Mateo sat very still.
Not calm -- just very, very aware of how many people within arm's reach could've killed the old him with household items.
The booth was dead center in the waystation, which meant he had the full experience: clink of cups, scrape of chairs, the aggressively fake normalcy of hunters pretending not to stare. Summer and Raven occupied opposite ends like rival warlords forced into a peace talk neither of them had agreed to. Stone-faced. Shoulders squared. Eyes locked. If looks could kill, they'd take half of Remnant in the crossfire.
Tea was placed in front of Summer. Coffee in front of Raven. The server backed away like someone who'd just fed two territorial Grimm.
Mateo slid a handful of lien onto the table -- tips from the performance, folded and counted twice because if he messed this up he might die. Around them, other hunters lingered at tables that were suddenly very important to sit at right now. No one was listening to them. Everyone was listening to the ambiance, they promise.
For the rest of the room, this was theater.
They'd heard them, when the portal opened.You're coming home.You ran.
Without context, it could've been anything. A betrayal. A mutiny. The angriest reunion in recorded history. Mateo had briefly heard one guy whisper "Is this a custody thing?" before getting elbowed into silence.
Summer was the first to move.
She wrapped both hands around her teacup—not to drink, just to ground herself. Her eyes never left Raven's. "You look healthy," she said. Neutral. Careful. Like she was stepping on glass.
Raven snorted quietly. "Funny. You look… alive."
Mateo winced internally and took a slow sip of water. Oh. We're doing this. Silence stretched again.
"I thought you were dead," Raven continued, voice low, clipped. "I felt your link go cold. Then gone. You don't just--" She stopped herself, jaw tightening. "You don't survive that."
"And yet," Summer replied, just as quietly, "here I am, no thanks to you." Their eyes didn't waver. Not anger. Not yet. Something older. Heavier. Around them, the waystation held its breath.
Mateo glanced between them, then down at his cup. He raised a hand halfway, like a kid in class. "So," he offered gently, bravely, possibly suicidally, "on a scale from awkward reunion to someone flips a table, where are we at?"
Two identical looks snapped to him.
He shrank back an inch, dearly wishing he could merge with the booth itself. Just to get further away. "--Asking for the furniture." A hunter at the next table choked on their drink. The women slowly returned to their glaring contest.
"I understand you may have... Complex feelings at the moment Summer."
"Complex? No. I'm not even mad, honestly." Her words were sounded calm, Sweet even. Like 'all is forgiven, let's go buy cake and talk about our academy years.' "How could I be? I can't get mad at a rock for being still. What right do I have to be mad that you ran away?"
"I called--"
"I mean Brother Gods! -- It's like an addiction you just can't kick." Mateo went to interject with some humor, but Summer silenced him before he could even open his mouth. "You ran away from home. You ran away from being a huntress. You ran away from your husband -- Sorry. My, Husband."
"Damn." It wasn't out loud, be his thoughts were clear from the grimace on his face.
"You ran from your daughter-- Oops, sorry again. My, Daughter."
"DAMN."
"Fish swim. Trees grow. And little birdies like you, fly away when they're startled."
"GOD. DAMN."
Raven's fingers tightened around her mug. Not enough to crack it. Enough to remind herself she could. "Are you done?"
Summer tilted her head, still calm, still smiling like she hadn't just bled Raven out on the table. "Oh no. I'm just establishing a pattern."
Mateo made a very small noise somewhere between a whimper and a prayer and shrank an inch farther from both of them. No one noticed. Or cared.
"You don't get to rewrite what happened," Raven said. Her voice stayed even, but the edge was there now — steel dragged slow across stone. "I said we need to leave. You stayed. That was your choice."
Summer nodded, like she was agreeing with a lecture. "It was. And your choice was to leave." She finally lifted her teacup, took a delicate sip. "See how that works?"
Raven exhaled through her nose. "I wasn't going to die for anybody's war."
"No," Summer agreed. "You were going to look out for yourself. Again."
