Part 7

Ozpin pulled up to the Xiao Long household, parking in the driveway and leaning back in the car. He hated driving, his bad leg always suffered for it, even short drives like this. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose.

Qrow had been more and more agitated as the date of the hearing approached, his words short and clipped, his manners dark. It made Ozpin uncomfortable, "moody" was something he generally associated with… well, with Salem, and he didn't like even a faint comparison between the two. Unlike Salem, however, Qrow was fighting every step of the way to not be those things. After snapping, he would apologize; he forced himself to smile when they would first greet each other in the parking lot. He explained the fight with young Yang as they finally explained the sordid tale, and the stubborn denial that she held at home. Ozpin watched Yang's face - normally so open and bright - cloud to something dark and pensive.

Sighing, he pulled himself out of the car and walked up to the front door, ringing the front bell.

"Hey," Qrow said as he opened the door, in faded slacks and a grey button down shirt, red tie half wound around his neck. It was the most formal Ozpin had ever seen him, he cleaned up well, but his eyes were a thunderstorm of emotion. "Thanks for coming."

"You're most welcome," he said softly.

"Sorry you have to do this."

Ozpin smiled. "You seem to forget that I volunteered," he said, stepping inside and shedding his coat. "Is Ruby here as well?"

"No, she said she wanted to go to school."

"I understand."

"Oz!"

"Tai. A pleasure to see you, as always."

The blond was also well dressed, brown suit, white button down, and - Oz glanced - the same red tie as Qrow. They matched. "A unified front," he observed, "Subtle but powerful. I'm sure things will go your way."

Tai's smile was as strained as Qrow's eyes as he scratched the back of his head. "We'll see," he said gently. "Thanks for doing this."

Oz shook his head. "It saves me two hours on the road in the cold. And as I told Qrow, I volunteered."

"Yang! Yang, get over here!"

"Unless I'm going to the parole hearing I don't want to talk to you!" a disembodied voice said from down the hall.

Oz and Tai shared a look, but Qrow frowned and marched down the hall. "You're gonna show manners, firecracker," he said in an ominous tone that made the toes curl in Ozpin's shoes. He held a breath, released it, and forced himself to focus on Tai. "When's the hearing?"

"Ten o'clock," Tai answered, sighing. "Last one took about an hour, and then we all had lunch together. Kinda like detox or something. Qrow said Penny - that's Amber's daughter - might be there. It makes me wonder if we should bring Yang, but…"

Ozpin nodded. "I understand. I'll keep you informed if anything happens."

Qrow was back, all but shoving Yang to the living room. The teen looked at Oz, violet eyes wide and then immediately narrow, shrewd.

"No," Qrow said almost automatically. "You are not going to plan on outrunning him, because no matter how fast you are you are not as fast as speed dial - and hell or high water I will leave the hearing to drag your sorry ass back here and then being grounded will be the least of your worries. Now sit down and play nice."

Yang flopped onto the couch, crossing her arms and glaring at her knees.

Ozpin smiled, "I'll take it from here. She'll be fine."

"Thanks. Really, thanks."

"Love you, Yang!" Tai said, reaching down to give his daughter a kiss. She refused, turning her head, and Tai just sighed, straightening and putting on his coat.

Qrow simply waved, slouched forward and marched away. The back door opened and closed, they listened to the engine start, and Oz at least watched them pull out of the driveway and leave for the hearing. The ensuing silence was, perhaps, a little awkward, but Ozpin knew the power of silence, and he turned and hobbled over to the recliner. He sat slowly, stretching his bad leg out. The corgi moved in and out of the room, oblivious to the tension.

"Are you gonna try and talk to me?" she asked, sullen.

"Only if you wish," Ozpin said, throwing his eyes to her. "Pain like this is intimate, and sharing it with others can be sometimes repugnant."

Violet eyes darted to him and then back to her knees. "What would you know?" she muttered. "Your mom isn't in jail."

