...only madness knows my name
'I'd like to think I wouldn't die for you, but you know I would'
prompt; innocence
word count; 2896
It had been one of those long weekends, and Ophelia was trying her very hardest to get back into the routine that came with the end of it. Lucia was back from her sleep-over party and talking away excitedly at the breakfast table while Rictor humoured her and listened, Mercutio was sitting on his Daddy's knee taking spoonfuls of apple sauce before spitting it back out and smirking. The two year old was wonderful at making a mess, just like his Mama. "Phe, you're up early." She grinned at Rictor as she padded quietly into the room and sat across from her son; she'd given up clumping about in her boots a long while ago, the noise undoubtedly diminishing any chances of a quiet life with two small children.
"Thrums too well, it feels so swell, can't deal with sleep with so much here to keep." The mornings were usually Ophelia's time to sprawl like a cat wherever she'd fallen asleep, but lately, she felt far too much like she was floating for it to be any kind of day to sleep. She put it down to the children and got on with it.
"Right, Lucia, go get your school bag." The girl bounced from her chair kissing her Tia Phe's cheek before dashing off loudly through the house to get her book bag for school. Ever the popular little thing, she was enjoying every minute of it. "We're going to drop Lucia off and take Merc for his first day at nursery, you want to come?"
Ric constantly made sure Ophelia was given the chance to include herself in their everyday lives with the children, but Ophelia just patted his head with a scrunch of her face, "Lay about and take in the silence, she needs to unwind without any violence." Taking some toast, laughing as Merc spat out yet more apple sauce and giggled, Ophelia was more than happy to let the boys fight with the kids in the morning. She'd wear them out later anyway.
By the time noon came, Ophelia was still in the middle of a happy daze, something she couldn't quite figure out. She was warm, comfortable, felt like she was snuggled in a warm blanket and...
Sitting up on the couch, Ophelia pulled forth a little bit of panic for herself -she was entitled to panic, she'd figured out, since Martini got his turn the last time. Oh, the last time. The last time she'd felt so warm and happy she'd been pregnant with Merc. And it had just felt completely normal. This time felt just...
Moving to the bathroom, her bathroom, Ophelia pulled out all her toiletries, searching for the box Mama V had brought the last time that she'd just neglected to use and staring at it. The instructions put her off using it though, and she threw it into the bathtub, instead just sitting on the floor and working through everything she knew.
Warm, cosy. It was the exact same feeling she'd woke up with two and a half years ago and just knew, it was harder to tell these days, with the constant presence of love and need and the warmth that came with it. She really had just believed that Mercutio was feeling a touch clingy to his Daddy for now. The teething incident had proven the bond wonderfully. And really, it made sense that she was pregnant. The lingering amusement and thrumming desire from the party three months ago was enough to solidify that -poker nights, it seemed, were deadly for her.
All that left her to do was wait for the boys to come home.
Ophelia decided to wait for them in the garden, in the tree she hung red ribbons from with small bells on the end that tinkled in the breeze. Lucia climbed the tree on occasion and Rictor had considered a tree house. For now, she lay out over the branch with Lucia's swing, staring up towards the sky through the branches. Nothing announced the arrival of Martini and Rictor like their emotions, even though she could hear the car pull up in the driveway and then the tail end of whatever discussion they were having as they entered the house.
The amusement and mild frustration made her smile, and she didn't bother leaving the tree to go and tell them the good news, just drifting on her cloud while enjoying their unusual blend of feelings. It took another twenty minutes before Rictor ventured out and found her, "Want to join us in some hand painting?"
"Would paint a hand, or play in the sand. It's safe enough to say, but another day maybe. She's got an announcement, she's expecting a baby." Her eyes were closed as she spoke, faint smile on her face before she felt the spike of shock and then heard the thump. Turning her head, she looked to see Rictor lying out on the grass, staring up with a look of utter surprise. "Martini, dear, we need you here! Your husband's down, he's acting the clown!"
The first scan was scheduled, and although they tried to make it work for the three of them, since no one was sure which of the boys should take Ophelia, work messed things up, and Rictor had to bow out, leaving Martini to take her. It worked out well enough, the doctors remembered the oddball couple from when they were there for Mercutio.
Things go well, the scan confirming a healthy and normal pregnancy and Ophelia and Mark are just giddy all over again. Everything seems to progress the same as her first pregnancy, although her strange cravings are met with curiosity from Lucia, and she regularly shares with Merc a pot of apple sauce and some chocolate biscuits. She does encourage Rictor and Martini to think on names a little sooner this time.
