Charlie seemed...down today.

He was usually so talkative. Casey or himself would have to remind him to eat numerous times during dinner. But not this evening. He'd sat with his face leaning in his palm, staring at his soup miserably. Both he and his wife tried to get him to tell them what was wrong, but he wouldn't say.

He'd been like that ever since he came home from school. Gordon had a hunch that he was being picked on by some other kid. It had to be. What else could it be at that age? It was a little concerning; Charlie was only six. Gordon had been teased plenty before, but that wasn't until middle school.

"Charlie, it's time for bed," Gordon poked his head into his son's bedroom.

"Okay," Charlie mumbled, half heartedly playing with his teddy bear and toy cars.

Gordon observed him carefully, shutting the door as he came to sit on the bed. "What's the matter, Charlie?"

"Nothing," Charlie shook his head.

"I don't believe that," Gordon gently took him by the chin. "Tell me what's wrong, Buddy."

"I can't," Charlie whispered.

"Why can't you?" Gordon had made it clear to him that he could tell him anything, so long as he was comfortable with it.

"I don't want you to be sad."

"Come here," Gordon pulled the little boy into his lap, wrapping his arms around him. "You don't have to worry about making me sad, okay? I just want to know why you're sad."

Charlie sniffled, twisting slightly to rest his cheek on Gordon.

"You're not my daddy, Gordy."

Gordy? Charlie had started him daddy a while ago. It was all on his own. Neither he or Casey ever brought it up so he wouldn't feel pressured. Being so young, they didn't know how he'd take to them dating and getting married.

Approximately four months after the wedding, Charlie called him daddy.

And he hadn't minded in the least.

"No," Gordon said carefully, "but you knew that already, didn't you?"

"Uh huh," Charlie whispered.

"Is that why you're sad?" Gordon frowned.

Charlie shrugged.

Gordon rubbed his back. "Whenever you're ready to tell me, you can."

In the meantime, Gordon spotted a few of Charlie's stuffed animals on the floor and got an idea.

"Oh, no."

"What?" Charlie removed his face from Gordon's chest.

"Buttons looks very sad," Gordon explained solemnly. That was Charlie's stuffed rabbit. Gordon had bought it for him on one of his business trips.

Charlie gasped. "Why?"

"I don't know," Gordon rubbed his chin. "I think we should cheer him up. What do you say?"

"Okay, but how?" Charlie looked at him with curious green eyes.

"You tell me," Gordon said, "what does Buttons like?"

Charlie's face scrunched up in concentration. He then burst out his answer. "Hugs! Big, big, big hugs!"

"Oh, really? Like this?" Gordon demonstrated on him. It got a laugh out of Charlie, who snuggled in his arms. "Is that big enough?"

"Uh huh!"

Gordon hummed. "You know, I don't think Buttons wants you to be sad either."

"I'm not sad," Charlie disagreed.

"You're not smiling either," Gordon pointed out. "And I happen to like smiley Charlie."

"You do?" Charlie's voice was small.

"Mhm. I look forward to seeing that smile everyday after work," Gordon said. "How come I couldn't see it today?"

That seemed to do the trick. Charlie gave a sigh, a heavy one for a first grader. "I'm sorry, Gordy."

"You don't have to be sorry," Gordon assured him. "I just want to know what's wrong. Is someone picking on you?"

Charlie fidgeted. "No, but-" Gordon waited patiently for his explanation. "I can't call you daddy."

"You can't?" Gordon asked. "Why not? Do you not want to? You don't have to, Charlie. I won't be mad."

"No, no," Charlie said, his voice bordering on a whine. "I wanna. I can't, Gordy."

"Why can't you?"

"You're not my daddy," he repeated. "I can't."

"You can't because I'm not your dad?" Gordon clarified. Charlie nodded.

"Uh huh. Billy said."

"He did, did he?" Gordon said.

"He...he said you're not my real daddy so I can't call you daddy or my real daddy's gonna hate me."

Gordon itched to go find the little twerp and give him a piece of his mind.

"He's wrong," he said firmly. "He's very wrong."

"But-" Charlie protested.

"He's wrong, Charlie. I'm not going to force you to call me anything-it's your decision. If you want to call me Gordy or Daddy, either is fine."

"But what about my real daddy?" Charlie asked. "He's gonna hate me."

Gordon sucked in a breath. How was he supposed to answer this? As far as he knew, Charlie's biological father hadn't been in the picture for quite some time. Casey never told Charlie any of the details, likely because he was too young for now. That didn't stop him from asking questions. They came out of the blue, to which Casey used her son's short attention span to her advantage. She would distract him until he would effectively forget about what he'd asked.

"You know," he started off, "I don't know much about your real daddy, but I think you should do what makes you happy. Your daddy would want you to be happy."

"How do you know?" Charlie frowned.

"Mom's and dad's want their kids to be happy," Gordon said, keeping his arms around the boy. "Your mom wants you to be happy. I know she does."

Charlie chewed on his lip, thinking it over. He was still not convinced. Sighing, he buried his face in his shirt, "I wish I knew my real daddy, Gordy."

"Oh, Charlie," Gordon murmured. "I know. I know you do. I wish you did too. You know, I miss my daddy all the time."

"You do?" Charlie peeked up at him.

Gordon nodded. "He died when I was a bit older than you."

Charlie let out a soft oh. He put his arms around Gordon's neck. "I'm sorry, Gordy."

"Thank you, Charlie, but you don't need to be sorry," Gordon hugged him back. "I'm okay now."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Gordon brushed at the boy's mop of hair.

"Gordy?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm gonna think about it," Charlie said seriously.

"About calling me Daddy?"

"Uh huh," Charlie nodded.

"That's fine by me," Gordon said warmly. "Whatever you choose is fine by me."