Chapter 38 – He Said, She Said

In which Weiss Schnee levies atrocious accusations against the upstanding hero of Vale without any proof.

"Blake," Weiss bawled, as the cat Faunus approached her. "Blake."

"Weiss?" Blake's eyes drifted down to the corpse in Weiss' clutches, which she hadn't moved an inch from since he'd fallen. "W-Weiss? Wait, is that…is that…oh my gods. Oh my gods, Weiss."

Even though she'd hated her brother for most of the time he'd been alive, she could do nothing but cry for his untimely death.

"M-May I?" Blake asked unsteadily. Then, pausing for a moment, she asked, "May we?"

Weiss looked up and saw that it wasn't just a hallucination. Blake was actually there, right in front of her. Blake was alive.

And so was Ruby. And so was Yang.

All three members of her team were alive and right in front of her. If Weiss weren't already crying for her brother, she would've been driven to tears by the mere sight of them.

"We…We got Beacon," Ruby said, confusion on her face. "To come here, that is. Um, who is –"

"Ruby." Blake shook her head. "I'll explain later."

"Is that her bro–"

"Ruby!" Blake sharply barked.

"It's okay, Blake." Weiss unsteadily tried to take in a breath. "I'm just glad you three are okaaaahahhhaaay!"

She didn't even make it two sentences before bawling, and her team immediately rushed to embrace her. Weiss was so glad to have them back, so so so glad, but the price it had cost was enormous.

Whitley…he never had a single happy day in his life, and now it's over before it ever got to begin.

It didn't make sense. Whitley had tried to kill Blake, and now Whitley was dead and Blake was alive and Weiss was mourning for Whitley. But family never made sense, especially when that family was the Schnees.

"I'm so sorry, Weiss. I'm so sorry."

Ruby and Yang remained silent, content to watch Weiss break down in Blake's arms as she finally found it in herself to let go of Whitley's body.

"He was…I wasn't his sister…he wanted me to…I tried, I tried, but then…"

Weiss' eyes refocused.

But then Torchwick.

"Where is he?" Weiss flatly said.

"Weiss?"

"Torchwick." Her face morphed from sorrow to rage. "Where. Is. He."

Blake didn't answer, but she looked down from the rooftop on which they stood down to the ruins below, where Torchwick was casually speaking to a group of about ten pro-hunters who'd formed a circle with him around Neo's dead body. Ozpin and Ironwood were among them.

"He did this," Weiss said to Blake. "He killed my brother."

Hands shaking with rage, Weiss carefully removed herself from Blake's arms, closed Whitley's eyes, and stepped to the edge of the building. Hopping off, she allowed her wings to slow her descent as she fell and bent her knees when she landed. Then, picking herself up, she stormed towards Torchwick.

There was a huntsman and a huntresses in the circle they'd formed that were between her and him, but Weiss pushed right past them. Torchwick didn't respond in fear upon seeing her – he was far too polished an actor for that – but he did avert his eyes.

"Weiss, I'm so sorry that I wasn't able to save –"

"Murderer," Weiss seethed softly. Then, louder, much louder, screaming. "MURDERER! YOU KILLED HIM!"

Torchwick raised his hands and made a calming gesture. "Weiss, Neopolitan's semblance was to –"

"KILLER!"

Weiss launched herself arms first towards Torchwick, throwing her fists towards him as hard as she could and battering his face. After a belated moment of faking shock, he raised his arms to shield his face as the hunters pulled Weiss away.

"He killed Whitley! He did it!"

"You saw what she wanted you to see, Weiss!" Torchwick swallowed uncomfortably. "Please believe me!"

Gods, now that the curtain had been lifted, she couldn't stop seeing how fake everything about him was. Every emotion, every gesture, every syllable, it was all a carefully crafted lie to make people do what he wanted them to do. There truly was no human being being beneath all those thick layers of deception.

"Miss Schnee, please stop!" Ozpin commanded. "We have yet to complete our investigation, but –"

"There's no need to investigate, I can tell you what happened." Weiss pointed a finger at Torchwick. "He killed Whitley, and he tried to kill me!"

All heads turned to Torchwick, looking for his refutation.

He didn't affect shock, nor did he feign outrage. The only readable emotion on his face was sympathy. He was pitying Weiss.

"I am so, so, sorry for the loss of your brother, my friend Weiss. But it was not me –"

"I saw you do it!" Weiss screamed. "I held him in my arms as you shot him in the back!"

"Allow me to explain, my friend, and you can finally come to understand what has happened here. I've crossed blades with this fiend before – her name is Neopolitan, and she's wanted by the Valean police for a number of crimes. Her semblance is to create lifelike illusions that are too realistic for human or Faunus eyes to tell the difference. Her modus operandi is to sneak up on victims by taking on the form of close fr–"

"Liar! You were working with her! You killed her, and then you betrayed Whitley!"

"…Weiss, what you saw was Neopolitan's illusions." Torchwick crossed his hands behind his back. "But you've lost more than any young woman should ever have to lose, and if your energies need you to release rage my way for the purpose of healing, I understand."

"You're a fake!" Weiss accused. "You don't…everything about you is a lie! You aren't my friend, and you aren't a Sensei, and you tried to help Whitley kill me!"

"That's it, my friend." Torchwick nodded solemnly. "Let it all out."

