AN: This was written in about an hour and all off the top of my head. I was not expecting any of this. I hope you like. Thanks for your time. And don't forget to read and review!

Chapter 7: The Lost Screw

Bill, I love you so, I always will
I look at you and see the passion eyes of May
Oh, but am I ever gonna see my wedding day
I was on your side Bill when you were loosin'
I never scheme or lie Bill, there's been no foolin'
But kisses and love won't carry me till you marry me Bill
-Wedding Bell Blues by Fifth Dimension

"Step five," I said aloud. "Attach the metal mattress base (part five) to the scissor assembly (part 6) using screw D and nut H as shown in figure BB. Tighten fully." I looked down at the crib. Well, at least what I had completed so far. There wasn't much to go by, but I was getting along. This assembly stuff was getting more and more frustrating. I had just taken apart the crib. I had gotten to being eighty percent done when I realized I had made quite the mistake and disassembled it. I started from the beginning after ranting and raving to Kim who was relaxing on the couch downstairs. Cursing up a storm, I returned to the spare bedroom that we were preparing for as a nursery. Last weekend I had asked for help from Paul and Quil who painted the two rooms with me. Kim had chosen the colour 'Social Butterfly', which was supposed to be a different name for the colour yellow. I had two problems with this: 1. what kind of name was that? And how did a butterfly connect to the colour yellow? 2. Never have I ever seen a man who would paint their bedroom yellow. So I never understood it as being a neutral colour for boys and girls. I mean, I guess it doesn't matter if you're a baby or gay. But I still don't get it. I mean, when the boys get older – at about four, they won't want the room to be yellow. They'll ask for a regular colour for boys, like blue or green. In fact I saw this one green that would have looked super cool in Kim's paint colour deck. It was called 'Outrageous Green'. Kim vetoed it, quickly enough.

Focusing back on the task at hand, I realized that I seemed to have misplaced screw D. I lifted the Spanish version of the instructions, to see if it might be hiding there. Nope. I moved around a plastic bag. Nope. I stood up, to see if I had perhaps sat on it. No, sir. I scratched my head, looking for screw D, while consulting the manual to see exactly what it looked like. I moved around the box, pushed aside the completed part of the crib, and could not find it in my surrounding area, as I began searching the other side, I looked up to see Kim looking thoughtfully around the room, leaning against the door frame.

"Kim, what are you doing? You're supposed to be getting rest!" I cry. Last week we had visited the doctor who had told us that he would prefer it if Kim would take it easy and stay off her feet as much as she could. So I had been very strict lately. She shook her head, a smile crossing her features.

"I'm just checking on your new progress. And thinking. I don't like this colour anymore," she says, pointing at the walls.

I throw up my hands in exasperation. "I told you it was ugly!"

"What do you know about decorating, Jared?" she teases.

"A shit load of nothing. But yellow is not good for a boys room!"

"Yeah, I see that now," she admits.

Shaking my head, I decide to keep my mouth shut. It's only the stress of the babies being born in a few weeks and the crib assembling that's making me short.

"So you want to repaint it?" I sigh, closing my eyes in defeat.

"No, no. Maybe next year, when they're a year. It's too late now," she steps in the room to comfort me, when I suddenly see screw D. Only, it's too late for me to grab, as I watch Kim step on it. I watch. It hasn't quite sunk in that her stepping on it could be dire, until she lets out a screech and I hear a crack. Maybe she couldn't. But I did. I look up, and she's falling over from the pain. Snapping back to the situation, I reach out and grab her, cradling her in my right arm. I lower her to the ground, as I sit down, myself. Her eyes are tightly closed, and her teeth are gritted in pain. Tears are escaping from her shut lids. She's holding her breath, waiting out the agony.

I slide a hand through her hair. "Alright, we'll be going to the hospital," I announce. She's silent. "Breathe, Kim. Come on," I say soothingly.

She hisses and opens her eyes blinking. "What was that?" her voice wobbles. She lets out a small sob of suffering and looks down at what she stepped on.

