Part Thirty-One

Ozpin stared.

This had to be a nightmare.

Some sort of nightmare.

A dream. He must not have woken up this morning.

How? was the only word echoing in his head. How did she find him? How did she get here? How did this happen?

Ozpin stared, his mental processes askew and off balanced at seeing her before him. Her hair was white. Her eyes were weighed by dark bags and too much mascara, staining the crow feet wrinkles.

How?

And then he was physically off balance as his cane was wrenched for him, leaving him stumbling.

That took Ozpin's attention away from Salem. A man, hair pulled into a braid, was studying the cane. Then he carelessly threw it over his shoulder, off the porch, and into the yard.

Ozpin was staggering on two fronts, as the man pushed Ozpin into the house, making room for both himself and Salem to waltz right in and shut the door behind them.

How?

Some part of his brain started functioning through the shock.

"I have a restraining order. You are not welcome here," he stated.

The man laughed. "Sorry, Ozzie-kins," he said, pushing Ozpin back. "We need to talk."

Salem gave a smile to the man. "Thank you, Tyrian." She turned to him. "Come, Ozpin. Let's have a seat. We have a great deal to discuss."

The man, Tyrian, giggled as he walked over to Ozpin's chair by the fireplace, and claimed it by crouching with his muddy boots on it. Salem took the couch, close to Tyrian, and gestured.

"You are not welcome here," Ozpin repeated.

Salem gave a tired sigh, shaking her head. "Tyrian?"

The man gave a great chuckle and nimbly jumped off Ozpin's chair. In two strides, he was at Ozpin's side, grabbing his arm, before Ozpin could hobble away, and Ozpin found himself pushed down to the couch. Tyrian reclaimed Ozpin's chair.

"We need to talk."

Harried, his leg hurting, and still trying to figure out how any of this happened, he glared first at the new man Tyrian and then Salem. Clearly she had brought muscle, and Ozpin was in no position to outfight or outrun such an assailant. He was trapped in his own home, and the realization burned in him, and he turned to his ex. "There is nothing to talk about," he said firmly. "You are in violation of the restraining order, you have had your man physically attack me, you are in my home, I fail to see how you think any of this will somehow turn in your favor or-"

"Ozpin."

And even after so many years, the simple, calm, dangerous tone made him fall silent. Tyrian giggled in his chair, perhaps knowing the tone himself.

Salem took a breath, eyes closed. When she opened them she smiled. "It's been so long," she said, smooth and polite smile on her face. "Over three years. Almost four. How have you been?"

He knew this tone, he knew this track: pretend nothing terrible had happened and will the world away. Live in the delusion, the terror bubbling just below the surface. Ozpin had played that game over and over and over again. He had catered to her games in the hopes of keeping his son safe, but now he refused to play. "Things were going markedly well," he said, "Until today when you arrived on my doorstep."

A thoughtful frown, but that was all. Ammunition to be stored for later attack.

"Things haven't been so smooth for me, you know," Salem said, voice pained.

"I don't know," Ozpin said. "I do not interact with your messages."

There, the dark red glare. The long beat of silence. The calculation. She had grown more short-tempered in the intervening years, her ability to act as if nothing were the matter had eroded.

"Then let me inform you on what your abuse has done to me," Salem said, her tone more even, more measured. "After you kidnapped Oscar for your pleasure," she drew the word out like a curse, "I was left holding the bag. You left me absolutely nothing. I lost my job because of all the days I was forced to take off to deal with the lawyers and the custody battles - all the while you were hiding behind the harpy Robyn Hill doing god knows what to Oscar. I was sick - did you know that? I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. I had to go to the hospital, you hurt me so badly."

"No," Oz corrected. "My leaving did not hurt you. The illusion of you having power over me shattering, that was what had hurt you. And it should have happened years prior."

"I can't believe you would say that," Salem hissed, her teeth baring to a snarl. Tyrian giggled by the fireplace, enjoying the show apparently. "You must truly be a narcissist for you to kick me in the heart like that! You are psychotic, do you know that? You don't live in reality!"

