“He wipes tears off my face and then snot. He uses his hands. He loves me that much.”
―Nina LaCour
. . .
“…no coo-coo.” Warren insisted, even as he feels his resolve crumbling a little more the longer he stares at that adorable little face, “No, Winters. No more cookies. You already ate way too much of ‘em. Please don’t make it sound like I starved you or something…”
He then lifted the girl up from the chair and gently set her down on the floor before turning away to return the uneaten apple slices to the fridge–
A word of advice to new parents:
Never, and I mean never let your baby out of your sight.
That was his mistake.
Warren had been quite preoccupied with the thoughts of cleaning up real quick and getting back to his work (that he had left unattended upstairs) because he was so sure not even ten seconds has passed when the sudden sounds of shattering glass, followed by a frightened scream of a toddler erupted right behind him.
Whirling around that he very nearly toppled over on his own two feet, with his heart so close to leaping right out of his mouth, Warren… stared.
For some odd reason, he felt like he was bearing witness to a crime scene.
Because all over the floor lay the shattered remains of the cookie jar (fuck, fuck, fuck SUMMER’S GOING TO KILL ME!), as well as the many crumbled chocolate chip cookies.
His eyes locked on to Winters who was practically at the center of it all, her shoulders seized up and hands clutched to her head, palms pressed firmly to cover her ears as she kneels in a half-curled position. He can only watch in mute horror as red dripped down her cheek.
Her lips trembled.
She wails.
Warren practically leaped over the table, his socked feet stepping directly through the broken glass as he snatched Winters up swiftly before she can hurt herself even more, pulling his daughter to his chest and stumbling away from the mess she made as he rushed to check on her.
Winters must have been startled by the abruptness of it all because her crying began to grow louder, her little body practically trembling as she sobbed and howled.
Warren’s socked feet trailed blood all the way to the sink. The glass cuts sure does sting as he moved, but the thin cut on his baby girl’s forehead down to her nose must have hurt a hell lot more because it just. Wont. Stop. Bleeding.
His attention was solely focused on gently easing Winters down on the sink and looking her over to make sure that he hadn’t missed some other wound. 
Nothing. Just that little scratch–
Wait.
Little…?!
And sure enough, right in front of Warren’s very eyes, despite Winters crying like she was being tortured or something, what was once a glass cut that has gotten almost half of her little face was now slowly but surely becoming smaller and smaller until it appeared no bigger than a faint paper cut.
Until even that too, becomes nothing.
Nothing.
…There was nothing.
Winters was fine now, good as new.
The sudden pain and loud noise must have startled more than really hurt her and the absurdity of it all washed and crashed over Warren like a tidal wave as he stared at the still-crying toddler in front of him for a moment, his panic and worry easily giving way to anger.
“Winters, I already told you…! I told you no more cookies! Why would you do that?!” Warren snapped as he angrily shook her a bit, gripping her tightly, “That was really stupid of you!”
“S…sorry, daddy,” Winters hiccupped.
Warren was practically livid.
He was so, so furious he could barely even see straight. Probably beyond furious even! What if the glass had gotten straight to her eye? What if she doesn’t... couldn’t heal quickly? What then?
What then?!
Without another word, Warren hauled Winters close, arms wrapping tight around his daughter. He held Winters there firmly, tucking his girl into her favorite spot, right where she was safe. Right where she can listen to his thundering heart calm its beat.
Winters continued sobbing and sniffling for some time against him, but her tiny arms soon made its way around his neck, warm tears dripping down on his skin as Warren let out a tired exhale.
“Winters, listen to me,” Warren began, his tone softening as he pulled a little bit away to look at her seriously in the eye, “Winters. You have to listen. When daddy tells you no, it’s a no. Okay? It’s for your own good because if I can, I would have given you all the things you like, but I can’t because you could have gotten hurt. Like… like right now.”
Winters nodded, blinking back tears.
Warren sighed and allowed the tension in his head and heart to fade away just as what was once a large glass cut on Winters’ face rapidly blinks out of existence. He planted a gentle kiss on where the wound once was.
“Doesn’t hurt anymore?” he asked, just to be sure.
Winters shook her head, “Nuh-uh,”
“Good. Now… do you want some ice cream?”
Winters visibly perks up at that.
Warren laughed.
…being a demigod may have had its perks.
(But, of course, Summer wasn’t really impressed when she found the jar of cookies missing. So… Warren finally decided to fess up that night with Winters looking equal parts guilty and scared beside him.
…they both slept on the couch that night.)