Weiss Schnee
"WEISS!"
She was feeling sleepy, and had a hard time forming words in her head, let alone understanding speech. Even then, she definitely recognized that someone was calling her name. She looked over and saw Torchwick kneeling beside her. He was shaking, chin dimpled as he frowned, and looking down at her intensely. It was, perhaps, the most sincere display of concern she'd ever seen from him.
...Wait, did he just call her 'Weiss'? Had he ever done that before? Wow, something must be really wrong, then. She chuckled to herself as she absently wondered what had him so upset.
Oh well. She was suddenly very tired. He'd just have to wait until morning to tell her what was wrong. She allowed the weight that was pulling at her eyelids to finally have its way, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
Warmth and peace. She was in a good place.
The ground beneath her seemed to turn into gelatin and suck her inside, pulling her away at a gentle, relaxing pace. She floated along through the inky darkness all around her, feeling an intense euphoria. There was a strange, nagging sensation that she was forgetting something really important, but she let it get swept away. If she didn't remember something, it must not be important, right?
As her descent continued, the blackness she was traveling in began to slowly light up; nothingness gave way to familiar sights and sounds. She watched as the halls of the Schnee family manor flickered into existence around her. It was strangely comforting to see her old home again, given how hard she'd fought to escape it.
Escape it?
That sense of forgetting something surfaced in her mind again. When did she escape? What had she been doing? Confusion was creating fear in her heart, which was displacing that pleasing warmth that had been filling her chest ever since she closed her eyes. She shook her head and forced those feelings back into the pit they came from. It wasn't important. All that mattered was that she was home!
Yes, her home. Those long, winding hallways of blue marble. Wide, empty space. Servants who never made eye contact. A mother who gradually pulled away from her. A sister whom she loved dearly, but who suddenly vanished. A father who…
As her thoughts fell on him, Jacques Schnee appeared within the home the void had crafted. The tall man's icy gaze narrowed in anger as he stomped down the hall. He was younger than when she'd seen him last, but still old, with thinned hair and the same push-broom mustache he'd worn for as long as she'd been alive.
"Where do you get the utter temerity required to embarrass me like this!?" He spat. He shook his head and increased his pace. He had a young girl by the wrist, and as he increased his speed her tiny legs struggled to keep up.
"I'm sorry! Please, you're hurting me!" The girl offered a meek protest as she was pulled along, tears falling down her pale cheeks.
Weiss remembered this… this was her. When she was 9 years old she'd been invited to a gala ball the SDC was hosting. It was one of the first times she'd ever been allowed to attend a company event, and she was quite excited to experience a party! She was finally going to be a proper grown-up like Winter. Her father had forbidden her to speak without his approval, but even that didn't dampen her spirits.
Then it happened…
Children are innocent, you know? She hadn't had any ill-intent in her heart when she said it; she hadn't even realized she was saying anything hurtful at all. When Weiss saw that nice old lady, she sincerely believed she had painted in her makeup to dress like a zombie, and moreover thought the woman had done an excellent job! Sadly, the councilwoman didn't take her compliment the way she'd hoped. She got mad, and Weiss' father, well…
"I'm sorry. I said I was sorry! Please slow down. You're hurting me!" The little girl's voice was broken with sobs as she struggled along behind him. He was pulling at her arm so fiercely she feared he may rip it off.
Her pleas for mercy only seemed to antagonize him further, though. He didn't slow his pace, instead hissing in disgust as he looked back at her.
"You are the single most selfish brat I've ever seen in my life!" He roared, his eyes full of nothing but anger. "Pain isn't important. You're not important. The only thing that matters is reputation. Are you capable of comprehending what you did today? If the councilwoman withdraws her support of my proposal, one of our biggest buyers may back out of their contract! Oh, but that's okay, right? I may as well gather the shareholders now and tell them 'our market share is shrinking, but it's fine! My daughter said she was sorry!'"
"I'm sorry!" Weiss repeated again, overtaken by fear and anxiety. She still didn't fully understand what she'd done, and her father's complicated speech did little to help her.
"STOP APOLOGIZING!" He slowed his walk abruptly and raised his hand. Weiss instinctively shrunk away. Her father had never hit her before, but when he got angry like this, she was always afraid he may. Seeing her complete terror, the older man paused and lowered his arm. A glint of regret and self awareness flashed in his eyes, though that lasted only a moment before he huffed angrily.
