He dove into the clearing, then winged his way over to a branch at the edge of the forest. It wasn't his best flying, but today, of all days, he couldn't care less. His mind was a shifting, angry white haze that left him drained yet unable to rest.

Shaking his head, he hopped off the branch and shifted back in midair, a maneuver he'd performed countless times. Today, though, that familiar disorientation and pins-and-needles sensation were enough to make him stumble, bringing him to his knees.

Just my luck, some part of his brain thought before laughing wildly.

He gritted his teeth and got to his feet, putting one hand against the tree for stability, then looked up at the house in front of him. The light in the living room was on, as was the one in the girls' room upstairs, despite being well past what most people would call "evening". The sky had almost darkened to a full night's black, stars shining past the wispy clouds.

By now Oz or someone would have given Tai the news. Strictly speaking, Qrow didn't have to be here. But…

He stood there for what felt like hours, unable to move forward. Unable to step up to the door, and knock, and tell his last remaining teammate that Summer was never was coming back. But as he stood there, the door swung open anyway, and from thirty feet away he saw Tai's silhouette slowly lift a hand.

Qrow squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and trudged up to the house. Tai's features came into focus: a stiff face with downturned mouth, shoulders bent in with mental pressure, hair a mess, hands shaking slightly. He looked how Qrow felt.

For a moment the two men just stood there looking at each other, feeling the awful truth in the air around them. Then Qrow collapsed forward, throwing his arms around the other man's body with his fists held tight against Tai's back. Summer had always been the strong one; Summer had always put herself out there for her team. Summer had always known what to do, and right now Qrow didn't know what to do. He knew that it was supposed to be him comforting Tai, and he could feel Tai's own desperation, but right now the white haze had taken over.

"It's true, then," Tai said in a low, cracked voice.

The words brushed past, but the tone of voice penetrated the blank of Qrow's conscious thoughts to set off alarm bells at the back of his mind. It was the voice of a Tai on the edge of going nearly non-verbal again, the echo of pain and loss from years ago. Only this time there was no solace, however small, in at least she's still out there; at least she's still alive.

"I couldn't save her," Qrow said. It was supposed to be an anguished cry, but his voice came out barely above a whisper. "I couldn't save her, Tai."

And for a while the two men just stood there in their misery, neither able to offer comfort to the other.

Eventually they made it to the couch, slumping down side by side and staring at the floor. It was a few moments before either of them moved, then Tai raised his head to glance at his former teammate. "You want a drink?"

By habit Qrow opened his mouth to say yes, but the thought suddenly made his stomach churn uncomfortably. "No," he rasped instead. "Not tonight."

Tai nodded and made no move to get up.

"You're not either?" Qrow asked.

Tai grimaced bitterly. "Trust me, I want one. But I need to take the girls to school tomorrow."

"Oh." Right.

There was a pause, and then Tai continued, raising his voice noticeably. "And speaking of the girls…"

Qrow heard a tiny gasp, and twisted in his seat to see Yang peering out from the top of the staircase wearing her dragon pajamas. Just behind her was tiny Ruby in her puppy onesie, holding on tightly to her sister's hand.

"It's past your bedtime," Tai called, and Qrow was surprised by how normal he was able to make it sound, how Tai still clung to the responsibility of being a father even in his suffering.

Yang wrapped her free hand around the top bannister, and Qrow saw the expression on her face. She looked like she was about to cry. "It's true, then?" she asked, in what sounded like as brave a voice as the little girl could manage.

Those words, the same as her father's, threatened to put Qrow over the edge again. Tai also looked stunned; he opened his mouth and then closed it without saying anything.

Qrow knew that Tai's first inclination was to protect his daughters from harmful information. The three of them had been careful not to tell the girls how dangerous it was being an active Hunter, mainly by avoiding any details about missions while in the Rose - Xiao Long home. Raven's name was also a forbidden word. But there was no way to paper over this, no casual adult omission or parental evasion. And Yang, young as she was, was a smart enough kid to guess what that moment of hesitation signified, though what the girl had figured out already Qrow couldn't be certain.

"We'll talk about it in the morning," Tai said eventually, a little bit of defeat slipping into his voice. "Please go back to bed."

