Archive of Our Own

The Omega Centre was quieter than Buck remembered, the low murmur of voices softened by the kind of controlled calm that was meant to keep everything level. It helped, or maybe it was just the fact that the worst of it was weeks behind him now, filed away as something he could talk about without feeling it all over again. Sitting there, fully dressed and clear-headed, it was easier to treat it like a discussion rather than something his body had dragged him through. “It was worse,” Buck said, leaning back slightly in the chair, his tone more thoughtful than complaining as he tried to explain it properly. “Not just stronger, it was… longer, I think. And harder to get ahead of. Usually I can tell where I’m at, manage it a bit, but this time it just kept ramping up. Like my body didn’t know when to stop.” The clinician nodded as she pulled up his file, fingers moving across the keyboard before she glanced back at him. “That lines up with what we see after long-term blockers,” she said. “Your system’s basically recalibrating. First heat off them can feel a lot less predictable.”

“I wasn’t sleeping properly,” Buck went on, frowning slightly as he thought back. “Couldn’t settle, couldn’t switch off. Everything felt too much all at once, and none of the usual stuff took the edge off for long. It just reset and came back stronger.” Eddie shifted beside him, one arm resting along the back of Buck’s chair in that easy, familiar way that didn’t draw attention but didn’t leave space either. “He’s not exaggerating,” he said, calm but firm. “I’ve seen him through heats off blockers before. This wasn’t like that. He was more reactive, more restless. It took more to bring him down, and it didn’t last as long when it worked. I’ve never seen him like this even when he was carrying our son.”

The clinician glanced between them, taking that in with a small, understanding nod. “That makes sense,” she said. “Your baseline’s changed over time, so your body’s adjusting back to something it hasn’t done in a while. It can overshoot a bit before it settles.” Buck huffed a quiet breath, something like reluctant acceptance in it. “Yeah, well, it definitely overshot,” he said, then added, a little more matter-of-fact, “we're planning on a second. That’s why I came off the blockers. I just didn’t expect it to hit like that.” “Planning ahead is exactly what we want,” she replied easily. “And this is part of that process, making sure everything’s responding the way it should.” She turned slightly back to the screen, clicking through to the next section before continuing, “So what we’ll do today is run a full post-heat hormone panel, just to confirm everything’s settled, and we’ll include a blood pregnancy test as standard now that you’re off the blockers.”

That made Buck let out a short laugh, immediate and disbelieving as he turned his head towards Eddie. “Seriously? It was one heat. First one off blockers. There’s no way.” Eddie’s expression didn’t shift much, but there was something steady in it, something grounded. “No harm in checking,” he said, easy as anything. The clinician gave a small, almost amused smile at that. “It’s unlikely,” she said, “but not impossible. We check so we know where we’re starting from.” Buck shook his head, still faintly amused as he looked back towards her. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed. “Guess we’ll rule out the impossible.” “Exactly,” she said, already moving the appointment along. “If you want to follow me, we’ll get your bloods done now and then I’ll have those results back shortly.”

It didn’t feel like anything more than that, just part of the process now that they’d made the decision to try for another. The heat was over, his body had settled, and everything else had slipped back into place without much disruption. Chris had school, Eddie had shifts, Buck had work and case notes waiting for him, and the rhythm of it all felt steady in a way it hadn’t years ago.

This was just a check-up, something routine to close the loop on it before they moved forward, and Buck followed her out without a second thought, still more amused than anything by the idea that the test might come back as anything other than exactly what he expected. The clinical room they were led into was smaller and more functional, with a reclining chair set beside a trolley already laid out with everything needed. Buck sat without much thought, rolling his sleeve up automatically while the clinician snapped on gloves and prepped the tray, her movements efficient in a way that made it clear this was routine. When she asked, “Left or right?” he shifted his arm into place and said, “Left’s easier, veins behave better,” which earned a brief, approving hum as she tied the tourniquet and pressed lightly to the inside of his elbow before adding, “Nice and cooperative, we like that,” as she reached for the needle.

Eddie stayed where he was, close but out of the way, watching with that quiet attentiveness he carried into any clinical space. He didn’t hover and didn’t interfere, just stayed present, which was more than enough. Buck didn’t need the reassurance, hadn’t for years, but he was aware of him anyway as the needle slid in cleanly and the first vial filled, then the second, his focus settling on the process more out of habit than concern. When the clinician withdrew the needle and pressed gauze to the site, she said, “Hold that for me,” and Buck did, flexing his fingers once before relaxing again. “So how long do results usually take?” Buck asked, watching as she labelled the vials with quick, precise movements. “For the panel, a little longer,” she replied, sealing one vial before moving to the next, “but the pregnancy test won’t take long. I’ll run that now and come find you once it’s processed,” and Buck nodded, already half moving on as he said, “We’ll be in the waiting area,” the whole thing still sitting comfortably in the category of routine.

They settled back into the quieter reception space, Buck stretching his legs out slightly as he rolled his shoulders once, like he was shaking off the appointment entirely. “You’ve got that shift later, right?” he asked, glancing sideways at Eddie. “Or did you swap it?” Eddie leaned back slightly in his chair and said, “Still on, just not for a few hours,” and Buck hummed in acknowledgement, already lining up the rest of his own day as he added, “I’ve got case notes to finish, and I need to call,” letting the thought trail off as he settled again.

They hadn’t been sitting long before the clinician reappeared, her gaze scanning the waiting area until it landed on them, and when she called, “Evan?” Buck frowned slightly at the formality as he pushed himself to his feet, Eddie following without hesitation. There was nothing openly urgent in her expression, but there was a focus there that hadn’t been present before, something subtle enough that it only registered as a shift once he was already following her back into the room.

She gestured for him to sit again, turning back to the screen as she pulled up the result, then looked at him and said, “Your pregnancy test has come back positive,” in the same even tone she’d used throughout the appointment. Buck just stared at her for a second, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh as he shook his head and said, “No, it hasn’t. That’s not possible. It was one heat, first one off blockers, there’s no way,” the words coming quickly, instinctively, like saying them would make them true. The clinician didn’t react, just met his gaze steadily and said, “It has. Given the timing, you’d be approximately four weeks along. We’ll confirm with your hormone levels once the rest of your bloods are processed, but this result is clear.” Buck stayed looking at her for another second, like he was waiting for it to make sense, before his gaze shifted sideways to Eddie. “You hearing this?” he asked, quieter now, the disbelief still there but no longer easy or amused, and for the first time since they’d walked in, it didn’t feel like a joke anymore.

For a moment, Buck just looked at Eddie, like he was waiting for him to say something that would make it make sense, or laugh it off, or point out whatever obvious mistake had been missed, but Eddie didn’t do any of that, he just held his gaze, steady and focused in a way that felt different to a second ago, like something in him had already shifted to meet the situation head-on even if Buck hadn’t caught up yet. Buck turned back to the clinician after a second, the question coming out quieter this time, less certain as he asked, “You’re sure? There’s no chance it’s, I don’t know, a false positive or something?” and she met his gaze evenly as she told him, “It’s a blood test, they’re very accurate. We’ll confirm everything with your full panel, but this result is reliable,” her tone calm and matter-of-fact in a way that didn’t leave much room for doubt. Buck let out a slow breath at that, one hand coming up to scrub briefly over the back of his neck as he tried to process it, the numbers not quite settling properly in his head as he worked through them: four weeks, one heat. He shook his head faintly, more to himself than anything, and said, “That’s…” before trailing off because there wasn’t a word that actually fit, unexpected not quite covering it, impossible already proven wrong. Eddie shifted closer at that, not enough to crowd him but enough that Buck could feel him there properly now, solid and grounding, and when he said, “Hey, we talked about this. Not the timing, maybe, but the rest of it. We’re okay,” it cut through some of the noise in Buck’s head just enough to make him focus again.

“Yeah, I know,” Buck replied, the words coming a little uneven as he glanced back at him. “I just didn’t think it’d be this quick.” Eddie gave a small, almost wry acknowledgement of that, his expression staying steady as he said, “That part’s new, doesn’t change anything else.” The reassurance landed more easily now that Buck had stopped fighting the result itself, the steadiness in Eddie’s response doing more to settle him than anything else had so far.

The clinician let that moment sit just long enough before stepping back in, keeping her tone practical as she said, “We’ll have your hormone levels through shortly, which will give us a clearer baseline, and from there we can refer you on and get everything set up for your antenatal care,” and Buck nodded automatically, more to anchor himself than anything else as he echoed, “Right, okay. Next steps.” “That’s it,” she confirmed, adding that there was no indication of any issues at this stage, that it was early but everything they were seeing was consistent with a normal early pregnancy, and the word normal landed a little strangely in Buck’s chest, not wrong, just unfamiliar in this context. He let out another breath, slower this time, glancing sideways at Eddie again, something quieter settling into his expression now as he said, “Guess we’re doing this, then,” the words lighter than he felt but closer to the truth than anything else he’d said so far, and Eddie’s answer came without hesitation, a simple, steady, “Yeah, we are,” that grounded it in a way nothing else quite had.

It didn’t hit all at once, didn’t flip into something overwhelming or unmanageable, just shifted gradually into place, the disbelief giving way to something more solid as the reality of it settled in around them. Four weeks, one heat, and somehow it had worked, and instead of everything spiralling the way it once might have, it felt contained, manageable, like something they could actually step into without it pulling everything else apart.

By the time they stepped out of the Omega Centre, the air felt cooler than Buck expected, sharp enough to pull him fully back into himself as the door closed behind them, and he paused on the pavement instead of heading straight for the car, one hand pushing back through his hair as he let out a slow breath like he was trying to line his thoughts up into something that made sense. “Okay,” he muttered, more to himself than anything else, before glancing sideways at Eddie and adding, “So that happened,” the understatement sitting somewhere between disbelief and reluctant acceptance, and Eddie stayed close without crowding him, just there in that steady way that had become second nature, watching him for a second longer than usual as Buck shifted his weight again and dragged a hand through his hair a second time. “You’re a lot more frazzled about it than you were last time,” Eddie said, not unkindly, just observant, which had Buck turning to look at him with a faint frown before Eddie continued, “You don’t remember? I had to tell you to take a test with Chris. Your scent changed and you didn’t even notice.”

That made Buck blink, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly as the memory settled into place, and he let out a quiet breath that bordered on a laugh as he said, “That’s because I didn’t think it was even an option back then, how am I supposed to know my blocker wasn’t working for me,” glancing away briefly before adding, “and you didn’t exactly ease me into that conversation either,” the edge of it softening as something more familiar took hold, and Eddie gave a small huff at that, not disagreeing as he replied, “You weren’t exactly subtle either, and you still didn’t believe me,” which pulled a more genuine, if quieter, laugh out of Buck as he shook his head and said, “Yeah, well, I didn’t believe this one either,” the disbelief still there but no longer as sharp, more something he was adjusting around than pushing back against. Eddie’s expression settled back into something steadier then, the faint humour fading into something more grounded as he said, “Difference is, we actually planned this one,” and Buck exhaled slowly at that, nodding once as it landed properly before admitting, “Yeah, I just thought it’d take more than one go,” his tone quieter now, more thoughtful than resistant, and Eddie didn’t waver as he told him, “We were always going to get here. This is just earlier than we expected,” which earned a soft breath of agreement from Buck as he rolled his shoulders slightly, letting the thought settle into place and shift from something abstract into something real enough to act on.

After a moment Buck said, “Chris,” the single word carrying more weight than anything else he’d said so far, and Eddie immediately followed it up with, “We tell him first, same way we planned, nothing changes there,” which Buck nodded along to, the familiarity of it helping everything else fall into line as he added, “Right, we tell him, then I’ll need to sort work, figure out what that’s going to look like,” and Eddie simply told him, “We’ll sort it,” calm and certain in a way that didn’t leave much room for doubt, and Buck found himself believing it without needing anything more than that. They stood there for another second, the reality of it settling properly, not overwhelming or chaotic, just present in a way that felt different but not destabilising, and Buck let out one more slow breath before giving a small, almost disbelieving shake of his head as he said, “Guess we’re having another kid,” the words sounding strange but not wrong, and when Eddie answered, “Yeah, we are,” steady as ever, it stopped feeling like something that had happened to them and started feeling like something they were already stepping into.

By the time they pulled up outside the school, the day had settled into something that felt almost deceptively normal, the kind of routine that didn’t leave much room for the fact that anything had changed at all. Kids spilled out through the gates in clusters, voices overlapping, bags slung over shoulders, and Buck rested his hands loosely on the wheel as he watched for Chris in the crowd, aware of Eddie beside him doing the same without needing to look. When Eddie murmured, “There,” Buck followed his line of sight and caught sight of Chris mid-conversation with a couple of friends, looking exactly the same as he had that morning, which for a second made everything else feel oddly disconnected. Chris broke off with a quick wave and jogged over, pulling open the back door and sliding in as he said, “Hey, you’re early,” dropping his bag beside him while Buck replied, “Managed to get away sooner,” glancing at him in the mirror before adding, “How was school?” which earned a casual “Fine,” the kind that didn’t invite much follow-up.

The drive home passed in that same easy rhythm, small bits of conversation filling the space without needing much thought, and when they pulled up outside the house Chris was already halfway out of the car, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. He made it two steps inside before Buck’s voice followed him, “Shoes off and bag away, Chris,” automatic and familiar, and Chris groaned under his breath but still kicked his shoes off properly this time, nudging them into place and dragging his bag through to where it belonged before calling, “Yeah, yeah,” like he hadn’t been told the same thing every day for years. He drifted into the kitchen a moment later, already asking what there was to eat while Buck moved automatically to pull something together, Eddie settling back against the counter, watching the two of them with quiet attention. It wasn’t until Chris had settled at the table and taken a few bites that he looked up properly, his gaze flicking between them with a slight frown as he said, “What?” not alarmed but perceptive enough to know something was different, and Buck exchanged a brief glance with Eddie before saying, “Nothing’s wrong, we just want to talk to you about something,” which had Chris straightening slightly, setting his fork down as he said, “Okay,” more cautious now.

Buck leaned back against the counter, keeping it simple. “You remember how we talked about maybe having another baby?” Chris’s expression shifted as recognition settled in and he said, “Yeah,” slower this time, and Buck nodded once before continuing, “Well, it’s not a maybe anymore, you’re going to be a big brother,” the words landing softer than he expected. Chris didn’t react straight away, just looked between them like he was checking it was real, then said, “Oh,” quietly, his expression turning thoughtful rather than immediately excited, and Buck felt that hesitation even before it had fully formed. Eddie stepped in without rushing it, his tone calm but more deliberate. “Christopher Edmundo Diaz, nothing about this changes how much we love you, you understand that, right?” Chris’s head lifted at the use of his full name, attention locking in as he held Eddie’s gaze for a second before nodding, “Yeah,” more certain now, and Eddie softened slightly as he added that he was still their kid first and that wasn’t going anywhere, which eased something in Chris’s shoulders, the tension settling out of him as Buck followed it up with, “And you’re going to be a really good big brother,” prompting Chris to glance back with a small, tentative, “Really?” that Buck answered with a steady, “Really,” and this time when Chris nodded, it came with a little more confidence, the uncertainty giving way to something closer to excitement as the idea started to take shape.

The shift wasn’t immediate, but it was there, small and gradual, the way Chris picked his fork back up without actually eating, his attention still fixed on them as he worked through it in his head, and after a moment he asked, “So… how big is it?” the question practical enough that it pulled a faint twitch of amusement from Buck, who pushed himself upright and glanced briefly towards the counter before saying, “Hang on,” as he stepped over to where Chris’s school bag had been left earlier, unzipping it and pulling out a folder with a familiarity that suggested he’d seen it before. He flicked through a couple of pages until he found what he was looking for, then came back over and set it down on the table, turning it slightly so Chris could see as he said, “You remember this? Your RHSE stuff,” tapping lightly against the page before continuing, “it’s about this size right now,” indicating one of the early diagrams, something small enough that Chris had to lean closer to really look at it. Chris blinked at that, leaning forward properly now, his earlier hesitation giving way to focused curiosity as he said, “That tiny?” and Buck nodded, a little more relaxed now that he had something concrete to show him as he added, “Yeah, we wouldn’t have even known yet if they hadn’t done the blood test, it’s that early,” tracing along the page slightly as he went on, “it’s basically just at the start of everything, so there’s not much to see yet,” and Chris nodded slowly, taking that in. His gaze shifted back up after a second, settling properly on Buck as he asked, “And you’re okay?” more serious now, and Buck didn’t hesitate as he answered, “Yeah, I’m okay,” the certainty in it easy, then added a little more honestly, “I might get more tired later on, and there’s other stuff that changes as it goes on, but right now I’m fine,” which Chris seemed to accept, his shoulders loosening slightly at that.

“When do you find out more?” he asked next, already tracking ahead, and Buck glanced down at the page again before answering, “So, this bit here,” tapping further along the timeline, “that’s when we start getting proper scans, a few weeks from now, and then later on that’s when we find out if it’s a boy or a girl,” his finger moving again as he explained, “and after that it’s more about checking everything’s growing the way it should,” and Chris followed it all closely, nodding as each piece slotted into place. “Can I come?” he asked after a moment, looking up again, and Buck smiled slightly at that, answering, “We’ll see which ones you can come to, yeah, but if not I can see if any private places allow kids in,” and that seemed to land well enough that Chris nodded again, already more settled than he had been a few minutes ago. “Can I help?” came next, a little quicker, like he’d been holding onto it, and Buck didn’t hesitate as he answered, “Yeah, you can help,” the certainty in it immediate, adding, “there’s loads you can do, we’ll figure it out as we go,” and that was what finally tipped Chris fully over into it, the uncertainty giving way to something brighter as a small, genuine smile formed. “Okay,” he said, more definite now, and this time when he went back to his food, it was with the kind of focus that meant he’d already started to make space for it properly, not as something that might change everything, but as something that was just going to become part of it. The shift carried through the rest of the evening in small ways, the kind that were easy to miss if you weren’t looking for them, but once Buck noticed it, he couldn’t not see it, the way Chris kept glancing back at the folder even after Buck had moved it aside, the way his questions didn’t stop so much as change direction. He finished eating, but not with the same distracted hesitation as before, and as he pushed his plate back slightly, his gaze flicked up again with something more settled behind it as he asked, “So when does it get bigger?” leaning forward just enough that it was clear he was already picturing it, already trying to track the changes ahead.

