Chapter Twenty-Eight

For two weeks Oscar quietly panicked over the idea of having a fever. He had spent the winter watching Oz wander in and out of fevers, and he had watched the horror of delirium, open magic, weak moaning, and various other things that had him mildly terrified of falling asleep. He'd never had a fever growing up - colds, yes, the occasional bad stomach, but not a fever. His aunt's bleeding cough, too, ran through his mind, seeing her weak and coughing and fragile.

Ozpin never strayed far from him, held his hand constantly, soothed and reassured him that everything would be fine. Oscar did get bullet fever, his body felt achy and weak - this on top of his side causing white hot agony whenever he so much as thought of moving it. As strength left he drifted - not unconscious but so lost in his own head he had a hard time sensing time. But every time he was aware of himself Oz was there with a soft word or a kiss to his forehead, and he felt safe to drift.

Dr. Polendina and Penny wandered in and out of his awareness, so did Qrow and his nieces. His father, however, was constant.

"This is what I wanted for you," he said at some point, he didn't know when. "I wanted to be there when you woke up."

Ozpin smiled, he remembered that, soft and warm. "I don't remember much," he replied. "But I remember…" His own eyes drifted, for a moment he looked like he did at the hospital, and for a moment Oscar wasn't sure if he wasn't there again. "Oscar," Oz started again. "You did everything you could - you exerted extraordinary effort to look out for me in an environment that… Oscar. Oscar I am so proud of you I have no words to describe it."

A cool hand was on his cheek then, and he leaned into it.

"I love you so much, Oscar."

"... I love you, too… Dad..."

As quietly panicked as he was throughout the fever, somehow, he never fell so far as to lose all sense. Oz didn't let him, and one morning he woke up and his head was clear for the first time in… he wasn't sure how long.

Oz was at his side, of course, holding his hand. He wasn't reading, he was writing, and Oscar felt like that was new, somehow.

"... Morning," he said, reaching up with his free hand to rub at his face.

"Afternoon," Ozpin corrected. "However, that is good news. Your fever finally broke last night. The worst is over."

The relief was dizzying, and Oz bent down to softly kiss his forehead. The next morning he woke not in a cot but on a pallet on the floor, Oz curled around him, and it was so close to being at home he tried to nuzzle closer to his father. Oz, in turn hummed, drifting awake long enough to curl further around him.

Three days after that Ozpin was writing again. Oscar had been cleared to sit up - but he needed help to do it. He couldn't bend the muscles around his core without agony, and Penny and Dr. Polendina helped him up into a chair next to his father. He looked over his shoulder, and saw Oz was putting together words and phrases, aligning and then crossing them out. Was that… "Poetry?" he asked, confused.

Oz glanced at him and blushed softly. "I'm returning a gift," he said simply. "I've been working on it for weeks, but I think it's near done."

"I didn't know you did poetry," Oscar said.

"I don't. Well, not Mistralan poetry. I want it to be just right."

"Is it for someone?"

"Yes."

Oscar was given a book on histories, he worked through it even as he tired easily. Either Penny of Oz helped feed him. He was certainly hungry enough, but his body ran out of energy about halfway through a meal, and he couldn't hold chopsticks or lift a bowl to his mouth to sip. Afterwards he had to be carried to bed, usually by Qrow. Ozpin would stand and very slowly, very carefully, walk over to the bed, smiling at accomplishing something like that.

They slept together, like they were supposed to, and Oscar felt safe.

"You son of a bitch!"

Oscar startled awake, jolting slightly as he saw Qrow's feet in front of him, moving around his head to Oz's side of the pallet. Oscar turned around slowly, mindful of his side, and finally managed to see Qrow, on his knees and grabbing Oz's face to plant a heartfelt kiss on his lips. What…? He stared, not quite sure he was seeing this.

"... does this mean you accept the return of my affection?" Oz asked when they finally parted, breathless but also with that hint of mischief Oscar had heard more than once.

"Yes, you bastard, you already knew that," Qrow growled, cheeks bright pink as he sat on the floor, glowering.

Ozpin hummed, warm, and turned to give Oscar a soft, mischievous smile. "Would you mind, this afternoon, bringing in Ruby and Yang?" he asked, voice perfectly innocent in a way that Oscar knew very well. "I haven't seen your family in one place since before my fall, it feels like."

