A/N: I hope this is at least kind of worth the wait?
#*#*#*#*#
Jax was barely awake but keenly aware of three things: the urgent need to go to the bathroom, the unrelenting pain low in her abdomen, and the smell of coffee. She desperately wanted the coffee, but it would have to wait until after the trip to the bathroom, which seemed daunting, given the situation with the pain.
Steve stood next to the bed, holding the cup of coffee in one hand and brushing the backs of his fingers over her cheek with the other.
"Coffee?" Jax croaked out, her voice gravely with sleep.
"Yeah, your favorite Kona," Steve said, smiling down at her. Thanks to the pain medication, she'd not only slept through the night, but through his shower and brief conversation with the team just outside the door to her room. "Kono brought it for you."
"Bathroom," she mumbled, trying to summon the strength to force herself up.
Steve pressed the controls and angled the head of her bed up, slowly. She winced and pressed a hand to her belly, wincing more as she brushed against the incision.
"Shit," she hissed out between gritted teeth.
"I'll get a nurse," Steve said. He reached for the call button, but her small hand on his stopped him.
"No, I'm supposed to get up and move around," she said. "I'll be okay. I'm just stiff from sleeping so long." She used her elbows to push herself awkwardly out of the bed and then shuffled toward the bathroom.
"Your bag is -" Steve paused as she unceremoniously shut the door in his face. "On the counter," he finished quietly, shaking his head. He stood by the door, ready to take action if she fell. Aside from some mumbled cursing, all of the sounds seemed routine.
"Really want a shower," Jax said, coming out of the bathroom a few minutes later. "But first, coffee?"
Steve chuckled and wrapped a hand around her elbow, steering her toward the bed.
"I want to sit in the chair," she said. "Please, I'm so tired of being in bed."
"Seems reasonable," he said. He deposited her in the chair and handed her the cup of coffee with a flourish.
Jax wrapped her hands around the cup and inhaled the aroma, sighing happily. She took a sip and closed her eyes.
"That good?" Steve asked, smirking. "Do I need to give you a moment?"
"Possibly," Jax said. "Do we need to go get Annie and Billy from the nursery?"
"In a few minutes," Steve said. "The nurses are giving them a bath and a diaper change. They said that seriously, we needed to let them do all the heavy lifting right now, and until you're discharged, all we need to do is feed the babies and hold them. That way you'll heal faster and be stronger when you get home."
"I want to go home today," Jax said.
"Yeah . . . they said three or four days," Steve said.
"Seems so unnecessary," Jax grumbled.
"About twenty-four hours ago, I got kicked out of the delivery room while your doctor and nurse fought to keep you from bleeding to death," he said quietly. "I don't think spending a few days here is unnecessary."
She opened her eyes and looked at him. "I'm a little homesick, though."
"I'm sorry, ku'uipo," he said. His eyes lit up and he went to the closet, emerging with her favorite quilt in his hands. "Mary really did think of everything. Does this help?"
She smiled as he spread the quilt on the bed, but her expression turned solemn as she realized he was moving with obvious pain and stiffness.
"Steve," she whispered. "How bad?"
He stilled his movements, hands smoothly absently over the quilt, not looking at her.
"Not as bad as Nick," he said quietly. She could read it in the slump of his shoulders, the guilt and frustration.
"You would have done the same," she said. "He just beat you to it this time. Come 'ere."
He took the few steps toward her as she gingerly levered herself to her feet. His arms went around her, tight, trying not to hurt her but unable to stop himself from clutching at her, one hand tangling in her hair and cradling her head against his chest. He felt her small hands move in soft, soothing strokes over his ribs, around his back -
"You're checking for broken ribs," he mumbled, his face buried in her hair.
"And swelling over your kidneys," she said.
"I thought we were having a nice moment," he protested.
"A nice moment and a quick check for broken ribs and possible signs of late-presenting internal injuries are not mutually exclusive concepts," she said.
He chuckled, the grip of tension that had been squeezing at his heart since he was sent on the mission starting to loosen, just a bit.
"Fair enough," he said. "Want to go see the babies get their bath?"
"Can I bring my coffee?"
#*#*#*#*#
"This is the most I've seen of you in months," Rachel teased, smiling at Danny over the rim of her tea cup.
"It's because both Steve and Jax are safely detained at the hospital," Danny said. He signed the homework page that Gracie had neatly placed next to the coffee maker as a reminder. "I'm sorry, babe."
"This man . . . he was behind so much of everything, yes? The men who tried to make you think you'd killed that child, the attempt on the governor's life . . . all of the horrible things that have happened to Steve and Jax?" Rachel asked.
"Directly or indirectly, yeah, much of it's connected," Danny said.
"And Steve . . . let him live?" Rachel asked quietly, a careful glance to ensure that Grace was out of earshot.
"I know," Danny said. "Steve . . . I have no doubt he wanted to, I have no doubt he was capable. But at the end of the day, his training is going to take over and . . . he has lines that he doesn't cross. That's what makes him, God help us all, one of the good guys. That's what makes him a Navy SEAL instead of a mercenary."
"But it's over?" Rachel asked.
"It's over. Steve's going to come into the office today to brief us, but yeah," Danny said. He filled his travel mug with coffee. "WoFat has been turned over to the International Criminal Court. The Hague. He's in the Netherlands, babe, and he's not going to be able to hurt them, or anyone else, again."
#*#*#*#*#
"They smell good," Steve whispered. They'd arrived at the nursery just in time to help with the bathing process. Aside from Steve's alarm at the umbilical stumps, it went well, and now the babies were in clean, fresh diapers and onesies. A second comfortable chair had been placed in Jax's room, and they each had a baby and a bottle.
"They weren't impressed with getting scrubbed up," Jax said, lightly stroking Billy's cheek with her finger.
"They'll like it better when we can put them all the way in the water," Steve said confidently. He gently placed Annie on his shoulder and tapped her back with two fingers, and was rewarded with a surprisingly loud burp.
"Nice one," Jax said. She repeated a similar process with Billy.
"Now what?" Steve whispered, craning his neck around to look at Annie. Her eyes were unfocused, and she was blinking slowly.
"I think they're sleepy," Jax said. Billy was snuffling against her collarbone.
"Let me put her down and then I'll get him," Steve said. He stood up carefully and placed Annie in the bassinet, then retrieved Billy and snuggled him next to her. The infants squirmed, then settled.