She's five months pregnant when they get down to it seriously. She only has one thing to interject while Rictor and Martini argue over Michael and Alejandro, her only interjection was that they were to steer clear of Tybalt or Romeo. Rictor teasing about it once gave him a rolling stomach from her earlier morning sickness. "What about girls, have you got anything you want Phe?"
"Not a first, but maybe the middle? Rosalind is a wish, for her second fiddle." Rictor tapped a finger against his chin for a moment, thinking and nodding as Ophelia just watching him with amusement.
"Alexandria Rosalind. I like it." Which caught Martini's attention.
"Alexandria? When did we decide on that?" Which prompted yet another discussion of an enthusiastic kind which had Lucia and Ophelia rolling their eyes at one another. Men.
"She's mood swinging again." Martini warned almost anyone who came near the house. By the six month point anything could set Ophelia off, a crying jag would last for hours and make her a babbling incoherent mess. Mark tried to comfort her through them but usually the constant stream affected him, leaving them both as sobbing wrecks while Rictor tried to deal with them and the two kids.
Alternatively, there were times when she got so affectionate that she was practically attached to someone. She spent numerous nights curled on her bed with Merc pillowed against her, petting her son and just blanketing the boy in warmth and love.
Accidentally, she sparked four rows in the space of two weeks. It took three days to figure out just why the littlest thing was such a big deal and by the time that happened, Ophelia had already started crying again. Not surprisingly, Merc was one of the biggest comforts for the empath; hugs and snuggles bringing grins to her face almost constantly.
"What's the matter?" Rictor tried to peer in the house, taking a sleepy Lucia from Martini. From what Ric could see Ophelia was actually cleaning the kitchen; counters, appliances, floor, sink. Everything that could be cleaned was in the process of being cleaned. "How long has she been doing that?"
"For about two hours." Martini was sitting cross-legged, just watching from the small wall looking in on the kitchen, "She started in the bathroom and worked her way out." It'd been a sudden click and Mark had felt it too, of course his need to scrub everything to a state of near crystal hadn't made him near manic with OCD. "Mama V is not going to be happy."
"What do you mean?" If Phe was cleaning everything, Mama V would have more time with the kids rather than helping keep the place spotless. "I don't see why it would be..."
"She's pregnant, and cleaning!" Which made the whole thing click for Rictor, handing Lucia back to Martini before tentatively walking into the kitchen. The place smelled like lemons and cherries -which he wasn't all too sure about, and everything was near sparkling. Phe wasn't in her boots, she wasn't even in her skirts and corset. She was in Martini's shirt and a pair of bloomers, her stomach had gotten larger than with Merc and the nurses said it was natural in this kind of pregnancy.
"Phe, honey, what're you doing?" She looked up from her scrubbing the floor, hair in shambles but her eyes glittering slightly. "Sweetie, aren't you a little tired?"
"Fit to drop and ready to pop, she's wondering if it's time to stop." She couldn't rightly explain the sudden need to be productive, it just sprung on her and the only thing she could think on was cleaning. Her back hurt to sleep on, but it was the only position she could rightly fit into these days. Despite attempts to change that, she always ended up on her back and it always ended up aching in the morning. She wanted the pregnancy bit to be over so she could get to the mother bit again.
"C'mon then, Phe," Rictor helped her up, tugging her by the hands over to the sofa to sit. "It'll be time soon, okay. And we'll have a new baby, and you'll be a great mom, and the kids will love the baby too." Drawing her down onto the sofa, curling up together with her bump pressed along his side. "Everything will be just fine soon." And for all their sakes, he had to hope it was the truth.
It was month eight that things got utterly uncontrollable. Mostly because Ophelia went into labour almost five weeks early. Mama V was rushed over to look after Lucia and Mercutio; each understood that Phe was going off to bring back a new baby, Lucia was more excited than her brother, since the eight year old was at the stage where she really wanted a little sister. Instead of staying at home, Ophelia was taken to a private clinic, the early birth was just too much of a risk to stay at home.
"It's okay, Phe, it's okay. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and..." Rictor stared just slightly as Mark was the one taking the breaths, and Phe scrunched her face up in mild agony. She was doing rather well at controlling her powers, although the psychic nurse might've had something to do with that as she mopped Phe's brow and whispered softly. "What are you doing?"
"She's holding my hand," Mark had a grimace of pain on his face, turning to his husband, "do you know how good a grip she's got?" It took fifteen minutes for Ophelia to be dilated enough to start the birth, with Mark and Rictor on one side of her, a doctor down the bottom and a nurse on the other side, Ophelia was soaking up the encouragement and love coming from her boys as she struggled through.
