Broken Ozpin
When Oscar next woke up, he took a deep breath without thinking, and was surprised that he was able to. After all the hits to his ribs, he thought for sure he'd still be aching.
"Oz?" Oscar reached up to rub his eyes and then hissed. His left eye was still bruised, but… He could open it? All the way? That meant the swelling had gone down. And he was just so warm.
A cool, unseen hand brushed against his face. You are running a fever. It's a natural side effect of aura healing.
Oscar blinked, still waking up. "Is… that why you're only letting a trickle of aura work?"
Yes, Ozpin replied, the cool hand running intangibly through his hair. Among other reasons. The amount of damage you've suffered is such that your fever would be dangerously high. A hunter can control it, of course, but I have more than a little experience in doing it under these specific circumstances.
Oscar shifted, aching everywhere, but not feeling like he would pass out. "And the other reasons?"
I'll explain while you eat.
"Uh… eat?" Oscar tried to sit up, then let out a low groan and fell back. More carefully, he rolled to his stomach so that he could push up to his shoulders, and looked around. "Food? She's actually feeding us?"
Emerald brought it in while you slept, I believe.
Moving slowly and carefully, Oscar was able to lever himself up enough to crawl over to the tray of cold soup and half-loaf of bread. Ohhhh how he ached… But he firmly reminded himself that aching was better than pain.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, sipping his soup.
… We are better than before, Ozpin replied. The most severe damage has been either healed, like your ribs, or reduced. You'll likely still limp, as that's not actual damage, but psychosomatic, from Ozma. It will fade with time.
"Really?" he asked, curiosity rising. Oscar shook his head and refocused. "But I still look terrible." The black mess of his chest was still there, with pulling and stretching causing sharper aches. The bruise on his eye was still there and stinging, he could still feel all the cuts and bruises…
Ozpin hugged him close. That's by design, he said softly, so that everyone here will underestimate us. Once our plan has run its course, we will have to escape, and if her agents believe us incapable of movement, well, so much the better.
Oscar closed his eyes as he chewed on the bread. The effort was enormous, and he tired quickly. "We don't have much aura left," he guessed.
… No. There was a lot of damage.
Oscar stared off to nothing, trying to process just how much that statement implied.
I'm sorry, Oscar. I should have started talking to Hazel sooner, spared you so much of this.
"Do you think it worked?" he asked, laying back down. For all his sleep he was exhausted, Ozpin's efforts taking a toll on his body. He hadn't been this tired since Haven. "With Hazel, I mean."
We made a lot of progress, Ozpin said, and the headmaster placed a soft hand on Oscar's back. How much we won't know until he next appears. If the girl Emerald appears with more food, we could try to ply her, but I don't know her as well.
"... I don't, either," Oscar said, closing his eyes. "But she looked so scared."
Anyone would, working under her.
That triggered a thought, and Oscar frowned as he tried to follow it. "You've been captured before, haven't you."
It… wasn't quite a question, Ozpin had admitted as much to both Salem and Hazel; but there was something about the way he had admitted it, the details he shared…
Ozpin didn't reply at first. The soothing hand at Oscar's back and stopped, and Oscar could feel… he wasn't sure what the right word was: memory? On the other side where Oz and the pain was. Fullness entered that part of his mind, a pressure of claustrophobia, and Oscar realized Oz might be somehow adding to the pain. "Oz…?"
All at once it turned off. Sorry, Ozpin said, a little too quickly. Yes, she has captured me before. It is never pleasant. I try to avoid it.
Something dark shook Oscar's heart. "What… what did she do?" he asked, feeling his achy body tense.
Nothing you need to concern yourself with.
"No, Oz. I need to know what's going to happen. I need to know what-"
No, Ozpin said with finality. Please don't ask me to explain that. You already suffer enough by the very nature of me being here, please don't ask me to make it worse by describing what she has done in her anger. You are afraid of her, that will keep you alive. I have survived her, that will keep you alive as well. For now that's all you need to know.
