For the second time, he’s surprised in the openness Adam took to. It must be a full moon.
They’d both been there in the mines. They both bore the scars. But it wasn’t something they talked about, even in private. There was no real reason to, when there was work to be done. Hearing him make reference to what was under his mask was extraordinarily unusual.
It’s not something he’s wrong about, though. That was a scent you never got out of your head. It was the thread that wove every memory together, especially in the dreams. He still smelled it in his waking hours, when he indulged his rage and violence. It’s almost akin to a panic response, driving up adrenaline. Giving him the power to keep the fear and weakness away. But of course, without his chainsaw in hand…
With that in mind, he thinks he knows what Adam meant. Every fight, every struggle, had the potential to end the same way, with them subjugated and scarred. There’s nothing that will really get rid of the memories and physical reminders of what’s been done to them. But they could force it back. Make ‘it’ fear them, instead. Pushing their anger through the walls humans put between them and faunus, like a means of pushing the metal back from the skin of one’s face.
He pulls himself up from the cot he’d been asleep on.
He’s a little indignant to find Adam not even looking at him. If he was going to call attention to his core showing through, the least he could do is face him while he did it. It’s not worth voicing, though, and he stares at the back of Adam’s head. He was wearing his mask even this late. The Lieutenant didn’t at all blame him. Eventually, he does pipe up again.
“It’s early. Still dark.” What time is it? Four in the morning? Five? Too early to get started in the encampment. But too late to try getting back to sleep. “You had a nightmare too, then.”
While there were many other faunus who understood what it was like to have humans actively work against them, there were few others who so fully understood the pain of what it felt like to be treated so completely like property, like you didn't matter, to be BRANDED to remind you and anyone who might look at you that you were less than nothing. But that was one thing that they shared, one pain they could truly understand, in a way that no one else could.
Adam hears his lieutenant pull himself up from where he'd been sleeping, even as the White Fang leader continues to gaze off into the night sky.
But when the other speaks, Adam turns back to face him. After just a moment, he says that Adam had a nightmare, no question, just a simple statement. Adam's expression doesn't shift, but he reaches up to take his mask off, one of the only times he allows himself to be truly vulnerable. It speaks volumes of how much he trusts his lieutenant, that he's willing to remove the mask at all.
Most of his brothers and sisters in the White Fang had never seen Adam's face, never been able to meet his eyes in the same way. He needed to be in control at all times, and if someone saw his face, then that would be all they thought of. They wouldn't be able to see him in the same way without picturing the brand across his face.
Except for him. He had been through the same thing, and he trusted him now, with his vulnerability. While Adam hadn't necessarily sought him out so much as he had heard the other man's tossing as he passed by...., he would be lying if he said that he was not grateful for his presence now.
".......yes," is all he says, despite the fact that he likely didn't need to offer any confirmation at this point. "Come. Spar with me," he said, pulling his mask back on. If they were to spend more time in here, he might leave it off, but outside of the space between the two of them...., the mask came back on.
But what better way to work out these feelings than through getting them out?