"It almost seems too easy," Jax said. "DId we forget something?"
"Bath, diaper, bottle . . . no, I think that's it," Steve said. "But the nurse said that as tiny as they are, they're probably going to want to eat constantly."
"Shower," Jax said emphatically. "If I don't have much of a window, I want my shower. The nurse promised . . ."
"Okay, what can I do to -"
"Watch the babies," Jax said quickly. "I'm fine."
She made her way into the bathroom, shuffling a bit, and closed the door behind her. Steve heard a soft knock on the door to the hallway. He opened it to a smiling Danny.
"Hey, buddy," Steve whispered. "Come on in."
Danny slipped into the room and glanced around, his eyes falling on the sleeping babies.
"Nice work," he murmured, peering down at them.
"Bath, booty, bottle," Steve said, shrugging. "You were right. It's not rocket science."
"Jax?" Danny asked.
"She's in the shower," Steve said.
"Wait, what's with - what's that face?" Danny demanded. He put a hand on Steve's shoulder and looked at him intently.
"What? I don't have a face, Danny," Steve said.
"You, my friend, have a face," Danny insisted. "Hurt and Worried face. What?"
Steve sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "She . . . she won't let me anywhere near her, Danny."
"Yeah, well, I warned you about that," Danny said, smiling.
"It's not that, it's . . . you know we both have excellent training, we've always checked dressings and sutures and -"
"Convenient, saves you practically living in the doctor's office," Danny said. "Plus we all think you both have a not-so-secret scar fetish. But go on."
"She waited until I was out of the room and let the nurse change her dressing last night," Steve said. "It's just - I don't understand. What happens when we get home? She's never shut me off like this before, it's just . . . it's different."
Danny thought for a moment, chewing on his lip.
"Well . . . maybe that's just it," he said, finally. "It's just different. This wasn't an injury, this was delivering the babies. It's new territory, for both of you. What did she say when you asked her about it?"
Steve pulled another, more familiar, face.
"Ah. You've not talked to her," Danny chided. "Steven."
"Okay, okay," Steve muttered.
"Yes, okay," Danny said. "So, how'd it go last night?"
"Jax slept well, thanks to the drugs," Steve said. "We left the babies in the nursery, but the nurses said they did great."
"Good, good," Danny said. "Steve, you gotta take care of yourselves, you and Jax. That was a good call. One baby, under ideal circumstances, creates a zombie situation. Two babies, after everything you guys have been through? I can't imagine. You're going to need help. Probably even more than just Mary. This thing where the two of them are sleeping at the same time? It's beautiful, but I gotta tell you, I'm not sure you can count on it."
"I know," Steve sighed. "The Harts are coming, when Jax and the babies come home. And it's great, I appreciate it but at the same time . . . "
"You want your life back," Danny said.
Steve looked up at him, surprised.
"Hey, I get it," Danny said. "You don't need to apologize for feeling that way. Just - okay, so remember, Jax wants to get her life back and she also wants to get her body back. So, you know. If she's acting a little weird, just . . . that's probably why."
Steve nodded slowly, their conversation interrupted when his phone buzzed. He took the call.
"Governor Jameson," he said. Danny waited as there was a long pause. "Yes, ma'am, thank you," Steve said. Another long pause. "I understand, ma'am, but there are many reasons why that would be counter productive, not only for the task force, but for the global intelligence community. Yes, ma'am, I'd be happy to."
Steve sighed as he hung up the phone. "Looks like I'll be meeting with the governor before I come in to the office today. She's confused as to why 'Hawaii's Five-O Instrumental in Capture of International Arms Dealer' isn't today's headline."
"Oy. Well. At the end of the day, she is a politician," Danny said.
"A politician who's going to have a hard time getting re-elected, once word gets out that she had a murdering sex-trafficker as her lieutenant governor," Jax said, coming out of the bathroom as Danny spoke. Her voice was hard, with a brittle edge that belied the gentle wave of her damp curls and her soft, worn gym shorts and the beloved Annapolis t-shirt.
"Hey, look, civvies," Danny said, smiling at her. "Not that the hospital gown wasn't a good look on you."
She managed a forced, half-hearted smile.
"Jax," Steve said. "It's okay. I've got this. I'll smooth things over with the governor. You okay? You're hurting."
It wasn't a question, and she didn't bother to argue. He was at her side in two long steps, hands around her shoulders, guiding her toward the bed. Danny pressed the call button for the nurse while Steve tucked Jax in.
"So, meds before shower next time, yeah?" Steve murmured, brushing a kiss against her temple.
"It's not that bad," she said.
"Maybe not relative to rebar or shrapnel," Steve said, "but pain is pain, ku'uipo, and there's no reason for you to tough it out."
"I hate this," she muttered. "I want to go home."
Steve sighed and cupped her face in his hand. "Soon, okay?"
There was a knock at the door, and Danny opened it to allow the nurse to come in. She had a tiny paper cup in her hand, which she held out to Jax. Danny poured a cup of water and put it on the tray table.
"What is it?" Jax asked, eyeing the contents of the paper cup.
"Tylenol three. Standard post-section pain management," the nurse said. "And you should have taken it almost an hour ago."
"I don't do well with narcotics," Jax said. She was trying to keep her voice polite and calm, but Steve could see her hand fisting in the quilt. "Could I please just have regular Tylenol?"
"For post-operative pain?" the nurse retorted. She was a bit exasperated. "Your chart has you as having taken narcotics last night. I'm not sure what the problem is."
"It's a specific protocol, and it didn't include codeine," Jax said.
"If codeine makes you sick, it should be noted in your chart," the nurse said, grabbing the chart from the foot of the bed.
"It's not that it makes me sick," Jax started. Steve could see tears of pain and frustration in her eyes. He'd had enough.
"May I speak with you in the hallway, please?" he said tersely, addressing the nurse. He nodded at Danny, confident that he could calm Jax.
Danny acknowledged Steve's nod with one of his own, and slipped onto the stool next to Jax's bed. He took her hand in his as Steve followed the nurse into the hallway.
"Hey, babe," Danny said, squeezing her hand. "Talk to me."
"I'm fine, Danny," Jax said.
"If you asked Rachel what she remembers most about bringing babies home from the hospital, it would be the haze of sleep deprivation, painkillers, and irrational crying," Danny said. "Maybe we should have warned you. In fairness, it was in the books."
