Part Twenty-One

Ozpin reflected that while Oscar's guidance counselor was to be commended for having many books lining a shelf that had shelves bowing from the weight, having such a stuffed bookshelf in an office that was already tiny was perhaps ill-advised. As it was, there wasn't enough room for Ozpin, an unusual height of six foot six, to let his bad leg be out straight without hitting a bookcase, a desk, or something else. Instead, he needed to let it bend, pushing bits of bone in his knee into his actual kneecap.

Oscar sat beside him, slouched, sullen, scowling, and sulking, arms crossed and ignoring the icepack that the nurse wanted him to keep by his side. Ozpin was at a loss. He knew that Oscar wasn't adjusting well to him being with Qrow, but he couldn't understand why. Oscar had made a point of saying that he wanted him happy, had seen them being together as friends for well over a year now. Nothing had really changed, so why was Oscar now so recalcitrant?

Everything had been a flurry of activity. Oscar had been pulled from young Cardin Winchester, students pulled from the bus to explain what they saw, cell phones pulled to show video, as well as the school's security cameras. Ozpin had told Qrow to go home. He still had his nieces and their friends to look after, and this was going to take a while.

Knocking, the guidance counselor, a plump woman, came in and Ozpin stood both to shake her hand in greeting and to alleviate his leg somewhat. They shared polite greetings as she walked by him to take her seat at her desk, shoved against the wall with the window and she spun her chair around, giving Ozpin even less room for his leg.

He held back a sigh as he sat down and bent his leg even further than he had before, ignoring the pain. Administration had already been by to talk to Oscar, and Ozpin had been saddened that his son refused to talk about why he had attacked the Winchester boy. Ozpin could take a decent guess and and brought it up, asking what was being done to stop the Winchester boy from bullying fellow students, mentioning the long history between the Winchester boy and Oscar, over a year now.

A lot was discussed. The sad fact was that Oscar threw the first punch, and would be getting ten days out of school suspension. The Winchester boy would be getting ten days of in school suspension. Ozpin hadn't found that fair and disagreed strongly, but by throwing the first punch, school guidelines were clear. After that, Ozpin had wanted to see Oscar's guidance counselor to see how to progress from there.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me," Ozpin said, adjusting to try and find a straighter position for his leg. "This is the third fight Oscar has been in within two years. I do not wish for this to continue and would like to know what steps we should be looking at to address the situation."

The counselor smiled and nodded. "We also have this concern. Oscar is never a problem in class, works hard, by all accounts is a good friend and growing to be a fine young man. We agree that this is most unlike him."

Ozpin nodded, glancing over at his son. Still sulking. Ozpin gave himself a small moment to sigh. "I am going to be forthright with you," he said softly. "I have started to see someone. For years it has just been Oscar and myself, and I believe at least some of his struggle is adjusting to my now having another person in my life."

The counselor nodded, pulling out a pad of paper to take notes. Ozpin glanced at Oscar, hoping he might say something, contribute to a conversation that was ultimately about him. But Oscar remained silent.

So Ozpin turned back to the counselor. "Oscar was initially happy to hear I had met someone, but in the course of introducing him to my life, having help so that Oscar doesn't have to do so much and can live more as a child, Oscar has been displaying resentments."

"It's fine, Dad."

Ozpin turned and looked to Oscar, who had finally spoken. "When Qrow was just my friend, you had no issues. Now that we are together, it has been difficult for you to adjust. Both Qrow and I have talked to you, asked what you needed, but still you struggle. I'm outside my field of expertise. Guidance is here for such things."

"I'm fine."

"Your actions distinctly say otherwise," Ozpin said softly. "I just want to help."

Oscar rolled his eyes and Ozpin just let out another soft sigh, turning to the counselor. "You can see what I mean."

"I'd recommend he join one of our groups. He can talk about his feelings free of parents and vent. It'll be a safe space for him, away from Cardin. Cardin will be facing different interventions."

"That is very much appreciated," Ozpin said. He turned to Oscar again, wishing for his son to say something, but Oscar was scowling even more strongly than before. Ozpin turned back to the counselor and hesitated. If Oscar was going to have free reign to vent, it was likely that he might bring up his mother, and Ozpin didn't want the school to be ambushed by that. But something that both Ozpin and Oscar rarely discussed with anyone outside of each other was Salem. So few people understood what an abusive relationship was like, so few understood the nuances of living in fear or the weight of never talking about it. If he truly wanted Oscar to be able to discuss his feelings freely with a counselor, Ozpin would have to provide some background.

