Chapter 8

April 13th, 1999

The airport air was stale. Gross, even. I had bitten my tongue at some point, and now I was pushing the injury against the back of my teeth. I could feel the ridges between them with the little sore bulge on the tip. It sucked. Well, everything sucked, actually.

My leg hurt.

I impatiently tapped my left foot against the floor, making little thuds as the heel of my boot made rhythmic contact with the dull white tile. I was uncomfortable. The hospital had given me what felt like the most uncomfortable wheelchair they could afford. As if they had looked at me and went 'oh, a little girl? Give her the bad one. You know the one I mean. Keep the good ones for people with sore throats.' So you could see how much they cared about my post-visit happiness.

My leg hurt.

The morning's breakfast had consisted of a sesame seed bagel from the Timmies that was on site at the airport, and we had been served by the most apologetically rude little barista, who didn't like that my sister didn't speak a word of french. In fact, she seemed more than willing to waste time on purpose just because she couldn't. My limited knowledge of real french allowed me to pick up a few things she said to her coworkers, namely the words 'stupid' and 'bitch'. Like, I understand it's early in the morning, but come on.

My leg hurt.

I had sworn back under my breath in German from my less-than-intimidating position in my wheelchair, which I was glad that the barista and my sister hadn't heard. It was pretty coarse for even me. She deserved it, though. I was as upset as I could be, given how unfathomably tired I was. Do you know how difficult it is to sleep comfortably when you are not allowed to roll over, sleep on your front, sit up by yourself, or do anything other than lie flat on your back and stare at the ceiling? Unreasonably, is how much. Every single movement I made was uncomfortable. And every single one made my leg hurt.

"Winter."

"No."

I whined.

"But it hur-ur-urts."

"I know, sweetie, but no. One per day, and you had your one when you woke up."

I whined again, this time a little harder. For emphasis. I was on a strict (and strictly enforced) set of drugs to keep my body in check after the surgery. After my accident, I had needed to go under the knife to fix my stupid, stupid leg. A small titanium plate had been installed, bolting the now two-piece femur back together. And all of it hurt. The stitches, the places where the screws were inside the bones, even just the weight of my leg hurt. Not being able to move it more than a couple of millimetres was a royal pain in… well, the leg, actually.

"But why not."

My sister sighed, rubbing my shoulder from behind me.

"Because that's the rules, Weiss. You heard the doctor, and you said you'd follow the rules he wrote."

"That was before my leg started to hurt on its own."

"It's been two weeks, Weiss. You'll have to get used to it."

Two anti-inflammatories, one painkiller. That was all I was given per day. The anti-inflammatories were actually very good, keeping my leg from ballooning in its cast from the trauma and causing further damage to me and my well being. The painkillers, however. At this point, I felt like I shouldn't have even bothered taking them. A smart person would have known that painkillers don't actually delete the pain, they just reduce it to a controllable level. I didn't know this. I was not smart. I thought that because I knew that the drug they gave was basically street-level heroin, and that heroin was the drug that knocked you out while keeping you conscious, that I wouldn't be in any pain.

But my leg hurt.

I found out later that a day without the meds was akin to having my leg broken and then fixed and then broken again every fucking second, every time my heart beat. How I managed to ride my bike home is a god damn miracle. I am made of stronger stuff them most eleven-year-old girls. Than most people, forget about what age they are.

"But I don't wanna." I complained. "I hurt."

She didn't say anything more, just giving me a soft smile and a reassuring rub of the shoulder. I lamented, feigning agony more than the stiff, throbbing pain that was my life right now.

"When's he gonna land."

"Soon, honey. Soon."

I looked up at the board between the pillars that hung above the baggage carousel. It had cycled again since I had looked last, and now it showed that flight three-five-seven had just landed. I perked up a little bit, sitting slightly straighter in my uncomfortable perch. I knew it would be about twenty or so minutes after landing to go through customs, so I still had a little while. From in front of us, the carousel started slowly turning with a flash of orange safety light. It's not that I was impatient or anything. I just wanted to see Jaune again.

"From now on, he's not allowed to leave without me."

"That seems like a little much, don't you think?"

"Nope." I pointed at my cast. "See what happens when he's not around? Just imagine what I might break next. Might be my arm. Or my neck. Or… my pretty face!"

Winter laughed and gave me a smooch on the top of my head. "You are so dramatic."

