remarked. "I mean, Pyrrha's—"

"It's fine," the Greek chirped. "I will gladly help you improve your marksmanship."

Jaune and Ruby shared a worried glance. "Are you sure?" the latter prodded.

Pyrrha radiated a hospitable air with her meek, disarming smile. "There is not much to do with the circus closed for the next few days. The others are busy helping repair the damages to the bank. I myself am not very good with carpentry and the sorts so there is little for me to contribute."

"That's great!" Nora cheered. "We can spend the next few days learning from the master."

"I suppose we can work with that," Ren mused.

"Um, I don't have a gun," Jaune raised.

"Neither do I," Ruby added.

The sharpshooter paused in thought. "I have my rifle and my revolver. We can share. And I have more than enough bullets to spare."

The blonde freelancer rested his hand on her shoulder. "Pyrrha, you don't have to do this. You should save your money for better things."

Pyrrha beamed at him. "Nonsense. It is the best I can do to help."

Jaune scratched the back of his head. "But—"

Nora nudged him on the arm. "Come on, Jaune-Jaune! She's doing this for us. Out of the goodness of her heart. You wouldn't turn that down, would you? Besides, it helps everyone! Ren and I can learn how to shoot better and you and Ruby can learn how to shoot."

"I can shoot," Ruby squeaked in protest. She shrunk slightly when all pairs of eyes centered on her. Oh, how she wished she brought her red hooded cloak from home, the perfect solution to social embarrassment. "... My dad was a soldier. He still has his guns from the war and he taught me and my sister a thing or two."

"How often did you practice?" chirped the Norwegian.

The youngest among them awkwardly dragged the soles of her shoes across the floorboards. "... Once every...couple months."

Nora, suddenly vibrating with energy, threw her hands in the air with a loud shout. "Well, that says it! You, you, Ren, and me are going to take gun-manship lessons from Pyrrha!"

"I don't think 'gun-manship' is a word." Ren knew he was ignored even as he quietly threw in, "And it's 'Ren and I.'"

"I suppose that settles the matter," the Greek concluded. Highlighted by her creamy bodice with her arms neatly folded over her lap hidden under a frilly orange bustle and topped with a feathered bonnet, it would be out of anyone's mind to even think that she was highly skilled with a rifle. Then again, with the advent of personalities the likes of Belle Starr and Raven Branwen, Pyrrha's lethality with guns would come off as less of a surprise.

"This is to better defend ourselves," interjected the Chinese courier. "There is no doubt, we will be encountering more and more danger in our lives and in our livelihoods. These skills would save our lives when it comes to it."

Pyrrha nodded morosely as did Ruby. Nora beamed brighter. "Yeah, Ren gets all philosophical when he's in the mood."

"But he has a point," Jaune surrendered with a shrug. "This is for our own survival and God help us if others force our hands. Besides, what are friends for, right?"

The rest of them grunted neutrally at that. Friends. They were all friends. And friends helped each other out no matter what.

POP! PKOW! POW!

"... How did you miss?"

"I don't know!"

Ruby had minimal experience with firearms thanks to her worrywart father but even she knew that what she saw was too ridiculous to be considered a mere lack of skill. The empty whiskey bottles sat mockingly unbroken atop the rock...three paces away from the smoking barrel of Ren's revolver shaking in Jaune's grip.

"Uh, misfire?" Ren suggested sympathetically, sitting on a stool carried all the way out here while a hand cradled his sides.

"At that distance?" Nora poked. "More like he missed."

"But how did he miss?" Ruby threw in.

"I can still hear you and, to answer your question, Ruby, I don't know how," whined the blonde freelancer. "Ugh, merde."

Poor Jaune. Ruby could only feel sorry for him even though it was astounding how none of the targets were hit despite the distance being an inch shorter than her arm.

Pyrrha, a fragile yet patient smile tinted by red hues gracing her cheeks, stepped in, holding his hands with hers and guiding his aim. "Let's try again."

Jaune sighed. "Okay."

For all her solid control, the sharpshooter had little of any when it came to trying to be discreet about having to touch another person's hands. Let alone, a man's. Though her voice was even when relaying instructions, the way her fingers guided his betrayed her facade.

Ruby could tell. A quick glance to Ren and Nora showed they knew too.

POP!

Thwack!

Neigh. Tumble. Crunch.

"Goddamn it, son of a bitch!"

Ruby froze. As did everyone else. The bottles were still standing. The barrel was smoking. Pyrrha's hands remained clasped over Jaune's. Every face was locked in a nervous dreaded mien until five necks slowly creaked over their shoulders towards a mass that crumpled into the dirt nearby. A tall rider wriggled angrily underneath a now dead horse, the beast's eye socket eviscerated by the ricocheting bullet.

"Just my goddamn luck!" growled the unkempt man.

A familiar unkempt man.

With a familiar voice.

And a familiar silver cross dangling off his neck.

Ruby took a dry minute to swallow the lump in her throat so she could speak. "... Uncle Qrow?"

The tall, gruff, burly man that was 'Uncle Qrow' crawled out from under his stallion. Ringed, red eyes glared fiercely, bouncing from person to person only to suddenly soften at Ruby. He sighed into the ground and pulled himself up to stand on a limp.

"Ruby?" he gargled, spitting out a mix of saliva and dirt. "The hell are you doin' out here, kid? Where's Yang? Where's Tai?"

