There was laughter in Ethan's chest. She was very curious about his appendage, and even liked his luck to winning the lottery. "It wasn't luck. It was a fucking explosive! That's not good luck that's terrible luck!" He laughed at the thought of an enemy grenade launcher as good luck for him. There was no way to twist that. But he supposed that if there was any way to see some good in it, Charlotte would find it. "But i'll let you keep thinking that it was luck. Really I guess you're right. I mean if I had lost them in an accident i'd get the same shit that everyone else on this block gets." That part was, indeed, lucky, for his arms you couldn't get anywhere else. he watched her with his eyes as she wandered the space, making her way to the desk. Immediately he realized what was still sitting on the desk, and he a wave of fear suddenly plunged deeply and violently in his stomach.<br/><br/>He felt the pit grow quickly, and when she lifted the delicate picture frame to inspect it, his heart sunk. "That's.... that's my son, Grayson." He certainly didn't want to talk about it. It was the reason that he started drinking in the first place, and immediately he wanted to wash away the pain he was reliving all over again, to drown his sorrows in whiskey and never wake up. Why couldn't he have just died any day between that one and this? A car accident? Alcohol poisoning? Drive-by shooting? Anything... the worst the ghetto had to offer. Why was he left behind when the only people he had ever loved were gone? It didn't make any sense.<br/><br/>He stood, slowly, wanting to head to the kitchen, but he clenched his fists and forced himself to steer away from the kitchen and over to Charlotte. He looked lovingly upon the picture from over her shoulder, speaking softly, fondly of it. "That was taken on his fourth birthday. Little shit was big for his age. Takes after me like that. He's with his mom now." He tried his best to make it sound like it was just a rotten divorce and that she had taken custody of the young boy. Ethan was quite the actor when he wanted to be, though he wasn't sure if he could disguise the tears that welled in his eyes or the slight quiver of his voice. It was dangerous territory, and though he lived within it every single day, the hell and torment of wondering why he lived, he could still not bear to talk about it for very long.<br/><br/>"He's a funny thing though. He was born while I was deployed. Tough little shit too. Even at this age he'd put up his dukes and square up like a tough guy. He was never a match for his dad though."