"Don't I?" Oz asked. "Perhaps we should talk to the nature of reality and how it is perceived on an individual basis, about how one reality can affect another - be it positively or negatively-"

"Don't lecture me," Salem dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Mincing words doesn't do anything for anybody."

"And yet you mince words so concisely to win every argument you ever had," Ozpin countered. "I believe that's called a double standard."

"We're getting off the point," Salem hissed, leaning forward dangerously, Oz instinctively leaning back, eyes on her hands. Tyrian giggled again, rubbing his hands together. "We're here to talk about how much you've hurt me and what you're going to do to repair the damage. I lost my job, I was in the hospital, but I know you don't care about any of that, heartless as you are. Do you have any idea how expensive it is to live in California? How much I've had to sell off to keep my head above water? I live in squalor now, destitute and dependent on the kindness of strangers."

"I find any of that hard to believe," Ozpin said slowly, carefully. "Given that you far and away got the better side of the deal in the divorce."

"I didn't get Oscar."

Ozpin let the statement hang in the air, gauging the red eyes, the caked mascara. Then, "That is the one victory I take comfort in."

He was getting her angry, he knew that, but he was not going to give her what she wanted to hear. Since the divorce he had learned, several times over, that people could be kind to one another, that people could learn from their mistakes, that life did not have to be stagnant. Salem was immutable, incapable and unwilling to change, and Ozpin was not going to shrink himself down and put himself back in that world. He had grown since the divorce, and Salem had to see that. If nothing else, he was going to be honest with this woman whom he had spent so many years with - he wanted to honor the good memories with his honesty.

Salem stood to her full height, hands fists at her side, red eyes bulging in her glare, surrounded by the mascara and dark circles. "You-!" she started to shout, and from the corner of his eye Ozpin saw the Tyrian man lean in, gold eyes intense and manic grin on his features. Then, quick as it had come, Salem's temper subsided: she took a slow breath, closing her eyes, and sitting back down.

Then she smiled.

"The Steinway piano is gone now," she said, and Ozpin felt something in his heart break as he realized what she was going to say next. "So is the hope chest. The Ansonia clock. Your great grandmother's wedding dress was beset by moths, and that eighteenth century cradle we put little Oscar in? It's firewood now."

Oz closed his eyes, held in his pain. All that history, the lineage of his family, the connections to his past… He gave Salem a calm look, refusing to show her that her shallow attempt to hurt him had worked.

But she knew anyway, and she smiled, soft and dangerous. "Some of it was sold," she said, "to pay all those bills you left me. But some of it… well, some of it didn't survive the divorce."

"Meaning with no one to strangle you sought to hurt me in some other way," Ozpin said slowly, in a low voice. "I hope your satisfaction lasted."

"Hardly at all," Salem said, knowing she had the upper hand now. "I knew how upset you'd be, and I was scared of what you'd do if you found out."

"That is a lie and both of us know it," Oz corrected. "You destroyed them because you were angry, and you felt no fear because I was no danger to you. I willingly submitted to your hands in the misguided thought that it would spare Oscar from such injury. Fear was something you never felt, Salem. Only anger. Only spite."

"And who could blame me?" Salem asked smoothly. "You were so abusive when we were together."

"You don't truly believe that."

"But I do. Because of Oscar."


Oscar got off the bus and took a moment to look around the yard. Hmm, the rain from the day had been good for the plants, but it looked like the wind had taken down a branch. So he'd probably have to deal with that during the weekend. Actually, he hadn't done any of the wood in the chipping pile yet, now that it had dried out over the winter, so he should probably do that first and then start the new chipping pile with that branch after he cut it down to something more manageable. Not that it was that huge yet.

Actually, he should probably take a look at it first. Oscar walked across the yard and looked at the branch. He could lug it on his own, but knowing Qrow, he'd insist on helping. Assuming his bad luck didn't activate, it would be easier if he had the help.

Nodding to himself, Oscar stood and headed to the front door. But he paused when he was halfway there.

