A/N: Whoo hoo, back briefly with a cute little family one-shot! Been working on a few different projects, one of which you should (hopefully) see here and on A03 very soon. In the meantime, enjoy some cute MidLu kids up to cute MidLu kid shenanigans.

Hiro Mashima owns Fairy Tail.

8:30 p.m.

Everything was utterly quiet.

This might have been the norm at a different house around this time, but not for a certain Heartfilia household.

Despite being two (relatively) quiet people, Macbeth and Lucy's children felt anything but peaceful. Especially around bedtime.

But tonight was different.

For once the energetic twins were yawning and rubbing their eyes even before their nightly baths. Slipping them into their pj's was a breeze. Their eldest child didn't even complain when her mother beckoned her upstairs to get ready, the youngest already asleep in her arms. Between baths, brushing teeth, and telling stories and kissing goodnight, the normally overly drawn-out aspect of going to bed was done in all of thirty minutes total.

It was nothing short of a miracle.

This is where the two adult members stood at the end of what was normally a long night. Awake and alert; sitting on the couch after already finishing up the nightly chores. It wasn't even nine p.m.

Lucy turned to her husband, whose face was still in a somewhat shocked state. "Macbeth?"

"Yes?" he replied, red eyes lingering on her.

"All of the kids are asleep, or at least, in bed."

"That's…yeah," he marveled at the stated fact like it was one of the seven wonders of the world.

"That means…" she moved in closer to him as to whisper in his ear, "we have the whole night to ourselves."

The man's red eyes widen at this revelation before a devious grin spreads across his face to match his wife's. "Oh? And did you have any plans for such an event?"

"Oh…I think we both know what we should be doing right about now…"

Five minutes later both of them were sound asleep in their bed, wide smiles adorned on each of their sleeping faces.

10:27 p.m.

A clatter rang out as Lucy jolted awake at the sudden noise. She squinted her eyes as if to banish the thought of the sound far away but another, smaller clatter was heard seconds afterward. Lucy groaned and looked at Macbeth's sleeping form next to her. His sleeping habits made it so that he either slept extremely light or like a rock. At this particular moment, it was currently the latter. Only a faint snore confirmed that he was not, in fact, recently deceased.

Lucy briefly considered attempting to wake him up, but could already predict the futile–and ultimately time-wasting–result. She quickly slipped out of bed and put on her slippers, racing downstairs with a key in hand just in case.

As she entered the living room she found a particularly head-ache inducing sight; a vase that had been a present from Erza upon moving into their new home smashed to pieces, the culprits frozen in the act.

"It was her fault!" Twin girls, not yet seven years old, pointed fingers at identical-looking faces, both of them somehow equally red from crying. Lucy barely managed to suppress a defeated laugh at the whole scenario.

Her two younger daughters certainly fit the bill for the crime. Energetic and curious, the two had been getting into trouble since before they were born, nearly giving their father a heart-attack when their Uncle Cobra had informed him that it would be not one, but two new babies on the way.

"Ok, ok. It's very late right now so how about we all calm down." Lucy rested a hand on top of each of their heads, her smile weary but warm.

More sniffles as the two girls tried to keep from bawling. Lucy knelt down between the two of them. "Do you remember the breathing techniques your father taught you?" Twin nods. "Ok, can you do those with me now?"

The two followed their mother in inhaling and exhaling as their racing hearts calmed down. Lucy was grateful that Macbeth taught all of their kids on breathing, she certainly wished she was knowledgeable about it when she was a child. Eventually, the two calmed down enough to talk without crying (after, of course, an additional hug from mom).

"We didn't mean to break it…Hina wanted a snack and raced downstairs so I followed her."

"Vera tripped and then I went to go help and bumped the pedestal."

"We're sorry!" Twin cries echoed as they clung to their mother, who could only chuckle in dry acceptance.