"Oz," Oscar said, opening his eyes again, looked up at the skylight above them and listening to the dull thumping of the massive Grimm's heartbeat. "Oz, that makes it sound even scarier."
That's because it is, Ozpin said, hugging Oscar tightly and nuzzling his hair invisibly. Some trauma - no. You don't deserve any trauma whatsoever. I can't prevent this, but I can spare you what I've already been through.
Oscar rolled over, feeling the ache of his muscles and his fever. He was doing it again, saying or implying that he deserved all of this and Oscar didn't. That horrible admission to Hazel… "You don't either, you know," he said, wincing as some muscle was pulled. "You don't deserve any trauma, either."
Oh, Oscar, Oz responded, and his voice was warm, soft. A hand was running through his hair again, something the professor seemed to like doing. Yes, I do. All of this could have been avoided if I had fully listened to the warnings of the Brothers. I've made too many mistakes, across too many lifetimes, lost too many people to ever be worthy of forgiveness. All I can do now is try and inflict as little pain on those around me as I can - and even then I fail.
That was when it all clicked in Oscar's head; his eyes widened as he finally put a finger on the root of all of Oz's self-hatred. "Is that why you never said anything?" he asked. "In the Infinite Man?" The story of a man who reincarnated, and had a follower across three of those lives, and by the third life… Actually… "Who even wrote that?" he asked.
I did, Ozpin said. I had hoped to help people to understand just how imperfect I was, to see that I do not hold all the answers and never have. Some lives I have so much hope that I can bring about the change that was asked of me, I believe I can do real good in the world. But I am one person, and I will never be enough.
Oscar's eyes watered and he listened, and he rolled to one side as he tried to process it. "Oz…" he started to say, but he paused, trying to find the right words - wondering if the right words even existed. "It's not all failure, you know. Just because you mess up, doesn't mean you can never be forgiven."
Maybe once or twice, Oz conceded, But not to the degree that I have accomplished.
Oscar shook his head. "No, you don't understand," he said. "Oz, you're more than just your failures. You've had successes, too, right? Salem hasn't taken over the world, the relics have never been brought together. That means you've done some actual good, doesn't it? And… look at what Ruby and the others have done. They wouldn't have managed it without your guidance at Beacon, right? Qrow, too."
Qrow is my biggest personal failure. He came to me raw and abused from his tribe; I sought to guide him to a gentler view of the world, but because of his association with me he has known only heartache: the abandonment of his sister, the death of Summer, the betrayal of Raven, losing Fall and Spring, and the devastation of learning how unworthy I am of his devotion. It is as he said that day in the snow. Meeting me was the worst luck of his life.
It hurt to hear it all, to listen to Ozpin outline all of his mistakes without any hint of defense, his voice full of self-recrimination, all of his self-loathing laid to bear. Before he disappeared, Ozpin was always so bright, soft and quick witted, so very empathetic even when he had to press Oscar to do something. Cagey, yes, he admitted more than once he kept some things close to his chest, but given how everyone reacted when they found out… Oscar didn't agree with it but he understood. He understood why Ozpin would be so reticent to tell people the truth.
Ozpin thought himself a terrible person, unworthy of forgiveness, love, even just simple understanding. There were fairy tales - apparently written by Ozpin himself - trying to explain why he did the things he did, how he came to the decisions he made, but the tales couldn't detail all of it. Moreover, those fairy tales were left up to reader interpretation. The Infinite Man was one of a handful of tales that had no recorded moral. He always left it up to the people to decide. The times he openly meddled it was to make impressions softer - not for himself but for others.
"... Professor Lionheart," he said. "... do you forgive him for betraying you?"
Lionheart had done so much in his betrayal: killed so many Hunters, attacked Qrow and everyone else, he was going to hand over the relic to Salem. But in spite of that Ozpin concocted a story that made Lionheart a hero. That day in the snow he talked about letting one mistake ruin a lifetime of work. Was it really about forgiving Leo? Or was it wishing someone would grant him the same kindness?