"That's it, the head is breaching, one big push now, Ms Mayspring." With Rictor mimicking the breathing exercises and Mark grimacing as she squeezed his hand, Ophelia gave another push, nearly screaming as she did, and then there was the baby cry.
"Oh my god, it's here, the baby's here." Ophelia flopped back on the bed, tired and sweaty but grinning all the while as Rictor and Mark went to inspect their new little one. "Look at him, it's a him right?" The doctor gave a laugh at Rictor, but nodded all the same as the nurse cut the cord and their little boy was bundled up to be cleaned, weighed and get his tag.
"How're you feeling, mommy?" Mark took the cloth and wiped over Ophelia's forehead, smiling at the beaming woman.
"Tired and cranky, ready to sleep. But happy and hopeful, another babe to keep." It was easy to forget all about the labour and just bask in the love, even if she felt a little incomplete and angsty. Like something was now missing, like she was alone, like she was scared and...
"Well, I'm sorry but you're going to have to wait for that, the other one looks like it's ready to come join us too." The doctor said it as if it made perfect sense, but Mark and Rictor just stared at Ophelia for a moment before turning their confused eyes to the doctor.
"Huh?" The expression on their faces should've said it all; big eyes, jaws dropped, staring vacantly at the doctor as if he'd just told them their girl had given birth to a squid. "The what is who now?" Rictor was the first to regain motor function.
"The other baby," again, the tone was a clear as it could be, the doctor taking for granted that the parents knew just what was going on. "You are aware that there are two babies?"
"Yeah, of course, that's why we're so confused." Mark's voice rose, almost to a shout, and definitely with a mild shake in it. "When were there two? Did you know there were two?" Turning to Ophelia, big green eyes practically begged her to explain it. Phe just shrugged. It made sense, really, to her confused, broken and split mind. Even as the first of the new contractions started, Ophelia figured this was where the longing was coming from.
"How could they not tell you we were having twins?"
"You know, now that I think about it, they did mention two heartbeats. 'The heartbeats are strong' that's what they said at the scan." Of course, leaving that information with Ophelia and Martini wasn't smart, Ophelia just smiled and nodded, enjoying the noise of her babies, while Mark dazed in and out of the present the entire time. "Heh, guess that's what she meant."
Rictor was about ready to drop. Scrubbing his hand over his face as he tried to gather his thoughts and then, when he was about to, the doctor interrupted him. "Alright, it looks like enough waiting," this time, Ophelia's control shook a little, and Mark and Ric felt the tightening pull of pain before it slipped away, "just deep breaths, Ophelia, you're doing great."
Great was another ten minutes, great was Rictor asking what was taking so long, great was almost mind numbing agony that came with the desperate need to just escape. This cloying need to get out made Ophelia's skin crawl and she wanted to comfort her baby, she did, but all she could concentrate on was pushing and breathing and not crushing Mark's hand as he petted her hair and held on tight and didn't complain once.
"We have a head, and," and suddenly that was it. Another scream of a child and Ophelia flopped back on the bed again, this time aware that she could rest a little, that Mark and Ric would take care of the babies and she could just rest.
"Hey there, mommy." It took her three hours. She slept, she washed, she slept a little more. She'd needed stitches this time but all was well. She was healthy, her babies were healthy, her boys were happy. It felt right.
Mark and Rictor brought the twins in to see her after her nap, one wrapped in a blue blanket, the other in a pink one. "One of each, Phe, you see?" With Ric on one side of her and Mark taking the other, she could see her kids and beam. So quiet, so content, so beautiful. "We, ah, we haven't figured out who is um, who's the dad, I mean." Mark cleared his throat, finger stroking along the side of their newborn sons face. "So, we haven't decided on names yet."
The naming debacle hadn't been rectified from months ago. But Ophelia smiled at them both. "Alexandria Rosalind, Alejandro Nicodemus." Their children were named for all of them, and there was no question about it. Rictor placed a kiss against Phe's temple, Ophelia running a finger over the top of her daughter's head, grinning at the mop of black hair atop her head.
"They have your eyes." And something clicked for Ophelia.
"Her uncles, they were two, didn't know you never knew. And Grandpa was a double, it's why there was always trouble." Twins. Her mother's side, the family she'd been abandoned by. Mark stared at her a little, but it only registered because of the mild awe and fascination.
So, if they had her eyes, and the twins came from her side of the family...
