Kendall's POV

…

"Daddy?" James and I both started at the sound of a little voice. I groped around in the dark until I found the button that turned on my bedside lamp. I looked into the little brown eyes of our son Jacobi. We adopted him about a year ago, and now he was a bubbly little four year old.

"What is it sweetie?" I asked, picking him up and setting him between me and his other daddy. James reached over and gently ran his fingers though his short blonde hair. One of the reasons we loved him so much was there was a little bit of both of us in him. It really brought to life our idea of a family of our own. "Did you have another ni' mare?" I used his word for nightmare (hey at four he's allowed to say things like that). He nodded and James hugged him close. I added myself to the hug until we had him sandwiched between us.

"What was it about this time Jacobi?" James asked, ever the logical thinker. He picked Jacobi up and set him on his lap. Jacobi looked up at James, and then at me.

"The kids at preschool made fun of me 'cause I have two daddies." James and I shared a look over his head. I had the distinct feeling that it wasn't so much a nightmare so much as a memory.

"Just preschool?" James questioned the youth. I breathed a sigh of relief. He'd steered the conversation away from the one talk we really didn't want to talk about with Jacobi, not yet anyway.

"Well, in elementary too. Some second graders," he admitted. I sighed. Kids were cruel. "What's a fag?" he suddenly asked. James and I started. We were shocked, to say the least. We never used language like that around here or exposed Jacobi to anything with language like that. "The second graders used it," he said upon seeing our shocked expressions. Leave it to the four year old to keep his head about him. He was one smart cookie, though don't tell him I said that one; he absolutely hated being called smart.

"It's a bad word and we will not say it in this household, okay pumpkin," I said, ruffling his hair and giving him a nose kiss. His little giggles penetrated my foggy mind and made me smile. "Now why don't you go back to sleep in your own bed. You're too big to sleep with your daddies now." He smiled and held up his hands. James stood up and picked him up. "Take him to go potty first," I said, feeling ridiculous at using such a word as potty. "We don't want him having another accident. I don't have his potty mat in his bed yet." James nodded his understanding and disappeared out the door with Jacobi. I rested my head against the headboard. Now that I was awake I didn't think I could sleep again. Jacobi's memory filtered through my cluttered thoughts until it fit itself together like a jigsaw puzzle. He was getting teased for my and James' sexuality.

"This is a real problem." I started and opened my eyes, unaware I'd closed them in the first place. James crawled back into his spot and pulled the comforter over our laps. "Isn't he a little young to get picked on for such a thing? After all he's only four." I heard the steel in his voice, and I knew this was going to get very ugly very fast if I didn't play peacemaker.

"You know kids," I joked halfheartedly. James turned his intense hazel eyes on me and I sighed. "Look he's going to have to develop a thick skin for school anyway." I said, rubbing circles on his leg to keep him calm. "I know you don't want anything bad to happen to him. But that's part of growing up," I added. James finally sighed.

"Kendall he's our everything. Not only the little boy we adopted and love but a living symbol of our future," he finally said, staring off in the distance. "I don't want to pass our burden off onto him when he's still so young." Tears pricked his eyes, and I felt them too. He was right. No matter how mature he gets, right now he's still very young; too young to know what burden he's going to carry one day with gay parents at his back. "Do you think he'll end up resenting us?" James asked, voicing my own thoughts to me.

"I sure hope not James," I said, not sure how to respond. I cocked my head to the side. "Jacobi's crying," I said to James. That set him off. He bolted out of the bed and ran down the hall. He came back holding a whimpering Jacobi. "Sweetheart," I cooed softly, taking him from James. I rocked him gently until his whimpers died down. "Do you know what was wrong babe?" I asked.

"No," James said, sounding puzzled. "I just ran in and saw him sitting up in his bed. His nightlight was still on. He hadn't wet the bed. Maybe he had another ni' mare." I stroked his head and kissed his nose. I looked up at the brunette in front of me. "Jacobi," I said softly. "What's wrong?"

"Ni' mare," he said shakily, confirming our suspicions. "Kids were beating me up and calling me a fag. Daddy, are you and daddy fags?"

Another Look.

"No sweetheart," James said as I smoothed down his hair. "Those people don't even know what they're talking about. Baby," he said, turning to me. "I don't care if he's four and 'too big' to sleep with us. We should let him anyway." I nodded agreement and as James crawled into his spot, and laid him between us.

"Daddy?" he asked and naturally bot of us looked. "Mikhail said that having two daddies isn't normal. But it is, isn't it?"

Once again, another look.

"Well son…" James began, but trailed off. I took the hint.

"Jacobi," I said, turning him to look at me. "Having two daddies is a special thing. Not everyone can have two daddies like you can." That must have made sense to his small preschool brain because he snuggled down and closed his eyes. "Babe," I said softly so I wouldn't wake Jacobi. "Why did he have to ask if we were a normal family? Do we look like a normal family? People are going to judge him simply because we're his parents."

"Baby," he said gently. "It isn't our fault anymore than it is his. Now try and get some sleep."

…

Logan's POV

…

I was up "grading" papers. For preschoolers, that amounted to sticking a star sticker on the top of their artwork. Right now I was looking at family pictures. They all began to look the same after a little while. One mom. One dad. One to five children. Don't say preschoolers don't know what they're doing; they do. I ran my fingers through my close cropped hair and studied the latest picture. Something about it seemed off. Then I realized what it was. In this picture there were three males. The smallest one I recognized as Jacobi, one of my many students. One of the older males was blonde with green eyes, the other brown with hazel eyes. Kendall and James! So that's who Jacobi's parents were. I never saw them at school. Jacobi rode the special blue bus for preschoolers home.

It was quite the picture. Jacobi had drawn himself right between Kendall and James, with both his tiny hands in one of theirs. Behind them stood a white washed house. In the clouds in the unbelievably blue sky was a pair of eyes watching over the tiny family. I smiled and stuck two gold stars on the top, making sure not to cover the eyes in the clouds. I set I aside, but something about it stuck with me. Jacobi was a quiet kid. I never really saw him play with the other kids in the classroom, and on the playground just for my students he sat by himself by the fence. Perhaps I should have a talk with his…dads…about hid behavior. It wasn't antisocial so much as reserved. Perhaps he was getting picked on.

"Jacobi, something's up," I whispered to his picture. "You seem like a good kid. You have a positive home life at least. Why so shy?"

…

Kendall's POV

…

I tossed and turned but finally gave up on the prospect of sleep. I sat up and stared down at Jacobi, my little pride and joy. I felt horrible for his nightmares and torment. Already introduced to a world we've been trying to prevent him from seeing. It was definitely going to be challenging. I smoothed back his hair and he sighed in his sleep. I smiled. Even if everything was happening fast, he was still my little baby.