TAIYANG

Fatherhood was everything that Taiyang had dreamed of and nothing he'd expected.

He knew that changing diapers was something that happened, but was caught off guard by how often and by how routine it was.

He knew that babies would need feeding, but never expected how often or how much.

And he knew that babies were supposed to be cute, but was unprepared for how much his heart and brain would melt when he held his daughter in his arms as she slept.

His Yang, his sunny little dragon. He was so proud of her. She made him so happy he thought he might die of it.

Important things to keep in mind when the sound of crying baby wakes you up shortly past midnight and you know you have to go make a bottle before the crying will stop.

It reminded him of a throwaway line he'd heard in Grimm Studies class that had stuck with him, that he hadn't really appreciated until then.

"It's no accident that the creatures of grimm are hideous. There's advantage for them in looking scary and unnatural. It heightens our fear, making us sloppier fighters and easier to track. It's the opposite of how babies are designed to be cute to encourage us to take care of them."

They were cute, Taiyang knew. They really were.

They were also, he was discovering, expensive. There, at least, he had help. Qrow's missions for Ozpin were not high-paying; they couldn't pay much more than the typical mission for someone of Qrow's experience or it would draw unwanted attention. The difference was the sheer number Qrow went on, without Raven to share his recon role.

He also jokingly—or at least Taiyang hoped it was a joke—bought Taiyang a sling that could brace a baby to his chest to let him return to the field. There were, of course, all manner of logistical problems with that, especially for someone whose semblance was Immolation, and Taiyang knew it could not have been a serious gesture. Then again, Qrow's laugh afterwards had seemed awfully forced.

In the end, what made it all work was Summer.

Yang was crying.

Taiyang groaned and hauled his leaden body out of bed. One of these days, Yang would sleep through the night. He knew it would happen eventually. Why couldn't 'eventually' be, like, today? Even tomorrow would be just fine. Yesterday would have been better.

Now temporally dislocated in addition to plain old tired, Taiyang stumbled to his feet. He knew this routine well. Down the stairs, heat some water, mix formula into it, feed Yang until she emptied the bottle or passed out, then steal another few hours of sleep before morning. Normal.

When he got to the kitchen, however, what he saw surprised him so badly he stumbled backwards and almost fell down.

Summer was already there, the formula scoop in her hand over a bottle of hot water.

"I've got this one," she said. "Go back to bed."

"It's my job," he said numbly.

"You can if you want to," said Summer, screwing the lid on to the bottle. It took her untrained hands a couple of tries to get it right, but it slid into place properly. "I'm offering to help with it."

It being the middle of the night, Taiyang struggled to mount a response to this. Maybe it was his overdeveloped sense of responsibility, or maybe something else he couldn't name at such a dark hour, but accepting her help seemed to loom large.

Then fatigue fell on him again, and her offer suddenly felt awfully tempting. "You sure you wanna?"

"I've got this," she repeated.

Taiyang tried to speak, but was delayed by a titanic yawn. "Okay," he mumbled, "she likes to be tucked up like so, and it's okay if she doesn't finish the whole thing. If she falls asleep during, tease her with it a little and see if she'll suckle more, but she'll know when she's done."

Summer nodded appreciatively. "I follow."

"Going back to bed," said Taiyang, and he staggered back upstairs.

His sheets were still warm when he climbed in.

That was nice.

Yang was in the sling.

Just because Taiyang didn't plan on wearing it into battle didn't mean he wouldn't wear it.

Yang was a month old, and though she didn't need to be held at all times she was awake, she much preferred it. With the sling, Taiyang could do that, while still doing things like work in the garden he'd built for their house.

"Does that hurt your back?"

Taiyang looked up to see Summer. She'd recently returned from a mission, and she looked it, scruffy and dirty and ruffled. Her eyes, though, were intense, like something heavy was hanging over her, like she had some great purpose she was contemplating.

"It's nothing," said Taiyang. "It hurt much worse after most of Bridgestone's classes."

Summer's gaze never wavered, though it took her a long while to gather herself. It reminded Taiyang of a geyser that can only burst when the pressure below, inside, has risen enough, but that's awfully violent after that.