Why was his Dad's cane in the yard? Oscar picked up the cane and clicked the knuckle guard, retracting it and he felt anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

Why didn't his dad have his cane?

Oscar pulled out his phone, wondering if there was a message from either his dad or Qrow about some emergency. There wasn't, and there hadn't been when he was checking his phone on the way home. He walked up the steps to the porch and as he crossed by the window, his eyes widened.

His dad was there. On the couch. With his mom.

Group chat! SOS! HEL-

"You must be Oscar."

Oscar hit send and looked up. A tall man stood there, long black hair pulled back into a braid and smiling in a way that sent chills down Oscar's spine.

"You're needed for a family meeting," the man said, ending with a giggle.

Every instinct in Oscar said run!

He turned, but a hand with purple fingernails grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Now, now, you should have a lot to say to your mother."

"Let me go!" Oscar pulled out his dad's cane with his free hand, his phone dropping to the porch as the man started pulling him to the door. Oscar clicked the knuckle guard, extending the cane, but the man grabbed it and pulled it out of Oscar's hands.

"Ooooh," the man laughed. "Interesting," he said, laughing some more. "Oh, how delightful. Useless, but delightful." And he threw the cane back into the yard.

"No!"

And the man started dragging him into the house. Oscar, naturally, resisted. He dragged his feet, pulled and yanked his arm to get it free, but he still hadn't hit his growth spurt yet and he was still so short.

"Let me go! Let me go! Help! Fire!"

But the man was deceptively strong and grabbed Oscar's other free arm and pulled, getting Oscar off balance as he tripped at the step into the house.

"My Goddess!" the man cackled. "Look who I spied lurking on the porch! Hahahaha!"

"Oscar!" his dad was on his feet, reaching out and stepping forward.

"Ozpin," his mother hissed, standing and grabbing his arm. "Sit down."

"Oscar!" His dad pulled away, staggering forward. "Oscar, are you alright?"

"Dad!"

But the man held out an arm and shoved his dad away, throwing off his balance and his leg gave out, leaving him to collapse on the floor. Oscar surged against the man's grip. "Dad!"

"Settle down, all of you!" his mother hissed. She looked coldly to his dad. "Ozpin, honestly, what did you expect for moving so suddenly? Come, sit over here so that we may continue our conversation." She looked to the man. "Tyrian, thank you for your help. You're always so helpful."

"Anything, for you," he said lovingly.

"Would you mind looking after Oscar? We don't want Ozpin influencing him."

"Of course, my goddess."

Oscar was dragged against his will to his dad's chair and pressed down to the floor in front of it. Behind him, Tyrian crouched in the chair, and kept both hands on Oscar's shoulders.

His dad was looking around, calculating, before carefully getting up to one knee and then hefting himself to his feet. "Salem," he said softly. "This is neither the time, nor the place-"

"Sit down."

His dad was glaring, but he let out a soft breath and came to the couch, sitting awkwardly as his bad leg was pinned as he sat almost sideways on the couch to keep Oscar in his sight.

"Now," Oscar's mother said serenely. "We were talking about Oscar."

Oscar squirmed and the fingers on his shoulders dug in.

He could only hope his SOS was received.


"Ah, this is so frustrating!" Ruby whined as she pulled back from the books. "Finals are still a few weeks away, Weiss! Do you have to crack the whip now?"

"Hmph. Did you, or did you not get better grades last year than you were expecting?"

"I need this," Blake said. "I couldn't get all my credits last year. I won't have that happen again. Between the pictures being dropped and Adam showing up and getting arrested, I've missed a lot and I won't let that affect me again."

Yang ran her hands through her hair. "We get that, but we need a break."

Ruby stood. "That's it! By clear majority, we are taking a break!"

"Hey!" Weiss squawked. "We made no such vote! You didn't even pass a motion!"

"Too bad," Ruby said, heading to the kitchen. "Executive privilege as team leader means I veto all objections!" And honestly, she did need the break. She'd had two quizzes and a test today and her brain was ready to collapse. So she pulled out ice cream. "Who wants ice cream?"

"A break would probably be a good idea," Blake said, standing to come over, following Yang.

