#i require validation

The Krew had stumbled into the Feywild outpost the night before, run ragged by their latest monster encounter. Gideon had been roughed up pretty severely, but thanks to the expertise of Gricko and Morning Frost, was only experiencing a ghost of the pain.

After a night of rest he supposed everyone was feeling more themselves. They were off pursuing their own pleasures, exploring what the outpost had to offer.

*

Gideon tried not to be too obvious as he watched you from across the bar. He always thought you were beautiful, but with the dirt and blood from the journey washed off, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

Your auburn hair caught the dim light in the bar as you danced around, listening to the trio of bards performing. Another patron next to you said something and Gideon watched, unable to hear your voices, as you threw your head back and laughed.

A pang of jealousy stabbed at Gideon’s chest as he watched the scene unfold. He should be the one making that laugh erupt from you- not some stranger in the Feywild. He knocked back the last sips of his whiskey, savoring the sting as it went down, and signaled the barkeep for another round.

He continued to watch you for a few more songs, the whiskey warming his already hot body. The music slowed as Gideon noticed a familiar emerald robe make its way towards you. Frost pulled down his hood when he reached you and Gideon watched as you rest your hands on his shoulders, preparing to dance with the Tabaxi. Suddenly, Gideon’s jealousy was warming him more than the whiskey was.

Gideon gripped Morning Frost by the scruff at the back of his neck, a little more aggressively than absolutely necessary, and your eyes widen. When you register that it’s Gideon who is tearing Frost away from you, a grin breaks out on your face. You send a mental thanks to the Tabaxi and he mirrors your smile as he leaves the tavern, most likely returning to his room to meditate.

“Feeling a little jealous, Gideon?”

“Huh? Wa- no!” He gently places his large hands on your waist and can feel the fire Genasi’s heat through your dress. “I just think that Frosty needs to keep his paws to himself.”

“And what about you? Do you need to keep your paws to yourself?” You place your hands on Gideon’s broad chest and look up at him.

“I don’t have paws,” Gideon huffs and pulls you closer to his body. You laugh and pull one of his hands up to yours.

“I don’t know Gid,” you line your hands up palm to palm and splay your fingers out. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Gideon looks at your small hand pressed up against his much larger one and entwines your fingers. He brings your hand to his face and kisses the back of it. You smile at him softly and lay your head against his chest. He rests his cheek on the top of your head and begins to sway the two of you to the gentle music, never letting go of your hand. You lose track of time, just enjoying each other’s company until the bards announce their last song.

“You really scared me out there Gideon,” you whisper and pull back from his embrace to look him in the eyes. “I wasn’t sure that Frost was going to get to you in time, or-or-or that Gricko had enough banañas left, a-a-and…”

Your words catch in your throat and tears prick your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey now,” Gideon gathers you in his arms again and hugs you close, his mouth right above your ear as he says, “it’s okay. I’m here. I’m okay.”

You press your face into Gideon’s chest and sniffle, trying to regain your composure. The final song of the night ends with a flourish. Neither you or Gideon make a move to release the other.

He sighed, taking a long drag of his cigarette. "Do you not want to stay with me, then?"

"That's not -! Tommy!" She huffed lightly, turning her gaze elsewhere. "It's nice to know you haven't changed much. You've always been there for me, and I know you don't particularly like talking  about business, but I need to know... what do you plan on doing about the Lee family? I know you, better than you think, and I know you are going to do something about it. You won't let me take part in it, I'm not foolish enough to hope you will, but I'd like to know what you had in mind."

"They can't know we suspect them, last thing we need is for a bigger mess." He exhaled the smoke, offering the rest of the cigarette to Millie. "Don't. Don't go off getting revenge, I will handle that. You've been through enough tonight."

"I ought to be sobbing, inconsolable even. I've lost everything I love, but I don't even have it in me to cry. Am I broken, Tommy? Is there something wrong with me?" She looked up at him, stopping on the sidewalk. 

Thomas returned her gaze, expression softening as he dropped the cigarette on the ground. "We're all broken, Mil. Now, come on, you've had a rough night." 

