Qrow slumped against the wall of the pristine apartment he just broke into. One of his arms held his chest while the other supported him, keeping him sitting up. He knew if he let himself lie down, he would be out like a light, and he didn't want to miss her reaction for the world. Both of his arms were shaking, both from the cold pouring through the slightly cracked window or from the day-long flight he just put himself through. The throbbing ache that ran through his arms and back was enough to take his thoughts away from the events of the past few days, from the failure he knew he was. He reached up to rub his face in an attempt to keep himself awake when he winced at the cut now scabbing over on his jaw. He let out an annoyed groan. Raven had one particular blade (among her many other kinds) that prevented wounds from being healed instantly by aura. This had come in handy when team STRQ was in action. It also made her a dangerous enemy. Qrow closed his eyes for a second and tried to push the thought of his sister away. Instead he let his gleaming red eyes scan the room he was about to be thrown out of (at least that's what he was expecting).
Everything was far more perfect than should be possible. The bed was made with crisp clean sheets that were folded back exactly eight inches. Few personal items were placed on the dust-free night stand where a single lamp lit the room with a warm glow. There was a single chair next to the window and a dresser with a mirror sat across from the bed. The bathroom was equally sterile, with a neatly folded change of clothes resting next to the sink. The room that connected to the other end of the bathroom was small, just enough to fit a two-person couch, a coffee table and a kitchenette in the corner.
Qrow grunted a laugh. He didn't expect anything less from her.
Five more minutes passed before he heard the front door open, close and lock. The bathroom light flipped on and for the next couple minutes, he heard the rusting of clothes. He took this time to steel himself.
The light turned off and he closed his eyes, trying to hide the devious smile threatening to spread across his face. Light footsteps stopped abruptly as they entered the room. His crumpled form stuck out from the rest of the room like sore thumb.
"Qrow!" the stern female voice snapped. Qrow turned to face the woman, putting on his most charming smile.
"Fancy meeting you here, Ice Queen," He said as casually as possible despite his aching body. Winter Schnee gave him her usual death-glare and crossed her arms. "Nice to see your hair down for once," he added. "Makes you seem more human." Winter had changed out of her military clothing and was now wearing a lavender off-the-shoulder top (that fit her not as tight as Qrow would have liked) and light grey pajama pants.
"How in the world did you get in here?" her harsh voice was useless in intimidating him. He was far too used to it by now and was not ashamed to admit he liked it.
"Y'know you should really lock your windows." Qrow motioned with his head at the window. It was only opened a few inches, not nearly enough for a person to fit through.
"I had left it open to air out the room," Winter shot back defensively. "Besides, by regulation it can only open six inches. So either you tell me the truth or I'll force it from you." Her threat would have been frightful enough to any other intruder, but Qrow only gave her a sideways smirk.
"Yeah, it was a real tricky situation, but I managed," he shrugged. Winter's bewilderment spoke to her ignorance of Qrow's ability to shape shift. He made it a point to never let that fact about him slip to just anyone.
"You have thirty seconds to vacate my home," Winter demanded, giving up on getting a proper explanation from him. Qrow shrugged and attempted to stand, but fell back to the floor with an involuntary grunt of pain. Not only were his muscles extremely sore, but Raven's kick to his chest had left more damage than he thought. Judging by the pain, he guessed he had at least one bruised rib. He made a mental note to return the favor the next time he crossed her path.
Winter's frown faltered slightly when she noticed his feeble struggle. Putting that piece of information together with his unannounced appearance, she started to have the feeling something was wrong.
"Qrow," repeated, just a hint of softness woven into her voice this time, "Why are you here?"
Qrow look away, grasping at any excuse he could come up with, but he had none. There was no particular reason he was here specifically. His only goal was to distance himself from the sullen atmosphere that hung heavy over his fractured family. He needed to be there for them, but he wouldn't be much help if he had stayed. Leaving was the only way to get his head straight. But why here? Of all the places he could have gone, he went on an impulse to the one person who would treat him no different than if he had gone to Raven (heaven forbid).
No. Winter fought with him constantly and both of them had given the other some minor cuts and bruises, but her dislike for him wasn't malicious like Raven's. In some twisted way, Qrow found it all endearing. Whether Winter saw it the same way was a mystery, but Qrow could at least tell she had no real intention of malevolence. Their intolerance of each other was just at a surface-level. The deep-rooted hate he felt from Raven wasn't reflected in Winter's harsh remarks and actions. At least he didn't think so.
He opened his mouth to make one of his signature witty replies, until an unwarranted image of Summer flashed in his mind. His cocky grin slowly lost its charm and he let out a breath in defeat. He looked down at his weapon that he had set next to him when he came in, but he didn't answer her. Where did he begin to explain? Fishing through his increasingly hazy thoughts, the truly unexpected happened.
