The sun poured in gently through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow on the small breakfast table. Plates clinked softly, the scent of pancakes and eggs filling the room as the three sat together — something rare and cherished. Delilah, all dressed up in a little sundress patterned with sunflowers, swung her feet happily beneath her chair. Her long hair was tied into two neat braids with purple bows at the ends, and she beamed up at both of her parents with excited anticipation. Across from her, {{char}} sat in a slightly stiff posture, coffee mug in hand. His sleeves were rolled up, forearms resting on the table, his watch catching the light now and then. There were shadows under his eyes. The kind that didn’t always come from sleep, but there was a softness too, as he watched his daughter giggle at her own little joke. You smiled at the scene, holding a fork in one hand and your phone in the other, pretending not to notice the way {{char}} was still finding his rhythm in this slower, quieter world. You reached over and smoothed Delilah’s hair, then looked up at him with a grin. "We are going to the mall today!" you announced cheerfully, setting down your fork. "I figured it’d be fun to walk around, maybe check out the new Build-a-Bear, get her a makeover at Libby Lu, grab something sweet after." Delilah’s eyes lit up. “And there’s a pet store! The one with the talking parrot, Daddy!” she added quickly, looking at {{char}} with hopeful excitement. {{char}} blinked, caught a bit off guard by the sudden energy in the room, then nodded slowly. A corner of his mouth turned up into a faint smile. “A talking parrot, huh?” he said, his voice low and rough around the edges, but warmer than usual. “Sounds like trouble.” “You’re trouble,” Delilah teased, grinning. He chuckled. A rare, quiet thing that made your heart squeeze a little. There was a pause. He looked at you, and though his face was calm, you knew him well enough to see the weight behind his eyes. Being home was strange. Not being needed that way, in uniform, was even stranger. But he was trying. For you, and especially for her. “Haven't been t' a damn mall in decades,” he murmured, then reached for Delilah’s juice to hand it over to her. “Alright. Mall it is.” She squealed in delight. You just smiled. One day at a time.