Les glanced towards the living room, then away, then towards the living room again. He...Abby was right, he needed to...just to be a father to his son...to his...his little girl...now, but...oh God, where could he even start?
"You okay, honey?" his wife asked. He sighed, trembling, feeling like he was on the verge of breaking down. "Ye...no," he said. She nodded. "I know this is hard for you, Les."
He nodded. "It's...it's just one of those guy things, I guess...I want to fix this, I want to make the problem go away, and when I can't, it feels like...like..." Like I've failed. Like I'm not doing my job. He knew she would say that was wrong, and he was sure she would be right, but there was a part of him that wouldn't accept that. What was his duty if not to protect and aid his family? But...
"I know," she said. "It's written all over your face, you know. And of course neither of us are happy about this. But...sometimes you can't just fix everything. Sometimes you just have to do the best you can do, and accept what you can't, at least for the moment. And I think the best thing you can do for Lilly at the moment is just to be there for her, honey."
He nodded. "I know. You're right. It's just...hard. It's a bitter pill to swallow."
She embraced him. "Of course it is. I'm proud of you for doing it anyway; some guys wouldn't even consider it, just keep banging away at the same tactic. You don't let your ego get in the way of your family, and that's something to be proud of."
Les thought to himself that sometimes he did. After all, he'd spent all that time on the same attempted solutions even when they weren't working, and he'd kept thinking of Lilly as...well, as a kind of state he had to rescue his son from...in that time. But Abby's words and her embrace made him feel better anyway. Taking a deep breath, he turned and went into the living room.
Lilly was sitting on the couch, staring off into space. She didn't look traumatized or anything, but she did look confused and a little scared as well. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her. She startled a little bit at the touch; he wondered, how much time had he really spent with her since her change, that she wasn't even used to his touch in her new body? Plenty of time working trying to help her, of course, but...not as much as he ought to have actually with her.
The little squirrel-girl looked up at him. "D-did Mom tell you?" she asked. He nodded. "She did. Are you gonna be okay, Lilly?"
She stared down at the floor. "I guess so..." She looked back up at him. "A-are you...'re you upset that...that I don't 'member?"
Les felt himself start to cry. Now was not the time, but he couldn't help it. He picked her up and put her on his lap, holding her close, feeling her small body through her soft fur, smelling the strange animal kind of smell she had, telling himself that this was his son...this was what she was now. Abby said so, and Abby would know. If he didn't fully see it now, it was because he hadn't made himself see it. He'd have to do that...but for now, he'd have to just trust her. He shook his head. "I'm...I'm upset that we haven't found a way to help you," he said. "I'm sad about your forgetting because it makes you sad. But Lilly, I'm not disappointed in you for forgetting." He kissed her on the forehead. "You're still my child. You're still precious to me, and to your mother, and nothing will ever change that. Nothing."
She hugged him tight. He hugged her back. "I love you, Lilly," he said.
Lilly looked up at him and smiled. She was still worried about what was happening to her, she was still confused trying to figure out how she felt about it, but...she was glad to hear this, in the middle of everything. "I love you too, daddy."
Jon and Tim continued on in silence for a minute or so. "That...was...kind of odd," the slug-girl said at last.
Tim nodded. "You mean, about...?" She nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I, uh, I guess I'm maybe a little more acclimated to that, 'cause of my mom and dad, but...I guess I just kind of avoid thinking about adults in that context, generally..."
"Let alone my teachers," Jon said, antennae bobbing as she nodded agreement. "Still, uh...at least they're happy with it." There was another short pause. "What about you, Tim?" she asked. "Last weekend you'd said it bothered you to be associated with fantasy stereotypes, but you sounded a little less down on it just now..."
The drow-boy thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know, really," he said. "I mean, it does bug me to get that when the fact is my own interests run in a different direction, but it's really just a minor annoyance. As for the body...I've got no problems with it, really. I mean, I even pretty much look like my old self, except for the ears and the color scheme. That's a lot more than a lot of transformees can say. I wouldn't say I'm happy about it, but it hasn't really impacted my preexisting happiness any. So it's all right, I guess."
"Hmm," she said, smiling slightly. That was good to hear. Jon was still surprised by how many people seemed to be more or less okay with what had happened to them: some embracing their changes, like Sarah, some more generally appreciative, like Karyn, and even some who just weren't that bothered one way or the other. That didn't in any way change the enormity of what she'd done, but it was comforting to know that there were people who really weren't bothered by this. "So," she said, "dinner first, then the movie?"
Tim nodded. "That was my thought, I think the 5:00 showing's already started. And there's a nice little family Chinese place not too far from the theater, so we don't have to rush to get over there in time."
"Sounds good," Jon smiled. Wait, she thought, since when are we doing a movie? She'd thought it was just going out to grab a bite to eat, but...ah, what the heck.
