Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY and make no claims to.

This fic is also cross-posted on AO3 under the same name. General, story-wide warning for mentions of alcoholism, abusive parents, and plenty of cursing. Will not have a romantic student-teacher relationship though the characters will probably grow fairly close.

Lumi double checked the area around the mouth of the alley she was in for the third time in twenty minutes. A ragged sigh broke past her lips as she shook her head. Paranoid, she chastised herself. There was no one around and she knew that. She'd seen with her own eyes and heard with her own ears that she was alone.

Unless, an irrational corner of her brain pointed out, someone shared her Semblance or something close to it and could hide in the shadows and was watching her right now.

She whipped her head around at the sound of glass breaking, but the car alarm that went off immediately after assuaged her that her immediate area was as empty as she was trying to make herself believe. She still felt like someone was watching her, but not nearly as much.

The purple eyed girl raked a hand through her too long bangs and sucked in a deep breath. Grimm, she was as jittery as her father after an extra-long shift and he usually knocked back a full pot and a half of coffee when that happened. His love for the beverage had naturally rubbed off on her, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than a mug of dark brew coffee topped with whipped cream and sweetened with a liberal amount of caramel creamer.

"I need a drink." She sank to the ground and stared at the sky. "It's been too long."

Lumi pulled out her Scroll and checked to the messages between her and her GastlyGurl139. "5 min" read the text, but that had been eight minutes ago and she was already twelve minutes late by the time she'd texted her. If she hadn't already promised the goods from GastlyGurl to someone else, she'd have left long ago. She weighed the possibility of being able to grab a cheap, corner store coffee before the other woman showed up, but decided the risk was too great. Obviously Gastly had some pressing issue that delayed (and probably irritated) her, so the likelihood of Lumi being the unwilling recipient of a temper tantrum was too high to ignore.

Lumi had enough temper tantrums to deal with at home, thank you very much. Especially this last weekend…

She opened Timblr, unwilling to dwell on her less than perfect life, and scrolled through her dashboard until Gastly showed up. The other woman wore a limited edition enamel pin on her cardigan as proof of her identity. They spoke little, exchanged goods, then Gastly walked off. From body language alone, Lumi could see that the other woman was pissed off, which proved her hypothesis

Lumi tucked the pack of cigarettes into her coat pocket and waited until the older woman was five minutes away. Maybe it was paranoid, but the short wait made it so she wouldn't run into her clients on the way home. She didn't want to know where they lived or for them to know where she lived.

That was her intention, anyways.

"Hazelwood," a gruff, familiar voice called from- above her?

Oh fuck, she was being watched, it wasn't just paranoia! Lumi full body flinched at the sound of her name and made it two short steps before the source of the voice flickered into existence in front of her.

"Hi, Mr… Bran-wen…" She smiled with forced cheer. "Fancy seeing you here." In Patch. The island where Signal Academy was. Where he taught. Where she was enrolled.

Fuck.

"Hey," Qrow shot back, less than amused. "So, what are you doing here afterschool?"

"Enjoying the weather?" She fixed him with a shaky smile.

"Oh, really?" He placed one hand on his hip and the other on his chin. "I heard somethin' about you 'needing a drink'…" He motioned to her and the dark metal ring on his hand flashed in the sun.

She frantically glanced anywhere but her teacher and quashed the urge to try to smooth talk her way out of the situation. Convincing random police that she was giving money to the homeless so they could buy food (not so they could buy alcohol for her) was easy, convincing her Hunstman teacher who definitely saw her exchange a bag of dubious goods for alcohol and tobacco was a whole other ballpark.

"Unless I was hearin' things?" The corners of his mouth quirked up in a cynical grin- a smirk, her mind frantically screamed at her, determined to be correct despite the futility of it.

She kept quiet and smoothed her thumbs down the length of the strap, frail smile still plastered to her face. While he had authority over her at school, that didn't mean jack squat outside the classroom, so she could conceivably tell him to fuck off and be on her merry way.

Except for the fact that he knew her name (had been her teacher for years), and his word would be enough to get her expelled with only the barest of evidence. She didn't even want to contemplate how easy it would be for him to knock her out and snoop through her things.

"Not gonna talk, huh?" He sighed and glanced skyward for just a second.

In that brief time, Lumi's mind conjured the wild idea to throw the bottle forward and to the left, then while he was distracted, run like an Alpha Beowolf was after her in the opposite direction. All she needed was a split second to activate her Semblance, as long as he didn't recover too quickly…

"Hand over your bag," he demanded quietly.

