One Apology:

She heard the telltale creak, the opening of a door that had but two keys. One set was tucked up on the shelf next to that very same door, the second in the pocket of the man who had walked through the door. A smile played upon her face, and she twisted the golden band on her finger, a small tick she had developed whenever he was gone.

"Jaune?" She called.

"The one and only!" A quick snap as the door shut behind him. She made her way to the sink and washed off her hands, the meal behind her forgotten. She didn't cook often — frankly he was much at it than she was, but whenever he returned from missions she did her best to make the effort. She was hardly a model house wife — killing monsters made for a unique lifestyle, but every once in a while she liked playing the role. He would probably purse his lips because she had put too much salt in the water whilst boiling it. He always ate the whole meal though. He wouldn't say a word of the mistakes she had made.

"How was Mystral?" She asked as she made her way to the front of their small apartment. She had money, plenty of it left over from her years of victories at tournaments and the advertisements she had done at that time. They had bought a large mansion initially, something spacious and roomy to accommodate friends, but it was foreign to him. Her as well. After spending four years in a dorm room with a Nora made for a sort of love for tight spaces. Her bed had been the only space which had been truly hers back then, and the vast empty spaces of the old house had seemed strange and foreign. Particularly when he went away, she found herself feeling lonesome. Every so often Yang or Ruby would come and visit, but the stays became less frequent over the years. So they had abandoned the idea, and come here. A small apartment. A kitchenette, a spare bedroom, a small living space with a tv, and their bedroom. It was all they needed. Perhaps it wasn't a home, but it was what they had. It was what they found comfortable.

"Pleasant! It's so warm down there." He came around the corner and caught her, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around, light as a feather. Her smile grew, she hugged him more tightly, he put her down.

"Is it ever really pleasant fighting Griffons?"

"Eh, they're not so bad. Kill the alpha. Show 'em who's boss. Can't help but smile as the sun shines, you know?" She laughed a little, letting it bubble out of her chest.

"I missed you." She put a hand on his cheek, the cool metal on her finger pressed against his warm skin. She leaned in and kissed him, his lips soft, the kiss tender and gentle.

"I missed you too." They stayed locked together, resting their foreheads together for a moment. A quick breath, the return to normalcy after the leave. A moment later his stomach growled. "Do I smell your famous pasta?"

"You do. I even used salt to boil the water."

"Pulling out the bells and whistles aren't you? … Nothing broke while I was gone did it?"

"Just my heart." She turned, pulled him with her. She felt light on her feet, her stomach fluttered. All these years later, he still did that to her. Each touch, each kiss, each moment in his arms made her heart skip a beat. Her stomach would turn over and over, especially now, knowing the surprise she had waiting for him.

"However shall you forgive me?" He broke away to grab a few plates. They were crystal — a wedding gift from Weiss, and one of the few items of luxury they had kept around.

"I have a few ideas." She let herself get sly for a moment, but such talk could wait. Sauce on the pasta, plates in hand, they made their way to the couch and sat. She tucked her knees under her, he grabbed the remote. "The X-ray and Vav movie came out while you were gone."

"And you wait till now to tell me?!" He feigned outrage. He snatched up the remote and flicked it on, looking for the rentals. It was only available to buy. He moped.

"Oh for- how much did you just earn on the mission Jaune? We can afford a rental." He looked somewhat like a puppy dog in his excitement. She giggled again and kissed him on the cheek as he flicked the movie on. They settled in and ate.

In all honesty, she thought that she had done a proper job with the dinner. There were no crunchy, crispy bits tonight. All was going well until she bit down on something and bitterness flooded her mouth. She stuck her tongue out, looking at the leaf on her tongue.

"Forgot to take the bay leaves out?" He asked, his own face scrunched up.

"I'm sorr-" He cut her off with a kiss. It was bitter in taste and sweet in sentiment.

"I don't care."

She snatched his hand. He squeezed hers.

"Come on," She stood, pulling him with her.

"We're halfway through the movie." He protested, resisting a bit. Faster than his eye could follow, she used the resistance to pull herself into him, straddling his thigh and pulling his plate away, setting it beside him.

Eyes lidded, she leaned in, slowly, letting her breath trail up his neck. She bit his ear, ghosted her lips along his jaw, found the sweet release of his lips and leaned in, slow at first, waiting for him. His lips started to move against hers, and she crashed against him. Her hands on his face, she pulled him into her, the ferocity of the kiss building until they pulled away gasping. She nudged his nose with hers, sliding backwards, off the couch, pulling him with her.

