"I don't know, but I'm going to start by saying he's my son, and go from there. I don't know what they'll need, for them - birth certificates, vaccine records, I have no idea, but he's my son, and they'll have to figure it out." She said it with complete certainty, no hesitation. She'd been so exhausted last night that she'd fallen asleep within seconds of being in bed, curling close to him and just needing him to be there, for her.

And he was. He had been without fail, since the moment she'd pounded on his door two days ago. "You know I want this to not be impossible for you, right? To not be... hard, if that's a thing we can make happen?" She said it softly, and she shifted to tug up his shirt just enough that her hands were pressed to the bare skin above the waistband of his boxers on his hips, because she needed that connection. She wasn't going any further, just... that much.

She'd tried to get this across earlier, but it was important to her. "I know that I'm not the only one adjusting, and I want to make sure it's okay." She'd fallen into that role, before. The person who tried to make their family okay, before she'd gone to jail and then he'd tried, but it was too late.