Post-Scriptum - A Night Out
"You have got to be shitting me..."
The doctor looked on sadly as Hope rubbed his eyes in frustration. First thing in the morning and he discovers that he'll have to live in the hospital for a year.
"I'm afraid not, mister Hope." The doctor informed.
Hope sighed, taking his hand out of his face.
"Anything else I should know, doc?"
The doctor nodded.
"Unfortunately yes. Upon further inspections, we have cause to believe that on top of your severe external and internal injury, you may have sustained nerve damage."
Hope's eyes narrowed.
"Fuck's that mean?"
"Your pain receptors have been severely overworked and, in layman's terms, have been worked raw."
Hope sighed again, resigned.
"Lay it on me..."
"The pain you will feel will be much more... Vivid, from now on."
"How much more?" Hope dared to ask.
"We aren't sure," The doctor replied honestly. "It could be as light as a scrape stinging a bit more than usual to feeling like a third-degree burn."
"Is it permanent?"
"We don't know."
Hope's eyes narrowed.
"How come you don't know? It's your job to know these things."
It was now the doc's turn to sigh.
"Normally I'd be offended by your implications. But unfortunately, I have never had to deal with an Auraless person. On a few occasions, I've dealt with people who have gone through similar injuries to you but usually, their Auras stitch them back together quite handily. Especially those with more developed Auras. But you? I have never had to deal with someone with your... Disability."
Hope hummed to himself.
"I guess it makes sense," Hope grumbled. "At least it explains why moving is such a pain."
He gave the doctor an apologetic look.
"Sorry about what I said."
The doctor held his hands up.
"None taken. If anything, I understand your feelings. It is... Frustrating, to not understand what ails my patients. But again, you are an extraordinary case, mister Hope."
"You can say that again..."
"We will see in a year."
"A year..." Hope repeated grimly.
I doubt that we have that much time, Doc.
The doctor rose from his seat before setting a small object on the nightstand. It looked like a round remote with a few buttons.
"If you need anything, press the blue button and a nurse will come soon."
"Gotcha."
The doctor nodded and walked towards the door. As he opened it, the doctor came face to face with none other than the Headmaster of Beacon academy and his academy's top combat instructor. The pale-haired man in green had this annoyed frown on his face, indicative of another dressing down by the Vale council.
"Doctor." The headmaster greeted neutrally. "How is my student?"
The doctor didn't miss a beat.
"Not much different from last time, except that he's awake now."
"Good. May we speak with him?"
The doctor stepped aside.
"By all means. Just try not to make him move too much. His nerves are... Sensitive."
The academic pair entered the room as the doctor left it. Glynda immediately marched ahead of her boss to join the bedridden man. She looked with glazed eyes over his damaged body. He was wrapped up like a mummy but at least she could still see his face and eyes. He looked... Frail, fragile even. Hope, usually so strong and willful, looked like he was about to physically fall apart. A smile from her friend caught her off guard.
"Sup, Glynny." He greeted casually. "Job not too bad without me?"
She felt her heart easing at the sound of his voice. He was hurt, but he was alive. He was alive... Thank the gods. Glynda repressed the tears of gladness that threatened to blur her vision.
"It's gotten a bit lonely if I'm honest." She admitted hoarsely, coughing after the fact to clear her throat and try to seem less bothered than she actually was.
She sat down by his side, gently holding onto his upper wrist. This gentle action, however, felt physically uncomfortable for the broken Hope. He did his best to ignore the sore sensation irritating him but luckily for Hope, something much more irritating came to take his mind off.
"Oz." Hope greeted emotionlessly. "I'm guessing you're not here for no reason."
"Indeed." Oz took off his glasses to polish the lens. "I am saddened to inform you that due to your new condition, I am forced to release you from our school."
Hope didn't react save for a slight nod of his head.
"I have to say, mister Hope," Ozpin said as he put his glasses back on. "Your original wish seems to have come to fruition, if in quite a violently roundabout way."
Glynda's death glare didn't faze the Infinity Man in the least, and neither did Hope's contemptuous faux laugh. Hope grunted painfully afterward.
Goddamnit, I can't even fake laugh to prove a point!
"Real funny, asshole." Hope retorted angrily. "Anything else?"
"Although I am obligated by law to release you as well as give you recompense, I still believe that you can be of use to us... To Remnant."
Ozpin held out his hand. The look in his eyes gave Hope the impression that the old wizard was under no illusions that he would accept. The first time, Hope was backed into a wall with none of the knowledge necessary to get out. Now? Hope knew better and had an excuse. The displaced seer contemplated what to do now. Now was his chance to finally blow Ozpin off for good and get him the hell out of his life.
His thought process froze, recognizing a familiar chill freezing his neck. His rage at Ozpin's impotence slowly cooled as the situation came back into focus. He's worked in spite of him almost since the beginning. But then again, Ozpin is unable to do a thing... Hope sighed.
No... Not now, not while there's still work to be done.
Hope gripped Ozpin's hand weakly, earning a shocked look from both The wizard and his secretary. He maintained a willful, furious look as he stared Oz in the eyes.
"Hear me well, you daft cunt." He spat with a hateful glare. "I'm doing this for Remnant, not you."
Hope let go first, leaning back into his bed. He looked out of the window near his bed, spotting a familiar raven looking at his window.
"Never forget that despite your blatant fucking incompetence, I've chosen to remain your ally."
Ozpin blinked incredulously.
"... I see." He managed to say.
Glynda's surprise turned to quiet glee. Hope was still with them despite everything. She smiled at her friend.
"Thank you."
"No need." His angry frown turned dour. "My work is not done yet."
Oz let a smirk slip. His work, huh? Glynda let go of Hope's wrist, adjusting her seat.
"How are you feeling?" She asked. "And please be honest."
Hope spluttered.
"Getting up to take a piss is a fucking hero's journey in itself." He joked. "Falling out of bed hurts more than jumping off a building and landing on a news van."
Glynda cringed.
"Sounds like it's not easy being you right now."
"Pfha! That's an understatement!"
Glynda lifted his hand, holding it against her forehead. Her air was devoid of the usual strength she emanated.
"Thank the gods you're alive..." She muttered.
Hope wanted to tell her that the gods have nothing to do with his survival. He wanted to bite back and tell her that the gods aren't worth her attention. But one look at her face so full of gladness and he chose that this once, he would bite his tongue.