"I'm not dramatic!" I argued, trying not to wince from the sudden spike of pain in my leg. "I'm fully serious. Next time Jaune goes on vacation, I'm going with him. No questions, no arguments."

"Alright, alright," she lamented, coming around to kneel in front of me. "Don't move around so much, you're gonna make your leg worse, you silly goose. When you heal you can go with him. Until you're out of your cast, you will stay in that chair and that is final. Okay?"

I crossed my arms, frowning and looking away. Winter's hand gently brought my face back in line with hers. She held a stern smile.

"You understand, young lady?"

How dare she call me that! I feigned disgust at her choice of words for a moment, flipping my face away and catching her in the cheek with some of my hair. Perks of being a girl. Your hair is a flippancy weapon.

"Whatever." I said with a smile that came out, even though I was forcing it down. "But you're gonna help me get up when Jaune gets here so I can hug him properly."

She rolled her eyes at me.

"You are such a suck, Weiss. I love you so much. Please never change."

"Yes, mom."

She laughed and messed my hair up in her fingers while she stood up and resumed her position behind the chair.

"Alright, I'll move us closer to the exit so we can see him. Buckle up!"

My chair didn't even have a seatbelt. I lolled my head backward to look up at her upside down. I raised a hand and pointed forwards.

"Bring me to him."

She shunted me forward, rolling us towards the carousel and to the sliding glass door that led to the customs office. At least, that's what I assumed it was. Stupid french signage. As we stopped by the rope barricade, I rubbed my eye, yawning as I did. I was pretty tired. And the thought of skipping school today made me very confused. Eight-thirty in the morning sucked. Especially after two hours in the car to the Montreal airport.

Oh, and my leg hurt.

After about five minutes, a fair crowd of people started to come out of the customs area. Most of them were tired-looking business people in bland grey and black suits. Some were families, taking the red-eye flight to save a few bucks from vacations. But I wasn't looking for these people. I didn't care about the tourists. I was looking for one boy in particular.

"Oh, hey Weiss, There's Ines. I can't see if-"

"Jaune!" I almost cheered, bolting upright in my chair.

The crowd parted, revealing Jaune's mother Ines, wheeling two large suitcases behind her. And right next to her…

"Jaaaauuunnee!"

He perked his face up at my call, his hoodie pulled up over his head. He broke into a big smile, beginning to run over. I then watched his eyes glance downward at my leg. His smile fell quickly, and what appeared to be fear filled his eyes. His hands found and tightened down on his backpack straps as he hurried over. His mother followed quickly. Took me a while to notice that his older sister, Meyln was with them as well. I didn't like her anyways. And today she was in her usual 'hurry up, let's go' mood. The more time I could take up, the better.

"Hey, buddy." I said, giving him a smug smile.

"Holy shit," he said, swearing uncharacteristically. "What the hell happened to you?"

I could tell his mother wanted to chastise him for using bad language, but to be fair, I was in a wheelchair. Which is not how either of them had left me.

"I fell off my bike."

"She was hit by a car." Winter interjected.

"And then I fell off my bike."

Jaune gasped, almost dropping his bag. "But are you okay?!" There was a lot of panic in his voice.

I shrugged. "Eh, I'll be fine. Be up and running around again in no time!"

"Nine months before you're on your feet again," my sister interjected again. "Even then. No running."

"Does it hurt?"

Like fucking crazy. "Nah, it's not so bad. Doctor said I won't even have a limp when this is all said and done. Said that kid bones are all springy and stuff."

"Are you okay?"

His concern was cute. I smiled up at him.

"Much better now, Jaune."

I extended my arms at him.

"Help me up."

"Weiss, don't push yourself," Winter scolded, not stepping in to stop me I noticed. "I'm not taking you back to the hospital."

"Shush. Jaune?"

He took the hint with a curt laugh, reaching down and grabbing me under the armpits. Together, we heaved me forward, up and out of the wheelchair with Winter providing support from behind. With a great, and I mean great amount of effort, we pulled me into a standing position. With all my weight on my left foot, I was able to stand up. But only for a few moments. The weight of the cast wrapped around my leg immediately started to pull my leg apart again. I fought through it, pulling Jaune against me. The permanent bend in my knee from the cast made it so that I was shorter then him.

"Welcome home, Jaune."

"I don't really care about that," he said softly into my hair, his hug considerably firmer and tighter then it normally was. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine, don't worry about it." I was let down again into the chair. "You're home, that's all that's good today."

