Blake recalled a long since buried memory, a particularly nerve-wracking one. She was so much smaller back then, barely reaching her father's knee as she clung to his leg. To her, everything was a mountain, both physically and emotionally. That day, they were in the waiting room of a hospital, the checker pattern halls and panicked staff all drowned out by the burning white hues of the light fixtures. That day, her father was the only person available to cling to, to allow herself to be grounded by, because the only other person she could trust to hold her steady was in the operating room.
She was too young to comprehend what her mother was going through, all she knew was that Kali collapsed in front of her, that something was wrong, that her mother might not leave that room. That cold sting, a putrid emotional concoction of adrenaline and fear, stopped her from sleeping, stopped her from moving. It was like a predator rooting her in place so she couldn't escape, but keeping her awake to ensure she was aware of every dreadful moment that brought her closer to the moment the doctor would emerge from light and reveal whether or not her world was shattered.
That sensation was so fresh now, like ice tipped daggers puncturing her skin if she even dared let a thought stray from the approaching revelation. It was the anticipation of pain, the prelude to terrible news, the panic in the face of a poor result; the waiting killed you more than the impact itself.
'Taurus has arrived at the front desk. He will reach your office shortly.' The text filling up her scroll's screen had easily managed to burn itself into her eyes, like when looking away from the sun she could still see the flickering static image projected onto whatever surface she looked at, even with the scroll now on the floor and out of view. 'Security teams on standby if he gets out of hand.'.
That predator was still there, still trapping her to her chair, still binding her legs and locking her eyes to the door as the moment of truth approached. There was no running from this, no denial to throw herself into; the door would open and she would open old wounds on her soul that would still feel as fresh as the day he left them there, look upon the man who's death she had caused only a few months ago in her mind, face the nightmare she thought she'd overcame. She would reunite with Adam Taurus, she would do so alone, she would allow him the benefit of her ignorance and she would not let him deter or control her this time.
There were so many ways this played out in her mind, so many ways she could see him get under her skin or take her by surprise. She tried not to allow her focus to be swept away by such paranoid thoughts that could very well turn out to be baseless in this twisted reality, but her mind just couldn't help but ponder and scheme. What would he do? What could he do? The only thing she could think of was to stay focused, to remain calm. If she were to show any sign of weakness, of fear, then he would take full advantage of it.
She could see him kicking down the door, dispensing with all subtleties or pleasantries with that horrid blade gleaming as he holds it up to the light. A demented snarl stretching his veiny features to their limits, the beast, the blood thirsty beast taking full control before he charges in to finish off whatever bad blood Wither had probably left with him.
That's ridiculous, she told herself with a rough head shake. She knew she was getting ahead of herself there. Jacques was sending Adam to her, meaning Adam, at minimum, was some measure of ally, begrudgingly or otherwise. He wouldn't come storming in calling for her blood. But I was still warned that Security would be on standby 'just in case', she reminded herself, retrieving her scroll and reading over the ominous message for a fifth time. That implies that Adam had the potential to become dangerous.
If she really thought about it, the entrance he'd make would be lower key, slower. He wouldn't disarm her physically but work to dig under her defences. Predatory eyes burning into her until her skin itched, moving around the room to strengthen his presence, a demeaning comment or two. Yes, yes, she could see, in a situation where attack wasn't an option, Adam chipping at her emotional defences. Allude to some vague, but none the less devastating past wrongdoing with that bitter-as-black-coffee voice she once found so enchanting.
Or he could already have snuck into this very room and be watching her right now, pull the same disappearing act he used in the simulation. Or he could wrap her around his finger again. Or he could smile long enough to stab her in the back. Or he could pull her into a screaming match.
Or he could walk in and greet her like any other normal, everyday talk and play catch up. He could just turn out to be some guy. Looking down at her hands, she realized she was gripping the armchair so tightly that her knuckles had gone a horrible pale shade. He could just be some guy. My bogeyman could turn out to be nothing more than just a nightmare. Somehow, that thought scared Blake most of all. She'd had a hard time seeing the dark side of Adam once – well, it would be better to say she had a hard time seeing the toxic nature of his dark side rather than the allure – but the moment it was exposed to the light she couldn't see anything other than that beast forged in spite and fear. It was, in a way, easier to handle, to simply be able to remember him as just a bastard. She didn't have to consider anything, didn't have look back, didn't have to regret how it ended. She could just throw away the memories and be satisfied that he was just a bad man who was no longer there.
If he was just a simple man, a bit of an ass at times, a bit distasteful, just some guy with a few less than stellar moments that Wither couldn't stand; it would open her up to too many complicated feelings she wasn't sure she could handle. In a twisted thought she was ashamed for considering, it was almost like she wanted a monster to walk through that door and give her hell. Wanted something to fight rather than someone to talk to.
