Aspen was… a Grimm.
Aspen… was a Grimm.
Aspen was a… Grimm?
Variations of the same thought had been swirling around Rhys's head ever since he'd watched Aspen's blood evaporate off of Ilex's hands. It seemed so obvious looking back on the last month, but he still couldn't wrap his head around it. Even the few hours of sleep he'd managed to get had been fraught with the image of Aspen morphing into a Beowolf and… well, still acting like Aspen, but that wasn't really the point. The point was that he'd found out his partner was different from what he thought she was, and that was an isolating experience.
Professor Goodwitch had been waiting for them when they got back to Beacon but, rather than answer any of their questions, she'd put them in a classroom—Yech—and told them to wait. Rhys had never done well idling on his own but the others pretty much immediately split off to different parts of the room to deal with everything themselves, so he'd taken his own corner near the front to do the same. Well, try. Again, he had trouble figuring anything out.
Eventually, the stillness became too much for Rhys and he decided to see how everyone else was faring. Not so great, it seemed. Ilex looked like he was still asleep in the back corner of the room, head buried in his arms on the desk. He seemed to have taken the whole thing with Aspen the worst, so Rhys didn't want to disturb him. Carmine was awake in the other corner, but concentrating on something really far away. He wasn't glowering, though. If he'd been glowering or tinkering—normal stuff—Rhys might've tried to talk with him, but he figured he was probably trying to deal with the situation on his own.
Mantis was behind the desk at the front of the room, staring intensely at his scroll exactly like he had been for hours now. Rhys didn't know what he was doing, but he managed to catch a couple of snippets when the man muttered to himself. Something about knuckles and apathy. Maybe he'd be willing to talk? Wait, he didn't know sign language, did he? Not that Rhys couldn't just use his own scroll to type out what he wanted to say, he just wasn't in the mood for it. Also, Mantis had been kind of a jerk when they trained. So, Rhys was out of options once again.
Actually, that technically wasn't true. He could reach out to his family, but that would depend on whether or not they were available. He checked the time; it would be evening in Mistral, but still between dinner and bedtime, when things tended to be craziest. Even if he were to call Mom, he'd have to deal with a thousand questions from the rest of his family, and he didn't really feel like dealing with that right now. Still, it couldn't be worse than stillness.
-/Are you free to call?/- he sent. No fluff. Just a question. Hopefully, Mom would pick up that this was more serious than he usually was.
A moment later, she responded, -/Sure, just give me a minute./- Grabbing a stack of books to prop his scroll up on, Rhys made sure his volume was all the way down so he wouldn't bother the others.
It was a good thing he did because, when the call did come in, he was immediately bombarded with half a dozen faces crowded together, all talking and signing at once. Ioan, the oldest, trying to hold the scroll away to get everyone in the shot even as he elbowed their brother Alun away to sign with his free hand; Alun fighting back with his head and jabbering away regardless; Gwen trying to find any spot she could between her brothers and cousins; cousin Eurig trying to grab the scroll away from Ioan to show something off-camera; and the bright-eyed twins, Glyn and Bryn, poking their heads up from the bottom to awkwardly sign their own questions. Rhys couldn't help smiling as he said hello to each of them in turn. The chaos was familiar, even if it wasn't what he wanted right now.
Through all the visual noise, Rhys made out something about TV, but the scroll camera moved before he could work anything out. His siblings and cousins clambered over one another trying to chase after it, but his mother quickly appeared in frame to scold them. Once they were sufficiently cowed, she turned to face the camera with a wide smile. "Hello, mush!" she signed, walking out into another room and away from the madness of their extended family.
"Hi, Mom," Rhys replied, already feeling more at ease. Mom always had a talent for that. Wrangling so many kids in one house was probably responsible for a good number of the lines on her face but, for as stern as she could be with all of them at once, she always had time to sit down one-on-one with her children.
Rhys waited patiently as Mom maneuvered through the house. She flashed the camera toward Uncle Berwyn and Aunt Aderyn who exchanged brisk greetings with Rhys, but she didn't slow until she entered the kitchen. -|Guess who?|- she said to someone off-camera before sidling up to a dark-haired man.
