"Sounds like they're at it again," came Anne's dejected voice. No one bothered to ask what she was talking about. They all heard the muffled ranting coming from outside the doors.

W. D. huffed, stepping closer to his sister. They shared a knowing look, and went about their business.

A frown tugged at Barnum's lips. He let his red coat dangle from the coat rack. They'd just finished their last show for the night, and already their spirits were sinking. Not if he could help it.

"You know what, how about you all come back to the house with me tonight?" Several heads looked up in surprise. "I know I've never had most of you over, and the girls would be absolutely thrilled to see their favorite people."

There were a few seconds of quiet. Charles was the first to speak up. "Throw a few rounds of poker in, and I'm down."

Lettie chuckled and fanned herself with a wooden fan. "It's not like I've got better things to do. Is alcohol going to be involved in any way?"

Few by few, they happily accepted Barnum's proposition to accompany him home for a few hours. He was throwing his coat on when he realized the protesters were still causing a disturbance outside.

"Give me a moment and I'll see if I can settle them down," he said.

Phillip cast a worried look in his direction. "I can come with."

Barnum waved him off. It was best to handle this alone. "Nonsense, I'll be back in a jiffy."

A wave of cold hit him hard when he opened the door, he tucked his chin in and slammed the door behind him. The eyes of four dirty, ragged men holding torches fell on him with disgust seething in their eyes.

"About time we got one out here," one growled, spitting at Barnum's feet. Maybe his name was Joe. He looked like a Joe.

He kept his expression neutral. "Gentlemen, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave the premises. We're done for tonight."

Another one with a crooked nose sneered. He'd call that one Crook. "'Gentlemen?' He don't know nothing about us, then, fellas."

"'Ey, Bert," a third said, jabbing the fourth in the ribs. "Don't you think he looks kinda pretty?"

He wrinkled his nose. "You've always been on the queer side, Ernie. Have at him, but I sure as hell ain't joining."

In an instant he was shoved against the alley wall by two pairs of strong hands. A hand grabbed his crotch. Barnum's blood turned to ice. This wasn't real. It was a nightmare. It had to be. But the sudden realization of what would've happened if Phillip had accompanied him hit him. Phillip, who was younger. Who had more of an innocent, 'pretty boy' look. Who was shorter and more slender than him. Through the present terror, he was relieved he'd come alone.

Ernie feigned a look of shock. "I'm sorry, does this make you uncomfortable?" His breath was hot and smelled like rum. "Can't imagine how that must feel on the opposite end, someone making you uncomfortable."

Ernie's grip tightened. Barnum made a quiet choking sound. He pulled against the arms holding him in place. "They're not hurting anyone! Just leave us alone and we can all go our own separate ways."

A fist crashed against his jaw. There was an audible crack as his head snapped against the brick. Waves of pain rolled down through his neck and even into his shoulders.

"They're unnatural freaks," the voice next to his ear hissed. It was Crook. His tongue grazed across Barnum's jawline.

What happened next seemed to not be in Barnum's control. It was impulse. A gut reaction. He reared his head back and threw it into Crook's nose, sending him back. But the action left his head spinning and aching. A well aimed front kick to his side was all it took to send him crashing down. Not a second too soon, he curled into a ball and covered his head and face with his arms before his body was pelted with kicks and stomps. His coat managed to serve a small amount of protection, but he knew he'd have rather large bruises the next day. Thankfully, all of the strikes were aimed to body that was covered in clothing. Good; he didn't want anyone to worry.

After what seemed like an eternity (when really, it was only a matter of seconds), the assault subsided as a voice grumbled. "Let's leave him be now. Don't want to attract any attention."

Barnum waited until their voices and laughter faded to uncurl himself. Maybe it was caution, maybe it was pain that wanted him to procrastinate. Whatever it was, it did nothing to subside the ache beginning to spread deep inside all of his muscles. Bare palms pressed to the light coat of frost on the ground, he pushed himself to his feet with a low groan. He limped to the doors, glancing up and down the street to make sure it was free of troublemakers. He was shaking. The suspense of the situation was one of the most fear-filled, intense moments of his life. He was pretty sure that was his heart pounding in his ears. Or maybe that was the concussion. He took slow breaths in an attempt to steady them. Hand on the door, he waited for his hands to quit shaking, or at least slow their trembling, before pushing the door open.

Charles had just made a joke. Laughter filled the walls. Barnum winced.

Smiles from ear to ear, shoulders shaking in laughter, they were happy. W. D. hugged Anne. Lettie and Phillip's arms were over each other's shoulders. Who was he to take that away from them? He waved them on with a smile that took too much effort. "Finally got them to leave! Let's be on our way."

The group bounded over, eager to see Charity and the girls again. On the streets, Phillip lagged behind to walk with Barnum. He was still smiling, burdens in the wind. "How'd you manage to make them leave?" he asked, clapping Barnum on the back. It jarred his head and abused his already-forming bruises.

He held back a cry and forced a smirk. "Don't tell me you're doubtful of my powers of persuasion, now. What matters is they're gone, right?"

Phillip gave a short laugh. "I guess you're right. Thanks for looking out for us, old man."

Anne joined them with a smile as Phillip wrapped an arm around her. "Couldn't ask for a better guardian." Her voice sounded sincere.

'Guardian.' Barnum liked the sound of that.