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Waking up after dying was never a pleasant experience, Oscar found. You’d always wake up thrashing and gasping and twisting everywhere like you were still on the ground, bleeding out. Thankfully, the panic subsided quickly, and he was getting better at calming himself down faster. Soon, he hoped, he wouldn’t wouldn’t freak out at all.
Of course, that would imply that he would never get to Beacon at all, which was a… not great idea, but when you’re stuck in some sick time loop, it’s one you would start to consider after a while.
Oscar sat up, pulling himself out of bed. By instinct, he listened for Ozpin’s voice, but as usual, there was only silence. Still just him, all alone, on a farm.
A long time ago he would have been ecstatic. But now, he wanted all the help he could get.
But, Oscar considered, heading into the bathroom to brush his hair, he was on his own on this quest. He was gonna have to get to Beacon on his own, and with no help or weapons. The best he had gotten was a rusty broadsword he had found next to an abandoned campsite (Oscar didn’t like to think about why it was abandoned) but most runs, he just took a shovel. It worked well enough, if you hit a Grimm in the right spot.
Of course, the Grimm were never the main issue, or cause of death. Yes, the first few runs he had been caught off guard by the black monsters, but he was getting a lot better at avoiding them.
No, the main cause was -
As if on cue, Oscar heard a small thud on his windowsill. Peeking out the window cautiously, Oscar saw that a rock had been thrown at the window. On closer examination, he saw that it wasn’t a rock. It was a lump of black glass.
Cinder Fall stood outside the window, hands on her hips. How she had gotten to Oscar as fast as she did, Oscar didn’t know. He was starting to suspect that her loop started earlier than his.
Well, he couldn’t just leave her out there. Eventually, she was going to bust in. Best just to get this over with.
“What is it this time?” Oscar asked candidly, pulling the door shut quietly behind him. “I think we’ve established by now that killing me is just going to hinder you at this point.”
Cinder didn’t respond, merely walking forward. Oscar, despite his best interest, trailed behind her. Thirty seven deaths had made him bolder, sue him.
“Although if we’re going to fight, can you not use your fire? I’m getting rather sick of burning to death, if I’m being honest. It’s not fun.” Oscar continued, realizing he was kind of rambling, but couldn’t find it in himself to shut up. If Cinder was gonna kill him, she would at least have to deal with his motor mouth for a few minutes.
She still didn’t respond, which was strange. Usually Cinder was more than happy to monologue at him, or more common on the recent runs, yell and curse at him, which Oscar was starting to prefer. It was a bit less annoying.
“...Hello? Earth to Cinder.” Oscar remarked.
“Shut. Up.” Cinder growled, still not looking at him.
“Hey, if you’re gonna fight me, you can at least due me the courtesy of letting me talk.” Oscar snarked. The two of them finally arrived, at the tree over the hill. Cinder leaned against the trunk of it, still not looking at him.
“...So what is it?” He asked.
Cinder was silent for a few minutes.
“Salem killed me.” Cinder finally said.
Oscar blinked. “Wait… killed you?” That would explain run thirty six’s abrupt end. “Why?”
“I told her.” Cinder replied, still ice cold. “About the loop.”
“Oooooh.” Oscar said, sitting in the grass. “And she thought you were too dangerous to be kept alive?”
“...Yes.” Cinder admitted, anger and bitterness leaking into her tone. “Right in the main hall. In front of everyone.”
“Did she not pick up on the ‘dying resets the loop’ part?” Oscar snarked, rolling his eyes. He knew he was pushing his luck by being so sassy, but he couldn’t help it. “That’s like, a rookie mistake.”
“Don’t try my patience, boy.” Cinder snarled, yellow eyes narrowed to slits.
They were silent for a few more minutes.
“So I came here.” Cinder finally said.
“You want advice from me?” Oscar asked incredulously.
“No.” Cinder replied. “I just - I don’t know.”
A pause.
“No tattoo.” Oscar remarked, pointing at her back. “You didn't kill Amber?”
“No.” Cinder replied. “When Salem sent me on that mission… I went here instead.”
“Did you just leave Emerald and Mercury behind?” Oscar couldn’t imagine those two ever leaving her side. They were like ducklings, following their mother, albeit murderous psychopathic ducklings. Maybe the analogy didn’t work here.
“I ditched them at an inn in Mistral.” Cinder admitted.
“Well, that was smart.” Oscar replied. “They should get away from you.”
A beat.
“Yes.” Cinder hung her head low, to Oscar’s surprise. “You’re right.”
The morning wind blew past the two of them, sunrise painting the country gold. Oscar stared at Cinder, unsure of if he had just heard what she had said.
“...You know you can’t go back to Salem, right?” Oscar finally asked. “I mean, she killed you. In front of everyone else. She doesn’t care about you.”
“Where else am I supposed to go.” Cinder stated flatly.
“...You could come with me.” Cinder looked just as surprised as Oscar felt, not sure of what he was saying. “I’m trying to get to Beacon, warn everyone of the Fall and all that.”
“...What the hell are you saying?”
“I’m just suggesting it.” Oscar stood, turning on his heel. “I mean, you left Salem, right? Maybe you could like, I don’t know, turn your life around or something.”
Cinder scoffed, no humor behind it. “Don’t give me your pity. I’m not some charity case you need to fix.”
“Believe me, I know that.” He replied. “And frankly, I wasn’t planning on it either, I don’t even like you. You’ve killed me twenty four times out of the thirty six. That’s more than three-fourths.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because I think defeating Salem may be the key to stopping this.” Oscar pointed out. “I’ve tried to just not go, but you’ve seen how well that went. If this is the universe giving me a chance, I’m gonna take it.”
Cinder frowned, brow crinkled. “...What guarantee do you have that I won’t just try and take Beacon down again?” She asked. “What guarantee do you have that I won’t just try and kill you?”
“Because then we’ll just end back up here.” Oscar replied. “And, if I’m being honest? I’m getting kind of sick of reliving March over and over again, and something tells me you are too.”
Neither of them spoke for a moment, Cinder pondering her options quietly.
“Think about it.” Oscar said, turning back to the house. “Anyways, since you seem to be distracted, I’m gonna get my stuff and go.”
He was halfway back to his house when Cinder stopped him.
“Why?” She asked. “Why do you keep trying to get to Beacon, if you know nothing but pain and suffering awaits you? Why do you keep marching towards your death?”
To that, Oscar smiled, a sad one, but one nonetheless. “Because someone has to.” He answered, steel in his tone. “And I’m not gonna let this chance go to waste. Not this time.” And with that, he turned back towards the house, ready to pack up his things like he had done so many times before, and head out onto a familiar road to the same train station he always went to.
Cinder watched him go, confused. This kid, who had been thrust into a war he didn’t choose, had been given an out. And he refused to take it.
What kind of a person was he, to do that?
She thought back to the crystal meeting hall, the beautiful fixtures stained with blood. Her blood.
What would she do, if she went back to Salem? Live life like how she did the first time, clutching her secrets close to her chest? Knowing that death awaited her around every slip, every secret lost?
She sat under the tree. The morning sun warmed her face, as she watched it come up, light searing into her vision.
It was nice.
This was nice.