Redhawk Caldera then you'd love me, love me.

Finley could tell by his tone that he was upset with her, but there was more softness in his words than she had anticipated.  Slowly, her sobs grew more gentle.  The tears continued to stream down her cheeks, but she felt finally as though she was gaining control again.

Timidly, she stole a glance at him and sought his gaze.  She held it for only a moment before turning her cheek again, feeling too ashamed to be able to connect for too long.  She shook her head, feeling miserable as he spoke of them learning to be parents together.  It didn't seem to her that he had anything to learn at all - he was so good with Eljay, so patient, firm, and loving.  She simply couldn't imagine him ever wishing he could just pick the boy up and throw him when he was in the middle of one of his tantrums.  He never would have screamed at him for refusing to eat meat...

"I want to make him better," she said quietly, "He's so.. fragile.  And he's so scared and unhappy.  I don't know what to do.  I don't even trust myself to do anything.  I just know I'm going to screw up again and make everything worse."  She lifted her eyes skyward and swallowed the knot in her throat.

There was something deeply disconcerting to her about Elwood demanding that they keep no secrets between them when she felt so very haunted by one in that moment - one that was just even more evidence that she would always screw up and lives would be hurt or ruined because of it.  But that was another topic altogether, and Finley saw no reason to bring it up then as it had nothing to do with the real issue here with their son, even despite the tiny flicker of guilt that squirmed in her stomach over leaving it unsaid.