pairings: qrow/winter
notes: have some angst aka how much shit can I put qrow through. Some language because Qrow is a whiny baby

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There was a letter on his desk, its edges were wrinkled and discolored from his constant worrying, contemplating whether or not to open it. It was torn in places where had picked at the envelope, frustrated with himself and so absolutely angry with her for doing this to them.

Weiss visited a week after the letter arrived and when he opened the door his chest clenched at the sight of her. She looked so much like her sister and Qrow had a pressing urge to slam the door in her face. She forced her way in, every bit as stubborn as her sister and just as strong.

"You haven't read it." Weiss noted, reaching out to brush her fingers over the stained and crumpled envelope.

"Don't need to." he said, uncapping the flask and bringing the rim to his lips. "Can't."

Weiss lifted the letter up gingerly and turned it over in her hands. She had received her own the same time he did. She remembered how her hands had trembled when they broke the official Atlas seal, and how the words had blurred together into an unintelligible mass.

"Not opening it doesn't change reality, Qrow." she told him, softly.

"It'll change everything." he said darkly, tilting his head back and taking a hearty gulp from his flask.

Weiss set the letter down, a frown on her lips, and turned away.

"I'll be in touch for the ceremony." she told him, shortly,

Then she left him alone in the darkness of his apartment. He looked down at the letter, how she had left it seal up with Ironwood's harried scrawl below it. Opening it wouldn't make a difference.

Winter wasn't coming back, letter or no.

"Fuck." he threw the flask across the room and alcohol sprayed out over the floor, effectively soaking the carpet and splashing over the desk.

His hand reached to tangle through his hair. It was a greasy, tangled mess but he ran his fingers through despite the painful tug of knots pulling at his scalp. His fist fell heavily against his desk, leaving the wood splintered beneath his knuckles.

He stretched his fingers in front of his face, watched the skin pull together over exposed flesh and muscle and mend itself until there were only pale white lines remained.

She would be so angry with him if she could see him now. He had a self destructive streak already and this- this was the breaking point. Raven's sudden leave had started the crack, he remembered those days as a blur of alcohol induced bad decisions and late nights spent pouring over maps and searching for his sister. He gained his footing for Yang's sake, pulled himself together for Tai, who was barely holding together as it was.

When Summer died it happened again. Qrow's drinking habit had turned into a daily occurrence after her death. A flask had a near permanent place in his hand in the days following his Summer-less life.

Then the years had passed and Winter showed up and just for a moment he had been able to put down the flask. It had shifted from a momentary diversion to release the ever present tension between them and then suddenly it just became more. Then months passed, then a year, then two and Qrow found himself not being able to imagine his life without her. He was so pissed with himself when he realized how reliant he had become on her, when he realized how much he genuinely wanted her around.

He had hit James across the face when he delivered the letter. There had been no anger when Ironwood straightened, wiping the dribble of blood with the back of his hand. Qrow had thought, fleetingly, that it was cruelly just that Ironwood had his own blood on his hands for once.

Qrow reached for the letter. There were droplets across the envelope, discoloring the white paper with dull amber flecks. He tore at it, putting more strength than necessary into ripping the outer envelope to shreds.

A sheet of paper, folded neatly, fell. He watched it flutter down to the floor, unsure if he wanted to rip it or wanted to read it. He swallowed and lifted the paper.

Her handwriting, perfect slanting cursive, was printed across the paper in black ink.

'Dear Qrow, if you are receiving this letter then it would seem I have fallen in the line of duty. I want to apologize for leaving you behind but I'm glad you have not met the same fate as I have. You have too many relying on you to give up. Don't blame the General, I am responsible for myself and therefore responsible for my own life. It will be no one's fault but my own if I do not guard it well enough. Take care of yourself and please watch over Weiss for me. She will need someone who understands beside her. I love you.'

He crushed the letter in his hands, crumpled it mercilessly in his fist and tossed it aside. A low rasp bubbled from his lips as he brutally ripped her letter. He didn't realize there were tears until he felt one drop onto the back of his clenched fist.

The pieces fell at his feet and her words scattered all around him.

She was always so practical. She knew something like this would happen- she knew she was a pawn in Ironwood's grand scheme and yet she put herself so readily in the line of fire. He remembered her telling him once that it was her duty to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. He had understood that, it was the very same thing he did as a Hunter, but at least he wasn't stuck beneath the thumb of a power hungry ass.

But he recalled how she smiled when she spoke of her work, how she would light up when discussing her latest accomplishments. He remembered nights when she would collapse in bed after a long day at work and curl into him, exhausted but still able to kiss him and talk in hushed tones beneath the covers.

She liked to hold him when they slept, no matter how ridiculous the difference in size was. He had never minded. He would always wake up with her arms curled around him, their legs tangled and his hand numb beneath her but somehow he still found himself feeling content.

They had turned each other into saps. Who'd of thought.

When he looked back to the shredded pieces he felt almost guilty for ruining it. She would have been pissed to know he ripped up her last wishes.

But why did she have to leave him behind? He had been so sure she wasn't like the rest, like his sister, like Summer- like every single person he let himself care about.

His stomach rolled when he knelt down into the carpet, knees digging into the floor beneath him, and lifted up a few pieces. He could catch a few glimpses of words, her words, and his throat went tight.

Qrow's head tilted and his face pressed into his palms. He hated this. He hated the familiar empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was the massive gravity of loss that seemed to be ever present in his life.

Damn it. He had thought he was safe. He thought that Winter would be safe. He would have married her, would have started a life with her and gave Yang and Ruby little cousins. They would of had everything- she wasn't supposed to leave him, at least not like this.

He exhaled heavily, the breathe rattling in his throat. This wasn't how things were meant to happen.

She was never supposed to leave him behind.