Part Thirty-Two
Qrow got into his classroom and let out a sigh as he pulled out his bag from under his desk. That parent meeting had gone smoothly, but it still felt strange for him to be doing this, even after a year as a teacher at Signal. It was never a career he would have thought for himself. Oz had been right, it was challenging, and he enjoyed it. But there were still moments when he was amazed that he was actually there.
He grabbed his grading folders and stuffed them into his bag, along with his empty lunch, a to-do list starting to form in his head. Grading, making lunch for tomorrow - should he just grab something at the store? - PPT he still needed to prep for…
There was a buzz.
Oh yeah, the three phones he'd confiscated during the day. He needed to drop those off in the office.
Qrow unlocked his desk and pulled out the phones, as well as his own. God, he'd not had the chance to check his phone since lunch, because his afternoon was nothing but back to back classes and then the parent meeting had happened-Woah, that was a lot of messages.
UNCLE QROW! CHECK YOUR DAMN PHONE!
Ruby? What the hell?
He started scrolling up, seeing all sorts of demands for him to contact someone, but every time he scrolled up, a new text came in sending the screen back to the bottom.
Finally Qrow rolled his eyes and dialed, slinging his bag over an arm and grabbing his keys to lock up his classroom.
"Uncle Qrow!" Ruby shouted into his ear.
"Pipsqueak, why do I have a zillion messages from you?" he asked.
"BECAUSE! Look, we don't know if it's nothing or not but we're all getting worried!"
"Slow down, Ruby," Qrow said, locking his classroom. "From the beginning, what's wrong?"
"IT'S OSCAR! Or we think it is? He sent out an SOS text, but it was cut off! We've been trying to reach him ever since and we haven't gotten through in over twenty minutes!"
That… wasn't normal for the kid but not grounds to jump into a panic either.
"You sure it was an SOS?"
"YES! He sent it to you too!"
"I can't read my messages with all of you adding new ones the instant I start scrolling up." Qrow walked into the main office and handed the confiscated phones to the secretary, who gave him a sticky note.
"Names for the phones," she said.
Qrow nodded, grabbing a pen while Ruby kept explaining.
"Look, we know it might be over nothing, but we haven't been able to reach him. And we haven't been able to reach Professor Ozpin either."
"What?"
"That's why we're so worried! Professor Ozpin is home, right? Graduation was last week or something? But he hasn't answered his phone or the house phone. I let it ring twenty times and now it just goes straight to dial tone. I've been getting nothing but dial tones for the past ten minutes!"
Qrow rolled his eyes. "You know that Oz may have gone out, right?"
"Then he would be answering his cell! Uncle Qrow, why would Oscar send an SOS and then not be able to be reached and the same for Ozpin? This makes no sense and we're getting scared!"
"Ruby, what has gotten into your head?" Qrow asked, finishing the sticky notes and giving them and the phones to the secretary. She locked them in a drawer and Qrow finally started to make for his car.
"Uncle Qrow, please. Oscar sends an aborted SOS text and then we can't get a hold of him. He doesn't call back. We try to contact his dad but he doesn't answer either - the house phone jumped from ringing to dial tone, nobody's answering anything and the last time Oscar sent an SOS that big guy was attacking his dad! You had me call the police! What if we have to do that again?"
"Look," Qrow said, getting into his clunker and starting the engine, "I get where this all makes sense in your head but there's probably a perfectly normal explanation. Oz might have taken a fall and Oscar had to help him, or we ran out of food and they went grocery shopping." That was, admittedly, a reach, because since moving in Qrow had seen first hand Oz make sure his son had his phone-id-wallet before leaving the house for any reason. His insides were twisting a little - it wasn't that he wasn't worried - but he wasn't going to jump to the worst case scenario either. Clover had talked to him more than once about catastrophizing, and he took a deep breath and reminded himself that there was a perfectly normal explanation for all of this. "Look," he said, "I'm on my way home right now. I'll call you when I park and tell you how normal everything is, we'll get Oz on the phone to show you he's still alive and then Oscar can explain why he accidentally hit send or whatever."
"But Uncle Qrow…!"
"It'll be fine, Ruby, stop worrying about this and start worrying about finals."
The drive home was, give or take, twenty minutes; and Qrow could admit to himself if no one else that he might have made this particular drive in thirteen. When he pulled onto the street he saw Oz's car in the driveway, blocking him from going into the garage and forcing him to park on the street. The sidewalk was dry and as he got out he saw something dark poking out of the grass and onto the sidewalk. Ruby's number dialing, he walked over to it, wondering if it was.
"Uncle Qrow! Are they okay?"
"I haven't even made it into the house, Ruby," Qrow said, reaching down to pick up. "... the hell? What's Oz's cane doing in the middle of the yar-" There. On the front steps: the green casing of Oscar's phone. "Fuck," he cursed.
"What is it? Uncle Qrow! What happened?"
"Give me ten minutes," Qrow said, voice low and dangerous as he retracted the cane and put it in his pocket. "If I don't call back, call the cavalry." He pulled the phone away and hung up, moving to the garage, darting around it to the back yard. His biggest fear was the house being empty, Oz and Oscar spirited away somewhere, but that meant the bitch-ex learned where Oz was, and Qrow knew the number of steps his lover went through to make sure that didn't happen. As he moved around the garage and entered Oscar's back garden he pulled out his keys, hoping the back door didn't squeak too bad. Blood was pumping in his veins, he wanted to just kick the door down - he normally would just kick the door down - but if this turned out to be nothing he didn't want egg on his face.
... but it wasn't nothing, he was pretty sure of that.
Once he was at the back door he could hear voices: "I told you to stop bringing that up!" said a rich alto from inside. "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?"
Fucking bitch! Qrow could hear Oz's voice, saying something in calmer but not the usual Oz-calm tones, and Qrow managed to twist the knob.
"Dad! Dad! Let him go! Stop it!"
Son of a fucking bitch if one hair was harmed on Oz's head-!
Qrow shoved the back door open, took all the three steps through the kitchen and to the living room to see some kind of freaking albino on the couch, Oscar on the floor and struggling in the grip of some kind of thug - the ablino was looming over something that that was all Qrow really needed to understand.
"Get away from my family!" Qrow shouted, lurching forward and grabbing a bony shoulder, the woman turned around - red eyes - startled, and beneath her was Oz, curling to the side and coughing for breath.
