The morning after, the two woke up entangled. Opal discarded her body pillow at some point in the night in favor of Adam, leaving them in a mess of tangled limbs and unruly hair. It was a bit awkward for the two, though the tone quickly shifted thanks to Opal's playful jokes and Adam's sarcastic banter. They spent a good amount of time lounging in bed simply enjoying each other's company. She thankfully didn't pry for him to speak up on what had shaken him so badly, simply extending the invitation for when he was ready. When he was ready.
He would never truly be ready.
Adam knew she deserved an answer; and she would get one. Westley had graciously made time to come the next day- though he supposed the man would, considering Adam had specifically asked to speak with him. Adam had made sure to remain reserved and still held onto his stubborn tendencies, so if he asked to meet specifically; it must be of utmost importance. The mood was solem as the older man stepped through the door, wordlessly slipping his muddy shoes off and setting them to the side. Their greetings were brief, neither of the two seemingly willing to put off the coming storm.
However there was still one missing piece.
Westley began making his way up the stairs, Opal settled on the corner living room couch. Adam abruptly stopped in the hallway, his eyes flicking to her. She raised her eyebrows at him, her head cocking to the side. He took a deep breath, his brows knitting as he forced himself to look at her,
"I… want you to hear it. My… story." He choked out, his words threatening to catch in his throat.
Opal blinked, opening her mouth to speak but no words followed. She stood up and shuffled towards him, her brows furrowing,
"Are… Adam are you sure? I don't want you to push yourself-"
"I'm not. But I need to." He grunted, glancing to the side.
She offered a slight nod, glancing at Westley. He was standing at the base of the stairs, doing his best to not stare owlishly at the faunus. Opal smiled before pulling him into a hug, giving him a slight squeeze; exactly how she did the night prior. He let out a soft sigh, hesitantly pulling her in as he rested his chin against the top of her head.
Westley smiled gently at the two, watching them pull apart. He rested his hand under his chin, quirking a brow as they both glanced at him; startled,
"Oh, don't mind me." He waved his hand, heading up the staircase.
They both stepped away from each other, a slight flush on their cheeks. Adam scratched the back of his head before motioning to the stairs,
"Well… let's get this over with." He muttered, glancing to the side.
Opal playfully bumped him with his hip, smiling. He rolled his eyes, unable to stop the slight upturn of his lips as they made their way up the stairs. Westley was already settled in the small attic room, his foot rested on his knee. Opal and Adam settled onto the couch, the faunus taking a deep breath. He felt her fingers brush over his knuckles; reassurance. Adam took a deep breath, his brows knitting as his gaze shifted to the floor,
"I...was born into an Atleasian dust camp. Ever since I could remember it was all I knew. I didn't have a name, I had a number; I didn't have a home, I had a barracks," he paused, clenching his fists, "I was property."
Adam could feel anger bubbling within him, air blowing out of his nose. That same anger he couldn't control. He felt Opal's hand on his back, the simple gesture pulling him back to the moment. She offered a soft smile, gently squeezing his shoulder.
He let out a breath before continuing, brows furrowing,
"#4043, #4341, #7023; those were our names. My… Family," Adam paused, his shoulders relaxing.
A sad smile graced his lips as he thought back, brows knitting,
"My father's name was Azazel; my mother's Rose."
"Rose and Azazel…" Opal whispered thinking back to Adam's symbol, "You carried them with you… all this time."
Adam nodded loosely, gripping his hands,
"The flower for my mother, the thorns for my father- it was the least I could do to honor them," he paused again, closing his eyes, "To remind myself that it was my fault."
"Now Adam-" Westley started, only to be snapped at,
"Don't patronize me!" Adam growled, gritting his teeth.
His body went rigid, his defenses quickly rising. He could feel it- his anger rising at such a simple half statement. The voice in the back of his head told him to reason; that he was only trying to help.
But that didn't matter.
Adam knew why that night haunted him. Not because of the pain, not the loss- but the sheer responsibility of the whole disaster. It was his fault. If he hadn't lashed out, if he'd been a good little slave, if he'd just maybe waited.
They'd still be here. Beaten and broken; but still alive.
He jolted out of his seat, lashing out at Westley,
"Stop trying to tell me it wasn't my fault! You weren't there! You don't know the countless mistakes I made!" He grit his teeth, eyes watering against his will, "Stop telling me that I'm a survivor- that I'm lucky!"
