Lumi left the door ajar as she turned mechanically on one heel and marched to her father's room.

"Dad," she called through the door and knocked twice. "The police are here."

The words felt unreal on her tongue but she forced them out anyways. She tried to think of when she'd slipped up, what she could have done to have warranted Child Protective Services being called on them but her mind came up blank. Her feet lead her to the kitchen where her pancakes were just starting to burn.

The police are here.

She flipped the pancakes and tended to the other dishes she was cooking.

Child Protective Services is here.

Two weeks into winter break, and she hadn't seen a teacher aside from Branwen at the grocery store (hadn't been injured when she saw him) so who in the actual hell called CPS? Why? Why would someone do something like that so close to the new year?

The fucking police are here.

Lumi slammed the pancakes onto the serving platter and tossed another splash of batter onto the hot pan. She plated the easy over eggs and popped the yolk in her haste (then mentally screamed). Her aura was practically storming beneath her skin, begging to be released. Her body's simple logic of stress = adrenaline = time to fight (or get the hell out) was working against her and she needed desperately to calm down or she'd cause more trouble.

She drew in a deep breath, held it, let it go. Another deep breath, she latched onto her aura and directed it heal any lingering injuries she had. She had wanted to wait until after breakfast, because using aura on an empty stomach was a dumb idea, but well- CPS was at her damn house. It wouldn't do to even wince from soreness around them.

Rather than wait for the rest of the food to finish cooking, Lumi snatched up her mildly burnt pancakes, smeared a bit of butter on them, then wolfed it down. She threw two slices of bread into the toaster, then used them to mop up the spilled yolk and ate that too.

She didn't even want to eat, despite all the effort she was going through to cook breakfast. Her stomach was too tangled up in knots; anger, confusion, betrayal, and fear battled for dominance from her heart to the pit of her stomach. With luck, she would develop an ulcer before the authorities left and have to be escorted to the hospital, which would then be added to the case as a failed suicide or poisoning attempt.

"Lumi," Ash hissed at her. "Ix-nay on the Semblance-ay."

The violet eyed girl blinked and realized that her semblance was thickening the shadows to tar beneath her feet and all over the kitchen. Nocte was "casually" trying to open the cabinet with her entire body weight as a result.

She took another deep breath and tucked away her power where it belonged. Ash burrowed under her arm for a quick, tight hug then let her go and joined Nocte at the table.

Semblances were tricky like that- you spent hours trying to find out what yours was, and once you found the trigger for it, you had to train yourself out of only using that emotion or using it when you felt that emotion but didn't need it (she hated to admit that here she struggled).

Lumi finished up the latest batch of pancakes and turned the stove off, uncooked batter be damned. She fixed three plates and set them at the table- then stood back up to make her dad a plate. She put it in the microwave and hoped the police would move from questioning him to getting statements from her and her siblings soon so they could try and salvage something of their morning meal.

Nocte, the sibling with iron nerves, ate without problem while Lumi pushed her food around her plate and Ash sipped nervously at his orange juice.

Police were only ever called in when there was Hunter involved, which her father definitely wasn't but her mother was (well, used to be). They didn't live together still, but that didn't matter because the Hazelwood children lived at this address so that was where the police went. Later, they'd go ask her mother a few questions, which didn't bode well for the woman's fledgling sobriety or Lumi's continued good health.

When she found out who called CPS on her two days before returning to school, she'd make them a nice treat laced with laxatives.

A kind faced social worker stepped into the kitchen with a reassuring smile and a weathered satchel. "Hi, I'm Shel Leander. I work with Child Protective Services to ensure that kids, like you all, aren't being hurt or neglected. May I ask who's the oldest?"

No, Lumi wanted to say, you may not. You may, however, leave and never set foot in this home again.

"I'm the oldest," Lumi informed him and fixed a nervous but sincere smile on her face (it was, of course, fake).

