Summary: Beacon academy and the White Fang work together to restore Faunus neighborhoods that have been the targets of terrorist attacks. While defending part of the affected area, team RWBY minus Blake meet with Adam Taurus. He shows Weiss his brand and tells her the story of how he got it.

XXX

The body disintegrated into black particles. The wind carried them away gently, as if it wanted to erase the violence that had taken place mere moments before. They swirled in the air before vanishing, returning to the same inexplicable void all Grimm went to when they died.

The woman with the dog tail stood up on shaking legs. The toddler in her arms stared wide-eyed at the spot where the Grimm had been. He had not cried: of course, he couldn't possibly comprehend the danger he'd put himself into by running off.

His mother kissed him fiercely, held him closer to her chest, and cast a careful look at my direction. "Thank you", she said evenly. "We are grateful for your service."

Her formality stung. I'd just saved her life and that of her child. But I had used glyphs to do it, so there was wariness mixed with her gratitude. It was so frustrating. So unfair.

But years of training in proper etiquette kicked in to help me control my feelings. "You're very welcome."

It was a perfectly acceptable response, although my tone did come off a bit stiff. Father would have deducted points for that. He always said I was too expressive: my face, my voice, the multitude of little involuntary mannerisms that all the etiquette lessons in the world could not quite subdue.

Ruby and Yang came closer and stood at my side. "We are looking for one Adam Taurus", Ruby told the woman.

She pointed behind Ruby, towards a large tent; people were moving in and out. "Should be there."

"Thank you", I said. "Would you like us to escort you back to your, ah…" I looked around me. "Tent?" I ventured.

The woman's eyes darted on the Schnee family symbol engraved at the upper left part of my dress, before making contact with mine again. She gave a brief shake of the head and walked away. Her toddler, looking back at me from over her shoulder, stretched his arms towards me and babbled happily in my direction.

Ruby put a hand on my shoulder. "You did good, Weiss", she said quietly.

"You did well", I corrected on impulse. She simply smiled, cocked an eyebrow at me, and waited. I sighed. "I mean, thanks."

When I first met Ruby, all I saw was an annoying child. And when Ozpin made her leader, I'd been flabbergasted. Ruby could fight, and make plans on the fly, but I didn't think she had the discipline or the maturity required for the position.

But there was a spark in her: a simple, pure, innate desire to do good. Her view of the world was very idealistic; but she had this calm, unwavering faith in it that somehow made others believe in it, too. Her crazy plans were actually working, and her crazy speeches were weirdly motivational.

And after I'd lashed out at her in a way that shamed me to recollect, she had looked past my manner and taken the essence of my criticism seriously. That had been… surprisingly mature of her.

Perhaps her appointment as team leader had not been a complete mistake after all.

Of course, that didn't mean I had to blindly praise everything she did. Quite the opposite, in fact. She was showing potential, but she still had ways to go to fully prove herself. Besides, witholding praise motivates people to try harder. Winter was doing it to me all the time, and I had turned out just splendidly.

"You're welcome", Yang said brightly, piping up on her sister's behalf. "You hogged all the action, though. Next time, leave some for me!"

Oh, for goodness' sake. "They're Grimm, Yang, not a pile of cookies. Really, you ought to be taking our mission more seriously. This is hardly proper demeanor for an aspiring Huntress."

"Oh, relax, Weiss queen. The people here are perfectly safe. The only Grimm we've seen are small pickings."

"We're first-years, Yang. We got assigned to a low-risk area. Besides, we should be thankful that the kingdom's defenses prevent swarms of Grimm from getting through. It's a good thing that the attacks are few and far between. The most important thing is to protect these people effectively." I sighed. "Even if it involves working with the White Fang."

We started moving toward the site the woman had pointed to, walking our way through rubble and makeshift tents. People in uniforms were moving about, carrying medical supplies and food. Some of them seemed to be human, though it was often hard to tell.