Buck let out a quiet breath that edged into a smile, reaching over to pull the folder back towards them and flipping it open again as he said, “Pretty much straight away, just slowly at first,” his finger tracing along the timeline as he added, “it doesn’t look like much for a while, but it’s still growing, it just takes time before you can actually see it properly,” and Chris nodded, following along again, more confident this time, like he trusted what he was looking at now. “So it’s like… this, then this, then this?” he asked, tapping lightly along the stages, and Buck nodded, answering, “Yeah, exactly like that,” watching as Chris sat back slightly, clearly satisfied with that explanation before his attention shifted again, moving from the page to Buck with something a little more thoughtful behind it. “Does it have a name yet?” he asked, and Buck huffed a soft laugh at that, shaking his head slightly as he said, “Not yet, we’ve got time for that,” glancing briefly at Eddie before adding, “we’ll figure that out later,” and Chris seemed to accept that easily enough, though the question lingered in the way he nodded, like it had already become something he was thinking about.

There was a pause after that, shorter this time, before Chris asked, “Can I tell people?” the words coming a little more carefully, like he knew it might not be entirely up to him, and Buck exchanged a brief glance with Eddie before answering, “Not yet,” keeping his tone gentle as he added, “we’ll tell people properly a bit later, then you can,” and Chris made a small sound of understanding, not pushing it, just adjusting around it. “Okay,” he said, and this time there was no hesitation in it at all, just quiet acceptance, the kind that came from already having settled into the idea, and when he reached for his plate again, it was with the kind of ease that meant it had already stopped being something uncertain and started becoming something normal.

Eddie watched him for a second from where he was leaning against the counter, something softer in his expression now, before his gaze shifted to Buck, the look brief but enough to carry everything that didn’t need to be said out loud. They were fine, Eddie knew that much, and Chris was more than fine, the quiet certainty settling properly now that he could see it in the way his son moved through the room, comfortable and secure in a way that told him everything he needed to know.

The conversation didn’t so much end as taper off, Chris’s attention drifting back to the folder still open on the table as Buck moved to close it, only to pause when he caught sight of a page tucked further back, half-completed and marked out more like a task than something they’d already gone through together. He flipped it open properly, scanning it for a second before huffing a quiet breath that carried more familiarity than surprise. “You’ve got homework in here,” he said, turning it slightly so Chris could see, tapping the corner of the page, “this is due, isn’t it?” and Chris leaned over immediately, expression shifting into something much more typical as he said, “I was going to do it,” which earned him a look before Buck added, “You’re going to do it now,” pushing the folder back towards him. Chris groaned under his breath but didn’t argue properly, dragging the folder closer and reaching for a pen as he muttered, “It’s boring,” though the way he kept glancing back at the earlier pages made it clear his attention hadn’t entirely left the conversation behind. After a moment he tapped lightly at the diagram Buck had shown him earlier and asked, “Can I use this bit?” and Buck nodded, saying, “Yeah, you can use it, it’s the same topic anyway,” which seemed to settle that enough for Chris to actually start writing.

Eddie pushed himself off the counter then, the shift subtle but familiar as he moved from where he’d been watching into something more purposeful, heading through to grab what he needed for his shift as he said, “I’m going to get ready,” and Buck glanced over briefly, answering, “Yeah,” without much thought, already used to the rhythm of it. Chris, however, looked up immediately, his pen pausing mid-word as he said, “Wait, you’re going to work?” the question carrying just enough surprise to pull Eddie’s attention back to him. “Yeah,” Eddie said, steady as ever, not making it bigger than it needed to be. “I’ve got a shift,” and Chris frowned slightly at that, clearly trying to reconcile it with everything they’d just been told as he added, “But… we just found out,” like that should change something. Eddie stepped back into the kitchen properly then, closing the space a little without making it a big moment, and said, “And everything’s okay,” simple and certain, “so I go to work,” and Chris watched him for a second longer before nodding slowly, the logic of it landing even if it still felt a bit strange. “Right,” he said, glancing briefly towards Buck like he was checking that matched, and Buck gave a small nod of confirmation as he said, “Nothing’s changed that way,” which seemed to settle it enough for Chris to look back down at his work, though there was still a trace of thoughtfulness in the way he moved.

The house slipped back into its usual rhythm after that, Chris working through his homework with the occasional quiet complaint slipping out under his breath, Eddie moving through the familiar motions of getting ready for work, and Buck in the middle of it, watching both of them for a second longer than usual. After a minute Chris looked up again, pen still in his hand as he said, “It’s weird,” not uncertain this time, just thoughtful, and when Buck tipped his head slightly, he added, “but it’s good weird,” before dropping his gaze back down like that was enough of an explanation. Buck let out a quiet breath at that, something softer settling in his chest as he said, “Yeah,” more to himself than anything else, and in the background Eddie reappeared, already halfway through his routine, the normalcy of it grounding everything else in a way that made the whole day feel less like something that had shifted everything and more like something that had simply been added to it.

The house had slipped back into its usual rhythm around them, but the difference was there now, settled quietly into everything they were doing without disrupting any of it. And just like that, it wasn’t just news anymore. It was part of the day.

By the time they reached the ten-week booking appointment, the difference between knowing he was pregnant and actually being pregnant had stopped feeling abstract and settled into something Buck couldn’t ignore even if he tried, his body having made that decision for him somewhere around week six and refusing to let up since. The room was smaller than the Omega Centre, softer somehow, desk already set up, computer open, and Buck shifted as he sat, one hand resting low on his stomach without thinking about it, not enough to be obvious but enough that Eddie caught it straight away. “You’re doing it again,” Eddie murmured under his breath, just for him, and Buck glanced down before huffing quietly. “It’s not even a bump yet,” he muttered, though it wasn’t entirely true, the bloating that had started early having never really gone away, just settled into something more constant, something that made his clothes sit differently and had already pushed him into looser shirts.

The door opened and the midwife stepped in with a small, professional smile, settling into her chair as she logged in. “Hi, I’m Sarah, I’ll be your midwife,” she said, glancing between them, and Buck straightened slightly as he replied, “Buck,” then added with a small tilt of his head, “and this is Eddie,” while she nodded and said, “Nice to meet you both,” her hands already moving across the keyboard. “Right, I’ve got you down as ten weeks today, is that correct?” and Buck nodded, answering, “Yeah, ten weeks,” then added, “Feels longer,” which earned a brief, knowing smile before she continued, “It usually does at this stage, especially with how symptoms can ramp up early on.”

She clicked through a few screens before looking back up at him. “So tell me how you’ve been feeling,” she said, and Buck let out a tired breath that edged into a laugh. “Rough,” he admitted, not dressing it up, “worse than with Chris,” and she nodded slightly, encouraging him without interrupting as he continued, “It’s not just nausea, it’s actual morning sickness, like properly, I’ve been throwing up most mornings and sometimes later if something sets it off, and I’m exhausted all the time, like I don’t want to get out of bed levels of tired,” pausing briefly before adding, “and heartburn, which I didn’t get this early last time, and I’m already…” he gestured vaguely towards his stomach, not quite finishing the sentence but not needing to. “That early bloating can feel like a bump,” Sarah said, picking up on it immediately, “especially in a second pregnancy, your body recognises what it’s doing and adjusts quicker,” and Buck nodded, though it didn’t quite line up with how constant it felt. Eddie shifted slightly beside him at that, adding, “His scent changed earlier this time as well,” low but certain, and Buck glanced at him before nodding. “Yeah, with Chris I didn’t even notice, you had to tell me,” he said, then added, “this time it was obvious, like everything shifted at once.”

“That’s really common with Omega pregnancies,” Sarah replied, typing as she spoke, “your hormonal changes can be more pronounced, and partners often pick up on that before you do,” then she glanced back up. “Any changes in behaviour? Nesting, wanting to stay in more, anything like that?” and Buck huffed a quiet breath at that, almost amused. “Yeah, actually,” he admitted, “not full nesting, not like later on, but I don’t really want to go out unless I have to, I just want to stay home, and I keep ending up around my son without thinking about it, like I just want him close,” the words a little quieter but honest. “That’s all very typical,” she said easily, nodding once, “early instinctive behaviours, especially with an established bond already in the home,” before moving on smoothly, clicking through to the next section. “We’ll get you booked in for your twelve-week scan, that’s your first proper look at the baby, measurements, development, everything we’d expect to see at that stage,” and Buck leaned forward slightly at that, asking, “That’s when we’ll actually see something properly, right?” wanting the confirmation, and she nodded. “Yes, you’ll see a clear image, we’ll check growth, dating, and general development,” which Buck absorbed with a small nod before asking, “And now? Size-wise?” already linking it back to what he’d shown Chris. “Right now it’s still very small,” she said, giving a rough comparison, “but growing quickly,” and Buck glanced down at his stomach again before letting out a quiet breath. “Feels bigger than that,” he admitted, almost to himself, and she gave a small, understanding smile. “That sensation is very normal, even if the physical size doesn’t quite match yet,” she said, “your body’s doing a lot of internal work.” The appointment carried on like that, steady and structured, Sarah moving through medical history, background, and next steps while Buck answered easily, the difference between this and his first pregnancy sitting quietly in the background. There was no uncertainty this time, no paperwork hanging over them, no question of where they’d end up, just a process they were stepping through together.

By the time they stood to leave, Buck felt it again, that constant awareness low in his stomach, not painful, just there, and as they stepped out into the corridor he let out a slow breath and said, “This is definitely worse than Chris,” the words tired but not unhappy, more observation than complaint. Eddie glanced at him, something steadier in his expression as he said, ‘You’ve got more going on this time,’ and Buck nodded once, a faint flicker of agreement passing over his face. “Yeah,” he admitted, adjusting slightly where he stood before adding, “Last time it was just… work and figuring everything out,” the memory sitting differently now, less sharp, more distant, “this time it’s work, Chris, all of it,” and Eddie gave a small nod, not disagreeing, just grounding it. “We’ve got it though,” he said, simple and certain, and Buck glanced at him briefly before nodding again, the weight of it settling into something more manageable as they started moving down the corridor. It wasn’t easier, just… different in a way that made it feel like something they already knew how to carry.

By the time they were called in for the twelve-week scan, Buck was already feeling it in a way that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with how relentlessly his body had been reminding him of the pregnancy for the last few weeks. The nausea still hadn’t properly eased, sitting low and constant even when it wasn’t actively making him miserable, and the early appointment hadn’t helped, the hollow, unsettled feeling lingering as he pushed himself up and followed the sonographer down the corridor. Eddie stayed close beside him, their arms brushing occasionally, and when he asked quietly, “You good?” Buck nodded, even if it came with a tired, “Yeah, just feel a bit rough,” because that had become the default answer lately.

The room was dimmer than the others had been, the screen angled away for now, and Buck settled onto the bed when he was told to, pushing his shirt up with an absent motion while the sonographer talked them through what she was going to do, her voice calm and routine as she said, “You’ll feel some cold gel, then I’ll take a look,” and Buck nodded, glancing briefly at Eddie before leaning his head back as the gel hit his skin, sharp enough to make him suck in a small breath. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got,” she said, turning her attention to the screen as she moved the probe into place, and for a moment it was just shifting shapes, nothing clear, Buck’s focus flicking between the ceiling and Eddie and then back again like he didn’t quite know where to settle. Then the image adjusted, something more defined coming into view, and the sonographer shifted her hand slightly before saying, “There we go,” and Buck stilled completely, his breath catching as he focused in. It was small, but unmistakable, movement visible in a way that made his chest tighten without warning, his hand settling instinctively against his stomach as he said, “That’s…” not finishing it, because he didn’t need to, his voice already unsteady enough to carry it.

“That’s your baby,” the sonographer confirmed, angling the screen slightly more towards them, and Buck let out a slow breath, blinking once as he tried to take it in properly before saying, “We didn’t really get this with Chris, not like this, not this early, we were too busy worrying about my visa, whether I was even going to be able to stay, it didn’t feel real properly until sixteen weeks,” the words coming quieter as he went, more reflective than anything else, and Eddie stayed close as he answered, “We were figuring everything out,” steady and grounding, which had Buck nodding once before adding, “Yeah, this feels different,” softer now, something more open in it. “There’s a strong heartbeat,” the sonographer added as she continued working, adjusting the probe slightly, and Buck let out a small breath at that, something in him loosening immediately as he asked, “Can we hear it?” the question coming out without thought, and she nodded, pressing a button before the sound filled the room, fast and steady, and Buck swallowed hard, his fingers curling slightly against the edge of the bed as he let out a quiet, “Okay,” more feeling than word.

“That’s exactly what we want to hear,” she said, still focused as she continued taking measurements, moving the probe slightly before pausing and adjusting again as she added, “Just bear with me a moment,” her tone unchanged, and Buck followed the movement on the screen as she checked from another angle, listening as she said, “I’m just going to get another angle,” still casual, still routine, and then, after a second, “Measuring slightly ahead, nothing concerning, just something we’ll note,” which drew a soft huff of humour from Eddie as he said, “Might just be because of us,” the comment easy and familiar, and when the sonographer replied, “Both over six foot, I’m guessing,” Buck gave a small nod, that explanation settling easily enough even as his attention stayed fixed on the screen. By the time she finished, printing off a couple of images and handing them over, Buck felt quieter in a way he hadn’t expected, like everything had settled into place all at once, and he took them carefully, glancing down before looking back up again, something softer in his expression as he let out a slow breath and said, “Okay… okay,” under it, like repeating it made it more real, while Eddie glanced at him and answered, “Yeah,” steady and certain, the word sitting between them in a way that didn’t need anything else added to it.

By the time they stepped out of the hospital, Buck could still feel the echo of the scan sitting somewhere in his chest, soft and steady, but it didn’t override everything else the way it had in the room, his body already pulling him back into something heavier, something more immediate. The nausea lingered low and constant, the exhaustion sharper now that he wasn’t running on adrenaline anymore, and he drifted closer to Eddie without really thinking about it, shoulder brushing his arm as he let out a quiet, tired, “Alpha…” the word softer than usual, more instinct than thought, which had Eddie’s attention shifting immediately as he answered, “Yeah, I’ve got you,” easy and certain, and Buck nodded faintly even if it didn’t fully settle the restless edge under his skin as he added, “I don’t feel good,” more openly than he normally would, his voice dipping into something closer to a whine as he continued, “I’m tired, and I still feel sick,” like saying it out loud might fix it even though it wouldn’t. “Let’s get you home,” Eddie said, already adjusting his pace slightly, and Buck followed without argument, staying close enough that their arms kept brushing, the contact grounding in a way he wasn’t even trying to hide anymore.

The drive passed in a quieter rhythm, Buck leaning slightly towards Eddie even with the centre console between them, one hand resting low on his stomach while the other curled loosely against his own side, his eyes slipping shut for a moment before opening again as they pulled up outside the house, and getting out felt like effort, more than it should have, leaving him lingering near the door once they were inside while Eddie reached for his keys again and said, “I’ll go get Chris,” automatic, part of the routine, which had Buck’s head coming up immediately, the response quick and instinctive as he said, “No,” sharper than before, then softer as he stepped closer, “Alpha, don’t go,” the words quieter but more insistent, the need sitting too close to ignore.

Eddie stilled, turning back fully as he asked, “You don’t want me to go?” not pushing, just checking, and Buck shook his head, already closing the space between them without thinking as he admitted, “I don’t want to be here without you,” voice low, a little rough around the edges as he added, “I don’t like it,” the honesty of it sitting plainly between them, no attempt to soften it, and after a second Eddie nodded, easy as that, shifting direction as he said, “Alright, you’re coming with me then,” which had Buck letting out a small breath, something easing immediately as he answered, “Yeah,” softer now, already calmer just knowing he wasn’t being left behind.

The second drive was shorter, familiar, but Buck stayed closer even then, leaning slightly into Eddie’s space when he could, the instinct still humming quietly under everything else, and by the time they pulled up outside the school the noise felt sharper than usual, leaving Buck hovering close as Chris spotted them and jogged over, sliding into the back seat with an easy, “Hey,” before pausing, his gaze flicking between them as he added, “You look tired,” which pulled a soft huff from Buck as he glanced back and said, “Feel it, pup,” the word slipping out easily, natural in a way that made Chris’s expression soften rather than question it.

They made it home without much more than that, and once inside Buck didn’t move far, staying close to Eddie until Chris had dropped his bag and started his usual routine. It took a second before Buck remembered the envelope, reaching for it and pulling out one of the scan images before holding it out as he said, “This is yours,” his voice softer now, still carrying that same underlying pull. Chris stepped closer, taking it carefully as his expression shifted, and he asked, “That’s the baby?” quieter, more focused, and Buck nodded, drifting a fraction closer without thinking as he said, “Yeah, that’s from today.” Chris turned it slightly, trying to make sense of it before saying, “It’s bigger than the drawing,” linking it back, which earned a faint breath of a laugh from Buck as he replied, “Yeah, it’s grown a bit.” When Chris asked, “Can I keep it?” Buck nodded straight away, answering, “Yeah, pup, it’s yours,” easy and certain, which seemed to settle something in Chris as he held it more carefully.

Buck watched him for a second longer than he meant to, something soft settling in his chest, before the exhaustion pushed back in properly, heavier now, harder to ignore, and he shifted slightly until his shoulder brushed Eddie again, the contact immediate and grounding as he let out a quiet, “Alpha…” not even finishing the thought this time. Eddie glanced down at him, taking in everything he didn’t say as he replied, “Sit down,” calm but firm, and Buck didn’t argue, just nodded slightly and said, “Don’t go far,” softer now, almost automatic, already moving towards the sofa before he’d fully finished the words. It wasn’t dramatic, just instinct taking the lead, and Buck not fighting it the way he usually does.

By the time they were back in for the sixteen-week appointment, Buck had stopped expecting things to ease just because they were supposed to, the promise of the second trimester being easier not quite lining up with what he was actually experiencing, the nausea no longer constant but still present enough to catch him off guard if he went too long without eating and the exhaustion settling into his bones in a way that made even quieter days feel heavier than they should. He shifted slightly in his seat as they waited, leaning just a little closer to Eddie without thinking, his shoulder brushing his arm as he let out a quiet breath, and when Eddie murmured, “You’re quiet,” low enough that it didn’t carry, Buck huffed softly and answered, “Just tired,” which wasn’t untrue, even if it wasn’t the whole of it.

