So, in case you missed the warning last chapter and think that having a Grimm poking around your head leads to fun times, no. Nothing explicit ahead, I'm being careful to respect the T in this story's description, but Cardin will not be enjoying this visit to the dentist.

And like Cardin, I too shall endure a nightmare of mind-melting proportions. Working both days this weekend, for a total of 16 hours overtime, and working through the next week? No thank you! But hey, it's more money I can throw at art commissions. I mean food. Adult stuff. Not fanart. I'm a good adult.

To Jajo Camello, it's always nice to have more confirmation that I'm nailing what I went for. Cardin with depth, humanizing without justifying, was the whole point of this story. I'm glad you're liking it.

To AxDevilman, yes, how observant of you to realize that I just put Cinder's origin story in with that whole Scarab thing. I definitely didn't just add that to my story outline and threw away all the notes I had about her being a Mistraltan noble something something ran away something Salem something something Beetle magic?

To HeartMachine782, I think Watts is the only likable lackey at this point because he's the only lackey that RoosterTeeth hasn't had a chance to ruin yet. Don't get me wrong, I still like RWBY and RoosterTeeth and they can keep the money I'm shoving at them every six months, but I think some shows (RWBY & GenLock) have plenty of areas for improvement. Wait, whoops, didn't mean to rant. Moving on!

…I wish I had something to move on to. Uh, enjoy the chapter?

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Trial by Fear

Cardin woke up in his bed at Beacon, blinking, eyes watering. His heart raced, and his arms burning with the Aura pumping through them. As far as he was aware, he wasn't pushing his Semblance into anything. He thought about shutting it off, but he felt a vague sense of wrongness, that he was using it for a reason. His head felt fuzzy, and his memories of the past few days were a blur. He had returned from the Defender. He had been injured, Yang did it in the Vytal Festival, but what had happened after?

It was a concussion. Yang had punched him in the head, and the doctor told him to lie in bed for a few days. The dizziness and confusion were normal. But then, why was his Semblance activated? And why did it feel as though is arms and legs were being squeezed?

The door opened. Russell, Sky, and Dove walked into the room, nodding and smiling at him.

"Good, you're awake," Sky said. "It's time to go to the hospital."

The word 'hospital' made his stomach flutter, but he couldn't understand why. "The hospital?" Cardin asked. "Why are we going there now?"

"You don't remember?" Russell asked. "Right, the concussion. The docs over there are going to take a look. The guys on Atlas were worried about that shot to the head you took, didn't have the stuff to fix it."

Dove pointed his thumb at the door. "Let's go, Bullhead's waiting."

"But – what happened yesterday?" Cardin looked around the room. "Where's Penny?" He couldn't say why Penny came to mind, but he knew she was supposed to be there.

"Oh, her?" Sky asked. "Wow, you must be really out of it. When Ironwood told everyone what she was, the police arrested her. They tried to get Ironwood too, but he flew off in his ship."

He felt it clicking in place in his head, him telling Ironwood to come clean with it, try to do damage control. Why hadn't it worked?

My head's a mess."

"Yep, we're going to get that sorted out now." Russell reached under Cardin shoulder and hauled him up. Cardin's head swam as he rose, it felt as though his skull was being squeezed in a vice. Dove took his other arm, and Sky led the way out of the dorm.

They loaded him onto a Bullhead. After a short flight, the door slid open, revealing a beautiful stretch of garden, walled off with blocks of glittering granite. Broken gravel walkways meandered through slender trees and tangled shrubs in a carefully tended aesthetic sprawl of color and life. A tiny brook dribbled over a bed of smooth stones and into a small pond half-covered with water lilies.

"Come on Cardin, the doctor's waiting," Sky said, stepping down onto the path. Stone crunched beneath his boots.

Cardin backed away from his teammates, grabbing for the other door. Dove and Russell grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him out the other end.

"See, told you he'd notice," Dove said. "We should've gotten some more."

"He's not going anywhere," Russell said. "He can barely even walk, see?"

