Roman Torchwick

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The thirteen-year-old boy was draped in his quilt, the upper half of his face buried underneath one of his pillows as his drew his breath at a slow, even rhythm. He could see the few golden strands of morning sunlight that managed to slip beneath the boundary of his makeshift blindfold, and knew he was probably oversleeping, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.

His blanket was soft, his pillow was deep, his bed was warm, and life was good. In fact, come to think of it, his bed was entirely too warm. He could feel a strange source of heat filling the mattress beside him, parts of it wrapped about his left arm like tendrils.

…That caused the boy to groan. He hesitantly opened his emerald eyes, heedless of their protest, and sat upright, throwing open his blankets to investigate the strange warmth. A girl was laying there, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around his arm as she slumbered peacefully. She was a few years younger than he was, and a great deal smaller, with pale skin and shoulder-length brown hair. After a few seconds, the chill of the removed blanket caused her to stir, and her eyelids flickered open. When her brown eyes met his own, she flashed a warm, sincere smile.

"I had a feelin'…" The boy mused, returning her smile and giving a resigned sigh. She'd managed to sneak into his room again, somehow. The girl pulled herself up onto her knees beside him, cocking her head and flashing a toothy grin as she wiggled her eyebrows.

"Want me to figure out how you did it, huh?" The boy grumbled, scratching his shoulder before stretching with a yawn. "Sure, great. I love trying to use my brain first thing in the morning." He threw his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself onto his feet, trembling as the chill of the early-winter air began to sink into his shirtless chest. Part of him devoutly wished he could just go back to sleep, but he had to admit he was curious.

He slowly trudged up to investigate his bedroom door, his little tormentor leaping from the bed and following behind him, bouncing from foot to foot as she silently giggled to herself. When he reached his door, he extended his hand and tested the knob, surprised to find that it refused to turn.

"Still locked… you didn't come in this way, then." He said firmly, casting a bright green eye back toward the girl. She flashed still more of her teeth as she fervently nodded, though he didn't really need the confirmation. Having him try to guess how she did it was part of the fun for her, so she'd never do something as dishonest as erase the evidence of her entry.

Indeed, this was the fourth time she'd pulled this stunt. First, she got in by stealing the key, so his dad started sleeping with the key around his neck. After that she picked the lock, so they had to install a deadbolt on the inside wall. It took her a few days to figure out how to get in after that, but she eventually pulled it off by stuffing pillows and plush animals under her blanket in a humanoid shape, creating the illusion of being in her room while she hid out in his closet and waited for everyone else to go to bed.
Her commitment to getting in here was impressive, at least. Honestly, he didn't mind if she wanted to sleep in his room, but after a few months his parents had started to object. There reasoning was fair, but he had a hard time accepting it.

Ah well, back to business. If it wasn't the door, then… He scanned his room. Wood-post twin bed, dresser, shelves lined with books and toys… nothing there that would help an intruder gain access. Maybe she got in through the window? Indeed, as he walked to the other end of his room and checked the exterior wall, he saw that the window's latch had been pulled free.

"H-how did you do this form the o-" He began to inquire but saw the answer before he could even finish the sentence. Each of the house's window latches had a fingerhole in the end to aid in locking or unlocking the pane. A thin length of wire had been slipped through that hole, extending along the sideways length of the window and through a tiny crack between the windowsill and the surrounding wall. He gripped the end of the wire, pulling the entire length of it into the house. It really was just length of metal… about three feet long, and as thick as pencil lead.

"Did you unwind a clothes hanger?" He asked, inspecting the makeshift tool with a thoughtful frown. By now the girl's smile was so wide it threatened to tear her face in half as she nodded still more vigorously, eliciting a sigh from the older boy, who used the wire to bop her head playfully. He was starting to piece together how she gotten in here. She must have unwound the hanger, gone outside, wedged the wire into a weak spot in the wall, then worked it up to undo the window latch.

That must have taken hours of patient work… and it was damned cold last night.