Weiss stayed with their books before rolling her eyes and coming over. "You're all just lazy," she said without any real meaning.

Score one for being team leader! Ruby pulled out the vanilla and the chocolate and grabbed all the sprinkles and syrup for sundaes. For Blake, she pulled out some vegan cookies that Ozpin had brought over the other day.

All their phones buzzed.

SOS! HEL

"Oscar?" Ruby blinked. She looked at everyone else. "All of you, too?"

"Yeah," Blake said softly.

"The only time Oscar ever sent an SOS," Yang said heavily, "is when his dad was being attacked by that big guy."

oscar are you okay? Ruby sent back.

No response, not even the three dots of someone typing back.

They all stared at their phones. Weiss took a breath. "Let's give him a few minutes. We'll have our ice cream and then check. It could be that he's assessing a situation. Let him do that."

Ruby nodded, but the snack was no longer appealing. They dished out the ice cream and ate almost mechanically, and all of their phones were out, waiting for a buzz.

None came.

"He can't still be assessing, can he?" Ruby asked.

They all looked at each other. "Maybe he didn't mean to send it?" Yang said hopefully. "It was cut off, maybe he was deleting it and hit send by accident."

"But no response?" Ruby pointed out. "I'm going to call him."

No answer, only voicemail. "Oscar, when you get this message, please call back."

Weiss was looking at her watch. "He should be home by now. Maybe he's cleaning up and doesn't have his phone handy. We did have some storms today. Maybe a branch came down or something." She looked hesitantly around them. "Maybe we should get back to studying?"

But there was clear hesitance all around.

"Oh!" Ruby smiled. "College is done, right? Professor Ozpin should be home!"

They all smiled and Ruby immediately called.

But there was still no response.

"Do you think his phone is dead?" Blake asked. "You know he likes to let it die regularly to keep the battery healthy or whatever."

"I'll call the house phone," Ruby replied. "Can you guys text Uncle Qrow? See if he knows anything?"

Yang opened her texts.

"I'll contact Winter."

"I'll text my parents."

Ruby called the house phone and waited, counting out the rings.

"One ring."

"Two rings."

"Three rings…."

"Ten rings…."

The phone kept ringing and Ruby left it on speaker. "Blake, can you look up the phone company or something? See if there's service in the area where Uncle Qrow and Ozpin live?"

"I'll check the power company's website," Yang said, already opening a browser.

Twenty rings…

Dial tone.

Ruby called back.

Dial tone.

Ruby called back again.

Dial tone.

"No power outages."

"No damage to phone lines. Everything should be working."

"Winter is in a board meeting," Weiss said. "Her secretary won't let me through and I don't feel right insisting since we don't know for sure…"

"Mom's phone is going to voicemail, meaning she's with a client," Blake said. "Dad's at a fundraiser and doesn't even have his phone on."

"Uncle Qrow was talking about the big parent meeting he had after school today. He probably hasn't even checked his phone yet," Yang looked up from her calendar app.

Ruby was thinking hard. "How long a walk is it to get from here to their house? Oscar went straight home, right? He wasn't after school for anything?"

"Did he have club today? Hang on, let me text," Blake started texting other members of the club. "No club meeting today."

Weiss was shaking her head. "It took me over two hours to get from my home to here. It will be faster for us to contact someone who can drive to get there."

"I could drive," Yang said standing.

"Drive what?" Ruby asked. "Dad isn't home yet with the car and you've had no practice with a motorcycle and we can't fit all of us on the bike anyway. We don't even all have our bikes."

"We gotta do something!"

Ruby nodded solemnly. "We keep trying to reach an adult."

Ruby hoped that all this was over nothing. She was worried.


"Are there any other phones, Ozpin?" Salem asked, sitting down with a mess of phone chords and putting them on an end table.

"No," Oz replied, back on the couch, Oscar hostage to the giddy Tyrian and his bad leg hurting. "Though I can only imagine what this will look like on the police report."

"There won't be a police report," Salem said smoothly. "Why would there be, when a husband and wife are having a simple conversation?"

