So I Wouldn't Have To

Mirror and Image

Breaking Oscar

What… what happened? The bone deep ache of a broken aura… feeling weightless...

Oscar…

Oz?

Don't panic. We're going to be okay.

"... What?"

Oscar opened his eyes, realizing his feet were hanging over open air. Everything was shades of red and there was a low thumping he couldn't identify and he was hanging over open air. Oscar pumped his legs, felt himself swing, looked around, trying to understand-

There, in the shadows. The greatest of horrors.

"My long lost Ozma," Salem said, stepping into the light, a smooth, gentle smile on her face. Oscar felt terror like he'd never known jolt down his back, his body freezing in place and his eyes blowing open. Oz, too, was reacting to seeing her, but it was much more tightly controlled. Oscar pressed against it, trying to control his own fear. He had the sensation of strong hands running up and down his arms, a comforting presence behind him. Don't panic, Oz said again. We're going to be okay.

"Found at last," Salem said, black and red eyes raking up and down Oscar. "So small, this new host of yours. It's a wonder my hound didn't break you." She stepped forward, looking almost through Oscar. He had seen this look many times, from Qrow, from Ironwood - she didn't see Oscar, she saw Ozpin - no, not even Ozpin. She only saw the first one. Ozma. "It's been… how many years since we last saw each other like this?" she asked conversationally. "Face to face. And nothing to say…?"

Oscar could still feel the hands on his arms, the sense of comfort at his back, and he could finally take a breath. He tried to flatten out his gaze, tried to remember how low his voice felt when the old wizard took over, the sound of his vowels and choice of words.

"... I'm sorry the reunion isn't living up to your expectations."

That… sounded right. Ri-

In less than a blink Salem grabbed his face, and the terror he'd managed to contain opened like flood gates, his body stiffening again. Salem leaned in, nothing but dark scowl and hateful eyes, and the pitch of her alto voice dropped.

"You can pretend, boy. But you're not fully him." She turned his face slightly, assessing. "Not yet, at least."

Oscar was too afraid to breath, even the comfort at his back could not quell the terror he felt to see her so close, to know how vulnerable he was. She could end him right here, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Salem sighed, sounded disappointed. "Well," she said letting him go, Oscar swinging slightly from the beast he was hanging from. "Perhaps you and I can have a better working relationship. Oscar, was it?" She started to walk around him, around the Grimm that was holding him in place. "The Beacon relic."

The presence at his back was rubbing his arms again, but Ozpin was silent. Oscar could sense something tense, but it wasn't him. Oscar couldn't focus on it, every instinct told him that staying alive meant watching the witch. "My forces have been unable to locate the relic beneath the school. If I know my Ozma," she added, leaning in, "he has used some means of deception to hide its location differently than the others. I need to know where it is."

Ozpin was silent in his head.

"I…" Oscar started to say. The glut of memories that had cascaded through him when he had unlocked his magic bubbled up, flying through his thoughts, and he realized the truth: "That's not something I know about," he said, looking down.

Salem didn't even flinch. "Of course. He would keep that one guarded as long as possible."

Oscar sighed in relief.

"How about something easier then: the password for the lamp."

Oscar only had a moment to think. He was scared, terrified, but he knew what the right thing to do was.

"... the lamp is all out of questions."

The words came out of his mouth, and time seemed to slow as he watched Salem's face, tried to gauge her reaction. The pause drew out, and Ozpin didn't say anything but there was a tightness at Oscar's arms, a grip turning iron and - all Oscar had time to process was Oz throwing himself in front of him, back to Salem and wrapping him tightly in a shielding hu - pain color burning stop it screaming screaming shaking lightning burning peeling everything hurts!

The light stopped before his screaming did, and his screaming only died because his voice simply ran out, puttering to garbled coughs as his body convulsed in aftershocks. Sweat poured out of his body in reaction to the catastrophe that just happened to him, everything swelling as it tried to manage the yawning cavity of damage that had been done to him. His ears were ringing, he was still swinging over the ground, and dimly he felt another hand running up and down his back.

You did it, Ozpin was saying, a soothing whisper in his ear. You did it, you survived. Now just breath. Breath. There's a way through that will minimize the pain she will bring. I've done it many times. For now just focus on breathing. In and out. Breath.