Mute faces. Hopeless expressions. Simple clothes, because the more ornate ones had been burned. I'd never been to the area before, but I knew it had been a thriving commercial hotspot, a proud exception to the rule of lower socioeconomic status for Faunus-majority neighborhoods. Now it was reduced to ashes, ruin, and voiceless pain.

"You could've asked for an exemption, you know", Yang pointed out in a more subdued tone as we reached the large tent. "Ozpin would probably have granted it."

Ask to be excused from duty? Seriously? She was lucky Winter wasn't there to listen to her. "I am a Huntress. I'm not going to run away from an assignment just because it involves some unpleasant aspects."

"Huntress in training", Yang idly corrected. "Blake asked for an exemption. It's not some big shameful thing."

"Oh! Don't bring up Blake as an example of what to do. I'm sure I don't know why she does anything. She shouldn't be getting away with half the things she does, if you ask me. Perhaps if she deigned to talk to us more often, I would understand what's going on in that head of hers."

Yang frowned. "That's not completely fair. She's started to open up. She told us she's a Faunus, didn't she? And that she has personal history with the White Fang. Complicated history. That guy we're supposed to work with? She said he used to be her mentor, or something."

"And how is that a good enough excuse? I have personal stakes and I'm here."

"By your own choice –"

"Hey", Ruby said gently. "Can we stay focused? We have a job to do here."

I sighed. "You're right. We shouldn't get sidetracked. And you're right, too, Yang. It is my choice to be here. I'm not stupid, you know. I'm perfectly well aware of the stigma surrounding my family name, concerning our perceived mistreatment of Faunus. By being here, by showing that I am willing to protect everyone, I can reduce that stigma."

"Perceived mistreatment, huh?" said an unfamiliar masculine voice. "That's rich."

I looked up to see a tall, lean man in a black outfit. Two small bull horns were buried on each side of his auburn hair. There was a cloth wrapped around the upper part of his face, concealing it.

I could not see his eyes, but I could feel his attention on me, like an arrow of controlled fury. His mouth turned into a hard line, as if shutting down the words he wanted to say. His hands curled into fists.

But the next moment, they relaxed again, and he addressed us as a group in a tone of studied indifference.

"So Blake ditched you, huh? Figures. That's just how she is, my Blake. Beautiful girl. Decent fighter. Not the best history of honoring her commitments."

A red glint flashed through Yang's eyes. "And who might you be?"

I had a guess. "Adam, right?" I kept my voice carefully neutral. Someone had to remain professional around here. "Blake's former, ah, mentor?" Yes, that was probably the best term to use. Blake had used several others, not all of them suitable for polite conversation. She'd been scanty on the details, though. I'd gotten the sense it was not a topic she liked to dwell on.

He seemed amused. "Mentor. That's one way of putting it, sure."

Wha –

Oh, hell no.

Ruby and Yang exchanged a brief startled look. Their faces showed that they had reached the same conclusion I had.

"Right", Yang said after a pause. "Blake did mention you. Briefly. She didn't tell us about the bandana, though. Are you wearing that because you think it makes you look cool?"

"Yang!" Ruby exclaimed. "Come on, be nice. Don't worry, mister Blake's ex… mentor! We're here to help."

"Cute", he replied contemptuously. "Here." He handed us three small devices. "The area you have been assigned to consists of several sections. There are volunteers monitoring each one. These devices are connected to their scrolls. In case of an attack, they will send a signal to indicate their location. Your device will sound an alarm and the screen will display the coordinates you have to go to."

"Got it!" Ruby said cheerfully.

He waved his hand dismissively, as if he were doing us a huge favor having this conversation. "Yeah, yeah. In the meantime, go find someplace to stand where you won't be in the way. There are people working here."

"And what are we doing?" I asked, irked. "We've already had to protect someone on our way. I don't think you quite understand the importance of our presence here. Perhaps you should be a little more grateful for the work we do."

His smile was dripping contempt. "Grateful", he scoffed. "As if it wasn't your kind that did this in the first place." I was about to point out all the things wrong with his statement, but he spoke faster. "You especially. You have no room to talk."

