… …
… …
… …
He jerked awake from a dreamless sleep. Nearly every part of his body ached. And small wonder – on such a hard, unyielding bed as this, it was unthinkable that he would get any sort of rest. Father would hear about this soon enough.
Whitley Schnee looked around his current room in a daze, unsure of where he even was. It didn't look like any room he'd ever stayed in before, but seeing as how Father chose their lodgings on all business trips, that was obvious – the man would settle for nothing less than the absolute best, and Whitley agreed.
After all, he was a Schnee. His was a name that demanded respect.
The young man turned and tried to stand up, but found himself without proper shoes. Also, the floor was bare rock. Also, one wall of his room was made up entirely of rusted iron bars. Shameful… couldn't they bother to keep this place clean for an elite guest such as him? And why bars?!
When he tried calling for someone to come running to his service, Whitley's voice failed to respond – all he produced was a dry wheeze. Eventually he looked and found himself swathed in numerous bandages, though he had no idea why. The last thing he remembered was… … … was… … … going to sleep in the passenger car of that train. The one he had been assured was safe to travel on.
Had he been drugged? Kidnapped? Father would have someone's hide if he was badly hurt.
A shuffling noise drew his attention, and Whitley watched as someone entered the space on the other side of the bars. The space that had a door that led outside. The newcomer quickly demanded his full attention, however, as the mask over their face was more than slightly familiar.
A White Fang mongrel. In full uniform, with that disgusting red emblem painted across their back.
Whitley tried to demand information, to know where he was and why he was imprisoned… but his voice remained silent. He could only hope the beast could figure out his words through reading his lips.
The mongrel stared quietly at the young Schnee, seemingly impassive as Whitley had his silent tantrum. He could see now that it was a woman – the shape was more obvious when she turned – and he could also make out two cat-like ears sticking out over her mask. Faunus ears. The left one looked torn-up, though, like someone or something had taken a bite out of it. The uniform covered everything except the woman's mouth and chin, where he noticed she had very dark skin.
The masked woman strode back to the entrance and spoke, likely to the guard just beyond, saying, "He's awake." Her voice was deep enough that Whitley could have mistaken her for a man. She walked back over to her previous spot and stood staring at him, saying nothing more.
Whitley tried again to demand answers, but the woman remained quiet. Was she ignorant? Spiteful? Surely no one could mistake a Schnee for a common prisoner! Father would have this whole lot throttled for such a slight.
More minutes passed as he heard activity outside, but neither Whitley nor his captor made any move. Both waited for whatever would happen next.
"Well, well, well… it appears our guest has come to his senses," a new, more masculine voice cawed as the man who owned it stepped into the room. The man's black Faunus horns glittered in the dim light of the space, and his black outfit seemed to soak up all the light that was left.
Whitley didn't need to see the face behind the mask to know who Adam Taurus was. His reputation preceded him wherever he went. Here was a man… no, a beast… who delighted in causing chaos, killing humans, and giving Father nothing but grief every single day. His blade sat at his side, ready and willing to aide in his crimes.
Whitley must have been showing his emotions on his face, for Adam took one look at him and laughed. "Ha! As expected… even the baby of the Schnee family can act tough! Good… I'd hate to grow bored before we're done playing with you."
Whitley took a cautious step back, giving the Faunus another reason to laugh.
"Don't worry, boy… We won't start until the drug wears off in a day or two. I wanna hear you scream!"
Trying to ignore the implications of such a threat, Whitley tried to speak again… only to find himself still mute. Instead, he tried to mouth the word 'ransom.' Even a beast like Adam Taurus should understand what he meant with that.
"There will be no ransom letter, no demands, and no compromise, boy. This isn't about money – your family has directly caused the suffering of all Faunus across Remnant, and we will have our revenge… starting with you."
Adam turned to leave, but stopped when he caught sight of the silent Faunus woman. Whitley could just see his mouth stretch into a sneer.
"See her?" he asked rhetorically as he pointed, "…this one will be your keeper. She is in charge of keeping you fed and making sure you don't die. She has no name… … … she is Disgraced." The Faunus practically spat the last word.
When Adam looked back at him, Whitley simply gave a shrug. Why should he care which animal is in charge of giving him food?
But then Adam gave her a casual slap across the face… and she dropped to the ground, clutching her cheek like the man had tried to claw it off with a fork. He could clearly hear her suppressing a scream of pain. Whitley swallowed hard – if these animals treated their own in such a way, how would he fare against them?
The simple answer was… he wouldn't. All he could do was rely on Father to send him a rescue before it was too late. Father wouldn't let his only son endure such an inhuman trial as this.