He kept working in the garden while he waited. That was how the team was supposed to work, wasn't it? He was the one waiting in the wings, as it were. It was his job to be ready as the ultimate second line.

The most over-qualified second stringer.

"Did you know," said Summer as the words spilled out in a rush, "that there are birds who lay their eggs in other birds' nests?"

"Really?" said Taiyang.

"Yeah. When other birds lay, these ones mix their eggs in with them. That way the other birds will take care of the young for them, without them having to spend their own time and energy on it. It's a kind of parasitism."

Bird analogies were only too potent in Team STRQ. "Are you saying Raven is one of those parasites?" said Taiyang.

"I don't know what Raven is," said Summer, and she sounded helpless. "I thought I knew her, but I was wrong. I must have been. I thought she loved you. I thought she loved me."

"She does," said Taiyang. "I know she does."

"More than this," said Summer, gesturing at Taiyang's front.

"Fair. The thing is, if Raven didn't love us, her semblance wouldn't work. If you want proof, there it is."

"You're defending her," Summer said.

"Am I not supposed to?"

"I wish she'd defend herself."

"Because that would mean she's here," said Taiyang.

Summer said nothing. The intense look had returned.

One thing Taiyang knew about Summer was that she moved deliberately. Raven was impulse and emotion, with calculation serving mostly to justify what her heart had already decided. Summer was the opposite. Taiyang knew, then, that she would explain what was on her mind when she was good and ready, and not just because it was making him curious.

So he turned his attention back to the garden, barely giving any mind to the infant strapped to his chest.

"You need help," said Summer.

"I'd appreciate some, yeah," he said. "The missions you and Qrow go on make a huge difference, but you helping feed Yang the other night was pretty awesome, too."

Summer went quiet, and when Taiyang looked over to her, he saw a familiar face. This was the face Summer made when she was rationing supplies, whether those supplies were food, ammunition, or her Aura. This was how she operated: always trying to measure how much of herself she should spend from moment to moment.

He knew and accepted that. He knew her semblance. He wondered, if he had her semblance, if he'd have had the mental strength to live the way she did, or if he'd have burnt himself out long ago.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay what?"

"I'll help with Yang," Summer said. "With the touchy stuff, not just with money. And instead of me going on all the missions, you can, too, when you're feeling stir crazy, and I'll watch her while you're out. Your life doesn't have to be over just because you've got a kid. I'll help."

Taiyang looked at her and saw nothing but sincerity. He'd known she was carrying secrets before, even when he hadn't known what they were. She didn't look to be keeping secrets now.

Might as well test it. "I've got her for now," he said, "but after I go inside I could really do with a nap. Think you can get the next feeding and diaper?"

"No problem," said Summer. "I'll go inside and wash off and then I'll be ready for my shift."

"Shift?" said Taiyang. "Taking care of a baby is a full-time job, is that it?"

"It seems that way from watching you," said Summer.

"Fair enough," said Taiyang, feeling lighter than he had in a while. What a difference it made to have someone to lighten the load, even just emotionally. He squatted to return his attention to the ground.

There was a feeling like a hand on his shoulder, but when he looked up, he saw only the fluttering of her cape as she darted inside.

"I think I loved you first."

Taiyang craned his neck to look down at Summer. Summer was pressed into his side as they sat on the couch. Some mindless show was on the obscura, but neither of them had been paying much attention. It was mostly there for background noise, and, judging from the fact that he hadn't heard Yang stir in a while, it was doing a decent job of it. It didn't take Taiyang's attention away from what Summer had just said, though. "First?"

"Before Raven, I mean," said Summer.

Taiyang felt a grin growing on his face. "Oh, you mean you fell for me before you fell for Raven, I get it."

She caught his humor and his grin. "Well, that too," she said with a chuckle. "But I meant I fell for you before she did."

The words did strange things to Taiyang, things he didn't understand. Talking about Raven still wasn't easy, even a year later, and this was the most intimately they'd talked about Raven in a while.

"So what if you did?" he said, trying to judge where this was going.

She traced her fingers along his side. Geyser-brain again, he knew. How much more important were the thoughts in her head, if this was the pressure they were under?

