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It started with a simple cough.
It began as a bring day outside, the clouds in the sky were slowly moving past them, while a gentle breeze blew through his hair and hair Oscar’s hair askew. His son, who had just turn ten years old was currently playing in the fields of the summer cottage a few feet from him, dressed in several pairs of warm clothing, his nose and cheeks pink from the cold.
He had chosen to come here after a rather hard week at Beacon, he needed a break from everything that was going on, the stress his job as a Necromancer and being around Ironwood was proving to take its toll on him mentally and physically. Plus, it was also taking time away from spending it with Oscar, who rarely saw him expect during lunch hours and bedtime when he would kiss him goodnight and read him a story.
So, Oz decided it was time to take a vacation. Just to take some time where he could be himself, and where Oscar could be a kid.
And for a full week. That is what they planned. Oz planned a full week of fun with his son, filled with nothing but relaxation, moments filled with story times, and his and Oscar’s favorite past time, cuddles.
On the four day, it was as any normal Wednesday evening.
Until Oscar, suddenly let out a loud cough. It wasn’t particularly loud or deep, just a simply cough. Oz simply thought that perhaps his son, had been outside too long in the cold air, as there was snow on the ground today and Oz had noticed the shivers traveling along Oscar’s shoulders and all the way down his spine say his son walked around the lawn.
So, he smiled tenderly, walked over, and scooped his boy into his arms, earning a delightful squeal from the ten-year-old. “I think it is about time we head inside, don’t you think, love?”
Oscar giggled and patted his father’s cheek. “Beep!”
And the rest of that day was spent in a warm peace as they ate a nice hot bowl soup while they listened to the radio all cuddled up next to the fireplace, while Oz sang a lullaby to Oscar to soothe his son to sleep. “‘You are my—‘“
”Sunshine!” Oscar smiled, nuzzling his cheek, making Oz’s glasses go eschew.
“That’s right, love.” Oz smiled and hugging him tighter, his heart filled with warmth. “‘You make me happy when skies are—‘“
”Grey!”
Oz snickered, ticking his son along the stomach, ”I believe this song is suppose to help you fall asleep, love! Not become more rambunctious!”
They laughed and laughed as Oscar continued to interrupt the song but eventually fell asleep, his breathing rather wheezy.
The next day was another beautiful day, birds chirped outside, a gentle snow fall peaked over the horizon, this time however Oz noticed that Oscar was coughing more than yesterday. Oz could only wince in sympathy whenever his son inhaled deeply as it always was followed by a deep painful cough afterwards. For Oz, knowing that Oscar must have developed a cold from being outside so long yesterday filled him with an immense amount of guilt, but he forced that down and focused on the task at hand as he poured medicine in a cup and brought it over to Oscar, whom was laying in his armchair.
He smoothed his baby’s hair back from his face, who pouted in his chair staring at the fire, “Aw, my poor little pinecone, not feeling good today?” Oscar nodded, his cheeks puffed out, very obviously unhappy he had to take medicine since he utterly loathed the stuff. Ozpin ruffled his hair and gave him a reassuring smile, “I know, but once you take this, you’ll feel better in the morning”
“P-Promise?” Oscar asked, his throat hoarse and dry from coughing all day.
Oscar’s question made Ozpin’s heart melt and pang with a bit of worry, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the crown of Oscar’s head, “I promise.”
He was remained right then, of the day he first found Oscar.
That warm, summer day ten years ago, where he was walking down a country road looking to have a bit of a break from yet another stressful time being Headmaster and having to deal with James for extended periods of time, when he heard something that made him stop, the sound of wailing.
But it didn’t sound quiet right, it sounded muffled and positively frightened. Never one to ignore the distress of children, he followed the voice to the deepest part of a corn field and realized with such a horror it left him breathless, that laying straight in the middle of this cornfield was a bag, with a baby inside of it.
Oz dropped his cane to the ground and ran forward, taking his teeth he ripped the bag open and the first thing he saw was a mop of brown hair.
The poor little boy was gasping for air, freighting, and fitting like it was still in the bag, like it didn’t know it was out. Gently, he held the little one in his arms and shushed it, swaying from side to side, running a finger along his cheek to calm him down.
Then those eyes opened and stared at him, those deep hazel greenish eyes looked directly at him and still with tears falling down his face, smiled at him.
