A/N: I'm so sorry, because I didn't update, I just can't relate to the story right now... I'll end it, though, I promise. As an excuse some chapters I didn't use.

Chapters unused:

1)

Parker was bored. Like really bored.

She knew it had to be. She knew she should be lucky, because they'd given her one week at least and she'd already made it to 15 days without any more contractions.

But, god, was she bored!

The first days she'd been tired or sick all the time. That was bad, but at least, she wasn't bored.

Every time he visited, Eliot was greeted with the same long pronunciation of his name. "Eeeeellliiiooott…" Her head was up, but she didn't sit. She wasn't allowed to do so. Sitting was nothing she could do to keep her from getting bored.

She wasn't allowed to get stressed. They were supposed not to make up, no matter how much she wished to do that. Only thing she would get was a gentle kiss on the forehead. Kiss on the lips, if she was lucky.

Eliot didn't really tell her anything cool, when he visited. He brought books and CDs for her to read and listen to. She didn't need any of that. This wasn't distracting. This was anything but fun. Books had bored her out ever since she learned how to read over twenty years ago. The only time she'd read books and actually gain something out of it was when she read to Alaska.

Parker reasoned reading to the twins was something she could do. She made Eliot bring her some of Alaska's books. She found that children's books weren't as fun when the child she read to wouldn't giggle at funny voices or react in anyway. She was convinced that reading actually reassured both of the twins and that they never kicked when she read.

She could've told them she was a freaking unicorn running over rainbows, though. It seemed like everyone just kept smiling at everything she said. They didn't take her seriously treating her like a child. It was driving her crazy, but not in a good way.

Right now, she wasn't only bored. She was also annoyed and very tired.

Since two days she hadn't had a minute of sleep thanks to some fly claiming it. Parker had told them when they asked her about her sleep, but no one made this fly go away. Right now the fly was crawling over the window. Again. The other day Parker had baptized Herbert, the name she gave the fly out of pure boredom, spreading water over the window in an actual attempt to kill it.

Well, it didn't work. Herbert was safe and sound. The twins were, too. Everybody was. But Parker wasn't. She was bored.

She sighed. "What are we gonna do today, Herb", she asked the fly. Herbert scrubbed his tiny legs soundlessly. "Check the TV? Well, that's an idea… at least."

Parker frowned as soon as she'd turned the TV on. Re-runs of diverse stupid sitcoms and stupid reality TV… nah, she wasn't up for that. Sighing she turned it back off again. Her eyes scanned the room and she checked the clock. Eliot wouldn't visit for another four hours.

He wasn't that entertaining, to be honest. But at least he tried. Yesterday he'd left a baby name book for her. She didn't like that not much, though. With Alaska the name came to her in a dream. Deep inside she felt that the same thing would happen with the twins. But without the chance of sleep it probably wouldn't happen.

2)

Clover was fast in learning. Shortly after her first birthday, she started talking. Her first actual word was "I". Nobody would've realized it even was supposed to be a word before she formed her first sentence.

It was possible she'd already said "I" before.

They noticed, though, when at the supermarket she grabbed for things saying: "I like."

Unlike Levi and Alaska, who at that age referred to themselves with their names as everybody else did, Clover seemed to understand "I" at this tender age. "I" wasn't one of her parents or Alaska. "I" was Clover when she spoke of herself.

It soon deemed upon her surprised parents that she loved speaking of herself. She did it a lot. It made things easier, though, because she always asked for the stuff she wanted.

Unfortunately, but probably foreseen-ably, she started speaking about what she didn't want soon, too.

She didn't like needles, nor injections or operations. She preferred the park and playing with Levi. She didn't like doctors nor blood. She liked being read to.

She didn't like the pain of giving marrow. She loved walking with elders holding her hand.

As said before Clover adapted quickly. She learned that saying "I don't like" in the hospital didn't mean anything to anyone and she stopped saying it.

The doctors started praising her for going through all that pain without mourning at the age of two years. She sat still. She didn't complain. She'd learned it would be easier to just let it be. She'd learned complaining didn't help.

She'd learned nothing would ever help.

Clover didn't really understand what happened. She didn't really get why they were doing those things to her. She didn't understand the purpose of it. She knew her parents were always very proud of her when she was done.

There was someone who was related to her like Levi was. But it wasn't quite the same.

Her name was Alaska. She was older than them. She was sick.

Clover met her at the hospital. Every single time they went to see her when Clover would go to that big, clean place. Clover would be placed on the bed next to Alaska's legs. Most of the time Mommy or Daddy and Alaska would talk.

But sometimes Alaska would address her. She'd hug her and snuggle her and sometimes kiss her. When Clover started talking, she'd also talk to her.

Alaska was Clover's sister, but it took Clover some time to find out what exactly such was. She heard people say it. The doctors said it. "Will you go and see your sister today", they said. Her parents said it, too. "It's your sister's birthday tomorrow, will you draw something for her?"

Clover drew her sister a flower. She was two, but she was good at drawing. Anyone could recognize what she'd drawn. Clover reasoned, a flower was a good gift to give as she'd watched her parents bringing flowers to Alaska some times.