He took a deep breath. "If Oscar is going to have the safety of freely discussing things, there are aspects of our history that we've never discussed when we enrolled here."

Oscar sat up. "Dad!"

Ozpin looked to his son. "If you are to have a truly safe space to talk about things, it will come up."

"No, Dad! I don't want to ever talk about it."

"Then perhaps you should be talking about it with someone." Ozpin offered a broken smile. "I am perhaps the worst person to discuss it with. Hiding it does nothing, and it is only because Qrow knows and understands that I was able to start my relationship with him. We can't hide our scars forever, we must simply be cautious who we share them with. A counselor will be someone safe. We've hidden this long enough."

"Dad!"

"Are you willing to start talking about why you've been so sullen lately? Beyond teenage angst?"

Oscar's mouth closed.

Ozpin nodded and he turned back to the counselor. "My ex-wife, Oscar's mother, was very abusive," he said, reaching up and pulling down his turtleneck. He gave the counselor credit. She only widened her eyes for a fraction of a second in surprise.

"That," she said firmly, "is horrible. I saw on Oscar's files that his mother is to never pick him up or sign him out from school?"

"And if she does show up, the police should be called," Ozpin said. "We have a restraining order."

"Dad, stop it! This isn't about Mom!"

Ozpin turned, adjusting his leg as he could, because it was getting more painful the longer he was in this cramped little office. "Oscar-"

"No, this isn't about mom! This is about you kissing Mr. Qrow in front of the entire school!"

Ozpin blinked, having not expected that. "What…"

"We all saw it! You kissing Mr. Qrow in the parking lot in front of everyone! You're supposed to be giving me time to adjust and you just-scream it in front of everyone? How is that giving me time to adjust? I walk into a room and Mr. Qrow is massaging you; you get home and Mr. Qrow gets dinner while kissing you; I wake up and Mr. Qrow is helping you stretch! Can't you two just… just… not? Not do so much stuff together?"

"Oscar," Ozpin said with more calm that he was feeling, "Qrow and I-"

"Just don't do all that stuff! Especially in front of the entire school!"

Ozpin stood up to his full height and slammed his cane against the ground. That cut through Oscar's yelling as he looked up to him. "Oscar, I will not hide myself. We have both needed to hide, both from and because of your mother. I will not hide who I am because after all these years, I am finally proud of who I am. Now that you've been silent about things all afternoon to stew and have exploded, you are now going to be silent and think about what you just said and what it means in context. We will discuss things tonight after you've had time to cool off and think. Since you haven't participated in a conversation with your counselor to find methods of helping you, I will continue to have this conversation with your counselor without any input from you since you don't seem to have any. You are also grounded during your suspension."

"What?"

"Am I clear?"

"But, Dad-"

"Am I clear?"

Oscar clenched his jaw shut.

Ozpin turned back to the counselor and painfully sat down. "Now," he said, "what sort of programs were you thinking of?"

He wasn't looking forward to the icy ride home.


"And it was as frigid as I expected," he said, sitting alone at dinner, Oscar claiming he wasn't hungry and staying upstairs where he had run to.

"I gotta admit Oz, still a little shocked that you didn't say more. The kid effectively told you to stay in the closet."

"I wasn't going to use the litany of vocabulary you just uttered," Ozpin said, rubbing his forehead. "That would only aggravate the situation. And I know how it sounds, but us being the same gender isn't what's bothering him. I know that much from when I came out to him. He's upset that other students saw us kissing before school set out."

"Oz, no one was outside."

"But there were three floors of classes facing us, it's not that I don't understand his embarrassment but-"

"Oz, adults are supposed to embarrass their kids. Have you not noticed the teasing I give Yang while we all wait for her to come out?"

"I suppose…" Ozpin said. "But we've never been like that. To my knowledge I've never embarrassed him before now."

"Yeah, but there's a difference there. You two had that bitch in your lives. There wasn't room to be embarrassed. The kid thinks he's supposed to take care of you, make up for everything you went through."

"I'm not unaware of that, Qrow, but what am I supposed to do? Nuance or not, he's upset that I'm happy. I don't…" He sighed, rubbing his forehead again. "I don't know what to do," he confessed.

"No one ever does, Oz. We fuck our way through it and pray we do it right. I've got years of mistakes I've made to my nieces, way worse than what we did this afternoon, and they still turned out alright, and for some reason they still love me."

"Qrow, you are a remarkable uncle to them; don't sell yourself short."

