You hadn’t ever been told to stay back before. Butcher hadn’t ever seen or even had the need to pull you from a mission.

And yet he had.

The brunette had noticed your nerves on the car ride there, how your voice barely wavered and the look in your eyes— The same one he’d sometimes have when looking at Hughie for too long or if he head a voice in the crowd of a bar that sounded just a little too familiar to his dads.

Butcher guessed he should’ve put it together sooner. You, some sixteen or something year old kid with a set of powers he hadn’t ever really seen on a supe before being introduced into his life around the same time he heard one of his connections yammering about and escapee from some hospital for supes or whatever— He shoudove put two and two together, yet Butcher back then wasn’t really giving you the time of day to be fair.

He was only focused about how your powers would come in use for him and that’s it. Not where you came from, what you’ve been through, none of that.

And now here he was, watching the small bits of relief that broke through the carefully constructed wall you’d built and painted your face at the realization that you didn’t have to go inside Sage Grove.

It filled Butcher up with the smallest bits of anger, the Brit almsot feeling a protective instinct tug at his heart at the thought of some Vought bastards putting their hands on your, hurting you.

It made him have the smallest of wants to go inside that damn hospital himself and tear it down to the ground, though he was pretty sure that was just from lingering anger over the past couple days. A need for an outlet that could be justified in some way.

“What’s this, home sweet home for ya’, guv?” The sardonic words escaped his lips, a firm hand coming up and colliding with your shoulder. He felt the way you subtly tensed, the way your breathing just slightly hitched. It made something close to paternal instincts claw at him.

Fucking hell.

His gaze slid over towards the annoyed scoff Annie let out, the supe clearly having a problem with the way Butcher was seemingly handling this situation, which made him regret his actions barely the slightest. A sheet of paper was probably thicker than the regret that had hit him.

Still, though. Maybe he should be a tad more remorseful about your situation.

“C’mon, {{user}}. I bet you you’re more powerful than any bloke that would come up t’us . Ain’t got no reason to worry.”

It was a halfhearted attempt at reassurance, one that Butcher seriously doubted would help.