Chapter Text
The birth announcement came in the mail like the one before had.
Kevin passed it to Aaron after opening. “Triplets.”
“With enough names for quintuplets.” Aaron responded, reading over the curly lettering announcing the arrival of Alix Lana Josephine Knox-Moreau, Oliver Kieran Antoine Knox-Moreau, and Violet Ophelia Caroline Knox-Moreau.
“I think it’s a French thing. The two middle names.” Kevin came up behind Aaron and wrapped his arms around his torso. He rested his chin on Aaron’s shoulder as they looked at the card. To their credit, the babies were very cute despite their names.
“They're cute.”
“They're extremely cute,” Kevin retorted. “Jean and Jeremy went the surrogacy route this time, so one of them is the bio dad.”
Aaron snorted and craned his neck trying to look at Kevin. “I’m not arguing against Jeremy and Jean's cuteness, calm down. Also, how do you know its surrogacy and then not know which one shot their load?”
Kevin pouted and kissed his cheek. “That's crude, why can’t you say ‘donated’ like a real doctor?”
“I am a real doctor. They jerked off in a cup, they didn't give clothes to Goodwill.”
Kevin made a loud noise of disgust and buried his nose in Aaron's air. “Anyway, you're the only man I have eyes for.”
Rolling his eyes, Aaron turned and wrapped his arms around Kevin's wide, warm chest. “I’m not worried, I’m pretty confident you only hunt down special edition copies of my obscure favorite books for me. And that you only fly me to Rome for our anniversary. And that you only start a new annual fundraiser at my hospital. And –”
“Okay, thank you, doc.” Kevin poked his forehead back and cut him off with a kiss. Aaron was pretty sure he would never stop feeling like he was stepping into a cool pond on a sunny day every time he kissed Kevin. It was refreshing and invigorating and made him so, so happy.
They gently pulled apart, and Aaron felt Kevin's hands start to creep lower, playfully groping his ass.
“So…” Aaron drawled, “I have the morning off.”
Kevin grinned, scooping Aaron up and bringing them back to the bedroom.
*****
The birth announcement went up on their fridge, and Aaron mostly forgot about it. Between their own busy careers, social events, and helping with Katelyn’s young kids, he was more concerned with his life in Chicago than Kevin's friends across the country.
It was three weeks later at four thirty in the morning when they quickly became his concern. Kevin slept like the dead, so when his phone started ringing non-stop, Aaron was on the hook for making the problem go away. It was the insufferable pre-programmed chimes at full volume in the desperate hope that the alarm would wake up Kevin. After the third call, Aaron was certain he wouldn't be getting back to sleep.
He groaned and shoved his head into the pillow, regretting the first moment he ever shared a bed with Kevin. With a sigh, he heaved himself over Kevin's sleeping body and grabbed his phone.
“Hello?” Aaron muttered tiredly into the phone.
He was met with a wall of rapid fire French, wrapped in a tone of panic and distress. He leaned back, smacking Kevin's shoulder as hard as he could, hissing at him to wake up. Kevin groaned and blinked dazedly at Aaron. Aaron turned his attention back to the phone.
“Jean, this is Aaron. I’m trying to wake Kevin up, one sec.”
Kevin's eyes were slipping closed, and Aaron shook his shoulder until Kevin pushed him off. “Wuh’s goin’ on?”
Aaron shoved the phone to his ear. “It's Jean. I'm going back to sleep.”
Kevin furrowed his brow and accepted it. “Allô? Jean? Qu’est-ce qui se passe?”
Aaron started to drift off, lulled by Kevin's low voice and quiet French. Several quick taps to his shoulder ripped that dream away.
He glared at Kevin with a single, scathing eye. “What.”
“They need a pediatrician,” he whispered, holding the mouthpiece away from his face.
“I’m not a pediatrician when the sun isn't out. Tell them to call their actual doctor in the morning,” Aaron grumbled and rolled over.
Kevin pushed at his shoulder again. “Sweetheart, it’s bad. They need help.”