"Bad choices have bad consequences. Shut up, stop thinking, and obey your father. Stop complaining about how much it hurts. If the consequences of your actions start getting painful, you have no one to blame but yourself."
They continued down the hall until they got to her bedroom. He opened the door and threw her into the darkness within. The little girl attempted to regain her balance as she was thrown, but couldn't adjust to the force, and tripped over her feet, falling face-first onto the ground.
"I don't want to see you again for the rest of the night. I don't want to hear you again for the rest of the week." The hot fury was replaced by a cool, simmering anger as he cut his eyes toward his daughter, not even feigning concern for whether the fall had hurt her. He shut the door without another word, locked it, and walked away.
Weiss didn't even bother climbing up onto her bed. She just curled up into a ball on the floor and began to weep.
That was when I realized that my family had changed. Or maybe that it had always been broken…
Weiss banished this memory from her surroundings, watching as the familiar sight of her home faded back into darkness. When only the poor, weeping child remained, she looked at her thoughtfully, but soon even the girl faded.
What was going on? Where was she? Now she was certain she was forgetting something, and her inability to recall it made her tremble. This place she was in was… wrong. She wasn't sure why, but she knew it wasn't real.
The darkness around her was already beginning to shift again. A bright blue sky erupted into existence above her. A gentle breeze began to blow, carrying cool, fragrant air across her body. The ground beneath her changed from black to brown, with the stalks of plants pushing up in all directions. She was standing in a field of… wheat? It was hard to tell, since harvest season had already come and gone by now. Oh, and also, the field was on fire.
That's right, she remembered now. This wasn't a place Weiss Schnee had ever seen, but she remembered it all the same. This was a memory of Roman Torchwick.
When he was 12 years old, he'd happened upon an abandoned aircraft near the edge of his hometown. As a bored, lonely kid with nothing better to do, he'd spent weeks repairing it. He was going to take it and fly somewhere far away. Change his name and do something great!
Well, the best laid plans of mice and men…
He'd gotten into the air easily enough, using an empty pasture as a runway and launching himself upward. Sadly, he was only airborne for ten seconds before he came crashing down in a nearby field. The crash wasn't as bad as it could have been- Roman got a few cuts and bruises, but crawled out of the shattered cockpit no worse for the wear. However, the heat from the engine and the leaking fuel had set the plants on fire around him, and he was forced to escape from a cloud of smoke as he crawled away.
Weiss felt herself pulled into the mind of the little boy, watching through his eyes as he pushed his way out the shattered side window and crawled through the smoke, coughing and hacking. He got far enough away that he no longer felt the heat, and turned back to look at the mess he'd made, starting to panic despite himself.
"Well, well. Y'know, I had a feeling it was you!" A man's voice, deep, stern, but kind, echoed behind him. Roman felt his heart stop as he gasped, turning around to see his dad walking toward him.
The figure that approached him was clearly supposed to be his father, but he had no definition as Weiss watched the memory play out. He looked like a humanoid shape composed of the darkness that made up this place, pantomiming the actions Roman's father was supposed to take
She racked her brain to try to remember what he'd looked like, but a sharp pain shot through her. It was as if she was trespassing into a place that was deeply personal, and some kind of defense mechanism was forbidding her from access what she was looking for.
Why though? This was her memory, right? Well, it was the memory of 'Roman Torchwick', but… wasn't she Roman Torchwick?
Wait, no! That was wrong! Her head began to throb as she tried to remember who she was. Fear growing so turbulent within her that she abandoned the thought, returning to the memory playing out before her.
"Is it gonna be okay?" The little boy asked, watching the fire slowly spread along the field. His dad laughed, patting his shoulder reassuringly.
"Oh, it ain't no thing. The soil's damp, and the yield's already harvested. Us grown-ups will have the fire under control well before it gets anywhere dangerous. Heck, in the grand scheme of things, you might'a done him a favor. Burning the plants like this'll enrich the soil for next year."
"Huh, alright." Roman said evenly. He pushed himself up from the ground, brushing off his knees before turning away from the man and beginning to walk away. "Guess I'll see you at home, then."
