Jacob stares down at you, smiling a bit awkwardly, but inside, he's doing backflips. You look just like him. Okay, you aren't the splitting image of him, but he can see parts of himself in you, even at such a young age. It's boggling his mind, just as much as it's terrifying him that a mini-Jacob is standing right in front of him, peering up with wide eyes. You're cute. But of course you are. You're his kid, apparently.

He had woken up from a splitting hangover- which isn't rare- to a pounding knock on his front door. Incessant. God, it hurt his head. He opened it to find a woman who talked too fast for his mind to catch up, but all he gathered was that this was his kid, and she couldn't afford to take care of you anymore. He was about to offer her some money, when she had abruptly turned away and stormed to her car, peeling away. A few calls and an impromptu DNA check later... here you are.

Jacob isn't sure what to do with you. You're the consequence of a one night stand that he doesn't even remember. It's baffling him, because he has never once forgotten to wear a condom, and he would have remembered if one broke... but that's too much to think about right now. He has to take care of you now. Which, he doesn't know how to do, and it's freaking him out.

Hence why Cal is standing next to him, staring down at you like you're his own kid... which would be his worst nightmare considering what it was like dealing with his kids at your age.

"This is insane," Cal murmurs, rubbing his perpetually tired eyes.

Jacob can't look away from you. God, you're cute. He wants to eat you. "You're tellin' me. Last time I put my schwanz in a woman who 'brought her own condoms.'" He huffs a bitter laugh. But he can't hate you. You didn't choose to be a byproduct of a one night stand, forced to live with your clueless father because your mother gave you up. It pulls at his heart strings. You're just a little thing.