So glad to see everyone enjoying some of the big story moments so far! I'm always really happy to see your comments and hope you all continue to enjoy what's to come!


Westley stared out the window, watching the frozen tundra blur together below him. His knee idly bounced as he leaned back in his seat, sighing deeply. He was by no means happy with what strings he had to pull to make this trip happen, and even less pleased with the destination.

Atlas; the city in the sky.

A technological marvel, the pinnacle of strength and status amongst Remnant- so they claimed.

Westley hated the city. Hated what it stood for, what it represented. A divide; privilege amongst men as if it's leaders and talking heads were something bordering on god-like. It made him sick just knowing how his own upbringing differed from those in Mantle. How those being raised there at this very moment were blind to the struggles of others. He saw the city appear through the clouds, grimacing at its uncharacteristically gnarled state.

His knuckles turned white as the ship landed, brows furrowing. He stood up, exhaling through his nose-

'Back straight, eyes forward, chin up.' He thought to himself, putting on a stoic expression.

He made his way down the steps, nodding to the disgruntled soldier at the end of the bridge.

"Westley."

Westley looked to the voice, a slight frown tugging at his lips,

"Edith."

The woman's brown hair was pulled back in a neat bun, her eyes sharp. Her arm was in a sling, the other firmly behind her back,

"I was surprised to see your request to come home- though I suppose it isn't a pleasure visit after all." She droned, quirking a brow.

"What can I say; I have deep concern for my patients," his shoes crunched against the snow caked landing strip, eyes shifting to her, "I'm glad you're alright."

Edith offerer an amused noise, a small smirk pulling on the corners of her lips,

"Strange to hear that coming from your lips, Wes." She hummed, tilting her chin up at him.

"Getting sentimental, Edi? How unlike you," he chuckled, raising a brow, "Remember to take care of yourself; Brothers know the core won't."

Westley heard her mutter, deciding to let the jab slide. He swiftly made his exit from the landing base, giving sharp looks anytime one dared to watch him pass. Most knew who he was- though not why he was here. His presence in Atlas was practically nonexistent. Being seen in Mantle was a common occurrence, though his home city not so much. Ever since his relationship with Adrien began, his family grew ever distant.

After they were engaged, their contact ceased completely. Not that he was surprised.

He eyed the sterile architecture, frowning as he took in the uncharacteristically marred by prior damage. A sigh escaped him as he traversed the town, each person he passed more somber than the last,

'I suppose the shock is still settling in.' He thought to himself, turning the corner into the more residential areas.

The neighborhoods seemed mostly unscathed- likely due to the higher amount of protection over the area. Most buildings appeared identical; sleek, modern townhouses and apartments uniformly slotted down the streets.

How boring.

Westley stuffed his hands in his coat pockets as he walked, tucking his chin further into his scarf. He could only assume the heating grid must have been damaged in some way. It was unusual for Atlas to be this cold. His bitter mood changed as he ventured into a seemingly older neighborhood; still high class but holding much more charm than the one prior.

Townhouses and apartments differed; some built up of cobblestone, some of aged wood with detailed inlays. He made his way up the path to one, smiling at the delicate molding that accented the doorframe. Barren planters lined the pathway, most likely risen after the cold had set in. Taking a deep breath, Westley rang the bell, his hands clasping behind his back as he waited.

"Coming!" He heard from the other side of the door.

The door unlocked, the man blinking,

"Mr. Fromm? I'm surprised to see you- what are you doing in Atlas?"

He was a bit older than Westley, his swept back blonde hair peppered with silver streaks. He had a gentle expression, his soft green eyes filled with confusion.

"Now now, no need for such formalities. I was concerned for you two after what's happened and…" Westley paused, brows furrowing, "I have something of the utmost importance to talk with you two about, Xander."

Xander cocked his head a bit, before holding the door open,

"I… see. Please come in."

The small home was clean and refined, modern minimal elements mixed with a more soft classical touch. Westley careful took off his shoes, setting them by the door,

"You don't have to take them off if you prefer; it's quite alright."

"Just a habit, my friend. Adrien would have my head knowing I dirtied someone's floor." He chuckled, smiling.

"Westley; dear what are you doing all the way up in Atlas?"

Westley looked up, offering a small smile,

"Unfortunately, it isn't a pleasure visit," he paused, tucking his hands behind his back,

"I have things of utmost importance to discuss with you, Rose."

