A fond memory- every moment with the children being bright, behaving like kids instead of the little soldiers Reginald expected of them is deeply precious to Grace. She can't forget, there's no fog or loss or corruption, every detail captured for her to recall when things became difficult. Like now, with Reginald back, with the kids reeling. Thinking on it and hearing it is jarring for the millisecond it takes Grace to force herself to relax into the embrace, clean hand slipping down to rest against Charlie's.
Always a bright surprise. Always so cheerful, her sunshine girl.
"I'm fine." She isn't. She could be, should be, but she isn't. It'd be so easy to resent the kids for becoming more to her, for helping her learn who and what she could be without Reginald and his expectations-
And maybe she can't because it's impossible to resent them- but that isn't so. She harbors secret, frustrated, negative emotions tangled up around Reginald easily enough. But with him back, with the threat of reprogramming overhead- everything is in question. "But thank you, dear."
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Always a bright surprise. Always so cheerful, her sunshine girl.
"I'm fine." She isn't. She could be, should be, but she isn't. It'd be so easy to resent the kids for becoming more to her, for helping her learn who and what she could be without Reginald and his expectations-
And maybe she can't because it's impossible to resent them- but that isn't so. She harbors secret, frustrated, negative emotions tangled up around Reginald easily enough. But with him back, with the threat of reprogramming overhead- everything is in question. "But thank you, dear."