"Still," Glynda breathed out. "A year without your help is going to be tough."
Hope's expression soured.
"I don't have a fucking year to waste while Cinder is still out and about."
Ozpin, intrigued by the comment, joined his coworker's side.
"You don't? Although it has cost us much, I believe that the worst has come to past."
Hope shook his head.
"Not one fucking bit, wiz."
"What do you mean?"
"The breach was one step of their plan, not the goal itself."
Glynda grimaced incredulously.
"What?! So you're telling me we aren't out of the woods yet?! Even after all of these deaths and injuries? This, this massacre?!"
"Hardly," Hope confirmed grimly. "The only way out of these woods seems to burn it all the fuck down."
Glynda scowled in worry.
"You're in no state to burn anything down, Anon. Please be reasonable."
"Being reasonable is not in my skillset." Hope shot down. "And even if it was, I don't have the time. There's too much that still needs to be done..."
Glynda held his hand and made him look into her eyes. She looked like she needed to hear some good news for once.
"What more can we do?"
Hope broke eye contact, looking down thoughtfully.
"They planned on launching the train during VytalFest. If Cinder is as smart as I think she actually is, it would have probably gone off either under the fair's grounds or the town centre. But that train left the station, pardon the pun."
He held his free hand to his chin.
"Ironwood carted away his defective machines, so that part of the plan's ruined."
"So all they have left is the Fang?" Glynda asked, hopeful.
"Yes and no. I'm almost certain that they have a back door into the Vale systems."
Ozpin ground his teeth.
"The Cross-Continental Transmit Tower..."
"Yes. It's certain that it accompanied the Atlas System's virus." Hope's hand balled into a shaking fist. "It was probably some sort of delayed virus masqued up as some benign file set. Should have guessed as much..."
Glynda caressed his hand. The motion calmed him down somewhat, but the pain remained. Ozpin shook his head.
"We won't have enough time to rectify the fault in our systems in time for the festival."
"No, we don't. I suspect that they'll start by committing an atrocity during the tournament, then the White Fang will go on the offensive and start blowing shit up. And when the carnage is at its peak, the automated turrets and the forcefields will go down next."
"And the surge of negative energy will cause the Grimms to come running..."
"All during the day meant to celebrate international unity and the end of conflict."
Ozpin shook his head impotently.
"Can they be stopped?" He asked.
"With how we're set up? It's gonna be rough." Hope answered. "A lot of people are still going to die."
Glynda slouched in her chair, hiding her eyes with her free hand. A sombre silence glided over the room as the weight of the future hit them all at once. A tonal drone pierced the silence like a morning alarm. The oldest soul in the room took his scroll out of his pocket and sneered.
"Wonderful. Just what I wanted." He complained. "I'll be taking my leave. It seems the council isn't done with making my day worse."
The wizard left the room with an angry stomp to his step. Glynda sighed, her breath strained and uneasy.
"When will this nightmare end..."
Hope looked down at her hand, she hadn't let go all this time.
"Dunno." He breathed out.
"Do we even stand a chance?" She thought out loud pessimistically. "James' at the helm now but..."
Hope cocked a brow.
"You're worried about Ironwood?"
"I don't know." She admitted, taking her hand out of her face and revealing her worry. "I used to trust in Ozpin but after all of the warning signs you've pointed out going ignored... I'm just not sure I trust him being in charge anymore. As for James... He's too gung-ho, too loud and unsubtle."
Her grip around Hope's wrist tightened. Hope winced as the pressure became painful but managed to hide it in time to meet Glynda's desperate gaze.
"But I know I can trust you. So... Who... Who do I follow? What can we do?"
Hope blinked slowly as he looked into her eyes. He recognized the desperation in her eyes, the need for meaningful answers. To be reassured that there is some hidden light to guide them through the shadow of dark times. He sighed sadly, aware that he doesn't have the answers she wants.
"Who you can trust... I don't know." He admitted. "Ironwood's too narrow-minded, too stuck in his ways and push comes to shove, he'll try to restore order no matter the cost. But I can guarantee you that trusting Ozpin is in no way better. Too many secrets he's held back, too many times his plans have fumbled and too many times he's ignored what was right in front of him."
"But why?!" She demanded to know. "Why does he keep secrets?! Why does he ignore your warnings?!"
"Because he's afraid to face the truth."
Glynda blinked, squinting in disbelief.
"What truth?"
"That he failed," Hope revealed.
Hope broke eye contact and stared out the window. The window led to a peaceful park where children and teens in various states of health played.
"He doesn't trust anyone because he's been betrayed too many times, so he keeps everyone in the dark for fear of betrayal. He doesn't listen to me because he's too deep in his delusion that he's in control and I keep taking him out of it."
The children laughed as they played. Hope's expression soured, knowing that their mirth will soon turn into sorrow and fear far too soon.
"He's afraid to face his failures. He can't reveal his secrets, he can't admit fault and admit that I was right because if he does... he'll be faced with the fact that the eons he's suffered have been for nothing and he's the only person who can take the blame. And he will break."
Hope paused. In that lone instance, he pitied Ozpin. He was told to hold the world on his shoulders and when it inevitably crushed him, he tried his best to pretend that his spine wasn't bent like a pretzel. Anon shook his head.
"As for what we can do... I think the best thing to do is to mitigate the damage done by the incoming attack."
"How can we?" She asked weakly. "I doubt that the Vale council will let us do anything without evidence. Same for the Vale Huntsman Association."
"With Ironwood in charge, we could ask for military aid but that's asking for trouble in the long term. Foreign soldiers walking around and getting comfy like it was their turf... That and with Atlas' history, it might look like they're trying to occupy the place under security pretense..."
Glynda ground her teeth stressfully.
"I don't think we have a choice."
"Then we'll make do with what we do have."
Glynda slouched further down in her seat, letting out a deep groan.
"This is going to suck," she complained rightfully.
"Yeh..." Hope hoarsely let out.
Glynda took a deep breath before sitting back properly.
"I'll warn Ironwood and I'll try to get the VHA and the VCPD to be on guard and ready to help for another potential 'Breach' scenario."
"That would help a lot, actually," Hope praised. "Good thinking."
She tried to smile but looked far too bothered to make it look sincere.
"Thanks, but I have to. Seeing as I have a loaded shotgun pointed at me, ready to fire at any moment!"