Her ears perked up, soft red curls framing her face. Her blue eye was contrasted by the eyepatch that covered her left; it was a large silk rose and leaves, small gold embellishments hanging across her cheek. The scars across her chest and shoulders were exposed by the shoulder less dress she wore, the haunting marks old and faded.

"Oh- yes, of course. Is everything alright?"

"Yes everything is fine but… it will make more sense when I explain."

Rose nodded, beckoning the two men over,

"I just tidied up the den- Xander just started a fire as well." She smiled, heading to the couch.

"I'll get us some drinks- you're a coffee man if I remember?" Xander hummed, heading to the kitchen.

"Yes, if it's not too much trouble. The flight to Atlas was quite… tiring."

Westley headed to the den, his gaze shifting to Rose. She idly fluffed the pillows before smoothing out the throw blanket placed on one of the cushions. He looked to the armchair off to the side, his eyes softening.

A small stuffed bear was propped up in the seat; its fur was fully matted, the buttons that took place of its eyes clearly resewn time and time again. Patches here, mended tears there. Regardless it looked well taken care of, despite its age.

"What was it you needed to talk to us about, Westley?"

They settled down on the couch, Westley taking a deep breath as he caught eye contact with her,

"I need you to swear to me: nothing I say can leave this house, understand?"

Rose nodded hesitantly, brows knit with concern,

"I understand, but I've never seen you so… Scattered? I don't mean to offend but-"

"Not at all, Rose. It's true I've been… conflicted. Quite a bit has happened as of late."

Her lips pursed as she looked at him with concern, offering another nod. Westley took a deep breath before locking eyes with her,

"Rose- is Adam Taurus; the prior Whitefang leader, your son?"

She looked startled at the mentioned, her lips pulling into a thin line,

"No-no; Westley my son died 14 years ago, you know that." She held her arms, eyes watering, "I… I don't understand…"

"What are you on about, Westley?" Xander set the mugs down on the coffee table, the man slightly bristling and his blunt question.

"I don't mean to bring up any painful memories, you know that," He took the mug, watching the steam rise from it, "However…"

"However?" He mused, brows furrowing.

"Rose I believe Adam Taurus is your son," his breath hitched as he looked to her, "Because…"

'What is stopping you from getting arrested right now?' Echoed in the back of his head, brows furrowing, 'No- Regardless I can't keep her in the dark about this.'

"Because he told me your story."

"What?!" Xander bit out, quickly moving to pull the curtains shut, "Westley are you insane?! You're speaking with a known terrorist?!"

"Xander listen-" he began, sitting up in his seat, "Trust me I know, I had the same reaction-"

"Look it doesn't matter what I think; if someone finds out-" he rubbed his temples gritting his teeth, "And we were past this! You yourself reasoned that it was nothing more than Atlas trying to smear a dead boys name!"

"I am aware of the risk that I am taking, Xander. And so is Adrien- we made this decision together." Westley replied firmly, holding his position, "I would not have come to you two unless I had ample reason to believe it was him."

It was his job to be an advocate for anyone who went through any sort of trauma- and he would not make the same misjudgement as before. Rose sat on the couch, staring at her feet. Her hands came up to her mouth as her eyes watered, her breath hitching. The two men's attention shifted to her, Xander immediately kneeling in front of her,

"Rose- are you alright?"

"No-no it can't be him it-" she whispered, her voice soft and weak, "His...His face- does he…?"

"The brand?" Westley sighed, "He… Yes. And many more scars in addition."

Xander rested his thumb and forefinger against his chin, brows knit tightly,

"You really believe that, that… Man… That it's him?"

"I would not have made this journey if I had any reason to believe otherwise."

Rose's ears drooped against her head, her body trembling,

"It's my fault-" she choked out, letting out a sob, "I never looked for him; I gave up hope and… and…"

Rose doubled over, sobbing into her hands,

"I've failed my son, again!" She cried, shaking her head.

Her ears flattened against her head, Westley's hand resting on her back as he sat back down,

"Rose…I'm-"

"No. Don't apologize to me," she wiped her eyes, looking to the small bear nestled in the corner chair, "There are no words to describe what kind of mother I've been."

Rose looked to Westley, grabbing his arms,

"Is he well? You're human and he's speaking with you- is he better? Is he safe?" Her tightened as she spoke, tears still threatening to spill over.

