For Mitchell
He ached. His knees were bruised-- he'd jammed them on the floor of the stage, and he'd been coming down off an hours long adrenaline high that just wouldn't quit. Humanity, at times, was horribly tedious. He'd been looking after his own for centuries-- his girls, whose faces changed over the years but each was no less important to him than the last, but he never remembered the aftermath being so... pathetic.
Perhaps he was only deluding himself.
For now, she was safe, though he'd seen that thread of madness in her that reminded him so much of Dru, and that... it didn't sit right. Fred was so strong. She didn't deserve that kind of torment.
So, he'd gone to the bar to get well and truly smashed, because what better way was there for an emotional idiot to handle his problems?
Perhaps he was only deluding himself.
For now, she was safe, though he'd seen that thread of madness in her that reminded him so much of Dru, and that... it didn't sit right. Fred was so strong. She didn't deserve that kind of torment.
So, he'd gone to the bar to get well and truly smashed, because what better way was there for an emotional idiot to handle his problems?