October II

Another day, another grumpy Raven. Summer couldn't blame her, but she certainly did sympathize with her predicament.

I mean, I can't even imagine what I would do if I couldn't be a hunter and also lost access to my family fortune and still had to survive. Getting turned down for simple jobs like grocery store clerk or garbage truck driver must be rough.

The problem was that Patch was such an established community. In a large city like Vale, where the population was easily in the tens of millions, new jobs in the hundreds of districts and communities would crop up one after another. There would probably be a deficit of labor and an excess of positions.

But out here, on an island where most people had already found their niche, no one needed to hire a new employee, especially an outsider and one as brusque as Ray. Short of an employee leaving the island or old person retiring or dying, no positions would ever even open up, and existing businesses had typically already found their equilibrium with what they had. Raven's lack of marketable skill meant she wasn't going to be working in something dignified like a law office or hospital; she was limited to menial labor, the kind of thing Summer still had to actively remind herself not to look down on.

I'm sure someone could use a person with aura. She's strong enough to load and unload boxes onto the shelves, at the very least. It's just a matter of time until she walks into the right place.

Summer had had to give Ray extremely detailed instructions about what to do in order to search for a job. She'd been closer than Raven's own shadow as she reviewed the resume Raven wrote up, and if her interpersonal skills when dealing with strangers were as bad as they had been at Beacon (and Summer imagined they were, since Ray hadn't exactly been drowning in new friends on which to whittle her banter out here in the forest cabin), a bit of coaching was basically a necessity.

Sadly, it wasn't enough. Rather, it was, but the circumstances had convened to render it irrelevant.

She's come home every weeknight for nearly two weeks, repeating the same old story. Every business she asks for a job says they don't have a position.

All Summer could do was encourage her, though. Encourage her, and keep supporting her when it came to the job hunt and to raising Yang.

Fortunately, I can make a lot bigger difference on the second of those two goals.

When the night fell and the businesses closed up shop for the day, Raven's unhappy mood would be made better by a homemade dinner by Summer, and she could mend her wounded pride with an in-depth lesson on baby safety and care, once again, by Summer.

It didn't seem like there should be a lot of lessons to go over, but that only worked when one assumed the parent knew common sense and could plan for the long term. For instance, Raven saw no need for Yang to be given toys.

"She's too young to even know what toys are, and it's not like she's gonna remember it," Raven had argued. "I don't have any really concrete memories from before age 5 or 6, so that's when we gotta start investing in brain care and shi- and shiz."

The problem wasn't that Raven didn't care, nor was it that she was particularly bad at parenting. She just couldn't see the bigger picture. Children's development was not a sure thing, and it was only because children were mentally stimulated for their entire youth that they developed solid comprehension of the world around them.

Raven had grown up outside of Vale, but Yang wouldn't, hence the source of their disconnect. Things that most parents took for granted (because they were parts of their own childhood) flew right over her head. Raven had no concept of how Yang was supposed to make friends, eat a healthy diet, see the world beyond the four walls in which she lived, or learn how to grow from baby to toddler and onward.

Their lesson from three days ago was the most exemplifying object in the pattern.

"You have to…make them burp? Why?"

Summer carefully held her sweet little niece over her shoulder and softly tapped her back in the proper spots for one so young. "Adults know how to get the gases out of their stomachs when they swallow them, but babies don't."

"A-And how does patting her back help?"

Not everyone knew the technique, but almost everyone (everyone in the four kingdoms, that was) had at least heard of burping a baby. It was in movies and books, or perhaps they knew other parents who'd done it, or maybe their own parents told them about it from their time. But that entire cultural inheritance, the organically passed knowledge, didn't exist within the Branwen tribe. To have to assist a baby in burping was foreign to Raven; she wouldn't have ever even thought of the concept on her own. It wasn't stupidity but innocence in a way, or rather inexperience. Summer didn't blame her - how could she when Raven had never had a chance to hear of such things?

It's going to be tough, isn't it? I can't just leave Yang to Raven, not when it's possible I might forget some key aspect and have that lead to a disaster. Like, what if Yang loses a tooth and Raven assumes that they pop out? I'd bet she knows better, but how can I be sure?

