Daniel feels fairly prepared for either answer. For Robby to dismiss it, to maybe even joke that he's fussing too much - and Daniel would agree, despite being the one doing the fussing in the first place. Or for Robby to admit that it is still a little hard after what went down before, which Daniel would meet with understanding, with finding a way to do this that's most comfortable for his son.

.. somehow a third answer appears, though. A third answer that leans a little bit more towards the latter option from before, sure, but it's still different enough. Because while Robby admitting to difficulty by itself wouldn't have made Daniel pause in surprise, this does.

It makes him put down the clippers on the ground in front of him, not wanting to hold them as he speaks. Not because he doesn't trust either himself or Robby with them, but because he doesn't want them to be part of this conversation, not with the turn it just took.

"Robby.. What?"

Daniel's voice is soft, but still obviously surprised, even an edge of outright confusion to the words.

His hand on the furthest side away from Robby reaches out, Daniel's upper body turning until he can reach far enough for the cold hand to land on Robby's cheek - the touch gentle, but still with enough strength in it that he can get Robby's head to turn, forcing the boy's gaze towards him. Because Daniel wants to look at it right now and see what he finds there. Because he wants Robby to look at his own gaze, and to see that there isn't even a single bit of that kind of intent in Daniel.

"Why would you think that..?" There's no accusation in his tone.

Just worry. Because there's no way Robby would say that if there wasn't a mountain of emotions and bad memories hidden underneath those words.