"And the same goes for you. I've got an hour before I have to leave for shift. Do you want me to come over?"

"... No," Ozpin decided. "Seeing you might make it worse, and I have two weeks of his sulking to wade through."

"So… what? Is Oscar going to make you not see me so the little shit can feel better?"

"No, I-"

"Whatever. It's fine. I gotta go."

Qrow hung up, and Ozpin stared at the phone, blinking at the sudden downward turn. His stomach hollowed out, and he looked at his rushed salad and lost all his appetite. He put his head in his hands, phone pressed to his forehead, wondering what he could do now that the two most important men in his life were mad at him.

Sighing, he got up and leaned on his cane, packing up his half eaten salad for compost and limping to the living room. His knee was bothering him, and he sat in his chair and put his foot up. He sat there for a long time, and ugly as it was he felt like he did after Salem: a living disappointment, a failure, unable to help the people he was supposed to love. The sensation was dark and low, something he hadn't felt since the closing on the house - knowing he could provide a roof over Oscar's head and food in his belly.

How could he appease both? How could he help Oscar become acclimated to sharing him, and Qrow to understand how important Oscar's opinions were? He felt numb, inside and out, and he wasn't sure if he even had the energy to get up and go through the process of going to bed. Sitting in the silence was a dark pace to be - it evoked memories of her, after a fight: the silent treatment; or the heavy silence of sitting in his car and summoning the energy to go into the house, to face her after seeing seven messages on his phone and knowing she was in a bad mood.

"It's not the same," he told himself. "It's not the same…"

He was in an old pattern, an old habit. There had been a fight, and he sat in silence feeling the failure. That was not the appropriate response now, because it was not Salem who was the participant in the fight. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to get up again. Pacing wasn't going to be much better, but at least it wasn't sitting, he moved to his office, turning the light on and drifting his eyes over the bookshelves. He pulled out his book of fairy tales, one of the main sources for his graduate dissertation and flipped it open, eyes scanning the index. There had been precious little outside of clothes that had followed him from the west coast, but this had been mandatory.

Ozpin closed his eyes, turning the problem over, constructing the tale, the moral. Yes, that might work.

He left the tome on his desk after a gentle caress, and went through the effort of going up the stairs. His leg gave ghastly spasms of pain for the effort, but he knocked on Oscar's door.

No answer.

Silent treatment…?

Oz shook his head, trying to shake off the automatic emotional reaction. He steeled himself and twisted at the knob; it was unlocked, and he entered Oscar's room. The bed was up against one wall, a small half-bookshelf acting as a window seat, a desk on the opposite wall. Oscar was sitting on his bed cross-legged, reading one of his textbooks.

"Oscar," he said softly. "We need to talk."

To his credit, his son took a deep breath and put the book away, gesturing to his desk chair. Ozpin sat, leaning his chin on his cane and regarded Oscar. "Who should start?" he asked.

Oscar's hazel eyes were an open book, there was a lot he wanted to say, but he turned away quickly, crossing his arms and shutting the thought down. Right.

"Once upon a time," Ozpin said, "There was a pauper prince. The boy grew up a pauper, only to be discovered by his royal lineage later. He was expected to perform his princely duties, but after living in poverty he had no idea the power he had. He came to his duties thinking he would not have much say in the law of the land, but his bitterness made him say many things without understanding the power his words had, nor the damage they wrought. Entire families were torn apart by him, and he none the wiser for it."

"Sounds a little melodramatic," Oscar said, voice low and sullen. "I'm not trying to tear you apart."

"Aren't you?"

"No," Oscar said, more emphatic this time. "Look, what did you expect? You both promised me you would give me time to get used to it, and I'm trying - I promise I'm trying - but then you broadcast yourselves all over the middle school-"

"Correction," Ozpin said. "We shared a private kiss in an empty parking lot without realizing that we could be seen from the windows."

"That doesn't change anything."

"Correction again, that changes intent. We had followed the rules you had stipulated; there was an unforeseen error, but we did not deliberately go against your wishes."

"Does that even matter?" Oscar countered, trying to hold the debate. "The consequence is still the same - everyone thinks you're a fag now, and the bullying is going to get even worse. I remember your tale about the toxic jungle, and I'm trying to get into clean air, but this whole thing has-"

"I understand," Ozpin said, holding up a hand. "But here is the salient question: what do you wish me to do about it?"

"There's nothing you can do is there?" Oscar said. "It's all out in the open now, the damage has been done, and I'm left being more miserable in school that I usually am."

