[At first he's thinking that he understands only too well, what it's like to shy away from hands trying to reach out because there's too much grief and pain and despair in your heart and you will only pull them into the abyss with you. But then she continues, and her situation is entirely incomparable to his own in the end, after all. Anna might think his traumas are worse had she known them, but Qrow isn't really thinking in terms of comparison at all, here.

Perhaps not least of these is that he has entirely too many commitment issues to uproot himself for a single person like that. The only situation that comes close is changing his life for Oz at Beacon, the heartbreak he'd felt when the truth had come out and he'd been abandoned in the snow, back en route to Argus. But he had already been drinking for a long, long time before that; it had merely been his rock bottom.

He rubs at his neck, feeling that prickle of unease that comes from being out of one's depth. He's not exactly emotional support material, tends to prefer to act as though he doesn't care about most things in general, but it's obvious she needs someone. Like many times in his life, Being There means the responsibility is his, whether or not he wants it.]

I mean, you can stop them if you want. I've never been great at talking, but I mean, I did spend twelve years trying to drink my problems into submission so I wouldn't have to talk about 'em, so I'm not exactly the example to follow here.