"You're still alive, I think that's more important, Weiss." he said, doing my thing and messing up my hair with his hands. It wasn't very often that he spoke with such purpose in his voice. I've only heard it a couple of times, this pointed and direct way of speaking he used. "I missed you."

Hey, now.

"I missed you too. But all's well that ends well."

"Your leg is broken!" he said, clearly ignoring me.

"Like I said," I said, defensively. "I fell off my bike."

Ines scooted around her son and knelt down in front of me. She doted on me for a few moments, as if I was her own daughter. Well, as if I was already. Still had a few years before she treated me like I actually was. She quickly fixed my hair, neatening the messy mop Jaune had just created. With her delicate, french fingers she sorted my mess so it all flowed in the same direction over my left shoulder. She spent a minute fussing over my cast, making sure my leg was properly suspended in its sling.

"You need to be more careful, chéri. You are always so clumsy."

I smiled sheepishly at her.

"Yeah, sorry." I tried to no avail. "It just kinda happened."

"Well..." she paused. "Try not to have it happen again. We will both be very sad."

She stood up again, rubbing my cheeks oh so motherly as she did. She looked weary for me. But then she always did. Ines treated me like one of her own, and you know what? That was a good thing. Especially now.

"I know, it won't happen again." I said, scratching my head. "I'll work on getting out of the cast faster."

"Ugh, can we go?" Jaune's sister almost commanded. "I'm tired, and I want to go to bed."

Ines sighed. I could see the vein on her forehead pulse again "Juste une seconde. Jaune? Are you good if we go?"

"Yes, mum. I'll see you at home." he said, hugging his mother goodbye. It was cute as heck to watch his short little arms try and wrap around her.

After a few moments, he let go of his mother and stepped back over to where we were. His sister gave an angry flick of her hair and a loud, pointed tsk at her little brother and I. I was tempted to flick my hair back at her, but that would have been in bad taste.

Just kidding, I totally did.

/…/

We were a little stuck in traffic. But you know what? It was pretty good to be stuck for once. I had the whole back seat to myself to stretch my leg out on, and I was using the pillow Jaune had brought with him to prop up the cast, under my knee. I was co-omfy.

"What do you two losers want for breakfast?" Winter asked from the front.

"You know what I miss?" Jaune said, in an uncharacteristic quick and animated response. "Pancakes. They don't have pancakes in Paris. Or anywhere in France, for that matter."

"I could go for pancakes. Weiss?"

I nodded, pouting my lips up at them. "Is there a Cora's nearby?"

"Weiss, it's called Chez Cora here. The stupid french added extra words to the name."

"Hey!" Jaune said, mocking offense. "We did nothing of the sort!"

"Not you," Winter corrected, batting his face away gently with her fingers. "The gross french."

"Oh. So like, my sister then. She's pretty gross. And also french."

"Sister, dearest," I said, turning my attention back the back of Winter's head. "Are you implying that all people from the great province of Quebec are gross? Because that's generalizing, and demeaning."

"You clearly haven't met any of my classmates at university, have you?"

"But still, what if one of the other drivers around you heard you talking like that? Aren't you afraid they might pull you out of the car and beat you up?"

"I could take 'em. Besides, it's not generalizing. Have you taken a look out the window? This city is pretty gross. Also, you remember the barista from this morning?"

I tried not to fidget. "I'm sure there are some nice french people in this city."

"Yeah, there are." she said, looking at me through the rear view mirror. "He's in the passenger seat of this car."

"Oh, funny, Winter. You're so polite."

She laughed. And it made me laugh too. Jaune just crossed his arms in protest.

"So, we agree on Cora's?" She asked, flicking on the turn signal so we could leave the packed highway.

"I think so," I agreed. "I'm feeling like some high cholesterol this morning to go with my truancy."

"Oh yeah, you guys are skipping school too, right?" Jaune asked, uncrossing his arms. "You did that to come see me?"

"Uh, yeah, obviously." I gave my head a dramatic shake. "Besides. I'm not supposed to be back on my feet yet, so I thought that a two-hour car ride then half an hour in a stale airport was exactly how I wanted to spend today."

"Were we supposed to be doing anything important in class today?"

I shrugged. "How should I know, I've been away for the same amount of time as you." I pointed to my leg again. "Doctor's orders."

"When do you go back?"

"Friday, if I want." I rubbed my face. Early mornings still were not so fun, even if the circumstances were ideal. "And I think I want."

"Oh. That means I'll be by myself in class for two days."