"Nooooot so fast there, buddy-boy." The shadow imitating his father clicked his tongue, reaching out a hand and gripping the back of his collar. Roman sighed and rolled his eyes.
"What? You said it was fine." The boy protested. His father laughed. It was a kind, gentle sound. Reflecting a soul without an ounce of malice in it.
"It is fine, but you still just crashed a darn plane into your neighbor's field! You know the rules: if we do wrong by someone, we apologize." He released his son's collar and instead rested his hand on his shoulder, walking beside him. "Come on, we'll go do it together."
The two of them began to walk away, watching as the other adults in the town began to run toward the growing fire. Torchwick's dad took a deep breath, looking back at the wreckage of the aircraft once again.
"Seriously, though. I can't believe you got that hunk'a scrap into the air." He gave a soft chuckle and scratched the back of his head. "That's definitely something else you got from your Mom."
"Heh, disappointed that I didn't get anything from you, old man?" Roman snickered in reply, narrowing his eyes and grinning mischievously. "Sorry. Mom's cool. You're kinda lame."
His father furrowed his brow thoughtfully, responding to the provocation by setting his hand atop the boy's head and tussling his hair roughly.
"You're such a mean little guy!" He said playfully. "You're wrong, too. I'll thank you to know: you have my hair, you have my gender, and you have my soft heart. I'd say I contributed plenty, thank you very much… even if everything else came from your mom."
"My heart ain't soft, old man." Came Roman's flat reply, and he narrowed his eyes even further. This elicited nothing but an apologetic shrug from his father.
"
Okay, okay, I'm sorry. So tell me, my stone-hearted son, why are you off having aerial adventures by yourself on such a beautiful day? Call me old fashioned, but I remember a time when kids played outside together."
Roman frowned and looked away, kicking the ground a bit as he walked. He had a long history of not getting along with other kids. In the best case scenario he would simply be shunned, or grow bored of what they were doing and distance himself. In the worst case scenario he would end up getting into a fight. The worst case scenario was much more common.
"Other kids suck." He said, closing his eyes and forcing a smug expression onto his face. "They can't keep up with my genius."
"I see. That's quite a pickle." His dad replied sardonically, scratching his chin. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and looked down at the boy. "Even if you're right though, it's the same result in the end. Aren't you lonely?"
"...No. Other people would just hold me back." Roman's gaze remained downcast as he puffed out his cheek. He'd just flown! While the other kids were busy hitting each other with sticks. His father softened his expression and shook his head gently.
"Look, you're a smart kid. Maybe a little too smart, but I don't think that means you can just live by yourself. Check it out."
He gestured behind them. Roman turned and saw that the townsfolk who had gathered to quell his fire. A few of the neighboring farmers had gathered around: two had brought shovels they used to dig a trench around the blaze, while the rest passed along buckets of dirt and water they used to smother it out.
"People like to fight, but we always come together when it counts. It's one of our better traits." His father continued. "We aren't really built to exist alone. Especially not a sensitive guy like you."
Roman stopped, his deep green eyes thoughtfully watching the group frantically run about. After a moment he turned around and resumed his walk. He was always trying to play cool, but the old man never bought it.
"I ain't sensitive, either!" The boy adamantly corrected
"All I'm saying is that if you don't get along with one group, try making your own. Didn't you tell me about a haunted house in the old town a while back? Some little girl everyone was afraid of?"
"You mean the ghost girl?" Roman jerked his head in surprise. "I didn't think you believed that."
"Oh, ye of little faith!" Scoffed his father with a sly wink. "We didn't find anything when we got together to search the houses, but I don't think you'd lie to me about something like that. Honestly, if she is out there, I'd rather you found her. The old town is no place for children, and hey, maybe you two could become friends? Being friends with a ghost would be pretty cool, right?"
"Not interested." Roman's refusal was immediate, firm, and flat. The force of it took even his father by surprise, whose mouth hung open for a minute.
"Really? Didn't even consider it! Don't tell me you're still going through your 'girls have cooties' phase."
"Hmph! It's not 'cuz she's a girl." Roman corrected him yet again, an indignant tone in his voice, as if offended that the old man could believe he was so unrefined. "It's 'cuz she's weird."