It was all in his head - Oz wasn't really holding him after… that… but the feeling of being held wasn't going away. It was cool against his overheated body, and he leaned into it again. He wasn't alone. Oz was with him, and that gave him courage.

Something icy touched his face, gentle but not safe, and through the haze Oscar recognized Salem's face, her expression so gentle it triggered what few alarms were left in his brain. "Like minded souls indeed," she was saying, before turning and moving across the space. "One of you is going to tell me what you know. I don't much care if it is you, or Ozma. Either way, I'll finally have the relic."

Oscar mustered what was left of his courage. "... I won't tell you anything…"

Oscar, no, don't say that out loud. Staying silent is how you stay safe and -

Salem looked at him, smirked with a soft, "Hm."

The… door…? opened and a big, burly figure stepped from the shadows.

"... Hazel?" Oscar felt a new tendril of fear - he remembered what happened at Haven, how violent the man was when he was fighting and how much he hated Oz. "Wait…" Oscar said, lifting his hands in a weak attempt at defense. "Wait…!"

Hazel batted his hand away with no effort and gut punched him, right in the center of his dwindling pain and it all flared up again, the punch lifting him off of the hound's teeth and sending him to the floor. It felt like the air had been ripped out of his lungs, and he coughed to try and bring it back. His core had never hurt so much, and he didn't have the strength to do anything.

"That was for Haven Academy," Hazel coldly informed him. Oscar was still struggling to sit up, his limbs were shaking and Oz was at his back again, only then he was in front, shielding him invisibly. It was sophistry, however, as Hazel lifted a steel-toed boot and kicked - again at Oscar's core, leaving him rolling back and pushing for air again. "Everything that follows? Will be for my sister."

Breath Oscar, remember to breath.

"Wh-what…"

The boot filled his field of vision and Oscar couldn't flinch fast enough. It collided with his face, right in his eye, and he rolled over again. His body was having trouble distinguishing the sensations - there was Hazel raining down his hatred, but there was Ozpin who seemed to somehow be wandering over his body, pressed against him before Hazel delivered his blow, and all of this frizzled with all the pain. Ozpin kept telling him to breathe but Oscar wasn't even sure his lungs were working.

Hazel picked up Oscar and threw him across the room. "This is all for Ozpin," he growled. "Stop letting him hurt you like this."

"He's… he's not the one hurting me," Oscar said, trying to move his limbs.

"Yes, he is," Hazel countered, reaching down and picking him up again. "The minute he picked you he brought all the blood with him. Salem told me about him - he's a soul eater, eating you alive while you let him - a human Chill. And that's not even including what his academies do to people. You don't deserve this boy. Tell him to come out and let him face his consequences."

Oscar, he's not wrong, Ozpin said. Currently there was a soft hand running along his temple, just shy of where Hazel had kicked him. I deserve this pain infinitely more than you. Please let me take over. It's only appropriate.

"No," Oscar said, shaking his head. He wasn't sure who he was answering, but he knew: if Oz came out Salem would be back, and neither of them wanted that. "No one deserves this."

"But that's what Ozpin does," Hazel said, shaking Oscar. "He lies to children like you, makes you think things will change, makes you think you can change things, and you can't!"

"But we can," Oscar said, and he saw Hazel's entire frame shake, felt it through the grip on his shirt, and he threw Oscar to the ground, pounding his boot into Oscar's over-raw chest. He lost his air again, eyes rolling and greying out as he tried to breath. The warm hands were on his chest now, soft, soothing circles. The pain faded.

Hazel glared down at him. Oscar barely had time to blink before the boot was kicking into his ribs again. Once more, Oz seemed to be in front of him to take the hit. Oscar let out a wheezing cough.

"Stop making me do this," Hazel grunted. "Come out and face what you deserve you coward!"

Oscar please…

"No," Oscar wheezed. "I won't let him out."

Hazel glared down at him, teeth bared, fists shaking. "Why?" he demanded.

"... because it's still my body," Oscar said, able to breathe slightly. "He won't… he won't come out until I give consent."