Hope waved his arm dismissively.
"Bah! You have an Aura! You'll be fine!"
Glynda strained out a chuckle.
"Real funny..."
Hope leaned up to move some of her golden locks out of her face.
"Don't let the despair crush you, Glyn. Even if we don't have much time, We'll have to make use of every bit."
"Yeah." She said unenthused. "You're right."
She took off her glasses and spluttered.
"I really could go for a drink..."
Hope held his chin, his smile growing along an idea. He hummed pleasantly.
"Not a bad shout. Say Glynda?"
She hummed questioningly. Hope smiled kindly.
"You free next weekend?"
Fresh air. Intoxicating, like a fine spirit. And like spirits, Hope drank it in with pleasure and bliss. It felt nice to finally be out and about. Sure, he was bound to a wheelchair with more medical gear than an ambulance but he was counting his blessings. It had taken a lot to persuade his assigned nurse and his doctor to let him go out but again, Hope counted his blessings. And right now, he felt really fucking blessed. Glynda pushed his wheelchair through a nice park path. He inhaled deeply, grateful to finally not have to endure that fucking hospital smell.
"Ah~" He exhaled jubilantly. "The smell of freedom!"
Glynda stifled a giggle.
"Just for today."
"I don't give a flying fuck! I'm free now, and I'll fucking savour it now!"
"You do you, Hope." She dismissed amusedly.
The path ended into a sidewalk leading to the streets of Vale. Just down the park, was Hope's bar of choice: The Crow Bar. Glynda's irreverent smile shrunk.
"Are you sure?" She asked worriedly. "You don't have to buy me a drink just now."
"And I personally enjoy killing two birds with one stone."
His own mirth soured into a pleading grimace.
"Please, just let me have this."
Glynda sighed lightly.
"Fine." She acquiesced. "But promise me you won't drink."
"Glynda, I'm reckless, not stupid."
Glynda stood firm.
"Ugh. Fine, I promise." He began muttering under his breath. "Killjoy."
Glynda tended an ear.
"What was that?"
"I said that you bring me great joy!"
She smirked.
"That's what I thought."
...
Although he would say that the Crow Bar was his spot of choice, it didn't mean much considering that it's the only bar Anon went to since coming to Remnant. It wasn't hard to see why he didn't bother going elsewhere. A hole in the wall though not small by any means, if anything it was way bigger than the show let on. The main entrance was a simple sliding gate left wide open during opening hours. The main area was similar to the show but amplified. What was a sparse dive bar was now a full-on sports bar, with a ton of paraphernalia mounted on the walls. A typical sports bar would probably be themed around a typical sport like football, what Americans call football, hockey...
This bar, however, was covered wall to wall with combat sports gear. Specifically, gladiatorial combat.
Anon recognized a few of the replica weapons on display, most notable of which being Pyrrha's Milo and Akouo. Portraits and signed photographs of famous gladiators were framed on the walls, including, again, Pyrrha's autograph. The amount of legitimate memorabilia was something to be admired, the cost of certain items alone would need a fortune to acquire. It also helped that the owner and barman was a man of dedication and taste, not bothering with who's popular and trendy and more about their skill and record. As a result, most of the items are older and from a time when marketability, attitude and personality were supplanted by pure talent and skill.
The barman busied himself polishing glasses, the bar empty save for the new arrivals. He was a man of average height and fairly well built, his short and bright chestnut-coloured hair accompanied a ravishing moustache. He wore a fancy server-styled shirt and slacks with a waistcoat, his green bowtie matching his emerald eyes. It didn't fit the aesthetic of the bar itself but if he wanted to dress up, it was his choice.
The barman glanced over at them, not registering the wheelchair-bound man immediately.
"Welcome to the Crow Bar!" He greeted jovially. "Apologies for the lack of company, but you know how-"
The man cut himself off at the sight of Hope, a spark of recognition hitting him like a freight train.
"H-Hope?!" He bumbled bafflingly.
Hope smiled and waved.
"Yo."
"What are you doing here?! By the gods, you look awful!"
He shrugged.
"I needed to get out of the hospital and I owed this fine lady here a drink," Hope said like it explained everything.
The barman leaned forward, staring at the broken Hope with shock.
"How are you alive?" he asked. "The way I heard it, you died fighting a horde of Grimms."
Hope chuckled painfully.
"Don't be so quick to bury me, I'm tougher than my lack of Aura would lead you to believe."
"I can see that, with my own two eyes!"
He waved the pair to come in and to make themselves at home. Glynda pushed Anon so that he sat next to the counter before setting herself next to him on a stool. The barman immediately gave the pair a complimentary glass of ice water. Hope nodded in thanks as Glynda did verbally.
"If you don't mind me askin'," Hope said curiously. "What have you heard about me exactly? I'm kinda curious"
The barman set the pitcher down, absentmindedly cleaning the counter as he talked.
"A lot. A whole damn lot." he explained. "Anon Hope, Beacon Huntsman and cigar connoisseur extraordinaire, has been huntin' down Roman Torchwick, Criminal Mastermind and fellow cigar smoker."
Hope nodded approvingly, although he would dispute the connoisseur part and the huntsman part. The barman continued.
"Rumours say that you've been huntin' him down ever since he almost killed you and your girlfriend during a sting operation at the docks."
"For the records, she's not my girlfriend."
The barman shrugged.
"People are gonna talk, can't do anythin' about it."
"Clearly..."
"Otherwise, people have been wonderin' what you've been up to. Then the skirmish on Highway 17 showed that you were on a warpath against the Fang and Torchwick."
I mean... They aren't wrong.
"And when the Breach happened, people saw you rush out of the damned hole like a man on a mission to rescue the children of the VCPD Chief of Police."
Hope was gonna snort but paused at the last part.
"Come again?" He asked suddenly.
The barman looked confused.
"Did... Did I say something weird?"
"Nonono, Just... What was that last part again?"
His look of shock and confusion only furthered the barman's own bewilderment.
"Wait, you didn't know?"
"Fuck no!" Hope exclaimed. "I just rushed in, I didn't stop to wonder whose fucking kids they were!"
Hope leaned back in his wheelchair, a befuddled look on his face. He laughed quietly to himself in disbelief.
This... This makes things WAY fucking easier!
