He's angry. He wants to be angry. It's such a sick feeling; it sits in the pit of his stomach like some kind of foreign body, something unnatural, that doesn't come to him easily, and for once, he wants to hold onto it.

What chips away at his resolve, though, isn't Tarantulas's words, sincere as they are. It's the way he says it. All that intensity, with that look in his eyes. And Jeff's still angry, still clutching his own resentment, but fuck if all that intensity doesn't make him want to chase after more. Jeff holds his gaze for a few moments, before he shifts his eyes and looks down at the baby.

"I am mad at you," he says, clearly directed at Tarantulas, even as he's looking at Dawn. His voice softens. "She really is cute, though."