The door panel's unlock chime was like ice cold water hitting her face head on, snapping her out of her thoughts.
No matter what, she told herself as the door opened, I'm not running away this time.
Blake was as ready for this as she ever could be.
Blake would admit that Adam was an attractive man, and not just in his strong physique or rough features. His pure determination and stubbornness likened him to a force of nature, forming the foundation for both his flaws and his charm. His passion swept through the room and pulled you in, overpowering any and all resistance, forcing you to cling to his every word for your only hope of support.
He didn't wear his emotions on his sleeve so much as let them pour out of every word, let them infect you with his complete honesty. His complete lack of subtlety was his most subtle method of control. Even when they first met, long before he was anything more than Sienna's mysterious protégé that everyone gave grief too, back when he restrained himself, he still spoke full of vigour and pain. He was exposed to her, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it – to her or to himself – and was desperate to cover it up, making him vulnerable in a way she wasn't used to at the time. He was so dedicated to the mission, that passion drew Blake's young thirst for progress to him, kept her following him even after his first kill left it's permanent mark. Even after the boy she befriended, the boy she partnered with, had long since faded from his persona.
He may have lost his direction and his followers, but he was a leader through and through.
At least, he was in her mind.
This man that stood before her now almost didn't look real. He retained his height, he was taller than her physically, and yet he felt smaller, like an optical illusion that changes shape the more you look at it. The SDC brand was still burned into the right side of his face, somehow brighter, fresher than she remembered. "Can I just say that I missed you so, so much, Miss Schnee." His voice was almost robotic, only injecting enough dry, thinly veiled emotion into his tone to make everything he said sound like a question.
Even his smile, that unnatural, so wide you could just imagine how much it ached to maintain, full of pristine teeth with the texture of plastic smile was so shallow and artificial. Lines of stitches stretched over his visible skin, holding firm onto the corner of his lips, looking as if it hurt to even move his lips. They held his flesh together like a badly maintained stuffed animal, as if he could easily tear himself open and fall apart if he didn't move exactly right. The only reason she didn't mistake him for a puppet dangling from invisible strings was the fact that she could see his feet.
There was no passion, no charisma, no honesty, no badly disguised vulnerability, not a shred of the man she thought he was or the man she thought he had become.
"I was so worried when Mr. Schnee sent me away." Another twitch communicated what she assumed was a nervous tick. "I thought I had done something bad, really messed up this time. They… They didn't tell me why you were away, and I was so scared, Miss. So scared."
A minute passed in dead silence. Adam didn't take a step, he didn't shift his gaze, he didn't so much as display any discontent with Blake's meek silence. He didn't move. His expression remained the same, gazing at her like one would gaze at their idol, simply content to wait, wait, wait. What is he waiting for? Blake thought. She was stunned into silence, but he had no such excuse, the least he could do was enter the room instead of loitering in the shade of the doorway, or ask why she wasn't talking, just anything more than standing around like a statue.
Another minute passed. Adam still didn't move.
Blake, at least, managed to muster up her voice and croak out a weak "Won't you come in?"
Instantly, the stiff faunus bounded through the doorway and was by her side before she could even blink. "Oh yes, thank you, Miss. It was awfully cold out there, awfully cold. I think the air conditioner was broken."
Blake shrunk into her seat, blinking in confusion. Was he really just waiting there until she gave him the command, no, the permission to enter her room? This version of Adam was certainly more… Well, 'tame' for the lack of a better word.
"You can…" Her brain still stuck processing the man before her, she wasn't quite sure where her sentence was going, she was just letting the words drip out. Anything to avoid letting the choking silence remain. "Fireplace. The fake fireplace. You can stand by that if you need to warm up." Her arm, the forearm falling limp and forcing her shoulders to fling upwards like a rope, rose to vaguely gesture in the direction of said fireplace. It was a holographic one off to the side of the room, projecting a wall of blue flames just tall enough to dominate the room.
"You are so generous, Miss." Adam made a smooth pivot on his heel and marched towards his haven of heat with a song in his voice. A song with no rhythm and scratchy vocals, but she believed he was happy. Or she believed he was supposed to be. "If I'm allowed to say so; I was scared your vacation might have changed you, but you haven't changed a bit, Miss! You're just as wonderful as ever."
That should be a comforting compliment, but all it did was make her long for the nearest shower, feeling suddenly unclean and itchy.
She shook her head; I'm not running away from this. Without taking her eyes off the man, she reached for her desk, yanking a cup off the surface and downing it's contents in quick succession. She had entirely forgotten what was in the cup, the rough texture that invaded her throat taking her by surprise, but it sure as hell woke her up. It was time to get some answers.
