The Loss 2
Sliverhero
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Here is my second part for jaune arc dealing with his failed attempt.
The first week at Saphron's house was a delicate balance between rest, small training, and learning to breathe again. Jaune's steps were careful, deliberate—sometimes too careful. His armor had been cleaned, but his limbs ached more often than not, and he found himself winded after even short walks.
Saphron fussed over him constantly, making sure he ate enough, drank enough, and slept, while Ruby hovered like a shadow, asking him to spar or practice just a little, just to keep moving.
Weiss and Yang took on a more subtle, protective role. Weiss fussed over his posture, adjusting his armor straps, offering cooling compresses after the small training sessions. "You can't push yourself too hard," she scolded quietly one afternoon. "Your body hasn't recovered from Haven, and your aura, your strength. It's not fully back yet."
Yang, meanwhile, was more physical in her approach, showing up beside him when he walked, lending him her shoulder when his knees felt weak. "C'mon, Arc, one step at a time," she said, her hand firm on his back as he struggled to keep his balance. "I've got you."
Jaune would laugh softly at their fussing, but there were moments—quiet moments in the early mornings or late at night—when he admitted to himself how much he needed it. How much he needed them.
One afternoon, Saphron returned from the market carrying a small bundle. "Meet your nephew," she announced, placing the squirming boy into Jaune's arms. Jaune froze, the boy's tiny fingers wrapped around his own, and Jaune felt a warmth he hadn't felt in months… and a weakness he hadn't expected. His arms trembled slightly under the boy's weight, and a quiet panic hit him.
"Uh… okay," he muttered, his voice tight. "I… I've got this." Ruby bounded forward. "You're doing great, Uncle Jaune!" Nora hopped up, practically bouncing. "He likes you already!"
Yang and Weiss exchanged a look. Yang's grin faltered as she leaned closer, whispering, "Look at him… he's… he's so careful with him."
Weiss's arms folded around herself, tone clipped but betraying concern. "He's… delicate. And you… you're still fragile yourself. Be careful."
Jaune laughed nervously, rocking the baby slightly. "I… I'll be fine… I think." Yang stepped closer, hand brushing his arm. "Hey, don't pretend you're fine. You're recovering, Arc. Let us help you."
Weiss joined him on the other side, her fingers brushing his hair back from his damp forehead. "We're right here. You don't have to do this alone."
For the first time in months, Jaune let himself lean into their care. The baby gurgled happily, unaware of the weight of battles lost and survived, and Jaune smiled softly, allowing his body to relax despite the lingering aches.
---
By evening, the baby asleep and the house quiet, Jaune sat by the fire, muscles sore and energy low, while Weiss brought him a warm cloth for his forehead and Yang propped his shoulders with a pillow.
"You're doing better," Weiss said softly, tone almost gentle. "But you need to rest."
Yang nudged him playfully. "Yeah, you're not saving the world tonight. Let the rest of us handle it for now." Jaune leaned back, letting the two of them fuss over him, letting himself feel weak and cared for. For once, he didn't have to be strong.
And both Weiss and Yang, watching him settle, hearts unexpectedly tugged, realized that the man before them—still recovering, still fragile, still human—was the same one who had survived Haven and carried them all through so much. And somehow, that made him… even more remarkable.
The first week at Saphron's house was a delicate balance between rest, small training, and learning to breathe again. Jaune's steps were careful, deliberate—sometimes too careful. His armor had been cleaned, but his limbs ached more often than not, and he found himself winded after even short walks.
Saphron fussed over him constantly, making sure he ate enough, drank enough, and slept, while Ruby hovered like a shadow, asking him to spar or practice just a little, just to keep moving.
Weiss and Yang took on a more subtle, protective role. Weiss fussed over his posture, adjusting his armor straps, offering cooling compresses after the small training sessions. "You can't push yourself too hard," she scolded quietly one afternoon. "Your body hasn't recovered from Haven, and your aura, your strength. It's not fully back yet."
Yang, meanwhile, was more physical in her approach, showing up beside him when he walked, lending him her shoulder when his knees felt weak. "C'mon, Arc, one step at a time," she said, her hand firm on his back as he struggled to keep his balance. "I've got you."
Jaune would laugh softly at their fussing, but there were moments—quiet moments in the early mornings or late at night—when he admitted to himself how much he needed it. How much he needed them.
One afternoon, Saphron returned from the market carrying a small bundle. "Meet your nephew," she announced, placing the squirming boy into Jaune's arms. Jaune froze, the boy's tiny fingers wrapped around his own, and Jaune felt a warmth he hadn't felt in months… and a weakness he hadn't expected. His arms trembled slightly under the boy's weight, and a quiet panic hit him.
"Uh… okay," he muttered, his voice tight. "I… I've got this." Ruby bounded forward. "You're doing great, Uncle Jaune!" Nora hopped up, practically bouncing. "He likes you already!"
Yang and Weiss exchanged a look. Yang's grin faltered as she leaned closer, whispering, "Look at him… he's… he's so careful with him."
Weiss's arms folded around herself, tone clipped but betraying concern. "He's… delicate. And you… you're still fragile yourself. Be careful."
Jaune laughed nervously, rocking the baby slightly. "I… I'll be fine… I think." Yang stepped closer, hand brushing his arm. "Hey, don't pretend you're fine. You're recovering, Arc. Let us help you."
Weiss joined him on the other side, her fingers brushing his hair back from his damp forehead. "We're right here. You don't have to do this alone."
For the first time in months, Jaune let himself lean into their care. The baby gurgled happily, unaware of the weight of battles lost and survived, and Jaune smiled softly, allowing his body to relax despite the lingering aches.
---
By evening, the baby asleep and the house quiet, Jaune sat by the fire, muscles sore and energy low, while Weiss brought him a warm cloth for his forehead and Yang propped his shoulders with a pillow.
"You're doing better," Weiss said softly, tone almost gentle. "But you need to rest."
Yang nudged him playfully. "Yeah, you're not saving the world tonight. Let the rest of us handle it for now." Jaune leaned back, letting the two of them fuss over him, letting himself feel weak and cared for. For once, he didn't have to be strong.
And both Weiss and Yang, watching him settle, hearts unexpectedly tugged, realized that the man before them—still recovering, still fragile, still human—was the same one who had survived Haven and carried them all through so much. And somehow, that made him… even more remarkable.