Try, try again, but Clare still couldn't shake the dark cloud still looming over herself after her night in with Eli a few nights ago. She had no idea that her mother's tolerance -and not much else- bothered him still, and if she could help it, she would change Helen's mind one way or another. After all Eli had done for Clare, and with how deeply the two teens cared for one another, there was no reason why any aspect of Eli's past should still be held against him, or used to make judgment against the character that Clare knew to be so upstanding. So with motive in mind and a cleansing breath, Clare started her purposeful journey downstairs to prove her point.

Rounding the stairwell, she found both parents in the kitchen, having a drink at the counter island and laughing over something she couldn't make out. Despite her strong intentions, she didn't want to interrupt their moment, so she decided she could come back once they'd dispersed from one another, but she was spotted before she could make her getaway. "Hey! Baby of the family!" Clare's eyebrow lifted at the overly cheery tone of her surrogate father addressing her. Figuring that leaving now was out of the question, she made her way into the kitchen and Glen pulled her in, ruffling her previously neat curls.

"You guys… having a good night?" She asked stupidly, smiling at the scene in spite of the toll it was taking on her locks. Her mother smiled, taking another tiny sip from her flute, while Glen threw his arm around Clare and grumbled out a hearty confirmation.

"Glen, honey, I think you had a little too much celebration," Helen laughed, reaching over the counter to rub his arm.

"What are you celebrating?" She hesitated, having no good history with the two of them sharing glory in anything. Glen clapped her on the back, and she held her hands in front of her, cushioning the landing into the counter's edge.

"Good parenting!" He answered, his slur a bit more prominent. "Monsieur Jacob buckled down and applied to some schools, and you… well you've always been good," he cracked, leaning down as if he possessed the ability to whisper in his state. "Really, we just needed an excuse to open a bottle of wine," he hissed too loudly to be clandestine, though she was unsure who he was trying to hide the fact from. "Have you-have you always been this tiny, Clare Bear?" He asked, holding his palm above her head to measure her height. Seemingly satisfied without an answer, he tapped the counter lightly, looking up to his wife. "Y'know what, baby, I think you were right, I'm gonna go lay down," he garbled quickly, leaning over the counter to kiss her before turning to Clare and kissing her on the eye. "Love you, kiddo," he boomed before stumbling up the stairs. "I-oh, uh, you missed, love you too, goodnight," she returned, blinking at all that had just occurred. "Um, anyway, can we… maybe talk?" She asked quietly, meeting her mother's animated eyes.

For reasons beyond Clare, her question was met with a very enthused response, her mother practically dragging Clare into the living room, sitting her down on the couch opposite to her. "I feel like we haven't had girl talk in forever! Maybe not since Darcy was here," she added, and Clare ignored the stab in her stomach. "R-right, well, this isn't exactly gossip or anything," she clarified, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Sounds serious," Helen breathed, crossing a leg. It took a few moments for Clare to compile an answer that wouldn't immediately close her off. "It's about Eli." The glass was brought back to the stained lips, tilting back a good gulp of wine. "Glad I brought this, then."

"Mom," she sighed, already able to guess how this conversation was likely to end. "Just hear me out, please?" She earned a nod, and Clare was back to compiling. "He… he's not the same Eli you met a year ago," she exhaled sharply. "Okay? He's changed so much, for the better, and it would mean a lot to him, to both of us, to accept our relationship. It's better now too, and it's healthy, and he's healthy, and we've got a really good thing going, but it kills me that you won't look at it that way," she concluded, not expecting that passionate of a display. Her mother set down the wine glass, drumming her fingertips together, seeming to consider Clare's words.

Each lingering moment of silence left Clare perched precariously on the edge, her feet dangling until she detected the barely audible sigh as she sat back. "I do have to say that I was impressed that he went to your media immersion teacher about…" she trailed, taking another measured sip before setting her glass carefully on the table. "I expected some crazy revenge plot, or a hit and run," she mumbled.

"Mom!" She cried, horrified. "That was a one time thing before we even knew he was sick," she sighed, not realizing the implications of her words until the face across from her twisted in confusion. Both her face and voice lowered as she fiddled with her hands over her lap. "Eli's bipolar," she whispered, too nervous to meet her mother's eyes. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence again, and by the time Clare was brave enough to will her eyes back up, Helen's mouth had popped agape, her eyes widened. "M-mom…"

"That's dangerous, Clare! I was worried enough about him hurting you before, but if he's unstable-"

"He's not! He's doing really well on his meds, he sees his doctor regularly, and his parents are a lot stricter," she countered, pausing. "And he has me." Her disregard was met with another look of skepticism. "Clare. What if he tried something on you?" Clare's eyebrow raised in a mixture of perplexity and slight anger at her rhetorical question, and it spurred a likely illogical answer from her tongue, without a second thought. "Would you rather it be him, or Asher?" She breathed, earning a shot of sympathy. "What are you talking about, Clare?"

"Just what I said. Because if something like that happened with Eli, it would be consensual. So which evil is lesser enough for you? Which is better?"

The sympathetic look turned pained, if she wasn't mistaken, and she knew she had gotten her point across. "But he wouldn't. Ever. He's never pressured me or tried anything or even asked, so don't go starting the angry mob." She crossed her arms over her stomach, sitting back as she debated whether this was worth the effort. "So you're not having sex?" Clare's eyes widened at the sudden tiny voice prompting her, her arms falling in shock. "What?! Mom… n-no. He knows- no." She was praying that no blush was present, scooting to the edge of the couch in case a quick escape was needed.

"Just be careful. Take precaution-"

"Mom!"

"You said it yourself, Clare, that your relationship is healthy and strong, so I wouldn't be surprised," she added, her voice cracking in an indiscernible emotion as she shared at the ring still on her finger. "Just promise me you'll both be careful." An eyebrow cocked of its own accord, and it was a moment before she could respond. "Are you giving me permission to…?"

"No. This is not my blessing, and I don't want to know when it happens. But I'd feel the tiniest bit better knowing you'll be smart about it." Clare grimaced at the entirety of the new turn the conversation had turned, nodding just to end it. "So… as pleasant as that was, can we get back to what I came down to talk about?" She watched as Helen's finger moved to touch the rim of her glass, though she didn't pick it up this time. "I don't disapprove of the relationship," she decided. "I worry about you, I always will, but Eli does seem better, and you're happier with him. You're… you with him. So you have my blessing on that. Maybe we can… try that family dinner again, if you don't try to throw him under the bus this time," she smiled. Clare smiled back, biting her lip and nodding. "I'll ask." Up from the edge, she walked around the table, hugging her sobering mother happily. "Thank you," she whispered. The two exchanged good nights and another round of smiles before Clare settled in for bed, ecstatic to tell Eli all about the talk tomorrow.

Almost all about it.