"Why on earth would you torture yourself with six thirty and jogging at the same time?" He can't fathom it, but then he's hardly the get up and go type in the mornings, like, ever.

He spins in the chair, watching as she heads toward the door. He shrugs and scrambles to his feet to follow. "Yeah, Mom's pretty cool like that." He grins. There's this sort of ever-present fondness in all of the Hargreeves whenever they talk about their mother that just shines like a light from the inside that brightens them a few shades on the outside.