"Great," he clapped his hands. "I'm going to ask you a few questions about your home life. Anything you tell me will stay strictly between us, okay? So your mom or your dad won't know what we talk about unless you tell them- but you don't have to tell them unless you want to."

Yes, yes, I know how all this goes, Lumi mentally groused. You ask questions, I tell you whatever the hell will get you to leave quickest, then you'll ask Ash and he'll say the same thing. Next, you'll throw a few questions Nocte's way and she'll say the exact same thing then you'll gather your notes and nothing will come of anything except maybe a visit in a few weeks.

"Alright," she glanced down at her plate and fidgeted in place (adults responded better when you were polite and slightly nervous- it was endearing). "Uh, would you like something to drink before we start?"

"No thank you," he pulled out a clipboard and untucked a pen from his shirt pocket. "I'm fine for now- but it's kind of you to ask."

Ugh, Lumi was already done with this whole thing.

Some indeterminate but painful amount of time, the police and social worker left with a promise to keep in touch and relay any updates about the case.

Joy.

The Hazelwoods convened at the kitchen table to at least attempt to eat the meal Lumi cooked even if their hearts weren't in it. Partway through, Delphinus curled his fingers around his ceramic mug and in a soft tone asked if their mother was abusing them in some way, if they knew who or why someone would report a case of physical abuse to social services.

They were as lost as him.

Eventually they drifted from the kitchen to go do their own things. True to form, Lumi grabbed her gym bag and set off for a few hours of mindless exercise while Nocte settled herself in front of a video game and Ash pulled out his sketchbook.

But instead of heading to the gym, Lumi took an airbus to Beacon and carefully exuded an aura of "do not talk to me" all the while. When they landed, she followed the bulk of the crowd down the main avenue and ducked into a random bathroom to change her clothes.

The ride hadn't been very long, but it was long enough for her to text her sometimes client Aqua and find out that their team was away for the holiday weekend. She stepped through her own shadow and into Aqua's room long enough to deposit her bag then step out onto the jogging path that looped around the school. She made sure to stretch and put in her earphones before she took off and alternated between an easy lope and a grueling pace with every lap.

When she figured that she'd run enough to lighten her mood from "I will poison whoever called CPS" to "what the fuck ever, I'm over it," she did a monumentally stupid thing and strolled into Emerald Forest to pick fights with whatever low-level Grimm happened to be lying around.

Anger sated, but guilt still lingering (because she doubted Nocte or Ash were at fault for getting the attention of a concerned citizen so it had to be her doing) Lumi left her cuts and bruises to heal naturally (though she did disinfect and bandage them because she wasn't a huge idiot). She stress-baked what seemed to be a small cafe's worth of treats on Sunday before she calmed down enough to be mostly pleasant.

On Monday morning she dabbed a bit of concealer and foundation onto her face to mask her not-quite-black eye, packed a "please forget that time I embarrassed myself" gift, and dressed comfortably in a thick sweater, a pair of fleece-lined tights and her trusty boots. The first day of a new semester meant a schedule change, but since she'd passed all her classes last semester and was a third year, that mostly meant sitting around for an hour in the morning while the first and second years stressed out about extracurriculars and the like.

Third years had the option of automatically sending in their transcripts once first semester grades were in, which she did, to all four Hunter academies that she had to rank ahead of time in order of preference. She and other applicants would hear back in April, so the only thing she could do until then was keep up her grades.

Lumi doodled the stylish outfit Professor Goodwitch had been wearing the last time she'd seen her and drew a few variations on that same theme until it was time to get to her actual classes. Her schedule said she had Literature first, P.E., lunch, then Weapons and Math.

She thanked the universe that she hadn't ended up in Weapons for fourth period. An hour and half class followed by an hour detention was far too much time to spend in Branwen's class. Her back ached at the thought of being stuck on those tall stools for two and a half hours.

