Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Yet another multi-chaptered story from me.

Zoey had barely closed the driver's side door of her large SUV when she was blindsided by something short and giggly. Wrapping her arms around the attacker instinctively, she looked down to see who was using her stomach as a pillow. A quick glance at the top of a sandy-haired head told her it was Aaron Matthews. She laughed with him and gave him a tight hug, looking over his head for his two brothers, who were coming along slowly but surely behind. Aaron was the most energetic and athletic of the triplets, and was never afraid to show affection for the people he loved best. Even if that meant Zoey's stomach would never sit right again from how often he ran into it. He had a little extra pep today, which explained why his kindergarten teacher looked ready for a stiff drink and a tropical vacation. The three boys had been split up into different classes, to "promote individuality", but having just one of the triplet terrors for six hours a day to an untrained person could be the equivalent of dealing with a category five hurricane. Zoey was sure at least Aaron's classroom looked it.

"Hey, Zoey. Guess what?" he looked up at her with dancing green eyes. He flashed her a grin that was missing a bottom tooth and waited for her response. The missing tooth was new, she mused. It had only been loose when she'd seen him a few days ago.

"You're going to the moon?" she hazarded a guess, unable to resist grinning back at him.

"No!"

"You won the lottery?"

"No!"

"You…got married?"

"Ew! No!"

"Okay, I give up," she shrugged. This was a game they played often, with her making up impossible outcomes and Aaron trying his best to keep a straight face. Aaron had lost today, as he giggled madly. "What?"

"I drew a picture of a dinosaur today and it's really cool!" he released her to dig around in his over-sized blue backpack, finally pulling the crumpled piece of paper free with a triumphant yell. "You wanna see it?" She took it from his outstretched hand and made the appropriate aww-ing and oooh-ing sounds, even though if he had just given her the picture and asked her what she thought the subject was, she would have said a green cow rolling around in macaroni and cheese.

"That's awesome, buddy," she said, slipping his backpack from his shoulder and opening the back door. "You can hang it on the fridge when we get home." She helped him into his booster seat and tucked his backpack below his feet. Fitting three booster seats into her car had been a challenge, and now putting the three boys in their respective seats with their backpacks would likely be like trying to stuff clowns into a clown car.

"How come Daddy's not here to pick us up?" a tug on her shirt tail and another little voice told her that another one of the triplets had made it to the car. She had a brief thought as she turned around that she should feel insulted, but she supposed the comment was well-deserved. Chase picking up his sons from kindergarten was the norm, and her replacing him could only mean that he had left town on business. She looked down to find the middle triplet, Ben, looking at her quizzically. The only one born with his father's dark hair, Ben set himself apart from his brothers both physically and mentally. He was smart as a whip and knew it, often impressing his teachers with his home-grown academic skills. His true passion was mathematics, and already had serious plans to become an architect when he grew up. He was always demanding the reasons for things; his "why" stage had started three months sooner than his brothers and had never stopped. But he was no slouch in the athletic department, either. He and Aaron could often be found on the same youth sports teams, though Ben preferred games that required more fineness than outright brute strength. Where Aaron loved football, Ben adored soccer; Aaron was a star on his pee-wee ice hockey team, where Ben ran on an intramural cross-country team held at the rec center. The boys often clashed over what constituted a "fun" sport, leading to bruises and many tears. Luckily, baseball was a winner in both their eyes, and the spring/summer season at the Matthews residence was filled with bats and gloves and brightly colored Little League T-ball uniforms. With their father hailing from Boston, they were naturally Red Sox fans, with all the red and blue paraphernalia that comes with it. She loved to tease them by playfully rooting for the Yankees. She didn't care either way, but she did it every year just to see the shocked, indignant looks on their little faces.

"Daddy had to go away for a few days for work," she gave him a smile, hoping for one back. He shrugged, obviously nonplussed that his father had picked up and left without warning. It was an often occurrence; Chase was a reporter for a reputable paper and though his work had slowed down considerably since he'd had the boys, sometimes you just have to be where the story is. Zoey hadn't quite caught what lead he'd been chasing this time via his hurried phone message, but she was sure he'd make it up to his boys when he got back. "You're stuck with me, Ace." Aaron gave a cheer; he always liked it when Zoey came to watch them whenever his father was out of town. It was much better than his Grandma, who Zoey knew was well-intentioned but had a habit of dressing the boys the same and treating them like babies.