"That is true," Ozpin said, hand sliding down his cane for a better grip. "Your specific pain isn't one that I can entertain, but - if I may be so bold - you are young enough yet to not realize that pain itself is something shared across the human condition, and the only thing blocking empathy is the degree of pain someone has suffered."

"Look, I'm not interested in whatever lesson you think you can teach me, professor, so just forget it."

Too angry, then. Oz simply nodded, let the conversation drop, and pulled out a book and his phone. The phone he placed on the arm of the chair, in easy reach, and opened his paperback, letting the string of a bookmark dangle from a loose finger. He read surreptitiously, mostly listening to young Miss Xiao Long as she sulked. He could just see her through the sweep of his hair open her mouth twice to say something before thinking better of it. She finally turned on the TV, flipping channels. That made reading harder, but Ozpin was fine with that, he was more interested in Yang's mood regardless.

Qrow texted when they arrived at the prison, and again when the meeting started. Oz considered telling Yang this, but decided against it. She was a tightly coiled spring, and for now he didn't want to spin her any tighter.

Only when he was certain that she wasn't going to try and run did he put his book away and stand, leaning on his good leg and playing with his bad one, rolling his ankle and stretching out the muscles. Yang watched from the couch, her eyes were assessing but Oz made a point of checking his phone to silently remind her that running was a bad idea. He moved to the kitchen, warming a pan for milk and chocolate. Cocoa powder wasn't going to cut it today. He made two mugs and pulled out a simple heart shaped straw he'd bought years ago. Carrying two mugs was difficult, he had to pin his cane under his arm and hobble without its support, but he'd done it before more than once on campus and was able to avoid any spillage.

He placed the mug with the heart shaped straw on the coffee table by Miss Xiao Long and worked to sit back down. "Happy Valentine's Day," he said softly.

She stared at the homemade hot chocolate, eyes darting up to him as if he were expecting something, but Oz simply sipped his own hot chocolate and savored the warmth as it slid down his esophagus. Eventually, she took the mug and sipped through the straw. In spite of herself she smiled.

That was the most she had given all day, and Oz took that as a sign. "Once upon a time," he said, "There was a girl named Goldilocks."

"Ugh, I already know that story," Yang cut in.

"Oh, everyone knows the story," Ozpin said, leaning back with his mug. "But the lesson often gets lost, diluted as children grow up. The thing I always find the most interesting is the phrase 'just right.' Porridge was too hot or too cold, beds were too hard and soft, chairs were too big and too small, but always she found a 'just right.' As I grow older, I often wonder what 'just right' actually is." He sipped, savored the chocolate. "This," he said, raising his mug. "This is just right. But Oscar much prefers when I add an extra teaspoon of sugar. For me it's too sweet but for him it's 'just right.'"

"So?"

"Well, it occurred to me the other day that Oscar grew up with me baking," Oz explained. "Our home, especially now, is filled with cookies and fresh bread and cakes and hot chocolate." He lifted his mug again. "No one in my family growing up could really cook; I, by contrast, grew up on microwaved and instant meals. It took me a good several years before I was confident in my cooking, let alone my baking. My 'just right' is quite different from others as a result. Even in the fairy tale - Papa bear was tall and lean, liking things big and firm. Mama bear was warm and gentle, so she liked things soft and cool. Their respective chairs and beds and porridge, they were 'just right' for them. Knowing 'just right,' then, is as much a statement of the person as it is about the thing that is 'just right.'"

"Get to the point, Professor," Miss Xiao Long said. "I know this lecture is going somewhere."

Oz's phone, on silent, flickered on his lap but he ignored it. Yang didn't, eyes snapping to the phone but she couldn't read it from her angle.

"As you wish," he said instead. "If 'just right' is a statement of the person, then we can now turn our attention to your father and uncle. You, Miss Xiao Long, have very firmly established that 'just right' for you was knowing the circumstances of your mother's incarceration from the start. You have taken the time to study yourself, and you know that such a decision was 'just right' for you. Then, the converse of that sentiment is this: why was withholding the information from you 'just right' for your father and uncle?"

