She grimaced as she opened the large window drapes to let in the afternoon light. The bright light filled the guest bedroom she had claimed as her own. Unfortunately, it also furthered the intensity of her pounding headache. She flinched back from the window as she rubbed at her eyes, she hated waking up. Waking up meant facing another day of misery, a world stained by her many personal failures.
Willow did not bother to adjust her hair, leaving it to freely remain in its messy state as she headed towards her closet. She walked into the closet, ignoring the piles of randomly discarded clothing on the floor, and grabbed one of her hung up long silk robes. Before putting the robes on, she took a few steps away from the robes to open one of the drawers of a small wardrobe within the closet. She grabbed two bottles of wine from her stash and a small glass.
With her bare essentials handled, Willow returned to her room to take one of the two seats at her round glass dining table just a little ways away from the window. As much as the bright light bothered her, seeing the outside of her personal prison was a temptation she could not avoid. She poured herself a small glass of red wine as she reached for her Scroll she kept on the table beside her binoculars.
She sent a quick message to Klein to prepare her something to eat before she reached for the pair of binoculars. Her view of the back of the estate had been dull in the past, once merely nothing but the empty decorated grounds covered in snow. Yet now the back of the estate contained a source of entertainment for her. A once makeshift shooting range had slowly sprawled into a professional setup for select members of the estate.
She raised the binoculars to her eyes to observe the shooting range. A small smile crossed her lips as she saw her three children at the range together. Winter was standing between her siblings, occasionally adjusting their stances or grip on their weapons before they took turns practicing. She felt a wave of happiness at the sight before she was ruthlessly swept away by a tsunami of guilt.
It should have been her. Her eldest daughter was teaching her children once more. How many things did Winter teach to Weiss and Whitley in her place? Willow filled her glass of wine, her hand shaking. Did Winter even learn anything from her in the first place? She placed her empty glass down on the table.
She filled the glass again as her head was filled with another invasive thought. Were they even her children? She may have given birth to them, but they were raised by others. Winter's birth had been such a joyous moment in her life. Winter was the first child she had with the man she thought she would love for the rest of her life.
Jacques had been there for her for a few weeks at most before diving right back into his reforms of the SDC. Willow didn't know what she was doing, so she simply picked the easiest choice given to her. She pushed the burden of being a mother onto her staff. She no longer had to change diapers, to listen to a screaming baby at night. Klein and the others could do so in her place.
Weiss had been her chance at rekindling something with Jacques after the distance between them grew over the years following Winter's birth. She repeated her mistake. Winter had done so well in the hands of the staff; Willow saw little reason to change how Weiss was raised. It was unfortunate the distance between her, and Jacques bled over into how they both treated Weiss. They both spent even less time interacting with Weiss as she was growing up compared to Winter.
Whitley was the final chance she gave Jacques to recapture what they once had. The last chance to prove her father had been wrong about the type of man Jacques was. Even the birth of a son was not enough to recapture her husband's interest for more than a week. She simply handed her third child to the staff to handle as she wallowed in her misery.
Her three children did not need her. It was far too late to start any relationship with them. Her day-by-day lifestyle, most spent in a hazy blur, did not offer a promising opportunity for trying to forge bonds that never existed. The best thing she could do for her children was to leave them be. She needed to focus on outliving Jacques just long enough to ensure he doesn't do anything to fracture the family as much as their combined efforts already had. Not that she was doing much of a good job on that front given the half empty wine bottle on her table and the still full one.
Light knocking on her bedroom door pulled her back into reality. She filled her glass of wine to sip from it before calling out for her butler to come in.
"You can enter, Klein. I'm presentable."
The door opened, but it was not Klein pushing in her breakfast cart. Instead of the aged visage of her personal butler, a much younger member of the staff entered her bedroom. He wordlessly pushed the serving cart to her dining table, before presenting her with an ice filled glass of water and a serving of eggy bread covered in an assortment of berries and syrup.
She stared at him, trying to recall his name, as he placed silverware on the table in front of her near her glass of wine.
"You are Whitley's servant aren't you? James, was it? Where is Klein?"
