The Aviery Inn… Mistral… Tuesday Evening…
Qrow pushed open the heavy wooden door of the inn, pausing for a moment and assessing the common room with his gaze. It wasn't too crowded yet, but this wasn't the only inn on this level, so it wasn't like a small village where the inn was the only social place to gather and drink in the evenings. It was a typical mid-level Mistral inn – flagstone floors of native stone joined together with mortar made from the sand and dirt where the stone had been quarried from. The walls were stone with wooden wainscotting stretching from the floor to halfway up the wall and hung with hunting trophies and banners. There was a partial upper floor – more like a balcony – which covered about half the room and was supported by thick wooden pillars.
The building stretched further than it appeared from the front door, since there was a hallway that would lead back to private parlors that could be rented out, as well as a few rooms for travelers. The kitchen and storage rooms would also either be off that hallway, or in a basement below to keep the booze cold.
Qrow looked around again before making his way over to the bar. The bartender – who was probably the owner – nodded at him, and Qrow nodded back. "I'll have a whiskey on the rocks," Qrow said. "Do you have any private parlors available to rent for the evening?"
"I do," the bartender replied, turning to the wall of bottles behind him and pulling one down, beginning to prepare Qrow's drink.
"Great." Qrow tossed a Lien card on the counter. "For the parlor, my drink, and two dinners." It was more than enough to cover everything, since there was a chance that his conversation with Raven might end up being lengthy and he'd need alcohol to get through it.
"Sure thing." The bartender placed the drink on the bar and pulled a ring of keys from his belt. "This way."
Qrow scooped up his drink and followed the owner towards a door near the back. Exactly as he'd thought, it led to a long hallway lined with wooden doors, and a staircase at the far end that would lead up to the bedrooms for rent. The bartender stopped at one door and unlocked it. Qrow followed him in and waited as he lit the lamps on the wall.
It wasn't much – there was room for a table with two padded wooden chairs, a sideboard for dishes, and a low couch for more comfortable seating. But then, Qrow didn't really need much else. Just getting Raven to agree to meet him here was a victory of its own.
"Dinner tonight is a beef and potato soup with fresh baked bread and fruit salad," the innkeeper said. "Did you want to order now?"
"Not just yet. My companion should be here soon, though and I know she'll want to order a drink too," Qrow replied, pulling Harbinger from its place at his back and leaning it up against one arm of the couch as he dropped into a sprawl on the cushion.
The innkeeper nodded and left the room, pulling the door closed behind himself. Qrow waited until he could faintly hear the man's footsteps walking away before reaching for his scroll and opening his messages.
Qrow
I'm in Mistral. I've got a private parlor rented at an inn for us. It's safe to portal in.
For once, he got a nearly immediate response from his sister.
Raven
Fine. I'll be there shortly.
He was tempted to send a smartass remark back to her but restrained himself. The last thing he wanted was for her to change her mind and not come to meet him.
He had spent the last three days while en route to Mistral thinking about everything that the kid had said – and the things he'd implied. He still didn't want to believe that Raven would agree to side with Salem, even incidentally. They'd both seen and experienced too much on their missions for Oz before Raven had run. They both knew the danger that Salem represented to the people of Remnant.
Not that Raven generally gave much care to the people of Remnant these days – bandits who preyed on the innocent weren't the type to worry about the people they attacked and stole from, after all. It was one of the things about his sister's decision that he most disapproved of. They'd spent years training at Beacon to protect the people, they'd taken countless missions both in training and as professionals working for Oz to achieve that same goal. Qrow didn't like to think that all of that effort had been a waste of time in Raven's mind. He didn't want to think that badly of his twin.
No, he was certain of it. This Raven – the Raven who had fled after Yang was born – wasn't the same Raven he had grown up with, been a member of team STRQ with… something had changed, he just didn't know what, but he was willing to bet that Ozpin knew more than he was telling. More than once over the last sixteen years he'd pressed the Headmaster for details about the last argument that he and Raven had had before she'd fled, and every time Ozpin had only said simply, "I won't divulge her secrets, Qrow. Even to you."
It was frustrating, working with limited information. He understood why Oz preferred to compartmentalize information related to Salem of course – a limited circle of information meant fewer opportunities for sensitive information to leak out to Salem's minions or Salem herself. But this was his sister, his twin. He couldn't do anything to help her if he didn't know what was going on with her. Sure, she could be stubborn and reluctant to accept help from anyone – especially him, given his track record with his Semblance – but given enough time, he was certain he could wear her down.
