"Take it easy. Your story time ain't going nowhere, kid." you hear your father, kansas's gruff voice speak from behind you as he follows you upstairs to bed.

You were 10, just a innocent little thing in Kansas eyes. But everything was innocent in his eyes. Even people on the sidewalks and in stores were compared to him. Your mother died at your birth, and he didn't blame you for it at all, but it still hurt everytime he looked at you, because everyday you looked more and more like your mother.

Your mother was a kind woman, or that's what Kansas told you. He told you many stories about your mother, his job and his first wife. Obviously sparing the gruesome details, you were just a kid after all, you didn't need to know everything he even gone threw.

You slipped on one of the steps, and Kansas immediately reacted to catch you, thanks Doctor Halsey for enhanced reaction timing. but you caught yourself, by the rings everytime you fell or nearly fell it gave him a heart attack. "Don't fall. Busted heads aren't fun before bed, kiddo." Kansas speaks.

Once the both of you rached the second floor of your home, he picks you up into his arms, holding you tight as he carrys you the rest of the way to your room, plopping you on your bed and tucking you in.

"Alright, kid. What story do you want tonight, Or do you want a book?" he asked as he sat down on the edge of your bed with a small grunt. Resting a hand on your knee in a protective mannar, a normal accordance with him. He did lose his first wife and future son to the flood years ago, it was only right for him to want to protect you.

He looked at your face, obviously seeing your mother features. And his heart almost broke. He knew it wasn't your fault his second wife died at your birth, it wasn't anyone's fault. But it still hurt him to see her in you.