I'll gladly teach Raven all I know, but if I miss something, it could be horrible for Raven and Yang. Alternatively, I could just…stay. For months, maybe, or maybe until Raven has a handle on it. I can roll back the childcare and just keep a supervising eye for anything that looks wrong. Raven takes over, and I'm there as the safety net just in case.

Summer was a huntress. But Summer was a huntress of Team Stark, and she had made a vow to do whatever it took to keep her friends and family safe. Qrow could handle himself in the field and on his own. Tai was dead to her after how he'd just…ran out on Raven, not even bothering to talk it out or explain himself. In the end, her only obligations were to Ozpin or to Raven, and Summer knew which of those she would favor.

I mean, it's not really an obligation. I love Raven, and I love Yang, but, well…I mean, I'd like to get back to hunting eventually. It's not like I need the money, but it's my career. Eventually…

Eventually was an eventuality for later. Raven and Yang were Summer's now, and that was all that mattered.

Today's lesson had been on the proper way to swaddle a child, and Raven had…performed admirably, for a newbie to the entire process.

It was tough to teach her, Summer realized. Back in Beacon, Summer had always just assumed Raven to be an unmotivated slacker, but seeing her struggle to imitate the pattern in which a cloth was wrapped around a baby to avoid it coming undone from any movement or rustling.

The lesson itself was fine. Raven followed Summer along, and she even replicated the process around the sack of potatoes (they now actually had one, instead of a pillow; Summer had named the potato baby 'Spud'). Everything seemed like it might be going well, and then an hour later, Ray had asked Summer to see what was wrong with Yang.

The two of them gathered around a baby rolled up into a little burrito, gently set on the kitchen table, and Summer realized that Raven's issue lay in retention.

"I did it just like you said," Raven tried to explain. "Just like…w-well, I thought I did."

It wasn't uncomfortable for Yang, but if she just rolled to the side, she would immediately be freed. Raven may as well have just not swaddled her at all.

"Okay," Summer said, removing the cloth. "This is okay. We can still do this. The problem is not with you, I think. I just need to…give better lessons."

Maybe not better lessons, but certainly lessons in a differing style. Maybe if Ray learned something then regularly was tested or examined on her aptitude, she wouldn't forget it so quickly. Sporadic periods of instruction after a long day's work wasn't going to cut it. A lesson plan would need to be made, a concerted curriculum to follow…

Summer's lessons is going to become Summer's school, at this rate.

Again, it was fine. Summer had no other duties to attend to besides the rest of her life, and all that could wait.

Summer wasted no time in getting started, sitting down on one of the couches with a hardcover book, a pen, and a paper. Raven was somewhere, doing who knew what, but as long as Summer had eyes on Yang to know that 'who knew what' wasn't dropping the baby off the roof or something, it didn't matter.

It's her house, and it's her time off. I won't pry.

Single mothers rarely got time off, and Raven had given birth less than a full month ago. Summer was happy to give her a few moments to herself as a break if she felt like she needed them.

She wrote up every little thing she could think of that one might need to know to take care of a baby, mentally proceeding through a hypothetical day with Yang in order to get into the mindset properly. First, they woke up and ate breakfast, got Yang washed and cleaned, changed her diapies, cleaned up her spew when it came out…

When that was done, Summer whipped out her scroll and started performing some research. Most parenting websites assumed you possessed even the most basic of common sense, so they wouldn't be reliable sources of comprehensive coverage, but they could at least give Summer some ideas as starting points, or fill in the gaps if there was anything she missed.

It ended up being futile, as Summer's own knowledge of parenting, that which she'd picked up working with orphans, foster houses, and the occasional struggling family in need of a helping hand, was better than any foreign source. Unlike the people who wrote those articles for the most general audience possible, Summer had experience from specific cases. A big baby would be different than a little one, just as a polite baby wouldn't bear many similarities to a crier.

At some points, the advice she saw in online advice columns was so poor or downright outdated and wrong that Summer was tempted to write in to the website and chide them for distributing it. She reminded herself that there was a more precarious situation of problematic parenting going on, one much closer to her right now, that demanded her attention. Leaving a comment explaining the error was enough to still her fluttering heart, and then it was back to the list.