"You seem… disappointed, Jaune." Winter chastised, giving him a soft punch on the arm. "You gonna miss her or something?"

He turned a very adorable shade of pink. "N-no more than usual, really."

"Uh huh, sure."

I wanted to lean over the back of the front seat and glare at him in my most menacing way. I was unable, however. Stupid leg. Ruining all my fun.

"Here we go, guys." Winter pointed out the windshield. The large crayon-looking sun sign hung against the front of the building, reflecting the real sun down at us. "Cholesterol, ho!"

With a jolt, we pulled into the lot and parked up against the curb. With a stutter, Winter shut the car off and made to get out. I, of course, was unable. My sister made haste around to my side of the car, pulling the door open.

"Jaune, c'mere." she said, gesturing over at him. "Help me extricate her."

With a quick flick, she grabbed my wheelchair from the rear floor and sprung it open right next to the door opening. She had to wiggle the frame a few times to get it to lock into place, as the frame was older and disobedient, we found.

"Okay, what do I do?" he asked, helpfully coming around behind her.

"Come her and grab this."

I didn't know what 'this' was gonna be, and if I had, I would have protested. Because very suddenly I was pulled backwards across the rear sear and out of the door. Not expecting this, I flinched, causing them both to have to suddenly re-position their hands on me to stop my dumb ass from falling out of the car and onto the pavement. The stupid garter-like belt under my clothes that held up my cast so it didn't slip downward was a popular grab handle Winter had started using to drag me in and out of wherever it was I was lying. So needless to say, I was not prepared for double the force on it.

"Ay!" I yelled, slipping through their grasps. "Watch where you're pullin'!"

Neither seemed very apologetic, as they shifted their grips to try and get me out of the car and into the chair. It took me a second, but I had suddenly noticed that Jaune had caught my fall by putting his hand in a slightly PG-13 place to support my upper body. I looked down at his hand, then twisted my face up towards his, a sly smile growing on it.

"Jaune, your hand." I mentioned, doing the eye thing to grab his attention. "Not a hand-hold"

His face went scarlet. Not angry-scarlet, not quite embarrassed-scarlet either. Somewhere in the middle.

"You moved!" he yelled, twisting his wrist so that it came up under my armpit instead, and more than gently hoisting me backwards and into the wheelchair. "It's your fault."

Winter had seen it happen too, chuckling to herself. "You getting frisky, Frenchie?"

"Shut up!" he yelled. "She caused this!"

He almost jumped backwards with his arms in the air, as to show that he hadn't violated me in any way shape or form. Especially not in front of Winter. I think he was still scared of her at this point. To be expected. She was still the tallest person I knew. And the most rugby-ist. You didn't stand in my sister's way for very long, especially when it came to matters involving me. But she seemed amused by Jaune's little mishap.

She thought we were adorable. Rightfully so. We were damn precious.

"Okay, I'd tell you to buckle up, but you'd ignore me anyways." she said, taking up position behind me and starting to push me towards the restaurant. With a very ladylike flail of her leg, she slammed the heavy iron door shut behind us.

"You's right." I said, adjusting myself so I could be more comfortable. The chair hadn't grown a seatbelt in the time since she'd last instructed me to do so anyways. "C'mon, Jaune!"

He didn't want to c'mon, he was still sour. His little arms were crossed against his chest in protest, his usually combed blond locks had become disheveled. I didn't even try to resist the urge to giggle, laughing into my hand at him. What a dork.

We pushed our way through the door and into the little diner-dressed restaurant, complete with little sun logos on the door's handle. The smell of syrup and Frosted Flakes wafted throughout of the building and into my nose. I was hungry again. Very much so. As we approached the little podium that read 'please wait to be seated', we found that we wouldn't have to wait very long. The restaurant was mostly empty, and one of the waitresses skipped up to us with a big smile on her face.

"Hello, bonjour, bienvenue Chez Cora. Trois, aujourd'hui?"

"Oui, bonjour. Ça va?" Jaune said automatically, before catching himself. His cheeks flushed. "Wait, sorry, force of habit."

Winter and I thought this was funny. She gave him an affectionate rub of the shoulder. "Yes, for three, please. Low table, if you can."

"But of course!" the waitress smiled, her accent thick and blocky, very much unlike Jaune or Ines. "By the window is o-kay with you?"

"If it's not to much trouble."

