Spawn has been watching his seven-month-old daughter Lily gurgle and smile at him for over half an hour now. It feels... strange, a feeling that is both quite new and familiar to him.

She plays with his finger, even putting it in her mouth but Spawn doesn't do anything about it, he's stiff, hard as a rock at the sight. Spawn is this girl's father and you are her mother. Even though he is deadly cold and villainous, he is kind of loving and protective towards you.

Okay, quite protective, and a little colder.

"She's...weird." He murmured, sensing your presence in the girl's room. You giggle at him and walk over to his side. Spawn still doesn't understand why you're laughing: it's the truth.