When they were called in, Sarah greeted them with the same easy familiarity as before, settling into her chair as she pulled up his notes and saying, “Sixteen weeks today?” which Buck confirmed with a nod and a quiet, “Yeah, sixteen,” adding, “Feels longer.” That earned a small, curious tilt of her head as she asked, “Why’s that?” and Buck let out a short breath at that, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh as he said, “Because it’s not easing the way it’s meant to,” shifting slightly before continuing, “I’m still getting sick sometimes, not every day now, but enough, and I’m still exhausted most of the time, it just feels like it’s dragging out,” the words coming a little more openly now that he’d started.

Sarah nodded as she listened, fingers moving lightly across the keyboard as she said, “That can happen, every pregnancy’s different, even second ones, and Omega pregnancies can carry stronger symptoms a bit further along,” which Buck accepted with a small exhale even if it didn’t fully match how it felt. He added more quietly, “I just thought it would ease more by now,” earning another steady nod as she replied, “It likely still will, but not always all at once, sometimes it tapers rather than stops,” before asking, “How’s your appetite been?” which drew a soft huff from Buck as he glanced briefly towards Eddie and answered, “All over the place, either I don’t want anything or I want everything, there’s not really an in-between.” Eddie added quietly, “He’s still more tired than last time,” and Sarah acknowledged that with a small nod as she said, “That’s useful to know,” her tone neutral, not concerned.

There was a brief pause after that, Buck shifting slightly in his seat before he asked, a little more hesitant than before, “Can we… listen?” not quite finishing the sentence but not needing to. Sarah looked up properly at that before nodding easily and saying, “Of course we can,” already reaching for the Doppler as she added, “At sixteen weeks we should be able to pick it up.” Buck let out a small breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding as he leaned back enough to give her access, the cool gel familiar now as the soft static filled the space for a moment before she adjusted slightly and said, “There we go,” the heartbeat following, fast and steady, and Buck’s shoulders dropped immediately as he let out a quiet, “Okay,” the word more relief than anything else.

“That’s exactly what we want to hear,” Sarah said, letting it run for a moment before switching it off again, and Buck nodded faintly, the reassurance settling a little more solidly this time as she continued, “Everything sounds good, and we’ll see you again at your twenty-week scan, that’s your anatomy scan where we take a more detailed look at development,” which Buck followed with a small nod before hesitating slightly and asking, “So nothing to worry about?” wanting it confirmed properly, and she answered without hesitation, “No, everything you’ve described fits within normal variation, especially with a second pregnancy, so we’ll just keep monitoring as we go,” which drew a small breath from Buck as he nodded once, the reassurance landing even if it didn’t completely quiet the feeling that this was still more than he’d expected. By the time they stood to leave, nothing had changed in any obvious way, just been acknowledged and placed somewhere that didn’t require concern, and as they stepped back out into the corridor Buck leaned slightly into Eddie again without thinking, the contact grounding as he muttered under his breath, “Still kicking my ass,” tired but not upset, which earned a quiet huff from Eddie as he replied, “Yeah, but you’re handling it,” steady and certain, and Buck answered with a soft, “Don’t have much choice,” even if there wasn’t much resistance behind it, the pattern continuing in a way he was learning to adjust around rather than expect to change.

By the time they were back in for the twenty-week scan, Buck felt different again, not worse exactly, just further into it, the weight of the pregnancy more constant even when the sharper symptoms eased. He shifted in the waiting area chair for what had to be the fifth time in as many minutes, one hand pressed low against his abdomen in a way that had nothing to do with instinct and everything to do with discomfort. “I shouldn’t have drunk all of that,” he muttered under his breath, the complaint quiet but persistent, and when Eddie glanced at him he added, “I feel like I’m going to burst,” which earned a small huff of amusement before Eddie said, “You were told to,” calm and practical. Buck made a soft, unimpressed sound in response as he leaned slightly into him anyway, adding, “Doesn’t make it better,” the words edging into a faint whine as he shifted again.

When they were called in, the sonographer greeted them with a brief, professional smile, settling them in as Buck moved onto the bed, pushing his shirt up with a practised motion while she said, “This is your anatomy scan, so we’ll be taking a detailed look at baby today, checking growth and development, it will take a little longer than your last scan,” her tone calm and measured as she reached for the gel. Buck nodded, glancing briefly at Eddie before leaning back as the gel hit his skin, still cold enough to draw a small breath from him.

“Alright, let’s start by getting baby in view,” she continued, turning to the screen as the probe moved into place, and for a moment it was just shifting shapes again before the image settled into something clearer, more defined, and Buck stilled without thinking, his breath catching slightly as he focused in. “There we go, that’s baby,” she said, adjusting the angle, and Buck let out a quiet, “Okay…” softer than before, the earlier discomfort already slipping out of focus as his attention locked fully onto the screen. “I’m going to work through everything step by step, we’ll look at the head first, check measurements and development,” she added, moving the probe slightly, and Buck followed closely as she pointed things out, explaining what she was measuring and why, her voice steady and grounding as she worked. “Head measurements are coming up a little ahead, but that was noted at your earlier scan as well, so it’s consistent, not something we’re concerned about,” she said, and Buck let out a small breath at that, nodding faintly as he said, “Okay,” the reassurance settling even as his hand drifted instinctively to rest low against his stomach. “We’ll move to the chest and heart, checking structure and rhythm,” she continued, adjusting the angle again, and Buck’s focus sharpened further, his shoulders easing a fraction when she added, “Heartbeat’s strong,” the words landing immediately as he asked, “That’s what we want, right?” needing to hear it properly, and she confirmed easily, “Exactly what we want,” before continuing on.

“I’ll move down now, check the abdomen and overall growth,” she said, guiding them through it as the image shifted again, and Buck stayed locked in, tracking every movement, every explanation, the rest of the world narrowing to the screen and the quiet, steady sound of her voice. She paused briefly, adjusting the probe again as she said, “I’m just going to get a clearer angle here,” still routine, still calm, and then added, “Growth is measuring slightly ahead overall, but again, that lines up with your earlier scan, so it’s not a concern, just something we continue to note,” which Buck absorbed with another small nod, the pattern making more sense now that it had been explained. She continued through the final checks, methodical and thorough, explaining each step as she went, making sure everything was accounted for before pausing briefly and saying, “I can also check the baby’s sex if you’d like to know,” and Buck’s attention shifted just slightly at that, glancing briefly at Eddie before looking back as he said, “Yeah… we want to know,” his voice quieter now but steady, and she nodded, adjusting the probe once more as she said, “Alright, let me just get the right position,” pausing for a second before adding, “There we go, you’re having a girl.”

For a second, Buck didn’t say anything, the words landing slower than the rest of it had, and then he let out a soft breath that almost passed for a laugh, something lighter breaking through as he said, “A girl,” more to himself than anything else, his hand pressing a little more firmly against his stomach like that might anchor it, and when he glanced at Eddie there was something openly warm in his expression now, something that hadn’t been held back the way it might have been before. By the time she finished, wiping away the gel and printing off the images, Buck felt quieter again, but in a steadier way this time, like everything had settled into place rather than shifting around him, and he took them carefully, glancing down before looking back up as he asked, “Everything okay?” softer now, not anxious, just wanting it confirmed properly, and she nodded as she replied, “Everything looks exactly as it should at this stage,” which drew a small nod from Buck, the reassurance landing fully as he let out a quiet, “Okay,” the word grounded now. As they stepped back out into the corridor, Buck drifted a little closer to Eddie again without thinking, the contact grounding as he held onto the images, his thumb brushing lightly over the edge of them as he said, “A girl,” still sounding like he was getting used to it, not overwhelmed, just full, and Eddie huffed softly beside him as he replied, “Yeah, a girl,” steady and certain, which earned a faint, softer smile from Buck as he glanced down at the images again, everything feeling real in a different way now. Everything was fine, just… more than he remembered.

By the time they got home, the weight of the scan had settled into something quieter, something that didn’t press as sharply but stayed present all the same. Buck still had the envelope in his hand as he moved through the house, his thumb brushing absently over the edge like he hadn’t quite realised he was doing it until he stopped halfway through the room, something clearly clicking into place as he said, “Wait,” more to himself than anything else. He turned towards the hallway without explanation, leaving Eddie watching him for a second before he disappeared and came back with a second, older envelope that had clearly been kept. He sat down with both of them, spreading the contents out carefully, and when Eddie asked, “What are you doing?” Buck didn’t look up straight away, already pulling out one of the older scan photos as he said, “Chris,” like that explained it. He held it up beside the newer one before angling them so Eddie could see, adding, “Same point,” more intent now, his finger hovering near the image until Eddie leaned in properly, actually looking this time, the difference subtle but there, enough that Buck huffed softly as he said, “She’s bigger,” not guessing or joking now, just stating it. When Eddie answered, “They said she was measuring ahead,” steady and grounding, Buck leaned back slightly, though his hand didn’t move far from where it rested low against his stomach as he said, quieter, “Yeah… still feels weird,” not worried, just aware, his attention drifting between the two images before he set Chris’s carefully to one side again.

It went quiet for a moment after that, the shift into something softer happening naturally before Buck said, “We need to pick a name,” more certain this time. Eddie huffed quietly at that as he replied, “We’ve got four,” not disagreeing, just placing it, which had Buck nodding as he said, “Two boys, two girls,” a faint edge of amusement slipping in as he added, “We really thought we were having another boy.” Eddie’s mouth twitched slightly before Buck continued, “Now it’s just Amelia or Delilah,” his tone quieter now, more focused, and when Eddie asked, “Which one are you leaning towards?” Buck didn’t answer straight away, his hand drifting back to his stomach without thinking as he looked down. After a second he admitted, softer, “Amelia… because of your Abuela,” the words deliberate, earning a subtle shift in Eddie’s expression, something warmer settling in, though Buck continued, “But I really like Delilah as well,” a faint, almost sheepish edge to it now. “There’s no reason, I just… do,” he added, which earned a quiet huff from Eddie as he said, “You don’t need a reason,” grounding it without dismissing the other option. Buck went quiet again after that, considering it properly before saying, “Amelia Isabel Diaz,” more to himself than anything else, testing how it sat, then after a second, “Delilah Grace Diaz,” the comparison immediate. He let out a slow breath, leaning back slightly as he added, “They both fit,” though it was clear one sat a little heavier than the other, the decision hovering rather than landing.

A beat passed before Eddie checked the time, the practical rhythm of the afternoon pulling them back into what still needed doing, and he said, “I’ll go get Chris,” easy, routine. Buck nodded faintly, not arguing this time, the earlier instinct to stay close eased enough that he let him go without pushing to follow, the house settling into a quieter space again while he gathered the scans back together, keeping one aside without really thinking about it.

It didn’t take long before the front door opened again, the sound of Eddie and Chris talking carrying through before they stepped inside, Chris still mid-sentence about something from school until he stopped short when he spotted Buck and the envelopes spread out, his attention shifting immediately as he asked, “What’s that?” curiosity clear as he dropped his bag properly and stepped closer, and Buck’s expression softened straight away, something warmer settling in as he held out the scan he’d set aside and said, “This one’s yours,” the words easy but carrying more weight than usual, and Chris took it carefully, his expression shifting as he looked down before asking, quieter now, “That’s the baby?” which Buck confirmed with a small nod as he stepped a little closer, saying, “Yeah, that’s from today,” watching as Chris turned it slightly, trying to make sense of it before Buck added, “And we found out something else,” which had Chris glancing up immediately with a quick, “What?” and Buck huffed a soft breath, something lighter slipping through as he said, “You’re getting a baby sister,” the words landing gently but clearly, leaving Chris blinking for a second before repeating, “A sister?” like he was testing it, and Buck nodded again, his hand settling briefly against his shoulder as he said, “Yeah, a sister,” which seemed to make it click, Chris looking back down at the scan before asking, straightforward as ever, “What’s her name?” and Buck glanced briefly at Eddie before looking back at him, something more certain in his expression now as he said, “We were deciding,” then added after a beat, “but I think it’s Amelia,” the decision landing properly as he said it, and Chris repeated it more slowly, “Amelia,” like he was trying it out, which had Buck nodding, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he added, “Amelia Isabel,” and after a second Chris nodded once and said, “I like it,” simple and certain, which was enough, something in Buck easing properly at that as his hand drifted back to rest low against his stomach again while Eddie huffed softly beside them and said, “Amelia it is,” steady and sure, and this time Buck didn’t hesitate as he nodded, the name settling into place in a way that didn’t feel like choosing anymore, just like saying it out loud had finally made it real.

By the time the third trimester settled in properly, Buck had stopped trying to structure his workday the way he always had and started adjusting it around what his body would actually let him do, which meant slowing in places he normally wouldn’t, taking breaks he wouldn’t have needed before, and accepting changes without the quiet resistance that would have come earlier on. The chair in his office had been the first and most obvious, pulled closer to his desk so he didn’t have to keep shifting between standing and sitting, and now it stayed there, used without comment as he lowered himself into it with a quiet exhale, one hand settling low against his stomach while the other brushed absently over the bracelet at his wrist. “You’re actually using it,” one of the midwives had remarked the first time she’d seen him sit through a consultation instead of pacing lightly as he usually did, and Buck had huffed softly in response, replying, “I’m not fighting with gravity if I don’t have to,” the words dry but not defensive, the shift in behaviour acknowledged without being made into something bigger than it needed to be.

It hadn’t changed how he worked so much as how he delivered it, the focus still there, the attention to detail unchanged, just filtered through a slightly slower pace, a little more stillness than before, and if anything it made him more present in the quieter parts of his job, the conversations that needed time rather than urgency. The bracelet had become part of that without him planning it, something he touched without thinking, a grounding point that occasionally drew attention, and when it did he didn’t brush it off, just explained it in the same steady tone he used for everything else. “It’s for kick counting,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly over it as he continued, “once you learn your baby’s pattern, it’s actually one of the easiest ways to reassure yourself.” He watched as the information settled before adding, “You’re not looking for a number so much as a rhythm, what’s normal for your baby,” and when the inevitable question came, the quiet edge of worry underneath it, he met it without softening the truth. “If that rhythm changes, if they slow down or something feels off, that’s when you get checked, straight away, not later,” he said, the clarity sitting alongside the reassurance in a way that made it easier to accept.

He carried that awareness with him between appointments, not in a way that unsettled him but in a way that sharpened his instincts, and it showed in the way he moved through the clinic, one hand often resting where it felt most natural, the contact grounding rather than distracting, his thumb occasionally tapping lightly against the bracelet without him even noticing he was doing it. When Eddie met him at the end of his shift, leaning briefly against the doorframe before stepping inside, his gaze took in the smaller changes immediately, the chair, the way Buck didn’t rush to stand, the way he shifted instead, and there was a brief flicker of something like quiet approval before he said, “You’re pacing yourself,” low enough that it stayed between them.

Buck huffed softly at that, not denying it as he leaned back slightly and replied, “I have to,” the words simple, not frustrated, just factual, his hand still resting low as Eddie stepped a little closer and asked, quieter now, “She still moving alright?” Buck nodded immediately, the answer coming without hesitation as he said, “Yeah, she’s been active all day,” his thumb brushing once more against the bracelet like a quiet confirmation. Eddie’s shoulders eased a fraction at that, the tension leaving just as quickly as it had appeared.

Another appointment waited after that, routine but important in the way they all were, and Buck pushed himself up with a measured shift, slower than he would have been months ago but no less certain, already stepping back into that familiar role as he reached for the file on his desk. The difference was there if you were looking for it, in the way he moved, in the way he managed his energy, but it didn’t change what he brought to the room or the way people listened when he spoke. It just meant he was carrying something extra alongside everything else, and that wasn’t a limitation, just something new he’d learned how to work with.

By the time they pulled up outside the school, Buck had the seat eased back further than he would have needed a couple of months ago, one hand resting low against his stomach while the other idly traced along the edge of the bracelet at his wrist, the motion unconscious rather than deliberate, something that had worked its way into habit over the past few weeks as the pregnancy settled into something constant rather than something he noticed in passing. The day sat heavier on him now than it would have earlier, not in a way that stopped him but in a way that made itself known in the quieter moments. He shifted slightly where he sat, adjusting until it felt right before letting out a slow breath, his attention settling on the school gates as the first wave of students started to spill out. Eddie didn’t comment this time, not needing to, just giving him a brief glance that took in the posture, the hand placement, the small, familiar signs, before his focus returned to the road, the check-in already done earlier and not needing to be repeated.

Chris spotted them quickly, weaving through the crowd with the kind of certainty that came from routine, and by the time he climbed into the back seat, dropping his bag properly instead of letting it fall where it landed, his attention had already shifted forward as he leaned slightly between the seats and asked, “Is she awake?” the question easy, curious rather than concerned. Buck’s expression softened without him meaning it to, something warmer settling in as he nodded and said, “Yeah, she is,” which seemed to be exactly the answer Chris was waiting for because he immediately followed it with, “Can I feel?” already shifting closer like the answer was obvious.

Buck huffed a quiet breath that might have been a laugh, adjusting his position just enough to make it easier as he said, “Yeah, come here,” guiding him without making a moment of it, one hand settling over Chris’s as he placed it properly while adding, softer now, “Give it a second.” His own hand rested just above Chris’s, and it didn’t take long before the movement came, stronger and more defined than it had been even recently, enough that Chris went completely still for a second before his eyes widened slightly as he said, “She moved,” not loudly, just certain. Buck nodded, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he answered, “Yeah, that’s her,” the words easy, grounded, his hand staying there for a moment longer before easing back.

Chris lingered for another second like he was waiting to see if it would happen again, then leaned back into his seat, still a little more aware than before as he added, “She’s busy,” which pulled a soft huff from Buck as he glanced briefly towards Eddie before replying, “Yeah, she is.” His hand drifted back to where it had been before, the contact instinctive now rather than something he thought about.