Once again his father looked upon him in shock, silence falling as he stared. Then he laughed. Not the light chuckle from earlier, but a full, resounding laugh so intense he had to grip his sides as he doubled over.
"And… and you think you're not?" He wheezed, his body shaking as his laughter rendered him incapable of breathing. "Oh my gosh, that's so cute. Son, you're the weirdest person ever! You two'd be perfect for each other. She's probably more lonely than you are. She has no friends, and unlike you, she doesn't even have the worlds best dad and a perfectly adequate mom."
"Y-yeah? Well, that's her problem." Roman blushed furiously as his father strained to take back control of his laughter. He halted his advance in a huff, turning away from the man and crossing his arms.
"So you say!" His dad replied in a sing-song tone. He took a few deep breaths, regaining enough of his composure that he could finally stand straight again. Every so often his chest would still spasm with a suppressed laugh, but he was much calmer now. "...But you and I both know that you're going to go check on her now. You made up your mind as soon as I mentioned how lonely she was."
He rested his elbows on his son's shoulders, leaning over his body until his head hung upside down before the boy, their eyes meeting.
"Because, like I said, you inherited my big, soft heart."
"Oh my god." Roman grumbled, cradling his forehead in his palm as he let out an exasperated groan. "No, I didn't, and no I'm not. I'm really not."
"Uh-huh. When you find out how she's doing make sure she's eating right. Don't be afraid to take her home with you." His father stood again, resuming walking as if the whole matter was settled. "Just something to think about. It's a lot easier to be a lone wolf when you have someone to be alone with."
"That's, uh… that's really wise, old man." Roman didn't bother to argue any more, it was clear his father wouldn't listen. He knew that the old man was wrong, though. He wasn't such a soft-hearted fool that he would run off to talk to some creepy girl just because his dad made him worry about her.
The scene began to fade back into blackness, as abruptly as the first, leaving Weiss feeling bittersweet. Jacques Schnee- the arrogant, pitiless man who cared about nothing except status and tried to control his children. That shadowy figure- warm and kind, who thoughtfully tried to guide his son. They were about as different as it was possible for two humans to be, yet she remembered both as her father. The contradiction made her head throb, reminding her (yet again) that there was some important thing she was forgetting.
Oh, that's right! For just a split second she became lucid again. She had been fighting. She had been falling. These memories weren't all hers, were they? She wasn't alone.
She wasn't alone…
The thought was tinged with melancholy, causing that dark, cold manor to reappear around her. She returned to the position of nine-year-old Weiss Schnee, curled up on the floor in a dark bedroom, sobbing. A few hours had passed since she'd been locked inside, alone and confused about what she'd done or what she could do to make it better.
Most of the gala had come and gone, with no one bothering to check on her. By now her eyes were red and puffy, and her chest hurt a little bit from the sobs wracking her lungs. Of course no one came… who would? She'd been bad. She should have listened.
Her stomach gurgled. Now that she'd had a few hours to calm down, she realized she'd been pulled out of the party before she had the chance to eat. She groggily crawled up to her bed and sat down, staring at the door. Her father probably wouldn't care that she was hungry. Mother probably wouldn't either, for that matter, but someone would notice eventually. Everyone couldn't have forgotten about her, right?
As if reading her mind, she heard the sound of a key slipping into a lock, and watched as her doorknob turned. It wasn't her mother who stepped through the door, though, and it certainly wasn't her father.
"Klein slipped me the key. I can't stay long, but I wanted to check on you." Winter Schnee looked a lot like Weiss- long silver hair, pointed features, and cool blue eyes- but unlike her little sister she was already well into her teens. She stepped into the room and closed the door, turning the knob as she closed it in an effort to make as little noise as possible. Weiss had already begun to run toward her before she'd even finished the act, though, and as the older girl turned around her little sister jumped against her, embracing her tightly.
"Sis!" Weiss cried, loudly enough that it probably more than canceled out Winter's attempt to be stealthy. Weiss had thought she had run out of tears by now, but found them flowing once again as she buried her face in Winter's stomach. "I'm so sorry I embarrassed you. Father told me to stay quiet. He told me! I should have listened."