Blake, Ruby, and Yang had come down from the rooftop the conventional way by this point to join the conversation. Weiss noticed them and turned their way, desperate for aid.

"Tell them, Blake. He's a criminal!"

"Weiss is right." Blake nodded. "Torchwick's actions don't add up."

"But did you witness any criminal behavior?" Ironwood asked skeptically.

Blake had no answer to that.

Yang did, however. "He left us behind with a bunch of people, and then a bomb went off and nearly blew us the fuck up!"

"So he wasn't responsible for the attempt on your lives, then," said another huntress from the entourage. "He wasn't even there when it happened."

"Y-Yeah, but –"

"Young Mr. Schnee looks like he died but moments ago, as did this Neopolitan figure," said Ozpin. "Team RWBY, you've been with us since you called for aid last night. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you were not present for the altercation between Neopolitan, your leader, and Professor Torchwick."

"You're wrong!" Weiss screamed. "It was me against the two of them!"

"You see now, my friends, the dangers of Neopolitan's semblance." Torchwick tapped his cane against the ground. "Would that I could have brought her in alive, but she was just too dangerous."

"I can only imagine," said a huntsman, bending down the examine the corpse. "Imprisoning someone who can take any shape…lethal force was probably the only option"

"He's lying," rasped Weiss, her voice growing hoarse from all of the yelling.

It was just like always. Torchwick was feeding the entire world his lies, and he was doing it so well that he was going to get away with it. Weiss' word as a student was worth no more than his as a professor, and it seemed like the crowd of rescuers among them had already decided that Weiss was a traumatized youth, too shaken by the death of her brother to know what she'd seen.

She could just imagine the sequence of events – an inquiry would be made, the wounds on Whitley, Neo, and Torchwick would support his story, and he'd walk off scot-free. He'd turned on his allies and switched his game in the perfect moment, and now he was free to reap the rewards of a plan coming to fruition.

Myrtenaster didn't make it two feet.

"Miss Schnee!" roared Ironwood. "Stop behaving like an animal and control yourself!"

"General!" barked Torchwick, bristling slightly. "Language."

Ozpin bristled. "James, her brother has just –"

"She was trying to kill an innocent man, Oz." Ironwood yanked the rapier out of Weiss grasp and handed it to one of his Atlesian soldiers. "There can be no excuse. I refuse to allow it, not when she and her allies so frequently play the race card to get out of trouble."

"You don't understand," Weiss said, trying to stay calm. Passion had only made her reckless, and she needed to remain rational about this. "I didn't see some passing glance of Torchwick or a…a…whatever semblance you seem to think it was. The two of them held me captive for the entire night with the intent to execute me for Whitley."

"…for Mr. Schnee?" asked Ozpin, raising an eyebrow.

"He hired them, to remove me so that he could be the next in line for inheriting the SDC, but they betrayed him, and –"

Ironwood turned his back to Weiss and walked off. "I've heard enough of this slander. You can't even keep your own story straight, you overprivileged child."

Most of the huntsmen and huntresses in the crowd seemed to nod along with him, and Weiss could have screamed.

Most, but not all.

"And what was Mr. Schnee doing here?" asked the headmaster of Beacon. "He lives in Atlas, as I recall."

Ironwood stopped running away like a child and turned back around. "A full investigation will –"

"I'd…ahem." Ozpin cleared his throat. "I'd like to hear it from Professor Torchwick himself."

Torchwick didn't stammer or stutter, nor did he falter of fail to speak, but he did take a single second longer to answer than he had before. Just one. It wasn't enough to arouse any suspicion in the crowd, as they'd already made up their minds, but the time he needed stood out to Weiss like a sore thumb.

Ozpin also shifted minutely.

"I'm afraid I don't know. Neopolitan's plans and aims are unknown to me, and she's taken them to the grave. If I'd have to guess, kidnapping two of Jacques Schnee's children sounds like the trappings of a ransoming plot, but there's no way to tell for certain." His mouth flattened as though he'd sucked on a lemon. "A-And…forgive me, my friends, for I would never speak ill of the dead willingly, but I was only able to kill Neopolitan after Whitley was already murdered by her hand. I suppose it is not impossible that he was her employer."

He was covering his ass pre-emptively. If any evidence implicating Whitley arose, he hadn't explicitly said anything contrary to it. Torchwick was maneuvering about the truth with enough caution that he never committed to anything until it was fully secure. He'd even abandoned his own partner when it was in his best interests to rewrite the narrative.

"I see," Ozpin said.

Weiss studied her headmaster briefly. Perhaps he does see.

Torchwick noticed it in the headmaster as well, even if he didn't show anything.

Weiss had done all that she could. If she continued to throw out 'baseless accusations' to tarnish the character of a professor who could tolerate no slander, she'd drive more people into his court. But the boss of Torchwick's cushy job knew the truth now, and Weiss imagined it would be a lot harder for him to operate from now on.

Ozpin couldn't do anything, not without proof, but this was only the beginning of the war, not the end. Torchwick might claim that he was the one who held all of the cards, but he had already tipped his hand when he believed victory was assured, and now Weiss knew the truth. No longer would she be wondering about Sensei Shiriganai or Mercury Black or Amalgamations or Doctor Merlot. She had done away with all of his precious distractions, and he had no more power over her.