"I thought they were exaggerating," Jax said. "I have a very high tolerance for pain. I didn't think I would feel -"
"How do you feel, Jax?" Danny asked.
"Terrible," Jax whispered. "I can deal with the pain, but - "
"What? What is it?" Danny prompted.
"Everything feels all shifted around, and I still look pregnant, and there's . . . even though I had a c-section there's a lot of blood, and stuff, and - don't tell Steve," Jax said, her words tumbling out in a rush. She hiccuped back a sob.
"Oh, babe," Danny sighed. He wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. "Oh, honey, all of that is normal. It will go away, in about six weeks."
"Holy shit, I'm going to be like this for six weeks?" Jax sobbed.
"No, no, listen - you'll get steadily better and better, until about six weeks from now you'll feel almost back to normal," Danny said.
"Danny, everything looks awful," she whispered. "Not just the incision, it - everything. I used the cream, just like Rachel said, and I'm sure it helped - oh God, it could have been worse, that's terrifying -"
"Stop, stop," Danny said. "Jax, it's okay. This is normal. Rachael went through the same thing. Twice. You're young, healthy, in fantastic shape . . . everything will be fine, you'll see."
They could hear raised voices in the hallway.
"Uh oh," Jax said, wiping at her eyes. "Go look. Tell me everything."
Danny opened the door a crack and peeked out.
"Steve is looming over that nurse," Danny whispered. "It's like he's trying to intimidate the suspect. All that's missing is those funky halogen lights and it would look just like rendition."
"Was I being a bitch?" Jax asked. Her voice was still shaky.
"Absolutely not," Danny said. "She wasn't paying attention to what you were trying to say. Oh, wait - oh, here comes your nurse, Mia. Damn, she made me." Danny waved sheepishly at Mia and closed the door.
"I don't know how you made detective," Jax said, shaking her head. "You're not very subtle."
#*#*#*#*#
"What seems to be the problem?" Mia said, folding her arms and staring at Steve and the other nurse.
"The mom is being difficult about meds," the nurse said.
Steve shook his head and looked at Mia. "She doesn't want to take codeine," he said. "She has problems with most narcotics."
"She took plenty of them last night," the nurse muttered.
Mia put herself physically between Steve and the nurse. "Unless you want to experience the wrath of a special forces operator, new father, and protective husband fresh back from a mission," she said quietly, "you will stand down and change your tone."
The nurse took a step back. Mia held out her hand and the nurse handed her Jax's chart.
"She did well last night?" Mia asked, flipping through it.
"Did great," Steve said. "She slept through the night, no problems with pain, no other issues."
"We could give her the same protocol, but she'd be pretty gorked all day," Mia said. "Not ideal - we want her getting plenty of help but she does need to be able to spend time holding the babies. Hmm . . . let me speak with Captain Bluedorn and the pharmacist. Let's go ahead with a hefty dose of Tylenol and some cold packs for starters. We can piggyback something once it's prescribed."
The other nurse nodded and headed toward the pharmacy room. Mia sighed and looked up at Steve.
"Sorry. I ran late this morning, had to drop my idiot dog off at the vet's," she explained.
"Jax is not trying to be difficult," Steve said. "Neither am I, we just - she doesn't do well with codeine. The nurse didn't really give us a chance to explain . . . okay, in fairness, Jax is reluctant to admit that it triggers flashbacks."
Mia held Jax's chart up. "If that nurse had taken the time to even glance through the chart, you wouldn't have needed to explain. From Jax's physical medical history alone, it's easy to put trauma and trauma together and come up with PTSD. This is a military hospital, for God's sake. PTSD and combat related trauma are the rule, not the exception. A few nurses just don't get it. They usually don't last long, either."
The other nurse approached, cold packs and a new paper cup in hand.
"I'll take those," Mia said calmly. "McGarrett is my patient."
"She was on my roster this morning," the other nurse started.
"She isn't now," Mia said. With a nervous glance back at Steve, the nurse hustled away.
Steve looked at Mia, impressed. "What branch?" he asked.
"Oldest of six children," she laughed. "I'm a civilian, Commander."
"Well, you're a damn good one," he said.
"Before we go in . . . I know Jax is fine, she's with Danny at the moment, he's feeding her intel on our conversation . . . tell me, honestly, how she's doing. What do I need to know?" Mia said.
Steve shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
"Look, I already know something's up, or you wouldn't have been out here intimidating my staff," Mia said.
"She's in a good bit of pain, but I assume that's normal," Steve said. "She's . . . on edge. I can tell. Sometimes when she's having to try this hard to hold it together it . . ."
"Doesn't work," Mia finished. "There is a great deal of generalized anxiety and mood swing that is within normal limits postpartum. Lieutenant Allen wants to see her before she's discharged. We'll let her weigh in before we allow ourselves to become alarmed. Seem reasonable?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it does, thanks," Steve said.
"Excellent," Mia said. "Now, let's get her a little more comfortable, shall we?"
#*#*#*#*#
Steve stood in his office, contemplating his mini-fridge.
"That bad?" Danny asked, leaning in the doorway. "Thinking of taking up day drinking?"
"Politics," Steve sighed. "Always hated them, always will. As part of our briefing today, I'm to remind us that we work for the state of Hawaii. Specifically, we are the governor's task force."
"Yeah . . . well, the governor baited you with finding your father's killers in order to convince you to take on the job, right? Seems to me that's exactly what we've been doing," Danny said.
"Well, apparently we need to start doing it in a way that reflects positively on the governor's office," Steve said.
"You mean, in a way that reflects positively on Governor Jameson, because elections are on the horizon," Danny said.
"Something like that," Steve agreed. He shook off his frustration and melancholy. "But look - regardless of how the governor feels about the headlines, the fact remains that WoFat is no longer a threat to the islands of Hawaii, or to our families. Now we need to talk about what comes next."
They made their way to the smart table, where Kono, Chin, and Grover were already gathered.
"I'll tell you what I can about the capture of WoFat," Steve began. He paused, opened his mouth, closed it again, and shook his head, laughing. "WoFat is captured. He's in the hands of the international criminal court, where he'll be tried on multiple charges of war crimes."
"Come on, boss," Kono whined. "You skipped all the good parts."
"Classified," Steve said. "And . . .. you know, not so good."
Grover nodded soberly. "We're glad to have you back in one piece. Can't say as I like it when the Navy borrows you. They don't always return you in good condition."
