Chapter Six: Cleaning Up

In the kitchen, Oscar stood staring in shock. "That's gonna take a lot of cleaning up." He ran his hand across the table, pausing at a small, reddish-brown stain.

"Your blood." Ozpin said, almost sadly.

Oscar glanced warily around the room, eyes narrowed. Spatters of blood had soaked into the floorboards, and there was another stain on the wall. A pool of vomit sat by the doorway. Broken remains of a wooden chair were scattered around the kitchen. The upturned bowl of soup still lay on the floor, attracting flies. He swore under his breath. "I've got to clean that up."

"You only came down here for a first aid kit." Ozpin sounded impatient.

"I have to clean up the mess I made before Dean sees it." Oscar ran to the small cupboard under the window and opened it, taking out an empty bucket.

"You didn't make that mess!"

Flinching hard, Oscar stopped in his tracks. His gloved hands tightened on the handle of the bucket.

Seemingly realising his mistake, Ozpin continued in a softer voice. "Your uncle did, when he almost killed you."

A pained look flashed across Oscar's face. "He wasn't going to kill me, I swear! I was just being annoying by not answering him properly, and I know he wants me to stay at the farm and help Carol. I shouldn't have mentioned Haven; he thinks it's too dangerous for me." His voice was earnest and pleading, but it shook like his hands did.

"Who are you trying to persuade, Oscar? " Worry seeped into Ozpin's voice. "I think we both know what could have happened last night. "

Oscar stayed silent, head bowed.

"I don't want to see you get hurt again, Oscar." Ozpin pleaded. "I've lost too many students, and too many friends."

"I thought I was immortal now." Oscar's voice was quiet but bitterly sarcastic. "You know, since our souls are merged." "I'm immortal." Ozpin said. "That doesn't mean you are. "

The finality of his statement hung in the air. Oscar straightened up slowly, putting down the bucket.

"Let me clean up, then I'll grab the kit and go, okay? I promise." He lifted both hands and held them up in front of his chest, open palms facing the wall. "It won't take long."

"You don't have to ask for my permission." Ozpin said, his tone frosty. Oscar swallowed and carefully picked up the bucket.

"I'll just get some water from outside." He took a nervous step towards the back door. When there was no irritated comment or furious shout from Ozpin he continued, tension in every step. Slipping out of the back door as silently as he could, he scanned the yard, watching out for Dean or Carol. There was no one there. Satisfied that Dean was probably still asleep, he let out a shaky sigh.

"Okay, we're good." He glanced at his hand and realised it was shaking slightly. He tucked it into his pocket.

The water pump stood against the side of the house, rusty metal tinted green. Oscar walked up to it and, taking hold of the handle, pulled down hard. A clear stream of water gushed out into the bucket. He carried it carefully back inside, making sure not to spill any. "Happen to know any good ways to get blood out of wood?" Oscar asked, half sarcastic and half serious.

"Try vinegar. It works for vomit too. Ozpin said, deadpan.

"Okay..." Oscar shot him a quizzical look that he couldn't see. He knelt down and picked up the bowl, rinsing it in the bucket. Satisfied it was clean, he placed it gently in the cupboard and turned back to scrubbing soup, vomit and blood off the floor.

After a few minutes, the floorboards were mostly clean and the broken bits of chair had been swept outside and hidden. Oscar wiped sweat off his forehead and sighed quietly. "Okay, I'm done. I'll get the kit." He crossed to the cabinet and knelt down, pulling open the bottom drawer. Taking out the cloth bag, he asked, "What am I going to need?"

"What's in it?" Ozpin replied.

"Let's see." Oscar said, peering inside. He tipped the contents of the bag out onto the floor. There was a roll of bandages, antiseptic compresses, pins, burn ointment, a needle and thread, a sling, and gauze.

"Take all of it." Ozpin said.

"Dean will notice." Oscar's hand jumped involuntarily to his neck and he tugged at his bandage.

"We'll be gone by then. "

"I can't leave Aunt Carol without a med kit." Oscar fretted, running a hand through his hair. "Dean's gonna be really pissed off that I left and..." He trailed off, staring at the doorway. "Oh gods... He'll be so angry, and I won't be here, but Aunt Carol will, and-"

"Oscar." Ozpin cut across his rambling. "Your aunt will be fine. She's an adult, she can take care of herself."

"You don't know that." Oscar said, breathing heavily.

"Oscar, you're hyperventilating."

Oscar closed his eyes and pulled at his hair. "I can't stop." He stammered.

"Listen to me. Breathe slowly and steadily. Carol is a capable adult, and you are the only thing keeping her here. When you leave, she will come to her senses and leave. She'll finally be free."

Oscar looked up, eyes open wide. "I'm keeping her here?" His voice shook.

"By insisting your loyalty lies with your uncle, you are trapping both yourself and your aunt with him."

"I never wanted that. I just-"

Ozpin cut him off. "Wanted a home? A family? A safe place to sleep? "

A shaky sob escaped Oscar and he hunched over, holding his head in his hands.

"This is no home. This is no family. You will never be safe as long as you are here." His voice was brutally cold.

Oscar's hands shook as he pulled at his hair, trying to ground himself.

Ozpin let out a quiet sigh. "I'm sorry Oscar, I -" He faltered, and Oscar looked up, worry and fear written across his face. Ozpin tried again. "You may not have a true home here, but you can find one."

Some of the fear in Oscar's eyes dissipated. A flicker of confusion replaced it and he tilted his head slightly, listening.

"I promise you, if you leave now, you will have the chance to find a home, and even a family. You'll get that adventure you've been dreaming of."

"You really think so?"

"I know it. You'll be a great hero one day."

"A hero?" He questioned. Ozpin didn't reply. Sitting up a little straighter, Oscar brushed a stray tear from his cheek. "I want that."

"Then you know what to do."

He looked down at the scattered bandages and took a deep, steady breath. Slowly, his trembling hands stilled.

"I sound crazy." A quiet chuckle escaped him. "I'm taking life advice from the voice in my head."

"I should think so; I've lived far more lives than you."

At that impossible statement, Oscar snorted, sweeping the contents of the first aid kid back into its bag. "I'm stuck with you, aren't I?"

"I'll never leave you."

"As weird as that sounded Oz, it was actually kinda nice. Thanks." A small smile graced his lips and his eyes shone a little brighter.

"You're welcome."

Grabbing the bag, Oscar stood up. "Okay. Let's do this."