"Sure," Qrow said, gruff and red in the face. "If it'll get you to stop looking like you ate an entire roasted pork."

Ozpin climbed his way to his feet, crawling first up to a stool to sit, then grabbing his cane and working his way to standing. Then the laborious walk to his seat. Oscar watched with envy, wondering when he could move his side enough to do the same. He tried to lift himself up but there was too much pain.

Penny arrived shortly, putting Ozpin through exercises and removing Oscar's bandages to check his own wounds. He steadfastly looked away each time, the disjointed image of blood spurting out of his side making him afraid to see what was there. Ozpin caught his gaze and held it, his entire face warm and making Oscar less nervous.

"You have made significant progress," she said finally, cutting off the new stint of bandages. "Your infection is decreasing rapidly and soon we can remove the stitches. We are now ready to test your mobility. Please move your dominant hand and try to hold it over your head."

He was surprised to find he couldn't do it, he made it three quarters up before it pulled at his side and he hissed, letting it drop back down. His other hand was just as bad, and he learned that more than just his side seemed to be damaged from that night.

"Do not sell yourself short," Penny said. "You actually have remarkable mobility, all things considered. Professor Ozpin knows many of the stretches to regain your full range of motion. Now doubt he will teach you but for now let me show you the basics."

Oscar felt like he hardly did anything before he was a sweating, panting mess, but his father again knew exactly what to say.

"I've been through this before. Twice, now," he added with a sad whimsy. "What hurts most is knowing you could do this all before. The trick is to set the goal of getting to that point again. Every pull is not a frustration, but a chance to gain back what was taken from you. Here, your own weight will give you an extra amount of stretch if you shift more like this."

Oscar was exhausted, but he was able to eat his lunch (mostly) on his own, Ozpin managing his own meal and tracing a hand along a collection of marble pedestals and copper candlesticks. The pair of them read for a while, hand in hand, before Qrow came in with his nieces.

Yang looked twice as confident as she used to, long strides and a smile on her face. Ruby seemed taller somehow, and she slid open one of the room doors to set two crows off, presumably with messages. Warm air drifted in, and Oscar realized it was late spring now. Where had the time gone?

"Well, then," Ozpin said with a flourish, "How long has it been since the five of us have been together?"

Ruby and Yang glanced at each other, thinking, and but Oscar knew the answer: "Since before the fall," he said softly.

Oz nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Our two families have been tied together for some time now," he said. "Both of you have practiced your Mistralan with me. Both of you have helped Oscar with his various chores as I can't. For all our interactions I don't know if we've ever been properly introduced."

Oscar watched Ruby suddenly jump up to her knees. "Is this what I think it is? It is, isn't it! Oh my goodness this is so romantic!"

Oscar frowned in absolute confusion, his eyes flicking to Yang for more information but she was giving a flat-eyed stare. "Seriously?" she said. "Who even does this anymore?"

"Yang, don't even try! Oh I can't believe I'm watching this! I can't believe I'm part of this!"

His father had that mischief smile on again as Ruby absolutely twittered with glee; Oscar glanced at Qrow but he seemed just as lost as Oz reached to the far side of the table, on the other side of the copper candlesticks and tugged over a tray Oscar hadn't previously noticed, setting it on his lap. Ruby was crooning uncontrollably, humming and giggling, until Yang lightly slapped her arm to get her to be quiet. Oz pulled out a pair of crow feathers, carefully beaded and with colorful bits of string.

"These should be turkey feathers, of course, but turkey is not a natural bird on this continent," Oz said by way of explanation. He took one of the feathers and tied it around one of the flagoons, doing the same with the other. "Some traditions had to be bent but Miss Weiss has proven to be quite generous with her access to certain items for this ceremony."

Qrow groaned, apparently now knowing what this was. "I told you I don't care about this kind of fye," he cursed.

"No, no, don't ruin it Uncle Qrow!" Ruby said, bouncing on her knees. "I want to see all of this!"

Oz chuckled. "Well," he said wryly, "at least one Valean here understands. I know you at least, Ruby, have known about our courtship for a time, and Qrow tells me Yang has also been aware of his writing a poem for me. We have explored the branches such a relationship would create and are interested in planting that seed. Seeds, however, cannot grow without the nutrients of their soil: their families. For the two of us to bloom we - well. I supposed it's more accurate to say I-"

Ruby giggled.