"Screw D," I said.

"What?"

"Alright, let's go," I hoist both of us up, rather impressively. Kim is too distracted by her broken big toe to compliment me on my little manoeuvre. I leave the crib behind, happily. I try to exit the room, but she freezes up.

"I can't walk," she tells me. I look down at her foot, and notice her big toe being in an odd position, swelling up and decidedly purple. I wonder how much of my left-over werewolf strength can carry the pregnant woman of twins, but I don't think about it too much as I bend over and whisk her into my arms, like a new bride. I'm proud to say that despite losing majority of my werewolf extra powers, I still have quite some strength. It's hard to admit that I struggled. I didn't show her though. I smiled brightly at her. She did not look pleased with my smile seeing as how she was miserable.

Down the stairs was a bit difficult but I somehow managed. I looked at the door and wondered how I could open it.

"I need my purse," she mutters.

"Right," I turn around and head past the living room and to the kitchen where her purse sits on the counter by the sugar and honey jars. She reaches over and scoops it onto her arm and resting it on her belly.

"Oh, this hurts!" she hisses, scrunching up her face.

Like a dumbass, I say, "Just wait till you give birth."

She opens her eyes and gives me an 'are you kidding me?' look. I close my mouth, audibly, and use my arm that's under her legs to open our front door. I close it behind me, and Kim reaches over to lock the door for us. It had snowed last night, the last week of January. There wasn't a lot, since the ground was damp, but there was a bit. And ice. A whole lot of ice. I was careful with my steps. I didn't need to fall and drop her. That would be a disaster. I don't think this day can get any worse, I remind myself. After the mishap with the crib, and losing screw D and then Kim breaking her toe, it was safe to say things could only get better. I get her to the car as I feel my arms shake from the weight. I pretend I'm not struggling at all as I set her down on the ground. She leans against the car, waiting for me to open the door. I help her slide into her seat and close the door behind her. I jog around the car, get in and start it.

"How you doing?" I ask.

She winces; her hands on her stomach, her foot placed strategically on her heel so there will be no collision with it and the ground. "I don't know."

"What don't you know?" My brows furrow, as I glance over at her.

She's staring at me too. She's so beautiful, with her eyebrows raised, her eyes glistening, her lips turned down into a frown. My heart stutters as I lose myself in her eyes. She looks away and gasps.

Before I can see what she's staring out through our front window, we collide with a deer. My first concern is for Kim as the deer pounds into the car, the airbags explode into my face. The deer flies over the hood and smashes into the glass, then tumbles over the roof and onto the ground to the right side of the car. My second thought is can I be anymore stupid? My third pondering is Kim. Kim. I felt the glass hit my skin as it flew into the front seat. I got a few cuts. I couldn't imagine what Kim – Kim? I see her eyes closed, lightly, not in pain, but peaceful. My heart stutters again – but not out of love, well not in that way. But out of fear. And anger. And crippling emotional pain.

"Kim?" I say slowly. I unbuckle my seat belt. I push the airbag away from me as it deflates. I lean over her, check to see if she's breathing. I see her leg has gone slack, her broken toe, touching the floor. I touch her cheek. It takes a second for it to register that she is bleeding. Glass cut up her face real good, as the blood leaked from a deep wound just under her left eye and across her cheekbone. Her beautiful cheekbone. I glance over her body and a large shard of glass is embedded in her right arm, pinning it to the seat.

...

...

Almost mechanically, I reach over her leg and on the car floor her purse still sits. I brush away the glass and unzip it. I fish in for her cell phone and hold it out. I press the nine. And then a one. And then another one. I wait, as it rings.

"This is nine-one-one, what's the emergency?" a clear female voice asks me.

Me. "Hello," I say.

"What's your emergency?" she repeats.

"Kim," I breathe.

"What is the matter, sir?"

"Car. Crash. Glass."

"What about glass? Who is Kim?"

"My wife. She's pregnant." Collect your thoughts, man. This is an emergency! Quick, get her help!

