"Why’re the lights out? Where’d ev’rybody go?" Who: Sara and Qrow What: Qrow has a few too man, Sara offers to drive him home. When: Before Sara moved into the Double Tap, early August Where: The Double Tap Ratings/Warnings: Alcohol abuse, otherwise low/none Status: complete
It wasn’t the first time that Qrow had wound up passed out drunk by the end of the night, but it was something that was starting to both worry and annoy Sara. She had enough to do closing up shop at 2am without worrying about how her patrons would get home, and she was starting to think that she would have to start cutting Qrow off a lot earlier. He probably wouldn’t be happy about that, but it was for his own good. Probably. Unless he wound up drinking himself to a stupor in a ditch somewhere.
Still, she’d let him rest here as long as she could. She finished her cash out, turned the change she got for tips into bills to add to her wallet, and the finally grabbed the still half-full drink from in front of him, dumped it out, and put it in the dishwasher so it could get cleaned overnight.
Then, most of the lights turned off, she grabbed Qrow by the shoulder and shook him roughly. “Hey, it’s time to get up.”
Qrow would have been perfectly content to remain where he was, slumped over at the end of the bar, his head resting heavily on his arm and hand dangling over the edge of the bar top. Despite the condition he would likely wake up in, it was the best sleep he’d gotten in a while. So, he wasn’t exactly happy to suddenly be shaken awake. “Ugh, get off!” He growled, impotently shoving away whoever was shaking him out of his stupor.
He was awake now, though, blinking blearily around him. Alcohol soaked brain cells took a few moments to recognize the interior of the Double Tap. Qrow’s brows furrowed together when he finally looked up at Sara. “Why’re the lights out?” He asked. “Where’d ev’rybody go?”
Sara sighed as Qrow attempted to shove her but didn’t do much more than paw at her stomach. “They all went home, Qrow,” Sara said. “Like you should be doing. Can I call you a cab?”
“Home?” Qrow repeated. “What time is it?” He looked down at his watch, squinting at it in what little light remained on in the bar. He wasn’t quite able to make out the exact time, but he could guess the hour was late. Poor Sara probably wanted to go home. He recognized the look on her face, he’d seen her look at him that way before. He hated it.
“‘M fine,” he told her, waving her off with a vague gesture of his hand. He pushed himself off his stool, but the moment his feet were on the ground the whole room starting spinning at an unnatural angle and he had to grab hold of the bar to steady himself before he fell over.
“It’s late,” Sara said simply. She crossed her arms, frowning at Qrow as he stumbled to his feet. “You’re obviously not fine,” she said. “If you don’t let me help you out, you’re likely to end up flat on your face. Now, do you want my help or not?” Qrow closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the spins to ease up at least a little bit. He didn’t look at Sara when she spoke. No, Qrow didn’t want her help, but seeing how just standing up seemed to be something of a challenge, he didn’t really have much of a choice. A cab probably wasn’t a bad idea, either. This drunk, if he attempted to fly home he’d probably fly into something and break his neck. Wouldn’t that be an embarrassing way to die. “Sure,” he mumbled.
Well, at least he wasn’t going to be obstinate about it. There was nothing worse than when Sara tried to do something nice and then just ended up getting shit on by the person she was trying to help. She slipped her shoulder under Qrow’s arm and wrapped an arm around his back so that she could help steer him toward the bar door.
Sara generally tried to avoid asking about her regular’s personal lives - generally people who came to the bar almost every night did so so they could get away from whatever it was at home - but Sara wasn’t sure if she trusted Qrow to get through the front door if he was in this way. “You have anyone waiting for you back home?” she asked.
To be fair, all Sara was really asking was if there was anyone to take care of his drunk ass once he got home, which wasn’t really prying. Qrow could have lied. He could have told her that one of his nieces was spending the night at his house. However, before the thought even had a chance to form, his mouth was betraying him. “Psh. Nah. No one’s keepin’ any lights on fer me. Preetty sure I left a light on fer myself, though. Maybe? Dunno.”
“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Sara muttered under her breath, but what could she do? Qrow could take care of himself when he was actually capable of standing on his own two feet, but this was a rough area of town and she wasn’t sure if she could trust him to get home safely. Besides, Dan had already had one of his regular’s go missing and he seemed to have taken it pretty hard. He didn’t need a repeat of that.
“Alright then, Booze Hound, it looks like I’m taking you home tonight,” she said, fishing for her keys from her pocket. She still didn’t have her own car, but since Sara had been working late tonight, Laurel had let her borrow her car.
“Takin’ me home?” Qrow repeated. “Nah, you don’ hafta t’ do that. I know a dude. Works fer Uber. He doesn’ mind takin’ me home offa the books so long as I tip’em well. Here. lemme just…” he let go of Sara a moment to reach for his phone. He swayed along with the spinning room and stumbled a bit, but was able to stay upright for the most part. However, when he looked at the phone in his hand he found himself looking at his scroll. Again. “God dammit…” he muttered. “The fuck did I put my cell?”