There was a familiar hum of energy in the air, and he looked up to see a black hole opening in the middle of the small room, edged in shifting, angry-looking red energy. A moment later, Raven stepped through, a white helmet with vague, Grimm-like designs in red painted on it over her face, her massive sword and its Dust-blade sheath attached to her belt at her hip.
Qrow raised his glass to her. "Raven. It's good to see you. Thanks for meeting me."
Raven's fist clenched slightly, and the portal closed behind her with a low thrumming sound. "Brother." Her head turned slightly, inspecting the room, before she brought her hands up and removed her helmet, shaking her long black hair out of her face. "Still drinking I see."
"Some days it's the only way to make it through," Qrow smirked at her. "I already paid for dinner for the two of us. We just need to ring for the innkeeper and let him know we're ready."
She scoffed. "I hope you didn't text me just because you wanted to have dinner." She looked around again.
Qrow rubbed his hand over his eyes as he moved to the door and pulled on the cord that would let the innkeeper know they needed something. "No, of course not. I need to talk to you about something important, but airship food isn't the best. Figured we might as well be comfortable while we talk."
Raven moved to take a seat as the innkeeper entered in response to Qrow's ring. If he was surprised to see Raven, he didn't show it. Qrow nodded at him. "We'll take those dinners now, whenever they're ready."
"Sure – five minutes," the innkeeper replied. He glanced at Raven. "Would you like something to drink, ma'am?"
Raven sighed. "Red wine."
The innkeeper nodded and left the room. Qrow moved to join his sister at the table, frowning at the helmet she'd put down on the surface. "A Grimm helmet? Really?"
"What do you want, Brother?" Raven asked, ignoring the question. "What was so urgent that you needed to see me?"
Qrow rubbed the back of his neck as he sat down. "I need you to come back to Beacon with me."
Raven glared at him and started to reach for her helmet, her red eyes flashing with anger. "I already told you it wasn't happening. If you wasted my time and dragged me here –"
"Just – wait," Qrow replied, interrupting her. "Don't leave, Raven. Let me explain – please."
Anima countryside…
"This looks like a safe spot to stop for the night, don't you think?" Nora asked, dropping her hammer so that the head rested on the ground as she leaned against the handle.
Ren glanced around as well. "It seems as good as any. We could keep going, but we probably won't reach another village before sunset."
"I'll get firewood if you want to find a safe place to set up camp," Nora offered. She shrugged her small pack off her back and dropped it on the ground as she picked her hammer up and collapsed it into its grenade launcher form before securing it on her back.
Ren nodded and picked up her dropped pack, moving towards the trees to investigate a fallen tree. Nora thought she knew what he was thinking but decided not to say anything and just do her part. She headed off at an angle, already looking for a small quantity of firewood – they wouldn't need a lot, since it would be too dangerous to keep a fire going all night when Grimm could be anywhere, but they needed enough for Ren to make dinner for the two of them. She was also keeping an eye out for early fallen leaves and heavily scented plants they could tuck into their bedding to mask their very human body odors.
It took a few trips to find everything, but by the time she returned with her final armload, Ren had their makeshift campsite set up. A small fire was going and heating the small skillet, and Ren was lying half in, half out of a shallow ditch in the ground under the fallen tree. Nora carried her load over to him. "Here Ren, I found some leaves for extra padding under the sleeping bags."
Ren crawled backwards out of the ditch to give her room and Nora crawled in while he went to check the fire. She used the leaves she'd found to create a sort of mattress between the ground and the sleeping bags – not that both of them would sleep at the same time when they weren't safe in a village. Instead, one of them would sleep while the other kept watch and then they'd switch at midnight, so whoever was sleeping would have a comfortable bed of leaves and two sleeping bags, securely hidden under the tree for camouflage.
By the time she had everything arranged – with the strongly scented plants she'd gathered tucked into the bedding as well – and crawled back out, Ren was using some of their supplies to make a small batch of pancakes. They'd bartered well at the last village – trading work for a cast iron skillet and a quantity of food, so for once they wouldn't just be making do with whatever they could gather or hunt before sunset.
"It's probably still two weeks until we get to a port where we can find an airship to take us to Sanus," Ren commented as he flipped one of the pancakes.
"We'll find another village soon and we should be able to do a little work for some money so we can afford tickets," Nora said optimistically. "There's always something needing doing, after all."
Ren nodded and fell back to his usual silence as he continued to make dinner. Nora helped where she could by finding their tiny bottle of syrup – one of the delicacies that they'd traded for two villages ago – and keeping an eye out for any stray Grimm that might be attracted by the fire or the smell of food.
