Chapter Twenty-Three
Ozpin floated.
Or maybe he was drifting.
Why. Do. You. Keep. Coming. Back?
The world was hazy and fractured.
You're not isolated, you're not miserable!
Fragments of patterns, disjointed and smeared, something he understood but didn't.
That's 'cause you're oblivious, Oz.
Cold. He was cold. It was dark and light. Patterns swirled around him, too fast to see or comprehend. He knew this glow, saw it so often in his apprenticeship. But never this fractured, never this incomprehensible.
He's not a resource! He's my father!
Everything stitched together and pulled apart.
Why. Do. You. Keep. Coming. Back?
A pattern he understood.
Choice.
It was always about choice. A soothsayer guided, a person chose. Ozpin always chose. He chose not to be miserable. He chose not to be alone. He chose to follow the future his master had seen. He chose to find a different future.
He chose to have a child, though there had been none originally in his pattern. A child that he loved with all his heart. A child who became his apprentice. A child who would be the greatest soothsayer of his generation. A child he treasured so very much.
"Os...car…"
Hearing his own voice, Ozpin opened his eyes, aware.
The room he was in was both familiar and not. Something from hazy dreams. But he recognized this kind of layout. Hospital. He was in a hospital.
Groaning, Ozpin reached up to his face, wishing to rub his eyes. Even doing that much drained him.
Backbreaker. He must have had a recurrence.
How long? How long had he been like this?
Oscar?
… Qrow?
Surely, they'd be by his side. The son he loved and was so proud of. A beloved that he'd found after decades of loneliness.
He looked around again. Darkness. It was the middle of the night? Or was it something else? Thinking and piecing things together took effort. He was exhausted. But he also saw that he was alone.
Isolation and Misery.
Ozpin cried. He choked down a sob, reminded himself that it was probably the middle of the night, but the tears wouldn't stop. He was alone. He was all alone. Alone in the hospital. Alone with backbreaker. Alone in the night.
Isolation and Misery.
He cried until he fell unconscious.
There was more haziness. A hum in his blood. Patterns drawn around him that he didn't understand…
Magic. His magic was active.
He closed it, and that effort left him unconscious.
This happened again.
And again.
When he woke it was dark again. A moon in the window… shining off of… snow.
Winter.
Wasn't it autumn?
How long?
His blood started to hum and he closed the magic before it could activate. The effort left him sweating and gasping.
Where was Oscar?
Where was Qrow?
He fell asleep crying again.
When he awoke, he felt the dried tear tracks from the night before. His blood hummed, and he held his magic shut. It was easier this time.
He heard the soft click of a door, and turned to see a nurse in hospital red come in, covered in waxed clothes and goggles as he was all too familiar with from the last time he'd had backbreaker.
He tried to speak. His voice was a raspy wheeze.
"Good morning," the nurse greeted. "It's time for breakfast. We'll get you seated in a chair this morning."
He tried to say something again, and just had a raspy wheeze.
Where was Oscar? Qrow?
Breakfast was broth, and the nurse fed it to him one spoonful at a time. She chattered away, seemingly unaware that he was awake, meaning that this was just a routine for her.
How long was he here?
… Was backbreaker the last straw? Did Qrow not want to be with someone who was so ill? Did Oscar seek out a different teacher?
Why. Do. You. Keep. Coming. Back?
Choice.
Ozpin resolved himself. He had a choice. It was always his choice. He may be cursed with a Grimm, cursed to isolation and misery, but he always chose to step away from that. He chose to seek out company. He chose to seek out joy. It was why the Grimm kept striking him down. And if he had survived again like it seemed he had… Well, he was still going to choose.
He would keep choosing to reach out.
The nurse wiped broth from his chin, since Ozpin didn't have the strength to hold much.
But he was resolved.
"I… need… a messenger… crow…"
"Oh! You're awake! Oh, good for you," the nurse smiled. "You want to contact someone? The general will be seeing you later like usual."
General?
James.
Choice.
No.
"Qrow…" but his strength left him. He was unconscious.