He tried again. "It's not like anything came of it, and you got over it, right?"

That drew her attention. She looked up at him, silver eyes bright. "I didn't get over anything."

His train of thought derailed. Years of interactions took on new meaning in an instant. Memories turned upside down.

"All along?" he said breathlessly. "All while Raven and I were…?"

"All along," she confirmed. "Before, after, and during."

"And you never… went for it, never…"

"It wouldn't have been right," said Summer, shrinking; she felt smaller against him, and colder. "Raven wanted you more. She was willing to give more than I could."

He pulled her tightly to him. "It's not a competition," he said.

"That's sweet of you to say." The compliment was not agreement.

The obscura droned on. Some new show, maybe. He couldn't tell.

"I think I've changed, though," she said. "Living here, taking care of Yang… it's made me realize I want it. I want it enough to spend more of me to get it. I can give you more than I could before."

"Summer, you don't have to—this isn't something you earn, you don't pay a price to get love or a life. 'The best things in life are free'."

"The best things in life don't cost money, but that doesn't make them free," Summer replied. "Sometimes, the price is effort, or time, or Aura." She squirmed in his grasp. "And sometimes the price is vulnerability."

He palmed the remote and turned off the obscura. No distractions.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

She sucked in a breath, rallied herself, and Taiyang felt like they were both on the precipice of something new.

"I tried not to let myself be vulnerable around people," she said. "You know that. I didn't talk about myself. I kept my semblance secret. I hid my powers. I didn't tell anyone what I wanted or needed. It was all part of the same thing. I learned it all from my mother.

"She tried to protect me. She knew I'd be a target just for what I was. I understood that long before I understood what these eyes do and mean. I tried to do what she wanted. I kept it together and kept it cool.

"But you—all of you—changed me. I wanted more. And to get more… I had to give more.

"So here, Taiyang. I'll give you the power to destroy me. Not in some combat sense, not in some power drama. I'll give you the secret of my heart.

"I want to be a mother. I want to be Yang's mother. I want to take care of her and help her grow. I want to teach her and, and read her stories, and watch her grow up. And… not just her. I want to have a child of my own, even though I know… they might have my curse, too."

Taiyang wanted to remind her that her eyes weren't a curse, that they were part of the good of her, but he couldn't interrupt, not now.

"And you can give me those things—or not," she said, tight against him, trembling like a leaf in the wind. "I don't want to be a replacement Raven. I don't even know if it's right for me to take her place, or to want to. I know I'm not Yang's mother.

"I can be second-best. I've been that for years. But I want more."

Taiyang couldn't breathe.

Amazing, how she'd said she was giving him power, and yet he was the one who felt powerless. Because how, in a million years, could he say no? How could he deny Summer this, when she'd asked for so little and given so much?

Because she was wrong about being second-best, just like she was wrong about her eyes. It wasn't a competition. Taiyang loved Raven and loved so much about her—but that didn't mean he couldn't, didn't love Summer.

"You'll be an awesome mom," he said.

She sniffed and looked up at him with watery eyes. "Really?"

"The very best."

"I'm… not usurping? I'm not a replacement?"

"Never," he said. "Promise."

"Oh," she said.

Words were Summer's strong suit, not his. He felt them failing him. At least there was one way she'd be sure to understand.

He pulled her to him.

Some things didn't change.

Summer was around about as much. Missions still pulled her away sometimes, but more often she was at home. She still paid lots of attention to Yang, and helped around the house.

The changes were more subtle. They learned how to divide the chores between the two of them. She discovered a love of reading stories. Taiyang was delighted to hear her read to Yang. She had a sing-song voice, a cadence to the way she read, that made the books and stories sound musical.

And, of course, there were changes to the sleeping arrangements. She moved her belongings into Taiyang's room, dropping all pretense.

It all became so normal, so familiar, that it took Qrow's return for him to see just how much had changed.

"One of these days, I'm gonna say no to one of Oz's missions and it's gonna blow his mind," Qrow said wearily, plopping down into a chair.

"Please, we know you love the action," said Taiyang.

