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The wind howled through the trees, and cold, heavy raindrops bit into Qrow’s face as he squinted into the gale. This wasn’t how this mission was supposed to go. Some of the overland supply runs the last few weeks had seen an increase in sabyr attacks, so he had tracked one of them to its den--a nest of sabyrs in the forests of Solitas’s southern shores. The idea had been for him and Clover to swoop in, clear out the nest, and then come home. They should have been on the ground for no more than twenty minutes, just enough to clear out the Grimm. A quick, easy mission for them to do together. It was supposed to be fun . They hadn’t expected the ursa. Or the second one that had followed it. Or the manticores that had torn the wings from their Manta as they tried to leave, exhausted and ragged from the fight. And they certainly hadn’t predicted this storm. That their radio wasn't working was an absurd final insult.
Qrow assumed the sun was close to setting, based on its height in the sky the last time they had seen it. He couldn’t be sure, though--the heavy storm clouds had blocked the sun for much of the last two hours, casting a dim pallor that had only grown darker as he and Clover hiked through the mountainous terrain, looking for some kind of shelter.
And now, the temperature dropping, the rain had turned to sleet. They needed shelter soon, and the boughs of these pines wouldn’t do, not in this wind. They needed something more steady. The ruins of an abandoned settlement, perhaps, or a hermit’s cabin. Even a large enough rock overhang would do. But these mountains were old, worn too smooth to offer convenient shelter. Qrow cursed his luck.
“Look! There!” Clover shouted over the roar of the wind, pointing ahead in the darkness. He had one bare arm wrapped around his chest, and he was shivering in the cold. Normally, their Auras would have kept them warm. But the fight and the crash had left them depleted. Qrow was also starting to shiver as the icy rain soaked through his clothes. He sighted along Clover’s arm, desperately trying to make out whatever Clover had seen.
“I’m not seeing it!” Qrow replied, shaking his head in frustration.
“That dark patch in the rocks, up that hill!” Clover said. “I think it might be a cave!”
Thank the gods, Qrow thought. If Clover was right, then they would make it through the night. “I’ll follow you; I still don’t see it!” he said.
They hurried through the underbrush with renewed vigour, the prospect of refuge pulling them onward.
The cave was surprisingly spacious--it seemed someone had dug it out of the hillside many years ago. It consisted of a single chamber that extended perhaps six or seven metres from the entrance, the ceiling just high enough for the two men to stand hunched-over. Old timbers had been set into the cave walls where the rough-hewn rock gave way to soil, and a thin layer of charcoal indicated where fires had burned long ago.
“Man, I thought we’d never get out of that rain,” Clover said, removing his pack and rubbing warmth back into his arms.
“Good thing you spotted this place,” Qrow said. “With my luck, we would have walked right past it.”
“This semblance has to be good for something,” Clover replied with a chuckle. “But we still need to warm up. I don’t know about you, but I could use a fire.”
Qrow raised an eyebrow. “That’d be great, but where are we going to find wood? Whoever dug this place didn’t leave any for future travellers.”
Clover shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to go back out and find some, then.”
Qrow shook his head. “Like hell, you are--we just found someplace dry, and now you want to go back out into the storm? How are you going to find dry wood in this rain anyway?”
“We need someplace dry and warm, not just dry,” Clover responded. “Here, lend me Harbinger--we passed some dead trees on the way up the hill. I bet if I cut one down, it won’t have soaked all the way through.”
“I’ll come with you, then,” Qrow said, starting to make his way back to the mouth of the cave. He stopped however when Clover reached out and grabbed his arm.
“Qrow, you’re shaking from the cold,” Clover said, locking eyes with him. “Only one of us needs to go back out there--you should stay here, out of the rain. I’ll be okay, and I’ll be back soon with firewood.”
Qrow hesitated. It had grown quite dark outside, and the storm had only strengthened. He didn’t like staying back, helpless while someone else went into danger. But Clover was right--what use would he be? With his luck, he might make things worse.
“Trust me?” Clover asked, giving Qrow’s arm a light squeeze.
Qrow sighed. “Fine, but take my cloak,” he said begrudgingly. “You need something more than that vest to keep you warm.” He handed Clover his weapon, unpinned his tattered red cloak from his shoulders, and handed it to Clover. Clover took it gratefully, and wrapped it around himself. “If you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m coming after you,” Qrow warned.
Clover winked. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be back soon. Then we’ll have a fire, and we can get out of these wet clothes and warm up.”
At Qrow’s reluctant nod of agreement, Clover turned and walked back out into the storm. Qrow sat against the wall of the cave not far from the entrance, where he could look out and watch for Clover’s return.
He wrapped his arms around himself, and leaned his head against the wall. The damp cold bit through to his bones, and he shuddered, his teeth chattering. Clover was right. They needed warmth, too. Qrow hoped Clover’s luck would bring him back soon--and that his own luck wouldn’t keep him away.
