I'M ALIVE! With everything going on work has been hell and writing has taken a bit of a backseat. I hope you all enjoy the new chapter regardless!

_

"Can you hand me the shovel?" Opal mused, shifting the pot under her.

Adam haphazardly kicked the shovel across the balcony, fumbling with the planter in his hands,

"Right, because you've really got your hands full." He muttered, grumbling, "Why are we digging through pots full of dirt again, exactly?"

"Because Spring is coming and we need everything ready once the snow melts."

"Once again, why?"

Opal rolled her eyes, dusting off her gloved hands,

"You have to be self sustainable out here, Adam. I try to avoid going to the city as much as I can- I figured you'd appreciate that."

Adam offered a grunt, not having much of a retort to that. He supposed it was smart; their trek to the city took a good forty-five minutes, and that was without an excess of items to carry. He suppressed a sigh, placing the pot in his arms on a nearby stand. She childishly stuck her tongue out at him, his face twisting into a look of disapproval.

"You're no fun."

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

Adam snorted, smirking at her,

"It is to me."

Opal let out an exaggerated groan, dusting off her pants,

"Well, I don't know about you but I'm starving."

She gave him a hard slap on the back, making her way down the balcony stairs,

"Let's go, grumpy!"

Adam rolled his eyes as he watched her bounce down the steps, swinging herself around the railing near the end. He followed after her, his boots clunking down the stairs. The week had gone by in a blur, full of mundane domestics and playful banter. And the worst part; he enjoyed it.

He felt content waking up in the small cozy room. He enjoyed cooking with Opal and having their playful banter. While he still had his demons nipping at his ankles, he felt safe. His eyes traveled to the slowly melting mounds of snow, a sigh escaping him.

Finally they'd be done with this wretched winter. It had been better than most he'd experienced, but it definitely wasn't moving up on his list of preferred seasons- considering the near death experience.

"Come on, slowpoke!" Opal called from the porch, hand on her hip, "Before I lock you out."

Adam sneered, turning his nose up at her as he made his way over,

"Do it; if you want to pay for a new door."

She puffed out her cheeks in defiance, as perusal. Turning on her heel, Opal offered a playful 'hmph!' before disappearing into the home. Her voice carried from the kitchen as he made his way under the awning, his foot not even coming in contact with the carpet before he was snapped at,

"Don't you dare walk past that doormat with those boots on!"

Adam groaned, rolling his eyes as he began unlacing his boots. He placed them on the nearby shoe rack, heading to the kitchen to wash the soil from his hands.

"So are you excited to talk with Westley again?"

A disgruntled sound escaped him, scrubbing his palms harder,

"Oh of course. I love having my brain probed."

"Don't be so dramatic; he's trying to help."

"You're lucky I'm even humoring him. I don't need a damn human to tell me how to fix my problems."

She offered a soft hum, quirking a brow at him as she shut the fridge,

"You'd be surprised. There's a lot about him you don't know."

Adam offered a sound of disinterested, rolling his eyes. Opal rolled her eyes at his response, sliding his plated sandwich across the counter,

"I made lunch, you make dinner."

"What do we have?"

She took a bite of her sandwich, offering a light shrug,

"Pasta?"

Adam leaned against the counter, offering a shrug in return. They ate their lunch in a comfortable silence, only occasionally interrupted by random conversation. Opal had eventually moved to the couch, nose buried in a book. The faunus simply sat himself in the old armchair in front of the back window, eyes closed. He'd been doing his best to sort out his cluttered mind, but it felt futile the more he tried.

His recurring nightmare was exhausting, and overwhelming amounts of coffee could only do so much. It was the same thing, every night. He could almost feel the frigid Atleasian winds nipping at his skin; eyes staring at him.

"You're a monster." Blake hissed, her expression cold, eyes dulled.

"Nothing but a fake, a coward; pathetic." The blonde taunted.

"Why did you have to fight?" He could hear his mothers weak voice.

"Adam?"

The faunus jumped, retreating back from her touch as if he'd been scalded. His breath was a bit uneven as he cleared his throat, rubbing his eyes. He could see the concern on her face, but she chose to let it go.

"Well… Westley is here. I um. I cleaned up the attic room for you two; I thought you'd like the privacy."

Adam nodded numbly, standing up a bit more stiffly than he'd meant. He hadn't even heard Westley come in, regardless of the man shuffling around in the doorway. His eyes drifted to the rather old looking gunblade that was now propped against the coat rack, eyes darting between the weapon and the older man shrugging off his coat.

"I didn't take you as a huntsman type." Adam spat, glaring at the brunette.

Westley blinked, staring at the faunus for a moment before realization sunk in,

"Ah- Not to worry, I didn't either," he smiled, waving his hand, "But that's a story for another time, hm?"