He awoke again, held his magic closed, and looked around. Evening?
"Ah, you're awake."
Another nurse was by him, and he was indeed sitting by the window. He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry and raspy. It felt like he'd been giving a lecture for hours.
"Just a second, let's help you eat."
He suffered the indignity of being fed, but he took pride in pretending to hold the bowl for himself. He also silently thanked the brothers that he still had mobility in his arms. His bad leg looked hideous, the bulbous protrusions even bigger than he last remembered them.
"Messenger… crow," he rasped.
"Don't you worry," the nurse said, wiping some soup from his chin. "We'll get you one. One of the towel boys can be a scribe for you."
There would be no scribe.
Ozpin's mind was alert, and exhausted and drained as he was, he liked to think that he was intelligent enough to gather what was going on around him. If James was visiting… Well, Ozpin didn't want James to know who he considered important. He'd write the message himself.
Crowmaster Branwen, do you know where my apprentice is? Are you still grinding herbs? Professor Ozma
It was written in Valean, of course. Valean was easier for Ozpin to write in his weakened state, and… Qrow had a niece… nieces, plural… who could translate.
The towel boy brought the crow and paper, but Ozpin already had his message. He tied it to the crow's leg and rubbed a shaking finger gently along the crown as he'd seen Qrow do numerous times before.
Of course, this was all too much effort and he was out immediately after.
He dreamed.
What are you doing?
He's not a resource! That's my father!
Why. Do. You. Keep. Coming. Back?
That's 'cause you're oblivious, Oz.
You're so oblivious it hurts.
You're not isolated, you're not miserable! I swear!
You're under arrest for treason.
Why. Do. You Keep. Coming. Back?
Choice.
Choice.
Ozpin woke up with the sun. With great effort, he sat himself up in bed. The nurse who came in smiled beneath her waxed mask. "This keeps up, and you'll be taken out of Infections."
"I rather hope so," he replied, raspy. "Have I had visitors during my stay?" Please...
"You're apprentice was here daily, every morning until some time ago," the nurse said, spooning him his broth.
Oscar… "Some time" ago? Why would his son stop seeing him? What happened?
"And of course, the soothers from the palace would spend most of the day with you."
Soothers?
Ozpin frowned, mind awhirl. "How long have I been here?"
"Hmmm, I think you came a bit after the autumn equinox… It's about two weeks till the start of spring."
He sighed, tears in his eyes again. "All winter?"
The nurse nodded sadly.
Ozpin started crying again against his will. A whole season. A whole season. The last time he'd had backbreaker, he'd lost only a month of time, and even that had been a shock. A whole season.
"It's okay. It's okay, let it all out."
The nurse comforted him, letting him cry. Gently rubbing his shoulder and offering meaningless words.
Ozpin took in a shuddering breath.
"It was touch and go for a while," the nurse said softly. "The head injury was worrisome."
Head injury?
Why. Do. You. Keep. Coming. Back?
Choice.
Salem was alive. She was a maker. She had put the Grimm over him. He remembered.
Oscar!
Do you have a lover?
Qrow!
He passed out.
He dimly heard voices above him. A general. A client. An apprentice.
Oscar?
No… someone from years ago…
He woke up in the morning, feeling drained and exhausted, his magic humming and opening almost before he could catch it and hold it close.
He sat up again.
Ozpin remembered recovery last time. He knew what worked on his body and what didn't. While he waited for the nurse to deliver breakfast, he started to do exercises to try and restore anything to a body that was far too thin and weak. He didn't bother looking at his bad leg. He focused on his arms, needing to be able to feed himself and write another message to Qrow. What had happened to Oscar? Why had he stopped coming?
He dutifully let his nurse feed him breakfast, but she let him hold his own spoon for a few bites. She set him in a chair by the window and he continued to work on his arms until he could no longer lift them. Then, after resting, he started his exercises again. Oscar. Qrow. He felt the flush of fever sprout in his chest and spread. No! And then he knew nothing.
