Rough work meetings through the week. Looks like it's likely the company will liquidate in late January now. The BPO (outside call agencies) haven't worked out well, and a big part of that I suspect is because they keep trying to use AI for it all. Far too many presentations that reek of Chat GPT, especially since they kept introducing our company name wrong and deviating from the material we provided.

I guess no one can escape the allure of cheap labour using AI – I'm still getting practically bombarded by PMs from bots trying to push ai-gen artists on me here on this site.

"I love your story (insert story) and think we can collaborate to bring it to life through art."

Roll eyes. Yes, this is totally how normal people talk online. Good day, fellow human, I would like to collaborate.

Cover Art: Aristeo Storm

Chapter 59

The night out drinking with Maria was, worryingly enough, one of the best he'd had in years.

Qrow worried that made him an alcoholic but he didn't think it was really the alcohol so much as the chance to let go. Booze made you looser, and while he'd never been the type to indulge in physical intimacy in moments like that, he did let loose emotionally. Not to mention drunk Qrow was just a better person than sober Qrow. Funnier, friendlier, more open – he'd always been likable after a few drinks, when the bitterness and sorrow was eroded away.

The trip back to Beacon through the Emerald Forest was drunk but not dangerous, not for them, and it was undertaken mostly in silence. Not awkward, but professional, since they were in Grimm-infested territory and all. They'd been much chattier in the city. It was the silence that let his thoughts return, however.

I wonder what she thinks of me now. Must be suspicious how a kid my age got to acting like a bitter old man.

About the only solace was that she was unlikely to figure the truth. There were a lot more reasonable things to blame it on than time travel, and she'd probably concoct something about his harsh past making him grow up early.

It was true in a sense.

"You're not going to tell Ozpin about this, are you?" he asked, quietly.

"He'll know," she replied. "Old coot always knows."

Maria didn't bother sticking to the official story of Ozpin being younger than her. Qrow wondered if his transition had been recent. Maybe Maria had known and studied under the last Ozpin, and this one had only been taken over within the last twenty years.

"I'll tell him to mind his own business, though. Let him think I'm the one that corrupted you."

Qrow shook his head. "Won't work. Ozpin knows I'm an alcoholic."

"You're a teenager. You haven't been drinking long enough for someone to make that distinction." Maria scoffed. "And besides, almost every brat in Beacon is going out for drinks on the weekends. Admittedly, they prefer clubs and loud music. Not your style?"

"I don't like the crowds."

"Make you feel pressed in?"

"It's not that. My dislike for them isn't some traumatic thing." He didn't want her thinking otherwise. "I just don't like having to fight my way to a bar or shout to be heard over the music. And don't get me started with dancing on a cramped dancefloor where everyone is rubbing up against one another. And then there's the toilets…"

"Club toilets are shit," she agreed, sagely nodding her head. "I remember that was a thing back when I was in Beacon."

"You went clubbing?"

"What, you think I came out the womb like this?" she spat. "Course I did. I had a team, and friends, and teenage drama just like anyone else. Though I wasn't as broody as you are, that's for sure. Can't even imagine how garbage your childhood must have been."

"Pretty garbage to be honest. Born and lived in a tent with our parents sleeping one bag over – and trust me, the presence of children didn't stop them having sex."

Not monogamously, either. The tribe had never been into that kind of thing. Looking back, Qrow supposed he and Ray hadn't been so bad off – their parents had stuck together and supported one another for the most part. There were a lot of kids born from flings in the tribe that were practically ignored by one or both parents. Bran and Wen, whom their last names were based on, had invited people into their tent for fun but had never separated.

"Sounds awkward."

"It does but… well, kids adapt. We got an earlier education in some things and no education in others. Knew how to kill and skin an animal but didn't know the basics of history."

"And maths?"

"We knew that."

Important to know how to count the number of guards on a village, report those accurately, and split loot without being scammed. The best in the tribe had been brilliant at long division, and just as good at using mathematics to con their less capable fellows out their share of loot.

"Hmmm." Maria hummed, no doubt building a picture of his childhood in her head. Qrow didn't bother to lie and change that. Her and Ozpin knew bits and pieces, and it wasn't like they were enemies. The only thing he did was keep the answers to what counted in this life, not his last. "You said you'd killed before."

"Yes."

"Who was your first?"

