Corvus

He does not get any answers, no matter how much he longs to ask. All he receives for his woes are more kisses to his temple, more shifting feathers and skin, more murmured thank-you's before Clover is left all alone to an empty bed and a frigid room each morning.

It is absolutely infuriating.

And yet, Clover cannot bring himself to say a word about it. He has always been an incredibly fast learner; he simply adapts, understanding quickly how to regulate his breathing, how to maintain the rhythm of his heart as he comes into consciousness each morning in time to feel the body he has come to crave so desperately slipping away from him. So, although he could very easily open his eyes and confront Qrow, he does not, for Clover realizes that something incredible is happening in the few weeks after their arrangement is solidified.

Qrow is getting better.

No longer does he look like a stray wind shall topple him over, nor does he appear so fragile a single word will shatter him. Instead, Qrow has colour and weight to his cheeks- a fire in his eyes, and lightness to his step- a humour to his voice, a patience which he had formerly only reserved for the children, now shared with the rest of the world. Qrow no longer looks like a shell of a man, desperately fighting to make it through each day. He really looks like he is healthier.

When Clover mentions this, Qrow can only smile, his eyes creasing so warmly as they look at Clover that all of the younger's frustration disappears in the blink of an eye. "It's thanks to you," Qrow admits softly as they follow the children out of the briefing room one morning. "Sleep really is a make-or-break factor, huh?"

"I'll be sure to add 'body pillow' and 'personal heater' to my resume," Clover replies lightly, grinning, trying to play off the fact that Qrow looks so sweet as he says this, so alive, that Clover can barely stay abreast with it all.

Strangely enough, Qrow's smile falls, a tinge of doubt entering his gaze, brows furrowing slightly. Clover does not know what causes this. He wishes he did- he just wants Qrow to be okay again.

One afternoon, whilst on a cargo run to Amity, Qrow sighs as Clover lays down the cards in his hands upon the crate they have turned into a table at the back of the supply truck. This is routine for them- playing cards, trading light banter. Ever since Qrow had confessed about his drinking, these trips have become far more bearable, for no longer does the elder look like he shall snap at any moment in anger towards Clover, towards the world. Instead, it is easier than ever to reach over and grab onto Qrow's shoulder reassuringly, soothing the man when he begins to look pale or dizzy or dehydrated. And now that he is beginning to actually look whole again, Clover has enjoyed getting to see different sides of Qrow Branwen.

He cannot wait for the day Qrow is finally freed of his alcoholism. He does not know when that day will come, but he can only imagine with bated breath- the person Qrow will truly become after he is freed from this suffering will be incredible.

Right now, however, Qrow is simply agitated, facing falling as he realizes Clover's victory.

"I win again," Clover says, grinning sheepishly. It is in times like these that he wishes he could turn his Semblance off; it feels utterly unfair to play games of chance with Qrow like this. "Maybe we should call it quits?"

Qrow merely groans, covering his face ashamedly with pointed fingers. "Shut up and deal," he growls.

Clover laughs, for he knows Qrow isn't truly upset. That in itself is such a huge change from the man he had known a month earlier. It is breathtaking.

With that thought in mind, Clover happily gathers up the cards and shuffles them, readying himself for another round while Ruby and Penny chat idly in the front seat. He can hear Penny laying question after question upon Ruby; if it were to Harriet or Elm or Marrow, Penny would've been told to shut up by this point, for the three of them would've never been able to answer so calmly. Vine would have simply begun to ignore Penny's questions. It is heartwarming to see how at ease Ruby is instead, explaining her responses so succinctly that Clover wonders why anything has to be complicated at all.

Maybe it's just complicated because we're old. The cards riffle through his fingers. We've made things far more difficult than they need to be.

He envies Ruby's straightforwardness, Penny's earnest nature. He wishes he could be like that.

To Qrow, he murmurs, "Your niece sure is one of a kind, huh?"