"I… I'm lucky you're not out to kill me." He finally muttered with a shrug, reaching out to rest his hand atop her head. This seemed to delight her to no end, as her body began to tremble with the force of a violent bout of giggles, the mirthful expression silent save for the hissing sound of her breath passing through her lips. He let her have her fun, heading to his dresser to throw on a plain white t-shirt before moving back toward the door.

"C'mon, then. Let's get you back in your own room before the old man finds out you snuck out again. You're running out of ways to break into my room." He said as he slid back the deadbolt and unlocked the knob, turning it slowly to make as little noise as possible. He reached toward his companion, jerking his fingers in a summoning gesture before stepping out into the dimly lit hallway. Her bedroom was right next door to his- a compromise his father had made with her when the adults made the decision to start forcing them to separate—so if they were quiet and quick about it, hopefully they could sneak her back before anyone was wise to what she'd done. The pair of them stepped out and began to creep along the brown-carpeted floor, but only made it a few feet down the hall before a firm, feminine voice called out from behind them.

"Hello, son." The boy felt his heart jerk, both out of dread at having been caught and excitement out of recognizing who was speaking. He turned around, unable to contain his joy as his eyes confirmed what his ears suspected.

"Mom!" He shouted, forgetting for a moment that he'd been caught and running to embrace her. After his most recent growth spurt, he was finally a little taller than she was, so he could straight into her deep amber eyes as she returned the hug, half a lit cigar hanging from the corner of her mouth.

"Way to make it worth the trouble of surprising you, Leon!" The middle-aged woman was much more reserved about her joy than her son, but a contented smile had none the less spread across her lips as she returned his embrace, laughing softly and letting her fingertips trail through his short red hair.

The little girl looked up at Leon's mother with narrowed eyes, her lips held in a flat, tense line. When Leon finally broke away from the woman's arms, the child promptly tucked herself behind his back, drawing one of her hands to the waistband of his flannel pajama pants and gripping the soft fabric.

"And Neo, you're looking a lot less like a skeleton now. That's good!" When his mother turned her attention to the girl, the child only barely extended enough of her face beyond his back to peek a single eye up at her. She gave a curt nod of her head before ducking back behind her human shield. Neo was intensely uncomfortable around people who weren't Leon, especially adults. Over the past few months, she'd gradually grown more comfortable around his dad, but since his mom was often gone for weeks at a time, the two of them had yet to develop any such rapport.

His mother took a long drag of the cigar between her lips, exhaling the smoke through her nostrils with a concerned sigh.

"I take it she spent the night in your room, again?"

Leon looked away, his bright green eyes narrowing as he turned down the corner of his mouth. He was silent for a long few seconds before he finally looked back at her with a determined scowl.

"You're not supposed to be smokin' in the house, mom." He said firmly. The redirection caught his mother off-guard, who gave an amused chuckle.

"I just got home twenty minutes ago, and your dad won't be back until this afternoon! You really going to judge me for this one last smoke before I go clean for a few weeks?" She reached out and poked his forehead with two of her fingers. "Did I raise a snitch, Leon?"

"…maybe. What's my silence worth?" The redheaded boy tried his best to keep his determined look, but couldn't resist allowing a small, cocky grin to spread across his lips. This evolved his mother's chuckle into a full-on laugh, and she shook her head.

"I see. 'mutually assured destruction', is it? Fine, son. Just this once." She shrugged her shoulders, taking a final drag on her smoke, bending her knee, and crushing out the flame of the cigar on the heel of her boot before returning it to her pocket. "We'll both pretend we didn't see anything this morning."

Leon's mother was an Atlesian military specialist, and it seemed she truly had just returned home, as she was still wearing her uniform. She was a short woman, with shoulder-length black hair, tanned skin, and dark amber eyes. Unlike his endlessly friendly and extroverted old man, his mom was much more reserved and judgmental—usually trying to be kind, but without being especially shy about mocking people who deserve it.

