Legal Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY, Red vs. Blue, or any of the shows' characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.
Chapter Nine:
"So, you've been here in Atlas this whole time?" Nora asked Pyrrha in staunch disbelief as the younger Huntresses and Huntsmen crowded around the red-haired girl seated by Jaune on a couch in the common area of their barracks. The small gathering from before had been joined by Kaikaina, Grif, and Donut following their moving here to talk further, Donut literally squealing at the dramatic reveal ("Oh, I'm so happy for you guys!") while Kai had raised an eyebrow ("You've been hiding in plain sight? That's kind of hot.") and Grif wordlessly moved to sit beside Simmons, placing a hand on the other young man's shoulder when he didn't think anyone was paying attention. Qrow sent the clearly exhausted Oscar to his room even though the boy had wanted to stay, telling him they'd fill him in later.
"Yes," Pyrrha replied, her face momentarily flushing in shame as she stared down at her hand clasped in Jaune's, "I've been actively trying to avoid running into all of you."
"But why?" Jaune asked, brows furrowing, "That doesn't make any sense!"
"Yeah," Simmons asked his half-sister quietly, "Why just up and leave without saying anything?"
Pyrrha frowned and glanced over at Clover momentarily, "I didn't have much of a choice." She finally murmured, green eyes downcast.
The brown-haired soldier stiffened at the silent implications in her words, and he felt a chill race along his body as he put two and two together, "Hargrove." He muttered out loud, fists clenching at his side. His adoptive father wasn't even content just to ruin his life, he had to drag other people into Charon's schemes as well. Next to him, Qrow started at the utterance, but Clover refused to meet his red-eyed gaze just then.
She nodded, the frown on her face deepening, "He somehow found out about my Semblance, and wanted to recruit me into Charon." Her green eyes took in the occupants of the room meaningfully, "He was very persuasive."
"He threatened you." Qrow said astutely, letting out a frustrated sigh as dawning realization and horror spilled onto the faces of those around him.
Pyrrha shook her head, "Not just me." She replied, giving Jaune's hand a tender squeeze, "But my teammates. My family."
"Which is why you never contacted us in Argus." Simmons breathed out, his green eyes widening in understanding.
"And why you left without saying anything." Jaune murmured, returning the hand squeeze Pyrrha had given him.
"I'm so, so sorry!" Pyrrha exclaimed, a look of apologetic anguish crossing over the Charon agent's features, "If it had just been me, I wouldn't have worried so much but—!"
Jaune smiled slightly and squeezed her hand again reassuringly, "Hey, it's okay, Pyrrha." He said gently.
"We're all aware of just what that man is capable of." Clover told her succinctly, crossing his sleeveless arms over his chest, "He would have acted had you not gotten in line." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Qrow regarding him with a frown on his face but the elder Huntsman thankfully said nothing.
"So you were afraid to see us again here because of that?" Ren asked in quiet understanding, his eyes holding a sympathetic gaze.
Pyrrha nodded, "Yes. I'm sorry. Today was just an accident." She said, looking down at the floor as if she was willing it to swallow her whole.
"Yeah, but a happy accident!" Nora cut her off, suddenly launching from her seat to tackle the other girl in yet another hug, "You've no idea how worried we were about you, Pyrrha!"
"I know." Pyrrha said, smiling faintly as she returned the gesture with one arm while her other hand still grasped Jaune's, "I'm sorry, Nora. I'm happy to be here with you all too. Truly."
"Aw!" Donut exclaimed, sniffling, "I just love happy reunions!"
"This is great and all," Grif deadpanned, his voice bringing them back down to Remnant, "But what exactly happens now?" Simmons stared at the chubby Faunus in surprise at how observant he was, and Grif merely shrugged his shoulders at the regard, "What? I doubt Hargrove is going to let her just walk away."
"He's right." Qrow spoke up before Clover could intervene, his lanky arms also crossed over his chest, "What's to prevent him from acting on those threats now?"
Pyrrha frowned, though there was a determined light in her green eyes, "As long as I'm still working for Charon, there shouldn't be a problem." She explained, determination in her voice.
Jaune's eyes lit up in concern, "You sure about that?" He asked, clearly not liking that she'd still be with Charon and under Hargrove's thumb.
"Yeah, Pyrrha. No need to force yourself to work for that jerk anymore on our account." Nora said, scoffing at the notion, "We can handle ourselves!"
Pyrrha smiled at her friend, "I know you can." She replied, pride evident in her eyes.
"If the General King found out..." Simmons began, trailing off when he obviously didn't want to voice the rest of his thoughts.
"Unfortunately, I don't think you can rely on Jimmy in this case." Qrow told them matter-of-factly, "Charon is too important of a power structure here to just punish them directly over something like this."
The hidden meaning behind the older Huntsman's words was clear. If Hargrove nearly murdering his own son wasn't enough of an incentive to punish Charon for their actions, then what happened with Pyrrha would surely not be either. Clover couldn't help but frown at the implication, though a part of him knew it to be true. After all, it was one of the main reasons why he didn't want to go telling people about Oscar.