Speaking of Branwen, the last time she'd seen him she was covered in flour in the middle of a grocery store. She hoped that he'd forgotten the Flour Incident but braced herself for teasing nonetheless and had her customary offering tucked away in her bag. Their relationship was actually pretty good, all thing considered, so maybe he'd help her feel better just by being himself. (She still didn't know who she'd given enough reason to call CPS and that fact was beginning to irritate her more than it depressed her.)

Qrow gathered up the weapon evaluation forms his first year class had filled out and sighed. Some students had come a long way with improving their weapons and he was proud of them for it, but an annoying handful either refused to listen to his advice, continued to do sloppy work or- in the case of one particular brat- just bought a new weapon for every eval. That was a lot of lien to be throwing around for an assignment that popped up every month or two and was only worth a quarter of their overall grade.

The door to the workshop swung open and he looked over his shoulder with a raised brow. Did someone leave something behind? If it was that brat…

"Oh, good, you're here," Lumi said with a smile. "I was worried that I would miss you."

So, not the brat (whew).

"You sayin' you didn't miss your favorite teacher over the long break?" He shot back with a grin.

She raised a brow. "I saw you last week, but if you're willing to forget that without a bribe…"

"No, no," he reached out and wracked his brain for wh- ah, the grocery store. "That part's still completely necessary. Who knows what I might do if I don't get my tribute…"

"I shudder to think," she deadpanned and handed over the tipperware container. "Please have mercy on me, o' great Branwen."

"Smartass," he said while prying open the lid.

She rolled her eyes. "It's a cinnamon roll cake, in case you're wondering."

"Noted," a few crumbs fell from his face.

How in the- he was a huntsman so really, she shouldn't be so surprised that he'd opened and eaten half a slice in the time it took her to roll her eyes, but somehow it still amazed her. Well, hopefully he wouldn't get indigestion or something tragic like that.

"Don't choke," she said a fraction of a second before he started choking. Lumi turned her eyes to the ceiling as if searching for answers.

"Thanks for the help," Qrow rasped and sucked in a deep breath which lead to a coughing fit. Didn't she know Aura healing or some shit? He was almost positive the type of kid who'd pick up healing on her own would take the first aid class Signal offered- a class which clearly went over the signs of choking.

"You seemed fine to me," she adjusted her bag's strap.

Harsh, Hazelwood, harsh.

He shot her a betrayed look, which she smiled at and tilted her head innocently to the side.

"It's lunchtime, so I'll let you get back to your, ahem, E-Z Meals," she turned on her heel and strode out.

He grumbled at her retreating form. She was a cheeky brat when the mood hit her, but at least she didn't buy a new weapon every month.

Also, her level of openness had remained the same as before winter vacation. He had worried that she'd go back to evasive half-answers and vague but distressing off-handed comments.

It was… nice.

Lumi walked into Branwen's class for the third time that day and took her usual seat for detention. Her face felt heavy, and a quick peek at her compact mirror revealed that all the concealer and foundation she'd been slathering on had become a cakey, wrinkle-ridden mess. She sighed and dug around in her bag for the small packet of make-up wipes she had (thankfully) remembered to carry. It was weird to wipe of skin colored make-up, but it was even weirder to look into the mirror and see the slight difference in skin tone between her made-up half and her clean half.

She balled up the dirty wipes and set them aside then waved her hands to help dry her face more quickly. Carrying around make-up and having to constantly re-apply it was a pain and she decided that she'd just heal up her bruised eye instead of suffer through another application of cold, gooey foundation.

Her hand lit up with Aura and she had scarcely touched her cheekbone before the door to the class swung open. The white energy seeped beneath her skin as she darted a glance to the side.

"What're you doin'?" Branwen fixed her with a narrow-eyed look.

She was caught flat footed. "Healing?"

"Healing what, kid?" he stopped a few feet away and placed a hand on his hip.