Qrow's expression immediately softens as he looks over his shoulder at his niece. The girl has recovered many weeks ago from that terrible injury, and yet, Qrow always looks terrified when he sees her heading off for another mission- that is why Clover has been intentional in trying to schedule her with the two of them as often as possible, after all. "They all are," Qrow concedes. "Been through a lot together."

Something about those words makes it sound as if Qrow is removing himself from the equation, as if he was never part of their story. That's not what I've been told about it. "It's a good thing they had someone to look up to and get them through it. Not everyone is so lucky," he reminds Qrow, dealing the cards skillfully, praying to the heavens that he won't get all the good cards for once.

It is a fruitless prayer. He could probably win with his current hand flawlessly. Based on how Qrow's eyes twitch, his mouth curling downwards slightly when he sees his cards, Qrow is dealing with the opposite situation.

"I don't know about all that," the elder replies, focusing on his cards. Then, he looks up, ears tinging pink lightly as he mutters, "Thanks, by the way. For looking out for 'em. You and your team."

Clover shrugs, for it has not been any big burden to take care of the rookies. He is the one who is grateful; after all, they are capable and skilled, a joy to teach.

And, they brought Qrow to him. They inspired Qrow to change, which led him to Clover. For that, Clover will always be grateful.

"What good is saving the world without another generation waiting in the wings? Hopefully they'll leave Remnant better than we left it for them," he muses.

Qrow smiles, mimicking the motion of raising a glass. "Once upon a time, I'd have drank to that."

Clover freezes stock-still, turning to look at Qrow. He has never brought up his drinking outside of his moments of weakness- he has never so blatantly referenced his desire to quit.

Brothers, he really is getting better.

Something about that thought makes Clover want to weep with pride and heartache- soon, Qrow might wake up one day and find that he is whole, or at the very least, repaired enough.

Soon, Qrow might not need him anymore.

But then, he sees the twist in Qrow's mouth, the shame flickering in his eyes, and suddenly, he realizes what Qrow is trying to do- who Qrow is trying to convince. "You shouldn't do that, you know," he mutters lowly.

Qrow's eyes widen, panicked. "Don't worry, I-I gave that up-"

"I meant," Clover smiles, scanning over his cards, "deflect a compliment. Those kids wouldn't be where they are without you." He looks back to Qrow, genuine and sincere and open, praying that his heart will transmit to the elder. He is not good at this whole 'earnest' thing, not like Ruby or Penny- but he can try. "You've had more of an effect on them than you realize."

The way Qrow's expression twists, shatters- thin, chapped lips quirking up into a smile while his brows furrow in doubt, eyes shining hopefully, expecting nothing as a result- is enough to break Clover's heart.

He sighs, putting down his cards and reaching across the box to grab Qrow's hand which brushes through his hair sheepishly, trying to deflect despite Clover's reprimand. That hand immediately listens to him, so accustomed to Clover's touch, whether he realizes it or not; Clover sees it, though, biting down his heartbreak and loneliness in favour of squeezing the other man's hand reassuringly.

You're doing well, he mouths.

Qrow's eyes crease happily, and for a moment, he doesn't look as broken-hearted anymore.

The rest of the mission passes with only minor hiccups, leaving them back at Atlas Academy with naught but a few reports to write up. Most of them shall be Clover's responsibility, so after he speaks to their transport pilot and arranges for the pickups the following day, he turns to meet Qrow, ready to tell him when he shall be back in his quarters.

However, Qrow is focused on Ruby when Clover finally finds them upon the tarmac. Clover steps closer, just enough to listen, but not enough for his boots to draw attention in the empty area. There is a strange look on Qrow's face; Clover does not want to interrupt, does not want to break him down.

"Hey, kiddo," Qrow murmurs, looking at Ruby carefully, "you're happy here, right?"

Ruby frowns, analyzing his expression. She appears to find what she is looking for fairly quickly, softening in the blink of an eye. "Of course!" she chirps. "I have Yang here with me, and my teammates and friends. And I have you."

Qrow starts, but doesn't say a word.

Ruby chuckles wryly, clasping her hands behind her back as she leans over to him. "You're doing amazing, Uncle Qrow," she says gently.