"When will he be back?" he tossed his backpack over his brothers to land neatly under the middle booster seat. She held out a hand to help him up the steep step, but he waved her off and scrambled up himself, nearly getting kicked in the head by his brother's sneaker. Ben was also the most independent of the three and insisted on doing everything himself. He usually did fine, like when he clicked himself into his booster seat, but being a kid with an independent streak and no sense of fear had been the cause of several ER visits in his short life.

"He said Saturday at the latest. He said he loves you and he'll see you soon."

"Okay," the two boys said in unison, before launching into a discussion about the outcome of a kickball game they had played a few hours ago. She shook her head in amusement and turned around. Her triplet count was down by one, and she scanned the crowd of kids for the missing boy. She spotted him shuffling his feet on the concrete with his sneakers and looking morose. Zoey's heart sank. It had been another bad day at school for the youngest triplet, Noah. School had been rough for him; he was such a sensitive soul. He was so very different from his brothers, and if you couldn't spot him as Aaron's twin in the womb by his sandy hair and green eyes, you would never know he was related to the other Matthews boys. Zoey remembered him as a newborn in the hospital, his tiny ribs sticking out under his skin and wires leading to machines that were helping him breathe and monitor his heart rate. He had looked so helpless in his incubator. Even the tiny blue preemie hat his grandmother had made was big for him, and it slipped down over his eyes. But it was all he was allowed to wear besides a diaper. All the boys had been born seven weeks premature, but Noah had been half the size of his brothers and the only one who couldn't breathe on his own. When Aaron and Ben were given the all-clear to go home, Noah was nowhere near ready. The doctor had explained that there had been an imbalance of nutrition in the womb; Aaron had muscled most of the nutrients from their shared placenta and as a result, Noah was small and underdeveloped. Noah had spent two months in the NICU, and was sent home on oxygen. Since then, his growth had lagged behind Aaron and Ben's and even now was still small and delicate.

Zoey was convinced that this rough beginning for Noah had begotten his sensitive nature; he cried easily at sad or scary scenes and was always concerned with the plight of others. She had often caught him releasing spiders out the front door with the warning to be more careful in the future. He'd rescued an abandoned kitten he'd found wheezing on their back porch. He had valiantly tried to nurse it back to health, and cried for weeks when even Auntie Quinn and the local veterinarian had not been able to save the poor thing's life. He was a voracious reader, and had begged her to teach him to write so he could "get the stories out". Noah had an incredible imagination and took after his father in that he loved to write. His favorite stories to write were ones that involved knights and dragons, inspired by the day she'd introduced him to King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. He couldn't write his letters well yet, and was angry at himself for not being able to get his ideas out fast enough, so Zoey had eased his frustration by gifting him with a child's typewriter for his birthday. Now, the click-clack of the keys could be heard at any given time during the day when he was home; there seemed to be no end to his stories. He kept them organized in a three-ring binder, and she was sure he would need another one very soon.

His sensitivity was met with animosity by the other boys in his kindergarten class. Noah was the target of bullying that didn't stop no matter how many times Chase had called his school. His small size made him easy prey. His teacher couldn't be everywhere at once, and the principal had waved it off with something akin to "boys will be boys" and suggested Noah buck up. He'd come home with torn jeans, skinned knees, and bruises more times than she cared to remember. His father wanted to remove him from the school, but Noah begged to be with his brothers. Chase had compromised that if it didn't stop by the end of the school year, he would move Noah to a different school. It had been two months, and it didn't seem to be slowing down at all. Even now, as Noah finally reached the car, she could see there was dirt on his shirt and there was a fresh cut on his leg. His face was hidden by his baseball cap, but when he looked up at her, she could see a bruise forming on his cheekbone. His eyes were brimming with unshed tears, and Zoey couldn't help but gather him into her arms for a tight hug. Noah clutched handfuls of her shirt like a life-line and laid his head on her shoulder. Sobs shook his small frame as she rubbed his back, and Zoey felt anger rise from the pit of her stomach. She had a mad desire to march back in that school and give the administration a piece of her mind. And she would have, too, if she'd had someone else in the car to watch the boys for a minute. The fact that she didn't was the only saving grace. She would have to mention this to Chase when he came home on Saturday and suggest again that Noah be placed in a different school.

