Thanks. He gets it from his mother. [He smiles at Gene, wryly. He's not ready to talk about Angela's death, but he knows that Gene's aware of what happened to her. He's glad, for once, for the file.

The question catches him off-guard a little. He'd been scared shitless about being a father, at first, and then he'd all but forgotten he was while in France. But now, years later, he can't not think of himself as a father. Despite everything he's done, it's inextricably part of who he is.]

Sure. Yeah. [He flips to the previous page, where Tommy's a few months longer, in a sailor suit with flushed cheeks. Weirdly, he thinks of the absence of his dog tags against his chest, missing them almost as much as the boy that wears them now.] I can't take a lot of credit for him, but knowing I did something's worth it. [A beat, then:] There's nothing like it.