Dream, Flashback

The soft hum of a summer breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of pine and the distant laughter of children.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden streaks over the clearing where Yang ran through the grass, giggling as she held Baby Ruby in her arms. The baby squealed, tiny hands reaching for her sister's blonde locks, her silver eyes wide with innocent wonder.

Qrow stood a few steps away, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with a quiet expression. He exhaled, taking a sip from his flask before tucking it back into his coat.

"You're staring again," came a voice beside him.

He smirked without looking. "Didn't know that was a crime."

Summer Rose chuckled, leaning against the tree beside him. The wind played with her cloak, causing the deep red fabric to ripple like a banner. Her silver eyes, so much like Ruby's, watched her daughters with a warmth Qrow wasn't sure he had ever possessed.

"It's not," she admitted. "But when you do it, I know it means something's on your mind."

Qrow clicked his tongue. "Tch. Since when did you start reading me like a book?"

"Since forever." She smiled. "So? What is it?"

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the horizon. "Just thinking."

Summer sighed, tilting her head. "That's never a good sign."

"Funny." He scoffed, but his voice lacked any real bite. "I'm just... wondering how you do it."

"Do what?"

He gestured vaguely. "This. Everything. Raising a family. Fighting the good fight. Keeping your head up when you know the world's just waiting to knock you down."

Summer was quiet for a moment. Then, she let out a soft chuckle. "Well, if you think I have it all figured out, you're giving me way too much credit."

He glanced at her, skeptical. "Really? Because it sure as hell looks like you do."

Summer's smile softened, but there was something behind it—something distant. She turned back to watch Yang twirl Ruby in the air, the baby's laughter ringing through the trees.

"I do it because I have to," she said finally. "For them. For Tai. For you."

Qrow flinched. "Me?"

"You're my family too, you know." She nudged his shoulder playfully, though her tone remained serious. "I don't want you to be alone, Qrow."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Alone's kinda my thing, Summer."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

He blinked at her bluntness. "Wow. Summer Rose swearing. The world really is ending."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't last. "I mean it, Qrow. You've always pushed people away because you think it's safer. Because you think your semblance makes it necessary. But you don't have to go through life like this. You can—" She hesitated.

Qrow frowned. "I can what?"

Summer opened her mouth, then closed it, her expression troubled. A breeze passed between them, rustling the grass.

Finally, she said, "Just... promise me something, okay?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Summer."

"Promise me you'll take care of them. If something happens to me—"

"Don't." Qrow's voice came out sharper than intended. "Don't talk like that."

Summer exhaled, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Qrow."

"No." His jaw clenched. "You're not going anywhere. You hear me? Don't talk like you're going to die anytime soon."

She studied him for a long moment before giving him a sad smile. "Heh.. I suppose.."

Qrow said nothing.

Instead, he looked back at the two girls in the clearing, their laughter still filling the air. His hands clenched into fists.

Summer's hand brushed against his arm. "Just promise me, okay?"

He didn't want to. He hated this. The way she was talking—like she knew something he didn't. Like she had already decided her fate.

But when he looked at her... he saw it.

Resolve.

Acceptance.

Like she had already made peace with it.

He swallowed. His voice was hoarse when he finally muttered:

"...Yeah. I promise."

Summer smiled, her silver eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

Little did Qrow know that it was their last conversation before Summer was gone.

She opened her mouth to say something else—

But then—

A loud honk tore through the air.

The scene blurred.

The clearing vanished in an instant, like sand slipping through his fingers.

Everything went dark.

Reality

Qrow woke up with a gasp.

His breath came ragged and uneven. His limbs felt heavy, his skull throbbing with a dull, relentless ache.

Concrete. The rough texture of it pressed against his back. The alleyway was damp, the scent of wet pavement mixing with the faint stench of alcohol. A dim streetlight buzzed somewhere nearby, casting flickering light over the narrow space.

Cars roared in the distance. Someone shouted in the streets.

Qrow groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

Another blackout.

Another dream.

His hands trembled slightly as he tried to sit up. The weight of Summer's last words still pressed against his chest like an iron chain.

'Promise me you'll take care of them.'

His throat felt dry. He let out a hollow chuckle, running a hand through his messy hair.

"...Sorry, Summer," he muttered.

The wind picked up, cool against his flushed skin. For a moment—just for a fleeting second—he thought he heard laughter.

But when he turned, the alley was empty.

His gaze stayed a little longer on the dark alley—for a second, he thought Summer was there.. But the cold truth is—she's gone.

A bitter exhale left his lips as he slumped back against the cold brick wall, dragging a shaky hand through his unkempt hair. His fingers trembled slightly as they ran over his scalp. Whether from the alcohol or the weight of the past, he wasn't sure anymore.

Somewhere in the distance, the city carried on without him. Cars rolled by, their headlights flashing against the damp pavement. A couple of pedestrians walked past the alley's entrance, their laughter carrying through the streets—bright, warm, alive.

Meanwhile, he sat here.

Reduced to this.

Just another drunken old fool drowning in memories too painful to hold and too stubborn to let go.

Shack, Backyard

Oscar's eyes sparkled with childlike wonder, leaning in as he traced a finger over the smooth, expertly crafted surface of Crescent Rose. "That... is so awesome!" he breathed, his voice practically trembling with excitement.

"RIGHT?!" Ruby's energy practically matched his, her grin splitting ear to ear as she clutched her weapon like a proud parent.

"You mean to tell me..." Oscar pointed at the massive, folded sniper-scythe resting on the workbench, "you built that? Like, with your own hands?"

Ruby huffed, crossing her arms with exaggerated pride. "Yep! Blood, sweat, and lots of coffee went into Crescent Rose! And I mean a lot of coffee!"

