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Chapter Text

It was two days after the dads rescued the kids that Ron finally sat down to talk to Terry. He knew that he wanted to- and that he had to, eventually, but talking to Terry about Willy meant Ron had to think about Willy and… well everything he did. Not very fun.

But that wasn’t the point. Ron loved Terry, that meant doing difficult things. Wandering over to where Terry sat on an appropriately sized rock, staring off into the middle distance, Ron sat next to him. Terry turned his attention to him.

Not quite sure how to start the conversation, Ron began to fumble his way through a question, “So… um, Terry. Son! My son… uh, Terry Jr, you must of had an, um, interesting experience with my father, right?”

Rubbing his wrist absentmindedly, Terry nodded.

“Right, well, I know he can be- he isn’t a nice guy. He can be quite… mean, actually.” Seeing Terry’s lack of response, Ron continued, “What I would like to ask, is, did my dad, did he hurt you?”

“Oh. Well, um…” Terry looked down at his arm and traced his finger over a fading bruise on it. “Yes.”, he said quietly.

Ron breathed in. He was really hoping that Willy hadn’t gotten the opportunity.

Picking his words carefully, he matched Terry’s tone, “Did he say anything to you?”

Despite the lack of clarification on what ‘anything’ meant, Terry understood. He slumped further as his voice broke, “Yeah. I- yeah he did.”

“When I was younger, I didn’t really have the best, um, childhood.” Terry looked up again, and it was now Ron who couldn’t meet his eyes, “I often… blamed myself, and imagined that if I- well, if I was a better son, my father would, uh- my father would love me. But I, I realise now, that if my dad couldn’t love me for who I was- he wasn’t much of a dad to begin with.”

Ron hadn’t realised he was crying until he heard Terry joining him.

Swallowing, he continued, “I just want you to know that I do love you. A lot. And that wouldn’t change if you were the- the strangest kid I ever met,” Ron said that with a calm confidence that he had never really been able to speak with before, “and you don’t have to tell me what my father- Willy. What Willy did or said. But I will, uh, listen. If you’d ever like.”

For a while, Terry didn’t say anything, simply sitting there, attempting to stop his tears that seemed to follow endlessly. But then, a sniffle and, “I think I’d like that eventually. And, uh… I love you too. Dad.”

Ron smiled despite himself, for once feeling as if he had said the right thing. Something Willy had said was impossible for him.

And though neither were quite okay yet, the world felt a whole lot easier when they had each other. For once, the anxiety was replaced with warmth.

Chapter Text

Glenn… knew he wasn’t a good dad. This revaluation was way too late, and it only came about because he had a standard to compare him self to. Not that the other dads were flawless… but this wasn’t about them. It wasn’t really about Glenn either.

Nick was a good kid. Glenn let him down, as much as that hurt to admit, he couldn’t change that, all he could do was be better now.

While Nick smiled and joked, Glenn occasionally caught a less than happy look on his face when he thought no one was looking. He hadn’t been looking before.

He was planning on sitting down and having a conversation with Nick at some point, but the opportunity was thrust at him instead.

Glenn couldn’t sleep that night. Henry mentioned something about drug withdrawal, so he guessed that was it. While attempting to force himself to sleep, he heard distant mumbling.

Trudging into the wood they camped by, Glenn found the source of the sound. His son.

“I can’t-“ Nick sobbed, “this is so stupid! I just wish…” He couldn’t stop the tears.

Glenn stopped in his tracks, breathing hitched. He had never seen Nick cry, not since he was a baby. And that was… nothing like this.

Half tempted to sneak back, Glenn walked forwards.

“Hey Nicky.”

Nick flinched in surprise. “Oh. Oh no-“ he hiccuped, “you not… I’m sorry-“

“No!” Nick flinched again, Glenn lowered his voice to be softer, “Sorry. I… I’m sorry kiddo.”

Glenn sat next to him on the dirt. “I don’t think I’ve been the best to you, Nicky.” Nick opened his mouth to protest, “No, I need to talk to you. You are a fucking awesome kid. You’re a hell of a lot better than I was, anyway… and I care about you.”

“I know that dad. You’re my best friend, I care about you too.” Nick smiled and it hurt Glenn to see how easily he hid his sadness.

“That’s… that’s part of the issue, bud.”
Glenn ran his hand over his face. “I’m supposed to be your dad.”

Glenn expected this wasn’t going to go too well. Nick went the first thirteen years of his life without ever having this type of conversation.

Glenn didn’t expect for Nick to say, “What the hell? You can’t just… you can’t just switch- that isn’t right. That isn’t fair.”

Glenn hadn’t ever having to have to deal with his song not liking something he did enough to yell at him.

“I know. That’s, uh, not your fault, it’s mine. I’ve been unfair to you. I’m sorry.” He said, lamely.

“No this is fucked! What, just because you meet some other dads with a different parenting style doesn’t mean you have to switch everything. We’re fine. This is fine.”

“Nick, you don’t even feel comfortable enough with me to see you cry.”

Nick’s face twisted through anger, betrayal, disappointment, and, scarily, fear. His son was scared of talking to him. Glenn could cry.

He stormed off, back towards the camp. Glenn hated this. But it was worth it. He wanted to be a good dad. Eventually.

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.