Remember how I said that I would release a chapter of Doom Driven by Sunday? Yeah...

I guess I enjoy writing this story more right now since it's new, I'm sure my crappy release schedule will stabilize soon. Also, people are responding to this story a lot better than they're responding to DD lol. I guess it's because DD has more of a niche fandom than straight up RWBY, you feel me?

Now to reply to the reviews...

Lots of people wanted the slash. Not that slash, but the slash that I mentioned at the author's note of last chapter. I probably won't include the slash. Sorry.

Some people want Jaune to be paired with Velvet... I don't know about that.

TheOneYouDontSee1: Hell yeah dude

Alvelvnor: I don't really do multi unless I have a really good in-story reason why. And I don't have one for this story. I hate harems btw so none of that either.

priceless22: I'm an Ozpin truther. I feel like he gets the short end of the stick in this community or at least in some prominent stories in the community. Looking at you Coeur...

Regulus Arms: Maybe

Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys the new chapter. I don't own RWBY... or do I? I don't. But maybe I do... Nope.

Chapter 2: Don't You Forget About Me

"Who are you?" Jaune rasped out before succumbing to a coughing fit, his dry throat straining from the words.

The sound evidently startled the large man as he practically jumped out of his seat in response to the disgusting sound, his eyes widened but never opened from their permanent, pronounced squint. The older man hastily poured the water from the jug into one of the two glasses on the nightstand before offering it to Jaune wordlessly before smoothing out his double-breasted coat and sitting back down on the chair causing the wooden object to let out a groan of pain at the man's weight.

"Thanks." said Jaune in relief after gulping down the contents of the glass, "Who are you?"

"Peter Port." said Peter Port, his loud voice resounding throughout the room causing Jaune to wince, "It's a pleasure to meet you, my boy."

"Same..." said the teenager quietly before hestitantly continuing, "But, like, who specifically are you? Why were you just sitting there watching me sleep?"

"Well, I was the huntsman who was sent to aid the citizens of Aballo in their plight against the Grimm menace. Perhaps you've heard of my exploits in the past?" he said with a proud grin that was concealed by his bushy moustache, ignoring Jaune's question.

"They only sent one huntsman? To deal with all those Grimm? Come to think of it, you do kind of look familiar..." mused the younger man, cupping his chin in thought.

"My boy, that paltry pack of Grimm would not stand a chance against a huntsman of my calibre." he proclaimed proudly, making Jaune feel slightly inadequate. After all, it had taken everything he had just to stop that one pack of Beowolves. "As for my looking familiar, I was also sent because I had visited Aballo in the past on some other business. It was about ten or twelve years ago, the headmaster had called me into his office to send me on a mission to search for a colleague of ours. While the others had been sent off in pairs, he knew of my skill and prowess in battle and naturally sent me by myself-"

"Wait- ten or twelve years ago... That was around the time that huntress showed up... Does that mean you were looking for her? Did you ever find her? She's what inspired to me to be a huntsman. Or- try to to be a huntsman." asked Jaune curiously only to wince at the expression on the huntsman's face.

His moustache drooped, covering what no doubt would have been a frown as Port looked to the floor with sadness, "Unfortunately, despite all of the efforts of my comrades and I, we were unable to find Ms. Rose. Her trail stopped at the wilds around Aballo and your fellow townspeople were the last to have ever seen her. We had to hold a funeral for her without a body. A shame, that, she was one of the brightest members of our community."

Jaune gasped at that, quickly turning his head away from the sad, drooping form of the elder huntsman. He glared down at his sheets as he fought back the stinging tears in his eyes. In his dreams he always imagined encountering her again when he made it to Beacon, he saw in his mind the bright smile she had when she offered the young orphan words of encouragement and how it would've reappeared once again when she saw that those trivial throw-away lines would have actually amounted to something. Jaune's hands balled up into fists.

"Unfortunately, that's the fate you will likely meet if you continue down the path of becoming a huntsman. It's a nightmare we must content ourselves with every night despite the fact that, when we fall asleep, it will greet us harshly and without mercy. Jaune Arc, that's the reality of becoming a hero and it's one you must accept." the normally bombastic man stated solemnly, much to the confusion of the Arc.