Blake never considered herself a drinker, but she was beginning to think Wither must have been a borderline alcoholic with how naturally she was turning to the bottle just to cope with the past hour. She manged to keep a glass of whatever swirling in her hand, taking a tentative sip every minute or so whenever watching Adam got too uncomfortable. She didn't exactly care for the taste – had that bitter edge that made your throat feel scratchy on the way down – but it managed to keep her nausea at bay.
Adam was dreadfully delightful. Emphasis on the dread. That chipper smile that looked so alien on his face never took so much as a dent, enduring an entire hour without a flicker of strain. When he stood up too fast and wacked his head on the underside of the fake fireplace's frame, he let out a deep, guttural belly laugh, pain itself powerless to deter his unnatural mood. It didn't make him hesitate, it didn't make him stumble, it simply didn't register.
As horrible as it sounded to say about a Faunus, it made him come off more like a pet, a domesticated animal. A bundle of senseless energy blindly following his instincts without the social awareness of a human or the trained instincts of a wild animal, all he cared about was the current short-term desire in his immediate view, nothing else existed as anything more than an odd inconvenience he was too innocent to understand.
The sickening comparison only became more apt when Blake finally found her voice, calling Adam over to the couch, still eyeing him like one would watch a zoo animal that only seemed to have a thin glass plane protecting them from it. "It looks like you've made yourself comfortable." As she started out with the first neutral, generic conversation starter that came to mind, Blake immediately took note of Adam's positioning. He came to a sudden halt at a certain distance from her, just enough to be out of 'attacking range', making no move towards the long couch that even both team RWBY and team JNPR would struggle to fill up. Instead, he dropped to the floor on hand and knee, like a dog sitting at it's owner's feet waiting for a pet or a treat.
"Your office was always the cosiest, Miss. I never had trouble getting settled in." It was such an adoring face he made, beaming up at her.
More nausea. More shots.
"…Why are you sitting on the floor?" Blake sighed internally, there was no way around it, she had to ask directly.
If it were in any other context, looking at any other person, that expression of innocent curiosity that stretched his face out with a warm, befuddled glow would have been adorable. "W-Well, Miss, I'm not usually allowed on the couch. Not since last time, you know." But no, all she could do here was grind her teeth into each other and hold back the bile.
Logic would dictate that in order to maintain her cover – Adam could be an extra eye for her father for all she knew – Blake should do he best to act as Wither Schnee is expected to, playing the role as best she could as to avoid suspicion.
Quite frankly, in that moment, Blake told herself 'To hell with logic'.
"Well, you are allowed now. Sit anywhere you like, Adam." She gestured to the rest of the couch, an inviting and comforting smile winning out over the uncomfortable tension for just a moment. It didn't matter to her if endangered her mission, it didn't matter if the man in front of her wore the face that still plagued her night terrors; nothing in this world or the next would allow her to justify treating whatever this was as okay. "I've had a lot of time to think on things since I've been away. And, if it's okay with you, I'd be more comfortable with you calling me Blake."
In that moment, the seemingly invincible smile broke. The pet, the servant, the whatever, pulled back and the man peaked his head out. At first, it seemed like he'd totally shut down, lips hanging open, eyes drooping and body suddenly swaying in a loose stupor. "Oh, that's ever… Ever so kind of you. Miss Blake." As he spoke, spluttering like a jammed machine, he rose to his feet and took a few tentative steps towards the ouch. It was painful sight, watching him slide into his new seat at an agonizingly slow rate. He didn't even sit the pull way, perching himself on the edge of the seat.
That caution, she could see it in his eye, he was waiting for Blake to reveal this was all a joke and yell at him to get back on the floor. "Be careful, Adam, sit any closer to the edge and you're gonna fall off." But it never came, instead Blake locked him down with a firm gaze. "I don't want you getting yourself hurt, okay?"
Even Blake was internally reeling at her own words, surprising herself with how genuine she sounded, how caring and protective she suddenly felt. No hesitation, no time to bottle up any flashbacks, she was just already putting herself front and centre. A yearning for something – a mystery she was petrified to even speculate the answer to – egging her forward. Was she really so easily pulled back under his sway? Or was this just an instinctual defence, softening herself as she prematurely anticipated a more despicable reveal about Wither? She had prepared so much, mentally, for this meeting. None of the fear she anticipated came ahead, and yet that was some how so much worse to her. Adam had managed to completely knock her out of sorts simply through not doing anything.
It disgusted her, frustrated her, and she had no convenient target to blame for it.
"O-Of course." He nodded vigorously, continuing to jitter hard enough to shake the couch as he moved to a more 'normal' position. At least her simple gestures seemed to shake him as much as he shook her. "Do you require anything else from me?"
