"You feel it. That's all you can do, to start, and I hate saying it but that much is just life. We all want what we can't have, or can't get ahold of." There cannot be, of course, any lying. Comfort, reassurance, strained truth if it comes to it, but never an outright lie. He hasn't come this far to be fed false niceties. But she'll join him against the wall, with a sigh.

"You cry, you tantrum when you need. Loud or quiet. You don't apologize for that. You talk to me, when you can. Putting it away from yourself is better than not. And you...wait. They take time. Like a cut. Keep branching out, when you can, at your own pace. Let me stroke your hair once in awhile, and remind you you're doing just fine."