Chapter Text
Oscar presses his fingers to his temples, rubbing in fast circles. “Ugh, I hate this! I want it to stop!”
“That bastard!” Yang shouts angrily, “Tell him we aren’t done yet!” She stomps toward where Oscar is slouched against the tree, fully prepared to give him a piece of her mind.
The poor boy raises a hand in front of his face in a feeble attempt to protect his already smarting body. “No, he’s gone. Gone, gone. It’s like he’s locked himself deep inside my head. Our head?”
Yang leaps forward, and Qrow barely has time to snag her robotic arm before she can strangle the kid. “Yang,” he says gruffly as she tries to jerk away. That’s my little firecracker, Short Stack’s voice echoes. “Yang!”
She whips around to glare at him, “We deserve to know Uncle Qrow! We deserve to know what he thinks gives him the right to-”
“I couldn’t agree more!” Qrow cuts her off. Gods, he knows better than anyone. Qrow’s emotions are running higher than ever. How the fuck could Ozpin not have considered sharing this vital piece of information important?! Qrow had dedicated his life to Ozpin, to the protection of humanity via the defeat of Salem. Nobody had wanted him: a curse. When Ozpin gave him a purpose? A chance to do some good in the world? He had jumped at the opportunity. His entire existence has been a sham. He’d trained to be a hunter, worked his way to the top, and eventually gotten accepted as part of Ozpin’s elite team. He’d defeated countless Grimm, spent years of his life on missions, and he’s given up so much. He lost his wife. He’d almost lost his daughter. He turns back to his niece, pausing to take a steeling breath. “Attacking Oscar isn’t going to help anyone.” Qrow’s teeth clench involuntarily and he has to consciously relax his jaw in order to speak. “Oz isn’t just gonna ‘show back up,’” he raises his hands in quotations, “He’s in hiding… the coward.”
“He just left us?” Weiss asks, shaking her head in disbelief. She looks as lost as Qrow feels. Fucking hell. Why should he bother trying to fight Salem at all anymore? What’s the point?
Why can’t it all just end?
He takes out his flask, swigging several gulps of the haze-inducing liquid. Do it for Ruby, Summer pesters him. If not for you, then for our daughter. He wishes that she would just shut up, that he could be selfish for once.
“What are we gonna do now?!” Blake panics, and Qrow doesn’t miss how Yang twitches at her distress, going to her side to comfort the girl. Keep an eye on those two, Short Stack warns. Qrow nods absentmindedly. She’s been more talkative lately, and he’s been drinking more. He has a way to drown out the racket of his brain, and for that, he is grateful.
“Children, children, calm down,” Maria chides, “We all have done things we are ashamed of. We all make mistakes.” She stares pointedly at Qrow, causing him to blush and rub at the back of his neck. “Maybe Ozpin will come back, maybe not. That’s not the point. The point is that I am surrounded by the most capable young hunters and huntresses in decades, and I believe that we have the will to move forward, to make our own decisions. We don’t need someone to do that for us.”
“So what’s the plan?” Ruby pipes up from where she is seated next to Oscar, him leaning on her shoulder. “Do we continue on our journey to Atlas? Should we?”
“Do we have a choice?” Blake asks, curled against Yang’s side in a similar fashion to Oscar. “What else can we do with the relic?”
Qrow supposes she has a point. Even if Salem can’t be defeated, that doesn’t mean they can’t delay the inevitable. Quite frankly, Qrow wouldn’t mind if the immortal witch unleashed her hellish wrath on him, but he does give a shit about the people he cares for. He gives a shit about Ruby. “I think the kid’s right,” Qrow agrees, “We should get the relic to Atlas. One more thing to slow Salem down.”
“Are you guys serious right now?!” Weiss screeches indignantly. She begins talking slowly, as if explaining something to a small child. “Ozpin is bad, yes?” Qrow and Oscar wince at the same time. “We should do the opposite of what he tells us to do. If Ozpin wants us to deliver the relic to Atlas, then shouldn’t we, I don't know, not do that?”