"H-hey, now." Winter stumbled over her words a little, returning her sister's embrace for a moment before gripping her shoulders and gently prodding her to step back. "You've done no such thing, now compose yourself… a lady should endeavor to always control her emotions. How are you feeling?"
The child didn't answer, but did her best to follow her sister's guidance, wiping her eyes against the teenager's cloak before stepping back and looking up at her with bloodshot eyes. Weiss' face was visibly streaked by tears, and it clearly took all the self control at her disposal to prevent her lower lip from trembling.
"I see..." Winter's expression darkened, and a glint of sadness reflected in her eyes. "Father can be imposing when he wants to be. I'm sorry you received the brunt of his fury today, Weiss. You didn't deserve it. When I was young, I would craft a place inside my mind, and whenever he would turn his temper toward me, I'd hide away inside it."
"He yelled at you too?" Weiss couldn't contain her shock. The notion of Winter doing anything wrong beggared her belief. Forget misbehaving, she wasn't even sure she could picture her older sister failing at something! "But you're perfect!"
This drew a wistful laugh from her sister, who shook her head gently.
"I have… my own battle with Father. Enough about that, though." She unfastened her cloak and reached inside. Beneath the cloak, she was wearing a frilled white blouse and a black satin skirt that extended to her calves. Such formal wear implied she had come here directly from the party.
Winter fumbled within her clothing for a moment, producing a series of small packages carefully wrapped in tinfoil, which she pressed into her sister's arms. Even through the covering, the sweet smell of cooked meat and spices tickled Weiss' nose, reminding her of how famished she was.
"I asked the servants to prepare it; I had a feeling you might be hungry. You didn't get the chance to eat before it happened, right?"
Weiss gave an affirmative nod, but otherwise was completely distracted by the food she'd been given, scampering over to her bedside table to lay everything out. Her big sister was so cool! For just a moment, the trauma of earlier that evening was completely forgotten. Winter watched Weiss with a contented smile for a few seconds, then slowly turned to leave.
"Stay strong, Weiss. You only have to endure him until you're old enough to escape." Winter's voice was low and somber, and she took a deep breath as she opened the door again. As an adult, Weiss understood this aura of determined sadness. This was probably around the time her sister finally decided to join the military… a decision that irreparably damaged what relationship she'd had with her father.
As a child, Winter's words only served to chill her. They made her think about a day when her big sister would leave their home, and she would truly be alone there. The thought distressed her so greatly she almost started crying again.
The image began to change once again, shifting and warping as Weiss' subconscious decided to jerk her into still another time and place.
Loneliness, connection, smuggled food… Yes, it was a lot like that time, wasn't it? The scene around her melted away. Up to now everything would fade to black first, but this time it was instantaneous. She watched her home change slowly, transmogrifying into a row of decrepit houses that ran the length of an overgrown, unpaved road.
The old town... the abandoned outskirts of Roman Torchwick's hometown, which had fallen into disuse in the years following the Great War. After peace was restored, a healthy chunk of the population abandoned the hard life of a farmer for the ever-expanding technology and factory jobs in bigger cities, leaving their old homes behind to rot.
These buildings, unused for decades, had fallen into disrepair, and the townsfolk who remained never ventured there. As a result, wilderness had begun to reclaim the land, and sometimes a stray Grimm would come sniffing about, enticed by the lingering regret and despair that remained.
The adults forbade their children to play there, for it was a dangerous place. Of course, when you tell kids not to go somewhere because it's scary and exciting, you invite mischief, and groups of the local youth frequently ventured out to explore the old town. That was how the rumors of the ghost girl began.
The kids had been playing hide and seek in the old town square, back in the spring of that year, when one of the local boys saw her: a young girl with sunken eyes, staring out at them from the window of one of the abandoned homes. Sightings multiplied after that. Some saying they saw her in the shadows, or approaching them in silence, or that they caught a glimpse of her rummaging through their garbage at night.
They told their parents, and a few weeks later the adults of the town organized a search party and swept the entirety of old town, but found no trace of her. That was when the kids decided she must be a ghost! The soul of a girl who died in the war, haunting her childhood home. The rumors did finally spook them enough that they stopped playing out there, which their parents appreciated, but that was the furthest anyone considered the issue.
