#officialgalaticdeliveryman

[pilot-boi]

Following the NR explanation of the Rusted Knight, could we get Oscar/Ozpins? I feel like most play it off as a joke with Oz saying he 'knew all along' and that's why he let Jaune into Beacon. If you don't mind, of course.

Oscar knows that his time is limited. Every time he uses magic (his own, theirs, Ozpin’s) he can feel the edges of himself and the consciousness in his head blurring.

Is he Oscar or is he Ozma, the farm boy or the wizard? And can he even mark a difference between the two?

For Oscar, feeling too old for his body is an uncomfortable familiarity at this point. He’s gotten far too used to looking in the mirror and feeling surprised to see his own face.

Is his hair supposed to be brown? He could’ve sworn that it was gray, blonde, darker, lighter. Are his eyes supposed to be hazel? Weren’t they brown, gray, blue, silver- And older, so much older than the face they sat in.

At least that part of his face always looks right.

Feeling too old for his bones is a fate he never would’ve wished on anyone. But then his family comes back from the grave- (They used to be friends. Did he only realize he thinks of them as family after they didn’t make it through the portal?) -and his big brother’s eyes are an echo of his own.

His wayward friends tell their tale, a story of quite literally fairytale proportions. Jaune looks surprised at his own voice and his own limbs and Oscar hates how it feels like looking in a funhouse mirror.

In the back of his mind, Ozpin is silent. Even without being able to read the old man’s thoughts, Oscar can tell he’s shocked beyond words. Oscar can’t tell if that’s gratifying or horrifying.

While Jaune talks to his team, Oscar loiters outside the door. It’s probably the last thing Jaune wants to do, but Oscar needs to talk to him, needs to assure him that it gets better. A quiet part of him whispers that he’s truly a like minded soul, lying to Jaune just to make himself feel better.

“You okay?” he murmurs to himself, to the voice in his head.

“I’m just… unused to the metaphorical shoe being on the other foot,” Ozpin responds eventually. 

His voice is deliberately even. His presence has felt locked away ever since Ruby looked him in the eye (looked through his eyes) and asked “What’s your favorite fairy tale?” Oscar doesn’t know why that would make the old wizard shutter himself, but it clearly means something to him.

For his own part, Oscar can’t stop thinking about how he used to dream of living in the Ever After, how the idea of falling into another world sounded amazing. How naive he used to be.

“Out of all the stories in the world, I certainly wasn’t expecting that one to be true,” Ozpin admits, and Oscar can feel how that rankles him. The old man hates not knowing things, almost as much as he hates seeing people hurt on his watch. 

“Yeah…” Oscar leans against the wall beside the door. His hands feel too small, too big. He shoves them in his pockets. “You didn’t know, then?”

“Not at all. If I had, then-”

The door opens and Jaune steps out. Only Jaune. He closes the door behind him and slumps against it, and he looks older than ever, younger than ever. He rubs a hand across his eyes and lets out a shuddering sigh, slumping in on himself even further.

Oscar shifts awkwardly, suddenly feeling like he’s intruding on something private. He’s never seen his big brother so vulnerable, and he’s quite certain that’s the point.

He clears his throat, and Jaune jumps, his sword in his hand and his arm pinning him to the wall before Oscar can react. His eyes are wild as a trapped animal, hard as steel, and looking at Oscar like he’s a threat. He’s Jaune, but he’s not Jaune, teeth bared and hands shaking.

Oscar realizes that Jaune is scared of him. Like his old barn cat, hissing and spitting and making itself look bigger to hide the fear inside.

And then the moment passes. And Jaune looks horrified with himself.

“Oh gods-” He drops his sword with a clatter and stumbles back as if burned. Oscar gasps for air and Ozpin murmurs comforts in the back of his mind. “Oh gods, Oscar. I’m so sorry, shit, I-” Jaune’s hands are up, hovering just in front of Oscar, wanting to touch, to comfort, but too scared of himself to approach.

“It’s okay,” Oscar interrupts. And really, it is. This isn’t the Jaune who slammed him into a wall in anger. (Against Oscar? Against Ozpin? Is there even a difference?) This is a Jaune terrified of what he’s become, and how could Oscar ever hold that against him?

“It’s really not…” Jaune mumbles, miserably. His hands are still shaking. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Ozpin asks, and Oscar nearly rolls his eyes at the old man’s mother-henning. 

“I’ve had worse,” he reminds Ozpin, and Jaune winces. It’s been how long for him, and he still feels guilty? “No that wasn’t to you-“

“I know.” 