He smiled widely, content that things seems to be going his way. As soon as Glynda heard of who Hope actually saved, she understood his sudden mirth. She joined his smile, looking at him knowingly.
The barman had no clue as to what was happening but if his clients are happy, then he won't get in the way.
A smiling Anon knocked on the counter with a small chuckle.
"Even more cause for celebration! Drinks are on me."
The barman nodded and stopped polishing his glassware, listening for his patron's order.
"Like last time?" The barman asked.
"Nah, I'll have a Whiteout."
Glynda's harsh sideways glance hardly put a damper on his mood but even still, he made a promise.
"Non-alcoholic..." he sighed out.
The barman nodded as he began fetching the necessary bottles.
"One cold-brew latte with sweet cream, coming up in a sec." He glanced to Hope's companion. "And the Lady'll have?"
Glynda stretched with an uncertain hum.
"I think I'll have... A Downcast Sour."
The barman looked at his womanly patron with a funny glance.
"You sure?" He questioned.
Glynda shrugged noncommittally as she took off her glasses. The barman acquiesced, still with a funny look in his eyes, before starting on the drinks. Hope looked to his now ex-teacher questioningly.
"The fuck's a Downcast?"
The barman was the one to answer.
"It's for people who hate themselves."
He called Hope blinked.
"Isn't that true of basically any cocktail that's high in alcohol content?"
"This is different, it's basically just grain alcohol with a minuscule amount of syrup and lime juice."
Hope's eyes narrowed.
"Wait, grain alcohol? Like the stuff that's about 95% ABV?"
"Like I said, it's for people who hate themselves." The barman reiterated.
Hope knew that Glynda could drink hard but even he didn't expect her to go for Everclear straight away. He shrugged, knowing damned well that he isn't in a position to question someone's life choices.
...
The pair enjoyed their drinks as the bar slowly filled up. Despite the atmosphere's growing liveliness, the pair stuck to themselves. They had moved from the counter to an isolated table, Hope didn't know why but Glynda had insisted. He looked on as people huddled around the holo-screen, cheering, jeering and hollering as their favoured warrior fought in the fields of honourable combat.
Glynda sipped on her drink from the Remnish equivalent of a martini glass. She looked fine despite it being her second drink of the night. Hope joined in the sipping, the refreshingly cold coffee wasn't cloyingly sweet funnily enough. Glynda inspected her friend's battered form, a question burning at her soft lips.
"...Why..." She mumbled.
Hope tended an ear as he kept watching the crowd's reaction to the match.
"Yar?"
"Why did you throw yourself into danger like you did?"
He took a long sip of his drink.
"Isn't it what's expected of Huntsmen?"
"Yes, but you're also not built to do what you did. So why?"
Hope glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She looked sober still, so maybe the alcohol is just loosening her lips.
She's probably been thinking this since she first saw my state.
He sighed.
"I don't know."
Glynda blinked impassively.
"So you just threw yourself into a woodchipper just because?" She asked neutrally.
Hope shrugged, still looking at the cheering crowd.
"A simple automatism, the fact that she's a looker..." Hope enumerated before looking at Glynda. "Who knows why I really did it."
"No, it wasn't any of those," Glynda answered immediately.
Hope finally stopped looking at the crowd just as they started booing at the screen.
"Oh? How can you be so sure?"
"I just am."
"You sure it's not the alcohol speaking?" Hope dismissed.
Glynda looked directly into his eyes, almost daring him to tell her she was wrong. Hope maintained her gaze before looking away.
"I know you aren't so shallow as to save someone for their looks." Glynda declared.
"You know how I am when a cute girl needs help."
"Yes, I also know that's not the real reason you help others."
Hope looked into his glass, his face reflecting murkily in the rich brown liquid. He stayed quiet as he stared at his reflection.
"Then what is the reason? the goodness of my heart?"
"Absolutely."
Her immediate answer made him chuckle.
"Hardly." He said sadly. "I'm not a good person."
Glynda blinked before frowning furiously.
"Bullshit!" she exclaimed.
He shook his head.
"I'm not driven by a desire to do good for its own sake."
Glynda looked confused.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"I think it would be easier if I explained how I view things. A good person does good deeds for goodness' sake, nothing more. A normal person can do good but often with the expectation of a reward, be it as simple as praise or something more material like cash or something more nebulous like a favour. I don't do good for its own sake nor I don't expect to be rewarded for the work I put in. Ergo; I'm not a good person."
Glynda grimaced in confusion. What a strange way to measure a person's goodness.
"Then why do you do good?" She asked, morbidly curious.
Hope's expression deadened, turning into an unknown, sombre look.
"Because I have to, or else the guilt would freeze my heart solid."
Glynda paused at the answer, not so much shocked as confused. Guilt? Guilt for what?
"What guilt?"
Hope looked down, avoiding her eyes. He really could use a cigar right now but if he can't have alcohol, he sure as shit can't have tobacco. He ground his teeth behind his closed lips.
"Our present is the result of our past choices." He said. "And I've made a lot of bad choices."
Glynda fiddled in her seat uncomfortably, knowing that she just stepped in it.
"Sorry, I-I... I shouldn't have brought it up." She apologized.
"Don't." He said with a shake of his head. "If you're curious, then I don't mind answerin'. We've known each other long enough. Besides, it's only fair that I tell you about myself, considering all I know about you."
Glynda didn't know what to do next. On one hand, it wasn't her place to ask about his private life. But this man she had grown to think of as her friend was also such an unknown still... What to do, what to do...
"I... I suppose," she said hesitantly, her curiosity winning out in the end.
Hope nodded slowly before finishing his drink. He brought his hands together and regaled his friend with his sordid, woeful tale.
"My life before Beacon... hasn't been an easy one." He explained, his tone devoid of emotions. "Although I'd argue that a not-insignificant chunk of it can be easily relegated to the cosmos taking the piss, I'm in no ways blameless for my misfortunes."
He scoffed bitterly at his own words.
"And even then, the two have a way of intermingling to make things even worse."
Glynda hesitated to ask, knowing that he'll probably give a really depressing answer.
"Like... How?"
He stared vacantly at the slowly melting ice in his glass.
"At the end of my first year of high school, I found out that my first girlfriend had cheated on me. Multiple times, with multiple people."
Glynda cringed.
"Oh."
His vacant look turned sullen and miserable.
"That's not the worst. The worst came right after..."