Raven's eyes flicked, not to Summer, but away. To the table. To the steam curling off her coffee. To anywhere she didn't have to look at the woman who knew her too well.
"You think I didn't come back?" Raven said, quieter now. "You think I didn't open a portal the second it was safe?"
Summer's smile finally faded. "Safe for who?"
The room had gone very quiet. Even the fake normalcy gave up, a waitress was moving an unplugged vacuum, to look busy.
"You felt my bond," Summer continued. "You felt it wasn't gone. You felt I wasn't dead. And you still didn't come."
"You don't know that."
"I know exactly that," Summer said, voice still soft, still lethal. "Because you're only here now."
Raven stood so fast her chair creaked hard enough to make several hunters flinch. Hands went subtly closer to her weapon. Mateo froze so completely he briefly achieved inner peace.
"You don't get to judge me for surviving," Raven snapped. "Not you. Not Tai. Not-- anyone."
Summer stood too, controlled, measured. She looked down at Raven, morally if not physically. "I'm not judging you for surviving," She leaned in just enough that only Raven could hear the next part. "I'm judging you for being too scared to Live."
Silence slammed down like a dropped shield.
Raven's shoulders sagged -- not much, not visibly to anyone else -- but Summer saw it. Mateo saw it. Mateo cleared his throat very gently. "So," he said, voice cracking just a little, "I'm gonna fully go and order some sweets. For… morale."
Neither woman looked at him.
He raised a finger. "I'll be over there. Existing... anywhere else."
He slid out of the booth and retreated with the cautious, but hurried steps of a man backing away from a ticking time bomb, leaving Summer and Raven standing across from each other.
3 donuts and an awkward staring contest later...
Raven told them to stay where they were, and she'd open a portal in a few hours. A direct to home line. Mateo kept his trap shut, silently praying that Summer wouldn't make another 'running away' quip. Once the corvid raven was a dot in the sky, Mateo let out a breath of relief. "Well... I think I'd rather take another bite of that fruit than sit in the middle of that again and that is saying something."
"Sorry about that. We have a... Complicated past."
"Yeah, Yeah no, I heard... Way to be the Mom that stepped up."
"...Was that a Step-Mom pun?"
"...No."
"You're forbidden from puns in front of my daughters or husband."
"I ain't even done nothin' yet!"
"Yet."
They spent that time in idle chatter relieving the mood. Talking about goals for the future which is when Mateo dropped a bit of a bomb on Summer's lap. He admitted he had no interest in being a Huntsman, but he wasn't opposed to helping in an unofficial capacity.
"You can't just not be a Huntsman! You have all that potential in you... with the weird fruit thing and..."
"And my wandering Hobo lifestyle? I'm not exactly trained for combat, and I don't really want to be? Well not warfare, a little self-defense never hurts. I did learn that saving lives feels fantastic, possibly the best habit I could pick up. But the Hunting life just ain't for me, not really." Seeing Summer fluster like a Fisherman about to lose their catch, Mateo laid out a little bait of his own.
"Look, I'll meet this Ozpin guy, do the talk, have a walk, see where that goes. Best case scenario? I get a little scroll y'all can call me on for favors or gigs. Worst case, I'm somehow brainwashed against my own ideals and end up going to a boring ass school for 4 years."
"... I think you have that backwards?"
"Best case, For me. I'm my own choir now, I'mma travel, sing, make money, save the odd kitten from a tree now and then."
"You can't just not use your abilities for the people!"
"Never said I wouldn't. I just said I don't feel like I need a permit to do that... Illegally."
"So, you're just premeditating vigilantism?"
Mateo flashed her a grin that was equal parts smug and mischief. "Whoa, whoa—vigilantism is a strong word," he said, hands up. "I prefer freelance problem-solving."
"…That's just vigilantism with better branding."
"Exactly! See, you get it."
She pinched the bridge of her nose, long-suffering already. "And you know it's illegal."
"So is stealing donuts," he gestured to the empty box between them, "and yet here you are, living dangerously."
