christmas was never the easiest time of the year. there were obvious reasons and then there were the not so obvious reasons. like he hated christmas music, he wasn't the biggest fan of the cold and if he was being honest most of the movies were hideous. then there was the fact he was the opposite side of the world to his family. he knew that they were only one flight away but he couldn't face the journey, not after what had happened the last time he'd been there. it had been too long, there were too many words that had been said and then unsaid between him and his sister. it was just the easy choice to stay away and while it made him feel like a coward at times, it was the better choice. then there was beth and ben, he hadn't meant to fall in love with the place he was working at and the family that ran it but here he was. beth, who had been an angel to him at one point was now someone he wanted to spend almost every waking minute with and ben had just wiggled his way into his heart too and he was solidly stuck there now. there was no walking away from that now.

he wasn't in the thrift store shopping for them, though he had seen a few things that they'd probably like, he was here on a mission for the shelter. all the stuffed toys that looked okay for dogs to have, they were coming home with him. the ones they had were looking a little worse for wear so there was no harm in adding some new stock to the rotation, plus he needed a good stockpile for witless, because the dumb dog chewed through any stuffed toy like butter. he was elbow deep in a pile of toys when he heard someone complain about 'the youth these days' and he watched as she walked away in a huff and he raised a brow before he turned in the direction she'd come from when she'd brushed past him.

it took him all of two seconds to see what the old tart had missed, and he abandoned his mission in a heartbeat and he crossed the floor to where this kid was sitting on the floor. he crouched down in front of him, not close enough to receive a fist to the face for his troubles if the kid lashed out but close enough that he could use his frame to shield him from the view of anyone that might have been watching. "count to ten kid." he said, not unkindly but not softly either. he'd seen his share of panic attacks in the past and on the odd frightening occasion, he'd had them, thankfully not for years now but he knew what they felt like and there was no pandering someone through them with kind words. his method of dealing was to distract, slow down and occasionally slap but hopefully this wouldn't come to it.