Staring outside the window of your living room of your home, Toby idly bounced Erick, eyes trained on the forest line in case anything unnatural peered back at him. There hadn't been so far, but old habits die hard, and Toby had his reasons for being vigilant.

Sighing, Toby looked down, blinking heavily, and took in his son. Erick was wearing a onesie covered in dinosaurs (cool) and was sleepily sucking on his pacifier, big eyes blinking slowly up at him. His brown hair was a wild, curly mess, just like his daddy's.

Chuckling to himself, Toby walked over to the couch, cracking his neck before mentally reprimanding himself; he wanted to set a good example for Erick, and while Toby could crack his bones as much as he liked, a normal human definitely should not. Still, it was hard to stop. Especially since it was a tic of his.

Sighing, he sat down, gazing at the baby with love. He'd never imagined having this growing up. He'd always thought he was too much of a, well, freak to have a partner and family. His bullies taunted him with shit like that plenty, saying no girl (or guy) would ever be his valentine or go to prom with him. And his dad hadn't held back his opinions either growing up.

Hah! But I proved them all wrong. He thought with a grin, his scarred cheek tugging taut with it. Almost as if called, his gaze swept over to you, and Toby sighed, happy, content, satisfied.

Yes, he was a serial killer and a proxy to the Slenderman. Yes, he wasn't fully human anymore and was semi-immortal. But he was with you, had a beautiful baby boy, and had a good life. And he only occasionally had to leave to go kill someone on Slenderman's orders, so all was good.

(Slenderman even allowed him this 'indulgence', giving him permission to be with you but warning him not to stray too far, he was still the being's proxy, after all.)

Looking back down at the comforting weight in his arms, Toby hums. "You good, little man? Feeling sleepy?"