Thoughts buzzed around inside Cobalt’s empty head like a swarm of flies, and no matter what he set his mind to, he just couldn’t seem to silence them. He couldn’t concentrate on reading, watching T.V., or even talking with Lydia, and sleep was getting scarcer and scarcer by the day. He feared at this place – this town – was beginning to overwhelm him, but his loyal companion had confirmed to him multiple times in the past few days that something was going to be done about it, and soon. He just had to wait that little bit longer.
He sat up in his room, staring at the cane laid across his lap. That girl – Olive, she said her name was – had clearly put a lot of thought into it, and while it was a strange and jarring thing to receive, the Incubus had to admit that just holding it was enough to set his mind at ease. But a cane was not meant for holding, and his wheelchair grew more restrictive by the day.
Checking to ensure his knee brace was affixed properly, Cobalt planted the cane into the floor and arduously heaved himself to his feet, leaning all of his weight against it. He expected his bad leg to complain, but with his new iron compatriot by his side, he was relieved to find himself standing upright, relatively unsupported. Excitement ran through him as he ventured a step. Then another. And another.
Before long, Cobalt was doing slow, stumbling laps around his bedroom, aided by the Iron Hound Faithful’s most unusual gift.
The doctor will be thrilled to hear of this! Once he got the hang of walking again, he would finally be able to-!
His ears pricked up as he heard the front door open. Something wasn’t right; Lydia had already gone for a grocery run yesterday, and the doctor wasn’t due to visit until next week. She never answered the door, and the police outside ensured that no strangers came knocking. Hobbling over to his bedroom door, he pressed his ear against the wood.
Footsteps and voices. A lot of them, all of which he didn’t recognise. Lydia was in there amongst them, welcoming them into the house.
What the Hell was she doing…?
Unable to make out any words, Cobalt just stood there and listened as Lydia escorted her mysterious entourage deeper into the house, towards the living room. But upon hearing her heavy footsteps upon the stairs, he panicked and practically threw himself onto the bed, hoping to adopt as natural a pose as possible before she arrived.
A few moments later, the maid knocked on the door.
“Y- Yes?” he called.
“Are you dressed, young master?” the Oni asked politely.
“I, uh… Just my pyjamas.”
“They will do.”
Lydia opened the door and bowed her head respectively. She had ironed her apron and cleaned her dress; there wasn’t a speck of dirt to be seen on her.
“You have visitors, Master Cobalt.”
“Visitors?”
“They’re waiting downstairs to meet you.”
Cobalt stared at her for a moment, not sure if he heard her right. He had been dazed and confused when he first woke up, and while he still was very much not sure of his place in the world, he at least knew that his existence was supposed to be something of a secret.
“Do I… Should I go down there?” he asked, glancing past her.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Swallowing hard, he nodded, grabbed his cane and got to his feet, much to Lydia’s surprise. Her face didn’t change much, but he could tell by the slight widening of her eyes.
“You’re standing,” she said simply, getting out of the way for him.
“I am. Even better; watch this.”
Slowly, he made his way through the door and down the hallway.
“There’s no need to force yourself, young master; your wheelchair is still-”
Cobalt waved her protests away as he approached the stairs.
“I’m fine, Lydia, please. It doesn’t hurt,” he told her, grabbing the banister.
She nodded her head, but even still followed him close behind as he descended, occasionally flinching to catch him whenever he looked like he was about to slip. Thankfully, Cobalt made it to the bottom of the stairs in one piece, though the short-lived victorious feeling he felt paled in comparison to his jittering nerves. He hadn’t really spoken to anyone else, bar Lydia and the doctors, and perhaps that Olive girl.
“Just in here, young master,” the Oni told him, directing him towards the living room.
“A- Alright. Here I go…”
He stepped towards the living room door, as the voices beyond it grew louder and louder.
“This will be good for him, alright? Staying here… He’ll find out, sooner or later. And then…”
“But we can’t just cart him off to-!”
“We have to. It’s for his own good.”
“Be reasonable! We only just got him back!”
“I know, sweetie. I know…”
Gritting his teeth, he pushed the door open, causing all of the clamouring voices to abruptly go silent.
