Way Off Track

Twenty-Third Shadow

This routine was frighteningly easy to fall into, and Clover could not be happier. He would wake up to Qrow's irritated, yet wry smile, put on a pot of coffee while the elder got ready, then wash up while Qrow made some quick breakfast and lunch. "I'm used to doing it for the kiddos," he explained when Clover gawped at his perfectly-packed lunches, prepared just in the short amount of time it took for him to shower and shave. "What, did you want me to make them Mistral-style? Cute hearts in your lunchbox, is that it?"

Their banter was always light, and their morning was always complete with a phone call from Qrow to his nieces to check in with them. Ruby, a sweet-sounding, bubbly creature, was the one who answered the phone more often than not, with her older sister frequently finding herself hungover beyond belief. "I take afternoon classes for a reason, Qrow," Clover could hear the elder niece call angrily one morning. "Let me sleep."

The commute was always uneventful, but engaging; with Qrow now there to murmur in his ear, Clover had completely forgone any and all podcasts or music, simply relishing in the tales from the elder. Sometimes, he discussed the topics for that day's classes, and other times, he recounted the tales of his nieces and his fellow faculty. Clover was content to listen to it all, finding that he spent more time with his eyes closed, his heart lulled by Qrow's murmured tenor mingling with the creaking and squeaking of the train to turn into the most soothing song he had ever heard it his life. Then, at University Station, Qrow would kiss him goodbye, tease him for his embarrassed reaction, and head out, leaving Clover to bury the thoughts of the elder for the rest of the day until he came back home.

And by nightfall, he would see Qrow's wicked smile, a flash of silver, and he would give himself up happily.

The one damper on the situation was that the mystery of Marrow's younger cousin Blake. No matter when Qrow asked, his nieces maintained that while she was doing alright, Blake was still needing to be hidden away in Qrow's home for as long as possible. Clover wanted to ask more about the situation, but with the professor being so tight-lipped on the matter, there was no point even trying to glean any info from the man.

At least he knew that Qrow was a good man, to offer his home unequivocally like this. Clover had chosen well.

One week passed in its entirety. Being able to go to Crow Bar with the elder, then go home with him, was one of the messiest, yet fulfilling thing he had ever done; while waking up with a terrible hangover half-fallen out of his own bed was never a good thing, there was something so wonderfully pure about being able to suffer through that with Qrow, the other man complaining every second for the rest of the morning until he had gotten some proper food into himself. It was simple, but it was perfect.

The following week, they carried on their tradition of getting takeout, thanks to a recent test the elder had to mark for multiple classes; Clover was more than happy to pick food up along the way, carrying it to the Department of Sociology's building without hesitation. The faces of those who traversed the campus during these hours were growing more and more familiar as time wore on, and Clover found himself actually smiling and nodding at a few passersby whenever he made eye contact. It was still incredible, if he was being honest- he was becoming a part of this campus. The secretary waved when he entered the building, the other faculty nodding his way.

…Vale really is becoming home, isn't it?

As Clover stepped into Qrow's office, the elder's warm, welcoming smile which broke through his snarl of irritation and fatigue underlined that fact. Vale was really becoming his home.

He did not regret leaving Atlas, now more than ever. However, it wasn't because he needed to escape. Not anymore.

Watching Qrow unpack whatever food Clover brought was always an adventure, so Clover contented himself to waiting for the elder to fill up his own plate with mixed vegetables and stir-fried noodles. His eyes wandered out the window while Qrow immediately launched into a quiet, bitter tirade about how students were completely misunderstanding the impacts of the recent gentrification of Mistral's outskirts; the sound of Qrow's passionate rambling had become the norm to surround himself in, after all.

Outside, the evening was growing quickly darker. Students shared greetings and goodbyes as they continued on their way home, and professors bustled about with large bags and carts filled with books and papers. It was the ordinary scene.