Qrow’s eyelids had started to droop when Clover reappeared, dragging a small tree nearly bereft of pine needles. Qrow’s cloak was tied tightly around one bicep, and in the dim light, Qrow could see wisps of steam rising from Clover’s skin. He paused with the tree halfway into the cave, and began snapping off branches.
Clover turned to Qrow, a broken branch in hand. He held out the broken end. “See?” he said. “Dry inside. Let me just get this thing split up a bit more, and then we’ll have a fire in no time.”
Qrow nodded mutely. His energy had waned even further, or he would have offered to help--but he had to admit, there were advantages to simply observing. Clover worked fervently, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he brought Harbinger’s blade down into the wood again and again, splintering the dead wood. Clover lacked Qrow’s deftness and grace with Harbinger, but Qrow nonetheless admired the power and purpose the ace operative put into the blade as he worked to chop the wood.
Finally, Clover had collected enough suitable pieces of dry wood to construct and light a fire. He looked over at Qrow, reflections of the nascent firelight flickering in the sweat on his face.
“We should probably get out of our clothes; they need to dry, and we won’t warm up very fast otherwise,” he said to Qrow.
“Yeah,” Qrow said weakly. “Good idea. You too, though? You look warm.”
Clover shook his head, as he began unbuttoning his vest. “I’m warm now from chopping, but I’m sweaty and wet. As soon as I cool down, I’ll be just as miserable and cold as you are. I need to get out of these as much as you do.”
Qrow shrugged, as he began unbuttoning his own shirt. He wouldn’t complain. Soon, they had stripped down to their undergarments, and began laying their wet uniforms out next to the now-blazing fire to dry.
“You know, the temperature’s still dropping,” Qrow said, as he draped his cloak over a couple branches he had propped up before the fire. “The fire will help--but maybe we should huddle up for warmth too.”
“Yeah,” Clover said, nodding vigorously. Qrow looked over, and saw that Clover’s skin was covered in goosebumps, and he had already begun to shiver. “Yeah, we should.”
Qrow sat before the fire, and patted the ground next to him. Clover sat next to him, and draped an arm around Qrow’s shoulders. Qrow reached over and slid one arm around Clover’s waist, then with the other took hold of Clover’s other arm. He lifted one leg and placed it between Clover’s so that their feet tangled and their thighs began to share warmth. Qrow sighed with relief, as he felt his skin begin to warm from the fire’s radiance.
“Okay,” Clover said, his breath shaky. He leaned his head against Qrow’s. “Okay. We’re gonna be okay.”
Qrow raised an eyebrow as he watched the flames dance before them. “You were worried? You seemed pretty confident there with the wood.”
Clover chuckled. “Qrow, I… I was terrified. We were in bad shape. Are in bad shape. But we’ll be okay.”
Qrow sighed. “This is my fault,” he said.
“What?”
“This situation,” Qrow continued. “It’s my fault. The mission was my idea, and I didn’t scout it out well enough. And with my semblance...now we’re stuck out here, with no hope of calling for help until we get a chance to try fixing the radio.”
“You know how I feel about your semblance,” Clover murmured.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not real,” Qrow replied. “And either way, now you’re stuck out here, alone with me.”
Clover tapped Qrow’s foot with his own. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m not alone. I have you.”
Qrow gave Clover a playful nudge. “You know what I mean,” he replied.
“No, really,” Clover said. He pulled Qrow close, his fingers curling around Qrow’s waist. “It makes a difference that you’re here,” he continued. “I know what it’s like to be alone. Or at least, a certain kind of alone. And I don’t feel alone right now.”
Qrow frowned. “What do you mean? I thought you’d always had the Ace Ops, and the military.”
Clover gave a small shrug. “I did, but….the thing is, it doesn’t matter how many people are around you, if at the end of the day, you’re alone. I had the Ace Ops, sure, and other teammates before that. But when the shift was over….I had dinner alone. I fell asleep alone. The parts of life you want to share with people--I didn’t have anyone with whom I wanted to, or could share.”
Qrow shifted, so he could lean more comfortably into Clover’s chest. The fire was beginning to do its work, as was the body heat. “You’re so outgoing, though,” he said. “And likeable. You’re telling me no one wanted to go out with Atlas’s Golden Boy?” Qrow realized after he spoke that he had just drawn a connection between their time together and Clover’s dating life. He felt a blush rising in his neck and ears, and hoped Clover hadn’t picked up on it.
Clover shook his head sadly. “People wanted to get close to me, sure,” he replied. “And I’ve tried letting them. Gods know I wanted to get close to them. But as soon as people find out about my semblance….often that becomes the only thing they see. All my hard work….just my semblance, making things easy for me. Anything good that comes my way--a promotion, honor, prize, whatever--of course I deserved it, but everyone who knows , knows it was just luck. And when I wasn’t good enough--when I made a mistake, or just couldn’t get the job done, it wasn’t because I’m human, and make mistakes and fail just like anyone else. People assumed I was being lazy, or selfish, and not using my semblance enough.”