Team RWBY accepted Weiss back among them as she departed from the pro-hunters. They were in the process of collecting Neo's body, so the students moved away from the grisly scene of corpses and out into the street, beyond the shadow of the Huntsman Barracks.

"We believe you," Ruby said immediately. "No questions asked, we believe you, Weiss. You wouldn't make this up."

"Thank you, Ruby. That means a lot to me."

"We won't give this up," Blake promised. "I won't give this up."

"Torchwick can't keep getting away with it forever. He's bound to slip up, and we'll be there to nab him." Yang patted Weiss on the back, then grimaced. "Oh, I-I'm so–"

Weiss grabbed the arm and used it to pull Yang into a full body hug. With the raw bloodlust fading as Torchwick split off with Ironwood and Ozpin, Weiss was now free to feel the full weight of her own grief.

For a brief moment, she thought she'd lost everything. Her team and her brother, both dead. Now, she had one of those two bonds back, and she was never going to stop treasuring it.

This time around, Ozpin didn't force Team RWBY to share an airship with Roman Torchwick. The four of them were given their own privacy in a cabin of their own, with only the pilot and a pro-huntress escort to look after them from the front seat.

Weiss looked over the data-pad which listed what their official mission to Mountain Glenn was, or at least what Torchwick had left in. No mentions of Miracle Ivy or Grimm-human monsters or secret science labs were left in.

"He took out all the cinematic or farfetched elements," Weiss noted, reading along with the rest of the team.

Blake nodded. "All that's left is a standard sounding mission – a single missing botanist who'd snuck into Mountain Glenn in hopes of finding rare plant species, now presumed dead."

It was just another layer of protection for Torchwick. If Team RWBY somehow did manage to finagle together some proof of the original mission, it was similar enough that almost anything could be explained away.

And he never left definitive proof out of his own hands. We saw the holo-projection, but we don't have any records of it.

"What exactly happened after you chased off after him?" Yang asked, rubbing her eyes. Weiss could see some bags starting to form underneath them.

These girls…they had spent the entire night with Beacon searching for Weiss. Just how they'd survived Torchwick's attempts to kill them was unclear, but Weiss had been asked first, and her mystery was far more intricate.

She told them everything Torchwick had said to her, trying to recall his exact words when possible. The only reason this had happened was because he'd manipulated them so well, meaning that the way to beat him going forward was to know his tricks inside and out. It hurt, having to relive her own misery at having thought her team dead, and Weiss felt no small amount of shame at having just given up and letting Neo capture her, but they deserved the truth.

Telling them about Whitley had been particularly painful, but Weiss forced the words out of her mouth, even when it took her minutes of silence to compose herself through her tears. To give them the full context, she'd had to bare her soul before the rest of the team, and that included going over her own unfair judgments of and abuse towards Whitley throughout his childhood.

"Was it ever physical?" Ruby asked, some fear in her voice.

"No," Weiss answered honestly. "Mostly it was just pranks, but looking back at them, I belittled him at every opportunity."

"He was a jerk too," Blake said.

Weiss shook her head. Blake might have known Whitley, but she hadn't seen or heard him open up the way Weiss had on that rooftop. It might've sounded like a spoiled boy asking his talented big sister to give him more screentime, but the truth was that Weiss almost always had one-upped him. She'd been the elder, so every spar they'd had went overwhelmingly in her favor, to the point that he gave up on nascent dreams of hunting in his early childhood. Her voice was naturally more suited for singing, and the hours she put in had made her popular across the world – a household name in the music world, even.

This wasn't arrogance. Weiss truly had done better than Whitley. And while she was within her rights to do better, he was right that she could have easily faked a mistake once or twice just to avoid making him look like a waste by comparison.

And it got worse, the more she thought about it. Never had she even offered to help him improve himself and rise out of the misery he'd wallowed in. Father didn't care to hire the finest tutors for his bastard, and Whitley was mostly left to his own devices around the manor. Weiss could have saved him, but she'd instead judged him and found him guilty for something he'd never done.

"You were just a kid, Weiss," Blake said soothingly.

"I was. But I look back, and I know I could have done better. I was mature enough. I just never bothered."

"You never knew."

"I knew how bad Winter made me feel," Weiss admitted. "I knew, Blake. Thank you for trying, but I knew. This is on me."

"It's on Whitley," Yang said, only to freeze up. "E-Er, I mean…"

"He was a murderer by the end," Weiss concurred. "Torchwick killed those actors in his name, and many more. A poor childhood can't excuse that, but…he was still my brother. A villain and a victim."

Across the aisle from Blake and Weiss, the two sisters looked at one another and hugged. Weiss, who had already been leaning on Blake, melted further into her loving embrace.

At around that time, the familiar spires of Beacon Academy came into view before the sprawling city of Vale did, and Weiss looked out the window to gaze out at the view of her recently adopted home. What had happened in Mountain Glenn may have been something that would never leave her, but Mountain Glenn itself was finally behind her.

Team RWBY's first mission was over.

Their escort told them to go straight back to their dorm, where they would have a security force provided by Atlas waiting outside to ensure their safety in the wake of the Mountain Glenn tragedy, but Weiss ignored it and veered away as soon as the airship was out of sight. Pulling over to a quiet corner behind a building, she took out her scroll in the shade of a convenient tree.

