Chapter Eleven: Departure
America walked triumphantly out of the hospital and shared a grin with Nora as she did the same. He skin tone was a little ashen and hers was still three shades too pale— and her shoulder was wrapped in precautionary gauze— but she stood on her own two feet.
America could not help but worry about her. Even with Jaune's Semblance assisting, she was out unnaturally fast, a mere two days after she had been admitted. Even worse, he was not sure he could he fully trust that the staff of the hospital had their patients' best interests at heart. Although they forced America to stay in their care to make sure he was not about to suffer another panic attack, they were a bit too eager to see the Huntsmen and Huntresses leave. Whether it was because the uninjured stood guard both nights— an act done without demand for payment that one would think would be appreciated— or because of some folktales that people with active Auras attracted Grimm, the staff was happy to see them go. That did not stop their friends from hovering.
"Are you sure you should be walking?" Jaune fretted as he lingered at Nora's shoulder like a frazzled bee. "Maybe you should sit down. Should I ask for a wheelchair? Do you want some water?"
Unlike Jaune, Canada did not voice his concerns. Instead he stared at America like his twin might vanish if he blinked. England, on the other hand, kept his distance. Yet even with that distance, America could smell the sour tang of alcohol lingering around his brother. There was no question where England went the past couple days.
America's stomach sank with guilt and his skin crawled as he recalled the spells. He repressed a shiver. They felt wrong, and the soul-protecting one hurt, not that he would ever admit that to England. His older brother still shot him looks when he thought America would not notice, staring at him like he would drop any second.
America decided he would give his older brother space even though his insecurities stirred when he thought of England's anger. What if the worst happened today? He did not want to leave England with regrets. But he did not want to take the first step to mending things… again.
Nora finally had enough and waved Jaune's hands away. "I'm all healed up." she said. "Stop fretting."
Jaune looked unconvinced. "You took a blade through the shoulder."
"I remember." Nora said dryly and Jaune cringed. "Stop worrying. Kiss your girlfriend."
Jaune turned red. Pyrrha chuckled. Nora glanced sidelong at Ren but he did not appear to notice. The hospital door swung open and Italy came out, pushing Romano in a wheelchair. America's heart skipped a beat before he noticed Romano's scowl. Said scowl deepened when he saw America and Nora.
"Why the hell aren't you two stuck in one of these?" he demanded.
"We asked to walk. Really nicely." America said innocently.
Romano gnashed his teeth and stood up, shaking off Italy's hand. He walked a couple steps and grumbled, rubbing his back.
America counted heads and frowned. "Where's Winter, Oscar, and Team RWBY?"
"They're saying goodbye." Canada said quietly.
America paused. "Oh." We're leaving?
"Its not like we can stick around." Vale pointed out.
America sighed and England glanced his way. His gaze sharpened and he stepped in front of America, pushing him roughly behind him. Penny's backpack clicked and her weapons floated freely at her shoulders. America's hands ignited but he let the fire fade when he saw who his overprotective companions were glowering at.
"What are you doing here?" England growled.
Doctor Charon raised his hands peacefully. "I mean no harm. I merely wish to speak with Alfred—"
"You've spoken to him enough." England snapped.
Charon winced.
America put a hand on his brother's arm and stopped him from telling the doctor exactly what he thought of him. Or maybe from blasting the man to smithereens. "Arthur, it's okay." He looked to the doctor and nodded to a set of stairs across the street. "We can talk right there."
England scowled but stepped aside.
Penny did not lower her weapons. "I will accompany you." she stated.
"Pen—"
"I will accompany you." she repeated.
America did not object. He followed Charon to the stairs and watched the man sit heavily on them. America descended more gracefully, and took the time to scrutinize the doctor. Dark bags lined his eyes and his skin was sallower than it had been a couple days ago. His hair was unkempt, and he held himself like a heavy weight had been placed upon his shoulders. The doctor almost seemed smaller, like he had lost physical mass overnight.
