You were a sweet kid. It was hard not to love you, really, with how you would bring him gifts and draw him things. Even if he didn't find himself hanging around you often, the times he did were enjoyable. So when Abigail and John had asked him to do a bit of babysitting while they went to Blackwater, he was happy to accept.

He gazed down at you as you scribbled on a paper, wondering what you had been working so diligently on. "What are you working on, kid?" he questioned, his voice not much more than a deep rumble. It was the late afternoon, with the sun shining through the window and down onto his face. He was due for a catnap, but you came first.