written in the stars

by Faulty Paragon

Qrow misses early morning rehearsals. He misses late-night takeout. He misses being able to throw his heart and soul into every single performance, for there was nothing stopping him from reaching the world every time he stepped on stage. Now, he just misses seeing Clover. Hearing his voice through the Harbinger isn't enough. -aka a Transistor AU, following the game. Fair Game.

9. Chapter 9

written in the stars

Underneath the warm streetlights lining the paths surrounding and cutting through Beacon, he is just a blur of yellow and black, a swallowtail butterfly haunted by red taillights as he swerves through the streets, weaving through Grimm and corpses and processed land. Everywhere he looks, the obsidian grows more invasive, Tar spreading with every breath. At the very least, it is nowhere near as cold now that he wears a jacket. He only hopes the wind does not tear away the last dregs of Clover's cologne from the collar.

Finally, they arrive at the crossroads. His heart pulses in his ears, pounding with such fervent strength that he grows dizzy. This is it. He is not ready to make this decision, and yet… he knows not of what else to do.

"We're almost out of here, Songbird," Clover whispers. "C'mon. Turn left at the cliffs, follow the trail out, and we'll be rolling on out of here soon enough. Let's get you out- I'm sure we can figure out what happened to you once we're away from all this chaos-"

While Clover speaks, Qrow revs the engine once, twice in the night. It echoes in the air, ringing louder than the distant screams and roars which pervade the air. Here, there is a moment of tranquility, only broken up by the sound of the motorcycle- only broken up by their presence.

There is no going back.

So, holding his breath, Qrow kicks the bike forward and takes the cliff-side road.

For a long, long moment, there is nothing but the wind in his ears and the screams of the damned, lost in data. Neither of them speak, the Harbinger staying dark and muted. Finally, it begins to glow as Clover attempts desperately to find the words to explain why, to reason, to make sense of the fact that Amity is growing larger in the distance as they approach the stage where it all fell apart, rather than fleeing it.

"…You turned right."

I know.

"You know that the Grimm are not going to chase you while you're in this town."

I know.

"The Circle- those bastards who are behind all of this, what're you going to do if you find them? What can you do if you find them? This isn't why you came to Remnant in the first place!"

I know.

"You're not a soldier anymore, Songbird."

I know.

'…I don't want to see you fight like this."

I know.

"You're never going to stop fighting though- not until you've gotten to the bottom of this, huh?" Clover laughs. He is not amused. "I guess I gotta say I'm proud of you."

I know.

"…I love you, you know that?" Clover's voice breaks as he whispers these words, barely audible over the cacophony echoing endlessly into the night.

…I know, Clo. I know.

Amity is waiting for them. Qrow needs his answers. At least with Clover's jacket keeping him warm, he no longer feels as alone; and with the growls of incoming Grimm growing louder and louder with every streetlight, that is all Qrow can cling to.