Adam wheezed, his balled fists coming up to his eyes. His body felt hot, though whether it was from anger or anguish; he didn't know,
"I've been a bane to each and every person I've ever come in contact with- no matter how hard I try. No matter…"
Opal gently pulled him back into his seat, watching his body slump. He couldn't show his face, choosing to keep his mixed emotions hidden behind his fists. She gently stroked his back, careful to avoid the wound on his chest. Westley took a deep breath before leaning forward, brows furrowed,
"Adam. I have never meant to offend nor patronize you. However, of all your acts, this one was truly not your fault," He paused as Adam glared across the room, lifting his hand, "Please- allow me to finish."
Adam slumped down further, hoping the cushions would swallow him then and there. Though unfortunately, such things wouldn't happen,
"I know that this is ingrained in you; this guilt. It was a traumatic experience- one that I wish I could prevent not just for you, but for all people on Remnant," Westley looked at him sympathetically, hands folded in his lap, "However the only ones to blame were those who committed the act. You were just a child, Adam. No child should ever need to bear a burden as heavy as yours, much less a loss as traumatic."
"You don't understand… It would have never happened if I'd just…" Adam trailed off, staring at the floor.
Opal rested her hand atop his, dipping her head down to his level,
"Adam whatever you did, it shouldn't have ever justified something so cruel." She cooed, her fingers combing through the hairs on his neck.
He let out a gentle sigh, the comforting sensation bringing a small wash of calm over him. It wasn't enough to replace the pain, but it was something. Westley stayed silent, waiting for the faunus to regain his composure before pressing,
"Are you well enough to continue?"
Opal opened her mouth to retort, before Adam stopped her. He loosely shook his head before smiling weakly. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, offering a small smile in return. He kept hold of her hand, enjoying the simple comfort her touch held. It was a sign of weakness, but frankly he didn't care.
"I'd lashed out the day prior… I was used as an example. As a symbol of how anyone could be beaten down and broken," Adam's fingers brushed against his scar, his body instinctively flinching at the memory-
"ADAM!"
His breath hitched as he closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. His hand began to tremble, his body going rigid. It was so hot, it burned, it-
"Adam- Adam it's okay. Remember, you're safe here." Opal gave his hand another light squeeze, gently tugging on his arm.
He exhaled, his breath seeming more ragged than it was prior,
"I was seven at the time."
"Oh Adam…" She whispered, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb.
Westley closed his eyes, his fingers resting against his temple. He'd seen branding done before- and the effects that came after. Yet on such a young child? He shook his head, his teeth gritting behind his lips. He wracked his mind, his curiosity burning in the back of his mind. Who would do such a horrid thing? To not only treat a child so brutally, but to brand him as property in such a grotesque place?
"Hindenburg…" Westerly breathed out, his hand moving to cover his mouth.
Adam's eyes darted to him, a chill running up his spine,
"How do you know that name?" His voice shook.
He hated it.
"I've had… Many patients, Adam. Only one man is known for such heinous acts." Westley spoke blandly, his eyes trained on the wall behind Adam, "Though he can hardly be called one."
Westley couldn't let his own feelings get the better of him. Regardless of his own thoughts, this wasn't about that beast of a man, nor was it about himself. Adam desperately needed this; to take a step forward, to leave behind the scorching nightmares and biting isolation he attempted to protect himself with. While his bond with Opal had grown, it wouldn't be enough to heal years of mental wounds left to fester,
"If you're alright to, please, continue. I apologize for my… Interruption." Westley forced a smile, beforing nodding to the faunus.
Adam offered a nod, his gaze shifting back towards the floor. It took him a moment to get speaking again; he needed to choose his words carefully, needed to explain himself, needed-
'No.' Adam thought to himself, brows furrowing, 'No I don't. And I never have had to.'
'Not to them.'
He squeezed Opal's hand, silently taking in the room. Fair floral scents flooded the room, the curtains fluttering with each breeze that blew past the opened windows. This wasn't that barren tundra; wasn't a hope-sapping mine. There were no slaves nor taskmasters; no overseers or soldiers.
Just safety.
His free hand brushed across the tightly woven cushions, feeling the slight give under the slight pressure. They waited patiently for him to be at ease, Westley smiling as he watched the faunus wordlessly take in his surroundings.
'So he has been listening to my advice.'
"My parents… they planned to escape- but we were caught. My last memory of him was his goodbyes," his eyes watered as he bit his lip, looking down, "He stayed behind for us to get away. He died because…"
"He loved you," Opal's words were as gentle as her touch, a soft expression on her face, "He did it because he loved you both."
Adam looked at her doubtfully before Westley chimed in,
"I agree with Opal. There is no one to blame but those who committed the act," he smiled solely, "Your father was a brave man by the sounds of it."
"He was," Adam laughed bitterly, "He's likely rolling in his unmarked grave, wondering why he bothered."
