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Dave had always had nightmares. Especially once he moved in with the Kennedy’s, and finally got an adequate amount of sleep, had they become increasingly prominent. They’d been about Henry most of the time; with everything he let on about him Jack would point out his flaws. He offered Dave a new perspective that put many of Henry’s ways in a terrifyingly different light, one Dave hadn’t even dared to consider before. Such ghastly revelations made for quite the arrangement of night terrors, and he’d never been more thankful to have Jack beside him whenever he woke up in a cold sweat.
He’d been the utmost patient while integrating Dave into their new, slightly more normal, life. He would’ve gotten nowhere if it weren’t for that, Jack had somehow even managed to mend the relationship between him and Dee just a little. They were far from friends, of course, but they could endure each other for the majority of the time. It’d even led to his nightmares slightly decreasing, feeling more secure in Jack’s arms. For just a moment, he slept peacefully, right up until the prospect of being a father dawned upon him.
It’d all come as a surprise, he hadn’t known he could lay offspring, let alone that he was somehow fertile after everything. They’d slipped, not been careful enough, and it’d happened. Looking at that clutch of four eggs with sweat beaded on his forehead, so delicately sprawled in Jack’s closet, evoked a whole new horrifying sensation within him. Dave, infamously known for his murderous tendencies towards children; unexpectedly presented with four of his own. He’d called out for Jack and sat with him for a while, simply staring at the near holographic shells, trying to process everything with tears threatening behind his eyes.
As if maternal instinct, he’d built a nest in their bed not long after. They slept with the eggs in between them, keeping them warm with their bodies, and it was then that the nightmares started again. Sometimes it was Henry, going out of his way to harm those delicate shells, but mostly it was he himself who did such a thing. The fear that, despite all his efforts, he was nothing but a killer even towards his very own children. He’d woken up one night to find his nightmares had become reality, a thick fluid staining his sheets and something sharp poking his back.
In the unease of his sleep, he’d crushed one of the eggs. The rest of that night passed in a frantic haze, waking Jack up with tears staining his face and a tremor in his voice. He’d ushered Dave out of the room, woke everyone up in favour of helping clean just so he could return to Dave as soon as possible. They slept on the couch for the rest of that night, though sleep was a loose term for the comfortably assuring conversation they held until the sun rose.
Jack had sat him down the next day, Caroline by his side, and proposed the idea of an incubator. He’d been too dazed, utterly exhausted and struck with horror to process anything said in that conversation, simply nodding along with what they offered him. Once they proposed heading out to find one, he’d somehow managed to mutter that he’d rather go alone with Jack, and they found themselves in his car together. The conversations on the way to a variety of pet stores had been heavy on both of them, the necessary amount of tears shedding, but it gave them just a little bit of closure.
Eventually they managed to get their hands on an incubator originally meant for ostrich eggs, which seemed most compatible with Dave’s. It had enough places for the three that remained and included a heating lamp that would keep them warm; perfect conditions. They’d placed it in their living room, the lamp far too bright to keep on while they slept, and it now blared a warm red in the dark night. It put Dave just a little more at ease, though his nightmares only got worse after that incident.
Tonight was hardly any different; there was something threatening and feverish taking its place in Dave’s dreams. He stood in the kitchen, gifted with a view of the living room and the incubator. All the lights were turned on despite it seeming dark outside, though he couldn’t determine whether there even was anything outside at all or if he was simply staring into an endless void of darkness. His attention was quickly diverted from the suspiciously empty view out his window, captivated by the sound of heavy footsteps.
Every nerve was on edge, and he somehow knew that there was something terribly wrong. He called out to Jack, but no answer followed, and that was enough to make him realise that he was the only resident home. He wasn’t alone, though, he could sense the threatening presence that lingered around him, an all too familiar sensation creeping up on him. Every step he took felt like he was risking stepping onto a landmine, searching desperately for any clue of what his dream wanted from him.
Just as he had dared letting the incubator out of his sight, an earth shattering crash pierced through that unnerving silence. He was back in an instant, only stopping in his tracks once he saw the figure that stood among shards of glass. Henry, with his hand reaching for the third egg, turned towards him like he could hear him from his shaky breaths alone. He had a wicked smile on his face, the same one he hadn’t bothered to conceal behind a facade of care anymore the last years they’d spent together. Half of his head, no, his body, was oozing with the same void that lay outside the house, seemingly unable to conceal him whole.