"That was my donut."
"Mmmm, by my count I only had 2, that was a box of 6, on top of the 3 from the tavern... Your workout routine must be killer."
Summer sighed, then leaned back in the booth, studying him properly now. "You have no training," she said. "No license. No oversight. You don't even have Aura control yet."
"And yet," Mateo said lightly, "I outran Scorpo-dick, stole a Huntress, and lived."
"…I don't like that you're right."
"Neither does he."
She huffed despite herself. A corner of her mouth twitched--then she caught it and scowled, like smiling would validate him. "You can't just show up in emergencies and decide you're the solution."
Mateo's grin softened. Just a little. "I don't decide," he said. "I listen. Screaming tells you when something's wrong. People too, I guess." He shrugged. "If I'm there and I can help? I help. If not? I move on."
Summer's gaze sharpened. "And when you get hurt?"
He shrugged again. Smaller this time. "Then I get hurt."
"That's not an answer."
"It's an honest one; no one goes through life without some bumps and bruises."
Silence settled, not awkward this time. Thoughtful. Outside, the waystation creaked and hummed, life moving on like it always did.
"You sound like Qrow--" Summer muttered.
Mateo shrugged. "I have no clue who that is." A lie, He remembered Qrow. top 5 favorite characters right there.
"--Minus the alcoholism," she amended. "Plus the music. And the fruit. And the illegal heroics."
"Give me time," he deadpanned. "I'm young."
She laughed. The kind that slipped out before she could stop it. "You're impossible."
"And you," he said gently, "are very bad at letting people choose their own paths."
She looked at him sideways. "…You always this mouthy?"
"Only when I'm awake, and I don't keep track when I'm asleep, so maybe."
She rolled her eyes. "Gods help me."
"Already did," he said. "Dropped me outta the sky, remember?"
A pause.
"…If Ozpin says no," Summer said slowly, "I can't protect you."
"Didn't ask you to."
Another pause. Longer.
"…If he says yes," she continued, "I will keep an eye on you."
He grinned. "I'd be offended if you didn't, I'm gonna be very famous and my first fan better buy all my merch."
Summer shook her head, standing as the portal finally formed in the air. "You're a problem, Mateo."
"Yeah," he said, rising too, wind curling playfully around his shoulders. "But I'm a fun one."
She hesitated--then extended a hand. "I'll be happy to help the world with you,"
He shook it. "Illegally," he added.
---
Mateo stumbled one step forward as gravity reasserted itself, boots crunching softly against pine needles and damp earth. The smell hit him first: salt on the wind from the sea, warm soil, wildflowers crushed underfoot. Patch.
Summer landed beside him cleanly, already steady, cloak settling around her shoulders as if it had always belonged there. Behind them, Raven stepped aside, the portal snapping shut at her back with a sharp crack that made the trees shudder.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Sunlight filtered through the branches in lazy bands. Birds rustled somewhere above, unaware they were sharing space with 2 women-shaped emotional landmines.
Summer turned.
Raven met her eyes.
No accusations. No apologies. Just a long, loaded look. Everything they would never say packed into a single breath. Guilt. Relief. Anger. Fear. Regret. Raven gave a short, sharp nod. Summer returned it.
That was it.
Raven didn't linger. She stepped back, already half-turned away, crimson feathers ghosting at the edges of her silhouette as she vanished into the trees without ceremony. No goodbye. No explanation.
"This way,"
The house came into view. Two stories. Weathered wood. The porch slightly crooked like it leaned into the ocean breeze on purpose. Windows open. Curtains shifting lazily. Smoke curling from the chimney.
Summer slowed. Her shoulders tightened, then loosened. She reached up, brushed her thumb once beneath her eye like she was clearing dust, then squared herself and kept walking. As they reached the edge of the yard, Summer paused. "For what it's worth," she said, voice quiet, steady, "thank you. For getting me here." The front door was only a few steps away now. Inside, laughter waited.
(Read the Author Note.)