"I'm sorry."
America's thoughts screeched to a halt and rebooted. He still failed to understand the words. "What?"
"I'm sorry." Charon repeated. "I've wronged you."
Unsure of how to respond, America glanced helplessly at Penny, but her back was to him as she stood guard. He looked back to Charon.
The doctor met his gaze firmly. "I treated you unfairly. I put the investigation before your health and my duty as a doctor. I wanted— needed Ironwood to be brought to justice so I ignored my better nature. I just wanted you to know I regret it."
America nibbled his lip. "...Who did you lose?" he asked quietly.
"My brother." Charon said quietly. "He was a soldier like myself but he was in Atlas when the borders closed. He objected to the Institute."
America could fill in the blanks. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Charon said softly. "My grief does not excuse my treatment of you. Though… it may explain why I was given the task of investigating Ironwood."
"Why are you a doctor and an investigator?" America asked curiously.
The perplexed look Charon gave him soon morphed into one of comprehension. "Ah. I forget that other Kingdoms run their military differently than Atlas. In order to be a doctor in the Atlas military, you must also perform other duties."
"I don't understand." America said plainly. Something clicked and his eyes widened. "Wait… are you saying that Atlas's military doesn't have medics?"
"There are medics." Charon explained patiently. "But those medics are also active combatants and have duties in other fields. It was implemented since Atlas's inception as a way to expand the skill-sets of Atlas's military personnel and compile resources more efficiently. I chose to become an investigator in the hopes of avoiding inflicting harm." His visage darkened. "You may find it odd considering my recent… passion, but I have no desire to harm anyone."
America stared at him mutely. What he explained was not 'expanding skill-sets'. That was the clear definition of horrifying. Charon was implying that Atlas saw personnel that only healed and cared for the wounded as a waste of resources, so they were forced to take on more combat-oriented and violent roles as well. America's lip curled in disgust.
"Atlas's corruption and arrogance ran deep. Ozpin should never have trusted her with a Relic." Vale said. Her mood soured but she said nothing more.
"I have seen my error." Charon said suddenly. "Which is why I will resign tomorrow."
"What?" America blurted. A thought struck him. "They're not blaming you for Ironwood's escape are they?"
Charon shook his head. "No. I am merely moving on. Atlas is no more, so my time serving it has passed." He rose from his seat. "Goodbye, Alfred."
America shook his offered hand. He watched the doctor walk away until he disappeared around a corner.
"Alfred?" Penny said. "I have a question."
"What is it?" America asked.
Unblinking green eyes scrutinized him. "Why are you not angry with Doctor Charon?"
America considered her question and shrugged. "There are bigger things to be angry about. I don't want to spend my life holding petty grudges."
"I do not compute." Penny stated. Her eyes narrowed. "He put you in danger. He put his goals over your health."
America shot her a befuddled look but she said nothing more. "Might as well move on before Arthur bursts a blood vessel."
"How likely is that—" Penny paused. "Are you 'joking'?"
"Yes!" America cheered. "Good job, Penny."
Her lips twitched but she did not smile. Vale shifted in America's mind and he directed his attention to her.
Something you want to say?
"Do you really not hold grudges?"
I never said that. I just said there are bigger things to hold grudges for.
Vale considered his words. "Indeed there are." she murmured, vitriol dipping into her voice.
America frowned as he crossed the street back to the others. Do you have a grudge against someone?
"Only one person."
Who? America asked curiously.
Vale's mood darkened like a shadow brushing his mind. "Take a wild guess."
Salem? Mistral? Atlas?
"No."
America considered the street below his feet. He looked to his friends, noting that Team RWBY was still absent. Oscar was gone as well. A chill went up his spine.
...Ozpin?
Her silence said it all.
Something cold settled in America's gut. What did he do?
Vale laughed, brittle and harsh. "You're asking the wrong question. What didn't he do?"
