Thorn intercepts Fen on the way back to the barracks. He’s in tears. He won’t talk. It’s going to be a long night.
Thorn’s not entirely up to speed on what happened. All he knows is the basics: there was a bar fight, Fen was involved, Fen spent the early hours of the morning in the drunk tank. He can fill in the rest from the look on the kid’s face.
“Kih’vod,” he calls. Fen turns and Thorn beckons for him, pulling off his helmet and clearing a spot on the desk for Fen’s own. He stands to meet him. “Hey, kid. At ease.”
When Fen drops the salute, any semblance of control he had goes with it. Tears, before held carefully silent, choke their way out of his mouth in rough sobs. His shoulders collapse in on themselves. His eyes close. Thorn pulls him into a hug before he has a chance to try and hide. Fen’s got a tendency to do that, to pull away and cave in on himself before anyone can see he needs help. This is exactly why he’s been warning Fox about bad habits rubbing off on the troops.
Fen buries his face in Thorn’s shoulder. He’s trembling, but the shakes don’t start for real until Thorn starts petting his hair. “Thorn…”
“Shh, shh, I know, vod’ika. It’s alright.”
“I just. I. I thought they would still—”
Oh, oh, kih’vod. What have they done to you? “Hey, breathe. You know they’re bastards.” He squeezes Fen tighter, tugging gently at his hair. “They don’t deserve you.”
Fen takes a shuddering breath. “I couldn’t let them talk about the Commander like that,” he sobs.
Thorn rocks them gently back and forth. “I know. It’s hard. It’s not your fault.” Another Jesse-related incident, then. Some days he wishes he could just take the GAR troopers and—
And nothing. There’s nothing Thorn can do. Not about the GAR. Not about Fen’s batchmates.
“I miss them.” Fen pauses, shivers stopping for just a moment before returning twice as strong with a whispered, “Why don’t they love me?”
“I don’t know, kih’vod.”
Thorn closes his eyes.
“I really don’t know.”