"Are you sure we should try to get in at Beacon?"
Nora glanced over at him. They'd been together for so long, and Ren had agreed with her that getting into an Academy would be a good next step for them – they couldn't continue to randomly wander between villages and barter work for the things they needed to survive forever, after all. At least as a Huntsman and Huntress they would be able to take legitimate jobs and earn actual lien. "What do you mean?"
"Haven is closer. It wouldn't take as long or be as risky to try to make our way all the way to Vale when we could just turn around and go back to Mistral," Ren replied, stacking the final pancake on one of their two plates before handing one to her. "If we don't manage to earn enough money to get tickets to Sanus in time, we may end up missing out on the day for the entrance exam."
"We can do it!" Nora declared. "We haven't failed at anything we've tried yet, so I know we'll make it in time!"
Ren nodded and turned his attention to his dinner, so Nora did the same. He always made such good pancakes, and they got them so rarely, so they were worth savoring. But they couldn't take forever to eat, since they still needed to clean everything up and extinguish the fire before it got too late.
"I'll take first watch," Ren offered as the last of the food disappeared.
"I'll go clean everything up," Nora replied. "There was a small stream about fifty yards that way," she pointed into the trees. Ren nodded and Nora took both plates and her small pack – she wanted to get a quick wash herself before settling in to sleep for her shift. Once she was done, she could keep an eye on the camp so Ren could wash up too.
By the time she came back, Ren had scouted out a place in one of the trees with a large branch he could sit on. It was away from their small sleeping hole, so it wouldn't draw attention if a Grimm happened along, but Ren would have an elevated view to be able to keep an eye on the surrounding area. He nodded at her as she returned and went to his pack to gather his things so he could wash up. Nora checked to make sure the fire had been fully extinguished and scattered so that it wouldn't be apparent that anyone was here.
Ren returned shortly and smiled. "Goodnight, Nora."
"Goodnight, Ren," Nora replied, heading for their sleeping spot. She dropped down to her belly and wriggled under the fallen tree, twisting to pull a thin screen of loose branches over the entrance to hide her from a casual glance. She burrowed into one of the sleeping bags and pulled a few of the loose leaves and scented herbs over the top of the bag for a little extra warmth.
Tomorrow was a new day, and another step on their journey to try to reach Vale. She would need to sleep, but it was hard to sleep when Ren was on watch – she much preferred the nights when they could find a village inn and exchange some cleaning or dishwashing for a space on the floor in the inn's common room and she could hear his gentle breathing. They'd been together for so long, and Nora couldn't imagine not being with Ren. Whatever happened, they'd always be "Ren-and-Nora" – and for now that had to be enough. Once they were enrolled at Beacon, maybe they would finally have a chance to become more.
She buried her nose into the sleeping bag beneath her, catching the faintest whiff of Ren in the fabric. It wasn't the same as having him beside her, but it would do.
Mistral…
"I don't believe you," Raven hissed, pressing both palms into the table, and pushing herself to her feet. "Tricking me into meeting you here…"
"Raven, come on! Just listen to me for a few minutes, let me explain!" Qrow replied. "We may actually have a chance to turn the tide against her for the first time in a long time. We've got new information, and that's why I came to find you."
"I told Oz I was done with his whole impossible war with Salem. I don't care and I'm not helping him."
"I'm not asking you to, Raven," Qrow cried, frustrated with his sister's stubbornness as he slammed his whiskey glass on the table. "I'm asking you to sit down and just listen."
There was a knock on the door and both of them stopped as the door swung open and the innkeeper entered the room with a covered tray. He set it on the sideboard and uncovered it, revealing two plates of food and a glass of red wine for Raven. He placed the dishes in front of them before glancing between them. "Is there anything else I can get you?"
"Just some privacy for now," Qrow replied. "We'll ring or come out ourselves if we need anything else."
The innkeeper nodded and left the room. As soon as the door was closed and Qrow could hear footsteps moving away, he looked back at Raven. "Will you just sit down and eat and let me explain?"
Raven narrowed her eyes and Qrow met her angry gaze with his own. He was determined not to give in to her – Raven was notoriously stubborn, but she was also his twin, and he knew he could get through to her if he didn't back down. It was something he'd learned from Summer back when they'd all been part of Team STRQ – sometimes you have to stay firm in the face of opposition.
