One eyebrow crawled up towards his hairline and he nearly reached out to check Enola's head for more serious injuries. Stopping himself just in time, Jamie straightened up. "Alright," he said, straightening up reluctantly, and pulled the bathroom door shut behind him.
The chaos child was still sound asleep. On her back, all limbs stretched out she took up a considerable size of space on the couch. The smile that was about to emerge never made it to his lips when National Security realised what seemed off with the girl.
She was taking up too much space on the couch.
His hand shot out, grabbing a handful of Izzy's jumper, and pulled her up. The girl startled awake, the initial happiness at seeing Jamie dying a swift death when she saw the look on his face. "D-daddy?"
"What have you done?" His voice was low and flat, sterile, lifeless - she'd never heard it before and it was terrifying her. "What?"
Izzy stared wide-eyed at the stranger and did what all people did when they were nose to nose with National Security. She cried - a pitiful wail that rose from the bottom of her stomach and exploded out of her small mouth.