Yang looked away. "Because they hate me," she said, voice low and hurt.

"You don't truly believe that," Ozpin said.

"Yes I do."

"Then how can you justify them raising you? Giving you sleepovers, teaching you to defend yourself, expressing pride over your grades and social graces?"

"How about keeping the truth from me?"

"And now we get to the crux of the matter: pain."

"... what?"

Oz leaned forward. "You are in pain right now, Yang," he said. "We can all see it, we can all understand it, we can all agree on it. Here is what I am curious about: can you see the pain your father and uncle are suffering?"

Yang huffed. For a minute, Ozpin thought she was going to argue, but a thoughtful look finally bloomed on her face. Then she shook her head, crossing her arms. "What pain would they feel?" she muttered.

Got her.

Oz leaned back and took a long sip of his hot chocolate, giving her a moment to languish in the question. "I assume you've told your sister Ruby everything," he said. "Told her what your mother did to cause her incarceration."

"Yeah, so what? She had a right to know, too."

"Yes, we've established that that is your particular version of 'just right.' Tell me, how did this new information affect Ruby?"

"What do you mean? Ruby's fine."

"Oh?"

Yang frowned, staring at him. She was smart enough to know he was leading her on, but she didn't know the end of the lesson. Her gaze lost focus as she turned her mind back. Ozpin offered narration: "I would guess that you told Ruby about a week ago," he said, "Because starting last week she has been much quieter. She hasn't tackled your uncle in greeting, in fact she seems very hesitant to intrude on him at all when we pick you up. She looks over at you when you have occasion to make a reference to either your father or uncle, and she's been very pensive overall. Tell me, you know Miss Rose better than I, is she really fine?"

Yang was thinking hard now, her brow slowly creasing as she tried to recollect the changes. Zwei hopped up onto the couch, putting his head on Yang's lap.

"Ruby, like you, now has to come to terms with what her - I suppose we'll call her a step-mother - with what her step-mother did. She now understands that she lives in a world where people in her family can be considered bad. Not bad in the nebulous way of someone being in jail for an unknown crime, but for the unforgivable and calculated act of murder and arson. She has to reconcile that Qrow is related by blood to this unforgivable person, and she has to reconcile that her beloved sister is the daughter of this person. The color of her world is darker now, stained in a way that a simple hug and pat on the head cannot change. Is Ruby better for knowing this, then? Did this make her happier? Did it bring her satisfaction, like it did for you?"

"I'm not satisfied," Yang protested, but her words were empty of energy.

"But surely it was 'just right' that she knew? That was what she told you, that she needed to know for her own betterment, as you told your father?"

"... she never said anything," she replied.

Oz theatrically cocked his head to one side. "Then how did you know what her 'just right' was? If you had phone privileges and asked her right now if she had wanted to know, what would she have said?"

"That's not fair," Yang said, rallying and trying to hold her ground. "She's not a part of this, she's not the one being lied to."

"Then let's turn this around again," Ozpin said. "How were Qrow and Taiyang to know what your 'just right' was?"

"They should have told me from the start."

"I see," Ozpin said. "Right when you were born then? Or when you were old enough to speak? Perhaps your first day of school - that would be a wonderful way to commemorate the beginning of young life, to learn that one's mother was the villain of a dark fairy tale."

"No," Yang said, "They should have told me when I found out she was in jail in the first place!"

Ozpin hadn't known that, Qrow hadn't mentioned how Yang had learned of her mother's situation, only that she knew. He was on a roll, now, reaching the height of his lecture. Still, he seized on the original point of his thought experiment. "Very well," he said, conceding the point to dismiss it quickly, "we've already established your 'just right,' and we've established the ambiguity of Ruby's 'just right.' Now back to the original question I posed: do you know what your father's 'just right' is? Or Qrow's?"

"What does it matter?" she said, digging her heels in. "They knew."