He inhaled shakily before continuing.
"My best friend... She..." he sighed, unable to properly convey what he wanted to say. "I'll be blunt, she had issues. A whole truck ton of them."
He looked at his bandaged hands, his stare unfocused.
"She was always needed help. She always needed someone to hold her hands and help her through her troubles. As a result, she always felt like a burden, like she was dead weight. It wasn't unusual for her to call me and ask me if she was being a bother. and it was neither unusual for me to find her in the middle of an emotional breakdown."
He blinked as he flexed his hands. He remembered every time where he would hold her in his arms until she calmed down, sometimes for hours on end. He remembered when she would ask him if she was annoying or getting in the way of his romantic life.
He remembered every time he would tell her that she was his precious best friend and that she would never be a burden.
"I was her only real friend. I was the one she would ask for help. I was the one she would come to when she need someone."
His expression became lifeless in how sullen it was.
"And when she needed me the most... I shirked her."
He remembered when she came into the classroom, holding herself while shaking like a leaf, just as he had learned the truth about his then-girlfriend. He remembered when she quietly squeaked out his name, clearly in the middle of a panic attack. He remembered when he screamed at her, asking her what the fuck she wanted. He remembered the panic and fear in her eyes, how the words were stuck in her throat. He remembered when he told her to fuck off if she had nothing to say. He remembered her tears falling to the floor and the look of devastation on her face as she backed out of the classroom.
"I blew her off when she needed me the most. Because I was so fucking pissed at my ex. I wanted to burn the world down. I wanted to be alone."
He chuckled humourlessly. He remembered when his head cleared the next day. He remembered when he went to the store to get her favourite candy, a simple offering meant to affirm his apology. He remembered as he knocked on her door, only to be greeted with chilling silence.
"Little did I know..."
He felt a familiar cold wind wash over his body. It wasn't unpleasant, but it reeked of graveyard rot. He remembered unlocking the door with the key located under the welcome mat. He remembered when he went into her room and saw her. His shoulders slumped as the light drained from his eyes.
"I would be."
He remembered her body's pallid complexion, the blood that dripped down her chapped lips. The empty look in her dead eyes and the dried river of tears that stained her cheeks. He remembered the smell of her flowery perfume mixed with blood. He remembered his rage dying and the sinkhole that formed in his chest. He remembers as he quietly cradled her corpse, quietly repeating her name over and over. He remembered as he cried for days on end as he locked himself in his room.
He remembered that at that moment when he realized that he was at fault and his hatred for the world became his hatred for himself.
He snapped out of his mind when he felt a hand cradle his head and something soft press against his chest. Glynda had practically leapt off her seat to embrace him. He felt her grip tighten. It hurt but... He didn't want her to let go. He hugged her back silently as the light slowly came back into his eyes. A gentle smile came upon his lips as he and Glynda separated. She still moved her seat to be right next to him. The kind look of worry and empathy she gave him warmed his heart.
"But, I'm not alone anymore. Now am I?"
"No," Glynda affirmed, putting her hand over his. "You're not."
Despite these hopeful words, his heart remained sunken.
"Every fucking day that passes, I still feel the freezing cold guilt nip at my heart like frostbite. And the only way to keep warm..."
"Is to do good." Glynda completed the sentence.
Hope nodded.
"I've done pretty much anything you could think of." He began rambling. "I've done charity work, worked at a soup kitchen. Fuck, I even went to Mexico to help build houses and took on my ancestral faith."
Glynda cocked a brow silently as she kept listening to him. Mexico? Where's that? He stared at the ceiling, slouching in his wheelchair.
"I've tried all I could to repent. And yet my luck kept getting worse and worse... My romantic endeavours kept falling and I kept underperforming at my many, MANY jobs. And then..."
He clenched his eyes shut, the memories of his mother's failing body still raw in his mind.
"She died too. I lost my best friend, then my mom."
His fists clenched, his knuckles turning white and his nails digging into his palms.
"Then my own brother tried to do something unspeakable to my sister, then tried to kill me only to fail like the fuck up he always was."
Glynda unconsciously gripped the table, the wood creaked under the pressure. Her other hand brought Hope closer to her. He sighed tiredly.
"It was all so much all too quickly."
"I understand..." Glynda tried to reassure, only for her words to ring hollow.
God, I hope you never do.
"My heart kept breaking over and over again. I've..." His voice broke. "I've tried to repent, so, so hard..."
His gaze drifted outside, the soft dimming light turned grey and stormy as his mind relived the past.
"Goddamnit!" He once screamed atop his house of worship's roof. "Why?! I've done everything correctly! I've worked so hard and I've helped so many!"
The shattered Hope fell to his knees, gasping in pain as he clutched his wounded side. Tears fell down his eyes as he stared up to the heavens.
"WHY AM I STILL SUFFERING?!" He yelled to the grey skies, begging for answers. "WHY DOES IT... It... Why does it still hurt..."
He let go of his wound, his throat tightening with sadness and woe.
"God! I've given my all." his words hitched with a sob. "I truly... I... I really did my best..."
His tears kept flowing as the sob turned to full-on crying. Rage joined grief as he let out a bellow of wrath.
"Why did You take them from me, my friend and my mother!? Why did You give me such a cunt brother!? Why did my sister desert me?!"
He was met with silence, a silence that he met with a wind-shaking demand.
"ANSWER ME!"
The clouds parted as the heavens split open. A golden light showered the City of Sin like rain. Hope remained kneeling, shocked in silence as he made out a being coming from the split in the skies. It shone like the core of a star, its light was blinding yet enthralling. The being of starlight descended from the skies until it stood atop the tallest point of the tallest building of the city. Hope fell further down into a kowtow.
He of many names, Adonai, El, Elohim, Allah, YHWH, Jehova. The heavenly father, the Creator, had descended from His celestial throne.
His lips parted and from them...
His final judgement.
"You are all unworthy. You were all mistakes. You have all betrayed My vision. You have failed My design, My plan for your greatness. I wash My hands of thee, I wash My hands of Humanity."
Hope paused with a blink, slowly rising to his knees as he processed what he just heard. The light was scornful and harsh. He looked upon his God, looking for any hesitation, any insincerities.
Hope came up with naught but bitterness and disdain in his Creator's words.
The light that remained in his eyes died, as his heart broke for the last time. He blinked as the light receded back into the breached skies as a changed man. One with neither hope nor faith.
