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Alone with the babies.

作者: Mystique
last update 最終更新日: 2026-01-04 20:20:30

Logan’s POV

The house feels different now. Not quieter, God, no. Louder, somehow. Fuller. Like every wall is breathing, every corner alive with sound, need, and movement. The kind of noise that doesn’t come from danger or enemies or chaos outside our gates, but from life itself. From crying that can’t be reasoned with, from tiny lungs demanding attention at impossible hours, from exhaustion settling into the bones in ways no war ever managed to do.

Meredith and Martin have been home for weeks now, and the first days passed in a blur of adrenaline and relief. Nurses came and went. My mother hovered, my father offered advice he clearly didn’t remember needing himself, and Madeline—strong, brilliant Madeline—slipped into motherhood again as if it were second nature, even with two newborns demanding everything she had. At first, Connor and Carmen were fascinated.

They hovered near the bassinets, whispering, watching, pointing out every twitch and sound as if it were something miraculous.
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  • Game over.    Epilogue.

    Madeline’s POVThe house is quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that feels like a gentle sigh, like the world itself has paused to watch us breathe, to watch us exist without interruption. I sit in the living room, Martin asleep in his little crib just a few feet away, Meredith curled against my shoulder, soft warmth pressing into me as I cradle her like she is the only thing in the world that matters. Logan leans back in the armchair across from me, his fingers intertwined behind his head, his eyes observing the subtle glow of the room as if he is reading its every nuance, the way he reads people, the way he reads me.There is a softness in the air that I have never allowed myself to feel before. Not in the way that fear or tension or threat might intrude upon us. The city outside hums faintly in the distance, a low vibration that reminds us the world still exists, still churns with ambition and danger, but here, in this home, there is nothing but us.I trace Meredith’s tiny fingers wit

  • Game over.    The Family United

    Madeline’s POVThe morning sun sneaks through the edges of the curtains, painting golden streaks across the nursery walls, and for a brief moment, I let myself breathe, let myself absorb the peace that has finally settled over our home. The air smells faintly of baby powder and warmth, of laundry just folded and milk freshly steamed, and I know that these moments are fleeting, as fragile as the sound of my children’s laughter echoing down the hall, but I cling to them anyway, because they are the proof that life continues, that our family has survived, that Logan and I have survived.I glance down at Meredith and Martin, their tiny hands clutching at my fingers, their eyelids fluttering as sleep drifts over them once more, and I marvel at the strength it takes to nurture life this small, to keep it safe and thriving in a world that has always been harsh, unforgiving, and at times cruel. I have fought men who thought they could crush me with a look, who believed that fear and intimidat

  • Game over.    Madeline’s Strength

    Madeline’s POVStrength, I have learned, is not always loud, and it does not always announce itself with blood or gunfire or fear in the eyes of those who underestimate you, because sometimes strength is measured in the way you rise from bed after barely sleeping, in the way you steady your breath when your body aches and your heart is pulled in too many directions at once, and in the way you continue to lead even when the world assumes you are too soft, too maternal, too distracted to remain dangerous.I wake before the babies cry, before the house fully stirs, because my body has learned a new rhythm, one shaped by feeding schedules and instinct rather than clocks, and for a moment I lie still, listening to the quiet around me, letting myself feel the weight of the life we are living now. Logan is already gone from the bed, and I am not surprised, because he has always been restless in the early hours, especially now that peace has replaced danger, because peace requires him to conf

  • Game over.    Shadows of the Past

    Logan’s POVNight comes differently now, not as a welcome silence or a chance to finally lower my guard, but as a drawn-out negotiation between exhaustion and responsibility, because darkness no longer means rest when there are babies who do not care what time it is and children whose emotions surface the moment the house grows quiet enough for thoughts to echo. I sit on the edge of the bed long after Madeline has settled Meredith back into her crib, listening to the soft, uneven breathing of the house, the faint hum of the baby monitor, the distant creak of pipes cooling in the walls, and I realize that for the first time in my life, I am afraid of failing in ways that cannot be fixed with force.Madeline moves beside me, slower than she used to, careful without being fragile, and when she leans against the headboard with a quiet sigh, I can tell how deeply the day has settled into her bones, how the weight of motherhood has multiplied rather than divided now that four children depen

  • Game over.    Settling Into the New Normal

    Logan’s POVThe house sounds different now, and I do not mean louder, although it is certainly that too, but fuller, heavier with life in a way that settles into the walls and the floors and even into my bones, because silence no longer belongs here and peace has learned to coexist with chaos instead of replacing it. I stand in the doorway of the living room for a long moment, coffee cooling in my hand, watching the strange, beautiful disorder that has become my everyday life, and I realize that this, more than any war I have ever fought or enemy I have ever defeated, is the true aftermath of survival.Meredith is crying again, not the sharp, frightened cry that slices through the air like a blade, but the softer, complaining sound that means she wants something and expects the world to deliver it immediately, while Martin answers her from the bassinet beside her with a grunt and a stretch that looks far too powerful for a body that small, and somewhere upstairs I hear Connor’s footst

  • Game over.    Two babies and a Don

    Logan’s POVChaos does not announce itself with a drumbeat or with alarms; it arrives quietly, seductively, like a predator stalking through shadows, insinuating itself into every corner of my awareness, wrapping around me before I can even register the danger, and then, with cruel precision, it slams into me, pungent, overwhelming, inescapable, and completely undeniable. It creeps in on the scent first, a stench so vile that it curls through my nostrils, digs into my sinuses, and immediately raises every hair on my body, a scent so visceral, so obscene, that it feels less like a smell and more like an attack on my very soul. I freeze instinctively, the baby pressed against my chest, squirming blissfully, innocent and perfectly content, entirely unaware of the biochemical warfare he has just unleashed. My arm stiffens, rigid as steel, as though movement could trigger catastrophe, because even the smallest shift feels like it might unleash a greater disaster than I can contain.The sme

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