"And knowing has clearly made Ruby much better off, hasn't it?" Oz asked.

And finally, finally her eyes widened, and she saw the point he was reaching for.

"Qrow must be so proud to know what his sister did, he must feel such satisfaction that the person he was closest to since childhood, the person who helped him escape the abuse of growing up, turned out to be even more broken than he himself was. Taiyang must feel nothing less than contentment to know that the woman he loved, the woman who bore his child, was so utterly terrified of the happiness he offered. Your father and uncle are so much better for having gone through the investigation, the trial, the interviews with the papers. They both must love knowing what your mother did."

Yang, tall as she was for thirteen, looked incredibly small, sitting there on the couch, the low hum of the TV on and the corgi in her lap and the weight of the realization slowly pulling her down. Oz finally looked at his phone.

Parole denied. Eating with the Poledinas.

He nodded, and shifted his weight in the chair, alternating the angle of his bad leg.


Much later, after some searching, he finally found the number he wanted on his phone, and he looked up to Qrow's niece.

"Yang," he asked softly. "What is it that you want?"

She looked up to him, and she was so lost. Oscar had looked like that, when he finally woke up in the hospital. His heart broke all over again to see that look on Qrow's niece, and he hated that he was the one that put it there.

"I just…" she started to say. "I just… I want to know her."

"You know something of her now."

"Yeah…" she said, looking down. "But it's not the same… I want… I want to talk to her, I want to know why she… why she did all of that."

Ozpin breathed in deeply through his nose. "You may not like her answer," he said. "Knowing might hurt you more than not knowing."

"I know… but… still…"

Oz looked at the number he'd found on his phone, looked at Yang, thought about how much Qrow would hate him for this, how much trust he was breaching with this decision. Whom should he value, in this moment? Qrow? Or Yang? He thought about Oscar visiting him in the hospital, and he knew he'd already made the decision.

"Please forgive me for this," he murmured, and dialed. Yang watched him as he dialed the penitentiary and explained that he would like to talk to an inmate there, her eyes doubling in size as she realized what he was doing. It took several minutes to connect, and in that time Ozpin put his phone on speaker and placed it on the arm of his chair. Yang darted to the floor, startling Zwei into hopping away, and stared at the phone, but he didn't remove his hand - he wanted her to know that he could and would revoke the phone call if it wasn't by his rules.

"Hello?" A rich contralto voice, firm and with an edge to it.

"... Mom?"

"... Yang?"

Ozpin held his breath, hoping, begging, that this was the right decision.

"Is it true?" Yang asked, "Did you really do that stuff they said online?"

The pause stretched out for almost a minute, a hundred thoughts playing out over Yang's face, and Oz about to say something then, "Yes, it's true."

Yang's eyes filled with tears. "But why?" she demanded, voice rising.

"Does it even matter?" the woman on the other end said. "I was young, and scared, and stupid. I made a lot of mistakes. But I've learned a lot since then, I'm a lot better now. I've thought of you every day, and that's why I wanted parole - so I could see you."

Yang was beside herself. "See me?" she asked.

"Yes. I wanted to see you. I wanted to tell you my side of the story. I want to be in your life - even if Qrow and Tai turn you against me."

Oz hissed and pulled the phone to his mouth. "It would appear that you are rusty in your tactics," he said, "Thank you for pointing that out."

"Who the hell are y-" He hung up.

"What did you do that for?" Yang demanded.

Oz closed his eyes, holding in his wince of pain. "We've heard everything we need," he said.

"What are you talking about? We barely even said two words to each other!"

"But we now know she hasn't learned anything in her time incarcerated."

"As if! How could you possibly know that?" Yang demanded, irate.

"Because she immediately tried to pit you against your father and uncle," Oz replied.

"What are you even talking about? She wants to see me! She said she wants to see me!"

"Yes," Oz conceded, "But ask yourself how she worded it: she could explain 'her side' of the story. What purpose is there being to a side of a story that involves murder? She expressed desire even if the men who had raised you 'turned you against her.' If she were truly repentant for her crimes, if she had truly learned from her mistakes, then why is she desperate to have you as a defender?"

