Chapter 9/ 19

Enslaved To A Flame

Chapter 10

Shocking Developments

Victoria didn't see William before or after dinner. He'd slipped away after their match, giving her an excuse of having to talk to Ozpin. It was likely, but she couldn't help the thought that he wanted someone else instead of her.

When she returned to the room she found it empty. Both William's sword and his jacket were gone, which mean he was likely still out.

'Don't touch my sword.' He had come close. The blade almost hit, no hesitation. No mercy. A shiver went up her spine.

Victoria eased her guitar off her back, setting it next to her bed. If he wasn't back when she got out of the shower, then maybe she'd play some.

She lingered by the window for a moment, looking at the darkening sky before turning away. If she recalled, it would be clear tonight. Hopefully clear enough to see the moon.

She grabbed a towel from her footlocker, slipping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. She turned the shower on first, then started undressing. Jeans and her top piled up on the floor.

A cursory glance at the mirror made her frown. She had a few boys flirt with her. A sweet one or two that tried to make friends. Some friends from highschool that she made an effort to connect with, but they all fell away when she talked about them.

Them being scars.

Slim white lines along her stomach, short knife strokes. One or two of them were deeper, the one between her breasts cut to her sternum. Another on her side was small, but Victoria recalled how it felt, the knife blade sinking in up to the hilt. The knife had stuck for a while after that, Victoria unwilling to pull it out as a child. The feeling of it had never left her.

The mirror fogged, clouding the sight of her body. Her gaze lingered for another moment before she stepped into the shower.

The water was hot, almost too hot, but she decided it would help instead of hurt. It washed the tension out of her shoulders, and hopefully would help clear her head.

The hot water didn't exactly help with her head. It let her wash up and get a clean feeling, but her head wasn't any better when she got out.

All she could think was that William had gone to Ozpin to replace her. Send her back to her mother. She swallowed at the thought.

'Your fault he died!'

'You're the reason he's dead!'

"Victoria, you in there?"

It took her a moment to realize the voice wasn't in her head, and another to realize the gruff tone belonged to William. He'd come back.

To dismiss her.

"I-I'm here." She said, biting her lip as she quickly dried off. She left her hair down, a bad habit of hers, but she'd forgotten to bring a separate towel for it.

"Just checking. You taking a shower?"

"Just got out." Victoria called back, wrapping the towel around herself. It covered her bust and plenty of her lower, but her scar still peaked out above the towel, a sharp white line running up her sternum.

Would William care? Would he want someone damaged on his team? Ozpin said he would, but did he really? And was it just charity or? Her thoughts spun about in her head, without an answer or conclusion in sight.

She hesitated at the doorway, a more pressing matter rising to the forefront.

How much of a pervert was William?

She hadn't thought about taking clothes in, but not she regretted not.

She swallowed again, steeling herself as she cracked the door.

William was in his desk by the bathroom door. He glanced at her, sea green eyes flicking up and down her frame before going back to his book.

"I thought you were a blonde." He said, not moving his eyes off the page again.

Victoria froze. What?

"Come again."

"You've reddish pink hair mixed it. You have it pulled back earlier and I couldn't tell. I just didn't realize you were a strawberry-blonde." William replied, unphased by her response.

Oh. Hair color.

"Oh. Yeah." She reached back with one hand, the other on the towel. "Sorry, I don't think about it much."

She eased past him, opening her locker and pulling out her pajamas. She hesitated again, looking back to the bathroom door.

Would it be rude?

Before she could make up her mind William scooted his chair in, giving her plenty of space to slip by.

"We'll have to think of a changing curtain or something so it's not as awkward. I don't know what sort of team Ozpin is going to make out of us, but if it's a four-person coed team, I don't want it to get awkward or anything." William glanced back at her, smiling a little. "Not that you're not pretty, I just don't want you uncomfortable with your own team."

Victoria let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. Confidence returned, worries dispelled for a moment.

She matched his smile. "Of course. I didn't think about taking clothes in. I figured you'd be out a little longer." She moved back to the bathroom, noticing out of the corner of her eye that William seemed tenser than he had in the arena. His eyes were red as well.

Had he been crying?

She closed the door behind her, hesitating as she recalled his face. A grim line for lips. His eyes weren't puffy, but around them was red, like he'd been rubbing them.

She dressed, pulling on shorts and an oversized hoodie. The hoodie was at least ten years old, but it was well worn and soft, taken care of with plenty of care. A beaten decal hung to the front, the letters faded and the picture had long ago been washed off.

William glanced at her again when she walked out. This time though he seemed shocked, his eyes glazing over as if he was seeing a ghost.

"William?"

He flinched, neck muscles flexing as he snapped the pencil in his hand. Then he blinked, and the expression was gone.