After conceded the point she looked at the children, her son and his… stray cat hidden behind him. It was tempting to call her his 'sister', but that didn't quite fit. After all, he was the one who named her… not a task that normally fell onto big brothers.

"That said, while you're getting away with it this time, this needs to stop." She said. Where before her voice had a playful quality to it, she was stern now, wanting to make sure he understood she was being a parent this time.

"…I know." Leon looked away and frowned deeply, Neo shrinking even more firmly against the small of his back. This elicited a sigh from his mom.

"We're not doing this to be mean. You realize that, right? She has to learn how to function without you. You're becoming a crutch for her."

Leon scrunched his face, balled his hands into fists, and turned his eyes down to the floor, bringing a maternal smile to his mother's lips. It was body language he often used when someone said something he knew was correct, but he didn't want to admit to.

"Easy for you and the old man to say." He finally said, reaching up to brush his bangs from his face. "I'm the one who has to listen to her sobbing at night."

"Leon, do you know what 'codependency' is?"

Her son didn't answer, merely flashing her a pointed look that implied a protest of '…I'm 13, Mom.' Behind him, Neo tightened her grip on his clothes, pressing her head against his back as if to preemptively protest any suggestion that they needed to be separated.

"Listen, you're a good-hearted kid, Leon. I mean that! Of all the kids I've ever met you're… somewhere in my top ten. Perfectly tolerable." His Mother's voice took on its default playfulness as she continued. "So, I know you think you're being nice to her, but think about it. I couldn't tell you what, but that girl has been through something terrible. Trauma changes people, especially kids. It can make 'em close themselves off from the world. If we don't fix it while she's young, she might not get better."

Leon's stomach twisted, his head turning to cast an eye at the girl clinging to him. When she saw he was looking at her, she looked back up at him, her eyes shifting from brown to pink as she gave him a desperate frown and shook her head. He tried to give her a smile to reassure her, but his lips wavered as they attempted to curve, and he had to abandon the attempt.

Yeah, Neo. I don't like any of this, either.

For the first six months she'd been living with him, the two of them were almost never apart. He'd done his best to introduce her to life in the town proper, serving as both a tour guide and a large back to hide behind if an adult happened to get closer than she was comfortable with. She reacted to the sights of the boring-as-crap community as if it were an amusement park, treating everything Leon showed her with such wide-eyed, genuine enthusiasm that is almost made him like his hometown, too. Almost.

Even then, though, it was clear she had… issues with people. She loved to pull pranks, to the extent of occasionally starting fights with the other children, but outside needling others for her own amusement, she seemed aggressively apathetic toward other people. Leon didn't really notice that at first… he, too, was aggressively apathetic toward other people, but his dad sure did.

The tipping point came last month. Leon wasn't sure of the reason, but Neo was completely incapable of speech. When the condition persisted after she'd had a few months to adjust to her new life, the counsellor at their school had approached Neo about starting to learn sign language. Her reaction to this was, well… she stomped her foot, scowling deeply and crossing her arms. After that she refused to respond to anything the teacher said or did, forcing them to call Leon into the office.

From the day they'd met, Leon had an almost supernatural capacity for understanding her body language, and indeed, he was able to tell them why she wasn't interested: She didn't need sign language to communicate with him, and she didn't give the slightest crap about communicating with anyone else, so she wasn't interested. She'd already begun to suspect that the adults were planning to separate them, and she wasn't about to cooperate.

He conveyed her sentiments with a casual shrug, but his parent's reaction was a bit less relaxed. That was when this whole mess had started. Neo had been given the spare bedroom from the start, but his Dad had originally been willing to look the other way when she promptly ignored that and slept with Leon instead. Now conscious effort was made to try to keep her there at night.

"If she's happy this way, then who cares?" He finally said, trying to look his mother in the eyes, but finding he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew he was wrong, but dammit! How could something that made Neo this miserable be good for her?

"Then what, Leon? You two grow up and she just never leaves your side? Spends the rest of her life hiding behind your back?" Her question made her son's shoulders sag, and she reached out to draw a hand through his hair with a soft expression. "Is such an uneven relationship fair for her?"