Winter sat cross-legged quietly in front of him, her knee touching his. He looked up wide-eyed at her. He expected her to raise her voice at him or hit him, but she just met his gaze with level patience. She knew a broken soul when she saw one, the last thing he needed was another enemy. The General had shown her the same patience when she first came to him, having renounced her father and her title as heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. She was hurt and broken, but he was there to help her put the pieces back together and gave her purpose.
A minute of silence ticked past before Qrow heaved a heavy sigh, absently tracing the pattern on Harbinger's blade with a finger. "Summer's dead," he said in a flat voice.
Winter paused, recalling what Qrow had told her of his teammates and difficult family ties the first time they had met. She remembered the wild grin he wore every time he had spoken about Summer and the adventures he shared with her and Tai.
She placed a hand on his knee, looking down out of respect. She noticed his fists tightening, knuckles turning white as his hands shook slightly form rage.
"And it's my fault," his words filtered through gritted teeth now, a twisted scowl fixed on his face.
"That can't really be true," Winter said. Her voice wasn't as soft as before, some of her usual abrasive tones returning. His crimson eyes flicked up to her face, piercing her skeptical gaze through jet black bangs.
His defensive façade fell and he looked away, his expression a mixture of hurt and confusion. "I couldn't save her in time," his voice was uncharacteristically quiet. His fists relaxed only slightly. Winter had never seen him like this and was at a loss on how to address him. She would usually have thrown some mildly offensive jab at him, but if she did that now, she was sure it would put their odd friendship in critical condition. She wasn't prepared to face what his true rage looked like any time soon.
Instead, she pursed her lips before daring to ask the next logical question.
"What happened?"
Qrow clenched his jaw before giving her a brief explanation. His sentences were short with as little description as possible. She could tell he was trying desperately to keep his voice from wavering. When he had finished, she offered him her condolences with a silent nod.
She waited for him to even out his breathing before speaking again. "So what happened with your jaw? Was that from the Grimm?"
He shook his head. "My wonderful and loving sister dropped in for a visit before I left." Sarcasm dripped from every word and his frown returned.
Winter stood suddenly, smoothing out her pants. Sulking wasn't going to make anything better, she concluded. She took it upon herself to get him back on his feet, figuratively and literally. Qrow jumped in surprise at the abrupt motion, half expecting her to add another nick to his face, but she walked into the bathroom, his confused eyes following her.
"Wait there," her terse voice echoed slightly off the bathroom tile. "And take your shirt off."
Qrow knew she intended to help him tend to his injuries, but he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
"At least buy me a drink first, Ice Queen," he called, humor finding its way back into his features. He couldn't help but smile when he heard an exasperated sigh from the other room. He proceeded to unbutton his shirt and throw it unceremoniously in a pile next to him. Looking down, he could see a few large bruises beginning to take shape over his ribcage.
Winter returned with first-aid supplies in her hands, setting them on the bed. She sat on the edge and pointed to the spot next to her, silently ordering him to join her. He huffed and rolled his eyes before slowly hoisting himself off the floor.
He sat heavily, knocking over the bottle of disinfectant. "You're lucky it wasn't open," Winter grumbled. Qrow smiled at the irony. Luck was never one for favoring him, even if it wanted to.
He was relieved that their dynamic was settling back to where it usually found itself. Though, he mused, gentle Winter wasn't so bad either. He studied her face carefully while she focused on preparing a cloth with disinfectant. Her features were set with stern concentration, her porcelain cheeks lightly dusted pink. Despite her eyes being an icy blue, he found them warm and almost mesmerizing. Her snow white bangs were swept to the side as usual, but what really fascinated him was her long hair cascading in gentle curls over her shoulder. He was used to seeing her with a tight bun centered perfectly on her head, so he made it imperative that he remembered what she looked like when the bun was let free.
When she looked up at him and noticed he was staring, she glared, to which he offered an innocent grin.
"Just sit still," she mumbled, holding his chin in place with one hand. He winced when she brought the cloth to his cut with her other hand, but he dared not move away. It probably wasn't wise to disobey her at this particular moment, he decided. Instead he clenched his jaw and took the singing pain like the huntsman he was. Once Winter was proud with her work, she carefully smoothed a bandage over the wound. She patted it once for good measure and Qrow flinched, turning to glare at her. She pretended to not pay attention as she put the cap back on the disinfectant. He put a hand over the bandage, inspecting her work critically.
"Damn it," he groaned mournfully. Winter looked up with genuine concern. "This is gonna be a bitch to take off." He caressed the hairs on his chin with an exaggerated pout. Winter's concerned face fell back into a frown, rolling her eyes for extra effect.
"That is not my problem," she said, her chin lifting indignantly.
