Chapter Text
Jumping from the ship had been a sound tactical decision for Clover. A chance that he’s taken time and time again, his luck always pulling through for him. He had hoped when the ship went down it would incapacitate all those inside, but as he got to his feet after a smooth landing, he caught sight of billowing red cape and the incredibly beautiful face it belonged to. He sighed as he realized, even he wasn’t that lucky.
Qrow seemed a bit disoriented, but otherwise unharmed, swaying only slightly as he caught sight of Robyn lying unconscious by the plane and ran over to check on her, his shoulders sagging with relief when he found her breathing. Clover really didn’t want to fight Qrow, he was his friend. Maybe even something more. But General Ironwood had made his orders clear, and he had never lead Clover astray before. So, with a heavy heart he called out, “Robyn needs help. Surrender, and we can take her to Atlas, get her patched up.”
Clover knew he had a duty, knew what he was doing was right, had to be right. Ironwood has always been able to see the bigger picture, and do what needed to be done. If he was ordering Qrow’s arrest there had to be a reason. That didn’t stop his heart from sinking when Qrow reached down and withdrew Harbinger, transforming it into a scythe. It didn’t stop the hurt in his chest when Qrow replied, “Never pegged you for the manipulative type, but I’ve learned a lot of things tonight.”
Clover’s heart lurched, part of him wanting to beg Qrow not to make him do this, and part of him wanting to lash out and hurt the man just as much as he was hurting Clover. At war with himself, he settled on the truth, “I enjoyed working with you, you know. Even with that endless cynicism of yours.” He hoped Qrow would recall all the time they had spent together in these last few months and come to his senses, but he was only met with more disappointment when Qrow replied, “I’m usually proven right.”
“We don’t have to fight, friend.” Clover really didn’t want to do this. Why was Qrow forcing his hand? Why couldn’t he just follow orders?
“You don’t know my friends” Qrow softened, sadness radiating off of him. “That’s how it always goes.” Sighing, Clover bent into a fighting stance and charged Qrow, who wasted no time in returning the gesture. The sound of their weapons clashing loud enough to knock any hesitation out of Clover. The two of them were evenly matched, good luck vs bad luck, canceling each other out and leaving only their skills. Back and forth they went, Clover would move to strike, and Qrow would block him almost effortlessly, moving straight into an attack which Clover easily dodged. Months of training together meant they knew each other inside and out. Clover could predict Qrow’s next attack from even the slightest movement, and he was sure that Qrow was doing the same. Harbinger came slashing out at Clover, who forcefully redirected the blade with kingfisher’s pole, Clover dodged to the side, where Qrow had left himself exposed, landing a hit directly in his face.
Qrow only used the momentum to swing around, bringing harbingers blade quickly toward Clover’s face, who only just managed to get Kingfisher up in time to block the blow. Qrow continued his assault, but Clover had regained his footing and blocked every hit, jumping over the scythe when Qrow attempted to sweep at his feet, but not quite able to avoid Qrow’s foot coming up to kick him in the abdomen. Launched back a few feet, Clover quickly steadied himself, preparing to charge right back into the fight, only to catch sight of Tyrian, fully free of his bindings. “Don’t stop on my account,” he cackled. In front of him, Qrow tensed before spinning on his heel and aiming an attack at the faunas. “Wasn’t planning on it”
Qrow quickly became so enraptured in the fight against Tyrian that he had seemingly forgotten all about Clover. Lucky him, he could work with this. Clover drew back Kingfisher and threw his line, hooking the handle of Harbinger and giving it a mighty tug. Qrow almost lost hold of the weapon, but managed to keep his grip, bringing the handle up to block Clover’s next attack. Qrow’s face filled with betrayal and Clover felt a tugging at his heart, which he mercilessly crushed. He couldn’t afford this weakness right now. As he charged to attack Qrow again, Tyrian jumped into the fight, keeping up with the two of them until a perfectly timed hit sent Clover flying backwards. Luckily, he landed smoothly, taking a second to get to his feet.
“You and me have a score to settle” What was he talking about? Had the two of them met before? Clover had thought Qrow’s first introduction to Tyrian had been on election night, same as his.