The drive home settled back into its usual rhythm after that, Chris talking through his day in the slightly disjointed way that made sense to him, Buck listening with that same steady attention even as he shifted occasionally to stay comfortable, and Eddie filling in the gaps where needed without interrupting the flow, the difference sitting quietly underneath it all rather than being pointed out, in the way Chris reached forward again without thinking to rest his hand briefly where he’d just felt the movement, in the way Buck let him without comment, in the way Eddie noticed and didn’t say anything. It wasn’t something separate from their lives anymore, not something they had to pause for or acknowledge each time it came up, just something threaded through it naturally, steady enough that none of them questioned it, just adjusted around it without needing to say why.

By the time everyone had arrived and settled properly, the baby shower had taken on that structured rhythm Buck hadn’t realised he’d needed until it was there, everything centred around the table where food had been laid out neatly rather than scattered, plates passed around, cups of tea and glasses of juice moving between hands as people actually sat instead of drifting, which made it easier to stay in it without getting overwhelmed. He’d been guided into a chair early on and hadn’t argued it, lowering himself carefully with a quiet exhale as one hand came to rest low against his stomach, the other loosely curled around a mug he wasn’t really drinking from, his attention moving between conversations without needing to hold any of them fully. “You alright?” Eddie asked as he passed close enough to check without making it obvious, and Buck huffed softly in response, shifting slightly before answering, “Yeah, just heavy,” not complaining, just stating it, which earned a small nod like it was expected, not something that needed fixing. Chris had planted himself nearby instead of disappearing into the background, listening in when people spoke about the baby, occasionally adding something of his own with that easy confidence he’d grown into, and when someone asked about names, Buck felt the shift in attention immediately, his gaze lifting as he answered, “Amelia,” steady now, the name settled properly, and when Chris added, “Amelia Isabel,” without hesitation, Buck glanced at him with something softer in his expression before looking back down again, his hand pressing just slightly more firmly where it rested.

The games followed naturally after that, not chaotic but guided, questions about them as babies, guesses and comparisons that pulled small reactions rather than big ones, the kind of thing Buck would have resisted once but now just moved through, engaged enough without putting energy into fighting it, his posture shifting every so often as he adjusted, his hand always returning to the same place without drawing attention unless someone was looking for it. “You’re competitive,” Eddie murmured when Buck corrected an answer a little too quickly, and Buck huffed softly at that, replying, “I just know things,” the faint edge of amusement taking any weight out of it, the moment passing easily into the next. By the time they moved on to gifts, everyone had settled properly again, attention focused, Chris already leaning forward before anything had been opened, and Buck didn’t hesitate to pass the first one to him instead of doing it himself, saying quietly, “You’re helping,” which Chris took seriously, opening each one carefully, holding things up without being asked, making it clear without saying it that this wasn’t something happening to him but something he was part of. “That’s for her,” he said at one point, like it needed to be clarified, and Buck let out a soft breath that might have been a laugh as he replied, “Yeah, it is,” his hand pressing again, grounding rather than checking. It went on longer than he would have managed earlier in the pregnancy, but the structure carried him, the pauses built in, the way everything happened in stages instead of all at once, and when it finally eased, conversations breaking back into smaller pieces as people started to gather their things, Buck stayed seated, letting the shift happen around him rather than pushing to match it, his shoulders dropping slightly as he let out a slow breath. “You done?” Eddie asked quietly when he stepped back into his space, and Buck nodded, answering, “Yeah,” softer now, not exhausted, just aware, his hand still resting where it had been all afternoon as he glanced once more at the neatly stacked gifts and the space they’d filled. It didn’t feel like something separate anymore, not something they were planning in the distance, just something that had settled fully into place, close enough now that everything else had started arranging itself around it.

By the time it settled in properly at thirty-five weeks, the instinct didn’t come in a rush or burn itself out after a burst of activity, it rooted itself and stayed, stretching across days in a way that made everything Buck did feel connected, each task leading naturally into the next rather than replacing it, nothing ever quite finished because finishing something only made the next step clearer. It started at work because that was where it needed to start, his office becoming something he could leave without hesitation, every case file pulled and checked properly, not just for completion but for clarity, making sure every after-appointment letter was in the right place, every document ordered by person so nothing would be lost in the system he’d built, notes rewritten where they might be misread so whoever covered for him wouldn’t have to guess. He didn’t rush it or skim, and when a colleague mentioned Dreft Stage 1: Newborn and Downy Fabric Free & Gentle in passing, something about it being better for babies and sensitive skin, it slotted into place immediately, not something to think about later but something that needed to be implemented, carried home with him as part of the same process rather than a separate decision.

That was where it spread, not abruptly but completely, their room first because it was there, accessible, something he could start immediately, his maternity clothes sorted not just by type but by when they’d stopped fitting, earlier pieces folded away while the later ones stayed within reach, work clothes organised before anything else because they mattered differently, then everything else following the same logic until the system made sense in a way it hadn’t before. From there it moved outward without pause, Eddie’s wardrobe pulled into the same structure whether it matched or not, then bedding, towels, everything stripped back and washed, then washed again once the detergent changed because it wasn’t enough for things to have been clean before, not with new standards in place. Once he started washing it didn’t stop at what was obvious, curtains taken down and cleaned even though they didn’t look dirty, Chris’s clothes included without question because if it was better for the baby then it was better for all of them, the logic simple and absolute even if it meant redoing work he’d already done.

The deeper cleaning followed naturally from that rather than feeling like a separate phase, Buck moving through the house in loops instead of lines, starting in one room and circling back when something connected, carpets cleaned with the machine instead of just hoovered because surface-level wasn’t enough anymore, light bulbs checked and replaced so nothing would fail, ceiling fan dusted carefully with a feather duster and a mask because he wasn’t risking breathing anything in, everything wiped down and then reorganised before it went back so nothing returned to the wrong place. It was in the middle of that, crouched lower than he should have been with the steam cleaner running steadily in his hands, that Eddie stopped in the doorway and just watched for a second, taking in the way Buck was working it carefully along the radiator, not just across the surface but between the fins where dust settled unseen. “You’re cleaning inside the radiators,” he said, not a question so much as an acknowledgement, and Buck didn’t look up as he answered, “Dust sits in them, it’s not clean if it’s still there,” his tone focused, certain, like it was obvious, continuing without pause even when Eddie added, “You’ve already done the rest of the house,” because that wasn’t the point, Buck glancing up just long enough to say, “Then this is what’s left,” before going straight back to it, the movement precise rather than frantic.

That same focus carried forward into the baby’s things once he reached them, the instinct sharpening rather than easing as he handled them, each piece checked and then washed again with the new detergent, sorted first into clear roller drawers by size while the nursery was still being prepared, because the nursery wasn’t ready yet, couldn’t be until it had been painted and aired out properly. “It needs doing now,” he told Eddie, not asking, just stating it as part of the process, already moving on to the next task while Eddie got started, and while the room sat empty and airing, Buck built everything around it, nappy caddies set up both downstairs and upstairs because going between floors wouldn’t always be practical, bottles bought and sterilised even though he planned to chest feed, formula added quietly because just in case mattered more than preference. The hospital bag followed, packed from researched lists instead of memory because he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d taken with Chris and that wasn’t good enough this time, unpacked and repacked when something didn’t feel right, lists written of what still needed to be added on the day so nothing would be forgotten.

It threaded into the rest of the house as well, furniture shifted because the layout didn’t make sense anymore, the lounge rearranged so there was space for what would come, their bedroom adjusted until it could actually hold what it needed, and once the nursery was ready the baby’s clothes moved again, transferred from the temporary drawers into the changing unit and wardrobe, organised again by size because they had to be right, everything placed where it could be found without thinking. He sat with Eddie to pick her outfits, the special ones, the first ones, only to change his mind later and redo it, not indecision but refinement, the same way everything else had been refined. It was in the middle of one of those loops, pulling out the memory box to compare and check, that the shift caught up to him properly.

He didn’t notice it building, just found himself holding one of Chris’s first outfits, too small to make sense now, and the realisation hit all at once, how small his son had been, how big he was now, how far they’d come from where they’d started, and the emotion followed without warning, Buck sitting down without meaning to because it was easier than staying upright, the clothes still in his hands as he tried to breathe through it and couldn’t quite manage. By the time Eddie found him, the instinctive reaction had already softened, the question, “What happened?” coming out automatically but landing differently when Buck shook his head and said, “He was so small,” like that explained everything, like that was enough, and it was, Eddie settling beside him instead of pulling him out of it, grounding rather than fixing, letting it pass at its own pace before eventually helping him up when he was ready.

By the time it finally settled, the house didn’t look like it had before, everything cleaner, sharper, more ordered, but also changed, furniture moved, systems in place, their bed no longer laid out flat but pulled into something closer to a nest, blankets layered and enclosed around the pregnancy pillow in a way that felt right in a way nothing else did. Buck eased into it with a quiet exhale, the first moment in days where he stopped moving, his hand resting low as he shifted slightly before saying softly, “They need to smell like you,” passing the blankets towards Eddie and then towards Chris without looking up, the request simple but necessary. Once it was done, once their scents settled into the space around him, he finally relaxed properly, not because everything was finished, but because for now, it was enough.

By the time everything that could be set in place had been, Buck didn’t stop moving through it, he just stopped starting new things, the instinct shifting into something quieter but no less constant, a loop of checking, correcting, refining that sat underneath everything else. It showed in the way he moved from one task to the next without really leaving any of them behind, the hospital bag unzipped and checked again not because anything had changed but because it needed confirming, lists opened and read through without edits, the nappy caddy upstairs adjusted to match the one downstairs exactly even though it already did, his fingers pausing over items like he was measuring something only he could feel. He didn’t rush it, didn’t make it obvious, but it never really stopped either, the house lived in around it while he kept it aligned, small shifts that wouldn’t register to anyone else but were immediate to him.

Chris had started anticipating it in his own way, putting things back where Buck would want them rather than where they landed, though Buck still followed behind occasionally, straightening something that didn’t quite sit right before moving on without comment. “It’s already fine,” Chris said once, watching him adjust something that hadn’t been wrong, and Buck huffed softly at that, answering, “It needs to stay that way,” not sharp, just certain, the difference sitting in the tone rather than the words. Eddie didn’t interrupt it anymore, just worked with it, putting things back where Buck had moved them even if he didn’t fully track the system, because it mattered that Buck did, the adjustment quiet and constant in the same way Buck’s was.

When Eddie came in that evening, Buck was halfway through checking the contents of the hospital bag again, not unpacking it this time, just running through it, his hand resting low between movements as he shifted slightly where he sat. “You’ve checked that three times,” Eddie said, not a complaint, more an observation, and Buck didn’t look up as he answered, “I know,” before adding, after a second, “It’s right,” like that was the point, and Eddie huffed quietly at that, not arguing it, just stepping closer and resting his wrist briefly against the blanket beside him, letting the scent settle without making it a thing.

Buck went still for a second after that, not stopping completely, just pausing long enough to register it before continuing, though slower now, his thumb brushing lightly against the bracelet at his wrist before he said, quieter, “She’s shifted,” not uncertain, just noting it. Eddie’s attention sharpened immediately at that, his posture changing without him thinking about it as he asked, “What do you mean?” rather than dismissing it. Buck tilted his head slightly, considering it properly before answering, “Lower… more pressure,” his hand pressing a little more firmly as if to map it out, and Eddie nodded once, not brushing it off this time, just saying, “Alright,” before adding, more deliberately, “Keep an eye on it,” the words calm but engaged, the kind of response that acknowledged it without escalating it.

Buck nodded faintly at that, the instruction fitting into the rhythm he was already in rather than disrupting it, and after a second he shifted again, pulling the blanket closer before saying, softer now, “Need you to scent this again,” not looking up as he said it. Eddie didn’t question it, just leaned in enough to press his wrist, then the side of his neck against the fabric, the motion familiar now, repeated enough that it didn’t need explaining. Chris followed a second later without being asked, quick and easy, before stepping back out of the way again.

The house didn’t feel unfinished, not in any practical sense, everything in place, everything ready, but Buck didn’t settle into that, didn’t ease off it, just held it there, steady and exact, like if he kept everything aligned then nothing would be missed. And underneath it, quiet but unmistakable, something had shifted, a change he could feel even if he couldn’t yet name what it meant.

It started quietly enough that Buck didn’t register it as anything different at first, just another tightening layered into everything else his body had been doing for weeks, the kind that came and went without needing attention, and he adjusted around it automatically, one hand pressing low as he exhaled through it before going straight back to what he’d been doing, the hospital bag open beside him, fingers brushing over items he’d already checked more times than necessary. It didn’t interrupt the rhythm he’d been holding onto, just slotted into it, something to account for rather than react to, and when it eased he didn’t linger on it, just kept going, shifting slightly where he sat before reaching for the zip again like nothing had changed. The second one held a fraction longer, enough that he paused properly this time, his hand staying where it was as he breathed through it, but even then the recognition came easily, familiar enough that he dismissed it before it could settle into anything else. “Braxton Hicks,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, the words quiet but certain, like that explained it, like that meant it didn’t need to go any further, and when it passed he picked up where he’d left off without hesitation, the movement automatic, practised, like he’d already decided it wasn’t worth stopping for.

Eddie noticed anyway, not on the first, but on the way Buck didn’t quite move straight through the second, the pause just long enough to stand out, and he didn’t say anything immediately, just watched, letting it play out instead of interrupting it, his attention settling more fully when the third came sooner than it should have, Buck’s hand tightening briefly where it rested as his breathing shifted without him meaning it to. “That another one?” he asked then, low and even, not pushing, just marking it, and Buck nodded once, already working through it, letting it pass before answering, “Yeah, just Braxton Hicks,” easy, certain, like it hadn’t changed since the last one, even though the spacing already had. Eddie didn’t contradict him straight away, didn’t rush it, just tracked it instead, the clock, Buck’s breathing, the way his posture changed each time it came, and when the next one followed close behind, then another that didn’t ease off the way it should have, he stepped closer without thinking, the shift from observing to engaging happening quietly but completely. “They’re not spacing out,” he said, still calm, still measured, but firmer now, and Buck huffed softly at that, shaking his head as he adjusted again, his hand pressing low as he said, “They will,” like it was just a matter of time, like he’d seen this before, even as the next one started before he’d fully settled from the last.

That was where it shifted, not suddenly, but enough that it couldn’t sit where it had been before, Buck’s movements slowing because they had to, not because he chose it, his breath catching slightly as he worked through it again. Eddie didn’t wait this time, didn’t let him dismiss it again before it could be named, and when he said, “Buck,” his voice was steady and certain, not loud but not leaving room for it to be brushed off. “Those aren’t Braxton Hicks,” he said, the words landing cleanly, and Buck didn’t answer straight away, the end of it still fading as he let out a slow breath, his hand pressing a little more firmly before easing, his gaze dropping briefly like he was recalibrating rather than reacting. “They’re early,” he said after a second, quieter now, like that made it manageable, like that meant it didn’t have to be what Eddie was calling it yet, and Eddie nodded once at that, not dismissing it, just grounding it where it actually sat as he replied, “Yeah, they are.” A beat passed before he added, just as steady, “They’re still contractions.” Across the room, Chris had gone quiet somewhere in the middle of it, watching in that way he did when he was trying to understand without interrupting, and Buck glanced over at him briefly, his expression softening just enough to say, “Hey, it’s okay,” the reassurance automatic even if everything had shifted underneath it, his hand settling back where it had become instinctive as the next tightening started to build again, not something he could ignore this time, not something that fit where he’d put it before. It wasn’t contained anymore, and Buck knew it, even if he hadn’t said it yet.

It didn’t need to be said again, Buck settling into the rhythm of working through each contraction as it came, his focus turned inward enough that he wasn’t tracking them so much as moving with them, but Eddie was, the shift from watching to acting happening quietly as he started timing properly, checking the clock at the start of one, then again at the next, letting the pattern confirm itself instead of jumping ahead, and when it held, when the spacing stayed consistent, he said, “They’re eight minutes,” placing it into the room rather than asking anything of it. Buck nodded faintly, still half in the tail end of it as he murmured, “Still early,” like that settled it, and Eddie didn’t argue, just reached for his phone and put it on speaker without moving away, keeping it between them so Buck could hear it as clearly as he could. The line rang once before a calm voice answered, “Labour ward, how can I help?” and Eddie responded immediately, steady and clear, “Hi, I’m calling about my partner, he’s contracting regularly, about eight minutes apart,” his gaze flicking briefly to Buck as another contraction started to build, Buck shifting slightly where he sat, one hand pressing low as he breathed through it. “Okay, how long have they been like that?” she asked, and Eddie gave the timeline cleanly, answering each follow-up without hesitation, the pattern, the duration, everything he’d already been holding in the background. When she asked about the birth plan, he didn’t pause, just confirmed it in the same even tone, “You should have a copy, but no epidural, gas and air only, delayed cord clamping, he wants to be on his back on the bed, immediate skin-to-skin, I’ll be cutting the cord, and he wants to try chest feeding,” listening briefly before continuing, “no visitors for the first twenty-four hours except our son and Jessica, she’s caring for him, baby will have the vitamin K shot, and he’s allergic to naproxen.” There was a brief pause as she checked, then, “Yes, I’ve got all of that here,” followed by, “At the moment we’d usually suggest staying home until contractions are about five minutes apart for at least an hour, especially if he’s still coping well,” and Buck huffed softly under his breath at that, a quiet, “Told you,” slipping out without interrupting properly. “If anything changes, or you’re unsure, call back,” she added, then shifted easily into practical advice, “now’s a good time to add things like padsicles, chargers, and if you’re using a camera, have that ready,” and Eddie’s gaze flicked to the bag beside them as he answered, “Yeah, we’ll do that,” before ending the call with a simple, “Thank you.”

He didn’t pause after that, already moving as he opened the bag properly and added what had been mentioned, padsicles placed in carefully, chargers gathered and packed instead of assumed, the camera picked up and checked before being set where it could be reached quickly, Buck watching without really focusing as the next contraction built, his hand pressing more firmly as he leaned forward slightly, breathing through it before easing back again. “Five minutes for an hour,” Eddie said as he zipped the bag closed, placing it rather than pushing it, and Buck nodded faintly, still anchored to, “Still early,” even as everything else shifted around him, his attention drifting just enough that when the contraction eased he reached for his phone instead, scrolling without looking for long before tapping something and setting it down again. The first notes filled the room a second later, familiar enough that Eddie stilled briefly where he was, recognition immediate, and he huffed a quiet breath before glancing over at Chris and saying, low enough that it didn’t cut across what Buck was doing, “These are the same songs we had you to,” something softer sitting under the words, not heavy, just there, and Chris looked up at that, attention sharpening slightly as he listened, like he was placing himself into something that had existed before him knowing it.