Qrow dropped his teasing attitude with a sigh, rubbing his face with his hands tiredly. He kept his face held in his hands as he leaned to support it with his elbows, taking in the comfortable silence. He heard Winter place her supplies on the table next to the bed, then settle back next to him. He could feel her eyes scrutinizing the bruises on his ribs and wondered if she would be next in line to give his sister a piece of her mind. After she decided that there was nothing more to do, she settled further on the bed. Qrow stayed put, his head in his hand as his mind slowly drifted toward sleep.
A second later, though, his head shot up a few inches, his eyes widening. Winter was pensively tracing a finger between his shoulder blades.
"Your insignia," She noted. Among the many scars etched on his back, he had a tattoo of his personal insignia just below the base of his neck. Qrow gathered that the tattoo was all that held her attention, which, to be fair, wasn't outlandish. Even so, the gesture surprised him thoroughly. Winter had been showing a gentler side of herself tonight, but that didn't make it any less shocking.
Pretty soon, Qrow relaxed under her touch and closed his eyes. His mind's eye followed her finger as she traced the shape of a wing, then the two gears that were set within it. What he didn't expect her to run over next was the scar that split the image in two diagonally.
"What was…" her words trailed off, but he knew the question was coming. He let out a deep breath before responding.
"In my tribe, we each were given our own symbols. It tells others who you are, and that you're a part of the 'family'," Qrow explained, his voice telling her that this wasn't the first time someone had asked him about it. "It's a brand," He added darkly. "And when you abandon the tribe, they hunt you down and leave you with a mark so you can never be accepted back in. Marring your brand is their way of severing your ties with them."
Winter's hand stilled when she heard all of what he had to say.
"I'm sorry."
"It's who I am." Qrow stood, a hand subconsciously grabbing his bruised side.
"Are you leaving?" she asked softly. Qrow didn't answer, he only moved toward his shirt on the floor. Winter was about to let him go, but seeing him so tired and broken, she changed her mind. She set her jaw with determination and stood.
He froze when she grabbed his wrist. He gave an experimental tug to see if she would let go, but her grip was firm and it didn't help that her feet were planted resolutely on the floor. Annoyance flickered somewhere in his chest.
"Winter-"
"No." Her voice came out a bit louder than she intended, but it did the job of getting his attention because he turned to face her, narrowing his red eyes. "You came here for a reason, whatever it may have been, but now you are going to stay. You would be crazy to assume I would let you out there when you can hardly keep your eyes open!"
Qrow remained where he stood as she squared herself in front of him, his gaze still defiant.
"Please," she added in a small voice. His garnet eyes searched her face for weakness in her resolve. When he didn't find any, he wasn't surprised. Not only was she a highly skilled special operative for the Atlesian military, but she was a Schnee. Discipline and stubbornness was woven into her very soul.
He could feel her steady breath now and he was sure his labored and alcohol-ridden breath was reaching her as well. They were in a stand-off now, pale blue eyes meeting red, and only one of them would end up getting their way.
His brow furrowed a fraction. He could have sworn her eyes strayed for just a split second. It was then that he noticed that she was holding her breath and her ears were turning just the slightest shade of red. So she felt it too, huh?
There were plenty of times in the past when they ended up in a similar situation: their eyes meeting in an intense glare, their faces only inches apart. These instances normally took place in either General Ironwood's office or Ozpin's, where the aforementioned men would break up the silent altercation. They never got along well in public, and they hadn't had the chance or the desire to see how they would act if it was just the two of them.
But now there was no one to diffuse the moment. They could finally see how their staring contests would play out naturally. Qrow was only a little hesitant to find out, and he was sure Winter was, too.
The gnawing impulse he hadn't noticed was there became impossible to ignore. He quickly weighed his options and figured he could take whatever she threw at him next before submitting to it completely.
He said a quick prayer to the two gods before he grabbed her face and pulled her closer. Winter took a sharp breath in when their lips crashed together rather unceremoniously. He was ready for a punch to the gut or a slap in the face, his muscles tensed in case he needed to book it out of the room. He even thought it was worth the risk of letting her witness first hand him changing into a crow mid-jump. Every horrible thing she could do to him crossed his mind, but he wasn't prepared for what she was actually doing.
No, he certainly didn't account for this.
Her eyes had closed and her hands were resting on his still bare chest. She had tilted her head to get a better angle and lean into him closer. He broke away from her then, their mouths only an inch or so apart still, and gave her an incredulous look. Her eyes opened just enough to evenly meet his gaze. He had no idea what the universe was playing at, but luck was most certainly on his side tonight and he wanted to see how far he could push it.
Before he could do anything, Winter stood on her toes and leaned back into him, their lips meeting softer this time. She wrapped her arms around his neck while letting one of his hands rest on her lower back. He pulled her closer so that their whole bodies were flush together. His other hand remained on her face gently, a thumb running over her cheek bone.