Mommy praised her flowers and Daddy said this talent must be something Clover had inherited by her Mom. Her Dad had quite some talent, too, though. He made pretty food.

The only thing they would eat when Mom was taking care was cereal dunk into milk. She claimed this was a healthy breakfast, but Clover could see she liked those pancakes Daddy made way better herself. Clover wondered why Mom didn't make pancakes. She reasoned, this was Daddy's talent. She also reasoned, that If Mom had the talent of art and Dad the talent of making pretty food, then everyone had his own talent.

So when Daddy told her she was talented at art, Clover said: "No."

She knew she couldn't have that, Mommy already had it.

Alaska got a lot of presents. Clover didn't quite understand the purpose of birthdays in the first place. Not that she didn't like them. When they celebrated Alaska's birthday this time, Clover had already been to 10 birthday parties.

This was the third of Alaska's birthday parties. But Clover had been to three of Dad's, too, to two of her own and Levi's and two of her Mommy's birthday parties.

She liked the cake her Dad made for birthdays. It was always another cake, but each tasted better than the last. She remembered her second cake – a blue one, Alice in Wonderland themed. Clover loved that story, though she didn't really understand the meaning. Yet this was the biggest reason for her like. As all the words she heard stuck in her head for what seemed forever, she liked it when she could always think different about the same words.

Clover liked the candles on the cake and how nice it was to blow them. She didn't understand why Alaska's cake had no candles, but it still was nice.

Clover liked the presents, too. She found it was way more pleasing to give than to get, but she also found that this wasn't the usual feeling. Levi loved getting things, but he rarely ever tried to give. Their Mom seemed to love both, as she was always very happy with them being happy. Clover herself didn't particularly dislike getting, yet she preferred making her parents smile with a hug or three simple words.

I love you. Clover reasoned, it meant something very good. Everyone seemed happy when those words were said. She'd learned to be happy when told those words, too, though occasionally she connected them with pain.

After whatever the doctors did to her she was told just how much her parents loved her. Alaska always told her, too.

I love you, Clover. So much.

She was happy when told those words, for that very moment she was. But this feeling would never last long. When telling the words, though, when seeing people being happy about those words, the feeling would last way longer.

Getting was ever so simple. Giving was, too. But if you gave something you would make feel two persons feel good. If you just received it wasn't quite the same.

Clover sighed and snuggled onto her mother's lap. It was getting late, she knew. Absently, she noticed her mother's fingers running through her short, blonde curls.

Clover hadn't really listened to them talking, but now that she was almost asleep, she did. Quickly, she noticed that something wasn't quite right. Her Dad's voice sounded so husky, kind of… strange.

"It'll work this time, I was told", Dad said in this unfamiliar tone.

"Don't get me wrong. It's not you that I doubt", Alaska replied, her voice stern and sober. Clover liked her sister's voice, to her it was almost soothing. She snuggled up some more.

Her Mom shifted beneath her. "It's just this one to go, Ally", she said her voice just as strange as Daddy's. "Just one."

"Like the last one? And the one before?" Alaska snorted. Clover didn't like the sound of that. She considered getting up, getting them to know just how awake she was. She didn't.

"It's a bumpy road, but it's worth your life." Daddy was sitting across the room, Clover knew. But she felt like he'd gotten closer. She blinked just a little to check.

"You don't know that! I've been down this path for five years! Five! It's my road to take and I just can't take any more of it!"

Daddy was sitting beside Mommy now, Clover had seen. She was growing uncomfortable here. It wasn't her Mommy's legs, but the talk that kept her awake. Though she didn't know what all the fuzz was about it didn't sound good.

"You're nine! You'll miss all of it", Daddy argued. Clover knew in which tone he argued.

Oh oh.

"I will? I've already missed five years. I don't know what's there I haven't missed yet", Alaska said. She sounded so sad Clover would've liked to throw her arms around her in an instant and give her those three words. She wanted to tell her, she loved her. She didn't.

"So you want to miss the rest to?"

Mommy was growing quite silent. It made Clover even more nervous. Luckily, they thought her asleep.

"It's not just about me! See, Clover, she's missed three years by now. This is never going to stop. She, too, will loose another three years and another and another… She might not have a choice, but I do."

Clover wondered what Alaska was talking about she couldn't remember anything she'd missed lately.

Clover felt something wet dropping down on her head. Why was her Mommy crying?

"And you of all", said Alaska, "Don't have a say. You're not even my Dad. Don't you feel ashamed of yourself having Clover going through all of this for a girl, who's not even your daughter?"

Clover trembled with her mother, who finally found her tongue.

"Eliot… please…"

"I'm tired. Let's go home", was all Daddy said. Clover felt her Mommy carrying her out of the room. She felt sad, like there was something she could've done to help the situation.

She'd heard Alaska sniffle, not cry, but sniffle when they left and she felt miserable for her.

Clover was just three years old, but she already had an extraordinary mind. It would take her parents some time to learn about that, but it would take Clover herself a hell lot more of time to figure things out.

In that very moment, though, all Clover needed was a hug. She didn't get one.

3)

Clover felt eyes all on her. She didn't like it.