He awoke back in his bed, feeling drained and exhausted.
Hmmm, was his magic opening? He felt like he'd been giving readings…
He worked on his exercises. He had his dinner and endured being bathed. And for the first time, he fell asleep because he chose to.
Why. Do. You. Keep. Coming. Back?
Choice.
He wouldn't. He wouldn't accept being isolated and miserable.
Before, he had just felt so tired of the Grimm that he'd reached out in desperation.
Now. Now he was reaching out because he knew. It was a choice to succumb to isolation and misery. It was a choice to submit to depression. It was a choice to give up on everything. When he'd reached out before, when he'd gone to Haven and made friends at the university, when he'd sought out company and when he'd taught all his apprentices or students, he'd partially gone through the motions of what life should be like, partially sought escape from the Grimm over him, partially participated in life. Now he was choosing actively. He chose to not let the hatred that had been cast to him control his life.
The Grimm wanted him to be Isolated. The Grimm wanted him to be Miserable.
Salem wanted him to suffer.
He wouldn't play her game.
Oscar. Qrow.
He chose to keep reaching out. He chose to chase after the happiness he had found.
It wouldn't be easy.
The Grimm would likely strike him down again.
But he would choose happiness over the Grimm. He would for the rest of his life.
He woke up feeling rested, sat up with some ease, and started exercising again. He was even able to feed himself under the nurse's watchful eye.
He was sat by the window again, and he did his exercises again.
He was resting, looking out at the clear blue sky, wondering why he hadn't heard back from Qrow. It had been… three days, hadn't it? Or was it four? The fever spikes left him with little sense of time. Was he still in Haven? Or had he been transported somewhere else? That seemed unlikely, but why else would a messenger crow take so long?
He leaned back and rested his eyes, thinking. Should he send out another crow? He had an address for Qrow, that was easiest. Messenger crows went from post to post. But was Oscar still there? Had he gone to a different soothsayer to continue his training?
He had so little information.
Ozpin heard the door of his room open, and he just stayed where he was, resting. It was likely another nurse coming to ask what he wished for lunch or something. That's how it went the last time he had backbreaker, and the warm sun on his face was a moment of peace and respite that he was enjoying.
Choice.
He would seek happiness. He would seek company.
And taking a moment to sit in peace and just feel the sun gave him a small spark of joy he wished to pursue while he could.
A table was wheeled in from the sounds of it.
Then someone grabbed his hand.
How rude.
Ozpin sat up, opened his eyes, and let his jaw drop.
"Vernal?" And standing behind her… "James?"
And a sand reader in front of him.
His magic hummed as he wondered what the brothers' fye and filth was going on?
His unintended use of magic left him drained and he sagged forward, but he'd seen the patterns.
"How dare you," he gasped. "Get out! Both of you get out now!"
"Oz," Ironwood said with such warmth. "It's so good to see you awake."
"Don't you dare, General. Don't you dare. You are not welcome here. And Vernal, I expected you to know better."
"Oz," Ironwood said, "you're clearly confused. You've had backbreaker now-"
"Since I fell," Ozpin replied coldly. "And in my fever my magic has been out of control. And despite my very clear wishes to have no part in this war, you bring in my old students to use my open magic? Get out!"
"You're clearly still delusional," Ironwood said sadly, stepping forward and reaching out.
Ozpin knocked the hand away with his little strength. "I said you need to leave."
"Shut up," Vernal said. "We're all stuck in this war. We've all lost people. It needs to end. You've got more power in you than anyone back at base. We need you."
"It does not work like that," Ozpin said. "I showed you the histories, what happens when someone becomes a soothmaker. You can't pretend to tread the realm of the Brothers like this. A price will be exacted. Someone who wishes ill on someone else, someone who tries to make the ill, pushes out hatred and darkness into the world. Doing that in the middle of a war?"
Vernal narrowed her eyes. "I don't need to explain a cursed thing to you. You just need to do the job you've been doing."
"I will not-Ah!"
Ironwood had pinched his neck, a bundle of nerves, raw pain…
Darkness.