No matter how much Jack reassured him that Henry wouldn’t find out about his offspring, Dave dreaded the possibility greatly. If there was one thing he had learnt about Henry; it was that he was smart enough never to let a test subject go unnoticed. He knew Dave was gone, he had to realise he was by this point, and the idea that somewhere out there Henry was still searching for him was more than terrifying. It wasn’t even so much about himself anymore, he just couldn’t let Henry ruin the only life that had ever come from him.
When he blinked it was dark again, and his eyes struggled to adjust to the new surroundings. He was still filled with paranoia, trying to decipher night terror from reality when the silhouette of Jack’s sleeping body came into view. With how many of his nights were spent like this, he’d have to be used to it by this point. Unfortunately, that couldn’t be any further from the truth, as he found himself sitting up with shaking hands and tears threatening to emerge. No matter how much he reassured himself, he couldn’t shake that disturbing feeling of paranoia that ravaged his every thought.
His eyes darted to Jack, his chest slowly rising with every breath and his mouth open in a light snore. Waking him was immediately out of the question; even if he didn’t let on much of it, Dave knew that he had it rough as well. Their situation was odd enough as was, and having to look at Dee every day with the knowledge that he could’ve prevented it weighed on him greatly. Rethinking all the ways he could’ve saved her gave him nightmares of his own, sometimes Dave would find his body shivering when he woke up from one of his own. He didn’t talk much about it, shook it off by morning, but he saw the way liquor bottles dropped rapidly in contents everytime he seemed to be doing particularly bad.
No, Jack deserved rest too. Instead, he carefully slipped out from under the sheets by himself. The floor was cold against his feet, a grounding sensation that made his breathing even out a little. He just wanted to see them, be utmost certain that they were unharmed, and then he could be at ease again. Opening the door minimally so as not to disturb Jack with the creak it had, he slipped into the hallway and descended down the stairs.
The heat lamp illuminated the incubator in a red glow amidst darkness, embellished by a warmth emerging from it. Despite knowing better, Dave still felt himself ease out when he caught sight of all remaining three eggs fully intact, resting in their designated places. He remained standing in front of it, simply blinking against the red light that painted his purple skin in a magenta glow. For just a moment, he was entirely alone without expectations, knowing anything he did or said would vanish between him and his offspring.
He couldn’t entirely figure why, but he found himself with a compulsive need to hold one of them. An urge to confirm that they were tangible, a last act of assurance. He hadn’t held them much after the incident in their bednest, too resentful towards himself to even allow himself the chance of hurting them again. Maybe it was the lingering paranoia of his nightmare, or maybe it was just a simple desire for undisrupted closeness in a household where everyone seemed to fuss over his children just as much as he himself did, but he found himself sliding open the glass door.
Very carefully, and with a tremor in his hand, he scooped one of the eggs into his palm. It was pleasantly warm to the touch, fitting perfectly in his palm due to the absurd size of his hands. There was something incredibly fragile about the life that rested in his hands, held close to his chest in the fear that anything could happen to it if he didn’t. For all the death that had come from Dave’s hands; here was a life, proof that he was able to change afterall.
Basking in the heat that his own body had hardly been able to produce due to his various surgeries, he raised the egg to where his heart had once been. He kept his palms cupped around it, letting it rest against the fabric of his shirt. With his eyes closed and his breath held, he swore he could sense the faintest little heartbeat concealed behind that delicate shell. The heartbeat that he himself missed, relieved in the knowledge that he could provide this unborn life with what he never had.
For just a moment, he felt safe. So safe, in fact, that he subconsciously cupped the egg closer into some equivalent of a hug. A need for closeness, to absorb that heartbeat that chimed so faintly; a fatal mistake. One of his claws, one that hadn’t been clipped nor chipped enough, dug into that pristine shell. He hadn’t noticed it with his eyes closed, didn’t take the extra length into account, resulting in a terrifying crack chiming through the steady sound of a heartbeat.
Sheer and utter panic set in, jolting in his place and quickly stretching his arms out ahead of his to frantically spin the egg around. Surely enough, a hole had punctured through the holographic shell, leaving cracks in it’s wage. His whole body shook with terror, cluelessness beginning to take hold as he was frozen in place. Even in his best efforts to care for and treasure a life, his hands were still the weapons they were made to be. Even if he didn’t know what to do next, he was convinced that he would do nothing but further resemble the murderer he once was if he held the egg any longer.
