There was so much red.
Red on his clothes.
Red on his hands.
The blood pooling around him in an iniquitous display of gore that hurt to look at. Yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene. His weapon beside him, covered in Clover's blood; his friend's blood. His stomach lurched as he heaved himself towards him. Placing hand and cloak across his wound in what would become a fruitless endeavor. Tears fell from his eyes as his knees hit the ground, though he paid no attention to them, desperate to do something, to do anything at all.
He refused to let him die. Qrow would not under any circumstances let the man who changed how he saw his own semblance die. Furiously working against time, he wouldn't lose another person. Not again.
The Ace Ops memeber had done so much for him in such a short time and had asked for nothing in return. Gone out of way to help them at every turn. The wrong set of orders led them both here, as much as he wished it hadn't. Led him to fight against his comrade as though he was just another obstacle in their way. He could've refused.
Qrow shook his head violently at the thought. It wasn't his fault that Ironwood lost his mind in this war, he was just as much a pawn as himself. Foolishly risking their lives for the wrong people time and time again.
"Qrow." He paused and looked downward haltingly, terrified of what he may see.
Soft eyes stared back at him. Not in anger or disgust but in resignation, almost apologetic as shaky hands held his own. One last smile graced his visage, putting every bit of emotion into his hold before teal eyes fell closed for the final time.
The world went silent around him. Qrow's body shook unknowingly, anger and grief flooding his veins. Placed in his hand was his pin, scratched and soaked in his blood. Blood that no longer pumped through his now still chest.
No. No. Nonononononono...
He screamed to heavens unbiden, grief and anger rampaging through his mind. At Ironwood, at Tyrian, at himself.
An arriving bullhead bathed him in its light as it landed. He could hear the heavy footed steps of soldiers approaching quickly but he could not will his body to move. He could only hold tightly to Clover's hand, his pin held so tightly on his other fist that it drew blood.
He could hear them cocking weapons behind him, screaming orders at him. Qrow's eyes remained closed, uncaring at the violent body racking sobs that shook his body.
What am I supposed to do now?