"I would like our two families to know that we are exploring this relationship, and I would like it if our two families also got to know each other." He lifted one of the flagoons. "Oscar and I humbly offer honey as a symbol of hard work and community. Qrow-"

"I'm not saying a damn thing," Qrow muttered.

"Brothers," Yang cursed. "At least go through the motions."

"I will! I will!" Ruby said, jolting to her feet and darting over to the tray grabbing the other flagon. "Uncle Qrow, Yang, and myself offer maple syrup - is this really maple syrup? Oh, wow it is! How did Weiss even get any? Oh, I'm having this later… Anyway! Uncle Qrow, Yang, and myself offer maple syrup as a symbol of… uhm… um…"

"Perseverance," Ozpin prompted.

"Yes! I remember now: as perseverance and annual renewal."

"Very good," Ozpin said with a smile. "These gifts last for many years, as Qrow and I hope to last for many years. We hope that our families mesh as well as we do."

Yang nodded solemnly, finally getting into the spirit of… whatever it was Oscar was witnessing. "We'll spend time together the same way you and Uncle Qrow do," she said, tugging her hand through her long tresses. "And we'll learn to grow as you learn to grow. We accept the match."

"Ah! That was so beautiful!" Ruby said, throwing her hands up in the air and jumping to her feet. "Yang said she wasn't big on this ceremony, I thought for sure I was never going to witness one, I'm so happy! Oh, Uncle Qrow, you must be high as a cloud!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Qrow said, indignant.

"Uhm," Oscar said, lifting a hand. "I'm a little lost, too."

Ruby's silver eyes pinned him to his chair - not that he could move - and gasped as she pointed. "I keep forgetting your Mistralan!" she cried out. "Oh, you have no idea what you just watched, do you! Ah! That's criminal! Oscar, your dad and our uncle are dating!"

"Um… yes?"

"No, you don't understand! They just… that was… ah! Yang, help me out here!"

Yang shrugged her shoulders. "Nobody really does this," she gestured vaguely, "anymore."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're terrible. Come on, Yang, give me a hand. We'll carry Oscar to the garden and explain it to him there. I'm sure Uncle Qrow has a lot to say to the professor now that they're this close."

Yang's grin was dark as she leveled it at her uncle. "Yeah, Uncle Qrow. I bet you and the professor have so much to say. If you get tired you can totally take a nap. We'll be gone a long time."

"I hate all of you."

Oz finally let out an undignified giggle, reaching over and patting Qrow's shoulder as Yang got up. She and Ruby lifted Oscar up into the air and out to the garden's warm air. He thought he heard his father, "They do realize I'm not well enough for that, right?"

"Oh, sure, that you get..."

Yang carried Oscar mostly, even with one arm she was so strong his weight seemed to mean nothing to her. He had never been out to the garden and he marveled at the space that seemed to wrap around the entire house. He recognized a vegetable garden and a bed of summer flowers, still green and growing. Ruby darted ahead, ducking under - was that a rainbow eucalyptus? On the mountain? Surviving frost? How…? Oscar's eyes traced up the trunk, star-struck, at one of the most expensive herbs he and Oz stored just… growing for decoration. "I need cuttings of this," he said, starting to reach up before his bullet wound spiked, and he hummed in pain.

Yang set him down on a stone bench, butt up against the wall of the property, and Oscar pulled his eyes away from the eucalyptus to see Ruby animatedly talking to Weiss and Yang, sitting on a different bench.

"... It was so romantic!" she said. "The professor did everything, turkey - well, crow - feathers and all! He even found the right beading, I don't know where he found wampum here in Mistral but he did! Oh, you should have seen it. We just left them, I hope they spend the rest of the day together!"

"They spend a lot of their days together," Blake said, frowning. "I don't understand how this is so important."

"I agree," Weiss said, rubbing her bandaged arm. "I don't see what all the hubbub is for. Does honey and - what was it? Maple syrup? Do those mean something?"

"It's a part of courtship," Yang said, sitting herself down and waving it off. "There's two phases: the couple getting to know each other after they've exchanged poems, and when they're ready the second phase is getting the families to know each other. If at least two members of the opposite families can get along then it's considered a good match. More is better but not all families are built to get along. Nobody does it anymore," she added, leaning back. "It's pretty outdated."