Ozpin awoke in darkness. The middle of the night.
And he sobbed all over again.
Isolation and Misery.
Oscar. Qrow.
All the soothsayers he'd seen at the palace… All making instead of saying… It had been a whole season. How long had Ironwood been trying to read the war?
Isolation and Misery.
He passed out crying.
The next day, he scratched at his dried tear tracks and reminded himself.
Choice.
After breakfast, he spoke to his nurse. "Might I see my doctor? I'd like to know more about how I've been."
The nurse shook his head. "Sorry, but your doctor only comes up once a week. It's hard for him in the chair."
Chair. Pietro.
Connection.
Not isolation.
"I see," he said, as the nurse helped him to the chair. "When will he next be in?"
"It's hard to say. The riots in the foothills have been rough. There was another big one last night. I don't know if he can even get up here. It's a long ride."
"Hm. And might I ask where here is?"
The nurse blinked. "Oh, you don't know?"
He shook his head. "I remember falling. Then I was here."
"Well, filth, I'm sorry! You're in Higanbana."
His jaw dropped again.
"Higanbana?"
"Yes, the general insisted. It is the best hospital in the city."
James, you manipulative, controlling fool. You've lost your heart.
"I see." Deep breath. "Might I know who's been cleared to visit me?"
The nurse nodded. "Your apprentice, though I don't think I've seen him for quite a while. The general and his soothers. Only about seven people."
Osar had been able to see him. But not Qrow.
Qrow…
Please don't be suffering for this.
Why hadn't he heard back?
"May I amend that list?"
The nurse rubbed his chin. "That usually requires the doctor's approval. I know your apprentice signed off on letting the general and his soothers through, but you were still out of it then."
Oscar? Why?
Isolation and Misery.
Choice.
Ozpin could not assume. He just needed to ask. If Oscar or Qrow wanted nothing to do with him, he'd deal with it then. But for now, he would not assume and fall into isolation and misery. He would not give Salem that. He would not subject himself to that.
"Tell you what, I'll go get the list and we can go over it."
"I'd appreciate that a great deal."
He removed every name from the list but Oscar's.
"I realize I'm still in the Infectious Ward. I personally think it's better to limit my visitors to my apprentice. Perhaps once I am out of the ward I can see others."
"That sounds reasonable to me. I'll ask the head nurse."
That would cut off the drain of his magic.
That should prevent Ironwood from using him like a tool.
That would also isolate him.
Choice.
Ozpin spent his day exercising, resting, and exercising again. He fed himself lunch and dinner.
He suffered through the bath.
And he slept.
And he woke up refreshed.
The day was more of the same.
No one came to see him.
But he was confident of his arms. Aside from just being bedridden for months, and the weakness from that, his arms still had full mobility, and range of motion.
So he exhausted himself by exercising not only his arms, but moving his ankles. The fact that he could move both ankles was pure relief. His good leg could still bend. His bad knee was a hideous mess. The bulbous growths were larger, his leg felt heavier, and there were fresh scars from, as one of the nurses explained, draining the acid in the growths.
He wanted his strength back.
He fell asleep exhausted from exercising all day.
When Ozpin next awoke, it was to a hand in his hair. He blinked his eyes open, slowly, wondering why he was feeling such a strange but familiar sensation. It was moonlight. A thumb caressing his temple, and he turned.
Eyes wide.
This was a dream.
This must be a dream.
"Qrow!" He reached up and pulled his beloved as close to him as his pitiful strength would allow. "Qrow! Beloved! Please let this be real!"
And Qrow laughed, warm, and deep, and squeezed him back. "Hey Oz," he whispered in his ear.
Ozpin pulled back enough to stare, smiling, letting joy and happiness and not misery bubble up within him. He ran both hands through graying hair, and pulled him in close again. He wanted to kiss him!
Qrow laughed again, and there was a hitch of a sob attached. "Glad to see you too."