Cardin dragged his feet and wrenched at their arms, but he couldn't break free from their grip. They went down the path, Cardin's heels digging furrows in the gravel. Tilting his head up, though it made his neck feel unbearably stiff, he saw a mansion emerge from the trees. He hadn't seen it from this angle before, but there was no mistaking the sold gold statue of a bear standing at the front, glittering in the sunlight. Duke Orgen's brown and orange banner fluttered on the corners of the rooftops, and the two servants standing at the garden door, holding it open for his traitorous teammates, had brown coats over orange vests, Orgen-colored livery.

The door slammed shut behind him. Cardin had stopped struggling, instead concentrating on where they took him, which turns they took, what paintings lined the halls, where they had set out tables with antique vases, ornamental displays of Dust crystals, the different colors of lamps glittering from Dust-infused glass.

Two armed guards, dressed in black suits with orange and brown ties, flanked a set of wooden doors. With a nod, they swung the doors out, revealing a small dining chamber. A crystal chandelier, set with Dust crystals, cast red and orange light like dancing flames. The walls were painted orange and brown in intricate geometric patterns, and a lush brown carpet covered the floor, glossy and springy underfoot.

Duke Orgen, dressed in a suit studded with Fire and Earth Dust crystals, resplendent in the colors of his House, sat at one end of a short wooden table, carving into a thick tenderloin steak. At the other end, Cinder wore the dress she had been in when they had first met at his father's feast. She had a piece of seared tuna on the end of her fork, raised halfway to her lips. The fish's flesh was bright red on the inside, with the barest hint of light-brown sear around the edges. The rest of the fish sat on a bed of greens on her plate.

Duke Orgen set his fork and knife down and clapped his hands together. "Well well, looks like the main course has arrived! You three can go now."

"We're getting our money, right?" Russell asked.

"Of course, of course." He motioned for the guards to enter the room. "Gentlemen, I have three suitcases waiting in the foyer. They're each getting one."

The guards nodded and led Cardin's teammates out of the room, leaving Cardin alone with Cinder and the Duke. His stomach danced as though it had a whole theater troupe of butterflies running auditions in it. The sudden thought that he couldn't show fear, couldn't even allow himself to feel it, steeled his nerves. He took a deep breath and bowed to the Duke, studying the room. Fear would get him killed. He had to stay calm, had to find a way out of this, hard to bring the roof down. Where had that last thought come from?

Before either of them could react, Cardin scrambled for the table and scooped up a large carving knife. The Duke chuckled and wiped the grease off his chin with a large orange napkin. "Looks like the boy still has some fight in him. Cinder, be a dear and take care of it, would you?"

"With pleasure." Cinder rose from her seat and sauntered towards Cardin. He lashed out with his knife, but Cinder brushed his attack aside. Glass spun itself between her fingers, forming a thin, sharp blade. As Cardin leaned towards her, having overextend his strike, Cinder plunged the blade into his stomach. Light flashed as his Aura absorbed the blow, and with a sharp cold crack, his Aura broke, and the blade dug a long, shallow line just above his belt. Blood seeped into his shirt. He staggered back and fell to the floor, panting and dizzy. Cinder wiped the blood off her blade, rubbing it between her fingers, smiling as it stained her fingers.

"Pathetic." Cinder snapped her hand, and the glass knife shattered, scattering glittering glass motes into the air. "You thought you could win the Vytal Festival like this?"

"Don't be so hard on him. Anyone would be weak as a kitten after what he'd been through." He pushed his plate away and stood up. "Get him patched up. I don't want him bleeding to death after all the trouble we went through to get him here."

Cardin looked up at the Duke. His vision had gone blurry, transforming the Duke into a hulking black shape with a bone-white face. His eyes glowed red from the Dust-light. The fear returned, and just as quickly, he crushed it. The roof. He had to bring down the roof. But how? His Aura was gone, and his Semblance… with a start, he realized that his arms still burned, Aura coursing through them. Hadn't Cinder just broken his Aura?

"You're not going to kill me?" he asked.

"Not quite yet. Your death will be announced on the evening news, died of complications from your injures. Your father will remarry, and we'll announce your miraculous recovery just after he ties the knot." The Duke let out a hearty guffaw. "Any bets on how long it'll take his new bride's family to kill him? I'm thinking a week, tops. And after that, we'll have the Duke of Winchester completely under our power, kept in a hospital room for his health, of course." He knelt over Cardin and patted his head like a dog. "We can't allow you to leave and die of your injures, could we?"