In his path to placing the egg back in the incubator, his shaking hands caused it to hit the top of the glass box and topple directly out of his palms. Before he could even comprehend -let alone react to- what was happening; it shattered into dozens of pieces on the floor. A mess of fluids and scattered shells unfolded by his feet, and before he could catch sight of anything remotely resembling a child, Dave had covered his eyes with his hands.
For all the care they’d put into taking care of his offspring, he had ruined it in mere seconds for the sake of his own peace of mind. If he could do this, then how confident could he be that he didn’t return to his abandoned murderous ways altogether. He feared that he was still the same man who he was made into despite everything he told himself, that this was simply the result of a nature concealed deep within him, that he was doomed to be a killer for the entirety of his life.
He didn’t exactly know how or when, but his legs carried him back to his bedroom without daring to look back. Tears in his eyes and running down his face, he crashed to the floor by Jack’s bedside, desperately shaking him awake. He woke up groggily, like he was annoyed to have been disturbed at such an hour, before he caught sight of Dave. The panic on his face was contagious as it immediately spread to Jack’s own, and he reached for Dave’s hand as if on instinct.
“Hey, hey- What’s wrong?”
Jack whispered, scared that he would overwhelm Dave if he spoke any louder. He wasn’t certain if he had heard him over his own rapid breaths and frantic sobs, so he opted to sit up and gently coerce Dave back on the bed with a hand on his bicep. He obliged, like it was second nature to abide by Jack’s instructions, and crashed into his open arms.
“I dropped one-”
Dave didn’t have to see Jack’s face -he wouldn’t have wanted to even if he could- to visualise the expression of horror that painted it upon hearing those three breathless words. Very briefly he’d considered staying silent and letting Jack rock him back to sleep, some irrational hope that this was still a nightmare, but he found that he just couldn’t lie to him. So when Jack asked what he meant, everything spilled into a blurry amalgamation of words and helpless cries muffled by where his face was hidden in Jack’s shoulder:
“It was an accident-! You- You have to believe me, I-”
Was about all Jack managed to decipher, but it got the message across. He couldn’t fathom what he should even do, too paralysed with terror of his own as he rubbed along Dave’s back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. Dave just kept apologising, frantic clarifications that it was an accident and he hadn’t meant to, like he believed Jack had to be convinced of that. There were a lot of things about Dave that he could never be certain of, but if there was one thing he knew: it was that he cared for those eggs with every bit of his soul. He’d been devastated the first time, Jack knew nobody could ever fabricate such heartbreak intertwined with guilt and self loathing.
“Okay, Dave, take a breath…”
Jack demanded, just barely managing to mask the shakiness in his own voice. He made sure to emphasize his own breathing, hoping Dave would follow along with it. The room remained wordless for a long time, and sobs slowly seized into stifled breaths that started to even out. Tears were still falling from Dave’s face, produced by nothing but sheer grieving.
“Can you tell me what happened-?”
Jack considered that it might’ve been to soon to ask that the moment the words left his mouth, but Dave composed himself minimally and started speaking in a hushed voice;
“I- I picked one of them up… It was so warm, I don’t- I dunno’ why but- I hugged it and- God, oh god it- It had a heartbeat-!”
His voice descended back into distraught sobs that cut him short of breath, his entire body shaking in Jack’s arms. That same heartbeat he treasured so much, the one that showed he was able to create anything other than death, destroyed by his own hands. Sworn to never take a life again, yet here he was, faintly mumbling that he wasn’t a murderer anymore to Jack just to hear himself say it. He would’ve loved to believe it as well.
“And- And then- My claws, I didn’t know- I didn’t mean to, I panicked- You have to believe me…”
“Shh, it’s alright- I believe you…”
Jack promised him, trying to make his voice sound as comforting as he could while wiping a tear from his eye. Maybe that was all Dave needed to hear: to be reassured that Jack didn’t think of him as a murderer so he could grieve in his arms. His sobbing became a little less franting at that, though his hands only clasped Jack’s shirt tighter. Regret dissipated for grief, and Jack understood because he felt much the same.
They remained like that, hardly able to tell whether they silently cried for minutes or hours on end. Right now they needed freedom of expression; they needed a space where it was safe to simply cry and grieve, and they found it in that very hug. Eventually, all the overwhelmingly draining emotions gradually transformed into a state of numbed stupefaction, and Jack found himself thinking of what to do next.