"Qrow! You're alright! Salem hasn't gotten to you has she? Oh, you don't know who she is-"
Qrow held up a hand, placing a finger over Ozpin's masked face.
"We'll talk more later," he said quietly. "For now, I'm staging a jailbreak. We're getting you out of here."
"We?"
"I'll explain once we're safe."
"Oscar-"
"Once we're safe." Qrow stared at him, eyes glittering in unshed tears, and then Ozpin was crushed in a hug that he wished he had the strength to return. "Pietro will check you out once we get there."
Ozpin nodded. "I'm ready when you are, beloved."
"Fye and filth, Oz. You are dangerous, you know that?"
"And without a mortar or pestle, this time."
Qrow choked.
It had started when Qrow thought he'd heard Ruby cry out on the roof.
Granted, Qrow had been down at the stand by the ramp. He was certain he was hearing things. Ruby needed time with the crows and he was waiting for Robyn to drop by.
Then Ruby had leaned over the roof.
"Uncle Qrow! We have to go!"
"What?" he called up, confused. But she wasn't over the roof any more. He turned back to the customer and slowly noted down the message request in the forms, checking his writing and spelling since he was so miserable at this part. Then he turned to the next customer. He'd bring these messages up at midday when he traded places with Ruby.
Ren stepped up, another message for Valkyrie.
"If she's not writing back, why keep bothering her?" Qrow asked.
"I…" Ren actually blushed. "I got a response. I think it's taking a while for my message to reach her."
"Right."
He listed the message, setting it in the tray he'd bring up when Ruby came bursting out the back door of the building.
"Uncle Qrow! We need to move!"
"Ruby, what the filth are you-"
She grabbed his arm and started tugging. "Come on! We need to go now!"
"Ruby!"
"It's an emergency!"
Ren actually chuckled. "If you want, I'll collect messages for you. I already know your prices."
Qrow didn't really have much say in the matter as Ruby had kept tugging at him. But for all that Qrow was fed up with Imperials, Ren was a good kid. This, he could trust him with.
"Fye and filth, Ruby, what's all the urgency?"
"We'll talk where it's safe, now come on! We need to get to Yang and Weiss! We need to… By the Light Brother, there's so much we need to do!"
Ruby was pressing so much she almost took off running at top speed. Only Qrow grabbing the hood of her heavy coat stopped her from completely taking off.
"If we're talking safe, then running isn't safe. It will draw attention."
"Oh, of course, but we need to-"
"Hurry, I know. I heard you the first time." He whistled and one of his crows drifted down. "Why don't you message Yang and let her know we're coming? That way Weiss can clean out any Atleseans if she needs to. Or should we meet at the bolthole?"
It turned out they could meet at Weiss's house, a modest family home with a wall encasing a garden. Qrow had been here only twice before during the winter, providing messages that weren't fit for going by crow.
"Professor Ozpin sent a message!" Ruby shouted once they were settled in the sitting room.
"What?" Qrow demanded, standing up. "What's it say? Is he okay?"
"He must know something's wrong," Ruby said, handing over the message. "He wrote it in Valean. It's also so vague as to be nothing. He addressed it to you, Uncle Qrow. He wants to 'know where his apprentice is'. The second part makes no sense, he asked if you're still 'grinding herbs'."
Warmth and hope blossomed in Qrow's chest and burned outwards through the rest of him. His lips split into an honest and sincere smile for the first time in what felt like months.
Grinding herbs. Their moment of declarations and a tumble that Qrow had held onto through the cold of winter. Did he still grind herbs? Did he still love Ozpin?
"Fye and filth, you bet your ass I do!"
"Wait, he hasn't been told anything about Oscar?" Yang cut in. "That's his son, why hasn't anyone said he's been arrested?"
"Remember, snapdragon," Qrow said, "we don't want the general to use that against them. To everyone at the hospital, Oscar's just his apprentice. Even Pietro reinforces that."