In his old life, it had been a militiaman on a village. The man had been blocking Qrow from getting into a building and the fight had been fierce. Qrow had been amazed at the man's determination, as he fought on with lethal wounds for minutes. It wasn't until Qrow stepped over his dead body and entered the house that he realised why. Even then, brainwashed as he was by the tribe, he'd felt a sickness at seeing a woman huddling over two children.

They'd been caged together and ransomed off later. At least Qrow assumed it was a ransom.

His shudder was probably taken the wrong way by Maria. "I shouldn't have asked."

"It's… It's fine."

He knew he'd been a monster back then. Hated it. The fact he'd changed and done so much good, saving people's lives as a huntsman, had to pay it back. He hoped so. For now, he focused on this life. A better life.

"My first. Do you mean directly or indirectly…?"

"There a difference?"

"I don't know. My first was either the leader of our tribe after he made Raven go on a raid on an innocent village…" He waited for her hiss, her gasp, but Maria was calm. Relaxed. "Or it was another rat who I fought off when he tried to steal our food. I hit his leg too hard and it broke. There's a good chance he died."

"Rat…?"

"Oh. Uh. The tribe had a tradition. Orphan kids had to prove they were worthy of being kept around, so they're kicked to the edge of the camp like rats. The others protect you from Grimm and wild animals, but they don't give you food or shelter."

"You need to forage on your own? As children?"

"That's one option."

"And what's— ah, stealing. Attacking your own and taking what you want."

"Yeah." They had been bandits after all. "Survival of the fittest, or at least that was the idea. I know that's not how evolution works but we were a bunch of tribal idiots. Problem was, Ray and I became orphans in the late autumn, so we had to survive the winter. That's why I probably killed the kid who tried to steal food off me. He was just hungry. Desperate."

"But you didn't mean to."

"Course not."

"And your leader?"

Qrow grimaced. "I meant that one."

"Hmm. Good. You should always mean it if you kill someone. Not that you should make a habit of it but killing someone when you know what you're doing and what the consequences are means you have a reason. Only distinction after that is whether your reason is good enough or not."

"He was a monster," Qrow said. In the original timeline, back when he and Raven had stayed longer, Balmung had been the one to take Raven's first time. And not willingly. Admittedly, she'd been much older at the time, right before they made for Beacon, but he'd been a bastard who thought he could take whatever he wanted because of his strength. And he'd been right for the most part. "I don't regret killing him. But even then it'd be self-defence. I questioned him taking my sister on a raid straight after one. That was a bad call."

"Not the smartest move I've ever heard of. I imagine he had to make an example out of you or lose face. He try and kill you?"

"Yes."

"Then you did what you had to.

"Hm." It was Qrow's turn to hum, and then smirk. "And he lost face once I cut his head off, too."

Maria snorted, amused at the dark humour. This wasn't some idealistic city huntress fresh out of Beacon. "Brat," she chortled, and cuffed his head almost affectionately. "Almost a miracle you and your sister made it through an orphanage and school without killing anyone."

"I'm not going to hurt kids."

"I can see that. The way I hear it, your sister is the real hellion." Maria looked back ahead, moving her crutches with the experience of someone who had been injured countless times before. "But that's telling in a sense."

"What is?"

"That you wouldn't hurt kids like that when you're one yourself. You don't really see yourself as being like them. You've had a rough life."

Qrow grimaced. If there was one thing he hated, it was how melodramatic all of that made him sound. It was like those kids in Signal who tried to look cool by concocting "dark backstories" for themselves. He'd taught enough to know the type. But what was cool at fifteen wasn't at forty, and Qrow was less than proud of his inability to connect with the people he loved most.

It also sucked that it painted himself as so scarred. He had plenty of treasured and happy memories – Ruby and Yang's birth and milestones, Taiyang's wedding, birthdays and stupid stories from his time in Beacon. It was just that he couldn't speak of any of those due to the time travel, and the events in this life were a little shitty so far in comparison. That didn't bother him because he was an adult, and patient, but it bothered everyone else.

The words "I've been working to put food on the table so there's been no time for fun" were entirely normal coming from an adult, but tragic from a child, and that was how everyone saw him. Even if he saw the last few years as an easy sacrifice to make to get everyone back together, others saw it as the tragedy of a lost childhood and a boy who had to grow up too soon.

"It's not like that," he said. "My life has been a little harder than some, but not bad. I had parents who cared, a family, friends and more. There are people who don't get that."

"Don't like sympathy, eh?"

No, he didn't.

"It's more that I don't think I deserve as much as people give – and that's not me trying to downplay it either. There were kids at the orphanage who had nothing and no one, nor any skills to help them in life or anyone to adopt them."

