Corvus

Qrow's tears subside within a few moments, the man clearly fighting back his emotions as he struggles to save face. Clover is grateful for that; he is too emotionally fatigued to have to comfort Qrow whilst he is still too overwhelmed to help himself. So, the moment he feels that Qrow's trembling has died down, he releases the man and points to the opposing chair situated across the Dust light. "…you owe me an explanation."

The laugh which slips past Qrow's lips is bitter, knowing. "You're not wrong."

Sighing, Clover leans his elbows onto his knees, clasping his hands together. "Okay. Then let's go."

Qrow's face twists, the man clearly torn as he tries to sort everything out in his mind. Clover gives him no leeway. He is too tired to do so. He just needs answers. He just wants to feel comfortable again.

Shakily, Qrow begins with, "Oz… gave me and my sister Raven the power to transform. We can turn into birds." To Clover's distrustful gaze, he sighed. "It's for recon, Clover. I've done hundreds- no, probably thousands of special missions thanks to this power. I probably wouldn't have survived without it, too."

"Can you change at will?"

"Yup."

"No cost to you?"

"…No. Just some Aura- it's like using a Semblance, in a way."

Clover cannot help himself from muttering, "Well, that's convenient." Qrow winces, but before he can speak, Clover puts his foot down, leaning onto the table. "So why were you in Atlas fifteen years ago?"

Qrow's mouth opens and closes, no sound coming out; it is the same actions he always takes when he is overwhelmed. Any other day, Clover would be happy to accept it and move on; but today, Clover cannot back down, cannot let it go, cannot assume best intent and carry onwards, for those memories from fifteen years earlier of when Clover had one small thing that made him look forward to waking up every day have been tainted, and that is not something which he will allow to be ignored.

Finally, Qrow hangs his head, murmuring, "Look- I was on a mission, okay? Oz got some word of Salem's spies sneaking into the Atlesian Military. It was my job to investigate secretly while everyone was distracted by the Vytal Festival, and… there were some hiccups."

"Hiccups?"

"I got caught in a damned blizzard, okay?!" he cries, slamming an open palm onto the table, eyes shining with bitter regret. "It sapped my Aura, and then I got through into a wall and snapped my wing. I barely made it to… wherever-the-hell you found me, but Aura recovery as a crow is horse shit, so I couldn't change back."

Clover sinks back into his chair, feeling his brow knit together despite his stony gaze. He crosses his arms and sighs, dropping his gaze to his steel-toed boots, currently digging into the insulated floor tiredly. "Why didn't you tell me?" he breathes.

"What was I supposed to do?" Qrow insists, standing up with such force that his chair topples backwards behind him. Clover winces as it clatters against one of the metal bookshelves, but Qrow storms onwards regardless. "Just change back into a man once I'm all better, weeks down the line? Terrify some poor Atlas Academy kiddo who's been taking care of me like their goddamned pet by turning back into a Huntsman?!"

"You could have acted feral!" Clover yells, standing up as well to remain level with the elder. He will not be blamed for this. "You didn't have to- to-"

Immediately, Qrow sinks down onto his haunches, running his hands through his hair. "Fuck, I know, don't you think I know that?" he whispers. "You have no fucking idea how much I regretted not just finding James and hiding out there, or just biting you so you backed off, but-"

"But what, Qrow?" Clover asks. He hates the imploring edge in his tone, hates the vulnerability which he knows is clear on his face. He hates this weakness, this want, but all he can focus on is his need for answers, for his heart has been stretched so thin he does not know when he will break.

Qrow looks at him sadly through his fingers. "…You were so happy. And I… I couldn't risk it."

Couldn't risk what? There is clearly more there, but Clover instead urges him to continue. "Why didn't you tell me about it at the start, when you and the kids arrived-"

At that, Qrow's face grows almost purple, the man becoming surprisingly hostile. "What the hell do you think I was gonna do with you, Clover?! You put handcuffs on my nieces! You were not an ally! So yeah, sorry for not immediately trusting some Atlesian brat I saw for the first time in fifteen years right away when he put weapons on my little girls! Am I supposed to trust someone who does that?"

"You knew everything about me!" Clover has to swallow back the bile which rises into his throat in time with his sobs. "I've told you so much-"

"Time changes people- I would've thought you'd have figured this shit out by now."

He cannot help but flinch, for the words are true. There is no falsehood to be seen- when he had first found Qrow and the rookies, he and the Ace Ops had indeed arrested them. They had been illegal entrants, after all- deemed a threat after directly disobeying protocol in order to enter the kingdom of Atlas during the embargo. No matter how sweet their relationship may have been when Clover was still a student, there was ostensibly no reason to trust the head of the Ace Operatives back then.