Only once had Ozpin ever violated that consent. Only once had he forced his way through - and that had been at Haven, when Oscar first met Hazel. The violation had been horrifying, and feeling Oz's guilt after the fact was somehow even worse. He had resented Ozpin for what he'd done, and soon after Oscar and the others had completely broken him, sending him away. Ozpin had apologized for even that and now… now with him back…

Oscar could feel Oz like he never did before. He knew Oz would put a hand on his shoulder when they traded places, but he had never felt Ozpin constantly touching him, holding him, soothing him like he was now. The distance between them had shrunk again, but with it came more understanding - he knew without being told, that Ozpin would not take over with Oscar's say so again.

No, Oscar, I promise I won't. But please, let me do so. Let me spare you this, you don't deserve-

"Come out!"

"No," Oscar said, minutely shaking his head.

Hazel roared in rage and raised both fists in the air and shoved them down with force, right into Oscar's ribs. He was certain they would break, but Oz again braced in front of him, metaphorically taking the hit first but to no avail. Like a piledriver Hazel landed the blow to Oscar's chest. He lost all air again, and his entire body compacted around the blow, leaving him a sputtering mess, rolling to the side as saliva dripped out of his mouth.

Scoffing, Hazel stepped back. "Any more and you'll pass out. I want him awake and watching to understand everything he's ever done."

Oscar couldn't say anything. He just kept wheezing. But he wondered. Hazel was strong. Unusually strong even without a strength based semblance. And while every punch, and kick, and hit and blow hurt terribly, what Salem had done was worse. Hazel had the strength to break him at least eight ways, so why didn't he?

Ozpin was rubbing at the pain again, and whispering softly about focusing on breathing. Oscar tried to. He just hurt all over, he could feel his eye swelling, his ribs hurt as badly as when Ironwood had shot him…. But the feeling of fire along his nerves from Salem was the worst.

I know, Oz said softly. Just breath. You've been given a moment to breath, take the time to rest. Let your aura replenish itself. Ideally, they'd give us something to eat, but I doubt you could keep it down.

Oscar felt tears in his eyes. "How long…." he murmured. How long would he be confined like this? Where were Yang, Jaune, Ren? Had they been captured as well?

No. She would hold that over us if she did. The gentle unseen hands touched at his eye and felt cool to the hot swelling. I have no doubt that they will mount a rescue, but the question is if they can find us. And how long until they do.

Oscar let out a rough cough. "They will," he rasped.

He sensed Ozpin nodding somehow, and the pain in his body started to lessen. The quiet settled over him, and he started to realize he really was alone, safe(ish), and his body started to relax. Air started to come to him, and he tried to make himself think again.

You're doing just fine, Oscar, Ozpin said. You've been incredible in surviving up to now. An invisible hand ran through his hair, moving nothing but somehow soft and gentle. No one can be expected to endure this, but you've survived, and that's a testament to you. Breathe for now, and let me take over for a moment. I can handle it from here.

Oscar knew what that meant in a way he hadn't before Oz's return. Oz would take over and not give control back, try to block Oscar from even feeling the pain. Oscar didn't want that, shook his head.

Oscar, you need to rest.

"I… am… resting," he said, ending with a wet cough and a sniffle.

Oh, Oscar, Ozpin said. You should not be taking this for me. Not when you've done nothing to deserve this. Not when you're innocent of my sins. Not when he's mad at me and not you. Let me take it so you don't have to.

"No…"

He couldn't hear it but he could sense a sigh, and the cool hand moved down to his face, stroking his cheek.

You have nothing to prove, Oscar. You've done more than anyone could dare to hope.

Oscar shook his head. "I've… barely done… anything," he wheezed. "I failed. The General…"

No Oscar, Ozpin said, still stroking his cheek. The failure isn't yours. It's mine. I should have been there, guiding you, telling you how to break through to James. Instead I hid away, too weak to face the mistakes I've made, the hearts I've broken. All of you had every right to shame me in the snow for what I did, the secrets I held. For all my faith in humanity, I could not trust them with the truth.

"But… you can't tell everybody," Oscar said, still struggling to breath. He looked down at his gloved hands. "Ruby… she didn't tell him everything, and we agreed to wait. Then… when I did…" He could still remember the wide eyed shock, the way the hand covered his mouth and he turned away.