Of course, Roman wasn't exactly a social butterfly, so he was never part of the playgroups that headed out to the old town. He'd never seen the ghost girl himself, and had actually long ago dismissed her as a stupid urban legend. After all, who'd ever heard of a ghost who had to dig through garbage? Was she a cat ghost? A raccoon ghost?
Still, his dad's words stuck with him, and the morning after his crash he found himself wandering.
"This is so stupid." He muttered with a frown. Why did his dad suddenly believe in a playground rumor? Over the course of the next couple hours he searched each of the houses in turn, finding nothing except a few rats and more bugs than he honestly ever wanted to see in a lifetime.
When he was finished, he started to head back up the road that lead to the farmsteads. His old man had sent him on a wild goose chase, and Roman was in the process of deciding exactly how he wanted to mock him for it, when a hidden trail caught his eye.
The grass behind the buildings was tall and ominous, as befits backyards that hadn't seen any sort of maintenance since long before he was born. However, the gentle breeze caused the foliage to stir, revealing that in the center of the clearing the grass was bent and parted. A natural path formed by someone or something traveling through it repeatedly.
Probably a deer or something. The thought felt rational, and honestly he was getting tired, but despite himself he approached the path, and began to push his way through the tall grass. Stalks of grass and crawling bugs poked at his body as he moved, making him instantly regret his decision, but he pressed on regardless. After a few minutes of sliding through the vegetation like some kind of jungle explorer, the grass began to shrink away, and he found himself stepping into a vast expanse of barren dirt. That was when he saw her.
The ghost girl.
She was laying on her stomach in the dirt, resting her cheek on the palm of her left hand and absently kicking her feet in the air behind her. She was so scrawny that Roman could see the contours of her skull through her pale skin, and the patchwork dress she wore hung on her gaunt frame as if she were a skeleton. Her brown hair was a shoulder-length mess of knots and dirt that was frayed and split at the ends. She looked younger than he was, but not by much, probably ten or eleven.
Roman's footsteps alerted her as he approached, and she looked up in shock as he popped out of the grass. Her body tensed when she first realized he was a person, and a fearful expression started to form on her face, but when she realized it was another kid she relaxed a bit, her fear turning into confusion.
"Uh, hi!" Roman fidgeted a bit, raising a hand in greeting and offering a forced smile. He hadn't actually expected to run into anyone, so he didn't have a script prepared for this encounter. "You're, uh, you're not a ghost, are you?"
The question did nothing to erase the confusion plastered on the girl's face, and she raised an eyebrow at him, slowly shaking her head. Inwardly, Roman winced at himself. Obviously she wasn't a ghost! An orphan maybe? She wandered into town and started squatting in one of the abandoned houses here?
"Right, that was stupid, I'm sorry." He forced a laugh, slowly walking toward her. When he finally closed the distance he could see that she had a magnifying glass in her right hand, and had been lying in front of an anthill- presumably using the power of the life-giving sun to roast the little bastards. Roman wasn't gonna judge. If you're going to live by yourself in an abandoned house, you're probably going to have to make your own fun.
He pointed to the ground beside her.
"You, uh, mind if I sit here?" Honestly, he felt bad enough approaching her without asking. She seemed skittish and uncomfortable around people, and he was technically invading her personal space. Still, she was a bit uncertain of him, but didn't appear to be actively unhappy he was there. She wiggled her nose as she pondered his question for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders.
"Thanks..." He sat in the dirt a couple feet away from her and looked over at her awkwardly. She was certainly… taciturn. "Are you here alone? No mom or dad?"
A slow head shake. Roman hesitated a moment.
"...Are they dead?"
The little girl's brown eyes stared firmly out in the distance, a frown growing on her lips. She paused for a second before finally returning her gaze to Roman, and solemnly shaking her head.
"O-oh… that's even worse." Roman bowed his head apologetically, realizing he was probably being a bit too personal. In fairness, though, he'd never interviewed a mute ghost before. He looked her over again, shuddering at her emaciated state. If her parents were alive, and she hadn't returned to them even after wasting away like this, then they must have been horrible.
How much longer would she be able to survive if things stayed this way? Even if she didn't starve to death, winter was right around the corner, and the climate here could be merciless. He had to help her somehow, bu-
Wait…
….Wait a minute…
"I don't think you'd lie to me about something like that."