Adam let out a grunt, rolling his eyes. What was that suppose to mean? Opal began corralling him up the stairs, Westley not far behind. He wasn't thrilled about being thrown in the attic, but there was no point in making a fuss. He knew Opal wouldn't let him slither away.

Opal ducked to not knock her head on the low ceiling, Westley following suit. It was clear the older man knew his way around the home as well as Opal did.

He didn't know how to feel about that.

Opal nudged the door open, pushing it the rest of the way open with her shoulder. The room contrasted the dark attic; large bay windows letting in the soft afternoon light. Planters littered the room, bright and colorful foliage lining the windowsills and walls. A small purple couch was placed in the corner, bringing even more color into the room. He supposed any plants that she couldn't grown during the harsh winters were shoved here.

"Hopefully this is cozy enough for you two. I'll bring up some tea in a bit, too." Opal chirped, smiling as Westley gave her a pat on the head.

She offered a playful swat at his hand as a sound of amusement escaped him,

"You don't have to do that, hun."

"No no, it's fine. Really." She hummed, slipping out the door, "You two can get started!"

Before either of them could speak, she was out the door, leaving the two alone. Westley let out a quiet chuckle, raising a brow,

"She's just like her father."

"Hn.."

Westley smiled brightly at the faunus, taking a seat on the stool across from the couch,

"So how has your week been?"

Adam gave him a suspicious look, brows furrowed,

"...fine."

"Anything you and Opal have been up to? I noticed she's already getting ready for Spring."

"If you mean elbow deep in barren pots of dirt, the yes," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Not much of a gardener, hm?"

Westley laughed, resting his foot on his knee,

"I'm glad you're there to help her. Would likely take her twice as long without help."

"Alright, drop it."

"Excuse me?"

Adam sneered, crossing his arms as he stared Westley down,

"Cut the shit. You're acting as if we're friends and we're not. I want to get this over with so get to the prodding before I lose my patience."

Westley simply stared at the younger for a moment, before offering a soft chuckle. He raised a brow, shifting in his seat,

"I'm not here to dissect you, Adam. Our initial session was so I had a good idea of what was going on," Westley paused, humming, "I simply wish to get to know you better. Whether it be your struggles or mundane domestics."

Adam sat wide eyed before offering another sneer, shrinking into himself. It felt… forgein. The idea of simply talking to someone without reason. Though he supposed there was a reason. He'd openly admit he had problems; not only to Opal, but to Westley the week prior. While he liked to think he could handle himself, in this regard he was lost. He'd always been physically fit, strong enough to hold his own. No one challenged him and he had thrived off the fear of others.

What did he have to be afraid of if he was always on the top?

After his near death encounter, it felt like his world came crashing down. He'd tried to stay strong, but fear didn't work anymore. He hadn't been strong enough to even get out of bed on his own. Adam eyed the dense foliage around the windows, lips parting,

"...She insists that I help her with rooting around in dirt all day."

Westley smiled at that, leaning back in his chair,

"Oh?"

--

Adam brought the teacup to his lips, rolling his eyes at the older man,

"Tch, I'd rather spend my time on that godforsaken island rather than Atlas."

"I don't blame you. As one who grew up there, the people are quite…" Westley stopped himself, adjusting his tie, "Un...cooperative."

"Uncooperative. Right." He spat, letting out a grunt.

"Trust me when I say I'm more than aware of the personalities that linger in that city; seeing as I have not only a husband, but a faunus husband."

Adam let out a noise of acknowledgement, brows furrowing.

"My family was quite… Involved in the military, so I'm aware of their thinking- unfortunately. 'm just glad I never had to interact with any Colonels."

Westley frowned, brows knitting. It was clear the older man knew something he didn't. Adam frowned, head tilting to the side,

"Which ones? Though I guess toy soldiers with tin metals all tend to blur together." He let out a 'tch', eyeing the brunette.

"That's not important."

"What, afraid I'm going to track them down?"

"I… Prefer to not reflect on the past. I also don't want to bring any unsavory feelings to be brought to light."

Westley took a sip of his tea, quirking a brow. Adam was suspicious, but he didn't push any further. He supposed the man was use to others being more sensitive on the topic- maybe he'd even had an adverse reaction in the past.

"Though I believe our time is up. As before, I'd like to talk with you again next week as well-

Westley placed his teacup down, his scroll buzzing in response. The older man glanced to Adam, offering a nod in response. He flicked open his scroll, offering a soft hum,

"Hello, darling. Yes. Yes I'm- We're finishing up now. I'll be home soon,"

Westley chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes,

"I love you too, dear." He ended the call with a click, his scroll snapping shut, "Sorry about that; as I was saying next...week…"

Adam stared at him blankly, making his brows furrow as his words trailed off.

"Azazel!" Rose sobbed, holding Adam close to her chest as she turned to look back, tears streaming down her cheeks, "I love you!"