"Is she alright?"

"I don't know."

"Where are you, sir?"

"On the road. To the hospital. She broke her toe. Screw D. I lost it," my voice is monotone.

"Which road?"

"I'm in La Push."

"La Push, Washington? What's the street?"

"La Push Road. One-ten," I finally say. "Hurry. Please."

"We've sent an ambulance. Could you tell me of any landmarks or streets that you're near?" she keeps me on the phone. But, I have to get to Kim.

"You'll take too long," I say. She's all...wrong. Her body. It looks all wrong. She's hurt. I can't concentrate enough to see if she's breathing. So, I breathe in deeply.

The woman on the phone is talking to me. I'm not responding.

...

...

...

Help.

"Kim," I say, closing the phone. I dropped it, but I'm not sure where. I can't touch her. I have to let her be. Help. I need help.

I hear the sirens. I don't know how long it's been. They could have taken their time. It could have been hours and I wouldn't know. I hear the car pull up. But it's too chaotic for me to see where. I hear the back door open and I hear a paramedic talk into a radio. I hear more sirens. Police?

They're at my side of the car. Leave me alone. Get Kim. I can't voice this. I try, but I can't. They open my car door.

"Sir? Are you alright?" The other paramedic is running around to Kim's side.

"Jim, we need to get her to the hospital quick. Sir, how far along is your wife?" I focus on the steering wheel. I read Ford, and see a small picture of a horn in the center. Ford's suck. More sirens.

I see the uniform of the police approach this accident.

"Jared?" the officer asks. I look up slowly and see a familiar face. I can't place it. I know it. But I can't. I can only think about Kim. "Jared, how far along is Kim? I think she's almost due, Jim," the police man tells the paramedic. I hear fumbling, and I hear the seat belt retract. I look over and watch them work around getting Kim out of the car. They're testing her, or something. Her breathing.

"She's not doing good, Pete, let's get her to the hospital quick." Yes, let's.

"What about the husband?"

"He's not in too bad shape."

"Jared, can you get out of the car?"

I nod, and tear my gaze away from them carrying my wife out of the car. I hope her stretcher is comfy. She likes cozy beds. Stretcher. Oh, God. I pull myself out of the car, and stand in front of the officer who grabs my arm, leading me away.

"What about the deer?" I hear someone ask.

"Work around it." It. Poor, it. I'm so stupid. I'm sorry.

I see the stretcher being wheeled to the ambulance, where the doors are open, waiting for her. A car has stopped to watch the scene in front of them. Another car. Behind me too. Another ambulance, leading me to their own one. Away from Kim.

I watch them put her in the car. I am put into my own now. I have my own ambulance. How odd. It feels like mine, right now. I sit there, as a woman examines me. I stare blankly at my hands, not co-operating much. We're driving.

"What's he muttering about?" the driver asks.

"I think he's talking about his wife," the woman answers.

Yes. "Kim, Kim. My fault. Babies. Kim. Kim. Kim."

"Is your wife pregnant, sir?"

I nod.

"Do you know what you're having?" she asks, trying to calm me.

"Two boys," I answer.

"Do you have any names picked out?" she wonders. I look up at her face. I can't remember it. I only think I'm seeing Kim. But I know I'm not.

"Yes," I say.

"What are they?"

And despite me and Kim settling on this matter officially a week ago, I couldn't recall the names. Their names. What were they? I should know my own children's names. I should. But, I don't. I look at her helplessly and she gives me a weak smile.

I go back to staring at my hands.

Sirens. They're almost non-existent when you have more important things on your mind.

"Will Kim get there first?" I ask.

"Yes, she left before us," the woman answers. Good. Good.

We're slowing down. The woman opens the door and helps me out of the truck. I'm on solid ground. Everything is so rushed. People are passing by. Loud noises. Talking. Crying babies.