Before Weiss went back home, before she ate a meal to replenish her strength, before she settled down in bed to ease her aching muscles, she needed to speak to her father.

"I'm have to be the one to tell him that his son is dead," Weiss explained to Blake, who'd come along with her while Ruby and Yang waited at a distance. "He needs to know, and I'd rather be the one to inform him before he's fed lies about Neopolitan and her semblance."

"Are you sure?" asked Blake. "Hearing his voice right now might not be the best thing for you."

That was true; the last thing Weiss needed was to speak with her father about the death of a boy that his…that their neglect had caused. However, the circumstances of Whitley's downfall and demise had highlighted something in Weiss' life, and she refused to let his final lesson to her pass on with him.

Weiss was a Schnee. Even if she despised almost every other Schnee, even if the feeling was mutual, even if it was a long list of loved ones who mattered more to her before another sharing her last name showed up, she was a Schnee. No one was going to fix her broken family for her.

"I'll be fine. Don't wait up for me."

"We will." Before Weiss could tell Blake not to, she shook her head. "We're a team, Weiss – all four of us. We aren't going to leave you behind."

Weiss had hidden herself away from the authorities by sheltering in a small patch of carefully pruned trees on the far half of one of Beacon's buildings, the side opposite the front of the school, so the rest of her team placed themselves at the corners of the building to keep lookout for anyone who might interrupt her.

When Weiss was clear, she made the call.

Up popped the image of Father after a momentary delay. "Daughter. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Whitley is dead."

There was silence between them for a long moment.

"Whitley…your brother?"

Weiss nodded.

"He's...dead? What?!"

"When do you last recall seeing him?" Weiss asked, her voice barely even alive at this point.

Father's face shifted to the side, and he mouthed something to himself. "I…I don't rightly recall. A few days? A week? He mostly keeps to himself."

"He came to Vale," Weiss said. "And he died. My brother is dead."

For whatever reason, Father didn't even bother to ask Weiss if this were some type of Belladonna-esque prank. Either he saw the truth in her eyes or realized she wouldn't draw humor from such a topic.

His hands folded in front of him. "Tell me how. Tell me everything."

Having gone over it recently with her team, Weiss' retelling of the story was far more streamlined this time around. It worried her, slightly, that if she continued to explain the pain again and again, to her team and her father and the police and whoever else wanted to know, she might grow desensitized to it.

She didn't want to. Even if Whitley's last lingering impact on her was to bring her pain, she wanted, no, she needed to hold onto that pain. The worst betrayal she could inflict upon her late sibling would be to forget the jolt his death had given her and lapse back into her old ways.

I need to do something. Perhaps I'm the victim when it comes to Father or Mother or Winter, but nothing is every going to change unless I make it change.

Whitley would not be left without a legacy. As he had promised Weiss to honor her memory, she promised him (and herself) that the cross-generational pain that she and ever living Schnee suffered from would be fixed. It didn't matter if it took Weiss' entire life – no family of Weiss' would be eschewed and ignored by her any longer, regardless of how minor or major their sins were.

"Is that everything?" Father asked at the end of her retelling.

"Yes. Is…Is Mother in the manor with you? I'd like to speak to her."

Father shook his head. "At the moment, she is not, but I will see her informed of both Whitley's death and your message."

"Okay. I also intend to fix things with Winter."

Weiss wasn't sure why she was announcing every one of her plans to her father. It felt like a part of her wanted him to acknowledge it for her own validation, or to challenge it so that she could argue in her own defense. At the same time, saying it aloud made her newfound desires more real, as though they risked fading away if no one else knew of them.

Father, for his part, was as cold as ever. His mustache obscured his upper lip, preventing Weiss from seeing his facial expression as he stared down and slightly to the right.

"Kali is in her room at the manor." He glanced up at Weiss. "I can have her sent for."

"No," Weiss said. "Blake was involved, too. I told my parent first, and I won't rob her of that same right."

"Weiss." Father's face softened. "You look like you need rest."

"I've been awake for a while. There's just so much to…"

Weiss had no true experience with loss or death before this, save for her grandfather. What…did she do? Was she supposed to start planning the funeral? Who did she talk to about the investigation?

"Daughter, please. Thank you for telling me of this, but you mustn't run yourself ragged any further. You need sleep, Weiss. Go back to your room and take some time off. Catch your breath. Spend the day with your close friends…Blake and that energetic child, Lucy. I can handle all affairs. I owe it to you to take care of this."

Weiss couldn't remember the last time Father had been this gentle and encouraging. Whitley wasn't his son, but he had been an important part of his life, and a Schnee at that. Perhaps this marked a change for the better, at least momentarily.

"I'm going to…"

Weiss couldn't even finish the sentence.

Father nodded understandingly and ended the call for her.

It was strange, when Weiss thought about it.

She'd hadn't actually spent a full day in Mountain Glenn.

Her entire time in the city totaled less than twenty-four hours. She'd arrived in the afternoon of yesterday, cleared out the Grimm in the evening, wandered away with Torchwick to fight Merlot at midnight, and encountered Whitley in the morning of the next day. Her entire life had unwound that fast.

The comfort of resting in her own dormitory bunk felt like the full combined luxuries of the entire Schnee manor, but she hadn't actually slept in a sleeping bag. She hadn't slept at all, as a matter of fact, so once she'd washed herself clean of her brother's blood, Weiss surrendered to her own slumber.

