O'Brien knew that Leah wasn't a damsel in distress. It was one of the things that he liked about her. She was kickass. Yes, he wanted to be there for her and take care of her, but he also liked knowing that she could, at least, fend for herself, if she needed to. That, and her and her machete skills were pretty hot. But if she ever needed his help? He'd be there. In some ways, she reminded him of himself; He didn't like asking for help, and there had been times where he hadn't wanted to share his feelings or what he was going through either. But he was comfortable with Leah. He really didn't know how it happened, or what made it happen, but there had been something abot Leah that just made him more at ease, and made him fall for her, and fall hard.
He smiled, "I do. I appreciate the opportunity to protect you a lot." Shaking his head, he dropped his gaze again, though the smile was still tugging on the corners of his lips, "probably why I've got all this grey going on," he pointed up toward his hair, "and that jackass started taking bets on whether or not I'd be 50% grey by the summer." Because when the apocalypse started, he was definitely not that grey. But apparently the stress of killing zombies and running from zombies, and nearly fucking dying will do that to you. Actually, he didn't even remember being that grey until after the whole accident and being in quarantine and all of that. They'd blame the rookie. Bastard rookie.
He nodded, looking back up at her, "but yeah. I think it helps knowing that if you're in trouble, or.. or feeling sad, I know I can come try to help and you won't break my nose," he offered her a hopeful smile.
He nodded, "they are. And I want to keep it that way. And I know I can't snap my fingers and make it all go away... but.." He shrugged some, "I don't know. I mean, you're right. I know. And I am. I'm there for her, and anything she needs, I'll do it, or I'll get it, or make it happen. It just, you know... hurts to see her sad." He brought his hand up to set his hand against his chest, over his heart, to rub at it a bit.
O'Brien hadn't meant for her to feel obligated to give him direction or anything, but he did like to talk. A lot. And talking helped. Talking things through and saying them out loud had always seemed to be effective with him, and that made him feel better. He had been seeing the department's Psychologist on a regular basis, after all. He just had to talk things through. That, or it had become a bit of a habit after discussing it with the damn psychologist every week. Either way, he was grateful that Leah listened. The rookie never said much-- or fell asleep. Didn't matter. He didn't want to talk much to that guy anyway.
His brows furrowed and he nodded, "Nineteen." He sighed, "No, I mean, I know that.. But I don't know how to do that. I don't know how to be a dad. I can keep him safe, and I'm doing my best to keep him out of trouble, but that's all I know how to do." He nodded, "it is. Almost too much. I'm so fucking glad to have them, you have no idea. I just-- it is a lot. And I'm not complaining at all. I'm just trying to take it all in, understand it, and deal with it. It's a lot."