"Well who else is going to do it?"

"Who indeed?" Oz countered. "Why isn't her brother defending her? Why isn't the father of her child defending her? Do Tai and Qrow strike you as the type to abandon family so thoroughly just on a whim?"

"She wants me in her life!"

"And all the letters she's ever sent you have expressed that sentiment, I'm sure," Ozpin said, nodding.

"Letters?"

"Yes, of course," Ozpin said. "It would only be natural for a mother away from her child to be in contact constantly - sending letters or emails, making calls even if it meant dealing with the family that abandoned her. I assume you enjoy getting the mail as a daily chore to see if you've received a letter from her?"

Her eyes were wide again, her world was tilting yet once more, and Oz was so sorry that he had any part of this. "She… she never sent any letters."

And then, finally, she cried. Ozpin worked his way to his feet and moved around the coffee table, sitting next to her. She buried herself into his frame, everything crashing down all around her as the image she had built up of her mother finally broke. Oz held her, rubbing a shoulder, rocking back and forth like he used to do with Oscar when he was smaller, when his legs both worked properly.

It was half an hour later that Tai and Qrow came home to the back end of the storm, Yang having cried herself out and sitting numbly at Oz's shoulder, staring at nothing.

"Hey," Taiyang said quickly, pulling off his coat. "How's my sunny dragon doing?"

She just hugged him, only saying, "She never sent letters…" And she started to cry again. Tai quickly started moving her to her room, and Oz worked his way to his feet again, hurting that he had done that to Yang. He and Qrow moved to the coat closet, Oz grabbing his coat and putting it on. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Nothing to be sorry about," Qrow said. "We were all waiting for her to finally break, it was just a matter of time."

"No," Ozpin corrected, looking down at his shoes, the tip of his cane. "I'm the one who caused it," he confessed.

Qrow was already shaking his head but Oz held up a hand to forestall whatever he was going to say. "You misunderstand," he said. "I know your feelings on Miss Xiao Long; and you and Mr. Xiao Long made your desire to keep her separate from her mother very clear. I violated that wish."

He didn't dare look up. The silence told him everything.

"... What?"

"I called the penitentiary after the hearing. I got her mother on the phone, and they talked."

"What?" The tone was lower, almost a growl, an unspoken threat that filled Oz with equal parts shame and guilt.

"I worked…" he tried to explain, "I tried very hard to help her. We talked about Goldilocks and what the phrase 'just right' means and how to understand-"

"Get out."

Ozpin closed his eyes and sighed. "Of course," he said. He limped out the front door, the door slamming almost immediately behind him, and his heart was somewhere in his stomach by the time he reached the car, and his vision was blurry on the ride home.


Weiss was exhausted. For some reason, over the weekend, someone had started protesting her family's company and it blew up on social media. Over the course of the week more and more people had ended up outside the Schnee Construction Company. People from all over New England had shown up with signs, chants, and anger. Her father had initially thought nothing over it, had come home saying it would all blow over since protesters never had the wherewithal to stick out whatever they were trying to change. But every day it got worse and worse and now reporters were calling for statements of him specifically, not just whatever the company line was.

And as her father came home angrier and angrier, he went for the liquor cabinet to unwind. His fury was louder and louder and longer and longer.

Dinner was an endurance run. Weiss and her mother were silent, barely moving beyond fork to mouth, and staring at their food. Whitley just nodded and agreed with their dad, not understanding that it meant that their dad's focus was now on him. Their dad was starting to critique Whitley and nitpick everything from his grades to how he dressed for school. The rich private school that Whitley was sent to with the strict uniform policy.

Last night had been particularly bad.

Weiss had been listening to her music to tune out the arrival of her father and hadn't noticed the time. She'd been busy with finishing her homework. She had only just looked at the clock and realized she had been late for dinner and had run down.

She was late by three minutes.