Just who was their father?
prompt; innocence
word count; 2896
It had been one of those long weekends, and Ophelia was trying her very hardest to get back into the routine that came with the end of it. Lucia was back from her sleep-over party and talking away excitedly at the breakfast table while Rictor humoured her and listened, Mercutio was sitting on his Daddy's knee taking spoonfuls of apple sauce before spitting it back out and smirking. The two year old was wonderful at making a mess, just like his Mama. "Phe, you're up early." She grinned at Rictor as she padded quietly into the room and sat across from her son; she'd given up clumping about in her boots a long while ago, the noise undoubtedly diminishing any chances of a quiet life with two small children.
"Thrums too well, it feels so swell, can't deal with sleep with so much here to keep." The mornings were usually Ophelia's time to sprawl like a cat wherever she'd fallen asleep, but lately, she felt far too much like she was floating for it to be any kind of day to sleep. She put it down to the children and got on with it.
"Right, Lucia, go get your school bag." The girl bounced from her chair kissing her Tia Phe's cheek before dashing off loudly through the house to get her book bag for school. Ever the popular little thing, she was enjoying every minute of it. "We're going to drop Lucia off and take Merc for his first day at nursery, you want to come?"
Ric constantly made sure Ophelia was given the chance to include herself in their everyday lives with the children, but Ophelia just patted his head with a scrunch of her face, "Lay about and take in the silence, she needs to unwind without any violence." Taking some toast, laughing as Merc spat out yet more apple sauce and giggled, Ophelia was more than happy to let the boys fight with the kids in the morning. She'd wear them out later anyway.
By the time noon came, Ophelia was still in the middle of a happy daze, something she couldn't quite figure out. She was warm, comfortable, felt like she was snuggled in a warm blanket and...
Sitting up on the couch, Ophelia pulled forth a little bit of panic for herself -she was entitled to panic, she'd figured out, since Martini got his turn the last time. Oh, the last time. The last time she'd felt so warm and happy she'd been pregnant with Merc. And it had just felt completely normal. This time felt just...
Moving to the bathroom, her bathroom, Ophelia pulled out all her toiletries, searching for the box Mama V had brought the last time that she'd just neglected to use and staring at it. The instructions put her off using it though, and she threw it into the bathtub, instead just sitting on the floor and working through everything she knew.
Warm, cosy. It was the exact same feeling she'd woke up with two and a half years ago and just knew, it was harder to tell these days, with the constant presence of love and need and the warmth that came with it. She really had just believed that Mercutio was feeling a touch clingy to his Daddy for now. The teething incident had proven the bond wonderfully. And really, it made sense that she was pregnant. The lingering amusement and thrumming desire from the party three months ago was enough to solidify that -poker nights, it seemed, were deadly for her.
All that left her to do was wait for the boys to come home.
Ophelia decided to wait for them in the garden, in the tree she hung red ribbons from with small bells on the end that tinkled in the breeze. Lucia climbed the tree on occasion and Rictor had considered a tree house. For now, she lay out over the branch with Lucia's swing, staring up towards the sky through the branches. Nothing announced the arrival of Martini and Rictor like their emotions, even though she could hear the car pull up in the driveway and then the tail end of whatever discussion they were having as they entered the house.
The amusement and mild frustration made her smile, and she didn't bother leaving the tree to go and tell them the good news, just drifting on her cloud while enjoying their unusual blend of feelings. It took another twenty minutes before Rictor ventured out and found her, "Want to join us in some hand painting?"
"Would paint a hand, or play in the sand. It's safe enough to say, but another day maybe. She's got an announcement, she's expecting a baby." Her eyes were closed as she spoke, faint smile on her face before she felt the spike of shock and then heard the thump. Turning her head, she looked to see Rictor lying out on the grass, staring up with a look of utter surprise. "Martini, dear, we need you here! Your husband's down, he's acting the clown!"
The first scan was scheduled, and although they tried to make it work for the three of them, since no one was sure which of the boys should take Ophelia, work messed things up, and Rictor had to bow out, leaving Martini to take her. It worked out well enough, the doctors remembered the oddball couple from when they were there for Mercutio.
Things go well, the scan confirming a healthy and normal pregnancy and Ophelia and Mark are just giddy all over again. Everything seems to progress the same as her first pregnancy, although her strange cravings are met with curiosity from Lucia, and she regularly shares with Merc a pot of apple sauce and some chocolate biscuits. She does encourage Rictor and Martini to think on names a little sooner this time.