"Yeah, for all the whining, you check your scroll a lot whenever you're home," said Summer.

"Two against one? When did this become a tag team?" Qrow grumbled.

"You should see how fast we can give Yang a bath," said Taiyang. "Now that's teamwork!"

"Put that on our list of team attacks," said Qrow. "No, wait. You can't do that until you come up with a quippy name."

"Bubble Trouble," said Taiyang instantly.

Qrow glared at him. "You know, for years I called you 'Mr. Mom', but you are such a dad."

"I bought the t-shirts and everything," Taiyang said, pride swelling in his chest.

"Can confirm," said Summer. "He's worn the shirts. Besides, he can't be Mr. Mom when I'm the mom."

"I'm sure Yang can tell the difference," said Qrow.

"Not just Yang," said Summer.

There was a pregnant pause.

Qrow's face showed no understanding, but Taiyang had no eyes for him. All his attention had swiveled to Summer. An exultant feeling had risen up within him. "Really?!"

"I took three tests to be sure," said Summer, bursting at the seams with excitement. "There's no mistake. We did it, Tai."

"Ha-ha!" he yelled, and he scooped Summer up in his arms and twirled her around—trivial for someone with a Huntsman's strength. His joy overflowed, like a flood that washed everything away. He was babbling nonsense because the cognitive parts of his brain were no match for the parts that felt excitement.

And Summer—gods, he loved her so much, and she looked like she was glowing. No—she actually was glowing, her eyes were more than shining, silver light was pouring from them. They kissed hard and passionately.

It was a long time before they separated, and after such a wild outpour, Summer grew a little bashful. She looked down, biting her lip demurely, looking up with the nervous cuteness he adored.

"That's… great."

Taiyang looked back. He'd forgotten Qrow was there in the heat of the moment. Qrow looked like he was trying to smile, but couldn't quite manage it. Something sickly was there.

"Really great," Qrow tried again. He reached for his shirt pocket and pulled out a flask. When had he started carrying one? Taiyang had missed that. Qrow had never been totally dry in the time Taiyang had known him, but he'd never needed alcohol so much he'd needed a flask to have some handy.

He took a long swig of the alcohol, then said to Summer, "I'd offer some to you, but, well. Obviously I shouldn't do that. Hey, Tai, you want some?"

Taiyang didn't really, knowing what Qrow's drink of choice was, but he felt too good to say no, and Qrow looked like he needed comradery too much. Taiyang took the flask and tipped it back, just a little.

Summer timed it perfectly. "It wouldn't be the first time you two shared germs."

Taiyang very nearly breathed the alcohol, or spat it across the kitchen. Only through colossal self-control did he keep it in his mouth.

"You little brat," said Qrow with laughter—genuine laughter. Through watering eyes, Taiyang watched Qrow ruffle Summer's hair.

This was good. This was happy. This was healthy. Team STRQ was still a thing.

There was no grimm on Remnant that could see this room or anyone in it now.

The next day, Qrow told them Ozpin had called with an emergency mission. He left right after breakfast.

"You did it, Summer," said Taiyang, his voice breaking under the weight of all the emotion. "You did it."

"Yeah," she said in the breathy voice of someone who's just done a full day's work. "I did it."

"Look at her," said Taiyang. "She's… she's like you. Same hair. Same face. Same pouting face."

"You're teasing me now?" said Summer. "I just made us a complete human being and you're still in teasing mode?"

"You did awesome," Taiyang said by way of repentance. "You're amazing."

"That was worse than breaking all the bones in my hand," she said.

"But look," said Taiyang. He reached out. Their child—their little girl—was swaddled up tight in blankets and bundled up across Summer's chest. She looked like she was passed out, and Taiyang didn't blame her. Being born was a lot of work.

There were noises and people around, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was his wife and their child.

"I see her," said Summer, her voice trembling. "I see her. Oh, look!"

The baby's eyelids were moving at the sound of her mother's voice.

"She knows you," said Taiyang. "She knows her mother."

"Hey," cooed Summer. "Hey. It's me. You hear me? Little Ruby."

"Ruby Rose," said Taiyang.

"Not Ruby Xiao Long?"