She wasn't the only one. The other girls were all equally tired, if not more. Weiss herself had at least been able to pass out and catch a break from exertion then, but they'd been awake all night long looking for her.

It wasn't long before the four of them were drifting away into the nothingness of sleep.

Weiss couldn't remember when exactly she awoke. Lying down in bed, she just remained there, perhaps for a few minutes, perhaps for several hours. The first time she checked the clock after waking, it said 5:30pm. Somehow, the mundane thought that her sleep schedule was going to be ruined by this mission popped into her head. It was a normal thing to think, but it felt like a non sequitur after the abnormal events of their first mission.

Ruby was also awake, but she too lay in her bunk. She and Weiss made eye contact, sharing a nonverbal agreement that no one was ready to get up just yet. Even if they were awake, they were all tired, mentally and physically.

Weiss took the time to reflect on a great many things, but by the end of it, she could barely remember any of her scattered thoughts.

Time passed, and eventually Yang woke up as well. She too remained in her position, clutching her pillow as she turned on her side to face the center of the room in restful silence.

When Blake shifted in her bunk, Weiss had to ask. "How exactly did you three survive? I felt the explosion of the movie set from the train tunnels where I was. Torchwick loaded enough ordnance to level the entire building and kill all of the people within."

The Rose sisters shared a glance.

Blake, whose eyes were still closed, appeared to be the picture of exhaustion as she answered. "One of the actors, a Faunus with fins and stuff…he jumped on top of the bomb." Her dark answer contrasted with the tranquility she exuded.

"It muted the blast enough that our auras could keep us alive," Yang elaborated. "Just us, though."

Weiss just looked their way and nodded.

"Gosh, Yang," said Ruby. "The nobility of the almost-human porpoise Faunus."

"True, Ruby. It was noble of that Faunus to hurl himself into the path of that final explosion. He gave his life for ours."

Sadly, though, the gentle moment could not last, for a madman waving twin pistols in an Atlesian military uniform came barging through their door. All four huntresses immediately sat up and nearly raised their weapons until they saw who it was.

"General Iro–"

"Weiss Schnee, I am placing you under arrest."

"No, James, you are not." Ozpin appeared in the broken doorway, nimbly stepping over the downed door and coming in after his fellow headmaster. "Miss Schnee is not under arrest."

"Ozpin, she murdered a man! You can't protect her from this! The Schnees will have their day in court this time, or you can expect a complete dissolution of all military, economic, cultural, and political ties between Atlas and Vale!"

Weiss was now up and active. Ironwood might have been a chauvinist, a jingoist, an egoist, and plenty more negative connotation '-ists,' but he was not a fabulist. If he were threatening all of these things, he must've been upset for a pretty good reason, or at least a pretty bad one.

"You're arresting Weiss?" asked Blake, sitting up.

Ironwood's gun immediately was at her forehead. "Stand down, White Fang!"

Blake didn't flinch. One part of it was probably aura-assured safety, but for another thing, each and every member of Team RWBY had been through so much that a general who used his wide firearms to compensate frightened them very little.

"James, you will put down that gun right this instant, and you will cease this foolishness, or I will personally intervene." Ozpin's hand twisted, and the cane within it followed suit. The wooden floor of Weiss' room splintered under the pressure. "And you will apologize to Team RWBY."

"APOLOGIZE?" roared Ironwood, turning away from Blake. "THEY'RE MURDERERS!"

"And you, James Ironwood, have just made yourself a slanderer."

"It is not slander when they are guilty!"

Ozpin was nonplussed by his companion's rage. "It is defamation of character, also called slander or libel depending on the circumstances, when you inflict damage to their reputation or mental state by presenting a citizen of the kingdom of Vale in a false light through criticisms, accusations, or other dishonest statements. By the letter of the law, James, you are committing a crime here."

"I am not the criminal," Ironwood seethed through clenched teeth. "They are."

"Now your slander charges are doubled. Care to go for a triple, old friend?"

The rage on the general's face did not abate in the face of Ozpin's arguments, but he at least holstered his guns.

"The fault in your logic, headmaster, is that I have not perjured myself. They are guilty."

"Your proof?" Ozpin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Schnee accused Torchwick of murdering her brother, and the other Faunus stood by her. They're the only ones with a motive. As huntresses, they could have –"

"Wait, wait, wait." Weiss looked up at the two headmasters in confusion, brushing her palms over her sleepy eyes to manually open them. "Torchwick…is…has something happened?"

Ozpin nodded. "Roman Torchwick killed himself in his room while you were asleep."

Weiss may have been drowsy, but she at least had the good sense to not react to that by laughing or smiling. Ruby pressed a hand over her mouth after a second of shock, making it look like she was horrified, but Weiss suspected she knew what expression was truly underneath.

"No, Ozpin. You and the Schnee will not sweep this under the rug once more." Ironwood pointed a fat finger in Weiss' face so close that she had to lean backwards to avoid having her eye prodded. "She killed him! I'm sure of it!"

"Oh, you're sure of it, are you?" Ozpin's smirk could have given the apparently late Professor Torchwick a run for his money. "Excellent grounds for a trial. Miss Schnee absolutely must be guilty if you're sure."