The knife was still in his hands. His legs refused to move, and he barely had the strength to sit up. He pressed a hand to his stomach, and it came away smudged red. He looked back at the knife. Just one quick slice, with his Aura gone, and his family would be saved. Duke Orgen's scheme would unravel around him, he'd have to try getting a doppelganger, which the other Dukes would see through. He just had to…

But his Aura wasn't gone, was it? It was still burning in his arms, forcing down the roof. Yes, the roof. He can get free if he just brings the ceiling down on Duke Orgen and Cinder. He hurled the knife at the Duke. The older man stepped aside with surprising agility for his bulky frame and scowled at him.

"Cinder, get him under control. I'll have them get the room ready."

Cardin slammed both of his hands on the floor, pushing everything he had into weighing down everything around him. He thought he heard the sound of creaking wood overhead, but before anything could happen, Cinder's foot slammed into the side of his head. The dining room had vanished before his head touched the carpet.

Cardin awoke again, head fuzzy, memories blurred. His eyes stung, and he blinked away tears. The world was a gray blur before his eyes, but when he concentrated, the incoherent shapes resolved into iron bars, stone walls, and an empty, cold corridor. A sudden surge of adrenaline sprang him out of bed, up against the bars. He tested them with his hands, but they were solidly built, firmly set inside the stone, with a thick metal lock. He reached for the keyhole, but his fingers could only graze it. Maybe if he brought down the roof, he could escape. How would that help? The entire cell was solid rock. With a start, he realized that he was using his Semblance. Had he been doing it in his sleep?

Before he could decide to stop the flow of Aura in his arms, footsteps echoed down the hall, with a distinctive clack that suggested high heels. Cardin lurched away from the bars and hid under the ratty blanket.

Keys rattled, and the door clanked open, swinging inward with a loud creak. Rough hands dragged him out of bed and forced him on his feet, but he feigned exhaustion, keeping his eyes closed and hanging his head like a rag doll.

A heeled foot kicked him in the stomach. His eyes flew open, and he gasped for air. Wait, why hadn't his Aura blocked the blow? And how was he still using his Semblance?

"Good, you're awake," Cinder said. "Come along, I have some very special guests here to see you."

The two goons escorting her dragged him down the narrow, dank corridor and into a dimly lit chamber. Underneath the flickering light sat a desk and chair. A single sheet of paper and a pen were laid out on the desk. Along the walls were racks of countless torture devices. Just looking at them brought him to his knees.

No. No fear, can't feel fear. Indignation burned, swallowing up his fear for the moment. "What is this? Is this how you treat a ducal heir? The other houses won't stand for it."

"No, the Dukes will sit like the good dogs they are." Cinder ran her hands over a long leather whip. "I have some good news for you, Cardin. Your father is dead. You are now the Duke of Winchester, with full legal possession of all the Winchester assets, the bank accounts, stock shares, land rights, and the rest.

The floor fell out from under him. The guards had to haul him up onto the chair and hold him in place as they bound his chest and legs. The pressure felt familiar, as if it had been there before they had tied the rope.

Cardin looked down at the piece of paper. The words slipped away from him, but he could see the long, empty line at the bottom. "Let me guess, you want me to sign this?"

"Of course. And once that's done, you'll get a clean death, quick and painless." Glass spun in her fingers and glowed white-hot. "You won't even feel the blade."

Cardin reached for the pen. He knew it was useless, knew that he'd give eventually. What would it matter if he held out for a few minutes or a few days? But when he brought the pen to the paper, he couldn't bring himself to sign it. His arms still smoldered with the Aura in them. If he brought down the roof, but no, this ceiling was stone too. Maybe he should try anyways? With his pen hand, he ran it along the words of the document, pretending to read it in detail, while he funneled everything he had through both arms.

Cinder tapped a foot, and it rang through the room. "Well? If you don't sign soon, I'll have them start."

"I'm reviewing the document's conditions. I won't decide until I'm done reading it."

He knew it wouldn't hold forever, but it would buy him a few minutes. His chest grew numb as Aura drained out of him, but the ceiling gave no hint of change. He could have sworn he heard a distinctive pop, but still nothing happened.