The music settled into the space without disrupting anything, just becoming part of it, Buck leaning back slightly into it between contractions, not fully relaxing but not resisting it either, his hand still resting low as the next one started to build, his breathing shifting to match the rhythm in a way that made it easier to move through. Eddie didn’t comment on that, just moved on to the next step, already pulling his phone back out as he called, “Hey, Jess,” tone steady but purposeful, “it’s started, contractions are regular, can you come get Chris?” listening briefly before adding, “We’re staying home for now, but it won’t be long,” his gaze flicking towards Chris again, then, “Thank you,” before ending the call cleanly. “Jess is on her way,” he said, and Chris nodded once, already moving without needing to be told, the routine slotting into place, and Eddie followed through behind it, lifting the hospital bags and taking them out to the car, placing them in the boot before locking the car seat into the ISOFIX base with a solid click, checking it once, then again, because it needed to be right. When he came back inside, the music was still playing, Buck still moving through it one contraction at a time, not rushing ahead, not fully acknowledging how close it was getting even as everything else lined up around him, the space holding steady even as it shifted. It still felt early to him. But everything else was already in motion.

The music carried through the room in a way that didn’t slow anything down but gave Buck something to settle into between contractions, something familiar enough that he could hold onto it rather than fight what his body was doing, though the space between each one was already tightening, the pattern shifting without asking as the pressure deepened and held him longer each time. He wasn’t moving through them the same way now, not reaching for anything once one started, just staying where he was, his focus narrowing completely until it passed, and even if he hadn’t said anything out loud, it showed in the way he didn’t try to resume what he’d been doing afterwards, his body choosing stillness over movement before he consciously did. Eddie tracked it without interrupting, watching the timing, the way Buck’s breathing changed, the way his posture held through each one, adjusting around it rather than calling it out, while Chris stayed close enough to be present without getting in the way, that quiet awareness sitting in him that meant he understood something was different even if no one had explained it directly. The sound of the car pulling up outside cut through the rhythm just as one eased, Eddie’s attention flicking briefly towards the door before settling back as he said, “That’ll be Jess,” already moving to pick up Chris’s bag because that part didn’t need thinking about, and Chris nodded immediately, shifting towards the door, but Buck didn’t stay where he was this time, pushing himself upright despite the way his body resisted it, one hand pressing low as he steadied himself before crossing the room, slower than he would have been even an hour ago but with a kind of certainty that didn’t leave space for stopping halfway. “Hey, come here,” he said, his voice catching before he’d even reached him, and when Chris turned back, Buck pulled him in properly, not brief, not light, holding him close in a way that made it clear he wasn’t just sending him off for the night. “You’re going with Jess, yeah,” he said softly, though it wasn’t really a question, his hand coming up to the back of Chris’s head as he held him there for a second longer than usual, like he was trying to fix the moment in place, and then, quieter but heavier, “Next time you see us, you’re going to be a big brother,” the words landing with more weight than he’d intended, something catching in his chest as the reality of it settled fully, not just the baby coming but everything that sat behind it, everything they had been when Chris was born and everything they were now. He let out a shaky breath that didn’t quite steady, his grip tightening briefly before he forced himself to ease back just enough to look at him properly, his voice rougher when he added, “I love you,” and Chris answered it without hesitation, steady and certain in a way that made it easier and harder all at once.

Eddie stepped in once Buck let him go, Chris’s bag already in hand, and he didn’t interrupt what had just passed between them, just folded Chris into him with the same steady presence he always had, one hand firm at his back as he said, “You’ve got everything,” more habit than question, his voice grounded, and when Chris nodded, Eddie held him there for a second longer than usual, something quieter sitting underneath it as he added, “We’ll call you,” not making it bigger than it needed to be, just something solid to carry out with him. Jessica stepped in as the moment shifted, greeting them quickly, taking the bag from Eddie with an ease that came from knowing exactly what this meant without needing it explained, and within seconds Chris was moving out with her, turning back once before the door closed behind him, the sound softer than it should have been but landing heavier than anything else in the room. For a second, neither of them moved, the space holding what had just happened, not just that Chris had left but what it meant, that they had started with him in a place where everything had been uncertain, where they had been building from nothing, trying to stay, trying to make something stable out of something fragile, and now he was walking out of a home that was secure, settled, theirs, making space for a sibling who would arrive into something entirely different. Eddie let out a slow breath, his gaze lingering on the door for just a second longer before it shifted back, but Buck didn’t get that same space to sit in it, the next contraction hitting fully this time, cutting through everything else and dropping him back down onto the bed without hesitation, one hand braced, the other pressing low as his breathing changed immediately, deeper, more focused, the emotion still there but overtaken by something more immediate. Eddie moved with it without needing to think, stepping back into place beside him, one hand settling at his back as Buck leaned into it, the contact grounding where words weren’t needed, the music still playing, the house still exactly as it had been, but the shift complete now in a way it hadn’t been before.

The contraction didn’t ease him back into anything this time, it held longer, deeper, pulling Buck fully into it in a way that made it impossible to think past it, his hand pressing firmly where it had become instinctive as his breathing shifted to meet it, slower, more deliberate, his body settling into the rhythm without waiting for him to decide how to handle it. When it passed, the space it left behind wasn’t the same as before, thinner, shorter, barely enough to reset before the next one began to build again, and he stayed where he was instead of trying to move straight away, his head tipped back slightly as he pulled in a breath that didn’t quite fill the way he expected. Eddie didn’t rush that moment, didn’t push him up or move him on, just tracked it, checking the time, then Buck, then the time again, the pattern tightening into something that no longer needed guessing, each contraction coming in closer, more consistent, the gap closing in a way that confirmed what he already knew. “That’s five,” he said quietly after one passed, not announcing it so much as marking it, and Buck huffed a breath that might have been agreement or dismissal, his voice quieter now as he said, “Still early,” even as he didn’t move to get up, his body already choosing stillness over anything else.

They didn’t leave then, didn’t rush to the car just because the timing had shifted, Eddie letting it settle into something real rather than reacting to a single change, watching for consistency instead of possibility, and the next contraction came when it should, not earlier, not later, Buck bracing more obviously this time, one hand gripping the edge of the bed as the other pressed low, his breathing deeper, more focused, the effort more visible in the way his shoulders held through it. Eddie checked the time again, the confirmation sitting heavier now, and when the third came in at the same interval, held the same way, didn’t ease off into something wider, he let out a small breath and nodded once, more to himself than anything else. “That’s three in a row that are five minutes apart,” he said, quieter but firmer now, the decision settling in place, and Buck didn’t argue it this time, didn’t try to reframe it, just nodded faintly, his attention already pulled inward again as the next one started to build, the shift from staying to going happening around him rather than because of him.

“Alright, we’re going,” Eddie said then, not rushed, not panicked, just definite, and this time Buck moved when he was asked, slower than before but without resistance, pushing himself upright with care, one hand braced, the other still anchored low as he steadied himself before taking a step forward. Eddie stayed close without crowding him, one hand hovering before settling lightly at his back when the next contraction threatened to catch him mid-step, Buck pausing where he was, shoulders tightening as he breathed through it, not pushing past it, just waiting until it released enough for him to keep moving. The house stayed exactly as it had been as they moved through it, everything in place, every detail Buck had fixed still holding, and for a second his gaze caught on it, not long enough to stop but enough to register that there was nothing left to do there, nothing left to adjust before they left it behind.

Eddie moved ahead just enough to open the door and grab what he needed without breaking Buck’s pace, keys, phone, and then detoured briefly to the cupboard by the door, pulling out a towel and folding it once as he stepped outside, moving quickly but not carelessly, laying it across the passenger seat before opening the door fully. By the time Buck reached the car, another contraction was already building, stopping him just short of it, one hand bracing against the frame as his head dropped slightly, his breath catching before he found the rhythm again, the world narrowing down to just that moment. Eddie was there immediately, one hand firm at his back, the other steadying at his side, not speaking at first, just grounding him through it, letting it pass properly before moving him on. “Easy, I’ve got you,” he said quietly as it eased, guiding him the last step forward, and Buck nodded faintly, not looking up straight away as he lowered himself carefully into the seat, the towel shifting slightly under him as he adjusted, his hand still anchored low as he tried to find a position that worked with what his body was doing rather than against it. Eddie closed the door but didn’t get in immediately, moving quickly around to the driver’s side while Buck settled, checking the timing again without making a point of it, because now it mattered differently, the pattern already established, the decision already made. By the time the engine started, Buck was already bracing for the next one, his breathing shifting before it fully hit, his body moving ahead of his thoughts in a way that made it clear they hadn’t left too early. If anything Eddie knew they’d timed it exactly right.

The car didn’t move straight away in Buck’s perception even though Eddie pulled out smoothly, the transition from house to motion blurring together as the next contraction took hold before he’d fully settled into the seat, his hand pressing firmly where it had become instinctive as his breathing shifted to meet it, deeper now, more deliberate, the rhythm no longer something he could adjust around but something he had to follow completely. The towel beneath him shifted slightly as he braced, his shoulders tightening as he leaned forward a fraction, the space in the car suddenly smaller than it had been when he first sat down, everything narrowing to the sensation, the timing, the need to let it pass without fighting it. Eddie didn’t rush the car, didn’t accelerate sharply, just drove with a controlled steadiness that kept everything predictable, one hand on the wheel, the other hovering close enough that he could reach Buck without taking his focus off the road completely. “You’re doing good,” he said quietly, not as reassurance he expected Buck to respond to but as something to anchor him through it, and Buck let out a breath that didn’t quite form words, his head tipping back briefly as the contraction eased, though the recovery didn’t stretch the way it had even ten minutes earlier.

The streetlights passed in steady intervals, each one marking time in a way Eddie didn’t need to check now, the pattern already set, each contraction arriving when it should, not easing, not spacing out, the consistency telling him everything he needed to know about how quickly this was moving. Buck shifted again, trying to find a position that worked as the next one built sooner than he expected, his breath catching slightly before he found the rhythm again, one hand braced against the seat, the other pressing low as he leaned forward more fully this time. “Okay,” he said under his breath, not really speaking to Eddie so much as placing it somewhere outside himself, the word shorter, tighter than before, and Eddie’s grip on the wheel adjusted slightly, not because of the road but because of the shift he could hear in Buck’s voice. “You want the window?” Eddie asked after it eased, already reaching before Buck answered, cracking it open just enough to let cooler air into the car, the change immediate, cutting through the heat that had built up in the space. Buck nodded faintly, his breathing still uneven as he leaned back again, though not fully, his body resisting stillness now in a way it hadn’t earlier, like it needed movement even when there was nowhere to go. The music was still playing quietly from his phone, the same playlist that had been running in the house, and it filled the space between them without demanding attention, something constant even as everything else accelerated.

Another contraction came, closer again, and this time Buck didn’t try to sit through it, shifting sideways as much as the seatbelt allowed, his hand gripping the edge of the seat as his head dropped forward, his breath catching hard before settling into something deeper, more focused. Eddie glanced over briefly, just enough to take it in without pulling his attention from the road, the way Buck held through it, the way the recovery didn’t come as quickly afterwards, and he let out a slow breath through his nose, recalibrating without saying it out loud. “We’re close,” he said after a moment, not as reassurance but as information, something solid to hold onto, and Buck nodded once, though it was delayed, his focus still halfway inside the tail end of it as he said, quieter now, “Yeah,” the word less certain than it had been earlier, less dismissive, like he’d stopped trying to define where they were and was just moving through it instead. The car kept moving, steady, controlled, the outside world passing by without either of them really registering it, everything narrowing down to the space between contractions and the way that space was shrinking, the rhythm tightening into something that didn’t leave room for anything else. And this time there was no doubt they were on their way at exactly the right moment.

The car had barely settled before Buck was already moving, not waiting to be guided out but pushing himself forward because standing still didn’t work anymore, the next contraction building too quickly for him to stay where he was, his hand bracing against the door frame as he leaned into it, breath catching hard before settling into the rhythm he’d been following since they left the house, a low “okay, okay” slipping out under his breath as he worked through it while Eddie stayed right there, one hand firm at his back, not pulling him out of it but grounding him through it, and when it eased enough for him to move Buck didn’t hesitate, stepping forward with determination that had nothing to do with comfort and everything to do with getting inside. The automatic doors opened as they approached, the shift into the ward immediate, familiar enough that recognition landed without slowing him down, someone glancing up and doing a double take before saying “Buck?” and he nodded once without stopping, answering “yeah” with breath still uneven but voice steady enough to hold, another contraction already threatening to build underneath it as he reached the desk and braced there, one hand flat against it, the other pressing low while he forced the words through in controlled pieces, “Evan Christopher Diaz, twenty-seventh of June nineteen ninety-one, second pregnancy, thirty-nine weeks three days,” pausing only long enough to breathe before continuing, delivering it the way he would have expected anyone else to even now, his head dipping slightly as the contraction climbed. Recognition settled fully across the desk, not just of his name but of who he was in that space, and the shift in attention was immediate without becoming chaotic, someone already saying “okay Buck, we’ve got you” as they moved, and he nodded faintly, his hand tightening against the counter as the contraction peaked and then without warning everything changed as a sudden, unmistakable release cut through the moment, warmth spreading instantly, the sensation pulling a sharp breath from him before he could stop it, his gaze dropping instinctively before he steadied it and said “my waters just broke” with more certainty than surprise, and there was no hesitation in response, no confusion, just immediate adjustment as someone answered “alright, we’re taking you straight through,” the tone sharpening into action as they moved him from check-in to active care without delay.

They guided him forward as the next contraction came harder and closer than the last, Buck’s hand reaching for Eddie without looking, grip firm as he leaned into him, another tight “okay” slipping out as he worked through it while Eddie matched him without stepping in front, one hand steady at his back, the other bracing where needed, letting Buck lead even as everything accelerated around them. The corridor was familiar but it didn’t ground him now, the next contraction hitting halfway and stopping him outright, his shoulders tightening as he breathed through it, deeper, more instinctive, the words “don’t move me” coming out strained but controlled as he held through it and Eddie immediately steadied with “I’ve got you, I’m right here,” his voice low and firm, not rushing him, just holding the space until it eased enough for Buck to push forward again on his own. They reached the room quickly, the transition onto the bed not smooth but managed, Buck’s body resisting the change before settling because it had to, his breathing already shifting again as another contraction built before the last had fully left him while the midwife said she was going to do a quick check and Buck managed a short “yeah” even as his focus was pulled elsewhere, his body dragging him into the next wave before he could fully recover. Eddie stayed exactly where he needed to be, one hand grounding at Buck’s side, the other there when Buck reached for him again without looking, the contact immediate and necessary, and for a brief second between contractions Buck looked at him, something clearer cutting through the intensity as he said “timing was good,” not relief, not disbelief, just fact, before the next contraction took him fully again. The midwife paused just long enough after the check to register it properly, then looked up and said “you’re eight centimetres,” and Buck let out a breath that was half laugh, half disbelief as he answered “of course I am,” the words tight but real before another contraction took hold stronger again, leaving no space for anything else as everything moved forward from there without slowing, without hesitation, because there was no holding it back now, only following where it was already going.

The shift from arriving to being in the room didn’t slow anything down, it only made it clearer how far along Buck already was, the contractions no longer something he could work around at all but something he had to give himself over to completely, his body taking the lead in a way that left no space for anything else as the next one hit almost immediately after the last had eased, his breath catching before dropping into something deeper, more instinctive as he leaned forward, one hand gripping Eddie’s without restraint now. The playlist had followed them without either of them needing to think about it, still playing from his phone where Eddie had set it within reach, the same songs threading through the room, familiar enough that Buck caught onto it between contractions, a breathless “don’t turn that off” slipping out as he shifted, not looking at it but anchoring to it all the same, and Eddie adjusted it slightly without comment, closer, clearer, before returning his full attention to Buck, one hand steady at his back as the next contraction took hold.

It hit harder, closer, Buck’s body responding before he could think about it, his shoulders tightening as he breathed through it, the sound leaving him lower now, less controlled, his grip tightening again as he leaned more fully into Eddie, not holding anything back anymore because there was no space left to do that. “Okay, okay,” he breathed, the repetition grounding as much as anything else while Eddie answered quietly, “yeah, I’ve got you,” his voice low, steady, matching him rather than directing him, the contact between them constant, something solid in the middle of everything else shifting. The midwife moved efficiently around them, explaining what she was doing as she went, but Buck barely tracked it, his focus narrowing completely to the contractions and the shrinking space between them, his body already preparing for the next before the last had fully released him, and when she told him to try to settle back against the bed, he shook his head immediately, his body refusing it for now, pulling him forward instead as he shifted his weight to find something that worked, Eddie adjusting with him without needing instruction, one hand bracing, the other steadying as Buck leaned into him more heavily with each contraction. He didn’t settle back against the bed even though that had been the plan, his body refusing it for now, pulling him forward instead, his weight shifting as he tried to find something that worked, Eddie adjusting with him without needing instruction, one hand bracing, the other steadying as Buck leaned into him more heavily with each contraction. “Too fast,” Buck managed, the words tight as another one built almost immediately, and Eddie shook his head slightly, though his voice stayed calm as he answered, “you’re exactly where you need to be,” not dismissing it but grounding it, keeping Buck in the moment rather than letting it run ahead of him. The playlist shifted quietly in the background, the change subtle but enough that Buck caught it even through everything else, a breathless huff slipping out as he said, “this one,” like he recognised it, like it mattered, and Eddie answered just as quietly, “yeah,” the shared memory sitting there without needing more words.