"Well, I don't really have to worry about that anymore. I've trained and studied for years to attend Beacon but I guess it was all for nothing- they rejected me." he said emotionlessly, turning to stare out the window that faced a small market square where people went on with their lives despite having almost died a short while ago. That was life on the Frontier, he supposed, you might almost be eaten by a Grimm one day but you still need to make a living.

'How long was I out?' thought Jaune suddenly.

"My boy, how could we reject someone if they did what it truly means to be a huntsman? How could we reject someone if they put selflessly put their lives on the line for those who couldn't defend themselves?" Port asked rhetorically.

"What?" asked Jaune intelligently, "What?"

"Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Peter Port and I am a professor at the esteemed Beacon Academy and the chair of its Grimm Studies department. I am offering you, Jaune Arc, a spot at Beacon Academy. Will you join us in our fight against the ever-encroaching darkness that comes from both man and beast?" said the man rising from his chair and extending his hand towards Jaune. The pose reminded him of the shadowy figure he saw before he passed out.

"What?" Jaune repeated.

Port retracted hand quickly, opting to scratch the back of his head instead, "That is after I call Ozpin really quickly. Though I suppose that I'll have to do that after we get into Vale's airspace, Aballo's communications tower was damaged during the attack after all. I'll also have to endure Glynda skinning me alive..."

"My boy, are you alright?" said Port, looking at Beacon student with concern.

Jaune's eyes widened as he realized that he was crying, he frantically wiped at his eyes in order to save some sort of face but gave up and just accepted the moment and the emotions that came with it. He turned and offered the Beacon professor a watery smile, his red eyes bright with happiness and moisture.

"It's alright, I'm just so damn happy. I've wanted to be a huntsman ever since I could think. Thank you- thank you so much." he said, his voice cracking slightly.

"It is as I said, how can we as an institution deny someone a fulfilled their duty so splendidly? However, I would advise you to control you tears in the future, you wouldn't want to face the people you save with a face like that, would you?" the professor asked with a jaunty grin.

Jaune took a deep breath and dragged both of his hands down his face before offering Port a weak smile.

"That's the spirit." said the huntsman, offering the young man a thumbs up.

"So what's the plan?" asked Jaune awkwardly, wiggling his feet beneath the white covers.

"It's been two days since the Grimm attack so you're body should've healed by now considering the fact that you've recently unlocked your aura." said Port thoughtfully, sitting back down on the chair, taking special care not to damage the furniture.

"Two days..." muttered Jaune in disbelief before shaking his head rapidly and looking to the professor, "What does me unlocking my aura have to do with anything?"

"Times of great stress are when your soul reacts the most strongly to outside threats and the fact that your aura was unlocked in such a traumatic environment means that it would be overactive in its efforts to heal and strengthen your body. Normally two broken legs and your arm being ripped out of its socket-" Jaune's face turned green at that "-would take some time to heal but the circumstances in which your aura was unlocked made it work unnaturally fast."

"That makes sense... I think." said the Arc doubtfully, not sure if what Port said was true or not.

"The soul works in mysterious ways, my boy, and, truth be told, I'm not much of an expert on aura. That's more Ozpin's field of study." admitted Port freely before moving on, "As for the plan? I'll be leaving for Vale by the end of the day so that gives you quite some time to get your affairs in order and say your goodbyes."

"I shouldn't take too long, I don't really have any goodbyes to give out." said Jaune while awkwardly rubbing the back of his head stiffly with his previously injured arm.

Port looked sad for a moment before he spoke up, "My boy, by going to Beacon, you will most likely be leaving this town behind you for a long time as you focus on your studies and working together with your team. It would be a shame if you attended such a fine institution weighed down by any past regrets. Go and take as much time as you need to ensure that any remaining guilt or sorrow is laid to rest. I'll be doing a little bit of shopping myself but you'll be able to find me at the airpad whenever you're ready to depart."