"Me?" I asked in genuine puzzlement.

"Your family has caused more destruction and misery than this."

Ah. Of course. There it was. I should really have been used to it by now: apparently, every Faunus in Remnant and their aunt had some kind of beef with my family. It was always such fun, getting put to trial for things I had no personal control over. First Blake calling out the SDC's shady practices. Then there was that Velvet girl from team CFVY…

I'd lost control that time. I was so sick of people constantly flinging accusations…

Ruby had stayed at the stadium that day, and had later transferred the rest of the conversation to me. The girl's mother had been really hurt. It was… regrettable. When I took over, I'd make sure that things changed.

"So, you're Blake's new teammates", Adam continued. "Her new family, one could say. Funny how she ended up on a team with a Schnee. What do you girls talk about? Your nails? Cute boys? The exploitation of one's people by the other's family?"

"I am here to do my job", I replied with studied politeness. "I would advise against starting a debate you are not going to win. The SDC may not be perfect, but the White Fang is hardly in a position to be preaching ethics. You've been targeting my family for years. You destroy and terrorize, make people fear for their safety and cost them their livelihoods… and then you play the victim, trying to justify your violence with some misguided talk of justice."

"You? Who is 'you', exactly? I'm a free citizen, same as you. Do you have any proof that I'm doing any of the things you just described? But regardless of that, and purely for the sake of discussion… There is a reason for the actions you talk about. Justice isn't freely given to all of us. My kind has always had to fight for every scrap of it."

"The law protects everyone equally", I pointed out. "Discrimination on the basis of being a Faunus is no longer legal."

"Oh, it's no longer legal", he said mockingly. "Then it definitely never happens. I can sleep peacefully now. You're wrong, anyway. Legislation is a complex thing, and slow to change. And people like you don't have the incentive to change a status quo that benefits you. It takes a conscience to do that."

"I will not be lectured on morality by a terrorist! The law is not perfect, but you're just using past wrongs to justify current ones."

"Terrorist, huh? Funny how casually you throw that word around. Yet here I am, trying to help victims of actual terrorism rebuild their homes. And it's especially funny how you portray your family as a victim, with no acknowledgement of how they constantly provoke this violence you hate so much."

"You have a sob story. Is that it? The big, bad human world was mean to you?" Anger rose, burning all thoughts of professionalism and temporary truces to a crisp. "Let's hear it, then. You're spouting so much self-righteous bitterness against my family, yet you haven't given one example of how we supposedly mistreated you. So come on, back it up. Let's hear your sob story, I really want to see what you've got. "

In response, Adam brought his hand to the piece of cloth covering the upper part of his head. Slowly, but without hesitation, he removed it.

Time stood still.

When I was younger, Klein used to tell me stories about my grandfather: Nicholas Schnee, the legendary founder of the Schnee Dust Company. Klein was the only one willing to really talk about him. My mother never liked to remember her happier past. My sister, with all her fierce love for me, had no tolerance for what she called wallowing. Tough on me as she was on herself, she pressed me to push forward, think towards the future, never indulging in feelings that could not change my current situation.

But Klein understood. He was always there, attentive and considerate, providing his quiet but consistent support whenever my family's internal or external wars made me sad or scared or doubtful. I'd always sensed he did not like my father, but he never talked about him with open disrespect. Instead, he talked to me about the old days, when Nicholas Schnee had inspired and united his workers, humans and Faunus alike, to build something great. Something that would improve the lives of those who built it and bring them comfort and security, ruled with fairness and compassion by the exceptional man who had founded it.

Your grandfather was a strong man, Klein used to say. And you have his spirit, my little snowflake. I see so much of him in you: his determination and work ethic, his stubbornness and defiance against difficult odds… his kindness and sense of justice. One day, the Schnee Dust Company will be yours, and I have every faith in your ability to lead it.