"Ah, the lost daughter returns," her father had sneered.

Oh no, his attention is on me now….

Her mother just stared at her plate, and Whitley seemed to have finally learned the lesson to not speak up.

So Weiss kept her face blank, calmly sat down at her spot, and waited. This was the point that her father would ring the bell for dinner and start ranting about protesters, and probably about something she had messed up on since she now had his attention.

But he didn't. He just glared at her.

"You're aware that you're a disgrace to the family, aren't you?" he asked.

Weiss didn't say a word, she just stared down at her plate.

"Speak up."

Weiss felt her breath hitched. "I am the valedictorian of my class," she replied softly, "I excel in music and choir, as you always have me sing at functions, I-"

"You're useless. A pretty ornament to put on display and nothing more."

Weiss could feel her jaw tighten. She was proud of her singing. She was proud of her grades. Because none of that involved her father.

And it had only gotten worse from there.

Her father had held dinner for an hour to dig in to her, then spent two hours through dinner haranguing the protesters, the stock prices, his plans for expansion outside of New England. All intermixed with how she wasn't a good heiress. She sat there and took it like she was supposed to: holding her tongue and saying nothing until she had a migraine. Her mother had already gone through a bottle of wine, and Whitley had somehow been excused to his room in the middle of it all to "go back to being a good son and outperforming his sisters in everything."

The migraine was still there that morning, and Weiss acted like it wasn't. She slipped to the medicine cabinet, took a single ibuprofen, and did the rest of her routine before heading to school. Her migraine got worse as the day continued, and at lunch, when she sat down with her friends, she just wanted to bury her head in her elbows and ignore the bright March sunshine that was coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Food didn't appeal to her and she just sat and ate her food mechanically, because she knew skipping a meal would be bad for her and she'd probably be hungry later.

Yang and Ruby were still quiet. They had been since the parole hearing that Weiss made sure her father never heard about by never mentioning it within a mile of Whitley. She wasn't looking forward to going home. Every day this week had been abysmal and yesterday had just been the worst. But she needed an excuse to give her father.

So despite her churning stomach and adverse reaction to bright lights, she turned to her friends, put on a smile, and asked, "Does anyone need help with homework? I'd be willing to come over and assist you."

"I'm good," Yang said sullenly.

"No homework yet," Ruby replied.

"I'm supposed to see my boyfriend this afternoon." Blake kept her nose in her book.

"Oh," Weiss said. Damn it. I'm going to have to go home.

Ruby looked at her and offered a small grin. "Want to come over anyway? You don't have to come over just because you're helping us with homework."

"I…" Weiss looked down to avoid the lights and pushed the heel of her hand against her headache. "I always need a reason…" she said without thinking.

"Reason?" Blake asked, book now closed and set aside.

Argh! I shouldn't have said that out loud! She winced and that just made her head pound all the harder.

"Weiss?" Ruby asked.

"I need a reason," she said softly, "to not come home right after school. I've always used tutoring you as my excuse."

"To avoid going home?" Ruby reached out and pulled Weiss over to put her arm around her shoulders.

"Don't touch me," Weiss said without any energy, even as she leaned into the embrace.

The three girls looked at each other. "Weiss?" Ruby asked gently.

"The protests are making things…. Difficult."

Blake looked away.

"You know what," Ruby brightened, "I think I need some help in social studies. All the dates are just so easily confused, and the reasoning behind the war was really nuanced and hard to understand."

Yang snorted. "I always need help in math."

Blake looked between all three of them and her mouth twitched to a smile. "I'll make sure all of you read something."

Weiss smiled in relief.


At Mr. Xiao Long's house, Weiss basically buried herself into the couch and ignored any sources of light or noise to try and make her migraine go away. Her friends seemed to understand and stayed quiet. Mr. Branwen was around, but Weiss didn't pay any attention. She just retreated from the world and focused on pushing the migraine away. Deep breaths, no light, just quiet and sensing and feeling her body and what was needed where.

