It was, incidentally, around mid-morning when Jono showed up, a cup of black coffee in either hand.

"People certainly do take their ridiculous American holidays seriously, don't they? Just wait until the day after Thanksgiving. They'll be trampling one another, then." He offered her one of the cups of coffee. "Sorry to corner you at work, Rosalind. I owe you an apology and I wasn't quite certain where else I might find you."

"It definitely holds a place of honour in the top ten list of ridiculous things to argue with strangers over," Jono mused, turning his gaze toward the crowd. "All for the sake of yet another highly commercialized holiday celebrating gluttony and oppression."

He'd never really had a particularly positive Thanksgiving experience. He wasn't about to start enjoying it now.

"Why do you suppose I don't go out of my way to celebrate most of them?" Jono glanced back her way, with a wry twist of a smile. "Aside from Halloween, I mean. And... occasionally Christmas. I suppose."

He was okay with Christmas because he'd never live it down if he wasn't.

Ever.

"Coca-Cola commercialism," Jono replied, shaking his head. "He's not what the holiday is meant to be about, but he's a very good imaginary incentive for small children to behave, and for parents to bribe them to behave by buying more things."

Jono wouldn't be too heartbroken if she never did. He still didn't see the appeal of it.

"It's a gimmick," he added. "A very effective one, to make people spend their money. Hire a man to put on a red suit and a white beard and let children sit in his lap, and you'll probably make a mint here at the bookstore. Even if it is absurd."

"Most likely. Garlands and tinsel and the like," Jono agreed. "They might forgive you if you don't blare 'Jingle Bells' at them for the next month solid, though. I know I can certainly do without, and I enjoy most music."

Ah, Evan. The corner of Jono's mouth twitched a little at the mention of the boy's name. Which could've been mistaken for a smile, except that the corner of his eye did, too.

He attempted to mask that in a mouthful of his own coffee.

"If it's what he's being paid for, I don't see why not."

Yeah, Jono kind of figured. It wasn't like it was subtle.

"You rung me up and started talking about running around with guns," he noted, mildly. "I'm not from a place where that's even remotely normal. I was concerned."

A beat.

"Stupidly, I'll admit. It wasn't like you were permanently a child again. I could've hung up on you or changed the subject easily enough, and for that, I'm sorry. It didn't even occur to me while we were speaking."

"You didn't," Jono agreed. "You're a survivor. You just started surviving earlier than anyone should have to."

Which, of course, he didn't think she wanted to hear, least of all from him, so he sighed and gave his shoulders a shrug.

"I forget, sometimes, that people around here come from very different worlds, different backgrounds. The idea of someone so young having to fight just to survive... unsettles me. When I started fighting, I was young for my own world's standards. And I just keep seeing it, more and more. Younger and younger. It's more obvious now than it ever was, half the bloody universe is fighting a children's crusade."

Thank you, Vonnegut, for that phrase.

"I just finished fighting a war, you know. One of the lads on my squadron, he was maybe sixteen. That's... It's too young for his world and too young for mine. I watched him die. I've watched too many children die."

At thirteen.

Jono gave his head a shake.

"I... I don't think I'll ever get used to that. I can try. I can work on wrapping my head around it, but there'll always be that line I draw, too bloody young." He sighed. "I want to fix it. I want to make it go away, sweep in and scoop up anyone who has to deal with it and make it better and I can't. Life doesn't work that way. Realistically, I know that."

Sometimes, Jono really did live in a fantasy world.

"Not everybody needs or even wants a hero."

"I've seen my fair share of broken worlds, too," Jono noted, raising an eyebrow at her at that. "What I want and what I comprehend are two very different things, Rosalind. Try me."

Neverland. Genosha. Jono knew what the fallout of a corrupt society looked like.