"Is that what you think this is?" Ozpin asked. "A simple conversation? With you breaking the restraining-"

"Stop bringing that up," Salem said. "That thing isn't worth the paper it's printed on. Restraining order? What have I ever done to warrant that? Who did you sleep with to create that cockamamy idea?"

"I needed nothing," Ozpin said carefully, unbuttoning his collar and showing his neck. "You very obviously left your mark."

Tyrian giggled, shaking in Oz's chair and making Oscar jiggle left to right. "Such beautiful work," he said, licking his lips, staring at the scars. "Such precision. It is a masterpiece worthy of our goddess."

Ozpin gave Salem a flat look, but Salem only smiled, giving a confident smirk and leaning back on the couch, relaxed in her power. "Tyrian is very dear to me," she said calmly. "He, after all, appreciates what I do for him."

"If you expect that statement to hurt you are sorely mistaken," Ozpin said.

There, the dark frown again. "You never appreciated what I sacrificed when I married you," she said. "You dismissed my misery when we moved to California, you didn't care one iota about how cold and merciless everyone was on the coast, how judgmental they were. Marrying you meant the death of my happiness, until I had Oscar."

"Correction," Ozpin said, unwilling to let Salem speak her mind without interruption. He had heard this argument over and over again, and now he knew how to counter it. "Perhaps, if none would consider you a friend in California, it was because of some intrinsic quality about you. I had no such problems at Berkley, neither did Oscar, he had many friends in school. I know for a fact you were invited to company parties-"

"Don't bring those up," Salem hissed, pointing an accusatory finger. "You knew what those parties were like."

"I did," Ozpin said, unwilling to bend. "Did you?"

"They were full of power hungry dictators trying to squeeze their employees for all they were worth!"

"They were a small start-up tech company," Ozpin corrected, "that played conservative in the market and focused on the quality of their product rather than how fast they could earn money. Your manager had worked in Silicon Valley and stated repeatedly that he was happy to be in a company that cared."

"You weren't there!"

"I was. At those parties, when everyone had their fill of champagne that the president bought out of his own personal finances so he wouldn't overdraw from business funds."

Salem growled, turning away. "Why do I ever bother to speak to you?" she demanded. "You never listen to me, you never take my side, you hate me with every fiber of your being."

"Well can you blame him?" Oscar demanded, and Oz's eyes snapped to his son, silently demanding him not to say any more. The message was not received. "Would you want to take the side of someone who'd strangle you when things weren't going their way? You think I didn't see how out of breath he was after a fight, that I didn't figure out what those scars meant before you did it to me?"

"Oscar-"

Salem raised a hand. "No," she said, dismissing Ozpin, staring at her boy, "Do continue."

Oscar looked back and forth between his two parents, and Ozpin prayed, prayed, that he chose his words carefully. Hazel eyes settled on his mother, a frown on his freckled face. "I remember," he said slowly, annunciating his words so they were perfectly clear. "I remember when Dad was in the hospital after the accident, and you came home after a Bad Day. I could always tell when you had a Bad Day, because Dad would get really quiet, and if it was really bad he would pull you away to a different room. I had to pretend I didn't hear anything, and then after I would help him catch his breath. Dad was in the hospital and you said we didn't have the money to fly over to see him, and you had a Bad Day. You sat me down and told me how terrible your work was, but I said something wrong, and you got mad. You said I took after Dad, and I asked if that made you happy, and then you gave me these," he pointed to his neck. "Dad cried when he saw them."

Ozpin closed his eyes to the memory, sitting in the wheelchair, trying to figure out why his son had become so quiet and sullen, asking what was wrong, if seeing his father in a wheelchair bothered him, and watching his son look around the entire room, making sure his mother wasn't there, and pulled down his turtleneck. Then,

"Is that what you think happened?" Salem asked, incredulous. "What other sorts of ideas has he been putting in your head?"

"Salem," Ozpin said quickly. "He was eight, don't-"

"Is that what you've been telling him?" she demanded, turning around, red eyes dark again. "You turn me into some wicked mother for sympathy points from our own son?"