The thug was there, gold eyes and giddy smile and throwing a punch that Qrow ducked under. He saw Oscar darting around the couch but didn't have time to see more, ducking a second swing and blocking a third, shoving his palm into the loser's face and jabbing it into the nose, making the thug try and dart back. The house was small, so was the layout, and the thug tripped over the coffee table, black braid swinging wildly as he broke the furniture. Qrow looked for the albino bitch but Oscar had her by an arm and was trying to drag her away from Oz. Qrow pulled out the cane and tossed it over before he perceived an incoming punch. He couldn't side step it quick enough and it careened into his side, making him double over before he could control the impulse.
"Fuck you," he growled, straightening and grabbing the follow up jab, taking the wrist and twisting it around so the Braid Bastard had his back to Qrow. He lifted up a foot and kicked, sending the bastard through the wreckage of the coffee table and over the chair. That gave him enough space to help Oscar with the bitch-ex, grabbing a shoulder and spinning her around.
"Who are you?" she demanded, red eyes wide and bulging.
Qrow aimed to hurt: "I'm his husband you psycho bitch," seeing her already wide eyes double in size as he swung the tiny woman over a shoulder. She was screaming blue murder to be off her feet and Braid Bastard gave a cry of rage that sounded just as psycho as the Bitch-Ex, hurtling over the chair to stop Qrow from throwing her out.
They all collided together into a heap on the couch, and the Bitch-Ex managed to scramble out of Qrow's grip, Qrow trying to figure out if any of the bodies around him were Oz. Braid Bastard grabbed at Qrow and started to swing him somewhere, but Qrow was having none of that, getting his feet planted before planting a headbutt that landed with a satisfying crunch. Braid Bastard staggered back, covering his face, and Qrow kicked him into the fireplace.
A little out of breath now from the scuffle, he spun around to see who else he needed to take care of. He didn't see Oz anywhere, or Oscar either. Bitch-Ex was on her feet and staring.
"You!" she shouted. "You're the one who turned him gay!"
"Bitch, please," Qrow said, rubbing his side where the Braid Bastard had sucker punched him. "You gonna get outta here? Or am I gonna have to beat up your fuck-boy over there a little more?"
And, for no reason Qrow could comprehend, she screamed.
Like, high-pitched, long, shrill, unending scream, bouncing around in Qrow's ears and then his head, enough that he startled at the assault on his ears. That was the opening Braid Bastard needed, diving into Qrow and both of them tumbling into the broken remains of the coffee table, splinters digging into Qrow's exposed skin and through his shirt. "Fuck what is your damage?" he grunted.
"You touched my queen!"
Oh, for-! Qrow started to retaliate but it looked like Braid Bastard finally did something smart, grabbing Qrow's hands and holding them down. Qrow squirmed, knowing he could pull out and just needing a second to do so. Braid Bastard had a good grip, though, and his gold eyes watched as someone - the Bitch-Ex - come in over his head. Her white hands reached, fingers spread apart, and they grabbed at Qrow's neck. For a tiny bitch she was strong, and Qrow's entire body reacted to suddenly not having air what the fuck he couldn't breath that was his hyoid bone whattheactualf-
Through his automatic panic he saw two things: first, Oscar in a fit of insanity jumping onto Braid Bastard's back to yank him off of Qrow. Second: a pale hand with Oz's retracted cane coming within an inch of the Bitch-Ex's head, clicking the knuckle guard and letting the full extension of the cane careen into the bitch's temple. Instantaneously free, Qrow scrambled - Oscar's weight tipping Braid Bastard to the side and Qrow rolling the bastard to his stomach, grabbing and his wrists and twisting them into a lock Tai had taught him back in the day. "Move," he growled, "and your arms break."
"My queen! My queen!"
Oscar, no longer having to deal with Braid Bastard, was crawling over to the Bitch-Ex and grabbing her shoulders, letting his weight hold her down. No training…
"Oscar, like this - grab the wrists."
"Got it," the kid said, mimicking Qrow's hold, the bitch still dazed from the blow to her head.
All three of them were panting, and it took a second for Qrow to realize the home invaders were handled. His eyes spun inevitably to Oz, his lover kneeling on one leg, his bad one out in the wreckage of the coffee table and bent just enough that Qrow knew it probably hurt like hell. His brown eyes were wide and he was struggling to take controlled, silent breaths.
"Oz," Qrow said. "Oz. You okay?"
He wasn't looking at anything, fighting to control his breath, and Qrow couldn't move into his line of sight or else Braid Bastard would buck him off, like he was already trying furiously to do. Cursing, he looked to Oscar. "We need to call the cops," he said. "But neither of us can get up. How do we get him back?"
Oscar shook his head. "I always waited it out, counted his breaths out loud until he came back. I never learned how to pull him out."
Qrow growled, low in his throat as the anger washed over him again. "You're lucky it's you holding her down," he said darkly. He turned back to his partner. "Oz, you with me? Oz." He waited a few beats, and then repeated himself. "Oz."
Slowly, the chocolate gaze moved slightly to him, breathing a little more steady. A hot tear rolled down his cheek and he blinked. Oz tried to say something - his lips moved but his voice was a crackled whistle of air and Qrow was going to kill that bitch twice over for what she did.
"Hello?" said a voice at the front door. "Hello? Is anyone home?"
"Ghira!" Qrow called out, "Come in through the back! And call the cops!"
Seconds later Ghira came in through the kitchen, taking in the destroyed coffee table, the overturned chair, and Qrow and Oscar sitting on the Bitch-Ex and Braid Bastard. "Oh my god," Kali's husband said, pulling out his phone. "Blake was right to worry."
"Can you sit on the bitch?" Qrow asked, feeling a weird strain on his voice box. "Oscar has to help Oz breath, the bitch was choking him."
"My queen…!"
"Shut up," Qrow growled, leaning in to Braid Bastard.
"I've got it," Ghira said, climbing over the wreckage. "Tai's on his way as well. The girls called everyone."
"Please tell me the cops were part of that call chain."
"If they didn't, I will," Ghira said, crouching down and taking over holding down the dazed Bitch-Ex. Oscar crawled immediately to his father and leaned in close, placing his hands on Oz's uneven lap. Oz tried to say something again, but it was just broken noise, but he lifted his hands up and held Oscar's face before pulling him into the tightest of hugs. Qrow wanted nothing more than to join that hug but he had to keep his family safe first.
"I didn't know his ex was an albino," Ghira muttered, muscles rippling slightly as he held the Bitch-Ex down.
