The mask haunted me horribly every day. I didn't sleep, barely ate for fear that they'd catch me in my sleep or they'd poison my food somehow.

I worked constantly on the secret mission, keeping a record of everything I found, everything I knew. I had Peyton build me a new Scroll just for this under the pretense that my other one had a glitch. It was much more advanced than the one I had bought and even better, there was no tracker inside of it and it wasn't hooked up to the school.

I wanted so badly to call the old bastard and demand that he come to the school immediately to help me. He was the only one who knew the truth about Faceless outside the Family. I wanted him by my side desperately, both as a sword and a shield against those who had come for me. But I couldn't. He was a Huntsman, not a babysitter. I couldn't go run crying to someone else every time I got threatened. This was part of my life and I needed to face it on my own.

I examined the faces of everyone I saw, looking for Omar's children.

It was hard with all the exchange students.

I literally could not sleep. Every time I began to doze, I woke suddenly with a horrible crawly feeling under my skin.

There was a danger inside Beacon. One I could sense with every heartbeat.

It was a creeping taint within the walls of my Sanctuary, subtle and invisible.

I told no one of my feelings. It wouldn't do to scare them.

Instead, I gathered my friends in my room to give them their presents.

Elise, Peyton, and Elin were beyond excited. They had been patiently waiting for my surprise that I had been working on for weeks and weeks on end.

Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang, Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, Ren, Velvet, and Sun caught their excitement.

"As you know, for the past month or so, I've been working on a secret surprise. Well, I've finished and I think now is a good time to give it. I have a feeling we'll need them in the near future." I said, sliding my eyes over the guilty feeling girls of team RWBY.

I began handing out the packages, making everyone wait till I had handed them all out.

I had a sense of anticipatory wariness. I had worked really hard on these.

"Okay... open them."

The sound of ripping paper filled the room and I held my breath.

"Oh... Oh my God." Blake said, running her hand over the cover.

Hers was dark purple with black patterns. It was a medium sized sketchbook. Something that wouldn't be a hassle to carry around in a pack.

Everyone's was a different color and I blushed. "Open up the cover, silly." I said and everyone opened it to the first page. My only sorrow was that I hadn't been able to watch Oz open his.

Inside on the first page was a large drawing of each person's personal emblem and their name in large graceful calligraphy.

As they began flipping through the sketch book, they saw how I saw them through my eyes.

Carefully detailed drawings filled the pages. Ren had a tear at the corner of his eye and I was touched. Sketches of each person talking, laughing, lots of them mid fight, of them dancing, of them crying, of each interaction between our close group of friends.

I drew them in their pajamas, in their battle attire, in their school uniforms, in their dance outfits. Posing and leaping, sleeping and hugging.

I had filled each book with that person.

It was how I would always remember them.

Blake really was crying as she saw each picture. Some of them were her as a child. Of her with and without her bow.

Elise had to cover her mouth to stifle her cries.

And the last few pictures of each book were drawings of me and the person. Elise had one of me and her walking together, my arm over her shoulder and her arm around my waist as we laughed. Of me and her fighting at the bar together. Of me and her sleeping curled together. And everyone had two pictures of all of us, sketched together, in battle stances and then how we normally look, hanging all over each other laughing and loving.

Sun had a picture of me and him posing together, back to back with our staffs at our sides grinning at each other. Of him forgetting about his own safety to help me stand at the dockyard.

Blake had a picture of me holding her when we first reconnected in the library the evening of initiation day. Of us fighting and laughing together.

Yang blushed at one of the picture I drew of her and I kissing outside of Raindance. I winked at her.

Velvet's lip quivered at a sketch of her and I hugging after I Healed her. Of me running my hand down her hair after I told her how brave she was.

I had a book in my lap too. This one was mine and I had filled it with all the pictures of me and my friends, detailed copies of the ones I had drawn in their books. Elin and Peyton were crying quietly. I didn't see a dry eye in the room.

I had two more to give. One to Penny and one to Daren. I had bought spares of the books for the other friends who I hoped would come into my life.

"I wanted to give you something special. To show you how much I love you guys and show you, how I see you through my eyes. You're the best things that ever happened to me." My voice wobbled.

Jaune stared at a wonderful picture I had drawn of him fighting the Ursa in the Forever Fall. He was fierce and brave, brandishing his sword, without fear in his eyes.

Nora gave a teary giggle at the picture of she and I making faces at each other. She had taught me that I didn't have to be serious all the time. That it was okay to let loose and be a child sometimes. And since I'd never had much of a childhood, her lessons and the times with her were something I treasured.

Ren's tears were silent and I saw a picture of him climbing up a shelf to retrieve a book for me both of us smiling as we talked about our extensive knowledge of books.

Everyone saw page after page after page of hand drawn love and beauty that I had captured with my art.

Sun used his tail to wipe his cheeks.

"How do you say thank you for something like this?" He asked. I smiled and opened myself to their emotions. It was a balm to my fear and loneliness. "You've already said it with something stronger than words."

Everyone knew what I meant, and spent many minutes more caressing each sketch with their eyes.

Even Weiss was moved by the elegant beauty I depicted her with. But she too had pictures of her yelling angrily and laughing loudly. I did portraits, full body, front, back, and side sketches, quarter turned, looking over the shoulder, sketches as if I was looking up at them from the ground or floating above them. Every angle, every pose I could call up.

I had done well.

The books were held tight to everyone's chests as they left, leaving me with nothing but hugs, kisses and their pure untarnished love.

That was better than any gift they could have given me.

But it also caused me so much pain.

Because anyone who loved me would be used to hurt me.

I had to do something I had never tried to do before.

I had to try and not worry. I had to believe that my friends were strong enough and skilled enough to survive against a man like Omar and his ilk. I had to trust them not to get killed.

It was incredibly hard.

And it made my need to keep Oz's relationship with me that much more a secret.

If Omar ever found out about my deep feelings for the Huntsman, his rage would equal nothing anyone except me has faced. Weapons did not have feelings. And this weapon was supposed to only feel love for him alone.

Loyalty only to him.

I sighed and opened my sketch novel. I flipped through all my friends to the pictures at the back. Drawings of me and Oz together.

I had taken such special care of these. Each detail of his handsome face perfectly correct, from the top of his tousled gray hair to his military stance when he stands in front of new students.

I captured the twinkle in his eye, and the sadness in his heart that melted away when I stood near.

Of us hugging, laughing, kissing and talking beneath the pale beech tree under the stars in our secret garden, telling each other secret we had never uttered to another.

Gods above, I love that man.

But I feared rejection. I didn't want to take that step that would take us from the easy relationship we had, to the more serious one that it would become if I admitted how deep the river of my feelings ran.

I wanted him to love me. But I didn't want to hurt him. And I didn't want him to hurt me.

I looked at my friends who tucked their album under their pillows before falling asleep. I smiled and blew out the candle and spent the night staring into the darkness wondering at what strange beings humans must be to have such strong feelings and so few ways to act on them.