She's five months pregnant when they get down to it seriously. She only has one thing to interject while Rictor and Martini argue over Michael and Alejandro, her only interjection was that they were to steer clear of Tybalt or Romeo. Rictor teasing about it once gave him a rolling stomach from her earlier morning sickness. "What about girls, have you got anything you want Phe?"
"Not a first, but maybe the middle? Rosalind is a wish, for her second fiddle." Rictor tapped a finger against his chin for a moment, thinking and nodding as Ophelia just watching him with amusement.
"Alexandria Rosalind. I like it." Which caught Martini's attention.
"Alexandria? When did we decide on that?" Which prompted yet another discussion of an enthusiastic kind which had Lucia and Ophelia rolling their eyes at one another. Men.
"She's mood swinging again." Martini warned almost anyone who came near the house. By the six month point anything could set Ophelia off, a crying jag would last for hours and make her a babbling incoherent mess. Mark tried to comfort her through them but usually the constant stream affected him, leaving them both as sobbing wrecks while Rictor tried to deal with them and the two kids.
Alternatively, there were times when she got so affectionate that she was practically attached to someone. She spent numerous nights curled on her bed with Merc pillowed against her, petting her son and just blanketing the boy in warmth and love.
Accidentally, she sparked four rows in the space of two weeks. It took three days to figure out just why the littlest thing was such a big deal and by the time that happened, Ophelia had already started crying again. Not surprisingly, Merc was one of the biggest comforts for the empath; hugs and snuggles bringing grins to her face almost constantly.
"What's the matter?" Rictor tried to peer in the house, taking a sleepy Lucia from Martini. From what Ric could see Ophelia was actually cleaning the kitchen; counters, appliances, floor, sink. Everything that could be cleaned was in the process of being cleaned. "How long has she been doing that?"
"For about two hours." Martini was sitting cross-legged, just watching from the small wall looking in on the kitchen, "She started in the bathroom and worked her way out." It'd been a sudden click and Mark had felt it too, of course his need to scrub everything to a state of near crystal hadn't made him near manic with OCD. "Mama V is not going to be happy."
"What do you mean?" If Phe was cleaning everything, Mama V would have more time with the kids rather than helping keep the place spotless. "I don't see why it would be..."
"She's pregnant, and cleaning!" Which made the whole thing click for Rictor, handing Lucia back to Martini before tentatively walking into the kitchen. The place smelled like lemons and cherries -which he wasn't all too sure about, and everything was near sparkling. Phe wasn't in her boots, she wasn't even in her skirts and corset. She was in Martini's shirt and a pair of bloomers, her stomach had gotten larger than with Merc and the nurses said it was natural in this kind of pregnancy.
"Phe, honey, what're you doing?" She looked up from her scrubbing the floor, hair in shambles but her eyes glittering slightly. "Sweetie, aren't you a little tired?"
"Fit to drop and ready to pop, she's wondering if it's time to stop." She couldn't rightly explain the sudden need to be productive, it just sprung on her and the only thing she could think on was cleaning. Her back hurt to sleep on, but it was the only position she could rightly fit into these days. Despite attempts to change that, she always ended up on her back and it always ended up aching in the morning. She wanted the pregnancy bit to be over so she could get to the mother bit again.
"C'mon then, Phe," Rictor helped her up, tugging her by the hands over to the sofa to sit. "It'll be time soon, okay. And we'll have a new baby, and you'll be a great mom, and the kids will love the baby too." Drawing her down onto the sofa, curling up together with her bump pressed along his side. "Everything will be just fine soon." And for all their sakes, he had to hope it was the truth.
It was month eight that things got utterly uncontrollable. Mostly because Ophelia went into labour almost five weeks early. Mama V was rushed over to look after Lucia and Mercutio; each understood that Phe was going off to bring back a new baby, Lucia was more excited than her brother, since the eight year old was at the stage where she really wanted a little sister. Instead of staying at home, Ophelia was taken to a private clinic, the early birth was just too much of a risk to stay at home.
"It's okay, Phe, it's okay. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and..." Rictor stared just slightly as Mark was the one taking the breaths, and Phe scrunched her face up in mild agony. She was doing rather well at controlling her powers, although the psychic nurse might've had something to do with that as she mopped Phe's brow and whispered softly. "What are you doing?"
"She's holding my hand," Mark had a grimace of pain on his face, turning to his husband, "do you know how good a grip she's got?" It took fifteen minutes for Ophelia to be dilated enough to start the birth, with Mark and Rictor on one side of her, a doctor down the bottom and a nurse on the other side, Ophelia was soaking up the encouragement and love coming from her boys as she struggled through.