"Oh, no it's not," Ruby said with a shake of her head. "Some people like to skip the ceremony, but the families still have to meet and acknowledge the relationship. They can't do the fun stuff otherwise."

"Fun stuff?" Weiss said. "I don't… how does that translate?"

"It means they get to have sex now," Yang said with a sly grin. "That's why we left in such a hurry."

Oscar turned bright red, so did Blake and Weiss, as they realized just what the ceremony actually symbolized.

"... do people really wait for the ceremony?" Blake asked, throwing an intense look to Yang, who colored.

"Not everyone," Ruby said wistfully, "but I think it's really romantic when you do. It means you take the families seriously, and you want the match to make it all the way to marriage."

"Hm," Blake said in a tone that said a lot of things, eyes still on Yang.

"Like I said," Ruby's sister said, coughing. "Not everyone does the ceremony."

"It would be nice if they asked their partner," Blake said with a sniff.

Oscar quickly interceded, sensing something. "It's different," he said. "I didn't realize what it was. In Mistral there's the Five Touches that progress a relationship."

"Oh, I've heard of that," Weiss said, perking slightly. "That's exploring the family tree, isn't it?"

"Nothing that formal," Oscar said. "At least, not on the farm where I grew up. You do want to go through the Five Generations to make sure the match isn't taboo, but sometimes in really small communities like the village near our farm you can skim it down to three generations. What I'm talking about is the Five Touches: Touching Words, Touching Hands, Touching Families, Touching Mouths, and then Touching Lives. Words and hands are the longest phase of the relationship, because that's when the families are seeing if the match works. Like if they get along I mean. I know it's a lot more formal in the city and up the mountain and can take as long as a few years, but on the farm that part only lasted for a couple of months to a year at most. If there's a part that's skipped it's usually Touching Families, because by that point the families are already invested in the match - but on the farm you all already know each other, so… I guess for the professor and Qrow this is roughly Touching Mouths, but the sex part is supposed to be forbidden until they Touch Lives - that's marriage."

"That's a lot of steps," Yang said. "Sounds complicated."

"Not complicated," Weiss said, shaking her head. "Not compared to Atlas courting. It's at least a year before the couples are trusted to be left alone. But back to Vale traditions, does the honey and syrup mean something?"

"Yeah," Yang said. "Honey is a sign of community - which is pretty big in Vale compared to here - because of all the worker bees and stuff. Syrup is perseverance and renewal because it's harvested every spring. It means the couple want to work at the relationship and are in for the long haul."

"It also tells people their relationship is sweet," Ruby said with a sly grin, happy with her pun.

"It's not so much community as family here in Mistral," Oscar said, rubbing at his side. "Family is your first community and after the emperor who you owe the most loyalty to. Families are in charge of the match and families negotiate the resources and families combine their wealth to be richer both for their numbers and their earnings."

"Does that mean Professor Ozpin had been looking for a match for you?" Blake asked. "You're sixteen, isn't that when most courtships get started?"

"... I'm not sure he's even thought of it," Oscar said, looking down. "There's been so much going on. He was at the hospital when I turned sixteen and… with the draft…"

Silence fell over the girls, and Oscar felt bad for being a downer. As a Valean Oscar wasn't even sure Ozpin understood he was supposed to look for a match for his son. Admittedly, though, Oscar was privately fine with that. He wasn't interested in being given a match. He wanted to stay with his father a little bit longer. It might have been a childish thought, but he hadn't really had Oz for very long and he wanted more time before he was expected to settle down with someone.

"He sure has been through a lot," Ruby said softly, a breeze shifting through the trees and the dappled shadows shifting over everyone. "I feel like he and you have had a really bad winter."

"Yeah," Blake said, rubbing at her leg. "Neither of you deserved what happened to you. I can't believe what luck you had."

"... it wasn't luck," Oscar said, looking down. "It was the Grimm."

All four girls turned to look at him, confused, and Oscar realized belatedly he had said that out loud. He shifted his weight, tolerating the spike of pain it brought to his side, and tried to look away. It was Blake who reached out, putting her hand gently on his and drawing his attention. "I heard you use that word before," she said. "With the other soothsayers. What is a Grimm?"

