He sat down, letting his feet dangle out next to hers. "So, what do you think?" he asked, looking at her rather than at the view spread before them.
The stars reflected in her eyes like a thousand diamonds; their light set her face aglow. She smiled in wonder. "It's beautiful!"
He smiled himself, but not at the galaxy spread before them. "Yeah, it is."
"What is it?" she asked, still not turning her face away.
He chuckled. "Everything."
"What's it for?"
He stopped laughing. "Does it have to be for anything?" he asked.
She finally turned to look at him. "Everything's for something," she replied.
The look on her face – the bitter knowledge in eyes suddenly far too old for one so young – threatened to break his hearts. "Oh... Melody. That's not true, you know."
"Yes it is." The hollow hopelessness in her tone nearly undid him. And, under the circumstances, he was having trouble finding a counter argument himself.
But he was no stranger to trouble, and he'd never let it beat him before. After a moment he stood up and headed to the console. "Don't fall out," he called over his shoulder to her. "I'll be right back."
"Fall out?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"How could I fall out?"
"I don't know," he said, working controls as he talked. "Your mother managed it somehow, though."
"What's that?" she asked.
"What's what?" he replied before grabbing what he'd wanted from the console printer with a mumbled, "Thanks, dear," and heading back to the door.
"What's a mother?" she clarified.
Sitting back down, he passed her the photo in his hand. "Not a what. A who." He pointed to the picture. "She's a mother. Yours, specifically."
Melody studied the picture intently. "What's she for?" she asked after a minute.
He smiled tightly. "See, that's rather the point. She's not actually for anything."
She looked back up at him, disbelief clear across her features. "Then what does she do if she's not for anything?"
"Wait, mostly."
"For what?"
He chuckled humorlessly. "All kinds of things, actually. But right now, especially, for you."
"Me?"
He couldn't help but feel amused – at least a little – by the strange mixture of hope and disbelief at war across her face. "Yes, for you, little one," he said, poking her nose by way of emphasis. "Remember, I promised you won't always have to go back to that room, right?"
She grinned in response, a momentary flash of sunshine through the clouds, and then, serious once more, asked, "But why?"
"Why what?"
"Why does she wait?"
"Because she loves you."
She stared back at the picture, eyes narrowed in concentrated thought. "But what's love?" she finally asked after a minute.
"Ah... Well... That, little Melody, I'm afraid you're just going to have to figure out for yourself."
She looked back up at him, sudden worry shifting across her features. "What if I don't?" she asked.
And this time, his laughter was completely genuine as he answered, "Oh, sweetie. I wouldn't worry. Somehow... I'm absolutely certain that you will."