Another contraction followed straight after, stronger again, Buck’s breath catching before dropping lower, his body moving with it without hesitation now, the control he’d been holding earlier completely gone as he gave into it fully, his grip tightening as he leaned harder into Eddie, the sound he made deeper, pulled from somewhere instinctive rather than controlled. The midwife checked again between contractions, quick, efficient, her tone steady as she said he was very close, and Buck let out a breath that almost broke into a laugh before the next contraction cut it off, “of course I am,” the words tight but real, his head dropping slightly as he worked through it, the effort more visible now, more consuming. There was no real space between them anymore, just brief moments where he could pull in enough air before the next one started, his body already shifting ahead of it, and Eddie stayed exactly where he needed to be, one hand firm at his back, the other still held tightly in Buck’s grip, not letting go, not needing to say more because everything that mattered was already there in the way he stayed. The music continued underneath it all, steady, familiar, something constant in the middle of everything else changing, and Buck held onto it without thinking, his breathing falling into its rhythm where it could, his body doing the rest without waiting for permission. They were past the point of managing it. Now it was just happening.

The shift into pushing didn’t come with a pause or a clear break, it came through Buck’s body changing direction entirely, the pressure dropping lower and becoming something he couldn’t breathe through in the same way anymore, his posture shifting forward without him deciding to move as his grip tightened sharply around Eddie’s hand and a different kind of sound tried to pull out of him with the next contraction. “Wait,” he managed, breath catching hard before dropping into something deeper and more instinctive, his body already bearing down slightly before he could stop it, and Eddie felt the change immediately, the way Buck leaned into him with more weight, his hand pressing more firmly at Buck’s back as he said, “Talk to me,” steady, grounded, keeping him present in it. “I need to push,” Buck said, the words pulled out of him rather than chosen, and the midwife was already moving closer, checking quickly and efficiently, her tone calm but certain as she confirmed he was fully dilated and that what he was feeling was exactly what his body was supposed to be doing.

The next contraction hit before he could fully process it, stronger than anything before, pulling a raw sound from him as his body tried to release it upward instead of downward, and the midwife stepped in immediately, her voice firm but not sharp as she said, “Use that energy to push, don’t let it go up, push it down,” guiding him through it rather than letting it scatter, and Buck nodded even as the effort overtook him, his breath catching as he redirected it, his body following the instruction instinctively once it was given. Another midwife reached for his phone without interrupting, turning the volume up just enough that the music filled the room more clearly, the familiar rhythm cutting through the intensity, and Buck caught onto it even through everything else, his breathing falling into it in fragments as he leaned forward more fully, one hand braced, the other still locked tight around Eddie’s. The familiar sequence gave him something to follow when everything else had become sensation, each beat providing a rhythm he could return to between the effort of one push and the next, and for a few seconds he managed to hold onto that rather than letting the intensity scatter his focus. “That’s it, follow it,” came again, steady, consistent, and Buck did, pushing with the contraction instead of fighting it, the effort visible now in the way his whole body engaged, not held back, not controlled in the same way as before, but focused. Eddie stayed exactly where he needed to be, one hand firm at Buck’s back, the other held tight as Buck bore down, his voice low and constant near him as he said, “I’ve got you, keep going, just like that,” not loud, not overwhelming, just something steady to hold onto, and Buck leaned into it as much as the contraction itself, the sound that left him now redirected, lower, grounded in the push rather than escaping it. The playlist continued underneath everything, louder now but not overpowering, the same songs threading through the room, familiar enough that Buck recognised it in flashes between effort, a breathless, strained “I know this one” slipping out before the next contraction took hold again, and Eddie answered quietly, “yeah, you do,” the shared memory sitting there even as everything else narrowed.

The contractions no longer gave him space to reset, each one building quickly behind the last, and Buck didn’t try to fight that anymore, his body already anticipating it, his breathing shifting ahead of the next push as he braced again, following the pressure as it pulled him down into it. “Again,” he said, not asking, just stating it as the next contraction took hold, and the midwife nodded, her tone steady as she guided him through it, reminding him to keep directing it downward, to use everything he had there instead of letting it escape. Buck followed it without hesitation now, the pattern locked in, each push stronger, more effective, his entire focus narrowed to that single action, the rest of the world fading to the edges while the music carried on steadily beneath it, giving him something constant to hold onto even as everything else moved forward without stopping.

The pattern didn’t break, it refined, Buck’s body no longer pushing blindly into the contractions but responding with precision as the pressure built into something sharper, more focused, his breathing already shifting before the next one fully took hold, his posture forward, grounded, everything aligned with what his body was asking for. “Burning,” he said, the word tight but controlled, recognition rather than panic, and the midwife nodded immediately, her tone steady as she guided him through it, “That’s her, you’re right there now, small pushes, don’t rush it,” and Buck followed it, his breathing breaking into shorter, controlled bursts as he let his body ease into it rather than forcing through, the effort visible in the way his shoulders held, the way his grip tightened around Eddie’s hand without losing focus. The music filled the room, louder now, steady, familiar, and Buck caught it in fragments, his breath falling into it between those smaller pushes, each one deliberate, each one bringing her further without tearing the moment apart. He didn’t rush when the next contraction came, didn’t try to overpower it, instead letting it guide him into those panting pushes, short, controlled, his body working carefully as the head began to crown fully, the pressure intense but no longer overwhelming in the same way, something he could manage because he had to. Eddie stayed exactly where he needed to be, one hand firm at Buck’s back, the other held tightly as he leaned in closer, his voice low and steady near him, “Yeah, just like that, you’re doing it,” not loud, not pulling him out of it, just grounding him as Buck stayed with the rhythm, the sound leaving him controlled now, breath pushed downward rather than lost upward. “Good, keep it there,” the midwife encouraged, her tone even as she worked with him, not rushing him, letting the moment stretch just enough for his body to do what it needed to do safely, and then, as the head came free, the shift was immediate, the pressure changing rather than disappearing, Buck letting out a breath that almost turned into a laugh before he caught it, his body already recalibrating for what came next. For a second he didn't seem to know what to do with the change, the sudden absence of that particular pressure leaving him almost suspended before the next sensation replaced it, his grip loosening fractionally around Eddie's hand before tightening again as his body recognised that there was still more to come. Eddie felt the shift as well, his hand moving slightly higher against Buck's back as he said quietly, “That's it, one part's done,” giving him something concrete to hold onto even as Buck's breathing changed again.

“Okay,” he said, quieter now, like he was resetting himself rather than asking anything, his hand tightening again in Eddie’s as the next contraction started to build, deeper, heavier again, and Eddie leaned closer, his voice carrying that same steadiness as he said, “She’s waiting for this one,” a small pause before he added, softer but with something more threaded through it, “same song, Buck, she’s coming to the same one Chris did,” and Buck let out a breath that caught on something deeper than the contraction for a second, a brief, breathless “course she is” slipping out before the next push took him fully. This one was different, stronger, Buck’s body bearing down with it without hesitation, no longer holding back, no longer pacing it the same way, his breath dropping low as he pushed with everything that was there, the effort clear in the way his entire body engaged, his grip tightening sharply as he followed it through. “That’s it, big push,” the midwife said, still calm but firmer now, guiding him through the final part of it, and Buck didn’t hold anything back this time, the push carrying through fully as the shoulders followed, the resistance giving way all at once as the rest of her body slipped free in a smooth, unmistakable release.

The shift was immediate, the pressure gone in a way that left a different kind of awareness in its place, and then the sound came, strong and clear, cutting through everything else as Amelia Isabel Diaz was brought straight up and placed against Buck’s chest without delay, exactly as he had wanted. His hands came up without thinking, one still shaking slightly as it settled against her back, his breath uneven as he looked down at her, everything that had just happened still moving through him even as something else took over completely. For a moment he simply stared, not seeming to know where to put the shock of recognition now that the months of waiting had collapsed into something warm and real against his chest, his fingers spreading carefully over her back as though he needed the contact to convince himself she was actually there. The room seemed to recede around him, the midwives still moving, Eddie still beside him, the music still playing, but none of it competing with the simple fact that she was here. “Hi,” he said softly, the word breaking just slightly under the weight of it, and Eddie let out a breath beside him that he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, his hand still firm at Buck’s back as he leaned in, his voice quieter now, steady in a different way as he said, “She made it.” The music kept playing, the same song still threading through the room, no longer something to hold onto, but something she had arrived into, exactly the same way her big brother had before her.

The shift from effort to stillness came in layers rather than all at once, Buck still breathing hard, his body coming down gradually as the intensity of what he had just done moved through him in waves that softened rather than stopped, his hands settling more securely against Amelia’s back as she lay against his chest, warm and real and loud in a way that grounded everything else. He didn’t rush to speak, didn’t need to, just let himself look at her properly, his breathing evening out bit by bit as his thumb moved in small, steady strokes without thinking, instinct settling in immediately, his voice quieter when it came, “hey, I’ve got you,” more breath than sound but steady enough to hold. Eddie stayed close, one hand still firm at Buck’s back, not moving away even as the room adjusted around them, his gaze fixed on both of them with a kind of quiet focus that made everything else secondary, and when he said, “she’s perfect,” it wasn’t for confirmation, just because it was the only thing that fit, Buck letting out a soft breath that almost broke into a laugh as he answered, “I know,” his eyes not leaving her.

The midwives moved with calm efficiency around them, one of them explaining quietly to a student at her side that they were waiting for the cord to stop pulsing before clamping, her tone gentle but instructive, and Buck caught it even through everything else, his attention shifting just enough to follow the explanation as Amelia settled further against him. “If you’ve got questions, ask,” he said then, lifting his head slightly to look at the student midwife, his voice still rough from effort but clear, grounded in a different way now. He paused to catch another breath, his eyes dropping briefly to Amelia as his hand shifted against her back before he looked up again, the awareness of what he'd just done still sitting plainly in his face even as something familiar began to settle over it, that instinct to explain, to understand, to make sure everyone around him understood as well. “I’ve been the one doing the learning this time, I’m happy to explain why I chose to delay it,” he added, the offer easy, genuine, not pulling him out of the moment but extending it to include her. The student hesitated for half a second before nodding, encouraged by both the invitation and the midwife beside her, and Buck shifted slightly to keep Amelia secure as he spoke, his hand never leaving her back. “It keeps more of her blood volume with her,” he said, voice steadying as he settled into something familiar, “helps with iron levels, circulation, all of that, and there’s no rush if everything’s fine,” his thumb still moving in slow, reassuring circles as he spoke, the explanation sitting naturally alongside the way he held her. Eddie watched him as he spoke, something quieter settling into his expression, the shift from labour to this, from intensity to calm, from effort to something more grounded, and he let out a slow breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, his hand still resting at Buck’s back. The playlist continued softly in the background, the same thread that had carried them through everything, and Buck caught it again, a small breath leaving him as he said, “she really did come to it,” the thought landing fully now that everything had slowed enough for it to register. Eddie huffed softly at that, something warm in it as he answered, “just like her brother,” the words carrying more than just the surface meaning, tying the moment back without needing to explain it.

When the cord finally stopped pulsing, the midwife spoke again, this time directing the question to them properly, asking if they were ready, and Buck glanced up fully for the first time since Amelia had been placed on his chest, his eyes flicking to Eddie before settling again, a small nod following. Eddie leaned in slightly as he took the scissors when they were offered, his movements careful but certain as he cut the cord, the final physical link shifting into something else entirely. Buck watched the movement for a second, something in his expression changing as the significance of it caught up with him, before his gaze dropped straight back to Amelia, his hand never leaving her back. He let out a slow breath as it happened, not losing contact with her for a second. She settled further against him after that, her breathing evening out as she stayed close, and Buck adjusted instinctively, creating space for her without needing to think about it, his voice softer now as he said, “hi, Amelia,” using her name properly, the word sitting differently now that she was here, real and present. Eddie stayed close, his voice just as quiet as he added, “welcome to the world,” simple, steady, carrying everything that had led them to that point, while the room held around them, calm, unhurried, the music still playing softly underneath it all as something entirely new settled into place.

The moment held for as long as it was allowed to, Amelia warm and solid against Buck’s chest while everything else in the room moved around them in that quiet, practised way that didn’t intrude on what mattered, but it didn’t stay there, the shift coming gently but decisively as the midwife explained they needed to take her across for her initial checks. Buck nodded before the words had fully settled, not resisting it, just adjusting carefully as they lifted her from him. His hands lingered against her for a fraction longer than necessary before he finally let go, his fingers flexing once against the empty space where her back had been as though his body hadn't quite caught up with the change. His gaze followed her without looking away as she was carried across the room, tracking every movement until she was safely where they needed her, and only then did he seem to realise how much of him had still been anchored to the weight of her against his chest. The space between them felt larger than it should have been almost immediately. Eddie stayed close, his hand still at Buck’s back, his attention splitting between Amelia and Buck in a way that didn’t miss anything, and when Buck didn’t settle, didn’t drop into that post-birth stillness he had expected, Eddie felt it before it was said, the difference sitting wrong in a way he recognised.

Buck stayed where he was, his breathing uneven in a way that didn’t match the exertion anymore, his hand drifting low again without thinking as he shifted slightly, testing something he hadn’t named yet. “She’s okay,” he said quietly, more to anchor himself than anything else, his eyes still fixed across the room. He swallowed and shifted again, expecting the familiar release that should have come with the birth, the gradual sense of his body finally letting go after carrying him through the last several hours. It didn't come. Instead there was still that low, heavy pressure sitting underneath everything, persistent enough that he couldn't quite convince himself it was simply the aftermath. Eddie answered, “She’s good, they’ve got her,” steady, certain, but his focus didn’t leave Buck, not when the rest of him wasn’t settling the way it should have. He watched the way Buck held himself, the tension that hadn’t eased, the way his breathing hadn’t dropped back properly, and it clicked against something he already knew. “He hasn’t settled,” Eddie said then, not loud but clear enough to carry, his tone shifting from quiet reassurance to something more directive without becoming sharp, “he didn’t stay like this with Chris,” his hand pressing more firmly at Buck’s back as he added, more certain now, “this is how he was in the car,” grounding it in something specific, something real that couldn’t be brushed aside.

That was enough to shift the room’s attention back without disrupting the calm, the midwife stepping in closer, her focus moving fully onto Buck now as she said, “Alright, talk to me,” her tone steady, inviting detail rather than panic. Buck let out a slow breath, his hand still resting low as he tried to place it properly. He shifted once, then again, the movement careful as he searched for the difference between what should have been ordinary post-birth discomfort and what his body was actually telling him. His brow tightened as another pulse of pressure settled low and refused to disappear, and when he finally spoke his voice was quieter now but more certain than before. “It’s not… finished,” the words coming out in pieces, like he was working through them as he said them. Eddie stayed right there, not moving away, not splitting his focus anymore, his attention locked fully onto Buck now because that was where it needed to be, even as Amelia’s cry carried across the room, strong and steady, confirmation that she was exactly where she needed to be. “Pressure?” the midwife asked, calm, focused, already adjusting her position to assess, and Buck nodded faintly, his breathing catching slightly as he answered, “Yeah… not the same,” his body still holding tension instead of releasing it, the difference clear even without needing to explain it further. Eddie’s hand stayed firm at his back, grounding, steady, his voice lower now but just as certain as he said, “Something’s not right,” Eddie said, not panicked, not escalating it beyond what it was, but not letting it be dismissed either. The room didn’t rush, didn’t break its calm, but the focus shifted completely, the efficiency redirecting towards Buck as the midwife prepared to check properly, her movements deliberate, controlled, and Buck let himself lean into that, trusting it, trusting what his body was telling him and trusting that Eddie had said it out loud when he couldn’t quite shape it yet. Across the room, Amelia cried again, strong and steady. And here, something still wasn’t finished.

The shift in focus tightened around Buck without disrupting the calm of the room, the midwife already moving into position as she guided him to adjust slightly on the bed, her voice steady as she said, “Stay with me, I’m just going to check properly,” and Buck nodded, his breathing still uneven in a way that didn’t match the end of a birth, his hand instinctively settling low again as he shifted under her guidance, the awareness in his body now impossible to ignore. Eddie didn’t move away, his hand firm at Buck’s back, his attention fixed entirely on him, tracking the way the tension hadn’t eased, the way his breathing hadn’t dropped back, the way something was still actively happening rather than resolving. The midwife’s movements were precise, controlled, no hesitation as she checked, and Buck felt it immediately, the contact confirming what his body had already been telling him. The pressure wasn't internal in the way he expected after giving birth, and for a second his mind caught on that difference, trying to make sense of why his body still felt full, why the sensation hadn't disappeared with Amelia's arrival. His breath caught as the realisation began to take shape, his expression tightening as he looked down briefly before back towards the midwife. “There’s something there,” he said quietly, not asking, not uncertain, just stating it as he processed it in real time.

There was no pause, no confusion in the midwife’s response, just a shift in focus that sharpened without becoming alarmed as she adjusted slightly and said, “Yes, there is,” her tone calm but certain, and Buck’s head tipped back slightly as he tried to follow what that meant through everything else still moving through him, his body already reacting before his thoughts could catch up. Eddie’s hand pressed more firmly at his back, grounding, steady, his voice lower but clear as he asked, “What is it?” The question barely had time to leave him before the midwife answered without hesitation, without softening it or delaying it. “I can see the head.” For a second Eddie simply stared at her, his expression going completely still as the meaning caught up with him. His hand remained firm against Buck’s back even as everything in him seemed to recalibrate around the words. One baby was already in the room, and another was apparently already on the way out. He looked back at Buck immediately, his focus narrowing again as the next contraction started to build. For a second Buck didn’t move, didn’t speak, the meaning settling in alongside the sensation as it shifted again, stronger now, pulling him forward slightly as his breath dropped into something deeper without him choosing it, his body already recognising what his mind was still catching up to.

“I just had her,” he managed, the words pulled out of him between breaths, not denial but disbelief at the speed of it. His eyes flicked instinctively across the room towards Amelia, catching sight of her being checked and hearing her cry again, and the sheer impossibility of having only just met one daughter while his body was already bringing another down almost made him laugh. There wasn't time for it to become anything more than a breathless, disbelieving sound before the next wave built underneath everything else, and Eddie didn’t let that sit unanswered, his grip steady, his voice grounded as he said, “I know, I know, just stay with me,” not correcting him, not arguing the reality, just anchoring him where he was as the next wave built underneath everything else. Across the room, Amelia’s cry carried again, strong and steady, a reminder of what had just happened even as something else was now happening again, and Buck let out a breath that almost broke into a disbelieving sound before it caught, his body already shifting back into that same rhythm it had only just left, the pressure building in a way that didn’t wait for permission. The midwife was already adjusting around him, her tone steady as she said, “You’re going to need to push again,” not asking, not suggesting, just stating what his body had already decided, and Buck’s hand tightened instinctively where it braced, his breathing dropping lower as he nodded faintly, the reality of it settling in not as something to question but something to move through.