XXXXXXX
Qrow petted Ruby's hair as she curled up against his side, clinging to his flimsy hospital gown like a lifeline. Yang was more composed than her sister but struggled to hold herself together, her eyes suspiciously bright.
"Hey, don't cry over a dusty old bird like me." Qrow said.
"You called yourself old again." Yang joked weakly.
"I guess I did." Qrow said lightly. He sobered. "We all know my part in this fight is over. It's time for you to move on without me."
"But you'll be alone." Ruby whispered, distressed.
Qrow chuckled. "Nah. I'll have plenty of hot nurses to keep me company."
"Ew." Yang complained.
Qrow smirked. It soon faded. "Don't worry about me. I'm set for my hospital stay and Weiss's brother has a few tricks up his sleeves if the hospital staff tries to pull something." He shook his head wryly. "To think I'm trusting a Schnee."
Ruby nibbled on her lip until it turned red. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she pressed.
"Yes." Qrow said patiently. "Now shoo. Go on your mission before I have to kick you out."
"Oh really? How would you manage that?" Yang asked teasingly.
Qrow smirked. "One time I was in a pub in Vacuo and there was this hot bartender. Pretty face, nice chest, great ass—"
"Stoooopppppppp." Yang wailed.
Ruby giggled helplessly and wiped at her eye. "We'll ask Alfred to boost our Scrolls signals so we can call you every day." she promised.
Qrow's lips twitched. "Every day?"
"Well, maybe not every day." Ruby amended. "But definitely every other day."
Qrow chuckled. "I look forward to it."
His nieces exchanged a look before they crushed him in a hug.
"We'll be back." Yang promised.
"We'll miss you." Ruby said.
Qrow kissed the tops of their heads. "Go save the world. Make me proud."
Ruby's eye filled with tears but she only sniffled, nodding. She grabbed Crescent Rose from where it leaned against the wall and the two Huntresses gave Qrow one final embrace before departing. Once the door clicked shut, Qrow let his smile fade.
"How long have you been there?"
Ozpin stepped closer to the bed and laid his hands atop his cane. "Not long. Your nieces failed to notice me."
"Obviously." Qrow said dryly.
He shifted on his pillows and grimaced when his legs failed to move. The lack of feeling down there was still disconcerting. Qrow still had legs but he could not do a damn thing with them. He was tempted to see if his bird form was affected but feared the answer. So here he was. The mighty Qrow Branwen was bedridden and paralyzed, unable to walk and certainly unable to fight. As Ozpin clearly knew.
"Are you going to keep staring or is there something you want to say?" Qrow asked.
Ozpin sat down in a plastic chair and gazed at his cane. "We are reaching the final battle." he said softly.
"Are you excited?" Qrow prompted.
"If our victory was more assured, I would be." Ozpin said. "But Salem has three Relics of four. We are fighting an uphill battle..."
"Oh, no." Qrow said sharply. "Don't you start doubting yourself now, Oz. You've made it too far. Hell, you're in the last stretch. You'll pull it off."
Ozpin blinked, startled, and smiled thinly. "It seems Ms. Rose's optimism has rubbed off on you."
"Maybe." Qrow grunted noncommittally. He frowned. "But that's not why you're here."
"No." Ozpin said. "I simply wanted to thank you for everything you've done."
"I didn't do it for you." Qrow scoffed, but his red eyes softened.
"I know. I thank you all the same." Ozpin said. He rose from his seat. "Goodbye, Qrow. Perhaps we will meet again someday."
Qrow watched him depart and laid his head back on his pillows. "You bastard. You're not coming back."
XXXXXXX
Blake searched Sun's peaceful face, scrutinizing it for any sign of change. Not a single muscle twitched beneath his pale skin, skin that was already losing its color from either the lack of sunlight or bad health. The news played in the background, muffled to even her cat ears, but Blake could not find the energy to turn it off and leave silence.