It was probably in his bag in his car where his scroll was supposed to be, but Qrow didn’t have much of a presence of mind to actually go look for it. With a relenting sigh he let his arms fall to his sides and after swaying a bit more looked at Sara. “Looks like I do need a ride. D’ya mind if I grab a coupla things outta my trunk first?”
Sara was less worried about him getting an Uber home than she was him actually managing to make it through his front door. The Orange County might have been safer than a lot of the places she had been, but sleeping on the doorstop wasn’t a good idea no matter where you lived. So when he finally agreed, she was relieved.
“Yeah, no problem,” Sara said, ushering him out the front door of the Double Tap so she could lock up.
While Sara locked the door, Qrow leaned against the wall, breathing in the night air and trying not to fall asleep. The spins had subsided a bit, which was a welcome change. Maybe he could actually get to his car without having to lean on Sara like some kind of living crutch. He cracked open his eyes and squinted at his car parked across the lot. Christ, it looked as though it was miles away. When did Dan’s parking lot get so fucking big?
He had half a mind to just forget about it. However, he really should get Harbinger out of the trunk. It’d be just his luck the one time he left it behind would be the exact time in which Orange County decided to fuck off to hell in a hand basket.
Ah, but what did it really matter, anyway? It wasn’t as though anyone really needed him to help or protect them. Most people would be better off without him. All he did was risk making a volatile situation ten times worse than it needed to be just by existing. And it wasn’t as though he gave a flying fuck about what happened to him.
The damnable misery of it all was that he did actually care on some twisted level, which just made everything worse.
As Sara finished locking the door, Qrow looked in her direction. “Why are you doing this?”
“So that no one breaks in and drinks all of Dan’s booze when we’re not here,” Sara responded, as if she didn’t know what Qrow was actually asking while she tried to think up an answer for why she was doing this. Because it was the right thing to do, obviously, but she couldn’t say why it was the right thing to do.
“And I guess because everyone needs to know that people are looking out for them sometimes,” she answered after a moment. What Sara said should have made Qrow feel a bit better, knowing that there was someone out there who cared whether or not he got home in one piece, but it didn’t. In fact, Qrow was painfully aware that there were those out there who cared. His family, for example. How many times had he woken up over the past several months to find Ruby puttering about the townhouse, picking up stray glasses and empty whiskey bottles? How many times had she texted him to see when he was coming home -- if he was coming home? Qrow winced. Too many times to count and each and every time he’d felt that pang of guilt like an arrow straight through his gut. Any sane person would have realized what they were doing. A good person would have stopped drinking, stopped being so goddamn selfish and gotten their shit together. All Qrow seemed able to do was the exact opposite. He turned his eyes away from Sara. His attention moved towards his car again, seeming even further away now than it did before. “Some people aren’t worth the effort,” he said. “Some people are drowning and they’ll only take ya down with’em.” “Lucky for you, I used to be a lifeguard,” Sara said, with a gentle smile. “You know, there are a lot of people out there who know how to pull you out of the water without being dragged down themselves. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you let them try to help you out sometimes,” she said. “People can surprise you with their resilience sometimes.” Qrow’s thoughts found their way out of his mouth before he had a chance to run them through any kind of filter. “You us’da be a lifeguard? What the hell are you doin’ tendin’ bar at this shithole, then?” That wasn’t nice. “I don’t mean that,” he said, shaking his head. “Dan’s a good guy. I shouldn’t go ‘round slammin’ his bar. Its notta bad place.” He tapped the backs of his knuckles against the wall, as if to appease the building itself. “Certainly spent time in worse places.” A headache (the first sign of the type of hangover he was going to have) was making itself be known behind his eyes and near the top of his skull. He groaned and rubbed at his eyes. Again, his thoughts decided to run roughshod around his inner filter. “If I knew what kinda help I needed, I’d get it,” he said. No sooner had he said the words than he heard bitter cruel laughter and was surprised to discover it was coming from him. “Who the fuck am I kidding? No I wouldn’t. People like me don’t get help. People like me don’t deserve to get help!”
“Pays better,” Sara answered. Tips really did make a huge difference, but it wasn’t as though lifeguarding paid well in the first place. It was a lot of sitting around, being bored for hours at a time, and dealing with mouthy teenagers. That was something she probably handled a lot better when she’d been a teenager herself than she would now. “But I promise not to tell Dan that you called his baby a shithole,” she added with a smile.
The smile faded though. “Everyone deserves help,” Sara said, grabbing Qrow’s arm in an attempt to make sure that he could see her, and could see how serious she was. “I’ve done a lot of shit too, Qrow. A lot of really shitty things that I’m going to regret every day for the rest of my life. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t deserve to find help, or to have people who care about me. Those are the people who are going to make sure that I become better than who I’ve been. I can’t just keep wallowing in my mistakes, and neither can you.” She startled him when she grabbed his arm. Qrow had never seen her look so grave, so serious. The look made him uncomfortable at first – it reminded him a little too much of Ruby. But as her words started to penetrate through the headache and alcohol induced haze he wondered just what kind of shit Sara had gotten mixed up in before landing as a bar tender at the Double Tap. For a moment he didn’t feel quite so isolated. But then her last statement sunk in. His eyes narrowed angrily. “Is that what I’m doin’?” He demanded. “Wallowin’ in my mistakes?” He yanked his arm free from her grip. “You don’t know anythin’ about me, the life I’ve led or the shit I’ve done!”