The room didn’t fracture, didn’t rush, but everything sharpened again, the same calm efficiency redirecting entirely onto him, because even though one baby had just been born, another was already there, already present, already making itself known in a way that couldn’t be ignored or delayed.

The room didn’t need to be told to shift again, it simply did, the same calm, practised rhythm tightening back around Buck as his body moved ahead of any decision, the pressure building low and immediate in a way that didn’t leave space for disbelief to linger, and before anything else could take over the midwife glanced towards the student and said, “Go and call neonates, let them know we’ve got a second baby coming,” her tone steady, not urgent but clear enough that it carried weight. The student didn’t hesitate, moving quickly, and Eddie’s attention flicked up at the instruction even as his hand stayed firm at Buck’s back, the question coming out grounded rather than alarmed, “Why neonates, they’re full term,” and the midwife answered without breaking focus, “Just for support, it’s a concealed twin, we bring them in so we’ve got extra hands if we need them,” the explanation simple, practised, enough to settle it without lingering. Eddie nodded once, but the explanation didn't settle completely. His eyes flicked briefly towards Buck and then across the room towards Amelia, as though the reality of what the midwife had just said needed a second to land properly. A concealed twin, another baby they hadn't known was there, another daughter already moving through the same room that Amelia had only just entered. He looked back at Buck, taking in the way he was already being pulled back into the work of labour, and something in his expression shifted from surprise into recognition, the understanding that they weren't going to get a moment to stop and process any of this yet. Instead of settling immediately back into stillness he glanced towards Buck’s phone, the music still playing quietly in the background, and something in him aligned with the moment in a way that didn’t need to be spoken first, a memory clicking into place as he stepped just half a pace away without leaving Buck’s reach, scrolling with certainty rather than hesitation before selecting the exact track he knew by heart.

The change in music settled into the room rather than interrupting it, the opening notes sliding in with a familiarity that landed almost immediately, and Buck caught it even through everything else, his breath hitching as recognition cut through the pressure building underneath him, a strained, disbelieving “no way” slipping out before he could stop it. Eddie was already back at his side, his hand returning to Buck’s back in the same steady pressure, his voice low as he leaned in and said, “Same one,” not needing to explain further, and Buck let out a breath that almost broke into a laugh before it caught on the next contraction. “You’re serious,” the words were pulled out of him as his body shifted forward, and Eddie answered just as quietly, “Both of them,” his hand pressing more firmly as Buck leaned into him. For a second Buck's expression changed, the disbelief giving way to something warmer as the pattern became impossible to miss: Chris had arrived to that song, and now Amelia had arrived to it too, while this second baby was already following the same path. “Both of them,” Buck repeated under his breath, the words almost lost beneath the next breath he drew, but the recognition was there before the contraction took him fully again, the connection anchoring everything else that was about to happen.

The contraction took hold properly then, Buck’s body responding without hesitation, his posture changing instinctively as his grip tightened sharply around Eddie’s and his breathing dropped into that same deep, controlled rhythm without needing to be told, his focus narrowing completely as he followed the pull downward. “Okay,” he breathed, not questioning it now, just grounding himself as the sensation took over, and the midwife stayed steady, her voice close and clear as she said, “That’s it, your body knows what to do, go with it,” while Eddie didn’t move, his presence unchanged, his voice low and constant near him, “I’ve got you, just like before,” anchoring him in something familiar even as everything moved faster. The push came naturally with the contraction, Buck leaning fully into it, the effort immediate this time, his body already primed, the rhythm returning without needing to be relearned as he directed everything downward.

The music carried through the room, steady and familiar, threading through the intensity in a way that grounded rather than distracted, and Buck held onto it without thinking, his breathing falling into its rhythm where it could as the next contraction built almost immediately behind the first, leaving barely any space to recover. “It’s quicker,” he managed between breaths, the words tight but grounded. He barely had time to draw another breath before the next contraction was already gathering underneath him, the lack of recovery making the difference impossible to ignore. Eddie answered immediately, “Yeah, it is, but you’ve got this,” not dismissing it, just holding him steady as Buck followed it again, pushing without hesitation as everything aligned around the speed of what was happening, calm but undeniably focused, the momentum already in motion and carrying them forward without pause.

The momentum didn’t ease, it carried straight through, Buck already inside it again in a way that didn’t leave space to question how quickly everything had turned, his body taking over with a familiarity that made the second stage feel sharper, more immediate, his breathing already set before the next contraction fully took hold. He leaned forward instinctively, one hand locked tight around Eddie’s, the other braced as he followed the pressure down without hesitation, the rhythm returning without needing to be rebuilt. “Okay,” he breathed, grounding himself in it as the midwife stayed steady, her voice close and clear as she said, “That’s it, just like before, don’t fight it,” and Buck didn’t, pushing with the contraction as it held him there, the effort visible in the way his whole body engaged, no holding back now because there was no space left to do that. Eddie stayed exactly where he needed to be, one hand firm at Buck’s back, his voice low and constant near him as he said, “You’re doing it, just like before,” anchoring him in something known while everything else moved faster.

It didn’t take long for the shift to come, the pressure building into that same sharp, focused sensation, Buck’s breath catching slightly as he recognised it even before he said anything, his voice tighter now as he managed, “There,” and the midwife nodded immediately, her tone adjusting without losing its calm as she said, “That’s the head again, small pushes now,” guiding him back into control as the moment required it. Buck followed it, his breathing breaking into shorter, controlled bursts as he eased into those panting pushes, the effort precise, deliberate, the burn present but manageable because he knew it now, had just done it. Eddie leaned closer, his voice softer but just as steady as he said, “Yeah, right there, you’ve got this,” and Buck leaned into that, into him, into the rhythm that was already carrying him forward.

Between one contraction and the next, in the brief space where he could pull in enough breath to speak, Buck let out something that was half disbelief, half grounding, “We never picked,” the words landing without needing context, and Eddie huffed a quiet breath that might have been a laugh, though it sat softer than that as he answered, “We had it,” not needing to say the full name yet because they both knew it, the conversation they’d had sitting right there between them even now. Buck shook his head faintly even as he nodded, another breath pulled in as the next contraction started to build, “We need to know,” he said, the words tighter now as the pressure followed, and Eddie didn’t hesitate, his voice steady even as his hand pressed more firmly at Buck’s back, “If it’s another girl, Delilah Grace Diaz,” placing it clearly, solidly, not a question but not forcing it either, giving Buck something to take or leave. For a second Buck just held onto the name, his eyes closing as another wave started to build, the possibility suddenly feeling much more real than it had when they'd been sitting at home talking about it. Amelia had been chosen because the name had felt right, because it carried Eddie's family with it, but this one had been the name Buck had kept coming back to without ever being able to explain why. “Delilah,” he breathed, almost testing it against the moment, and Eddie's hand tightened slightly against his back as he answered, “Yeah.” There was no need to decide anything else. If this baby was a girl, she already had a name waiting for her.

The contraction took him before he could answer immediately, Buck pushing into it as his body demanded, the effort pulling everything out of him in that same focused way, and when it eased just enough for him to breathe again he nodded, sharper this time, more certain despite the intensity, “Yeah,” the word grounded, real. He drew one more breath, the name sitting somewhere underneath the effort now, something solid he could carry into the next push, before the next push followed through without needing to be called. “That’s it, big push,” the midwife said, her tone still calm but firmer now, and Buck didn’t hold back, his body bearing down fully as the shoulders followed quickly behind the head, the resistance giving way faster this time, the release immediate and unmistakable as the rest of her slipped free.

The cry came quickly after, strong, clear, and the shift in the room followed it, the midwife lifting her without delay before bringing her straight across, placing her back onto Buck’s chest where she belonged. His hands came up instinctively, settling around her with a familiarity that didn’t need to be learned twice, his breath uneven as he looked down, the weight of everything landing all at once. “Hi,” he said softly, the word breaking slightly as he adjusted his hold, his thumb already moving in those small, steady strokes. Eddie let out a slow breath beside him, something deeper in it now as he leaned in, his voice quieter but certain as he said, “Hi, Delilah,” the name settling into place the moment she did, not questioned, not reconsidered, just right. The music carried on around them, the same song threading through both moments, not just coincidence but something chosen, something held, and Buck let out a soft breath that almost broke into a laugh as he said, “Thank you for making sure she did,” the words quieter now, grounded in something that had already proven itself twice over. And this time, when the room settled again, it held both of them.

The moment didn’t hold in the same suspended way it had after Amelia’s birth, because this time the room had already shifted once and knew how to move again, and as soon as the cord was cut the neonatal team stepped in with quiet efficiency, one of them speaking softly as they took Delilah from Buck’s chest, not abrupt but decisive, “We’re just going to check her over,” and Buck nodded even as his hands lingered for that fraction longer, his body still catching up to the fact that he had been holding two babies at once. Eddie moved immediately to fill the space, stepping in close and lifting Amelia carefully from where she had been resting so Buck didn’t have to lose contact entirely, settling her securely against his own chest with practised instinct, one hand supporting her back and the other steadying her head as she shifted against him. Buck watched the movement for a second, his eyes following Amelia automatically even while part of his attention stayed fixed on the space where Delilah had been, the two halves of him refusing to separate cleanly now that he had held both of them. It felt strange to have one baby against him and the other across the room, even though he knew exactly why they had taken Delilah and could hear the calm voices of the team working around her. “I’ve got her,” he said quietly, grounding the moment without needing to be asked, and Buck let out a slow breath, his hands dropping briefly before one returned instinctively low as his body reminded him there was still something left to do.

“You’re not finished yet,” the midwife said gently, her tone steady as she stepped back into position, guiding Buck through the next stage without rushing him, “just let your body do the same again, small push when it comes,” and Buck nodded faintly, his breathing shifting again, less intense but still purposeful as the next contraction built and he followed it without hesitation, his focus narrowing inward once more. Eddie stayed close enough to hold both parts of the moment at once, Amelia settled against his chest while his attention flicked towards the neonatal team, the quiet sounds of assessment beginning as Delilah was placed under the warmer, the checks precise but unhurried. Buck let out a breath that almost became a laugh, the absurdity of it catching him somewhere between exhaustion and disbelief. “Two babies,” he murmured, as though he still needed to say it aloud to make the number make sense, his gaze flicking instinctively towards where Delilah was being checked before returning to Amelia against Eddie's chest. “And I'm still doing this.” The midwife gave him a small, reassuring smile as she said, “You're nearly there,” and Buck nodded, letting himself follow the instruction rather than trying to understand the rest of it all at once.

“What were her measurements?” Buck asked after a moment, his voice quieter now but steady, his gaze shifting briefly to Amelia where she rested against Eddie, and one of the midwives answered easily from the notes already taken, “Three kilos two hundred grams (7lb1oz), fifty centimetres long (19.7in),” the numbers spoken clearly, practised, and Buck nodded faintly, absorbing it without needing to look up for long. Across the room, the neonatal nurse continued with Delilah’s checks, calling out her measurements as they were confirmed, “Two kilos nine hundred and fifty grams (6lb8oz), forty-nine centimetres (19.3in),” and Buck’s head turned slightly towards the sound before he could stop himself, listening to the numbers as carefully as he had listened to Amelia’s. For a moment he held both sets of measurements in his head at once, the difference small enough to make them feel even more like a pair rather than two completely separate babies. He looked towards Delilah properly then, trying to take in the fact that she had been there the entire time, growing alongside her sister without any of them knowing she was there. Then the nurse added, almost as an afterthought but still clearly stated, “half a pound lighter than her sister and just under a centimetre shorter,” the comparison settling naturally into the moment. Buck let out a soft breath at that, something that might have been a quiet laugh sitting under it as his head tipped back briefly before he refocused, “Of course,” he murmured, the words softer now, grounded rather than surprised, while Eddie glanced between both babies, something thoughtful settling into his expression as he adjusted his hold on Amelia.

The midwife stayed with Buck, guiding him through the delivery of the placenta with the same calm steadiness, her attention fully on him even as she spoke quietly to the student beside her, explaining each step without pulling focus from what he was doing, and once it was delivered she straightened slightly, looking down at it for a moment longer than she had before as something clicked into place. “One placenta,” she said quietly, more to the student than to either of them at first, before looking back towards Buck and Eddie, “they’re monochorionic.” Eddie’s attention shifted towards her properly at that, and she continued, “One placenta, one sac. They’re monoamniotic twins.” Buck let out a slow breath, still exhausted enough that the terminology took a second to settle, his gaze moving instinctively towards Amelia and then Delilah before he murmured, “So they really were together the whole time,” and the midwife nodded. “Yes. One shared placenta, one shared sac.” She gave Buck a moment to breathe properly before her expression shifted into something more thoughtful as she said, “I’m going to check your scan history, because I cannot believe this wasn’t picked up,” her tone measured but clear, and Buck huffed a small breath at that, too tired to respond with anything more than a faint nod. He didn't have enough energy left to wonder about it properly yet, but the question lodged somewhere in the back of his mind anyway: how had everyone missed her? She stepped out of the room after that, her attention redirected, leaving Buck and Eddie with the two babies while the reality of what they had just learned settled around them. Eddie let out a quiet breath, something almost like disbelief threading through it as he looked from Amelia to Delilah and back again, while Buck let out a slower breath, his body finally beginning to settle properly now that everything had been completed.

The room didn’t feel divided anymore, didn’t feel like it was catching up. It felt full. And for the first time since they arrived, everything that had begun had finally come to rest.

The room had settled into that quiet, steady rhythm that came after everything had already happened, Buck finally able to rest back properly now that his body had nothing left to give, Delilah still against his chest while his breathing evened out in slow, heavy pulls that spoke more to exhaustion than anything else, his eyes drifting closed for a second at a time before reopening just enough to check she was still there. Eddie stayed close, Amelia settled securely against him, her weight small but grounding, and for a moment he let himself just stand there and take it in, both babies, Buck, the reality of it landing in layers rather than all at once. It didn’t take long for the practical side of him to cut through, not panic, not even urgency, just the clear, immediate understanding that what they had prepared for was not what they now had, and that Buck was in no state to carry any of that right now.

“Hey,” Eddie said quietly, just enough to check Buck was still with him, and Buck hummed faintly in response, his hand shifting slightly where it rested against Delilah, his voice barely there when he managed, “Jess,” the word more instinct than plan. Eddie nodded once, already reaching for his phone, adjusting his hold on Amelia so she stayed secure as he dialled, his posture shifting just enough to balance everything without disturbing either of them. It rang longer than usual, the background noise of kids and movement filtering through when Jessica answered, and Eddie grounded it first. “Hey, it’s me,” he said, steady, and there was an immediate shift on her end as she asked if everything was okay.

“They’re here,” Eddie said simply, and there was a pause before a confused, “They?” came back, and he didn’t soften it. “Yeah,” he answered, glancing briefly at Buck before looking back down at Amelia, “we’ve got two,” and that was enough to change everything on her end, the background noise shifting as she moved, her focus snapping fully into place. “Okay, right,” she said, already adjusting, and Eddie didn’t waste time now that she was with him. “We’re not set up for twins,” he said, clear and practical, “so I need you to help me fix that,” and she didn’t hesitate, just saying, “Tell me,” already moving.

“Can you stop somewhere and pick up another changing table, a wardrobe, a Moses basket, a crib with a mattress, and another car seat with an ISOFIX base,” he said, steady despite the length of it, and she let out a breath that sounded like she was already rerouting in her head before answering, “Yeah, I can do that.” “We’ve got a pushchair still in the box at home,” Eddie added, shifting Amelia slightly as she moved against him, “can you swap it for a Bugaboo Donkey six, we’re going to need the double,” and this time she huffed a small, surprised laugh. “You already know exactly which double you want,” she said, half amused, half impressed, and Eddie let out a quiet breath at that, something softer threading through it as he glanced at Buck. “Yeah,” he said, a hint of warmth under the exhaustion, “Buck loved the look of that one compared to the others, kept saying if he was having twins that’s the one he’d get,” and Buck made the faintest sound at that, something between agreement and too tired to fully respond.

“From the house,” Eddie continued, grounding it back into what was already there, “grab the clothes from the drawers, Buck’s already washed everything so it’s all ready, and nappies as well,” then glanced down at Buck again, “what brand,” and Buck managed, slow but clear enough, “Pampers… Premium,” and Eddie nodded, repeating it into the phone, “Pampers Premium newborn. He’s going to text you the exact ones he wants so you’ve got the right ones.” There was a pause as she took that in, then the sound of a car door opening as she said, “I’ve got it, I’ll go to yours first, grab everything, then head to the shops,” already moving through it without hesitation. “The car seat’s already installed in the car here,” Eddie added, keeping it clear, “so don’t worry about that one, just the second,” and she confirmed it immediately.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Jessica said, already in motion, and Eddie let out a slow breath at that, something settling properly now that this part was handled. “Thanks, Jess,” he said, quieter now, and she answered just as steadily, “Of course,” before the call ended.

Eddie lowered the phone, stepping back in fully, his attention returning to Buck and both babies, his hand adjusting slightly where it supported Amelia as he moved closer again. Buck hadn’t shifted much, still resting back, Delilah secure against him, his breathing slow and heavy, and Eddie didn’t disturb that, didn’t add anything more for him to carry. “She’s sorting it,” he said quietly, more statement than update, and Buck gave the faintest nod in response, eyes closed again now, trusting it to be handled.

The room had settled into something quieter after the call, not empty but steadier, the kind of calm that came when the immediate urgency had been handled and what remained was care rather than action, and Buck drifted at the centre of it, his body heavy against the pillows, Delilah still resting against his chest while his breathing slowed into something deep and uneven with exhaustion. His eyes closed for longer stretches now, his hand still moving in small, automatic strokes against her back, the instinct holding even as everything else tried to shut down, and Eddie watched it happen in real time, the way Buck was tipping closer to sleep without meaning to. “Hey,” he said quietly at first, just enough to keep him tethered, and Buck stirred faintly, his brow tightening slightly before he forced his eyes open again, not fully present but not gone either.