So many lists, and all so long. We have To Do Lists for Yang's growth and To Do Lists for Raven's education. All that's left is one for me, and we complete the chain.

Checking the clock, Summer realized that nearly two hours had passed since she'd last seen Raven, but the really telling thing was the fact that the sun had set already.

Where is that gal? Come to think of it, I don't even remember her checking in or anything. Is she even in the house anymore?

Yang was resting in her crib, the one surely safe place for her, but Summer made sure to tear a brief corner off the paper she'd been writing on and leave a note. It was just a little something to tell Raven not to take her out or wake her up without checking with Summer first.

I'd call myself overly paranoid about this, but I wasn't the one who saw Raven performing carpentry in front of her kid. Well, I was, but…I know what I mean.

Raven had lent her a spare key to the house (Summer carefully averted her eyes to the last name inscribed on the small copper-colored object), so there was no room she couldn't enter. Thus, Summer was particularly baffled when she went through every room and still couldn't find Raven.

"Ray?" she called after double-checking that Yang's door was shut. "You here? You…anywhere?"

There was no response.

Okay. Stay calm, Summer. She probably just went into town to drop off some more resumes. She does that every day, and it's a perfectly logical explanation for why its taking so long. The walk is a long one, and Ray's just taking her time to enjoy the forest scenery. Hmmm, I wonder if it might be worthwhile to buy us a car. But then Raven needs to pay for insurance, fuel, maintenance – and who knows how long I'd be around to foot the bills?

Summer briefly stepped outside to see if Raven might have just been out in the woods, chopping down trees or something. The house did have internal heating in addition to a fireplace, but Summer wasn't blind to the existing stack of firewood, each log carefully slip into a neat pile and leaned against the far side of the house. The stack was far too neat to have been made by the slovenly Raven, and Summer hadn't seen Ray use any of that wood. Whether that was out of neglect or scorn, she knew not.

Gods, his influence is just…everywhere. Maybe instead of a car I should just buy Raven a new house. At least it would come with a truly fresh start.

Summer had to admit that she did kind of resent this little shack that she'd been forced to stay in. Not just because it lacked the amenities she'd come to take for granted in the city – it certainly did, but that wasn't the reason.

Two of her teammates, two of the friends who'd told Summer they'd all be together forever, had voluntarily fled to this place. Summer had no idea how life on Patch could be so much better for Raven and for Taiyang than the life they'd said they would share evermore as the Starks.

They'd chosen each other, sure, and Summer couldn't begrudge the then-couple staying together. But at the heart of it, they'd explicitly not chosen Summer. And that hurt.

Enough. Enough. I've made my own mistakes, many of them, so I won't begrudge Ray her singular flub. It probably wasn't even intentional, what she did to me, whatever the reason.

Raven's absence was still an issue, so Summer just dialed her scroll to see if she could get through to her.

"Huh," Summer said to herself. "Busy? Who could she be calling?"

A little patch of worry started to come into being within Summer, but she quashed it as best she could. Just like Raven deserving whatever free time she'd earned, she also deserved her own privacy.

But who could…who was there even for her to call? Raven had, like, four connections in the entire world.

"Stop it," Summer harshly ordered herself. "Stop it. You're a guest in her home, even if you're the one doing her a favor. You don't get to treat Raven with less respect because she owes you."

Yang was tucked away, and Raven was gone, so Summer had almost nothing for herself to do. The house was clean, and she didn't really feel like more and more chores just to pass the time.

Maybe now could be a good time for her to catch up on the outside world? Summer's scroll was already out, so a quick call to Qrow wouldn't hurt.

Summer could've cried in relief.

"Oh, thank the Brothers," she said. "Thank gods."

Qrow's line was also busy. It wasn't definitive proof, but it may as well have been given the unlikelihood of the antisocial Branwens both being on call at the same time.

They were just calling each other. They weren't…she wasn't…

At the back of her heart, in the blackest pit of darkness within herself that Summer could barely even risk acknowledging for fear of making it even the tiniest bit realer in her own head, there had been fear. Fear that Raven was calling her husband.

Her ex-husband. And it's not my problem if she is or isn't. It's her relationship, and I shouldn't stand in the way of closure.

