The day that they found out they'd be bringing home a forth baby was like nothing else; neither had expected their life to be built up on such love and compassion or that they'd one day see a fourth baby to help study at night when school seemed long and dull or to nestle in their arms with a sort of love that was unparalleled.
Their minds were already swept away on what all this could mean and yet it wasn't as scary as it could have been as they tossed names back and forth like popcorn in a bowl when they were younger. She'd giggled over a few more awkward name suggestions as they played novel writing with names. First name followed by their last name; don't forget a middle name.
It felt nearly impossible until one day Marinette broke the water of their conversation with, "If it's a girl, we should name her Emilie." She didn't need to say more than that for an image of an incredible woman who was gentle where gentle should be, tough and nearly impossible when she saw a change that she wanted to make, and beautiful enough to light up a room at night. She was his mother.
Adrien couldn't speak, unsure of what words would even come back if he tried, having seen her lifeless years ago when they found her body had killed a part of him that used to remain strong, and being lifeless had never suited his mother. Just, she was incredible, beyond all understanding; she'd been the one to inspire Adrien the most before his wife took over that job somewhere in the middle, before he'd married Marinette, and after they'd got closer.
"I don't want to take naming our kids away from you." Marinette looked sad, and he could see the teenager that she once was back in her face; it wasn't as wonderful as those days that joy and excitement brought back their younger years to his mind.
"N-No, no, it's fine." Adrien took a deep breath and imagined his mother in all of the ways that he'd remembered her, remembered baking cookies when he was twelve, remembered her laugh when he'd tried telling her puns, remembered how she'd called him her little blessing. She'd never said much about how difficult all of this must have been from her; she married his father and had a son when Gabriel Agreste's fashion line was just a hopeful dream. She'd went from wealth to near poverty and somehow had found her way back up again.
"She'd love that." It tumbled from Adrien's lips like a revelation, and when Marinette smiled back at him, he felt that his world, his life, had finally come full circle. He could almost imagine that his mom hadn't left, that she hadn't died, that he'd be carrying a young little girl to her side.
"I'm glad. You pick her middle name if she's a girl." Marinette sat down and smiled up at her husband as if all of the world had perfectly aligned itself in this moment.
"Gabrielle," And Adrien found himself worried that his wife would find it weird, "For my dad, because I can't imagine Mom without him even now."
"Emilie Gabrielle Agreste." Marinette murmured, and somehow the way she said that name made Adrien tear up and so, so happy.
"We've got this." Adrien muttered, and there was no question, no names tossed out over whether it could be a boy growing inside her womb.
They were just relieved that she'd been a girl, little Emilie, named for one of the most incredible women in the world and for the man that loved the woman like she was his lifeline, enough to go bad for her before hope became desperation became heartache.
Louis was leaning on the bed afterward, staring at blond hair and blue eyes and muttering to himself, "She looks so much like Emma." She sort of did.
Emma was all blond curls and hazel eyes, like she was trying to look like her dad, but her mom couldn't let that be all that she'd retained. Marinette smiled at her youngest son, "She's the daughter of the same two people."
Emma stared at the bed and announced loudly enough for probably the whole hospital to hear her, "She looks nothing like me." Four years old and already determined to be as unique as possible and a hundred percent Daddy's little girl despite whatever she may say on the contrary later.
Hugo shook his head, claiming with all of his little, seven year old body as the oldest child, just a few minutes older than Louis, that Emma was wrong. "She's so tiny!" Hugo and Louis were only two when Emma graced them with her presence in the hospital four nearly five years ago.
"Yeah, she'll be tiny for a little while yet." Marinette giggled; time always flew by much too fast when her babies were just babies.
"Can I hold her?" Hearing the awe and adoration in her husband's voice when she was holding their newborn baby would never grow old, not even as her heart leapt to focus, and she handed their daughter over to him.
Just seeing the sparkle in Adrien's eyes told her that it would be okay, and no matter how many kids they ended up having, he'd love them all with his type of determination and loyalty, something that he'd never gave up on. His smile also whispered to her that he'd be the best kind of dad like he'd been to their three oldest kids, and that he refused to make the same mistakes that his father had made before him. It still took her breath away, and she knew that she'd love him all of her life.