Aaron groaned and stuck his arm out for the phone. Kevin smiled gratefully, switching to English. “Jean? I’m passing you to Aaron, okay?” He said something else in French, then slipped the phone into Aaron's waiting hand.
“Alright, what's wrong?” Aaron tiredly rubbed his eyes.
He heard a shaky inhale that put him on high alert. He bolted upright, tentatively asking, “Jean? What’s going on?”
Kevin rubbed his hands together nervously, watching Aaron intently. At the second prompting, the words vomited out of Jean.
“Gigi got sick from preschool, probably fucking Ben, and she's been throwing up everything we give her, and she won't sleep and she only wants Jeremy, but Walker also got a cold from school and he won't stop coughing but he wants to sleep in our bed, but we can't have both, and, and, the triplets are crying and I’ve been trying to get them down for hours, and I don't know what to do anymore.”
Aaron let him ramble, mouth hanging open. He stared at Kevin, who was biting his lip and shrugging helplessly.
“Okay, um,” he started, trying to shake sleep out of his mind. “That's a lot. I don't blame you for being overwhelmed. Sorry, it's late, I need a second to think.”
“No, no, I’m sorry for calling. I just,” Jean said, then his tone abruptly shifted. “Oh mon petit chou, I know you feel bad. Can we try the syrup one more time?”
Aaron's heart ached. It wasn't heart surgery, but he hated the thought of children suffering. He poked Kevin, whispering at him to get his laptop, and turned back to Jean.
“Sorry, that was Walker.”
“Don't apologize. Here's what you're going to do: I assume you have a fuck-you big house out there, right?” He waited for a confused affirmative and continued. “Take all the blankets and pillows in the house and make a massive pile in your living room, or den, or whatever. Bring all the kids, including the babies there, and put on Winnie the Pooh or My Neighbor Totoro, something nice and gentle.” He looked up as Kevin returned with the laptop and opened it, searching for tickets to Los Angeles. With a nod, he rotated it back to Kevin, trusting him to take it from there.
“Line yourselves up so Gigi is on the outside, then Jeremy, then Walker, then you. Bring the bassinets into the room with you so you don't have to go far for them. Have both kids gargle saltwater and give Gigi a fresh bowl. If you're up for it, give them both a rag bath. If not, don't worry about it and give Walker a long bath tomorrow morning. The steam should help with his cold.”
Jean sucked in a breath. “Okay. We can do that.”
“Yes, you can. Childhood sickness happens, they will be okay.” Kevin tapped the screen, indicating a flight scheduled for three days from now. Aaron gave him a thumbs up.
“It’s just so much, all the time.” Jean whispered, like he was almost hoping Aaron wouldn't hear it.
“Do you guys have a guest room?”
“Yes? Why?”
“Kevin and I will be there in three days to help out. Five kids is a lot, we’re giving you a break.”
“You don't have to do that,” Jean responded, sounding somewhere between guilty and alarmed.
“Too late, Kevin already booked non-refundable tickets.” The man in question snorted. Kevin always purchased refundable tickets, their schedules were too capricious for anything else. But Jean didn't need to know that. “If you don’t accept our help, I’ll tell Neil you called. Would you rather have us, or the Danger Magnets?”
Jean said nothing. One thing all the members of the Perfect Court had in common besides being gay and insane, was their inability to cope with being wrong. Which usually resulted in silence.
Aaron smiled tiredly when Kevin showed him the flight confirmation, and blew him a silent kiss. “Go be with your kids. You will all survive the night, and we will be there to help. Do you want to talk to Kevin?”
“Yes, please.”
Aaron passed the phone back to Kevin. “Well, I’m going back to sleep.”
Kevin nodded and left the room, speaking in soft, soothing tones. Aaron mentally planned how to arrange last minute days off and what to do about distressed not-exactly-new parents until he succumbed to sleep.
*****
On the flight to LA, Aaron laid out his plan to bring Jean and Jeremy down from the ledge. Kevin listened attentively for about thirty minutes, then immediately fell asleep for the rest of the flight. Aaron was forever jealous of his ability to sleep anywhere.