"You've had your chance," Cinder said, "And I'm not willing to wait forever." She snapped, and the two goons went to the racks. One came away with a blunt club, while the other opened a vice. "I'll give you one last warning. Sign the paper now, or you won't like what comes next."

Cardin gritted his teeth and set the tip of the pen over the dotted line. His hand shook, and he had to use his other hand to steady himself.

"My hands are shaking. You want this signature to be legible, right? Maybe you should lay off on the fear tactics."

That single word, fear, reverberated through him. He couldn't feel fear, must not feel fear, or it would be over. But why was that?

Cinder's expression hardened, and she slammed a hand on the corner of the desk. "You will sign right now, or I'll have you beaten until every speck of skin on your body is bruised."

Cardin grabbed the pen at both ends, pushed, and snapped it in two. Bits of plastic splintered off, and ink dribbled out of the cracks, staining the paper.

With a nod from Cinder, one of the guards raised his club and struck him on the side of the head. Consciousness faded, and before the next blow landed, the world vanished.

He opened his eyes again, blinking violently, sudden panic rising and freezing as he realized he was strapped to a chair in a room full of torture implements. His blood was smeared across the floor and stained the desk in front of him, but the sheet of paper and pen set before him were immaculate, glowing as if infused with Dust.

Ruby stood before him. Tears ran down her face as she unwound a knotted whip. "Please don't make me do this. Just sign the paper, and we can all go home."

Cardin reached for the pen and threw it. It hit the far wall clattered to the floor, bounced off the bloodied stone, and landed where it had been before.

Ruby cracked the whip on the floor. "I'm sorry. I have to do this, Yang's going to be executed for killing you if I don't. Cinder promised me she'd save her. So please, just sign it already!" The whip slammed into the desk right next to his arm, sending vibrations through the wood.

"Do you really think she's going to keep her word?"

Ruby's hand dropped, and a fresh wave of tears rolled down her cheeks.

"No, but I have to try."

Ruby's hand rose. He had to bring down the roof. Fear would kill him. Cardin's Semblance roared in his arms. The whip fell.

The sudden pain in his shoulder made him blink, and the world slipped away again. His back stung with every breath he took. His clothes were sticky. The air reeked of sweat and blood, and his throat burned for lack of water.

"You're not going to sign, are you?" Blake asked.

Cardin shoved the pen away. A second later, it reappeared next to the paper.

"Cinder's going to frame me as a White Fang spy." She grabbed a knife from the racks. "Funny, isn't it? That's how you used me." She twirled the blade in her fingers, idly staring it as it spun a shimmering gray circle around her hand. "I had hoped I could run away from my past, but it keeps following me."

"We don't get to run away from who we are," Cardin said. "All we can do is live with it."

Fear is death. Make the roof fall. Use all his Semblance.

He blinked.

The world was pain. He could feel broken bones in his legs. His tongue probed his mouth, rubbing against gaps in his teeth.

"You knew I loved you," Weiss said. She turned a pair of pliers in her hands. "You knew, and you used me."

Cardin's throat seized up. He tried to speak, but his throat was too dry to manage anything more than a pitiful croak.

"Cinder told me that you had made deals with my father behind my back. My father confirmed it." Her hands squeezed, and the pliers snapped shut. "I was a fool. I should have seen it sooner, but now I understand what you, Cinder, and all the rest are. You're monsters. You don't feel anything for anyone else. All you care about are yourselves, how to use others to get ahead, how to dispose of anyone in your way. You could never love me, could you?"

That question stirred all sorts of uncomfortable feelings in his chest, bitter regret, anger, guilt. What did love even mean to someone like him? At best, he'd get a wife whose best interest lay in keeping him alive long enough to raise a legitimate heir. What would he be for her? Why would she even want him?

"Love you?" he snorted. "Get real. We've known each other for what, a few months? You don't know anything about me."

The words felt as though they had been torn from his chest. How was he letting her muddle up his thoughts this much?

Weiss' face hardened. "I know exactly what I need to know about you." She opened the pliers and held them up in front of him. "I don't get to go home unless I do as Cinder asks. Sign the paper, or I will be forced to do something I'd rather not."