“Oh, I agree. So, what’s say we put the kid to bed and then finish it?” Clover glanced at Qrow, face hardening. He wouldn’t… But Qrow said nothing, just began charging forward. Clover knew he couldn’t wait to find out who he was aiming for, he threw his line, hooking Harbingers handle once again, before leaping off of Tyrian’s back and twisting in the air. With all of his strength, Clover tugs the line, feeling it slacken a bit as Harbinger is finally pulled from Qrow’s grip and goes flying across the snow. Cover seizes the opportunity and charges at his former friend, only to be hit by a moment of bad luck, causing him to lose his footing mid step and slip on the icy ground of the tundra sliding passed Qrow, who uses his moment of weakness to wrench Kingfisher out of his hand.
Clover lands roughly on his knees, before slowly rising to his feet and trying to catch his breathe. “Why couldn’t you just do the right thing? Instead of the thing you were told!”
“Sometimes the right decision is the hardest to make.” Didn’t Qrow see that? Why didn’t he understand, if the general didn’t make a sacrifice, they might lose everything! He’s just trying to protect as many people as he can, not just in Atlas, but in all of Remnant. “I trust James with my life! I wanted to trust you- “
“And I did trust you Clover! I thought you cared about me. Just my luck, huh. I should have known better. There will never be a place for me, I’m better off alone. That way I can’t hurt anyone, and no one can hurt me.” Qrow’s voice cracked on the last word, and it broke Clover’s heart to hear. This isn’t what he wanted. This shouldn’t be happening. It wasn’t fair-
Something flashed in the corner of his eye. “Qrow, get down!”. Clover is running forward, desperate to stop what he knows is about to happen. Unfortunately, Clover’s warning came seconds to late, and he can see Qrow just barely has time to process his words before there’s a sickening squishing sound and Harbinger becomes visible through the abdomen of its owner. Qrow looks up at him wide-eyed, red meeting teal for just a moment, before Tyrian yanks the sword out of its master, cackling like a madman.
No. Nonononononono. This can’t be happening. That didn’t happen. Qrow was supposed to be arrested, he wasn’t supposed to be hurt. He wasn’t supposed to be bleeding out in the tundra. “Looks like your boyfriends not going to make it. A pity, he was such a lovely plaything, too.” Tyrian’s sadistic grin fills his vision.
“What have you done?”
“Oh, my dear Clover, you’re asking all the wrong questions. It’s not about what I did. It’s about what you let me do. Why, I never would have managed to disarm him without your help.” Nausea overcomes Clover, his stomach twisting painfully. “I didn’t mean... it wasn’t my fault.”
“Of course not. After all, you were just following orders.” With that, Tyrian took off, dropping Harbinger into the quickly reddening snow by Qrow’s body. Clover rushes over, immediately calling for a med evac and reinforcements. “Hold on Qrow, please. Just hold on. Help is on the way.” But his pleading falls on deaf ears, as Qrow lays their unconscious, every weak heartbeat and shallow breathe potentially his last. Was Qrow always this pale? Were the bags under his eyes always this deep? Oh gods, this is his fault. If Qrow dies here it will be his fault and the last thing that he will ever have seen is Clover attacking him. He’ll die believing he is unworthy of love and that Clover wanted him gone.
He doesn’t know how long he sits there begging the universe not to take him away. Clover just found him; he can’t lose him. Not now, not so soon. Not when so much is broken between them, when he never got to tell him. He should have told him, and now he might never be able to.
By the time the medics arrive on scene, Clover’s hands are covered in blood and his eyes wet with tears. He distantly hears the ship land, but can’t find it in him to look away from Qrow’s face. As if Qrow will disappear if he takes his eyes off of him for even a moment. Hands begin to tug at his chest and he realized absently that he’s in the way, they can’t save Qrow if he’s standing there and he shoots away so fast, he thinks he might get whip lash. But he still can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the bloody body of the man he’s grown to love. The man he’s just destroyed.
A loud, stiff “Captain Ebi” has him breaking out of his trance. A lower ranking officer is standing in front of him, “They’ll take good care of huntsman Branwen, sir. But right now, the general needs you, I’m to escort you back to Atlas.” Clover takes a deep breath, then one last look back at where Qrow is being rushed into an airship, before following the officer into his own. He sits down on the bench and tries to pull himself together, but whenever he closes his eyes all he can see is Qrow’s wide eyes staring in shock as he is stabbed through the gut. And suddenly Clover is crying again. Please, he thinks, please, when all this is over, bring him home to me.