[Again, there's an apology, but not the one he wants. He realizes it's probably not coming. Which...hurts, because he wants Oz to understand, not to lose this man who meant so much to him all over again, but--he already lost him, that day in the snow, hadn't he? Or maybe it's more accurate to say he never had him in the first place. Ozpin was too...old, too paranoid, too burdened with the weight of too many lives to really let anyone into his heart.

It's a cruel irony, in a way; Ozpin was the first one to ever show Qrow what it felt like to be accepted for everything he was, the first to take to the iron shackles around his heart and hand him the keys to the world.]

But you'd do it again, wouldn't you? If you had the chance to do it over, you wouldn't be honest with me.

[Qrow doesn't have to wait for an answer. He knows it already.

He's not sure how he imagined this conversation would go; after Ozpin locked himself up in Oscar's mind, he was so angry, so devastated, so filled with despair his negligence almost got the kids killed. But things are different, now. He's stopped drinking. He's working on the Amity Project in Remnant, and building ... something with Clover here, that he dares not think too hard about.

He's not okay, but he's doing better. He's been standing on his own two feet without Oz for months, now. He owes it to Ruby and Yang to keep moving forward.]

I guess that means we have nothing more to say to each other, Oz.

[It's the first time he's said that nickname this entire conversation. The way he says it sounds like goodbye.

Finally, he turns halfway on his heel, looking at the wizard over his shoulder. His gaze is steady this time, drained of the desperation of before.]

...If you ever feel like apologizing for lying to me half my life, look me up.