All-in-all, six Succubi sat upon the various couches and recliners in the living room, all wearing wildly different clothes and all looking very concerned. As soon as the Incubus revealed himself, they all flinched, with some even gasping as they held their hands to their faces, overwhelmed with… joy, it looked like? Cobalt couldn’t really tell. He looked from one to the other as silence reigned, completely confused, before settling his gaze on the woman sat in the beaten leather recliner just ahead of him. Their eyes met, and she rose to her feet.
There was something about her. She was older than the others, with her greying hair and subtle crows’ feet. There was a beauty mark just beneath her left eye, and as she approached, Cobalt found his mind struggling to spark something, like a match refusing to ignite.
“Snookums…” she breathed in a soft voice, as though she was unable to believe her eyes.
That name… It was familiar somehow.
The matronly Succubus tentatively drew closer, scared that he would bolt like a frightened deer. Opening her arms, she blinked a tear from her eyes.
“Do you remember me…?”
He was about to shake his head, but as she closed in for a hug, he was suddenly struck by the woman’s scent. A smell that had pervaded his life, his childhood; clinging to every hug and every kiss upon his forehead. A scent that lingered in his house even when she left for her long trips overseas. A scent of love and longing.
The scent of his mother, Jezebel Trayer.
She squeezed him tight, nearly pulling him off his feet. Slowly, unsurely, Cobalt returned the gesture.
“… Mom…” he breathed, the word sitting unfamiliarly upon his tongue.
Almost immediately, she broke down in tears, nearly dragging the Incubus to the floor as she bawled into his nightshirt. He tried to steady her while subtly shaking her off, but his mother just clung to him tight, unwilling to let go.
“I thought I lost you! I thought I lost my baby boy! Oh sweet hellfire, I missed you…! I missed you so much…!
She cried and she cried and she cried, forcing Cobalt to just stand there and pat her back as her tears soaked through to his skin. He glanced back at Lydia in the doorway, but the Oni’s eyes offered him nothing.
Why was she so upset? He knew his memory was incomplete, but from what Cobalt knew of his mother… She wasn’t around that much anyway. Right?
He had to be missing something. And that fact only served to unsettle him as Jezebel eventually pulled away.
“I… I’m sorry, snookums. This must be a lot for you right now,” Jezebel Trayer breathed, accepting a handkerchief from Lydia.
The Incubus looked her up and down, not sure what to say.
Once she had sufficiently dried her eyes, the Succubus placed a hand upon his back and gestured to the other Succubi in the room.
“A- And your sisters? Do you remember them?”
Sisters…?
The first one was tall, dressed in worn denim from top to bottom. A red bandana hung around her neck, and one glance at her physique was enough to tell Cobalt that she was more than capable of holding her own.
The second sat there in a daze, looking completely confused. Her clothes were rumpled and comfortable, and her hair was frizzy and unkempt. Freckles spattered her face, and an orange ribbon had been tied around her shirt collar.
The third looked a lot more proper than the rest; dressed in a smart shirt and slacks, with a variety of pens sticking out of her breast pocket. A pair of neat spectacles sat upon her face, and a green bow kept her hair tied back out of her eyes.
The fourth was barely holding it together. Tears streamed down her face as she shook uncontrollably, nearly soaking her blue apron. It was decorated with cartoon ducks for some reason.
The final Succubus just sat with her arms folded, glaring at Cobalt with uncertain eyes. She was dressed in a leather jacket, and her hair had been cut short on one side, and dyed a deep purple on the other.
None of them looked familiar.
“I… think…?” Cobalt murmured, glancing from one to the other.
Their reactions were varied; a lot of confusion mixed with relief. But it was the last of his “sisters” who garnered Cobalt’s attention when she rose from her seat, fists clenched and shaking.
“Don’t you fucking lie to us, you little shit. You never were any good at it,” she spat hatefully, staring him down.
Fear flashed through Cobalt as everyone gasped around her.
“I- I’m not-!”
“I told you not to fucking lie!”
Surging forward, she wound her hand back and abruptly slapped Cobalt across the face, completely bowling him to the floor. His cane went flying as the entire room burst into an uproar, with each Succubus screaming at his attacker.
Lydia immediately attempted to ease him back to his feet, but the Incubus just found himself staring at the woman who slapped him, his face stinging painfully. Almost familiarly.
She was crying. Despite the rage in her eyes, tears were streaming down her face.
