A finger traced the rim of Shay’s glass as he listened to Vera explain her frustrations with Sam, and he felt his throat tighten as she spoke of how her encounter with the Adders had shaken her, how utterly unjust it was… and she was right. She had never lifted a finger to harm another person, outside of killing her would-be rapist long ago, and the Adders targeting her just screamed amoral scum. Target the vulnerable, the ones who wouldn’t likely be ready for a fight. They were cowards, the lot of them. Shay’s fist clenched, knuckles going white as the skin went taunt. He drank from his glass, perhaps a heavier drink than he had intended, the yellow-brown liquid burning enough to make him squint and suppress a cough as it hit the back of his throat. 

He knew what it was to watch a man die, and how the immediate departure of life in a violent, unexpected fashion leeched the life from those who were there to witness it. He feared the incident would haunt her the rest of her days, no matter how justified. It was strange how being forced to act to save her life made Shay feel guilty; he spared her from death, but she’d be forced to endure that scene for the rest of her life. That  was something that any man or woman who seen death was burdened with; it was how one carried on afterwards that mattered. He knew her withdrawal from the drugs was taking its toll; he didn’t know why she did it, other than she did, and it helped her cope. 

The change of tact was sudden, and it almost felt like Vera was fighting to make it a good night, not one that went down a dark road that was hard to come back from. She was fighting, even now, to make things work. Shay smiled in response, following her hand around the restaurant to take in the aesthetics, how it tried so very hard to mimic what it must have been like in Italy, or at least what most people would think when somebody asked them to imagine it. It was a pleasant place, different from what Shay was used to, but it seemed to suit Vera just fine. His heart began to lift as she spoke her praises about him, how much of an impact he’d made on her, and for the better. He felt almost speechless; no one ever really spoke of him in such a glowing way. He felt undeserving of the recognition, the appreciation. He felt his eyes grow heavy in spite of his smile; a conflict of emotions dwelled within his breast as he considered her words.

“I’m not sure what I am, Vera. Truly, it’s unfamiliar territory. Before I met you, or even kept an eye on you from the shadows, I just felt numb, like my life was simply for the duty I felt I was obligated to do. My father abandoned his family, and I had to make amends, even if it cost me. I came home from the war a changed man, the world was just a grey place. I see people who never been in the fight carrying on like the most petty of things was earth-shattering, and they grow frustrated at the veterans for not smiling like they should or shame them for the ghosts that haunt them… I knew I couldn’t stay in Ireland, back home where people know me. I was never really wanted there, being of English blood, and I felt I might do something rash against someone who spoke to me in the wrong way.” He said, his voice terse, an edge creeping to it. 

He breathed in a single long draw of air through his lungs and he drank to calm himself. “I always said I came here to look for my family, and there was no other reason… but a big part of me never felt like I was worth a damn outside of the war. I couldn’t work for a normal job, with people who don’t know what it’s like to truly suffer. And if people were going to hate me no matter who I was, then I’ll be the bloody villain in their story. 

“Killing’s the one thing I’ve ever been good at, and running with a gang gave me a venue to put my one and only talent to use against people who would just as likely spit on me in the street if not yell some slur. Bastards like the Adders… I’d gun every last one of them down and not lose a night’s sleep because they are the worst humans imaginable. There’s dead British and German lads on either side who should still be alive, and God chose to let men like the monsters who tried to take you in the night flourish while a kid who only weeks before’s biggest concern was getting a good enough grade to pass a test or providing for his family gets a bayonet through the heart because he happened to be in the wrong trench and didn’t have it in him to take another boy’s life.” Shay said, his voice low, strained. It wasn’t like him to evoke such raw and unfiltered emotion. 

“I used to go to church, twice a week, I loved God. I felt that he loved me, even if so many people wouldn’t give me a chance. Then I saw what God let happen on this earth he made… the utter insanity of it all. If you love your children, why let them suffer? I feel like every time I pull that trigger, I’m one step closer to Hell and away from redemption.” He said, looking up to meet Vera’s eyes. “But if I had to relieve that night where I saved you, knowing that those lives I took to save yours would damn me for eternity, I wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing again, as many times as it took until you could be free of those men.” 

Shay fell silent, eventually pulling his cigarettes from his pocket and dangling one from his lips, lighting it with a quick flick of a match. Shay’s features softened, and his pitch changed to match. “Honestly, Vera… I’m grateful beyond words that you came into my life, that Sam asked me to take care of you. I sometimes feel like I don’t deserve the fulfilling sensation you give me, the warmth I feel whenever you smile at me. After all I’ve been through and endured, I found something truly beautiful in this world. And for that, I consider myself a damn lucky man who found someone who despite everything, made the journey seem worthwhile.”