Quietly? Quietly? Her hands spasmed around the leather strap and pulled it closer to her pounding heart. Who demanded things quietly? Oh Grimm, what if he unlocked her Scroll and read all her messages, which had details on other deals she was running? That would get her expelled and in jail quicker than she could blink. And while Beacon accepted students with less than stellar pasts, what would they think of a convicted criminal? She'd never make it. Two years at Signal- wasted.

Despite her racing mind and screaming nerves, Lumi smoothly raised the worn leather over her head and held the bag straight out.

His six foot plus frame easily towered over her five foot four self, but he remained at roughly arm's distance at all times except when he reached for the knapsack. She appreciated the small consideration despite the fact that she was forking over her schoolbag which had a full bottle of whiskey in it and oh Grimm she was really fucked now wasn't she? At least the cigarettes were in her po-

"Empty your pockets too," he prompted offhandedly as he rifled through her things, bottle tucked under his arm.

Damn.

She covered the cigarettes with her Scroll and placed her earphones on top of the pile. With her right, she dug out her keys and a tube of lip balm. She held onto the items until he motioned her forward.

With one arm curled around a bottle, and the other supporting her bag, he didn't exactly have a lot of reach so she stepped close enough to smell his breath (what a weird measurement) and dumped her belongings in his arms.

He smelt slightly of alcohol, which surprised her exactly none because his drinking problem was well-known even if he didn't drink during class. Or rather, said he didn't drink during class. It was hard to prove one way or the other because he was a veteran Huntsman and thus much quicker and craftier than her or classmates. It didn't matter to her, unless he was the kind of drunk that like to knock people around. Even then, he didn't seem drunk drunk and probably wouldn't hit her.

She was safe.

As safe as she could be considering that she was in trouble. Being in trouble meant having to make up for it, a concept she had learned at a young age from her mother. But what could she offer him in return? More liquor? He was old enough to buy his own- why make a sixteen year old to do it? Oh, perhaps a seamstress? It wasn't widely known that she could sew, but if could spy on her for over twenty minutes without her catching him then it would be easy enough for him to have overhead her talk about her hobbies. His cape was rather tattered…

Qrow sighed lightly and looked Lumi up and down while she was lost in thought. A faded black sweater with spiderwebs sewn on the elbows, well-worn skinny jeans ripped at one knee, scuffed sneakers and dark grey hair done in low twintails. Mostly covered pale skin and dark smudges beneath her eyes. Her bag was full of the usual junk kids carried around (notebooks, pens, gum wrappers, etc) but it also held a bottle of over the counter pain pills, and a note reading "45 lien, 524B Oak Street."

Suspicious, and when tied to the larger picture, worrisome. Lumi Hazelwood had divorced parents, was quiet in class and a history of coming to school injured. He caught her making a trade in a random alley for a bottle of whiskey so cheap it might as well be paint thinner and a pack of equally cheap cigarettes. He was far from being the most involved teacher, but even he couldn't ignore the obvious.

He remembered his own first forays into drinking, stuck without guidance and so sick of dealing with all his problems that falling into a drunken stupor was better than thinking clearly.

"Look, Hazelwood," He looked her in the eye. "What's all this for?"

"I don't know." She didn't meet his gaze.

That wasn't an answer, but whatever. He had the feeling that if he wasn't careful she'd clam up completely and that was a pain he didn't want to deal with.

"Whatever's going on at home, drinkin' won't solve your problems," he pointed out.

"I know," she refuted, a touch of steel in her tone.

"Oh good, you know," he mocked. "Then you also know that you oughtta be expelled from Signal for even having this crap."

She hunched her shoulders and pursed her lips but said nothing. No defiant declarations, no tearful pleading, no furious shouting.

Ugh, that was the wrong thing to say. A short while ago he was lounging on the roof with his trusty flask and now he was dealing with a sullen teenager on the road to alcoholism. Fun.

As it was, he had two ways to deal this. He could report her, fill out all the annoying paperwork to get her kicked out or suspended. Alternatively, he could let her go, hope that getting caught would scare her enough for her to stop and consider what she was doing with her life.

She didn't look like she was an alcoholic, too fresh-faced and alert for that, but once you started drinking to run from your problems, you never quite stopped- he would know.

He groaned mentally. Too much self-reflection. He wasn't qualified for shit like this, for guiding "wayward youths." That was Ozpin's schtick.

So what would that old owl do?