"It's alright…it's ok. I'm just glad you two aren't hurt." In truth, the vase was something Lucy had considered getting rid of since its arrival (bless Erza in everything but tasteful decor sense) so seeing it on the ground was no sweat off her brow. However…

"Since you two did break it, I'm going to need your help to clean it up."

"I'll be the broom!"

"No, I'll be the broom!"

"You were the broom last time!"

"You two! Your father and siblings are still asleep. And Hinata, Vera's correct. Let her be the broom this time."

A look that felt a bit too smug for a seven-year-old crossed Vera's face as Hinata stuck out her tongue and got out the broom and dustbin. After making sure they wouldn't step on any of the pieces and picking up the biggest chunks, eventually, the whole mess was cleaned up.

"Now I know you two wanted a snack, but if you still want I can make some milk to help calm-" Lucy paused as she noticed the drooping heads of the two, almost in sync with each other. "Ooooor, maybe we should just go back to sleep now?" The twins were too out of it from the adrenaline of breaking the vase and the confrontation to fight back as their mother dragged both of them back to bed. The two nestled into one bed together as Lucy tucked them both in for the second time that night. She smiled at her two middle daughters, struck (not for the first time) in how big they were getting.

"Although, if they get any more destructive, we might have to avoid going over to Uncle Natsu's for a little while…"

She murmured such things as she crawled back into bed; snuggling into a warmer spot with Macbeth as she drifted back to sleep.

12:45 a.m.

Macbeth opened his eyes. It was just past midnight and he could feel magical energy running through his veins.

Because of the way his magic worked, in that it was most potent during the night hours, he often was too restless to sleep properly through the night. This had lessened over the years as he sought help for it through medicine and other means, but it was always a possibility for waking up in the middle of the night.

At least it wasn't from a nightmare.

Trying not to disturb his wife (who seemed to have cuddled closer to him during the night) he slipped out of bed and made his way downstairs for a warm drink. He might as well go over some of the documents Lucy was going to sort through but didn't have time today. An easy way to get into her good graces was doing some of the more tedious paperwork.

When he flipped on the lights though, another figure he didn't expect sat on the living room couch, eyes scrunched up tight. He blinked in surprise. "Estella?"

Estella's eyes flew open. She clearly didn't expect him either. "D-Dad? Why're you awake?"

"I could be asking you the same thing. Is something wrong?"

The ten-year-old shifted her eyes away. "No…" she mumbled, fidgeting.

Macbeth suppressed the urge to sigh. In terms of looks, Estella looked the most like Lucy; with brown eyes and blonde hair that was recently dyed black at the tips. With her hair up in a side ponytail, she could have easily passed for a younger Lucy. And in terms of personality…

Neither of them have any talent for lying well. He thought to himself as he turned to head into the kitchen. "Did you want some honey milk? I was just about to make some."

The fidgeting stopped for a moment. Then a quiet, "yes please" sounded from the couch.

Less than fifteen minutes later Macbeth sat on the couch a little away from Estella as they both held steaming cups in their hands. Estella tried to gulp hers down immediately, resulting in a yelp of pain as she burned her tongue.

"Careful," Macbeth spoke gently. Estella grumbled a little but waited for the drink to cool. He noticed that she (not very subtly) copied his motions as he blew on the drink to cool it down and drank in long, concentrated sips.

"So…nightmare?" He finally asked after he was more than halfway done. Estella flinched a bit and bowed her head. To his surprise, she shook her head.

"I just…woke up around midnight." She admitted. "Sometimes that just happens. So I came downstairs so I could pace around for a while." A dejected tone carried her words. "But I'm not getting any more sleepy…sometimes I get even less."

Macbeth pondered her detailings. "Have you been stressed about anything? School? Friends?" He slid a little closer to his oldest child. "I find it hardest to sleep when I have too many important things to think about."

Estella didn't seem to buy his explanation. "Then why are you always asleep at the guildhall?"

He grimaced. "Ah…well. Usually, it's a little easier to turn your brain off there." Technically not an untrue statement, even if the truth was more "it's easier to find a quieter place to nap there."