With that, Port left the room, leaving behind a pensive Jaune and a chair that would be scarred for life.

Jaune ignored the looks he received as he stood in line at Aballo's bank, he almost wished that he could go back to the days where barely anyone cared that he existed as the looks of awe he received now that he was the town's hero felt disingenuous. On the other hand, it was unfair of him to resent people for treating him differently for saving their lives. He mentally shrugged, emotions were hard.

"Next!" called out the bank teller.

Jaune briefly stared in awe at the man's finely styled handlebar moustache before shaking his head clear of those thoughts and walking forward. Thankfully the man either didn't recognize him or was just so professional that he just made the effort to seem like he didn't dive a damn who Jaune was.

"Name?" asked the man (Lorry going by his name tag) in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

The teenager looked around for a moment before leaning forward and saying quietly: "Jaune Arc."

"Let me see some ID, young man." said Lorry, gesturing to the hole in the glass window.

Jaune dutifully slid his scroll into the hole.

"Right, your PIN number?" said the teller, sliding the ID back across the hole in the glass divider.

"1412."

"Right, right. How can I help you, Mr. Arc?" asked the man while idly typing on his computer, probably pulling up the Beacon student's bank account.

"Uh, I'd like to make a withdrawal. I'll be moving to Vale to go to school and I won't be able to access this bank anymore." said Jaune, tapping the counter impatiently, growing tired of the feeling of a crowd of people staring at him.

Lorry turned towards the computer monitor and his eyes widened comically, "How much were you planning on withdrawing, young man?"

"All of it."

"All of it?"

"All of it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. Why are you asking?"

"It's better if I just tell you." he beckoned Jaune to lean forward before whispering something in his ear.

"WHAT?!" Jaune shouted retracting his head quickly from the glass divider before leaning forward once more and repeating quietly: "What?"

"It's as I said, young man, that's the total amount in your account, I thought I'd let you know before you attempt to withdraw that much."

"But-but-but how'd I even get hat much? I've been saving up for a while now but I don't remember ever working enough for that type of money." said Jaune nervously.

The teller turned to the monitor once more, "It appears that the town's council recently transferred a sizeable amount of money to your account yesterday, probably for your exploits in the Grimm attack."

"Ah, right. That."

"Yes, that."

Jaune rubbed his forehead, "Jeez, they couldn't have sent me an invoice? I almost got a heart attack."

Lorry shrugged, "I just work the desk, young man, I don't make the rules. Do you still intend to withdraw 'all of it'?"

"Yeah, that's the plan."

The bank teller sighed before holding up a hand, "This will take a few moments, Mr. Arc."

Jaune felt bad for being an inconvenience for the bank teller and the people in line, he expected his trip to the bank to be a quick in-and-out process but it was turning out to be a drag for himself and everyone around him. He turned to apologize to the people doing business at the bank but he was greeted by a couple of patient smiles and a whole bunch of people minding their own business.

'The perks of being a hero, I guess.' thought Jaune, still feeling guilty for taking up everyone's time. He drummed his fingers along the counter as he felt perspiration building on his forehead. It felt like he was being held under a magnifying glass. The Arc distracted himself by imagining what form the cash would come in: would it come in a canvas bag with the lien symbol on the side or would it come in a briefcase like in a crime movie?

Unfortunately those myths came from when the Kingdoms of Remnant still used either gold coins or plastic currency; since the Vytal Pact, the Kingdoms worked in unison to create a currency that could be used across a common market. This resulted in the Lien, a plastic currency that could easily be used digitally to fit a new modern society. While the move was generally celebrated, it did somewhat harm smaller towns such as Aballo who had to build new digital infrastructure to support the new currency.

Needless to say, Jaune was slightly disappointed when Lorry emerged from the bowels of the bank with a vacuum-sealed bag containing the plastic currency. The older man took a seat behind the counter before sliding the container across the glass divider with a patient, professional smile.

"Will that be all today, Mr. Arc?" he asked pleasantly, as if he hadn't acted like that task was a huge chore just a couple of minutes prior.

