Reputation: Book One

Qrow

Jerzei. Trying to talk to me, trying to apologise for something irreplaceable. I should forgive her so there would be a no-grudge truce, but I couldn't. Just because we were kin didn't mean a thing to me. Although after she left, Tripp pointed out that she was still part of the team and it wouldn't be long before we had to bond again. But bonding and having to work together were two totally different things.

"You can't blame her for this," Tripp says weakly. "It's my fault for getting in and it's your and Autumn's fault for letting me go. We all play a roll in this."

I turn to him, mouth open and offended.

"My fault?" I echo. "Did you seriously just say that?"

He looks at me, face wrinkled. "Yes, I did, because it's true," He says loudly.

"No damn way," I tell him. "When you carpool, it's the driver's biggest priority to keep the passenger or sirs safe," I point out. "and did she do a good job? No. She failed, which ended up with the both of you in the hospital when she didn't even get hurt in the slightest!" I yell, gripping my steering wheel tightly.

"So you think it'd be okay for me to just drive off this bridge too?" I ask, motioning to the overpass they had crashed off of just a few nights before as we passed underneath. There were still small pieces of her Range Rover in the grass and glass sprinkled in the street. Tripp huffs and snaps his head to the window, crossing his good leg over his bad and folding his arms. I wince as his crutch slides into my dashboard, making a loud tink as it hits my polished wood.

"I just think it's petty and childish of you to try and pull this 'I won't forgive her for an accident' shit," He says to the window. I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"Okay, well thanks for sharing your opinion," I retaliate, flicking my blinker wand to turn the corner to his house.

We silently pull into his driveway and I get out, walking over to his side to help him out. I open the door and bend down to his level, tossing his arm around my neck and grabbing his other side.

"On three," I tell him. "One, two,"

He pushes himself out of the seat, crying out in pain and gritting his teeth as he nearly falls into me. I stumble under his weight bring as I move to his good side, putting that arm around my shoulders and handing him his crutch to put the under his opposing armpit. He cusses under his breath as we take one small step, and I stop, my insides writhing with every painful sound he utters.

"We're almost there," I tell him hopefully. "You stay put and I will unlock the door."

I rushed forward, fumbling with my lanyard to find his house key. My nervous fingers finally grabbed it and jammed it into the lock, twisting it and pushing the door open.

"Qrow," He says quietly.

"Yes, love?"

"Thank you," He whispered. I turn to him.

"Of course," I smile.

"I'm sorry that I didn't wish you a happy birthday or couldn't spend the night with you," He apologises. "It was stupid of me to just go bottoms-up on everything and if I wouldn't have done it, we wouldn't be here," he says. "It's my fault."

My face softens. "Tripp-"

"Don't say it," he tells me, putting a hand up. "Now will you help me rinse my stitches please?"

I slowly nod, walking to the kitchen. I open his bottom cupboard and pull out a rag, moving to the left of his dishwasher and pulling the cupboard open.

"Just get situated on the couch and I will come to you," I call over my shoulder as I yanked a bowl from the stack. I reach under the kitchen counter and pull out the bottle of rubbing alcohol and fill the bowl with warm water. Carefully, I dip the cloth into it, wringing it out as I crouch down in front of Tripp.

"Are your legs going to roll up that far?" I ask, eyeing his jeans skeptically. He groans, pulling at the denim on his thigh. "No."

Without warning he slumps down, his fingers fumbling with his belt and zipper. My stomach leaps to my throat and I quickly look away. Not that I didn't want to see him because, hell yeah, I'd like to just take all of him in, but... Not like this.

I stand up, grabbing the ankles of his pants and gently pulling on them as he pushes the waistband down his thighs. I kept my eyes down low, afraid, embarrassed to look up. He grunts as he pulls them all the way off, turning and tossing them aside. The sight of his wound made me feel uncomfortable and squirmy. Autumn could've done a better job stitching him up.

"Shit," We both breathe. He tilts his leg, leaning forward with his eyes narrowed. "Well no wonder it felt like I was being torn apart," he snorts. "It looks like Jhordyn did this."

He was right; it looks very spontaneous to be done by any professional. The cut was probably closer to eight inches long and had dried blood caked to the surrounding flesh, the wound inflamed and hell, most likely infected too. Tripp looks up at me.

"Can you clean that for me?" He asks. I let out an uncertain groan, sitting back on my hands. "It's going to hurt," I point out.

"It's better than having it rot," He snaps. I sigh, getting back up and striding to his bathroom. I open the drawers lined along the vanity and find a pair of nail scissors, cuticle clippers, teal latex gloves and a large box of Q-tips. It will have to do, I thought as I seized a handful and walked back.

"So do you want me to trim the dead skin?" I ask, pulling on the rubber gloves.

"How 'bout we just wash it and see?" He asks, chuckling nervously. I nod, pressing the rag to his calf and slowly rubbing at the cut. He makes a slight pained face and I recoil, eyeing him.

"Don't stop," he tells me sternly. "I'll tell you if you have to stop."

I nod again, being a little bit more rough this time. After it was clean, I sat back and let him examine it.
"Yup," He grunts. "Pour alcohol over it, then soap again."

I try not to wince myself as I pour a bit into the rag. This was going to hurt him so bad.

I held it at his knee, squeezing it tightly so it would run down his leg. I watch the droplets dribble down his leg, closer and closer until it touched the start of his cut. Immediately he sucked in a sharp breath, hissing through his teeth.

"Ah, yeah okay," he gasps. "Now just trim it up to make it look cleaner."

I do as he says and weave my way around and under the strings threaded through his flesh. Pretty soon, after raking the blades along the inside flesh a few times, I'd gotten it into fair condition and clean. I softly sigh, plopping down on the cushions next to him. Tripp repositions himself to where his head is in my lap and his legs are dangling off the other edge of the sofa. I took a strand of his shaggy blonde hair and twisted it between two of my fingers.

"Can you stay tonight?" He suddenly asks, looking up at me innocently. I purse my lips, shaking my head.

"I've got to go check on Jho and I have work tomorrow," I tell him. "but tomorrow night I will."

He smiles, taking my hand. "Can't wait."