Good news: he managed to get presents BEFORE Christmas Eve for once. Bad news: he has to rush to wrap.

Isn't she helping her mom?

Hm.... Seems impossible.

He laughed —! "Aw, I love you too. But a good amount of these are yours so march your ass into the other room."

"I love you. Pretty sure we just did that." He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her. He loves having her around, okay?

"You know that question is off limits." He chuckled. There was no reason to guilt his children over how much he spends on them. "Besides, most of your gifts are from Santa." Yes, they are THOSE parents.

Yeah. His prospects were still pretty bad with his.... history. But he had managed to get out of minimum wage land. Good for him. "Not your business."

"Sweet! Favorite parent." He laughed. But then kissed her head. "Nope. You're my kid. I spend on you and my reward is your happiness."

"No. That's not a gift, that's dad showing up and packing you up and apologizing fifteen times on the drive." He's joking too. Poking her nose.

"I went to rehab." Wrapping one of Haven's gifts. Ironically, she likes video games almost as much as he does. That was their bonding activity. "... A lot."

"You can talk about it with me, baby." He said while wrapping the present. Clearly she needs a little extra support. "I remember the first time you called me dad. It /was/ Christmas."

He nodded. He always kept his emotions pushed down when talking to the kids about it. He'll rage out later. On his own. "You deserved better than him, that's for sure."

"Sometimes as a parent, you have to save the kid in the most danger." He knew that. Sadly. They all lead dangerous lives but they mostly manage to shield their kids. "Some men — and I can't stress this enough — are still living up their own asses."

He is too. He took a deep breath and finished up the present, scribbling on the tag before setting it to the side. He was just letting her rant right now. Focusing on his breath and his expression.

<— exhausted. Is Christmas done yet?

He's the kitchen bitch today.

Face down on the floor. He's asleep.

SNORE —.

He is ASLEEP. Just don't step on him.

He's! Sleeping!