Chapter One

1.

"Call me M," the woman sternly tells the child she found in the forest so long ago. "Aunt M, if you must be familiar."

M cannot reveal the warmth – joy – at being called mother. However unfortunate, it is for the best that the girl keep some distance between them. The little beanpole nods carefully, black hair falling into her eyes. M was one of the greatest infiltrators of the organization, before she was crippled and sent into the cover farm. The brown-haired woman can see the bright gleam leaving the girl's green eyes.

It's better this way, thinks the hardened woman. M never meant to take on a kid, but it took a whole season to coax the then four-years-old into the farmland. Another week of constant food before the girl began to talk. By now, M is invested.

Which isn't good. The organization is still influential around here, with new people passing through this house every other week. Likely that's why it took so long to get the girl's trust. Being invested in someone who isn't in-the-know is career suicide; actual death a possible follow-up. If anything shifts too greatly, M could be gone by the next day and someone else will care for the girl.

The girl is helpful, at least. She does chores beyond what she should be able to without complaint. M tries to push her away, but the soft word of mother hits once and repeats in the back of her mind until M decides she could use a protégé in her time left here.

Things have been slowing down. There will be at least another few seasons with the child.

"Girl!" M calls from the house. It takes a moment for the quiet footsteps to bad to the back door. "Keep your shoes on! We've got some Grimm to clear out today. None of your semblance, you hear! Go grab the knives and poles from the barn!"

2.

The new M – who wasn't really an M anymore – had heard about the child; the one adopted to help hold up the cover of normalcy. It was why she had been sent; too out-of-the-loop to be useful as more than a safe house for Z and with green eyes that match. A little hair dye, some makeup, and boots help her look close enough to the last owner that those in-town would never notice.

The girl, who would have been the only problem, just nods when M walks through the door. That floors the woman more than anything, but she's too good to show it, "What's your name?"

The girl looks up from her physics homework – much more advanced than a six-years-old should be reading – and blinks with a hint of confusion. "My name is Astrid."

It was never once in the file. Confidential information for good reason, since a name would have caused all sorts of problems if anyone had learned it. M settles across from her. "I am M. Do you need any help with that?"

The girl tilts her head in more confusion, scrutinizing the woman. M keeps smiling, even as she feels unprotected. It's ridiculous, a child should never feel intimidating. M swallows her breath of relief when the girl looks down at the textbook, twirling it and pointing out the issue so the woman can read.

Too advanced, M thinks and worries. This child is to have no connection with the organization outside of her caretaker. She finds even more information left by the last M, and it fears her greatly that this child will live and die never knowing what lies beyond the property. That maybe, this child has been trained to never leave.

M has seen it before, after all.

3.

"Thank you," Astrid whispers during dinner of the one-week mark of changing Ms.

"For what?"

"…Using my name."

M, behind a perfect smile that brightens the child's eyes, rages towards her predecessor. "Of course."

4.

For her first time interacting with other children, Astrid does well.

The village adults M is slowly becoming friends with all make sure to tell her how great it is she lets Astrid come to town. They see the girl running around with other little ones, having fun. M does not say how this sight warms her as well, and feeds the cold rage she has towards the previous M.

Amongst the civilians are the leftovers from other underground syndicates. The spiders do not try to hide, one even making sure his child plays with Astrid. Some former White Fang watch as closely as M when the girl meets a Faunus for the first time in her life. It all goes off without a hitch. M feels like she's losing years of her life just watching the possible political maelstrom hang in the balance of her child getting along with others.

It's all worth it, when Astrid has the village wrapped around her finger.

5.

The current woman does notice Astrid purposefully losing every couple of games. For someone like her, it is obvious, and she shares a smile with the girl.

Never does the girl take a shot at a goal post, always passing along the ball. Never does she run as fast as she can, letting the smaller kids or slow runners tag her. Not once does she slip into the quiet padding footsteps and liquid movement she uses on the farm.

These are children, and Astrid only looks like one. They play to win. She plays to have fun. In this new life, fun has been hard to come by and precious in moments.

The previous M would have punished her. This one lets her call her "mum" and takes her into town. The previous one had her sleep in the barn's attic. This one lets her sleep in the living room or cellar of the house. There is lots about the previous one Astrid is grateful for, but this M is the one she likes.

This one is not without flaws, but she lets Astrid prepare for the world beyond the farm. The girl takes every chance she can to read through Remnant's history in the library. She knows where she is, but not when. The when is important, because she only has knowledge of three seasons worth of RWBY and none of it takes place in Mistral. To add insult to injury, it's all faded knowledge. Astrid has no idea which Vytal Festival everything goes south in, beside the fact it takes place in Vale. What she can do is look for an up-and-coming Pyrrha, and hope for the best. There is no mention of the warrior, the CCT is still up, and Ozpin has been headmaster for a while. The likely conclusion is that this is before the possible plot.

How far before is uncertain.

"You hold the staff like this for the next stance," M changes hold. Astrid follows best she can. "Left hand a little higher. Yes. Like that."

Because they don't have the spare money for bullets, Astrid has been trained in all manner of weapons around the house. Mum takes to teaching her hand-to-hand styles as well but favours a boomerang. The girl with hair too dark and eyes too green is gifted with staves and batons, likely since it's the closest she can get to a baseball bat. Knives are always on her person, small and unnoticeable.

What is a challenge is fighting others, people or Grimm, because of Astrid's semblance. The same thing that makes the farm untouchable also means the girl is vulnerable.