"But—"

"Go to bed, Yang," Tai interrupted forcefully, half-standing up from the couch. Ruby squeaked in surprise, shrinking further behind her sister. Yang pulled back a little too, but her hand was still on the bannister. The expression on her face made it clear that she was obeying, not agreeing.

Seeing this, Tai sighed. "I don't want you to hear the next part," he said, and now he was back to that tone of defeat.

Yang looked like she was about to protest again, then her eyes widened. A tiny part of Qrow's heart that hadn't already been given over to despair joined the rest, seeing how the girl was being forced all of a sudden to grow up.

"Come on, Ruby," said Yang, and the two of them disappeared back up the staircase. Silence fell over the living room once more.

"Big sister to the end," Qrow said inanely, looking at his former teammate.

Tai lowered himself back into the couch, then pressed his hands against his face. "I don't know if I can, I don't know if I can…" he muttered to himself, and again Qrow was struck with a combined sense of helplessness and self-loathing, because this was the part where he reached out and told Tai he'd make it through, that they were going to be okay, but they weren't.

Instead he reached into his pack and pulled out a crumpled parcel, white and reddish-brown. He held it out and after a moment Tai took it, shaking it out.

Summer's cloak.

Tai's eyes began to pool with tears, and he handed the cloak back to Qrow. "I have to know," he said hoarsely. "How did it happen."

The images burst back into Qrow's mind, and his breath caught. He took a slow breath and began folding up the cloak again. "I was scouting. Looking for the alpha, or anything that might be a lair. Summer was back at the village." Bright blue sky. Open plains. "It was maybe 2 in the afternoon."

He could feel Tai's disbelief, the sense of who cares what time it was, and plowed on. "She called me. They'd spotted them coming from the east, when I had gone southwest. I flew back as fast as I could." He set the cloak down on the coffee table.

Smoke rising. Buildings, collapsed. And—

"They had burrowed under the town, Tai." The white haze was burning hot again. "Grimm don't do that on their own, not across packs. It had to be her influence."

Tai's mouth was a thin, hard line. He was the only one of the four of them who had never quite accepted Ozpin's stories, never quite seen the coordination in their monstrous foes that indicated the hand of a master. But he would also never contradict Summer, and Summer knew that that master was real.

"The town was evacuating," Qrow continued. "What else could they do? And Summer…was buying time."

A dot of white whirling through the black, even as people poured out the other end of the village. He beat his wings harder, harder…he had to make it…

The anger disappeared, leaving despair in its place.

"And then she stumbled."

The dot was eclipsed. For a moment he thought all was lost. Two moments. Three.

Then a tattered white streak appeared.

Qrow looked at Tai. The other man's eyes were streaming with silent tears now, and at the sight Qrow felt his own weakly-held composure slipping away. "We all talk about one unlucky hit," he went on raggedly. "But you and I both know that's not what it's really like, most of the time. She kept getting back up."

She kept getting knocked down. Again. And again.

"I couldn't keep them off her," he finished, voice dwindling to almost a whisper. "I tried, but it was like they were drawn to her. I couldn't save her."

Tai was wiping his face over and over. "No, no, no…" he mouthed, shaking his head.

Qrow wished he could cry too, if only to have some kind of physical release. Somewhere growing up he had lost the ability; somewhere in always trying to be the strongest. Now he had no way to let out the guilt and despair that once again threatened to overwhelm him. The white haze beat strongly, a seething madness ready to drag him down.

Unable to bear it, he smashed his hand down on the coffee table next to Summer's cloak. "It's my fault!" he ground out. "I couldn't save her. Hell, I made things worse just by being there. If it weren't for me—" He broke off as he saw Tai's expression, desperate, and…compassionate? "How can you look at me like that?"

Tai was still shaking his head, but the gesture was now deliberate, frantic but firm. "You would have saved her, Qrow. You tried."

"How can you say that?" Qrow cried. "It's my fault!"

Tai shook his head once more and reached out to take Qrow by the shoulders. His hands trembled, and in his face Qrow saw the man who had lost his love before, a man who was losing his love for the second time. And…

"I can't, I can't, I," Tai tried to say.

"It's my fault," Qrow said bitterly, unable to meet Tai's gaze.

"You're all I have."

Qrow jerked upward. Tai's voice was pleading, a last effort to reach out from his own despair.

"You're all I have left, Qrow. You're all I have left."