“I think I should wake the others- They’ll help clean and I can stay with y-”
“No-!”
Dave interrupted, suddenly thrown in motion again. For the first time since Dave had crashed into his arms that night, he removed himself from where his face was hidden in Jack’s damp shirt. There were so many emotions etched into his expression that Jack could barely decipher any of them, though fear seemed to begin taking the lead. He looked so utterly wrecked that Jack had to swallow back a whole waterfall of his own tears at seeing it.
“Please, don’t- They’ll think I- That I did it on purpose…”
Jack’s hands, no longer occupied by being wrapped around Dave’s torso, found their way to cup his face in his palms. He wiped a lone tear from his cheek, interrupting its path to join the rest that clung to his jawline. The fabricated calmth on Jack’s face wasn’t as contagious as he hoped it’d be, and Dave’s breath began to pick up once more at the fear of being perceived as a murderer again. There was no denying where he came from, and integrating into their current situation had already been big enough of an effort.
“Why would you think that-?”
Jack asked, with a voice so genuine it almost made Dave reconsider everything he thought he knew about himself. Unfortunately, when you had spent the majority of your life being shaped into someone’s monster, it took more than that to convince you of your own morality.
“C’mon, ya’ know what I did- Your own fuckin’ sister, I-”
He didn’t finish his sentence, preoccupied with wiping the rapidly emerging tears from his face. His voice was growing increasingly weaker, more helpless, as if he was beginning to give up on protesting against Jack’s proposal. It was ridiculous to begin with, they’d all wake up the following morning to find one less egg resting in the incubator.
“You can’t change the past, and she won’t forgive you, but… She understands why you did what you did, we all do, and we can see that you’re doing your damned best-”
Jack had to briefly retreat a hand to wipe his own face clean of tears, voice shaking but utmost genuine. Dave said nothing anymore, stared ahead of his with glazed eyes without actually witnessing anything. It seemed that he was beginning to accept that Jack had a point, and that he didn’t have any other option right now. Very slowly, and still with that dazed look, he nodded, muttering a soft agreement.
“Alright- I’ll be back in a few minutes, m’kay…?”
Dave nodded again, blinking away tears that fell regardless, dropping to the sheets below. Jack pressed a gentle kiss to Dave’s forehead, letting his hand linger on his shoulder for the longest he could before rushing out the room. Distantly, Dave could hear him walking around the house, pulling open a door and holding inaudible conversation. Three pairs of footsteps headed back down the hall, and it briefly crossed his mind that he was glad Jack didn’t rope Dee into this. Even if she’d spent years as a puppet, Dave still saw the child within her in the same way he sometimes did when he looked in the mirror.
Any further noise was filtered in the haze that washed over him. He had become so accustomed to blocking anything remotely traumatic, it was how he had forcibly learnt to live in all his time spent with Henry. No matter how much he tried, nothing could pierce the sheer void that washed over him. He could hardly feel his movements as he lay down on the sheets, curling up with his arms hugging his chest and his knees pulled high. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could roll up and simply disappear; he wished for nothing more.
Jack returned soon, silently slinking back into the room with his eyes fixed on Dave. He knew Dave well enough to understand that nothing he said would register, opting to join him on the bed. Ever so gentle, he pressed himself against Dave’s back and wrapped an arm around his chest. Before he even had the opportunity to ask whether this was okay, Dave had already grabbed Jack’s hand with his own. The room was void of any sounds aside from their soft breaths as they settled in place.
“Why’d you grab one-?”
Eventually, Jack was the one to break the silence. He knew Dave wouldn’t talk by himself, after all; he had never been allowed to before he moved in with Jack. Though he hoped to get a reaction, his voice was in no way demanding. It took some time for Dave to respond, his voice raspy and low when he finally did:
“I dunno… I had a nightmare, ‘guess I just wanted to- Confirm they were real, or somethin’ stupid…”
There was a disconnect in his voice, Jack had learnt to recognise it a while ago. He squeezed Dave’s hand, an offer of comfort that was reciprocated almost immediately. Jack let the words sink in, his thumb tracing Dave’s bruised knuckles. He sympathized with that oddly lingering feeling all too well, he’d gone to see the incubator once before when he woke up in a cold sweat. There was something about the tangibility that put his mind at ease, it resonated between the both of them.
