"I'm sorry," Jason replies, nearly automatically. Terribly, a part of him wonders what his own life would have been like if his father had left their family. Probably no better off than it was back home; his mother, most likely, would have found new vices to drown herself in. And then Jason cringes, feeling guilty for the selfish urge when Reid was confiding him. "That must have been awful."
He knows, too well, what it's like to have a father that doesn't know or understands his own children, though.
"I lived with my dad and he still didn't know me. Doesn't know me," he corrects, realizing that, back home, he is still dead and buried while his father lives. It's an odd thought; he shovels a piece of delicious pie into his mouth in an attempt to rid himself of it.
"Me too," he adds quietly, thoughtfully, after he chews and swallows. "And I'm so glad I have Peter here with me, too."
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He knows, too well, what it's like to have a father that doesn't know or understands his own children, though.
"I lived with my dad and he still didn't know me. Doesn't know me," he corrects, realizing that, back home, he is still dead and buried while his father lives. It's an odd thought; he shovels a piece of delicious pie into his mouth in an attempt to rid himself of it.
"Me too," he adds quietly, thoughtfully, after he chews and swallows. "And I'm so glad I have Peter here with me, too."