It was unusual for Klein to not be the one to deliver meals to her. He was her personal butler, the one she trusted the most out of the entire household. Klein had been watching over her since she was a little girl. For him to not deliver her meal, it meant something was wrong.
"My name is Jaune ma'am. I do normally spend my shift tending to Whitley; however Klein asked me to serve you in his stead today as he was feeling under the weather. There was no way I could turn down his request. I have Klein to thank for helping me adjust to my role as a butler."
She frowned as she reached for her fork, "He's ill? How did he seem to you?"
"Just as stubborn as usual. He was assisting me with my cooking practice in the kitchen last night when I noticed he was looking more fatigued than usual. We had a small argument over him overdoing things before he decided taking a day off would be wise," he smiled at her as he stepped away to stand by the serving cart.
Willow slowly cut into her eggy bread with a knife as she tried to process the news with her current headache, "Klein wouldn't take a day off unless he truly thought something was wrong with his health. You must keep an eye on him."
He nodded, "I made him some oatmeal for breakfast and provided him with a glass of orange juice to sip from. If it helps, I think he might have just caught a cold. Some of the security were coughing up a storm recently. Think something is going around."
She stabbed a piece of the eggy bread with her fork, "He's an old goat with hair as white as mine. How could I not worry about him? Any sickness could put him at risk. A common flu put my father in the ground."
The butler's smile faded, "His room is not far from mine. I promise I'll keep a close eye on him. When I'm not tending to your requests, I'll be tending to Klein. I have already sent a message to Whitley to let him know about today's schedule change."
She took a bite of the eggy bread as she nodded, "Acceptable. I imagine my son will not be thrilled at the news of losing you for the day."
If Jaune was Whitley's version of Klein, she figured her son would be as equally irritated as she was at the moment. Her entire schedule was thrown off just by Klein not being there. Sure, she still got her breakfast, but it just wasn't the same.
The butler's gaze trailed from the binoculars on the table to the window as he spoke, "Winter and Weiss will keep him busy enough today. Winter is trying to cram in as much practice with the two as she can before she departs the estate with Weiss."
"They inherited my father's combat drive. I have no idea why else they would be putting their lives at risk when they could have just stayed home. I'm sure the girls had plenty of other interests to pursue available to them," she tried not to think about the fact she didn't even know what other avenues of interest her daughters could have pursued.
He grinned, "I'm not an expert, but even I can tell you those three are talented. Whitley's been a fast learner on the range for someone who never had an interest in self-defense before. Don't know if you've seen Weiss and Winter duel, but it's something else. Seeing those two fight close up is kind of terrifying."
Willow placed her utensils down to raise the pair of binoculars to show to the butler, "I've seen them. They've fought near the range once or twice. My father would have loved them both. Really, he probably would have been out there in his armor tossing them around, knowing him."
"I've seen his portraits around the manor. Klein has told me a few stories about him as well. Nicholas sounded like a great man; I would have loved to meet him. From the stories Klein did tell me, he sounded like a very generous man. If Winter and Weiss inherited his love of combat, Whitley got his generosity."
She placed the binoculars back down to grab her glass of wine. She both loved and hated discussing her father. She loved him dearly, yet she ultimately disappointed him. Nothing could ever make up for how horrible she had been to him over Jacques. Her father had advised her repeatedly to not pursue a relationship with him. She repaid his advice with every insult imaginable, even blaming her mother's early stress induced death on him.
Willow drank from her wine glass before speaking, "My father was too good for this world. He started from nothing if you were unaware. He and my mother grew up as neighbors in a small mining town."
She paused her story to fill up her glass with more wine, her bottle now close to being empty. The glass of water, ignored.
"He fought as hard as he could to earn a better life for her. She was stubborn enough to force him to let her help when she saw how hard he was working. She died when I was young, while the SDC was in its infancy. She worked herself to death to help my father afford his investments to get the SDC off the ground. If Whitley inherited even a fraction of what my father was, my family will be in good hands."
There was a pause between them before the butler seemed to collect his thoughts, "It sounds like those two had something very special together. They must have dearly loved one another. I'm sorry for your loss."