"Thanks to Nick, I'm in much better shape than I have any right to be," Steve said.
"With WoFat in maximum security prison on the other side of the globe, what did you mean by what comes next?" Danny asked.
Steve nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. "You've all heard the phrase, cut off the head -"
"And three grow in its place," Chin finished.
"Exactly. With WoFat out of the picture, we have two very serious situations," Steve said. "First, we know that WoFat utilized the Yakuza to do his work here on the island, and in Asia. The Yakuza is world-wide, but there's a definite concentration here in Honolulu. We can expect increased - and highly unorganized - activity."
"The kind that catches innocent civilians in the crossfire," Grover said.
"Exactly," Steve nodded. "We already know that MS13 and The Company are jockeying around the Yakuza - competing for position, trying to create alliances. It's why we brought Grover onto the team. We can expect to have a significant focus on gang violence. I'd like to go a step further - I'd like to explore some anti-gang initiatives."
"Keep kids like Travis out of gangs to begin with," Kono said. "I'm in."
"Good," Steve said, grinning, "because I think offering surfing as an alternative to gangs would be a great place to start."
Kono threw a fist into the air in celebration, and Chin laughed.
"I'm gonna get to surf on the clock, I can feel it," Kono said.
"There's no doubt - these kids are looking for a sense of belonging - a group, a tribe," Chin said, nodding slowly. "Surfing can definitely provide that. Count me in. And Malia, I'm sure of it."
"All of us," Danny sighed. "I'll stock up on sunscreen. Okay, what else?"
Steve paused. "There's the matter of my mother, and of Joe White. Both are unaccounted for at the moment. Joe was tracking my mother. I think . . . she either got away from WoFat, or he sent her away . . . she left some intel where Joe could find it. I've given it to the SAD."
"The hell -" Danny protested.
"Tracking my mother and Joe around the world is not - even if the governor would approve it, which she wouldn't now, not when obviously she's not going to get credit for it - tracking them is just not the best use of our resources," Steve said. "This task force was formed to serve the people of Hawaii. I, for one, will be glad to get back to doing that. I think I've had enough international intelligence and terrorism work to last me a lifetime."
"That's true," Grover said, smiling broadly. "You're a family man now."
"Speaking of," Danny said, "shouldn't you be headed back to the hospital?"
"Yeah, I will," Steve said. "I wish Jax had let me send for Mary when I left. But I guess . . . it has been a lot, the last couple days. I can respect that she wanted - needed - some down time. You think she'll mind me coming back?"
Danny laughed. "I don't think she'll mind. Go, babe, you look like you could do with another nap yourself. Snuggle a baby, get some rest."
#*#*#*#*#
"They are absolutely precious," Stephanie said, bending over the bassinet. "So tiny."
"They sleep and eat and poop," Jax said. "It's awesome. They just . . . they're doing just what babies are supposed to do."
"You're not used to things going according to plan," Stephanie said. It wasn't a question.
"I guess not," Jax said. "Getting them here safely, that didn't go to plan."
"I heard things got dicey," Stephanie said. She picked up her coffee and sat on the rolling stool, facing Jax in the ubiquitous hospital recliner. "You want to talk about it?"
Jax shrugged. "Scared Steve more than it did me. I'm fine."
"Steve told your nurse that you were very guarded regarding your incision," Stephanie said. "He's a little worried about how that's going to go down once you get home."
"I can reach it just fine," Jax said. "I'm more worried about his injuries. I don't think he's told me everything."
"Sounds like the two of you need some real privacy and a real conversation," Stephanie said.
"If I'm ever released," Jax said.
"That's an interesting term for it," Stephanie observed. "Released. You mean discharged?"
"Yeah. I guess . . . I love working, you know, in the emergency department. But I've never been good at being held in a hospital."
"You mean being admitted," Stephanie said quietly. "Though . . . no, I don't think that's what you mean, at all. I think you do mean 'held'. As in, against your will."
"Mia is fantastic," Jax said. "Most of the other nurses, they try really hard but . . . if they knew, if they really knew about the . . . one of them tried to give me codeine today. They're just doing their job but . . . they tell me what I can and can't do. They . . . " she stopped and took a shaky breath. "They bring me everything. My meds, my food . . . even my babies. Everything is . . . controlled."
"Like it was with WoFat," Stephanie said.
Jax flinched and then nodded.
"Okay. I can see how that's a problem for you," Stephanie continued. "Again, once you and Steve have some privacy . . . I think this is something you need to let him in on."
Jax looked over at the babies and smiled. "I'm not sure how much privacy we can expect in the near future. But I guess we don't have to start spelling things out, not quite yet anyway."
"I understand you have Mary staying with you for a while," Stephanie said. "That should help you and Steve find some down time. And the Harts?"
"Hmm, they came in this morning," Jax said. "We fixed up a parking pad and boardwalk for the Airstream. Kind of like a guest cottage. I hope they like it."
"I'm sure they will, and I'm sure they are going to be thrilled when they find out that you named Annie after their family, their son." Stephanie paused, fixing Jax with her calm, no-nonsense gaze. "Jax. What about your parents? Do you think they should know that you're married? That you have children?"
"I - " Jax looked at the babies again. Billy was awake, and trying to work his tiny fist out of the swaddled blanket. "Maybe. When we get settled, when . . . maybe. Maybe sometime, before too much longer."
"Okay," Stephanie said easily. "This is going to be an adjustment for you, Jax. You're recovering from a physical trauma - no, don't argue. You had a C-section and some complications, that's trauma by any definition. And you'll be out of work for a while, at home, with two infants who are completely dependent on you and their other loved ones. It's a lot to deal with - and that's without the hormonal fluctuations."
Jax rolled her eyes.
"Just because you've always been 'one of the guys', it doesn't mean you can cheat biology," Stephanie said quietly. "You're comfortable with your decision to bottle feed?"
"Absolutely," Jax said. "I don't think we could convince Steve to give up feeding the babies even if I wanted to."
"Good. That means you can rest when you need to," Stephanie said. "Take advantage of having the help. Don't try to be the hero."
"Copy," Jax said. "It's easier. The - okay, the pregnancy? Harder. The whole c-section and stuff - much, much harder than I'd imagined. But, the babies? Annie and Billy . . . so far, it's easier than I thought it would be. I guess . . . maybe I do have some instincts, or something."
