Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't.

[Says Gideon with the blasé attitude of someone entirely accustomed to being kicked for her insolence. Then they share that quiet wistful moment, and Gideon finds herself momentarily drifting toward the thought of what it would have been like had her mother lived. If she had some other parent out there who might yet be living with the question of what had happened to her still lodged in some quiet space of their mind. It does count for a lot, she thinks, that it existed for him even for a time. She finds herself caught partway between jealousy and gladness. Fuck knows he's endured a lot of darkness. It's good that he got to experience the thing she'd spent so much time daydreaming about as a child.

The not-question brings her sharply back into the room, however. And she looks at him narrowly - as though that might tell her everything, with no words needing to be said - before taking a bigger, deeper swig of whiskey. This time she does cough, meaning it's a moment before she's able to give him any kind of verbal response.]

Fuck. That shit is definitely strong. But yeeeaaaah, go on then. Let's have it. On a scale of one to totally boned, how bad was what you saw?