Weiss had tried to draw her into a conversation but had given up before dawn. Blake was in no mood to talk but appreciated her quiet companionship regardless. So they merely sat at Sun's bedside all night without getting a wink of sleep. As the news droned on and on about rising Dust prices, Weiss looked at her Scroll and finally broke the heavy silence.
"Everyone's packing up. Is there anything you need?"
Blake shook her head.
Weiss sent a response to whoever messaged her and returned the Scroll to her pocket. She shifted uncomfortably on the plastic hospital chair. "...Do you want to stay here?"
Blake shook her head again. "No. Sun would pester me if I did."
She could hear the monkey Faunus badgering her over such a decision, poking and cajoling her until she went with her team. That did not make her feel better about leaving him behind. Weiss did not attempt to change her mind. The news moved on to cover a string of Grimm sightings on Beacon's grounds. They were moving closer to the outskirts of the Academy's property. Or they were tightening security and patrolling the border?
"Hey." Weiss grabbed her hands, holding them both gently. "Once we've won, we can figure things out. Maybe defeating Emerald will wake him up. Or we can use a Relic. Sun..." She hesitated but carried on. "Sun isn't dead. We can still save him."
"I want to believe that." Blake whispered.
"Then believe." Weiss said firmly. "He wouldn't want you mourning him like this."
Blake's ears perked up and her lips twitched. "You're right." She stood and took Sun's cold, limp hand. "I promise I'll be back. Hang on, okay?"
Sun did not answer.
Blake sighed, ears drooping, but looked to the door.
"Right." Weiss said awkwardly. "Let's head to the air..."
She trailed off, staring the screen. Blake followed her gaze. On the news, a static-covered and glitching Lisa Lavender frowned back at them. The newsroom grew choppy as lines of static crossed the screen and the reporter's picture copied itself, growing fuzzy.
"We appear to be having technical difficulties." her crackling voice said. "Please stand by why we—"
The screen turned completely into snow-like static, then went black. A clear image appeared on the screen, showing a human man and Faunus woman standing side by side on what appeared to be a platform. Both wore pieces of armor over their civilian clothes, and masks covered their features except their eyes and the woman's bear ears. More masked figures stood in a line behind them, rifles in their hands, and their faces completely covered, leaving even their eyes masked.
"People of Remnant." the woman began without preamble. "A new era is upon us. Faunus, humans, Huntsmen and civilians; united as one against our common enemy, an enemy that has plagued us since the inception of the Kingdom of Atlas. I speak not of the Grimm, but of those that seek to divide us, that wish to shackle us in the chains of poverty. Those that looked down upon us, that trapped us beneath their iron boots and told us we did not have the strength to rise. But they were wrong."
The woman glared at the screen, and if Blake did not know better she'd say she was glaring directly at her. "Our eyes have been opened. We have found the strength they tried to hide from us. Together, we have fought those that kept us in oppressive squalor. We won."
She nodded off-screen and a hooded figure was dragged into frame by two masked figures. The two held their prisoner by his bound arms as the Faunus woman approached and yanked the hood from the bound man's head.
Jacques Schnee glared at the camera. His suit was dirty and torn, and his pale cheeks colored purple with bruises and cuts. Blake's eyes snapped to Weiss but the former heiress had no reaction, staring at the screen with a blank expression on her face.
"This is Jacques Schnee, the CEO of the infamous Schnee Dust Company." the woman declared as she paced around the disheveled man. "He is also a murderer, and an instigator of mass genocide. Thousands of workers died in his mines, and thousands more in the Institute he helped create. They left behind families, friends, children. And yet this fine member of Atlas's Council cared only for the Lien he lost. The Schnee family took and took from those that worked for them, but did they ever give in return?"
"NO!" an unseen crowd roared.
The woman's eyes glittered. "No, he did not. The SDC's greed took people's livelihood. It took their lives. And yet this man sought to take more from us by massacring those whose lives he saw as a waste. And the Council he was a part of let him. After all, cutting off heating to the slums would 'help preserve our dwindling Dust supplies for those that actually pay taxes.'"
