At eight-forty he had to leave. Locking his papers away when he knew there was so much to be done made him uncomfortable, but he had to do it, he didn't want to make Finn watch Brock for too long. At least Brock seemed to like the guy, maybe he wouldn't hate him too much for already going back to work and, well, he didn't want to work as much now that he was the only parental figure for Brock, but he didn't know what else to do, he was very busy and he was scared that he wouldn't be able to both of the things at once and then where would that leave him? He pulled up to the apartment and parked before getting up to knock on the door he remembered belonged to Finn.<br/><br/>The picture of Brock feeling safe and comfortable enough to actually doze off was heartwarming, something he desperately wanted and needed. He was fumbling with things in his hands, unsure of how to pay since he rarely carried cash, but he would have to get it tomorrow at the very latest. If he saw him tomorrow. Shit. He wasn't going to give money to Brock to give to Finn, he didn't need Brock handling with this at all, he just needed... he didn't know what he needed! Help? Support? Someone that would help him? A billion dollars so he didn't have to work anymore? All of those things sounded great, but they weren't attainable, not for him in the position he was at.<br/><br/>Brock looked so comfortable in the photo he didn't want to wake him. He was a horrible father, he was going to end up neglected or homeless, there was one or the other, there was no winning in this situation, at all.