Grace lies in her room. Her limbs are heavy weights, the bed too final. There was a time where she was certain she would not die here. She's been close several times. It's become quite ordinary. It's out of her hands, she knows now. There is much commotion in the halls. Humans and bats with broken limbs and bleeding heads. A lot of mice, too. Oh, the mice. She had wanted to be angry with Gregor for that picnic. She had been.

He's by her side now, holding her hand. Not clutching it. His hair is wet and his eyes tired. Grace had always wondered, a little, how he'd look grown up. That weight is on his face now. He's twelve and a soldier. "Hey, Mom."

"Hey. I was wondering when I was going to see you again."

"Sorry. Lot of stuff going on." He doesn't say more. His lips move briefly with the ghost of words before he lets his head fall onto the bed. Maybe he'll one day tell her. She wants to ask him about what is going on. If he's been out fighting, putting his life on the life. If she'll see him again. But he looks so tired. So she strokes his hair so gently. Her boy. A smile dances around the edges of his mouth. His face gets a little softer.

"I only hear bits and pieces. I know a war started. I see them carrying the wounded past my room sometimes." And she knows more. The weight of that war. The tragedies. Another time, she might have been angry. For her family. For all of them. "You going to tell me about it?"

He shakes his head beneath her hand.

She swallows. It's so hard to say. But what can she do? Her hands are tied. And she can't breathe lingering on that. It's out of her hands. It's been for so long. "And I can't make you anymore. I know that." She squeezes the back of his neck. "Just tell me this. The family doing okay?"

His face changes. Ripples of weariness. Something's going on behind his eyes. He lifts his head. "Everybody's hanging in there, Mom."

Which could mean a thousand things. But here she is. Confined to a bed. Couldn't hop on a bat and get her family up and running again if she tried. But he doesn't need more on his shoulders. "Okay. Okay." He's doing his best. "I just have to trust you now, Gregor. To do what's right for us." And she doesn't know what could have been different. How her son wouldn't have become the parent. "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too," he says. "Now you should get some sleep." He kisses her forehead, like she did him when he was small and she had time.