"They were makin' fun of him for bringing Binky to school again," Aaron put in helpfully, patting his brother's foot, which was the closest thing to him. Binky was Noah's blue stuffed bunny that went with him everywhere. During the day at school, he usually stayed tucked in his backpack. "He brought him out at recess to show the girls. They thought Binky was real cute so Noah let them put Binky in frilly doll clothes. Then Jimmy called him a sissy and started pushing him. He said Noah was a girl and a baby for bringing Binky to school, and other boys started hitting him, too."

"Where was the playground monitor?" Zoey pulled said bunny from Noah's backpack and offered it to him. Instinctively, a little arm shot out to wrap around Binky's neck. Surely, no sane adult would let a little boy be used as a punching bag for having a stuffed animal at school.

"Talking to some other grown-ups," Ben joined the conversation. "Me and Aaron tried to tell her that Noah was getting beaten up, but she said that Noah should learn to look after himself. She told Aaron to stop being a tattletale. So he called her a mean old witch, and she tried to put him in time-out. He just ran away from her. She couldn't keep up and yelled and yelled."

"Who's the playground monitor this week?" Zoey was horrified. Usually when Noah got hurt on the playground it was a result of the monitor not getting there fast enough, not them actually ignoring the situation entirely. This was unheard of, and disgusting. The playground monitors were recruited from the PTA; parents volunteered an hour a day for a week to watch their kids and their friends on the playground. It gave the teachers time to clean up their classrooms and plan the rest of the day.

"Jimmy's mom," Aaron wrinkled his nose in distaste. Well, that explained it. Jimmy was an only child and the spoiled apple of his mother's eye. She had never liked the Matthews boys ever since Aaron had bit Jimmy at his second birthday party. It had been an accident, and provoked by her son pinching Aaron until his arm was bright red, but she had never quite gotten over it. It was so petty and immature Zoey could wretch. Of course she wouldn't stop her son; she thought that anything Noah got he deserved.

"So we went over and told the boys to cut it out," Ben continued. "They wouldn't stop. So I pulled Jimmy off of Noah and pushed him. He fell backwards and hit his head. He cried a lot, even though he didn't hit it very hard. There wasn't even any blood."

"And I hit one of the other boys when he started after Noah again," Aaron reached over and gave Ben a high-five. "I hit him in the face and told him he'd have to deal with us if he ever hurt our brother!"

"Then they all ran off. Jimmy told his mom, but everybody had to go in so she didn't get a chance to tell the teacher," Ben finished the story. "Jimmy's a cry-baby, anyway. I bet he didn't even need a band-aid." He rolled his eyes. Zoey was torn between being proud of the boys and scolding them for using violence to solve their problems. She'd usually tell them to find a teacher, but the only one who held sway over the playground wouldn't listen.

"Well, it's good that you tried to tell the playground monitor first," she said, swaying back and forth with Noah in her arms. His sobs had subsided and given way to sniffles. "But next time, try to find a teacher who will listen, okay? Don't hit anybody. It's not a good way to solve problems."

"Okay," they chorused. Zoey walked to the other side of the car and settled Noah into his booster seat. His eyes were red-rimmed and he snuggled into Binky as she snapped him in. He looked so sad. She gave him a kiss on the top of the head and then turned his face to look at her.

"You know what? I think today is an ice-cream kind of day," it was a shameless bribe, and she knew it, but at that moment, Zoey would have done anything to see him smile again. Ben and Aaron shouted their joy, while Noah smiled a little bit and kissed her on the cheek. "All right then. I don't know about anyone else, but I want chocolate."