"There is something I can do," Oz said, pulling out his phone. "But before I suggest it I would posit that you fail to see the power you have over me. Consider this: We did not leave until I saw that your mother was doing to you what she was doing to me. I planned that escape for your safety, I put this house in your name for your safety. Everything I have done even before the escape was to keep you as safe and comfortable and healthy as possible. You are, without question, the most important person in my life. When Qrow and I discussed having a relationship I told him unequivocally that you had to come first. He readily agreed. That is the level of power you hold over me; that, your highness, is the decision you must make:

"Do you want me to break up with Qrow?"

The question hung in the air, Oscar staring in horror at the question. Ozpin didn't say anything, let the silence breath, using it for positive change instead of negative self-doubt.

"I can't make you… What… How would I even… I can't make you do that!"

"Can't you?" he asked, holding the phone up. "You are the most important person in my life. I would sacrifice everything - and that includes my own happiness - for you. You have told me, more than once, that you feel responsible for me after everything that happened. Very well then: take that responsibility, and tell me what to do."

"Dad, I don't want you to sacrifice your happiness…! I don't want you to break up with Mr. Qrow…!"

"Then what is it that dissatisfies you, your highness? Is it that Qrow and I are both men?"

"No, I told you that!"

"Then why do you cringe when you see us expressing our love for each other?"

"It's just weird," Oscar sputtered. "You never did that kind of stuff with mom and, like, I get that because she was really scary; but now you're doing it all over the place with Mr. Qrow-"

"Correction: we do it here at home, or in the car, exactly as stipulated by you."

"Dad, don't split hairs right now. I come down in the morning and see him sleeping in your bed while you're getting breakfast, or he's massaging your leg when that's my job, or he's ordering dinner when I'm the one who's supposed to cook when you've had a bad day."

"Oscar," Ozpin said, still holding up his phone. "Why are you so upset about Qrow alleviating you of responsibilities you were never supposed to have?"

"Because it's my thing," Oscar said, voice intense. "I'm the one who's supposed to take care of you, because Mom never did, and no one else was ever there to do it!"

Ah, now we're getting somewhere. Ozpin pressed: "So you would drop everything and take care of me for the rest of your life? You would be shackled by me until your hair is as white as mine out of obligation? Children do not exist to take care of their parents - it's supposed to be the other way around."

Oscar growled, his entire body shifting with energy. "That was never our family, was it?" he demanded. "Both of us had to take care of Mom and make sure she was always happy and calm her down when she was mad, and even when we were perfect it still wasn't enough. Now we're finally safe and it can be just the two of us. I like living here, we didn't have to be afraid all the time, you could relax and it was really good - and now a new guy is here. What if he's just like Mom? What if I have to make sure you can catch your breath after a fight? What if he decides to come home drunk or something? He's an alcoholic, right? He's said as much more than once - what if-"

But Ozpin had gotten up and hobbled to Oscar's bed, pulling him into the tightest hug he could offer. He kissed his son's head and pressed his face into that soft mess of brown hair. Oscar resisted, tried to pull away, but the anxiety was out in the open now and it bled out of him.

"I'm afraid to share you… I'm the only one who doesn't hurt you - even Mr. Qrow hurt you - he gave you the silent treatment last year when you talked to Yang. I have to take care of you… no one else will…"

"Sh…" Ozpin whispered, rocking back and forth. "Sh… I know. I know. I understand…"

"I don't want him to hurt you…" and Oscar's voice was watery. "You're so happy… but what if…"

"I know… I know…"

Oz waited out the storm, held off on saying anything and just comforted his pauper prince. He looked at the phone in his hand, thinking, before he unlocked it.

Had a breakthrough. We need to talk, but later.

For now, he had to be there for his son.


Being grounded sucked; even after several meetings with guidance and a couple of very uncomfortable conversations with Dad, it wasn't that Oscar didn't understand he was in the wrong for throwing the first punch. It wasn't even that he didn't understand that - right as he was to be angry at Cardin Winchester - that his overanger came from a lot of other places. He was starting to resent that his Mom had messed up so many parts of his life, including the parts that she wasn't supposed to touch. He got the need to talk to someone, and he loved his Dad for taking on as much of that role as he could - but grounding?

He sighed, wondering if all this talking was going to change anything. He was still uncomfortable with Mr. Qrow dating his Dad - he may have better understood why, but that didn't make the feeling any less.