This was not the first time it had happened.
He remembered all the yelling and insults, the legs stuck out to trip him and the slaps aimed to the back of his head. The smell of cigarette smoke and whiskey smuggled in her leathers, and the loud music she played to drown out her mother’s calls.
He remembered a time, a long time ago, when he had gotten on Tabitha Haywood’s bad side, back in Phrodival. They were just children, and she tried to kiss him, but headbutted him so hard she knocked a front tooth out. He remembered someone – no, his sister – heard about what had happened. And he remembered that the next day, the Haywood’s pottery store had rocks thrown through all of their windows.
Cobalt remembered her.
“Five years. Five fucking years. I thought I got use to your bullshit, but this really fucking cinches it, Cobalt! Do you have any idea what you’ve-?!”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“That’s enough!” Jezebel suddenly called.
“But Mom-!”
“Please! Not now, not today! I- I just…! Please…!”
Cobalt stared as the belligerent Succubus shot him with a furious gaze.
“Violet…” he breathed.
“The Hell did you just say?” she snapped, wiping her eyes.
Accepting his cane from Lydia, Cobalt arduously pulled himself back to his feet.
“Violet. That’s your name, right?”
He looked back to the denim-clad Succubus.
Adventurous. Loud. Always up for anything. Memories of sparring in the basement, lessons of self-defence followed by cups of tea and tousled hair.
“Scarlet.”
She laughed; a single, short little bark before she hid her face behind her hand, tears streaming beneath it. Blinking slow, Cobalt focused his gaze on the freckled woman sitting next to her on the couch.
Forgetful. Cheery. Easy to talk to. Memories of sitting on the balcony, confiding his darkest worries to a girl who understood and reassured him of his worth.
“Amber.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks, but unlike her sister, she did little to hide it. The bespectacled Succubus sat up in her chair as Cobalt looked over at her.
Intelligent. Thoughtful. Resourceful beyond all measure. Memories of sitting at the table, getting help with schoolwork that went way over his head.
“Viridi.”
A smile played across her lips, and though she did not cry, the Incubus could see something glimmering in her eyes. She got up to go comfort Scarlet and Amber, allowing him to turn to the final Succubus, who was practically shivering from the apprehension.
Protective. Comforting. Spoiling him at every chance. Memories of lying in bed, everything he needed at his fingertips despite only being burdened with a cold.
“Azul.”
She burst out crying, completely overwhelmed by emotion and forcing her three other sisters to rush over to her aid.
It all came back to him, filling in a few more gaps in his memory. Cobalt wasn’t alone when his mother dragged him away to Brimstone; they all came too. Jezebel Trayer’s famed quintuplets. His sisters.
Finally, Cobalt turned his eyes back on Violet, who hadn’t stopped glaring at him.
“Vio-”
“You were the straw that broke everyone’s backs, Cobalt,” she said unapologetically.
Everyone turned to stare at her, each with red and moistened eyes.
“I wish I could remember what you’re talking about, but I promise you, I don’t know. But whatever it is, I’m sorry,” he told her, standing up a little straighter.
But that didn’t seem to quell Violet’s rage. She always was a hothead, and it seems that chip on her shoulder hadn’t gotten any smaller.
“No, ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it! Sorry doesn’t give us all that time back! Do you have any idea what happened these last few years?! Any idea?! You broke Mom, Cobalt! I don't know how many nights I had to spend keeping her away from the wine, listening to her cry and cry! Do you know how hard that was to explain to my kids?! Why their grandma's drinking problem has gotten worse, and why they'll never be able to see their uncle?!”
Her words stabbed into him, each accusation a steely knife to the heart. But it was her final statement that caught his attention.
“… Kids…?” he breathed, looking his sister straight in the eye.
She approached him once again, and for a moment Cobalt feared reprisal. But shockingly, Violet just pulled him closer, hugging him so tightly he couldn’t breathe.
"They wanted to meet you so bad, you asshole. They grew up learning about you from everyone. They were so excited when they found out that the man who saved the whole damn world was their uncle, and were so heartbroken to learn that you were dead. Supposed to be dead. Fuck... They missed you, y’know? They never knew you, but..."
Cobalt wrapped his arms around Violet and held her for a moment. She was spiteful and resentful, but he could tell she cared about him in a weird, roundabout way. Maybe that was just how older sisters were meant to be.