Adam knelt down and grabbed the Disgraced woman's wrist and tore the glove off, eliciting another muffled scream, and Whitley finally saw the reason for her behavior – she had an experimental Schnee Dust Company device firmly embedded in the skin on the back of her hand. Even from a distance, Whitley could clearly see how thick the veins stood out around the thin metal plate… the one with the Schnee emblem stamped on it.
Once again, Adam seemed to read his thoughts from his face. "I take it you know what this is?" he snarled.
Whitley didn't even try to answer this time. He simply nodded. He knew about it because he was somewhat involved in it's design and assembly – it was intended to be used as a torture device. It worked by increasing the sensitivity of the body's pain receptors by a factor of 50.
How in the nine hells did the White Fang get hold of it? How?!
"Good. Saves me the trouble." Adam threw the woman's wrist back down, ignoring the pained cries, and stood back up. "Enjoy your solitude, boy. When you see me again, your time in Hell will begin." And with that, Adam Taurus left.
Whitley didn't bother trying to speak anymore, as he knew there was no point. Even if he could speak, he knew these beasts had no intention of keeping him comfortable in any way. All he could do was sit and wait for Father to come and take him home.
A clattering sound drew his attention back to his jailer, and Whitley was once again surprised at the face of a Faunus… but one he would never have expected to be referred to as Disgraced.
Sienna Khan. The so-called High Leader of the White Fang.
'Disgraced'…?
She didn't bother trying to catch her mask as it fell to the floor, instead leaning herself against the wall while she tried to catch her breath. It was clear she was in a lot of pain, but all Whitley cared about was that she could continue to do her job and make sure he got food. Her pain was not his concern.
Those amber eyes finally opened and looked at him, quickly growing hostile. "If you… think to pity me…" she gasped, "then I shall… come in there and… claw your eyes out…!"
Whitley kept his face neutral as she glared at him, hoping she would understand that he didn't care enough for pity. Not today, when he was her prisoner. He didn't have any pity to spare.
When she eventually stood to her feet, her glare softened slightly. She bent down with a grimace and recovered her mask, saying, "You're due a meal in a few hours. I'll be back then."
This caused the young Schnee's eyebrows to shoot up nearly to his hairline. Now who was showing pity?
The woman formerly known as Sienna caught the look before she left and scoffed, saying, "Don't get the wrong idea, boy… Adam wants to break you. He wants you to suffer… … … but I'll have no part of it."
An iron door closed behind her as the Disgraced Faunus left Whitley alone in his cell. Alone with his thoughts. And his confusion.
What on Remnant was he in for? How long would it take for Father's rescue forces to arrive and kill all of them? And would he get a chance to gather any autographs if… gods willing… Father convinced General Ironwood to send his Ace-Ops? He could only hope.
Whitley was a big fan of Clover Ebi, the charismatic leader of the group. If not him, then maybe the Bree woman.
… …
_/_/_/_/_/
Weiss seemed radiant as she walked across the floor of the auditorium. She proudly wore the gray and white uniform of Atlas Academy, the school where she was to spend the next four years of her life. Winter was in the line of Specialists that stood near General Ironwood, and she wore her gentlest smile – which, for Winter, meant she was very close to bursting out in a loud cheer.
Whitley wasn't there in person, of course; Father wouldn't allow him to attend the entrance ceremony. Instead, he was watching the live feed on his Scroll from the house.
His sister was the second Schnee to abandon the family business and join the Military Academy, and Father was just a few sips of coffee away from putting a hole in the wall. The man hated letting them go away like this. He hated losing to Ironwood.
Whitley hated it too, but his irritation was born of a different emotion… one that would always confuse him whenever he managed to identify it. An emotion that didn't belong in his heart.
Jealousy.
_/_/_/_/_/
… …
"Does it hurt?"
A full day had passed now, and Whitley was pleased to find his voice working again. It was still a bit sore, but as long as he could make his wishes known, then that was fine.
The Disgraced Faunus looked up from her seat, clearly not expecting him to speak yet, but stayed quiet herself.
Whitley hadn't seen anyone else for the entirety of the first day. No one but the Disgraced. No one bothered to check in on him, but that was understandable – he was no Huntsman, nor was he any sort of Specialist, so there was no chance he could escape on his own.
The woman might as well have been a granite statue for all she reacted to him. This cell had no bathroom facilities, so she gave him a bucket. She also didn't turn away when he was forced to use it, but he dismissed this as irrelevant – one normally didn't shoo the dog from the washroom out of embarrassment at being seen naked.
Still, even if it was a Faunus, he needed to talk to someone. He needed some answers.
"I asked you a question," he said in a mild tone, hoping the woman didn't continue to ignore him.
The Faunus woman sighed through her nose and spoke with her deep voice, "Save your breath. I have nothing to say to you, boy."