"Looks don't matter all that much to Oz," Qrow said. "Important part was what she did."
Ghira looked at the tightly held father and son, and he nodded. "Who's the braid?"
"No idea. Fuck-boy I'd guess the way he talks."
"Do not defile my goddess."
"Hey, I said shut up." Qrow turned back to Ghira. "The girls?"
"Kali's with them. She called me as soon as she checked her messages, got me at the fundraiser. They asked if they should call Winter, I think they were going to send up smoke signals, they were so worried."
Qrow huffed a laugh. "Thank Oscar," he said, jutting his head. "He was able to get an SOS out."
Ghira winced just to hear it, and the sound of sirens finally started to echo in the house.
Qrow watched Oz sitting on his front steps, staring out at the sunset, ambulance shock blanket hanging limply over his shoulders. His voice was still an incomprehensible mess, but Oscar had managed to get the word "chocolate" and he was sipping a mug of it in the warm May air. Tai had arrived five minutes after the cops and had used more swears in twenty minutes than Qrow had heard when he learned what Raven had done. His phone had no less than sixty messages from the girls and he had just finished a twenty minute phone call with Kali to pass on what had happened before Ruby got on and put the phone on speaker so he could talk to everyone. That had lasted another half hour and drained a good thirty percent of his battery before he finally said, "Look, let me look after everybody, okay? I'll talk more later."
"Yes!" Yang had said automatically. "Take care of the family! Give Oscar a few extra hugs from us!"
Oscar, listening to the conversation with half an ear, nodded numbly, but he was content to sit with his dad on the front steps and acting as translator for everyone when Oz tried to say something. It wasn't like he was saying much, though. Like always, he confessed his pain with silence, staring off into space randomly as his professor brain tried to process the day as rapidly as possible so he could be there for everyone else. Qrow shook his head and answered most of the questions as he could. Robyn Hill had been called at some point, coming over and staring at everything in horror before getting right to work, calling her firm and spitting fire at whoever was at the other line. Qrow liked her.
But now almost everyone was gone: Ghira going to help with the girls as Tai put in an effort of cleaning up the worst of the living room, bringing the biggest pieces of the broken coffee table out to the garage and putting Oz's chair upright again. There were mud stains everywhere from Braid Bastard's boots, and somehow a message had been sent to Winter and she had gotten word back that she was sending a cleaning service in the next few days.
Oscar checked out perfectly aside from a few bruises from the thug's grip. Qrow had a lot more scuffle damage, but honestly he'd been through worse in college, and before rehab. His side hurt the worst because of the sucker punch, but he was fine. Oz was the biggest deal for the ambulance. A brace was put on his knee until he could have a check up with his physician, Qrow had damn near lost his mind when someone said there was blood on his neck - but it turned out to be scratches from the Bitch-Ex's long nails. Pictures of his neck were taken as evidence by the cops, and he struggled to explain what had happened.
Now he was sitting on the front porch, listless and out of energy, lost in his head. Oscar sat next to him, curling naturally into his side.
Qrow shook his head, sitting on Oz's other side, grunting slightly as his side throbbed. He looped an arm over his partner's shoulder, watched the sun slowly sink behind the houses on the other side of the street.
Tai came out from the garage. "Got all the scraps that I could," he said softly, clapping his hands together. "Need anything?"
"A beer would be nice," Qrow joked, but his heart wasn't in it. Tai understood, nodding as he put a hand on his hip.
"Do you want me to stick around?" he asked, eyes on Oz.
"Nah. I got it from here."
Tai nodded. "Okay. You know the girls are gonna call tomorrow, right? It'll be everything I can do to get them to school tomorrow."
"I'll send a damn selfie in the morning," Qrow said. "Once I know he's up for it."
Oz tried to say something, and Oscar translated: "He says he can take it now."
Tai smirked and grabbed his phone. Qrow heard the snap of a picture just as the sun finally fell behind the house across the street. Tai leaned in, giving Qrow one last hug. "Take care of them," he said.
"I will," Qrow said softly, squeezing his partner. Tai nodded and waved, moving down the street to his car. He watched his brother drive off - better family than Raven ever was - and now he had a new family as part of the mix. He waited a while, the warm air cooling but not yet uncomfortable, watching the sky burn from gold to purple to edges of night blue. His lover moved occasionally, shifting his bad leg or sipping his chocolate, and on the other side Qrow could sense Oscar nuzzle his dad on occasion.
Finally a hand slinked onto his lap, and Qrow's free hand automatically found it. Oz tilted to the side, leaning into him. His voice made some kind of noise, and Qrow looked to see a frustrated frown. Oscar looked up but Oz shook his head, straightening slightly and turning to Qrow. He leaned in and kissed his lover lightly, and Qrow instinctively knew that Oz had tried to give one of his pleased hums, to let Qrow know he was back. He smiled into the kiss. "Good to have you back, Oz," he said.
Oz spoke, and after so many hours he had enough of his voice back that Qrow could just make out, "I know."
"Come on," Qrow said softly. "Let's get you to bed. You, too, Oscar. We're having a threesome."
"... a what?" Oscar asked.
"It'll be a tight fit," Qrow said, getting up from the front steps, "but I for one want to wake up at night and know both of you are fine." He held out his hand and Oz gratefully took it, swinging up to his feet and leaning on his cane.
"... I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.
Qrow looked at Oscar, confused, but the kid shook his head. "For what?" he asked.
Oz shook his head. "For bringing this down on us."
Qrow sighed and moved up the steps. "Last I checked," he said, making his voice as calm as he could. "You aren't responsible for that psycho bitch's actions. Unless you want me responsible for that Braid Bastard getting his paws on Oscar."
"No," Oz said, moving up the steps, voice cracking everywhere. "That's not-"
"It is," Qrow said, pulling his shirt off. "You want a shower before we turn in?"
"Yes," Oscar said. "I'll set us up. Dad, do you want to go first or last?"
"Last," Qrow said. "We're showering together."
Oscar made a face, and Qrow leveled a flat look in return. "If you think anyone in this house is in the mood, kid, you were hit in the head. I just want to help."
Oscar nodded and disappeared into the master bedroom. Oz shuffled around the ruined living room, leaning pretty heavily on his cane, and into the kitchen. Qrow joined him, sitting at the kitchen table and holding his leg out. Qrow sat and took his lover's hand, lifting it up to kiss him. "Gotta admit, Oz," he said, holding that hand to his chest. "When I saw the bitch over you on the couch, I thought the worst."
