They slept, comfortably to be exact. His arm draped over her hip. Her head, turned inwards towards him, her left hand on his chest. A noise emanated from the nightstand on his side. His eye, opens, and then shuts with a force. Next to him, she awoke too. Her eye, opening as well, but only halfway. She starts to lift her head towards the source of the noise. A year ago, anyone and everyone would have assumed it to be an alarm clock. It instead was a small plastic radio-like looking contraption. It was obvious it was from the 80's, with the fake wood panels on the front of the small device. She started shifting, that is until he stopped her by putting some pressure on where his hand was. She looked into his eyes, him into hers. He then shifted his gaze over to the door. The recognized this silent message and settled back into her original position.
He got up; muscles aching and hearing his joints, protesting the sudden movements. He found the floor and started shuffling out to the hall. He walked carefully and slowly, however, his attempts to not disturb the silence failed when he stepped on the creaking floorboards. Going down the hall, he stopped at the door that was nearest to the stairs.
A year ago, it was an office. He padded into it, opening the door ever so slowly. The environment changed dramatically. Out in the hall, the shades were pulled down, to the point that very little light shown through. In this room, the shade to the big window at the back end of the room had a shade, but light still managed shine through the sides, him blinking a few times to let his eyes readjust. The floor was now a soft carpet and the walls were no longer wood paneling or the old wallpaper that sometimes lined the walls. It was a wall of a very light, almost pale blue, with white fluffy clouds painted upon sporadically. He immediately came upon to the source of the noise they had heard earlier. With a smile, he picked it up, placing it on his chest and keeping his chin to its head. Walking over to the opposite side of the room he placed it onto a small padded table and with a few moves, he was already halfway done with the mission he had set out to complete. He heard footsteps behind him. He was putting a comfortable piece of clothing onto it, fully expecting her to put him arms around him.
When the embrace did not come, he turned around, it in his arms. He found himself looking at the other. This small interaction was never supposed to occur, if everything had been normal. Everything that surrounded them would not even be, if the other had just moved along. The fact that there were three generations in one room was never supposed to be possible. But they had always known that nothing is impossible. He wondered how the universe did not explode right then and there. The other came over to him and took its foot.
"I was coming over to get him, but you beat me to it, Son" the other said. "Walter, how could you have heard him from downstairs? His cry is quiet for a four month old..." the son said. "Well Peter, I looked around last night and found this..." Walter pulled out a second monitor from his robe pocket. "I had one, then I lost it, and got another, but I always knew I had the first one somewhere" Walter said smiling. "Is Olivia up yet?" Peter sighed "No, well technically yes, but I was going to let her sleep in a little, she was already up for three hours last night, so she needs the sleep more than anyone." Peter moved towards the old, patched and tattered recliner and sat down with him. "I guess Charlie wanted some special bonding time at one A.M. ""I'll start making breakfast, Bacon Peter?" "He nodded and left the room, leaving the universe once again right in Peter's mind.