For now he ducked upstairs when Mr. Qrow came over, wanting his dad to be happy but not wanting to irritate himself - and thereby make his dad unhappy. Mr. Qrow wasn't Mom, he knew that in his head, but he didn't know it yet in his heart, and that's what he had to work on.

Working on it while banned from being anywhere but home after school didn't help. Not going anywhere on the weekends didn't help. Sighing, he wondered if maybe he should spend time with Mr. Qrow without his dad, try and figure out what he needed to be okay with the relationship.

Oscar sighed again, looking up at the ceiling. It was Thursday, one of Dad's late days on campus, and it was almost five. He must've hit traffic. Mr. Qrow was with his family, Oscar had the entire afternoon to himself. His homework was long done, he'd just finished his book, and he was bored.

He pulled out his phone. ETA? He asked.

Just as he hit send he heard the garage door - his father was home. Oscar got up and darted downstairs, opening the door for his Dad.

"I'm sorry," Dad said, coming in with his briefcase. "It's the end of the semester. Is there anything in the fridge, I don't remember doing a food list this morning."

"No, and no," Oscar said, "All we have left is flour and sugar, some crackers and frozen pizza."

His dad made a face, clearly tired and always distasteful for frozen foods. "No help for it, I suppose," he said.

Oscar nodded. "I already did the food list, and I picked a recipe for the weekend, and I made a list of what we need to restock for longterm cooking. All that's left is the food money."

"Which I provide," Dad said with a smile. "Very well, let's take a trip to the store. Are you hungry?"

"Not yet. Crackers, remember?"

"We can get something from produce. Maybe a rotisserie chicken or sushi. That way we can eat as soon as we sit."

Oscar agreed, and they filed into Dad's car; his dad making a face at the thought of more driving. Oscar brought the list and the grocery bags, piled neatly on his lap as they drove three-quarters of the way to the Xiao Long house before turning in a different direction, passed the pharmacy for Dad's medications and to the chain grocery store.

They always bought just what they needed, Dad saying frivolities were best saved for when they were out of debt, and every two weeks they made a list and bought what they could in bulk. There were two stores: the bulk store and the grocery store. Bulk came first because they were mostly dry goods: pasta, hard cheeses, toilet paper, vitamins, coffee. Oscar drove the cart while Dad navigated the isles with the list, picking out items and looking for the best buy before gesturing for Oscar to add it to the cart. They could keep in the car, and after that was the grocery store three lights down. They spent most of their time in produce, Dad picking and nitpicking what vegetables, fruits, aromatics, etc were the best quality. After that was miscellaneous supplies: mouth wash, toothpaste, the occasional battery, cuts of meat to be frozen for later usage, milk - and yes, frozen food for when they were desperate.

The checkout line was long, Dad was shifting his weight back and forth, meaning his leg was hurting from the long drive and an hour of food shopping. That meant a bath tonight, and a massage if there was time before bed. That made Oscar feel good, like he was doing something for his father.

Oscar darted to the far side of the checkout line, beginning bagging while his father pulled out his wallet to settle the bill. It took every bag they had, but Oscar started shoving the cart forward so they could get home. It was seven thirty at night, the sun low in the May sky but not yet set. Dad was lagging behind, his leg bothering him, and Oscar set himself up by the trunk and waited for the lights to blink and say it was unlocked.

A shadow passed over the car from the side opposite Dad, and Oscar looked up to see a mountain of a man, thick and muscled, looming over him. He frowned, remembering the size, the dark hair, the-

He froze.

Gretchen's brother.

Hazel Rainhart.

Oh, no.

Oscar had two urges spur simultaneously in his brain: first was to run away, the guy was taller than even Dad, and what he did to his Dad… The second was realizing that his dad was just a few feet away, and in imminent danger. The two impulses warred inside him for the beat of two breaths, and he stood to his full height, glaring at the giant, fists balled to his side.

And he stood in front of the man.

The giant looked down on him, face blank. "Can I help you?" he asked, and Oscar remembered the voice from the pit stop last summer, the favor of getting him a bag of chips. The man seemed confused, as if he didn't remember Oscar. That was probably for the best, but Oscar wasn't going to give him an answer.

Rainhart moved to step to the side, and Oscar got in his way again. He was shaking all over, but this was something he could do. Rainhart frowned, tried to move again, and Oscar moved again.

"Boy, what are you doing?" he asked.

The lights to the trunk blinked, and Oscar turned at the flash, and Rainhart stepped aside.