"No more surprises, all right? I don't know if I could take it."

"I think I broke him," he confessed. "I think that's why he decided to sacrifice Remnant."

Ozpin's presence pressed along his back, wrapping around him in a warm hug.

'... and thus the boy learned, that which does not bend, must break.'

Oscar blinked, the very act hurting. "The Steel and the Sapling, right?"

James hated that fairy tale, Ozpin said, voice almost at Oscar's ear. He thought trees had little to teach us. Glynda would tease him that that was because he was from Solitas. The tundra wasn't exactly an environment for him to realize the value of trees. The point is that there was no way to tell him the truth without him treating it like a war. I should never have brought him in in the first place. My mistake has caused you pain again. And again, this is my burden to bear.

A natural silence fell between them.

Oscar couldn't exactly say he fell asleep. He was in pain, after all, but he did… sort of… drift. All he could feel was the constant ache and Ozpin, wrapped around him in a protective hug. Breathing was still a problem, and he slowly turned inward to figure out what was wrong. A hand pressed against his chest, the white cotton of his shirt and waistcoat now black, the softness gone for marred stiffness. His chest wasn't rattling, like when he was sick; he could breathe in fully, but as soon as his chest filled he was compelled to cough. Shallow breathing was serviceable, but it hurt his ribs - that at least, he understood: Hazel.

Was it the magic…? The mere memory of the pain shivered over him and he tried to curl into himself. Ozpin placed an invisible hand on his back, silently reminding him to breath, but Oscar had found a puzzle.

"Why doesn't it hurt?" he asked. "My chest…"

You're in quite a bit of pain, Oz replied, not quite confused. I'm not sure what you mean.

"I mean… All that light. All that burning. I think I was coughing color, but now…"

Ah, Ozpin said. Magic, as you know, is a static, finite resource. That means more than simple storage. It is also finite in terms of release - it dissipates quickly into the air and dissolves into the surrounding atmosphere. If it could be pulled from the very air itself it would have been discovered ages ago. The energy expended on you is long gone.

That… almost made sense, but… "That's not all of it," he said.

No it isn't, was the reply. I am also pulling some of your pain to me.

… What?

I am drawing your pain to me, Oz repeated. I am taking as much pain as I can so you don't have to. I'd like to express - again - that this is my burden to bear. Not yours. His grudge is with me.

Oscar's body flooded with adrenaline as he realized what Oz was doing, and his breath caught in his throat, making him cough. Oz was…! Even after…! On top of that he wanted to face Hazel - just so he could prevent Oscar from feeling more pain. The boy shook his head, struggling to sit up.

"No," he said, "it'll be even worse. He's holding back with me… I can tell." He wiped his nose, trying to clear his airways. He didn't want Ozpin to go through that. It was bad enough he had to go through that - but he knew without being told that Ozpin had been captured before, been tortured before, more than once. That he was willingly choosing to go through it again… he couldn't do that. Couldn't let Oz openly choose to be tortured again, and his words had a slightly desperate tinge to them.

I understand, Oz replied, I do. But you've done so much already. The least I can do is give you a break, and try to get us out of here.

That didn't sit well with Oscar for several reasons. Unarmed, Ozpin would undoubtedly use magic to break them out and… no. Moreover... Hazel… he didn't want to hurt Oscar. Well, he didn't mind it, but he wasn't Hazel's primary target. The regret didn't stop him, but the way he kept demanding Oz - not just for Salem but deliberately framing it as protecting Oscar… A spark of an idea was starting to bloom in his mind.

"We can't leave yet," he said. "This is our chance."

Ozpin was at his side, and an arm wrapped around his back. Hnn. Maybe you've taken one too many hits.

"Salem," Oscar said, thinking it out as he talked, "she knows she can't take on the whole world at once, so she doesn't. She has her followers work their way in, sabotaging us from the inside out." Beacon fell because of Cinder's team. Haven almost fell because of Adam and Leonardo's machinations. Atlas was falling apart because of Tyrian and Watts. Salem was all about sowing descent.

"Maybe we should do the same."

They said it at the same time, their thoughts aligned for the first time in months and something deep inside… clicked.