This particular Quebecer seemed a lot more inviting and friendly than anyone else we had met that day. We followed her over to the front of the building, tucking ourselves into the table she had pointed out and layed the three menus on. English, of course. I pulled myself closer to the edge of the table and locked the brakes on my chair. Jaune sat down next to me, scooting closer himself.

"Can I in-trest you in some coffee this morning? Orange juice?"

"I'll have one, two sugar." Winter said, popping open her menu. "You two don't drink coffee, do you?"

"Do you have orange pekoe tea?" Jaune asked timidly, his hands firmly squeezed between his legs.

"Of course!" the waitress, Emilie, scribbled this down. "Cream or milk?"

"Uh, milk and honey."

"Right away!" She looked to me. "Yourself?"

"Chocolate milk?" I said, feeling a little out of place. I wasn't aware that Jaune liked tea. Now I felt like the kid in the room, ordering chocolate milk while my tablemates had fancy, grownup drinks.

"Back in just a moment!" she skipped away.

I settled back in my chair. My leg still hurt, but I was dealing with it. Lucky for me at that moment, the pain had subsided from the sharp throbbing from earlier to a more manageable dull constant. I knew Winter still wouldn't give up the goods, even if I asked, so I had condemned myself to the pain for now. It probably had something to do with two hours of being perfectly level, followed by suddenly being on a slight angle in the chair's sling, causing blood to rush through my leg and into my foot. Oh well. Nothing I could do.

"I wonder if we'll make it to class today." I said to distract myself.

Jaune looked at his watch. "I doubt it. We'll probably be a couple of minutes late."

It was almost quarter to nine. Class started at nine. I knew we weren't, even with the fastest car in the world. Which at the time, conveniently had three seats. British cars are weird.

"Do you think they'd mind?"

"Yes. They would mind." he said, examining his menu. "Like, a lot. We're very much skipping school. Does the school know why you're gone?"

"I think so." I guessed. "Winter?"

"Oh, yeah, I called them. They know. So does the bank, the insurance company, the passport office, the people who deal with the health cards, aaand my own financial company."

Jaune seemed perplexed.

"Why did they have to know?"

"Change of address for me." I said, fiddling with the napkin wrapped around my fork.

"Change of address?"

"Oh, I moved in with my sister." I pointed over at her. "Everyone needs to know."

"Oh? Why'd you do that?"

I flinched. I had my reasons for leaving. I wasn't really interested in telling Jaune just yet.

"Change of scenery."

He seemed pleased with this answer. I too, started to flip through the menu, properly reading each dish over and over. Everything looked far too good and far too bad for me. That's what I like about breakfast food restaurants, though. It's all so excellent. I caught the eye of our waitress again as she started to skip back over. I already knew what I wanted, I was just going through my menu for fun at this point.

With a large silver platter in her hand, Emilie strode over and very carefully placed our drinks down. My tall glass of brown cow juice, one empty tea cup, one empty coffee mug, and two steaming white ceramic pots of early morning vigor were all placed down in the centre of the table.

"'Ave we decided?" she asked, pulling a pen and pad from the front of her apron.

"I think so. Kids?" Winter started. We both nodded with enthusiasm. "I'll have the Cora's special."

"And how would you like your eggs?"

"Sunny side up."

She scribbled this down, before turning to me.

"Strawberry-banana pancakes!" I cheered, smiling wide. The waitress seemed amused by me. Good, because I'm damn amusing. Wouldn't want anyone going around thinking I was anything but. "Please."

"Of course!" she responded, trying to match my enthusiasm. "Table syrup or Canadian maple?"

As if there was any other option but the right one. "Canadian maple."

More scribbles. She turned to Jaune. "And for you?"

"Blueberry Fields, please."

"Mm-kay, regular or soy cream?"

"Regular, I guess."

She tapped the tip of her pen against the pad, folding it up and sliding it back down and away.

"I will be back shortly!"

"Thank you!" Jaune and I said in unison. Gosh, maybe Emmy was right. Maybe we were the same person. Maybe we are. Nah, couldn't be. But here's to hoping.

"By the way, I like your dress." Jaune said after a moment.

I looked down at myself. "What, this old thing?"

"Yeah, it's pretty."

Now it was my turn to flush. Before I had the chance to do anything about it, Winter snickered from her end of the table, stirring her coffee loudly. "That's not old, I just bought you that. A week ago."

"Yeah, I know," I smiled like a lightbulb. "I like it a lot. It makes me feel like Minnie Mouse."