"Oscar, what are you doing impeding a man's…"

Dad, having finally caught up, stopped talking and stared up at Rainhart.

"Hello. Ozpin."

"Mr. Rainhart," Dad said, reaching up and adjusting his glasses. "I must confess it's a surprise to see you."

"I can only imagine," the giant rumbled, sounding so calm. Oscar didn't let that lower his defenses, however. "You did a lot to stay hidden."

"Not particularly. My name is well known in academic circles."

"But your address isn't."

"Oh, really?" The ignorance was feigned, almost coy, and Oscar got in front of Rainhart again. The man looked down, face dark this time instead of confused, and his brown eyes narrowed.

"Oscar," Dad said. "It seems we've forgotten some bags. Go inside and ask the cashier if they're with her."

"Dad, no, don't send me-"

"Now Oscar. Mr. Rainhart and I have a long overdue conversation to have."

"But-"

"Please."

Oscar looked back and forth between the two, and he winced in pain as he moved back to the grocery story, pulling out his phone as he went.

SOS SOMEBODY CALL ME.

He stepped inside and all but ran to the exit, hiding behind a pile of grass seed bags. Dad and Rainhart were still talking, Dad putting the groceries in the trunk like this was perfectly normal and not a life and death situation. Oscar circled around the far side of the parking lot, giving a wide berth so Rainhart didn't see him. His phone clutched in his hand, it vibrated when he was almost parallel to the conversation.

"Kid, this had better be good."

Of course Mr. Qrow was the one who called.

"Gretchen's brother is talking to my dad," he said softly, still moving, turning to walk backwards so his eyes never left the conversation.

"And who the hell is Gretchen's brother? Oscar, we're about to sit down for dinner…"

"This is the guy who put Dad in the hospital a second time," Oscar said, voice more insistent. The beat of silence gave him time to cut to another row of case, still walking backwards, eyes locked on his dad.

"... Shit. Where are you?"

"The grocery store near your house."

"I'll be there in five. Hang up, call the cops, tell them the story."

"No, there's no point," Oscar whispered, cutting another row of cars. He was well behind Rainhart now, almost in the same lane. The man was blocking his view of his father, but now he had the element of surprise. "They didn't do anything last time." His phone was buzzing, the text he sent out getting replies, but he didn't have time to look. He finally made it to his aisle of cars, and he lowered his phone, hanging up so he wasn't distracted anymore. If - when - Rainhart did something, now he was ready.


"Now Oscar. Mr. Rainhart and I have a long overdue conversation to have."

"But-"

"Please."

Oscar disappeared, and Ozpin held in a sigh of relief that his son was safe. He looked up to Hazel, eyes dark, and deliberately opened his trunk and started putting his grocery bags away. "How have you been doing?" he asked, "What brings you to New England?"

"You have a lot of gaul to ask that," Hazel said, voice low and gravely.

"Gaul? No, quite the contrary," Ozpin said, "In all honesty I am terrified to see you, but you are a man who is aggrieved, and it's only right that you receive a space to air out what you need in order to attain closure. The accident was a tragedy, and you, the most injured party."

"Fancy words," Hazel said, crossing his arms. "But they're meaningless."

Oz took a slow, silent breath through his nose as he put another bag in his car. "I don't mean them to be."

"It took the better part of a year to find you," Hazel said. "There isn't a single house that's in your name. Didn't even know to come here until the video came up."

"What video?" he asked conversationally. "My lectures take place in several places."

"No, the video of your boy jumping a kid and you on the ground. Salem found it and sent it to me."

Salem saw us she knows where we live we're not safe what do we do how we-

"We've grown close in the last four years," Hazel said, stepping forward. "She told me how you left, how you kidnapped your boy out from under her."

"Is that how she describes it?" Oz asked, brain on fire with activity with the revelation that somewhere on the internet there was a video that Salem saw of Oscar's fight last year. It was everything he could do to stay present in the moment, to face the current danger instead of the future one. "That's unfortunate. The divorce settlement says otherwise. I assume you bringing her up was her idea. I can imagine the turn of phrase, 'Maybe let him know how worried I am; I know he is heartless but still my heart belongs to him, and I want him to know I still care.' Am I close?"

"Almost word for word," Hazel acknowledged. "She's not wrong. We both know how heartless you are."

"Mr. Rainhart, I was not the man the police were chasing who crashed into Gretchen, nor am I the rescue team that had to reach us. I was merely a man on a bike admiring the scenery. I understand your need to blame someone but-"

"I do blame you," Hazel said, finally uncrossing his arms and taking a dangerous step forward. "Because you're the reason she swerved. She was on the phone with me, she was telling me about the chase and trying to pull over, and her last words were: 'oh, no, there's a guy.' She saw you, and she swerved, and she died, because you were there."