"She has a motive." He leaned forward and grabbed Weiss' weapon case, where she stored Myrtenaster when it wasn't in use. "We have a weapon. And you saw the body!"

"If that's all we need, then I assume you'll be posthumously prosecuting Torchwick for the murder of Whitley Schnee," Ozpin asked, grinning. His smile fell when he saw Weiss wilt at the mention of her brother. "Forgive me, I should not have used the name of the deceased so lightly. You have my apologies, Miss Schnee."

"You aren't thinking clearly, old friend." Ironwood's back straightened out. Had he bird wings like Weiss', they would have primped up. "Rest assured, I will not let the safety of your students, mine, or the general public be endangered. The council will hear of this, and I will be lobbying for control of Amity Colosseum's security to be handed to me."

"Hear of what, James? How you pointed a gun at one of my students? How you accused Miss Schnee on nothing more than a hunch?"

"There is proof! She was accusing him of…of…"

Ozpin didn't even need to point out the hypocrisy. With no evidence, Weiss had accused Torchwick of murder – however, in her case, she was protected by Torchwick's own cover story, claiming that Neo had disguised herself as him. Ironwood had no such excuses to hide behind.

Is…Is Torchwick really dead? Ozpin said he saw the body, but I can think of no reason why he would kill himself.

Weiss cleared her throat, knowing that if she spoke out of turn, the good general was likely to pistol whip her and claim it self-defense.

"You said that Torchwick is dead?"

Ozpin nodded, shooting a glare to Ironwood before he could blurt out any more poorly thought out theories about Weiss' guilt.

"How exactly did he kill himself?"

"Both wrists slit," Ozpin answered. "With a note admitting to doing it out of guilt over murdering Whitley Schnee."

That made Weiss nearly double back in surprise. He would never admitted to his crimes, and the idea of Torchwick succumbing to guilt was unthinkable.

He's still out there.

"A forged note," Ironwood growled.

"I recognize the handwriting," Ozpin said evenly. "You seem hellbent of protecting his character in spite of overwhelming evidence impugning it, General. An admission of guilt that corroborates young Weiss' story, and yet you cling to this grand theory implicating Miss Schnee despite the fact that visiting transfer team next door told us they didn't see Team RWBY's door open."

"She could have flown out the window."

"None of the professors still at Beacon who reside across from Torchwick's room said they heard any disturbances like breaking and entering, let alone a scuffle."

"They could be lying."

Ozpin's mask of politeness dropped off at those words, and Ironwood's own confidence finally faltered.

"You accuse Beacon of conspiracy to murder, then."

"Oz, I didn't –"

"James, I'm not trying to score points against you in a verbal spar. I want you to see that you've become unreasonable, and your judgment is compromised by your desperation to punish the daughter for the actions of the father. Did you not, for a moment, actually suspect that a professor of Beacon, a professor like Bart or Peter or Glynda, took part in an assassination?"

Ironwood threw his body away from Ozpin, turning towards the window of Team RWBY's dormitory. His eyes roved over the glass, presumably inspecting it for signs of use so that he didn't have to face Ozpin.

"You will find no victory if you continue making false allegations against Miss Schnee and her peers. It will do nothing but bring heartache to a girl who is still reeling from the loss of…from the losses she sustained today. Let. This. Go."

Ironwood's head swiveled to face Weiss, and his eyes glared into hers. There was a rabid anger inside of them that Weiss could see, a desperation to prove himself right and expose the Schnees he hated so furiously to the world. But there was also frustration at his utter failure to do so in this moment.

Instead of pushing further, the general instead harumphed at Weiss, glared daggers at Blake (Weiss carefully watched his hands), and steamrolled past Ozpin on his way out of the dorm.

"I'll be billing Atlas for the door, by the way!" Ozpin called down the hallway, a grin on his face.

"Is it true, sir?" asked Ruby, still covering her mouth with her sleeve. "Is Professor Torchwick truly dead?"

"He is. I've seen the body, and I've had Doctor Tsune test the blood, fingerprints, and DNA. This is no illusion semblance." He folded his hands behind his back. "Instead, it is indisputably the greatest scandal in huntsman history."

"You know he was guilty," Weiss said.

Ozpin's lips pursed. "Until an investigation has been conducted, he is seen innocent in the eyes of the law. Just as you are."

He nodded at Weiss, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Weiss took two seconds to put together just what that meant. "S-Sir, I've been asleep here for nearly the entire day. My team was with me."

"I understand." Ozpin nodded again. "For the record, Miss Schnee, regardless of what the general claims, what the investigation finds, or what I have must say, I believe you. I believe you that Torchwick was truly not the man he claimed to be."

"And you also believe that she didn't kill him," Yang continued, her head slowly bobbing up and down. "…right?"

"She did not. But if Torchwick is found to be guilty, whoever did kill him would have killed a murderer. Perhaps the idea of it shall be a lesson in Doctor Oobleck's Ethics in Hunting upper series course one day."

It didn't sit well with Weiss that her own headmaster believed she'd somehow done something to kill a man in cold blood, but like Ironwood, she could tell that nothing she said would get through to him.

"I'll be going, then." Ozpin backstepped out of their room and lifted up the knocked down door in front of him. "The investigation into Whitley's death may reach out to you and your team for statements at some point, but I do not expect the committee looking into Professor Torchwick's death will have much interest in a student who was halfway across campus at the time of his 'suicide.' I would say good day to you, but I think we can all agree that today was no good day. Farewell, Miss Schnee."