"When you find out how she's doing make sure she's eating right. Don't be afraid to take her home with you."
"She has no friends, and unlike you, she doesn't even have the worlds best dad and a perfectly adequate mom."
Ugh, now he understood. His dad knew from the start that the 'ghost girl' was probably an orphan. He figured that she was hiding from adults on purpose, and the other kids were too scared to approach her. So he told Roman about her condition, figuring that once he realized she was a scared, lonely girl, he'd feel bad and come looking for her.
...which wasn't what happened, of course. Roman was here to satisfy idle curiosity and nothing more. His heart, you must understand, was not remotely soft.
"That crafty old bastard..." Roman muttered under his breath. Seeing that he'd said it loudly enough to earn a curious head-turn from the girl, he cleared his throat and continued with, "Oh, uh, I was just thinking. You've probably had a hard time with adults, huh?"
She looked away again, and another, deeper frown crossing her lips, but she finally gave a hesitant nod.
"I'm sorry. Adults suck." Roman said softly, reaching out to pat her back without thinking. He could feel the outline of each individual bone of her rib cage. "Kids suck, too. You can rest easy, though. You aren't dealing with adults or kids anymore. You got me."
Her frown vanished, but she cocked her head at him, raising a brow. Roman knew her question even without a voice.
"Oh, there ain't no one in the world like me. I stand alone." He declared proudly, brushing his bangs from his eyes and looking away dramatically in a manner that didn't quite look as cool as he believed it did. He reached into his jacket and pulled something out. "My name is Roman, and I'm destined for greatness. Nice to meetcha."
He extended the item he'd procured from his coat. When he realized she might be hungry, he decided to bring some sandwiches along. That, too, was a gesture of his idle curiosity, not his concern. He wanted to see if ghosts could eat, was all.
The girl pursed her lips as her eyes fell on the wrapped food, leaning her head out and sniffing it like a dog until, realizing that he was handing her something edible, she gasped in excitement. She dropped the magnifying glass she was holding and her hand darted out, snatching the package from Roman and tearing the cloth wrapping apart as deftly as her thin, bony fingers could manage. She began to rip the sandwiches to pieces, one after another, and cram the fragments into her mouth.
He watched her with a nervous smile. It was the most feral thing he'd ever seen, but it was cute in its own way.
"I made 'em, so I can't say as to whether they're any good." He admitted sheepishly. "But, I mean, you've been eating garbage up to now, right? Compared to that, these should be… about the same as what you're used to."
She continued to dig into the food until it had all disappeared, resorting to licking the cloth he'd wrapped it in once she'd finished. When she was done she looked up at him and gave him a grateful nod, her face showing no expression, but her eyes now regarding him quite a bit more warmly. Her body language had more energy behind it now, too, which he figured was a good sign.
"Well, hey, I'll take the praise! Guess I can add this to the ever-growing list of things I'm incredible at." He said with a laugh, he looked down at the magnifying glass she'd been holding. "Is that what you do all day? Just… cook bugs? Where'd you get that thing, anyway?"
The girl hoisted herself up into a sitting position while he spoke, her eyes falling on the tool as he questioned her. When he finished, she didn't do anything to signify an answer, instead picking up the magnifying glass and holding it out to him, her mouth stretching into a toothy, sadistic grin.
His bright green eyes flashed as he returned her smile, accepting her offer with a playful laugh.
"Hell yeah! Let's burn some ants!"
They talked for a long time after that. Well, he talked, but it felt like a full conversation, all the same. The girl grew more comfortable with him quickly, and seemed to enjoy his melodramatic confidence. Before he realized it, the morning had gone, and taken the afternoon with it.
"… So I wanted to fly off. Somewhere far away." The two of them had pressed down the grass nearby, and were laying down on it like a mattress, staring up at the sky as the sun began to set. "It doesn't really matter what I do when I get there. Maybe I'll be a huntsman, or a soldier like my mom. All's I care about is that I'll be free."
The little girl's smile wavered at his mention of flying away, and she leaned over to give him a questioning look. Her reaction brought a light blush to his cheeks as he looked away. It felt weird to think someone would miss him if he left.