It's a personal decision, forgiveness, Ozpin replied. You have to know a person so well, so completely; you have to understand why they made the decision they did. You have to know if they suffered for that decision. Leo… he was a gentle soul but frightful. Life as a Faunus had made him constantly afraid of others, and that was a fear that Salem can easily prey on, manipulate, and perpetuate. I do not approve of what he did, and I do not forgive the betrayal itself, but he was a close friend. In the end I don't know if I forgive him. But I can't blame him.
Oscar nodded, the act causing him pain along his neck and shoulders.
"Then… by that logic… I don't blame you either."
Oscar…
"No, don't turn it around," he said. "Self-hatred like yours… it can drive you to do a lot of things. I don't agree with all of it. I don't… I don't forgive all of it… but I don't think I can blame you, either. Not when you've lived through being captured by Salem. Not when you try so hard to do right by people like Qrow. Not when you're trying to spare me…" His voice broke, and his vision blurred.
He shook his head. "You're not a failure," he repeated. "You don't deserve any of this any more than I do."
Ozpin said nothing for a very long moment, Oscar could sense unclouded surprise as it slowly bloomed to unparalleled relief. The cool hand touched his fevered forehead, unimaginably gentle, and there was a fatherly kiss to his forehead.
You should rest now that you've had food, Oscar. Keep letting your aura replenish.
"I'm not exactly looking to go running a marathon right now…."
Ozpin chuckled warmly and Oscar felt a hug along his shoulders squeeze.
"You said you wrote that fairy tale. The Infinite Man. Did you often write fairy tales?"
No. I tended to inspire them, like with the Tale of the Four Seasons. Those I had trusted with my knowledge would share without my approval, and legends were born. I also collected fairy tales. Aside from being an interest of Ozma's, such tales are often hints with a grain of truth. Something for me to investigate to find the Relics and the like.
Somehow, Oscar wasn't surprised. "Which one is your favorite?"
Hmmm. I can't say that I've ever thought about it. Fairy tales were never just stories for me.
"Really? Not even before you inherited?"
As you might imagine, I was too studious as a child. I stopped believing in fairy tales at a very young age. It wasn't until I inherited all this that I started to believe again, and that was with the knowledge of all the previous lifetimes I now remembered.
Oscar chuckled, ignoring how that pulled at his chest and made it ache. "Somehow, I feel like we all grew up with our nose in a book."
Ozpin snorted. That would be a fair assessment, though not foolproof. Before I inherited all this, I enjoyed history. It's why I never really believed in fairy tales. I knew too much of the history around that time and recognized them as folk tales.
"Oh, what a shock," Oscar muttered, his smile pulling at some of the cuts and bruises on his face. "A headmaster and professor was a bookish child who was a fan of history."
It has helped me convince people of more sensible actions when I bring up historically similar instances and how idiocy doesn't work out.
"Careful, that doesn't sound like the gentle professor," he chuckled.
Really? You mean all those years with Qrow by my side has rubbed some level of sarcasm and wit onto me? Or perhaps it was one of my prior incarnations coming forward, Ozpin said dryly.
In that moment, Oscar thought he saw something of what Ozpin would have been like as a teacher and headmaster. Playful, teasing, and gentle guidance. No wonder he inspired loyalty in Qrow and others.
I can't help but wonder, Ozpin said, hugging Oscar close again, tightly using what aura they had to do more healing, what's your favorite fairy tale?
It was hours later, after debates of fairy tales, morals, who wrote the originals, what they were inspired off of, etc, that conversion started to change.
"... 'She brushed off her bumps and bruises, for nothing hurt worse than the loneliness in her chest,' " Oscar said, tired and worn, the worry of Salem and Hazel still hovering at the edge of his mind.
I recognize that. The Girl Who Fell Through the World.
Oscar gave a tired snort. "I shouldn't be surprised you're so familiar with fairy tales." It wasn't a great attempt at sarcasm, but Oscar didn't have much left in him. He was just exhausted, and while he wasn't anywhere near as injured as earlier, thanks to Ozpin's incredibly controlled use of his aura, he still wasn't comfortable. The aches just wouldn't go away. He rolled onto his back.