Bedtime came early for the Matthews house. The events of the day coupled with the sugar crash from the ice-cream had all three boys ready for sleep a full hour before their normal bedtime. She knew they had to be tired when even Aaron didn't protest to having a bath. A quick bath, and then all three were tucked in their respective pajamas and beds. The boys shared a room that reminded Zoey of her dorm rooms back at P.C.A., with Aaron and Ben sharing a bunk bed and Noah having a single bed not far away. Luckily, this room was about twice the size of the rooms at school, and was able to house the beds and various other furniture the boys had had since they were infants. A new edition had been a desk for Noah's typewriter, and the drawers were filled with his stories and colored pencils to illustrate them. Though the house was large enough to give at least one of the boys their own room, the three had been inseparable. Within minutes, she knew all of the kids would be asleep and she would be bunking on the pull-out bed in the den. She didn't mind, but she did wish she'd had enough time to grab her own pillow. Now she'd have to use Chase's, and she never slept well when she used his. It was lumpy and old. At least, that's what she told herself. The underlying scent of his cologne had absolutely nothing to do with it.

She carefully closed the bedroom door behind her, making sure to flip on the night-light, before heading downstairs. She had no sooner flopped on the couch when the phone rang. She snatched it up from the cradle, praying it hadn't woken the boys.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Zo," Chase's voice came cheerfully over the line. "How's it going?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" she smiled and relaxed the receiver between her cheek and shoulder. "After all, you're the one doing actual work."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short. Watching the boys counts as real work."

"Yeah; except there's no 401K and the dental coverage sucks," she teased.

"There's a toothbrush in the bathroom. I'm sure you could scrounge up some floss if you looked hard enough."

"I think I'll keep my dentist. I'm a little afraid to go into your bathroom."

"I cleaned it last month. I think you're safe."

"I think I'll be safer if I stayed away from it."

"Suit yourself," he paused. "Hey, how come I don't hear chaos in the background? Where are the boys?"

"I sold them," she deadpanned. "Just put little price stickers on their foreheads and walked around town."

"Did you at least get a good price?"

"Nah. Just a quarter per kid," she replied, and he laughed. She went on, "No, really. They're in bed."

"Already?"

"All tuckered out, I suppose," she debated whether or not to tell Chase about Noah's incident at school today. She figured he should know. "Speaking of which, I think you need to talk to the school again."

"Why? What happened?"

"Noah came home with a bruised face and skinned knees. Aaron and Ben said he got beat up for bringing Binky to school," she heard him curse roughly in the background.

"Where the hell was the teacher?"

"It wasn't a teacher, it was the playground monitor, and this week was that was Jane Walsh."

"That explains it," she heard him sigh and pause. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"Send Noah to a different school."

"I don't want to split the boys up. They've been together their entire lives. It would kill them to be separated."

"Well, the administration is doing nothing. Noah came home in tears today. He told me before bed that he doesn't want to go back tomorrow. He is terrified."

"Normally, I would say I could talk to his teacher. But obviously that isn't working. Just keep him home tomorrow, and see if you can change his mind. I'll figure out what to do when I come home this weekend."

"Okay. I'll call in sick tomorrow and we'll have a day together."

"You don't have to do that, Zo. I'm sure my mother would be more than happy to watch him."

"No, it's fine," she smiled. "He's actually my excuse to play hooky. I really don't feel like going into work tomorrow."

"You're using my son?"

"You make it sound so horrible. I'm not using him. I'm helping him. And if I get a day off in the process, well…that can't be helped."

"Ah. So sorry," he teased. "I seem to have gotten my facts wrong."

"Well, see that it doesn't happen again. After all, I'm the closest free babysitter you've got," she teased back. In reality, he'd offered to pay her on many occasions. She'd always turned him down, telling him to use the money for the boys. Or to get a haircut, since the bushiness of his hair had never really gone away.

"And you remind me of it every time I ask you," she could hear him chuckle in the background. "Well, I'm headed to bed. I have to be up in six hours for an interview with the CEO of this company. I just wanted to say goodnight to the boys, but it seems they've beaten me in that department. So, I guess I'll just say goodnight to you."