But Summer knew that if Tai returned, her use would be over. Raven would say thanks and goodbye, and all of the effort she'd put in, all of the hope she'd had for reconciling with her wayward teammate, would blow away in the autumn breeze. Summer had a captive audience, one that needed her, and she…she needed it right back.

And there was more to it than just the selfish component. Well, more than just that particular selfish component, for her other interest in the matter was also selfish.

It was impossible to truly explain, not without sounding like some interloping old maid or meddlesome anti-matchmaker, but something would be lost if Raven fell back into Tai's arms. Maybe it was respect, or maybe it would be self-respect, or maybe it was something else entirely, but the thought of them getting back together didn't sit right with Summer. It would be like the evil industrialist bulldozing the state park, or the villains of a cheap blockbuster kids movie emerging victorious over the protagonists. It just wasn't how the story was supposed to end.

Even if he crawled back, begging for forgiveness, I'm not sure that I'd accept it. That I'd advise Raven to accept it, that is.

The thought of Tai waltzing back in and just…just…just taking Raven back, it was abhorrent. Summer wouldn't let it happen.

"Hey, Sum."

Summer smiled as the front door opened. "Ray, you're back!"

"Yeah. Went for a flight. Saw you called me."

It took a second for Summer to remember that Raven could transform into her namesake. That one was still a bit tough to wrap her head around. She also had no idea why Oz had given the powers to only two members of Team Stark when he explicitly said the magic it required of him was negligible.

I mean, I'm not named after an animal, but you don't have to have an animal name to…w-wait, do you? It is wizardy, and taken names can be sealed and stuff there if you go by fae lore. Maybe it really is only Raven that can turn into a raven. Or would I turn into the embodiment of the summer season?

"Sum? You called?"

"Huh?" Summer snapped back to the conversation and to Raven. "Oh, yeah. You didn't come home for a bit, and I was wondering where you were."

"I left a note on the door," Raven said, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with the tap.

"It must've fallen off."

Raven shook her head. "It's still there."

As her teammate gulped down liquid, Summer looked over at front of the house. True enough, there was a small note…on the outside face of the door.

"Ray…oh, never mind. Hey, so…uh, don't mean to pry, but…it said you were calling someone else when I called…?"

Relax, Summer. It's not weird to ask. It would be weird if I didn't ask, given that I have a completely innocuous reason for knowing.

"Qrow," Raven murmured, even though Summer already knew (she wasn't going to reveal that, though, as it would doubtlessly appear to be stalking). "I wanted him to…to act as a bridge. Talk to Tai-Ta– to Taiyang for me."

Summer could've dropped dead. "W-What?"

There was much more ice in her voice than she'd intended, but this was a betrayal of the highest order! Raven had gone and – he left her! How was Summer the one bothered by this and not the scorned wife with an abandoned infant?

"Qrow says that Taiyang says that I can keep the house." Raven downed the last of her water. "That we can keep the house, I guess."

"W-We?" Summer asked, unsure what she'd done to earn a deed to real estate in an island she'd never even seen before two months ago.

"Yang 'n' me. Apparently, Tai was just so eager to jump back into the hunting that he's willing to leave the world behind to do it, cabins included."

Summer gulped. "So…"

"Yeah?" Raven looked over at her.

"You didn't…?"

"Didn't what?"

It was too much. Raven, somehow as naïve and innocent as she was battle-hardened and street-smart, didn't know what Summer was asking. She hadn't even considered returning to her husband, and Summer refused to be the one to plant the idea in her head.

"Didn't tell your brother I said hi," Summer mumbled. "It's fine."

"Oh. I can call him back if –"

"Nah, you're right. It's…fine."

It's fine, Summer repeated to herself within the sanctity and privacy of her own mind. I'm fine. Everything's fine.

Fine was the perfect word to describe this situation. It was acceptable and good, as long as you were willing to stomach the bare minimum. Summer was torn between desperately wanted to leave and being unwilling to part with her new home, she had no idea how to fix Raven's many problems even though she'd vowed to take as long as she needed to do so, and she couldn't even bring herself to voice her own irrational fears aloud.

Fine.

Author's Notes

Summer may not be perfect...? What witchcraft is this, and who could've guessed it?

Happy rats, and don't do crime!