She wasn't sure how much later it was when she finally opened her eyes and sat up. It was later, that much was obvious. It was darker out, which meant…. What? Maybe closer to dinner time? Didn't matter. She rubbed her face and looked over at everyone. As was what she usually insisted on, all the homework was out and spread around the coffee table, everyone at their usual spots doing their work. If they were doing it this late, that meant they'd probably been down the hall goofing around so as to not disturb her.

Weiss let out a soft smile.

They'd even pulled out her books and had them ready for whenever she decided to get up.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her voice still thick from her not-quite nap.

They all looked up and Ruby laughed. "Ah! The Ice Queen has pillow imprinted on her cheek!"

Yang laughed as well. "And bed head, don't forget that. The mighty princess has fallen."

"Whatever," she said with a quiet laugh, still rubbing at her forehead. The migraine had downgraded. Solid headache, but no longer impossible to work around.

Blake pushed over a bowl. "Snacks are lacking without Professor Ozpin, but Mr. Qrow was able to mix nuts and berries. He insisted we needed something healthier than cookies and cakes."

Weiss took a handful. "What's up with Mr. Branwen, anyway? He's been super sullen."

"He's fighting with Professor Ozpin," Blake answered.

"Oh? Why?"

Yang was clearly looking away.

"Yang?"

There was a knock on the door and Yang immediately got up to go answer it. Weiss shrugged and ate her handful of nuts and berries.

Then she froze.

That was her father at the door.

"Shit," she hissed, diving to the floor. She pulled over Ruby's notebook. Math. Grabbed her notebook. Flipped to math. "So, the negative in front of the y means there's an invisible coefficient of one-"

"Uh, Weiss?" Ruby looked confused. Good. All the better. "Why are you-"

"Ah, Weiss," her father strolled in, looking charming, debonair, and in his best white suit.

Dammit. That meant he'd talked to reporters.

"Hello, Father," she stood, straightening out her skirt. "This is a surprise," she offered demurely.

"Really?" her father said. "I came home and you weren't home yet. I was worried."

He'd come home early? Shiiiiiiiiit.

"I had texted Klein that I was going to be tutoring my friends. I haven't seen them since-"

"Come, Weiss, we'll talk more on the way home. Our driver has the engine running."

Her jaw clenched. No. Not home. Not now. She saw the signs. This would be bad.

She let out the softest of sighs. "Of course, Father."

"Weiss?"

She looked at Ruby. Offered her best fake smile. "I'll see you all tomorrow." As soon as she could get out of the house.

Blake was looking with narrowed eyes, Yang was starting to get angry, and Ruby… Ruby looked sad.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Not going to cry. Don't shed a tear. Not in front of him.

She blinked it away and followed her father out the door.

"Really, Weiss?" her father said with shame and disgust. "You're lowering yourself, you know."

Her jaw clenched again and Weiss resigned herself to letting her migraine come back. "Grandfather made a point of always helping others. I'm continuing the family name by tutoring my classmates-"

"Oh yes, keep up that good name of the family," her father retorted, turning to look at her just a few steps from the front door, "but helping that sort?"

Clenched jaw. Slow deep breath.

"We are all in the same class together," she replied. "It was the best way to better my grades by-"

"Then we'll get you a tutor and I'll call your school to get you into an honors class or some such," he said dismissively.

Her jaw worked hard to hold back what she wanted to say. "I'm the one tutoring," she repeated herself in the vain hope he would remember this time. "Teaching is one of the best ways to ensure one knows the material-"

Her father sliced his hand across and cut her off. "You're not listening, Weiss," he said firmly. "I did a background check on that motley group."

Weiss felt her eyes widen and knew she was probably getting pale.

"You know that that Yang girl is half criminal? Her uncle probably still runs scams. I won't have you-"

"She is not a crimi-"

"And with that sketchy uncle doing half the raising, I'm sure that the garnet girl-"

"Her name is Ruby."