She turned away from him to look back down at her plate, "They did love each other. There is no need for you to apologize to me, it's ancient history. Klein knows where my old childhood photos are kept. Whitley or the girls might be interested in the pictures of the old mining town I grew up in. The town itself is long gone now.."
She took a few more bites of her breakfast as the butler remained by the serving cart. She glanced at him between bites, noticing him occasionally fidgeting with the sleeves of his uniform. It was clear he had something he wished to say but was hesitating to do so.
"You have my permission to speak if you need it. I don't care much for formalities these days," outside of the handful of events Jacques forbade her from skipping, she had little reason to bother with formality.
He hesitated for a few moments before speaking quietly, "Is it truly that easy to deal with loss? I've heard time heals all wounds, but…" his words trailed off into silence.
A bitter grin crossed her face as she raised her glass of wine, "I've had plenty of assistance when it comes to tackling loss in my life. Hm, I should probably not encourage you to start drinking at your age."
He slowly nodded, "Yeah… Whitley would not be a big fan of me choosing that solution."
She emptied the rest of her glass, "I imagine so. I doubt any of my children are a fan of alcohol. At least I can say I taught those three a valuable life lesson? If you can't pick up drinking, just practice lying to yourself every night. That's another perfect way to tackle your problems."
She felt a strange mix between bitterness and giddiness as she continued to speak. This small conversation was freeing in a way. Words she would never burden Klein with, came freely out of her mouth. Was it cruel to burden the teenage butler of her child with snippets of her own issues? Probably.
He matched her bitter grin with his own, "Ah, that method. I think I already have a talent for lying to myself, thanks. Has a nasty side effect of making it easier to rely on lying, doesn't it?"
Willow shook her bottle of wine, seeing if there was enough for another glass, before drinking from the rest of the bottle directly. She held up a single finger to inform him she would respond to him just as soon as she was done.
She placed the empty wine bottle on the table, "You. I like you. You remind me of me, not that that's really a good thing for someone your age. Come sit down, the chair across from me is unoccupied. We can talk until I'm done eating and then you can go watch Klein."
He strode forward, pulling out the chair across from her, before taking a seat.
She pushed her glass of water towards him as she opened up her full bottle of wine to pour herself another glass, "Now then, tell this old woman what has you considering the path of alcoholism. I'll warn you now, it's a lonely path."
He grabbed the glass of water, "Old? I don't see it. I'm sure you could go down to the range right now and blend in perfectly with the Schnee siblings if you tried.
She grabbed her fork, pointing it at him, "Good attempt at trying to distract me from my question. Unfortunately for you, even if I was drunk, I would not get caught up in some off hand compliment by someone the same age as my youngest daughter. Plus, I fear I might just end up one of their targets if I did go down there."
He sighed, "Unfortunate. That particular trick works well on Weiss. Toss a few compliments her way and suddenly she's too distracted to notice you've just tricked her into selling her most valuable property in a board game."
Willow ate some of her eggy bread before speaking, "How ruthless of you. Both teasing a girl her age and attempting to deflect this conversation away from yourself. I was expected to head the SDC once upon a time. I know when people are trying to steer conversations."
He held his hands up near his chest in surrender as he admitted defeat, "Fine, you win. I just don't like talking about my background. Can I let you vent first? I just don't enjoy being pitied."
She raised her glass in a mock toast, "Agreed. I much prefer the looks of loathing my children give me over any attempts at pitying the mess I've turned myself into. I suppose I'll talk for a little while."
He frowned at her, "That's just depressing, ma'am. Thank you for giving me a pass, if only for a while."
"Willow. If I'm going to be trading baggage with some child, the least they could do is call me by my name. I'm aware of my situation with my children, if I can even call them that with how little I had to do with raising them. Don't pity me for my being in a hole I dug myself."
"Doesn't change the fact that you are their mother by blood. Nothing will change that outside of a permanent severing of ties," he glanced at the empty bottle of wine.