"I don't know. Why not? I'm not going anywhere." His usually cocky, obstinate voice was barely more than a whisper now, his head pointed down. His mother gave a disappointed snort, followed swiftly by another poke to the forehead.

"Listen, you narcissistic little gremlin, this isn't about you. I know that you have trouble getting close to people. I know that it can feel good to be this important to someone, and I know that you beat yourself up when people you care about are hurting. This is about what's good for Neo. She'll always be your friend, but she needs to find the strength to face the world without you. She's too young to accept that for herself right now, so if you really care about her, you need to help her. Sometimes kindness— true kindness—is painful for everyone."

A long silence fell between the two of them, and Leon could feel Neo shaking her head against his back. He took a deep breath, followed by another, his balled fists slacking and tightening a few times. After a few seconds, he finally looked up again, his lips placed flat as he offered an irresolute nod.

"Yeah… I know." He said quietly.

"You're not in trouble or anything… you happened to catch me in a moment of weakness, so we'll pretend we didn't see each other this morning. Just keep it in mind for next time, eh?" His mother leaned in to kiss his forehead as he raised his face, taking a step back and stretching. "I promise we'll take it slow; we aren't just going to throw her out to the wild right off the bat. Now then, your Dad'll be home soon, what say you two go get dressed? Since I'm here, I may as well pretend to be some kind of mom and feed everybody.

"I, uh… I'd prefer if you didn't do that, actually. We can wait for the old man to cook when he gets back." Leon groaned. His mom narrowed her eyes and gave him still a third poke to the forehead.

"I'll give your objection all the thought it deserves, brat." She said in a tone so devoid of emotion that it sent a shiver down his spine. She turned on her heel, raising her middle finger behind her back as she stormed off to the kitchen.

"Real mature, Mom." Leon chuckled and shrugged. Only after it was clear his mother was truly gone did Neo finally release her grip on him, darting around to his front and looking up into his eyes. The light in front of her refracted for a moment, as if bouncing off glass, and she began shifting the colors of her hair and eyes, from pink, to white, and back to their original brown. He wasn't sure whether that was something she'd always been able to do, or something she'd learned since coming to live with him, but she didn't seem to be able to control it properly yet.

"I don't think they're gonna drop this, Neo. We may have to give it a try. It'll be okay… I won't let 'em keep me too far away from ya." He tried his best to sound reassuring, despite being less than thrilled by any of this himself, but she clearly wasn't in the mood to be reassured. She crossed her arms and shook her head firmly, a worried grimace on her face.

"I'm telling you; you'll be okay. You're a lot stronger than you think you are. We'll have to show them that, too."

Neo crinkled her nose at this, tapping two fingers against her arm as she looked up thoughtfully. After a moment she nodded in agreement with whatever thought she'd just had, meeting Leon's eyes with a mischievous gaze and flexing her arms melodramatically. The older boy looked at this for a moment before laughing.

"You can try to bulk up if you want; I'll even help if I can. Who knows? Maybe next time they see us I'll be the one hidin' behind your back." He conceded, before adding with a wink, "…though, I don't know. I may need to crouch a little bit, first."

The girl rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation, but after a moment she shrugged and silently laughed along with him. The pair of them resumed their walk to her bedroom, laughing together, as the scene suddenly evaporated into strands of black smoke, melting away until only an abyss of darkness remained. As that darkness began to swirl, the familiar voice of a fallen Grimm echoed loudly throughout the nothingness:

"As you struggle to escape your death, you will bring suffering and lamentation to those you love most. When the day comes that you realize the futility of your efforts, and fall into despair, you will know that Aibell's grudge is finally repaid…"

The voice rang out until the final word was spoken, then fell silent as the void of darkness swallowed everything.