"It's good you were kept a secret," M says as they stand together in the field, strawberries fallen from their fingers. In the sky, the swarm of Lancers has fallen away into dust particles. M sighs and pats the girl's head, breaking the stare down.

Astrid huffs and wipes the strawberry juice off her hair.

6.

Astrid realizes she has been too complacent the day M kicks open the door to the house. There's a knife in the girl's hands and she's off the couch, but frozen at the sight of her guardian covered in blood. The rain outside hits the window harder.

"Take him," M shoves the bundle into her arms. Bright green eyes and a mop of black hair appear as some blankets shake loose. Astrid is careful of the knife, unable to do more than gape as M goes to the cellar for weapons. "Keep pressure on his neck. Patch him up best you can!"

"On it," Astrid says loud enough, holding the maybe year-old boy closer. She's barely into her teens herself, and never thought she'd be making a child cry by wiping and flushing large wounds. The slits are too large and too clean. She can't tell whether there is tattoo or something else around them. "I know it hurts. I'm so sorry. You've got this. You've got this. It's almost over."

Heal, Astrid thinks frantically. In a world like this, where everyone but her seems to have some kind of healing factor, it shouldn't be bleeding so much. Heal. Healhealheal. Why isn't it healing? The blood slows, and the scarring begins to knit. Astrid breathes a sigh of relief, collapsing backwards into kitchen cupboard. The boy whimpers, and it's him reaching out that has her sitting up and pulling him to her lap.

"You'll be okay," Astrid whispers, believing it with all her heart. He is healing and safe here. M pounds her way upstairs. It beats like Astrid's heart, echoing in her ears. His breathing is still frantic; he clings to her shirt with small hands and rocks with her. "It'll be okay.

"He's healed!" Astrid calls over her shoulders before M can ask. The ladies lock gazes. "What now?"

"Keep him safe." M slides a clip into her handgun. "I'll be back in a few hours. Keep to the cellar." Astrid scrambles to her feet, boys easily carried and watching M leave. The woman stares at Astrid for a long time. "Lock the door behind me."

7.

The boy won't be pried from her. He starts crying whenever he can't hold her shirt. It makes wiping the blood off him difficult and messy, but they have time. Astrid is careful and soothing the whole time, easy strokes with the cloth and calm words. The adrenaline crash hits him, lulling him into dozing on her shoulder. There, the girl can get a good look are the mess left behind.

If those weren't gills before, someone had the sick sense to try and carve a mockery on the boy.

"You'll be okay," Astrid whispers, free hand gripping her best gun as her other keeps him steady against her chest. True solid belief and willpower sits heavy when she breathes out the next words. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

They will not be dying tonight.

8.

"We can't move," M is solemn. "It would be too suspicious. We wait for this to die down, then wait a bit longer, and then I'll adopt Oscar."

Astrid nods, because there is not much else she can do. Oscar plays with her old toy blocks, one hand always on her clothing. She still cannot go anywhere without him and does not know why. Even M seemed annoyed by it but keeping him with the girl keeps him from crying. There is very little the same between the kids, which is a problem. M was picked to be here because she could fake similarity to Astrid.

"Cousins," M decides.

"Same last name or different?" Astrid asks, snatching the block he throws in the air before it can brain him. Oscar cheers and claps.

M pauses for a long time. "We'll make it official. Oscar Pine."

Astrid nods and helps her new cousin make a castle with the blocks.

"We'll make him older," M falls back across the couch, watching her kids play on the floor. The woman is tired, but with the organization gone there is too much to do before she sleeps. She needs to call in favours before she's wiped from history. "Two years old. Two and a half."

"How old is he now?"

"Not a year."

Children in Remnant grow up fast, but neither can understand why Oscar is always so quiet.

9.

Astrid is sent into town alone for the first time in this life. She claims her mother is very sick as she buys milk and a few other staples. She knows which ones have their suspicions, and which of mother's friends are the ones who will look the other way. She has been lax, only learning physical skills to survive. Now more than ever she needs to start a network.

If not for her sake, then for Oscar's. By herself, Astrid would have been fine. The boy needs a fallback if they're ever gone, and she won't allow him to get put into the system if she can help it.

When Oscar is asleep during the day, she is sent back into town until her mother is 'better'. They double team the village, Astrid's network slowly growing through the use of the library computer while M snags gossip from the passerby's. They are always back before he wakes, though the one time they weren't didn't end in disaster. Astrid hadn't stepped a foot on the farm before the dust of the Grimm had vanished.

"When are we adopting him?" Astrid says with poise, but M can tell the tenseness of the words.

"Soon."

Finally bringing Oscar into the village is a breath of relief for all of them.

10.

The smaller one blearily opens her eyes when Oscar pokes her. She asks, "What is it?"

He does not understand but holds up his arms, frowning.

She yawns and sits up for only the moments it takes to lift him onto the couch with her. Oscar gets comfortable on her chest, snuggling as deep as he can into the awareness that warms away the aching. The splintering is less, wrapped in this soft shield.

Small one is more than tall one. Tall one is just-right, with none left over for him. Small one always has too much, and he always has too little. He doesn't want small one to grow up and fit just-right like tall one.

Oscar falls asleep to the lullaby of Astrid's soul.

Disclaimer: I have no claim to RWBY. All rights belong to their respective owners.

A/N: I started this when Oscar was out… 'shopping'. Likely going to be a bunch of drabbles in each chapter… goal is to protect Oscar… adults taking charge like adults… looking at Remnant a bit differently… breaking the laws of physics is a given… very little physics explained…

I hope everyone is having a great day. Thank you for reading.