Blake swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'd just like to talk if that's okay with you." It was a tricky business trying to talk to someone in a position like Adam's. Not because of any physical or cultural issues or what not, but because you were inclined to talk to them like a normal person with normal expectations. It was something Blake's mother once explained to her, that people, in this case the disenfranchised and downtrodden, who have become set in their ways, who have been raised into this mindset or exposed to no alternative for too long, they tend to have accepted how the world treats them as simply a way of life. It's all they've know so they can rarely see the contradictions staring them in the face. One could know with absolute certainty that it's wrong to mistreat others, and yet accept they're allowed to be mistreated without missing a beat because that's simply all they've known.
Adam, this Adam, by all accounts seemed to be rather set in the mentality of 'servant'. Blake knew that, while he was accepting of her attempts to soften this twisted dynamic between them now, if she pushed too hard, too fast, she'd only end up reinforcing it or getting angry at him for not seeing what's so obvious to her normal view. "What was it like before my vacation? I've found myself a little scatter-brained recently."
"Oh, you're too hard on yourself, Miss Blake!" He proclaimed, the rush to defend her overpowering his awkward shaking. "You're just tired, being the hard worker you are. Klein says you didn't even wait a day after coming back to throw yourself into your work." His energy was easily interrupted by Blake's small giggle, throwing the man back into disarray. "Uh, uh… Before you left, that was just after… Uh, well, when your brother was arrested."
"Ah, yes." Blake felt her heart pounding faster as the question of how to react slapped her upside the head. She knew her words had to be careful here, not only to keep herself consistent with Wither's 'character', but also not to tip Adam off that she was ignorant of information Wither would obviously know. "A pity what happened to Whitley."
Adam visibly paled, eyes darting back and forth around the room. "I-I thought you weren't supposed to speak his name anymore."
So, Wither's brother was taken away in an incident that severed any goodwill or ties with the family. She didn't have to think hard to understand who most likely gave that order. "Then we should keep this between you and me, yes?" Her lips curled up to take a cheekier shape, one she associated with conmen or charismatic criminals like Torchwick. "I should be free to speak within my own office. Father can't hear us in here."
"O-Of course, Miss." He gulped. "Naturally, I wasn't privy to anything important, just that your brother was found… Well, unstable and had to be removed for everyone else's safety."
Blake put on her best impression of an unfeeling snob faking humility, puffing out her lips with a lazy mimicry of sadness couple with completely dry eyes that still shook as if on the verge of tears. "I still have a hard time accepting it. It was just… A terrible day." There wasn't one part of her that was convinced Whitley was at all mentally ill. He found out something, went against the company, and was taken out of the picture before he could make anything of it. The important pieces of the puzzle were still missing, but an extra piece never hurt.
"He was a kind man…" Adam trailed off, eyes drooping as he struggled to push back whatever emotions were coming to the surface. "If I may say so, I hope he's in a better place now."
Briefly, Blake considered trying to comfort Adam with a more physical gesture, but after a few shallow breaths, she decided it was best to keep her distance for now. "I'm sure he is." She drew her eyes together and cast her head to the side, finding it harder and harder to look at Adam directly. "I wish things had gone differently."
"There was nothing you could have done, Miss Blake." Adam shook his head "He brought it on himself."
He was wrong. Deep down, whatever remained of Wither Schnee knew he was wrong. But Blake couldn't say that, so she let a pained sigh rattle her lungs and push out the bubbling shame. "You're right, Adam. Thank you."
"Really, if it's anyone's fault, it's mine." A low, compressed growl came from Adam's throat, choking back on a gasp. He was back to trembling like a leaf. "I was with him before it all happened, if you remember. I was too stupid to see a thing wrong with him, just helped him find files on recent Schnee property purchases." His shoulders tightened, his static smile now ripped apart to show gritting teeth. "If I were only a better servant, maybe-"
"I'll hear none of that." Blake cut him off with a passionate, even if quiet, cry. It was enough emotion to throw Adam off kilter, his eyes wise and his body frozen in shock. "You… You just said it yourself." It felt vile to say it, but it felt even more vile to let Adam fester like this. "He brought it on himself. You only did your job and I'd expect no more or less of you."
The two stared at each other for it to become incredibly uncomfortable. Blake's heart thundered to the beat of her panic, thought after thought questioning if she'd gone too far, sounded some alarms in Adam's head, if she'd broken a serious social taboo- Will he just start talking already?!
Eventually, Adam moved. He relaxed his arms on his lap, let his shoulder drop to his side and loosened his posture. A smile took over his face once again, but this one, it wasn't mandatory, it wasn't stiff, it was simply… A smile. "I missed you, Miss Blake."
In that moment, Blake felt a piece of herself long since made dormant awaken, sending a wave a warmth throughout her heart. There was something there, a sense of nostalgia, a memory from so long ago she'd forgotten it ever existed, of a boy she once cared for, maybe even loved, untainted by the man he'd become.
"I missed you too, Adam."
Blake wasn't sure which version of Adam she was addressing that sentiment to.