Oz closed his eyes to the memory, quiet but not silent. "I didn't know what to do," he said, voice barely audible, "When I saw her hands on you."
In the heat of the fight Qrow hadn't realized, and he leaned in to kiss his lover again. "We're okay," he said. "And hell if you didn't come up with the best damn idea." Qrow snorted. "Who've thought a cane would be a weapon?"
Oz tried to smile, but he didn't really have the energy. Qrow kissed the hand again and got up, opening the fridge for something to nibble on. Dinner was basically fucked, and he knew he'd be starving in the morning. He found some leftover orange slices and pulled them out, putting them in front of Oz, who shook his head. "I can barely swallow," he said, voice cracking.
Qrow pulled at Oz's collar, staring at the new scratches, the new bruises. "Still want to kill the bitch," he said softly. "Want to kiss those away, too."
Oz tried to hum again, and they sat quietly while they listened to the shower running in their room. Oscar came out in ten minutes in sleep pants and a tank, and Qrow got up to help his lover.
After the shower Qrow and Oscar silently agreed to put Oz in the center of the bed, Qrow taking his side and Oscar sliding in on the other side. Lights off, sounds of the house, even breathing, and Oscar was asleep in seconds, curled around his dad. Qrow could see Oz still running his hand through his son's hair, happy to still be able to do so. In bed, Qrow could feel how tense Oz still was, and he sat up to dig the heels of his palms into his lover's shoulders, down his back, helping the muscles where he could before his arms - already suffering a major workout from the fight - refused to do more. He curled around Oz, slinking an arm under his side.
"Tai asked me something earlier," he said softly into his partner's ear. "But I don't know if you're the type. He still has the number of his therapist."
Oz turned to be slightly more on his back, facing Qrow and studying him in the darkness.
"I never did it," Qrow admitted, "But I had Clover. And rehab. And Tai. And I saw how much better Tai was after it."
"... I'm open to it," Oz said, his voice barely a whisper.
"Then we'll talk in the morning."
Qrow felt Oz startle awake twice during the night, the sudden stiffening of his muscles alerting him and pulling him out of his sleep. Once he curled into Oscar, and the second time he curled into Qrow, saying nothing but nuzzling into his shoulder. When the alarm for school went off at five a.m. Qrow cursed and reached over to smash it. "Like hell we're going to school," he grumbled, grabbing his phone. He couldn't remember if he'd called Signal, and he got up to dial the sub line and then the high school to report Oscar's absence. When he stepped into the living room he saw all the damage, the lines of the place unfamiliar with the stains and missing furniture. Qrow growled at the space but put in his calls dutifully.
Oscar was sitting up when he went back in, scratching at his eyes and Qrow shook his head. "Sleep," he said softly. "I just gave us all the day off."
"... 'kay, Dad," he mumbled, curling back into Oz.
Something burst into Qrow's heart and he stared at the kid, already asleep again. Did he just realize…? Soft heat bubbled up Qrow's chest, and he reached over and fluffed the kid's hair. Soft, just like his dad's. Damn if he didn't love that boy as much as Oz.
He slid into bed again and Oz stirred, giving soft hum that almost sounded normal, but Qrow curled around his lover's back, and they both fell back asleep.
Flashes of memory: Sitting on the couch with Salem across from him. The man, Tyrian, holding down his son. Long nails reaching for his neck.
That jolted him awake. But other memories flittered into his mind as well: Oscar pulling Salem off and trying to drag him to the stairs. Qrow standing in front of Salem. Salem strangling Qrow.
That made him snap his eyes open, sucking in air through his nose, but weight was on his chest, the scratchy fuzz of a five o'clock shadow, and a warm squeeze. He sighed in relief, and he reached over for his glasses. Oscar was missing from bed, but he heard puttering upstairs, the soft creak of floorboards, and a bone-deep relief made him sink into the mattress. Emotion welled up in him, and he closed his eyes, not wanting to wake up Qrow.
A hot tear leaked out the corner of his eye, and it was kissed away.
"It's okay to make noise, you know," Qrow whispered.
Ozpin turned to his lover and held him, his mind overloaded with what-ifs and could-have-beens flooding out of him in shuddering breaths and shaking shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he'd mourned, truly mourned, everything that had happened to him since the year of hell that turned his hair white. The occasional hot tear, the dark night, all those long, lonely drives to and from work, but he'd finally hit his limit, and it gushed out of him in one ugly breath after another - and in equal parts, he was allowed to breath, he was allowed to grieve, he was allowed to let it out. He was safe. Oscar was safe. Qrow was safe. The relief was overwhelming, and any rest his vocal chords had overnight were worn down by the end.
Qrow said very little, but his sheer presence was enough, and when it was all said and done, when it was all out of him, all Oz could feel was exhausted relief.
He sat up slowly, running his hands over his burning eyes and through his tousled hair. His bad leg was absolutely rigid and he mechanically started working through the muscles, somehow both emotionally numb but lighter than he'd felt in years. Qrow was already tugging at the blankets, working his hands with increasingly practiced ease and Ozpin started wiggling his ankle to test how limber he'd become.
After that was morning medication: four pills and six vitamins. Qrow got them for him with a glass of water.
"I don't deserve you," Ozpin said, his voice still a crackled mess as he gulped it all down.
"Reverse is also true, Oz," Qrow said, not unkindly. "So I figure we're even."
Ozpin hummed, lightheaded with his catharsis, but he reached for his cane to get up and face the day.
Oscar had made breakfast, little more than cereal and bananas. Ozpin had wrinkled his nose at being reminded of how much of his home - his safe space - had been wounded from yesterday, but he was more awake now, more able to process, more able to function.
"I need to call my doctor," he said, "and schedule an appointment for my knee."
"Already made it," Oscar said. "It's Friday at four-thirty. That way Qrow and I can both be home to take you."
Ozpin blinked. "How…?"
"I, uh, may have called and pretended to be you," Oscar said, looking down at his hands. Qrow snorted into his coffee and laughed.
"Any other things we should know about?"
"Uh, there's a message on your phone from Ms. Hill, and a zillion messages from Ruby and the others - most of them can probably be deleted. They kept asking for a picture of you two to make sure you were alive. I… might have snapped a picture while you two were still sleeping. And it might be the new background on my phone for a few weeks for when I start to stress."