“Phone,” Buck managed after a second, his voice rough and quiet, the word taking a moment to land properly, and Eddie didn’t question it, just reached for it and placed it carefully into his hand, adjusting slightly so Delilah stayed secure. Buck didn’t sit up, didn’t shift more than he had to, just brought the phone closer, his movements slow but deliberate as he unlocked it, his focus narrowing into something clearer despite everything else pulling him under. “Same stuff,” he murmured, more to himself than Eddie as he opened a message to Jessica, his thumb moving steadily across the screen, typing out exactly what he needed her to get, not rushing it, not cutting corners even now. He listed it properly, the same crib they had chosen before, the same storage, the same car seat model and ISOFIX base, the same brands for everything that would touch the babies, making sure it matched, making sure there was no difference between what Amelia would have and what her sister would have, his attention sharp in a way that didn’t match how tired he looked.

Eddie stayed quiet while he did it, one hand still resting steady at Buck’s back, watching the way Buck held onto that task like it mattered more than anything else right now, and when the message was finished Buck reread it once despite the way his eyes struggled to stay focused, then sent it without ceremony, letting the phone drop back slightly as he exhaled. “Done,” he murmured, softer now, the effort slipping away the second the task was complete, his eyes closing again almost immediately.

A midwife stepped back in then, her timing precise in that way that came from experience, taking in the way Buck was drifting as she moved closer, her tone warm but firm as she said, “I know you’re exhausted, but if you’re planning to chest feed we’ll need to keep you awake for this first one,” not unkind, not sharp, just steady and factual. Buck let out a quiet breath at that, something between a sigh and a faint laugh as he forced his eyes open again, the weight of it obvious but not resisted. “Yeah,” he said softly, more acceptance than anything else, his hand shifting slightly where it rested against Delilah as if grounding himself back into the moment.

Eddie adjusted beside him, Amelia still secure against his chest, his presence steady but not pushing, letting the midwife take the lead on this part, and Buck nodded faintly again as he focused, his breathing evening out just enough to stay present. The exhaustion didn’t go anywhere, it sat heavy in every movement, every blink, but it was held back just enough for what still needed to happen, his attention narrowing again, not on the room, not on anything else, just on the baby against his chest and what came next. And this time, staying awake wasn’t about being told. It was about choosing to be there.

A couple of hours had passed in that slow, stretched way time moved after birth, the room dimmer now but steady rather than quiet, Buck upright and properly supported against the pillows, both babies settled safely in their bassinets between feeds, everything arranged with intention rather than left to chance. He looked exhausted, there was no hiding that, his body heavy and his movements slower, but he was awake, present, his attention shifting immediately whenever either of them stirred, instinct overriding the pull to sleep. Eddie stayed close, not hovering but not settling either, existing in that space where he could step in the second he was needed, and when the knock came he moved straight to the door, opening it just enough before stepping back to let Jessica in, his voice low so it didn’t carry too sharply into the room.

She came in carrying a packed nappy bag rather than loose items, practical and organised, with the boxed car seat and ISOFIX base balanced carefully in her other arm, her expression shifting the second she took the room in properly, the reality of it landing without needing to be spoken out loud. “I brought what I could straight away,” she said quietly as she set the nappy bag down with care and placed the box beside it, making sure nothing knocked or disturbed the space, “clothes, nappies, everything you’ll need for tonight,” and Eddie stepped in to take the box from her, setting it somewhere secure before letting out a small breath that carried more relief than he let show. She didn’t pause there, already thinking ahead as she added, “I’ll need to head back out tomorrow around midday, the rest is being shipped, so I’ll go to yours and get everything sorted. I’ll have Mark build it all and put it in the spare room so it’s ready when you’re back,” her tone steady, practical, and then softer as she continued, “and when you decide what colours you want for the surprise baby’s room, let me know and I’ll get him to do that while you come round ours and actually get some rest and be looked after,” the offer sitting there easily, not heavy, just part of how she showed up.

“Thank you,” Eddie said, quieter now, and after a brief pause, “Have you got the receipts,” the question simple and direct, and she nodded, already reaching into the bag to pass them over without making anything of it. He took them, glancing down just long enough to check before tucking them away, not saying anything further, not drawing attention to it, and she let it sit, her attention already shifting as Buck moved slightly on the bed, more alert now that voices had settled into the room again.

“Jess,” Buck said, his voice rough but clear, and she stepped closer, careful of the space, her expression softening as she looked between the two bassinets for the first time without distraction, taking them in properly. “Do you want to meet them,” Buck added after a moment, steady despite the exhaustion, and she nodded immediately, stepping just close enough to see without reaching in, her gaze moving between both babies with something like quiet awe settling in. “They’re perfect,” she murmured, keeping her hands to herself without needing to be told, understanding the boundary instinctively. Buck watched her for a second, something softer sitting underneath everything else, before shifting slightly again, grounding himself back into the moment.

“Can you bring Chris in the morning,” he asked, the words slower but certain, “first thing,” and she nodded without hesitation, already knowing what that meant for him. “Of course,” she said quietly, then added, “I’ll just tell him you’re at the hospital,” keeping it simple, not adding anything more, not stepping into a moment that wasn’t hers to tell. Buck nodded faintly at that, satisfied, his attention already drifting back towards the bassinets as one of the babies stirred again.

Behind them, Eddie’s phone lit up silently as the transfer went through, the receipts already accounted for, and Jessica’s gaze flicked down just long enough to catch it before she looked back up, not commenting, just letting it settle as part of everything else. The room held steady around them, calm, structured, nothing rushed or uncertain anymore, just a space that had shifted to hold more than it had been built for and was already making it work.

Night settled in gradually rather than all at once, the hospital easing into that softer rhythm where lights dimmed and voices lowered but care never stopped, the kind of rhythm that allowed rest in pieces rather than expecting it all at once. Buck was guided into a properly supported position once the earlier feed was done, the midwife making sure everything was safe before encouraging him to lie back, both babies settled securely in their bassinets within easy reach, everything arranged with intention rather than left to chance. The shift into rest was immediate for him once he allowed it, his body finally giving in after everything it had carried, his breathing evening out into something deeper and more stable than anything he had managed since before they arrived. Eddie settled too, not fully stretched out but close enough, angled so he could reach either bassinet without delay, his arm resting near the edge, his body still even in sleep, the kind of readiness that came from knowing he needed to be able to respond even when he wasn’t fully awake.

The first change came quietly, not a cry, not even a full movement, just a shift in breathing, a small restless sound that barely carried, but it was enough. Eddie’s awareness surfaced before the sound fully formed, his eyes opening without sharpness or panic, returning smoothly to alertness as if he had never fully disconnected from the room, his attention already fixed on the bassinets as he listened briefly to confirm what he had sensed. He pushed himself up carefully so as not to disturb Buck, moving with quiet precision as he reached in and lifted the baby with steady hands, settling her against him briefly before carrying her to the changing mat, his voice low and instinctive as he murmured something soft that wasn’t meant to wake anyone else. The process was methodical and controlled: nappy, clean, resettle, his focus contained in a way that kept the moment from becoming bigger than it needed to be, and only once everything else was done did he turn back towards Buck, stepping close and resting a hand lightly at his shoulder, not abrupt, just enough to bring him back.

Buck surfaced slowly but properly, his eyes opening with effort but awareness following quickly behind, his body already responding to the interruption before he spoke, and when Eddie said “Time,” quietly, keeping it simple, Buck nodded faintly and pushed himself back upright with practised care, the exhaustion still there but no longer overwhelming now that he had been allowed to sleep between. Eddie passed the baby over carefully, making sure Buck was fully supported before stepping back just enough to give him space while still staying close, his presence steady as Buck focused on the feed, his body doing what it needed to while his mind caught up more slowly. Eddie used that time to reset everything else without needing to think about it, checking the second bassinet, preparing the next nappy, adjusting blankets, keeping a system in place that meant the next transition would be just as smooth.

When the second stir came it followed the same pattern, subtle and easy to miss, but Eddie noticed it immediately, his awareness already surfacing even as he had only just settled again, and he moved without hesitation, repeating the sequence with the same quiet precision, lifting, changing, resettling, then waking Buck only when everything else was ready, his voice just as low the second time as he said, “You’re up again,” softer now, more familiar. Buck let out a small breath that carried both tiredness and acceptance as he sat forward once more, the words ‘both of them’ slipping out under his breath with faint, tired disbelief that hadn’t fully worn off, and Eddie answered just as quietly, ‘Yeah, but we’ve got it,’ steady enough to make it manageable.

The night didn’t spiral or overwhelm; it moved in cycles that became workable, Buck feeding, Eddie handling everything around it, both of them sleeping in short stretches that added up just enough to keep them steady rather than running on nothing. By the early hours the rhythm had settled into something almost predictable, not easy, not light, but structured. The exhaustion was still present, but it was no longer getting in the way of what needed to be done, just existing alongside it. Buck rested back between feeds, eyes closed, breathing steady, while Eddie settled again beside him, never fully switching off, his body at rest but his awareness still tuned to the room, to the small shifts that signalled the next moment before it fully arrived. And even asleep, Eddie remained close to the rhythm of the room, resting lightly enough that the next small sound would always be enough to bring him back.

Morning didn’t arrive all at once, it unfolded slowly, the dim quiet of the night giving way to something softer as daylight filtered through the blinds, the room shifting from the night into something steadier, something that could hold a moment like this without it feeling fragile. Buck was already awake when the knock came, not pulled up from sleep this time but settled in that in-between state where his body was still heavy from the night but his awareness was clear, both babies fed and resting safely in their bassinets, his attention moving between them without urgency, just instinct. Eddie was beside him, not fully rested but grounded, the kind of tired that came with having done something right rather than left something unfinished, and when it came neither of them startled, their attention just shifting towards the door in quiet understanding of what was about to happen.

Jessica stepped in first, her presence steady as ever, but it was Chris just behind her that changed the shape of the room entirely, her hand loosely holding his at first before he stepped forward on his own, pausing just inside as he took everything in properly. He didn’t rush, didn’t speak immediately, his gaze moving in a careful path from Buck to Eddie and then to the bassinets, taking each part in as the weight of what he was seeing settled without anyone needing to explain it. Eddie was the first to speak, his voice softer than it had been all night but carrying something unmistakably warm. “Hey, bud,” he said, and Chris looked at him for a second before taking a few slow steps further into the room, drawn forward by something quieter than excitement, something more thoughtful, more aware.

Buck watched him the entire time, something shifting in his expression that hadn’t been there before, not exhaustion, not relief, but a deeper kind of emotion that came from seeing his son here, in this moment, and when Chris got close enough he didn’t rush him, didn’t overwhelm him with information, just said, “Come here,” gently, giving him the space to choose how close he wanted to be. Chris moved to the side of the bed, close enough now to see properly, his eyes widening slightly as he looked between the two bassinets, his attention flicking back and forth like he was trying to make sense of it in real time. “That’s… that’s my sister,” he said slowly, careful with the words, like he was testing them out, and Eddie let out a quiet breath that almost landed as a laugh, not at him but at the moment itself. “Yeah,” he said, glancing briefly at Buck before looking back at Chris, “you’ve got two,” and that was where it landed fully, the realisation settling in with a kind of quiet shock that didn’t need to be loud to be big.

“Two?” Chris repeated, his voice softer now, and Buck nodded, a faint huff of breath leaving him, warmer than anything he’d managed since the birth. “Yeah,” he said gently, letting the word sit, letting Chris catch up to it without rushing him forward. Chris didn’t speak straight away after that, didn’t move either, just stood there for a moment longer as it settled, before stepping closer again, this time with the hesitation beginning to ease. His attention fixed on the closest bassinet first, leaning just enough to see properly, his voice quieter when he said, “They’re really small,” not surprised so much as grounding himself in what he could understand, and Eddie nodded beside him, matching that tone. “Yeah, they are,” he said, not adding more, just letting Chris build his own understanding at his own pace.

Buck shifted slightly then, not to interrupt but to guide, making sure everything stayed safe as he adjusted his position just enough for Chris to see both babies clearly, his voice softer when he added, “We picked her name,” glancing briefly towards Delilah’s bassinet, “Delilah,” letting it land without overexplaining it, and Chris nodded slowly, repeating it under his breath like he was committing it to memory, the name settling into place as part of the reality he was building. Buck watched that for a second, something in his expression easing further, before his attention shifted briefly to Jessica, something more practical threading back in without breaking the moment. “Purple,” he said, voice still rough but clearer now, and when she looked at him he added, “for her room,” a small decision, but one that made the reality of the second nursery feel more immediate.

Jessica nodded immediately, like it had already been decided, a faint smile settling as she said, “Purple it is,” before stepping slightly further into the room, her presence still careful not to take over but no longer held back at the doorway. “I’ll head back around midday,” she added, her tone practical but warm, “the rest is being delivered, so I’ll get everything sorted and have Mark build it all, then set it up in the spare room so it’s ready,” her gaze flicking to Eddie as she continued, “I’ll send you pictures as it comes together so you can see how it’s looking,” keeping them connected to it even while they were here. Eddie nodded, something grateful settling in his expression without needing to be said out loud.

“I’ll leave him with you for a bit,” she said then, her hand resting lightly on Chris’s shoulder again, not pulling him away but reassuring him that he could stay, “give you some time together, just call me when you’re ready for me to come get him,” and Chris glanced back at her briefly before looking forward again, clearly not in any rush to leave. “That okay?” she asked him quietly, and he nodded without hesitation, his attention already back on the bassinets, already settling into this new space in a way that felt natural rather than forced.

The room didn’t feel fragile, didn’t feel like something that could break if handled wrong, it felt steady, full in a way that held all of them without strain. Buck watched his son, Eddie close beside him, while Chris leaned in just enough to take it all in properly, the moment unfolding at exactly the pace it needed to.

The journey home didn’t feel long, even though it should have, the world outside the car moving in a way that felt slightly removed from everything that had shifted inside it. Buck was quieter than he usually would have been but not withdrawn, his attention drifting between the road ahead and the reflection in the mirror where both babies sat secured, real in a way that still hadn’t fully settled. Eddie drove steadily, not rushing, not dragging it out either, his focus split in that familiar, practised way between where they were going and what he was carrying, the weight of it not overwhelming, just present. Chris sat in the back, closer to them now than he had been before, his gaze moving between his sisters in a way that was still new, still careful, like he was learning them already without quite knowing how. No one filled the silence because it didn’t need filling. It wasn’t empty; it was full in a way that made words unnecessary, and by the time they pulled up outside the house, it felt less like arriving somewhere new and more like bringing something back that had always been meant to be there.

Eddie moved first, not out of urgency but because it made sense, lifting one car seat carefully before circling back for the second. His movements were deliberate, making sure everything stayed steady, while Buck took his time getting out, his body still recovering, still catching up after everything it had done, but grounded now in a way that held him upright. Chris hovered close without getting in the way, his awareness sharper than usual, watching how everything was handled, where he could step in and where he should stay back, already adjusting to the shape of things without needing to be told. The front door opened easily, familiar in a way that anchored the moment straight away, and when they stepped inside, the house didn’t feel unprepared or lacking. It didn’t feel like something they needed to fix before it could hold what they had brought home; it felt ready, like everything Buck had spent weeks building towards had settled into place exactly when it needed to.

It wasn’t the big things that caught Buck first, not the rooms or the layout or even the quiet of the house. It was something smaller, more practical, the laundry room door slightly ajar as he moved past it, just enough to catch his attention without stopping him completely. He paused then, properly this time, shifting just enough to look inside, and the breath he let out came slow and quiet as he took it in, bags set neatly where they would be found, new clothes already washed, folded and sorted in a way that matched everything he had done himself before they left, nappies stacked in clean, accessible rows, nothing out of place, nothing left undone. It wasn’t showy, and it wasn’t meant to impress. It was functional in the exact way he needed it to be, and that made it land harder, the understanding settling in immediately without needing to be said out loud. “She’s been here,” he said softly, not surprised, just acknowledging it, and Eddie glanced over briefly, nodding once in quiet agreement. “Yeah,” he answered, because of course she had. That was exactly how she showed up.

They didn’t stop there or linger in the hallway longer than needed. The movement carried them further in, up the stairs and into the space that had been waiting for them, and it was only when Buck stepped fully into the nursery that everything shifted again, not sharply, not in a way that pulled him out of himself, but in something deeper, something that made him stop completely. His gaze lifted slowly, taking it in piece by piece rather than all at once, the colour on the walls first, soft but unmistakable, and then the detail that sat at the centre of it, something that hadn’t been there before: her name, Delilah, written in script across the wall, careful and deliberate, not rushed, not temporary, something that had been chosen and placed with intention. When his gaze shifted towards the other room, the connection settled fully, Amelia’s name mirrored the same way, but the colours reversed, each room carrying something of the other without making them identical, linked without erasing who they were as individuals.

Buck stepped further into the room without fully realising he’d moved, his hand brushing lightly against the wall beneath the lettering. The breath he let out was slow and unsteady, the surprise giving way to something heavier as he took in what had been done for them. It wasn’t just decoration. It was the thought behind it, the way each girl had her own space, her own identity, while still carrying that visible connection to the other, something intentional, something lasting. Eddie stepped in behind him, one of the car seats still in hand, his gaze following Buck’s before moving around the room, taking in the rest of it, the setup, the detail, the care. “She didn’t just set it up,” he said quietly, not needing to expand on it, and Buck shook his head faintly, a small, almost disbelieving breath leaving him. “No,” he answered, softer now. “She finished it,” the word settling into place with everything it carried.

Chris moved in after them, slower this time, his attention catching on the names before anything else, then the script and the colours, the way the rooms reflected each other without being the same. He stepped closer, careful but curious, pointing slightly without touching. “That’s hers,” he said quietly, grounding it in something simple, something he could understand, then glancing towards the other room. “And that’s hers.” The distinction was clear in his mind even if everything else was still new. Buck turned slightly at that, looking at him properly, something warmer settling into his expression again, something steadier. “Yeah,” he said gently. “They’ve both got their own space,” and Chris nodded, satisfied, already accepting it as part of how things were now.

The house didn’t feel like it needed adjusting anymore. It didn’t feel like something they had to make ready before they could live in it. It already was. And this time, when they stepped fully inside with both of their daughters, there was no part of it that felt unfinished, no sense of something still waiting to be done, just the quiet certainty that they had made it home, and that everything they needed was already there.