“I really am sorry, Violet. Truly,” he breathed.
She shook her head.
“Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to them.”
Stepping back, she grabbed Cobalt’s shoulders and forcefully turned him around to face the doorway.
Lydia was standing there – as stalwart as ever – but further down, hiding behind her skirts, were a pair of young Succubi girls, their stubby horns poking through their fringe. Dressed in matching frocks and cardigans, they gazed up at Cobalt with wide, unsure eyes. Each was identical to the other, save for the colour of the clasps in their hair; one pink, the other blue.
“They’re your nieces. Rose and Lavender,” Violet said, gesturing to each as Jezebel placed a hand on her shoulder.
Nodding in affirmation, Cobalt carefully lowered himself onto one knee to meet their gazes. Rose was the first to step out from behind Lydia, with Lavender gaining confidence upon seeing her sister take the lead.
“Hi girls. I’m sorry I took so long to meet you,” he told them both with a gentle smile.
Rose cocked her head.
“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” she asked brazenly, staring right at his broken horns.
“I, uh… I think so. I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”
Lavendar cleared her throat and played with the zip on her cardigan.
“Uncle Cobalt, do you like Miss Murtinot?” she asked in a much quieter voice.
Confused, Cobalt looked back to their mother, who just sighed.
“Some new musician. Her stuff sucks; dunno why they like it,” Violet sighed, folding her arms.
At that, the two little girls gasped.
“Miss Murtinot does not suck!”
“Yeah! She’s the best ever!”
Cobalt smiled, feeling himself grow just that little more comfortable.
“I haven’t listened to much music since… well… maybe you can show me your favourite songs later?”
Their eyes lit up at his words. And just like that, the ice was thoroughly broken.
With reintroductions out of the way, Cobalt took a seat next to his mother as Lydia set the coffee table with tea, coffee and hot chocolate for Violet’s daughters. Biscuits were passed around as dozens of questions were thrown his way, and for a few moments, he felt eerily nostalgic.
He had been somewhere like this before. The café run by Cocoa Lattess, right in the middle of Phrodival. She often invited Cobalt and his sisters around for tea, and he used to sit and listen while they and Cocoa’s daughters used to argue and bicker.
Cherry was always there too.
As one hour bled into the next and the tea was drained by the kettleful, Cobalt was gradually filled in on what his family had been up to since his sudden departure. Supposedly, after the Hellbreak Incident, Jezebel was much too distraught to remain in the town and had to move back to Phrodival, leaving the house in Lydia’s care while she recovered. Before long, their hometown’s Matriarch – and Cobalt’s own grandmother, apparently – decided to formally step down, opening the position up to her eldest daughter.
It was a shock, to hear that Jezebel Trayer was the new Phrodival Matriarch. From what he could remember, it was a demanding position. But she explained that she had taken on Amber as an assistant, and between the two of them, the work was easily handled. Besides, it kept their minds off things.
Scarlet, on the other hand, had been taking full advantage of the disrupted state of the two dimensional planes and had started work on a compilation of interplanar travel guides for humans hoping to one day tour the surface of Hell. She was extremely animated when she was explaining this to Cobalt; jogging up and down in her seat as she threatened to spill coffee all over her sisters.
Viridi and Azul both decided to stick closer to home, having found accommodation elsewhere in Brimstone. Viridi was working with the Brimstone Memorial Hospital’s psychiatric unit and had settled down with a lovely Glutton girl named Adrienne, while Azul was working fulltime as a caretaker at a well-established nursery downtown. She was quick to tell Cobalt that it took every shred of willpower she had not to come blowing down the doors when she heard of his sudden appearance, with Viridi chiming in that such disruptions would have likely set his mental recovery back by weeks. He wasn’t sure if she was joking about that or not, and decided not to press.
Violet, on the other hand, seemed quite subdued. She often had to excuse herself from the conversation in order to deal with her children, who – between the pair of them – had an uncanny knack for knocking mugs over and getting biscuit crumbs everywhere. Eventually she had to bring them out to the back garden to play, leaving the adults alone to talk.
Once the kids were gone and Violet had returned sans her twins, the mood got decidedly more dour.
Jezebel was the first to speak, leaning forward as she clasped her hands together.
