Heart Attack

Cups!

I looked at Jaune, startled he had woken me up. I sighed, rubbing my fists over my eyes, wiping away any tears that might have lingered.

“Jaune! I… apologize! Did I wake you?”

“No… I couldn’t sleep,” he said softly, sitting next to me. “I came here… well… to say I’m sorry.”

“Oh!” I tilted my head. Why would he apologize? “There is no need!”

“No, I should say sorry,” Jaune said regretfully. “I was way out of line. I yelled at you when you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I understand,” I said gently, taking his hands in mine — not romantically, just steadying him the way one friend steadies another. “I am afraid as well. Things like this… losing everything you believe in… it’s heartbreaking. But now all we can do is find a better way to change things. I promise, Jaune, we will get them under control.”

“I know… I know you will.” He managed a small, fragile smile. “I want to help. I want to help you and the others, and I also want to help save Oscar from vanishing.”

“Thank you… may I ask you to help me with something?”

“Anything!” He was blushing — not in love, but from sincerity. It warmed me; rare to see kindness shine through fear.

“Help me find a metal or plastic cup — and maybe call my friends. I need to do a family activity they showed me. I could do it alone… but I prefer company.”

Jaune looked confused but nodded. He brought me a wooden cup and hurried off to find the others. I held the cup in my hands, breathing deeply. My song began.

The rhythm of the cup was steady — knock, sweep, clap, tap. It calmed me. The memory of the film — Pitch Perfect — flickered in my mind: the first movie I ever watched with the whole Batfamily, on a Christmas night, sitting close to Dick, eating popcorn, laughing when I did not understand the jokes but loving their joy anyway. That memory lived inside the rhythm.

“I got my ticket for the long way ‘round,” I sang softly, the melody gentle. “Two bottles of whiskey for the way…”

I barely noticed Qrow pause mid-drink at the word whiskey. My friends joined in without hesitation. Damian, Jason, and Tim appeared, cups in hand, their voices blending harmoniously:

“And I sure would like some sweet company — and I’m leaving tomorrow, what do you say?”

Others gathered around. The team’s wary eyes softened. Some were confused, but most smiled, pulled into the warmth of the moment. We passed cups in rhythm, our voices overlapping.

“When I’m gone… when I’m gone… you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone…”

The room filled with laughter and claps as more cups joined — Oscar, Ren, even Yang tapping on the table. For the first time since arriving, it felt like family again. My family. I didn’t need Dick anymore. This was enough.

Oscar’s small arms suddenly wrapped around me, hugging tight.

“Heh, looks like pipsqueak likes ya,” Jason laughed.

“I like him too,” I smiled softly, stroking Oscar’s hair. “He is like my brother.”

“Really?” Oscar asked, surprised. “After all this…?”

“Oscar, you didn’t want this. None of it is your fault. Why would I think any differently?”

“As she said,” Damian added quietly, arms folded. “You are not at fault. By the way, we need to say something — at least Mockingjay and I have to.”