Then there were people like Ozpin.

What was his suffering compared to the old man's?

"My main problem is connecting with the others, my team and friends. I've tried," he whispered, feeling every one of his years. "I really have tried."

Her hand patted his shoulder. "I can tell. Trust me, I know what it's like. My old team are all married and raising families, and here I am running around like this. No matter how hard I try, I'm always an outsider with them as well."

He'd felt like that when Taiyang and Raven settled down. But at least he'd had Summer for a while, the two of them going out on hunts like the good old days. And then Raven left and Summer snatched her chance to settle down as well. He didn't blame her. Summer had been madly in love with Taiyang, and it wasn't like she'd been looking to hurt his feelings by dumping hunts with him to bag Taiyang. Love had just made her a little blind to the feelings of those around her, and blindness didn't mean maliciousness.

"I'm still trying as well. I'm going to keep trying."

"Good luck, then. I grew old and bitter and gave up," she admitted. "Haven't even visited my team in the last two years. They just remind me how married to my work I am." She chuckled. "Guess that makes you more mature than me."

Or it made him desperate.

/-/

His team weren't thrilled when he came back drunk but their feelings stemmed more from him going out alone with a dislocated shoulder than the actual drinking, so he mumbled out an apology and lied, saying he'd gone out with Maria from the start. That calmed them down a little, the woman earning trust since their teacher – and by extension Beacon – had vouched for her.

"I've been thinking," he said, the next morning, after he'd brute forced his way through a hangover. "We should do something as a team."

It seemed to catch them all off guard.

"What?" asked Nessa. "Where's this coming from?"

"I just think we don't do much," he said, a little lamely. He really felt he should be able dominate and control conversations with teenagers given his age, but the age gap somehow left him even more awkward than he'd been as a teen. This felt too much like asking kids to hang out.

Probably because it was.

"We're not bad at teamwork but we're not exactly close."

Nessa looked to Gretchen and Peter for support. "We get along, don't we?"

Gretchen bit her lip. "I mean…"

"You agree with him!?"

"We get along, Nessa. But we're not exactly the best of friends. The only one we know anything about is Peter…"

They looked to the wiry teen, who seemed suddenly quite nervous for being highlighted as the only sociable one out of the group. It was galling to think that a young Peter Port had done more to notice and try and fix their issues than Qrow had.

"It wouldn't hurt to try and get closer," Qrow said.

Nessa crossed her arms. "I'm not going out drinking with you."

"What's with that look? Do you think I'm the type to get a girl drunk and take advantage of them?"

"No. I think you're the type to get us all wasted and into trouble."

"…" Qrow had to give her that. "Yeah, that's fair. And drinking with me probably isn't going to help us get closer either." It wouldn't help if they only became friends when surrounded by alcohol. Even a washed-up drunkard like him knew that. "That said, I'm open to ideas. My childhood was pretty lame so I don't know what to do."

Nessa bit her lip. He got the feeling she didn't want to put herself out for someone who hadn't wanted to be on her team in the first place. While Gretchen and Peter had forgiven his earlier issues, she hadn't.

But Peter, blessed Peter, was never one to hold a grudge. "I could introduce you to my little sister and we could go out in Mountain Glenn. I've promised her I'd bring you all around at some point. We could hang out in the new city."

"A day out babysitting your sister?"

"You wouldn't need to do anything; she's mature enough to be on her own. If you have another idea—"

Nessa shook her head. "I've nothing."

"It sounds okay to me," said Gretchen. "I've been wanting to check out Mountain Glenn. Hazel and I are thinking of moving there after Beacon."

Rent was lower in Mountain Glenn, and Qrow knew the only reason Hazel had a place to stay was because his sister was getting financial support as an orphan student of Beacon. The city was happy to pay out to have more huntsmen and huntresses.

"Sounds good to me!" Qrow lied. It sounded awful, but he'd take it and he'd try his best.

"Will you be inviting any of your friends?" asked Nessa.

It almost felt like an accusation.

"No. No, I want it to just be the four of us. And Pete's sister," he added, when the man cleared his throat. "I just want to connect more with you all."

Somehow, in some way, that appeared to be a mistake to say. Peter winced, Nessa rolled her eyes and Gretchen squirmed awkwardly. They did agree, however. The date was set for the following weekend.