"Uh, no that's it. Thanks for all the help and have a nice day." Jaune replied politely.

"You too, young man. And on behalf of all the citizens of Aballo, allow me to say: Slay some Grimm for us, would you?" Lorry said, offering an encouraging grin.

Jaune stood their frozen for a couple seconds before a smile slowly bloomed on his face, "Thanks!"

Though he felt less heroic for think so, he had to admit that being paid and being recognized for his deeds felt good.

For once, Jaune was thankful for not having that many things in his possession as he got to packing all his clothes and books in a duffel bag and backpack. He always felt sort of bad for himself whenever he remarked upon his spartan abode but he was glad that he wouldn't have to lug any decorations or picture frames all the way to Vale. His apartment was very small and was located on the outskirts of Aballo which made it very cheap albeit very dangerous in the event of a Grimm attack. Thankfully though, his dingy apartment managed to get through the latest invasion unscathed as it wasn't located along the main avenues or near the main gate.

The apartment was a part of the public housing allotted to victims of Grimm attacks in the Aballo area; Jaune supposed that, since his parents died on a search and destroy mission, he could be counted as a victim of a Grimm attack. It was given to him as soon as he was old enough to work and leave the orphanage, and was cheaper than other properties in town even if Jaune was just a tiny bit upset when he learned that he would have to take on a job as young as fourteen.

The apartment wasn't much in terms of size but it did come with furniture and silverware and everything a teenager needed to survive on his own. What Jaune appreciated most about it was that it gave him a sense of freedom and privacy he hadn't felt within the confining walls of Aballo's orphanage. It gave him a safe space where he was able to pursue his doomed dream of becoming a huntsman without being mocked by his peers.

As he shoved his Pumpkin Pete hoodie into the last inch of space available in his duffel bag he took a moment to take in the now empty environment of what had been his home for quite some time. The sheets and covers were all cleaned and neatly folded, all the furniture was put in their respective places, the floor was scrubbed clean and it looked like no body had ever lived there save for some scratches on the wooden floor.

He sighed and slung his bags over his shoulder before turning off the lights and shutting the door to his home behind him. It would never be his home ever again.

Some found it impractical to house a graveyard within the walls of a Frontier town but to the guardsmen of Aballo it only put into perspective what exactly they were defending whenever they marched along the walls or patrolled the outer defenses. They were defending the hopes and dreams of their ancestors, they were defending the home of Vale's last king, they were defending the hopes and dreams of any of their neighbors who had passed on. Aballo was more than its cobbled roads and houses with tiled roofs, it was the embodiment of those bold enough to live where Vale's influence was limited.

Still, seeing all the fresh graves being dug was depressing to Jaune; those were people who he grew up around, those were people he failed to save...

A cool breeze of mountain air distracted him from those thoughts as he shivered and retreated deeper into his hoodie and jacket combo. Though it looked like the people preparing for the oncoming funerals looked like they recognized him, they let him be, remembering where they were at the moment. Jaune silently sent his thanks towards them as he continued down the winding lanes of Aballo's only cemetery. There was someone he hadn't talked to in a long time and, when he considered Port's words, he realized it would leave a bad taste in his mouth if he went to Beacon without saying his goodbyes to the man.

He stopped in his tracks in front one of the cemetery's headstones. Juniper and Albert Arc, May They Protect Us Even In Death, it read. It was a nice gesture from the town, they had died protecting it from the Grimm, after all.

'Though maybe they should be resting instead of being on the job for eternity...' thought Jaune.

The last Arc wondered if he should say anything. They were his parents. Yet... he couldn't find any words. And he couldn't find it within himself to feel sad at the notion that he had nothing to say to the people that birthed him.

'Maybe I should feel guilty.' he thought numbly before shaking his head. It's not like they raised him. If they came back to the life at that moment they would probably just end up being strangers...

Jaune left the gravestone feeling slightly conflicted, huddling within his clothes as well as his thoughts.

'I don't know what to feel.'