"Do not call me 'boy' …I am the son of Jacques Schnee, heir to the Schnee Dust Company – you will call me Whitley or Sir."
She leaned forward, her voice taking on an icy tone. "I'll warn you only one time, BOY… do not throw that name around lightly in this place. Adam will break you, but the others… they will do much, much worse. Every Faunus considers the Schnees their enemy, and they will make you beg for death."
Whitley sighed, leaning back against the side wall. That was about what he expected.
"And yes, it does hurt. If you can imagine being punched in the face by a man twice your size, a man wearing studded knuckles, over and over until your skull must surely cave in from the blows… you'll be close."
"That must be agony…"
The woman scoffed. "Agony?! What I described was what I feel whenever I lie down and go to sleep! Pain like that is a relief compared to what this twice-damned… thing is doing to me…" she lightly rubbed her hand as she mentioned it.
Now that sounded bad. This woman must have nerves of steel to bear such unending pain for this long. And that didn't sound like the device he helped design – they must have tweaked it, somehow increasing the pain factor even higher. Monsters, all of them.
Another hour passed in silence as Whitley struggled to think of a way out of this hell hole… but nothing came. There had been no noise from outside, no indication that there was any sort of force coming in from Atlas. There was no sign of rescue.
Eventually the Disgraced woman brought him his evening meal and made to leave, but Whitley stopped her and asked, "Why do you keep helping me? My family's device is hurting you, and you have no reason to-"
"Because I have no choice!" she hissed suddenly, baring her teeth as she removed her Grimm-like mask.
Whitley recoiled, unprepared for such vitriol.
"I should be dead by that man's blade," she continued. "Instead I am here, at the bottom of the food chain, serving those I would rather kill with my own hands. And all because that man took my people away from me. I am Disgraced, and he is the victor."
She turned to look him square in the eye, and Whitley swallowed hard. Those amber eyes were full of fire.
"But I'm helping you… because he wants to break you. I won't let him, not right away. It is a small act of defiance, but… it is all I can do."
"I will not be some pawn in your schemes, Faunus!" Whitley suddenly shouted, somewhat proud of himself for finally standing up to his captors. "When I am free, my Father will-"
For some reason, this remark got the woman laughing. "You… ha… you think your Daddy will save you? You think getting out of here will make you… 'free' …?"
Whitley felt his face grow hot as the woman continued laughing at him. He was growing annoyed that he'd somehow missed the joke.
"You've been a pawn of that man since the day you were born," she said suddenly, taking a step towards the bars. "You've never been free, not for one single day of your entire life."
"Nonsense!" he shot back. "My Father-"
"-Is a domineering tyrant bent on controlling the will of every soul on the planet," she finished for him, smiling to herself at how clever she sounded. "And you know it."
How dare she speak of Father in such a manner?! Why he had half a mind to-
"You couldn't even tell me your own name first! You had to tell me that you were his son before you got to that part!" Sienna Khan, garbed in the uniform of a White Fang grunt, gave a hearty chuckle at the plight of the youngest child of Jacques Schnee. "He has you completely under his thumb."
For some reason, Whitley couldn't counter that point. Nothing came to mind.
"Assuming you live long enough, you'll see what I mean," she said as she replaced her mask and made for the door. "In time, you will come to understand that you have more freedom inside this prison cell than you ever did back home… under the iron fist of the man you call Father."
With that, the Disgraced woman left him alone again.
This time, however, his composure was in shambles.
Her words had stirred something inside him, thoughts and emotions that he never even knew were there now coming to light. Memories of forgotten days, when he looked upon his sisters… and their lives outside of the Schnee family… with a sense of envy.
Whitley Schnee wanted to go home. He wanted to get away from these Faunus before they made good on their threats of pain and torture.
But he was also beginning to understand the truth of those words… home would mean returning to the control of Father. To living under his will. In the past, that was all he wanted – Whitley was the 'good son,' the one member of the household that actually did what Father wanted, rather than defy him with every breath like Mother and his sisters did.
Whitley was beginning to understand that 'freedom'… and 'home'… were not one and the same.
And for the first time in his life… he wasn't sure which one he wanted.
… …
… …
… …
Author's Note: So I decided to challenge myself by both featuring a character I can't stand (Whitley) AND shipping him with someone he would have absolutely nothing to do with in a normal setting. The result is what you see here.
Like with Under Her Skin, my intention was to craft a short story (3-4 chapters max) that takes a really cracked Crack Ship and just… make it work. And I think you'd be hard-pressed to get much more cracked than these two. Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think!
(BTW, for those wondering, I haven't forgotten about my other projects – I just… well… can't stay focused on them for more than 5 minutes a day right now. I'm hoping that putting out another short fic like this will get me back in the mood, but we'll see what happens.)
OwO