"My eye," she smiled nervously. "Uh, I hit it on the table, so…"

He scrutinized her for a moment then turned on his heel and went to his desk. "Alright, well you've got weapon evals to file, so hop to it."

"Will do," she cleaned up her wipes and tucked away her mirror. "So how was your first day back?"

"Blossom's still tryna badger me into supervising a club, that one kid is still buying a new weapon for every eval," he shrugged. "Same old, same old."

She hummed and plucked the messy stack of papers from his desk. "What club?"

"Not sure, but the answer's no," he woke up his computer screen and pulled up his e-mail.

They worked in companionable silence until Qrow spoke up, "What'd you do over break, kid?"

Lumi told him about her week up north and experiments with Gravity Dust crystals. She carefully edited out spraining her ankle and all the video game homages instead saying she did flips and rolls mid-air. He pointed out some flaws of relying on Dust for movement, which she picked his brain for solutions to.

The hour let up before their conversation did, but Lumi excused herself anyways and promised to bother him tomorrow. He waved her off and went back to the work he was supposed to have done. The next day, they picked up the discussion and Qrow took the opportunity to badger her into incorporating a fire-arm into her arsenal.

"Branwen, no," Lumi rolled her eyes at him and entered in a few notes into a student's file. "What's next; you're gonna tell me I should add a cape to my Huntress outfit?"

"Well, if you want to emulate the coolest Hunstman you know," he stretched his arms up and over his head.

"I'll be sure to ask Mr. Xiao Long where he shops," she teased.

"Rude," he deadpanned.

"Mm," Lumi hummed and saved her work. "Well, enough about me, what did you do over break, Branwen?"

There wasn't much to say- much he could say actually considering his business with Oz- but he told her about baking with his nieces and going into the town square for end of the year celebrations.

"Oh, that sounds so nice," she set aside another sheet. "My family stayed home- well, except for me."

"Whaddya mean?" he asked casually while scrolling down a page.

"Someone called social services on us on Saturday," she explained while typing. "So I went for a run to calm down. Then we weren't really in the mood on Sunday to do much of anything. We all watched TV together, and I baked a little, but that was about it."

"Why did social services show up?" He looked up from his Scroll.

She shrugged. "I guess I gave someone the wrong idea and they felt concerned enough to call? I'm not… I don't know why though. The cops never find anything and CPS always says they'll check in, but, I mean," She wrinkled her nose. "I won't hold my breath."

"You get CPS called to your house a lot?" Qrow typed a few notes on his phone but kept his tone light.

"Not really," she leaned back from the screen and stretched. "Not anymore at least. My parents divorced and the amount of visits we got went way down, but every once in a while CPS pops back in for no reason."

"People don't call social services 'for no reason'," he looked her over. "And most folk don't like to get involved in others' business unless they think they're gonna make a difference."

Lumi scowled. "Yeah well 'people' need to mind their own business."

He sighed. "You can't think of a single reason someone would look at you and think 'yeah that kid needs help'?"

"No," she deadpanned. "All our neighbors know I'm training to be a Huntress, and the teachers here should put two and two together."

"Yeah well, normal 'training' doesn't usually end with the amount of injuries you show up with." He shot back.

"If you've got something to say, just say it, Branwen," she snapped.

"Alright," he stood up and walked closer. "You look like the poster child for abuse. Training shouldn't leave with your bruises and fractures and broken bones- not unless your parents are using it as an excuse to kick you around."

"My dad's a computer programmer," she exclaimed. "He couldn't hurt me if he tried!"

"What, no defense for your mom?" He placed one hand on the desk and leaned forward. "Is it because she's the one knocking you around?"

"She taught me everything I know," Lumi stood up and mimicked his aggressive posture.

"She taught you how to be an alcoholic too?" He crossed his arms and rose to his full height.

Lumi recoiled as if struck. "W-what?"

"Look, actin' dumb doesn't suit you," he sighed. "You're smart enough to figure out Aura healing- on your own at that- so you've gotta know that drinkin' won't solve your problems."