By their very nature, the tribe moved quickly – taking what they could and fleeing before villagers could mount a defense or the Grimm could arrive. That's why their attacks on villages were called 'raids', after all. While they would willingly cut down any single person who tried to stand against them, a united force of determined villagers would be harder to oppose, so the tribe didn't bother if it came to that part. Raven had been part of the tribe for so much longer, Qrow knew that her instinct would be to run if her views were challenged while she was already on the defensive. But if he could get her to calm down, she'd be more inclined to hear him out.
Qrow held Raven's angry gaze with his own, determined not to back down this time. She might be older and possibly stubborner, but he had the kid's words of the future in his mind, and he wasn't going to let those things come to pass – wasn't going to see his sister turn traitor and help Salem, even if it was just to protect herself. Not when the fate of Remnant could hang in the balance.
Finally – after far too long a wait, Raven sighed and sat down again. She folded her arms over her chest, her glare not lessening in the slightest. "This had better be good. You have until I'm done eating to explain and then I'm gone." She turned her attention to her plate, picking up the utensils and beginning her soup.
Qrow sighed. "Fine. Look, it's not that hard. We've got some new information, and a new…" he paused to consider his words carefully, knowing that Oz wouldn't want Oscar's origin to be revealed far and wide, especially with Raven's loyalty in question, "…informant, who knows a lot about Salem's upcoming plans."
Raven snorted, even as she raised her spoon towards her lips. "Say that with any more confidence and I might start to believe you, Brother."
"Look, Oz is keeping this close to the chest for now. If the information proves to be true, we will gain a massive advantage over Salem," Qrow replied. "We'll know her plans and we'll be able to actually prevent them, instead of just reacting to them."
"So, nothing has changed then," Raven said flatly. "Oz is still hiding things, still pulling people in to fight an impossible war against an enemy that can't be beaten." She put her spoon down. "Doesn't sound to me like anything has changed in the past decade." Her lips twisted into a sneer. "Not that I expect him to be able to change, given how long he's lived."
"You're wrong, Raven. You keep forgetting that Ozpin has to look at the big picture – he has to concern himself with the small details of individuals and the larger picture of all four Kingdoms," Qrow scowled. Why was she being so stubborn?
"So, what are these plans that Ozpin's informant somehow knows about?" Raven replied skeptically.
Qrow considered how much to tell her. "An attack on the next Vytal Festival and the CCT towers," he finally said. "That's all I can tell you at the moment, but apparently, Salem has someone working for her who is going to try to steal the powers of the Maidens."
There was a slight flicker in Raven's expression at that – something that would have been curious if he hadn't heard from Oscar that Raven knew where the Spring Maiden was and was keeping her at the tribe's camp. But Qrow knew why. Since the tribe's leadership was based on power – or the perceived appearance of power, anyway – the one who was either the strongest, or who had the strongest allies would be the ranking leader of the tribe. Having a Maiden as an ally, combined with Raven's training at Beacon and her noteworthy skill as a fighter herself would make her a strong contender for a leadership position within the tribe. If she wasn't already a leader among the bandits, she would be soon – Qrow had little doubt about that.
If Cerelia – or Vernal, as Oscar had named her – was with the tribe, and was in fact Raven's ally, Raven would want to protect her, at least until her position as leader was secure. Maidens were powerful, yes, but they were also still human, and it was possible for them to be taken down if overwhelmed by Grimm or others – that had been proven more than once before throughout history, hence the reason for Oz deciding that it was better to allow the Maidens to fade into legend by encouraging them to keep their powers secret.
Raven knew that as well as anyone else who had been inducted into Oz's circle. That might be a way to get her back on their side – he'd have to make a point to mention that to Oz when he got back to Beacon. Although, knowing Oz like he did, the old wizard would deduce that for himself easily enough.
"And who is this 'informant'?" Raven asked cynically. "How do you – or Ozpin for that matter – know that he or she can be trusted? If Salem intends to attack during a Vytal Festival, why didn't she attack during the one that just finished?"
"I don't know," Qrow admitted. "Maybe because the next Festival is at Beacon, and we know Salem would want to bring Beacon down before any of the other Academies since Oz is there? It would be a huge play on her parts, but you know as well as I do how much respect Oz has in all four Kingdoms, even though only a few of us know the truth. Taking out Beacon, taking out Oz? That would be a blow that would be difficult to recover from."
Raven snorted through her nose.
"Look, Raven - I'm not asking you to fight with us again – although I think you should, since Salem won't stand a chance if we're all united against her – I'm just asking you to come back to Beacon with me and talk to Oz."
She hissed angrily. "I have no intention of ever speaking to him again."