Oscar took a breath, feeling anxiety start to bubble up in his chest. "It's… I guess it translates to a curse," he said. "Someone put a curse on the professor, to make him alone and sad. Every time he starts to break out of that - every time he starts to feel happy, or part of something, the Grimm triggers, and bad things happen."

"... what kind of bad things?" Weiss asked, leaning forward.

Oscar pursed his lips, deciding carefully how to explain. "All this winter," he said. "The fall, the backbreaker. Probably my drafting and everything in the workhouse."

"But… both of you nearly died!" Ruby said, horrified.

"Wait, is this the person Uncle Qrow is so obsessed over? The white witch bitch?"

"Yeah," he said softly. "Her name is Salem, and she's Oz's sister."

"His sister?"

"... yeah," Oscar replied, looking down again. "He… it's really hard for him to talk about. He thought she was dead for a long time but she was actually hidden away, soothmaking for a very long time. Grimm - curses - they're the price of soothmaking, and that price is pulled from all of Remnant."

"Is that…" Blake started to say, her eyes narrow in thought. "Is that why the rebellion, the war, all of it has been so terrible? I remember the other soothsayers, they were asking each other over and over after you were detained whether or not they had made Grimm. More than a few asked their sand tables, and this… this thing was created in their readers."

"The Grimm," Oscar said. "Yes. They've been making Grimm ever since the general started making them do readings on the war, and I absolutely believe that's why the war has gone as badly as it did." He worried his hands. "Oz… he's almost died twice now. I thought for sure…"

Yang wrapped her strong arm around him, and Blake touched his hand again, Weiss and Ruby looking on with comfort.

"Okay," Ruby said with a stout nod. "Where can we find this woman? This Salem?"

Oscar blinked. "I'm sorry… what?"

"Where can we find her?" Ruby asked. "So we can stop her."

"I… you can't… wait, what?"

"It seems pretty obvious to me," Weiss said, reaching up and touching the new scar along her eye. "If this Salem woman is so dead set on cursing the professor and ruining all of Remnant to do so, it behooves all of us to stop her with everything that we have. Between Blake's and my resources, Ruby's resourcefulness and Yang's muscle, we should be more than a match for her."

"Exactly," Yang said. "How do we find this white witch bitch?"

Oscar stared, absorbing it all: their resolute faces, their determination, their commitment. "... why?" he found himself asking. "Why are you doing this?"

"He's responsible for bringing us all together," Weiss said, like she was stating the obvious. "All of our readings, they all reference the four of us coming together. He predicted that we would all change each other for the better, and so far he's been right."

"He told me Yang would save my life," Blake said softly. "That Ruby would teach me how to fight again. He wasn't wrong."

"He said Yang and Ruby and Blake would all teach me," Weiss said. "I've learned more in the last six months than I have in the most prestigious academies."

"He told me I wasn't broken," Yang said, looking down at her hand. "He told me I was changing, and he was right."

"See?" Ruby said. "He's put all of us on paths that will make us better people. It's only right that we return the favor and get him to be free of this… this Grimm. This curse."

Oscar hummed, his voice a little broken, and he realized his vision was blurry. In Mistral family was everything, and now he saw - more than he even did when he acknowledged Ozpin as his father - that family was more than just blood. A hot tear spilled over and he looked down, trying to hide it. "Th-thank-" he tried to say, but his voice cracked. Oh, he couldn't afford to cry, his side would hurt so much… But this all felt so good, he was so relieved… he didn't have to do this alone, he didn't have to stress over his father, he didn't have to do all the research himself. He had family, people he could ask for help, people outside of Oz who understood, people outside of Qrow who didn't follow all of it but still wanted to help. He had a family, and it was large and warm and soft and so very good…

Blake got up on her good leg and hopped over to trap him in a joint hug with Yang, Ruby crouching down to put a hand on his knee and Weiss doing the same.

And he was safe. Safe with Oz, safe with these wonderful young women, safe with Qrow. He wasn't alone, not like when his aunt was sick, not like when Oz fell, not like at the workhouse, and all he could feel was heartfelt relief.

That night, Oscar ate with not just Oz and Qrow, but also Yang and Ruby, all of them teasing the new couple. Qrow was sour through all of it, reminding them that they had to keep this all very quiet until the "white witch bitch" was taken care of. Ruby and Yang enthusiastically agreed, and said they would do whatever they needed to to take care of her.