"Wh-whaddya mean, Ruby-"

"We saw you get rid of your flask when we got to Atlas," she explains. "I know it must be really hard, but Yang and I talk about it all the time, y'know? We're so proud of you." And with that, she tenderly wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest, grinning like a fool as her uncle returns the embrace wordlessly.

Clover can see his shoulders trembling. Time to do those reports quickly, I guess.

After finishing everything up in record time (and delegating the last two reports to Elm, much to her chagrin) Clover finds himself seated on his bed in his sleepwear, ready to welcome Qrow in. He does not know what state Qrow will be in after Ruby's confession to him.

All he does know is that Clover needs to reinforce Ruby's words, now more than ever. He needs Qrow to understand just how incredible he is- maybe if they all repeat it enough, Qrow will finally believe them.

So, when Qrow arrives at his door that day, getting changed into his own sleepwear in the bathroom and re-emerging within minutes, his exhaustion from the day's events setting in, Clover is waiting. He holds his arms open. "I overheard what Ruby said to you," he says simply. "I told you- you've done right by them."

Those words make Qrow crumble, the man's expression scrunching together in a pathetic attempt to hold back the tears. He is able to do it, just barely, but still, he enters Clover's embrace without a word, and the two crawl into bed just as usual.

Slumber always comes easily with Qrow, whether he wants it to or not; just as easy, however, is his awakening. The moment Qrow begins to shift, Clover snaps into alertness, mentally going through the checklist he has prepared for himself each morning, ensuring that he is calm and ready to maintain his façade of slumber while Qrow leaves him.

Before Qrow can leave this night- or early morning, as it may be- Clover finds himself opening his eyes despite every cell in his body screaming at him to just stay quiet, to play pretend, he's gotten so good at pretend, why is he ruining it-

"Stay," Clover murmurs, grabbing onto Qrow's sleeve before the elder can slip out of bed.

The alarm which wracks Qrow's entire body is palpable, but Clover has had enough. He is tired of waiting, of wanting, of not saying a word and pushing his own heart to the side because he doesn't want to risk breaking Qrow. Qrow is stronger now.

Clover cannot carry both of their hearts forever. He's so, so tired.

"Stay," he repeats, tugging Qrow's wrist slightly. "I won't let you run away anymore."

"No," Qrow rasps, voice hoarse and confused. "I can't- I have to-"

"Have to nothing, Qrow," Clover insists. "You know why?"

Qrow pauses, red eyes glistening in the moonlight.

Clover smiles, reaching up and brushing Qrow's hair out of his face with his other hand. "Because I'm proud of you, Qrow. And you deserve to get a full night's sleep for once. Wasn't it you who said sleep matters?"

Qrow's mouth opens feebly. "B-but-"

"But what?" Clover asks, tugging the elder more firmly back towards him. "Your luck? Your Semblance can try its hardest, but it won't win, Qrow. Mine's stronger than ever." At Qrow's confused look, Clover can only shrug, murmuring, "I sleep better with you here, too."

Qrow flushes at that, looking to the side. "I- Clover, shit, I-"

But Clover has had enough of this, enough of dancing around and pretending like he is a kind man. He is selfish. He always has been. One does not become the leader of Atlas' top-ranking military unit thanks to empathy and selflessness, after all.

So, before Qrow can try and run, Clover leans over and kisses Qrow's temple, just as Qrow has done every night for weeks.

The elder is frozen, but when Clover tries to guide him back under the covers, he listens, his body pliant and willing. Without a word, Clover brings him back into his arms, tucking Qrow's head under his chin, murmuring, "I'll wake you up in time, don't worry. No one will know. Just sleep well, okay?" He does not say anything about the shuddering breath Qrow releases, nor the wetness upon his collarbone from Qrow's tears. He simply closes his eyes, and sleeps peacefully.

And in the morning, early as it may be, crimson opens and looks back at him, bleary and puffy and rested; and Clover realizes with a tiny, awed smile that this is all he has ever wanted.