Part Twenty-Five

Blake was a zombie when Weiss found her. Right on the edge of the athletics field, in a thin shirt and jeans, shivering and catatonic, Weiss saw she had been… sick… and crouched down next to her sister in all but name. "Hey," she said softly. Blake didn't respond, and Weiss carefully reached out to touch her arm. It was ice cold, and Weiss pulled off her winter coat and tucked it around Blake's shoulders. She still didn't react. Weiss saw one of the assistant principals coming over, saying something into a walkie talkie. He asked if Blake was okay and Weiss shook her head, unsure how to answer.

They got her to her feet somehow, and Weiss walked her all the way to the nurse's office. She saw Yang in the main office with Mercury Black before he walked off with the SRO. Weiss tried to catch Yang's eye but couldn't, and for now she stayed with Blake, taking her to the nurse and sitting her down and just… holding her. She hadn't seen the picture that was going around yet, but she didn't want to see it either. Instead she moved her hand up and down Blake's arm, trying to warm it and pressing her head next to her dear friend's. It was the end of their period, the bell rang, and Weiss asked if she could stay here with Blake instead of going to fourth period. The nurse agreed and called ahead.

"Excuse me, is Blake here?"

Weiss turned around. "Ruby! She's over here!"

"Blake!"

Ruby darted over and sat on Blake's other side, but she was still unresponsive. "Help me get her warm," Weiss said. "I don't know how long she was outside without a coat."

Ruby nodded, snuggling up to Blake and snaking her small hand into Weiss', effectively trapping Blake in their supportive hug. Fourth period was quiet, heavy silence as the nurse did her business and Weiss and Ruby tried to pull their friend back from the brink. She warmed up slowly, going from numb to shivering, and Ruby and Weiss kept exchanging glances, worried.

Then, something wet fell on the back of Weiss' hand, and she tilted her head to see twin tears roll down Blake's cheeks, and all at once there was a pained wail, and Blake crumpled into herself, the emotion pouring out of her. Weiss and Ruby held her tight, unable to think of anything else. She cried for an eternity it felt like, rocking back and forth, taking shuddering, ugly breaths. Weiss was near tears herself, and she saw the occasional tear leak out from Ruby, but they both understood that words wouldn't really be heard at this point.

Oscar came in with trays of food for lunch, uncertain what else he could do, but Ruby assured him this was more than enough. He watched, eyes sad, but nodded and went back to the cafeteria.

"Blake!"

Mr. Belladonna towered over everyone, and Weiss watched him crouch down and gently put his massive hand on his daughter's cheek. "Blake…" he said gently.

She looked up, and her golden eyes were puffy and red, shiny; her face was pink, almost red, and seeing her father she started to cry again. Blake collapsed into her father, and he gave a grateful look to Weiss and Ruby as he took over comforting her.

The rest of the school day was miserable: students kept disappearing to the office, word spread like wildfire that the pic was a rape pic and that anyone who liked it was a perv. Weiss didn't understand how anyone even knew about what happened Halloween - Blake had bent over backwards to make Weiss and the others swear up and down that they not tell anyone what happened and never gave a straight answer if someone asked why she was out for so long. Weiss worried that an upperclassman knew something and she dreaded telling Blake that everyone now knew what she went through.

Weiss kept her phone off for the rest of the day, she didn't want to see what her feed looked like and wasn't sure she would ever post anything ever again. The walk home was quiet, but they all agreed to go to the Belladonnas. Weiss texted her sister while Ruby explained to Mr. Qrow and Professor Ozpin. It was an hour walk to her house and they knocked politely.

Mrs. Belladonna opened the door, and she smiled, but she shook her head. "She's not really up to seeing anyone right now," she said softly. "She'll love that you came, but…"

"Of course," Weiss said quickly. "We understand. We'll call later and make an appointment."

Mrs. Belladonna smiled again, and stepped out of the house. "Where do you want to be dropped off?" she asked. "The least I can do is take you somewhere."

"We can go to our place," Yang said, face dark.

Weiss and Ruby exchanged a glance, knowing that Mr. Tai wouldn't be home until almost supper, but Mrs. Belladonna agreed, grabbing her keys inside and walking them over to her car. Yang took the front seat, but not before Weiss noticed that her hands were shaking slightly. The ride was darkly quiet - Weiss kept looking to Ruby but she shook her head, uncertain what Yang was thinking.

They piled out of the car and into the house, Yang pounding down the hall to their room and leaving Weiss and Ruby scrambling to say their goodbyes.

"No," Mrs. Belladonna said. "I just got a text from your father; he won't be home until almost six, and your uncle until four-thirty. You girls shouldn't be alone right now." Her eyes trailed down the hall where Yang disappeared. Weiss pursed her lips but made a decision.

"I'll check on her," she said, asking Ruby with her eyes if she would take care of Blake's mother. Ruby nodded, and Weiss moved down the hall to the sisters' room, knocking on the frame before entering. Yang was spread out on her bed, and she pulled into a sitting position when Weiss came in.

"Yang…" she asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, looking away.

"You know… it's okay if you're not okay." Weiss sat down next to her friend.

"I'm perfectly fine," Yang growled, head whipping around and her eyes red in the fading afternoon light. Weiss leaned back, startled by how harsh her friend's voice was, but Yang let out a sigh, head dipping down. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just… I don't know what to do."

Weiss leaned forward, putting a hand on Yang's shoulder. "None of us do," she said. "None of us have ever been through this before."