Mom seemed to have taken Dad off-guard with the maneuver because it took him several seconds of looking back and forth before focusing on the scroll. -|Oh, hey, mush.|- He glanced sheepishly down at the apron he wore, spotted with water. -|Sorry I can't sign. Your mother decided to ambush me in the middle of dishes.|- He gestured toward her scroll with his chin. -|Careful, hun. Don't want to drop that in the sink.|-
Mom rolled her eyes, kissing Dad on the cheek before pulling away. "Saw you on TV," she signed as she sat down at the kitchen table. She propped her scroll on something to free her hands. "You said you've been fighting Grimm since the attack on Beacon, but you never mentioned anything about them sending you out to capture criminals. Is that girl on your team okay?"
Rhys frowned and shrugged. "It was kind of a last minute assignment, so it wasn't really like I could tell you about it. And… yeah. Aspen's okay. She's really tough." Which, he now realized, was probably because she was a Grimm.
Observant as ever, Mom picked up on his change in mood. "What's bothering you, mush? What was it you wanted to talk about?"
Rhys's gaze dropped to the bottom of his scroll, just far enough that he could still see the entire screen. "I don't know if I'm allowed to talk about it, but… Aspen lied to us about something that feels kind of important and I'm not really sure how I should feel about it."
"I see. Well, what did she lie about?" Mom asked. She shook her head when he hesitated. "You don't have to tell me exactly what the lie was if you're not allowed to talk about it."
Bend the rules. Rhys could do that. "Well, she told us she was one thing—or, really, just let us think she was one thing—and it turns out she's something completely different. Something maybe bad."
"And what's making you feel conflicted?"
Rhys crinkled his nose at the use of the word 'conflicted.' "I dunno. I think, maybe, it's just that she seemed so cool before, but now that I know what—" He should probably stop calling Aspen a what. "—who she really is, I don't know if she's still cool anymore."
A sly smile spread across Mom's face. " 'Cool,' you say?" Huffing, Rhys crossed his arms. He'd been through this bit before and wasn't having it, especially right now. Mom laughed gently. "I'm sorry. Now isn't the time for teasing." She sat up straight and put her serious face back on. "Have you tried talking to her?"
Rhys pouted. "I haven't gotten the chance. Tawny took her away right after we found out and we've been stuck waiting ever since."
"Well, there's your first problem," Mom signed, rolling her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're not going to know if she's still cool or not unless you talk to her again."
"But I don't know when I'm going to get the chance and I don't want to wait!"
Mom shook her head. "You're so impatient, mush." She sighed and raised an eyebrow at him. "Let me ask you this, then: how is the Aspen you thought you knew different from the one you think she is now?"
Rhys pursed his lips. Well, the old Aspen liked to fight, even if she was serious about it. Grimm-Aspen…would probably like to fight because that's what Grimm did, and if she were some emotionless monster, she'd probably be pretty serious, too. Old Aspen had a cool ability that let her feel Aura… which is probably something that Grimm could do, now that he thought about it. Aspen didn't like being touched. Grimm didn't like being touched. Aspen was tough. Grimm were tough. Aspen liked to wear black and white. Grimm were black and white.
Huh.
Aspen had never really acted like she wasn't a Grimm. She'd just let everyone think she was human, so her acting like a Grimm even though she wasn't had seemed cool, but knowing that she was a Grimm that looked human but still acted like a Grimm had to change things, didn't it? Context or whatever. If she were human, she'd be fighting Grimm so she could protect other humans and faunus. If she were Grimm, she'd be fighting Grimm so… so…
Why would she be fighting Grimm if she were a Grimm? Clearly she had some kind of reason, otherwise she wouldn't be fighting Grimm. Rhys couldn't think of a reason, though. Carmine would have been able to. He'd probably say Aspen had been trying to trick them into thinking she was on their side so she could kill them in their sleep or something. That would be a Carmine thing to think. He always seemed suspicious of Aspen.
Oh, heck! Carmine had known Aspen was a Grimm!
That was certainly something to think about, but it still didn't make total sense. If Carmine had known, why hadn't he told anyone? It wasn't like him to not be vocal about distrusting people. Maybe he'd thought it would be too dangerous to tell anyone? Except that still didn't make any sense! Well, it did—Aspen was dangerous—but she wasn't that kind of dangerous. Sure, she'd attacked them and Ruby's team and picked fights with secret criminals, but she never really hurt anyone. In fact, she had tried to save people during the Battle of Beacon. She'd led the charge to save people! She was a hero, not a monster!