They sit me on a bed. In a room full of a whole bunch of other beds. I'm in the ER. I know this because I've seen a lot of those doctor-drama shows with Kim. I wonder if the doctor placed in front of me is having an affair with the nurse who's helping me when he's got a wife and kid at home, waiting for him. And if this was one of those shows, the nurse would be secretly pining after another doctor who was the chief of surgery or something.

"Well, this piece of glass is in your leg quite deeply. Did you recently have surgery on this leg, sir?" the doctor asks, touching my scar.

"Yeah," I say. They nurse begins to ask me questions, I replied.

"Where's my wife?" I ask.

"We're not sure right now. But we'll check for you okay?"

"Can you do that now?" I demand. "I've had you nurses lie to me before. You say you call her, but you don't and then I'm left helpless, worried and sad. I don't want to be sad. I want to know where she is and if she's okay." My voice quivers at the end. I can't cry. Not in front of these people.

"I'll go right now, okay?" the nurse, leaves me with the doctor.

"I'm pulling the glass out on the count of three. One, two, three." I don't feel it. I barely even blink. Kim.

"If you're done, can I go?" I ask.

"Sir, you might be experiencing whip lash or a concussion. I'd like to examine you further..."

"Can I see my wife first? Kim? Her name's Kim Martin. That's my last name," I say. The doctor nods. He addresses an apparently large cut on my forehead. The nurse returns. I look at her expectantly. She is hesitant.

"There was an emergency. You're wife went into early labour. They're performing a C-section, shortly," she tells me.

...

"Is she okay?"

"She's in surgery."

"But is she okay?"

"The babies are experiencing major distress. They have to get them out now, if there is any chance of survival," the nurse says.

... "But, is she okay?"

The nurse looks torn, staring at the doctor.

"Mr. Martin, you're wife is having the babies. You can't be with her. You're going to have to stay here with me. I have to tend to your injuries, now."

I stay still for a moment, before speaking up, "Um, yeah, that's not happening. I have to be with her," I stand up; the doctor tries to push me down into my seat. I look sharply at him. "If you think you have any chance of with-holding me, then you're in for a rude awakening. Back, the fuck off, Doc," I threaten. It works. I'm gone. I don't know where I'm going. As usual.

I push my way down the halls, past the people. I stop a nurse and ask where my wife would be, she doesn't know. She's useless. I find one of those main desks and ask the nurse who says she'll check for me. I wait. She takes too long. I order her to hurry it on up. She jumps, she makes a call. She tells me that if I would wait for a minute, she'll have someone take me to my wife. Hurry up, is all I need right now. One of those volunteering older persons comes up to me and cheerfully tells me he'll show me the way. If he wasn't like, eighty, I'd knock him down. Too bad, I could use the release.

I'm being led to an elevator. I stand in the elevator. It's silent. Thank God there's no annoying top forty music playing in the background. I might've had to smash the old man's head into the speaker.

The doors open with some clanging and I push past, before the old man could lead. I look around frantically, to which I receive a few strange looks for. The old man tells me to follow him. I'm led down a long hall to some large double doors. He pushes through where a nurse meets me and asks what I'm doing here. The volunteer tells her and then she leads me a bit further down the hall. Eventually there's a door. She helps me get into some scrubs. I wash up and enter. I see Kim, out cold. A doctor is attending to her, prepping her for surgery. I rush to her head. She looks real badly banged up. I touch her shoulder lightly. I focus on her face. Her full eyelashes, her soft skin, which had dried up blood and scrapes, covering its beauty. Her full lips cracked and chapped. I wish she was here with me. Awake. Talking back. I sigh and before I even know what's going on. I hear a cry.

A soft cry. Not a person with fully-developed lungs. A person with little, tiny lungs. Baby lungs.

"Mr. Martin? Would you like to see your baby girl?" One of the nurses asks.

I'm stunned. "That's not my baby," I say.

Another cry is in the air. It's so quiet and yet, powerful. It is the only thing that makes me want to tear away from Kim.

The nurse walks over to me. I see a gross, purple thing being carried to a corner where there is a small spot for it to be placed and cleaned.

