Destiny No More

Chapter 42

Pyrrha squirmed in place as she tried to force herself to sit still, even as the needle was rather quickly yanked from her arm. She clenched her teeth and groaned slightly but said nothing, the medical personnel were by no means gentle, but they clearly knew what they were doing. She wasn't sure if it was because they worked for Atlas, the constant stereotype being that Atlesian's were naturally emotionless, or that they were simply tired.

The ship's medical personnel had spent the last day or so keeping them under constant watch to be sure that they were all safe. With the amount of Venom that had been running through Pyrrha's system, the doctors had been surprised to find that she wasn't suffering from any major signs of nerve or tissue damage. Aside from the occasional uncontrollable shaking, and a little bit of lingering pain, she was feeling surprisingly okay. The doctors had said that she was remarkably lucky, but couldn't offer any further explanation for her condition.

Qrow had it a little bit rougher thanks to the beatings that he'd received, but it wasn't anything that would cause problems in the future. He had survived, and though he was down for the moment, he would recover in time. Despite how everything had quickly gone from bad to worse, the mission had been a success.

"Most of those are going to leave scars." The Doctor gestured to one of the many cuts across her body. Most of them had been fairly superficial, but it was where Callows had stung her, and despite her Aura they didn't appear to completely go away. Her arms had taken the brunt of the attacks, although her thigh and back had been stung once or twice as well.

Pyrrha shrugged softly. "What's a couple more?" Looking up at the Doctor she didn't feel the need to clarify what she meant. It was one of the first things people noticed when looking at her.

"Huntsmen get scars, the good ones anyways." Qrow said from the otherside of the medical bay. "The others-"

"Get dead." Pyrrha smiled. "You've used that line before."

"It's a good line." Qrow mumbled to himself. Turning his head to look at the chair sat beside his bed. "What are you laughing about?"

Winter looked back at him for a moment before looking away, clearly struggling to hide the rather amused expression on her face. "I have no idea what you're referring to."

"Right." Qrow said. "Regardless of whether the Ice Queen here believes it or not, it's true."

"I didn't say I disagreed." Winter added, her amused smirk having fallen back into a neutral expression. "While the wording may be lacking, the sentiment is an accurate one. I've yet to meet a veteran Huntsman without several scars or blemishes."

"And they always have a story to go with them." Qrow added. "Defeating Tyrian Callows? Atlas' most wanted? Now that's one hell of a story."

"Sadly one you shall not be able to tell." Winter's amusement returned as she looked back towards Qrow. "Weren't you asleep when he was killed?"

Qrow glared at her softly. "In case you didn't notice I had been a bit busy beforehand." He glanced up and down Winter for a moment. "Besides, I don't see a whole lot in the way of scars on you."

Winter hummed softly. "I have my fair share of scars... perhaps I'll show you sometime."

"Oh, trust me, I've got you beaten in that department." Qrow smirked. "I'm more than willing to compare stories whenever you feel up to it, Ice Queen." His smile fell away, his face taking on a sombre expression. "Tai and I had this tradition back in the old days..." Qrow hesitated for a moment. "After coming back from a mission we'd always go out for a drink, celebrating the fact that everyone came back alive. Haven't done it since... well, how about we revive it?"