"Drinking myself into an early grave wasn't exactly what I planned to do with my life when I was young. Klein has been encouraging me to enroll myself into some private rehabilitation program. I just don't see the point. The kids don't need me. I'd just be stirring up trouble with Jacques."
She watched the butler lean into his chair, his eyes straying towards the window before looking back at her. He raised his finger, pointing towards her binoculars on the table.
"You still seem pretty interested in what they're up to though, Willow. I honestly think you're wrong. You must know by now that Whitley has been all but officially confirmed as the heir for the company. Do you really think there is absolutely nothing you could offer him? You've said it yourself, you were once meant to head the SDC."
"I could offer him some messy PR incidents, just as I have with Jacques. There is a reason I mostly stay locked away in my own room. No, I doubt I could offer him much unless I sobered up. If Klein hasn't managed to convince me to go to rehab, do you really think you stand a chance to?"
He shrugged, "My words somehow got Winter to consider a closer move home. I thought I could at least try; you know?"
She waved her fork at him, "Interesting, I wasn't aware you influenced that decision. If it's true, I'm grateful for you getting her to reconsider her career. With her new position she can at least come and go home as she pleases. I do appreciate your concern for my relationship with my children, but I doubt there is much you can do."
He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes staring directly into hers, "Are you sure? Whitley listens to me; I can arrange something. If you just tried, I think both of you could come to some sort of understanding."
A wave of irritation struck her at his words. Why did he think it would be that easy? She was basically a non-entity in the lives of her children. Perhaps a warning of their futures if they embraced a life of failure, but nothing more.
"I wasn't aware we hired relationship counselors as butlers now. Can I see your degree, Mr. Counselor? An expert at your age must be rare, indeed," she mocked.
"Sorry, I overstepped. I just want to do right by Whitley, you know? If you can't rely on your own family, who else can you rely on? I guess I just wanted to try to give him someone else he can turn to with Weiss and Winter leaving soon."
"I'm sure Jacques will be thrilled to have him at his side. You're rather naive if you think all families are so perfect. Or perhaps you were lucky enough to have such healthy relationships in your own family," she picked at her food, no longer feeling hungry.
He shook his head at her, "Whitley seems to just tolerate his father if anything. I don't think they are very close. I'm not entirely sure how my family dynamics were. I was six when I lost mine. I've lived longer without a family than with one, so memories are a little hazy there. I remember my parents being happy together at least."
She felt bad for smiling at his news about Jacques given the rest of what he had to say, "At least Jacques hasn't sunk his claws into him yet. Do me a favor and guide my son into being a semi-decent person or at least better than Jacques. It shouldn't be too difficult. You absolutely must fill me in on your situation."
He fiddled with his sleeve before nodding, "I suppose it's only fair after what you've shared. I'm a Mountain Glenn orphan, lost my family at six. Ended up in an orphanage in Atlas with some other survivors. That place wasn't exactly kind to us. Us kids ended up forging our own family in an attempt to cope with our loss. Didn't last long when we were handed off to other kingdoms for adoption. In a way, I lost both my families really."
She placed her fork down to drink from her wine before speaking, "Alright, I can see now why you kept pushing. Family must be important to you or at least this concept of family you have. It's still utterly naive, but I understand it. Someone your age shouldn't have to even deal with processing the loss of two families, it's a shame."
He grinned at her, "And so we return full circle. Back to my original question, does it ever get easier?"
She swirled her glass of wine, "No, not in my experience. I chose the wrong ways to deal with my issues in life. From running from my issues to drinking them away, I haven't done a great job. I don't even know if I can really give you advice. I would probably not be here if Klein was not around to watch over me. Find someone you can rely on I guess."
He sighed, "I'd have to fix my own problems first before I feel comfortable enough to do that. I wasn't joking earlier when I said lying to yourself makes lying much easier. I trust Whitley, I do. I just don't think I want to drown him in my own problems. He's still just a kid, he even looks up to me. I have to do my best to not fall apart in front of him."
She finished the rest of her glass before pushing both the glass and her plate forward, "Well, you have my ear if you need someone to speak to. This little sample therapy session has been oddly refreshing in a way. Occasionally stop by if you need to, just send a message to Klein before you visit when things go back to normal. He will be able to tell you if I'm in a state to speak with you. You should go check on him, now that I think about it."
