Hi, anon! No idea if this is what you wanted to see in terms of “intense,” but I supposed it’s something lol

Ruby could vividly remember the first time she’d heard Uncle Qrow yell. It had stuck with her, like a thorn in her side, so very different from Dad’s anger because Dad was, well…Dad. He was supposed to get mad at the messes they made and snap when they snuck out of bed. It always felt like that was just a part of being a parent, one microscopic aspect alongside laughing at their antics, crying over growth, getting frustrated when chores weren’t done, or fussing over skinned knees. Dad had a range, whereas Uncle Qrow was only ever Kind. Yes, Ruby capitalized it in her head, like it was something proper and rare. Uncle Qrow was Kind, made up of little more than unexpected gifts and rambunctious teasing. He never stayed long enough to be anything else. She couldn’t imagine Uncle Qrow telling them to do the dishes or planting them in time-out for the fifth time that day. He arrived to play video games and feed them the sweets Dad hid up in the top cupboard. What else were uncles for?

So when a yell had finally ripped from him it settled somewhere in Ruby’s core, taking up residence there without permission. It didn’t matter that it had only been in fear—Ruby young and sheltered, toddling towards the grimm that looked remarkably like a dog. Uncle Qrow had raised his voice at her and from that moment on was no longer just Kind.

Which was good. People didn’t work that way. They didn’t have one, simple setting.

So why had she thought Professor Ozpin did?

“What’s wrong with you?”



It wasn’t even a yell, but his tone…

The words sounded familiar to Ruby and with a jolt she remembered that Yang had asked him the same thing, all the way back in Haven. What’s wrong with you? she’d spit when Ozpin revealed the impossible fact that he’d turned their uncle into a bird. What’s wrong with you? and all he’d had for her was a smile, a promise, and an apology. Accusations rolled off him like water, as Ruby had once thought they should. She’d remembered thinking, vaguely, Yes. This is a leader.

Ozpin didn’t have any kind words now.

He’d caught the punch Qrow threw at him, Oscar’s small hand still managing to twist and fling Qrow’s off to the side. As he stumbled away Ozpin got one shaking leg underneath him and finally raised his head.

Ruby took an instinctual step back.

The tears were still there and yes, he was smiling, but neither of those detracted from the outright fury in his eyes. His smile looked wrong there. Just as quick as she’d stepped back Ruby wanted to move forward again; wipe that look off his face and, despite everything she’d learned, replace it with a single emotion: anger or grief or something like pleasure. Something simple. Because this mix wasn’t anything she knew how to deal with.

Yang didn’t agree.

“What’s wrong with us?” she hissed, brushing right past a stunned Qrow to get up in Ozpin’s face. She towered over him and yet Ruby was more intimidated by how confidently Ozpin stared up into her eyes. He didn’t give an inch, even when Yang got close enough for spit to fly in his face and her breath to warm up his cheeks. “You’re the liar here! Or are we just supposed to ignore the fact that my mom was right?”

“Did you know there’s a recording of when you lost your arm?”

Yang snapped her mouth shut, momentarily thrown by the non sequitur. Ozpin nodded. “Oh yes. We’ve already established that I have trouble trusting people,” his mouth twisted. “So do you really think there weren’t cameras all over Beacon? Cinder managed to hack them briefly, but the material was all preserved. Qrow gave me access the moment I returned to Haven. Shall I bring the clip up now? I’m sure I have my scroll here somewhere…”

Ozpin didn’t reach for his pocket. He didn’t have to. Yang had gone as white as the snow at the mere suggestion. Ozpin’s gaze brush past her and landed on Blake.

“I believe I also have a recording of a certain conversation with Ms. Belladonna. Do you remember? I asked why you wore that silly bow; why hide who you are? The answer wasn’t important. The fact that you felt like you needed to was enough and I gave you the space to keep your secrets. Foolish of me, wasn’t it?”

Blake’s lips parted like she wanted to voice a protest and instead just ended up curling in on herself. Yang recovered fast and got between them, sparks dancing on the edge of her hair.

“Blake being a faunus didn’t get anyone killed!”

“No,” Ozpin agreed. For the first time his voice cracked and a bit of the anger seeped away. “Is that your threshold then, Ms. Xiao-Long? We can keep our secrets provided that they have no potential to spiral out of our control, resulting in things we never foresaw or intended? Ah, but then perhaps I should have demanded that Ms. Belladonna explain her origins after all. Such a personal connection to the White Fang is no simple offense. She might have put all of you in great danger, including a child who I was personally responsible for…”

Ozpin’s eyes met Ruby’s. She couldn’t hold them for more than a second.

“I’m not being fair though,” he continued, voice flat. Dead. “I do believe there are also recordings of a party Ms. Schnee attended a few weeks back. Shall we all watch together how her father treats her within the safety of Atlas? How she summoned a boarbatusk and may well have killed a civilian if James hadn’t been there to stop it? Am I allowed to force her to re-live that moment simply because I have the means to?” Ozpin’s gaze snapped to Qrow, ignoring Weiss’ flinch. “Your dear uncle felt strongly that neither of you should ever know about his semblance or the magic I gave him. But ah, we’ve already established how important information is to you all. Perhaps I should have told you, regardless of what a betrayal would have done to him.”

Ozpin tilted his head to the sky. Eyes closed now, snow mixing with what was left of his tears. His whole body shook.

“Of course, you know all these secrets already,” he said, so quietly that Ruby had to strain to hear him. “Ms. Xiao-Long has shared her trauma with you. Ms. Belladonna her heritage. Ms. Schnee told you all about that awful dinner party. My dear Qrow, you finally found the nerve to tell your nieces everything—even if unfortunate circumstances forced your hand. I’ve given you nothing new… and yet, somehow I don’t think any of you would be eager to watch those moments play out on my scroll. So tell me, what exactly gave you to right to watch all of that!”

Ozpin jerked back and slashed his hand in the air, encompassing everything that Jinn had shown them. Ruby felt a sting against her cheek as some of his aura followed the gesture. It split, a small trickle of blood running down into the corner of her mouth.

“Please tell me, does that help you all be better protectors of humanity? Did it sate your curiosity? To watch my former love try to kill herself over and over again? To watch her murder my children—”

“It was me.”

Ruby blurted it without meaning to, but once she did she was stumbling towards him, the relic held out as a measly, pathetic offering. Ozpin didn’t take it. “I asked the question and I’m sorry. Sir. I didn’t think…”

Didn’t think it would be like this. But Ruby couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Surprisingly, Ozpin nodded. His eyes even softened a bit and when he reached out to rub the blood away his hand, though trembling, was gentle. “You didn’t think,” he agreed. “You didn’t think about what might happen if you asked your question, beyond the assumption that you’d finally get what you wanted. But what’s the cost, Ms. Rose? That’s all I ever do. For thousands of years now. I think and I weigh the cost of things. Sometimes I think long and hard enough that I hit on the right answer. Other times? …Well.”

Ozpin’s hand dropped. He spread them out at his sides, a gesture of vulnerability. “Do you still want to hit me, Qrow?”

Slowly, he shook his head.

As quick as it had come the anger was gone. As was the smile. Grief was the only thing left and Ruby revised her original thought. This wasn’t better.

“Okay then,” Ozpin whispered and turned his back on them. He began moving forward, not looking for who—if any—bothered to follow.