Dan plated that stir fry, right over fluffy rice and - ta da! He'd managed to make dinner without fucking it up. So maybe he'd just tack that onto the list of Things that Impressed John. "I wasn't sure if the Uncle Dan bits were the type of trouble I wanted either," he admitted, with a low laugh. "But - she needed me." And he missed Abra - he still regretted what happened, how everything played out, especially when it came to her father. She'd never see him again and that wasn't something she'd get over. Dan hated that part, that she'd lost him. Regrets clung to him, they were there like the ghosts were, icy fingers down his spine.
The plates were set on the dining room table and he reached for John - both hands this time, wanting the palm-to-palm contact. "Here, come sit," he encouraged. Not like John couldn't have found his way on his own, but right. Dan was ever-so-helpful.
"Are you going to tell me why you feel so...interesting?" he asked, since surely he wasn't the only one who noticed.