Bit of a reflective chapter today.

Cover Art: Serox

Chapter 41

Bleary light invaded his eyes. Spots danced in his vision, black and white, pulsating like winking stars until his stomach churned. A groan slipped out, more sore muscles and exhaustion than pain, though the sudden twinge through his stomach brought that along as well.

"Steady now." A dark hand appeared in his vision and tilted his head to the left. Sienna sat there, a tired but pleased looking smile on her face. "You've taken quite the injury there. How are you feeling?"

"Like I died…"

"You didn't." Sienna said.

He was not so sure.

"I wasn't able to capture the one who stabbed you. she fled quickly and no one saw her. Your life is more important anyway."

That was so. The White Fang needed him alive and well. He'd become a symbol. With a groan, he tried to sit, accepting Sienna's help to do so. His stomach was bandaged tightly, and something tugged even beneath those. "Stitches?" he asked.

"Yes. Perry's veterinarian friend put you back together."

"I can't believe such a brazen assassination attempt almost worked," he growled. "How did someone just walk right past you?"

Sienna raised an eyebrow at his anger but likely wrote it off as a result of nearly being killed. "She must have come the other way to where I left," she said. "I didn't see a person enter. If we're to apportion blame, then why did you let your aura down in a hostile environment?"

"Stupidity," he snapped. "Complete and utter stupidity."

"Hm. Well. At least you recognise that. Do you want a report on how the raid went?"

He wanted a drink of water and maybe some food, but this was important enough to place those concerns aside. "Go on."

"The Legion is no more. Every single one of their members was rounded up and taken away. Ilia was able to defend the faunus and ensure none died in the assault. Unfortunately, they were all arrested for having been involved in the first place. Beacon assures us they will receive fair trials and help where needed."

"Let's see if that actually happens…"

"You don't think it will?"

"It wouldn't be the first time promises have fallen through."

"How cynical of you," she said. "You're normally more optimistic."

"I'm normally not waking up to a gut wound," he countered. "And the rest? Continue the report."

"Atlas and Beacon suffered no casualties and neither did we. There were some arguments between them, but we stayed out of it, more concerned with your health. There were some pointed questions as to how The Legion's leader died. More than a few fingers were pointed our way."

"Of course. What else did we expect?"

"All in all, I'd say it's a win," Sienna finished. "Your pet reporter is already spinning it in our favour. There is an overall response of disgust among the population; even those normally aligned against us are appalled at the idea of death sports taking place in their city."

One would hope so. Vale was supposed to be a civilised city, at least compared to the frontier towns dotting the countryside. People came here in search of a better life, not to be forced into gladiatorial combat.

"Ozpin has also tried to make contact with you," Sienna said.

He froze. "How?"

"Through Sun. He left a number we could call him on when you're recovered. I think he wants to make sure you're still alive. Absolve Beacon of any guilt in your injury." Sienna smirked. "That he feels the need at all is a sign of how well you're doing. Adam never had famous political figures at his beck and call."

"Insulting the dead now?"

Sienna's smile fell. Her eyes narrowed. "You are waspish today, Jaune."

"I've been stabbed."

"Hmhm. I guess that's understandable. Do you want me to bring you a scroll to contact Ozpin? I've a feeling he'll keep pushing until he knows if you are alive or not."

It wasn't exactly the most exciting issue on his platter, but it was an important one. The White Fang was benefitting from this alliance with Beacon, and it wouldn't do to let ill will form. Worse, any rumours of his death could significantly impact recruitment and morale, and it was ridiculous just how fast rumours could spread. This had to be dealt with as soon as possible.

"Very well. Some water would be appreciated as well. My lips are drier than the sands of Vacuo."

Sienna left and returned within a minute to offer him a bottle of clear mineral water with the cap screwed off. It was refreshing and crisp. Beautiful. He'd forgotten the taste, it seemed, and he downed half the bottle or more before wrenching it away and gasping for air.

"Be mindful," Sienna warned. "Your injury wasn't life threatening but try not to stretch it or move too suddenly." She gave him a scroll. "We've made sure this is clean. There's no risk of the call being tracked either."