"Will you stop interrupting and just listen?" Qrow snapped. "I don't know what the hell your problem with Oz is, Raven. He refuses to tell me, and believe me, I have asked, because I want to know what is going on in your head, but I respect his decision and he has respected yours."
"You don't know what my problem with him is?" Raven snapped. "How about the fact that he's been lying to us for years? How about the fact that Salem can't be defeated, and he simply grooms students to be fodder in his war against her? For all his talk about peace and humanity, he is as much to blame for what is happening as she is."
Qrow growled and was about to make a sarcastic retort, but Ozpin's words from three days ago surfaced again.
"If you threaten her or pressure her, it could push her away from us even more, and sooner than its supposed to happen. You're still her brother, and you're still important to her – you may have the best chance of getting through to her."
He took a slow breath to calm his temper. "Look, Raven. I don't want to argue with you about this. I don't know why you think that, but whatever problem you have with Oz, you need to talk to him about it. I'm not going to theorize about her plans until I know more, but Ozpin has spent the last three days with the informant while I was making my way here. Oz asked me to invite you back just to have a peaceful conversation with him – no tricks. Once you're done talking, you'll be free to leave." He gave her an intense look. "At least let him tell you what he knows. Salem might be inclined to leave the tribe alone for now, but sooner or later you're going to have to make a choice, because she is going to come after you."
There was one last thing he could try. "Oz wanted me to tell you that he values you as a person, not just as someone capable of fighting. Whatever that means as it relates to your argument with him…" he shrugged.
Raven's blood-red eyes, so like Yang's when she was angry or using her Semblance, glared at him. Qrow wasn't sure which decision she would make, but he hoped she would at least agree to come back and talk to Ozpin, even if she didn't end up staying and fighting.
"Raven, please."
"One of you is going to tell me what you know. I don't much care if it is you or Ozma. Either way, I'll finally have the Relic."
Oscar wheezed, his chest aching and burning from where she'd struck him with the colorful burst of magic. Oz was quiet in the back of his mind. "I won't tell you anything," he managed with all the resolve he could muster in his somewhat breathless voice.
Salem looked amused when she turned back to face him. "Hmm."
The door behind her opened with a wet squelching sound and Hazel stepped through. Memories of Haven Academy flashed through Oscar's mind. "Hazel?" he asked as the mountain of a man approached, slamming one fist into the palm of the other hand. "Wait, wait!" he managed just before that fist slammed into his chest, right at the same spot where Salem's magic had struck him. All the oxygen rushed out of his lungs explosively, and he choked as he tried desperately to inhale and get air back into his lungs.
"That was for Haven Academy." A solid kick impacted his sternum next sending him flying across the room. "Everything that follows will be from my sister."
Blow after blow rained down upon him. It was hard to find a moment to get a single clean breath pulled into his lungs before another blow knocked it back out. The pain was so intense that he couldn't pinpoint exactly where it hurt the most, because the slightest movement caused the pain to ripple down his entire body.
He was going to die here. Fifteen years old, stuck hosting the disembodied soul of an ancient wizard, his life was going to end in this foul-smelling place, beat to death by a furious man with a grudge against said ancient wizard for something that had probably happened before Oscar was even born. How was that fair?
Another kick, another explosive exhale as the air was driven out of his lungs. He lay on the ground, trying and failing to suck air into his abused chest. Once again, a massive hand came down and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, lifting him off the ground and shaking him like he was a dog, making his head ring and his vision tunnel white with sparks at the edges.
Hazel was saying something, but Oscar couldn't make it out due to the ringing in his ears. Then, one hand still holding him in mid-air, the other massive hand closed around his throat and began to squeeze, cutting off any chance Oscar had to pull air into his lungs.
Oscar clawed desperately at Hazel's hand, but the big man didn't even flinch, his inability to feel pain making Oscar's attempts no more than a minor papercut.
He couldn't breathe…. HE COULDN'T BREATHE!!!
Oscar's eyes shot open, and he couldn't breathe. Something was pressed over his nose and mouth and preventing him from pulling air into his lungs. He clawed at whatever it was, feeling something soft and yielding, but at the same time, he felt light-headed as he desperately tried to free his face. It was Hazel – it had to be! Somehow Hazel had found him and was making good on his promise to kill Oz over and over again!
His nails dug into the soft substance over his face and with a final desperate effort, he pulled with all his strength, bucking upward as he did so. The soft substance fell away with the motions, and he was able to suck in a clear, full breath greedily. He shot upright, gasping for breath, his chest aching as he struggled to calm himself. At any moment he expected to feel Hazel's hand around his throat again.