"Hey!" Rhys looked up to see Mom waving her hand at the camera to get his attention. "Are you having trouble focusing again?" she asked.
Rhys shook his head. "No, I was just thinking about Aspen." Taking a deep breath, he puffed out his chest. "She is a good person, and she is still cool."
Mom laughed again. "Looks like you have a pretty definitive answer."
Rhys grinned. He did, didn't he? Or… maybe he didn't. His smile faded. Something still didn't feel quite right about it. Like, he'd solved the part of the puzzle that was right in front of his face with Mom's help, but he was still missing a piece of it, something that made it feel incomplete.
Before either he or Mom could comment on it, however, Oliver sat up suddenly and looked to the back of the room. Turning to look, Rhys saw Professor Goodwitch leading Tawny and Aspen in. He quickly spun back to his scroll. "Hey, sorry Mom. Professor Goodwitch is back, so I gotta go."
"Okay. Love you, mush! Cwtches!"
"Love you too, Mom."
(- -)
As he rose to his feet, Oliver couldn't stop the feeling of trepidation crawling up his spine. He'd spent all night researching, trying to find anything—anything—that could explain what he'd seen last night. There were plenty of Grimm that resembled humans in shape and, quite frankly, constituted the stuff of nightmares, but absolutely nothing about Grimm that could pass for human. That could have meant no one had ever caught onto one before, or it could have meant he'd been the first sucker to fall for the trick. Presumably, he'd soon find out which was true whether he liked it or not.
Headmistress Goodwitch's entrance commanded the full attention of everyone in the room. Rhys ended a video call Oliver hadn't even noticed he'd been making, Carmine rose slowly to his feet, and Ilex lifted his head, ears twitching. Over her glasses, Goodwitch looked at the four of them spread out around the room before walking down the center steps toward Oliver. Laurel followed behind her, hand on Aspen's back in gentle guidance. She briefly met his gaze before returning her attention to Aspen.
Oliver wanted to be angry. He wanted to feel like he had some kind of moral high ground to stand on to justify it, but the truth was he didn't know what to feel. Loss? Disappointment? Shame? The look in Laurel's eyes had been calm, but Oliver sensed a ghost of the night before, a warning not to push back recklessly. For years, she'd always tried to temper his impulsive side, and yet now she was the one trusting blindly.
And what about Aspen? She'd misled him and Laurel from the very beginning. Maybe she'd never explicitly lied about what she was, but she had let them believe something fundamentally untrue about her and used that belief to her own advantage. She'd played them. She'd played him. Betrayal certainly felt like an appropriate emotion in such a situation.
Oliver walked out from behind the desk, ceding the position of authority to Goodwitch. Laurel had led Aspen to the empty corner of the room, so Oliver moved to the opposite side, near where Rhys sat. He told himself it was less about putting distance between them than it was being able to see both Aspen and Goodwitch, but a tickle in the back of his mind told him it didn't matter how he justified his distrust.
Once behind the desk, Glynda scanned the room again, stopping on Aspen. She held the girl's gaze for moment, then nodded and addressed the rest of them. "This is your one opportunity to leave." Her voice was authoritative and, even five years out of Shade, Oliver instinctively straightened up. "Should you choose to do so, you will be free to do as you wish. You may take your perception of the truth to any tabloid you choose. You may spread rumors among the more conspiratorially-minded. You may return to your normal life outside of Beacon and pretend nothing has happened. As an acting member of the Council, I legally cannot stop you. If you stay, however, you will be bound to the utmost silence on anything discussed in this room. This is a matter of national security." Her eyes briefly drifted to Aspen. "More importantly, these are not our secrets to share."
An uncomfortable silence filled the room in the wake of the warning. Oliver spared glances toward the three boys to see if any would take Goodwitch's offer. Ilex was the only one who seemed to be seriously considering it—Carmine immediately crossed his arms and Rhys looked around at the others—but he eventually sat back and laid his hands on the desk in front of him.
Oliver knew he wouldn't be leaving either, not only because of his duty as a huntsman, but as Laurel's partner. Maybe she'd been told everything already, maybe she hadn't. Despite her apparent about-face, not to mention everything else going on between them, he wasn't going to up and abandon her.