"Ozpin wouldn't dare," he said. "To attack us now after working with us would call his character into question. He can't afford that."

"It doesn't hurt to be careful."

Sienna took a step back but made it clear she would be staying in the room to listen in. She was the leader of the White Fang after all. He had no authority over her. Looking down at the number hastily written on a scrap of paper, he dialled it into the scroll and waited.

It didn't take long. Apparently, Ozpin had been awaiting his call.

"Mr Arc!" There was clear relief in the man's voice. "I am pleased to see you safe and well. We offered our finest doctor to work on you, but Team RWBY told me your people were reluctant to allow it."

"My people have been betrayed before."

"I'm sure they have. I would like to first of all offer my apologies for what happened. That you were injured on a joint raid must paint us in a poor light."

"I am somewhat unimpressed." On the screen, Ozpin paused, and Sienna stiffened in the corner of the room. He knew he'd caught them both by surprise. "I was expecting a little more cooperation between us, and yet what I received was Atlas tyring to steal the show, more interested in personal glory than the faunus we were trying to save."

"I assure you that I had no idea of this plan of theirs."

"I'm sure you didn't, but we took Atlas along as a favour to you. We did so in the expectation that you would ensure they played by the same rules you do…"

Ozpin frowned. "I've had words with James about this. He knows my stance. I do apologise again, Mr Arc. You are right to say some of the responsibility rests on my shoulders, but I hope we can look beyond that-"

"I nearly died."

"I am aware… and that was never our intent…"

"And yet it almost happened," he interrupted. "I think this marks the end of our cooperation with Atlas."

Ozpin looked stiff as a board. "Only with Atlas…?"

"Beacon has yet to fault us." The words did not prompt an obvious reaction, but Ozpin did appear a little relieved.

"I am pleased to hear that. I also cannot blame you feeling upset after what James pulled. I'll pass the message on. I'm glad you are still willing to work with us, Mr Arc. I trust that Team RWBY did not disappoint you."

"They performed admirably."

"There were no issues with Miss Belladonna, I hope?"

"Blake was perfect."

"She… was…?" Ozpin looked oddly at him but didn't argue. "That is good to hear. They were also quite frustrated with Atlas for the stunt they pulled, so I doubt this will upset them any. You may also be interested to know that I have spoken to the magistrates and all the faunus who volunteered for the Legion's games will face, at worst, community service and house arrest. Where they have homes. It is not easy to decide what to do with those that are homeless. I am looking into hostels that might take them."

More than he'd expected of a man like Ozpin, but no more than was necessary to keep their alliance. If anything, it was more a problem that Ozpin was the one left with this task. He was the headmaster of a school. If Vale really wanted to put a good foot forward, this should be the responsibility of the Council or their armies of bureaucrats.

"I'll leave you to your recovery for now," Ozpin said. "And I shall speak with James myself. I wish you well and hope to hear from you soon. Please keep my number and feel free to use it if you have information pertaining to other criminal activities. Good day."

The call ended and he set the scroll down on the side. Sienna had been right to say Ozpin was desperate; it almost felt like he was bending over backwards to keep this alliance going. That's a lot of influence the White Fang gets to command right now. There are more than a few ways to use that.

"Don't you think it a little risky to call out Ironwood like that?" Sienna asked.

"The man is incompetent. He nearly cost us the raid."

"And your life."

"The raid was more important. It was incompetence that got me stabbed. No one with a real brain would have let their aura down at a moment like that. Idiot," he swore under his breath.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. Accidents happen."

"They can't afford to when the whole White Fang will suffer if he – I – die." He shook his head and swung his legs out over the side. "I need to clear my head. Give me a moment."

"Of course. Be careful on those stitches."

They were in the warehouse again, yet someone had seen fit to get him a proper bed to sleep on. It was quiet outside – daytime if the light coming through the windows was any indication. Most of the White Fang would either be sleeping off their missions or at their day jobs, blending back into society. They were volunteer forces after all, disillusioned faunus who had real lives and real jobs but still wanted to make a change.

Then there were the full-timers from Menagerie.

"Boss! You're up!" Ilia came rocking up with a huge grin on her face. His didn't match it. "Good to see you up and about," she said. "You hear how I kept the faunus safe?"