"You should be expelled, but I'm gonna cut you deal, kid," he shifted his weight to his other leg. "Detention for one hour afterschool, with me, for six months. No ifs, ands, or buts." He stayed that long anyways, having her around wouldn't step on his freetime.

Her jaw clenched as she bit her tongue. It was a good deal, she knew it was, but she barely had enough time in the day as it was and there were her younger siblings to consider. Ash would be thirteen soon, and while she didn't want to submit to this punishment, she'd have to trust that he was old enough to be in charge of himself and Nocte.

"Okay," she yielded with a pent-up breath.

If her teacher was surprised, he didn't show it, merely nodded and passed back her things- aside from the contraband.

"You start tomorrow," he instructed then walked off.

She spun on her heel, shouldered her bag and left as quickly as her legs would take her. At least she didn't feel like she was being watched anymore.

Lumi reflected on the past week while she straightened up the weapon's workshop. Detention wasn't as bad as she thought it'd be. Mr. Branwen only asked that she help him clean the class, or do her homework quietly while he worked. She could even eat as long as she cleaned up after herself.

As it was, she usually spent the first fifteen or twenty minutes cleaning up the class and the rest of the time doing schoolwork or designing potential outfits. Despite being in her third year, she still didn't have a proper Huntress outfit and she wanted to at least nail the design by the end of the year.

She picked up a weapon handle that was laying on the floor and flipped it over in her hands. It belonged to some sort of sword, a big sword at that, judging by the crossguard and length of the handle. There weren't any buttons to signal that it did anything other than its obvious purpose, and the craftsmanship was nice enough for a student even though it was missing a pommel. Why was it on the floor?

She wrapped both hands around the handle and found her answer. She could comfortably fit both her hands, but if the crossguard was any indicator, then the person who made it was considerably bigger and needed a couple more inches to use it two-handed. No matter, she held it in her right and assumed the basic stance for fighting with a baton. A couple experimental attacks later, she conceded that the crossguard was throwing off her technique and tossed the handle into the scrap bin.

Lumi flinched and screamed internally at the sight of Mr. Branwen leaning against the doorframe.

"Having fun?" He strolled into the classroom.

"Just practicing," she replied and busied herself with straightening out the already neat shelves.

He snorted but said nothing else.

Lumi sat back at her seat when her nerves settled and jotted down a few themes she could base her Huntress outfit on. One that kept popping up was "police" but as useful as a thigh holster was, she wasn't prepared to commit to cargo pants for the foreseeable future.

Teacher and student worked in silence until the hour was over, then Lumi packed her things and left. One week down, twenty three more to go.

Monday of week two brought a small change to the established equilibrium. Qrow was slumped over his desk by the time Lumi walked in, and only raised his head long enough to see that it was her before he laid his head back down.

Questions sat on the tip of her tongue, but she refrained from asking them. It wasn't her business, and it would be inappropriate considering that she was here as punishment. She took her usual seat and pulled out a book on Aura healing. It was weird to break routine, but she doubted making a racket while cleaning would help her teacher's- hangover? Head cold? Fatigue?

Whatever it was, he barely stirred for the duration of the hour. She slipped out of the class and eased the door closed behind her when she left.

Tuesday, when she had class with him that wasn't detention, he passed out worksheets and informed them there'd be a quiz Friday based on the assigned reading listed at the top of the packet.

And that was it. He sat at his desk, grading papers for the entire class period. Detention was more of the same, so she continued reading her book on Aura healing instead of cleaning. Better safe than sorry, and better to face the enemy another day than die for glory.

Coincidentally, that was exact reason she was learning about Aura healing. Her mother, when Lumi and her siblings went over for the weekend, liked to take Lumi out to the Forever Fall forest and hunt Grimm. Which was to say, because Verbena Hazelwood was not a gentle soul, she would drag Lumi out to the forest to watch her fight Grimm then spar when Lumi looked ready to drop. It lead to a lot of bruises, gashes, sprains and/or fractured bones. On rare occasions, it even lead to broken bones.

That fact, combined with her well-honed skill of consciously manipulating her Aura to speed her own healing, lead her to an interest in Aura healing which could be used to help others. Signal had a few books on the subject, and poking around bookstores in Vale led her to a few more. Publically available books (that weren't medical textbooks) offered basic triage and first aid tactics, but didn't go in depth about things like healing broken bones and treating someone who'd been poisoned. Still, it was better than nothing, and she hoped Beacon had more on the subject.