Seeing that everyone would be staying, Goodwitch nodded. "Very well." She opened her scroll and placed it on the desk. A holographic display built into the surface engaged and a photo of Aspen appeared above it. "As I understand you all discovered last night, Aspen is neither human nor faunus. Nor, for that matter, is she Grimm. Not as we understand them." Oliver raised an eyebrow. That was a very… particular choice of words. "Rather, she is a member of an ancient species called Rephaim." She gestured toward Aspen herself. "A rephaite."
Goodwitch continued, explaining that, despite being functionally immortal, the Rephaim were all but wiped out by Humanity many thousands of years before. Those that remained had somehow morphed into the modern Grimm. They still shared a number of similarities, and as every detail was laid out, Oliver grew more and more furious with himself for never putting the pieces together before.
What he'd assumed to be Beacon cleaning the blood from her clothes had turned out to have been her blood literally disintegrating. A lack of appetite, little need for food whatsoever. An aura-detecting Semblance, a natural ability. Aura-enhanced strength, speed, and regeneration—also natural. Even her distinctive features were a direct genetic link.
To top it all off, every time she'd "died"—from the desert to her sparring matches with himself and Laurel and with Mercury Black—had apparently been the result of not resting properly. Where a normal human or faunus would pass out from not getting enough sleep, Aspen's body would completely shut down and restart itself. Despite this, she was still going to live for tens of thousands of years, at least. As it turned out, though, that wasn't the worst of it.
There was another rephaite, and he was nowhere near as nice as Aspen had made herself seem.
Goodwitch pulled another photo up on the holographic display. Judging from Rhys's gasp, the man in the image was the same one who had interrupted the previous night's mission. It also wasn't much of a leap for Oliver to assume it was the same man Laurel had seen with Aspen back when she'd been hunting Grimm.
He called himself Deirean, and he claimed to be the last of the "Old Rephaim." How he was still alive was unknown but, by his own account, he had personally hunted and killed countless humans back when the other Rephaim were still around. Since Aspen had released him—he'd evidently been trapped in a Rephaitic facility at the bottom of a chasm in the Emerald Forest—he'd racked up an alarming body count that included the woman who had killed Headmaster Ozpin and almost included General Ironwood. The entire reason Aspen—and, by extension, Oliver and Laurel—had been released was in service of capturing him. Now, he was in the wind.
"Holy hell…" Oliver's legs shook beneath him, but he managed to stay standing. In the back of his mind, he knew that nothing had changed, yet his entire existence felt like it had been stripped away and reframed. The things he'd long thought to be absolutes had been cast in shades of gray by the mere existence of a single girl, the same girl who had reshaped his life in ways he hadn't even realized and in ways he didn't think he could ever feel comfortable with.
"So, what? That's it?" Ilex asked from the back of the room, voice trembling. He gestured down at Aspen. "She wears that bracer and we're just supposed to be okay with it?"
Goodwitch frowned, but her eyes were sympathetic. "While I understand your concern, the bracer is a key condition of Aspen's release. The Council—"
"I'm not talking about the bracer! I'm talking about her!" Ilex shot to his feet, slamming his hands on the desk. "She's a Grimm. She's worse than a Grimm; her kind literally hunted people for fun. She tried to kill me! All of us! Even knowing all that, you're still putting her on a team with us?"
The sympathy left Goodwitch's eyes, replaced by a hardened edge. "Despite some missteps, Aspen has proven herself trustworthy enough for the bracer to be sufficient insurance. She is also committed to her training as a huntress, which is more than I can say for you. So, yes, we are. Regardless of whether you are comfortable with that, you will accept it if you wish to remain at Beacon Academy."
Ilex's breathing turned rapid, tears beginning to form in the corner of his eyes. With everything that had happened, Oliver only now noticed that Emerald's blood still stained his sleeve cuffs as his hands curled into fists. "Well, I guess it's good that I never wanted to be here in the first place." Leaving no room for response, Ilex barreled his way to the door and forced his way out of the room.
The room fell silent once more, and Oliver glanced at Goodwitch. She still looked irritated, but made no effort to stop Ilex from leaving. Then, Carmine slowly rose to his feet. He didn't speak and his face betrayed little, but Oliver could see the gears turning in his head. One foot already toward the door, Carmine's mind was clearly split by action, not words. Receiving a nod from Goodwitch, he cast an uneasy glance at Aspen before silently leaving after his partner.