He stood from his chair, collecting her dishes and empty wine bottle, "I will likely take you up on that offer every now and then. I'll warn you now, I might nag you into trying to make an attempt to get to know Whitley again."
She waved him off as he grabbed the serving cart, "We'll see if you and Klein can eventually wear me down enough to consider trying to get help. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to know he has an ally in his goal now. I'll send him a message later to let him know I can actually stand having you around. Expect him to interrogate you after that."
He smiled at her as he started to push the serving cart towards the door, "I'll look forward to the interrogation. Perhaps, I can get some concessions out of him for holding such a unique position alongside him? There was a recipe or two I wanted to learn from him…"
She grabbed the pair of binoculars, turning towards the window as she said her parting words for him, "Good luck. Klein has on more than one occasion swore he would take some of his family recipes with him to the grave. I hope for your sake those recipes are not among those."
She heard Jaune laughing to himself as the door shut behind him. Her son chose an interesting individual to have as his personal butler. Perhaps an unorthodox choice given his origin, but one she approved of after meeting him. She would need to keep a closer eye on Jacques to ensure he did nothing to compromise Jaune's position among the staff. She could certainly use a friend and Whitley could use an older brother figure to guide him.
Jaune closed his bedroom door, throwing himself on his bed. It had been a long day for a multitude of reasons. He didn't expect Klein to get sick or to rope him into taking care of Willow for the day. She wasn't as bad as he truly expected, at least during her late breakfast.
Their conversation at breakfast had stuck with him. He really did want to speak with her some more to see if venting their issues would help either of them. Unfortunately, a few hours later she really wasn't in a state for conversation. At least she managed to send a message to Klein about getting along with him before ending up in her stupor. She wasn't exactly a reliable person, but she was someone he could at least try to help for Whitley's sake.
Seeing her later in the day confirmed that he was at least not being as destructive as he could be with coping mechanisms. A few lies here and there was surely better than ending up a drunk. Regardless, their conversation worried him somewhat. He really wasn't sure if there was a better way to deal with his own issues.
He rolled towards the edge of his bed, to reach below it. His hand searched for his lockbox for a few moments before he located it. He pulled the metal case with a digital lock pad into his lap. His earlier conversation stirred up old memories of those he once called family in the orphanage.
He whispered the combination to himself as he dialed the long string of a combination to open the lockbox, "05-13-05-18-01-12-04."
Within the box was a large manilla envelope containing the only keepsakes he had from his time within the orphanage. He opened the envelope, pouring the contents out on his bed. Three separate cards fell out of the envelope. He shoved the lockbox and envelope off to the side as he grabbed the three cards.
The first he read hurt the most, it always did. His hand shook lightly as he opened the red card. Messy black penmanship covered the entirety of the right-hand side of the card. A giant "Happy Birthday!" was crossed out. The left side contained a rough drawing of a rose.
'I'm sorry I can't be there with you and the others. No matter what happens, take care of yourself. I swear I'll do whatever it takes to reunite all of us again. Watch those two for me, alright? You'll have to be the big brother until I get back. Be strong, be brave. They're sending me somewhere far away to a place in Mistral. Wherever they send me, they won't be used to me or my talent. I'll eventually get out and find you, I promise.'
He never did keep his promise. Maybe he forgot? Maybe he found a place for himself to call home? His older "brother" had been the first to leave them. The first to be sent away to some random family. He was always the reliable one of the group. It's why not knowing what happened to him hurt him so much.
Jaune took a deep breath to steady himself before reaching for the next card. A repurposed pink birthday card greeted him. Red ink dyed the right side of the card while the left side had a warped drawing of a giant ice cream cone with an exclamation mark next to it. Neat penmanship underneath the ice cream cone spelled out, "Triple Scoop."
'Thank you for everything. I'm scared, really scared. I've been scared since they told me I would be going to Vale alone. I would still be crying if you didn't cheer me up. Keep your promise. Next time we meet, I expect the ice cream to be that big and there to be a lot. You have to get the ice cream, you HAVE to. I might share it. Maybe. Your big sis.'