Weiss set down her teacup firmly. "We need to get Professor Ozma out of there. Winter messaged me: she doesn't see it but it's getting worse up there. The lieutenant who tried to help Oscar is still in the stockade. If the General knows that Professor Ozma is awake…"
"He'll use Oscar and the other soothsayers to try and drag him into cursing people," Qrow finished. "So we need to stage a jailbreak."
"But wait," Ruby asked. "Won't he still be sick? I mean, is he still infectious?"
"This is why we have a bolthole," Qrow replied. "But we will need to get Pietro involved in this."
"Then you need to message him and tell him we're coming to the rescue!" Ruby beamed.
"All crows at the palace are monitored," Yang retorted. "Or have you forgotten how hard it is for your birds to get to Oscar now?"
"But the Professor is at the hospital."
Qrow shook his head. "No, we need to be smart about this. We don't want that General getting wind of this at all."
So they planned.
Qrow worked to keep his hope down. He reminded himself that there were a million ways this could go wrong, that it would definitely go wrong, and that he should prepare for the worst.
Pietro was brought to the bolthole.
Yang got a dayjob running a rickshaw.
And Qrow was the largest among them with the best chance of being able to help Ozpin get out.
Weiss was able to get him the red waxed clothes of a nurse.
Once they were all set, they staged the breakout. Qrow walked in with other nightshift nurses, went to the Infectious Ward, and kept a low profile.
He found Oz asleep. And he was so thin. Oscar had mentioned in his messages that being bedridden had left Oz wasting away and it showed. If Ren and his squad were skeletal, Oz was a skeleton.
Brothers. He hadn't seen him in months. All of winter. He looked so cursed weak now. He could only reach out and run a hand through Ozpin's hair, wishing so much for Oz to be okay.
Oz had woken up and the sheer delight and joy upon seeing Qrow was enough for Qrow's heart to start filling with hope again.
Ozpin had apparently learned the gift of innuendo while he was unconscious and fevered.
"You're not strong enough for that stuff yet," Qrow said firmly.
Ozpin sighed. "Nor well enough. But I love you. I want that clear."
"Abundantly." Qrow smiled. He had brought some of Ozpin's clothes and his heavy winter coat. They worked in near silence getting him dressed and Qrow could only hope that Ozpin would be warm enough. He had no meat on him. The pants were difficult to get on over the backbreaker deposits, and if Ozpin's face was any indication, it was painfully tight around his bad knee.
"Just a little bit, Oz," he whispered. "Just till we're safe."
Ozpin couldn't walk. That much was obvious just from looking at him. But Qrow had planned on that anyway. He had grabbed one of the fancy wheeling chairs that the hospital had and helped Ozpin into it. Going through the halls wasn't much of a problem. Pietro had outlined where the nurse stations were and Qrow could navigate around them for the most part. The main entrance was going to be the hard part. They had to wait in a shadowed alcove for way longer than Qrow wanted until the person at the front desk walked away.
Yang was outside, woven hat low over her face, and rubbing at her arm under her brown coat. She helped Ozpin into the rickshaw, pulling out the mass of blankets that Ruby and Weiss had insisted on. Qrow disappeared long enough to set the chair with others that were set by the entrance, and then joined Ozpin in the back of the rickshaw.
"This will be a long ride, Oz," Qrow whispered.
"How far down the mountain are we going?"
"We won't get to the foothills. We have a bolthole."
Ozpin shivered and Qrow put an arm around him. "I have many questions. I've missed a great deal."
"We'll catch you up."
"Where's Oscar?"
Qrow squeezed him tightly. "The general drafted him."
"He's too young. The draft age is eighteen."
"It's sixteen now."
"Brothers of Light and Dark."
"He's been sending word regularly. He got to visit you every day. He wrote about always closing your magic."
Ozpin nodded, his face pinched.
"He wasn't allowed to leave the palace for anything except to see you."
"But you got word?"
Qrow gave a rakish grin, not that it could be seen under his mask. "My crows are the best."
"Hmm," Ozpin's eyes glittered. "I suspect that my qrow is best."
"By the brothers, I'm still here!" Yang growled. "I don't want to know!"
"... So Oscar has limited movement."
