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He had missed the funeral. He’d spent three days captive in the lab, trying to save Kirsten, cut off from the outside world, he’d found out his father died from the really-sweet-but-possibly-evil pseudo-prisoner daughter of Daniel Stinger, and the only person he’d had time to tell was Camille. He’d barely needed to tell her, really. She took one look at him and read it in his body language, knew what love and playfulness or anger or grief looked like in him - in his shoulders, the angle of his head, the stiffness in his neck, his stunted gait. She’d wrapped him in her arms - for a moment, all the time they could steal in their too-crowded lab, too many eyes on them - and then they’d sprung back into action, a renewed determination not to lose anyone else, not to let some damn anomaly take Kirsten.
post 3x01, Camille goes with Linus to his father's grave