That didn't necessarily make her feel any better, but she knew Thomas had a point. After the war, everyone was broken. Danny had gotten the worst of it, but you could tell that the ones who came back, even if they seemed okay, were far more broken than anyone could imagine.  Thomas was no different. He had his own problems that he would never talk about, but he never had to. Millie had known him since she was seven and he was ten. She knew the things he never talked about, only because his eyes told her what she needed to know. 

They walked in silence until the had approached his home, of course it was something discrete and not easily noticeable. It was like any other place on the inside, scarce of most decorations and held enough to comfortably fit two people, although, something told Millie it would just be her living in the home for the most part. Thomas had more important things to do that weren't staying at home with her - that was fine, of course, she'd rather not know of the things he would get into. She'd worry too much that it'd make her sick. 

"Room's upstairs, second door on the right." Thomas gestured upstairs before turning to, most likely, return to the Shelby House to carry on with the bets. "Don't break anything."

"There's hardly anything here to break, Tommy. There's hardly anything here!" She sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest, ignoring the fact that whining probably wasn't the best thing to do considering his act of kindness. "Can I at least decorate a little?"

He paused, hand floating above the doorknob. "There's a sketchbook if you want to draw."

Millie was thankful he remembered she adored drawing, but that did little to help to answer her question. She had watched him quickly leave, preventing her from asking any further questions. It was always like Thomas to leave so quickly like that, but it would've been nice to have gotten a less cryptic response. 

Now alone, she decided to just head upstairs, shoulders heavy from the weight of it all. He was right though, the moment she had entered the room, she had noticed a sketchbook on the bed. Did he know she would have to stay here, or was that just an unusual coincidence that was a little creepy? She couldn't decide, but she couldn't care more than the small amount she already did so she simply fell onto the bed,  dozing off shortly after. 

-

Morning came with ease, and the deafening silence of being alone, but she was safe. She was safe and even if she had nothing, she still had her life which was a lot more important than most would give credit for. Her head, however, was in a disagreement with the rest of her and throbbed like a steady beat of a drum. Even her body felt heavy and icky in the gross, sick way.  

She slipped from the bed, moving to look at the sketchbook Thomas had left for her. It was empty, but it wouldn't remain so for long - if she could get her mind to focus enough on the paper. She already had an idea of what to draw, but her mind argued - no - begged for darkness and soft comforts. Agonizing pain throbbed in her mind the longer she tried to think about art, so she didn't try it. She moved it aside  left it as was, maybe she'd get to it later if she was feeling  better. Despite the pain, there was not much else she could do other than return to The Garrison or to the Shelby household. Either one of those seemed to be a gamble considering important things occurred at each. She'd rather not get caught up in whatever Thomas consumed himself with this time, but she had a guess it had something to do with Billy Kimber when it came down to it. 

She stayed. Even if the boredom ate at her very being, she refused to move too far from the bed. At one point she had woken up without even realizing she had fallen asleep, yet even then there was no one to keep her company. Thomas probably wouldn't be home until late, if at all, and the others would not be there if it meant risking her safety. The Shelby's had eyes everywhere, but so did the Lee clan and Billy Kimber.  It wasn't too far to assume they would have jumped at the opportunity to attack if they knew she was here, and unguarded. She was still, in every sense of the word, alone. 

It was another few hours of aimlessly wandering about the home, and sketching, until she felt better to at least go out and stop by Shelby home. No one stopped in the streets to look at her like they had the night before, but she chalked that up to not being half naked. She would have to get more clothes, though. 

Thomas spent most of his time here, as did the others, but they each had little areas of their own, homes away from home. It was still a bit odd entering the Shelby home, knowing that this was the true place of the brains and the brawn. Little Finn was out on the couch in front of the curtain protected doors that led to the betting shop, but he didn't seem all that concerned to see her. 

"Tommy isn't here if that's who you came to see." He stood, moving to stand with Millie as she wandered into the ever bustling betting shop. "But Aunt Polly and my brothers are! They're working on bets for Monaghan Boy!"

"I can tell. Shouldn't you be helping, Finn?" She raised an eyebrow, staring down at him with a small smile. "Mind telling me where Polly is? I've got something I want to ask her."