And that was all it took, that innocent smile of wonder and awe within those eyes, was enough for him. “It’s alright. I’m here, love. Papa’s right here”
In this abandoned field, he vowed to always be there, to love Oscar with all his heart.
The next morning Oscar developed a fever, along with sweating and cold chills. Oz made sure he was bed ridden all the entire day. He ran his fingers through those sweaty curls, “Oh my baby boy, you are a right mess, what am I going to do with you?”
Oscar tried to smile at his teasing, but he winced and let out a whimper of pain, tears forming in his eyes. “Papa...”
His heart ache, but he forced his best smiled and kissed his son’s head. “Shhhh.” He said soothingly, using his thumb to wipe away the tear tracks that slide down his son’s cheeks. “‘You are my—‘“
Oscar swallowed, his face in visible anguish “Su-Sunshine...”
“‘My only—‘“ He paused for a moment, giving Oscar time to chime in like he always did but he didn’t and that made Oz’s heart ache all the more. “‘You make me happy, when skies are grey...’”
The next day was shortness of breath, following by shallow breathing. Oscar could barely get a deep breathe through neither his nose nor mouth without becoming exhausted.
He debated with himself, knowing that Oscar needed to go to the doctor but knew that it was never ideal to move children when they were this sick. Ozpin pressed his forehead to Oscar’s and tried not to wince at how scalding the skin felt against his own. “Doctor will be here soon, baby, I promise…”
Oscar gazed up at him, a smile on his face, obviously relieved that someone was coming to help him feel better. “Okay…”
“When you get better, we’ll go to that ice cream parlor you love so much?” He tried, he tried to hard to be strong for Oscar, praying that his son would get better given time, and that by the time the doctor did arrive, it would all feel like some funny joke. His lower lip trembled as he gave Oscar a loving smile. “And that petting zoo? You can play with all the animals you want.”
He tried, he did the best he could to stay positive.
But even he had his limits...
By Saturday, Oscar had completely lost his appetite and was having chest pains every time he coughed. He called the doctor multiple times that day, whom informed him that due to the weather, no one would be able to get there until Monday morning.
On Sunday, Ozpin had awoke from a restless sleep. He laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling before getting up and stepping outside to die his daily task of unfreezing the pipes so that his cottage could have hot running water. This was a daily occurrence, one that he always had trouble with during the winter. But he could barely concentrate, all his focus was on the little boy that was currently sick inside his cottage. So he rushed to get everything done and sprinted up the small hill towards his home, not even caring in the least that he did his chores half assed.
Chores be damned, his son was more important
But the moment, the very second he stepped on foot in the door, his heart skipped a beat, because something felt wrong, something felt very very wrong! The air felt colder then it did outside, everything felt a lot darker and eerie then it did outside.
It…
It felt like the passing of an innocent soul….
A black hole formed in his chest, his cane fell from his hands, clattering to the ground as he rushed towards Oscar, whom he had moved from his armchair to the couch as to keep a better eye on him and saw that his son was still lying there, fast asleep.
Except…
His heart raced, and that black hole in his chest grew.
He felt like he was going to throw up as he practically threw himself the rest of the way to his boy. He smoothed Oscar’s hair away from his face and it struck him at how cold his son’s body was, his mind was connecting the dots, but his heart refused to believe it.
Ozpin placed his hands on Oscar’s shoulders, and shook him gently, “Oscar.”
When there was no response, no groan of protest or smile of love as those hazel eyes greeted him as they did every morning.
His hands began to shake, “Oscar!”
It was then that he realized just how limp his son’s body was, how… how lifeless. He felt like his entire world shattered in that moment. “No...” Ozpin crashed to his knees in a heap of despair letting out a deep gut-wrenching wail as he pulled Oscar off the couch and into his arms, holding him exactly as he had when he was a baby.
He rocked back and forth, sobbing, and holding his baby so close to him. Oz pressed his tear-stained face into Oscar’s temple, “Please! Please… no!” He cried out brokenly. “Not him! Not my baby! I… I can’t live without him, please!”
Not really even knowing he was doing it. Ozpin used his Necromancy, it swirled around him in bursts and heavy green light along with an accompany bits of green dust.