"I already told you I don't drink!" she ran her fingers through her hair. "And no one's abusing me! Where are you getting all this from?"

Qrow exploded. "I caught you buying whiskey in an alley! You've got a history a mile long of coming to school injured- with injuries you should've been able to heal if you hadn't been run ragged and had your aura basically gone. Just before break you showed up with booze all over your shirt and a half-assed excuse that someone 'spilled' it on you."

"Why do you care?" she shouted . "I'm serving your stupid detention like you wanted- just leave me alone!" Her fists were clenched at her side, knuckles white in her distress.

"Not until you tell me what's going on," he hissed.

"I told you," she took a step back but Branwen met her foot for foot.

"No," his voice was like a razor to her nerves. "You lied to me. I want the truth, Hazelwood."

"I…" Lumi's voice caught in her throat. "I didn't lie." Her eyes burned as she meet his unyielding gaze. "Training's hard and I'm not- I'm not that strong," a shudder ran through her frame and then she was full on sobbing.

Great.

Nearly seventeen years old and she was crying in front of her Weapons teacher because he yelled at her with what he thought was a legitimate reason. How pathetic, she chastised herself through the tears; it was a perfect illustration of how weak she really was.

Qrow shifted in place and internally struggled with the opposing impulses to run far, far away, offer comfort or press her for answers. He wasn't a total heartless bastard, but weren't there school rules in place about this sort of thing? That teachers should not, at any point or for any reason, put their hands on a student? Well, that was more to prevent abuse, and he didn't want to seduce the weeping slip of a girl in front of him, so surely the rules could be bent for this one situation?

Turns out he wasn't great at this whole "talking" thing but hugs always worked on his nieces and that was worth a shot wasn't it? He placed one hand on her shuddering shoulder, then the other, and drew her into a light hug. She didn't reciprocate, but she didn't pull away either, so he counted it as a win.

A couple minutes later that felt like an hour, Lumi wiped her eyes and broke away from his tentative hold. He stopped counting cracks in the walls and looked her over.

"You good?" he asked gruffly. He bit back the twenty other questions that sat on the tip of his tongue.

She nodded, but didn't look at him; skirted around him to reach her bag. Strap in hand, she muttered "bye" and slipped through the shadows to the bus stop.

Well, there went that.

Unlike in the movies, life didn't get miraculously better after her small breakdown in front of Branwen- no sudden personality change where he backed off but they remained friendly and the situation got glossed over like a bad dream. If anything, it got worse.

First, her mother finally got a visit from CPS; which greatly worried her boss, the police chief, who then called her into the office for "a chat." Her mother, of course, then called Lumi and demanded to know why this all was happening, and when Lumi couldn't give an answer, she hissed something foul and hung up.

Which made Lumi cry again, because she had somehow reverted back to being her weepy seven year old self.

Second, everything was incredibly awkward between her and Branwen. She barely spoke two words to him if she could help it, and he responded in kind. Their one attempt at breaching the divide ended up making everything worse because she wouldn't admit to a drinking problem or being abused and he flat out didn't believe her- in part because she'd taken a tumble while experimenting with Dust during lunch in effort to clear her mind, and had thus limped into class with a twisted but not unbearably injured knee.

Worse still, she had to go with her mother on the weekend and the woman had been brutal in their training sessions. She soundly trashed Lumi with a show of skill that left no doubt in her mind that her mother had whole heartedly earned her diploma from Haven Academy, then made Lumi heal herself before they went back into the ring.

The weekend ended early when on Saturday, dangerously low on aura and bleeding, Lumi narrowly dodged a blow that carved a deep gouge in the floor by stepping between one shadow and the next. She took in the scene with wide eyes (that had nearly been her, that mark in the dirt) and quietly said that she was tired. Verbena rounded up all three of her children and dropped them back home with little more than a goodbye.