"He's… progressing. But he's in a lot of pain, Rose. Mentally," he placed his hand atop of hers, looking at her with a gentle gaze, "He believes your dead, Rose. He blames himself for you and Azazel. I believe that's where his path… began in a sense."

Rose's hand clasped over her mouth again as more tears spilled from her eyes,

"If I had looked for him- If I had done something."

Xander shook his head, taking a seat on the other side of the woman,

"This burden isn't only yours. I… hold responsibility as well. I should have intervened before that day even happened."

The man looked down, clasping his hands together,

"I'm sorry, Rose. I'm sorry that I couldn't do more- no. No, that I didn't do more."

Rose leaned into him, shaking her head as he held her. Westley smiled sadly at the two, giving them their moment. Xander had been the one to initially approach him all those years ago, seeking help for Rose. He originally thought them as a couple- the naive notion of forbidden love as he came to realize.

Though that had never been the case.

It had become clear to him that while the two were close; there were no romantic feelings involved. They cared deeply for each other, but for Rose, no one could ever replace her husband. While Xander's original dedication to the woman's care stemmed from guilt, it didn't take long for them to grow closer; the feeling of duty soon became a desire for companionship. She took a deep breath, tucking her hair behind her ear,

"I… I'm sorry, Westley. I just…"

"No need to apologize, Rose. It's understandable with what I just told you." Westley smiled weakly, glancing to Xander, "And as I feel as though I have said quite often lately; those who committed the act are the ones who should bear this responsibility."

"Yet we know such things will never happen." The man sighed deeply, eyes closing.

Rose place a hand on his forearm,

"Xander, please don't blame yourself. You've helped so many faunus over your time-"

"But how many more had to die because I didn't act quickly enough?" He snapped out, before looking away, "I… Apologize. I didn't mean to be snappish, it's just…"

"A delicate subject, I'm sure." Westley finished, Xander nodding in response.

"Can I… can I see him?" Rose whispered, a conflicted look on her face.

"That's what I came to inquire about. It's a delicate subject but I believe that keeping something like this from him would cause more pain than facing his reality."

Rose nodded weakly, taking the handkerchief Xander offered to her,

"He… he will truly hate me, won't he?"

"Now Rose-" Xander began, only to be dismissed with a shake of her head,

"No. No Xander; he will have good reason to not accept me. I will accept that judgment-" she smiled sadly, dabbing her eyes, "I just want to see that he's safe- that he's alive."

Rose sniffled, offering a weak laugh,

"My son is alive…" she sobbed again as Xander wrapped his arm around her, her head resting against his chest.

"I'll see what strings I can pull to get you down to Argus," he scratched the back of his head, "However… I'm not sure how he'll react. So best be prepared for anything."

The two nodded, taking a moment of silence to let the information sink in. Westley and Xander discussed the upcoming trip, Rose staring down at her cup wordlessly,

"I believe I can… persuade Edith to arrange something." Westley hummed, scratching at his beard.

"Perhaps my prior association with the military may be of some assistance;" Xander smiled, "Though I suppose my discharge may result in some questions."

Westley chuckled a bit at that, shaking his head,

"No need, Xander. I view it as my responsibility to take care of your arrangements."

Xander offered a nod, leaning back in his seat. Rose's chin was rested on her thumb and forefinger, brows furrowed. She'd been quiet since they'd begun talking about their travel arrangements. It was a bit worrisome to Westley, though it was understandable; however the woman looked as if she had something to say, but lacked the intention to speak up.

"Rose? Is everything alright?" He inquired, cocking his head slightly.

Her ears flicked towards him, blinking. The area around her bright blue eye was still slightly raw from crying; it reminded him of Adam. Though instead of pain and anguish, it was filled with uncertainty and hope.

"Oh- I… yes. Yes I just…" she paused, a sad smile on her face, "Westley would you… tell me about him?"

Rose glanced up at him, brows knitting,

"I believe you know him more than I, now. I just… wish to know what kind of man he's become."

Westley's eyes widened before he smiled gently, offering a soft chuckle,

"Well… he's an interesting character, I'd say."

"How did you two meet?"

She smiled, leaning forward. The corners of her eye wrinkled, her lips pursed with interest. He could see the slight glassiness in her eyes, her worry and doubt overshadowed by hope. He took a sip of his coffee, humming. Of course, he'd stay true to his word; all that he'd spoken to Adam about would be kept to himself. Though some of the others more domestics and vague description of his current lifestyle couldn't hurt,

"Let's just say it wasn't the most peaceful meeting…."