Qrow Branwen does not fall in love.
He never falls in love with Summer. Each time Tai and Raven have left, and she says that they should study up for the next test or practice sparring, and her hand slips into his, he ignores it.
It's a schoolgirl crush. She'll grow out of it.
Each time he sees Raven laughing at one of Tai's terrible jokes, he feels a pang of longing for something. A home. A family. A life with some semblance of normalcy.
But people like him don't get happy endings.
Each time a team member is a moment too late to dodge, each time they spend weeks hovering between life and death because of his Semblance, he drinks. He drinks until Summer's face, always with the same smile, blurs into the faces of his team that he will always endanger.
Each time, Summer insists that none of it was his fault. Insists that he is more than just a Semblance. More than a bad luck charm.
Each time he tries to block out her words. Tries to dismiss her with all the stinging comments he can muster. Tries to accept that he will always be a danger to his team.
As soon as he can, he leaves his team. He returns once or twice a year to watch his nieces grow up, because he knows that the faces of his team will light up when he arrives. He tells himself that he can't hurt his team if he's far away for enough time.
It is never enough time.
And one day when he returns, bloodied and drained from another fight, Ozpin tells him that Summer is dead.
Tai tells him that it isn't his fault.
Tai has always been a bad liar.
But his nieces love hearing stories about his travels, and Tai can't train them both on his own, so Qrow keeps returning.
And he knows that eventually he will doom his only remaining family by staying.
So he keeps leaving.
…
Qrow Branwen does not fall in love.
He can see through Winter's tough exterior. Can guess and piece together her story. Her father is an industrialist, her mother a former Huntress. Neither wanted her. She joined the military to escape the oppressive legacy of her father's company. Nothing extraordinary.
He sees how she gets colder around him. Knows exactly what she's trying to hide. Each time she argues with him and protests his involvement in missions bitterly and glances at him when she thinks he won't notice, he smirks.
He has long since given up on settling down.
So Qrow mocks Winter. Teases her. Flirts when she's mad just to see if her professionalism will win out or if he'll push her too far and she'll try to fight him.
He wins the fights. It's worth the lectures from Ozpin to see the look of humiliation and fury on her face each time. And each time it's a bit easier to tip her over the edge.
It's a poor substitute for his own team and their camaraderie.
But Winter slowly begins to show that she is indeed human under the military indoctrination.
And even if Qrow knows damn well that he is a danger to everyone around him, he likes having someone at his back.
…
Qrow Branwen does not fall in love.
Over the past month, this has become less of a truth and more of a mantra.
He repeats the same information about how no one close to him can be safe whenever Clover winks at him or catches him when he falls or cuts down a Grimm before it can reach him.
Of course, just as he was accepting his solitary existence, Fate had to intervene and throw in someone who is largely unaffected by his Semblance to complicate everything. He's never been one to attract good fortune. It's some kind of perfect, fucked-up way of encompassing Clover's perpetual good luck and his own bad in one event.
It catches him off guard when Clover flirts with him. The man is not as disciplined and strict as Winter or Ironwood. The smiles and glances and compliments are textbook. Not what Qrow expected from an Atlesian. And all he can do is wince and pretend that he's blind to every signal.
Qrow has the kids to protect. His nieces have grown up well, that much is true, but they still make mistakes. And Qrow is not about to let them go off and die now. The last thing he wants is a tie to Atlas, so when – not if – things go wrong and they have to fight their way out of this place, he has no reason to hesitate. Will cut down anyone in his way. Will never let one of the kids get hurt because he didn't want to fight a friend.
Qrow does his best to be cold to the Ace Ops. Ignores their attempts at casual conversation. Resists the temptation to give up a façade he's spent his life building in exchange for a faint hope of happiness.
It's Ruby who changes his mind.
She tells him about Weiss and how happy they are until he's thoroughly sick of hearing about it, no matter how much he's proud of the girl and how satisfyingly furious it makes Winter. And Ruby blossoms. She understands her team, and can solve their problems, better than he ever will.
And at some point an old Huntsman with a Semblance that brings constant misfortune is nothing but a liability.
Qrow reluctantly accepts that his nieces have grown beyond his help.
This comes too late to make any difference to how it ends.
Qrow tries to convince himself that in the end Clover was nothing more than a puppet of Atlas. No different from Winter. Just another fool who fell in love with him.
He keeps the pin in the shape of a four-leaf clover. Pushes it into his pocket, brushes off Ruby's questioning, and leaves Atlas before he can be stopped by the guards who believe that he was responsible for the killing.
He is back to his previous existence.
Qrow puts his walls back up. Half-heartedly flirts with the bartender. Assures himself that the kids can handle themselves.
For a moment he had hoped something could be different. That for once he could belong somewhere. With someone.
But people like him don't get happy endings.