Looking into Qrow's eyes, Clover can tell- the elder does not care what his reasons may have been. Clover has been an enemy from the start-

No, this is nonsense. "You know that's not true." He keeps his voice calm, level. Qrow, in response, looks up at him, lips pulled back into a snarl, but Clover merely adds, "You knew I'd never hurt you. You showed up at my window that first night. Why would you have done that if you thought I was actually a threat?"

Qrow pales and bites back his words, silently righting the amiss chair and taking an exhausted seat. Clover takes the moment of silence to study the elder.

He does not know how to read this man- perhaps that is what terrifies him the most.

Finally, Qrow whispers, "I came because I needed help, okay?"

I knew it. "With what?"

And then, to Clover's surprise, Qrow pulls the chair up to the table and leans his elbows onto it, straightening up to the point where he could almost pass off as holding some air of professionalism despite his puffy, bloodshot eyes, his tearstained cheeks, his sallow skin and messy hair. He looks almost put together as he asks, "What has James told you about me?"

The strange question knocks Clover back for a moment, for what is there to say? Slowly, Clover relays everything he can remember; James has often spoke of Qrow's talent and strength, his dedication to his cause and his nieces, his acerbic behaviour and his kind heart. Qrow seems unsatisfied with all of these answers, simply demanding, "Okay, what else?" after every single response.

Finally, Clover tosses in, "I don't know what you want, Qrow- he said you haven't been drinking with him lately?"

The way that Qrow's face absolutely falls as Clover says those words crushes his spirit. Instantly, his mind is transported back to every single instance over the past few weeks where he has seen Qrow drunk; the amount of shame the elder has always carried- the fear of alcohol when sober- the refusal to talk about it, to see it- the pure terror at the thought of showing up drunk in front of the rookies-

"It's not something you can just talk about with a potential enemy."

"Brothers, Qrow," he breathes, reaching across the table as the pieces finally, at long last, click into place. How could he have been so blind? How could he have missed all the signs? "Drinking? Is that what the problem was?"

"I promised Yang and Ruby I wouldn't do it anymore," the elder whispers, voice hitching. He pulls his hand away from Clover's without hesitation. "It's been… rough."

Clover has to swallow down the million questions which scream to be asked, begging with all their might within his heart. Alcoholism is not something seen often in Atlas; he knows that it is often classified a disorder in more vulnerable populations, but in general, no one survives mental illnesses upon Remnant. Unless one is able to fight off the Grimm that inevitably find those suffering from emotional turmoil, then tragic, vicious death is often the assumed endpoint. Perhaps that is why he has never even entertained the idea of it being what is haunting Qrow Branwen.

But Huntsmen are different. In the Academies, Huntsmen are trained to be hopeful, to be positive, to look towards the shining future and to treat the creatures of Grimm as something more akin to game sport than actual threats. It is not out of cockiness, but of the unspoken necessity to avoid drawing more Grimm during battle.

However, if it is a powerful Huntsmen who is suffering, perhaps they would be fine; Huntsmen can fight off all of the monsters which come sensing a trail of heartbroken breadcrumbs, the seeds all sewn by depression and fear and-

Qrow is one of the strongest Huntsmen I've ever met.

The chill that sweeps over Clover from head to toe is indescribable as he realizes that Qrow's strength has likely never come from intentional practice, but from the need to stay alive.

It has grown deathly silent in the small room by the time Clover finally murmurs, "Why did you start drinking?"

"Because of my Semblance." At Clover's confusion, Qrow says, clearly too exhausted to defend himself any longer, "I… my Semblance has followed me my whole life. It's cost me happiness more times than I can count. It's taken countless loved ones away from me, too." His wry smile twitches, almost manic as pure grief fills his gaze. "Ruby's mom was like that. We were partners, teammates at Beacon. I couldn't save her from myself, my damned misfortune."

Clover lets out a long, haggard breath, absorbing this slowly- but before he can speak, Qrow continues. "Do you know the one thing that's always helped numb my Semblance? The one thing that can dull it- sometimes even stop it, aside from just running out of Aura constantly?"

The sinking dread within Clover's gut is justified as Qrow snorts, his voice cracking as he mockingly cheers, "Getting trashed. Woo! When I'm drunk my Semblance has never bothered me. Ever since I found out about that little trick, I've been drinking all the time- so make that, what, twenty-four years of daily drinking?" He sniffles, leaning his head over the back of the chair, covering his face with his ringed, trembling fingers once again. Muffled, his voice emerges as heartbroken sobs as he finally confesses, "But when I was drunk I got depressed, and I attracted more Grimm, and I wasn't able to protect everyone. Not always. Do you have any goddamn idea how hard it is to realize that- that what you've been doing for so damn long to keep your loved ones safe is the one thing that's been hurting them the most?!"