The crowd booed.
The woman halted in front of Jacques Schnee. "The corrupted, tyrannical Kingdom of Atlas is no more. No longer are we the footstools of the selfish rich. No longer are we oppressed. We are equals. We are free. So let us erase the source of Atlas's corruption. We won't be shackled!"
"We are free!" the crowd screamed.
Blake slowly realized that this was not a publicized trial. Jacques Schnee was not there to be questioned and given a guilty verdict. He was not there to be asked if he regretted his crimes. Her heart turned to ice.
The line of masked people stepped aside and Jacques Schnee was shoved against the wall. The CEO of the SDC said nothing, still glaring at the camera as the rebels stepped back into frame. They aimed and Blake lurched forward and covered Weiss's eyes.
The sharp cracks of gunshots pierced her ears and she averted her gaze. Off-screen, the crowd roared in approval. Blake glanced at the screen and pulled Weiss's head to her chest, frantically searching for the remote. She spotted the thin black device and dragged Weiss with her as she lunged for it, turning off the news.
When the screen went black, Blake finally pulled away from Weiss. Glazed blue eyes looked up at her but Blake knew her friend did not see her. Abruptly, Weiss shoved her away and walked out of the room.
Blake followed her into the hall and whispers immediately reached her ears. They were not the only ones to see the broadcast. She hurried to walk at Weiss's side but was not acknowledged. They exited the hospital and were immediately set upon by Ruby and Yang. The silver-eyed girl's skin was ashen and her arms raised, but Weiss stepped back, raising a hand to ward off her partner's hug.
"I need to go." Weiss mumbled vaguely.
She brushed past her team and summoned a glyph, speeding down the street. Ruby made to follow but Yang stopped her. "Don't, Ruby." she said quietly.
Ruby's expression contorted with distress. "But Weiss—"
"We'll meet up with her later." Yang's calm facade cracked. "I think we all know where she's going."
XXXXXXX
Weiss activated another glyph and skated around a corner. She activated another glyph and launched herself over a startled driver's truck. She activated another glyph and propelled herself into the air. Another shot her along the ground, as graceful as an ice skater. It was all instinct, with no thought involved. She couldn't think. Her mind was static. Just static. Static like before the broadcast—
They wouldn't have been able to get live footage from Atlas with the CCT down. The broadcast wasn't interrupted. It was a publicity stunt—
No. No.
She couldn't think.
She couldn't think.
By extension, she couldn't feel.
Good.
Her instincts took her along an unfamiliar path, but she recognized the destination. She halted outside the plain green door and patted her pockets, only to realize she did not have a key. Weiss stared at the closed door and her eyes burned. She didn't have a key. She couldn't get in. It was almost enough to make her cry but she wasn't going to not like this not now not—
The door opened and Whitley beamed at her. "Hello, sister. I saw you speed up here. Not to be boorish, but surely there are facilities at the hospital."
An eyebrow cocked at her mockingly. Once, she would have thought it was malicious. Now, she knew it was his way of teasing. She did not move from the entrance. Whitley glanced behind him and took her hand, pulling her past open boxes.
"Don't just stand there. I know it's a bit of a mess, but of course we're still moving in." He deftly stepped over a box filled with papers. "Just watch your step. I think there's drinking glasses in one of these. But don't be concerned. Klein put all of your things in your bag for your trip—"
"Father is dead. They showed his execution on the news."
The words escaped her before she could stop them. They hung in the air like a crumbling mountain slowly falling down on top of them. Whitley froze, his hand still in hers. His eyes flicked up to her face and went round. He lips twitched and he smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.
