Summer Rose died on a Tuesday morning.

"…a head on collision with a truck. Rose was going 30 miles per hour, and the truck was going about 60 miles per hour. Both drivers were killed in the accident. The driver of the truck, Vincent Vale, had been intoxicated. Summer had been on her way to Beacon High School to drop off her daughter when the accident occurred. Vale was killed instantly when the steering wheel broke his nose with such a force that shards of bone pierced his brain, and a shard of shrapnel pierced his heart. Rose's death was slower. Shards of shrapnel puncturing her stomach and other vital organs, causing her to die of blood loss during the ambulance ride to the hospital. Rose's daughter, Ruby, had gotten off lucky. She suffered a concussion and a few broken ribs…"

The news article didn't describe what it would have sounded like when the vehicles crunched together. It didn't describe the way Summer had probably screamed or the way her throat probably gurgled when both vehicles finally stopped moving. Even if the printed article described the accident in as much detail as the newspapers would allow, it still wasn't capable of capturing the horror of that accident. At least, not the way Qrow pictured it.

He sat in the hospital waiting room, scanning the article over and over again. There hadn't been a picture of the accident, but he could see it in his head. Summer's little red sedan all smashed up. Summer bleeding. Summer suffering.

He'd heard about the accident from Dr. Ozpin, a social worker who'd been assigned to the now orphaned Ruby Rose's case, later that same Tuesday morning. He took a drink from his flask before slipping it back into his pocket. He'd met Ozpin before, but only a few times, and none of those interactions were pleasant memories.

He was really dreading this talk. He hadn't seen Ruby in person since she was a baby. Hadn't spoken to her at all when she would have understood him. All he could picture was the infant, laying on a little pink blanket on the living room floor, holding her tiny arms up and kicking her little legs; squealing and demanding attention. Sure, he'd seen pictures of her as she'd grown up. Summer would send them in letters, or give them to him when she'd visit. But the girl was fifteen now, and he wasn't sure if he'd even be able to talk to her. He didn't know how.

"Mr. Branwen." The nurse called from her station. "You can go in now. She isn't awake yet, but the Doctor says she could regain consciousness any time now. I'm sure it would be nice to wake up to a familiar face."

Familiar. That almost made him laugh.

"Alright." He crossed down the hall and moved to stand in the doorway of Ruby's hospital room.

"She looks so much like you." Ruby lay curled in Qrow's arms, her tiny fingers wrapped around one of his.

"Mmm." Summer opened her eyes back up. "You think so?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Qrow, she's only a few hours old."

Ruby half-heartedly kicked her legs, slowly blinking her eyes open. "Her eyes are even silver like yours."

Summer laughed. "She'll look like her father before too long."

But she still looked just like Summer. Same coloring (maybe her hair was a little darker), same haircut, same cheek bones, same fingers. That wasn't going to make this any easier.

"I didn't think you'd come so quickly."

Qrow looked to the other side of Ruby's bed, where Ozpin sat with a binder and a cup of coffee. Qrow sat in the chair nearest to the door.

"This is important."

Ozpin looked up. "She doesn't know, does she?"

"No." Qrow took another sip from his flask. "No, she doesn't."

"Has she even met you before?"

"I haven't seen her since she was a baby."

Ozpin wrote something in his binder. "Do you plan on telling her?"

"How did you even find me?" Qrow looked up.

"Summer wanted you to be the one to take care of her. It was always in her plans that if anything were to happen to her that you'd take care of Miss Rose."

Qrow sighed. "Let me guess. She wrote that 'little girls need their daddy's' too, didn't she?"

"Mr. Branwen, I know this is going to take some getting used to—"

"With all due respect, Dr. Ozpin, but cut this "Mr. Branwen" bullshit." Qrow leaned back in his chair. "This isn't like every other case you've taken on. You know me. And Summer might have wanted this, but do you really think that Ruby will? Do you think she'll want to live with someone she's never even met?"

"Qrow, please." Ozpin cut in, setting down his binder. "I know this is going to be difficult. For both of you. But since it's what Summer wanted, you are who Ruby will be placed with for a trial period to determine if that's what's best for her."

"And if it's not? Ozpin, I don't know how to take care of a kid."

"Lucky for you, Ruby's fifteen. I'm sure she'll be a little easier."

"How is Chief Ironwood letting this slide through?"

"This is why we have a trial period." Ozpin closed his binder. "Please, think about what will be best for Ruby."

"Summer would be best for Ruby." Qrow whispered under his breath.

Ruby's eyelids fluttered and she let out a small moan of discomfort.

"Looks like she's waking up."

She blinked awake, looking around the room with wide, silver eyes. Summer's eyes.

"Mom?" She asked, slowly becoming more lucid. "Where's my…?"

"It's alright, Miss Rose." Ozpin smiled. "You're in the hospital. You hit your head, so they gave you some medicine. Everything is going to feel foggy for a while."

"Mmm…foggy…" She closed her eyes, almost in agreement.

"Unfortunately, Miss Rose, we can't have you dosing off. You might not wake up."

She nodded keeping her eyes closed.

"You don't plan on going over all of this with her now, do you?" Qrow ask, looking at the social worker.

"Of course not. She needs to wake up a little bit more."

"What?" Ruby asked, blinking her eyes open again.

"It's nothing you need to worry about right now, Kiddo." Qrow whispered. "It's going to be okay. You have to stay awake, but don't work yourself up too much."

Ruby nodded, slowly.

"Where's my mom?"

Qrow stood up, coming to sit on the edge of her bed. "She isn't here right now. But I am."

She looked at him, tipping her head to the side. "Do I know you?"

"Not really." He smiled at her. "But I'll be taking care of you for a little while. You can call me Uncle Qrow."