A/N: Only three more chapters left! I'm still having quite a bit of fun with this story- it's nice to write amidst all the craziness right now.

Quiet

There was a small table carrying a chessboard set up at the side of James' office, tucked out of immediate view from the door. After the Fall of Beacon, James had set it up and left it there, occasionally playing with Clover and Winter when they discussed strategy. Clover had never thought much of it- but now, all he could listen to was the shaking of wooden pieces on the board as Qrow stormed around the room, each footfall leading to James' desk carrying the weight of the world.

"James, this is absolute bullshit," Qrow hissed, slamming his hands down onto the desk. "You're telling me that you're actually considering martial law?!"

"Qrow, I know it's not ideal-" James attempted, holding his hands up peacefully.

"Like fucking hell it's 'not ideal'- are you out of your goddamned mind?!" To illustrate his rage, Qrow walked over and kicked the table, toppling the board and sending the pieces flying everywhere.

James jumped to his feet. "That's Oz's set-"

"Fuck Oz!" Qrow cried, his voice cracking so jarringly that James stilled, confusion and consternation growing in his face.

"What," James breathed, eyes wide and horrified, "do you mean by that, Qrow?"

Qrow snorted, ignored the chess pieces rolling across the floor around him. "You don't deserve to know."

Winter immediately straightened up, barking out, "Qrow!"

James stopped her before she could walk around the table to Qrow, the man groaning and slumping over in his chair. "…I know, Qrow," he murmured wearily. "Look- it's not the best option. We have to stay focused and find the culprits. We have to. For everyone's sake."

Qrow rolled his eyes, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists. "We know the culprits," he hissed. "It was Tyrian Callows. If Ruby says it was him, then I believe her. We fought him on Anima- he's working for Salem, and if you don't get that through your fat, egotistical head-"

"Watch your tongue!" Winter cried, hands dropping to the hilt of her blade.

Clover instinctively stepped forward. Never had he seen Winter Schnee lose her cool like this, although he had heard rumours of her longstanding feud with Qrow.

The reaction from Qrow to Winter's hostile warning was worrisome, the man's eyes glaring with such barely-restrained anger that it unsettled even Clover. He knew that Qrow was an ally- an incredible one, at that- but seeing the divide so easily sparked up between him and James sent uneasy stirrings in his gut.

If James actually declared martial law in order to protect Mantle from the monsters who had framed Penny, the Clover would obey. Clover would always obey the general.

But would Qrow?

Calmly, Clover placed a hand on Qrow's shoulder, squeezing tense muscle with a gentle touch. "Qrow," he murmured, "we need to take it step by step. There's no point in turning on one another."

After a moment, Qrow sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets and spinning on his heel. "Whatever, Jimmy," Qrow spat, so uncharacteristically bitter that Clover almost recoiled as the elder stalked out of James' office.

Once the door slammed shut behind Qrow, James merely sighed, burying his face in his hands. "I don't want to fight him," the man whispered, a surprising amount of frailty and weakness in his voice.

Clover glanced up at Winter, the woman's eyes flashing in surprise at the general's vulnerability. He nodded towards James. Look after him. I'll go to Qrow, he mouthed.

The woman nodded, lips pressed into a grim line as Clover stood at attention, then headed after Qrow.

Clover's first instinct was to search all of the usual suspects- the training room, the mess hall, the officers' barracks. He wasn't on the rooftop, nor was he with Ruby or Yang. As he searched, he ran into Vine and Elm, the two returning from a mission briefly to eat before heading out on another one soon after. They were able to point him in the direction of the walkway just outside of the school, having seen Qrow leaving the building but not heading towards the docks to get down to Mantle. With a murmur of thanks, Clover jogged down to the entrance of Atlas Academy, praying to find a fluttering red cape or grey-streaked, dark hair.

Find it, he did. Sitting slumped over on a bench along the wooded walkway where he had wandered with Qrow after their first mission together was the elder Huntsman himself, leaning his elbows onto his knees and clasping his hands together. Fingers fidgeted with the numerous rings adorning each digit, his lower lip tugged between his teeth as he chewed worriedly. That perpetual crease in his brow lingered, anger and apprehension straining his expression.

Clover softened, watching him from a distance. Qrow had been riled up all through their morning mission- he had been getting more and more easily agitated as of late. No wonder he had blown up at James the moment they had returned after seeing the sorry state of Mantle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a vending machine set in the corner of the path. Jogging over, he quickly bought two cans of coffee and wandered over. "So, what brings you here?" he said, maintaining his neutral smile to hide away his concern.

Qrow barely reacted to him, pushing away the offered coffee can. "Shut up, Clover," he growled. "I'm not here to make nice to your boss."

"He's your boss right now, too, y'know," Clover mused, taking a seat beside him.

The glare Qrow sent him was absolutely scathing. "James Ironwood is not my leader," he spat. "He'll never be what Oz-" Suddenly, he froze, the words dying on his lips. Just as quickly as the anger had flared up, disappointed resignation took over, and the elder slumped further down into the bench, head almost hanging between his knees.

Clover's heart sank at those words. …If something happens, he might not follow the general. He would never admit it, but the thought of crossing blades with Qrow as an enemy made him dizzy.

Drawing in a shaky breath, he reached down and grabbed Qrow's hands, pressing the can into them. "Drink it. You look like you need it."

Wearily, Qrow read the label. "Coffee?"

"I just figured the old grumpy man needed something a little sweet to perk him up," Clover offered, trying to lighten the mood.

Qrow groaned, but a small, rueful smile grew begrudgingly on his lips. "Okay, I know all of you are young, but old? C'mon."

Clover laughed, patting Qrow on the shoulder lightly. "It's a joke," he said reassuringly. "It doesn't matter- either way, you've aged well."

They both froze, Clover's hand freezing on Qrow's shoulder as the compliment lingered in the air, the heat emanating from the man's shoulder painfully alluring against the eternal chill in Clover's hands.

Finally, Qrow cleared his throat and opened the can, leaning back and gulping down half the contents. "This whole thing is bullshit," he muttered after a while, staring at the sky.

Clover didn't touch his coffee, his eyes lingering on the pink flush in Qrow's face.

Qrow continued gruffly, "James needs to see it. Something is trying to divide us, trying to make us betray one another." He sighed, pushing his bangs back off his face, his sculpted features chiselled in their mourning. "I… I don't want to have to fight allies again."

Without thinking, Clover murmured, "Good thing we're on the same side, right?"

He wasn't expected the bitterness in Qrow's smile as the man's lips trembled, clearly unable to agree.

Clover leaned back against the bench, looking up into the sky. He didn't know what to say to reassure Qrow. So, he simply scooted closer on the bench, pressing his side against Qrow's, holding his breath in fear until the other man relaxed and leaned into him slightly, too.