Hugo sat up in his pile of blankets, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced around the cabin, confused; this wasn't his room. Then he noticed the tall mister leaning against the wall next to his makeshift bed, and it all came flooding painfully back.

Waking up here, disoriented, then remembering just how far he was from home—the same thing had been happening for weeks now, but somehow he never really got used to it.

"Mornin', kid," Dedan said with a nod.

"Hi, tall mister," Hugo replied in a voice cracked and thin from disuse. "Where's the bird and the big mister?"

"Left early. We'll be foraging farther afield from now on. Speakin' of which, how'd you like the stew last night?"

"It was okay." Hugo wrinkled his nose. "I didn't like the green things, though. They tasted like poop and feet."

Dedan barked out a harsh, metallic laugh that would've frightened Hugo had he not known better. "Agreed!" he crowed. "Well, with any luck, Japhet and Enoch'll find some wild plants that don't taste like either of those things. Even better, once we find a good place to start rebuilding the world, we'll be able to have cake every day!"

Hugo smiled weakly. Cake every day would make him feel better. Especially if it was the kind Mama used to make, just for him, back when… back when…

Dedan frowned. "You okay, kid?"

The child spoke so softly that Dedan had to kneel down to catch his question. "Does Mama not love me anymore?"

"What? No! What makes you think that?" The tall mister scooped Hugo up, letting him rest his little head on one broad shoulder. "Your mama's a very busy person, and people of her status often… well, they get sort of sidetracked." Uh oh. The kid was starting to sniffle. He stumbled on, "It's not that she doesn't love you, she just has a whole lot of people to take care of, bein' a queen and all. It's almost like all her subjects are her babies."

One look at Hugo's face told Dedan he'd dug himself too deep. "But I'm her baby," he wailed.

"Of course, of course," Dedan said hastily. "That came out wrong. I just meant—" Oh, perfect, now here came the tears. "C'mon, don't cry!" he pleaded, awkwardly patting Hugo on the back. This, of course, just turned the waterworks on full blast. What now? He hated seeing the kid so miserable, but he'd always been utter shit at the whole "comforting people" thing.

A song. That's what we need, he thought. Little kids like being sung to, right?

And so, for lack of a better idea, Dedan sang.

It was immediately evident that Dedan's voice was not suited for singing. He attacked the notes all wrong, turning what should have been a gentle lullaby into a nightmare of screeching dissonances. Still, Hugo gradually fell silent. Probably just doesn't want to piss off the guy with the voice that makes his enemies soil themselves, Dedan thought wryly.

"Sorry, kid," he said once he'd brought the "song" to a close. "I know I ain't any good for this kind of thing."

"It was good," Hugo whispered into his shoulder.

"Next time we'll ask Japhet and his flock to sing for you. Y'know, people whose voices aren't complete ass. How's that sound?"

The child threw his tiny arms around his caretaker's neck, and Dedan stiffened, unused to receiving affection in any form.

"Thank you," Hugo told him, and there was a kind of quiet strength behind those two simple words that Dedan had never heard from him before.

The tall mister relaxed, holding him close.

"Don't mention it, kid."