"I did. Good work," he said gruffly.

"Ha. No problem. I wonder if Blake saw me do that. You think she was impressed?"

"I think Blake has no interest in you whatsoever," he snapped. "She never did and never will, and your constant pining is as annoying as it is hopeless."

Ilia's mouth fell open, hurt and anger registering on her face before Sienna coughed from behind and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ignore Jaune," she soothed. "He's been in a terrible mood since waking up. He's quite angry with Ironwood for endangering everyone in the raid."

"R-Right." Ilia bobbed her head. "I guess I'm not helping, huh?" She laughed awkwardly and stepped away. "I'll leave you be. Um. See ya!"

"Don't be so harsh on them," Sienna told him. "I know you're angry, Jaune, but snapping at them is too much. They did their jobs admirably. A good leader remembers that."

He gritted his teeth and said, "I need some time alone."

"Very well. You deserve a day to rest."

The toilets were as good a place as any for some peace and quiet. He stumbled into them and over to the sinks, twisted the taps and splashed water into his face. It was cold and fresh, running over his skin in a way that made him shiver. He looked up into the mirror, touched his fingers to his fair skin and tugged at it. His blue eyes stared back, unblemished and unmarked. Adam Taurus touched the skin beneath his left eye and shivered.

"You're a fucking idiot, Arc. Now why the hell am I here in control and what am I supposed to do about it?"

/-/

Being alive again was a fresh experience for Adam Taurus, and one he would have enjoyed more if he wasn't forced to spend it with his ex-peers, peers that he had never truly felt any attachment to, and whom he knew felt very little for him. Most of them were happier with him dead and gone, which made conversation more than a little awkward.

"I'm fine, Yuma," Adam snapped.

"You sure, boss? You've been in a right mood from what I hear." He slung an arm around Adam's shoulders, all but inviting death. "Missing a little special time with Sienna, huh? Don't worry. I bet once those stitches are out, she'll ride you til your hips break."

Bloody hell, he hoped not. Being within Jaune, Adam knew full well that the relationship between him and Sienna was fake, and yet the thought of this mental takeover being anything other than temporary was terrifying. While it was nice to draw breath, feel the wind on his skin and experience touch and taste again, he was still Adam Taurus in mind. Sienna was his coward of a boss who did not go far enough, and he wasn't sure he could fake being in love with her without throwing up.

Now if only Blake were around…

"Maybe what you need is a guy's night in," Yuma went on obliviously. "I can grab us some beers and popcorn, maybe a porno or two. It's not the same, I know, but we can hang out and chill."

"I think I would rather tear my stitches and die," Adam growled, removing Yuma's hand from his shoulder and tossing it away. "I have better things to do than sit around bemoaning a lack of sexual conquest. You do as well, or do you expect the world to change while we idle?"

"Of course I don't. You know I'll work when there is work. Not much we can do now though, is there?"

Adam opened his mouth to suggest Yuma could train, do reconnaissance or at the very least whip the newcomers into shape. There was little point, however. Instead, he growled and brushed past him, seeking solace in solitude.

Written reports over the White Fang's recent successes kept his mind busy. Adam pored over them writing notes and suggestions that he hoped Jaune would find in time and pass off as his own. While he had a knack for PR and making the best of a bad situation, he still had no concept of grand planning or strategy.

The new recruits would need to be trained if they were to be of any use. Adam wrote up a plan for that, assigning Yuma and Wukong to train them when they were available. A minimum of two sessions of two hours per week. It wouldn't make them capable, but it would prevent them dying to the first enemy they came across. That would be bad for their new PR after all.

After that, he took stock of their supplies and wrote out instructions for a stock of food goods to be gathered. Did Jaune not have any idea how bad things could go if the public turned against them and they had to lay low? He had people who did not need to stay hidden, so they could make for them a pantry to last in the event things went bad.

On the media, while Lisa was proving invaluable, he wasn't sure of her loyalty. That was a woman who wanted a story, her magnum opus. People loved stories of the rise of a charismatic hero, but what they loved more – and what lived on in history – was their inevitable fall.