"It's not just that," Yang said, running a hand through her hair. "You have this giant family - and they suck but they're all in one house and you have recitals and dinners and… I didn't have any of that. My mom left me. Ruby's mom left too. Dad was shut down and Uncle Qrow was just… in and out. And when he was in he wasn't… he wasn't himself, and sometimes he was a little scary. I had to pick up the pieces. I had to keep things together. Alone. I can still remember waking up and making fried eggs, because that was all I knew how to cook, for Ruby when she got up. Lunch was PB and J, and dinner was cereal because I wasn't tall enough to reach the microwave yet. Dad would just wander the house and…"

"I'm sure it was very hard," Weiss said, putting a hand on Yang's back.

"It was better when we went into therapy, but Dad still had to go to work, and Uncle Qrow wasn't better yet, and I still had to look after Ruby. It's not that I minded, but how's an eight year old supposed to look after a seven year old? I was the one who decided to stage an intervention for Uncle Qrow."

Weiss listened, unsure where this was going, sad to hear that this had all happened. The family was always so happy, so positive, it hurt to hear how dark things were.

"All I wanted to do was protect them," she said. "I was eight, I had no idea what I was supposed to do, but I still wanted to be there for everyone. I want to be there for Blake…" Her face crinkled together, pain washing over her features, and Weiss hurt all over. "But she won't let me."

Weiss took a breath. "She's afraid," she said. "And… in a way… I understand. She sees how much this is hurting everyone - even herself - and she blames herself for bringing this down on all of us."

"But no one blames her!" Yang said, fierce again. "Why does she keep doing that? Why does she think it's her fault? How can I be there for her if she doesn't let me?" Her hands were shaking.

"Because that's how it works in her head," Weiss said, shifting to face Yang better. "Father was - is - very good at this. Nothing bad that has ever happened is his fault - it's his CFO for missing something, or middle management for not taking a firm hand, or me for not listening to him. When you hear that over and over… no one ever told me different, and you believe it when it's said. Blake… I don't know what their dating was like, but when Father ambushed me in front of the school last year, she said she knew that look, and that Adam had that look. Right now, she can't even comprehend that this isn't all her fault."

"But so what?" Yang asked. "I don't care about any of that!"

"But she thinks we all do," Weiss said. This she had learned in therapy with Winter. "She's blaming herself, so she thinks everyone else will, too."

"But that's not right!"

"Of course not," Weiss said quickly. "But that's what she feels, and I can speak to personal experience that breaking that cycle of thought is very, very hard. You remember what I was like in middle school - you thought I was this haughty spoiled princess." She made a face. "I… probably was. But more importantly I was busy being as perfect as possible, because if I was perfect then Father might not be mad when he got home."

Yang finally pulled out of her anger, turning to look at Weiss, violet gaze wide. Weiss couldn't quite hold the gaze, and she glanced down. "I don't blame Blake for wanting to hide," she said softly. "I ran away from home, so I know how rash decisions are when you feel that cornered. But… a lot of people are looking out for her." She looked up to Yang. "It's not just you anymore, so you don't have to do everything. She'll come out when she's ready, and we'll be there for her. In the meantime… I know we're not the closest, but I'll be there for you, too."

Yang's eyes welled, and she pulled Weiss into a tight hug.


Blake stayed at home for three days to process how ruined she was. Her phone was off and on her parents' nightstand - she didn't dare turn it on for fear of a slew of texts and dick pics and harassment. All she could think about was the text: more where this came from. How many poses had she done before she realized what was happening? Before she managed to leave?

She had to go back to school, had to face everyone who knew what a slut she was, how easy, and how stupidly naive. Thinking about it would send her into an emotional maelstrom, and even spending two hours with her counselor didn't turn it off. He'd been by twice a day for the last three days, helping Blake, and when he wasn't there her friends knocked on her door.

The worst part was knowing they didn't blame her, because they should. This was her fault for being so stupid, and she didn't deserve their kindness.

Eventually, though, she realized she couldn't shut them out - Yang at the very least would break her door down - and… she didn't want to hurt them more than she already had. On the third day she opened the door instead of her mother. Ruby was at the door and looked shocked to see her, but that lasted all of half a blink before she jumped and threw her arms around Blake, saying how glad she was to see her back.

"Are you eating?" Weiss said, stepping in. "You look thin, and pale."

"I'm trying," Blake said. "It's hard to keep it down sometimes."

Weiss nodded, as if expecting this. "I'll ask Mrs. Kali to make some ginger tea. That helps me when I'm sick."

They moved upstairs to Blake's room, Ruby permanently attached to her hip, hugging and squeezing and hugging in turns, nuzzling her face into Blake's shoulder. "We've been really worried," she said, sad. Blake sat down on her bed, Ruby at her side while Yang sat at her desk. "You weren't answering any of our texts."

"I haven't turned my phone on," Blake confessed. "I'm afraid to look at the messages."

"You can turn it on now," Yang said, gaze intent. "I'll scroll through and delete everything."

"I don't want to delete it yet," Blake said. "I don't know if the police will want it. They've talked to me but… I don't really remember much."

Ruby squeezed even tighter, and Blake felt the emotion start to build up. She screwed her eyes shut, fighting it back. "I'm such a wreck," she said, voice watery. "I hate myself so much. I was so stupid. I don't know how…"

"Blake," Yang said, leaning forward. "No one blames you."

Blake rested her head on Ruby's. "They should."

"No," Ruby said as Weiss came in with tea. "You shouldn't be blamed for anything."

"Ruby's right," Weiss said. "If I can't be blamed for what Father does then you can't be blamed for what Adam does."

Blake stared. "Wait… what?"

Weiss shrugged her shoulders, leaning against the desk next to Yang. "We can all agree that my father is a terrible person, and we can all agree that he does terrible things. I spent my life thinking that what he did was my fault because I wasn't good enough. You all have shown me that that isn't true. Therefore, by that same logic: Adam Taurus is a terrible person and he does terrible things. He didn't do those things because of something you did or didn't do - he was going to do those things no matter what you did. The smartest thing you did was run away that night, and he's trying to convince you that instead of being smart it was stupid. Well I, for one, think it was smart."

