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“Okay,” Larchbriar says, “do you remember how to hold them?”
Featherpaw nods. Larchbriar went over this all yesterday, because Featherpaw was finally cleared to hold the babies.
“Then let’s go in.”
Mistyfoot is already there, and she smiles at Featherpaw. She’s holding Frogkit, and Featherpaw sits in the chair next to her. “You ready?”
Featherpaw nods. She had to wash her hands before she even came here, and she even washed her hair yesterday.
“Okay.” Mistyfoot leans closer to her, passing her Frogkit. He’s wrapped in blankets, obscured almost entirely, but she still recognizes his tiny face. He looks up at her, and she meets his eyes.
“You can take her back?” Larchbriar says.
“Yeah, does she need to be back at a certain time?”
“Dinner isn’t until six, so not really. Alright, see you tomorrow, Featherpaw.”
She mumbles a goodbye, but watches Frogkit’s eyes shut, his eyelashes so fine she can barely see them. Mistyfoot wraps her arm around Featherpaw’s shoulders.
“He’s probably gotta go back soon,” she says, “but you can hold one of the others.”
Featherpaw nods, and she hears a set of footsteps. “Ah, so the sister finally makes it.”
She looks up, and a nurse is smiling at her.
“If you want, you can hold one without all the blankets.” The nurse lifts Mothkit. “You just tuck them under your shirt, right on your chest.”
Featherpaw glances at Mistyfoot. “Skin to skin contact is good for them,” Mistyfoot says.
“Okay.”
There’s a few moments of shuffling, as Frogkit is returned and Featherpaw takes Mothkit, still fast asleep. She feels herself flush as she awkwardly slides the baby onto her chest, but as soon as Mothkit’s head settles near her collarbone, she feels herself smile. She can feel Mothkit’s breathing, and her head is soft with wispy hairs.
“Do you want one of the others?” the nurse asks, and she sees Mistyfoot shift.
“Maybe later,” she says.
Mothkit yawns, her palm resting on Featherpaw, her fingernails tiny.
Featherpaw is transfixed.
* * *
They’ve told her mothers curl into a protective position around their children instinctively.
They were talking about the infants, at the time, preparing her for discharge, but Mistyfoot crawls into Featherpaw’s bed, rubbing her shoulder after a nightmare, and when she wakes up, Featherpaw is tucked between her arms.
She kisses the top of Featherpaw’s head, pulling away as gently as she can. She doesn’t like to leave before Featherpaw wakes up, but she does want to check on the triplets.
Still, Mistyfoot finds herself sitting in the chair next to Featherpaw’s bed until she first awakens. Mistyfoot kisses her forehead.
“I’ll be back soon, minnow,” she promises.
* * *
Stonefur hefts the bags of groceries up the stairs. It’s his second time at their apartment, and he sends Mistyfoot a text when he’s at their door.
She opens the door. “Hey. Featherpaw is asleep, so – be quiet.”
He takes that as an invitation inside, setting the bags on the kitchen floor as softly as he can. He can see them sleeping, Featherpaw on the outside and the triplets closer to the wall. Mistyfoot looks back at them, and a smile graces her.
“Let me help you put everything away.”
She looks hesitant, but agrees. Stonefur unpacks things, setting them out for Mistyfoot. “Do you need anything else?”
“We’re alright.” She rubs her arm, and Stonefur shifts. He wants to hug her again, but he’s not sure what she wants. “Thanks for helping.”
“Of course. You know I’d do anything, right?”
Mistyfoot looks back towards the bed. “You and Stormpaw should both come by sometime.” She takes a breath. “I’ll talk with Featherpaw–”
One of the babies starts to cry, and Stonefur catches Mistyfoot curse under her breath.
“I can–”
“I’ll talk to you later,” Mistyfoot says. “Sorry.”
Stonefur nods, but he watches Mistyfoot before turning to leave. She picks up one of the babies, holding it against her with one arm, and sits outside Featherpaw, using her other arm to rub Featherpaw’s back.
Featherpaw yawns, turning in towards Mistyfoot, holding the baby closest to her as she does so, leaving it nestled in the hollow between her arms and legs. Mistyfoot reaches over to slide the last one in with Featherpaw, and then her eyes close, leaning against the wall.
Stonefur has to resist the urge to take a photo before he leaves, because he hasn’t seen his sister look anything this close to at peace in over ten years.
* * *
“I need you to take the triplets to their story circle,” Stonefur says.
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I’ll drop you off on my way to work, but you’ll have to walk home.”
“By myself?”
Stonefur nods. “You just go with them, sit outside. Feathertail packed the bag last night, and Shadepelt will be here by lunch, but it’s that or you’re alone with them for that time, and they could use the distraction.”
Stormheart sighs. Feathertail went from coughing to struggling to breath in hours, and Mistyfoot had driven her to the hospital last night.
“Yeah, of course I’ll take them.”
“Thanks.”
Stormheart isn’t usually alone with the triplets, something that’s blindingly obvious when he’s at the library, trying to figure out how to keep all three of them with him and set out a blanket.
“Need some help?”
He looks up, and a woman smiles. She’s holding an older toddler, but she offers her hand.
“Yeah, sorry.” He shifts, and she takes one side of the blanket. “Uh – I’m Stormheart.” They lay the blanket out, and he puts the bag on one corner.
“Skyheart.” She waves at the kids, and Hawkkit waves back. “You’re Feathertail’s brother, right?”
Stormheart nods, and starts to sit down. The triplets have already sat down, possibly out of habit.
“Is Feathertail alright? She never misses.”
He glances at them. “She’s – sick.”
Skyheart’s smile softens. “Well, you tell her if she needs a break, I’d be happy to take them off her hands for a bit.”
“I’ll let her know,” he says, because he’s not sure what to say.
* * *
Hawkkit peers down the stairs. He’s allowed to go down them by himself, as long as he holds onto the railing the whole time and doesn’t run.
He doesn’t want to linger in the dark, but he takes careful steps down, and then walks down the hallway, opening the door to his mother’s room. Hawkkit pulls at the covers, clambering up onto the bed, and Feathertail shifts, waking up and looking at him.
“Hey, baby. Bad dream?”
Hawkkit nods.
Feathertail makes a sleepy sound, pulling the covers around him and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You wanna talk about it?”
He shakes his head. “Want you.”
She chuckles, pulling him closer to her with one arm. “I’m right here.”
He falls asleep, and he doesn’t wake up until morning.