This time he came fast, faster than she had thought he would, arms wrapping around her, pulling her in by the small of the back. They met once more, fire building inside her as they crashed into the wall. His hands slid up her sides, slipping against the skin under her shirt. The touch was electric, her heart hammered in her chest. She pushed him towards the room, crashing from wall to wall.

He threw the door open, and the smell of roses filled her. He broke away for a moment, long enough to see the bed littered in flower petals. "Pyrrha…"

She grasped his belt leading him inside, not bothering to close the door behind him. She didn't know if he pushed her or if she fell, only aware of him, pressing against her as she desperately tugged away the strip of leather. Kisses burned hot on her neck, his hands warm on her sides. They tore away at each other until there was nothing but their skin, pressing against one another. She could feel him, growing against her, the fire inside her burning. He bit her collar bone and she gasped involuntarily. "Please," was all she could manage before the throws of passion consumed them.

His head pounded. It wasn't unfamiliar, it wasn't familiar. It was just painful. He groaned as he stood from the arm chair. A wave of nausea washed over him, the buzz of unintelligible voices droned at him from the television, the high pitched whine of electricity drilled into his head, encouraging the growing headache.

Not leaving the bar had been a good choice.

But he wasn't alone.

"Little hair of the dog kid?" Qrow Branwen was already sitting at a stool, his clothes as dirty as Jaune's. It seemed he wasn't the only one who wasn't sleeping.

Two glasses of amber were sitting in front of him, and he slid one to the stool next to him. Jaune took the queue and sat, gratefully sipping. The fiery brandy burned his throat, but he forced it all down in a single go. "Look at you go," Qrow's voice was gravelly. Nice and low, unlike that fucking television. Instead of answering, Jaune reached behind the unmanned bar and drew out one of the bottles. Tequila. Great.

He filled his cup to the brim. Qrow downed his own, and slid it over. Jaune obliged by filling it up. The older man raised his glass, and Jaune tapped it, the alcohol from their drinks sloshing out of the cups and splashing over the bar.

"To the breakfast of champions." Jaune murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Something I can cheers to. No such thing as a hangover if you stay drunk."

About halfway through the glass, the headache eased.

"Funeral starts in a few hours, you probably oughta clean yourself up at some point." Qrow noted with a sideways glance.

"Yeah, I will."

"It gets easier, by the way. Not that it helps now." Jaune sneered and took a big sip, ignoring the huntsman. Blue eyes, strangely blank. Pale arms, cold, covered in warm water.

"I'm sure it does."

"You don't sound convinc-"

"Shut the fuck up." Jaune snapped. "How the fuck would you even-" He cut himself off.

They were silent for a moment. Jaune finished his glass, reached for the bottle. Qrow already had it. He poured some of the golden drink into Jaune's glass, filling it half empty.

"I ever tell you about a girl I used to know?"

Jaune didn't bother to answer. The old fool could drone on all he liked. Just like the voices on the television, he could block it out.

"Beautiful woman… Hell of a huntress. Hell of a mother."

"Just say what you have to say and fill my glass again." Jaune mocked, his lip curling despite his best efforts.

"She was a huntress… And human. We all go at some point."

"Can't come early enough."

Qrow didn't say anything for a while. Jaune savoured the silence.

"I serve a unique roll in the huntsman community, you know that kid? Good ol Oz sends me off to wherever people have given their last check in, when they miss their follow up. You know what that normally means, don't you? You know what happens to most of us. Occupational hazard I guess.

"Means I get to pick up the pieces, more often than not. Odd days I get lucky. Honest mistakes, scroll got damaged, they track the Grimm outside the range of the CCT… But more often than not, it's because they died.

"Finding the bodies isn't so bad. They look… Fake almost. Like a painting." She stared at nothing, she saw nothing. His hand trembling, he closed her eyes, those brilliant eyes that used to shine with so much life…

"But this time it was different. It's always different when you know them. And she wasn't dead yet.

"They had ripped her throat out… But she wasn't dying. Not yet. Wasn't the Grimm… She could handle that. But there was a hold in her back, and a gash across her throat. A few minutes earlier, maybe I could have done something…"

The water was warm, the blood not dried into darkness.

"But I wasn't. I was too late. So I watched her, my best friend, the brightest woman I'd ever met… I watched her try to gasp out a few words. She tried to say… something. I'll never know what. How long had she been there like that? How long had she been waiting for me… Hoping someone would come save her… Not a day goes by I don't think about Summer."