"So we just act like nothing happened and everything is hunky-dory?" Kai asked in disbelief, "Dude. That sucks."
"Unfortunately for the moment, that might be our best bet." Clover spoke up then, his voice tight. He hated saying it, but what other option did they have? If even James' hands were tied...
"B—but—!" Simmons began, though Pyrrha was quick to shut down the protests that were forming on his, Nora's, and Jaune's lips.
"Captain Ebi is right. That is our safest course of action currently." She told them firmly, though she was quick to smile as well, "But truthfully? I'm just glad that I am able to talk with you all like this again."
And that was all it took for an impromptu group hug to happen once more: cries and laughter intermingling throughout it. Clover sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he watched the heartwarming display, his chest feeling heavy all the same. He needed to go somewhere private, he needed to think. Or not to think, more likely. He refused to meet Qrow's knowing sharp-eyed gaze as he quickly made his way to the exit.
Qrow found Clover later in a tavern of all places, one that he used to frequent back in his drinking days. His graying eyebrows shot up in surprise as the captain of the Ace Ops lifted a beer to him in quiet greeting. Not that he could necessarily blame the younger man for wanting to drink at that particular moment. Being reminded of just how much an asshole his adopted father was on top of the earlier stress of the day was no doubt rough on Salem's Inheritor.
Still, it was rather hard for Qrow to even step foot in places like this tavern again given his memories of drunken, stumbling nights from years ago. Fortunately, it appeared as if the current barkeep was new and therefore wouldn't remember having to throw Qrow out into the cold Atlas snow years prior. The smell alone nearly made him sick, and he had to involuntarily stop himself from reaching into his pocket for where his flask used to be, shame filling his mind at the same time. Qrow was here for a reason, and he wasn't going to leave without him.
"Qrow." Clover greeted, turning in his seat to face the older Huntsman, face slightly red from the alcohol he'd already consumed, "Fancy seeing you here!"
"Not really." Qrow replied, scoffing as he took the seat next to the brunette, "I used to come here before you could even probably legally drink, lucky charm."
"Is that so?" Clover asked, tapping the edge of his beer bottle almost contemplatively, "And here I am now."
"Here you are now." Qrow said in way of agreement, red eyes peering over at him in concern, "Are you sure you should be?"
The teal-eyed soldier opted not to respond to his question, instead bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a swig, "How're Pyrrha and the others?" He asked, teal eyes lingering away from Qrow's face.
"They're fine," the older man replied, "Right now they've a lot of catching up to do." Qrow remembered how his nieces and several of the others had also recently joined the group before he'd gone off to find Clover.
Clover's eyes narrowed in consternation as he gazed at the table's surface, "I can't believe Hargrove did that. That she...she still has to work for him." He muttered, his tone one of anguish.
Qrow raised an eyebrow in surprise, "You can't after what he pulled with you?" He asked disbelievingly, Clover's teal eyes making their way back to his face to catch his gaze.
"That was—!" Clover tried saying before cutting himself off, blinking as he looked away again rather pointedly, "That was different."
"Really? How so?"
"Because at least having an Inheritor could be technically good for Remnant." He managed to slur out, "But forcing someone into working for him like that..." The brunette trailed off, his mind clearly wandering to past memories he'd rather not share.
"You didn't choose to become an Inheritor either, Cloves." Qrow said gently, placing a hand on his arm supportively.
"I did though." Clover's hiccupped reply was barely a whisper, and Qrow desperately wanted to believe he'd misheard him over the tavern's loud acoustics.
"What?" Qrow asked, freezing at the younger man's admission.
"Hargrove told me about what he planned to do before he did it. In the temple." Clover admitted shakily, "I went along with it because I thought he was doing it for a greater cause."
"Clover..."
Salem's Inheritor let out a shaky breath, "I didn't even think that he'd just be interested in securing more of his power, Qrow. I was so naive. I was..." He trailed off, not sure how to finish his sentence.
"He was your father, Clover." Qrow finished for him, "You just didn't want to see that side of him."
"And to hear he's still doing that sort of thing, and knowing there's really nothing I can do to stop it?" Clover asked, shaking with unshed tears as his muscular frame hunched over his bottle and the table.
"Hey." Qrow said, reaching out yet again to grab his sleeveless arm, causing Clover to glance in his direction once more, "It's not your fault, Clover."
"I...I know, but—!" He began, his face flushed from alcohol.
"She's a strong kid." Qrow said, squeezing his arm gently, "You both are. We'll figure things out."
Clover nodded shakily in response, though in the next second he mumbled something unintelligible under his breath.
"What's that?" Qrow leaned in closer to better hear him.
"I'm not a kid anymore." Clover muttered, and his warm breath that smelled painfully of alcohol hit Qrow right in the face as he turned his head around to face the other man, "I'm thirty-three, damn it!"
Qrow blinked in surprise, his grip on Clover's arm loosening in response, "Cloves..." He said, unsure how else to respond.
Before he could fully pull away, Clover reached out and grabbed the Huntsman's pale hand tightly in his own, "I'm not a kid anymore, Qrow." He muttered again, voice sounding much stronger and more emphatic.