"Smart, and brave," Ruby said, rubbing Blake's back.

Blake… she'd never thought of it quite like that. She'd always been so focused on how easy it was to be tricked… how stupid she was to fall for the act… but the whole point was that it was an act. Adam played his part so she could fall for it.

"Do you think…" she asked, a thought occurring to her. "Do you think he really had a rough time with his parents? That his story about being emancipated was a lie?"

"Does it matter?" Yang asked seriously. "He said whatever he needed to to make you feel sorry for him so he could get what he wanted."

Blake blinked, the revelation settling over her slowly. She felt like her entire world was shifting, just a few degrees, but somehow it was also a hundred-eighty. A hundred conversations and text chains filtered through her head - she almost wanted to pull them up and go through them, to highlight the turns of phrase, the things he would say, as she slowly came to understand - truly understand - the game he played with her. Only… instead of feeling stupid, naive… she felt angry, manipulated. She'd never felt angry before during all of this - frightened, anxious, depressed, jittery - but never angry. Yang was right: it didn't matter how terrible Adam's situation was, he used it to use her. How could someone weaponize their pain like that? Worse, how could someone make something like that up just to get brownie points?

"I-" she started to say, but she wasn't sure what words were going to come out. Her worldview was still shifting, and she needed time to wrap her head around it. "Thank you," she said instead. "I think… I think I want to see my phone."

Ruby stiffened around her, pulling her head back to look at her friend. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Blake nodded. "I don't want to see the messages yet," she said, "But… I want to see some of Adam's texts. I want to see…"

Had it really been so obvious?

Yang got up and got her phone, Blake turned it on and unlocked it. Sixty-eight messages and posts were waiting for her, and she sucked in a breath to see the number, feeling the anxiety flood her synapses again, but she ignored them and opened up her text chains to Adam.

"What are you doing?" Weiss asked, her tone concerned.

"I want to see if I can see the manipulation now," Blake said, scrolling up. "I want to see if he was really that obvious."

"How did you two even meet?"

"In a parking lot," Blake said. "Mom had stopped off to buy some wine for a dinner date she and Dad were going to have, and she never lets me into the liquor store. Adam was there, and we just started talking. He was on my street a week later, surprised to see me again." She stopped, snapping to attention. "... that was a lie, wasn't it? He planned on seeing me again. Does that mean… he told me he loved reading, literature, fantasy and romance novels. He said he wanted to be an author but was afraid his work wasn't good enough. I thought it was so amazing to find someone who liked what I liked…"

She looked down at her phone, but she didn't even need to see the text messages anymore as she realized how much of Adam's life had been constructed to her specific tastes. The shame was still there, the self-hatred that she had fallen for all of it, but now there was anger, too. Anger that someone like Adam existed in life. Anger that he played a game with her feelings without caring one lick about the pain he was causing. Blake was shaking again, but it was a different kind of shaking.

"I… I hate him," she said, and she saw the intense gaze of Yang and the knowing look of Weiss. "I can't believe… how does someone just… do something like that? I'm so mad. I'm so mad!" She wanted to throw her phone across the room, break it in half for all the texts that were in there. "He… he did this to me."

"Yes," Weiss said firmly, crossing her arms. "He did do this to you, and now you have to figure out how you get to react to him."

Blake blinked, not connecting the dots. "What?" she asked.

"She's asking," Yang said, "if you're going to keep playing his game."

"I don't listen to Father anymore," Weiss explained. "I ignore his contacts and forward them to Winter. He's tried to get Mother to call - and that's harder - but I know that I can't listen to her either because if I do I play into Father's game. He doesn't control me anymore because I don't follow his script."

Blake blinked, still feeling like her processing power was so slow, that these things were so obvious. "I don't want to play his game," she said, and she was startled to hear how intense her voice was. "I don't want him to keep manipulating me. I want… I want to go to school. He wants me home, doesn't he? He wants me to feel small, to feel helpless, so he can swoop in. I don't…" She shook her head. "I need to go to school."

But sixty-eight messages…

"But I don't know if I can…" The anxiety hadn't gone away, it wasn't fixed, and the idea of all those other students thinking what they did of her. "What has everyone been saying?" she asked, glancing at her open phone, but still so uncomfortable with the idea of reading it.

"There was an assembly yesterday," Ruby said, still attached to Blake, but she pulled back to face her more fully. "They talked about online harassment and made us read the school handbook so we knew what the consequences were. A lot of people have been called down to the office or to guidance."

"They didn't say your name," Weiss said quickly, "And they talked about class rings and some other things, but it was kind of obvious they were trying to head things off before it got too bad."

"... maybe that's why there's only sixty-eight messages," Blake said, eyes drifting down to her phone. "What are the kids saying?"

"I took care of that," Yang said, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her knees. "They won't say anything."

Blake - and Ruby and Weiss - looked to Yang in confusion. "I don't get it," Ruby said, "What did you do? You didn't say anything."

Yang reached out and held Blake's hand. "I texted Velvet, Cocoa, Fox, and Yatsuhashi. They're upperclassmen, and said anyone getting off on that picture was a perv for liking a rape pic. They remember Adam and said he was creepy as hell, and they spread the word."

… what?

what?

"You… you told them about That Night?" Blake asked.

Yang frowned, confused by the question. Her hands started to shake. "Well, yeah," she admitted. "How else was I going to get them to stop bugging you?"

"Yang!" Weiss said, but Blake didn't have time to process her friend's tone. She was stuck on the fact that Yang told people about That Night. The school knew what happened…? They knew… they knew… about… all of it…?

"How could you do that?" Blake shouted, standing so suddenly Ruby fumbled to the floor. Weiss visibly startled but Blake was too busy staring at Yang. "How could you do that?"