"I already got one for me," said Taiyang, unable to feel anything but generosity. "This one's yours. Like you said, you did all the work."

"Hey," said Summer. "Hey, Ruby Rose. Oh—oh, look!"

Ruby's eyelids had opened. The look of love between mother and daughter was a sight he'd never forget. Nothing could be purer or more miraculous.

Summer was crying now. "Hey," she said through a sob. "Hey, Ruby."

Something was wrong. Taiyang knew from tears of joy; he'd shed plenty of his own that day. Something had changed.

"What is it?" he said, trying to tamp down the urgency in his voice.

Summer sniffed. "Her eyes. They're beautiful.

"They're silver."

They'd known it was possible. They'd known the risk.

It was one thing when that risk was an abstract idea, and another when it resolved into a person. When it felt less like something that might happen and more like fate.

"Do you regret it?" Taiyang asked one night as they lay in bed, not sleeping.

"No," said Summer. "But I am sorry."

Taiyang liked when things were concrete, when he could see them and put hands on them and do something with them. The threats his daughter might face in the future… they were all unknown, unknowable, faceless, ephemeral. They hadn't emerged yet, but he knew they would, as sure as he knew the sun would rise in the morning.

"My mother tried to run," said Summer. "She thought, if she moved around enough, they wouldn't be able to pin us down. I won't do that. I can't."

"Okay," said Taiyang. "So, we stay here. Makes sense. It worked to hide you, it'll work to hide her. What else?"

"Well," said Summer slowly, "what else is on Patch?"

There could be only one answer—Summer sure as hell wasn't asking about the fishing fleet. "Signal Combat School," said Taiyang. "Wait… no. You mean to train her for combat?"

There was a long pause from Summer. "I want her to have the option," she said at last. "I was a late bloomer."

"As it were," said Taiyang, unable to help himself.

"Shut up," she said indulgently. "But I could have done better. I could have been better, if I'd started earlier. I wish I'd had the option. That's all I mean to give her. The option."

"Summer," said Taiyang, though the words pained him, "she'll be growing up on an island with a combat school, in a cabin in the woods which means she'll know from grimm, in a family of the best Huntsmen and Huntresses on the planet. Do you honestly think it'll feel 'optional' to her?"

"…kiss me," she said at length. "Kiss me like it was the first time."

He did, and lost the thread of the conversation.

(Maybe that was where the seed had been planted. Maybe he'd given her the idea. Maybe it was him.)

(Or maybe she'd known all along.)

"…and they lived happily ever after," said Summer.

"Yay!" clapped Ruby. Taiyang didn't know how much of the story Ruby'd understood, but she loved the performance. He knew he did.

"Thanks for the stories, mama," said Yang.

"So polite," Summer said, impressed. "Isn't she adorable?"

"The adorablest," said Taiyang.

"I love you both so much," Summer said.

"We know, mama," said Yang.

"Love you too," said Ruby, barely coherent.

"Go play," said Summer.

"Yay!" the kids yelled, and they dashed across the room.

She watched them go. "That's my whole heart, right there," she whispered, apparently to herself.

Taiyang cocked his head at her. "What, I don't have a piece of it?" he said, playing at being miffed.

"You got a piece of something," she said playfully right back at him.

He smiled. "You're doing great. I'm impressed with you every day."

She looked down—but only part of it was her usual bashfulness.

"Hey, talk to me," he said.

She looked after her children for a bit. "I want to give everything to them," she said.

"You already are," said Taiyang. "You give them time and affection and love. No one could ask for more."

"Thanks," she said, and she smiled. It didn't quite reach her eyes.

(He'd forgotten. All that time he'd known her, and somehow he'd forgotten.)

(Summer rationed herself. She had to if she wanted to survive. It was too easy for her to spend all of herself and burn out.)

(And he'd forgotten.)

SUMMER

The bolt on Solstice locked into place. The chamber gave a satisfying thunk as a new magazine slammed home. The mecha-shift assembly whirred smoothly as Solstice reformed.

The room filled with silver light.

All her weapons were ready.

"One more time," Summer Rose said to herself. "One more mission.

"One hundred percent."

End.