"Okay," Qrow said, glancing down at his captured hand, heat radiating into it from Clover's fingers, "You're definitely not."
"And I want to be actual partners with you. Not someone you're just looking after for James." Clover explained, smiling warmly as an intense gleam entered his hooded teal eyes, "We work well-together. Don't you think?"
Qrow felt his own face flush then, and he definitely couldn't blame it on alcohol, "Y-yeah, shamrock. We do." He answered, his red eyes making note of how calloused Clover's fingertips were.
"Good." Clover said, nodding as if their conversation had decided something very important, his touch on Qrow lingering just a bit longer as he stumbled up from his seat and pulled the older Huntsman up along with him, "Let's get out of here."
Qrow's entire body felt hot despite how they exited into the frigid cold of Atlas. He looked down to see that his hand was still gripped tightly in Clover's own. Suddenly, his mind reeled over just what had happened, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest right then and there.
"Is everything all right?"
Qrow turned around at James Ironwood's concerned voice as he closed the door to Clover's apartment, "Hey, James," he replied, running his fingers through his black-and-graying hair nervously, "Yeah, everything's fine. Clover is just tired from everything that happened."
"Really? Because from what the servants were saying it seems as if he perhaps had a bit too much to drink."
Qrow glowered at the suddenly visible form of Hargrove behind Ironwood. Of course the two would've been in a meeting or some other bullshit together at this very moment. Ironwood raised an eyebrow when Qrow didn't respond, "Is that true, Qrow?" He asked, clearly not pleased if that was the case.
Red eyes narrowed in Hargrove's direction, and he purposefully moved to stand in front of the closed door to Clover's apartment, "And I wonder who might be the cause of that?" He managed to get out through clenched teeth, addressing Hargrove while ignoring Ironwood's inquiry entirely.
Hargrove did not take the bait, however, merely raising his gray eyebrow in obvious distaste, "Your reputation proceeds you, Huntsman Branwen. Perhaps you are a poor influence on my son after all." He said matter-of-factly, as if describing something mundane like the weather.
Qrow's fists clenched at his sides, "Want to say that again, old man?" He asked, stepping forward to intimidate Hargrove so that he'd get the hell away from him.
"I'll say it as many times as you require."
"I haven't so much as touched a bottle in—!"
"Enough!" Ironwood bellowed, stepping imperiously between the two of them men just then as he glared at both Qrow and Hargrove, "Clearly this has been a stressful day for everyone." His large presence was enough to get Hargrove to take a step back subconsciously.
Qrow scoffed, "You don't even know the half of it, Jimmy." He muttered and, even if he did, would the General King even act upon it? Qrow thought back to Ironwood's reaction to Hargrove's attempts to use Clover after he became Salem's Inheritor. If he wouldn't even help a comrade like the captain of the Ace Ops, then what chance did Pyrrha have? Besides, the girl had asked them not to say anything about the matter. Too many adults had already betrayed her trust for Qrow to want to do so now.
"So enlighten me, Qrow." Ironwood requested of him tersely, blue eyes narrowing in trepidation.
And the Huntsman found that he couldn't. He couldn't betray Pyrrha's trust or Clover's confidence like that. He begrudgingly remained silent, red eyes staring back at Ironwood defiantly.
"I see." Ironwood said, his expression darkening slightly at Qrow's decision as he moved to exit the hallway.
"Jimmy..." Qrow began, though he stopped himself as he wasn't sure of just what to say.
Ironwood paused, but didn't look over his shoulder at the other man, "Continue watching Clover, Qrow." He said, exhaustion evident in his voice.
"Yes, because he's been doing such a fine job of it so far." Hargrove sneered. Qrow turned to him with a snarl on his face, but was interrupted by Hargrove snapping his fingers suddenly. A girl with brown and pink hair seemed to melt out of the shadows then, bowing slightly to both Ironwood and Hargrove. When her dual-colored stare landed on Qrow, she smirked slightly.
"Neopolitan." Hargrove said in way of addressing her, "See to it that this hallway isn't disturbed. Captain Ebi needs his rest." The girl called Neopolitan nodded curtly and trotted down the corridor as if she owned the place, "I hope you don't mind some assistance at the moment, Huntsman Branwen." The older man's tone indicated he didn't care either way what Qrow thought, "Clover is valuable to Remnant, after all."
"As long as you're as far away from him as possible." Qrow couldn't help but get out, inwardly seething.
"We should be going, Chairman." Ironwood said, quick to grab onto Hargrove's shoulder to thankfully divert his attention away from Qrow, "You said there was still matters we needed to discuss?"
"Yes, of course. About Charon's Golem creation process..."
Hargrove's voice trailed off as he and Ironwood left the corridor, Qrow sighing as leaned against the door to Clover's apartment shakily, desperately wanting a drink. Today had been wild for all sorts of reasons. Qrow found himself hoping that things would be calming down now, but he found that his hand was still warm from where Clover's fingers had held it and somehow he doubted things would ever be calm again.
Author's Notes: Yay, I finally got to introduce Neopolitan into the story! She has some fun future interactions with Doc and Donut in particular that I'll be looking forward to writing out. :) Thank you, as always, for reading! :D