The SDC. These three letters had guided my resolve through the years. I would rid them of my father's stain. I would restore them to what they used to be, give them back the meaning that had been stolen from them. I would make them a symbol of unitedness and peace, fairness and hope.

But now they were staring at me angry and red, engraved by fire into a person's flesh.

"Not looking away. I respect that", Adam said. He gestured at the scar around his eye with chilling nonchalance. "So. You wanted to hear my sob story, as you so kindly put it?"

I didn't. I didn't. I wanted to close my eyes and erase the image from my memory. I wanted to reverse time and walk away from the confrontation before it could begin.

But I knew I had to listen to him. His right to be heard was branded on his face, confronting me with the power of untold pain. This wasn't something I could turn away from, pretending that it didn't exist.

"The princess does not object? Alright then." He smiled a bitter smile. "I guess there isn't really much to tell. It happened in one of your factories. Branding iron. I was thirteen."

I could only stare in horrified confusion. "How is that possible?"

"Support through opportunity: a SDC initiative for the empowerment of Faunus youth." His good eye focused on me, assessing me. "You're the heiress to the company. Do these words ring a bell?"

They did; but the picture they painted in my head was not compatible with Adam's scarred face. "It's a program designed to help teenagers from underprivileged Faunus families. It offers them the chance to work at specific SDC facilities under a special training agreement. The SDC provides food and housing. The workers also get a stipend and valuable skills via hands-on experience. It's like an extended apprenticeship."

But I'd never given any thought to how young the trainees could be. I'd always assumed they started at sixteen or something.

"That's the pretty package, yes", Adam said. "You see, when slavery was outlawed, people like your father had to get creative. You humans are always motivated by greed, and, well… production costs go down the less you have to pay the people who produce. Words on paper don't change that.

One way to do it is indirectly, like when you've got exploitation in your supply chain. You need tin or cobalt? You get it for cheap from some hellhole in Mistral. How they mined it is none of your business. They've provided the resource, but you're not responsible for their practices.

But if you want to exploit your workers directly, with the name of your company proudly attached to the actions you take… then you've got to give that exploitation a different spin. Call it by a different name."

"But…" I still couldn't quite wrap my head around what he was saying. "The program is designed to be beneficial to all parties."

"Mm-hm. Funny thing is, I initially bought that crap. I knew the stipend was crumbs, but I couldn't afford to be picky. Food and housing meant I wouldn't be a burden to my family, and maybe I'd get a real, permanent position in the end. That was nothing to scoff at: every Faunus I knew had problems getting employed, regardless of skills. I was grateful for the opportunity, even. I was… what's that phrase you Atlas elites like so much? Ah, yes: one of the good ones. Hardworking. Reliable. Honest. Polite.

But I wasn't completely stupid. The reality of my situation soon became apparent. Harsh conditions. Dangerous tasks without proper training. There were supposed to be limits in our hours and the types of work we could do, but these limits were not enforced. Supervisors were all human. They were allowed to use 'reasonable physical force'" – he made air quotes with his fingers – "to keep underage trainees in line. In practice, this amounted to daily and severe beatings for small infractions. Our pay, such as it was, could be withheld as disciplinary measure. That was often done arbitrarily. It was effectively a labor camp, manned by children, and disguised as an act of benefaction. There were guards too, nominally to prevent things from getting violent. But things were already violent. What they were really doing was prevent us from fighting back."

"Thirteen years old", I muttered to myself.

"I don't know why you're so fixated on that. There were kids in the program younger than me. Twelve is the minimum age for hard or potentially hazardous labor – for Faunus specifically." He gave me an unimpressed look. "For a company heiress, you're pretty ignorant about basic stuff."

"That can't be right."

"It's a relic of the slavery era. One of the justifications used for our mistreatment was that we're more durable and stupider. Better suited to physical labor under proper supervision. They said we could take it, that we were even better off for it since it was in our nature. Still, some of your kind had epiphanies of conscience about the morality of using Faunus children for hard labor, so they eventually succeeded in putting a limit to how young the child slaves could be. The age cutoff of twelve was intended as mercy. And it was never changed. Because no one cared enough to prioritize changing it." He responded to my silence with a raised eyebrow. "I told you, just because your lot was eventually forced to abolish slavery doesn't mean everything was magically fixed."