That Monday, Branwen eyed her bandages with suspicion, but when she tugged down the sleeves of her sweater and purposefully looked away, he didn't say anything. Lumi was too tired to do much of anything except finish marking papers and slide them onto his desk.

It was tiresome to be stuck in a cold war with him. She saw him for two and a half hours a day every day except weekends, and an hour of that time was spent without other people around to act as a buffer. She took to wearing applying foundation before class and doing touch-ups just before detention to hide how little sleep she got.

On top of that mess, hours were eaten up by her mother's rapidly switching moods. She hadn't texted Lumi for three days after nearly crushing her into red paste, but then she called with that guilty broken tone that Lumi crumbled to every time and asked between tears if she was mad at her, if she was okay, if she could forgive her for lashing out in stress.

Verbena asked for forgiveness but didn't say sorry, didn't really apologize or make mention of how she was in the wrong for using such force against her teenaged daughter- yet Lumi's tender heart lead her to mouth the words anyway; it's okay, I'm fine, I should work on being faster, I forgive you.

Lumi fielded calls at all hours of the night, some more coherent than others, of her mother reminiscing about when she'd been younger, fresh from the academy with her team at her side and her weapon on her back, or when she'd fallen in love with Delphinus and had three adorable children, or when she'd given up being a Huntress to become a cop so she could spend more time at home and didn't Lumi recognize how much she sacrificed for them? Didn't Lumi appreciate her at all? How could she be so selfish?

She knew, in a clinical detached way, that she was being abused; just because she could heal herself afterwards didn't negate the fact that Branwen and all those stupid online checklists were right in their assessment. It didn't change the fact that she could look at a "cycle of abuse" poster and point out every tactic at every stage her mother used.

The problem, however, was that by claiming that she was being abused, was being emotionally manipulated, that it would definitely be reported and the paper trail went back years which meant that undoubtedly she and her siblings would end up in a foster home while their parents ended up in jail; her mother for abuse and her dad for neglect (how did he not notice, the courts would ask and shepherd the Hazelwood siblings to a "safe" place where they'd never see each other again.)

There was also the issue of proving to Branwen that she wasn't a teenaged alcoholic. She could submit to breathalyzer tests every day, but a smart alcoholic would just save drinking until they were out of school for the day or drink in the mornings and use both lunch and P.E. to work any lingering alcohol out of her system. And while her weapons instructor might not be happy with her right now, he admitted that he thought she was smart and it would be just like her to carefully conceal her problem like that- she did it with abuse, why not with her (fake) drinking problem?

Except, of course, for the fact that she doesn't drink, at all so she'd have to give up her side-job which was the real issue even if her teacher didn't know it.

The entire thing was a mess that kept Lumi up at night and soured her stomach. She should have kept quiet, shouldn't have mentioned the visit from CPS, should have diffused the situation with all the tricks she'd picked up over the years, shouldn't have given so much away, should have healed herself completely every time before class.

Her mind felt like an ocean of "should have"s and "shouldn't have"s with playbacks of her fight with Branwen interspersed with her mother's voice murmuring about all she'd done for them, all she'd done to help Lumi get stronger.

So on Tuesday of Week 3 of Life Is Hell, she slid a container of chocolate chip brownies onto Branwen's desk and softly said, "I'm sorry. I don't want to fight anymore, can you forgive me?"

She kept her spine steel-straight as he sighed and got up. She didn't even turn to face him or flinch away when he walked around his desk and reached out for her. She kept herself very still and blinked away the sudden burning in her eyes when he messed up her hair with a grumbly, "Yeah, okay."

Lumi had learned the art of not really apologizing from her mother, and Branwen surely knew that she was only repentant for arguing and yelling at him (but not for lying about the injuries and alcohol), yet he swept it under the rug and they settled into a calm, quiet co-existence for the rest of the month.

A/N: Ah, poor Lumi, I make her suffer so.

See you next week.