Getting back to normal wasn't going to be easy. Honestly, Weiss didn't even know if there was ever going to be a normal again, given how much things had changed. Her entire outlook on her family was utterly changed because of a brief conversation with Whitley, and Weiss couldn't stop thinking about it.

Mother was an alcoholic who would rather deal with booze than her own children, but Weiss had been bitter enough over Willow's behavior that she never even attempted to reconnect with her. There had been three…at least three?...several times when Mother had been sober for weeks on end after undergoing therapy, but Weiss had known it wouldn't last and didn't bother. Lo and behold, she'd been proven right each and every time, just as expected.

It didn't last because she hadn't bothered.

And Winter. Winter was like Ironwood Lite – she still suspected the Faunus, and on a good day, Weiss was 'one of the good ones.' But when Kali Belladonna herself had failed to get through to Winter and change her mind, Weiss had assumed it a lost cause and did her best to keep ignoring her estranged sister.

Kali might have been like a second mother…well, like a first mother to me, but to Winter she was no different than a stranger. A little sister might've been able to appeal to Winter's sense of family and redeem her. It would have at least been worth trying.

Even though it was well past midnight, Weiss couldn't sleep. Not only were these billowing thoughts keeping her mind from relaxing, but she also had been right that her extra long midday nap had thrown her sleep schedule out of whack. Blake and Ruby were equally afflicted by this curse, though Yang had managed to enter a light state of sleep.

All three of them were in the shared common space just outside of their dorm to give their one successful slumberer some peace and quiet. Blake was curled up with a good book that she kept frowning into, Ruby was playing on her scroll with earbuds in, and Weiss was deep within her own thoughts.

The toughest nut to crack was Father. Of all remaining family members, Weiss probably had the best relationship with him simply by default – they still regularly interacted. He was a bad man, most likely incapable of genuine human or Faunus compassion, but he'd done right by Weiss.

She'd come to Beacon to get away from him, and she stood by that decision, but maybe she shouldn't assume he was the epitome of evil that she sometimes likened him too. After all, as treacherous to his enemies as he was, he'd never actually turned that backstabbing against Weiss herself or the Belladonnas.

"I'm going to step outside for a moment," Weiss told the others. "I need to get some air."

It wasn't actually the air that was bothering her but the pervasive artificial lights of the room giving her a headache, but that sounded too difficult to explain. Blake just nodded and frowned deeper at her book, while Ruby popped out her headphone.

"I'll be outside," Weiss repeated.

"Sure?"

Weiss nodded. Torchwick was at large, but if Beacon itself wasn't safe, Weiss would have no true solace on all of Remnant. Still, to be absolutely sure, she brought Myrtenaster with her.

Sliding open a window, Weiss hopped out and stretched out her wings. It felt good to just leave the world behind and sail around, gliding through the nighttime in a circle, then a figure eight, then a four-leaf clover pattern. She wasn't going anywhere, just flying.

Mountain Glenn had been an ordeal that tested Team RWBY like they'd never been tested before, but its leader had gone through the worst of it. Torchwick had made it all about Weiss, and she'd run his gauntlet alone, but it had cost her.

Tucking her wings in, Weiss allowed gravity to pull her down. The air raced by her skin as she sped up, faster and faster, until her feathered limbs splayed out once more and turned her nosedive into a spiraling tailspin. From there, she kept dropping and maneuvered herself to slide right down the face of the dorm building.

As if by instinct, Weiss' hand reached down and landed on Myrtenaster. Her wings were a part of her, but so was her semblance, and a feeling deep down inside of her rose to the surface as she created a series of Glyphs below her to stabilize her flight. It wasn't something she'd ever tried before, but it came to her just as naturally as walking.

It was far from over. Roman was still out there, somewhere, and the only difference between him and Weiss was that he knew where she was. There was still the fear from the railroad – everything she'd ever do from now on would always be second guessed after he'd perfectly managed to trick her using Junior at the club – but also a sense of surety. For whatever reason, the heat at Beacon had been too much for him to handle. With Ozpin on his tail, he'd thrown away the lucrative career he'd risked so much to steal, and with it any chance for upwards mobility to positions of greater power. He wasn't infallible. He could be defeated.

He will be defeated.

With the aid of her Glyphs, Weiss' momentum broke when she touched the ground, but her knees didn't. This newly discovered synergistic use of her powers gave her the ability to land at top speeds without having to slow.

I'll be ready for him. We all will.

The sound of clapping filled the night air, and Weiss turned around to face the audience she hadn't known she'd had.

It wasn't a student from her dorm building, however.

But it wasn't Torchwick either.

Weiss could tell nothing about the figure other than the fact that they were slightly shorter than her, by perhaps a single inch. All other factors – age, species, gender, appearance – were completely obscured by the black mask that covered their face. It was like a skiing mask or maybe a compact motorcycle helmet, but it had no holes, and the material didn't appear to be sewn. There was a difference in appearance at one point which appeared to be a visor, but Weiss couldn't be sure without a closer analysis. The clapping figure's body was also covered from head to toe in a tight black jumpsuit with no exposed skin or visible features. Whoever they were, they clearly valued protecting their identity.