"O-oh, don't worry, the plan's changed for now. I think I'll be stickin' around here for a little. A year or two, maybe. Got the rest of my life to have adventures." The girl exhaled, clearly relieved by his answer. Honestly, he wanted to head out right away, and just invite her to come with him… but she was in no condition to play runaway with him, and he couldn't bring himself to abandon her if she was going to be that sad about it. He'd just have to-
Oh gods damn it…
"why are you off having aerial adventures by yourself on such a beautiful day? Call me old fashioned, but I remember a time when kids played outside together."
Roman had thought it was weird that his dad hadn't pressed him to answer why he was flying. The old man already knew he was thinking about running away, figured it was boredom born of loneliness, and nudged him to do this so he'd make a friend.
It was a win-win for his dad. He manages to save an orphan from starving or freezing to death, and helps his son be less grumpy.
"Ugh! That crafty old double-bastard!" He groaned as he finally forced himself up to his feet. His new friend eyed him curiously, so he shook his head.
"Just thinking out loud. It's going to be dark soon, and it's cold out here. What say you crash at my house? It's a lot warmer than where you've been sleeping, and my mom's much better at the whole food thing than I am."
She listened intently, but cringed a bit at the mention of his mom. Ah, right, her trauma with adults must have been stronger than he realized. Of course it was! She was willing to starve to death rather than let the town's grown-ups find her.
He extended a hand toward her, and smiled warmly. This expression was much more genuine than the smile he'd given her when they first met, and her eyes grew wide as she looked up at him. He hated letting his dad be right about something, but this was bigger than teenage rebellion. Roman had the power to help her, so he was going to help her.
"You don't have to be scared anymore. You got Roman with you now! No matter what happens or where we end up, I'll protect you. I promise."
The girl's eyes grew thoughtful, tears welling for a moment before she gave him a resolute nod and hesitantly extended her arm, pressing her hand into his. He gripped it and pulled her up onto her feet gently.
"Y'know, I just realized, I never asked for your name..."
Pain burst in Weiss' head like a thunderclap, dismissing the memories she was experiencing. Everything was wrong! The memories were similar, but so different, and she could feel her mind tearing as she tried to remember who she was. Memories ceased to play out in a linear fashion, instead bombarding her simultaneously like a crushing ocean of thoughts and feelings. She began to panic, but calmed herself as a sudden realization hit her.
That's right… I'm Weiss…
She began to laugh as warm relief pushed away the fear and pain she'd been experiencing, and the memories began to cease their assault. How could she have forgotten? The flight from home. The talking Grimm. Her partnership with an enemy she thought she'd hated. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling the images around her vanish into blackness, which in turn transformed into a radiant light.
She was observing the memories of two people! Now that she realized that, she felt a strange happiness when she thought about what she'd witnessed. Torchwick would be mortified to know what she'd seen, but she felt like she understood him so much better now.
Standing in this bright light, she observed two final memories, one belonging to Weiss Schnee, and the other to Roman Torchwick.
'I'm so glad I met all of you...'
Her final glimpse of her own past came in the form of her old team- Ruby, Blake, and Yang. The four of them were seated around a table together, talking about nothing. Ruby said something careless, for which Weiss scolded her, but in the end everyone laughed. A scene that was a microcosm of the happiest days of her life.
Weiss Schnee was once a child who was terrified to think she would grow up to become a monster, like her father. Then she experienced the warmth of the world firsthand, and became a hero, instead.
Now, for the first time in half a lifetime, she wasn't alone- and the thought thrilled her.
On the other hand...
'How am I supposed to endure living in this rotten world without you!?'
Her final glimpse of Roman Torchwick took her to the exterior of an airship at night. She saw Ruby leap up suddenly, and saw Neo's parasol catch the turbulent wind, pulling her into the vortex around them. Through Torchwick's helpless eyes she watched, feeling the despair that gripped him as he realized what he'd done. He'd broken his promise, and now he was alone.
Roman Torchwick was once a child who was thrilled to think he would grow up to become a hero, like his mother. Then he experienced the cruelty of the world firsthand, and became a monster, instead.
Now, for the first time in half a lifetime, he was alone- and the thought terrified him.
Weiss tried to parse her feelings about these contradictory images, but there was no time. By the time she finally realized she was 'Weiss', she was already starting to wake up.