Finally. I let out a sigh of relief as I pushed through the doors of Harrison's pre-school. This was the part of the day when I felt most… normal. Without trying, I felt like I could be one of these people, human, their children clinging to their legs. Of course I could never be truly like them. After all, I wasn't human.

"Daddy," I heard a young boy call and turned just in time to sweep my hands under his arms and pick him up. Harrison. The one truly good thing I'd ever done.

"Hey buddy. How was your day?" I smiled, poking his stomach and making him laugh. The one thing I truly cared about. I used to think the blood was the only thing that could make me calm, but him… he made me real. Suddenly I wasn't a monster. I didn't feel that need, but I couldn't stay with him forever.

"Long," He stretched out the word in his boyish voice, catching his voice from the giggles.

"Mr. Morgan," I looked up to meet eyes with one of the teachers here.

"Sister, good to see you" I nodded politely, giving the appropriate smile that I often saw parents here meet them with.

"You as well. I just wanted to make sure you would be attending parent conferences next week."

"Uh, yes ma'am. Monday, correct?" I hoisted Harrison up to sit more firmly on my hip.

"Very well. See you then, and enjoy the holidays Mr. Morgan," She nodded to me with another friendly smile as she sauntered off.

Yes, Christmas in Miami. It seemed so strange. With all the clichés of pine trees and snow, Miami didn't seem like a very festive place. Driving down the road towards my apartment I passed 4 palm trees with overly large tropical ornaments hanging from them. Honestly it was more of a half assed rip off of Christmas made to make up for the lack of Florida's ability to produce snow.

When we got home, I released Harrison inside the apartment. He dropped his bag by the front door and ran for the TV.

"Hold up, kiddo. Let's have a snack first," He ran just as eagerly towards the bar and I hoisted him up on a stool before going to hunt down a bag of cookies in the cupboard. I poured some out on a plate and filled two plastic cups with milk, setting them on the counter between me and Harrison, and leaning forward over the sink on my side.

"So what'd you learn about at school today?" I questioned, dipping a cookie in milk, and following the unspoken script of after school questions parents ask their kids.

"We learned about Christmas," Harrison said, happily, twirling side to side in his seat as he took a bite out of cookie.

"Oh yeah? And what'd they teach you about Christmas?"

"They said, we gotta write a lettwa to Santa, to tell him what we wawnt."

"So what do you want for Christmas?" I asked, nudging his shoulder playfully. Deb had already basically compiled lists for me for just about everyone I could think to buy presents for. I couldn't blame her. I generally didn't pay enough attention to guess what a suitable Christmas gift would be.

Harrison looked down, dropping his cookie into his lap. The only time I saw him like this was when he thought he was in trouble.

"I want Santa to bwing me a Mommy for Chwistmas."

"…Oh," I didn't know what to say. What do you tell your 4 year old child whose mother was killed by a serial killer who you killed when he asks for a mother for Christmas? I don't believe there was a page on that in the unspoken parent handbook, "Well Santa doesn't bring Mommies, but you know what he does bring?" I swooped around the counter and picked him up, "Toys."

Harrison still looked at me with a disheveled face, "Why can't Santa bwing me a Mommy? Taywer has a mommy, and Daniel, and Mason."

"Well, Santa doesn't make mommies. Why don't you go watch TV so daddy can get some work done and we'll write a Christmas list after dinner?"

"Okay," Harrison shrugged as I set him down.

I ran my hand down my face.

God, what was I going to tell him now?

Sorry it's short! Pretty please Review!