"Sorry." He said simply, sweeping the fractured pencil to one side of his desk. "A hazy memory, that's all. That hoodie looks pretty old, where'd you get it from?"

She smiled, looking down at the faded decal, the jagged stitching across it. "My dad, he was a cop." The rest of her sentence never happened, a lump in her throat catching her words before she could say them.

William nodded, humming softly. "I gotcha." His voice was solemn, a measure of sorrow matching the one stuck in her throat. "Don't worry about it."

Victoria nodded, swallowing the lump after a second and moving to an empty desk across the room. William didn't seem to mind, he just slid back into his desk, returning to whatever he was doing before.

"We'll be having another member coming shortly. A guy named Leonardo Zaffre. His flight is coming in tomorrow morning." William said suddenly.

"Another? Ozpin already found another person?" Like us. She hadn't meant it to come out quite like that, but the connotation was clear.

William chuckled. "I guess so." He muttered, humming softly at the thought. "Do you have something you want to ask?" He shifted behind her, probably turning around to face her

Victoria started to shake her head, but stopped, realizing she did. He had too many things hinting at it to not bring up.

She turned her chair around, munching on her lip uncertainly. William's expression was relaxed, his shoulder back as he met her gaze. He seemed calm enough. But she'd seen her fly into a rage after being pleasantly sweet as well.

"Ask away." William prodded. "I don't bite." He paused, eyebrows quirking before a small smirk slid across his lips. "Much."

"What's your trauma? I can only assume that's what Ozpin meant when he called us here. That's what he told me. That we have similar troubles and we don't mix with normal people." Victoria shifted, placing her hands on her knees.

William stared at her for a moment, a mix of emotions seeming to teeter on his lips. Glimpses of expressions touching his lips and eyes, a quirk of a smile, a clenched jaw of a snarl, the flash of amusement in his eyes.

"I have lots of trauma. Take a few guesses." William replied finally, leaning forward in his chair.

"Abuse."

"Check."

"Neglection."

"Double check."

Victoria paused at the next notion. How William's eyes disconnected, glazing over slightly.

"Emotional detachment."

The glaze on his eyes retreated as a smirk appeared on his lips. "I suppose you caught that in my replies? Sorry. Makes things easier."

"What else?"

William shrugged. "I'm sure you'll find out soon enough, if this is a trauma team then we'll pick at each others scars." He paused, as if considering something. His mouth opened, then shut awkwardly.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for your father. I bet he was a good guy."

He looked genuine. Like he might have known him even, an impossible feat, but one that seemed to reflect in his eyes. She smiled, finding her vision blur.

"I appreciate that. He was amazing."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Victoria replied, reaching up and brushing the tears away with the back of her hand. "It's just some bad fate that's all. Things happen. We have to push through."

William hummed, smiling softly at her words. Then he got up, walking across the room and holding out his hands. "Doesn't sound like the words of a user. So you're the other alternative."

Before Victoria could react, William had slid his open palm up her arm and back down into her palm, his fingers brushing over slim lines across her wrist.

Victoria reacted like she'd been shocked, jerking her hand away. Purple eyes went wide as she scrunched up in the chair away from him.

"I understand." William assured her. "But how about a promise." He held out his hand, turning it slightly so the scars on his knuckles and fingers shown more clearly in the moonlight. "Don't cut while you're on this team."

"Sometimes it just happens." Victoria shot back, giving him a wary look. "It's a personal matter."

"My dad murdered my father. I was sold to my uncle. I have no sense of personal boundaries, so you'll have to deal Victoria. Just promise me this. If this is supposed to help us. Then talk to me when you do. How about that?"

Victoria was quiet for a long time. Her purple eyes bore into William's. The staring contest held for a minute or two, neither moving. William kept his hand out stretched, until Victoria timidly slid her hand into it, giving it a soft squeeze.

"Maybe." A whisper. Softer than that even, like she was scared of the reply.

"Then I guess I'll be here as your leader." William replied, shaking it and taking a step back. "Sorry if I got too pushy."

Victoria bit her lip, nodding slowly. "I'm going to bed."

She got up and climbed into her bunk, rolling to the corner and putting her back to William.

She heard him shift, but not footsteps. A little while past, sleep escaping her as her thoughts spun. Then finally she heard him sit back down in his chair.

He'd offered her an out. Or rather, council.

Someone to talk to that could relate. He showed his hands. Those scars could be his bowstring, or semblance. Maybe he cut at his fingertips? Or maybe he just didn't care at all.

When Victoria woke in the morning, she found the room empty. William's uniform was gone, as was his sword. He must have left in the morning.