Create blackmail on Lisa Lavender. Record meetings, he wrote. She is already breaking the law, so gather evidence of that and keep protected in case of betrayal. Pondering, he added, Too many eggs in one basket. Need to stop relying on her for information or will be left blind when or if she leaves.

Jaune was too soft to consider it. Too idealistic. Better Adam deal with that when he wasn't around to argue. He sealed the letter into an envelope, addressed it to Ilia and left it on the side where he knew she would find it. He hadn't signed it, but who else could she think it had come from other than Jaune? It would be followed, and like he usually did, Jaune would be forced to run with the idea as if it were his own.

Hours passed in relaxed silence. Adam would not say he enjoyed paperwork, but he enjoyed progress, and the feeling of having gotten so much work done was a pleasant one. If anything, he felt like a man settling his affairs, something writing out a will content in the knowledge everyone he was leaving behind would be safe.

Content to bask in the satisfaction of a job well done, Adam settled into a sofa nearby, trusting that the various letters he'd written on Jaune's behalf would find their intended recipients. Plans would be set in motion, schemes enacted, and Jaune could reap the glory of their successes. Adam really didn't care anymore. As long as the cause he'd given his life for saw its eventual victory.

Trifa found him soon after.

"Are you okay?" she asked him sweetly. "I've been hearing from everyone how you're not feeling so well."

Adam wanted to scream. "I am trying to find some peace and quiet."

"I get that. I do." And yet she chose to sit beside him on the sofa in the corner of the warehouse. "Yuma told me how you bit his head off. Can't say I blame you; he's got the sensitivity of a brick."

Trifa wasn't much better right now.

"I just want to say that sometimes mistakes happen. Even Adam made some, not that we'd ever admit that." She laughed. He did not. "Uh. Well. I mean, you're doing well. Everyone is happy to be working under you and even if one little thing goes wrong, that doesn't mean things are going to change. As long as you learn from this mistake, it's not a problem."

Not incorrect, and yet it was annoying to have her try and teach him the lesson instead of Jaune. By this point he was convinced the idiot was just too much of a pansy to take control. He was probably still unconscious, agonising over what was honestly such a small injury.

"Do you hear what I'm saying?"

"I hear you," Adam forced out. "I'll keep it in mind."

"Good." Trifa impulsively leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek. More friendly than romantic, a sign of camaraderie. "You're a good leader, Jaune. Don't forget that."

Idiots. All of them. Adam stayed on the sofa, head tilted back in angry contemplation. The White Fang was better off without him. That much was obvious. It pained him to admit it, especially with how much hard work and time he'd put in, but the results spoke for themselves. They weren't even sad to see him go.

I could kill Jaune's body right now. Undo the stitches or take his life. It might even save me from the fate of being trapped inside his mind, an eternal prisoner to my own humiliation…

He made no move to. While Jaune's death would satisfy him a little, it would also crush the White Fang. Loyalty to that won out and Adam sighed into his hand, surrendering himself to a lifetime of mental anguish and longing. If it ended with the faunus freed from oppression, so be it.

He would pay any price – even that of his eternal soul.

/-/

"You're pathetic."

Jaune was used to insults from Adam by now so the fresh one didn't come as much of a surprise. It bothered him, though. Mostly because he agreed with the man for once.

"You have aura and yet you let someone stick a knife in your gut. What was the point of unlocking and learning to use it if this is the result?"

"I let my guard down…"

"Yes," he sneered, "Because you had that bitch's tongue down your throat and let your balls do the thinking for you. It was still a combat situation – to say nothing of Sienna killing a prisoner in front of you. Did you not think that even the slightest bit suspicious?"

"Why would I? Sienna founded the White Fang. Violence is her modus operandi. I don't know her like you do," he argued. "I only have what Ilia tells me and of course she's biased."

"All the more reason for you to keep your aura activated around her." Adam said. There was no arguing with it and Jaune glared down at the floor. Or what amounted to a floor in his own mind. "Pathetic," the dead faunus repeated. "I warn you now, Arc, if we die and I somehow end up stuck inside your head even in the afterlife, we will have problems."