Kevin had predictably booked some ridiculously fancy rental car for them to use - one that Aaron refused to be on the hook for if he scratched it. He dozed while they made their way out to the suburb where Jeremy and Jean lived. It wasn't too bad of a drive, and with a coffee and a plane nap, Kevin got them there by mid morning.
They pulled into a leafy driveway with a high gate. Kevin leaned out to press the buzzer, politely informing the family they had arrived. Instead of a perky welcome from Jeremy, three separate voices answered.
“Can’t come in without the passwoooord!”
“Walker, stop –”
“Gimme, gimme, I wanna do it!”
“No!”
“Gigi, get down from there –”
The argument was followed by some scuffling and a loud bang, then a child wailing loudly. Aaron rolled his eyes - four year olds were ripe for fake tears.
The mechanical sound of the box cut off briefly and Kevin gave him an unsure look. A moment later, it crackled back to life and Jeremy sighed. “Come on in, you know where to find us.”
Everytime they went out West, Aaron was surprised by the trees. Over a decade in Chicago made him unused to palm trees and sycamores, and Jeremy and Jean’s insanely nice yard was pleasantly shaded by them and gently overgrown with creeping desert flowers.
Aaron had been here maybe twice before; usually they ended up meeting up in whatever exotic location Kevin and Jean wanted to go on vacation. Kevin came out more often to visit, and he parked in front of the garage. He swatted Aaron’s hand away when he attempted to carry their bag, and grabbed his hand to lead him inside. When they rang the bell, Jeremy shouted from inside, “it’s unlocked!”
The entryway was plastered with dozens of framed photos of Jean and Jeremy and their friends and kids. Aaron dropped his backpack next to the duffel Kevin brought in, observing the pictures while Kevin greeted the two with tight hugs. He turned back to them after a moment.
“You have a small army of children.”
“UNCLE KEVIN!” Two little voices shrieked, followed by the sound of pounding footsteps, and then two bodies launching themselves at Kevin.
He crouched down to hug them tightly. “How are my favorite princess and prince?”
“We, we, we got worms at school! For tha garden!” Gigi said, wrapping her arms around Kevin’s neck.
“Daddy said I can start exy this summer! And, and I got a fish book at the libary!” Walker, her older brother, added, hopping up and down. “Can we play while you’re here? Pretty pretty please?”
“Of course we can. But for starters, you, me, and your Papa are going out today.” They gave him quizzical looks and Jean blinked in confusion. Kevin grinned. “How does a visit to the aquarium and pancakes for dinner sound?”
Ear-splitting shrieks of joy filled the room, and even Aaron winced from the noise. Kevin was great with kids, in that he was great at riling them up.
“But first,” he held up a finger, “you two need to get dressed. Let’s go!” He scooped Gigi up to sit on his hip and threw Walker over his other shoulder, much to their delight. He started up the stairs, calling for Jean over his shoulder. Despite his initial confusion, Jean trailed after Kevin, throwing Jeremy and Aaron lost looks as he went up.
Aaron turned to Jeremy. “So, show me these babies.”
Jeremy nodded mindlessly, running a hand through already messy hair. As he led them upstairs, Aaron made mental notes of the house. It was gorgeous, big windows, quirky yet tasteful decor, and of course, kid’s toys everywhere. There were folded piles of laundry on the stairs, shoes kicked off next to the sofa and front door, and opened then abandoned boxes in the hallway. Jeremy didn't look at all like the sunshiney, happily retired father of two that Aaron had seen last time they visited. His shoulders were tense and drawn, his hair was stringy and unbrushed, he was wearing loose pajama bottoms and a stained shirt, and most noticeably, he didn't say a word to Aaron as they went.
Walking past the sounds of enthusiastic kids getting ready for the day, Jeremy led him to a large nursery. It was a calming sage green, with three little cribs lined up on the wall opposite the window. The rocking chair in the corner was full of tiny baby clothes, and there was a haphazard stack of books on the floor between two of the cribs. A newborn playmat was laid out on the carpet, and there were a few other odds and ends scattered about. Aaron made his way over to the cribs and peered down at three sleeping infants.
“Who’s who?” He asked quietly.