Oz blinked, having never known this, his mind shot back to the accident, eyes drifting over the mountains and turning to see the cars crest the hill. Did he see young Gretchen? Could he picture her on her phone? But the memory was blank, all he could remember were the cars. His next clear memory was waking up in the hospital, all casts and metal pins and IVs, alone and uncomprehending. The idea of listening to someone's last words… to know that he…

Emotion welled up on Ozpin, and he blinked at it. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I had no idea…"

"Sorry isn't good enough," Hazel said. "You don't deserve to live. You don't deserve to raise that boy of yours. You don't deserve to be happy, not when all you do is rob happiness from other people."

Oscar...

Qrow…

He took a shaky breath. "I cannot heal your pain, Hazel," he said, closing his trunk. "Nothing I say or do will satisfy you, and I do not see how…" he shook his head. "Fixating on me does not alleviate Gretchen's loss-"

"Don't say her name. You don't have the right to say her name." Hazel's voice was louder now, Ozpin could hear a soft echo in the open space of the parking lot. He also saw Oscar, well behind Hazel and crossing to their aisle. No, Oscar it isn't safe…

Ozpin took a deep breath, stealing himself. "I have apologized," he said, "I have offered my condolences, and I do not know what more can be said. I had hoped to help you, but it would appear this conversation is over." He took the now empty shopping cart, laying his cane over it, and started to move away from Hazel to put it away. He made it two steps before Hazel's giant hand grabbed the cart and yanked it out of his grip, spinning it and his cane around and away. Ozpin shifted his weight instinctively, not wanting to put weight on his bad leg, and he half hopped back.

"Please," he said, hands up to be as non threatening as possible. "We are in a public parking lot, there is no need to be violent."

"Isn't there?" Hazel said, voice a tick louder. "When you say her name like you have the right to, like you deserve to be alive when she isn't?"

"Mr. Rainhart," Ozpin said, taking another step back. He was forced to put weight on his bad leg - he tried to hide the limp, one eye on Oscar, looking on in horror and please don't interject yourself in this you shouldn't even be seeing this. "Do not let your anger at me cause trouble for yourself."

"You don't know me!" and finally Hazel shouted, voice reverberating off the parking lot and turning several heads. Ozpin backed up further and further, vaguely trying to get to the store where someone might see. His leg was agony, like white hot knives stabbing into his knee, his hip grinding. "You don't know what I want!"

"You are correct," he said quickly. Back away, back away, Oscar, run! "I don't know what you want, but I can hardly imagine anyone wanting to start a fight in a parking lot. Disputes such as this should be litigated and-"

"Shut up, murderer!"

The fist was inevitable, of course, Ozpin knew it was only a matter of time before the anger completely clouded Hazel. His body couldn't decide to duck under the swing or hobble back and tried to do both, making him lose his balance and tumble to his back. Missed! He scrambled to get up, every move sending white fire through his bad leg, but those precious seconds were all Hazel needed to close the distance and grab at his jacket the neck the neck too close to the neck and pull him up, closing the foot gap in height so that Ozpin could be at a level. His feet over open air, Oz was high enough that he could see over Hazel's shoulder:

Oscar had his cane in hand, brandishing it like a sword and running up to them both. "Oscar…!"

"Get away from my dad!"

Hazel turned, Oz swinging like a ragdoll in his grip, and caught the strike with his free fist. "Oscar, run!" Oscar tried to wriggle the cane free, but Hazel turned enraged eyes to Ozpin.

"Maybe you'll understand a fraction of my pain if your son suddenly died in front of you."

Oz struggled even more. Oscar! "Please… Hazel… she wouldn't want this…"

"Don't speak of her!" he roared, and with one jerking motion yanked the cane out of Oscar's grasp. He twirled it to a better grip and lifted it over his head, but Oscar was already running away, scrambling, and there was Qrow - what - running into the fray and grabbing his son and pulling him away. Thank god! Hazel roared in frustration, and slammed the cane down on the hood of a car, snapping it in half the force was so great and oh, that was his grandfather's but Hazel then slammed him into the parked car and his hip rattled with the strike. Pain laced down his leg and up his spine. Agony. Jaw clenched to not cry out.