“That’s horrible,” Qrow said, looking up at Clover with concern.
“Yeah,” Clover sighed. “It is. Years of that, and you end up feeling pretty lonely. I work well enough with others, because I have to. It’s my job. But I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that if I let someone get close to me….then eventually they’ll stop seeing me , and only see my semblance. I’ve had my heart broken enough times that I sort of gave up.”
Qrow slid his arm down Clover’s, and took his hand in his own, twining their fingers together. “I know what you mean,” he said. “After we lost Summer….I had a hard time getting close to anyone. Summer had never seen me for my semblance. But she was one of the rare ones. I had Tai, but he had the kids to worry about. I wasn’t exactly his highest priority. And I got used to people blaming everything on me. Anything bad that happened, any bit of bad luck….guess Qrow Branwen’s in town. Can’t have anything nice while Qrow Branwen’s around. People said it so much, I started believing it myself. That was when I started working alone--I learned that if I tried to get close to people, someone would end up hurt--either them, or me, or both of us. Teaming up with someone was a fast way to ruin that relationship.”
Clover squeezed Qrow’s hand. “Do you feel that way about working with me?” he asked.
Qrow looked up into Clover’s eyes, green eyes full of concern. He gave a small smile. “No,” he said. “Not with you. I feel safe with you. You know what it’s like. You see me for who I am, not my semblance.”
“Exactly,” Clover said, his eyes full of warmth. He pulled away from Qrow slightly and shifted his weight, so that he and Qrow were face-to-face, and lifted their clasped hands to his chest. “Since I met you, Qrow,” he continued, “I haven’t felt alone. At all. Gods, Qrow, it’s--” he gave a small laugh, and looked up to the cave ceiling, then dropped his eyes back to Qrow’s. “It’s been a long time, Qrow. You’re the first person in a very, very long time who’s seen me. Really seen me. When I’m with you….I feel heard. I feel like I can share what I’m going through--and you’ll understand. I feel valued--not because I’m bringing my semblance to the fight, but because you think I’m worth having around. For my own sake, not my semblance’s sake.”
Qrow nodded. “You are,” he confirmed. “Of course you are.”
Clover smiled. “When you asked me if I wanted to come on this mission with you, I was ready to say yes before you even told me what it was. Because it was with you. I don’t remember the last time I felt like someone wanted me on a mission with them because they liked me. Until you. When you agree to work with me, when you suggest a mission for us to do together--I feel like it’s because you like working with me.”
“I do!” Qrow said. “And I feel the same way. For the first time in a long time, I finally have someone I feel safe with. I don’t have to worry that I’ll screw it up with my semblance. I still do,” he said with a small, dark laugh, “but I don’t have to.”
Clover leaned forward and rested his forehead against Qrow’s, his eyes filling Qrow’s vision. “So I’m not alone. Not when I’m with you. It doesn’t matter how bad things get, how hard that storm rages. I don’t care if it takes days to call for help. I have everything I want right here in this cave. I have a warm fire, and you.”
Qrow looked into Clover’s eyes, and felt himself fill with warmth. He didn’t feel alone, either, here in this cave, in Clover’s arms. Maybe….maybe he didn’t have to be lonely. Not anymore. Not with Clover. For the first time in many years, he felt wanted.
Qrow leaned forward, and kissed Clover. Clover hesitated for a moment, and Qrow quickly pulled back.
“I-I’m sorry,” he began to stammer--but Clover leaned back in and returned the kiss, silencing him. Qrow exhaled with relief against Clover’s lips, and pulled Clover in close, relishing the warm security of Clover’s arms. As his kisses gradually migrated from Clover’s lips to his jaw, and then neck, and then shoulder, Qrow breathed in the faint scent of pine and wood smoke in Clover’s hair, and sighed. Clover leaned down and planted a line of kisses along Qrow’s collarbone, then pulled back, gently running his fingers through Qrow’s feathery black hair.
“What do you say we get some sleep, and pick this up in the morning?” Clover murmured. “We need to rest at least a little. And I for one can’t wait to not be alone when I fall asleep.”
“Yeah,” Qrow breathed. His heart was pounding, and he didn’t know how he could possibly sleep, not now--but he suspected that if anything could lull him to sleep right now, it was Clover’s warm embrace.
Qrow’s cloak had dried in the heat of the fire, and Qrow pulled it over the two of them, as he nestled into Clover’s waiting arms, stretched out on the cave floor next to the fire. He lay his head on Clover’s chest, and as the fire crackled, he listened to his partner’s steady, reassuring heartbeat.
And he knew that no matter what tomorrow held, it would be okay--because he wasn’t alone.