“Snookums, listen… I’m so happy that you’re back. We all are. But…”
She turned to stared out the window. Cobalt didn’t even need to look to know what had drawn her attention; the Tempered Bastion could be seen from anywhere.
In this light, she looked older than he remembered. On the days she was actually home, Jezebel Trayer was a jovial and vibrant woman, with an infectious laugh and a joyful glint in her eyes. But seeing the light play off her gaze, he noticed something broken behind her stare.
“It wouldn’t be good for you to stay here. Lydia told me as much, and so have the doctors. They think that staying here could trigger some… painful memories. Memories that could hurt you,” she said gently.
She was picking her words carefully, but he could hardly refute them. He had asked – no, begged – Lydia to take him somewhere else, and though he was emotional at the time, Cobalt still stood by them.
“I… I understand. I guess it would be nice to see Phrodival again. I kind of missed it.”
Jezebel’s eyes widened. She quickly glanced at her daughters before clearing her throat and shimmying closer to her son.
“About that, snookums. You’re… well… You won’t be going to Phrodival. I spoke with Viola and-”
“Viola?! What the Hell does she have to do with this?!” Cobalt suddenly snapped, enraged by the mere mention of that woman’s name.
Jezebel looked shocked.
“C- Cobalt, she’s been doing everything she can to make sure you’re recovering okay. She told me about what happened in her office, and…”
She took a deep breath.
“… she’s going to refer you to an employer in Furnace.”
“Furnace…?”
Across the room, Scarlet set her mug down.
“Industrial heart of Hell, kiddo. It’s up north; straddling the border between Aporue and Silatned. Sitting on a river almost as big as the sea, I think. Don’t go skinny dipping when you’re there; you’ll freeze your balls right off,” she explained.
“I won’t know anyone there, Mom.”
This time, Violet lifted a finger.
“I do,” she said, sweeping up some of Rose’s mess off the coffee table, “Guy named Lexford Castrel. He’s solid enough; used to help me move stuff.”
She caught her mother’s irate stare and coughed.
“Back when I used to do that,” Violet added quickly.
Cobalt didn’t know what to think. Once again, Jezebel was seeing fit to cart him off somewhere new without even thinking to check with him first, and for a moment he felt that old, long-buried resentment return. But Amber noticed the troubled look on his face and stepped over to him, patting his knee as she gave him a reassuring smile.
“Don’t be scared, Cobalt. I heard it was real nice. Food, place to sleep, lots of stuff to do… And the job’s supposed to be real easy. Not like what you were doing.”
“… Teaching?”
“I think so.”
Cobalt glanced over at Lydia, who was carefully refilling everyone’s mugs.
“Is Lydia coming?” he asked in a small voice.
Jezebel frowned thoughtfully.
“Lydia dear, how does that sound?” she asked the Oni.
She peered up at them with her piercing gaze.
“How does what sound, Mistress Jezebel?”
“Sending Cobalt to recover in Furnace. Would you like to accompany him, or would you prefer to stay and look after the house?”
“Whichever you desire, my lady, I shall carry out to my fullest extent.
"No, I'm letting you choose"
Lydia didn't reply. She simply stood there, face frozen. When Cobalt gazed into her eyes, he noticed something resembling panic glinting in them. After a few moments, Jezebel sighed and spoke in her stead.
"N- Never mind. Just go get his bags packed, dear. Thank you."
“At once.”
With a dutiful bow, she left the room to search for a suitcase. As he watched her leave, a sense of uncertainty settled in the Incubus’ stomach.
“How long do you think it will take? To recover?” he asked, feeling antsier by the second.
“The doctors aren’t sure. But I’m certain it won’t take too long. You’ll be in good hands; Viola assured me.”
“And this job?”
“Something to keep you busy. If not that, I’m sure there’s plenty you could get up to there.”
He swallowed hard.
“I supposed I could always pick up the violin again. I’ll need to buy a new one, though…”
“Um… the violin, snookums?”
“Yeah. I think I used to be good at it, too. Until, well… I broke it. Over Cherry Lattess’ head.”
He felt a nostalgic smile begin to tug at the corner of his mouth, but one look at Jezebel told him this was far from a laughing matter. She looked stunned; her lips drawn tight as the colour drained from her face.