"What?" Yang said, leaning back. "I was trying to help you."

"That was private!" Blake shouted back. "You three were the only ones who knew anything! The only reason I was able to go back to school last year was because I knew nobody knew what happened, I thought I had a shred of self-respect! I thought even if I hated myself it would be okay because nobody knew!"

Yang was blinking rapidly, still confused and why was she confused, what right did she have to be confused? "I was trying to help you!" she said, standing up to see Blake at eye level. "Those texts were awful and they didn't understand how much they were hurting you. They didn't get what a problem it was 'cause they were too stupid to see past a beautiful girl half naked posing like some kind of… some kind of…"

"Some kind of what, Yang?" Blake demanded. "Some kind of slut? You think I didn't know that? That was better than the whole school knowing what had happened."

"But it got them to stop!" Yang defended. "Why is this even bothering you?"

"So should I tell the whole school about your intervention with Qrow?" Blake shot back. Ruby whimpered on the floor and Blake knew she was fighting dirty but Yang had to understand. "Should I tell them about how scared you were when Qrow found out you had dumped all the booze down the sink, about how close he came to hitting you when he realized you were the one who did it? Should I share how your dad had to step in and shout at him, tell him they didn't know how else to get through to him? Should I mention how long you were crying after Qrow said yes to rehab?"

"Blake!" Yang shouted, and she was in Blake's face now, but Blake didn't care. "Even Weiss doesn't know about that!"

"And that's the point," Blake hissed, thrusting a finger at Yang's chest. "The whole thing was painful, it hurts to remember, and you just put it on a sign for the whole school to hear about!" Tears rolled down her cheeks, she wiped at them angrily, and she took a shuddering breath, hiding her face in her hands. She growled, so full of emotion she didn't even know what to do. Things were falling out of her mouth that she didn't want to say - she knew for a cold fact that she'd just hurt Ruby badly, and she'd put Weiss in a terrible position, but what else could she do, she didn't know how to handle what had just been revealed to her - she was finally starting to get her head around Adam and now this…!

"Leave," she said from behind her hands. "Leave before I say something else. Oh, my god, please… I don't want to hurt Ruby again… Weiss…"

"I've got it," the heiress said softly. Blake half sat, half fell back to her bed, and she sensed Weiss as she collected a shell-shocked Ruby and left her room. Yang was still there, stayed for a long time, but eventually she left, too.

Blake shook, hot tears streaming down her face. Her phone, on the floor, buzzed.

She looked at it, saw it was a text from someone. She unlocked her phone but… instead she started typing.

Ruby, im sorry.

Weiss, im sorry.

She flopped back on her bed, and she took a deep breath.

She had sixty-eight messages to read.


Ozpin came home to see a note from Qrow saying he was spending the night at Tai's, something was up with the girls. Ozpin texted if everything was okay, but Qrow never answered, a testament to where his focus was. He asked Oscar about it but he didn't know either, only that there was some kind of fight at the Belladonna's - and he only knew that because Weiss had texted asking if he knew what happened last Halloween.

"And what did you say?" he asked.

"I told the truth," Oscar said, "That Qrow texted you at three a.m. and you went running to see what you could do. You never said what the problem was, and I got the impression not to ask."

Oz nodded, adjusting his glasses. "I suppose some of the details have been released."

"Well yeah," Oscar said. "Apparently Blake was assaulted…?"

Ozpin winced. "There are some very private details to the story," he said, sitting down. "Much like talking about your mother, the details are left to a trusted few."

Oscar looked down, and Ozpin took a sip of his hot chocolate, contemplating. The evening was quiet, and not in a good way, but Ozpin wasn't sure how much to share and Oscar wasn't sure how much he was supposed to know. He didn't see Qrow until the next day, and it was obvious he had gotten little to no sleep the night prior, sitting on the couch staring at nothing, dark circles under his eyes and the same vacant look he had the night of the hospital. Ozpin sat next to his love, carefully traced circles on his back to let him know he was there.

Qrow looked to him, wine colored eyes haunted. "I never told you about the intervention," he said, his voice rough as sandpaper.

Oz frowned, wondering where this was coming from. "You have not," he admitted. "But that was a very dark time in your life, and you had Tai and Clover and rehabilitation to work through that rough patch to come out the other side. There is no need to talk about it because the surrounding issues have either been resolved or rearranged in such a way as to no longer be a problem. You do not drink anymore, for one, and you have created an intricate support system to curb any temptation you might have. What need has there been, therefore, for you to discuss it?"

"Oz, out of all the shit I ever did… that was the darkest day of my life…" He tilted his head back, pressed it into the back of the couch. "I need a drink for this, but I can't drink…"

Qrow had not expressed such a need in months, and Ozpin worded his next sentence very, very carefully. "What do you need me to do to help you? I can sit and listen, I can make you hot chocolate - perhaps you would prefer soda."

"Soda," Qrow said, closing his eyes. "The carbonation is as good a replacement for the burn as I get."

"Duly noted," Oz said, standing and moving to the kitchen. Oscar was there, doing his homework. He looked up and the question was all over his face, and Ozpin leaned in. "Work upstairs for a while," he said softly. "This might take some time."

"... Do I need to worry?" Oscar asked, just as quiet. "I heard him say he wanted a drink…"

"I understand, but for now there is no concern. If there was I would certainly let you know."

"... Okay," Oscar said. He closed up his books and notebooks and moved upstairs, leaving Ozpin to get a can of soda and go back to the living room. Qrow hadn't moved, but he took the can of soda and popped it open one-handed, knocking it back and guzzling for two, three, four, five gulps before he pulled back for an exhale.

"Sucks," he muttered, "It's not the same."