Azazel glanced back, offering a sad smile, "I love you too, dear."

"Papa!" Adam sobbed, reaching over his mother's shoulder.

"Adam?"

Westley hesitantly stood up, taking a step closer to the faunus. He didn't move, eyes staying trained on the now empty seat he'd been in before. There was a soft knock on the door, Opal peeking in,

"Are you two done? It's been about an hour so-"

"Opal has he done this before?"

She looked at him with confusion before glancing to Adam, eyes widening,

"Oh no no no. Yes he has but he snapped back out of it pretty quick." She was quick to make her way to him, only to be stopped by Westley's hand in front of her.

Opal frowned, brows still knit with concern,

"He's disassociating. With his past we don't want to do anything to trigger him further," Westley looked back to Adam, "Move slow. He trusts you the most out of the two of us, be patient."

She bit her lip, slowly sitting down on the couch next to him. Her hand hesitantly rested on his leg,

"...Adam? You're okay. You're here with us."

Opal glanced to Westley, the man giving her a small nod to continue,

"You're safe. We're… I'm here for you."

Adam twitched, eyes hesitantly flicking to her. She heard his breath hitch, immediately breaking eye contact as he let out a shaky breath. Opal was quick to wrap her arms around him at the sign of clarity, resting her head on his shoulder,

"It's okay. You're okay." She cooed as he jolted slightly, her fingers gently brushing over the back of his hand.

Westley wordlessly watched the two, not wanting to disturb the moment. Adam shook his head, hands slowly coming up to rub his temples. More shaky breaths escaped him as he pulled himself back to reality, unconsciously leaning into Opal's embrace.

He was here. Here with them; with her.

"What's happening to me…" he forced out, body tensing.

Westley frowned, brows knitting,

"Disassociation is common in trauma survivors. It's nothing to be ashamed of," he looked between the two, "I believe…"

Westley paused,

"Would you like Opal to leave or do you mind if she's here?"

Opal glanced at Adam, squeezing his hand,

"I can go; if that makes you more comfortable-"

"No." He was quick to grab her hand, body stiffening.

She was his anchor, whether he would admit it or not. As pathetic as he looked, the last thing he wanted was to go back to that place. While he bristled and snapped at her, her soft warmth overshadowed the frigid cold reminders of Mantle any day. Westley offered a slight nod, scratching at his beard,

"Adam I… believe you have post traumatic stress disorder, amongst other things. It's very soon to say for sure, seeing as it's only your second session, however after today my thoughts on the matter are a bit stronger."

Adam's fists clenched, teeth gritting. He stayed quiet, keeping his head down turned. He couldn't look either of them in the eyes.

Weak. He felt so damn weak.

Being chased around by old memories and skeletons in his closet, it was pathetic. Cowering under a human girl for comfort and stability; what had happened to him?

"Adam?" Opal's voice was soft, her tone as if she was speaking to a small child.

It would usually anger him, her treating him like a piece of china. Though the cup was already broken and chipped; cracked. His shoulders slumped, the feeling of defeat washing over him,

"I know." His voice was weak, eyes trailing to look at anything but the two.

"You know?" Westley mused, raising a brow.

"I...I've known. For a long time. I just chose to ignore it. I…." Adam paused, eyes squeezing shut, "I didn't want to be...weak."

Opal held him close, frowning,

"You're not weak, Adam. You've been through so much; just let us help you."

Adam let out a sigh, leaning back against the cushions. He turned his palm over, the feeling of her fingertips tracing over the scars across his digits relaxing him. Being touched was never something he was fond of, though he supposed he'd never given it a chance prior. Westley hummed, glancing between them once more,

"I'd like you both to do some research on the disorder. Being educated is the best thing both of you can do," his eyes trailed to Adam, "I believe it may bring you peace of mind as well, understanding why you feel certain ways."

Adam offered a grunt in response, keeping his eyes trained on the nearby bush. Opal continued to idly rub his hand, looking to the older man,

"Okay, if you could send me some links and articles, I'll look into them. I just want to make sure I'm reading the right thing."

"Of course. I'll be sure to send you a reliable source," He stood up, "If anything happens, or if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to reach out to me."

Opal nodded, smiling,

"Thank you, Wes. I- we appreciate it."

Adam finally looked to Westley, offering a weak nod in return. He smiled, adjusting his cuffs,

"Anytime. I'm happy to help."

They both showed Westley out, Adam still curious on the older weapon the man carried. As soon as he left, the faunus sunk into the couch, covering his face with his hands. His eyes squeezed shut, body tensing. The cushion sunk next to him, not that he minded. Opal leaned back with him, resting her head on his shoulder,

"We'll get through this."

A sigh escaped him, peeking at her through his fingers. The feeling of exhaustion washed over him, causing him to sink further into the couch,

"I know."