"Baby, come and sit with me for a second," Gillian took the four-year-old Lewis by the shoulder and gently guided him to the couch. The taste of Cal leaving that morning was still bitter on her tongue, especially when she'd found his things gone from the spare room and the bed made, like he had never even come home from the hospital in the first place, but she knew she needed to explain to her son. Cal had not and so she was now forced to; he always seemed to be able to do it so much better than she could. She wondered, when or even if, his memories came back, so would the way he was with his son. They had connected when Lewis still just a baby and did that have anything to do with personality? Or was it memory... She was pretty sure she was being entirely foolish thinking anything would merely go back to the way it was.

Gillian had left work early; which wasn't entirely about getting to Lewis as soon as she could, but about escaping the confined spaces where her husband, who had just rejected her, was imprinted on every inch of the building. She had picked up her son from day care and she had brought him home. She felt she needed it, the time with him, to just be; what she had to tell him was going to be tough. She had no idea where to start and a part of her wanted to break down in tears and just beg someone, anyone, to wave a magic wand and make this better again. She didn't know how long she could keep going on alone. Her family told her she wasn't alone but she was. No one could truly comprehend what she was going through right now and the number one person she would turn to wasn't even there and she was wallowing, feeling sorry for herself; that wasn't being strong for her child. She could have a break down later.

Lewis climbed up on the couch and sat on the middle cushion expectantly. His feet dangled over the edge as he waited for his mother to also settle next to him. "Is Dad going to be here?" He started, pointing sharply down.

Thank you Lewis. Perfect lead in.

"No baby," Gillian started gently, shaking her head. She placed an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer against her. He was warm and it was comforting and she still had no idea what she was going to say. How was she meant to explain? Where the hell to even start? She hugged him closer still and then let him go again because he might have to move to be able to see her mouth. He wasn't able to read lips at any advanced level, but seeing her form the words did help with deducing if he missed the occasional sound. "Honey, you know how Dad hasn't been very well?" She used 'sick', a modified 'five' hands near her head, moving it towards her to touch.

Lewis nodded against her chest and turned his head to look up at her. It was also easier for him to understand if his ears were unencumbered. "He had a sore." He used 'hurt'.

"Yes," Gillian agreed. "He has a sore on his head remember?" Gillian used a "G" hand by her head.

Lewis nodded again. "That's cos lot's of bandages." He twirled a finger around his head like a halo to show where they had been.

Gillian showed him the sign for bandage, which was her right "H" hand sliding over the back of her left hand. Lewis mimicked her action and then sat expectantly, waiting for her to go on. So far so... well at least he was following what she was so badly trying to explain. How would Cal do this? "The sore on Dad's head... it's also sore on his brain. You know, when you hit your arm on something and it's a bit sore on top but after a while a bruise comes up under the skin and its sore deep down?" Bruise was 'black', 'blue' and then 'spot on arm'.

Lewis nodded. "Sometimes it hurts lots." He exaggerated a 'hurt' sign.

"Right and it takes a long time to get better." She used 'heal', holding it for a beat longer to show it required more 'healing' than usual.

Lewis nodded again and his eyes lit up a little. He turned his leg to the side to show her the spot where a bruise was still fading out on his calve. "This one was ages."

"That's like Dad's head. He had a sore on the outside but there's also a sore on the inside, on his brain. And it's going to take a long time to heal."

Lewis gave her solemn eyes and nodded. "But Dad's home now so a little bit better." He used 'Dad', 'better' and 'home'.

"Yeah," Gillian agreed. "But sometimes, the sore on Dad's head makes him... still not feel very well."

"I don't like being sick," Lewis offered, bringing a hand to his head and belly and pulling a face while shaking his head.

"No," Gillian agreed. "And I don't like it when you're sick and I don't like it when Dad's sick either."

Lewis shook his head again to show he agreed with what she was saying. "I don't like Dad sick."

"But you know sometimes when you're sick you want to just curl up in bed alone?" She almost added 'and get a lot of sleep' but Cal had already spent a month doing just that. Now he was awake and Lewis was very well aware of that. Lewis considered what she had said for a moment but then nodded. "Dad needs that right now," Gillian added gently. A sudden sob threatened to escape her and she almost didn't force it back down before Lewis saw. No matter how she put it, Lewis would not really understand the ramifications of Cal leaving. Not like Gillian did. He would just think Dad had gone somewhere else yet again to get better and then come back. He always had the hope his father was coming back, because Cal had always been there. Gillian didn't have the same innocence, she wasn't sure, but it was not time yet to prepare Lewis for the fact that his father and friend may never return. How did she explain that to a four year old?

"Is he in bed?"

Gillian paused. Yep, this was really hard. She had no idea how Cal did it. He made it so easy but he had to be thinking of every angle and boiling down to its most simplest form to explain. "You know how sometimes big people have big people problems?" She used 'adult' raising a flat hand above her head; the sign could also mean 'tall'.

"Like that when the car wouldn't go?" He gripped an imaginary steering wheel and shook his head 'no'.

"Yeah," Gillian encouraged. "And you said you'd help me fix it and do you remember what I said?" She brushed the tips of her right hand fingers against the tips of her left hand, then moved her dominant to her forehead, like she was cramming information in there, then opened both hands and turned the fingers up in a 'wh?' question.

"You said it was for big people."

What she had said was, there were some things that Lewis could help with, that there were some things only big people could fix and she had rung Cal to come and get them. Of course now, she couldn't ring Cal to come and make this better.

"Dad needs to get better alone so he's gone to another place to do that." Gillian paused. "But he's going to come and see us and spend some time with us."

Lewis looked a little upset. "But he's still going to be my friend?"

"Yes," Gillian confirmed and it felt a bit like her heart was crying. She pulled him against her and kissed the top of his head.

'Don't make me a liar Cal.'