Hazel pushed his grip on his lapel, forcing Ozpin to bend back over the hood and now the pressure of the fist was on his chest and two inches higher it would be on his neck not the neck and what was he going to do who was going to take care of Oscar -

A hand grabbed at Hazel's bicep and yanked him back.

Qrow?!

Qrow was back again - where was Oscar? - nimble enough to swing under a rage-induced strike.

Released, Ozpin slid off the hood and to the ground, hitting the asphalt and just jarring everything. Breathe Ozpin, where is Oscar Qrow!

"You got a lotta nerve assaulting a guy with a cane," Qrow growled, arms arcing out to fists, feet spread, trying to make himself look bigger. "Cops are coming. You gonna add more to the rap sheet?"

"You stay out of this," Hazel roared. Ozpin flinched, struggling up to his knees and the pain that caused. "You don't know what he's done!"

"What, you mean limping away in terror, asshole?" Oh Qrow, did you have to act so confident now? "Or trying to tell you to calm down? You think this crowd is gonna care what he did when you were the one getting all up in his business?"

Hazel's rage had been given a new focus, and Ozpin crawled forward banging against his good knee. Oscar was there in a heartbeat - from where? - and Ozpin didn't even have time to be mad that his son was so reckless he just grabbed at the offered hands and struggled to get to his feet. His hip wouldn't let him take his weight, he crumpled almost immediately. Have to get up! All over again!

Hazel was shouting and Qrow shot back. Oh Qrow.

Ozpin leaned on Oscar, refusing to let go - had no other choice - his cane was broken - and limped to an awaiting crowd, where did they all come from... all of them quick to absorb him and hide him from the assailant.

Turning, he saw Hazel swinging wildly, roaring, but Qrow ducked and avoided every strike, and only now did Ozpin dimly realize there were red and blue flashing lights, men in blue so dark as to be black appearing from the crowd. Qrow stopped instantaneously, hands up, which gave the furious Hazel an unhindered punch to his jaw, sending Qrow spinning back and crumpling to his knees.

No! "Qrow…!"

His beloved got up quickly enough, rubbing his face, but then the cops were on Hazel, six men, wrestling him to the ground and pulling his hands behind him, reading his rights.

Qrow moved to Ozpin and pinned Oscar between them as he crushed Oz in a fierce hug. Ozpin slouched into it, holding the two most important people of his life close and refusing to let go.

"Oscar! Qrow!" He pulled back, leaned down and kissed Oscar on the side of his face, pulling him closer into a hug, then stood and grabbed Qrow's shirt to pull him in for a more direct kiss. "You're both safe. Thank god!"

Qrow wrapped his arms around the both of them. "Safe and sound," he said lightly. "You've got the bravest son in the world."

"And Qrow came," Oscar said in a watery voice. "He came."

Feelings and emotions overwrought, Ozpin just clutched them both close again.


Author's Notes: Draaaamaaaaaa; but also different types of drama.

First is the Oscar family/internal drama - he's uncomfortable with Qrow taking over caring for Oz not just because of resentment over horning in on duties Oscar always had, but he's also literally terrified of someone hurting his Dad again, and is convinced he's the only one who doesn't. That fight with Oz and Qrow? Well, Oscar has a long memory, and no matter how justified Qrow was to be mad it doesn't matter, because Oscar saw his father hurting and that's what imprinted on him. He doesn't expect anyone to come out and help his dad - because no one HAS come out to help his dad except him.

Next is the Oz internal drama - he's never really fought with his son before, and fights make him think of Salem and he has to unlearn all his reactions: no sitting and stewing, no helpless exploration of all his failures, he choses to get up and do something - and even uses silence for good instead of evil. And, more background, we learn that he and Qrow will sometimes have different reactions about Oscar.

Then there's the physical drama. Hazel shows up again and we realize he's been looking for Oz for a while - meaning SALEM has been looking for Oz in a while, and the incident with Jaune breaking Oz's leg suddenly comes back and bites them all. More on Salem a little later, but Hazel acts as a great reminder of how manipulative and charming she is to the outside world. We're so locked in Oz's perspective but there's a reason nobody guessed what was happening behind closed doors.

Also: Qrow finally gets to use his belligerence to good use!

And nooooo, the cane is broken! What were the twins thinking? Hold that thought...

Next chapter: Tai continues to play Best Supporting Character (TM) and we realize a little what Salem's been doing in the intervening years since Oz and Oscar's escape. Yang's plate is spun a little and another relationship box is ticked for the OzQrow list. In other words: FLUFF!