livingmyths | 037: Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was always kind of the best holiday. The soup kitchens had the best food then and the store owners would sometimes sneak the kids a little something and people were a little nicer - you could sometimes even get someone to let you sleep in a warmish warehouse that weekend. For nothing, even.

Long as you were smart enough to be gone before things started up again that Monday.

Christmas was never so good because everyone was too busy with their own things and they'd already spent tons of money. And 'cause Dad always started drinking mid-December and usually ended up locked up somewhere off and on which meant I couldn't even try and stay at a shelter. Too many questions and it wasn't safe to be little and there alone.

No matter where we ended up though, there were always a handful of kids in the same boat. And you know, for a price you could usually get somebody to look the other way so you all could be a little bit out of the cold. Luckily, Dad never really went anywhere that was super cold. Snow... that would have been really bad.

But Thanksgiving... Thanksgiving could be pretty good.

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Mat instantly began to relax against her as she soothed him. The song was soft and he found himself smiling as he listened to it. Rain was being so gentle and he appreciated that.

"The little ones must have really liked you." He could tell. Just by being with with her now.

Rain was cradling him against her, her face resting gently against his hair as she soothed and he could probably almost feel the smile, though he wouldn't know how sad it was.

"I don't know. I hope so. I tried to help as much as I could. A lot of them weren't as tough or quick as me. Or they were just too tiny to last long alone."

He closed his eyes then. "Like the little ones at home."

"Did you have little ones you couldn't help, too?" she asked quietly, hands never stopping in their movements.

Mat couldn't answer at first. Memories were racing through his head. But then he nodded. "Yes. There were."

"I'm sorry," she whispered and pressed her lips gently to his head. Her hands moved to stroke his face and hair - barely touching, just enough to express her caring. "I'm sure you did what you could. Just like me. But I know it still hurts."

"It hurts every bloody time." What was worse was that he could remember their faces. "But Light, I tried."

"I know you did," she said, cradling him close, and kissing the side of his head again. "I know how hard you must have tried."

"It's so bloody frustrating." He opened his eyes and looked straight ahead.

Her heart hurt for him, just as it had for the little ones. "Sometimes all I could do was hold them while they died. So they weren't alone."

"That's something." He nodded a little. "Something to help them."

"We did all we could."

"Yes." He smiled.

Her hands had slowed gradually, so now she was simply cradling him from behind, her arms wrapped loosely around him. "Any better?"

"Much better." He leaned his head back to kiss her cheek softly. "Thank you, Rain."

"You're welcome," she said softly. "Just rest now."

He smiled again and just kept resting against her. "I'll do that."

She stroked his hair gently. "If you want to sleep, go ahead, I don't mind."

"That's a bloody tempting idea. Thank you."

She continued to stroke soothingly and began quietly singing the lullaby again.

He couldn't help it. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

Rain let her song fade away as she felt him slip into sleep. She shifted a little to make herself more comfortable, but still held onto him. After awhile she drifted off herself, feeling safe with Mat there in her arms.

037: Thanksgiving

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