As the door shut behind Carmine, Oliver's gaze drifted to Aspen as well. Despite her drooping head and arms pulled close to her chest, the Grimm-bone armor lent her an inherent ferocity that she couldn't shake no matter her posture. The long split in the leather where Deirean had cut through her abdomen only served as a reminder of how inhuman she really was. Oliver couldn't wrap his head around how Laurel could stand beside her now, of all times.
Oliver sighed. "He has a point." While she'd remained collected through the entire exchange thus far, Laurel's eyes were now wide with shock and betrayal. With things still uneasy between them, the last thing Oliver wanted to do was drive another wedge between them, but he couldn't stay silent on this. "They had a right to know from the beginning. We all did."
Goodwitch frowned. "Regardless, It was Professor Ozpin who made the decision to keep Aspen's identity a secret per her request."
"Then we should have been told when we were all released," Oliver countered.
"Did you not hear what she said?" Laurel asked. "It was Aspen's choice not to tell anyone."
"It wasn't her choice to make."
"What?! Why not?" Laurel's eyes glowed, not just with anger, but her Semblance as well. Oliver was too far away to feel the effects, however. "Why is her comfort and safety less valuable than any of ours?"
Oliver shook his head. "That's not what I meant, Laurel. Don't put words in my mouth."
"Then what—" She cut herself off, taking a moment to calm herself. When she opened her eyes again, however, they were still glowing. "Maybe we should continue this out in the hall."
Much like the night before, Laurel wasn't leaving Oliver any room for debate. Emotion told him to stand his ground, that there was no reason they couldn't have this conversation in the same room as the others. Experience told him it wasn't a battle he would ever win. Shaking his head, Oliver strode through the middle of the room and up to the door.
As he stepped out into the hall, a wave of exhaustion passed over him. It had been, what, thirty hours now since he got pulled in to talk to Branwen? It felt like so much longer than that. Oliver could easily think of a dozen times he'd been more tired just from his time at Shade alone, but that didn't make him immune to fatigue. Maybe he could convince Laurel to let them both get some sleep before continuing their discussion.
No, probably not.
The door closed behind Oliver, and he turned to look at his partner. She still looked angry, but now her hurt and confusion were more evident. "What's going on with you, Oliver? Two weeks ago, you would have bitten the head off of anyone who treated Aspen like that."
Oliver couldn't help feeling defensive. "And two weeks ago, you were the one treating her like that, so if anyone should be asking what changed, it's me."
Laurel's face tightened. "Are you…?" She scoffed in disgust, putting sound to the bitterness in Oliver's mouth. "What changed is I stopped letting my distrust keep me from looking at her as a person. That's what she is, Oliver. A girl trying to figure herself out."
"I thought that too, Laurel, but that's not who she is." Oliver pointed back at the classroom. "You heard what Goodwitch said. Her kind—these… Rephaim—are killers. It's in their blood, and you saw that first-hand with the White Fang."
Laurel's shoulders slumped and she looked at him disbelief. "Did you not hear any of what I said yesterday? She doesn't want to kill. Gods know what happened to her to make her do… that, but just because she did it doesn't make her any more a killer than you, me, Ej, or Gray."
Oliver felt the words like an open wound, raw and untreated. Laurel seemed to recognize what she'd done, but it was too late for her to try and backpedal. "You don't get to say those kinds of things about Gray," Oliver said, blinking away tears at the edge of his vision. "I don't know what problems you had with her before she died, but I'm not going to stand here and let you badmouth her."
"Oliver, I didn't…" Laurel reached out to him, but he brushed her aside, turning to face the opposite wall. What did it matter if she hadn't meant it the way he'd heard it? She never did. It didn't change the fact that her words eroded away at one of the few good people he'd ever known.
Gods, he was tired.
Oliver felt the temperature of the hallway shift, the air around him warming several degrees. It was a comforting feeling that he tried to ignore despite wanting to embrace it. Laurel's voice came gently from behind him. "I never meant to say I blamed Gray for her own death. I don't blame you for it, either. I don't blame anyone." She paused, and Oliver could practically hear her thinking. "Maybe whatever killed her, but… that's not really important right now."
Oliver sighed. If they were going to do this, it might as well be a two-way conversation. "You said this was 'Gray all over again.' If you weren't talking about her death, what were you talking about?"