Jaune moved on from the piece of stone that made him feel sch conflicted emotions, deciding to bury them deep within his soul where hopefully, they would never be brought up again. It was for the best, it's not like could receive and sort of resolution when it came to his dead parents.

Without realiing it Jaune found himself arriving at his destination, Mr. Loden's headstone stood near the end of the lane, accompanied by a pair of wilting mountain flower bouquets. It was a nice gesture, and Jaune thought that maybe he should've brought some flowers as well but, he was short on time and the florist was on the other side of Aballo. He pushed awy the guilt and instead decided to get on with his business.

"Hey, Mr. Loden..." Jaune began awkwardly while sliding his bags off his body and onto the ground.

"Man, I don't really know what to say. I guess I came to say that I either want to thank you or say that I'll prove you wrong. It's kind of crappy of me but I resented you for the longest time." he said with a hollow chuckle, "Ever since I had that little spat with Doug after that class one day the words of encouragement that you offered me lost their value. I know it's dumb but, ever since then I just resented you for lying to me when I was in such a vulnerable state. I don't even really know what I'm saying right now..."

"I still don't know if you meant what you said, you know? I guess Doug had more of an effect on me than I thought..." Jaune admitted with a sigh, "But your words still drove me to pursue my little pipe dream even when everyone else gave up on me or just brushed me off. Every time I thought about giving up on a work out session or of goofing off instead of studying, I would just remember what you and Doug said to me that day, curse your names and then go back to what I was doing. I guess even fool's gold is worth something."

He felt a little bit silly talking like that as he wasn't usually that introspective or poetic. Though, he did have to admit that it felt good to air out his feelings like that.

"So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you weren't lying then thank you for encouraging me when no one else was. But if you lied to me, well I'll just prove you wrong. Either way, I'm becoming a huntsman. And I guess that I kind of owe it to you even if I don't know if you meant what you said or not." Jaune took one look at the sun's position before sighing deeply in relief and picking up his bags, "I'll see you later."

Jaune found himself feeling somewhat melancholic as he walked up the cobbled streets of Aballo towards the town's airpad. While he could safely say that he felt a certain amount of disassociation towards the the citizens of the town who were suddenly glad to see him or were his new-old friends, the wind-chafed stone buildings would always be considered his home. A couple of days ago he would have freely admitted that he'd rather be anywhere than the confining walls of Oran's hometown but, now that he was leaving, he realized the he would miss the town more than he previously thought.

'Of course, there are a bunch of parts I won't miss at all...' thought Jaune with a grimace as the sound of a familiar voice calling out to him reached his ears.

"Hey Jauney-Boy, wait up!" the voice called out from a side-street he had just passed.

Jaune groaned as he realized that there was only one person who would still call him that stupid name, even if they were both seventeen. He stopped in his tracks, ignoring the curious eyes around him as he turned around to face his accoster just as he heard their pounding footsteps come to a halt behind him. The Arc turned around and found his fears and suspicions to be correct: Doug Hemlock was doubled over before him, gasping for breath after the run uphill. His black hair was a messy as ever yet Jaune could spot one major change in his childhood bully's appearance: one of his grey dog ears was gone, replaced by a bandaged stump.

Jaune couldn't help but wince in sympathy and briefly felt a small amount of guilt as he realized that he hadn't moved quick enough to save all the victims of the Grimm and allow them to escape unscathed.

"Hey Doug, it's-it's been a while..." said Jaune, mentally berating himself for stumbling over his words.

And it truly had been a while: they hadn't been in the same classes since middle school and Doug had, for the most part, matured and mellowed out so they had generally drifted apart once the bully decided that bullying the Arc wasn't worth his time.

"Yeah it has..." began Doug awkwardly, shoving his hands in pockets, "I used to always make fun of you for wanting to be a huntsman but it looks like you've proven me wrong, huh?" asked Doug rhetorically, idly kicking a small pebble.

"Um, I guess..." agreed Jaune succinctly, not quite sure how to respond to that, "I mean I still have to pass the exams and everything... How'd you even know about that?"