Jaune frowned he knew that name.

"Not a day goes by I don't see her face. The worst part? I can't even remember what she looked like any other time. All I remember is those few moments, as she died in my arms. Her head in my lap, words she couldn't say on her lips…"

Jaune took a long sip. It's fiery tongue licked at his throat as it slid down.

"That supposed to make me feel better?" Jaune couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice.

"I tortured myself for years. I just kept thinking if I had been a bit faster, if I had gotten there sooner… but you want to know the truth?" Qrow poured another round. "There wasn't shit I could've done to stop it. Things… happen. And there's not a damn thing you can do to stop it. Might take a while, but eventually it sinks in."

Qrow stood, wobbling slightly. "Strong stuff." He murmured. He slapped Jaune on the back. "I gotta go make sure the girls are up. Make sure that they're getting cleaned up for the funeral… You should take a shower."

And he walked a crooked path out of the bar.

Jaune poured another glass.

He knew this wasn't how it should feel.

He reached up, tucked a strand of scarlet hair behind her ear. The movement was a memory, one of a different night. The ring on his finger looked silver in the dim light cast by the moon, high above outside, leaking its ghostly light through the windows. A petal sat on her face, and he moved it away.

She was asleep now, had been for some time.

The soft whispers, the sweet nothings, they came so easily now, but they always left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could say them almost automatically, make her smile.

Lies.

That's what they were.

But he did love her, didn't he? They had spent so long together. He had said the words so many times. He thought he believed them.

Even now though, as he flattened her hair behind her ear, as he traced the delicate curve of her cheekbone, as he lay next to her, it was not her face he was thinking of. Hours ago, as he lost himself in her embrace, it wasn't her toned body he imagined himself pressing against. It wasn't her he saw in his mind's eye as he closed his eyes and let out heavy breaths.

It was the ghost of someone else he saw. A perfect face, with one scar.

He wondered if she knew. He wondered if either of them knew.

He didn't know when he had realized. Perhaps part of him had always known that something was different. That something wasn't right. That some part of him felt like it was missing.

But she loved him. He knew she did. He could see it in every look she gave him, in the pasta she tried to make, the way she held him when the plights of the job took him…

He saw it in everything she did for him, and found no solace in it.

Sighing, he rolled over. He wouldn't sleep tonight.

It wasn't the first time.

She watched the pasta in front of her, cold now, it's twin plate on the other side of the table.

Pyrrha checked her scroll again.

Nothing.

Nothing in hours.

He should have been home by now.

The pit in her stomach was growing, tearing her apart piece by piece, each thought another knife, but she couldn't let herself think it.

What if he's… gone.

It ripped into her mind, blowing through the veneer of peace she had worked up. The thought terrified her to the very core of her being, tore her heart out. Adrenaline crashed through her, and she breathed deep.

Just another mission. In Atlas, one amongst a dozen others. He was one of the strongest huntsmen in the world, she had trained him herself. He was talented, he was fast, no Grimm would have touched him.

How many huntsmen have died before him though?

It felt like there was a demon inside her, it's icy claws digging through her organs.

No, he couldn't be-

A creak.

She didn't remember standing. She just remembered crashing into him, clutching him so close. "You're okay," She gasped, hanging onto him, clutching him tightly. "I was so scared…"

He didn't say anything.

And he stank of alcohol.

"Jaune?" She looked up at him, not taking her hands off him. She couldn't let go of him, not now, not when she was so worried he would be-

He took her hands, softly, gently, but forcefully removed them.

"I… I need to tell you something Pyrrha.

A/n

Nope, Weiss didn't cheat.

Yes this story is confusing. These sorts of things do that. It's fragmented, it's fractured. It doesn't make sense. I switched this chapter with its predecessor because otherwise you would have known exactly what was happening, but I've sort of said it in each of the chapters. The hints are there, some of you saw it.

Next chapter is the second to last one.

I don't want to fucking write this anymore.

I don't even know if you want to read it.

Things are going to jump around a lot next chapter. This Is How This Happened will be the clearest chapter. It's going to be a stream of consciousness taking place in what I guess is the present.

Things tend not to make sense until the end.

I wanted to get it all done in one week. That turned into weekly updates. Honestly, this is harsh to write, might take a while for me to get the next one out.

For those reading, thanks for sticking with. I'm still finding my sea legs in writing again. Somehow, stuff like this is easier for me to write.

Unjax