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[Document Manager keeps erasing my trasition breaks and attempts to add spacing... so consider this a transition break]
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Roman blinked, feeling his consciousness violently jerk itself back into reality. He was standing in the middle of a broad dirt road, with lush, unbroken forest on either side. With a groan, he gripped his head, momentarily uncertain of where he was or what he was doing.

"Oh! There you are." A relieved female voice behind him caused him to turn, one eye peeking around his shoulder to face his travel companion. Weiss' light blue eyes were wide, her brow knit in concern as she stared at him. "I turned around and you were gone, I thought maybe you were scouting out the woods."

"I was… gone?" He parroted her words, as if hoping hearing them a second time might help him comprehend them. At the very least he was starting to shake the weird, muddled static in his brain that had been buzzing ever since he woke up.

Wait, woke up? Had he been asleep? Had that been a dream? He hadn't slept a single time since he came back from death, why would he start now?

His mind ran over everything he'd seen-his old bedroom, his home, Neo, his mother— it was a memory from his childhood, but so vivid that he felt as if he were living it over again. Was that what Weiss saw when she slept, too? Damn, almost felt like she was seeing him naked!

Come to think of it, if she saw his memories when she slept, and he was asleep, why did he see his own memories instead of hers? That hardly seemed fair.

This flurry of thoughts caused him to freeze up, and he didn't notice that he'd abandoned his discussion with Weiss mid-stream and turned away from her. The girl moved around him, but as she got a better look at his face, the lines of concern that had begun to dig their way into her forehead only grew deeper.

"Roman, are you okay?" Her voice had grown softer now, almost sad, as she covered her mouth with her fist. The question only added to Roman's confusion, until he realized his eyes had been burning ever since he'd 'woken up'. He hesitantly reached up, drawing two fingers along his cheekbone and pulling them back to find the fabric of his glove had been darkened by moisture.

He was… crying?

"Hey, I'm perfectly fine, Weiss Cream." He said in his usual, confident tone, snickering as the name drew a groan from his tiny partner. The terms of their wager were that he had to call her 'Weiss', but she'd never specified he had to stop there. "I just zoned out for a second, there. We've been walking like this for a long time, after all."

The answer clearly didn't erase her worry, but she seemed to know it was all he was going to say on the matter, so after a final frown she nodded, reaching out to pat his arm before continuing on. Roman took a deep breath, drawing the length of his forearm across his face in an effort to dry it, then followed along behind.

His heart felt like it was trapped in a vice, and his stomach was tense and swirling. Maybe tears were the natural reaction to seeing those two again. Especially as vividly as he had. It felt like old wounds had been torn open inside him. Wounds he'd begun to hope may have finally scabbed over.

Torchwick and Weiss had been together for two months now, and in all that time nothing like this had ever happened before. He wanted to dismiss it as a one-off fluke, but something about it worried him… hopefully his connection to the Ice Queen was still going strong.

The two of them walked in for a long while after that, occasionally exchanging a few polite words, but largely in silence. Since arriving in Mistral, they'd spent countless days walking, and while Torchwick's stamina was infinite, Weiss had begun to truly experience the effects of her sedentary life back at the manor. Between exhaustion and soreness, she was prone to getting snippy if he teased her too far, a trait that alternatively amused and terrified him.

"We shouldn't be too far away, now." Weiss took a deep breath, reaching into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled sheet of paper, and looking over the writing with a thoughtful frown.

"Talking about that cabin?" Roman asked. Every time they stopped by a settlement; Weiss would ask around for clues about her friends. This side-trip was born from one of those leads—a traveling merchant saying she'd encountered a group of teenage huntsmen in the area. "We're losing half a day walking this direction, you know. A lot of time to waste chasing old information."

In truth, Torchwick simply hated the thought that they might be here. Part of him was happy to see Weiss so motivated, but he was in no rush for this little reunion of hers to take place. Even with literal weeks to try to brace himself, he still wasn't sure how he'd react when he saw Little Red again.

"Accord to Winter, they're probably headed to Haven Academy. If we know the destination, we'll cross paths with them eventually, so I don't mind checking out any tips we pick up along the way." Weiss shook her head, double-checking the instructions she'd jotted down. Roman shrugged a shoulder at this, bending a hand to the side.