"Of course you do," Stephanie said, standing up. "Look at how well you do with sick and injured patients, Jax. The only person who ever doubted you - was you. You can do this. You're going to be a great mom."
She stopped at the bassinet again. Billy had managed to free his fist, and was aimlessly smacking his hand into Annie's cheek. She protested with a loud squeak, and he flailed his hand, startled at the sound. Stephanie chuckled and tucked his hand back into the blanket.
"A great mom with her hands very, very full," she added, smiling at Jax as she left.
She ran into a very concerned looking Mia in the hallway.
"Lieutenant Allen, I'm so glad you were able to fit in your visit," Mia said. "We have a problem."
#*#*#*#*#
Steve was still standing at the smart table when his phone rang.
"It's the hospital," he said, quickly answering the call. The team watched anxiously as their leader's hand white knuckled his cell. "Of course, I'll be right there. No, it's fine - we have so many people willing to help, and - yes? Oh. Shit. Yeah, that makes sense. I'll come right now. Car seats? Yeah, I'll make sure I have car seats."
Steve thumbed off the phone and slipped it into his pocket. Danny noticed that his hands were shaking slightly.
"Babe, what's going on?" Danny said. He grabbed Steve's arm to steady him.
"They want to send Jax and the babies home, right now," Steve said. "There's a possibility that another patient on the floor has a staph infection; and if so, Jax is safer at home. Also she . . . " he hesitated and took a shaky breath. "She's not doing well, with being . . . she told Lieutenant Allen that she wasn't doing well with being 'held' at the hospital."
"Shit. Shit, I didn't even think - I thought it was all postpartum hormones, I didn't think of how it might remind her . . ." Danny said, shaking his head.
"Doesn't matter, I get to bring them home," Steve said. He was starting to smile. "I just need to get the car seats installed in the truck real quick."
Steve looked at Danny and Grover in confusion when they laughed softly.
#*#*#*#*#
Steve drove home carefully. Very carefully. Jax shot him an incredulous look from the passenger seat.
"The babies are strapped down like nuclear warheads," she said. "You can take a curve going over ten miles an hour, you know. They'll be fine."
"And you?" he asked softly.
"Piece of cake," she scoffed.
"Nothing about this was a piece of cake," he said. "I'm serious, Jax. You shouldn't even be home yet, you should still be in the hospital. You have to take care of yourself. If you push it . . . you could get an infection. You need to let me take care of you."
He reached over and wrapped his hand around hers. She stroked gently over the bandages still on his wrists.
"And you? Are you going to let me take care of you?" she asked softly. "Are you going to tell me, really tell me, what happened? Are you going to tell me why your breath catches every time you move, and don't tell me it's your ribs. It's more."
He was silent for a beat. "Yeah. Yeah, ku'uipo. We'll talk, really talk, and I'll tell you everything I can. Now's not the time to start keeping secrets. We said we wouldn't. Which is why I . . . what have you been holding back? You didn't tell me how you felt about being in the hospital."
It was Jax's turn to take a moment to think. "I don't think I realized it. Not until I talked to Stephanie."
"That's fair," Steve nodded. He looked out the window, left, as he made a turn. "Are you going to quit hiding from me? Literally?"
"I'm not -"
"Before you even knew my middle name you let me change the dressing on your knife lac, standing in my kitchen, days after . . . you trusted me. You said you trusted me, Jax," he said quietly. "And I've changed every dressing and taken out every set of stitches since, and now . . . you have an incision, from a c-section to deliver our babies, and you won't let me anywhere near you."
"I can reach it," Jax said. "I've got it under control."
Steve sighed. "That's not my point. I don't understand . . . never mind. You know I'll never force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Jax."
She nodded silently as he turned the truck onto their street. As they pulled into the driveway, Jax brushed impatiently at her eyes.
"You okay? What's wrong?" Steve asked, reaching over and resting his hand on her knee.
"Damn hormones," she mumbled. "I told you, I was homesick. I'm . . . we're home. Out of the hospital. Home."
He squeezed her knee as he put the truck into park. "Stay put until I come around for you," he said. "I'm surprised the Harts and Mary aren't standing in the driveway. Maybe they're out back."
Jax rolled her eyes but waited, unfastening her seatbelt as she watched Steve step gingerly out of the truck and come around to her side.
"You're hurt, too," she pointed out, when he opened her door and started to reach for her. She cupped her hand around his face, her thumb rubbing absently over the still livid bruise on his jaw.
"I don't have strict post-op instructions," he said. "I'm terrified that Mia is going to show up here and take you back if I screw up."
Jax laughed as he helped her find her footing on the running board, and then his hands were wrapped around her hips as he placed her gently on the driveway.
"You good?" he murmured, kissing the top of her head. When she nodded, he continued. "Okay, I'm going to hand you Annie, and then I'll go back around for Billy."
"You worked this out on the drive, didn't you?" she teased. "Logistics."
"Exactly," he said. He opened the back passenger door and unlatched Annie's harness. "I think, honestly, this whole thing with taking care of the twins? Logistics. It's going to be a matter of assessing each situation as it arises, and responding accordingly."
Jax chuckled as he deposited Annie into her waiting arms, and then jogged back around to repeat the process with Billy. Within moments, they were standing in front of the truck looking at the house.
"Holy shit," Steve breathed. He wrapped his arm around Jax's shoulder and pulled her gently to him, holding Billy against his shoulder easily with one big hand. "We're home. With babies."
"I want to show them the water, first," Jax said. "Wait, is that silly?"
"No. No, that's not silly, that's amazing," he said. "Just watch your footing on the sand, okay?"
He kept one hand on the small of her back as they walked around to the back of the house, and made their way down to the chairs. Jax tilted her face up toward the sun and took a deep breath.
"It really got to you, didn't it?" Steve asked quietly. "Being in the hospital."
She nodded, tucking her face down to kiss the top of Annie's head. Carefully, she shifted the baby so that she faced the ocean.
"Look, Annie Hart," Jax said softly. "You're home. This is your backyard. Pretty amazing, hunh?"
Annie gurgled and waved one tiny fist. Steve shifted Billy around, holding him in the crook of his arm. His little feet started to kick.
"Yeah? You like the looks of that, hunh?" Steve said, laughing. "Ready to swim."