“You... are my s-sunshine.” He swallowed thickly, rocking them back and forth, “My only sunshine.” His lower lip quivered as his finger nails dig into Oscar’s clothes. “Please—“ A single son of anguish escaped him and he nuzzles his face against his son’s temple, “Please, don’t take— please don’t take my sunshine away.”
And he sat there the rest of the day, holding his dead son in his arms, sobbing and pleading towards anyone who would listen to bring him back. But nothing, nothing at all happened, Oscar was still dead, dead at ten years old.
Ozpin spent the next couple of days in mourning, never straying to far from Oscar’s body, as it placed it on the couch gently there with his arms crossed over his small chest.
He knew he should bury him, but he just… couldn’t. The thought of pouring dirt on top his child filled him with disgust. He did not eat, he couldn’t sleep, he broke down into sobs and fell to his knees on random occasions.
His body must have lost it’s battle for not sleeping because he was awoken by something kickstarting his mind. It was like a jolt to his system and it jerked him back to reality, eyes snapping open, mind still delirious from lack of sleep. He curled his legs tighter up against his chest and let out a long breathe, tears from reality, the one he did not wish to accept stabbed at his heart and made tears immediately swell in his eyes.
“Beep…?”
The sudden voice speaking out so suddenly, after having it been days being nonstop silence was so earth shattering that Oz nearly passed out from shock the very moment he heard it. He jerked his head towards the voice and let out a choked wail when he realized who spoke it.
There was Oscar, sitting up on the couch looking so very confused, with glowing a bright, vibrant orange in hue. Oscar blinked at him, the pupils of his son’s piercing hazel eyes were gone, now replaced by a two pale white orbs. It was Oscar, and yet... and yet it wasn’t at the exact same time.
Ozpin was on his feet before his mind knew what was happening.
“Oscar!” He wailed brokenly, falling to his knees in front of his baby boy and yanked him into his arms, “Oscar! Baby!” He couldn’t believe it, his magic actually worked! He managed to bring his son back to him!
He’s used it before, but never ever to this extent, he’s been desperate, hysterical when he called on his magic, he knew it was wrong, knew he was probably breaking a rule or two having done it so frantically, but he didn’t care. How could he care about rules when his son was here in front of him again, even if he was now glowing orange, even if he was now a Revived, he didn’t give a single damn.
He hugged his son tightly to him, letting the relief and joy wash over him when felt Oscar reach up and pat his arms, but the movements felt stiff and awkward, like this was the first time Oscar had hugged someone. Oz felt this deep into his soul, so much so that he pulled away and looked into his son’s eyes in confusion, Oscar looked at him with a deep fear white eyes.
“Who, me?” Oscar looked around as that fearful expression turn into one of distraught as he stared at him, and Ozpin felt his breathe leave him with that one sentence.
He felt like his world was shattering all over again when it was just beginning to heal. At first, for a split moment, Ozpin was horrified, angry and dumbfounded all at the exact same time, but then he remembered the very first rule about his type of Necromancy.
Assertive: Mildly painful for revived depends on the situation, user can choose to control the revived, revived looks semi normal. An occasional side effect of being revived with necromancer is that the revived suffer severe amnesia
Oh gods
He did this, because of his own hysteria, because of him, Oscar had no idea who he was and by extension, his very own son had no idea who he was, that they were family. That Oz was his papa.
Oz had gotten his son back only to lose him all over again.
But Oscar was still here, he was still right here in Ozpin’s arms, safe and alive and that was what he needed to focus on, that what he would always focus on.
Gently, though his tears, he smiled, “Why your name is Oscar Diggs.”
Oscar blinked at the name, still looking confused, “Who, you?”
He felt like his heart was crumbling to pieces, but he breathed passed it. Gently, and so very tenderly, Ozpin reached forward and cupped his son’s cheek, as he has done so many times before. “I’m your papa.”
Oscar’s white eyes widened at that, looking at him in awe, “Papa? You?” He seemed to really like that idea already.
Oz stoked Oscar’s face with his thumb. “Yes, I am. And no matter what it takes, I will help you regain your memories.”
Oscar looked unsure now scared even and he made the attempt to huddle close to Oz just the smallest bit, clearly already trusting him, “Promise?”
Oh
A choked noise escaped his throat, but he tried to make it sound more like a laugh but failed miserably, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to his baby boy’s forehead, “I promise.”