Alfred didn’t understand. Hadn’t they done this before? Didn’t the last transfusion work?
Alfred was angry, he wanted answers. Alfred threw a hissy fit. At that exact moment in time, a tear did NOT creep out of Alfred’s eye, and it was NOT accompanied by several relatives.
The Mother sighed. She had been there, too. She was still there, but she was better than Alfred at hiding it.
“I like to think of her as a tank truck. A big, strong, military tank,” The Mother began. slowly. “Although tanks are very powerful, sometimes, they run out of gas, and they need to be refilled.” The Mother smiled, faintly.
Alfred absorbed what he had been told. He was quiet for a brief moment.
“I don’t think The Girl ever runs out of gas,” Alfred said, very seriously.