"Now Adam; don't say things like that."
"It's the truth," he responded quickly, brows knit, "My father was a man of peace, not a cause of conflict."
Adam looked down at his scared hand- he could almost feel the viscous fluid dripping through his fingers, the grotesque metallic stench only being concealed by the sweet scent of blooms in the room. His palm was soon covered by Opal's, his eyes flicking to her. She was looking down at his feet before glancing to him,
"I won't lie to you. You did cause a lot of pain- a lot of fear," she squeezed his hands, "But you're trying. You're trying to change and you can."
She had such faith in him; hope. Not too far gone, not unredeemable. Opal smiled at him, bumping him gently,
"I know you can."
Adam offered a weak laugh, it quickly dying on his lips,
"I...Thank you," he smiled, his grip on her tightening as he dipped his head down, "Thank you…"
Opal pulled him in, rubbing his back as his forehead rested against her shoulder. She gently nosed his hair, listening to his unsteady breathing. Westley leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face. Truthfully, when Opal had approached him with the proposition, he was minutes from contacting the Atleasian vanguard. He was skeptical during his first session, but the more time he spent with Adam, the more he began to feel for the boy.
That's right; a boy. A boy who had been stripped of his childhood too soon, who was forced into maturity leagues before his time. A life dictated by fear and misguided by hate. He was so quick to judge someone he knew nothing about.
It was a bit embarrassing, to be honest.
It was in his job to never judge another. To hear them when no one else would; to be a safe place. For them to voice their fears and help them in their time of need. Yet when it came to Adam, he was so close to turn his nose up at the faunus. The only reason he hadn't, well-
"Westley love; what if Opal is right? What if he just needs a chance?" Adrien mused, shifting to his side as he propped himself up on his elbow.
"Adrien he's a violent terrorist- there's no changing that." Westley groaned, sinking down into the mattress.
"You never know until you try, darling," the faunus removed his glasses, setting them on the bedside table, "I used to know a man who was quite an angry spitfire; once upon a time…"
Westley smiled as the two pulled away from each other watching them sheepishly glance away from each other,
'Reminds me of a certain couple…' Westley thought to himself, smiling.
Adam went on from there, detailing his childhood, the horrors he faced, the blatant violence he'd endured. The botched escape, the last words shared with his father.
"My mother… she wasn't very strong- but she ran with me in tow for what felt like hours," His breath hitched for a moment, his body tensing, "But they caught up to us. She used everything she had left to throw me forward before… before-"
His voice cracked as he looked down as Opal wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back,
"Shh- it's okay. We understand what happened. It's alright." She hushed, squeezing his hand.
Westley's brows furrowed, his head slightly cocking to the side. He quickly shook his head, blowing air out of his nose,
"I knew something traumatic must've happened but…" he murmured before regaining his composure, "I'm glad you trust us enough to tell your story. I can only imagine how-"
"That's not why I told you," he bit out weakly, looking to the side.
"I mean… I'm glad you told us- but why did you decide to tell us?" Opal asked gently, brows knit.
"I've been having… Nightmares. About them- the ones I attacked, my mother;" Adam's fists clenched, eyes squeezing shut, "about him."
"That night… it was the same as the others. The same I've had month after month but…" he trailed off, fighting the waiver in his voice, "he was there. He took-"
Adam stopped himself, the words dying on his lips. He couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't openly declare how pathetic and dependant he'd become. Even now he hung off her like a scared child, fussing and throwing fits yet melting at sweet words and soft coo's. Worst of all,
He was afraid of his old self.
He was horrified to look back- to think. Survival had been his first priority, then change, then power; then war. His mind wandered back to one of his earlier showers, the hot steam making the room feel suffocating, the water streaming down his body feeling thick and hot.
Red, it was all red- he was drenched from head to toe. He remembered slipping and falling against the wall, clinging to the curtain to keep himself upright. How everything was choked in that horrible red- the sound of the tap drowned out by screams and cries. How his scars burned as if they were still fresh;
How it all stopped as soon as she came.
Opal could bring him back with the smallest touch, with the simplest words, with the more insignificant actions. Anytime he strayed too far, anytime he began to lose himself in his own living nightmare; she was there to pull him out. And the thought of that safety being ripped away- away by him. It made his skin crawl.
He shook the thoughts away, sucking in a deep breath before exhaling,
"I want…. I want it to stop. But I don't know what to do." Adam forced out, brows furrowing.
Westley nodded, leaning back in his seat. He thought for a moment before humming,
"I understand. I have some suggestions if you'd be willing," he glanced to Opal, "for you as well, Opal."
"Of course," she chirped, sitting up in her seat attentively.
