A quick thing before you enjoy these 1.320 words of complete fluff. Someone asked me what happened with Stephen, but when they had made the deal, they established that the one who wasn't the father would step back. There was no reason to stick around anyway.
I'm a bit of a perfectionist and odd numbers really bother me, so if you do review, please don't leave like 99. It could make me go crazy. After this little detail you'll already think I'm crazy, so there's nothing left to say than THANK YOU and let's hit 100 ;)
Donna falls heavily with all of her weight — both physical and mental — on the unmade bed, the covers rolled up creating a bulge under her back, but she doesn't really mind that much.
Before, making the bed was her first thought when she woke up in the morning, except now she doesn't even know what morning is. Is it midnight? Three a.m.? Noon? She wouldn't really know. They need to eat like savage lion puppies, no matter the hour. They just take and take, till she has nothing left to give.
Exhausted doesn't even begin to describe how she feels, since she's brought the term to a whole new level. She believes she hasn't even properly comprehended the concept of exhaustion till she actually experienced it. Her bones ache, her nipples ache, and she's positive she could close her eyes and never open them again.
Those kids are maniacs, she decides. They have fun developing a new sixth sense: whenever she can relax, they cry their lungs out.
Yet this time, she realizes, she's managing to stay recumbent for several minutes, and it's still quiet.
She hears scampering on her brand new parquet, and she instantly freezes, holding her breath. She's afraid — No, screw it. She's terrified — that if she moves a finger, something will trigger that pestiferous pet and it'll wake up the kids.
She stills, eyes closed, as the mattress tilts under the weight of her new friend joining her nap. The golden retriever spins around twice, paws digging possessively into the latex — marking the territory — in a rhythmic succession and he finally curls up next to her. Donna's hand tentatively lowers to pat the dog's head, who promptly rests his head on her leg.
"Good boy." She compliments, exhaling a sigh of relief. Maybe she could bond with him after all. She's never been too fond of animals in general, but as long as they don't pee or poop anywhere in the house or go crazy for a minimal noise, she's fine with it.
But she's speaking too soon, as the sound of the key opening the door resonates through the hallway, straight into the bedroom. It startles their calmness, and the dog instantly stands, ears fully on attention.
"No, please. I'm begging you." She whispers as she awaits the inevitable.
A bark follows, loud enough to elicit a wail from the adjacent room. The baby monitor is on in any case, so the desperate cries melt into a deafening concert. The pet jumps off the bed and runs down the hallway to greet the newcomer.
Donna's hands fly up to cover her face, and she feels like crying. It's what she'll probably do, but for now she limits on writhing for a few seconds, before eventually pushing herself off the comfortable bed and getting up to assist the babies.
She curses under her breath, entering the nursery and picking an infant up, taking her out of the shared space before it results in the waking up of the other twin. She joins Harvey in the living room, where the dog is occupied sniffling his clothing and wagging his tail enthusiastically.
"Ok, so you've been out to buy a pacifier for almost an hour, and when you do decide to come back, you wake up the entire house!" She reprimands, bouncing the crying newborn up and down.
Harvey looks at her a little bewildered, "I think I might have closed my eyes for a few minutes in the parking lot."
"Good for you." She mocks. "I was just trying to do that when that thing started baying like we were under nuclear attack!"
"Hey!" Harvey scolds her. "His name is Rick, and he's not that bad." He adds, giving him a scratch behind his ears.
"Rick might as well be the Antichrist! Need to remind you that he's the reason we had to buy a new pacifier in the first place? Because he chewed the last one?" She complains, as a new high pitched weep fills the air.
Harvey's instincts kick in and the needy cry of his son urges him to give him his complete attention. He walks to the nursery murmuring, "we wouldn't need a second pacifier if they weren't two."
As soon as he scoops him up, the baby boy stops all the fuss, wrapping his minuscule hand around his index. Harvey smirks broadly and thanks the lord they were two after all. He and Donna have certainly that much love to give and even more. So much more. But he bets she'll never let him near again. Not after having casually slipped him a brochure about vasectomy the other day. Maybe the whole baseball team idea was too much.
"I will never understand how is it that you always manage to calm her down." She says, a little bit jealous since she can't seem soothe the other baby currently squirming in her arms.
He grins at her and she would very much like to either slap or kiss that smirk off his handsome face. "I'm a natural." He shrugs. "But I think it begins with actually recognizing them."
"I'm holding Jason. You're holding Electra." He points out with a hint of amusement.
Red flushes her cheeks and she tries to suppress her own chuckles at the absurdity of the situation. "See, I'm too tired to even think straight." She recovers. "Which is why we need to get rid of that dog. Send him to a farm where he'll live his happily ever after, running even miles if he wants to."
"Come with me." He nods his head in the direction of Penelope's room. (Turns out they were in need of many bedrooms alright) They switch babies and Donna huffs when baby Electra settles down incredibly quick in Harvey's arms. She's a girl after all, Specter works like a charm.
Quietly opening the door, they peek through the wingspan and watch as Penelope gently brushes Rick's fur, telling him about how she fed her baby siblings that morning.
It's a mesmerizing vision that warms their hearts, since they're both so taken with the twins, they're glad their daughter is so emotional mature to follow this new whole set of changes so smoothly.
Harvey turns to his wife with a lovely smile, "We do our best not to make her feel alone, but babies require time and in moments like this one, she needs that dog."
Donna sniffles, because he's right and thinking about her family always makes her emotional. It's like every child she's ever given birth for this man has taken a little piece of her. And she feels overwhelmed because it's such a strong bond that she can almost sense their same emotions.
"You're an amazing father." She looks at him with complete adoration.
"And you," he gives her a peck on the forehead. "are an amazing mum. Even if I wish you had gone to a normal high school, since you keep naming our children the strangest ways."
"Oh come on. Electra was a very powerful woman, and Jason, who took the Golden Fleece?"
"You have to remember Electra killed her mother."
Donna covers the baby's tiny ears as she shushes her boyish husband. "You're an idiot." She shakes her head.
"And yet, you had three of my children."
"You want me to call Stephen to babysit?" She banters, quirking an eyebrow.
"Nah, the man has just settled down in London, let's let him stay there." He jokes, and marvels how easy it has become to joke about what could have been their end not so long ago.
"I love you." She says, so simple yet so monumental.
"I love you too." He tells her, and kisses her again.
For the uncountable number of years they've stood side by side, for every tear they've shed, every laugh they shared, every kid and every dog they're ever have.