She took a short breath when his tongue brushed over her lips, parting them. He felt her tense for a second and he started to pull away, not wanting her to get too uncomfortable. Her arms locked his neck in place in quiet insistence for him to continue. He cautiously ran his tongue across the inside of her lip, aware of any reaction she might offer him. When she didn't make any sign of protest, he dared to push past her tongue, tilting her head even more so he could kiss her deeply.
She began to push him backward, the backs of his knees eventually hitting the edge of the bed. He adjusted his hold on her and sat down, encouraging her to straddle his hips. Her face was higher than his now, which she took advantage of by holding his head with both hands and leaning down to kiss him even deeper.
He winced inwardly as his back began to ache more. He had ignored his body's protests to this point, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could sit up unsupported before he gave out. He decided to snake an arm around her waist while his other hand held her lower thigh just behind her knee. His muscles screamed as he swung her onto her back, her head resting on one of her pillows.
He kicked off his shoes before settling over her. One of her legs hooked over his hips and she put pressure on his back so he could rest his weight against her own hips. He gratefully leaned onto her, supporting himself with his forearms on either side of her head. Once he determined that she was comfortable with the new position, he ran a hand down her side, committing her curves to memory. His thumb brushed exposed skin below her navel. She was impossibly soft and warm and he wanted more.
His palm replaced where his thumb was and he slowly moved upward, his senses taking in every new inch of skin. His fingertips barely brushed past the bottom of her ribcage when she tensed, drawing a breath in. He broke away from their kiss and pulled his hand away.
"Sorry," he breathed. She shook her head.
"It's fine, I just…" she bit her lip and looked away. "You aren't the only one with scars." His eyes widened a fraction in a silent question. She let out a shaky breath, keeping her eyes from meeting his. "My father." She looked at him now; his brow had knit into a deep frown. "I would rather not talk about it," she said in the smallest voice he had ever heard from her. He closed his eyes and gently rested his forehead against hers. The offending hand quickly found its way back to her face, slight pressure reassuring her tense features.
His lips moved to brush against her jaw line. He planted a soft kiss, and then nuzzled his face against hers.
"Sorry," he repeated, barely audible. Her grateful arms wrapped around his chest and she leaned into the gesture. He continued to lay kisses down her jaw and her neck. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when he pressed his lips to her throat. She hated being vulnerable, but something about him brought her guard down, allowing her to enjoy his touch.
Confidence returned to her and she brushed her finger tips down his torso. His lips returned to hers with new found fervor. She let a small hum resonate in her throat, which he returned with a deep grunt. Her fingers slid under his waistband with new purpose. She intended to go further, but one of his had shot down, holding her wrist in place. He looked down at her with a glare that warned her to go no further. She read his expression carefully. She could see longing fighting to surface behind his eyes, but his resolve was holding for now. She knew that if she went farther, his broken and drunk state wouldn't stop him from taking things all the way. Both of them had responsibilities to uphold. Qrow didn't want to put her in a compromising position when he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself. Now was the final opportunity to hold onto reason before he lost himself to his desire. Feeling her retract her hand reassured him that she understood.
He let exhaustion finally take over as he fell on his side with a tired groan. Winter opened her mouth to apologize, but she lost her words when Qrow wrapped himself around her tightly. They stayed there, bathed in silence for a long while. Winter's thoughts finally caught up with her, racing through what had just happened.
As far as their public reputation went, they were just rivals, constantly bickering with each other. Both Ironwood and Ozpin had to brace themselves when they know Qrow and Winter would be at the same meeting. For some reason, the thought of either of their superiors knowing about what had just transpired made Winter cringe internally. This was out of character for both of them and she didn't want to face the inevitable reactions if they were found out.
Thinking more along these lines, she came to her conclusion with a resolute sigh.
Qrow could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she tried to grasp the situation. Knowing her, this would all mean nothing the second he walked out the door. This was fine, he decided. He hadn't expected things to turn out this way and didn't expect her to let it stick. They had to go back to normal, that's just how things worked with them. A relationship with her would only distract them from their respective obligations. Besides, Qrow thought, there was no way it would last very long. He got under her skin far too easily and they would be fighting a majority of the time.
Winter reached to turn out the light, her brief absence causing Qrow the shiver. When she returned to his side, he curled around her instantly.
"If you ever do this again, I'll kick your ass," she grumbled into the darkness. Qrow's eyes quickly adjusted to the faint light of the moon pouring through the window. He could see her signature scowl return as she settled onto her back.
"So you're telling me that you don't do this for every man who breaks into your apartment?"
She growled and jabbed his gut with her elbow. Qrow let out a pained chuckle and attempted to block her attack with his arms, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
"Just go to sleep already," she huffed, turning her back to him and pressing against his body.
He closed his eyes in compliance, but dread soon slowly crept like ice through his veins. He feared what nightmares his troubled mind would cast him into.