Billy started to voice his disapproval. They'd learned quickly that he preferred being held upright, unlike Annie, who was content to be snuggled in any position. Steve shifted the baby back to his shoulder, but he continued to fuss.
"Turn around so he can see?" Jax suggested.
Steve turned so that Billy was facing the water again. Tiny feet kicked furiously against his chest, and the noises turned happy. Steve looked down at Jax and shook his head.
"What?" Jax demanded.
"He's got your temper," Steve said.
"No, he's got your fixation with the ocean," Jax retorted, grinning up at him.
The back door of the house opened, and Mary came out, along with Fred and Maureen.
"Wondered where you guys were," Steve said, smiling and waving at them.
"We wanted to give you a few minutes, but then we couldn't stand it any longer," Maureen said, hurrying toward them. She reached out and wrapped Jax and Annie in a gentle hug, as Fred gave Steve's shoulder a firm squeeze. Mary grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet, trying to refrain from demanding a niece or nephew.
"I wouldn't tell them the names," Mary said.
"Yes, and we're just about fed up with calling them the boy twin and the girl twin, so out with it," Fred said.
"Well, let me introduce you to William Daniel McGarrett," Steve said. He placed Billy in Fred's hands. "Billy only likes to be horizontal if he's sleeping or eating, we've discovered."
"Likes to be ready for action," Fred said, chuckling. He propped the baby expertly onto his shoulder.
"And this itty bitty darling?" Maureen asked, stroking a finger over Annie's tiny cheek.
"This is Ann Hart McGarrett," Jax said softly.
"Oh!" Maureen gasped. Her eyes filled with tears as she reached for the infant.
"We should have asked -" Steve started, but then Fred was hugging him, slapping his back with the hand that wasn't holding Billy.
"Nonsense," Maureen said, trying to hug everyone at once, while Annie squawked in protest.
Mary pulled out her cell phone and demanded a picture of the Harts with the babies.
"And now one of you and me together, holding Annie Hart," Maureen said, putting an arm around Mary. "I know she's named for her Auntie Mary Ann, too."
There were more pictures and laughter, until Steve noticed Jax's breath hitching.
"Hey, you're overdue for pain meds and you definitely need to get off your feet," he said, tucking her against his chest.
"Yes, my goodness, we're supposed to be here to help, not wear you out completely," Maureen said. "Steve and Jax, you'll be astounded at the preparations Mary has made . . . the babies' room is completely stocked with diapers and wipes, and there's enough bottles and liners and formula to outfit a small nursery."
Mary blushed and shrugged as Steve reached out and chucked her gently under her chin.
"Thanks, Mare-bear," he said softly.
"I used your credit card," she said, ducking her head. "It was no big deal. Danny and Rachel told me what to get."
"It is a big deal," Jax said, "because if I had to go to the store right now, I think I would collapse."
"I think you're going to collapse either way, so into the house with you," Maureen said, making a shooing motion with her free hand. "Fred, Mary, and I outnumber these little darlings three to two, and they're too little to have any sort of separation anxiety. So, you two - yes, Steve, before you drop also, don't think we don't see those bruises and God only knows what's under those bandages - you go up and have a nice rest. Shower, nap, whatever you need. I took the liberty of checking the freezer and it looks like Jax was doing some serious nesting . . . I've thawed out some delicious looking soup and when you've had a nice rest, you come on back down and get something to eat, and we might - might - let you hold the babies again."
Jax looked hesitant.
"Just for a little while," Steve murmured. "Wash the hospital off us, what do you say?"
She nodded at that, and with a quick kiss on each of the babies' noses, let Steve nudge her gently toward the house.
"They don't have sunscreen on," she said, over her shoulder.
"Good point," Maureen laughed. "We'll see to their diapers and bottles. Go on, you'll hear us yell from the bottom of the stairs if we need you."
Jax nodded and brushed impatiently at a sudden and inexplicable rush of tears.
"Oh, darlin'," Maureen said, catching up to her and squeezing her hand. "Fatigue and pain and hormones - it's a perfect storm, isn't it?"
"I should take care of the babies," Jax said. "But I'm so tired. And I'm so glad you're here to do it. And that makes me feel like a terrible mom."
"No, sweetheart, that makes you a very tired mom," Maureen said, "one who by all rights shouldn't even be home from the hospital yet. Now, the problem would be if you didn't relax and let us enjoy the great privilege of helping you, and overdid it and landed yourself back in the hospital with some sort of horrible infection."
"Put your own oxygen mask on first," Fred said, with a pointed look at Steve, surveying him with a practiced eye. "And we'll talk later."
"Yes, sir," Steve said quietly.
They could hear the Harts and Mary bustling about happily in the kitchen and nursery, fixing bottles and changing diapers, cooing at the babies.
"Take it slow on the stairs," Steve murmured. "Or would it be better if you didn't go up at all?"
"I want my own shower, though," Jax said. "And my own pillow. And bed. And the windows that let in the breeze and the sound of the waves." She went up the stairs one at a time, trying not to hunch over, and mostly - sort of - succeeding.
Pupule was pacing at the top of the stairs. He sniffed at Jax's feet, hesitantly, and then rubbed his big head against her shins. He repeated the process with Steve.
"Hey, buddy, good to see you," Steve said, bending to scratch his head. "You can go down and check out the new kittens."
Pupule made a grumbling noise and then turned and collapsed on his bed.
"Or not," Jax said.
Steve closed their bedroom door behind them, quietly, and then pulled out several prescription bottles from the depths of his cargo pockets.
"Antibiotic, non-narcotic pain med for now, your Tripler-approved-special for later," he said, smiling down at her. He went into the bathroom and filled a cup with water. Taking her hand carefully, gently, in his own, he tipped out the correct dosage of tablets into her palm.
"Thank you," she whispered. She took the cup of water he pressed into her hand, and expertly downed the tablets.
"You want a shower first?" he murmured, brushing her hair back from her face.
"You promised," she whispered, taking his hand in hers, and hesitantly touching the bandage. "Let me see. Tell me."
He hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Okay, but you're getting off your feet," he said. He propped her pillows against the headboard and nudged her toward the bed, helping her get settled. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed, and let her take his hand once more. At her questioning look, he nodded, and she slowly unwrapped the thick layers of gauze around his wrist.
"Shit, Steve," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears as the angry broken skin and bruising was revealed. She reached for his other hand and repeated the process. "Tell me."