"I'm sorry, what?" Qrow demanded, voice low and put upon. "Exactly when did you decide you have anything to do with this?"

"Since you made the professor part of the family," Ruby said brightly. "Don't worry. Once we find her we'll take her down in one fell swoop."

"The hell you will," Qrow grunted. "This bitch curses people. There's no way I'm letting you two get in her sights."

"What, and you wouldn't?" Yang demanded, violet gaze bright. "Didn't you say that she was going to try and curse you, too? Is this any different?"

"Yeah," Qrow grunted. "Tai won't kill me if it's me."

"Qrow," Oscar said softly, "They're part of the family. They're just as involved as you. They have a right to defend their family."

Qrow, fellow Mistralan, stared at Oscar with wide eyes, head swiveling to stare at him head on. Oscar held his gaze, unwilling to back down.

"Please," he said softly.

"... fye and filth on all of you," Qrow muttered.

Yang in turn snorted. "I didn't know you knew how to play him, Oscar. Good job, I'll have to remember that one."

"The hell you will."

"Let him have a few minutes," Ozpin said softly, but not without his mischievous smile. "Today has been hard on him, as he's not a man of ceremony and I am. We can talk about this more in the morning. I personally agree that you ladies should not be involved in this. You still have your lives ahead of you, and crossing a soothmaker is a brush with cataclysm. I'd rather avoid confrontation altogether, her power is at least equal to mine and that is considerable, and regardless, we don't know where she is."

"But can't the sands tell you that?" Ruby asked.

Ozpin frowned, Oscar watching, as he glanced at the copper candlesticks. "... It's possible," he said, "but I would need a better reader than this monstrosity I've been forced to work with. There's almost no magic left in it without opening it again with a charging wreath, and reliable accuracy on this at all would be a fallacy."

Oscar looked down. "And our reader is still at the palace," he said. "All the readers are."

"Well that's okay," Ruby said brightly. "That just means that's our first objective. I'll talk to Weiss in the morning."

The girls eventually left, and Qrow carried Oscar to the pallet. He shuffled under the blanket as his father made the laborious journey from his chair to the bed, shuffling into his nightclothes and joining Oscar. Qrow got both of them settled in and stood, hands in his pockets and rocking slightly on his feet, debating.

"Please," Ozpin said, "Stay."

"Oz. I'm trying to hide us from the white witch bitch."

"And I love you for your protective desire," Ozpin said, "but everyone here in this house is safe. You can stay and no one will say anything."

"It's okay," Oscar added. "Family should be together."

Qrow made a face, glaring at Oscar's wording, but his cheeks were pink and he pulled his house shoes off, pulling at his shirt and joining them in bed.

The last time the three of them were together in bed, it was Midwinter Feast, when Qrow had been invited to be part of the family for the holiday. Oscar remembered the very forward invitation, and he smiled now, to know it had been a good match even then. His father curled around him as he usually did, and Qrow snaked his arms over his father's hips, one hand just touching Oscar's arm. He had two parents, now - more than he had since he was a baby, and he thought of his aunt, and how happy she would be that he had found so many people to join him in his life.

And Ruby was right, the relationship was very sweet.

Standing had taken the longest. Walking had, to Ozpin's reckoning, happened remarkably quicker than last time. Mostly that was because he had a goal: he wanted to go home. He wanted to be back in his apartment, Oscar tending the gardens, weaving charging wreaths and cooking over the stove. He wanted to read his own books, he wanted to watch Midsummer Feast with his lover hand in hand, he wanted to eventually go back to the office.

He wanted the familiar place where, for the first time since the Grimm, he had been happy.

But, in order to do that, he had a challenge.

The new curve in his leg was small, visually, but in terms of balance it was enormous. As he grew back his strength and endurance, he found he had to balance on his cane more. When standing his leg was so stick-straight he could put his weight on it and it would just… hold. Now the curve meant his weight wasn't evenly distributed on his foot, more pressure was put on the arch, and his muscles tensed in strange ways. Oh, time would make him acclimate, but walking two laps with the wrap-around porch of the house they were hiding in taught him that balance was distinctly different, and that led him to his challenge:

Stairs.