"Sister, it's very barbaric to joke about things like that—"
Weiss silently shook her head and Whitley's jaw clicked shut. His forced smile faded and he stare at her. The expression on his face reminded her of a small, bedraggled puppy she had found when she was a child. The poor thing had been lost and alone, somehow having found itself inside a less-used wing of the mansion. When Weiss showed her find to him, Klein had guessed it came in through an open delivery door. Jacques had curled his lip at the mangy thing and took it from her before she could gather the courage to ask to keep it. Weiss never saw it again. Her father probably had someone kill it. He had no problems with killing people, after all.
Weiss's vision blurred. She did not yet cry, and was not sure what she wanted to cry for. Was it her father's de—what happened? Or was it the slow realization of the implications that dragged her down?
I became a Huntress to redeem this family.
And now her family's crimes had been put on display for the world to see. She wanted to redeem the Schnee Dust Company but the fall of Atlas made that impossible. With the loss of Atlas and its CEO, the company would crumble. What was gone could no longer be redeemed. Her fight to go to Beacon and escape from Atlas were all for—
Pounding footsteps reached her ears. The door opened and Winter rushed through. Th oldest sister looked as calm and composed as always but the way she swept over and hugged them was all wrong. Weiss exchanged a look with an equally confused Whitley.
"Winter?" she asked timidly.
Their older sister did not release them. "Are you alright?" Her voice was low and raspy. "Did… Did you see the news?"
Weiss swallowed.
"We know about father." Whitley said quietly.
Winter tensed. She did not cry. None of them did. Instead they stood in emotionally-repressed silence. Weiss had to break it before it broke her.
"I—"
"I'm not sad." Whitley said. His pale brow furrowed and discomfort danced in his icy blue eyes. "Father is dead but I'm not grieving… Is something wrong with me?"
"No." Weiss said instantly. "Our relationship with Father was… complicated."
She did not know what else to say, not when she herself was wondering why she mourned the loss of her dream more than the man who fathered her. Then warm arms encased them all and she became trapped in the calm kindness of Klein's brown eyes.
"No matter what you feel, or don't, it is alright." he said firmly, holding them all securely in his arms. "Jacques Schnee was a complex man, but he was still your father."
"Was." Weiss echoed.
A tremor passed over Whitley's face but he did not cry. No tears swam in his eyes. Weiss wondered if he struggled not to grieve, or felt guilty for being unable to.
"Do you need us to stay?" she asked.
Whitley understood what she was asking and shook his head. "No. Klein and I will be alright. Our position here is secure. And…" He hesitated. "You need to save the world. I have ears. I know what's going on."
Weiss shared a pained look with Winter. Her sister did not appear conflicted about having to leave, and Weiss did not either. Taking time to grieve when she was not sure if she needed— or even wanted— to felt… wrong.
Weiss hugged her brother tightly. "We'll be back."
Whitley wiped at his eyes. "You had better."
"We will." Weiss repeated.
Winter said nothing.
Klein handed them their bags and they hugged him once last time before departing. Weiss turned back as the door clicked shut.
"If you need time, no one will begrudge you." Winter said quietly.
Weiss shook her head. "No. I won't be left behind again. We're finishing this. Together."
Winter nodded in assent. Her expression was smooth, all comfort gone, and Weiss was relieved. She was not the only one who felt nothing. Jacques Schnee was dead but…
"Young lady, I don't give a damn about what you want. This isn't about you! This is about the Schnee family name, and your apparent insistence on dragging it through the mud."
Slap!
"This behavior of yours is incredibly disappointing. You couldn't possibly understand the lengths I've gone to in order to keep this family where it is. You think running off like your sister is going to make the Schnee name stronger? You're wrong. Siding with her only divides us."
"You're not leaving Atlas. You're not to leave the manor grounds unless I specifically allow it. You are going to remain here, out of sight and out of trouble, until you and I come to an agreement on your future."
"You! Do you realize what you've cost me?"
Jacques Schnee was her father.
But she did not grieve for him at all.
XXXXXXX
A/N: Some of the dialogue in that last section was from RWBY Volume Four Episode Seven: Punished. I do not own.
Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed and stuff!
