"All right good night darlin'," Cal leaned down to kiss Owen. The boy wrapped his arms around his father's neck and clung on tightly. Cal had to pry him loose before he stepped back and cracked his head on the top bunk. "Ow god son of a..." Cal clamped a hand down on the crown of his skull; fiery hot pain.

Owen giggled and Lewis's head appeared over the top of the safety rail of his bed to see what was going on. "Dad are you ok?" Owen asked next, getting to his knees again. Lewis sat up to see better.

"Yep, Owen, thanks, I'm all right," Cal rubbed his head through gritted teeth. It throbbed sharply.

"You have to be careful," Lewis told him, moving 'K' hands in a Ferris wheel.

"I know," Cal responded. To be fair, he'd done pretty well. The bunks had been up for a few years now and this was the first injury he'd sustained. Not a bad record at all. "All right, I'm all right, sleep time," he reiterated when the sharp ache became a dull one. "Hop back into bed Owen." He looked up to Lewis. "And you."

Lewis reached out an arm to bring his father closer and Cal lifted his chin over the safety rail. Lewis planted a kiss on his cheek and petted the back of his head. "Dad, where's your Mum?" He signed the full sentence.

Cal was stunned for a second by the question.

"Yeah Dad where's your Mummy," Owen spoke up from beside him.

"Uh," Cal turned. Owen was standing now on his mattress beside his father, his arms up so his hands were at Cal's neck. This was not a conversation for bed time. It was incredibly long and somewhat complicated and he didn't want them thinking about the whole truth while trying to go to sleep. So he didn't want to lie, but he certainly didn't want to tell them the entire story. Not yet. Owen was four and Lewis nine. "My Mum died," Cal told them, rolling a hand from palm down to palm up.

"That's sad," Lewis responded moving his hands down the front of his face while pouting his lip.

"How did she die?" Owen asked, rolling his 'Macdonald' arches forward so they were upside down.

Great.

"In the mornin'," Cal told him instead, moving his left hand to his right wrist, then moving his right arm up.. "Remind me in the mornin' and I'll tell you about Nana." He pressed his thumb against his forehead.

"Why no now?"

"Because it's bed time, Owen," Cal told him pointedly, putting a palm against his face to rest on it. "Come on, back into bed," he hustled Owen under the covers.

"How about your Dad?" Lewis spoke up.

"He also died," Cal answered, adjusting Owen's teddy so he was tucked under the covers too. When she straightened he signed 'dead' again.

"Everyone's dead," Owen noted.

"What?" Lewis asked.

"Everyone's dead!" Owen raised his voice.

"Oi shhh," Cal hushed him. "Sleep," he told Owen. He straightened up again, careful this time of his head and gave Lewis another hug and kiss, which he had to sit up to receive. He told the older boy to go to sleep as well, running his fingers down his face to close at a point by his chin.

Cal pulled his sons' bedroom door closed and found his heart was pounding. He didn't think he was going to have to explain so soon. Emily had been a lot older when he'd told her the story of his mother's death. She'd asked about his mother but he'd never had to tell her the truth until she was much older; he'd never volunteered to. He hadn't lied to her but he'd never gone into so much detail. And now the boys were asking and he had to think about how much he was going to tell them and how he was even going to say it. They were just babies, too young for that kind of thing on their conscience. This was going to be a tricky conversation.