"She's talking with Arthur in his office!" With that, he stumbled off to help sort and collect the money for the bets. 

Polly and Arthur were busy discussing separate matters, but quieted when Millie had entered. It wasn't the words that made Millie uncomfortable, but it was the mere fact that they looked at her with such pity, such sadness, as if they understood exactly what it meant to lose everything . Arthur may have gone to war, but he still had his family. He had Thomas, Finn, John... He had so much more and she had nothing. She had nothing but the clothes on her back, and if anyone wanted to suggest it, she had Thomas too.

"Ah, Mildred. How are things settling with Tommy? I hope it hasn't been too troublesome for you." Polly led Millie from Arthur's office, guiding her towards the parlor of the home, away from the betting room. "We would've offered for you to stay here, but I fear it was for the best that you stay somewhere safer, and Tommy - you know how he is - insisted."

"Please, Millie is fine, but Tommy... He was quick to leave, gone before I had woken up." She shrugged lightly, looking down as if to hide the hurt feelings it brought. "Can't say I'm surprised, he was never one to stick  around for long, even before the war. I'm sure he's got other things to occupy his time that don't consist in babysitting me. That's actually what I came here to talk about."

"Oh? Well, I suppose any reasonable person would be wanting to get to doing things, but are you sure? You look a bit pale. Tommy would never forgive himself if you got hurt while he was off and about." She waved her hand dismissively, smiling. "But you know he'd never allow you to put yourself in danger, not after last night."

"There has to be something I can do, Polly. You and Tommy have done so much for me, more than I need, more than I deserve. I have to repay your kindness, Polly. Somehow." Millie shook her head, hands middling nervously with the cloth of her skirt. "I could've gone back home to America, but you... you and Tommy helped me. I can't just sit here and feel utterly useless while Tommy keeps a promise he never should have made in the first place."

Poly was silent for a while before, with eyes as kind as a mother's, she sighed. "Why do you say he shouldn't have made that promise? You know he adores you, more than he lets on, especially after the war.... Point is, he'd always look out for you. To him, you're a Shelby, and to us, you are family. You are always welcome here, Millie, remember that."

"He only adores me because I know him better than anyone else, even him. I listen to him, I give him what many cannot, but he doesn't come around anymore. Before, he spent quite a bit of time with me at the tracks, at least just for tea and small talk.  I feel as if he is only here out of obligation for that promise. It feels as if he doesn't really care for me much anymore, just that ridiculous promise." She looked down, inhaling sharply. "It's not just the war, but his eyes are so sad when they look at me. I can't help but think I am keeping him from something more."

Polly smiled sadly but turned when the door opened, she kept herself quiet to greet who had entered. "Oh, Tommy! We were just talking about you. I believe our little Millie has something she'd like to say to you."

"What? No I don't. I have nothing to say to anyone, I was just leaving to go, uh, somewhere else? Preferably for more clothes, that don't smell like sadness." She was about to turn tail and leave when Polly closed the door behind her, barring her from going elsewhere. 

Thomas was quiet as he watched Polly leave, turning to face Millie with a small sigh. "You're pale as fucking hell, you should be resting right now. I'll send Ada out to get you some more things to wear. How are you feeling?"

"Like a baby, Tommy. I can do things on my own, I can just get some clothes myself. I know what I like." She retorted, crossing her arms. "Did you come back home last night, or did you stay out doing whatever it is you do? You've been so distant with me lately, I never know what you're thinking anymore. It's like you shut me out, and for what? Do I need to prove to you that I don't need your protection? What happened, Thomas?"

"You know what happened." He responded, shaking his head lightly as he pulled out a cigarette to smoke before her hand stopped him. "What?"

"The war didn't stop you from visiting. You always visited. Always." She looked up at him, a small frown on her face. "Suppose now I gotta ask if there's someone else you're going to these days, someone else who's replaced me as your confidante and friend. But I know you and you won't say a damn thing, even if it's the best thing."

"It doesn't fucking concern you." He snapped, pulling his hand away from hers as he lit the cigarette. "Go home, Mil. Ada will bring more clothes for you."