“Oh.”

Jaune won’t look at him. His hands are shaking, and Oscar can’t help remembering how Jaune immediately started healing him as soon as he and the others found him in the whale. But now, not even a flicker of Aura appears on his brother’s hands. 

Did the people in the Ever After even have Aura? If they got hurt, could Jaune even have healed them? Did he try? Did he fail? How many pieces of himself did he flicker away trying to help people he couldn’t?

How many pieces has Oscar lost the same way?

“Did Ozpin know?” Jaune asks. And he doesn’t sound angry, not like last time, in Mistral. No, Jaune just sounds tired. “Did he know I’m the Rusted Knight?”

“I…” Oscar hesitates, registering the phrasing.

Not that he’d become the Rusted Knight, that he IS the Rusted Knight. Oscar wants to take him by the shoulders and assure him that he isn’t the fairytale character. But Oscar is many things, and a hypocrite is not one of them.

“May I?” The question comes and Oscar relinquishes control without a second thought, retreating to the back of their mind. He sees his posture straighten, his hands fall behind his back. “Hello again, Mr. Arc.” The voice that speaks from his mouth isn’t his own. (But it is, isn’t it?)

“Did you know?” Jaune looks wary, but resigned, like a man being led to the gallows. “Is that…” His hands clench at his sides, and he looks away. “Is that why you let me into Beacon, even though I lied?”

Jaune lied to get into a Huntsman Academy? It seems trivial in the face of immortal witches and the creators of gods, but from the swell of regret and understanding he feels from Ozpin, clearly this is something that weighs heavily on Jaune’s mind.

“No, I did not know,” Ozpin replies. Oscar can feel how hard that is for the old man to admit. “I knew of the fairy tale, of course, but I had no idea that it was true.” He chuckles. “Even by my standards, it’s quite fantastical.” Jaune  nods, but doesn’t laugh, and Ozpin sobers.

“As for your second question, it’s true that I knew you falsified your transcripts. However-” Jaune tenses, bracing for a blow. Ozpin’s expression softens. “However, your drive to make a difference, the lengths you must’ve gone to and the ingenuity needed to acquire those transcripts… Not to mention the way you inspired and led your teammates during initiation.” 

Jaune shrugs. “I mostly just got in their way.”

Ozpin smiles. “That may be so, but those traits are what convinced me to grant you entry to my school, and to make you the leader of your team. Your own bravery and drive. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Jaune nods, slowly. He doesn’t look like he believes him. Jaune starts to speak, and Oscar hates the familiar surprise at the sound of his own voice. "Would you have told me? If you'd known?" he asks, and Oscar can feel Ozpin hesitate.

"On the contrary, if I had known I never would've let you enter Beacon.” Ozpin’s voice is grave, and he meets Jaune’s eye when he looks up, clearly surprised. “I would’ve tried to convince you to spend more time with your family, to live life away from battle.” 

“I have never claimed to be without flaws, but…” Ozpin’s hand rests on the familiar weight of his cane, and Oscar can feel a wellspring of guilt in the old man’s chest. “...if I had known, I would’ve tried to save you from the fate that was forced upon me, upon Oscar.”

Hazel eyes meet blue. Too old, too young, and Oscar hates the understanding that he sees in them. “To live beyond your years is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy,” Ozpin says, “You deserved better than the cards you’ve been dealt, Mr. Arc, and for that I am deeply sorry.”

Blue eyes widen, suddenly bright with tears, Jaune’s breath hitches, and Ozpin retreats, relinquishing control back to Oscar. He rushes forward and then hesitates, remembering Jaune’s initial reaction.

But then his brother meets his eyes, (too young, too old, too familiar) and Oscar closes the distance.

So much has changed and would never be the same again, but Jaune’s hugs are still warm and all-encompassing. Even when he’s shaking with relieved sobs.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it back to you guys,” Jaune chokes out.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Oscar murmurs into his chest, and Jaune sobs. He’s here. He’s here. Oscar’s not sure if he’s convincing himself or his brother.

“How do you deal with it?” And neither of them need clarification of what he’s talking about. Feeling out of time, feeling wrong in your own body, feeling like you’ve lost time you’ll never get back.

Now faced with the reason he hung behind, Oscar doesn’t know what to say. A lie or the truth? Comfort or pain?

“By being with my friends,” Oscar replies, and he wishes it was more reassuring, wishes it was that simple. Lies and platitudes. Like minded souls indeed.

But from how Jaune nods holds him tighter, like a drowning man clutching a rope in a storm, maybe it is. Maybe it is enough.