A/N: Every time I write this fic I just have the song playing in my head and it's such an odd contrast to see how sad this can get versus how peppy that song it- but I guess that's why it works. I always hear it as Clover singing it to Qrow.

Only 4 more chapters left! Tell me your thoughts if you're reading along!

Cameo Lover

Hygge

It was terrifying to think how quickly it all could change.

When all the cleanup was said and done after the massacre at Robyn Hill's 'victory' party, Clover heard the same steps on his rooftop as always; but this time, they were staggered. Slow. Trudging along with such weariness that he could imagine Qrow stumbling, careening over-

The image of Qrow's scars still lingered in his mind. Clover just didn't know what to say to Qrow. He had tried to carry on the way they had before- been flirtatious despite his neutral expression, prayed that the older man would get it, winked and occasionally smiled and always stood by his side…

But something in Qrow had closed off.

Clover understood why. The level of heartbreak that Qrow had clearly felt- it must've been a lighthouse for Grimm when he was younger. Negative emotions were not meant to be carried within the body for prolonged periods of time on Remnant, due to the monsters, physical and mental, that they brought with them. Qrow's past actions were understandable when looked at in that light.

But just viewing the man's trauma in that light was too cold. It was unfeeling and technical. It did nothing to explain the tragedy which was the Semblance of misfortune that haunted Qrow.

Clover didn't need to understand the situation logically- he just wanted Qrow to smile at him again. So, when he heard those telltale footsteps, he shrugged on a hoodie and jogged up the maintenance staircase, a neutral smile on his lips and a wink at the ready, just in case.

Qrow didn't even move to acknowledge him when he walked over, taking a seat beside the lanky man. He was dressed in a jacket and slacks, different from his usual fare. Clover sighed, brushing his shoulder against Qrow's after a minute of pure silence between the two.

Qrow pouted and shrugged, moving away slightly. It was a stab to the heart, but Clover pushed forward. "What's going on, Qrow?"

The shadows underneath Qrow's eyes had worsened since the last time they had spoken, no doubt due to the incident. The man sighed, running his fingers through grey-streaked hair, pushing it out of his eyes. "Ruby's really broken about it all," he murmured at last. Then, he fell silent once more.

"Why's that?" Clover prompted when it seemed like Qrow didn't want to continue.

A bitter smile twisted Qrow's lips. "Her sister got framed for hurting that kid- Mercury Black, one of Salem's lackeys- at the Vytal Festival Tournament. Watching Yang get accused like that did a number on Ruby."

Clover nodded, thinking back to the tournament that had uprooted their entire world. "And soon after, Penny was taken offline, right?" he added.

Qrow snorted, his expression souring slightly. "'Taken offline', that's how Jimmy- James would've liked to put it, maybe," he spat. "Both Penny and Pyrrha, the girl who accidentally killed Penny, were Ruby's friends." With that, the man sighed, climbing to his feet. He seemed unsteady, stumbling slightly.

Clover was on his feet in the blink of an eye, holding Qrow upright, heart sinking. "Qrow… you don't seem to be well," he murmured. "What's going on?"

Have you been drinking? was the unspoken question lingering in the air.

Qrow picked up on it, alarm crossing his face before the frown returned, creasing his brows. "S'not what you think, kid," Qrow barked. "I've been up for two days. Helping you Ace-Ops on the first night…"

"And tonight?"

Qrow's lips trembled. "Ruby wouldn't stop crying. It didn't hit her till tonight, I guess." Clover winced as he saw Qrow bite his lips so hard that flashes of Qrow's red Aura appeared, healing the wounds he was inflicting upon himself before blood could be shed.

Clover let out a haggard breath looking at Qrow's face- whenever that sadness appeared in his eyes, the man always looked so sage, but also impossibly young. He just seemed so vulnerable.

So, he made up his mind. Wordlessly, he placed a hand on Qrow's shoulder and dragged him down the maintenance stairwell. Qrow was genuinely confused as to where they were going, having always flown up to the rooftop to vent his frustrations rather than having taken the stairs. Clover answered none of his questions, however, guiding the man down the hall and into the nearest chambers- his own private quarters.

Once inside, Clover forcefully brought the man into one of the simple armchairs by the large window where Clover watched the sunrise every morning. He pulled out the thickest blankets he had and wrapped them around the man's shoulders, then quickly put on his kettle. His kitchenette wasn't very good- the stove never heated up that well, which is why he always went to the mess hall to get his fix- but it would have to do.

"Clover, what the hell are you-"

But Clover was already bringing over a cup of peppermint for the man in a large mug, pressing it into Qrow's hands. "You're going to drink this, then you're going to sleep," he commanded quietly, leaning against the side of the small dining table by the window. "Here, where I can see you and make sure you're not wandering for the rest of the night."

Qrow bristled, muttering, "Look, pal, I-"

But Clover reached out a hand, pulled it back, then bit his lip and just went for it, cupping Qrow's cheek. The elder man instantly stilled, looking up into Clover's eyes. From where Clover stood, those crimson eyes were unbelievably wide, the confusion and fear hiding behind them so clear that it hurt.

Tentatively, Clover ran his thumb over Qrow's cheek, allowing his neutral smile to soften, his affection to truly shine through. Softly, he murmured, "You're worried about your niece, Qrow. You're a good uncle. You're doing a good job."

Qrow didn't blink, didn't look away- but he could feel how Qrow trembled at those words.

"But," Clover continued, stroking the skin under Qrow's weary eyes, "I'm worried about you. So rest, okay? Things have gotten wilder in Atlas, and we need to figure out what's going on. For Atlas, and for Ruby's sake." With a rueful smile, he added, "I'd like to have you by my side as we do that."

Clover finally pulled his hand away, taking to settling blankets more tightly around Qrow's shoulders to bundle the man up. Qrow didn't fight it, simply sipping on his tea and sinking into the chair, lost in thought.

Clover didn't mind the silence, though. As he fixed himself up a cup of tea and settling into the other chair across the table, all he could do was focus on the unusual heat in his normally-icy hands- not from the tea, but from the sensation of Qrow leaning into his touch instinctively, the involuntarily flash of betrayal in Qrow's eyes when Clover had pulled his hand away etched into the back of his eyelids forever.