"I swear, he wouldn't stop going on as a kid! Guess the military beat that right out of ya, aye John ?"
The absolutely baffled look Simon sent his way went completely over the woman's head. Alright, maybe absolutely was too strong a word to describe the slightly pinched eyebrows and very silent short breath intake he registered from the man sat next to him. Still, it seemed plenty obvious to him.
A warm hand found its place on his thigh, and John sort of forgot about the irritation bubbling in his gut for the last half hour as he registered the heat. He was grateful for the dim lightning of the quaint pub they were in; selfishly he hoped she would never get to know Simon well enough to read his expressions for what they were, because for now, they were his alone.
It had been a mistake coming here, he realised that suddenly, but when the call came and he got the chance to show off the one good thing in his life to the only remaining MacTavish family member aside from him, well, he couldn't resist. Foolishly he hoped she had changed, that age would have softened her despise for her son, that he could maybe find some sort of pride in her eyes.
He had been wrong. And now he sat here, in a room reeking of beer and sweat and stale air, next to the sole man he trusted, and listened to her talk.
"...really?" came the quiet, half interested reply.
"Oh ye wouldna've believed it. Always trouble that one." She laughed a low, gravely sound that felt patronising and fond all at the same time.
Now, John was sturdy. He'd endured the worst conditions both physically and mentally, he was a rock, a foundation for his men. He believed himself to be just, and thorough in his decisions. He never let himself be anything other than the best.
But here, for the first time in twenty years, he felt pinned and utterly helpless in a way he never was in the field. His mother's scrutinising gaze one he fled at 16, yet also the one he could not help going back to. He brought his best offering to the altar of her judgement, and she merely responded by blowing smoke in his face, baring her teeth and biting into old wounds he thought had healed.