She dropped to the ground, a hand wrapping around her wrist and rubbing it. The slim lines rubbed against her callouses. She dug into her duffel bag, pulling out a pair of purple sweatbands and sliding them onto her wrists, then a pair of hairbands. Her scars were covered.

She changed into her uniform. Classes would start soon, but she had the day off. Her courses took a bit of time to shift to Beacon's schedule. She could only wonder what classes and hope they would be suitable to her style. She liked getting time off in the mornings to stroll around or practice songs.

She picked up her guitar and slung it over his shoulder as she headed out the door. Victoria grabbed her scroll on the way out, closing the door and locking it as she walked down the hall.

RWBY was rushing out the door, Yang and Wiess in the lead on their mad sprint to class. Victoria followed them out, but decided she'd rather not sit in on a class she might not be in.

She pursed her lips. She had zero to do. Nothing. Zip. Nada. Her class schedule was being handled, she'd likely get an email later about it. She was in no mood to spar again.

Wasn't there someone coming from the airport today? Zaffre? Something like that? The transport would be coming in soon for the morning flights. Maybe she could catch it?

Victoria jogged across the Beacon plaza, her eyes on the skies as she searched the horizon for the ship. Had it already arrived?

The waiting area was clear, a billboard up with the times, but she didn't need to reference it. The ship had appeared, rising up from Vale's stop and turning slowly towards Beacon.

William had said he'd be on the morning flight in. Which meant in only a dozen or more minutes, she'd have a new teammate. Someone else to share trauma with.

Or someone else to judge her for them.

A shiver raced up her spine as she thought about William's hands pressed against her scars. One hand clasped around the wristbands, squeezing them hard.

He understood that pain right? He hadn't thought she was weak for it?

Victoria swallowed, lingering for a moment on the platform before heading to a bench. She took a seat as she pulled the guitar around to her front.

He hadn't thought of her as a burden. He was just crude. Rough around the edges. He said it himself, he didn't have a good grasp of boundaries.

She picked idly at the strings of her guitar, humming softly as a tune finally came to her fingers. Slow and solemn, it came to her.

The words came to her lips, but she swallowed them in her thoughts instead of letting them out. She kept plucking the strings to the song though, playing it out. Then another, a slightly faster tune that required more of her concentration for a few sections of the cords.

The airship was still a few minutes out when she finally noticed she had a guest. She stopped immediately, jerking her head up as the shadow crossed in front of her.

Sea-green eyes stared back at her, William's pitch-black hair drenched in sweat. He wore a tank top and shorts and some running shoes. He looked winded, but still ready for more.

"Thought I heard a guitar." He said, his voice level and ease. He was always calm. Almost apathetic.

Victoria swallowed, hesitating to put her fingers back to the strings.

"You play pretty well." William noted as he moved to the other side of the bench, giving her plenty of room. "Bet it couples well with your semblance."

She nodded slowly, unsure how to take William. "Yeah." An awkward pause. "It works well against projectiles…"

"You could be your own amp." William proposed, ignoring the combat potential. "Wouldn't even have to bring a speaker to play for a crowd."

The thought of play for a crowd made Victoria's hands break out in a cold sweat. So many eyes picking at her. What if they saw her scar? What if they asked?

"But you don't like people looking at you for the same reason I want people to look at me." William replied, breaking her train of thought. "This Leo kid, I checked his file. He's different from you and me."

The topic change was appreciated, but it also gave Victoria pause. William wanted people to look at him. To see his scars. Why? Hiding in plain sight? He seemed like the type.

"What do you mean different? We're all…" Victoria trailed off, looking around the platform. No one else was there, but she still didn't want to say it.

"Damaged." William finished for her. "We are. But Leo's damage is criminal. He was in juvie for four years for killing his father." William paused for a moment, as if considering something for a moment. A far away look glazed over his eyes again. As if he was seeing something else. Then they focused again, razor sharp on her. "He's killed a man Victoria. And I know what kind of damage that causes."

So, that meant William had done the same. Murder. William had murdered someone. Abused, sold, beaten and mistreated. Who had William killed? And what had twisted his life so violently that it became this way?

"You're wary." She took a guess.

William nodded. "If he's not mentally stable, I don't want him."

'What if I'm not mentally stable?' The thought crossed Victoria's mind an instant later. Would William want her then? What if she had a breakdown in front of him? What would he do?

"Not that type of breakdown." William had appeared in front of her, close this time, hand on her wrist. "Anxiety attacks and flashbacks are different from mania." He'd known.

Her breath hitched, her lungs froze up. He'd already known. How?

William slid his hand off her wrist. "Murdering a person, taking a life, does things to people. You have only a handful of options. You rationalize it. You trivialize it. Or you accept it." He paused at the next one. "Or you try to forget it and run from the nightmares."