Jeremy shuffled over to stand next to him, chewing on his cuticles. “Violet, Oliver, and Alix. We try to keep Violet in purple, Oliver in green, and Alix in red for now, just because they're so little.” He darted a look over at Aaron, then back at his kids, picking at his lips like he expected judgement. Aaron nodded, resting his hands on the center crib.
“That’s a good idea. Hopefully they start developing more distinct facial features soon, and then you can have some fun with dressing them up.” He had memories of Kevin getting a weekly email when Walker and Gigi were babies, with their best outfits as picked by Jeremy and Jean.
Jeremy sagged onto the crib to the right. “I’m going to be the only parent in the world who can’t tell their kids apart. Ollie’s a boy, but Violet and Alix are identical. What if I swap them, like, permanently?” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I put a purple sock on Alix last week and cried for an hour. I think I’m going insane.”
Aaron hummed sympathetically. “I mean, a lot of people can't tell me and Andrew apart.”
Jeremy cut a sharp glare his way, and Aaron clued into the fact that maybe, dry humor would not be appreciated in this situation.
“You'll be able to tell them apart,” he quickly reassured. “And it's no big deal if you mix them up sometimes, they'll learn who they are pretty soon.” He watched Jeremy carefully as he dangled his arm in the crib, gently stroking Alix’s cheek with a finger.
Jeremy sighed with the weight of the world. “I just feel like I’ve already failed them.” His voice started trembling a little, and Aaron politely looked away. Honestly, he wasn't that close with Jean or Jeremy, so he could only assume it was the utter exhaustion lowering Jeremy’s defenses. “Gigi and Walker are adopted, but these three are surrogates. Jean insisted I be the bio father because he’s convinced that Moreau genes are cursed, but like, my family is fucking crazy, so I'm pretty sure I’m cursed too. What if I ruined them already just by bringing them into the world?” He groaned and put his face in his hand, muffling himself behind his fingers. “God, that’s such a horrible thing to say, they didn't do anything, and it sounds like I'm blaming them.”
Aaron was frozen. He usually comforted children before life-changing procedures, not adults having a meltdown about their parenting and cursed genetics. For a moment, he desperately wished he hadn't sent Kevin and Jean out of the house. Awkwardly, he patted Jeremy's shoulder, which only made him tense up even more.
A series of cries jolted them. Jeremy looked ready to join in.
“Okay, okay, let's get them all fed and changed, and then we can try some other stuff, okay?” Aaron said hurriedly. Jeremy nodded, sniffing back tears and picking up Oliver. Aaron reached for the other two, shushing and bouncing them as best he could while Jeremy went through the motions. After at least an hour of feeding, changing, and cuddling, Jeremy gave Aaron a defeated look.
“It’s like this all the time.” His voice wobbled. “I don’t know what else to do.”
Aaron handed Jeremy a second baby, and started assessing the one he was holding more carefully - Violet, based on her purple onesie. She was grunting and heaving sobs.
He looked up at Jeremy. “Let’s get them laid out on the floor. I want to try something.”
They laid all three babies on the mat on the floor. Gently, Aaron put his fingers under Violet’s hips, rocking her side to side. After a few movements, he moved to start massaging her belly, and within minutes, she let out a comically loud fart and relaxed like nothing had ever been wrong. Aaron beamed, tickling and cooing at her as he picked her up and handed her to Jeremy.
“She was constipated. You can tell because her tummy’s a little hard, see? She’s probably going to shit her brains out in a bit, so be prepared for that.”
Jeremy cuddled her to his shoulder, expertly laying her head against him. “What did you just do to fix it? That was, like, instantaneous.”
“Tummy massage and the tiniest bit of baby chiro.” He said, moving on to Alix. “I’m not totally sold on the whole adjustment thing, but I’ve seen it work really well for some people, so I took a continuing education course on it. It's really interesting, and the movement is good because little bitty systems are still learning how to digest, aren't you?” He danced his fingers up Alix’s stomach and arms, bopping her nose. She gave a gummy smile, flinging her arms around. Aaron smiled and when he turned to Ollie, he had already stopped crying and was chewing on his hand.
