Something drew you to Captain John Graves Simcoe. Maybe it was because he was so intense. Or perhaps it was because he was dangerous. Or maybe you were just attracted to him. You didn't know, but you knew that you didn't see him the way everyone else saw him, especially not your guardian or his son. Your guardian was somewhat afraid of him, especially when he took Major Hewlett's place in your home. And Abraham? Abraham hated him.

You were different. The man was a monster, to be sure; an absolute beast. But you thought that maybe it was because no one had ever shown him what love was or because no one had really given him a chance to earn their love simply because he was a British soldier or because he had something of a temper. You didn't know why, but part of you was determined to change that.

So, whenever you saw him, you gave him a smile or a warm greeting. You brought him his meals and left without a word. You made sure his needs such as food, clean clothing, and clean linens were met. Sure, you could have asked Aberdeen, but you preferred to do it yourself. You didn't like having her serve you or anyone else. However, your attempts to get close the Captain were for naught. At least until the night Robert Rogers snuck onto your guardian's property.

You were restless that night, up late reading and listening to the sounds around the house. You heard a bath being prepared in the room next to yours. You heard the sounds of soldiers guarding the house outside. And occasionally, you heard Simcoe's steps echoing throughout the house. But then, you heard a two sounds you never wanted to hear. A gunshot and a deep scream.

For a moment, you couldn't move. What was happening? But then, you were out of bed, pulling on your housecoat. Voices drifted to you, one angry and one frightened, prompting you to throw open the door. You wanted to scream at the sight before you. Simcoe was standing in Mary's doorway, a hand pressed to his now bloody ear, glaring at her.

"Captain!" He turned to you and you swore his eyes softened a bit. Wasting no time, you took his hand and pulled him away from Mary's door and downstairs into the study. "Sit," you ordered, earning a raised brow from him. You sighed. "Please?" His blue eyes never left yours as he did as you asked. Once he was seated, you rushed toward the front door. You pulled it open and ordered one of the men to rush into town to wake the doctor.

Then, you were back at Simcoe's side. You gently pushed his hand away from his wound. Grabbing your own handkerchief, you pressed your hands to his ear. "What happened?" you asked after a moment. Simcoe's expression screwed up into one of pure rage. That was the look that had everyone so afraid of him. But not you. You knew the rage wasn't directed at you. "Rogers," he growled. You rolled your eyes. "Perhaps you should give up on vendetta against the man. He is clearly more dangerous than any of us thought."

Simcoe's hand shot out to grab your wrist. You met his gaze and a shudder ran down your spine. "As am I so perhaps you shouldn't stick your nose into matters that down concern you." You let out a huff, ripping your hand from his grip. "Well forgive me for caring enough to keep you safe!" You threw your handkerchief at him and turned to leave only for him to grab your hand again.

You stopped so you wouldn't hurt either yourself or him. You glanced at him over your shoulder. "Why do you care?" he asked. Once again, you found yourself lost in his eyes for a moment. But your brows furrowed when it registered what he asked. "What do you mean? Is it not human decency to care for others?"

Simcoe looked like he didn't know how to respond to that. You turned back around to face him fully again. Without looking away from him, you stepped closer. You moved like someone who didn't want to frighten away a baby deer. Your fingers brushed against his as you took the cloth from him to take over staunching his wound again.

"You aren't afraid of me," he said matter-of-factly. You gave him a small smile. "Of course not. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you aren't frightening. At least not to me." His brows furrowed before he hissed a bit. "Sorry," you said when you realized you'd finally found the sensitive spot on his ear. "Everyone else is." You sighed.

*Simcoe's POV*

You were so close. So very close and yet, not close enough. John was on edge as he waited for you to reply to his last comment. "Everyone else in this town is afraid of anything and anyone that is...different from them. I don't see you the way they do," you finally said after a few moments, "You aren't a beast, John."

John fought back a shiver at your use of his given name. "You don't think so?" You shook your head slightly. "I do not. I think you've never had anyone to care for you. To love you for who you are. That can make anyone see the world the way you do. It does not excuse your actions, but I can more easily forgive them."

When your gaze flickered to John's again, he swore you were all that was pure and good in the world. He gingerly reached out to let his fingers brush against the ones on your free hand. He was almost suffocating in the intimacy of the moment. He wasn't used to anyone being so gentle or soft with him. He didn't know how to react to you. That bothered him, but he realized that you were right. He'd never had anyone to show him how to love or care for others. Maybe what he was feeling right now was exactly right.

Before John could respond, the front door flew open and the doctor came rushing into the room. You stepped away in order to avoid any gossip surrounding the two of you. John frowned. He didn't want you to step away from him. Quite the opposite. He turned his glare on the doctor, who shrank away a little bit.

"Thank you, Miss Y/L/N. I will take it from here." You nodded and moved to leave. "She stays," John nearly barked at the doctor, making you freeze. John looked back to you and continued, "If you are willing, that is." You smiled at him and John was grateful he was sitting. Your smile made him weak in the knees. (Not that he'd admit that out loud.) "As long as you need me," you stated softly so that only he could hear. That was the beginning of something unexpected and beautiful.