Ozpin blinked again, looking at the clock and wondering how exactly he'd missed so much already. "I feel adrift," he said, frowning. "Like I woke up this morning and am in someone else's life. I don't…" he looked at Oscar and Qrow, unusually unable to find the right words. "I feel…" He shook his head. "The living room is a mess, you're both missing school with the end of the year looming, the sun is up and shining and I don't truly understand how yesterday… I am about to yet again be indebted to Ms. Hill, accrue new medical bills but… I am lighter than I have felt since… since…" He spread his hands, unable to articulate himself and frustrated that he couldn't.
Qrow leaned back in his chair, shrugging his shoulders. "That's what happens when you have a good cry, Oz. God knows I learned that more times than I had a right to."
Ozpin smiled, his heart soft, and he reached over and took his lover's hand before turning to Oscar. "Qrow asked a question last night," he said, voice cracking again. "A lot has happened - not just yesterday but for many years, and things we thought dealt with have been dragged up and cut open anew. I have certainly in the last two years pushed you through enough guidance programs at school, and you have grown considerably in that intervening time. I think it's time that I did the same."
"Dad," Oscar said, shifting in his chair. "It'll be fine. Do you want me to come, too?"
"That's what I wanted to ask you."
Oscar frowned, thinking. "For the first few visits, I think," he said. "To see if I can handle that," he gestured vaguely to the living room, "okay."
Ozpin nodded. "Then that's what we'll do once school ends."
The morning was spent with carpet cleaner and vacuums, going over every square inch of the living room to remove the muddy boot prints of the man Tyrian. Qrow and Oscar handled the carpet and the fireplace while Ozpin dragged in a kitchen chair to clean his chair. The mud came out relatively painlessly, but there were two rips in the upholstery, and the simple knowledge that the chair had been abused by someone so violent. Oz wasn't sure if he could sit in the chair anymore, but he also had a coffee table to replace and the doctor's appointment and the lawyer… he didn't know if he could afford new furniture just for his peace of mind.
The doorbell rang, and Ozpin got up. He froze at the door, remembering who was behind it yesterday. He pursed his lips and put the feeling away. Beyond was Winter and two women with buckets.
"Professor Ozma," she said, putting her phone away. "As promised, I brought a cleaning service."
Ozpin blinked. What…?
"Hey!" Qrow said, coming up behind him and touching his shoulder. "Forgot you'd called about this. We'd already started cleaning."
Ozpin turned to his lover, wanting to ask a question, but Qrow saw his face and already knew. "Called last night after all the fireworks," he said easily, stepping back to let the cleaning service in. "You were still being checked out by the ambulance, I think. It all started to blur together after a while."
"... I see," Ozpin said, his voice still so hoarse. He saw Winter's face wince to hear it, and his former student pulled him into a hug.
"I'm so sorry," she said, squeezing. "You helped me so much. First in college, then with the lawyer, talking to Weiss…" She pulled back and gave a watery smile. "You didn't deserve what happened. If you need anything, anything at all, call me."
"Well," Oscar said, stepping out onto the front port to join them, "is there something you can do about the broken furniture?"
Winter blinked, eyes darting beyond them to inside the house before she gave a stout nod. "Of course. That's hardly a drop in the bucket. I have a furniture builder from when I bought my home here for Weiss and Whitley."
"Uhm," Oscar said, and Ozpin couldn't believe this entire conversation was even happening. "This might sound a little silly, but in California we had some really old pieces. They were part of my dad's family for - well, forever. Yesterday Mom said…" He looked down. "She said she either sold them or destroyed them."
Winter stared, blue eyes wide. "What kind of pieces?" she asked.
"Well," Oscar said. "We had a two hundred year old hope chest and-"
"No," Oz said quickly. "I can hardly expect… it would be too much work to hunt them down, let alone pay whatever they are worth-"
"Professor Ozma," Winter said, her rich alto both soft and low. "Please don't say no to this."
"But-"
"Oz," Qrow said. "Let her do a good thing."
Ozpin looked between the three of them, and the dastardly grin of Qrow, and he bowed to fate. "I couldn't thank you enough for this…" he started to say, his voice wheezy.
Winter hugged him again, and then she went immediately to her phone. "Klein," she said, moving into the house. "I have a new project. Oscar, tell me about those antiques."
A little overwhelmed that that had just happened, he looked back to Qrow as his son trailed after Winter. "I must confess I don't understand," he said.
And Qrow shook his head. "It's pretty simple, Oz," he said. "You're good people. And if the world can give screwed up people like me someone as good as you, then once in a while you get a return on all those favors you do for everyone."
Ozpin was certain he'd cry again, even after the endless outpouring of this morning, and he leaned on his cane before a stiff breeze decided to blow him over.
In the end, he had to help Oscar describe the pieces and explain their stories. He tried to point out that they were not antiques, per se, but rather heirlooms - they were well worn and well loved, making them of little value and probably hard to find. Winter scoffed at the very idea and simply didn't take no for an answer. Her man on the phone, Klein, was prone to agree, and Ozpin wondered if he actually might get some of his things back.
By the time lunch came the cleaners were gone, and save the missing coffee table and new rips in Ozpin's chair, it looked like nothing violent had happened the previous day. Oscar was atwitter about the idea of getting some of their old things back, talking about his memories of some of them and his fascination with them when he was a kid. ("You're still a kid now, you know," Qrow said in a flat tone that belied the smile on his face.) Ozpin worried that they would even have room, and he confessed his summer project to Qrow.
"Wait," his lover said. "You were going to rearrange your office so I could have a space there?"
"Yes," Ozpin said, voice almost normal. "Having you work on the couch with all your grading was hardly-"
Qrow leaned in and kissed him, surprising him. "That's why Winter's going to bend over backwards to get your heirlooms back," he said, sitting back. "Because you do things like that without any thought, and it's finally coming back to you."
"Hello!" came the front door with a polite knock.
A second visitor? Ozpin looked at Qrow, but he shrugged his shoulders and got up. "Hang on a second, Kali!" his lover said. Ozpin got up with Oscar, making it back to the living room as Qrow opened the door. Indeed, Kali was there, still wearing cat ears in solidarity with her daughter - even though young Blake wasn't there. Ghira followed shortly thereafter, just a hair taller than Ozpin, a great smile on his face.
"Good to see you back," he said in a grand voice, slapping a hand on Ozpin's shoulder. "You were a little too focused on your boy last night, not that I can blame you. I see you've cleaned the place up well. All you need is a new coffee table."