His daughter's frown turned into a straight line. "No…school's been easy. And I'm not fighting with any of my friends. It's more like…" She pulled the sleeves back on one side of her pajamas and rubbed the back of her arm. "…my veins are all tingly and funny. Like I feel like I'm running the endurance race at the guild."

At this Macbeth froze. Of course, he thought. How did he not connect it before?

Estella had recently shown magical ability–his magical ability to be precise. She had protected her mother from a flaming idiot dragonslayer when he launched a small fireball in her general direction. Afterward, she had fainted and scared him half to death, but Lucy was confident that it was a Reflector spell she had cast. It was almost enough to make up for making him watch her faint right in front of him. Almost.

But of course, that kind of magic is known for strange side effects…

"Estella, how long has that been happening for?" He spoke softly, in a tone meant to convey concern and not confrontation. He often found himself practicing giving reassuring tones, as he always wanted to convey a sense of open trust to his children.

She tilted her head in thought. "Uhhh, maybe since last fall?" Around the time she cast the spell. He nodded, looking into her large brown eyes and feeling another sense of warmth settling in his chest.

"I think I might know why you can't sleep then, Estella. You see, with me…"

The rest of the hour was spent quietly talking and explaining about his magic while finishing off the rest of their drinks. By the end, Estella was nodding in enthusiasm. "So, since my magic is like yours, that's why I'm not sleepy."

"Let's see what Porlyusica has to say before declaring anything like that…but yes that's a likely reason."

"That's so cool! Well, not cool that I can't sleep, but cool that I have magic!" She rubbed her arms, this time in excited anticipation. "Can you start teaching me magic then, dad?"

Macbeth chuckled and rubbed his daughter's head. "In due time, Estella. You should really go back to bed now."

"But daaaad," she flopped over on the couch, whining, "I already said I'm not tired! And you said you're not tired either!"

"Well, even if we're not tired, it's not good to stay up for too long late at night. Especially for someone still growing." He lifted her up off the couch and took her hand in his. "I never said you had to go to sleep either. Why don't you read a bit and then try and get some sleep once your veins stop buzzing?"

"Mmm, 'k." The hand in his own pulled away, but Estella quietly followed him up the stairs and allowed herself to be tucked in again; this time with a book she had been wanting to finish and the lamp next to her bed turned on the lowest setting.

"Good night, Estella." Macbeth softly closed the door behind him before yawning. He didn't know about her, but he was definitely sleepier now. That honey milk Lucy had suggested to him years ago always hit the spot. He crawled back into bed and, after a moment's consideration, gave a quick peck on Lucy's forehead before snuggling back in and closing his eyes.

3:26 a.m.

"Mommy?"

A tiny, quavering voice followed by a shake of Lucy's side made her blearily open her eyes. "Mmmm, wha's wrong." She gave a half-awake mumble before rolling over and turning on the lamp. Concentrating on focusing her eyes on the person in front of her, Lucy sleepily stated, "ah, Rowen."

A small five-year-old boy stared back at her. Large red eyes so very much like his father's, with equally dark, thick black hair made him almost the spitting image of a tiny Macbeth; something that never failed to set her heart aflutter whenever he struck a sleepy pose very much like her husband. Seeing him here, at this time of night made it clear just why he had decided to wake her up…

"Another nightmare, sweetie?" Rowen nodded and sniffled for extra effect.

"Can I sleep with you two?" Lucy groaned and sleepily hoisted herself to be sitting up. She knew she would have to make a choice. Either convince her five-year-old that his nightmares weren't real and wait until he fell asleep in his own bed, or let him crawl in-between the two of them and interrupt her cuddling. Basically, all depending on how much willpower she was willing to expend.

And at 3 a.m….Lucy's willpower tank was at a stark zero.