Only guilt and emptiness.
He blinked again, dispelling his vision of the past. He looked back to his companion, her eyes so full of worry and kind consideration looking back at him empathetically.
"I've tried to repent so many times, I've tried so hard..." He said hoarsely. "Only for my God Himself to confirm to me that me and my kind are unworthy, that we have failed Him."
Glynda's already deep concern furthered. Was he raised up in a cult?
"Hope-" She tried to comfort him again, only for him to gently push her away.
"I've failed everyone. I failed my best friend, my mom, my sister... And then my God."
He stared at his glass as the ice fully melted.
"Torment is the only thing I'll get once I'm dead and gone," he admitted with certainty. "The best I can do is walk into Gehenna, knowing that I've at least made some people's life better. Even if it was for a small moment in the grand scheme of things."
Glynda stared gobsmacked. He talked with such assurance as if he knew that his fate was set in stone. Fitting, considering his foresight but still. She looked in distraught anger.
"Is there no redemption in your faith?!" She asked indignantly. "How can someone who tries their best and do good still not be given their just reward?!"
Hope shook his head.
"There is. But faith and truth often aren't synonymous. My sins simply outweigh the result of my efforts."
"Then what's the point?" Glynda asked, exasperated. "What's the point of trying if you're not going to be redeemed?"
Hope held his hands to the sides with closed eyes.
"It fills the void." He said simply. "Even if Limbo's Bliss is out of my reach, even if the Azrael's Eternal Rest is forever denied to me; I'll keep doing good. Because it fills the void in my heart."
He joined his hands back together.
"It's either that or cruelty. And to do cruelty unto other without just cause only rots the soul." He began muttering. "And messiah knows how rotten I already am..."
Glynda's expression softened.
"But you're not." She challenged. "I know enough about you to know you're not. The Hope I know is a good man. You are a good man."
A sad smile crossed the seer's mouth.
"Thank you for your kind words, Glyn. But I'm hardly the man you think me of being."
He took his glass and drank the melted ice to wet his throat.
"It's not just emptiness that drove me then."
His mind returned to when Weiss fought the Boarbatusk in Port's class and then to When he shot Torchwick at point-blank range on Highway 17. That feeling of pure spite and resentment that drove him to interfere, to bring pain or humiliation on those that pissed him off. That dark drive that made him act in such a stupidly destructive way. He remembered the chat he had with Port after The Badge and the Burden.
"This spark of righteous indignation followed by decisive actions, ultimately leading to the death of the dark beast! You remind me of a certain person I once knew."
Righteousness, the word alone made him sick. Not because the concept itself was repulsive, but because it was applied to Hope.
"Deep down." He said thoughtlessly. "I'm full of anger and resentment. I hated everything. My peers, my job, my home... Myself. Everything, everyone, just pissed me off and made me want to smash them to pulp with a sledgehammer."
His body loosened, his head lulling upward. His lightless eyes were lost in a dark haze.
"Even now... There's so much hate I still feel. I hate my place in this world, I hate this war I'm straddled with, I hate the monsters that haunt it and the people who would see it all burn, I hate how broken this fucking world truly is. I..."
I hate it all so much... Everything is all just so... Bothersome.
Glynda looked down, her expression saddened.
"Do you hate us?" She thought aloud.
There was a pause. Hope blinked, his eyes cleared of the lightless haze that clouded his mind.
"If you're talking about the Circle... Then no, I just hate Ozpin. If you're talking about the people around me..."
He levelled his stare with hers. The dark thoughts were gone and her question simmered in his head. His answer was clear and blunt like a warhammer.
"I'd never hate people I've grown to cherish so dearly."
He punctuated his admission with a wholesome smile and a caring look. Glynda blinked several times, slowly digesting what he just said. Her face slowly flushed a deep pink as she began bumbling.
"W-w-well I-I mean... Uhm..."
Sounds escaped her throat unintentionally as her mouth opened and closed. Steam escaped her ears as she quietly gave her answer.
"I... I chewish you too, Hope..."
She shut right up when she realized her slip-up. Hope blinked before trying very hard not to smile like an idiot.
"So you 'chewish' me too, huh?" he teased with a surly chuckle.
He leaned on the table, posing with his joined hands supporting his head.
"I'm so glad to hear that." he smiled kindly. "Dearest Glynda."
Glynda immediately grabbed her glass and downed it, almost choking on it in the process.
"BARTENDER! BRING ME ANOTHER ONE!" she ordered. "QUICKLY!"
Hope couldn't help but laugh. As soon as Glynda had her new drink, she did the same thing to it as she did to its predecessor.
"ANOTHER!"
Hope's smile remained as Glynda did her best to drown her embarrassment. Despite his cruel enjoyment of her behaviour, he glanced worriedly at his wallet.
"I wonder how much this is gonna cost me..."
The satisfying relief that Hope felt was hardly deterred by the pain he was feeling at the current moment. It took a lot of drinks and it cost him a pretty penny, but at last, Glynda was a drunken mess.
Hopefully, she'll forget everything we've talked about.
The pain he felt was due in part to the fact that Anon, not thinking ahead, had to be the one who carted his drunken friend out of the bar. Well, carted...
He was giving her a ride on his lap.
The pain came from her weight putting a toll on his ever-so-sore body. Considering Glynda's figure, this shouldn't be an issue but she was sitting at an angle and clinging to him in a way that put uneven pressure on his poor lap. Her breath smelled of sweet fruit syrup but also reeked of alcohol. Her upper half swayed slightly as her arms held his neck, holding him closely. She let out a cute groan.
"Why's it so dark all of a sudden?" She asked, her voice in a much higher pitch than her usual mature baritones.
"That's because we left the bar, Glynda." He answered with an amused smile.
"So it's night? How? It was day not long ago..."
"We started in the afternoon, Glyn. Of course it's gonna get dark sooner."
Glynda whined.
"It's too dark... I can't see anything..."
She snuggled closer to Hope, widening his smile and tinging it with smugness.
"Don't like the dark?" He teased.
"I hate it..." She muttered. "There are so many bad things hiding in the dark..."
Hope hummed, not having thought of that.
"Fair enough."
Glynda swung her feet up and down as Hope kept rolling down the sidewalk. her hand moved from his neck to the back of his head. She unfurled some of the bandages and began gently rubbing his hair.
