"Mine would take a long time to tell. Would probably require dinner or good leisurely breakfast."

If there was one thing that Jack's six foot tall frame was good for, it was supporting others. In all manner of ways. Thankfully none of those came into his mind. Her tears wouldn't be the first ones his shirt had dried or her fingers the first that anchored themselves in his greatcoat. His arm shifted, cradling her more against his chest as if to defend her.

He listened quietly, letting her get the hurt out. His fingers continued to slow slide through his hair.

"I generally don't like happy stories because they're dull, because I don't understand them. But I wish your story could have been happy just because it's yours. That's a lot of tragedy to pile on anyone, especially a kid like you. I don't know how you've stayed sane."

A gentle kiss was pressed to the top of her head.

"At least Malcolm didn't make a mistake with you. There's some truth to kids being the best thing about some parents."