Three quarters of the way through the hour, Qrow sighed and leaned back in his chair.

Lumi looked up from her book, and weighed the benefit of finding out what was wrong with her aloof teacher versus not drawing attention to herself. When he didn't move for three minutes straight, she figured she might as well- he was definitely out of it.

"Mr. Branwen?" she queried softly. "Are you okay?"

He waved her off. "Don't worry about it, kid, I'm just behind on grading. Teacher stuff."

"Do you," she paused a breath to gather courage, "need help?"

"Know the three most Aura receptive metals off the top of your head?" he challenged.

"Not really, but don't worksheets have keys?" She ducked her head and twirled a strand of her too long bangs.

"Point," he grumbled. "You might as well, this is detention," he teased.

Lumi immediately regretted her instinctual act of placation and self-preservation, but got up anyways to take the half-marked stack from Mr. Branwen. It was never a good idea to annoy a Hunter in a bad mood.

They corrected papers in silence. A half hour ticked by without note until Lumi stretched her arms over head and sighed loudly.

Qrow glanced at her, then at the clock. "Thanks kid, but your hour's up."

Lumi nodded pleasantly and gathered the completed pile. "See you tomorrow," she called over her shoulder as she scooped up her book and walked out.

"See ya," he shot back.

On Wednesday, her red-eyed teacher looked well enough to tolerate noise again so she resumed her routine of cleaning and working on her own things. The rest of that week and most of next continued as usual. That Friday, however, she received a call midway through cleaning.

"I need to take this, I'll be-" Lumi glanced at the door then back at her teacher.

He nodded.

She scurried out and hit answer before she made it to the hall. "Hi…"

The door closed and cut off the conversation. In the hallway, however, Lumi was frantically denying accusations from her mother that she was trying to skip her weekend visit. Why did she have to do this now? She usually picked them up at six, and it was barely three! Unless she was drinking again…

Qrow finished cleaning the workshop and plopped down in his less than comfortable office chair. His quiet little student was taking her sweet time on the phone. He hoped she hadn't run off, because he was beginning to grow mildly fond of her and would hate to have to hunt her down.

He sighed, ruing the day he accepted a job at Signal and the accompanying responsibility, and made his way to the door. He poked his head into the hall, but didn't see her.

Great.

He could, however, hear her, indistinct as it was. His feet carried him down the hall and around the corner, where she sat on the floor next to a water fountain. She was crooning softly into her Scroll, kind reassurances and I love you too's.

It was weird as hell.

"If you're talking to your boyfriend, tell him you'll call back later," he deadpanned.

A look of disgust immediately crossed her face. At the sound of a muffled voice, her expression settled back to doe eyed and gentle. "No, no, that was just a teacher," she murmured. "Yeah, I have club right now, remember?" A beat passed. "I love you too, but I need to get back to my club, yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, good night."

Lumi smashed the "end call" button. "That was my mother."

"Noted," he said.

From her tired shoulders and pinched brow, he figured her issues with her mom were part of the reason she drank (not counting whichever parent it was that was hitting on her), but he wondered if she'd confide as much in him. She wasn't particularly talkative to begin with. A large part of him hoped she would work through her issues by herself, with no input from him, but the corner of his heart that was reserved for his adorable nieces twinged in sympathy.

Traitorous organ.

"You wanna explain what all that was?" He prompted half in dread, half in hope.

"No thanks." She smiled at him. "Besides, I still have…" She checked her scroll then grimaced. "Thirty minutes left of detention."

"You've got my ear for an hour every day, if you need to talk to someone." He shrugged.

He tried to quash the small feeling of dismay when she responded with another smile and got to her feet. He should call Ozpin and get some advice. Hell, he should have done that in the first place. For as much as he wanted to help, to keep her from going down the same path as him, he was out of his league.

Back in the workshop, he fought against the urge to dial the meddlesome old man then and there. Hazelwood smiled at him every time she was in his line of sight, even peripherally. It was more than he'd ever seen her do and went so far past "weird" that it jumped straight into "bizarre" and "possible alternate universe."

He suffered through the last half hour and sighed in relief when the door closed behind her. Then he dug through his pockets for his Scroll and hoped his Semblance wouldn't crash a tower just to spite him.

A/N: This idea has been on my mind for a while now, so I figured it deserved to be written down. I've gone through a couple of versions of this, but this is the one I like best. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! I plan to update on Monday afternoons, though I don't have much written after this chapter so we'll see how dedicated I really am.