Ozpin waited, gave Qrow time to start the story himself, or perhaps explain why he had hinted to such a dark memory. The silence drew out, Qrow drinking his soda and staring at nothing, and Oz had the sense that this was what he was like in that period of time, his "rough patch" as Clover had once named it. Should he call the sponsor? Oz decided to wait, instead asking, "Is there something you feel the need to talk about?"

Qrow finally looked to him, his stubble fuller than usual. "It was batshit crazy," he said, "When Summer was diagnosed. It was already pretty bad with all the shit from Raven, but they were getting better, you now? Yang and Ruby were growing up, Tai was better - we thought he was better - and Summer… she was just like her namesake; all sunshine and warmth."

"The diagnosis must have been devastating."

"Lasted half an hour before I went to a bar and tried to forget it," Qrow said. "I was drinking since I was fourteen, in college the four of us would go to these parties and Summer would get all these blackmail pictures of the rest of us and it was fun. Funny. After Raven… I didn't know it but I had a problem. Tai and Summer… they grew out of the parties but I didn't. Bi-Disaster, you know? When Summer… things went bad. I couldn't face her leaving, and I wanted to get black-out drunk, like if I did then somehow it wouldn't happen. I wasn't…" He drifted off, and there was a darkness there, something Ozpin saw only very rarely.

"... I wasn't there," he admitted, and his voice was shaky. Compassion drove Oz to put a hand on Qrow's shoulder, squeezing it. Qrow took a hitched breath but no tears fell, long since spent. "Tai had to take care of her all by himself and I was too fucking busy drowning in my own fucking self-pity. Jesus, I was piss drunk at the hospital when they had to tell us it was terminal and I don't even remember the last two months. The day of the memorial I was passed out in a bar, I didn't even…"

Ozpin leaned in, drawing Qrow into a hug, nuzzling his hair. "Sh," he said. "It's okay."

"I spent two years shit-faced, Oz," he confessed, "I can't ever get it back. Tai shut down, he was a fucking ghost, nobody was there to look after the girls. Even when Tai pulled himself out of it he couldn't be there full time, because there were all the medical bills to pay, he had to work and they were in elementary school. Fuck… fuck…"

The storm broke, and Qrow broke, grabbing desperately at Oz as he was swept away in his own emotion, his own self-hatred. The veneer of being vaguely put together, of being the "cool uncle" - it only loosely covered these feelings. The self-deprecation, the "bi-disaster," the signs were all there, but even when Qrow was brutally honest about his past, about his dark times, the air of it being in the past always permeated his words. But, then, Salem was in his past, and still she reached out from his nightmares to affect him in the now; it was only logical that the same would happen to Qrow, and Ozpin silently swore to himself that he would always be there for Qrow, to keep him from ever falling that far again.

The emotion eventually faded, but Qrow didn't let go even as the catharsis faded to numbness. Ozpin knew this feeling intimately well, and simply waited, rubbing his thumb along the back of Qrow's wrist, resting his head on his partner's, holding him through the pain.

"... I was so hung over…"

The words were mumbled into Oz's chest, he almost didn't make them out. He shifted his weight to give Qrow more space.

"All I wanted was a drink, but the girls had taken all the booze in the house and washed it down the drain, and I couldn't find anything. I was so fucking mad, and nine-year old Yang walked right up to me and told me she did it. Jesus Christ, a fucking nine-year-old was smarter than me, but all I could hear was that the booze was gone and I-"

"Stop," Ozpin said, caressing Qrow's cheek. "You don't need to tell me this, you've come so far from-"

"Oz, you don't understand. Fuck. I don't understand - I was so goddamned mad; I grabbed her wrist. I was gonna fucking beat her for getting rid of the-" He couldn't finish the sentence. "Tai came home and pulled me off her, Ruby was screaming at the top of her lungs and I…"

"And it didn't happen," Ozpin said firmly.

"But it was gonna," Qrow insisted, shaking his head. "I didn't care. I didn't fucking care, all I wanted was fucking drink. Only thing that stopped me was Tai giving the best damned uppercut of my life. Actually knocked some sense into me and I saw… fucking Christ…"

"I know," Ozpin said, pressing his forehead to his lover's. "I know. I'm so sorry."

"They were scared of me. Those two perfect little girls… I was a fucking monster…"

"It was the addiction," Oz corrected. "It wasn't you, it was the addiction, the addiction was the monster."

"Oz…!"

The second storm broke, a shaky inhale dissolving into a wet grunt of pain, and Ozpin held him a second time, leeching as much of the pain out of Qrow as he could, rocking back and forth, ears burning with the confession. What had happened to make Qrow relive such a dark moment in his life? He assumed it had something to do with the nieces, Yang and Ruby. The memory must have been dredged up for some reason, and Qrow had dropped everything to reassure them that it was all safe, that everything was okay. No wonder he had spent the night, and now, no longer needing to put on a face, he broke, raking himself over the memory and cutting open every scar and scab it created. This was the Qrow who drank away his problems, too hurt to face even more pain, and too afraid to drink with such a haunting image etched into his memory.

All Ozpin could do was be there for him. He saw Oscar sneak down the stairs, silently asking how things were going. Ozpin shook his head, nodding that it would take more time. Oscar gave a thumbs up and went back upstairs.

Clover called at dinner, having heard from Tai, and asked if he needed to come over. Ozpin agreed readily, admitting he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

Qrow's sponsor came over and didn't even give Oz a second glance, moved to the living room and sat on the coffee table in front of Qrow, leaning in and saying something softly. Oscar was at the top of the stairs, and Oz moved halfway up to talk to his son.

"Qrow has had a bad day," he explained. "He is reliving his darkest memory and hating himself for it, but he will not fall to it."

Oscar nodded, hazel eyes drifting down the stairs. "I've never seen him like this," he admitted.

"Perhaps," Ozpin said, reaching up and touching his son's knee. "But you've seen a version of this: the day I saw your scars."