"Right, Haven Academy, I got that. So, don't misconstrue this as complaining- not like I can get tired or anything- but did it ever occur to you that we could have just flown all the way there? Walking across an entire gods-damned kingdom seems to be taking a toll on you."

Weiss closed her eyes, refolding the paper and returning it to her pocket before responding.

"We put that pilot through enough trouble already. Flying all the way across Mistral would have been too much to ask, especially with so much bandit activity in the area." When the word 'bandit' escaped her lips, Weiss abruptly stopped walking, her eyes opening as all expression melted away from her face. After a moment she realized she'd frozen up, and shook her head, reaching to massage her brow with her fingertips.

"Whoa, there. We can't both be zoning out at the same time." It was Roman's turn to be worried for his partner's well-being.

"Oh no, It's- Well, actually," she debated with herself for a moment before admitting, "I want to say it's nothing, but after everything that's happened in the past few weeks, I can't be so sure."

"Yeah! After everything we've been through, nothing surprises me anymore. What's bothering you?" Torchwick asked. Was she going through something weird now, too? Maybe their connection really was going wonky.

"It's hard to describe. Ever since we fought the talking Grimm back at the mountain, I sometimes get this weird feeling. To the effect of, 'something's wrong. Things weren't meant to happen this way.'" Weiss traced the end of her ponytail with her hand as she spoke. "I don't know. It's as if some part of me thinks it knows what the future holds, but it keeps getting it wrong."

"Heh. So, you're a seer too? The summoner seer Schnee… you really did win the lottery when you were born." Torchwick said in a flippant tone, earning an annoyed glare for his effort.

"Of course not, you jerk! I'd never felt anything like this before that fight, but it hasn't stopped ever since. When that nice old woman warned us about the Branwen tribe, the feeling started up again. It felt…wrong that we'd made it this far without crossing paths with those bandits."

Torchwick sighed. It was clear to him now that this whole thing was bugging her worse than she was trying to pretend it did. Having heard what was bothering her, he was a bit less than concerned, though. Sounded to him like her worrywart brain was just contriving a new, exciting way for her to stress herself out. Still, it wasn't that much stranger than everything else to do with their current situation, so he found himself inclined to somewhat believe her.

"So, the 'bad' thing in this situation is that we didn't get accosted by brigands? I hate to break it to ya, but it sounds like we're living in the better timeline, here."

"Maybe. I don't know. It feels like I've missed something really important." She hugged her sides, her light blue gaze cast down into the dirt before her. Torchwick picked up his pace to walk beside her. Cheering people up wasn't really a talent of his, but clearly, he had to say something here, right?

"You're doing this to yourself again. Remember what I told you back at the mansion? There ain't any such thing as fate, and no one 'belongs' anywhere they don't want to be. No one can write our future except us, and even if the gods want to enforce some kinda destiny, well, screw 'em! Have you seen the world, Weiss? There are literal fear monsters running around eating people! Any god who would intentionally create a world like this is too vicious or too stupid to be kept in charge of the future."

Torchwick had never taken much stock in determinism. Sure, he believed everything was terrible, things would always change for the worse, and the bad guy would always win… but that had nothing to do with gods or fate. That was just because the world was run by people, and people unilaterally sucked.

No, the future was a fragile thing. A butterfly flaps its wings a little differently, and soon the world is unrecognizable.

Weiss paused, eyes shifting up to meet his as she offered a weak, indecisive smile.

"I guess it's pretty silly to be this worried about something so vague." She said softly.

"Not silly, really. Like you said, it's hard to dismiss anything when you're being haunted by a ghost. Even if it is silly, it's not that that'll stop you. It's a full-time job, stopping you from giving yourself anxiety attacks on a daily basis." Torchwick responded playfully.