Clover tries standing up from his chair, reaching across the table. "Qrow-"

"Ruby and Yang are the reasons I made it to Solitas. I didn't do shit for them!" the elder practically screams. "I was too drunk and too damn broken-hearted to be useful. Do you have any idea how painful that is? To know that my nieces- my little girls- are the ones protecting me when I should be-" His words trail off, heart shattering upon his sleeve for Clover to see. "Ruby cried after she yelled at me about it, Clover."

"So you decided to quit?"

Nodding miserably, Qrow finally straightens up in his seat once again. "So I decided to quit," he intones. "Which is great in theory. Not so great when I don't have any goddamn idea how to do it."

"We can get you help-"

"I don't want help," Qrow gasps, voice hoarse.

Clover almost retaliates, but something in him begs him to pause, to think. Why wouldn't Qrow involve anyone in his recovery? It is like an illness, and the man is in the most advanced kingdom in the world, so if he is able to push aside his shame and embarrassment-

Clover wants to gag when he realizes the truth. "You're scared of hurting someone who tries to support you."

Qrow shrugs, face sagging in pure weariness. "I didn't know about your Semblance when I first met you," he whispers. "I was terrified back then- I kept waiting for something awful to happen to you because of my misfortune, because I wasn't able to drink nor control my Semblance, but you just seemed so goddamn happy to see me every day. Nothing affected you." Snorting, he adds, "You were cuter back then. Kinda reminded me of the kids."

Clover leans forward, placing his forehead against the cool metal of the table. Taking in a deep breath, he says, "So it's safer to be near me more so than anyone else when you're sober."

Qrow hums in agreement. "Basically."

The weight of the truth bears down heavily upon his shoulders. He has no idea what to say- what can he say? What can he possibly do to make this a little easier for Qrow-

But something still does not sit right with Clover. "You…" He stands up, skirting around the table to meet Qrow face-to-face. "You didn't know my Semblance that first night, though," he murmurs slowly, voice low, controlled. "I told you in the mines. You didn't know until then."

To his surprise, Qrow does not flinch, yell, cry; instead, he flushes, the dusting of pink across the bridge of his nose all the way to the tips of his ears making him look years younger. "I…"

Clover kneels in front of the elder, placing a hand on his knee. "Please, Qrow," he says, internally cursing himself for how much his voice has come out begging. "I just- I need to know. Why did you come back if you couldn't trust me?"

Averting his gaze, Qrow finally whispers, "-warm."

He frowns, standing again. "I'm sorry, what-"

"You're warm." His face is burning a bright scarlet, almost matching the colour of his eyes, of the fire-Dust lamp upon the table. "Withdrawal and cravings and all that- it leaves you freezing. It's been awful, Clover," he gasps, pushing his hair out of his eyes, shocked at his own words. "In bird form, they're a little less painful. That's why I'm always transforming out of missions when I can- it's just easier that way."

He cannot hold back the questions anymore. It's all just too much. "But why me?"

"I just needed to stay somewhere where I wouldn't be able to drink- where I could stay as a crow and not worry about losing anything. And with your goddamn luck, I would never be able to hurt you, either." With a rueful smile, Qrow adds brokenly, "You once loved a crow. I… thought you might not mind again."

You once loved a crow. I thought you might not mind again.

Brothers, how true that statement rings for Clover.

His Scroll beeps. Checking it, he reads listlessly, "Communications are re-established. Extractions will begin. We will continue this mission in two days' time. For now, we need to get to the top of the wall."

Qrow's face mirrors his own- closing off, growing deadened with the task ahead. There is no more room for error. "…alright."

Clover shivers as he leaves the room, feeling Qrow's gaze lingering upon him. He has never seen someone swallow their grief so quickly for the sake of the mission.

No wonder he has survived.

The thought leaves a sour taste upon Clover's tongue.

If anyone notices on the airships back to Atlas that Clover and Qrow are dead-silent, looking more haggard and worn than if they had spent that entire blizzard outside in combat, then they say nothing. The duo is given a wide berth until they arrived back at the academy, where Clover gives a quick debrief and next steps before dismissing everyone for the day.

Before he leaves, however, he turns to Qrow. "What do you want from me, Qrow?"

"…comfort."

"Help?"

Guilty eyes look away. "…yes, please."

Looking up at him dolefully, Clover adds, so faintly he knows even Qrow can scarcely hear it, "What am I to you?"

"…I don't know."

The tenderness that floods the elder's face speaks volumes, though, and as Clover turns on his heel to head back to his quarters, he knows that despite his better judgement, he will be leaving his window unlocked that evening, for he does not know how he can turn Qrow Branwen away knowing what he does now.

At least he has some of the answers, and he no longer feels scared to turn the lights on in his quarters. He is no longer scared to be seen. That shall have to be enough for now.