“It’s just… It’s hard, and I’m scared-”
Jack didn’t have to further enquire as Dave continued by himself, his voice slowly growing fuller with emotion. Jack didn’t have to see his face to be able to tell that he was crying again, the soft sniffle of his nose was enough. To anyone else getting upset again would’ve been a bad thing, but it was massive progress for the otherwise secluded Dave. He was glad Dave felt safe enough to be openly upset alongside him.
“I don’t- I don’t think I can be a good dad…”
“Nobody does- You’re learning, and this hasn’t exactly been… A standard procedure.”
Jack mumbled in response, his voice muffled from where his face was buried in Dave’s tangled hair. Jack was doing his absolute best to keep himself together in favor of Dave, he’d find the time to grieve later. Another set of footsteps traveled down the hallway, having been awoken by the commotion.
“I’m scared I’ll become like him-”
Dave had been avoiding saying Henry’s name more as of late, it seemed he could only speak of him if it was in a positive light. Regardless, Jack always understood what -or rather: who- he meant. Dave’s hand squeezed his again, though he didn’t relieve the tension this time.
“You’re nothing like him.”
Jack's response was firm and certain. If there was one thing he was convinced of, it was that Dave did not resemble Henry in any way. He’d seen his soul; dark and haunted by its past, but pure at its very core.
“He made me in his image- I dunno’ what I’d be if it weren’t for him…”
“Do you think he would’ve cried?”
Jack asked, having to conceal the anger that threatened to intertwine with his voice. It was directed towards Henry entirely, aggravated that he managed to destroy Dave’s self esteem altogether even when they were apart.
“I don’t think I evah’ saw him cry.”
“Exactly, he doesn’t feel remorse for what he’s done. That’s where you’re different.”
“D’ya think remorse is enough ta’ make me a better person-?”
“There’s so much more to you… But even so, I like to believe it is.”
Dave merely hummed in response, hesitant but comforted regardless. It didn’t take away any of the grief, but it eased Dave’s mind a little. So long as he had Jack and his family by his side, he would have the space to process his grief without false accusations or judgement. He could get used to it. They fell into a slightly more comfortable silence, listening to the distant chatter somewhere in their house as they made an attempt to process their loss.
Conversation eventually ceased, replaced with a pair of footsteps approaching their room. The door creaked open, and Jack peered over his shoulder to see Caroline standing the opening. Light poured in from the hallway behind her, illuminating their embrace as she eyed them with curiosity. He gave her a small nod of acknowledgement, trying and failing to make his lips curl into a smile.
“Hey, you two…”
She began, ever so careful as she stepped further into the room. Dave didn’t acknowledge her directly, but his ear twitched at the sound of her voice. Caroline had been the biggest support in taking care of his offsprins, she was utmost understanding and patient with them. Both Dave and Jack were quite fond of her; it was hard for anyone not to be.
“Everything’s cleaned, we’re having something to drink before going back to bed… Would you like to join us?”
She offered, her voice gentle and patient as ever. Dave stirred in Jack’s arms, turning towards him without releasing his hold on his hand. He gave a nod, questioning look towards Jack, who hummed in response. They began the notion of sitting up, wiping their tears dry as they went.
“I’ll make tea for the both of you.”
Caroline added, giving them a second to voice any obligation before turning back around. They got up from the bed, Dave still shaking on his feet. Just as Jack was about to ask whether or not he was okay with going, Dave had already pulled him into a hug. He reciprocated without question, hands clasped into his shirt as their bodies slumped together into an embrace that said more than any ‘thank you’ ever could. When they finally retreated Dave gave him a nod, intertwining his hand with Jack’s, who led them out of the room.
They arrived in their living room to find Dee slinked to Peter’s side, her posture exhausted but her glowing eyes wide awake. Caroline was still standing in the kitchen, retrieving two teabags in the faint light that’d been turned on in the living room. The door to the incubator was slid closed again, though it only contained two eggs by this point. Dave swallowed back that harrowing feeling of impending doom as he saw the wet stain on the floor, instead focussing on following Jack to the second couch they’d purchased as a result of their expanding household. He flopped down on the cushions, still somewhat numb within his own body, and leant against Jack’s side.
