Cameo Lover

Everything Changes

The world changed before he could even blink, and no matter how much he kept his cool and pasted that smile on his face and issued orders, Clover couldn't catch his breath. Not with that sinking feeling in his chest lingering, constricting his lungs, holding tight onto his heart. Not with the anxiety that was inexplicably welling up within him, never going away no matter how confident and self-assured he seemed to the rest of the world.

He had never truly felt this way before. Why would he have? His Semblance always assured that everything would turn out alright, no matter what. There was no point in ever feeling this level of fear and worry.

But here he was, drowning in dread that threatened to consume him endlessly as the truth spilled out from everyone, and it was suddenly his job to make sure everything went to plan.

So, he made sure it did. They defeated the Grimm. They prevented the number of casualties from rising. They had already gotten Jacques Schnee in questioning, and all they needed to do was get rid of Tyrian Callows. Robyn Hill of all people would be helping them, but he knew he'd make it work.

And work, it did. Tyrian was in cuffs and on their prisoner transport ship before they knew it. Everything was going fine- his team had checked in with James earlier, meaning they had finished up their own respective missions, so he needed to revise what else needed to be done.

He wasn't surprised, though, looking across the small hold of the transport ship at the man seated just a few feet across the way. There had been no doubt it would go well.

After all, Qrow was with him.

…After all, Qrow was with him.

Qrow was with him, right?

…But… why?

"Ironwood's declaring martial law and abandoning Mantle!" Ruby's voice screamed, tinny and desperate from Qrow's Scroll, broadcast across her team's general communication line. "Salem's coming and he's going to use the Staff to move Atlas. If we don't stop him Mantle's going to be-"

Her transmission was abruptly cut off, leaving Robyn furious, the woman representing Mantle's people glaring at him, demanding answers. Clover barely noticed, registering her anger then shelving it away.

Qrow looked like he was going to cry, his eyes wide and vulnerable and begging for it to be a lie. It's not true, he seemed to be pleading, it has to be a joke- James is an ass but not that much of an idiot- what's going on with Ruby, why did the line get cut, you have to-

Clover wanted to crumble.

James, he thought, will have the answers.

So, he furrowed his brow, silently gripping onto his Scroll and opening up his own direct line from James. He could practically feel Tyrian's slithering eyes running gleefully across his profile, and had half a mind to use Kingfisher to knock the Faunus out again-

But then Qrow made that little sound in his throat, eyes still pleading for an explanation from Clover, and his mask of calm, self-assured reason almost slipped. Robyn hotly demanded an explanation, which he avoided with ease, but when his Scroll beeped again with urgent info and he opened the screen, that sinking feeling in his chest- that premonition, that fear- was finally realized.

Wanted fugitives. He had grown to cherish all the young, innocent faces listed underneath that sign. The one that mattered most to him, however, was staring at him in shock still.

He had to bring Qrow Branwen in.

Qrow and James are not on the same side.

Clover stood, approaching Qrow slowly, thinking back to his first days at Atlas Academy all those years ago. Back then, he had been terrible on parade. He had almost fainted his first day on the parade square, not used to standing still and upright for so long. He had long since learned the trick to staying upright when the whole world was crashing down- bend your knees, wiggle your toes in your boots, regulate your breathing.

Nothing was working. Nothing could possibly work well enough to make the words passing through his lips, a direct order from James, any easier- not when Qrow's hand so easily fell onto the hilt of Harbinger, doubt and mistrust clouding beautiful red eyes without a second's hesitation, that voice Clover had learned to worship over the past months whispering his name in all the wrong tones.

"Qrow, you should know that I've been asked to bring you in."

Qrow barely reacted, the hurt in his eyes just as clear as ever.

"There's… also an alert out for Team RWBY's arrest."

That got the older man moving, his pain quickly replaced by outrage. "What? Has James lost his mind?!"

Clover blanked out after that as Robyn began to speak, all of it fading into white noise as Clover's eyes fixated upon the only thing that mattered. Qrow. Then Robyn began to attack, and he fought her off effortlessly, only truly raising Kingfisher when Harbinger's blade came straight for him.

The last time he had been faced with that blade had been less than twenty-four hours earlier in the training hall. He and Qrow had laughed. He'd held Qrow's hand for a moment. Qrow hadn't pulled away, not until Ruby had shown up.

How had it all changed so quickly?

"I wish it hadn't come to this," he murmured.

"It doesn't have to!" Qrow yelled.

But Robyn intervened, and Tyrian somehow broke free- the airship crashed- the snow, the pain, the darkness was everywhere- they were far on the outskirts of Mantle, they had to be, but why-

Why was Qrow's scythe unfurled already? Clover had seen so many expressions play on that man's face, but never had hatred ever been worn so plainly before, nor had there ever been so much betrayal.

"Never pegged you for the manipulative type, but I've learned a lot of things tonight." Qrow's voice was coarse and rough. Anyone else would've blamed it on the long night, the accident, everything. Clover knew better. He had heard that hoarseness multiple times.

In the mess hall on moonlit nights.

Under starry skies on the roof, tea in hand, blankets around shoulders.

Upon walkways and in offices and tucked into armchairs, those painfully-wide bright crimson eyes, glassy and always scared of shattering, had bored holes into Clover's heart, digging in deep.

"I enjoyed working with you, y'know. Even with that endless cynicism of yours." The smile on Clover's face meant nothing.

"I'm usually proven right." Qrow's hurt was unflinching, steadfast.

"We don't have to fight, friend."

Please. I don't want to hurt you. Please, Qrow.

The word 'friend' was bitter on his tongue. Qrow wasn't his friend. Qrow had always been something far different to him.

"You don't know my friends. That's how it always goes."

And Qrow meant it.

Clover sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, steeling his resolve. I guess I'm not that lucky after all.

Qrow wasn't the first person he'd ever lost. He wouldn't be the last.

I don't want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to see you smile at me, too.

His hands were cold around the guard of Kingfisher. "…okay."