"Me." Oliver looked at Laurel in confusion, but she didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she walked past him to lean against the wall. Sighing quietly, she slid down until she sat on the floor. "I was going to leave. When you tried to… you know… with my sister, it hurt. I understood that it wasn't so simple as you trying to cheat on me with her, but it still made me angry. That wasn't why I broke up with you, though. I broke up with you because I was supposed to."
Oliver frowned. Even back when this argument had started, he hadn't imagined it had anything to do with their failed relationship. "I don't know what that means," he said. "Also, what do… we… have to do with Gray and Aspen?"
"I'm getting there, I just… need to set up context first. I've been thinking about this a lot lately." Rubbing her eyes, she took a breath to reset herself. "No matter how mad I was, no matter how much you hurt me, I never wanted to break up with you. I loved you too much."
Oliver put his back against the wall and sat down beside her. "But…"
"…but I felt like if I didn't, I would be doing something wrong. I felt like there needed to be consequences even if I didn't actually want them. That's why I kept working with you; I tried to compromise. Just because we couldn't be together didn't mean we couldn't stay together. It worked for a while, but I never really… I never really stopped loving you. It started to become too much for me to handle, so I decided I needed to leave. I was going to, but then…"
"…Gray died." The pieces were starting to come together.
Laurel nodded. "When I got the news and you showed up at my door, I knew I couldn't leave. No matter how I felt, you still needed me to be there for you." She brushed a few stray tears away from her eyes. "I'm sure you can fill in the rest."
Oliver thought he could, too. Laurel had been planning to leave again, or at least been thinking about it. When they'd found Aspen, though, she'd stayed to try and get him to see the warning signs that she saw, even if it meant struggling with still being… in…
Oh.
Reaching out, Oliver found Laurel's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her skin was cool beneath his, a consequence of her Semblance. "I'm sorry for being such an idiot," he said, running his thumb over her fingers. "I never realized… well, any of that, and I've taken you for granted. Thank you for being here."
Laurel stayed silent for a while, and Oliver thought he might have misread the situation until she finally squeezed his hand in return. "Apology accepted," she said through a few sniffles.
They sat there for several minutes, individually sifting through the pent-up emotions of the last few weeks and the exhaustion brought along with it. Eventually, it was Oliver who broke the silence. "I still don't know what to feel about Aspen. I trust you, and you trust her, but I don't know how to look past her being a Grimm."
"Well, first you need to stop calling her a Grimm," Laurel said, fixing him with a serious look. "She's a rephaite, and there's a big difference between them. Second—" Her gaze softened. "—talk to her. She might not always show it openly, but she respects you. I don't think she's ever even lied to either one of us."
Except about being a Gri—rephaite. Oliver sighed. "And what about you? What do you see in her that makes you trust her so much?"
"You." Laurel smiled when Oliver looked at her in confusion. Her gaze fell, however, and her eyes turned sad. "She blames herself for everything that's happened to her. She thinks she deserves to be treated like a weapon, a monster." She squeezed his hand. "She said we were right to threaten to kill her."
Oliver's heart dropped. For a moment, any thought of Aspen being inhuman vanished from his mind and he was struck with the need to hold her and tell her she had as much right to life as anyone.
"That right there. That compassion. That's what I see in her." Laurel loosened her grip on Oliver's hand, only to interlace their fingers. "Maybe she's not really human, but I can't imagine what she'd be like if you hadn't been there for her."
Oliver sighed, taking comfort in Laurel's touch. It felt like an eternity since they had just… been, with no tension between them. It felt better than he deserved. "Since when have you been so insightful?"
Laurel hummed to herself. "I think I've always been the thing you needed most."
"Don't say it like that," Oliver said, shaking his head. Laurel gave him a questioning look. "It makes you sound like you're only here to support me." Disentangling their hands, he pushed himself to his feet, then helped her up as well. "We're partners. We'll always support each other."
(- -)
Rhys watched in stillness as Tawny awkwardly laid a hand on Aspen's shoulder before following Mantis out of the room. He hadn't entirely followed the argument, but the two hunters apparently had decided to take it out into the hallway. While Rhys was grateful for the release of uncomfortable energy, he was back where he'd been ten minutes ago, only with Aspen and Professor Goodwitch instead of Ilex, Carmine, and Mantis which… Yeah. Still awkward.