“Looks like you have a sympathy crier. Were you crying for your sisters? Are you so sweet?” Aaron rubbed his tummy, reaching to scoop both babies up and hold them against his chest. He turned to Jeremy, finding him staring blankly at some point over Aaron’s shoulder.
“Jeremy?”
Jeremy swallowed thickly, bouncing Violet on instinct, but his eyes said he was far, far away. Aaron really wished Jean and Kevin were still here.
“Jeremy.” He called again, trying to inject authority in his voice. “Come back. Alix and Ollie need their dad.”
His eyes snapped to Aaron’s face, determined and intense. “What do they need? Are they okay?”
Aaron sighed in relief. He kinda had no other plan if that didn’t work. “They’re fine. Babies always want to be cuddled, and frankly, they don't know who I am.” The two emphasized his point by wiggling and grunting, attempting to escape as best their little bodies could.
Jeremy shifted Violet to one arm and reached out, then retracted his arm. “Fuck, I can't hold them all. I can't hold them. Aaron, what do I do?” His words sped up, filled with panic. “I’m failing, I’m failing them, I can’t do it.”
“No, no, you’re not,” Aaron hurried to say. “You’re okay. Let’s go downstairs, get comfortable on the couch, I can put all three on you.”
“I can’t, I can’t,” Jeremy babbled. “What if I drop them on the stairs?”
“You’ve never dropped a kid before. Remember how much that annoys Jean?” Aaron started gently herding him out of the room. “You can do this. Go downstairs and lay down.”
Jeremy took in a shaky breath and nodded jerkily. They slowly made their way down the stairs, Jeremy hesitating on every step like he was scared he would pitch over. At long last, they made it to the living room and Aaron nodded encouragingly for Jeremy to lay back on the side of the couch, kicking his legs up onto the cushions. He looked up helplessly at Aaron, until Aaron gently placed Ollie then Alix on his chest, letting him adjust until all three babies were happily cuddled up against each other. At long last, Jeremy let out a breath like he hadn't been breathing properly for a while.
“Do you need anything else?” Aaron asked quietly.
Jeremy shook his head. “Just don’t leave. I don't trust myself alone with them.”
Aaron nodded and planted himself by Jeremy’s feet. They sat in uncomfortable silence, only broken by the little noises of the triplets settling. He felt the lack of comforting words pushing down on his shoulders; he could easily reassure parents with dying children, but he was floundering with a sort of friend who really was doing the best he could. Many parents were doing a lot worse than Jeremy.
Now that was an idea. He turned to Jeremy suddenly. “Do you beat your kids?”
Jeremy jerked his head in alarm. “What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
“I don’t. Do you expose them to drugs, strange adults, inappropriate media?”
“We would never–”
“Do you feed them? Kiss them good night? Tell them you love them? Help them when they're hurt or sick or scared?”
“Of course we do, Jesus Christ, what kind of questions are these?” He shifted, subtly pressing the babies closer to his chest.
“Congrats, you’re doing better than a lot of parents.”
“I don't want to do the bare minimum, Aaron,” Jeremy started stroking silky baby hairs, though it seemed to soothe him more than the kids. “I want them to feel loved and safe and I want to be good at taking care of them. Like, you fixed them in seconds. I would never have figured that out.”
Aaron rolled his eyes and picked up his leg to sit sideways. “I’m a pediatrician. I work with kids all day, every day. You can't expect to keep up with me. That’s an insane standard.”
“Our house is chaos, we order takeout every other day, and I don't think I’ve showered in a week. It's a disaster.” Jeremy protested, voice growing thick with emotion. “I’m not giving Gigi and Walker the attention they need, I’m being a terrible partner to Jean, I just…” He trailed off and shrugged helplessly.
“First of all,” Aaron held up a finger, “your house is messy, not dirty. That tells me that you have kids who are comfortable playing anywhere in the house. That means they are loved and safe. You order takeout? Who cares as long as everyone eats.”