"Your hair is very soft." She noted.
"Thank you."
"Is it natural? Or do you use grooming products?"
"Former."
"...Lucky..." She mumbled jealously.
She continued petting his hair gently, running her fingers through his short, soft mane. She giggled quietly.
"Good boy..."
That one actually made Hope blush.
"Please no."
"Good boy!" She reaffirmed before cuddling his head. "Good handsome boy Anon!"
Hope tried to be stoic when faced with Glynda's assets but it became difficult considering that said assets were depriving him of much-needed oxygen. He wrenched her enough away to be able to breathe again.
"As much of a fun time as I'm having, I'd prefer it if you could give me some space!"
"But you're a good boy!" She insisted.
Glynda began rocking giddily in her seat as she kept praising Hope for being kind and attractive. Passers-by looked on in amused confusion. Is that bandaged-up paraplegic mummy really that hot under there? Despite Glynda's overbearing mirth, Hope tried his damndest to keep her from falling off.
"Goddamnit, woman! Be careful or you'll fall!"
"Good boy!" she chortled.
Hope sighed angrily.
"Just keep your phat ass parked on my lap until I can roll you home."
"Hey! My ass is not fat!"
"Darling, the only ones who can compare are Velvet and Blake and you still got them beat!"
"It's not! Here, let me prove it!"
She swayed drunkenly as she flung herself off of him. Once she landed on her own two feet, she found out quite quickly that standing was a challenge. She slowly turned about and bent over, showing off her bottom.
"See?!" She said. "Not fat!"
Her pencil skirt matched her curves at every angle, the fabric stretched to the point that it was almost skintight. He could easily make out the silhouette of her underwear through the cloth. This only proved Hope's assertion.
"Sure it isn't," he said sarcastically.
Glynda harumphed, a pink pout on her face.
"You don't believe me, don't you!?"
"Now where did you get that from?"
She humphed and straightened out suddenly. She swayed back, stumbling and almost fell. Instead of falling to the ground, she fell right back into Hope's lap. He held back a pained yell as she crashed into her seat. He groaned angrily as he held her by the waist.
"Glad to have you back!" He muttered. "Now be a sweety and keep your phat ass planted the fuck on my lap while I take you home."
She whined like an upset child as she adjusted herself on his lap.
"Just hang on to me and enjoy the ride," Hope told her.
Glynda clung to him as he asked, hugging him closely.
"My ass is not fat..." she reiterated.
Glynda's head lulled to the side over his shoulder, a string of spit dripping from her mouth sloppily. Hope gently brought her head closer so his shoulder could support her weight. Despite outside appearances, her apartment complex was nothing special. It was just a big building with a fancy exterior and lobby with more typical interiors. After shuffling with her scroll and unlocking it with her fingerprint, he found out that her apartment was on the third floor. At that moment, he thanked whoever invented elevators in Remnant for his gift. He rolled to her door and unlocked it using Glynda's scroll. The door opened to reveal a modest but tastefully decorated shoebox of a home with one cramped bedroom, a cramped bathroom and one normal-sized room that somehow serves as both a kitchen and a living room.
"Excuse me." He politely announced, taking off his shoes.
He quickly realized that navigating her home was going to be an ordeal due to how cramped it was, having already bumped into the furniture with his wheels and almost got stuck twice.
And he only got into the apartment for exactly five minutes.
She's got to have the dough needed to buy a bigger flat, she has to! SO WHY IN THE MESSIAH'S NAME DID SHE CHOOSES THIS FUCKING ANT HOUSE?!
He groaned as he realized that he has no other choice than to get off his crippled ass and drag her to one of the only two other rooms. He rolled to her couch, which was a fuzzy and soft loveseat drowned in a pile of pillows squeezed against a coffee table which itself was right against the wall-mounted TV. He laid her down gently, making sure to not wake her from her drunken slumber. He sighed deeply before gripping the handles of his wheelchair, bracing himself for what was to come. He lifted his legs, removing them from their support and lifted himself from his mobile seat. Hope gasped silently, shocked at how painful just trying to stand up was. He grimaced and forced through the sudden pain, his sore, damaged body strained under its own weight. He felt as if gravity had enhanced, threatening to crush him into the ground.
"Son of a bitch..." He muttered under his breath.
He growled as he picked Glynda back up, her weight only exacerbating his predicament.
Lose some fuckin' weight!
Despite his crude thoughts, he was more than aware that it was probably just him being weak.
Probably...
His legs immediately began trembling as the soreness turned to violent pain. With teeth clenched firmly, he walked (or more aptly, limped) to the first door he saw. Luckily, it was the door to her bedroom.
Hope stood in front of Glynda's room, feeling an odd sense of dread. He gave Glynda's unconscious frame a quick glance. The Glynda in his arms was so different from Canon Glynda that he wasn't sure what to expect of her bedroom. Maybe it was neat and tidy with a few embellishments and decorations to give it some flair. Heck, he was even prepared for the complete opposite; an absolute dump that would make a landfill look clean.
What he didn't expect was a fourteen-year-old girl's bedroom
Pink! Hot pink! Candy pink! Pink everywhere the eye could see and overflowing with, of all things, plush dolls. Hope blinked multiple times and wiped his eyes, certain that he was either hallucinating or in a fever dream. he pinched himself and nope, it's still fucking pink. And that pinch stung like hell. It didn't help that on every shelf a bunch of fluffy plushes were staring him down with their beady, lifeless eyes. Hope stood there, utterly flummoxed and thoughtless walked into Glynda's bedroom. His eyes wandered everywhere and everywhere he looked, a plush looked back lifelessly.
"Why do I feel like I'm being judged by bundles of cotton wrapped in cloth?"
He walked to her "bed" and laid her flat on her back, permitting himself to take off her heels and glasses. He considered unhooking her bra and unzipping her skirt for her comfort's sake but thought better of it. He stepped away from the bed as Glynda snuggled to one of her plushies, a cheesy smile on her flushed face. He smiled.
"Sweet dreams, Glyny."
His next step was to be his last as his legs finally failed him. With a yelp, his knees buckled and his legs folded. He was lucky enough to fall on the edge of his friend's bed, softening his fall with cushioned softness. He breathed heavily, still shocked at the sudden loss of control in his legs. He grabbed them, hoping vainly to stabilize the quacking shake that possessed him. It took a while before the shaking finally ceased. His breathing calmed now that the agonizing pain had passed. He collapsed onto the bed, a deep sigh leaving his lungs.