"Whatever, I'm sure she's learning to steal as well. You're being deceived and manipulated, Weiss," he said so softly and gently. "Don't worry. I'll protect you."

Weiss could feel her jaw straining to hold back her screams and curses. She took a very deep breath.

"One can't judge someone based off of their family," Weiss said firmly. "Yang has had no contact with her mother, and Mr. Branwen works very hard-"

"You will not associate with criminal riff-raff like that!"

Weiss instinctively took a step back. "But-"

"And that Blake is the worst," her father continued as if he hadn't just shouted. He looked at her pitiably. "I thought Blake was a boy. It did your father proud to hear you even mentioning a boy. But instead it's a girl. And clearly a Belladonna. She's clearly been the worst influence, given her parents. Given their stance on things it makes sense that they couldn't even figure out the gender of their own child. Lounging around with criminals and political upstarts. Look, you have pillow marks on our face, you really were lounging instead of tutoring. Now you're lying to me. That Belladonna girl is the reason you're like this and you won't be seeing any of this sort again."

"You can't do that!"

"You're grounded Weiss, until you understand who to associate with."

"Father-"

"Now come along. You've already made me come all the way out here and be polite to-"

"You know, you're lacking in politeness," came the graveled voice of Mr. Branwen. From right behind Weiss.

She whirled and he was right there, in the front door. Oh god, her father said all that on the front steps? Ohhhh, she was certain all her friends had left the door open and heard all that.

"Mr. Branwen," she started, "I apologize for-"

"Weiss, you've got nothing to apologize for," he replied. "Mr. Jaques-ass here, is another story."

She immediately covered her mouth to hide a snort.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, Mr. High and Mighty thinks it's okay to insult a man and his family on his own front steps?" Mr. Branwen stepped forward, slouched and hands in his pockets. "You can get the fuck off our lawn."

"Yeah!"

Weiss turned and saw Ruby and Yang both in the front door, standing straight, arms crossed, and looking down their noses at her father.

"Jaques-asses aren't welcome in homes of love and tolerance!" Yang growled.

"And Ice Queens are always welcome in homes of love and tolerance!" Ruby proclaimed.

And behind them, Blake was leveling a look of cold fury.

Oh, her eyes were getting wet again and this was going to make it so much worse once she was home, but it meant so much.

Her father merely scoffed. "Thank you for proving my point entirely. Come along, Weiss."

"You don't have to," Mr. Branwen said softly, looking her right in the eye and so gently.

If only that was true.

She curtsied as she was taught. "Thank you for everything," she said politely. I'll be back, she mouthed.

Because she wasn't going to be grounded. She wouldn't be taken away from her friends. They were the only bright spot she had right now.

She turned, back straight, head held high, shoulders back. She wouldn't let her father take this from her. Not at all.

"Of course, we'll have to fire Klein," her father was saying as she demurely got into the back seat with him. "And your behavior, young lady…"

She clenched her jaw.


Author's Notes: Drama chapter is drama. We did say we were drama authors first, right?

We don't get the chance to do it with everybody but we liked the idea of referencing fairy tales with their associated characters, and here's the first example of that. Philosophy Professor Oz leads Yang through a line of thought to get her to understand that Tai and Qrow might not have been right in holding things from her, but that they had to make a very hard decision and did the best they could so that they could fix the relationship. As an added bonus Ozpin, whom we've hinted is an abuse survivor, immediately recognized Raven's language as divisive and manipulative, something that took us years to recognize on our own.

The Raven arc is now basically closed, Yang has learned a lesson and will be a little more mature for it.

Weiss' plate meanwhile keeps spinning. Hers takes the longest to resolve over the course of the fic and as a result her arc kind of wanders in and out of the fic. Also, migraines. One of us suffers from chronic headaches/migraines and they suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Note that Weiss choses to keep the peace and go back with her father. Next time... well.

Also, OzQrow drama. Qrow's had a bad couple of months, hasn't he?

Next chapter: Oz and Qrow finally, really, talk.