"He never said anything," Oscar said, wincing as Tyrian dug his purple nails into his shoulder. "He didn't have to."

"I can't believe this. I can't believe this!" Salem said, low and dark and dangerous. Her head snapped to Ozpin. "Look at what you've done to him! You've made him as heartless as you - refusing to listen to what really happened, fixing things in his mind and forbidding him to accept any other possible version of events! And you call me abusive!" She threw her hands up, and Ozpin leaned back again, body reacting to those hands moving at all.

Salem whipped her head back to Oscar. "Let me tell you what really happened," she said, holding up a finger. "I was stressed out of my mind - your father in the hospital, bills coming in, all sorts of phone calls with Berkley demanding to know what happened - the police came to our house - I thought for sure they were there to arrest me as some kind of accessory because of the death of poor Gretchen - and all you wanted to do when you came home was see your father. I told you - over and over and over and over - that we couldn't! We didn't have the money! But you kept asking and asking and asking! What did you expect was going to happen?"

"So it's my fault you tried to kill me?" Oscar demanded. "Do you realize how messed up that is?"

"Don't twist this around," Salem hissed, standing. Ozpin saw her fingers were spread apart, and that was the worst sign yet don't do it to Oscar get her attention stop it from-

"He was eight," Ozpin said loudly, drawing Salem's attention. "How could an eight year old be responsible for something like that? I'm more than willing to admit that I was complicit in what you did to me - I was a grown adult and made my own decisions, but do not give Oscar that level of responsibility when he was still a child."

Her red eyes were dark now, almost black, matching her overdone mascara and the dark circles under her eyes. She looked down at Ozpin, Ozpin stared evenly back up at her, not giving ground like he would have, not demurring, not minimizing what he said. He willed all her attention to be on him, away from Oscar, and damn the consequences.

But again, she regained her calm demeanor, that soft smile blooming on her face that used to be so lovely but was now so dangerous. She straightened out her black skirt, sitting back down on the couch and still smiling, completely in control.

"Yes," she said in a soft, measured tone. "Oscar is still a child. And look what you did to him."

Oh, no.

Ozpin said absolutely nothing, unwilling to give away that he knew where she was going to go, and she ran a bony hand through her white hair. "We keep getting side tracked," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, Tyrian's eyes drinking in the gesture. "That's my fault, I suppose. I know you don't think I take blame for anything, but there, see? I can admit when I made a mistake. And I really was a fool, wasn't I? I had no idea what you really were when I married you."

"Don't," Ozpin said. "Don't throw the accusations you made during the divorce out now, not when the lawyers proved otherwise. Not when it amounts to nothing more than spite. Even you would not stoop so low."

"Low?" Salem asked, her smile growing, changing her face. "Isn't that interesting, coming from you? To think, I spent all those years wondering what was wrong with me, that you didn't want me, need me, the way I needed you. All that time I thought there was something wrong with me, all that time I thought I wasn't performing as you wished." She was in the seat of her power now, pleased with herself, and from the corner of his eye Ozpin could see Tyrian smiling broadly, eyes dilating to see Salem look so confident. Oscar had a frown on his face, the one thing Ozpin never told him was about to be dragged out in the worse possibly way-

"It's not true," he said. "We both know it. You never believed me. You kept looking for something to be wrong with me, you had me convinced that there was something wrong with me."

"And there was," Salem said, voice dropping in pitch. "Unless you want to argue being a pedophile is somehow justifiable."

Oscar: "What are you even talking about?" he demanded, horrified that he had even heard such a sentence.

Salem threw her soft gaze to Oscar. "It's okay," she said gently. "I know what happened. You don't have to lie to me anymore."

Ozpin saw Oscar put it together, and his son tried to get up, Tyrian holding him down. "How sick are you?" he shouted, trying to at least get to his knees. "How deranged do you have to be? Wasn't strangling him enough? Wasn't strangling me enough? Wasn't sending Gretchen's brother here enough?"

"Oscar, stop," Ozpin said quickly. "She's looking for a reaction, and she'll make it fit her own narrative. Don't give her any ammunition."