Qrow grit his teeth. "More than that. He found out that they were using you. He fought back. He's been arrested."
"General, you unmitigated fool." Ozpin looked at Qrow, eyes blazing with anger. "How do we get him back?"
"That's part of the massive amount of things we need to fill you in on," Qrow said. "And I'll be honest, Oz, you aren't looking so good right now."
"I know," his lover said. "I can feel the fever trying to spike. I suspect I'm still contagious, but my bouts of fever won't be so bad now that the General isn't draining me dry."
"You can let go, Oz," Qrow said softly. "I'll be here when you wake up."
"I will when we're safe," he said. "When the fever spikes, I'm not sure I can hold my magic shut. Letting go out here in the cold would only make that worse." He shivered again, and Qrow adjusted the blankets.
Almost an hour later, they arrived at the bolthole.
Like Weiss's home, it was surrounded by a walled garden that ensured privacy and prevented anyone from sneaking in easily. That hadn't stopped Yang from climbing over when she'd found the place, breaking the lock, and then replacing it with one they had keys for. Yang let them in and Qrow lifted Ozpin out of the rickshaw, surprised at just how light he was.
"I'll go return this," Yang headed out again.
Pietro met them at the door, wheeling his chair and guiding Qrow to a downstairs office that had a banked stove and a cot already set up for Oz.
Ozpin looked around, eyes clearly starting to droop with exhaustion. Qrow pulled over a chair and held Ozpin's hand. His lover smiled, and turned to Pietro. "If you don't mind," he said thickly. "I think I'm going to pass out for the examination."
Pietro gave a warm smile. "You go right on ahead. I'll ask all my questions when you wake up."
Ozpin nodded and fell asleep. Almost immediately, Qrow felt Ozpin's hands warm.
"It's fine, Oz," he murmured, leaning forward to brush hair out of Ozpin's face. "You don't need your magic right now. You need rest first."
The following morning, Qrow stayed in that office-turned bedroom. He held onto Ozpin's hand and offered soft words of encouragement.
"It's safe, Oz. You don't need your magic."
Then Qrow's own fingers felt warm for a moment, and Ozpin's hands cooled off.
In the morning light, Pietro asked for Qrow to provide some privacy so that he could do a proper exam. Qrow took that time to ditch the hospital garb, wash up thoroughly, hands, face, arms, and collapse for a bit.
He woke to pecking at his ear. That was enough to get him up again. He washed up again, uncertain if he'd done so the night before, and went to the kitchen where Yang was getting lunch.
"Hey," he greeted.
"Hey," she replied. "I'm beat. I need more sleep. But it feels so good to know that the Professor is safe now."
"It certainly does. Pietro still in there?"
"Yup. He and Penny are discussing things."
Qrow poured himself some tea, poured some for Ozpin, and pulled up his mask, heading for the office.
Ozpin was still asleep, but once Qrow held his hand, those warm brown eyes opened. They flashed gold for a moment, and when Oz looked at Qrow, his face brightened with the same joy as it had when he saw him last night.
Qrow thought his heart might burst.
"Not a dream," Oz said, hoisting himself up.
"Not at all," Pietro said, wheeling over. "Let's get some food in you first. Now since we don't have what a hospital does, Qrow, that means we need to leave our dear professor here. As long as his mask is off, we're not in the room."
Qrow wanted to protest, but Ozpin squeezed his hand, nodding encouragingly.
Returning to the kitchen, he washed up and sat down with Yang for lunch. He went back to the things he'd brought over the day before in preparation for the jailbreak. He pulled out a battered envelope, held it in his hands, considering. Then he slid it into his haori. He'd been working on it since Ozpin's message came through.
He joined Pietro back in the office when Ozpin was done eating.
The prognosis was good so far. Given that Ozpin was conscious, aware, responsive, and focused all indicated that he was on the road to recovery. The draining they had done regularly had prevented the fever from spreading to other parts of his body for deposits, but his knee was visibly more deformed. Instead of being straight as a post, there was now a slight unnatural bend outward by only a few degrees. The broken bones from the fall were healed and strong, and the head injury seemed to have no adverse effects beyond the scar in his hairline.