A promise he had yet to fulfill. He owed her, truly owed her. The prospect of returning to Vale to search for her filled him with dread. Death, so much death. He had been young, yet not young enough to get the face of his dying father out of his head or the remains of the other fallen.
Eventually, he'll work up the courage to go hunting for her, to finally leave Atlas. No, he was just lying to himself again. He didn't have the courage to leave Atlas alone. Too many things could go wrong if he did.
He feared what he could do, what he would do if he was given an excuse to leave Atlas on his own. Those responsible for his childhood had been allowed to flee Atlas, to escape before he could do anything. He was afraid of what he would do to them if he ever found them during his search for the others. It scared him how easy it would be to deal with them with his current understanding of his Semblance.
The body had a funny way of reacting to too much stimulation provided by his Aura Amplification Semblance. Speeding up healing for simple surface wounds, maybe a broken bone or some internal injuries? It was fine, perhaps some uncomfortable tingling at most. If he applied a much higher level of Amplification on the heart or the brain? Well, the body could only handle so much stress if the individual did not have their own Aura to protect them.
He shook himself out of his dark thoughts as he reached for the last card. A small light green card filled out with messy handwriting. This card filled him with the most regret, the card left by the youngest of the four. Though she was only a year younger than him, she had always seemed so fragile in comparison.
'Please don't be mad. I picked to be the one to go to Vacuo. My bad family came from there before the monsters freed me at the mountain. You wouldn't like it. All of you are my real family. Family helps family. Let me help you this time. I will never cry again, promise.'
Someone so meek had been brave enough to volunteer to be adopted to a Vacuan family in his place. She could have remained in Atlas, maybe even ended up where he was now. Would it have been better for her? He didn't know. It enraged him that he didn't know where she was or how she was doing.
He had to steady himself as he placed the three cards back into the envelope. He had no idea how to find any of them. He tried searching for them online, but nothing ever came up. He could only hope no news was good news.
Reapplying for his Valean citizenship would be a step in the right direction. Whitley would likely want to visit Weiss and Winter at some point in time after they depart. His pay was much higher here and he did not need to pay rent. If he kept saving up his money, he could have enough set aside to pay some detective somewhere in Vale to investigate things for him.
His search would need to wait until then. Whitley needed him, he was the start of a third family in a way. As much as he wished he could go searching for the others in the here and now, he feared what his departure would do to both Whitley and himself. He knew he wasn't okay, that his own scars were deep.
Whitley may have a talent for seeing through his mask, but he would never dare to burden him with all his internal struggles. He couldn't bring himself to burden Whitley further than he already had with some of his history. Whitley had a lot going on in his life, he didn't need the distraction. It's why he dearly hoped he could rely on Willow just a tiny bit. At the very least, he could be sure his problems would not be mentioned to Whitley through her.
AN: Thus a weird friendship was born between two people with serious baggage. As with the previous bonus chapter, this takes place shortly before Weiss's departure to Beacon. I marked these two as bonus chapters because of them slotting in before the epilogue. Anything after Weiss's departure to Beacon would fall into a follow up sequel.
Didn't really expect to come back to this story, but I've been stuck on my other projects. For whatever reason, this story has just been easy for me to pick up and expand on. Wrote this in three days while a one-shot I was working on has been stuck in writing hell for over two weeks at 1800 words.
Probably enough here to figure out who his three "family members" at the orphanage were. If not, go back to chapter 3 and scroll all the way down to the author notes for the hint at the cipher used for the lock combinations within the fic. Otherwise, check the comments section. Someone else probably solved it already.
Someone asked if Penny was referencing Wasteland 3 during her chapter, she was. At the time I wrote that chapter, I was in the middle of a co-op playthrough. Great game, if very buggy. Steeltown DLC was good; Cult of Holy Detonation was irredeemable trash. Would heavily recommend playing through Wasteland 3, especially if you have Xbox Gamepass since it's included in that last I checked.