Herc walked the halls of the Sydney Shatterdome briskly, anxious to get home. Well, he supposed home wasn't the proper word. He was anxious to get to his bunker. To Chuck, mainly. The 15 year old was more aloof than ever and Herc's frequent cause of worry. Someone called out a greeting and he mindlessly waved, still pondering.

He had chosen to be a Pilot over being a father and sometimes he wondered if that had been a wise choice. Especially when no matter how hard he tried, Chuck wanted to stay away. It saddened him that even little Mako Mori offered her foster father more affection than his own biological son did to him. He wasn't ready to give up on his boy. But he couldn't stop being a Pilot. There were already too few of them and the world was in danger. He would fight for the world because he wanted a world for Chuck. A world where he could live in safely, settle down, find a wife, maybe even give him a few grandkids, have a future.

And in his musings, Herc's booted feet took him outside rather than to his bunker.

The warm, coastal air of Sydney greeted him and he sighed as he watched a chopper land, the last of the day's supplies arriving. Briefly, he thought about taking a walk but decided against it. He was tired enough, and he didn't need to go anywhere. The chopper's pilot nodded to him as he made his way inside past Herc and finally all was silent. It was just him and the Shatterdome and the vast ocean and the Kaijus out there hiding in it.

Except it wasn't all silent. There was a whining noise somewhere, almost like a squeaking noise.

Frowning in confusion, Herc decided to go seek out what in heaven's name was making that sound. When he found the origin of said sound he scoffed. How on earth had someone left a box containing a bulldog puppy on the bloody Shatterdome? It was bloody impossible.

Nonetheless here was this cutely pathetic bundle of brown and white fur staring up at him with helpless brown eyes. And he'd be damned if he was going to leave the poor pup there. Chuckling, Herc bent down to pick up the poor mutt, holding the miniature beastie up to his face.

"How'd you end up here, matey?"

The little thing only wriggled in his safe grasp, licking Herc's nose with its small, pink tongue and making cute, little, happy yelps.

Herc couldn't help but smile at the pup and tucked him in the crook of his arm under his jacket as he went back inside.

Chuck was pretending to be asleep in his and his father's shared bunker. It was late and his father was late, he should have already arrived and Chuck was angry because he cared that he was late. Usually they would have already gotten dinner and be settling down for bed. Chuck didn't mind living in Shatterdomes and he didn't mind living with his father but... He wished things were different, he wished his dad cared, and if he did, that he showed he cared.

So when he heard the heavy metal door open and close he pretended he was too deeply asleep to notice the awful, rusty, hinging groan. And when his father called his name softly, he ignored him. But when he felt his cot dip with the weight of a grown man plus more than a few pounds of muscle, he was genuinely surprised and frowned up at his father.

"Hello to you too, son." Herc smirked at Chuck and the boy scowled.

"It's late."

"Yeah, well, I found something that entertained me a couple of minutes." Herc vaguely gestured to something he held to his chest.

"What are you carrying?" Chuck asked around his scowl.

Herc pulled off his jacket and unveiled the now sleeping puppy to Chuck.

"Where did you get that?" Chuck was sitting up now, clearly interested and almost smiling.

"Actually, I found this little bugger in a box, near the chopper's landing site."

"Can I hold him? Is it a he? Can we keep him?"

Herc smiled an assent and gently transfered his hold to Chuck. The puppy woke and licked Chuck's hand and then face.

"Yes, it's a he, and I'm sure the Shatterdome Marshal won't mind. And if he does I wouldn't care. What do you want to call him?" Herc scratched the puppy's back as Chuck held him dearly.

"Max! Can we call him Max? I've always wanted a dog named Max!"

Herc chuckled at his son's enthusiasm and at the very subtle but very noticeable we.

"Of course we can call him Max. We can call him anything you like."

"Hey Maxie! How are you? You like the name?" Max wagged his little tail in response, yawning.

"Off to bed with you, Max, we've got a big day tomorrow, you and me." Chuck settled himself on the bed, curling an arm around Max, and Herc stood, deciding he would take a shower before going to bed. As he made his way out again, Chuck called out to him.

"Dad..?"

"Yes, son?"

"Thank you."

Herc smiled. "Have a good night, son." I love you.