Just when Rhys was starting to feel antsy, however, Aspen's legs seemed to give out beneath her. Rhys jumped to his feet but, being closer, Professor Goodwitch got to her first. Kneeling beside Aspen, the woman gingerly rested one hand on her shoulder. Aspen didn't even look up, but Rhys could see her hair moving in front of her face as she talked. After several seconds, Professor Goodwitch stood up. Sparing a brief look at Rhys, she sighed and returned to the desk.
Rhys looked back and forth between Aspen and Professor Goodwitch, uncertain of what he should do. Even if he did know what they'd said, he wasn't sure if he would be able to help. Making people feel better had never been his strong suit buuuuuuuut…Aspen was his partner. And she was a friend. Had been a friend. Was maybe still a friend. Deep down, that was really all he wanted, and sitting in place wasn't going to help any.
Shuffling out from behind the desk, Rhys walked over to Aspen. She had barely moved since she'd fallen and yet, as he grew closer, something about her positioning made him increasingly uncomfortable. She was more like one of Gwen's dolls than a real person, slumped down as if her legs had been cut out from underneath her and unnaturally still. It helped to be able to see she was still breathing, though.
Aspen didn't even react when Rhys sat down in front of her, though he did notice her eyes shift just enough to see his hands. That felt like a good sign. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Slowly—agonizingly so—Aspen raised one hand, extended her first two fingers and thumb, and closed them together. "No."
Rhys frowned. It was the obvious answer, but at least she was talking and telling the truth. "What's wrong?"
Aspen raised both hands this time. With only her index fingers out, she pointed them at one another and twisted her hands back and forth in opposite directions. "Hurt."
That would explain why she fell down. "Where?" He'd tried to read up on basic first aid since he'd accidentally blown her up but, in light of what Professor Goodwitch had said about Rephaim, he wasn't sure if that would actually help right now.
One hand dropped, and the other drew in toward Aspen's chest. One claw tapped against her breastplate. "Here."
Rhys looked at her in confusion. Why would a pain in her chest make her legs stop oh, it's not her chest. She wasn't hurting physically. Duh. "Is it because we found out what you are?" he guessed. She'd been like this since she came in—since last night, really—so that made the most sense to him.
Aspen's hands shook as she signed a string of words. "Fear. Distrust. My fault." She grimaced, her first actual expression, and drew a fist up under her chin. "Undependable," she signed, bringing her hand down to cross one index finger over the other. She then bent her hand in a right angle and made a scraping motion across the underside of her chin. "Liar."
"No," Rhys snapped, sticking his hand right in Aspen's face. She drew back reflexively, but her grimace remained. "You're a good partner. You're strong and smart and a good fighter and good at getting people to keep fighting and you speak sign language. You're cool."
Aspen's grimace slowly turned into a look of confusion. "I don't… understand," she signed, her movements much more fluid now. "What does my… temperature have to do with any of that?"
Rhys laughed, rocking back almost to the point of falling over. "No, I mean that all those things are good things that I like about you, and you should be proud of who you are."
Aspen's brow furrowed. "So you say… but I hurt the others by lying to them. They are afraid."
"Nah." Rhys waved his hand dismissively. "Maybe a little angry and mopey, but eventually they'll stop thinking so much and realize you're a good person."
"And what about you?" Aspen asked. She met his eyes with some hesitance. "You are not angry or… mopey."
"I trust you."
"You did not trust me last night."
Rhys frowned. Last night he'd… Well, things had been complicated last night. And unexpected. Unexpectedly complicated. It wasn't fair to judge someone under those kinds of circumstances. "I know, and I'm sorry. I just…" The problem wasn't the lie, he realized, or that she felt like she had to lie to begin with. The problem was that he wanted her to trust him and she hadn't. It would have been selfish of him to expect the same confidence he had in her so soon after meeting and, given how everyone had reacted—himself included—she had probably been right to keep her identity a secret. "I trust you now," he signed, straightening his back as much as he was able, "and I want you to feel like you can trust me."
Aspen dropped her head, hiding her eyes from Rhys. She did raise her hands in front of her chest, but Rhys didn't recognize it as a sign, so he guessed she was looking at them. After about ten seconds of this, she put them back down by her sides, only to adjust her legs to what Rhys thought looked like a more comfortable sitting position. Looking up again, Aspen raised a flattened hand up near her chin. "Thank you," she signed. Her accompanying smile was obviously forced, but Rhys could tell the sentiment behind it was genuine.