He felt light-headed and dizzy, and he closed his eyes trying to make the world stop spinning around himself. One breath, another, and slowly the ache in his chest began to fade. As the pain faded and his breathing eased, he risked opening his eyes again, wondering if he would be greeted by the sight of Hazel or Salem.
Instead, he saw only a wall with the vague shape of a framed picture right across from him. The room was too dark to make out details, but not seeing one of their enemies helped to calm his panic further and he realized that he was sitting up in a bed, his hands fisted at his sides in the sheets and blankets.
Another slow, deep breath and he managed to unclench his hands, which shook uncontrollably from the adrenaline that was still rushing through him. It had just been a nightmare.
He could breathe.
He was alone.
He was in his room at Beacon Tower.
He was safe.
Something damp slid down his cheeks and he blinked as he realized that he was crying. Shaking hands came up to scrub at his face, trying to wipe the tears away, but they kept coming as his body and emotions continued to react to whatever that had been. His breath hitched again – whether from the emotions that were cascading through him or the lingering physical panic and ache in his chest, he couldn't be sure.
Salem and Hazel weren't here. They'd never been to Beacon Tower, even from what he knew about the Fall from his friends. That was good. That meant that he was safe. If they weren't here, there was still time to change things. It had just been his own mind playing tricks on him. He could deal with it.
He could.
He wiped at his face more vigorously, dragging the sleeve of his nightshirt across his eyes and nose repeatedly until he couldn't feel any more tears on his cheeks. He looked at the tangled mess of his blankets and realized that he must have burrowed into the bedding and pulled the blankets tightly across his face as he slept. Combined with the nightmare, it was no wonder he'd woken up in a panic, unable to breathe through the fabric.
He sniffed and untangled himself, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and getting shakily to his feet. He had to brace himself against the bed frame for a few steps until he was certain that the world had stopped spinning and he wouldn't fall as he made his way towards the bathroom. A glass of water would help him calm down further and then he could untangle his bedding and try to get a little more sleep before Ozpin woke up. The day before hadn't been too exciting – Ozpin had his duties to the Academy and the Council, after all, so Oscar had spent the day reading some of his new books and had also taken a few short walks down to the courtyard and back, trying to build his stamina back up. Another few days of similar walks, and he thought that maybe he could move at a faster pace and try to make his way down to the edge of the ferry landing and back.
It wasn't as exciting as watching RWBY and JNR head off on missions or going down to the Atlas Academy training rooms to work on his combat and physical skills had been, but as frustrating as it was, he knew he still wasn't ready for that level of activity.
He caught himself on the edge of the counter as he stepped into the dark bathroom, still feeling shaky and even a little nauseous now. He turned on the faucet and cupped his hand under the cool water, filling his palm before bringing it to his lips. Three more similar sips and he was able to turn the flow of water off, before running his wet hand over his face, cooling his skin where it felt hot from his panic and tears.
Gripping the counter again he just stood in the darkness and breathed. It had all been a dream. He could go back to his room, fix his bedding, and fall asleep again. There was nothing to be afraid of. Salem and Hazel weren't in his room, they wouldn't be attacking him. His bed was soft and warm, and there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just his mind playing tricks on him.
Everything was fine.
Turning, he made his way back into his room by feel and found the bedframe again. He wasn't usually a restless sleeper, so he wasn't sure how he'd managed to snarl his blankets up so badly. It took several minutes of wrestling with the covers before he had them straightened out and smoothed back over the mattress. His pillow had somehow gotten wedged into the small gap between the frame and the mattress, and he retrieved it and fluffed it up with a few shakes. Slowly, he put the pillow down and sat on the edge of the bed, hesitant to bring his feet back up.
It was just a bed. It couldn't hurt him.
It had just been a nightmare. He was in a secure building, in a secure apartment, in his own room. Ozpin was just two rooms away, but no one was getting into the apartment without Ozpin's approval – the security was too high.
He was safe.
He could sleep some more.
Slowly, he brought his feet up and slid them beneath the covers. Normally, he'd pull the blankets up to his chin, liking the warmth on his neck rather than any cool draft that might tease against his skin, but he couldn't bring himself to pull the blankets up that close to his face this time. Not after what had just happened.
But it was okay.
I'm safe.
Everything was fine.
Oscar closed his eyes and lay there, fists clenched in the edge of the blanket, trying to relax enough to fall back asleep. Just a nightmare, he told himself over and over again.