Oscar's eyes widened as he connected the dots, and his eyes went downstairs again. "Is that what he's reliving?" he asked. "His version of that day?"

"Yes," Ozpin said. "I cannot in good faith spin pretty words for this; he wants to drink because he wants to forget the pain, but he is smarter than he was in those days, and many people are making sure he doesn't fail. That is why Clover is here."

Oscar nodded. "I got a text from Ruby," he said quietly. "This all started at Blake's house. I guess Yang told everyone at school what happened last year." Dear god in heaven. "Blake was mad when she found out, and she brought up… she brought up that."

"... What a profound mess this is," Oz said, running a hand through his white hair. He took a deep breath through his nose and adjusted his weight. "Very well. This weekend I will pay a visit to the Belladonna's. I have to assume by then that Qrow will be in better straights."

"It's okay if he's not," Oscar said softly. "I'll watch him, make sure he's okay."

"Oscar…" Ozpin shuffled up two more steps to hug his son. "That's not your responsibility," he said. "Tai, Clover, and I will handle it. You focus on your schoolwork - hard as it is in times like these. The adults will figure out our own problems."

"Dad…"

"Please."

"... Okay."

Ozpin hopped back downstairs to see how Clover and Qrow were doing: Qrow was stretched out on the couch, back to the world. His sponsor saw Ozpin and stood to talk to him.

"It's bad," Clover said.

"I gathered as much," Oz replied. "He told me about the day of the intervention."

"I know. We all have to hit rock bottom before we can climb up, and that's his rock bottom."

"He painted a frightening picture."

Clover nodded. "It was frightening. Tai called me right after it happened, he was this close to hurting himself. Like, really hurting himself. I had to do some pretty fast talking to pull him back, and even then the thing that finally cinched it was little Ruby asking Qrow if there was a way for him to get better."

Ozpin winced just to hear it, let alone picture it.

"They're so happy now," he said softly. "Even with Qrow's brutal honesty it's hard to imagine…"

"I know," Clover said. "They've all come a long way. Especially Qrow."

"Thank you," Ozpin said, "for being there. For doing what you could."

Clover blinked, his green eyes wide, before he smiled. "You say that like you mean it."

Oz frowned, confused. "I do," he said.

Clover nodded to himself, as if confirming something. "You are something special, Professor. Look," he added. "Should I stay the night, or do you think you can handle it?"

"I think…" Ozpin frowned, considering the question. "Could I text you if I encounter a problem?"

"Yeah, do you have my number?"

Oz smiled. "Qrow has told me having your number would be a disaster."

A ghost of a smile crossed Clover's lips as he pulled out his phone. "Just for that I'm going to make sure that comes true," he said, "So expect some flirty texts when this is all over to rattle his cage. If you really want to see him hot and bothered, flirt back. It'll be good for him."

"I'm not sure I take your meaning, but I bow to your expertise," Ozpin said, programming his phone.

"I am so telling him you said that," Clover said. He looked up when he was done. "Don't text me, call me. If it's really bad I know all the right words."

"Will it be that bad?"

Clover looked over to Qrow, hiding on the couch, pensive. "... I don't think so," he said finally, turning to Ozpin. "After all, he has you."


Qrow became more of himself the next day, and more still the day after that. Oz and Oscar treaded carefully, but by the weekend Qrow was smiling, and Clover did indeed send a lascivious text that Ozpin promptly showed Qrow - coyly asking what it meant and watching his partner sputter and curse before calling his sponsor.

Taking that as a sign that they had turned a corner, Ozpin called the Belladonna's, learned more about what happened and also asked permission to stop by that weekend. He called Tai as well, to learn that he was handling Yang and Ruby and had the situation well in hand: including a pointed conversation about privacy and agency to Yang in the same breath as soothing her over having such a dark memory trudged up and weaponized against her.

"What a holiday season," he said to himself as he drove to the Belladonna's. He couldn't even believe how close to the end of the semester it was - finals were coming up and he hadn't even written one yet. Sunday was going to be difficult. Still, he parked in the driveway and rang the Belladonna's door. Ghira let him in with a warm smile and offered him hot chocolate, which Ozpin took gratefully.

"How is Blake doing?" he asked.

"Back in school, thank goodness," Ghira said at first brightly but slowly fading. "I'm sure you heard about her fight with the Xiao Longs."

"Enough to know it was ugly," Ozpin said, "Ugly enough to affect the adults."

Ghira winced. "Kali heard it downstairs. I was at work. I'm mad at little Yang, but no one should have had that thrown in their face. Blake crossed a line."

"As did Yang," Ozpin said. "Moments of heightened emotion bring out the ugliest parts of ourselves." He held out his bread basket. "Sugar cookies," he said, "for the season. Yes, they are vegan. I used flax eggs."

"That's very kind of you," Ghira said, taking the basket. "Are you here as mediator?"

"I suppose that is one way to label it," Ozpin said. "I confess when I called asking to come by it was out of emotion: Qrow took the blow very hard when the fight came home, as he figures prominently in the story."

Ghira winced, pulling out the cookies and placing them on the counter. "I can only imagine," he said. "We had her talk to the crisis counselor, she stayed almost two hours, I think. There was a lot to unpack."

"Then my visit may indeed be superfluous," Ozpin admitted. "But no one can deny that Miss Belladonna has been through an ordeal, and I wanted to do what I could to help."

"At this point I'm not ashamed to admit I want all the help we can get," Ghira said with a sigh. "I know adolescence is meant to be a trial for both the child and the adult but… I feel Blake has gotten an unfair deal for this."

"Perhaps she's merely burning through the difficulties now," Ozpin offered lightly, "So that the later years will be smoother, conflict free."

"Ever the optimist I see," Ghira said with a weak smile. "She's upstairs."