Ruby shrunk and waved awkwardly back. "Uh, y-yeah, about that, eh, hah-hah. Um...things happened?"

Qrow had a look of disbelief on his face. Even as he stood crookedly on a cracked foot, he pushed his arm into his coat and pulled out a flask. No one questioned what was in it. After a long swig, he answered, "Right. Things happened. Things just happened and all the way out here, away from Patch."

"I, uh—"

Qrow, apparently, had been drinking on the highway. He threw an accusatory finger over her shoulder towards the other four. "And which one o' you dumb sons a bitches shot my goddamn horse!?"

"It wasn't my fault, sir!" Jaune screamed in a fit of panic, holding up the incriminating gun, smoke still visibly rising from the barrel.

Ruby cringed as she held back her uncle. Pyrrha shrunk into herself while Ren kept a solid grip on Nora's wrist to keep her from doing anything impulsive.

"You goddamn son of a bitch!" Qrow flared. "You got my damn horse falling on my good leg! I'm crippled now!"

"You're not crippled," the young inventor tried to deflect. "You're just, uh, sprained?"

For a moment, it seemed Qrow was on the verge of whipping out his big irons. And that terrified Ruby as, among her circle of friends, only she knew all too well how masterful her uncle was with a gun even when drowning in drink. Then, as easily as the snap of a finger, the large man turned around, hobbled over to where the deceased beast lay bleeding, and dropped unceremoniously onto his rear. He gestured his flask at Jaune.

"You owe me a new horse, kid. And treatment for my shattered ankle, too."

Ruby sighed in relief. Thank God her uncle had a level head most of the time.

"Whew!" wheezed Nora. "To think this could get any worse."

Jaune chuckled nervously with his hand still holding tight on the gun and finger dangerously rubbing the trigger. "Yeah. Um, hey, at least it was your horse and not you, Mister Crow. I really am sorry about your horse, I—"

BANG!

Thwack.

Ka-plunk!

The flask Qrow was drinking from flew from his grasp as he recoiled his hand back. As quickly as he checked on his still in-tact fingers, he snapped at him. "Goddamn it, kid! Don't wave your six-shooter around like that when you're talking to somebody!"

"Oh God! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!"

"Shut up!"

"Please don't kill me!"

"Shut up, kid! You're giving me a headache!"

"So you won't kill me?"

"I will if you won't shut up!"

"Okay!" Ruby loudly interjected, falling on top of her uncle's hands before they reached any lower to where his pistols were holstered. "How about we take a break? Sure's been a hot day today, huh?"

Everyone was too strung up to argue.

"Ja!" chirped Nora with an overly enthusiastic fist pumped over her shoulder. "We'll take a break, won't we, Ren?"

Ren sighed. "Sure."

Pyrrha stammered, having failed to notice how mechanical she was standing stiffer than a Southern belle at a plantation ball. "Naí, naí, fysiká! Rest sounds, uh, lovely!"

Jaune merely whimpered, too afraid to say anything more with the gun still in his hand.

Ruby decided it was best to address this situation with her family herself. She stooped down and grabbed Qrow's arm, pulling him up to stand. "I'll, uh, I'll take my uncle back to Beacon. To get treated for his, um, accident."

Qrow snorted at that.

"Sounds about right," agreed the Norwegian. "You go on ahead. We'll stay here and, uh, make sure Jaune doesn't shoot himself in the foot. Lykke til!"

The young inventor fidgeted with nervous grins and waved goodbye as she endured half the weight of her uncle over her shoulder. While she very much appreciated the arrival of her favorite uncle, she did not miss having to be on 'Qrow duty' as her father and sister often put it. It was not much different than latrine duty and Ruby had done her fair share of it growing up on the family farm with the outhouse. That was not to say that Ruby missed Qrow. She missed him greatly as he was always away doing what he did. She did not miss having to drag his drunken, crippled bum all the way back to town.

Oh well, at least he was here in Vale County. And that cheered her up even more.

"Wow. That's Ruby's uncle? He's scary."

"I'll say. He looked like he could kill me with that look he was giving me."

"You did shoot his horse."

"It was misfortunate happenstance, I'm sure."

Jaune, Pyrrha, Ren, and Nora paused to stare at the deceased stallion. A pool of blood surrounded its head, filled up from the gaping hole where its eye had once been. Already a vulture was circling overhead.

"You still have one bullet left in that chamber."

"I suppose I have one more shot," groaned the blonde freelancer as he took steady aim at the centermost bottle on the rock. The first three were just feeling for how pistols work. The next two were, as Ren put it, 'misfortunate happenstance' that happened to bounce off the environment in order to spite a passing rider with two guns larger than the one he was holding. This final one, his sixth bullet, would be his defining moment.

Or so he thought it would be if his damn hands would stop shaking.

BANG!

Thwack!

The four instinctively ducked at the feared rogue bullet. Which apparently was not rogue as it dug itself deep into the rock to chip off enough stone holding the bottles up.

Jaune watched baffled as the three whiskey glasses tumbled off the abused granite and fell onto the ground with the middle one finally shattering to pieces. Overhead, the vulture squawked.

He turned to his three friends with a confused grin. "That counts as a hit, right?"

ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: March 8, 2019

LAST EDITED: March 20, 2019

INITIALLY UPLOADED: March 20, 2019

Translations:

Merde = French cuss word

Naí, naí, fysiká! = Yes, yes, of course! [Greek]

Lykke til! = Good luck! [Norwegian]