"Please, it's the talk of the town, you know how everyone gets when a huntsman visits on a job." said the dog faunus with a scoff.

While most small towns were gossipy simply because everyone knew each other, Aballo really got into a frenzy whenever one of the fabled protectors of legend were brought into play.

"Damn it! Don't distract me! I had a whole speech planned out and everything."

'I don't know how to feel about that.' thought a bemused Jaune as he waited silently for his former classmate to collect himself.

"Fuck it, I'll just wing it. You're pretty lucky, you know that? I mean, you're not at the same time but you definitely are. Damn it..." Doug seemed frustrated with the fact that he couldn't verbalize his feelings, something Jaune could empathize with, "Everybody wanted to be a huntsman when were little kids, we were all raised on that King Oran bullshit. But every year, more and more of us would slip through the cracks like 'Oh my parents want me to take over the business', or 'Oh, you know what? I don't think I'm really strong enough, did you see those people at the Vytal Festival?' or my-their dreams were just flat out crushed when they found out they would be taught some bullshit extra credit class instead of a proper huntsman course."

He paused for a breath and Jaune realized that he still dind't know what the hell the guy was talking about.

"But not you... out of all of us, you probably should've been the first one to break and drop out, but you just kept on going... So maybe you're not lucky at all... Or maybe just a bit. I dunno. All I know is that, when the time came and any one of us could've shown that we were worthy of achieving our dreams, we ran like cowards and you were the only one to do something even if you were lucky as shit when that sword popped out of the stone." Doug remarked bitterly, a shameful look appearing on his face as he looked down at the ground.

"So... thanks, I guess..." that was the first time Doug had ever said anything remotely nice to Jaune he didn't know how to feel about that, "And don't waste that sword, you hear? Keep on proving me wrong!"

Jaune's brief feeling of tentative happiness were shattered as he felt a hot surge of anger course throughout his body.

'Fuck you! I don't have to prove shit to you!' Jaune would have shouted with both of his middle fingers raised in a daring salute had he been brave enough...

Instead, he let sleeping dogs lie. Jaune grit his teeth and balled up his hands into fists before spinning around and stomping up the hill towards the air pad, grumbling up a storm under his breath all throughout his small journey.

'Really, who the hell does he think he is?' thought Jaune, groaning in frustration as he walked towards Port's rotund burgundy form by the lone Bullhead at Aballo's airpad.

Jaune took a deep breath and a second to reorganize his thoughts before continuing to his destination, ignoring the lingering embers of anger from his previous encounter.

"Sorry!" he called out to the Beacon professor who was talking to the Bullhead's pilot, "I didn't really expect to take this long..."

Port nodded to the pilot before turning to Jaune, "It's quite alright, my boy! I was the one who encouraged you to tie up any loose ends, ater all. Besides, I just got done shopping so it's not like I can complain, now can I? Cast the first stone and all that."

"What'd you buy?" asked Jaune curiously.

Port picked up a bag, one of those fancy ones from boutiques that Jaune saw boyfriends get dragged to by their partners on a day out. The professor pulled out a snowglobe featuring Crocea Mors jutting proudly out of the stone in Aballo's main square and a nice vintage with a proud smile concealed by his moustache. Jaune thought that it made sense that someone with the name Port would be interested in wine but he assumed that he would've bought something more... huntsman-y. Yeah. Huntsman-y.

"Are you ready to leave, Mr. Arc?" asked Port, carefully placing the items back in the bag and concealing them with a glittery piece of tissue paper.

Jaune turned around to take one last look at his home and took a deep breath full of the sweet mountain air.

He turned to Port and nodded.

.

.

.

"Good, because I was going to leave anyway."

A/N: So boom, that's Aballo wrapped up. I hope Jaune's musing on his relationship with his parents makes sense to everyone. It makes sense to me as someone who has lost a parent at a young age.

Anyways, I hope everyone enjoyed it. Thanks for all the support! Let me know if there's any grammatical errors, there shouldn't be but I was very tired when I read over the chapter again.