“S- Snookums, are you sure you’re remembering that right? You lost your violin. You were so upset that you insisted on giving it up.”
“What? No, I remember it just fine. It was on the Kerdal’s roof, when we were graduating.”
Whatever he had said, it had an effect on his mother, try as she might to hide it. Though she forced an unsure smile, Jezebel's face remained pale, and beads of sweat appeared on her brow. His sisters were no better, as they gave each other concerned glances.
"R- Right... Y- You remember..."
Noticing her son's gaze, she smiled once again, but it did nothing to restore his ease.
"W- Well, going back to what we were talking about... Violet sweetie, what's this friend of yours like?" she asked, turning around in her seat.
Violet shrugged and drained the last of her coffee.
“Lexford? Solid enough. Good with words, languages; real smart cookie. Helped me out more than once, and knows how and when to keep his mouth shut,” she said, reaching for one of the last biscuits.
“What do you mean ‘keep his mouth shut?’” Azul asked in a concerned tone.
"Doesn't matter, Az. What does matter is he's reliable. His friends are pretty fucking weird though."
Cobalt cocked his head.
"Weird, how?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Violet shot him an annoyed glance, but answered regardless.
"Only met Senna once. She’s got a mouth on her, and nearly drove me to throw her out a window. As for the Oni... whole truckload of issues with that one."
Jezebel cleared her throat, drawing attention back to her.
"We're getting off track. What I want to ask is how we'll arrange all this," she asked, looking immeasurably tired.
Looking closer at his mother, Cobalt noticed the bags under her eyes, but before he could mention anything, Viridi pulled her phone out and began to speak.
"Matters have been simplified since the construction of the Rimebound Express, so it's only really a matter of booking tickets for two, unless...?" she explained, before looking up at Violet.
"The last time I used the fucking man's transportation ‘service’ they had me in security for three hours," she spat.
"Weren't you trying to smuggle cigarettes?"
"Fuck off and mind your own business, specs."
Pouting her lips and readjusting her glasses, Viridi pocketed her phone and looked down at Cobalt, who had a blankly confused look on his face.
"The Rimebound Express...?" he murmured.
She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiled down at him.
"Since the emergence of the Tempered Bastion, the Mayor Hanlon has been developing it in every way he can. With the raw resources discovered within the fortress itself, as well as labour he's hired from Sulfur Bay, he's built a new shopping centre, many apartments and a leisure centre within the Bastion. As for the portal device located near the top of the structure, I've heard he has plans to fund a second, larger Jump Terminal in Paris, but with the ongoing tension between Earth and Hell, it's been put on-"
Scarlet suddenly elbowed Viridi in the stomach, cutting her off sharply.
"You're rambling again. Quit confusing the poor mite," she stated curtly.
Viridi cleared her throat.
"S- Sorry. The Rimebound Express, Cobalt, is a railway line leading directly from the lower floors of the Tempered Bastion to a transport hub in Furnace, with a few different stops along the way. Whereas the trip would normally take around about half a week in a car-"
She glared at Violet, who replied with a dramatic one-fingered salute.
"- but with the Rimebound Express, it should take around a twenty-something hours. From what I know, its cabins have double beds, their own bathrooms, and the train has a restaurant and entertainment to boot. It was a costly development, but with the influx of demons from both Furnace and Earth, it'll pay itself off in no time. Or so Hanlon keeps telling us," she finally concluded.
"Basically, it's a big train," Amber murmured, resting her head against the armrest.
Cobalt nodded in understanding. If the train was comfortable and Lydia was by his side, the journey certainly seemed a lot less daunting.
“Got it,” he said, looking up.
Her smile returning, a look of realisation suddenly flashed across Jezebel’s face as she fished around in her pocket.
“Oh, I almost forgot. There’s something he would-“
She cleared her throat.
“There’s something I’d like you to have.”
She produced a tie. It was old; made from worn grey fabric and decorated with red stripes. Accepting it, Cobalt held it for a few moments, rubbing his thumb across its surface. It felt familiar. Comfortably so.
“Um… Thank you,” he told her, placing it into his pocket.
With a sigh, Jezebel hugged her son close.
“… Things are going to be alright again, snookums. Okay? You’re going to be fine.”
He swallowed hard, a little unsure.
“… If you say so, Mom.”