"I don't think I'm dead if we're talking like this…"

"That would depend on the medical treatment, wouldn't it?" Adam sniped. "Or whether your would-be assassin decided to poison her blade. You could be dying right now, and you wouldn't know it. And as if that wasn't enough, your death will tear the White Fang in two. It will undo everything you've done – perhaps even make it worse if you die on a joint mission with Atlas and Beacon."

Crap. He was right. It felt strange to think of consequences after his death, especially when he wouldn't be there to worry about it, but faunuskind would probably blame the two schools for what happened. Oddly enough, he felt sorry for Ruby most of all. That poor girl would blame herself. His sympathy for the others was lacking, especially Blake. That crazy bitch would rejoice.

Adam must have taken his silence as Jaune ignoring him, because he growled and said, "Fortunately for you, you're not dead. Or dying. I've made sure of that. You may have a few interesting conversations when you wake up, however." Adam chuckled darkly at that."

"What does that mean?" Jaune asked suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter. You need to recognise that your existence is bigger than just your life! The White Fang relies on you now, as much as that pains me, and the whole movement teeters on the edge. If you truly believe you can change things through peace where we could not, then prove it!"

"Aren't I trying!?"

"Are you?" Adam spat back. "Your main focus is on survival and always has been."

"You're the one saying I need to live for the White Fang's sake!"

"You do, but let's not pretend that reason has even crossed your mind. Everything you do, from portraying this peaceful image to hunting down the woman who would destroy Vale, is so that you can go free at the end of the day. It's not for the White Fang; it's not for the faunus who love, respect and loyally follow you; it's for yourself."

"I didn't ask to be lumped with all this!" Jaune yelled.

"And I didn't ask to die!" Adam roared back. Jaune flinched. "I didn't ask to be killed; I didn't ask to have my love abandon me; I didn't ask to become a terrorist; I didn't ask to be branded like fucking cattle." Adam ripped his mask off to reveal the grisly scars across his face. "I didn't ask to be born into a people hated for who we are. We don't always get what we ask for, Arc. Don't whine to me about life being unfair."

Adam sighed and placed his mask back on, hiding his eyes, the blackened and bubbled skin and the hate, rage and – dare he say it – grief in Adam's eyes. The man was easier to deal with masked. Easier to look at. Jaune felt sick for even thinking it.

"We make the best of the shit hand we're dealt," Adam growled. "Everything I've ever worked for is for naught, and it'll continue being for naught the more you change the White Fang. If you succeed, my legacy will be one of a fool. A man who wasted his life with violent extremism when all the White Fang needed was a single PR win. People will laugh at me as much as they do the legacy of General Lagune."

"I'm sorry…"

"And I'm fine with that."

"You… are…?"

"Of course I am!" he snapped. "I did the things I've done to change the world. What do I care about who does it or how? As long as the job gets done, I don't care how or what my reputation is at the end of it. I was prepared to sacrifice my life for the cause. I've no issue sacrificing my name as well."

Jaune believed him. Despite all Adam's reasons to hate him, and there were many, the faunus had done nothing but help in his head. He'd given advice, taught him strategy, pointed him in the right direction and yes, Adam challenged his conviction often, but that always felt like it was done with the desire to harden his resolve.

Adam wanted this new White Fang to succeed. Even after death, the man was loyal to the cause – loyal enough to help the one who'd murdered him take over his own organisation and twist it into something unrecognisable. Because, at the end of the day, if that ended up saving even a single faunus, it was worth it.

"I'll try." Jaune said, feeling small and insignificant in the face of Adam's resolve. "I… I'll try my best, Adam. I really will."

"Tch. You'd best." Adam had turned to look away. "Now get out there and take over this body again. I cannot stand dealing with those idiots for even a second longer."

"Wait, what?"

"You're welcome by the way. Living your shitty life for even a single day was torture."

Poor Adam. It must be hard to see how things are better without you, but at the same time he's loyal enough to the cause to accept that and keep the charade going.

Not enough to let someone criticise Blake, though. I wonder if him snapping at Ozpin was the first sign this was Adam, or if people caught on sooner. I'd be interested to hear when the penny dropped.

Next Chapter: 13th July

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur