The winds howled, the night was black. The moon was dark, so was his heart.

He knew he should be wearing a coat, that he would surely freeze if he spent too much longer up here, on the tower, overlooking the mountains. They seemed so far away, fading behind layers of flakes of snow, too large to be real. But as one touched against his cheek, stung for a moment, and then melted into the tears streaming down his face, he knew they were there.

Everything looked so small, so far away.

Far below him, there were some lights. Mere pinpricks now. For all he knew he was trapped between two skies, falling, stars above, stars below.

His scroll chimed, and he growled at it. He hated coming to Atlas for missions. It was a place haunted with the past, one he wished to forget, but that he wouldn't, no matter how much he should.

But when he drew it out he knew the number. He had tried to erase it from his memories, but had never been able. Until the day he died, he would know it. He wondered how far away she was, the touch of a button and a lifetime ago. Were he to simply answer, he would know.

He did not trust himself to.

He had been forgiven once, he would not be forgiven again. Pyrrha had forgiven him, he thought. He had never offered himself the same courtesy.

And it rang and rang as he stared down at the grey icon.

Each tone gave way to an urge to answer, he wanted to, he wanted to let her know he was there for her.

He couldn't be.

Not anymore.

Setting it down on the table in front of him, he fiddled with the golden band, wrapped around his finger.

His scroll chimed once more. Not another call, just a message.

And on the display, were two words. Words which would burn into his head forever.

"Goodbye, Jaune,"

He should have answered. Why didn't he answer?

He wanted to shout at the sky, demand an answer.

He knew there was no reason for this.

"She's… gone." His voice was a hollow echo.

"Who is?" Pyrrha seemed happy as ever, perhaps a bit concerned.

"I… Weiss…" He murmured the name. It didn't feel real. None of it felt real.

"You… were with her?"

And he froze.

No, he hadn't been, he wasn't-

"You were with her… again." Her voice was as hollow as his had been.

But he…

"I… need to go." She said. "Don't… don't call me." He could feel her voice crack from across the seas.

And so it goes.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the railing taughtly.

He shut his eyes against the pain, but could not flush it out.

Arms would have shook, were they not sealed to the railing. The wind whipped around him, the sky pressed against him, black.

Inviting.

His feet were heavy. He didn't know why he was here. They had said goodbye a long time ago.

But… then why now?

She would have known. That he was there. Here, in Atlas.

So then… why?

When he knocked on the door, it creaked inwards, and his heart sank.

The halls were dark, vacant, devoid of anything but a snowflake which crept in behind him. Fluttered through the air. Landed on the ground.

Then it was gone, as if it never had been.

Slowly, he walked through the hall. He called her name, softly at first, but with no reply, it grew louder. She wasn't in the study, nor the living room, nor the kitchen.

His feet found the stairs as they loomed over him, narrow and pressing in on all sides. Each step sucked his heart into his throat, but he kept moving.

At the top of the stairs, he heard it first.

It washed over him, intense, as if a thousand knives were gouging him from the inside. He gripped the bar tighter. He growled. He squeezed his eyes tight against it. His knees buckles, and but his grip never loosened. He trembled there, like a man on a crucifix.

Drip. Drip.

Small splashes of water against the ground.

The door to her room was open, and he moved into it, something inside him screaming to get out. The same part that frantically tore at him when he was in danger.

But nothing here would hurt him.

The crystal door of the bathroom was ajar, the only light in the house within, scattering dim colours across the ground as he approached. It was quiet.

Just inside, in the small strip of floor he could see, lay a scroll, screen cracked.

It smelled of coffee and alcohol.

He shouldn't be scared. Nothing here would hurt him.

His mouth tasted of coffee and alcohol.

Drip. Drip.

He pushed it open, and his heart stopped.

For a moment, he was frozen in horror. His eyes wouldn't believe what was in front of him. What he saw. It couldn't be real. No…

In a tomb of porcelain she lay, the water around her a deep scarlet. Some of it had splashed onto the walls, and some was leaking over the side of the basin.

And he could see her, so clearly, but not as she had been, only as she was, two nights ago.

He thought about her laugh, the ones that he could eek out of her even when she was in the foulest of moods.

He thought of her smile, that was more perfect for her scar, not less.

He thought of her lips, the last time they had touched, trembling, scared, together and alone all at once.

He wished he could go back, and tell her he would never leave.

That they could be together.

Maybe they would be again.

Drip. Drip.

Half her hair was rosen, the other stark white. Her eyes were open, staring at some space on the wall. She was still. So still.

The spell broke and he rushed forward.

"Weiss?" The words were frantic, panicked.

He rushed to her side, pulled her face into his hands.

She was cold.

Impossibly cold.

"Weiss?" The name came in a quick gasp.

He couldn't breathe.

He turned her eyes towards him. "I'm here Weiss, I'm here…"

But there was no answer.

She looked at him, her eyes vacant. She saw nothing.

He pressed his fingers to her neck.

Felt nothing.

His scroll was out and he was calling an ambulance before he knew what was happening. He barked out the directions.

"Weiss?" It was hardly a whisper.

A streak of crimson trickled from her mouth. His fingers trembling, he brushed it away.

"I'm here," He croaked.

"I'm here."

He pulled her up, out of the porcelain casket, and he saw them.

Two long, deep grooves across her thighs. Her pale, icy skin covered in scarlet droplets as he pulled her out.

But she did not shiver.

"I'm here,"

He cradled her against him.

"... I'm here."

But she was not.

"I'm here, Weiss." He whispered.

There was no answer.

And in that moment, he felt something calm. Something peaceful.

He wondered if that's how she had felt, glass in hand, breathing deep. Gasping for breaths that didn't want to come.

And then everything… stilled.

He looked up. He was shaking from head to toe. But he felt at peace. One moment. And it would be over, the pain would be gone.

"I'm here, I'll be there soon." None could hear him.

The last breath was steady. He felt cold consume him. His arms relaxed.

He let go.

And tumbled towards the stars above.

Towards the stars below.

So it goes.

A/n:

I was going to make a chronological recap in this chapter.

I didn't think it would be suiting.

Sorry for this one. Figured I should finish what I started.

-Unjax