Chapter Text
Oscar tried really hard not to think about it.
After that first couple of weeks of Oz explaining what was happening to the two (-is it even two, how many people is he?) of them. That Oz’s soul was intertwined with his own. That their memories would combine. That Oscar's thoughts were no longer just his own.
At first, he would always be pulled out of the more concerning spirals of thoughts by his new… companion. Telling him that it wasn’t that bad. He’s overthinking it. That Oscar was only going to make himself sick by worrying like this.
Try not to think about it.
Oscar wasn’t really sure if that was one of his own thoughts or Ozpin’s.
The fear began to creep back when Oscar saw Jinn’s story. That Ozma’s first incarnation just- disappeared. Sure- some of it was quelled by the fact that Oscar saw some of them having their own lives but- where he was now, could he even have his own life at this point? He was fourteen and dragged on this… doomed war. Salem couldn’t die, Oscar realized that he was just sentenced to be part of the cycle. To live a life slowly taken over by another and then left to live forever without rest in the boundless cacophony of Oz’s soul. To never live his own life but also to never die.
When Oz disappeared it was strange. After so long of sharing a headspace it was so- quiet. Along with the stark reality that the others had begun to pull away from him because he “was Oz” was… scary. Did they… did they really see them both as the same? Or at the very least interchangeable?
“I’m just going to become another one of his lives, aren’t I?” Oscar murmured, taking a grip on his cane.
Ruby’s expression softened, “of course not, you’re your own person.” She reassured, resting her hands on his, a small breath of warmth in the numbing cold that was starting to overtake Oscar.
“Don’t lie to him, Ruby,” Qrow pushed past them, “we’re better than that.”
Oscar snatched the cane from Ruby’s hand, trying to follow the others while keeping a distance from everyone else.
No. No. I’m not him. I’m not him. I’m not him.
There was no one to stop him thinking about it.
Oscar was glad he never voiced his darker thoughts when they left the influence of the Apathy. Standing in that house, in that courtyard, with the knowledge that he was slowly disappearing, that one day the thoughts that had some separation now would be one mind. How he would be gone but never rest. Oscar didn’t want to deal with that. He didn’t want anything to do with this. But he also didn’t want to fight it. Like fighting for his fruitless and ultimately doomed self-identity wasn’t worth it. Even if Oz wasn’t here, maybe he could just- disappear too.
But no. No that wasn’t right. “Like-minded soul” his ass, Oscar wasn’t much of a speaker but if anything he was ready to do something- anything that was worthwhile and just. Saving the world definitely wasn’t what he saw in his wheelhouse at first but now it was stuck on him and giving up wasn’t really part of his character.
He was still scared though.
Every once in awhile he’d pause and stare down at himself and notice things he hadn’t done before. Like lean on Ozma’s cane when he had it extended, or the way more concise words seemed to come to him more naturally. He’d stop and think: I didn’t use to do that- and a jolt of panic would fire through his nerves, making his hands shake and his fingers feel numb. When things felt familiar, when he recalled fuzzy information Oscar was certain he was never told, it made his stomach drop every single time.
“-we’re not the bad guys here.” Oscar implored the group, finding his tongue feeling like lead as the words left his mouth. Yet again, he’s speaking up when he wouldn’t normally.
“You sure about that?” Jaune asked coldly, his back turned.
Oscar’s mouth felt dry, “w-what?”
“He’s in your head, isn’t he?” Oscar’s skin felt numb as Jaune approached him, his stomach churning, “You knew about this didn’t you?”
“He didn’t know about anything-,” Oscar heard Wiess say as he backed away from Jaune, feeling sick as his blood turned cold.
“How are we sure it’s really him? What if we’ve been talking to that liar this whole time?”
Oscar’s ears rung, his skin prickled. Everything felt both so present and distant at the same time. It reminded Oscar of the memories that weren’t his own. Known. Felt. But far away.
“Jaune!” Ruby snapped.
Oscar flinched, holding his hands up, resisting the urge to shield his face. He didn’t look up at Jaune as he stormed upstairs. It was a numb feeling even as his heart hammered in his chest. It felt too distant. Like he was a stranger in his own body.
His own body. Was it even his anymore? If no one sees you- acknowledges your existence- are you even really there? And if this wasn’t even his own body- if everyone had already decided that Oscar Pine didn’t exist then… did he?
The room slowly cleared of people, leaving Oscar standing in the hall, feeling out of place, invisible, empty, gone-
How far gone was he? He could see the ghosts of memories, the familiarity of situations and the whispy faces of people who he’d never met appeared in his dreams. At what point does this change exist. Is it like how there is no set date in which you become an adult? The distance between east and west? A matter of perspective but an undeniable difference. Was he approaching that uncertain line? Was he in the middle? Was it already crossed?
Maybe Oscar Pine had died the moment he began hearing a voice in his head. Or maybe it was the day he woke up wondering who he had dreamed of that was so familiar but still so new? Or perhaps it was right now, the moment he was alone after someone had finally asked him what he had been fearing the entire time.
How are we sure it’s really him?
Don’t think about it.
It was only a drowned whisper in a sea of chaotic thoughts.
Oscar didn’t know where his feet were taking him. Was he controlling them? The feeling of his feet connecting with the solid ground felt muffled. The chilly air felt numb on his cheeks as he walked like a ghost down the streets of Argus. People passed him but didn’t see him. Just another person in the crowd.
Oscar found himself on the outskirts of the city again, numbly looking out at the entrance where very few people strayed. Was he running? Where was he going? Was there really anywhere to flee to? Even if Oscar left the confines of Argus, he would still wake at night with a name on the tip of his tongue that came from nowhere and would swear he saw ghosts in the street with faces that reminded him of someone from somewhere maybe hundreds of years ago. The breath of a name and a feeling in his chest.
No, there was nowhere to run. Nowhere at all. Even diving into the sea and waiting for the waves to claim him would just plunge him into the web of minds that he was fated to join anyway.
It would just be a bother.
It wouldn’t fix anything.
It would just drag another poor person into a hopeless war and into the nightmare that was the curse.
“Are you… lost?”
Oscar blinked his thoughts away. He had stood by the wall’s entrance wracking his brain for probably a couple breaths too long. One of the guards by the gate had come over, a concerned look on their face.
Oscar shook his head quickly, “uh, not really, just lost in thought more like.”
The guard’s expression softened slightly at that, “Well, you should start heading home, it’s going to start getting dark soon and it’s supposed to be pretty cold tonight.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Oscar replied, trying to sound less dazed then he felt.
As he turned around to head back, Oscar held onto that thought. He would just drag someone else into this if he gave up. Oscar hated that idea.
It felt selfish. It felt wrong to bring another poor unfortunate soul along for the ride. To make them cut away from their life that they’re setting up and travel far to keep the world alive for another century. No, Oscar couldn’t do that. He was stuck in this road and there was no way to escape it.
If you can’t go under it, go around it, or go over it- you have to go through it.
Oscar glanced down at his tattered clothes. Light and soft for working hard. Not for fighting.
“If I can’t escape it, I just… have to do my best,” Oscar murmured to himself, fishing out the “emergency lien” Qrow had given him. It wasn’t actually an emergency, but sometimes if you look the part, you can act the part.
And this was a part he couldn’t fail at.