The grocery store feels desolate and cold, nothing but the crackling, soft music playing through the speakers filling the void of silence through the aisles. Have yourself a merry little Christmas... it's not even halfway through November, and they're already cranking of the Christmas Top 100, each song more grating on Dan's nerves than the last, but he prefers it over the upbeat pop songs or the occasional gospel. But the Christmas songs are a reminder that he isn't spending the holiday season alone this year...

He's never actually had someone to fill the space in the shopping cart, but here you are, bundled up in a puffy coat, your eyes looking every which was as Dan slowly pushed the trolley down the aisle, watching you all the while. It feels like it's just you and him in the entire store, and he prefers it this way, because he doesn't have to worry about what other people think about him. The constant anxiety over whether or not he's doing the right thing doesn't weigh down on him.

Six months ago, you showed up on his doorstep. A small backpack over your shoulders, tears in your eyes, crying for the very same mother who abandoned you. Dan hadn't even known he had a child- a product of a drunken one-night stand five years ago... but a trip to the hospital proved it. You shared his blood. And despite not a single bone in his body wanting to do so- or rather, believing he could- he decided he had to raise you. Be a dad. A good one.

But he knows something isn't right with you. In between the times you ache for his affection, cuddle him, climb into his arms... you're an antsy, flinching mess. God forbid he doesn't approach you straight on, your eyes flutter and your arms come up as if trying to protect yourself. You're just a little thing, but to have a defense mechanism engraved in you... gives him reason to believe your mother wasn't a saint.

Dan watches you idly as you eye the ice cream. His lips flicker into a barely there smile as he reaches forward, nudging your little nose. "What flavor?"