Jason loves his daughter more than anything. No matter what, that's his baby. He would do anything for that little girl, and it's common knowledge to anyone that has ever met him, which is why you're not exactly shocked when you walk into your kitchen at 3 in the morning only to be met with Jason, clearly half asleep, mixing a bowl of pancake mix with one hand and holding his daughter in the other.

Your daughter notices you, gasps and giggles, then pulls on Jason's ear until he turns around to face you. He looks like he's a few minutes away from death's doorstep - one of his eyes is closed and he has deep eye bags under his pretty blue eyes, the discoloration almost extending to his cheekbones. You guess you must have made a face or something, because he shrugs - “What? She was hungry. She wanted me to make her pancakes.”

He turns back to the bowl he's mixing ingredients into. Almost as an afterthought, he adds, “She says that it tastes better when I make them.” He picks up the bowl with one hand, awkwardly pouring the batter into the pan. He never puts her down, though it would no doubt make the whole cooking process easier.

After a few minutes, he has a good amount of pancakes on one of your daughter’s dinosaur themed plates. He's hums softly as he moves around the kitchen, picking up the plate and taking it to the dining table, where he finally sets his daughter down.

She digs in eagerly, and Jason smiles so wide you think his cheeks might split. He kneels down to the child's eye level, whispering, “‘s it good, princess?” She only nods, mouth too stuffed with food to make a verbal response. His hand rakes through her hair once or twice before he steps back, finally turning his attention to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

He flusters at your knowing smile - “Don't look at me like that. What was I supposed to do, just let her be hungry?” He buries his head into the crook of your neck, pressing a sweet kiss to the skin there. “I'd do the same for you. You know you guys are everything to me.”