After, Qrow cornered his partner. "What did I say wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Gretchen…"

"It wasn't what you said but how you said it," she relented. "I mean, connect?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Connecting is… I don't know. It's what businesspeople do. It's networking. Or what married couples about to break up want to do." She sounded exasperated as she said it. "Would it kill you to just say you want us all to be friends?"

"That's what I meant…"

"I know. I think they know it too, which is why they let it fly. It just sounds bad, like you're seeing us as beneath you. Like we're not your friends but people you feel you have to connect with on some level below friendship."

"I didn't… That's not how I meant it."

"Like I said, we know. You're rubbish at being a normal person but we're starting to realise that's not on purpose." She smiled awkwardly and patted his arm. "And I guess I know why that is. I haven't told them by the way. I didn't feel comfortable doing it. But… um… I asked Raven about it."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Didn't believe me?"

"I did! I did believe you. You're not the type to make up stupid stories to make yourself sound cool. Especially not when cool in this case means messed up." Her laugh belief her nervousness. "I just wanted to ask her for advice on what to say and not say. But… well…"

"She blew you off?"

"More like Raven is Raven. She just said you're strong enough to not need help, and I should leave it at that."

He ought to have expected that. Raven had always been the kind of person to take the merits of independence too far. It was obvious to even the casual observer that he did, in fact, need help. Thankfully not in terms of avoiding a mental breakdown and just in making friends. There were worse problems to have.

Yang would be pretty disappointed in me being this useless. Even Ruby was better at making friends, and she was a social wreck back in Signal.

They'd been the right age, though. A two-year age gap wasn't as insurmountable as a twenty-year one. Qrow ran a hand over his face. He'd fix this. He absolutely would. One benefit of being this old was knowing when he needed to admit he'd fucked up and put some work into making it better.

"Sorry about her. And I appreciate you trying. Ray thinks relying on others makes you weak. I know better. I've just never had a normal childhood so I don't get how this all works."

"Well… just talk." Gretchen rocked on her heels, hands behind her back. She wore an impish little smile. "What don't you get? Maybe I can help."

His first instinct was to make an excuse not to.

It was the coward's way out.

Qrow forced his way past it.

"I don't get how you can just sit next to someone and start talking to them. Like, you talk to people next to us in class."

"Sure." Gretchen waited for more. There was none. "That's… That's what bothers you…?"

"It doesn't bother me. I just don't know how to do it. Do you just talk? What do you talk about? What if they don't want to talk?"

Gretchen stared at him, mouth hanging open. "You… Didn't Summer say you were popular back in Signal…?"

"I was antisocial and never talked to people. Apparently, that made me cool. But I guess what's cool at fifteen isn't cool at seventeen. Or people are realising my cool exterior was less that and more me not knowing how to interact."

"Wow." She stared at him like he was some species she'd just discovered and didn't know what to make of. "I can't believe Willow and Summer like you."

"Willow is a princess who has barely met any boys before me. As for Summer, she's only my friend because she made friends with Ray first. I tried to befriend her and trust me my methods back then were even worse than they are now. I think she thought I was bullying her."

"You… bully…? I… I don't think I can imagine that. It seems so beneath you."

"Yeah, well, Summer being bullied in the first place is probably hard to imagine now."

"Yeah. Wow. She's kind of a badass now."

"Yeah."

"When she isn't making those stupid faces at you."

"Faces?"

"Doesn't matter. In fact, don't even think about it. If you're this bad at asking us to hang out as friends then you're definitely not ready for anything more complicated. Aheh." She laughed. "You always seem so mature when you were hanging with Raven and the others, but now that I think about it you let them do almost all the talking. You were just there hovering around and making sarcastic comments."

She had him there. Sarcasm was always a safe avenue for him because even if he said something wrong, he could write it off. "Yeah. Can you help me, then?"

"I guess I'll have to, won't I? The team will fall apart if I don't." Gretchen sighed. "Right. You and I are spending some time out in the city to practice being a normal person. But—" she stressed. "You need to tell your other friends what we're doing."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want them thinking we're doing anything weird in Vale together. They might think we're dating and I do not need that drama."

"Ah." Qrow imagined Willow and winced. "Yeah, that makes sense. I'll make it clear you're helping me out. Thanks, Gretchen."

/-/

"I am not best pleased with you, Maria. Can you guess as to why?"

Maria Calavera snorted. "Couldn't possible imagine," she lied. "But I'm here to tell you I'll take him on as an apprentice."

"That easily?"

"The kid and I talked. He's not really a kid. You know that, right?"

