Chapter Text
Darryl had enough self awareness to know that it wasn’t quite obvious that he was okay with gay people. He knew that to the average person, he might be assumed to be homophobic. Darryl did not expect his son to share these feelings.
A lot of things had happened over the past few weeks, but Darryl could stop thinking about it. Did Grant think he would hurt him for not being straight? Did he think Darryl would ever cause purposeful harm to him? Would Grant have ever come out if this had never happened?
While voicing some of these concerns to the other dads, Henry suggested Darryl should ask Grant these questions. Darryl was slightly embarrassed he hadn’t considered that himself. He supposed it was time to talk about it.
He caught Grant sitting alone, twisting a flower chain quietly. It was slightly strange to see him sitting so peacefully, but in an oddly comforting way, contrasting with how cold he had been towards Darryl since they rescued the kids.
Plonking down next to him, Darryl decided to attempt a flower chain to keep his hands occupied while he spoke, “Hey kiddo. Could we… maybe talk for a bit please?”
“…yeah.”
“I don’t think- or, I haven’t made it clear to you that I love you unconditionally.”
Grant gave him an odd look. “I know that dad.”
“Well, I don’t think you do. I love you no matter what gender you like, and I have nothing against… gay people, or anything else.”
“Oh. I thought you were talking about the chim- Right. Thanks.” Grants expression felt somewhat disappointed.
Darryl blinked. That wasn’t quite the reaction he was hoping for. When Ron and Glenn tried this they had a big reaction… and ‘the chim’ what does… oh. The chimera.
By the time Darryl connected the dots, Grant’s face had returned to the blank look, and he seemed like he wasn’t interested anymore.
“Grant… I’m sorry for making you kill the Chimera.” Darryl made eye contact with his son, both flower chains long forgotten.
Now, Darryl was prepared for tears, anger, or even plain indifference at that point, but, Darryl was not prepared for his son to laugh.
Grant’s smile was sick, and as tears formed in his eyes, he unsteadily rose to his feet. “No. I can’t-“ his grimace like grin twitched, “You can’t. You don’t get to-“. Out of what seemed like pure frustration, Grant screamed.
“Hey- hey it’s ok-“
Grant pulled at his hair and yelled, “It is not fucking okay!” The terrifying laughter stopped, much to Darryl’s relief, and Grant began to sob, “I’m not fucking okay! I’m not- I’m not-“
He fell down to his knees and Darryl cradled him. “You’re right. I’m so, so, sorry.”
Darryl held his son for an hour, letting him soak his shirt in tears.