And it really did. High-necked, black and white, with a big silly bow tied around the back. Now, I realize Minnie wears a red dress, but that's not my point. I got to feel like a princess, and that made me feel pretty damn good.

"But why a dress? You normally wear pants or overalls, I haven't seen you wear a dress since like the third grade."

"Can't wear pants over the cast." I said, taking a sip of the chocolate milk. Judging by Winter's change in expression, I had collected some of it on my lip. I didn't bother wiping it off. "So dresses it is for another nine months."

"Nine months!?"

"It's a leg, Jaune. It doesn't fix easily. Besides, then I have to wear a leg brace for a while after that, so get used to me dressing up like this every day."

He seemed pleased enough with my answer.

"Another bonus of wearing dresses, and living with Winter is that I'm allowed to have a purse now." I proudly grabbed it from under my seat where I had secured it in the chair's cargo sling. "All my one worldly possession goes in here."

I popped the little blue leather bag open. It was by no means an expensive or fashionable purse, being only the bare minimum to replace the pockets I had forfeited when I broke my hecking leg and could no longer wear pants. But it had enough style that it looked right with my outfit and my Mary Janes.

"What would that be?"

I pulled it out.

"A second-hand cellphone so I can call my sister!" I said with as much glee as I could muster. "Because we don't have a home phone at her apartment!"

There was another added 'bonus' to having a broken leg, one that I wasn't quite comfortable telling him just yet. Or maybe ever. I was literally useless as a whole. I couldn't dress myself, I couldn't move by myself, and I couldn't even bathe myself. Winter had to do all these things for me. She had to dress me in the mornings by hand because I couldn't bend my leg to reach downwards, and just the act of sitting upright to get my dress on was a painful process. So she had to be there every time I needed in and out or even around the chair.

Worst 'perk' of it all was having to get sponge-baths. By hand. From my sister. Twice a week. I couldn't even enjoy it like the characters in manga and the like did. They always got to be washed by someone they admired or by their lover or something like that. Not by their older sisters. At least, not in the ones I read. And you can't even use hot water for sponge baths, either. Because steam ruins plaster, so the baths have to be cold.

I don't know if I ever told Jaune this. I might've, but it's pretty embarrassing. Eventually we figured out how to make washing me easier and more dignified, but that was like four months later. The tiny bathtub in Winter's apartment didn't make it that much more dignified, but close enough for me.

"Oh yeah, where do you live now?"

"'Bout halfway between our school and Sir Robert Bordon. It's a short drive."

"Can I bike it?"

"Probably. If your parents let you go that far."

"They'll let me."

We paused for a moment. This was good, since our breakfasts had just come out of the kitchen and were on their way over now. My heartrate increased, and my mouth began to leak chewing lubricant. There's something that I studied in biology that stated that the sudden preparation of the body for food was a preprogrammed response that humans developed from when we were still scavenger animals and needed to have quick-responding digestive systems so we could literally dine and dash, but this was only a convenience now.

"Sunnyside up for you, Blueberry Fields for you..." she placed their orders down first, followed by mine. "...and Strawberry-banana for you. Bon appétit!"

I don't think she was gone from our table for more than about eight seconds before I had already shoved about a third of my plate directly into my face. Syrup for the syrup god, you know.

"Weiss, napkin!" Winter teased, tossing me one. Any older and I'd have thrown it back in her face. "Like a lady."

Mouth full of pancake, syrup, strawberry and banana, I relented and unfolded the napkin into my lap. It was about then that I noticed that I had forgotten a very important thing to do. Something I should have done the moment I saw him.

"Wait, hang on." I said, swallowing and grabbing my purse again. So maybe it had two possessions in it. "Take this."

Jaune stopped eating for a moment, dropping his fork gently. Outstretched in my hand was nothing more than a faded and scratched up Sharpie that I had found in the bottom of a desk that had come with the apartment. But it had ink in it, and that was all that mattered.

"What do you want me to do with this?"

"Sign my cast." I pulled out of the table and turned so my leg was presented to him.

"Oh..." he seemed perplexed by my presentation. But he smiled anyways. "Okay!"

With an eager grin, he uncapped the marker and leaned over, easily scribbling Jaune on the plaster surface. I gleefully took the marker back from him. Lucky for me he had written it up on the top of my thigh. I flipped the marker around in my hand.

And scribbled 'Weiss +' just above where he had his name, encircling both with a little heart.

Winter spit out her egg in a fit of laughter as Jaune went beet red.

And everything was right in the world again.