There was a smile at his ear, a soft pat on his back, invisible and intangible. We certainly are similar, you and I. Maybe we have been presented with an opportunity.

The muscular, valve-like, door opened and Hazel stalked back into the room. Another beating.

"Great…" Oscar muttered, not looking forward to the abuse.

Oscar, please…

Hazel grabbed Oscar's chest and lifted him up, We can use my history with Hazel, I know how to talk to him, I've talked to grieving families before, lean on my experience, and slammed Oscar against one of the tooth-like pillars. Oscar resisted, both Hazel and Oz, he didn't want Ozpin to be beaten any more than he was.

"You don't need to fight this war, kid. Tell me what I need, and we can be done."

He saw it, in his eyes. Hazel's...

Oscar.

Yes.

Ozpin put a hand on Oscar's shoulder and switched places, his soul flooded with anticipation as he assumed his partner's form. The pain was more than he had calculated. Their toes curled in their boots but he took all the physical pain and pushed it to a distant corner of his mind, far away from Oscar as he leveled their eyes at the man who had beaten a child.

"Hello. Hazel," he said, keeping his voice calm even as their body started to generate adrenaline in response to his anticipation.

The man needed only a moment to realize the switch, his face filling with rage.

"Coward!" he shouted. "All this time, it could have been you. But you let him suffer." Hazel threw Ozpin across the room, and the flares of pain as injuries were jostled gave Ozpin a better understanding of where all of Oscar's worst concerns were. The ribs had the most to worry about, that he could handle, and he filed the information away. Hazel needed all of his attention. "Now, tell us how this damn lamp works. The boy has suffered enough."

Ozpin got their feet under them, holding the ribs and trying to stand. He needed to meet Hazel at a level.

"Why do you follow her?" he asked, the adrenaline pitching his voice up.

Hazel didn't respond, his rage was still blocking everything out - that was dangerous, not for Ozpin but for Oscar's body. The giant mountain of a man lifted a boot and kicked, Ozpin spinning away and scattering to the floor. The ribs were definitely a problem, and they pressed on Oscar's chest. Still, Ozpin put it away. Hazel needed to be addressed, his pain needed to be acknowledged, and Ozpin's mistakes needed to be admitted. He took a breath, felt their chest constrict.

"I know," he admitted with a cough, "I know how you see me." Child murderer. And it wasn't even an inaccurate descriptor - so many people died trying to follow him, all of them too young, all of them with so much promise. There was so much blood on his hands that he could never deny the accusation. But even still, as terrible as he was… "But her?" he asked. "Look at what she does, how is she the answer? Why not stop her?"

Hazel's eyes were bulging, his teeth grinding and for a moment Ozpin thought the man would do even more violence.

"Salem can't be stopped!" Hazel growled, turning and stomping away. "She's a force of nature. I've seen it first hand. But you…" Hazel broke off an elongated rib-like stalagmite emanating from the floor with ease, turning back to Ozpin. "You send children to their deaths." He sharpened the edge along the bracer on the back of his hand and oh, that bode ill for the next several minutes Ozpin had to talk very fast and, "For a cause that you know has no victory. No end!"

"Someone has to try!" Ozpin countered, on Oscar's knees and trying to straighten again. "Salem isn't a force of nature because Salem can be fought." Nature could not be fought, only lived with, in harmony, because nature was not vindictive; nor was it abusive, nor petty, nor deliberate. No, Salem was not nature, she was human. Humans could be fought. Defeated. Taught. And that made her all the more dangerous. To fight was one thing, but for her... "Unless she brings the relics together. If that happens…"

There would be no fighting. There would be no defeat. There would be only-

"Ozma."

Ozpin stiffened to hear the voice of his former love. He closed himself off completely, shoving all the adrenaline down, repackaging the pain in Oscar's body and putting it even further aside. He would give her nothing.

She didn't care, of course. "You have wonderful timing," she said genially. "The show is about to begin."

What does that mean? Oscar asked.

Nothing good, Ozpin replied.

"Hazel, be a dear and bring him along."

Hazel grabbed Oscar's shoulder, but Ozpin had finally gotten their feet under him, did nothing to react to the iron grip, simply shoved it over to where the other pain was. He walked forward, closer to her, and Hazel made him pause as she bent down, leaning in to study him.