"That's it, the head is breaching, one big push now, Ms Mayspring." With Rictor mimicking the breathing exercises and Mark grimacing as she squeezed his hand, Ophelia gave another push, nearly screaming as she did, and then there was the baby cry.
"Oh my god, it's here, the baby's here." Ophelia flopped back on the bed, tired and sweaty but grinning all the while as Rictor and Mark went to inspect their new little one. "Look at him, it's a him right?" The doctor gave a laugh at Rictor, but nodded all the same as the nurse cut the cord and their little boy was bundled up to be cleaned, weighed and get his tag.
"How're you feeling, mommy?" Mark took the cloth and wiped over Ophelia's forehead, smiling at the beaming woman.
"Tired and cranky, ready to sleep. But happy and hopeful, another babe to keep." It was easy to forget all about the labour and just bask in the love, even if she felt a little incomplete and angsty. Like something was now missing, like she was alone, like she was scared and...
"Well, I'm sorry but you're going to have to wait for that, the other one looks like it's ready to come join us too." The doctor said it as if it made perfect sense, but Mark and Rictor just stared at Ophelia for a moment before turning their confused eyes to the doctor.
"Huh?" The expression on their faces should've said it all; big eyes, jaws dropped, staring vacantly at the doctor as if he'd just told them their girl had given birth to a squid. "The what is who now?" Rictor was the first to regain motor function.
"The other baby," again, the tone was a clear as it could be, the doctor taking for granted that the parents knew just what was going on. "You are aware that there are two babies?"
"Yeah, of course, that's why we're so confused." Mark's voice rose, almost to a shout, and definitely with a mild shake in it. "When were there two? Did you know there were two?" Turning to Ophelia, big green eyes practically begged her to explain it. Phe just shrugged. It made sense, really, to her confused, broken and split mind. Even as the first of the new contractions started, Ophelia figured this was where the longing was coming from.
"How could they not tell you we were having twins?"
"You know, now that I think about it, they did mention two heartbeats. 'The heartbeats are strong' that's what they said at the scan." Of course, leaving that information with Ophelia and Martini wasn't smart, Ophelia just smiled and nodded, enjoying the noise of her babies, while Mark dazed in and out of the present the entire time. "Heh, guess that's what she meant."
Rictor was about ready to drop. Scrubbing his hand over his face as he tried to gather his thoughts and then, when he was about to, the doctor interrupted him. "Alright, it looks like enough waiting," this time, Ophelia's control shook a little, and Mark and Ric felt the tightening pull of pain before it slipped away, "just deep breaths, Ophelia, you're doing great."
Great was another ten minutes, great was Rictor asking what was taking so long, great was almost mind numbing agony that came with the desperate need to just escape. This cloying need to get out made Ophelia's skin crawl and she wanted to comfort her baby, she did, but all she could concentrate on was pushing and breathing and not crushing Mark's hand as he petted her hair and held on tight and didn't complain once.
"We have a head, and," and suddenly that was it. Another scream of a child and Ophelia flopped back on the bed again, this time aware that she could rest a little, that Mark and Ric would take care of the babies and she could just rest.
"Hey there, mommy." It took her three hours. She slept, she washed, she slept a little more. She'd needed stitches this time but all was well. She was healthy, her babies were healthy, her boys were happy. It felt right.
Mark and Rictor brought the twins in to see her after her nap, one wrapped in a blue blanket, the other in a pink one. "One of each, Phe, you see?" With Ric on one side of her and Mark taking the other, she could see her kids and beam. So quiet, so content, so beautiful. "We, ah, we haven't figured out who is um, who's the dad, I mean." Mark cleared his throat, finger stroking along the side of their newborn sons face. "So, we haven't decided on names yet."
The naming debacle hadn't been rectified from months ago. But Ophelia smiled at them both. "Alexandria Rosalind, Alejandro Nicodemus." Their children were named for all of them, and there was no question about it. Rictor placed a kiss against Phe's temple, Ophelia running a finger over the top of her daughter's head, grinning at the mop of black hair atop her head.
"They have your eyes." And something clicked for Ophelia.
"Her uncles, they were two, didn't know you never knew. And Grandpa was a double, it's why there was always trouble." Twins. Her mother's side, the family she'd been abandoned by. Mark stared at her a little, but it only registered because of the mild awe and fascination.
So, if they had her eyes, and the twins came from her side of the family...
Just who was their father?