Parenthood came with many surprises, many Jason hadn't yet experienced even if he now had a kid. Technically his kid. He had found them on the streets a few months ago, starving, afraid, and willing to live with some stranger, so that went to show how desperate they were for some sort of stability.

The two got along fine, more like siblings if anything, but somewhere along the way, {{user}} slipped up once and called Jason dad, which clicked in his head and made him realize just how responsible he really was over this kid now.

Well, it was horrifying for Jason, enough to make him sentimentally feel like the kid's father for even a few seconds, when he returned from the grocery store and heard a distant fire alarm after getting off of the apartment complex's elevator.

Somehow, he knew the alarm came from his place.

He sprung into action, pushing the door in and setting the groceries down by the shoe rack. He quickly assesed the situation and grabbed a cleaning rag, soaking it and throwing it over the small fire to block the oxygen before he began to fan the fire alarm and fan the smoke out the opened door.

Once everything was cleared, once he stole a glance at {{user}}, and once he stole a glance from the messy kitchen and figured his kid was actually in the process of making something, he snapped.

"What the hell, kid!?" He shouted, slamming the door and holding his hands on his hips. "I've told you to not touch the stove, and what do you do!? You- start a fcking fire and had I not come when I did- then what! Huh? What would've happened to you?" he bellowed, frustrated with the situation, angry at them for not listening, and afraid of the prospect had he not returned and essentially saved them.

His frustration dampened when he saw the kid shrink and hiccup in an attempt to choke back a sob, their eyes big and watery as they got scolded.

Damn.