"Nothing to say?" she asked, her voice smooth as it always was.

"You do not want to hear anything I have to say," he replied, holding himself perfectly still, perfectly straight. "And I'd rather spare Oscar the inevitable pain."

"Oh, Ozma," she said, taking a white hand and caressing their face. His entire heart cringed, but still he gave nothing away. "He wouldn't suffer at all if you just told me what I want."

"That is a lie and we all know it," he replied softly, pulling from her soft hand. "He refused to cooperate with you, as I do, and you will exact all your rage on him as soon as you no longer need to keep him - me - healthy enough to talk."

She stared at him, eyes narrowing the tiniest fraction. "You're the one who keeps coming back."

"As I told Hazel, someone has to fight you."

"Really?" she said lightly. "I do wonder when the last time we actually saw each other was. You hide behind your new faces, hide behind your advisors and counselors, send agents and never show yourself. Fight me?" Salem's mouth twitched to a whisper of a laugh. "You sit back and do nothing."

Ozpin refused to give any ground. "Being sliced open and watching you pull my intestines out in a fit of rage over me saying no rather indicates that a direct confrontation may not be the wisest decision." He ignored Hazel suddenly squeezing at their shoulder. "Or perhaps the time you had me and my wife of that lifetime and sliced her throat in front of me? Or the time when my grandson and I were-"

"Enough," she said coldly.

"We have both seen enough. How many spouses of mine over the years have you killed? Parents? Friends?"

"Enough."

"Hazel hates me for killing children," he added, throwing a glance at the mountain of a man who was scowling down at him. "Does he know how many you have slain? How close they were to me? Or how close they were to you?"

Hazel's grip tightened thrice fold, and Ozpin could not put it away fast enough to hide the flinch, nor avoid the small gasp of noise. There was a growl behind him from Hazel, but more importantly he saw Salem's face. She, too, was very good and holding in her reactions, but her eyes gave her away.

Oscar, I'm sorry; I said too much this will-

She grabbed their neck - not their chin, their neck - and leaned in, the dark veins of her face flaring, a low hiss bubbling up from her chest.

"I'm not the one who kidnapped them."

"Is a desperate escape the same as kidnapping? No," Ozpin said, nails digging into the back of Oscar's neck, "But I'm not the one who struck the killing blow, either."

Salem started to shake, her eyes were widening and power was building up in her. Ozpin had hoped to trigger Hazel to ask more, but now he had put himself and Oscar in a far more precarious position: Salem's line of sight. Oscar, I'm sorry… But then the power faded, and she only closed her eyes and smiled, straightening and letting go. She turned, didn't even say anything, leaving Hazel to shove him forward.

"Those deaths are because of you, Ozma.

"You've lived nearly as long as I have," she ignored his point. "I would think you'd want the same thing as me."

Ozpin grit his teeth. There was nothing but hatred and contempt between them now, after eons of their struggle, but when she was like this, she always tried to appeal to him. As if some vestige of Ozma would forgive all the horrors and atrocities she'd committed. As if he could ever be forgiven. But there was one key difference.

"You stopped growing and learning, after his death," Ozpin said stiffly. "Dare I say, even before he died you had started to stagnate. I have not. Nor have any of my predecessors, nor will my future incarnations. With every lifetime, we learn and grow. Everyone does. That's why what you wish is unthinkable."

She looked over her shoulder. "And yet, you keep coming back. And you eventually come back to me."

Ozpin said nothing. He'd said his piece. She was just circling back to old arguments again, so there was no further point in continuing.

Author's Notes: Oh, look. The twins are writing an Oscar Ozpin fic again. Is anyone surprised? Didn't think so.

Not much here but we do have the central conceit of the fic: Oz wasn't always in control during their capture, but he took it so Oscar didn't have to - and we ask, what does that mean? What did it look like? And we went in the literal direction: he took all the pain and kept it to himself so Oscar didn't suffer as much.

Can't really think of much to say; the two of us are so brain dead with school. So many kids are failing no matter what we do and we're inches away from mental breakdowns... Just... god we're tired.

Next chapter: Breaking Hazel.