However, one silhouette did not move, even as Qrow finished grabbing his food and began making a plate for Clover. At first, Clover paid it no mind- there were plenty of people hanging around that seemed to be waiting for someone. As Clover began to focus upon the dark figure standing a hundred feet away from the building, located firmly between the nearest two lecture halls and the Department of Sociology, he realized just how familiar this silhouette was. Isn't that the same kid who was there last week? he thought, raising his brow at the plume of smoke which rose out from underneath the young man's hood. Maybe he just lives on campus. Could be waiting for someone.

He didn't get a chance to spare a thought on the strange, solitary figure, though, for Qrow had decided to begin throwing peas at him to get his attention. Raising a brow, he immediately turned, ready to engage with the elder who clearly needed a distraction from his marking woes. And later, any thought of strangeness on Beacon's campus quickly evaporated by the time they went home, for Qrow had decided to take out his frustrations in a decidedly physical way.

Clover was not going to need to go to the gym while Qrow was staying over, he realized as he brushed his teeth that night. He had never been more contented yet exhausted in his life.

So, life carried on. That Friday, Qrow offered to take him someplace other than Crow Bar as thanks for allowing their cohabitation to continue, so Clover was cheery for most of the day, finding it easy to reach out to each of his employees for a one-on-one check-in. The main trio who worked in their cubicles were doing fine, as it turned out- Harriet had recently gotten into kickboxing, Vine was taking on another class at his yoga studio, and Elm was excited to be dragged along for one of her niece's school camping trips as a chaperone, so she would be requesting leave within a few weeks.

The check-in which was lingering at the back of his mind as a priority was Marrow's, thanks to his connection to the young man's cousin. Thankfully, Marrow was doing far better than before, the light in his eyes and the rested alertness in his manner evident. "Blake's doing well, Auntie Kali and Uncle Ghira aren't always calling me anymore to see how she's doing… life's great!" Longingly, Marrow added, "I hope she can stay with her friends until this all blows over. That ex of hers needs to calm down."

"An… ex?" Clover asked, confused. This was the first he had properly heard about what was going on with the young woman for whom Qrow had given his home up to his nieces.

Freezing in place, panic filled Marrow's face as he frantically searched for a way to backpedal from what he said. "I- I mean-" Quickly giving up, he sighed, explaining quietly so the others wouldn't hear, "He was a scumbag. She dumped him, he wouldn't take no, he started following her around, and… well, I'm glad he never knew I existed!"

Well that… was not what I was expecting. Discomfort was all that could properly remain in anyone's heart after hearing such a thing, and despite all of his professional, calculated demeanor, even Clover couldn't help but reach out and clasp Marrow's shoulder. "Good on you. Check in on her once in a while, okay?" After a moment, he added, "But let her take her time. Being with her friends probably is comforting." And that means Qrow can stay with me longer, his traitorous mind threw in.

The thought of an ex-boyfriend being the cause of all of this heartache was a little baffling, and yet, Clover felt kindred to the young woman he had only seen briefly. Although he hadn't gone through something so vile- in fact, his boyfriend hadn't wanted anything to do with him after Robyn had leaked the truth about their relationship- Clover could still easily understand the sentiment of betrayal, if nothing else.

Perhaps that was why he sent Qrow an innocent text that afternoon before his meeting with a potential client. 'How are the girls doing? Is their friend okay?' It was done purely on instinct, with no real motives behind it; he had just spent his lunch break stewing on the situation and needed to get his feelings out somewhere.

Qrow's grateful smile, his simple explanation of the facts now that Clover knew the truth, his quiet, "Thanks for checking in, boy scout," when they met up after work that day, were all a little stunning. He had never thought that those bitter memories would be ever of any use, but as Qrow drunkenly fell asleep on his shoulder that night on the way home, he found that he felt lighter despite the weight he had been carrying around for so long.

It was nice, just worrying about carrying Qrow home rather than all of Clover's baggage. He was happy.