"You're welcome," Rhys signed, smiling broadly. It wasn't a commitment, but he wasn't going to press.
Aspen stilled, turning her head to look up at the classroom door. It seemed like a safe bet that she was looking out at Mantis and Tawny. Maybe she was even listening to them. Apparently, she had pretty sharp ears, and it wasn't like Rhys could hear how loudly they were talking. He would have been content to leave her to it—he had helped after all!—but something important popped into his head, something he hadn't gotten the chance to ask the day before. Now seemed as good a time as any. He tapped Aspen on the shoulder to get her attention.
"Can I look at your armor?"
(- -)
When Oliver and Laurel came back into the classroom, Aspen was sitting on the floor, passively allowing Rhys to poke at and run his fingers over the Grimm plates on her armor. Meanwhile, Headmistress Goodwitch sat behind the desk occupying herself with work on her scroll. All three looked up at them, but Oliver's eyes were naturally drawn to Aspen.
It was far too easy to look at her and see an emotionless being: the neutral expression, the pale skin, the red eyes. She had emotions, though, Oliver reminded himself. Even when he thought she was human, it had never been an assumption. She'd expressed fear, embarrassment, sadness, and even joy. Maybe she didn't express them as clearly as other people like Laurel said, but they were there. It only took a little bit of effort to see the worry and pain in her eyes. She wasn't Grimm; she was Rephaim.
As if sensing his inner conflict—and what reason did Oliver have to think she hadn't?—Laurel reached up and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before giving him a gentle push. He moved with the action, descending the steps toward the front of the room. What was he going to say, I'm going to try to trust you? That made it sound like he didn't trust her. Not to say that he did, but he didn't want to point it out. Also, that left the possibility that maybe he wouldn't trust her, and…
Any thoughts of phrasing dissipated from Oliver's mind when he stopped in front of Aspen. Even standing over six feet tall and armored like a Grimm, it was remarkable to Oliver how small she looked standing there, looking up at him with the smallest pinch of fear in her brow. This wasn't a Beowolf, or an Ursai, or a Kepher. This was the girl who once promised him she didn't want to hurt anyone. The girl who'd called herself a monster when she did. The girl he'd promised to support regardless of her choices.
Oliver held his arms out, but left it up to Aspen to accept the embrace. She took a half-step back, eyes never losing their worry as she scanned his face. Was she feeling his aura, trying to work out his intentions? He didn't even know if that was how her ability worked, but he focused in on what he wanted as strongly as he could: making things right between them.
Moments later, something seemed to break in Aspen's eyes and she lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Oliver's chest. Her armor dug into his skin, but he paid it no mind. Bringing his arms around her, Oliver tightened their embrace further. Aspen's body shook against his with unsteady breathing. While he'd seen her cry before, this was the closest he'd seen her to sobbing, even with no tears. Oliver struggled to swallow as he raised one hand to cradle her head, buried in his shoulder.
"I'm sorry."
I know this isn't the most timely declaration in regards to this chapter but, God, I love Rhys. He is such a good boy with such a distinctive voice. I may have had a bit too much fun writing him this chapter.
When I wrote the notes last chapter about giving characters room to exist independent of the others, I definitely had this chapter in mind. Bringing in Rhys's family was a deliberate choice because, out of all the characters, I feel like I've neglected him the most. For everyone else, I've at least laid the groundwork to explain why they are the way they are, but Rhys never really had that before now.
Obviously, the other main component of this chapter was Oliver and Laurel finally talking about their argument from back in Chapter 17 (uh… wow, I can't believe it's been that long, literally the midpoint as of this chapter). Where trying to write Oliver and Ilex being angry at and distrustful of Aspen was difficult, shall we say, the rest of that scene just flowed. It was the kind of scene where you can come up with awesome lines before writing them, only to drop them for even better lines. I'm still not sure I handled everything exactly as I would like, but I still like it quite a lot.
Alright. Three down, three to go (I know what I said). It's not an easy process, but everyone is dealing with the revelation that Aspen isn't human. Next chapter we'll see how Ilex and Carmine are taking it.
Au revoir!