"Thank you," Oz said, uncertain why the Belladonnas were here. "Is there something we can do for you?"
"Oh, no," Kali said with a bright smile. "It's what we can do for you." She clapped her hands together. "I'm going to playfully steal you three for a couple of hours and give you all a full-body massage. Between my partner and his brother who's coming from Massachusetts we'll have you all on the table at the same time." She gave a mischievous smile to Qrow. "Sorry to say I'm not the one working you," she said. "Ghira firmly said no."
"I did?"
Qrow was smiling. "Not a problem. Are the brothers hot?"
"Qrow," Oz said quickly, his voice betraying a crack.
"Hang on," Oscar said, raising his hand. "I've never had a massage before…"
"Don't worry," Kali said brightly. "I'll explain everything on the way. But first, Ghira." And she tapped her husband with her hip, Ghira - still confused over denying Kali something, straightened and got to his point.
"Sorry," he said, "should have led with this. I spent the morning calling some people I know. You were the one who got us in contact with Winter about the class-action suit, and a lot of people are very grateful that it settled as well as it did. I told them - well, I didn't tell them everything - but I told him you'd been hit with hard times."
"You what?" Ozpin asked.
Ghira shrugged. "A bunch of them pooled all that new wealth together and more people are calling in as the word is spreading. I won't know the exact numbers but we've already scrounged up three thousand-" three thou- "dollars to help with any bills you might have. One of them - he was hired out as a decorator, a designer, for Schnee's projects - when he heard about the home invasion he said he'll come over and redo your house free of charge for what you were able to get him from the lawsuit."
"Ghira," Ozpin protested, "I hardly had anything to do with the class action suit. I barely even introduced you to Winter - the girls would have done that themselves on their own power."
"Ha!" Ghira laughed, hands on his hips. "Don't sell yourself short, professor. Winter told me about you going to some lake house and what that little retreat did to help her plan her attack on Schnee. That woman doesn't do anything without having planned it out, and she's said more than once that you gave her the idea. Besides, we look after our own in this town."
"But-"
"No buts, professor," Ghira said. "Even if you don't need the money you're still getting it."
… but he did need the money, he was still in debt from the divorce and the old rounds of medical bills, and he was ashamed that he couldn't say no. But he was also touched that so many people who didn't even know him were willing to donate something as precious as finances to help him. He was left gobsmacked, could only give a fuzzy nod and a grateful, "... thank you," as recompense.
"Perfect," Kali said, clapping her hands again. "Oh, I can't wait to get you on the table, I can already see how bunched up your shoulders are."
Ozpin was still bewildered, but it was slowly being replaced with a languid bemusement as he and his family were "stolen" and bundled into the Belladonna minivan and taken to Main Street where Kali did her work as a massage therapist. The building was a business building, and Kali smoothly guided them up to the fourth floor and down a long narrow hallway. Two brothers - twins, surely - were in the tiny space, and Kali deftly put Qrow with one brother, Oscar with another, and then smiled her Cheshire grin to Oz as she claimed him to her own room.
"I wanted to talk before you changed," Kali said, straightening out the table and adjusting a stool she would likely sit on. "There's something I don't think we've told you in the last year. You already know Ghira is a fan of your work, right?"
"He might have mentioned it," Ozpin said, somewhere between dry and confused.
"I never wanted to embarrass you," Kali said, "but we have more than a few of your papers. Do you remember the one where you talked about the philosophy of trauma?"
Ozpin winced. "I wrote that right after the accident," he said. "It wasn't my best work."
Kali smiled. "It was for us. I read that paper once a week for almost three months after Blake's assault and when Weiss was living with us. It kept me sane as I looked after my two girls, it kept my head in the right place when I was talking to them. You did so much for me, and when I gave you that foot rub last Christmas - year before last - I realized how you knew to write that paper."
Ozpin blinked, having never known any of this.
"But you were always so private, and I didn't want to intrude. But please, let me do this for you."
For two hours Ozpin had hands softer and better experienced than Qrow's working over his body, and he was certain he was little more than a melted puddle by the end. Kali used several scented oils, peppermint for bruises from the incidental injuries from the day prior, lavender to relax certain muscles, other scents he didn't recognize. She spent half her time on his bad leg, but also on his feet, saying that certain parts of his feet reverberated throughout his body, and that he was woefully out of balance.
"I've hardly started to really work on some of those knots," she said when she was finished, "I'd need to see you at least two or three more times, but I hope you feel better."
"I feel wonderful, thank you," Ozpin said. His voice was lower, he was so relaxed, and his leg hurt less than it had in years - even with the brace on it. "I had no idea your profession could affect the body in so many ways."
Kali smiled. "This is free, but if you're coming again I have to charge. I'd love to have you as a regular client, I can tell your body needs it, but you have to feel comfortable with it, too."
"Well, given the windfall your husband has just arranged," Ozpin said, "I would certainly be interested. What are your normal fees?"
They continued talking as Oscar slowly wandered in, poleaxed that his body felt as good as it did, before Qrow finally wandered in with a pleased look on his face. "That was a slice of heaven, Kali," he said brightly, "Even if it wasn't you giving it."
She smiled, pleased. "I had a lot of fun with your partner," she said playfully, "and he certainly gave me a workout. I'd love to see him again."
Qrow snorted. "Am I gonna have to keep an eye out for you?"
Kali made a show of thinking it over before saying, "Only if you don't keep your beloved satisfied."
"Fat chance of that ever happening," Qrow said, and the only word to describe it was preening, and Ozpin found himself turning slightly red.
Kali - curiously - didn't drive them home but rather to the Xiao Long household, smirking and telling Tai that Yang owed her big for this. Ozpin and Qrow looked at each other curiously, but Tai was already grinning and welcoming them into his home. "Figured you wouldn't want to eat in a living room without a coffee table," Tai said brightly, "and since the Team Mom did her job it's time for Team Dad to step in."
"I confess I'm uncertain where those titles come from," Ozpin said as he, Qrow, Oscar, and Tai all moved to the backyard. Ruby was pulling at the corners of a table cloth over their picnic bench, Yang setting up silverware and Zwei barking somewhere. It was golden hour, the back year bathed in magical light.
"Long story short," Tai explained, "The girls decided I get to be everyone's dad, and Kali is everyone's mom. The two of us decided that applied to literally everyone."
