Chapter #6You don't. Not yet. by: Wassel   Deciding that you didn't - not yet anyway - it being too soon, and you were feeling too conflicted, you asked the doctor then to take you back to your room.
Allison was still unconscious from what Kerry had told you, so taking some time to get your head around all this before you rushed inside to see her was probably for the best anyway. You had so much going on in your head right now. What with Allison, your dad, this whole secrecy agreement - not to mention allowing yourself the time to properly grieve for your mother. No. Seeing her now would be too soon. Much too soon.
Helping you back into bed once you had returned to your own hospital room, the two doctors informed you that they would go find your father and let him know that you were awake, before leaving you alone. Just you and your thoughts.
You thought again about your mother, about all the arguments you'd had over the years about stupid things, and how much you regretted them now. Though it may not have seemed it at the time, everything she had done for you and pushed you towards had been for you own benefit, and because she loved you. You'd just been so wrapped up in yourself to notice. But now you could. Now you could see that deep down she had never changed. You were the one who had changed. She was the exact same caring and compassionate woman who as a child had showered you with affection and made growing up such a joy.
You could still remember all the fun you'd had when she used to take you to the beach, or how she would come to every single soccer match you'd played in back when you were in Elementary school. Her cooking had always been second to none too. Able to whip up the tastiest, most mouthwatering lasagna or meatloaf, or cakes when it was somebody's birthday. Even when you were mad at her for something, you would still never miss a chance to eat some of her home baking. Putting so much love and care into each and every creation. But now there would be no more of that. No more cooking. No more sewing or stitching. No more helping out at bake sales and charity functions. No more mother. She was now gone, and you'd never see her again.... at least not her, as she was.
Just as you could feel yourself welling up again, a familiar voice suddenly cut through the air.
"Tim? ... Oh thank God, Tim, you're awake!" your father said, rushing through the door with a big smile on his face (though his eyes were wet, presumably from crying).
"Dad!" you cried out, glad to see him as he threw his arms around you and the two of you embraced. Needing him more right now than you ever had.
You must have hugged for at least five minute before anyone actually said anything.
When you did finally part though, it was your father who spoke first, asking how you were feeling etc. and getting that all out of the way first. Though you still felt a little groggy from the drugs and had a few aches and pains in your body, physically you were basically fine. Mentally however it was a different story and you very much needed to talk to him about Allison. About your mom. About everything.
It wasn't an easy conversation of course, and a lot of it you had already heard from the doctors. What was apparent though was just how cut up he was about everything. He hadn't suggested a divorce out of spite, or because he wasn't much of a fan of Allison - in fact he was, him and your mother both - no, he did genuinely want to help her get through this. He just knew that it wouldn't be possible with him.
He just couldn't bare to see his wife of 20 years, the woman he loved, parading around in front of him day in day out, knowing that it wasn't really her. He knew it would tear him up inside and would make everyone's lives - not just his own - absolutely miserable. It wasn't Allison being inside your mother's body that troubled him. That part wasn't as much of a big deal. After all, your mother was a donor card carrier. She was both giving and charitable. Helping Allison was something she would have genuinely wanted (she always told you "that girl is the best thing that's ever happened to you" after all). No, what troubled him deeply was the thought of being constantly reminded what he'd lost...
"...I hope that you understand, son. I wish I bring myself to help her, I really do. That girl is little princess, and I love her to pieces. It's just... It's just... Your mother..."
"It's okay, dad. I understand," you told him, hugging him again as he started to cry. This starting off a chain reaction in you as well.
After that there really was nothing more to say. Your father's decision making perfect sense giving his fragile state. You didn't begrudge him these feelings. You couldn't. You had loved your mom too. And you loved Allison. If the situation was reversed... then... Well, you really had no idea what you'd do. It was an impossible situation, with no easy answers. Hell, you still didn't know how you were going to feel when you saw her. You hoped you didn't have the same reaction, but how could you be sure?
Leaving you then after your long talk (one of the longest and most emotional you and your father had probably ever shared), he promised he would be back again soon, mentioning as he went that the doctors were optimistic about you getting out. Maybe in another couple of days or so. Which was good news you supposed.
"You stay strong now son. We'll get through this," he told you, just before he'd left, "And... and I'm sure whatever happens, Allison'll be alright. She's a strong, smart girl. Way too smart for you."
You laughed at this as you pictured your girlfriend, or at least what used to be your girlfriend. Her long, golden blond hair that fell a third of the way down her back. Her vivid blue eyes and electrifying smile. Her cute little button nose with just a hint of freckles. She really had been so beautiful, and you were amazed that you'd been so lucky. Just like you're father had said, she was way too smart. And way too good as well.
You'd first met back in the fifth grade, before you'd really started to get interested in girls. Then by the end of the seventh, the two of you had started going out. It was kind of cutesy and sweet at first, with the two of you merely holding hands and kissing each other on the cheek. Then by the eight you had discovered the wonders of making out. You never really got much farther than that admittedly, Allison being the kind of girl who didn't want to rush into sex, and you were happy to wait. She was just so damn funny and cool and fun to hang around with that you didn't really care... or at least you hadn't done. You'd begun to get a little antsy recently right enough. She did have a hot little body though, that thankfully, as you got older, she gradually let you explore. She was a slim girl, toned in all the right places, with lovely pert breasts - while not huge, were a lot of fun to play with. You'll still never forget the first time she let you actually get your hands on them, back when you were 16 after Bobby Bruce's birthday. That was the same night she'd first put her hand down your pants, and you could remember with fondness the sensation of her delicate fingers on your dick. A sensation that she'd come to repeat quite a few times.
That however was all in the past now. She was in your mom's body - Your mom's. The very thought of it crept you the hell out. How could you possibly hope to have a relationship now, a physical one with a girl that not only looked and sounded like your mother, but wore her actual skin too? It was perverse, and there was just no way it could happen.
You'd still be there for her of course, having too strong a bond and an affection just to cut her off like that, but it would never be the same. You'd not only lost your mother it seemed, but you'd lost your girlfriend too.
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