"Goodnight, Chase. Get off the phone and get some sleep."

"Yes, Mother. Goodnight, Zo." she heard the click of him putting the receiver down and then the dial tone. She hung up the phone and rolled over on her make-shift pull-out bed. She should probably get some rest, too. Knowing the boys, they would be up at least an hour before she had to rouse them for school.

She had just walked in the door when her phone rang. She grumbled about the time (well after eleven o'clock at night. Who calls someone at eleven o'clock?) and shrugged off her jacket before grabbing the phone just in time to save the caller from her voicemail.

"Hello?"

"Zoey? Oh, thank God," Chase's voice came breathlessly through the receiver.

"Chase? What's wrong?" she was worried; Chase never called her this late. Especially since lately, his three baby boys had him in conking out on the couch long before even nine. On top of that, there was frantic crying the background. Was one of the boys sick? Wait..not just one baby. Two, followed a second later by the third baby. All three boys screaming, and their father calling her frantically on the phone. Terror gripped her.

"I need help. Can you come over? I know it's late…"

"It's no problem. I'll be over there in ten minutes."

"Thank you."

Zoey had never driven so fast in her life. She counted herself lucky that all of the policemen in town had suddenly decided to take a coffee break during her dash to Chase's house. Ironically, they had settled in the same small town—they had no idea. They'd lost contact briefly after college, and re-connected when Quinn and Logan got married (she was still trying to wrap her mind around that) and he mentioned the café she frequented in the morning. Eventually, it came out that he lived in the same area she did. On the opposite side of town, but close just the same. And now, it seemed much too far apart. True to her word, nine minutes after she'd hung up the phone, she came careening into Chase's driveway. She found the door unlocked, and she walked into a warzone. Or at least, that's what it looked like.

Baby toys and clothes were scattered around the room, and there was an overturned planter in the corner. Ben and Noah were huddled uncomfortably on Chase's lap, alternatively crying hysterically and hiccupping. Aaron was in much the same condition, lying on his stomach on a blanket in the middle of the floor, though his frustration likely came more from the fact that he had just learned to roll over but could not roll back. Zoey took only a moment to shuck her shoes and coat at the door before rushing in to help. She scooped Aaron up off the floor and rocked him gently, relieved when his crying subsided a bit and he rested his head wearily on her shoulder. Chase seemed to be in a stupor; he hadn't noticed her arrival or the fact that his other sons were still screaming.

"Chase?" No response. She tried again. "Chase?" At this, Chase lifted his head, acknowledging her for the first time.

"Zo?" he looked bewildered. He looked down at the children in his lap and to Aaron in her arms, as if wondering how that had happened. What the hell had happened here?

"Chase, where's Janie?" Janie was his wife, and the boys' mother. Zoey didn't know her very well, outside of the baby shower and various social events. And the experiences she'd had didn't point to any overtly maternal instincts in Janie, but surely she should be here at this hour?

"Gone," was the only thing Chase had to say on the matter. She tried to get him to explain more, but he only told her that Janie was gone. Okay, they'd try that one later. First thing, they had to get the boys settled down. While Zoey was no expert on baby care, she had babysat her way through college and had a feeling a nice warm bath would soothe the babies enough to get them to sleep. Aaron was already half-way there, his thumb in his mouth and his eyes growing heavy. She turned on the water in the bathtub, and tested it carefully to make sure it wasn't too hot. She added a few drops of lavender oil her mother had given her to give to Chase, claiming that it could put any child to sleep in ten minutes or less. Zoey didn't know about that, but it had worked for her and Dustin. She put Aaron on the bathmat while she secured the bath-tub rings. The boys were not masters at sitting up yet, but they could hold their own enough to sit in the chairs, so long as someone was watching them (though she didn't know who would leave a baby alone in a bathtub). She scooped Aaron up again and went to get the other boys.