"Jax, does it matter?" he asked softly. "I'm here. I'm okay."
She nodded stubbornly. "I need to know."
"It's classified. I can't tell you everything," he said.
"I understand," she said softly. "What you can. Tell me what you can."
"First part of the mission went well," he said. "We . . . hit a snag. I woke up -"
"Regained consciousness?" Jax guessed. "You had a concussion when you got to the hospital. I remember. How?"
Steve weighed his words carefully. "Blunt force trauma to the back of the head. The usual."
Jax almost smiled as her fingers reached for him. He obediently ducked his head down, closing his eyes and sighing as her strong, slim fingers probed gently for the still-present swelling at the base of his skull.
"Rifle stock," she guessed.
He shrugged. He couldn't confirm or deny.
"Okay, you regained consciousness . . ." she prompted.
"Wrists bound, overhead," he said. Her fingers trailed up his arms, pressing gently against the muscles of his forearms, then his biceps. She lingered over the ink, tracing the familiar patterns with the pads of her fingers, before sliding her hands under the sleeves of his shirt and carefully, gently, checking his shoulders.
"There's some swelling," she said. "Anti-inflammatories?"
"I'll take some Motrin," he promised.
"Ice, and heat," she said. "Later. Physical therapy?"
"Ku'uipo," he said, capturing her hands in his. "Nothing a little swimming won't fix. Okay?"
"WoFat?" she whispered.
"Not at first," he said. "But yeah. At one point."
"Your mom?"
He shook his head. "No sign. Joe is searching."
She tugged the hem of his shirt carefully out of his cargo pants. He hissed as the fabric pulled against the burns.
"Show me," she whispered.
He reached back and grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion. Her fingers traced over the spectacular bruising on his ribs.
"Nick?" she asked.
"Much worse," he said. "Broken. Mine are just bruised. He took the brunt of it." He winced again. The rougher fabric of his cargo pants was now rubbing over the burns, just below his waist.
"What else?" Jax demanded softly.
"Jax . . . you need to rest," he said. "It can wait."
"The hell it can," she said. "What. Else."
He sighed and stood up, slowly unfastening his belt and undoing the first few buttons of his cargo pants. He gingerly pushed the waistband down a few inches.
Jax gasped and covered her mouth with her hand as the perfectly circular burns came into view.
"Too big for a cigarette," she said. Her hand hovered over one of the raw circles of flesh. "Way bigger than a taze . . . what the hell?"
"Cigar," he said softly. "It's okay, Jax."
She sobbed softly, pressing her fist against her mouth.
"Hey, it's okay," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and holding her carefully against him. "I'm okay. I'm right here. You know what? I didn't even play it tough. I let it cover the fact that I was dislocating my bad thumb. You know, the one you jacked up your first day on the island?"
"What?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. He held out his thumb in demonstration. It was still bruised.
"Joint's been a little weak, ever since," he said, smiling at her. "Good thing, too. I was able to slip it out, get my hand free of the rope. Things got better after that."
"WoFat . . ." she whispered the name.
"Came close to ending him," Steve whispered. "God, I could taste it. Joe stopped me. Last I saw of WoFat, he was being taken for medical treatment in preparation for transport to The Hague."
"Medical treatment?" she asked.
"Compression fracture of a vertebrae. Or two," Steve said levelly. "Possibly a punctured lung. Couple of superficial burns."
He couldn't stand the haunted look in her eyes, so he continued.
"Nick and I were treated on a Naval hospital ship," he said. "My nurse reminded me of Gus. NIck's nurse was a pretty little blonde. Catherine will eat her for breakfast."
Jax snorted a laugh. "How bad?"
"Broken ribs, kidney was badly bruised . . . he'll be okay, Jax," Steve said. "Hey, tomorrow, we'll set up a secure call. Check in with them, okay?"
Jax nodded. Her fingers traced, feather light, over his injuries. "You need fresh bandages. And antibiotic cream."
"Yeah, I guess," he admitted. "I'll take a quick shower first, then take care of that. You okay? Not sick or dizzy or anything?"
"I'm fine," she said. "I'll stay put."
He kissed the top of her head. "Be right back."
She closed her eyes and rested her head against the pillows as she heard the shower start. Suddenly, she remembered the stash of bulky pads that Mia had sent home with her - the likes of which she hadn't seen since junior high school, but which were essential at the moment. She was halfway to the door when the shower turned off, and not back to the bed when Steve appeared, a towel slung low around his hips.
"You said you'd stay put," he reminded her.
"Antibiotic cream," she said. "For your burns?"
His brow furrowed in confusion. "Yeah, I know where we keep it, Jax." He disappeared into the bathroom again, and she could hear him opening and closing the medicine cabinet.
"I wanted to help," she said, her voice small and uncertain.
He came back out of the bathroom, supplies in hand. "Okay," he said softly.
She was still sitting on the edge of the bed, easily able to reach the burns scattered on his hipbones. He stood patiently while she dabbed the cream on, and covered each burn with a large square bandage.
"Thanks," he murmured, slipping a hand into her hair. "I hadn't bothered . . . that feels better. Much better. You need to wash your hands, though. I don't want to risk -"
"Yeah," she said, nodding. There was nothing for it - she was going to have to ask him to retrieve her bag. She bit her lip, hesitating. "Could you, um . . . my overnight bag, from the truck. Could you get it, please?"
"Sure," he said, reaching for a clean pair of gym shorts. "Of course I will, ku'uipo . . . be right back up." He grabbed a t-shirt and eased it on, then slipped quietly out the door and down the stairs.
By the time he returned, her bag in hand, she'd resorted to combat breathing to try to gain control. It wasn't working.
"Jax, what the hell -" he said, alarmed. He dropped her bag and crossed the room in three long strides as she put her hands over her face, her slim shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back the tears. "Do I need to take you back to the hospital? Are you hurting? What is it?"
He knelt in front of her, feeling completely helpless, and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him, tucking her face into his neck.
"Hey, I've got you," he murmured, cradling her head with his hand. He could feel hot tears splashing onto his neck. "What do you need?"
"I have to go to the bathroom," she mumbled.
"Ohhh-kaaay," he said slowly. "We've lived together long enough that this actually comes as no big shock to me, Jax."
"I want to take a shower," she said. "And I'm not supposed to lift my bag, will you put it in the bathroom?"
"Yeah, of course," he said.