"Hm. He's certainly advanced for his age."

"That's one way of putting it for sure. Talking to him felt more like I was with another huntsman than a student. Depressing, but what can you do?"

The world was a harsh place and complaining about it here wouldn't fix anything. What also wouldn't fix a thing was trying to push the boy into a mould he wouldn't fit into. Other, better people might have said they should try, but Maria was a realist.

"Trying to force him into being a kid is like buying a pet and releasing it into the wild. The instincts just aren't there. It's a miracle he's as well-adjusted as he is. I'd honestly expect him to have hurt someone by now."

"Mr Branwen thankfully tempers his maturity with patience. I believe having a sister to look after has helped him there." Ozpin smiled faintly. "I dread to imagine what he'd be like if he had an excuse to retreat into himself and be alone. I still worry now," he admitted, "but there's so little I can do. I'd hoped being forced to interact out his friendship circle would help him but…"

"Like I said, it's about instincts. I'd trust him more alone with a bunch of Grimm than kids his own age. He'd know how to handle the former at least."

"How very distressing…"

Maria shrugged. "It's shit," she agreed, "but it's life – and it's better than what some have. Least the kid has friends, even if it's his sister who made most of them. It'll help him if you really are looking to replace me, though. The isolation will be easier on him."

Ozpin winced. "I'm not looking to replace you."

"We both know I'm not getting any younger." She scowled. "Unlike you."

"This is not a blessing, Maria. I respected and admired the man who originally held this body. He did not deserve to have me happen to him. As for Qrow, I'd be lying if I didn't say he caught my attention. His potential could see him becoming a worthwhile asset, but that doesn't mean I want him isolated at a young age."

"Not saying you do, old man. I'm just saying it's not your fault he is – and it's not your job to fix it either."

"I'm his legal guardian. If not me, then whom…?"

Maria rolled her eyes. Ozpin always had been a manipulative old coot – and never as bad as that word sounded. It was his first instinct to try and manipulate a young man into being happy, after all. Ozpin was a good man; he just liked having control over things.

"So, apprentice," she pushed, pulling away from a topic she wasn't suited for. "I assume I'm not okayed to just up and take him away from Beacon."

"Certainly not."

"Yeah, figured. Am I at least good to take him on some weekend hunts once we recover?"

"That, I shall approve of." Ozpin nodded. "Perhaps the excitement of those will give him a healthier way to relieve stress than to get drunk with women twice his age."

"Oi. That was two huntsmen out for a drink. Don't make it weird."

"You went out drinking with a seventeen-year-old, Maria. It was already weird. Not that taking one out to kill Grimm is any better, but I will trust you to teach him something useful and to keep him busy. He is already bored out his mind in class. I've overheard others suggesting the headmaster bump him up a year, but I've managed to convince him not to."

"Interfering as usual, huh?"

"At Mr Branwen's request this time. I offered him that opportunity before and he did not want it. He wishes to stay with his sister and what few friends he has, and seeing how difficult it is for him to befriend people his age, I can see why. Put him up a year where everyone will look at him strangely and he would have no one."

"Hmm. You're not wrong there. He sure is a strange kid."

"He is. But he is still a young man, and a brave one at that for what he's been through – and for supporting his sister every step of the way." Ozpin always did have a soft spot for family. "He and Raven have been wonderful for Summer as well. Speaking of…"

"No." Maria shook her head. "I'll take him on but not her. Having silver eyes doesn't automatically mean we'll gel. I hate kids, Ozpin. You know that. Qrow… well, he's a brat, but he isn't a kid. Not where it counts. I run her into the ground, she'll cry. I do the same to him and he'll work his ass off then ask me for a beer and a kebab after. I can handle that."

Ozpin sighed. "Is it so wrong to want to help everyone…?"

"No," she admitted. "It's not. And I respect you for wanting to, Ozpin. It's just…" The right words never did come easily. "It's not that simple. Life is cruel. I know that, you know that, and Qrow knows that as well. You want him to be grateful to you, I reckon the kindest thing you can do is help him give his sister a proper childhood. He'll appreciate that."

"…" Ozpin looked away. "I can't accept that."

"Meddlesome old coot." Maria chuckled. "You really are too good for your own sake sometimes. Do as you want. I'll help the kid's body catch up with his mind, but don't try and force anyone else on me. I'd rather die in the field than become one of your pet teachers."

Ozpin nodded. "Very well. Thank you for your time, Maria."

Next Chapter: 14th December

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