"Chase?" she placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her. "Chase, come on. Let's get the boys to bed. It's late." He nodded and stood up with Ben and Noah. Though she had to coax him through the process, soon all three babies were in the bathtub. Though the tension was still tangible, the crying had stopped. Ben was even giggling as he splashed at the water. Noah was still snuffling, but happily mouthed the rubber ducky she'd handed him. Aaron was on the verge of falling asleep. She quickly washed all three of them while she sent their father to get diapers, pajamas, and bottles. Fifteen minutes later, Aaron was out cold in his crib, worn out from the evening's activities, and Chase and Zoey fed his brothers while they too, drifted off to sleep. When all three boys were tucked into their cribs, Zoey grabbed Chase by the sleeve of his shirt and all but hauled him out into the hallway.

"What the hell is going on here?" she demanded as Chase closed the door to the nursery. "What do you mean 'Janie's gone'?"

"She left me," he said, looking down at his shoes. "She said that this—being a mother and wife—wasn't what she wanted anymore. She had thought it was, but the stress of triplets was just too much and she wanted out. She wants a career, and said with having to be a mother, she won't have time. I believe her exact words were 'I have to get out before my entire life revolves around school lunches and parent teacher conferences'."

"Bitch," the word was out before Zoey could stop herself, though she only had a twinge of regret once it was said. It was quite the bitchy thing to do, leaving your husband alone with three young babies, expecting him to be the breadwinner and both parents, to boot.

"Not really," he said. "After all, she was stuck here all day long with the boys. I love them to death, but all day long with no adult interaction…it would be enough to drive anyone nuts."

"But not enough to make you abandon your children, Chase."

"No, I wouldn't. But Janie isn't me, Zo. Who's to say another woman wouldn't do the same thing? I work all day. I spend more time in hotel rooms on assignment than I do in my own house. Janie was pretty much stuck with the brunt of baby care," he ran a hand through his hair.

"First of all, you don't spend nearly as much time on assignment as you used to. And you worked. Big deal. Someone had to; you have three boys to clothe and feed. It doesn't give her a reason to walk away, Chase. It means she was too petty and immature to take on the responsibility of motherhood. Most mothers love and protect their children with their lives, they don't abandon them."

"Still—" he sighed. "I don't know what to do now. I'll have to put the boys in daycare. I won't be able to go out on assignment anymore…which means fewer stories. Which means less money. Which means—"

"Take a deep breath. You're panicking," Zoey placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "We'll think of something. Your mother could watch the boys while you travel. Or I could."

"I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking, I'm offering."

"And since when do you have experience with children?"

"I have some. I admit, it's not much, but it'll get me through. Besides, it might not even be an issue. Your mother might jump at the opportunity to spend more time with her grandsons."

"Maybe."

"We'll work it out. I'm not going to leave you up a creek without a paddle."

As it turned out, Chase's mother didjump at the opportunity—but to a point. She was getting older; too old to be chasing after one curious baby, let alone three. As a result, Zoey's services were needed, and she had become an integral part of the Matthews family.

"Zoey?" she was roused from her dream by small hands tugging on her shoulder. She blearily opened her eyes, reaching automatically to flip on the light next to the couch. The light revealed a rumpled-looking Noah, clutching Binky and looking terrified. She internally winced when she saw that the ice she'd given him hadn't helped his bruises much.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"I had a bad dream. Can I sleep in here with you?" he looked so little, and frightened, that she couldn't turn him away. A little arm snaked around her neck as she scooped him into her lap.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. Noah shook his head and gripped her tighter. "Alright. Let's try to get some sleep, then." She tucked him in next to her and flipped the light off again. Noah snuggled into her and tucked his head beneath her chin. It must have been some bad dream, she mused.

"I love you, Zoey," she heard him say sleepily. The statement was said plainly and honestly, in the way only children can say it. Her heart melted instantly.

"I love you, too, buddy," she said, kissing the top of his head. In minutes, both were fast asleep.

A/N: Okay, I know I have far too many chaptered fics I should be working on, but this one popped into my head and I couldn't resist. Should I continue or scrap it? And as a note, the dream in this chapter is both a dream and a flashback.