I've lived through my share of them. Ozpin offered softly, wry smile in his voice. But Oscar's distraction was obvious. An invisible, intangible hand touched his arm, and Oz's voice changed to something much more careful. ...How are you holding up?
The question wasn't directed at his physical well being - both of them knew exactly what was wrong with their body. No, this was directed at Oscar's spirit. At the start of the ordeal he had been so defiant to Salem, and so quick to pick out a plan while they were being tortured, but now… The lull had brought distraction, talk of fairy tales, but that false sense of security could only last for so long, and Oscar was just… so… tired.
Oscar had been reflecting on that fairy tale a great deal after Oz had disappeared. Thinking about how he was finally just himself again, but he was no longer the same as before he left the farm. It has been something to work through, along with coming to terms with his inevitable merger. Seeing how he was before compared to now. And now…
"I thought the idea of falling through Remnant into a new world was… exciting," he said. "I never understood why she was so sad when she finally made it back home." Briefly he thought back to when he was a child reading that story, of always reaching up to the world above once one had fallen through. Even now he reached up as he had years ago, picturing what falling through the world would be like and recognizing that the protagonist would of course be sad. "But now… it makes more sense."
She wasn't the same girl anymore, Ozpin summarized sadly, heavy empathy infused in his voice. The hand on his arm squeezed, and a different hand touched his forehead. It didn't feel as cool now, his fever had probably reduced.
"... Yeah."
Oscar wasn't the same boy, either. He had done so many things, and so many things had been done to him. Life was simple on the farm: feed the animals, tend the crops, irrigation and harvest, all the books he read. But now life wasn't simple. It was life and death, torture and pain, stakes so high that failure wasn't an option but still he failed with James. With keeping Ruby and the others on the same page. With understanding Oz. Everything was just… so sad...
I… think this plan to divide might have run its course, Ozpin said, his voice somewhere between concern and resolution. It's time we start thinking about a way out. Not having our cane certainly limits the options so… he hesitated, not quite finishing the sentence, leaving the option open.
Oscar tried to roll over again, grunting as his body protested. "No," he said. "I don't like what happens when we use magic. Every time we use it…" He could feel it. The distance between them had been shrinking, and when they were falling through the sky, when he finally activated the magic... "I can feel us merging faster."
His vision blurred, and he curled in slightly. "I'm… not ready for that," he confessed.
The soul hands on him shifted, and he felt Ozpin hug him from behind; a soft, safe presence at his back. I don't blame you, he said, voice full of understanding. Then, Honestly I think you're doing just fine on your own. And there was a smile there, an overwhelming sense of pride. It warmed Oscar all the way down.
The valve-door-thing opened, a shadow coming in and standing over him. Oscar rolled to his back to look up, saw Hazel standing over him. Great. Round three.
Hazel reached down and grabbed his shirt, hoisting him to his feet before letting go. Oscar wobbled, arms flaying out to keep his balance as he adjusted to being vertical for the first time in… who knew. His hip ached, and he shifted his weight, remembering what Ozpin said about a psychosomatic… something. Ozpin was further away again, meaning he was handling the pain in some way and keeping it away from him. Once he was on solid footing Hazel grabbed the lapel of his coat and started dragging.
Oscar only handled two steps before his hip gave out and he fell. Hazel didn't say anything, just tsked and grabbed him again, hoisting him up and dragging him out of his cell.
"Wh… where are we going?" Oscar asked.
Hazel didn't answer. Was that bad?
Not necessarily, Ozpin replied. He was always the strong silent type. Obviously he has a goal, and we're not going to her.
How can you tell?
We're going in a different direction.
Oscar nodded and tried to keep his feet under him, his hip making him limp and he became acutely aware of why Ozpin had designed a cane instead of anything else. They moved through the massive Grimm until a different valve opened and - oh! The Lamp!
Why were they here? Did Hazel ask his question? Did he expect Oscar to? Hazel tossed Oscar to the ground.
"Why did you bring me here?" he asked, looking up to the mountain of a man.