“Weiss is right,” Yang admits, “I don’t think we should take the relic exactly where the guy who lied to us tells us to. We can’t trust Ozpin anymore!”
Ruby and Oscar look up from where they have been whispering to one another. “Wouldn’t the relic be safest with Ironwood though? I mean, we don’t want Salem to get her hands on it, do we?” Ruby queries.
“Jimmy is probably the one who would protect it best,” Qrow grants, “Plus, Ozpin may be a liar, but he’s not stupid.”
Weiss puffs out her chest furiously. “How can you-”
“Enough!” Maria snaps, halting a brewing argument. “We need to get a move on! It’ll be dark before we know it, and every one of you is spewing negativity!” She blinks her ancient prosthetic eyes at the snowy woods around them. “There’s a trail over there. Trails usually lead somewhere.” Qrow smirks at her dry humor. Who is this quirky old woman that seems completely unfazed by their unusual company, or their current predicament?
Yang frowns frustratedly, “Lady, I don’t know who you think you are, but-”
Maria slams her skull wrought cane into the ground with a thump, cutting the girl off. “No buts! I understand that you’re upset. Honestly, I’m still coming to terms with the fact that this is humanity’s second time around.” Qrow looks at his feet. ‘Still coming to terms with’ indeed. “But if we don’t move, we die. And I’ll be damned if I lived this long just to die out here in the cold!”
“No, she’s right,” Ruby declares, with her usual sense of natural-born leadership. “C’mon.”
Qrow makes himself useful by packing what they’ve managed to salvage from the train, finishing and closing the lid on the last portable container.
“I’m just going to be another one of his lives, aren’t I?” Oscar sighs from across the clearing.
“Of course not,” Ruby assures him, taking his hands in hers. “You’re your own person.”
“Don’t lie to him Ruby,” Qrow growls, tipping his head back to down more alcohol. “We’re better than that.”
After a bit of a trek and more than a bit of bickering, they make it to a farm, swathed in the heady scent of death and mystery.
“This is creepy,” Weiss states the obvious.
“No shit,” Qrow grumbles, moving towards the fire pit to get some warmth in the ghost house. “We’d better all eat and rest up, hopefully the storm will have let up by tomorrow and we can get a move on.” He turns to face the group, “Who wants to go look for food?”
“We will,” Ruby volunteers, dragging a reluctant Weiss with her deeper into the dark house.
“Yang, wanna go scout out the other buildings?” He waves his hand at the door. “See if we can find something useful to get us out of here tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Yang nods, somewhat distrustfully, which, fair. He didn’t really expect her to get over the whole I’m-Ruby’s-dad thing so soon.
The two step out into the harsh wind, and Qrow pulls down his sleeves a little further from where they had ridden up previously. Off to the right is a shed, burdened by snow, and making strange whistling noises every time a particularly strong gust slips through the old, leaky windows. Qrow sets off in that direction, hoping that it will hold something useful, like a way to transport seven people (if you didn’t count Oz). They walk in silence, the tension growing with every crunching footfall, but deign to acknowledge it until they reach the shed, stomping off their boots as they assess the inside. “Yang, I’m-” apologizing has never been easy for Qrow, but he pushes through as best he can, wanting his niece to know that he means it. “I’m sorry I lied about… y’know.” As best he can doesn’t mean ‘good.’