“Here you go…”
Caroline returned from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in hand which she handed to Dave and Jack. She picked her own up from the coffee table and sat down on the side of Peter that wasn’t occupied by Dee, leaning her head against the cold plastic of his phone-head. Jack rubbed a comforting line across Dave’s arm, a gesture that usually would’ve earned them a remark from Dee if it were any other day. But she understood the weight of the situation and remained silent, her eyes fixed on her own cup of tea. There was an obvious unnerved tension in the air that betrayed the fact nobody dared to say anything, fearsome of accidentally making an offensive comment.
“Well fuck, where to start-”
Dave commented crudely, accompanied by a breathless laugh which barely concealed the sob it would’ve been otherwise. Jack pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, as if to simultaneously soothe and encourage him. Caroline, taking a sip from her half-empty glass, was the one to offer a proposal:
“Do you want to tell us what happened?”
Dave sighed, looking up at the ceiling to make an attempt at concealing the tears that filled his eyes again. Just as Jack wanted to assure him, Dave’s hand raised to gently squeeze his where it traced along his bicep. He nodded, making an attempt at a smile to reassure Jack before he started speaking:
“I went to see ‘em, after I had a nightmare- Dunno why but, I picked one up, and-”
His sentence was interrupted by a choked back sob, furiously wiping tears away with the back of his hand. Even if it went a little rocky, Dave was showing a lot of vulnerability for someone who had never had a safe space to do so. Jack made a mental note to say that he was proud of him for that another time.
“One of my claws accidentally pierced the shell without me noticing- I panicked, ‘n when I went to put it back-”
He didn’t have it in to finish his sentence, angling himself towards Jack to better hide in the comfort of his arms. Silence embraced them as Dave stifled his sobs, a mutual understanding that nothing they could say would make this any better.
“It all went so fast- I didn’t mean to…”
He added, wanting to be absolutely certain that he had justified himself, that they didn’t get the wrong impression. There was a brief moment when he first saw the clutch where he considered shattering them and hiding the entire thing, evoked by panic over something so unexpected. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it back then, and revisiting the thought made him sick to his stomach.
“I think we know you didn’t-”
Now it was Peter’s turn to speak, his voice a lower ring than usual. He briefly turned his dial towards Dee and Caroline, who both nodded in confirmation at the gesture. Dave just barely caught sight of it with the way he was still wiping his face dry, but it got the message across regardless. The experience of having a loving family was foreign to him, but he found himself ease into the comfort quicker than before.
“I can clip your nails- I’m pretty good at it.”
Dee raised her head as she spoke, finally tearing her eyes from her cup of tea. Her offer caught Dave off guard, but managed to draw a genuine smile from him regardless. Jack was right; she might never forgive him for what he made her, but she was sympathetic regardless.
“Really…? You got polish too-?”
His voice was still heavy with emotion, but it brought a slightly more relaxed tone into the room. Dee smiled, with that excited sort of expression that could only be assigned to the innocence of a child, and eagerly nodded. Dave sipped from his tea, cooled down enough to drink by now, and added:
“I’ll be stoppin’ by real soon, then-”
Dee gave him a thumbs-up in response, trying to suppress her excitement at finally having someone to give a manicure in favor of the serious situation at hand. Dave would’ve much rather listened to her talk for longer than sit in the uncomfortable silence that followed, but he was left with no choice. Caroline, with that caring tone, was the one who released them from it:
“How’re you feeling-?”
“Pretty fuckin’ upset-”
Dave commented dryly, too utterly drained to say much else. Jack muttered an agreement, followed by a yawn which would soon set a train of exhausted yawns in motion. Their mugs of tea had been getting closer to being finished, and it seemed everyone’s sleeplessness was starting to catch up to them.
“I think we all are-”
Peter commented, and Dave found his eyes drifting towards the incubator. It had become a central part of their living room, and was slowly integrated into each one of their lives. In his own grief and misery, Dave had hardly even thought about the fact that they meant something to everyone in the room.
“I suggest we go back to bed for the night, we can discuss this further when we’re all a little clearer in the head. Is that alright with you?”
Caroline suggested, earning a nod from Dave and Jack. It’d all been a lot; from the incident itself to the emotions it evoked, and right now their primitive instincts wanted nothing more than to sleep this one out. Caroline had a point too; nothing sensible ever came from combining sleep deprivation and emotional distress. With hushed goodnights, the five of them retreated back to their rooms, leaving the incubator in their wake.
The Kennedy family went back to bed that night with one less resident in their house.