Qrow didn’t understand why he was so angry. He knew she was right: he was excellent at wallowing in his own misery and he hated himself for it. He hated Sara more for pointing it out. No, he didn’t hate her. The anger subsided as quickly as it had bubbled up, leaving him tired, irritated and nauseous. All Sara was doing was trying to help. Why did that piss him off so much? He stepped back from her. “I get what you’re doin’ and what yer sayin’,” he told her. “And maybe you’re right, I dunno. But if you’re told your entire life that you’re a piece of shit, than chances are, you’re a piece of shit.” Qrow sighed and rubbed his eyes again. “Look, I’m tired. I just want to go home and sleep the rest of this off. You don’t hafta give me a ride. I’m probably sober enough now that I can fly most of the way there.”
“I don’t have to,” Sara aid, her voice more heated than she had meant to. “I know you now, and whatever you’ve done, you don’t deserve to keep isolating yourself like this!” She took a breath, not really sure why she was fighting like this. Qrow was right: she didn’t really know him. All she knew was the Qrow who showed up way too often at the bar. But it bothered her, seeing someone who was so obviously beating himself up for who knew what reason.
There was a part of her that thought she should ask exactly what he meant by flying home, but this didn’t seem like the time to do that. “The offer for a ride is still there,” she said, her voice softening a little. “Sounds like a lot less work than flying.”
Getting a ride would be less work than flying and truth be told, he really wasn’t in any condition to attempt to navigate his way on his own, by foot or by wing. The problem now was that he figured he’d done a pretty decent job of making an ass of himself -- or more of an ass of himself. He was every bit as good at doing that as he was wallowing in his own misery.
“Ya still wanna give me a ride?” He asked, his voice betraying a bit of surprise. His eyes ached as he glanced again at his car. The parking lot loomed in front of him, a long stretch of black pavement his feet had no desire to attempt to travel across, even to get his weapon out of his trunk. If he couldn’t even do that, he had no hope of flying home. His head throbbed at the mere thought of it. His eyes flickered back in Sara’s direction. “Ya sure?”
“I’ve got nothing else to do,” Sara said, offering Qrow a bit of a tentative smile. “Anyway, if I got upset every time someone got drunk and yelled at me, I’d have picked the wrong job.” Sure, there were some people who did that who didn’t deserve Sara’s time, but Qrow wasn’t one of them. She still remembered when he and Leon had helped her out back when she’d first started working at the Double Tap. “Come on. We can even swing by McDonald’s on the way.” The thought of food made Qrow’s stomach lurch, but what energy he’d had left had been wasted on snapping at Sara. He’d feel bad about it – embarrassed even – in the morning when the sun was shining and he could properly reflect on his behavior. Hell, he felt bad about it now, but more so he just felt tired – physically drained. It was just easier to acquiesce to whatever Sara said. He sighed and shrugged, “yeah, awright. Thanks, Sara.” As far as Sara was concerned, the best thing after a night of heavy drinking was something greasy and terrible for you. It didn’t even occur to her that Qrow might have other thoughts on the matter. “Alright, come on then,” Sara said, leading the way toward Laurel’s car. “Next time you come in, you’re going to have to explain this flying thing to me, by the way.”
Qrow pushed himself off the wall of the bar and ambled after her towards the car, which was parked mercifully closer than his. He owed her for this -- for helping him despite his shit attitude. He had no idea how he’d make it up to her.
He glanced in her direction as they made their way, slowly blinking as it registered with him that earlier he’d said he’d fly home and Sarah had no idea what that meant. “A wizard turned me into a bird,” he told her almost dismissively. “So now I can do it whenever I want.” He made a gesture with his hand. “It’s a dream thing.” Suddenly, out of nowhere, Nora’s in-dream reaction to the revelation surged to the forefront of his mind, making him chuckle. “I turn into a crow,” he said. “Little on the nose but, eh. Guess the dreams have a sense of humor too.”
They’d reached the car at this point and once it was unlocked, Qrow got in. The moment he was off his feet, sleep threatened to take him again.
It was entirely possible that Sara had heard something stranger than that, but she’d be hard pressed to think of it now. As far as strange went, that was pretty up there. But Qrow was in no condition to answer follow up questions, and even if he was, she wasn’t even sure what follow up questions she’d have.
“That’s fitting,” she said instead, because yeah, someone named Qrow turning into an actual crow was pretty fitting. She started the car, and looked over at Qrow, smiling a little. He looked pretty beat. McDonald’s could wait until after she got him home.