The Tanner family sat around the breakfast table, their morning routines unfolding. Becky leaned over to kiss Jesse, her sigh carrying a mix of affection and concern. But Jesse, worn out from the previous day's period simulator ordeal, rested his head on the table.
Danny's mother, ever practical, placed a big bowl of cereal in front of him. "Eat up," she instructed, her tone no-nonsense. But Jesse couldn't even look at the food, his stomach still protesting the simulated cramps.
As if on cue, an argument erupted—Danny's mom insisting on proper nutrition, Becky defending Jesse's fragile state. Becky leaned closer to Jesse, checking if he was okay. He shook his head, unable to find words.
Becky leaned closer to Jesse, her concern etched in her eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked softly.
Jesse winced, his temples throbbing. "Migraine," he muttered, and then, with a touch of defiance, he turned to Danny's mother. "Shut up," he said, surprising everyone at the table.
Becky shot him a concerned look, but Jesse managed a weak smile.
The tension in the room escalated as Jesse and Danny's mom locked horns over Michelle's bedtime. Their voices rose, each adamant about their stance. But then, Danny's mom crossed a line.
"Pam always knew how to handle bedtime," she said, her tone biting. "Unlike some people."
Jesse's eyes flashed, and he pointed a trembling finger at her. "Don't you ever talk about my sister," he warned, his voice low and fierce.
The room crackled with tension as Danny's mom bit back, her words sharp and unforgiving. Becky sensed Jesse's impending eruption and swiftly pulled him away, guiding him toward the hallway. But Danny wasn't one to back down.
"Jesse," he argued, "you can't just—"
Jesse's eyes blazed, and he cut Danny off. "At least your sister's still alive," he snapped, his voice trembling with grief. "Mine's dead, remember? Or have you conveniently forgotten?"
Becky led Jesse out of the room, closing the door behind them. In the quiet hallway, she held him close, absorbing the weight of his pain.