"But Dad, she's nuts! You told me what you are! You found Qrow, you're so happy now - why does she have to ruin it?"

"Told him?" Salem said, artfully putting a hand to her chest and widening her eyes just enough that they almost looked normal. She turned to Ozpin. "You admitted what an animal you are? What a sin to God you are?"

"I told Oscar the truth," Ozpin said through nearly clenched teeth, fighting to fix the damage and gain ground. "I am a biromantic grey demisexual."

Tyrian burst out laughing, black braid swinging over his shoulder, shoulders shaking. Oscar was forced to sit back, trying to wrestle out of his grip but Salem's muscle was too good at his job. "What the hell kind of label is that?" the man demanded after finally finishing his guffaws. "Don't tell me you're one of those snowflakes that identifies as an attack helicopter, too! That's the richest thing I've ever heard! My beloved queen, where did you find this guy?"

"That's enough, Tyrian," Salem said smoothly, crossing one knee over another, confident smile turning dark. "We both know you'll say anything to get yourself out of trouble."

Ozpin took a slow, deep breath through his nose. "I suppose listing all the instances where I said nothing in my defense are irrelevant?" he asked.

"You were never silent," Salem said, waving her hand in dismissal. "You always had an excuse - an excuse to be at work instead of home, an excuse to do something outside of the house, an excuse not to join me in bed."

"Heaven forbid I not be in the mood," Ozpin offered.

"You're a man," Salem said. "What man isn't in the mood?"

"The very counterexample of that statement is sitting in front of you," Ozpin said. "I'm more than willing to admit that my not being in the mood hurt you, but that does not excuse the vengeance you enacted during the divorce, nor does it excuse dragging it up in front of our son just so you can enact some scenario you concocted in your head to play out as you fantasized. I did not want to have sex with you. No other explanation is necessary, though I have offered one. I will not give you the answer you want."

"There you go again, lecturing me," Salem said, voice dark. "Why do you think I ended up in the hospital sick during the divorce? I realized what you were doing every time you took Oscar to an imagined 'play date,' every time you offered to pick him up from school. I finally learned what a monster you are, and now I've come to save my son."

"And here you previously stated you were here to reiterate the damage I caused you and how I would make reparations," Oz said, heart bleeding deep inside but unwilling to show that pain to her. "Tell me, which objective am I to believe is the true one?"

"Don't twist this around," Salem said strictly, lifting a finger.

"I'm not trying to twist anything around," Ozpin said calmly. "You are the one who violated the restraining-"

"I told you to stop bringing that up!" Salem said, standing up again. "You always have to have the last word, don't you? You always have to be in the right, play the victim when I'm the one who is suffering! You think playing on someone's sympathies is going to get you brownie points? You molested my son! You ruined me! Did you think you weren't going to pay for it?"

"Of course," Ozpin said over Salem's thunderous tone. "Taking everything in the divorce wasn't enough to hurt me. Destroying my entire personal history wasn't enough to hurt me. Accusing me of molesting my son wasn't enough to hurt me. Telling Hazel about where you thought I lived wasn't enough to hurt me. Now you come here, spending your precious money to try and steal Oscar back as if I won't use the restraining order, the divorce papers, the assault in my own home as immediate evidence of your kidnapping him!"

And then she went for his neck.


Author's Notes: And thus we pray we live up to the hype.

This chapter. This. Chapter. I'm not even sure what to say about this chapter, we kind of left it all hanging out there in this chapter and there isn't much to add. This chapter is an amalgamation/wish fullfillment for us: were we confront the Salem of our lives and say all the things we ever wanted to say but never did. I mean, it doesn't matter because Salem isn't going to change her mind on literally anything but the chapter is one part intense tension and one part fist pumping go!-Oz!-go! Because for the first time ever Ozpin is strong enough to not put up with Salem's BS, and won't let her have her way.

Also, the girls. They're trying.

Next chapter aka the Finale: Qrow sure is going to walk in to a lot when he gets home, huh? (evil grin)