"You're still not out of the tundra," Pietro said, rubbing at his eyes. "Your fever is still trying to spike. It drains a lot out of you when it does. But those instances are, from what you've told me, decreasing. I want you to keep with the mask since we don't know how backbreaker spreads. It's frankly a miracle that more cases haven't cropped up from everyone who's been around you."
"Thank you, Pietro," Ozpin said. "I'm glad that you're here."
"Oh, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here till you're better. Continue the exercises you're doing."
"I shall."
Pietro sat back in his chair, pulling off his cap and rubbing at his bare head. "Qrow's been quite the little spymaster. He can fill you in on what's been going on. I need some sleep."
"Thank you."
As Pietro wheeled out, Ozpin turned to Qrow, and his eyes blazed. "Can I send a message to Oscar?"
Qrow gave a feral grin. "It won't be easy for my crows, but they do like a challenge. Let me fill you in first."
Going through all of it took almost the entire afternoon. Ozpin kept interrupting with questions, seeking clarification, and outright anger at the general. He was shocked about the rebellion, appalled at what the Emperor had done, and desperately worried for Oscar and the other soothsayers.
"There's more to go over," Qrow said softly. "That's just the big stuff. I haven't told you about Robyn Hill, the riots, the pamphlets, or how the rebellion's been sneaking people into the city."
Ozpin was drooping again. "Alas, that will have to wait for tomorrow."
"Tired?"
"Furious. Frustrated. Spent. And yes, exhausted," Ozpin said tiredly. "All this because my sister was jealous of me." He shook his head. "I thought I understood before Beacon fell. I thought when I last saw her I understood. I don't understand at all."
"Hate wants everyone miserable, Oz. It doesn't take much to see that."
Qrow pulled out his envelope and pushed aside his awkwardness to lay it in Oz's hands. "Hate's not the only thing in the world. Rest up."
He moved to get up, really not wanting to be there as Ozpin read that, but Oz, the sneaky bastard, had grabbed his wrist. In the evening candlelight, his eyes were glowing, but not like magic. Instead they were glowing with hope and he was smiling under his mask.
With his free hand, he opened the envelope and Qrow just looked away so that no one could see his flush.
Qrow had spent his free moments while planning the jailbreak writing the damn thing. Reading and writing weren't his strengths. Mistralan had far too many characters to memorize and he wasn't anywhere near as eloquent as Oscar or Yang or Ruby, let alone Ozpin. But he'd put in his best attempt anyway, pitiful as it was.
Then he was pulled down into a fierce hug. Oz said something in Valean. "Yes," he said. "I accept your courtship. Beloved, I accept!"
Qrow held him close.
Author's Notes: Obligatory soft chapter after last week's hell with Oscar.
Oz's fever creates a soft time skip since he doesn't completely understand time, and we jump from slightly past midwinter to earl spring on top of sneakily planting a seed for later. We also justify why he's still alive - there isn't an epic battle of the hearts of humanity in this fic like the show show, but Oz's fight is still against something deep and pernicious to all people, he where show-Oz continues to believe in the good of humanity, this Oz continues to reach out and connect to people.
Also, Ruby is precious. She absolutely sells the good news, and Qrow's beleaguered patience is at last rewarded. We made sure Oz's escape from the hospital used as much of RWBY as we had access to, Blake will play her part later, but both Weiss and Yang have skills to bring to the fore and Dr. Polendina was already Oz's doctor.
A last note on something that most people will (probably?) miss. We've mentioned a couple of times that Qrow's hands warm when he's with the crows. Here his hands warm and - though he doesn't know it - he closes Oz's magic during one of his fevers. Qrow has a lot of magic in him - not enough to be a soothsayer, but enough that he can connect to crows and accidentally do a good for a bedraggled sayer.
Next chapter. Oz continues his recovery, some lovers meet, and there's some casual burglary.