Qrow laughed outright. "God knows you've babied me enough over the years!"
Dinner was hot dogs and fries - apparently Tai had opened up his grill early for this - and the girls demanded all the lurid details of the day prior. Qrow handled most of the questions, knowing when to embellish and when to gloss over details to make it digestible to impressionable teenagers.
"Oh, before we forget, professor!" Ruby said, getting up and darting back into the house.
"Hey! I told you to bring it out earlier!" Yang said, getting up to follow her.
Qrow snorted, but Tai leaned in. "Really fast, before they jump you with their little gift, I wanted you to know: I talked to my boss today, and she thinks she can get you a discount installation for a new security system for the house."
Ozpin blinked. So did Qrow. "You're serious?" Qrow asked.
"She says she's eighty percent sure," Tai said, "She has to clear it with corporate but they like her and she's done favors for them in the past. That way, next time, if a crazy ex decides to do something as stupid as knock on your door you can know who's knocking and pretend not to be home. It also gives me an excuse to give you my extension at work so if something happens you can call me instead of the service board. Sometimes a familiar voice makes all the difference."
"Tai… I don't…"
The blond scoffed. "Don't pretend you're Qrow and think you don't deserve any of this. You're family now. Besides, you managed to make this Bi-Disaster stop being a disaster. He hasn't had Disaster Energy for almost a year, I can't remember the last time his bad luck triggered something. That's a minor miracle, but I can't canonize you so this will have to do."
Qrow snorted. "I'll have you know-" but then his face flattened out, eyes widening. "... when did my bad luck trigger something?" he asked, tilting his head as he searched.
"See?" Tai said with a smirk. He opened his mouth to say more but Ruby and Yang were back, crowding around Ozpin and Oscar as they placed a hand-made card on his plate.
"Here!" Ruby said brightly. "We've been getting people to sign it all day."
… people? As in plural? Ozpin studied the card, Oscar leaning over to do the same. Someone was a halfway decent artist, a recognizable visage of Oz, Oscar, and Qrow were doodled together inside an irregular heart, surrounded by stars and sparkles. Inside was a note - clearly Weiss' calligraphy. We hope you're all feeling better! We're glad everyone's safe! Well wishes! And several signatures were scattered around the card in a rainbow of colored pens: the principal, whom Ozpin had only met once, two of the assistant principals, the entire guidance department, all of Oscar's teachers, and four girls:
Thanks for helping me out with my Mom, you're like a third Dad! ~Yang
Thank you for taking the time to help me put my family in perspective and letting me make a decision on how to proceed. ~Weiss Schnee
Thank you for helping me figure myself out after everything that happened. I don't think I'd have made up with Yang if it wasn't for you. 3 Blake Belladonna
Thanks for all your help with Uncle Qrow! He's a lot to handle but he's worth it. I got dibs on being maid of honor! ~Ruby
Oscar snorted at the last signature, but then blinked. "Wait, Jaune Arc signed this? Why? And Pyrrha and Ren and Nora? And who is this?"
"We did say it took all day," Ruby said brightly. "We went to almost everyone at lunch. I mean, some people just like signing stuff, but a lot of them know you from picking up Oscar and if they liked Oscar they wanted to sign. Blake did the drawing and I did all the decorating. Yang made the rounds in the office and at lunch we made an announcement that Oscar needed some love and a lot of people wanted to show it."
Ozpin stared at the card, beset yet again with the idea that so many people reached out for someone they didn't know. Who's life was he living? When… why… what had he ever done to deserve this? When had he ever felt so happy? So safe? So relieved? He looked up to Ruby and Yang, their warm, smiling faces, and he was light-headed, unable to stop smiling, feeling even more emotion bubbling up from some unknown well deep inside him. He held his breath to control it, the girls wouldn't understand his sudden tears - or rather, they would, and against his will one slid down his face.
"... thank you," he said, and his voice cracked for reasons that had nothing to do with yesterday.
"Yay! We got him to cry!" Ruby shouted. "Wait that sounds terrible! I'm sorry! I mean, yay we got him to feel! No, that sounds even worse. Aah, Yang, how do I say it?"
"Yay! We made him feel touched!" Yang said.
"Yay! We made him feel touched!"
The two girls threw their arms around him, and then Oscar, and the rest of the evening was spent in revelry.
It was after nine when they finally made it home. The missing coffee table was still an ominous reminder of yesterday, but now it didn't seem to bother Ozpin as much. Oscar was yawning and rubbing his eyes, putting up a brave face but still tired.
"Come on, kid," Qrow said, "Let's get you to bed."
"Yeah," Oscar said, before stopping halfway up the stairs and turning back around. "I need to figure what to call you," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Dad will always be Dad, but you need to be called something, too."
Oz, halfway to the kitchen, saw Qrow freeze on the stairs, looking up to his son. "... Qrow is fine, you know," he said, carefully.
Oscar shook his head. "It doesn't mean enough," he said. "You're a dad just like Dad and… I have to call you something. Something appropriate."
Oz was at an angle to see the look on Qrow's face as he stared at Oscar up the stairs, hand on the railing and mouth slightly agape. Ozpin backtracked to the base of the steps and looked up to his son. "My grandfather, when he was still alive, called his father 'Da,'" he said in offering.
"Da…" Oscar repeated, getting used to the sound. "Da… That could work. Good night, Dad. Goodnight, Da." Satisfied with the test, Oscar moved upstairs to his room, and Qrow was still poleaxed at the bottom, wine-colored eyes wide as he turned to stare at his lover, absolutely shocked. He was beautiful in that moment, and Ozpin leaned in to kiss his cheek.
"Christ I love that kid," Qrow finally muttered, following Ozpin into the kitchen and grabbing a soda as Ozpin started to make some indulgent hot chocolate. "I thought it was a mistake this morning. I was up making the calls for the day off and he called me Dad. He was still half asleep, I thought he thought I was you, but…" He was smiling, face an effigy of the same euphoria that seemed to persistently impress itself to Ozpin over the course of the day. "What do you even say to that? I was just standing there like a damn goofball."
Ozpin smiled. "I think the response very simple," he said, "You accept the title."
"But… I've never had kids before…."
Ozpin looked at his lover with a raised eyebrow. "You truly can't believe that," he said. "You've had just as much a hand at raising Yang and Ruby as Tai. You need only look at their accomplishments to know that you would be an excellent father."