"Thank you," Oz said. He grit his teeth at climbing the stairs, but he managed them, and knocked quietly on Blake's open door frame. "Well," he said, putting on a bright face, "This has certainly been an eventful week."

Blake was curled up on her bed, a book he had leant her, oh, back when summer started, in hand. Beauty and the Beast? Yes, perhaps that would work. "Professor…" She put the book down and immediately stood, pulling her desk chair over. "Here, put your foot up on the bed."

"Thank you," he said softly, taking a seat and doing as she offered. Blake reclaimed her spot on the bed, hugging her knees. "I was hoping that maybe we could have the chance to talk."

"Of course," she said.

"Wonderful," Ozpin replied. "I should start, I suppose, by saying I admire your drive. I don't know if you know this, but I was at the hospital the night of your… assault."

Immediately, she stiffened, her guard up. "... You were?" she asked.

"Yes," Ozpin said gently. "Qrow texted me at three in the morning, saying you and Yang were in the hospital. I came immediately to see what I could do. I'm not family, of course, so I could not go beyond the waiting room of the ER, but I stayed until Qrow came out to tell me the worst was over. We were all very, very relieved to hear that the worst had been avoided."

"... I see," Blake said, still so guarded.

Ozpin tilted his head, not exactly playing dumb, but needing to make a point. "Have I misunderstood something?" he asked lightly. "You are both alive, and as I understood it that was not a certainty for quite a while - particularly in regards to you. That is any parent's worst nightmare, and such a crisis was averted. Anything after that…" he gestured with his mug of hot chocolate. "But I have lost track. I was saying that I admired your drive. Tragedy befell you that no one deserved, and though it weighed you down it did not break you. You found a way to get back on your feet, go back to school, and regain echoes of your prior innocence."

Blake looked away, dark hair falling across her eyes. "You're wrong," she said softly. "I did break. I'm still broken."

"Ah, but aren't we all?" Ozpin asked. He paused, frowning, giving the question a moment to breathe. "But perhaps it is insensitive of me to say that right now. I do not mean to dismiss the pain you have suffered, and if I misspoke I apologize."

"No… it's fine, Professor."

Oz nodded, taking a sip of his chocolate. "A lesson I continue to learn in life, old as I am these days, is that our greatest lessons are told to us from time immemorial, often in the form of fairy tales. They are anecdotes, morals, ways to make children behave at first glance, but I find when one looks deeper, under that veneer, there are more profound lessons these tales can teach us. Take that book, for example," he said, pointing his chin to Beauty and the Beast. "Like many other fairy tales, it has hundreds of incarnations: from French surrealist film to animated musical to stage play. Even the lesson - presumably the one fixed part of a fairy tale - has changed over time. Sometimes the lesson is given to the Beast, to learn to be a better person in the face of true kindness, but originally the lesson was for the Beauty, to know that there is beauty in even the darkest of visages. While I find both morals to be problematic in modern times, I find the conflict keeps cropping up."

"I… don't understand," Blake said, letting go of her knees and letting them naturally cross, letting her guard down. "Problematic?"

"Yes," Ozpin said, playing with his cane with his free hand. "The lesson to the Beast - to be a better person, promises the reward of the Beauty, as if she is a prize to be handed out when certain progress markers are met. The lesson to the Beauty, that there is beauty in anything, was designed specifically so that women of the time would learn to love their fated husband regardless of how they were treated, because the beauty was in there somewhere. The lessons are optimistic but incomplete."

Blake was frowning now, mind turning to the puzzle.

"Here is what I would posit:" Ozpin said. "The true lesson is in the questions the tale brings up, it's central conflict: what is the true definition of beauty? What truly makes a beast?"

There, Blake's eyes flickered, and she put together some of what Ozpin was leading her to. She looked away, but her knees didn't lift up, meaning she was still open to further discussion. Ozpin let the moment hang, gave his student time to think, to process, to assimilate. Then,

"You know a beast, as I understand it," he said softly. This was where he needed to be the most careful.

"... Yes," Blake said. Her eyes darted down, but they sprung right back up. "I'm starting to realize how much of a monster he was."

"... I was a fucking monster…"

Ozpin bled a little inside, but he focused on his lesson. "Tell me," he said, shifting his foot slightly, "What made you realize he was a beast?"

Young Blake took a breath, putting her thoughts together slowly. "He… he wasn't real," she said, frowning slightly. "Everything he told me was a lie. Everything he said was just a means to an end."

"Artifice, then. Insincerity. In this we can both agree, they are disreputable qualities. Their words, by design, are used to beguile even as in truth they are meant to cut deep. They leave scars," he said. Blake's hand went to her side, and his gaze softened. "Some of them can be seen, yes, but the worst ones are invisible."

Blake stiffened again, but instead of putting her guard up her gaze intensified, narrowing. "... What do you mean?" she asked, a leading question and one Ozpin was happy to answer.

"I mean that some scars are on the soul," he said, placing his chin on the pommel of his cane. "You are left changed, knowing that before it all happened you were different, perhaps stronger, and now you are unable to return to that younger, more innocent self. Your worldview is darker, more cynical, more distrustful. You gaze at people you thought friends and question their every motive."

"How…?" Blake hadn't put her knees up, but there was a layer of defense up - not a full guard, but the very mistrust Ozpin had just cited. "How do you know about that?" she asked.

Ozpin took a deep breath, letting his eyes close, remembering. "Because it happened to me," he said. "I met a beast pretending to be a beauty - and unlike you it did not end in one sudden catastrophe but a series of small needles to bleed me dry. Qrow knows it, too - he found a beast within himself that he didn't even know existed - and it scared him sober." He opened his eyes, giving Blake a soft but firm gaze. "That beast has recently been dragged up," he said pointedly. "I wonder what happened."