Yang turns on him. Oh boy, says Short Stack, this kettle is about to boil over. “Qrow, you’ve been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, and I’ve trusted you wholeheartedly, without question! Now I’m starting to think mom was right; Question everything.” Her fists clench violently, sick smile bitter, but Qrow doesn’t interrupt. He thinks that she needs to get this out. “Isn’t that sad? The woman who abandoned me might just know better than her liar brother who unfortunately stuck around.” Qrow flinches, but he still doesn’t say anything. She’s right, he supposes. “I know that Ruby’s forgiven you already, and I want to as well, I really do,” she sweeps a strand of hair out of her eyes, “But sometimes I think that Ruby forgives too easily.” A cold bolt runs up his spine. What can he do to fix all the pain he’s causing this poor girl by turning her world upside down? “Y’know what Ruby called me the other day? She said, ‘Cuz, back me up!’ and I cried.” Yang wipes away a stray tear now, seemingly offended by its mere presence. “Not a lot, and not in front of her of course,” she defends herself, “but I still cried. I just don’t understand how you think you can swoop in after all these years and suddenly get to be her dad again! Tai is the one who raised her, he’s the one she should be calling ‘dad.’ You stole my sister!” There’s some snot running down her face now, and the waterworks have really begun. “You think that your semblance can justify this, but it doesn’t! That’s not a reason to lie to your kid!” Her breath is shuddering out in harsh gasps now, and Qrow is preparing to… who knows, apologize? Whenever he attempts to diffuse an emotionally charged situation he tends to wing it. Maybe not the best policy. “You know, maybe you and your sister are more alike than you realize,” she practically spits at his feet in disdain, her mood swinging all over the place like some strange tree-dwelling Grimm.
Qrow knows his eyes are wide with shock, and when he goes to her, wrapping her in a comforting hug, she doesn’t pull away. Fatherly instincts he supposes. “Have you been keeping all this bottled up this whole time?” His voice holds an edge of disbelief- Yang doesn’t deserve to go through all this. Guilt coils deep in his gut, burning hotter and hotter, begging to be relieved in some way, but he ignores it. This isn’t about him. For fucking once, Summer adds. “You should talk to Ruby about this. Yang, she- she doesn’t think any differently of you just because you are a bit more distant by blood. Family isn’t assigned. It’s chosen.”
Yang wipes her nose on her sleeve, stepping back quickly. Afraid to be vulnerable. Seems to be a Branwen family trait, Summer muses, and he can imagine the little smirk that would play across her lips if she were here. “What would you know about good relationships between siblings?” Yang mocks, somewhat deflated now, as if all of her fight is dissipating now that her anger has subsided.
It stings, but Qrow’s heard worse. He knows what people have said about ‘the bad luck charm and his crazy cult sister’ behind his back- he’s not stupid. And now he’s remembering why he drinks. Reaching into his shirt for his flask he says, “I’ve learned from my mistakes, kid, but they’ve already been made. Just tryin’ to give you a little pre-warning.” Tipping his head back for a gulp, he ignores the strange face Yang is making at him.
“Is-” she begins hesitantly, but Qrow makes no move to stop her, spurring her to continue. “Is that why you drink? Because of her?” Qrow tilts his head in confusion, and maybe a bit at the buzzing feeling that’s slurring his thoughts. Because of Raven? Yang spots his puzzled expression right away, clarifying. “Summer Rose. Is that why you drink?”
Qrow hangs his head. Fucking hell, if his emotionally awkward niece could read him that easily, he must be an open fucking book. His throat suddenly feels dry and scratchy at the mention of Short Stack, he hasn’t really heard anyone say her name out loud besides himself, sobbing it alone, in the dark, when no one was around to be nosing into his private affairs and his mourning. He remembers her funeral. It was somber, just him, Tai, the girls, and a few close family members and friends. No body. No casket. Just some white sheets and a bunch of aimless wanderers attempting to hold back their tears and choke their way through stories of their loved one. Qrow had left mid-service, unwilling to stare those he cared about in the eyes and admit that she was gone. That he was never going to see the light of his life again. After he left, unprepared for the chill of a crisp and persistent breeze, Qrow made his way to a pub, unthinking as his feet carried him where they would. That was the night he started drinking. When Tai found him the next morning, passed out on the street, unresponsive save for the violent shivers that wracked his whole body? That was also the day he started hearing her voice in his head. He knew it wasn’t real, and, lacking a better way to muffle her, he reached for his mostly empty beer bottle, feeling weak in his trembling, hypothermic state. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on his will to live on any particular day) Tai hauled him up, getting him medical attention and sending the girls to stay with an in-town friend while he spent a few days nursing Qrow back to health. Afterward, Qrow felt awful. He was definitely unfit to be a father, despite what Short Stack had to say in protest, but he couldn’t quite shake the drinking habit that formed. He began carrying alcohol on his person at all times, and soon he was intoxicated just as much, preferring the numbness to the company of his own tumultuous mind. Qrow corrected Ruby when he saw her - Uncle Qrow, Squirt - even if his heart broke a little every time he did so. Qrow would still give his life for Yang or Ruby without a second thought or a missed beat, but then again, he was reluctant to preserve it anyway many days. Oz had continued to give him a purpose at least, something to live for, something to work towards, but now even that was gone, replaced by a gaping hole that he’s only ever known one way to fill: alcohol. He’d probably be half-dead and wasted right now, frozen out in the middle of the woods if not for the kids and their strange new addition of Maria Calavera. He doesn’t know much about Maria, but her name seems somewhat familiar, and he doesn’t think that she is particularly dangerous, no matter what she has claimed about not being defenseless. He supposes he’ll have to ask her la-
“Uncle Qrow?” he is jerked out of his train of thought by Yang’s sharp voice, quickly reminding him that he is standing in an uninsulated shed in the middle of a snowstorm. Also, he is with his niece. Who’s serious and possibly important (?) question he can now not remember.
“Hmm?” he hums reflexively, trying not to betray how out-of-focus his brain is currently, and trying to remember what she had asked him. “What’s up?” Fuck. His throat was still scratchy.
“I…” her eyebrows scrunch and she suddenly looks a whole lot like her mother, “asked if you drink because of Summer Rose.”
Qrow nods his head slowly. He knows Tai, Ozpin, and a select few others know this, but he hadn’t explicitly told them. He hadn’t explicitly told anyone. “Yeah,” he half croaks, feeling itchy all over, like he does whenever he tries to talk about her. He wishes he could just disappear, drift away with the cold draft whistling through the windows and not come back. Instead, he lifts his gaze, forcing himself to make eye contact with her, “Yeah, that's why I drink.”
For a moment, Yang just stares at him somewhat dumbstruck, obviously not expecting the sincere answer that he had given. Qrow was a joking kind of guy. It kept a wall up between him and the world, and he liked it that way, thank you very much. It was rare that he let his guard down long enough for someone to actually come in, no longer deterred by his deflective yet self-deprecating humor, truly a lousy distraction if anyone bothered to look closely. Like Ozpin had done. That manipulative fucking bastard. Qrow thinks that maybe it’s not very healthy of him to drink like he does for the reasons that he does, and yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have made some of the decisions he did, but it’s all in the past now, and Qrow isn’t keen on reliving it. Yang sits down with her back to a thin wooden wall, patting the space next to her in invitation. When Qrow joins her, she leans into him a little, just like Ruby had done after she found out she was his daughter. Yang needs support, something tangible to ground her, and probably some therapy if Qrow’s going to be honest. Gods, they all could do with a little therapy. Or a lot. A lot would probably be best. “You miss her.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Qrow can’t deny it.
“More than you know, kid.”
She leans in a little further, resting her head on his shoulder now and letting out a soft sigh. “Me too.” They’re quiet for a while, marinating in their own thoughts and each other’s company, neither willing to break the spell that has fallen over them. After who knows how long (minutes… hours?) Qrow feels a shiver run through Yang and she curses. “It’s this damn arm. Gets cold faster- chills my whole body.”
Qrow nods sympathetically. “Well, we should get going anyway, the others are gonna start wondering soon and we haven't even checked out the barn yet.”
Yang stands up, brushing the dirt off her pants. “I don’t think that there’s anything useful in here, we might as well.” Back to her tough, untouchable persona. Qrow knows all about that.
They explore the other buildings, finding dried husks of people still tucked under their covers, a whole lot of rats, and, most importantly, a trailer that Yang thinks could be hooked up to Bumblebee to transport them all to Atlas. Then, the two trek back to the house with their news, the mood between them much different from when they had left. If anyone notices, they wisely decide to hold their tongue.