[b][i]6:27 AM, Burnely, Gotham[/i][/b]

"The boxing managers are stampeding over eachother to get a piece of Hayes. Betting Barenziah is gonna be having a coniption fit that'll last all week." Clayton said, smiling over his paper as he watched his son take his seat. The boy had taken after his mother, but he could see little bits of himself in Tommy. "Fae and the Vampires are going at it again too. And the parental section is wondering when you're finally going to ask Anna out already." He flashed a smirk at Tommy at that, noticing how his son had reacted to checking his phone's messages. "She's a nice girl, Tommy. I've seen the eyes she makes at you."

The smile faded a moment later as he looked at his son closer. He almost felt it more than he saw it, the lingering touch of something haunting on his boy's mind. It wasn't the first time he'd seen it either. He set his paper down, his breakfask forgotten. 

"You had the dreams again?" It was a question, but his tone said made it sound like a statement, thick arms folded before the man as he faced Tommy. "Your mother said that sorta thing might come sooner or later. Christ knows I had some weird dreams when I found out I was a necromancer. Wish were here to tell you more."

The big man rose then, moving to the empty seat beside his son, a baseball-mitt sized paw resting on the teenager's shoulder. "You need to talk about it?"