Blake looked down, guard crumpling as she realized another of the points Oz was leading her. "I'm sorry," she said, staring at her hands. "I didn't mean… it doesn't excuse it but the words just came out of me. I didn't even realize until after… I'm sorry; that it hurt Qrow, too."

"Perhaps you should tell him that," Ozpin said softly, gently. He removed his chin, straightening and looking Blake fully. "What is Beauty and what is Beast? The fairy tale plays with these ideas but none of its various permutations comes to a conclusion that I feel is complete, because it presupposes one or the other. The beauty of the inner soul: of humility and grace despite the poverty of the original Beauty, or the beauty of a Beast so twisted in physical deformity but still gentle and generous. These qualities the tale laudes regardless of its telling. I find, however, that the qualities it debases are overlooked in more recent iterations: the idea that the inner soul can be absent of ugliness in both Beauty and Beast is incorrect. The tale denounces the fawners and pretenders, the shrill sisters who want jewels and crowns, the huntsman consumed by his own ego."

"The villains," Blake said.

"No, the antagonists," the professor corrected. "They are not evil for the sake of it, as a villain would suggest. The fairy tale, in effect, is a commentary on the qualities of one soul, spread out across different characters. It is only when that is considered that the lesson of Beauty and the Beast is complete."

He paused again, gave young Blake a moment to consider his words. He remembered the tale of Goldilocks with Yang, and how carefully he had to maneuver that lesson, and later Snow White with Weiss. He watched his student carefully; she said a lot with her eyes, and he saw when her mind got stuck.

"... What are you saying?" she asked. "That everyone has a Beauty and Beast in them?"

"Yes," Ozpin said. "The fairy tale is a critique on what parts of the soul are Beauty and which are Beast. Moments like this," he gestured, "when we are cut to the quick, or bled dry, they bring those facets out into the open, and we have to examine them honestly. That night at the hospital, Qrow felt his Beast come out, and he called for help before it was unleashed. That night, Yang displayed her Beauty, she ran to save a friend in danger. That boy showed he was a Beast, and has actively squandered every moment of Beauty that might have been in him. But there are flip sides to those moments: Qrow showed his Beauty when he was humble enough to ask for help. Yang unleashed a Beast inside her to protect you."

"How do you know which is which, then?" Blake asked. "How do you know…?"

"That is a question for one of my lectures," Ozpin said with a soft smile, "and why I study philosophy." He shifted in his seat again. "Your very namesake, bella donna, is a nod to Beauty, did you know that?"

"Yes."

"Then, now I must ask you: which part of you do you want others to see? The Beauty? Or the Beast?"

Blake looked down, hugging her arms - not a guard but a kind of defense, protecting herself as she admitted a hard truth. "I'm not sure that there's much beauty in me," she said. "Naïveté, maybe, stupidity. And… there is certainly a Beast." She looked up, her eyes dark. "I really am sorry. For what I said. I was… after everything that's happened, that was the first time I was mad. Weiss was telling me… I was finally starting to see the Beast in Adam, really see it, and I couldn't believe…"

She paused, took a breath. This was the moment, Ozpin could sense it.

"Yang… she told the whole school about what happened that night," she said, her voice small. "She just…" She shook her head. "Is that Beauty or Beast?"

Perfect. Ozpin smiled and leaned forward again. "That," he said, "is the greatest strength and greatest weakness of humanity: it was both."

Blake snapped to attention, straightening in the shock of the sentence. "... what?"

"For the Beast: she took a deeply private moment and aired it out to the entire school, affecting your social standing in ways I know better than to suggest. On its face, it was a breach of trust and privacy and perhaps most importantly agency. She did not ask your permission to do what she did, nor did she seek your counsel. You are right to be angry with her - you should be angry with her."

"But…?" she prompted.

Ozpin took a slow breath, choosing his words. "For the Beauty: she saw a dear, beloved friend being attacked on all sides by circumstances beyond her control. She saw you sick with anxiety, she saw you bleeding in an alley as I understand it, and she loves you enough that she wanted it to stop. The night of the assault she let out that Beast to protect you, and here with a faceless enemy she did not know where to point that aggression, and in her desperation to sooth your pain she caused more. Her beauty is in her heart, the compassion and empathy, her fierce desire to protect those she cherishes."

He slid his foot off the bed and stood, taking a moment for his hip to adjust to holding his weight. "I am in no position to offer counsel in such a situation," he admitted, grunting as he got up. "That is a deeply personal decision, and whatever you choose is the right decision for you. Thank you, Miss Belladonna, for listening to the ramblings of an old philosophy professor." He turned to leave, stopping briefly at the door and turning back to her. "It's good to see you doing better," he said softly. "Keep fighting, use your drive to lift yourself above these Beasts that haunt you."

He left her to her thoughts, navigating his way down the stairs to see if there was more hot chocolate. Perhaps Qrow would like some when he returned.


Author's Notes: Today's word of the week: Fallout. Our big antagonists - Jacques, Salem, and especially Adam - tend to do a thing and then it ripples out to other people in the fic. Yang tries to do the right thing but realizes she did a wrong thing, and real drama comes up not just between them and Ruby/Weiss, but it reverberates to Qrow.

The scene with Qrow is another favorite; he feels really human here, and the memory is so dark but also so human and so intense and poor Oz is just trying to keep Qrow from self-destructing all over again even as his heart bleeds for him. Also, it's a blink-and-miss it line but it really says something when Oscar, who jumps at any whiff of a need to look after/take care of Oz, now jumps to look after/take care of Qrow. Those two have made a lot of headway.

Clover again steals his scene, but it's a softer steal compared to to the others, and unlike the others he gently gives the scene back to Oz with his last line - which... d'awwww.

And we get our third philosophical diatribe on the nature of fairy tales.

Next chapter: Weiss really shouldn't be ignored in all this drama, huh?