"I've been thinking about what you said," Hazel replied. It was the softest his voice had ever been, calm and lacking any sinister air. It was still laced with suspicion, though, and he glared down at them. "If it's a lie: and I took that lie to Salem, the punishment would fall on my head before yours. If what you said is true, and I use the password myself…" He gazed at the relic, "Well, I don't know what happens when this thing activates. So let's see if you're bluffing."
Oscar blinked, realizing what was going on. "You… want me to summon her?"
"Either way," Hazel said, "it'll tell me what I need to know."
It… it worked. It really worked! Oscar got to his feet, his body ached but it didn't consume his thoughts as he realized their gambit had paid off. Oz put a comforting hand on Oscar's shoulder - not a sign of their switching places but a squeeze of pride and accomplishment. As I said, you're doing just fine on your own.
"What are you doing?"
Oscar stiffened, hearing a new voice, and Hazel stepped aside to see the terrified girl from earlier, Emerald. She was the other one Ozpin thought might be pliable, and now here she was, right in front of them. But… she hadn't been turned yet, either. Oscar would have to play this carefully, just because Hazel was as good as on their side now didn't mean he wouldn't switch back if it meant protecting Emerald. He threw his gaze to the man but Hazel simply moved to stand next to her. "Let's find out," he grumbled with a sigh.
Oscar straightened, still holding his side. Ozpin immediately put a hand there, directing a tiny thread of aura.
Oscar took a breath. "Jinn."
There wasn't anything in the room to indicate that time stopped, but Oscar could feel it, faintly, as the bright blue smoke engulfed the area to reveal the spirit of the relic. Jinn stretched only slightly, her very feminine form curving this way and that before she took in the people in front of her. As always, her gaze snapped to Oz.
"Why hello again, old man," she greeted with a warm smile. "Did you have a question for me?"
Oscar smiled back, waving his hello and still glowing slightly in his victory. He turned to Hazel and waited for him to make a decision.
Hazel, in turn, was awestruck. He gaped openly, lips parted, and Oscar and Ozpin both could see the moment when it all became real to him, when all their work paid off and he realized the truth. "Actually," he said, looking down, "I think all my questions are answered now."
Good. But, "... What are you going to do?" Oscar asked.
There was a long beat before Hazel's reply, and the weight to his voice was immense. "What Gretchen would have done," he said, looking down at his hands. The words seemed to solidify his conviction, and he turned to Oscar. "And that starts with getting you away from here. Both of you," he added, turning to Emerald.
It was everything they had both hoped for, and the relief Oscar could feel on Ozpin's side was so intense he had to adjust his footing as he stepped forward. Escape was at hand, escape was at hand! Now all they needed was…
"I'm going to need something before I go," he requested softly, uncertain if he should make the ask but not wanting to leave it behind.
"So…" Oscar turned back to Jinn. "Just to be clear. None of you have a question for me?"
She was so polite.
She always was. I'm rather fond of her.
Oscar shook his head and returned the respect. "No," he said, clasping his hands together, "but we'll be bringing you with us." Then Salem wouldn't have a single-
"The moment we move that thing," Hazel warned, "this place goes on high alert. Better to get you out first."
What? No, "But…"
"I'll come back for it," Hazel assured. The three of them turned, exiting the space. "Not like she knows the password anyway." Oscar gave one last look to Jinn, but she gave a knowing smirk, fading back to her relic.
"So we just, what? Walk out of here?" Emerald asked. "Do you really think she'll let us?"
"It doesn't matter if she 'lets' us," Hazel replied. "It matters that we do it. Use your semblance, make the boy look like me. If you're walking together nobody will say anything. I'll go around a different way."
"And… there's a second objective, if you know where it is," Oscar said, treading carefully. "Our cane…"
Hazel frowned, but he nodded. "I'll go out first," he said.
Just like that he was gone, walking confidently and silently, disappearing through a valve and leaving Oscar and Ozpin alone with Emerald.
Author's Notes:... just pretend there's an insightful comment about Oz and Oscar here. Soooooooo tiiiiiiiiired...
Next chapter: Breaking out.