They sat together at the kitchen table, Qrow still wide eyed, unable to even open his soda. "Oz," he said seriously. "I gotta be honest with you. Sometimes I can be a royal screw up - more than half the trouble I get in is my own making; but I swear, I'll do my absolute best with that kid of yours. If he's gonna start calling me 'Da,' then holy Jesus I'm gonna do everything in my power to live up to that."
In that moment Ozpin wasn't sure it was possible to love Qrow more, but he did, and he reached out and held his lover's hand. "Don't be perfect," he said softly, "Be yourself."
Qrow made a noise, but he finally opened his soda, and Ozpin sipped his hot chocolate. He still found it hard to believe that yesterday had even happened - it felt like some kind of disjointed dream. Today felt like some kind of disjointed dream, but if both days were so he liked today infinitely better. There was a fullness in his heart, larger than ever before - including after he'd found Qrow.
He tried to determine the root cause: there was no longer the fear of Salem finding him, of course, but also there was no fear that she could hurt him or Oscar ever again. Even belying the charges of home invasion, assault and battery, stalking for her partner Tyrian, attempted murder that would keep her in prison for a very long time, there was no fear of an "after." Salem held no power over him anymore, nor Oscar, and failing that, he had Qrow. That was part of it - perhaps the largest part - but also there was the allowance of being able to grieve, something he had never given himself permission to do, but Qrow had. That tiny allowance, it's okay to make noise, had burrowed somewhere deep in his brain and a hundred feelings had poured out of him. It was like the damn had been broken, and his heart refused to be held in check any more. Ozpin could sense that he would wake in tears again, as he mourned and processed everything that had happened to him - but now instead of quiet dread and hoping he could gain control quickly, he knew that he would have a safe space to explore those emotions and come to terms with them in a way he never had before. On top of that - the sheer outpouring of goodwill from the people he knew was unfathomable.
"You're quiet," Qrow said, and Ozpin looked over at his lover, who had so miraculously given him a space to… a space to breathe. Qrow watched him, always so attentive, so willing to do something for him even back when they first met. So much of what had happened could be traced back to Qrow and here he was, vowing to be the very best he could be for Oscar and somehow thinking himself deficient.
"I think…" Ozpin said, staring, "that I am having a somewhat transcendental experience."
Qrow smirked. "Should I break out the harps and overhead lights?"
"No, you don't understand," Oz said, frowning as he tried to put his multitudinous thoughts together coherently. This wouldn't be a paper, it would be a book. "I want… I think I…"
"Heh. Not used to seeing you speechless, Oz, and this is like the fourth time today."
Ozpin hummed, aware of the frequency, still trying to find the right words. He was so inspired, there was so much he wanted to say, much like in that one text chat they had had. The one that inspired…
"... Fuck my life," he muttered.
Qrow choked on his soda, coughing for several seconds. "Not exactly what I was expecting you to say, Oz," he said, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. "Turn on or not."
"No, forgive me," Ozpin said. "I am being uncharacteristically obtuse. Do you remember that conversation? You were upset about something - your sister I think - and you were texting me to distract yourself?"
Qrow coughed. "I remember texting you to suck my dick," he said, "and I damn near had a panic attack when you told me to shut up."
"No, before that. We were having a lovely conversation about the meaning of the phrase. You got me thinking about the definition of a life, how it is contextualized from a person to their actions. I've written two papers based on that question."
"I know," Qrow said, still a little confused at what Ozpin was getting at. "I'm the one that drove you to Boston for the speaking engagements."
"Yes, but the very impetus of those papers were to do with the mechanics of that phrase. How does one have intercourse with a life? That was the fundamental question that started it all, and I think I finally found the answer to that question. It's not about the 'fuck,' per se, to use the vernacular, when emotional discourse is added it becomes love. You and I, we do not 'fuck,' we make love. So, then, when one asks the question of the mechanics of that phrase, it should instead be rewritten as 'love my life.' Qrow, what is the most obvious way one loves a life?"
Qrow was overtly lost now, staring openly but humoring his lover. "I don't know," he said. "Live it?"
"Ah, yes, that would be an entirely different avenue to pursue," Oz said, his mind partitioning off to wander around that idea as well, "But how do two people love each other's lives? The answer has been right there, staring me in the face and is one of the few constants across all societies and across all ages: marriage."
Qrow stared at him, the beat of silence drawing out, everything solidifying in Ozpin's head, mind moving a mile a minute, several chapters practically writing themselves. But moreover, his epiphany applied to his own life. He loved Qrow, yes, but he had not loved his life, not the way he should have since his confession that New Year's Eve. He loved all of Qrow: from nieces to brother in law to recovered alcoholism to flirty sponsor. Qrow loved all of Ozpin: son and broken body and (now-)impotent ex-wife. The only thing left was loving each other legally. It was so obvious Ozpin couldn't understand how it had taken him so long to arrive at the solution.
"Marry me, Qrow," he said. "Agree to fuck my life."
A blink. A swallow. A long, long pause.
But, then, a beleaguered smile. "You say the corniest shit," Qrow muttered, and leaned in to kiss him, deep and aggressive and throaty. "Yeah, Oz. I'll marry you."
Ozpin leaned in to kiss him, just as aggressive. Just as deep, humming in pleasure.
It was a wonderful life Ozpin lived. And he was grateful for every day of it.
The End
Author's Notes: ~Self Indulgence~ Wow what to even say...
First: Qrow should be renamed Knight in Shining Armor for all the stuff he ends up doing in this fic with his up-to-now hated streak of belligerence. He's such a natural defender and he does not hold back. The Qrow-Tyrian fight isn't as awesome as their fight in V4, but the emotional stakes are way different and we think that balances out. Oscar has agency in handling Salem and it's Ozpin who manages to stop Salem, achieving his mission from the God of Light, huzzah!
And then we finally get the payoff of Oz just quietly being himself for the entire fic: he's been helping people left and right and it finally comes back to him like ten-fold: starting with Qrow giving him a place to BE. When we were still under That Person, we jealously carved out safe times to talk and vent and allow ourselves to feel all the things we needed to feel, and Ozpin never gave himself that permission. Qrow did. And it all bubbles out from there, as we realize he had an effect of literally everyone's lives in the fic, even people we never see.
And the softest thing we could think of: Oscar finally calls Qrow Da, and Ozpin unexpectedly pops the question in the most Ozpin way possible. And we finally get to Define a Life.
Live an awesome life you two!