The figure didn't react hostilely or defensively to Myrtenaster being pointed their way. All they did was look down at it from the dorm building wall against which they leaned, then back up to Weiss. Then, they held out their left arm perpendicular to their chest as though they were checking their watch, and the other hand tapped against their left wrist. Their fingers pecked their own forearm as though they were popping bubble wrap pressed against their own skin.

"What are you –"

Weiss' scroll made a pinging noise, alerting her to a new notification. She ignored it; whoever this was more important than a text from Ruby or Blake.

The figure, however, angled their head towards Weiss waist. Their arms dropped down to their sides, and they stared expectantly. The head tilted down again, and then one more time before Weiss realized.

"Was that…you?"

A nod.

Without lowering her weapon, Weiss removed the messaging device from her combat skirt. Checking it while simultaneously keeping her wits about her for trickery from this potential threat (or from other directions, if they were but a distraction) was a challenge, but Weiss managed.

Unknown Number: Fancy flying, Weiss. You're even more impressive than I've heard.

"Who are you? Are you with Roman Torchwick?"

The figure's arm was raised once more, and they repeated the typing motion. Weiss leaned forward and tried to see if there were some sort of keypad or display on their sleeve, but nothing was visible.

And I'm a Faunus. The dark isn't an inhibiting factor to my vision. They're just tapping their sleeve and sending me instant messages. The screen must be under the covering, and they've just memorized the spacing of the buttons.

Weiss checked her scroll again, but there was no new message. The figure just kept typing.

Eventually, it came in. No ding came this time, however, as Weiss had the messaging app open.

Unknown Number: I'm your friend. And no, before you ask, not some sort of 'my friend Weiss' bullshit. I'm actually a friend.

Weiss' eyes narrowed at the masked being. "I could ask you vague interrogatory questions and get roundabout answers all night, so why don't you just tell me what you want to tell me."

The figure nodded and gave Weiss a thumbs up. Then, they started tapping their own arm again.

This time, it was a much shorter message.

Unknown Number: You're welcome.

"I'm welcome? I don't recall thanking you."

The figure clasped its own elbows with both hands. Sliding them forward, it produced two thin blades, each sliding out of the sleeve from an invisible hole at the wrist.

Weiss stepped back and created a Glyph to act as a barrier between herself and the figure, fully prepared to be attacked, but they only held up their arms and gave Weiss a good look at the blades.

Both were slicked with red blood.

It didn't take long for Weiss to connect the dots, given who'd died today. "Is that from –"

She stopped herself, suddenly keenly aware of the fact that she had no idea who was listening. If this was one of Ironwood's, trying to get her to admit an incriminating message, she wasn't going to be had.

"Would that be from…my…friend?"

The figure nodded.

"And you what, kept your weapons dirty all day just to show me? That's kinda cringe."

The figure flipped Weiss off as they tucked away the dual blades.

"Thank you, then," Weiss said, nodding her approval. Condoning flat out murder wasn't something she normally did, but Torchwick was the exception. Had she the power and the means, she would have done so herself. Hell, she'd tried to before Ironwood intercepted her blade.

The masked head of this anonymous assassin nodded, and Weiss could almost hear a faint snort from beneath the mask.

"But I have to ask – why are you masked? Who are you, really?"

One of the black-clad hands disappeared into a pocket or slit in the jumpsuit that Weiss hadn't even realized was there. Less than a second later, it emerged with a single red crystal. The luminous object was flicked to Weiss' feet.

Waiting a second just to make sure it wasn't some sort of explosive or other trap (Torchwick or not, she wasn't going to go about blindly trusting anyone), Weiss knelt down and lifted up the crystal. She had already recognized it as Dust, but as she brought it closer to herself, she saw a faint carving on one of its facets. It was only three letters long, and it was in theory completely innocent (several Dust manufacturers left a brand name on some of their finer, high-end merchandise), but it answered everything she needed to know about this person.

"You work for…I see."

And the only proof of it was a Dust crystal that resembled tens of billions of identical ones all over the world. It was a perfect covert message that only Weiss could understand, with complete plausible deniability.

"Please relay my thanks for taking care of it as promised, then."

The figure bowed slightly, then ran off into the shadow-filled campus.

End of Volume 2

Author's Notes

I wasted zero seconds in bringing Team RWBY back. To be fair, absolutely no one thought they were dead. Apologies for the random joke about the porpoise Faunus, but if you know, you know. And if you don't, google search the quote and you'll get it.

RIP Roman. He died the way he died - dead. He really is gone, but that doesn't mean season 3 will just be random shenanigans again. Weiss' life has changed, whether she likes it or not, and she's going to have to change with it. That's gonna mean a couple of things.

It took a crime to stop a criminal, but have no fear, Jacques is here. If you need a bad deed done for a good cause, what better half-Faunus could there be to call than the original protagonist of this fic? We also get a new character, but no guess who it is! Or I delete the entire fanfic and stop posting! I'm serious. *angery rat*

What's great is that Roman nearly won, and by using the law no less. Had the Schnee family morals not been willing to bend in order to accommodate the needs of the situation, he totally would've gotten away with it. Weiss was running on emotion, and he was still outthinking her to the very last. He just couldn't predict the goody-two shoes huntress and team having a hit squad on their team.

Happy rats, and don't do crime!