"Woah..." Oscar ran his hands along the weapon's frame, feeling the careful craftsmanship in every groove and joint. "That's so cool..."

Ruby beamed. "I know! People usually just see the whole 'big scythe go slice-slice' thing, but there's so much more to it! The custom parts, the mechanics, the weight distribution—ugh, I wish more people got it!"

Oscar let out an amused chuckle. "I mean, I don't know much about weapon-making, but I think I get it." He looked at Ruby, curiosity evident in his golden eyes. "How did you even start building something like this?"

Ruby practically vibrated with excitement as she sat on the workbench, swinging her legs. "Oh man, okay! So when I was younger, I used to tinker with spare parts Dad had lying around. He and Uncle Qrow would let me mess with old weapons, and I kinda just... fell in love with it. And then one day, BAM!" She mimed an explosion with her hands. "I decided to build Crescent Rose!"

Oscar tilted his head. "And just like that you built a high-caliber transforming sniper-scythe?"

Ruby grinned. "Ehhh, it took a few tries."

"A few?"

"Okay, maybe more like twenty tries... and an accidental explosion or two. But hey! Trial and error, right?"

Oscar snorted. "You sound like me trying to fix my cane."

Ruby perked up at that. "Oh! Speaking of which—what are you working on, anyway?"

Oscar hesitated, glancing down at his partially disassembled cane on the workbench. "...Just improving it, I guess."

Ruby's smile dimmed just a little as she caught the slight shift in his tone. "Because of Oz?"

Oscar sighed. "...Yeah. I mean, this cane—it was his. It's his legacy. Every time I use it, it feels like I'm just... following in his footsteps." His fingers ghosted over the metallic surface. "I don't know if I'll ever really be my own person while carrying it."

Ruby watched him for a moment, then hopped off the workbench. "Then why not build something for yourself?"

Oscar blinked. "Huh?"

"You said it yourself! That cane was Ozpin's—so why not make something that's yours?" Ruby gestured at Crescent Rose. "This baby? One hundred percent Ruby Rose, forged with my own two hands. Sure, I learned from Dad and Qrow, but Crescent Rose is mine. You should do the same!"

Oscar chewed on her words, his expression thoughtful.

"Well, start thinking about it, farm boy!" Ruby patted his back. "C'mon, let's brainstorm! What kind of weapon screams Oscar Pine?"

Oscar's brows furrowed. "I mean... I still want to use my cane. It's practical, and it helps with my fighting style. But I do feel like it's missing something."

Ruby leaned on the workbench, thinking. "Hmmm... what if you could combine weapons? Like, what if your cane had an extra function? Something flashy!"

Oscar tapped his chin. "Like what?"

"Okay, okay, hear me out—flamethrowers!"

Oscar's jaw nearly dropped. "What?"

"YES!" Ruby grabbed his shoulders, shaking him lightly. "Imagine it—you're fighting Grimm, and suddenly, whoosh! Fire bursts from your cane, setting them ablaze! Epic!"

Oscar laughed, shaking his head. "You're insane."

"Exactly!" Ruby threw her hands up dramatically.

The two chuckled, the tension from before melting away into genuine laughter.

Oscar looked back at his cane, his fingers running over the worn metal once more—but this time, there was something different in his expression.

His grip tightened, a flicker of determination in his amber eyes. The old doubts, the second-guessing, the feeling that he was just holding onto something that wasn't his—it all fell away.

He looked at his cane.

He felt it.

The tingling within his brain—the rush of inspiration—an idea.

"I... I think I know what to build."

Team JNPR, Nikos Residence, Morning

The early morning sun bathed the quiet street in a golden glow, casting long shadows along the cobblestone path. Team JNPR stood just outside the Nikos residence, their bags slung over their shoulders, ready to return to their assigned duties.

Darius and Helen Nikos stood side by side at the doorstep, watching the young Huntsmen and Huntresses with warm smiles.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like," Helen said, clasping her hands together. "After all, you're Pyrrha's friends, and that makes you family."

"Indeed!" Darius added with a hearty chuckle, crossing his arms. "We'd love to hear more of your adventures over dinner! Nothing like good food and good stories, eh?"

Team JNPR chuckled at the enthusiasm. Pyrrha, standing at the front, took a step toward her parents.

"We'll be heading back to our post now," she said gently. "But I promise, we'll be back later, Mom."

Helen smiled, brushing a strand of Pyrrha's hair back. "That's my girl."

Ren, Jaune, and Nora bowed slightly in unison. "Thank you again for the hospitality, Mr. and Mrs. Nikos!"

"You're always welcome!" Darius said, waving them off. "Good luck on your jobs, young'uns! Make sure to keep my daughter safe out there!"

Pyrrha laughed. "They always do, Dad."

With that, Team JNPR turned and made their way down the street, their boots tapping softly against the pavement as they disappeared into the city.

Helen let out a small, wistful sigh as she watched them leave.

Darius, standing beside her, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. His gaze lingered on Pyrrha's retreating figure. "Our daughter is growing up too quickly..."

Helen chuckled, leaning against him. "She is," she agreed, her eyes soft with love and pride. "But at least she's found her path. That's all we could ask for—for her to live a life that makes her happy."

Darius exhaled through his nose, his usual playful demeanor subdued by the weight of a parent's quiet worries. "Yeah... I just wish it didn't have to be such a dangerous one."

Helen smiled, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "She's strong, Darius. Stronger than either of us were at her age. And she's not alone."

Darius huffed, shaking his head with a small smile. "That Jaune kid better know how lucky he is."

Helen smirked knowingly. "Oh, I think he does."

The two stood there in peaceful silence for a moment longer, watching the sun rise higher over the city.

No matter what the future held, they knew their daughter was ready.

[End]