Most of the house slept upstairs, with the exception of his and Pietro's families respectively. He looked up those stairs, pursing his lips, constantly gauging if now was the time he could do it. He didn't need to go up four flights to his office, he just needed to go up one flight to his apartment.

Oscar was by all accounts recovering miraculously well. With the infection gone his wound was closing as it should, his traumatized muscles hurt less, and he already had regained much mobility. He wanted his son home to complete his recovery, and that meant he had to push himself.

He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath.

He planted his cane on the first step, gripping the safety rail. His curved leg would have to hold his weight, that was the source of his uncertainty. He also knew, however, that if he over thought this he would never make the climb. Gritting his teeth, he sucked in a breath and did something between a hop and a push. His good leg in the air terrified him, but it slammed onto the step quickly enough and he could lift his bad leg to complete the motion.

One step down.

His eyes traced his way up, counting. Twelve more to go.

… Right.

He performed the motion again: planting his cane, gripping the rail, and praying his bad leg would hold his weight enough to hop up to the next step. He almost psyched himself out, he had to stop halfway through building the momentum of the hop. "Come now, professor," he muttered to himself. "Don't make this harder than it actually is." He made the second step, and he needed a moment to breathe, turning back slightly and somehow feeling miles high even though he had only climbed two steps. Part of him was scolding himself over how much mental energy he was exerting, part of him was aghast and how little he had accomplished, but part of him knew he had to do more to get his son home where he belonged.

The third step was just as difficult as the second, the fourth was smoother, but the fifth he made a miscalculation and almost fell down the stairs. He had the horrifying sensation of tipping before his grip on the rail saved him, and he needed several moments to get his heart back under control. The sixth step he noticed his hands were shaking - he had an iron grip on both his cane and the rail, and he realized belatedly he might not have enough built up endurance to complete this. He turned, saw the bottom of the stairs, and he looked up to the top - still so far away. He pursed his lips into a thin line, closing his eyes and promising himself: for Oscar.

He retreated into his own head, focusing on the motions: cane, rail, hop, lift. Cane, rail, hop, lift. His good leg was feeling the excursion and there was a pain in his bad knee that he was slowly learning would be a permanent feature of his leg now. The warm air built on his skin, he was sweating in the rising heat. Was it late spring or early summer? He hadn't looked at a calendar in ages. Oh, honestly, stop distracting yourself. Cane, rail, hop lift. Cane, rail, hope lift.

Ozpin's vision cleared the top of the stairs, and he was surprised to see a collection of feet. It broke his concentration and he looked up to see all the girls: Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang, all watching with wide smiles. His ears picked up the women giving encouraging words, excitement in their voices.

"You can do it, professor!"

"Only three more steps to go, come on!"

"You're almost there!"

He flushed at the attention, suddenly and intensely embarrassed, and he froze where he stood, poleaxed. How had they even known…? But of course the answer was obvious, Abuela had said it often enough: his cane tapping on each step was a rhythm, and they had heard his approach probably from the beginning. Had they been watching the whole time? That made him even more embarrassed, and he wasn't sure how he could shrink into himself, hide away as so many people watched him struggle.

"Girls, back off. Give him some space."

… Qrow?

He turned, even brighter red, and saw Qrow three steps below him, easy smile on his face.

"You, too?" he asked, his voice an undignified squeak of a whisper.

Qrow nodded, leaning casually on the wall of the stairwell, and at the base of the steps he saw Oscar, standing - standing - at the base of the steps.

"Come on, Oz," Qrow said, gruff voice gentle. "Three more steps. Show'em how it's done."

"I don't… how long…?"

"Been watching you stare at the steps for days, Oz," Qrow replied. "Minute I heard that cane I came over." He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Can't help how oblivious you get when your big professor head is set to something."

Ozpin wanted to shrivel up and hide literally anywhere - he hadn't wanted people watching this escapade - not when he wanted to prove the concept to himself first. He dithered, uncertain how he could muster up the concentration to complete his self-imposed task. He felt shame that people had seen his struggles, and he fought with himself to let go of that intense sensation of privacy. Oscar had seen him fight with stairs - had helped him without complaint when things were bad. Qrow was to be part of this, too, but somehow it was different. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he didn't want his lover, his partner, his beloved to see him like this. Struggling. Weak. Hideously imperfect.