Jeremy opened his mouth to argue, but Aaron cut him off. “I don't know if you know this, but you went from two to five kids. From man on man to zone defense. You and Jean each constantly have to handle more than one kid at a time, that is exhausting and difficult. You’d have to be inhuman to raise five kids, stay on top of cleaning, cooking, work, and a romantic relationship without a lot of help. Why do you think me and Kevin are here? You get to bond with babies while I clean up a little, Jean gets to bond with the older kids without worrying one will run off and get lost.”
Jeremy’s mouth made a little “O” and he blinked dumbly down at his kids. Their wiggling was slowing down, and Aaron could bet they were about to fall asleep again. He slapped his knees and stood up.
“I’m going to do my best to clean up your kitchen. Rest, relax, enjoy having babies that are little enough to want to cuddle. You don’t have to be perfect to be good.” He patted Jeremy’s shoulder as he walked off in the direction of where he remembered the kitchen being, pleased that it seemed to release tension this time.
Jeremy didn’t protest again, so Aaron spent the next few hours puttering around the house, putting away washing dishes, wiping counters, sweeping floors, and organizing the bric-a-brac that was starting to occupy every free space. It wasn’t horrible, but Aaron could imagine it was overwhelming when five tiny humans were also demanding your attention. Eventually he heard Jeremy starting to talk to the babies, describing the ins and outs of exy and the plot of a book Aaron hadn't read. Around midday, he finished everything that he could reasonably do, throwing a load of laundry in, and returned to the couch.
The babies were happily snoozing on their father's chest, snuffling and grunting in their sleep. Jeremy smiled tiredly when Aaron entered.
“Thank you for doing all this. You didn’t have to.”
Aaron shrugged. “It’s nothing. You’re Kevin’s friends.”
“Aren't we friends too? Love Kevin as I do, this is not his style. I’m assuming coming out here was your idea.”
Jeremy was still smiling and Aaron resisted the urge to brush him off or punch him. Katelyn always told him his urge to care and fix was a good thing, not a weakness. He looked down and scuffed his feet on the floor.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“It really is,” Jeremy insisted. “Jean still doesn’t like asking for help, and I can’t ask Cat and Laila for anything else.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”
Jeremy raised one back. “Kevin didn't tell you?”
He laughed and plopped down on the couch. “Kevin didn't know which of you was the bio dad. One of them was the surrogate?”
Jeremy nodded, gently shushing when Alix started to squirm. “Laila offered way back when we had Walker, but we only took her up on it recently. It’s just such a big ask, I can’t ask for more. Plus, we have money and a house, it could be so much worse.”
“I assume y’all are close,”Aaron started, and Jeremy cut him off with a laugh.
“All that time in Chicago, and you still sound like Palmetto.” He grinned and Aaron scowled. Jeremy shook his head and continued. “It’s nice. It reminds me of how Kevin used to sound after being there for a while.”
Aaron blinked. He hadn't noticed Kevin developing an accent. He also didn't realize how close Kevin was with Jeremy back then. Shaking his head, he carried on.
“Anyway, she offered. Yes, it's a lot of work making three babies, but they're your friends. I’m sure they’d be more offended if you didn't ask for help.”
Jeremy shifted uncomfortably in the way people did when Aaron said something true they didn't want to hear. He leaned back, laughing ironically.
“You know, Kevin once told me I didn't need to hit some threshold of pain for it to be real. You don't need to hit some threshold of struggling to ask for help.” Aaron reached out and put a hand comfortingly on Jeremy’s shin. He wasn't totally sure it was allowed, but Jeremy had asked if they could be friends too. He stared at Jeremy over three little bald heads. “Even if you asked for help before, you can ask again. Call any of your old teammates, call your friends, hell, call Neil and Andrew, they love kids even though they pretend not to. Hire a nanny or an au pair. There’s no prize for suffering in silence.”
The other man blinked back tears and nodded. Aaron nodded back firmly, and looked away as Jeremy pressed kisses to the triplets’ heads. This wasn't his best work, but Kevin and Jean would be home soon; hopefully it would cut through the self-sacrificial routine every single one of Kevin’s loved ones did. Aaron pursed his lips and wondered if he did that too. They lapsed into silence and waited for their partners to return.