That was fucking scary. For a moment, I thought that my legs were done for.
One of his arms rested over his eyes.
How long am I going to have to endure this? A few months? A few years? The rest of my life?
He let out a deep breath.
"Guess only time will tell." He muttered to himself.
As he went to do the laborious task of getting up, he felt a pair of firm feminine hands grope him. A shiver ran down his spine as he let out another yelp, this time as Glynda held him close to her.
"Glynda?!"
The teacher snuggled with her impromptu little spoon, rubbing her face in his soft mane. She giggled like a child, her drunken rosy cheeks framing a stupid grin.
"Eshy~" she cooed. "You're sho shoft! I knew cleaming you would do you shome good."
Hope struggled weakly to break Glynda's grip but any prolonged movement exacerbated his soreness and pain. He sighed tiredly as Glynda kept cuddling with him. He looked at the open door, at his wheelchair in the other room. It looked so far away despite only being a few meters away. Seeing as his head was unavailable to shake, he rolled his eyes.
"You know what?"
The covers that kept his current bedfellow warm were tossed off only to come back down with him under them.
"This is not my problem anymore."
Hope settled in his cage of one part soft flesh and one part mattress. The pain settled as Glynda's grip softened. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier as the gentle aroma of her perfume overtook his olfactory and her soft, regular heartbeat playing the part of a lullaby. The darkness crept over his eyes but he knew that, unlike the one that tore his body apart, this shade was a benevolent one.
Sunshine filtered through the window of her room. She groaned as the rays of light coming from the giant asshole in the skies hit her square in the face. She dragged her hand across her face and looked around.
"...I'm home?" she noted, somewhat incredulous.
She muttered to herself as she tried to recall last night, only managing to remember up to the conversation they had on the streets. Her cheeks brightened as she self-consciously rubbed her behind.
"Why do I say these things..."
She sighed. Guess Hope was right about her babbling when tipsy. She went to fetch her glasses, only noticing a strangely textured thing rubbing against her chest. She jolted in surprise, not recognizing the soft but familiar feeling against her flesh. She looked down and immediately froze.
There lay Hope, in her bed, sleeping soundly.
A thousand questions whirled in her head. Why was he in her bed? Why was his shirt unbuttoned all the way and his pants were zipped down? Why did-
Her blood froze in her vein as her inner voice screamed like a hell-damned banshee. Did she do something to him in her drunken stupor? Why else would he be half-dressed in her bed otherwise? The mere fact that this was a possibility both horrified and disgusted her. She sat up slowly, gripping the sides of her head with panic as her imagination vividly filled the gaps in her memory in the worst, most horrific ways possible.
Hope's lips parted into a sneer, Glynda's sudden and frantic movements waking him from his sleep. He glared tiredly at his bedmate.
"Fuck are you doing this early?"
Glynda croaked, her eyes fidgeting down to meet his gaze.
"Did- Did we?-"
"If you're asking me if we did the dirty, then no."
Glynda let out a sigh of relief that rivalled those who dodged the reaper.
"Oh thank the gods!"
Hope turned with a slight grunt, facing his friend.
"I'm pretty sure the neighbour would have called the cops from me screaming if we had, so I don't know why that was your first thought."
She crossed her arms.
"You're half-naked in my bed! Of course, I'm gonna draw conclusions!"
"And you're fully clothed and your pantyhoses are intact." he retorted.
She looked down in confusion. Wait, was she? Sure enough, the only thing missing from last night's outfit were her heels. Her mouth remained agape, stupefied by her previous shark jumping.
"Oh." She let out.
He shook his head.
"Glynda, I have no interest in scoring with a chick that can't as much as fucking stay awake while I plow her." He explained. "And although it would be my pleasure, I'm in no condition for rolling in the hay with you as I currently am anyways."
Glynda blinked.
"Did you just admit-"
"Yes and I'm not taking it back."
The combat teacher began playing with one of her golden locks, looking away with a light blush.
"Y-You really don't mince words, do you?"
He snorted.
"Do I ever?"
"No... No, you don't."
She cleared her throat. As she went to leave bed, Hope's bandaged arms wrapped themselves lazily around her waist.
"H-Hope?!" Glynda stuttered.
He remained in bed, groaning tiredly.
"It's eight in the morning on a Saturday, Glyn. Stay in fucking bed."
"You can't be serious!" she shrieked panickily.
"The clock is on the nightstand if you don't believe me."
"That's not what I meant!"
He kept holding on to her.
"I'm not moving." He announced, one eye open with an air of finality. "And neither are you."
She tried to argue but ended up only being able to connect random words. Hope chuckled softly.
"Flustered Glynda's kinda cute, not gonna lie."
Steam began evacuating out of her ears as she became a bright red. She groaned in an uncharacteristically adorable way before burying her head in her plushes. He patted her shoulder playfully.
"Atta girl."
Hope took one of the plushes and inspected it, curious. It was a cartoonish brown bird, possibly a raptor, with big blue eyes and a playful smile. Its fabric was soft and lustrous, smelling of washing detergent and fabric softener.
"You must be Essy..."
The eyes, the colour of its coat, its name... Hope chuckled.
The cosmos really does like to take the piss out of me...
He held the plush close, his eyes fixated on the plushies' own.
I wonder if this is just some cosmic punchline... or if I'm here for a reason...
He lets go of the plush.
"Only time will tell."
Glynda looked up from her pillowy face cover.
"What?"
Hope exhaled through his nose, wrapping his arms around Glynda's neck and hugging her back. The little spoon let out a squeak.
"H-Hope?!"
He played with a lock of her hair, a playful smirk on his lips.
"Payback."
He snuggled close, feeling her furious heartbeat through her back. She closed her eyes tight, her face burning hotter than brimstone. Never in her life did she feel like this. A handsome man, who openly admitted to wanting to make love to her, was spooning her in her bed. What kind shitty rom-com telenovela had her life devolved into?!
As she was fretting, Hope couldn't help but be amused by his situation. A beautiful woman was docilely letting herself be spooned by him. The funny part was that if she had firmly told him no,
he wouldn't be playing around.
Glynda really is quite the cutie.
APOCRYPHA: END!
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