I let the silence linger for a moment. "And the brand?"

"Ah, yes. The brand." His chuckle sounded completely discordant to the conversation. "It's funny: that was what started this whole discussion, and yet it was the one thing that the SDC did not intend. Bad PR, you see. They needn't have worried. They covered it up well enough.

I had this friend in the program. He was too good to be in it: too kind, too soft. We hung out when we could get a moment. Just talking and poking fun at each other. He was a few months younger than me, and I never let him forget it.

One day, he was assigned to operate some machinery he hadn't been fully trained for. I tried to intervene and got told to fuck off. He had to plead on my behalf to avoid me getting punished. I should never have let him convince me to back off. When I returned to him later, he was mangled and bleeding.

I lost it. Supervisor was so afraid of a thirteen year old yelling that he called security. The guard who responded had always had it out for me. He was also a little drunk, which wasn't allowed but sometimes happened. He told me giving my kind so many rights had been a mistake. It had made us forget the natural order of things. Then he told me he'd give me something to help me remember. He used his Semblance to heat up the iron as he smashed it on my face."

I looked up at him, slowly, uncomprehending. Surely, I'd misheard him. "Semblance?"

"Yes, he was a Huntsman. Not a very good one, I suppose, or he'd be doing something fancier. You're actually shocked", he added, amused. "You really bought into that romantic image of your profession that the academies try to sell? It's all bullshit. You're not heroes. You're mercenaries with too much power and not enough regulation.

Anyway. He later claimed I'd lunged at him and he defended himself with the first object he could grab. Nobody came to my defense. From the supervisors, I expected it. They approved of what had happened to me. I don't know if my coworkers were coerced, intimidated, or bribed. Management made my parents sign some kind of waiver. Then they looked at my face, told me I could not claim damages for a fight I had instigated, and fired me.

My parents told me to drop it. They were weak. Afraid. But they weren't wrong. I still had enough stupidity in me to try and fight it in court. I got one of these pathetic publicly funded hacks and send him up against the legal team of the SDC. Three guesses on how that went. Case didn't even make it to trial. Thrown away due to lack of adequate evidence. Lack of evidence."

He laughed harshly, gesturing at his face with self-explanatory bitterness. "Lack of fucking evidence! But I learned my lesson. You can't negotiate from a position of weakness. So first, you have to take power back if you want people to take you seriously.

This is your justice, girl. This is your law. Your justice is a toothless joke. Your law is play dough in the hands of the rich and powerful. They do not stand for me, for people like me. So forgive me, Miss Schnee, if I feel the need to take matters into my own hands."

He spat out my name with such raw hartred that I could not stop myself from flinching. Ruby and Yang, flanking me on both sides, came closer in silent reassurance. Adam smiled contemptuously at them and gave me a last cold look before walking away to indicate that the conversation was over.

XXX

A/N: This is not going to be a story about how Adam was actually a misunderstood guy who did nothing wrong, nor is it going in a redemption-y direction. I'm simply treating his backstory with some respect and making it something that explains his current mindset.

A common headcanon is that the SDC straight up has slaves that they brand. The problem with that is that slave branding only makes sense if slavery is legal. It used to have a practical purpose: notifying the authorities and the public that the branded person is a runaway who should be returned to their owner. If slavery is illegal (as it is in Remnant as per the WoR episode on the Great War) then branding your slaves would serve no practical purpose and would, on the contrary, be self-incriminatory. So I really think it makes more sense for the scar to be the result of an isolated incident, with the SDC still bearing responsibility because they created the conditions that allowed it to happen and then covered it up.

Next chapter will be CFVY in a similar scenario, with Sienna instead of Adam. Then we're going back to school stuff.

Let me know your thoughts!