"What's the best option?" Victoria asked as the transport pulled up to the docks, drawing closer.

"Accepting it. Death comes in war, in life, in battle. Rationalizing it makes you question it. Trivializing it means you're inclined to do it again for less substantial reasons. And forgetting it only haunts you." Williams' reply sounded like a textbook answer, trickles of his own thoughts slipping though.

"What do you think Leo has?"

"Insomnia." William didn't give a straight answer. He nodded his head at the port, the airship pulling in.

"You think he could have nightmares?"

"I think he could have night terrors. Hallucinations. Full PTSD depending on how that incident occurred. He was young when it happened." William crossed his arms as the airship stopped in front of them.

"What about you?" Victoria flinched as she said it, shoulders tightening, calves tensed to dodge. But William didn't react with force.

He simply snorted as a smirk slid onto his lips. "Careful what beast you prod Victoria. We might be similar but make no mistake." He paused, as if coming to terms with his next statement. "I'm the worst by far."

Self-hate.

She understood that.

"Enough about me. Here he comes." William's knuckles rapped against hers, hard enough to knock her out of her thoughts, but gentle enough that it didn't hurt.

She still jerked her hand up, cradling the wrist in her hand as she turned her eyes to the ramp.

There was only one person walking down the ramp that looked like they were a transfer student. Everyone else was in civilian clothes with shopping bags and chatting with friends. Only one man had a bag and a weapon. The weapon held in his right hand and set on his shoulder, a duffle bag slung over his left.

He stood a head taller than most other occupants, and his weapon only made him stand out more. A greatsword set on his shoulder that was almost as long as he was tall. He had the muscles to wield it by the looks though, his sleeveless vest made sure that was easy to see. Biceps as thick around as her thigh and a broad back and wide shoulders.

"A musclehead." William summed up. "With obnoxious hair."

Victoria chuckled at that. "It's just an undercut. Almost a mohawk in the middle, but it's not that bad."

William shoved his hand into the air, waving at him as Leo stepped off onto the platform. Then he whistled. Leo glanced at them, eying William up for a moment before his eyes settled on her. He smiled, a cocky look appearing.

Wonderful.

One of those.

"Hey there. Leonardo Zaffre. Call me Leo." He greeted, stopping a pace in front of William. His eyes lingered on Victoria, then switched back to William at the last second.

"William. Team leader." William held out his hand. "Need a hand?"

Leonardo shrugged the greatsword off his shoulder, holding the hilt out to William. "If you think you can handle it."

Dominance. Men and their stupid bravado.

William didn't seem to mind the challenge though, that or he didn't register it as a challenge. He took the hilt of the weapon in one hand, letting Leonardo drop the weight to him.

The reaction was instant. William's arm dropped, his hand slipping free of the grip. Victoria could see Leonardo's lips quirk up into the start of a smile. Her eyes were on William.

The sword dropped, the hilt nearly hitting the ground before William acted. He caught the hilt on his shoe, balancing it with a shift of his weight and letting the blade rest against his shoulder.

Leonardo blinked, a look of disappointment on his face. He'd been hoping for William to drop it completely.

"Little heavy for combat." William commented, glancing down at the blade. "The insert to help reduce that?"

The blade started at William's knee and ended in a forked tip above his head. It split into two a few inches from the start, leaving a gap in the middle Victoria could only guess the function of. It seemed odd to have a weapon that's power was derived from it's weight and force, reduced and slimmed down.

"It's got a function." Leonardo assured them both, pushing between them. "Where's the dorm? I'm ready for a little R&R."

William glanced over his shoulder at him, then back to Victoria. "Looks like I'll be having more fun whipping him into shape than you." His voice was low, but casual.

She smiled. "We'll see. First impressions aren't always right."

William hummed, turning on his heels. In one motion he kicked the greatsword up, sending the weapon flipping into the air. He caught it in his offhand, spinning it around before letting it come to a stop on his shoulder. He shrugged once, as if calibrating his shoulders to the weight, then set off after Leo.

"Nothing to quip?" Victoria called after him, swinging her guitar to her back and adjusting the strap. "Only a day and you're out of snark."

William chuckled, a dark little laugh that sent a chill up her spine. "Not even close vixen. It's just my first impressions are never wrong."

Alright. I shifted the ending point of this chapter, and redid Leonardo's enterance because I didn't like it. I wanted to further individual relationships momentarily, and establish a foundation of friendship or continuity between William and Victoria before I threw Leo into the mix and put it into a blender. If that makes sense.

Either way, I'm happier with this chapter than I was before, partly because I started fixing what was actually wrong with it, and partly because I rewrote the whole damn thing and it's actually moderately acceptable to me for now. Hope you enjoy the rewrite.