Adam nodded, looking down at his feet. He wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or relief, but he suddenly felt drained. Running his fingers through his hair he sighed, slumping down in his seat as the man began,
"For one, I want you to start keeping a dream journal. Write down recurring people, symbolism, places. Anything that you're seeing repeatedly," Westley tapped his pen on the arm of the chair, humming, "I also want you to find a hobby, something to blow off steam, safely."
"Next I want you to rearrange your current sleeping arrangements. Make it comfortable for you, a place that you feel safe in."
"How can I help?" Opal mused, cocking her head.
Westley nodded, resting his foot on his knee,
"Well of course I want you to be there as a support for him. Helping him find good recreation, making a safe space," he smiled at Adam, "You clearly trust her, so I want you to talk with her when you're struggling. Our sessions are important, however sometimes you might require more immediate help."
Adam quietly grumbled to himself, crossing his arms. The idea of being more open made him sick to his stomach- but he just wanted it all to stop. He jolted as Opal took his hand, giving it a squeeze,
"Of course," she smiled at him playfully punching his shoulder, "Plus I can't have you doing badly after pulling you out of the ocean- think of how bad I'd look!"
Opal playfully pouted as Adam scrunched up his nose in feign disgust. The rest of the session went on more smoothly, the feeling of dread no longer as heavy as it once was. Of course Westley knew this was just the beginning, but it was small steps in the right direction. None had ever said his job would be an easy one-
Though it was rewarding when there was results to show.
They said their goodbyes, Adam even willing to offer a hesitant handshake as he left. As progressive as their session has been; something wasn't sitting right with him. Westley frowned, his brows knit as he made his way back to Argus. Listening to survivors stories was always hard- but that wasn't the case currently. Each victim had a unique story, a list of events that led them to their destination. Of course some were similar, but Adam's words echoed in the back of his mind.
As if he'd heard those same words before.
Westley sighed as he pulled his keys from his pocket, his mind elsewhere. As he stepped into the foyer, he wordlessly slipped off his shoes; his gunblade being carefully stored away in the side closet. The soft patter of webbed feet on the wood panels approached, Adrien's head poking out from behind the doorway. The faunus offered a soft smile, placing a soft kiss on his lips as Westley made his way out of the doorway,
"How did it go, love?" Adrien chirped, his fingers gently tucking unruly curls back, "You look exhausted."
Westley chuckled quietly, pulling his husband closer,
"It went… well. I just…" he paused, brows furrowing.
Adrien hummed at the mans conflicted expression, wordlessly leading him to the couch,
"What's bothering you, Wes?"
Westley sat down, rubbing his temples,
"I just… His story- it sounds so... familiar? I just feel as though I've heard it before."
"You've helped many faunus that have come from similar situations; it would make sense to hear similar stories, no?"
"Perhaps you're right- mayhaps I'm just overthinking the whole situation," Westley smiled gently, kissing Adrien's temple, "Thank you, my love."
"If I am then help me finish up dinner." He cooed, jumping as Westley made a swat for his behind as he got up, "Westley Dietrich Fromm! Have you no manners?"
Westley grinned, quirking a brow at the other as he leaned forward,
"You haven't gotten all the delinquent out of me just yet."
Adrien playfully scolded him, shaking his head,
"Oh you little… get over here!"
Westley laughed, pulling himself off the couch. He made his way to the kitchen, Adrien slightly bumping him with his hip. They finished up dinner quite quickly, Adrien fetching the silverware while Westley carried the plates; it was best for the faunus to carry the non breakable items. Settling down at the table, the brunette hummed, his chin resting on his hand.
They chatted as they ate, Adrien rattling on about his mundane day, a breath of fresh air from his emotionally charged session prior,
"Oh, and mum is doing just fine," he placed a hand on his chest, letting out a breath, "She was one of the first to be evacuated to Atlas and was safe."
Westley nodded, as he took a sip of his drink, humming,
"That's good news. I was worried for her with the scale of that attack on Mantle. Hard to believe all that's happening these...days…" he trailed off, brows furrowing.
"I know; it's hard to believe with everything-" Adrien paused, looking at Westley with concern, "Wes? Is something wrong?"
Westley dropped his cup, the glass clattering as it hit the table. The brunettes hand clasped over his mouth, Adrien jumping at the action,
"Westley!" He quickly got up, his hands darting to the others face; "What's wrong?! Do I need to call someone?!"
"I know her."
"What? Westley, what are you talking about?" Adrien blinked, turning the other to look at him, "Know who?"
Westley's eyes flicked from the table to his husband, the look of shock solidified on his face,
"I know Adam's mother."