"Oh, PLEASE! I'm not surprised a narcissist like you overstates his own importance. I'd fare just fine on my own!" She gave an aggressive 'humph', her face tensing up in that way it always did when she reached her preferred level of annoyed. Torchwick maintained his flippant façade, though, knitting his fingers together and leaning his head back against his hands.

"You think so? I dunno, Weiss Cream. You don't handle being alone very well, from what I've seen."

"By the gods, Roman… really? Hmm, what's this? 'ring, ring, ring'?" Weiss pantomimed pulling a scroll out of her pocket and raising it to her ear, nodding her head as she pretended to hear a conversation. "Oh, it's Mr. Pot. Sounds like he has some extraordinarily strong words for Ms. Kettle."

"That's, heh." He began, but couldn't resist starting to laugh at that, leaning back to look up at the tree-line on either side of them. "That was pretty good, actually."

"Thank you. I've been under the instruction of quite an expert clown, lately." Weiss beamed up at Torchwick, puffing out her chest. He guessed she was proud to finally be the one who made him break into laughter.

"Damn right! Hopefully, you keep all that tutelage in mind when the gang's back together."

An emotion Torchwick didn't recognize passed through Weiss' soft blue eyes. Her smile remained, but some imperceptible thing about it changed as she suddenly shifted her weight, kicking a leg absently and looking away from him.

"Oh, don't misunderstand me, Roman. I'd have been fine on my own, but I'm still glad you're here." A light blush colored the pale skin of her cheeks as she sighed. "Having you with me has been… surprisingly tolerable. I wouldn't mind if it were to continue for a while, even after we find my friends."

'Tolerable', huh? Her word-choice stuck in Torchwick's chest, reminding him of the memories he'd just finished living. He put a hand over his heart, feigning shock.

"Goodness, Weissicle! That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me when you weren't suffering from a traumatic head injury."

"Yes, well," Her blush worsened as she huffed at his teasing. "I just wanted to make sure I expressed my appreciation for what you've done! Unlike a certain thief, I try to pay my debts."

Maybe it was a testament to how weird this day had been for her that she was feeling so sentimental. Worry about the future aside, she was on the precipice of something she'd been longing for. The mix of anxiety and excitement tended to make anyone emotional. He didn't have much to be 'excited' about, but he could empathize about that much, at least.

Maybe it was a testament to how weird this day had been for him that he was feeling sentimental, too. His thoughts hadn't fully left that dream since the moment he awoke. His past with Neo, that brief little moment in their lives between meeting each other and leaving his hometown, and the worries his family had for them. They hadn't been wrong to worry, after all. He and Neo really did end up rejecting everyone in the world except each other.

Neo…

That familiar numb weight began to swell into his gut, inviting the black ocean of despair he kept dammed in his heart to try to break free. That had been the first time he had seen her face since he came back to life, and the first time he'd thought about their childhood since long before that. She really had managed to flip the script on their relationship, hadn't she? In the end, he was the one hiding behind her back.

He strained, trying to force the growing tide of negative emotions back into their repressed corner of his brain. Once again, his thoughts fell to that night above Beacon, and the look of horror on Neo's face as the strong winds pulled her into the void. For once, though, his self-defense mechanism didn't trigger; he didn't immediately force himself to focus on his hatred toward Little Red for the murder. Instead, for just a moment, he let himself ponder Neo's death, and the regrets it had left within him.

If I'd known that would be the last time I ever saw you, would I have said something? What could I have said?

"Really, though, Weiss." Torchwick took a deep breath, bringing a hand to his neck as he bent his head to crack it. His voice had taken on an uncharacteristic earnestness. "I can honestly say that I'm glad you were the person I got stuck to. I, uh, find you pretty tolerable, yourself. I skimp out on payin' my debts whenever I can, but I make an exception for people I like. If you ever need anything, well, I'll always be at the end of our leash."

She looked up at him, and he somehow managed to give her a warm smile despite the tumult within him. There may have been so many more days of walking to come, and they may both have their own ominous feelings abut the future, but for just a moment the journey had begun to feel a little more pleasant.