Cardin stared at the pen sitting in front of him. He blew, air leaving his lungs in a weak puff of wind, but it was enough to blow the pen over the edge of the desk. It kept rolling in the air, as if the desk stretched invisibly outward, stopped, and rolled back into position.

"Very well. I'm sorry, but this is the only way."

The pliers reached for him grabbing him by the nose. The roof. No fear. Arms burning.

He blinked.

His whole body burned as Aura was pumped into him. Jaune sat at his side, holding his wrist.

"Cinder had me heal you. She couldn't have you dying until you signed that paper."

Cardin reached out, trying to push it away, but he didn't have the strength to move. As if by Cardin's will, the pen fell through the desk, only to drop from the ceiling back in place.

Jaune drew a knife from his belt and set it on the desk. "Here. This way, you won't give Cinder what she wants, right?"

Cardin grabbed the knife and set it against his own throat. His arms burned, not with fatigue or Jaune's Aura, but his own Semblance. The roof, he had to bring down the roof, that was the only way to escape.

"You're not going to hurt me?" Cardin asked.

Jaune looked down at him with a sorrowful smile. "I don't think I could. Not like this. No matter how awful a person is, they don't deserve this."

The growing chill in his chest might have been his body's response to dwindling Aura reserves, or it might have been the thought that Jaune was still trying to help him. He had harassed him, forced him to hurt his own teammates, set him up with a false romance, and he still tried to save him.

The knife fell to the desk.

"Please," Jaune said. "Cinder said she'd have to find something more convincing. Whatever happens next, I think it'll be worse than anything in here."

Fear wriggled through him, but that white-hot, iron-clad resolution strangled it. "She can try."

The knife rusted before his eyes and blew away in the stagnant air. Jaune sighed and pushed more Aura into Cardin.

Blink.

He was at the docks, surrounded by White Fang, Aura broken and armor gone. They were coming for him with ropes, saying he'd make a good hostage. Blake's sword was on the ground next to him. There wasn't a roof here, so why was he trying to bring it down on their heads? And where had that Aura come from?

Blink.

A chittering swarm of Scarabs chased him through the tunnels. Up ahead, the glimmering light that marked the exit vanished, replaced by thousands of beady red pinpricks. No fear, the Scarabs would get him if he felt fear, and why did that name sound right?

Blink.

A book sat open in front of him on the table, the words too blurred to read. His head burned from concentrating, but his arms held an even greater flame. Why was he trying to bring down the roof of his own home?

"You will learn to read," his father said. "Failure is not an option for a Duke's son."

Ah, that's why. Some structural damage would make a nice distraction from the day's reading lessons. The birch rod snapped in his father's hands. He willed himself not to flinch. A Duke's son can never be afraid.

Blink.

Torchwick stood over him, still wearing his bloodied coat. His eyes stared at him unfocused, unblinking, dead. He leaned forward, and Cardin could smell the stench coming off him. The train's roof was half caved-in already, it wouldn't take much more to crush Torchwick with it, just a little more.

"Hello, Cardin," the cadaver croaked. "Did you miss me?"

Blink.

He was running through the Emerald forest, chased by a howling pack of Beowolves. The trees thinned up ahead, and he slid to a stop a couple steps short of a cliff. Jagged rocks waited for him at the bottom.

Jumping would be the cleaner death, but he couldn't let himself be afraid. He charged at the swarm, swinging wildly with his mace until teeth sank into his arm.

Blink.

He was running through Beacon's halls. He could hear Nora's mad cackling behind him as her hammer smashed through another door.

"Come out, Cardin! I know you've been spying for the squirrels!"

The door up ahead was locked. He tried smashing it open, but his mace, even with his Semblance behind it, didn't even dent the door. Maybe he could bring down the roof, escape that way…

"Boop!"

Blink.

He was back in the cell. Cinder stood on the other side, but her eyes glowed red instead of their usual amber. When she spoke, her lush, silken voice was replaced with an apathetic tone, drained of all personality.

"You resist," she said. "With time, I could break you, but the human tells me to hurry, so I will take you to Salem." The walls around him melted away, each drop that fell revealing murky, depthless space. Cinder stood in place as the floor under her dripped away, morphing into a Grimm spheroid, floating, pointed tentacles draped beneath it.

"Be grateful," the Grimm said. "Not many have had the honor of seeing our queen."