"Sorry," she mumbled again. "Mrs. Hart is right, my stupid hormones are all over the place. A shower and a nap, I'll be fine, I promise."
"All right," he said. He rubbed her back gently. "And then maybe some coffee?"
She sniffed and nodded enthusiastically, and he chuckled.
"Now we're talking," he said. "Okay, let me help you up -" He froze, mid-sentence, as he helped her to her feet. There was a small but unmistakable smear of fresh blood on the sheets where she'd been sitting.
"What -" she started to ask, and then her eyes followed his. "Oh, damn it to hell," she said, tears of frustration starting up again.
"Jax, we have to get you to the hospital," he said. "Wait, no, I'll call an ambulance. Queens. Should you go to Queens? I can call Malia -"
"No, stop," she said, sighing. "It's . . . it's normal. There's . . . it's normal. This is normal. To add to the indignity of still looking six months pregnant, I also have to waddle around with . . . this happening." She gestured helplessly at the soiled sheet.
"Oh," he said. "Oh, this is that postpartum . . . it was in the book. The book, we got as far as what to expect the first week. Sorry, I didn't mean to panic, it just -"
"I thought it would be - well, I don't know what I thought it would be like, but I didn't think it would be like this," Jax mumbled.
"Look, you know I've made tampon runs," Steve said. "Not just since we've been together, either. For Kono, even. I'm not squeamish, or helpless. What do you need?"
"The god-awful stuff the hospital sent home for me," she said, covering her face with her hands again.
"Okay. In your bag," he guessed. "I'll put it in the bathroom for you, then. What else?"
"That's all. I'll feel better after a shower," she said. "Sorry."
He hugged her gently and kissed the top of her head. "You've no reason to apologize. You okay to shower? Don't fall, please."
"I've got it," she assured him. "I won't take long, I promise."
"I'm going to respect your privacy but if I hear a crash all bets are off," he warned her, as he put her bag onto the bathroom counter.
She nodded and shuffled into the bathroom. As soon as he heard the water start, he yanked the sheets from the bed and shoved them into the hamper. He pulled a fresh set from the closet and expertly remade the bed with perfect, crisp corners.
"Thanks," Jax said softly, standing in the door of the bathroom.
He turned, and his breath caught. She was standing there, wearing a fresh pair of soft gym shorts and an FDNY t-shirt. In one hand, she clutched a tube of antibiotic cream, and in the other, a handful of gauze bandaging material.
"Deja vu," he murmured, smiling at her. "The first night you stayed here, you came out of the bathroom downstairs, and into the kitchen. Holding first aid supplies. I took one look at you, standing there . . . I wanted nothing more than to wrap you in my arms and protect you."
"I do trust you," she said, her lip trembling. "It's not that I don't trust you, it's - you're all - and now I'm all - and it's not fair."
"Ah, geez, I know, and I'm so sorry -"
"No, it's not fair to you," she said. "For me to be all . . . messed up."
"Jax, you are not messed up," he said. "You are pale, though, and shaking. Please . . . please, come get in bed before you pass out, and I really do have to take you back to the hospital."
She shuffled to the bed and let him help her get settled. He took the supplies from her hands and placed them on the night table.
"Do you want me take care of the incision?" he asked carefully. "Or I could get Mary, or Maureen -"
She shook her head. "You may as well," she said quietly. "I mean, eventually . . . I'm going to want to swim. Or, you know. Eventually."
"Six weeks," Steve whispered, grinning. "Mia threatened to cut off my balls otherwise. I think she'd do it, too."
Jax let out a giggle, and Steve's face lit up. "There's my girl," he murmured. "Okay, let's see what we've got here . . . "
He gently lifted the hem of her t-shirt over her still-swollen belly.
"The incision is perfectly neat," he said. "I bet it will barely scar." He carefully dabbed antibiotic cream over the stitches.
"I know, it's . . . everything else. Looks awful . . . like . . . partially deflated and . . . " she trailed off, frustrated. "My belly button looks wrong."
"Jax," he said, covering the incision with a long, narrow bandage, "I don't know what you expected, but this doesn't shock or surprise me in any way."
"It doesn't?" she whispered.
He shrugged. "Physics. Mass . . . displacement . . . you know. There were babies in there, I saw Captain Bluedorn pull them out - before all hell broke loose - so yeah. I mean, the last time we were in this room, Annie and Billy were still inside you, Jax."
She thought about that a moment, and glanced down at her stomach dubiously.
"And your belly button is absolutely perfect," he assured her. "What about that stuff you used, that smelled like cocoa butter?"
"Yeah, it's supposed to help . . . after," she said. "I guess it can't hurt to try. I think I'm still going to have stretch marks."
Steve reached into her drawer and pulled out the small tub of cream that he'd noticed her using during the pregnancy. He opened it and dipped his fingers in, carefully, and began to rub the cream onto her tender skin.
"You started bleeding, Jax, after they delivered Annie. And they couldn't get it stopped. You went into shock. You were cold. You were cold, to the touch. They kicked me out of the room and I didn't -" he stopped, shaking his head and blinking furiously. "And here you are, safe and sound, in our own bed. And our babies are downstairs, healthy. Perfect. If you think for one minute that I give a flying fuck about a scar, or ten scars, or any number of any kind of marks . . . then you don't even know me. But you do know me. Right?"
Jax nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do know you."
"Okay then," he said, pulling her shirt back into place. "Then the only thing left to discuss is you telling me when you need that bandage changed, or when you want more of that cream. Copy?"
"Copy," Jax whispered.
Steve tucked her in, just the way she liked, and then cracked the windows open so that she could hear the waves. He slipped into the bed next to her, careful not to jostle her. His hand splayed on her hip, his thumb tracing absently over the long-healed scar there, as he kissed the back of her neck.
She sighed and closed her eyes.
"You made it back in time for the babies," she murmured. "I was afraid you weren't going to make it back. At all. But you did."
"I did," he said. "And WoFat is locked up in maximum security. We're going to sleep, because I don't think I could even recite my service number at this point. And then, we're going to go downstairs, and we're going to hold our babies. We'll count their fingers and toes again. We'll give them their bottles and burp them, and watch them sleep."
"And poop," Jax murmured, drifting off to sleep.
"And poop," Steve agreed. "And then we'll change their tiny, tiny diapers."
"And coffee," Jax sighed. "We'll have coffee. Real coffee. As much as I want . . . "