Rowen excitedly climbed over his mother as she beckoned him in (maybe a little too excitedly, had Lucy been a little more awake to realize) and quickly nestled himself in-between his two parents. Lucy ruffled the top of his head. "Now, go to sleep ok?" He nodded and promptly closed his eyes, falling asleep in the time it took Lucy to readjust her pillow and settle back in. She eyed her son a little jealousy. Rowen really could fall asleep almost anywhere instantly. It was another skill he and his father shared, one that could either warm Lucy's heart or send her up the wall depending on the circumstances. One thing he didn't have in common with Macbeth, though…

"Hmm, Lucy? Why's a hand on my face?"

As if to answer her own thought, Macbeth spoke up, a tiny hand splayed across his face. Rowen had rolled firmly towards his father's side, his hands stretching out and covering way more of the bed than what should have been possible for a five-year-old. Lucy giggled a little at the sight of Macbeth whining–much like Rowen had–at being woken up.

"It's just Rowen, he had another nightmare," she whispered.

"…Nightmare huh." Macbeth looked down at his son, whose hands now seemed to be stretching even further up his face.

Lucy frowned a bit at that. "Sorry, I probably should have sent him to bed again. We can talk to him tomorrow about getting up in the middle of the night."

"No, it's ok." Macbeth's own hand reached out, not to brush his son's away, but to ruffle his head, much like Lucy had moments before. "I don't mind if he crawls into bed for now…I think him knowing he can come to us if he feels unsafe is a good thing."

Lucy could feel the invisible words–because I never got to do this–hang in the air as she watched both father and son curled up together with her in bed. Despite the fact that it was 3 a.m. and that she had already gotten up once before…she felt happy that she could share this moment with them. She moved in closer, arms wrapping around both husband and child. Lucy felt Macbeth's breath catch as she moved in closer. "Yeah…I feel the same." She whispered these words and smiled at him, squeezing the side she latched onto.

"Let's help them feel safe enough to come to us about problems."

Because that wasn't the case for us.

Macbeth smiled at her words. "…Love you, Lucy."

"Mmm, love you t-" Lucy's words of affection were interrupted by a swift tiny fist smacking right into her nose. It took every ounce of Macbeth's willpower not to burst out laughing as he outwardly shook in mirth. Lucy growled and rolled completely over so that her back was facing the two of them, rubbing her nose in dejection and mumbling something about "having to deal with him now".

He didn't really mind though, he appreciated the sentiment more than the words themselves. As the two of them drifted back to sleep for the third time collectively, there was a sense of ease and relaxation that put a gentle smile on both of their faces. (At least, until the tiny typhoon known as Rowen rolled back around to kick them both at least once more before the night was up.)

7:30 a.m.

Macbeth felt a hand on his face. Normally a small, pudgy hand on his face so early in the morning was to be associated with Rowen, but that didn't exactly explain the hand on the back of his head…or foot on his stomach.

His red eyes warily opened. To his chagrin, not one, but all four of his children could be seen lying between various spots of him and Lucy (well, really he could only see three, but if he assumed the thing behind him, was NOT a giant rat…).

He tried to get his wife's attention. "Lucy. Lucy!" Hissed whispers did nothing but make her scrunch up her face in frustration.

"I know! Don't be so loud." Lucy's eyes opened just enough to glare at him, which looked ever so slightly more threatening with Rowen's hand draped over her ear. "Look, we have to appreciate this while we can. If they all wake up now they'll be hungry and I don't want to think about anything but this bed for at least another thirty minutes."

He couldn't exactly nod in this situation, so instead, he slowly blinked to let her know he understood. A small smile creased her lips. "Thank you," she said before closing her eyes and falling back asleep again.

He watched her for a little while longer, looking at her, then at Rowen, and at the two other children curled up beside him. He could feel the last one's back move with steady breathing as he finally closed his eyes once again. Hoping to keep the picture-perfect moment of his family alive in his mind, if only in the moments before falling back asleep.

To anyone curious, Estella is the same kid I thought up waaay back for MidLu week 2015. She's a keeper! Make sure to review and tell me which kid's your fav!