"Three more steps, Oz," Qrow prompted. "Let me know if you need me."

… If.

He said if…

Emotion bubbled up in him, Qrow somehow knowing something so very few people did. His partner did not take over and lift him up the last of the steps. He did not jump to hold his hand or brace himself as some kind of human net to catch him. He simply stood on the steps and watched. Waited. Ozpin's eyes drifted to Oscar, and his son was smiling, silent encouragement. He was sweating too, pushing himself to stay standing until Ozpin cleared the last step.

… Well. Ozpin wasn't going to make his son wait any longer.

He turned back to the stairs, felt the ache in his bad knee. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look inward, to block out the sensation of Qrow behind him, of the eyes at the top of the stairs. He allowed himself to feel Oscar's gaze, allowed himself to know his son expected him to finish this, and let that thought give him strength.

Cane. Rail. Hop. Lift.

His grip was sweaty, and his good leg was shaking.

Cane. Rail. Hop. Lift.

The elevation played with vertigo - he gave himself a minute to understand the sensation and let it pass.

Cane.

Rail.

Hop.

Lift.

He did it, and the girls all cheered, rushing up and sweeping him into a swell of hugs and well wishes. His entire body was shaking, he wasn't sure if it was exertion or shame or pride or some combination of the above. His bad leg was moments away from giving out, and his grip on his cane would not be enough to hold him up. Ozpin shifted his weight to his good leg, but it was just as exhausted and he started to feel himself sway.

But then Qrow was there, one strong arm wrapping around his shoulders and squeezing hard enough to keep him in place as the girls slowly pulled away to beam at him. Ozpin felt himself dizzy - not from the effort, not entirely - but in pride that he had done it. He had gone up one flight of stairs, on his own, unaided. How long didn't matter. He could time himself later. The important thing was that he did it, and that meant he knew he could do it again.

He leaned into his beloved, Qrow tipping his head close to whisper in his ear. "Can you make it down?"

Oz replied with the barest of shakes.

"Okay girls," Qrow said, giving another squeeze. "I think Oz and I need to celebrate."

"Oh, yes!" Ruby said quickly, Yang a half-second behind her. "We have to, uh, go down to the garden. Yeah! Oscar said he wanted some clippings of one of the trees or something."

"Yeah, it'll take all four of us," Yang said, nodding sagely.

"Oh. Oh!" Weiss said, catching on. "Now I can hear it, it's the annunciation, isn't it? Yes, we absolutely need to talk in the garden."

"Don't worry, Professor," Blake said, smiling. "You won't be disturbed. Oscar, do you want to join us?"

Oz let Qrow turn him back to the stairs, legs shaking, and he saw his son sitting carefully down in a chair someone had set up for him. "No," he said, wiping at his forehead. "I can't really move just yet."

"Of course," Blake said as the girls moved down the stairs. "Do you want us to take you somewhere?"

"No," Oscar said, eyes glancing up the stairs to his father. "I'm good here for now."

The girls disappeared in a gaggle of noise and Oz's bad leg finally gave out. He stumbled into Qrow's grip and his partner shuffled to keep him from falling.

"Easy there, Oz," Qrow said lightly. "Don't throw yourself at me unless you want me to retaliate."

"Oh, sorry," he said, trying to get his balance again.

Oscar snorted at the bottom of the steps, Qrow rolling his eyes. "Oblivious."

Qrow wordlessly hefted him up enough to carry him down the stairs, where he sat at the base heavily, Oscar reaching out and the two of them holding hands. The privacy made him finally start to feel the success, and he smiled at his son as Qrow sat next to him, hand on his knee. The three of them sat there, smiling at each other.

"I think we can go home, now," Ozpin said softly.

Author's Notes: Unadulterated HAPPY chapter. They all needed it after such a sucky winter. We get to play with world building again with the courtship traditions of Vale and Mistral, because we're dorks and that kind of stuff is our jam. Moreover, the family unite is solidified, and Oscar as a Mistralan can best sidestep Qrow's urge to rankle when ceremony is involved. Also Yang is a modern woman and Blake is more traditional. This entertained us to no end for literally no reason, you have no idea.

Not really much to say otherwise.

Next chapter: the family goes home. Oscar and Oz's recovery continue.