"Mr. Martin. Would you like to see your children before we take them away to be tested?" the nurse asks me.

"You're taking them away?" I'm very confused.

"It's procedure."

I take one last look at Kim. I don't want to leave her, but...I walk over to where there are two babies, squealing, and rocking, in these small, fluffy looking blankets, wrapped up tight. They're a deep red, both with tufts of black hair sitting on their odd-shaped heads. They're not very pretty. And yet –

"They're beautiful," I say.

"Do they have names?" the nurse asks me.

I blink, unable to not be fascinated by their very presence. Now, how did that work? How did I make those living beings?

"Joe and Hank," I say.

The nurse looks a bit confused. "Joe as in...Joanna?"

I'm absolutely clueless. "No. Joe as in Joseph, but with an 'f', please."

"Sir, you're first born is a girl, I think you might what to rethink your names. But don't worry about that now. We'll take them away and tend to them," the nurse said. And she and another nurse picked up the babies and took them out of the room. A doctor told me that I had to leave. They were going to fix Kim up now. I was ushered out of the operating room. I see the nurses not too far ahead, and I follow, not leaving my babies. My babies.

It was odd to have such an attachment to them so quickly. I loved them. The only way I could explain it was that it was kind of like imprinting. It was profoundly different and also similar. How strange to feel something so powerful to someone who wasn't Kim. I fell in love twice in one day. Unbelievable. I followed the nurses all the way to a door where they told me to wait I couldn't come in, once they realized I was close behind them. They told me to wait by the window just down the hall where the babies all sat by, waiting to be stared at. My babies would be there shortly. I rushed down the hall, and practically pressed my face up against the window.

Who knew this was how my day was going to turn out? I certainly didn't. Luckily, I didn't have to wait that long, as I watched the nurses come in and place my two little versions of myself in the weird container things, surrounded by ones similar with babies, all different. I couldn't take my eyes off Hank and Joe...wait...Hank and the girl. Or Joe and the girl. Whichever, we had to keep one name and toss the other. Huh. We put a lot of time into choosing those names. And now, I was kinda disappointed to have to ditch one. I liked them both. They were simple and made me laugh. Joe. Hank. Smile for me.

And as I stared, wonderingly at these two parts of me – almost a whole – I saw their beauty and their striking resemblance to Kim. All I saw, when I looked at them, was my wife. My wonderful wife who was recovering right now. I just hoped she'd wake up soon and see her babies. I didn't want to wait much longer. We had to name them. We had to hold them. We had to love them.

I really wanted to hold them. I saw a nurse dithering in the back and I knocked on the glass. Idiot. I had made a loud noise and caused a vibration in the window causing a lot of the babies to cry. Including my baby girl. She started to whine. Her small, adorable mouth opened and she let out a muffled cry. My heart dropped. I fail as a father, already. How awful. Reality check for Jared: you made your baby cry after only one hour. I looked at the nurse helplessly and she shook her head as she tried to calm down the babies. I tried to tell her with my eyes that I wanted to go in there and sooth my own baby, but she ignored me and tried to shoo me away with a flick of her wrist. It wouldn't work. I was staying put.

I'm not sure how long I stood watching my daughter and son. But soon a nurse was tapping my shoulder.

"Mr. Martin?" she looks at me in question.

"Yes."

"You're wife is coming to. We'll bring in the babies for both of you to see shortly."

I beamed. "Thanks!" I say. I take one last look at my kids, and then dart down the hall to where the nurse just told me I had to go and which room Kim was in. I found room three ten, faster than I thought and I peeked into the room. A nurse was fumbling around with Kim's IV. She looked over at me, when I entered.

"Hey, mommy," I said, feeling down-right giddy. Even though this was all my fault. I thought darkly about this afternoon for a moment, before shaking my head. I got my kids a little sooner out of it. They were apparently healthy and Kim looked to be alright. If anything anymore serious had happened to her, I might have – well, I don't know what. I didn't want to think about it. Thankfully I was too numb earlier to have any emotional, suicidal, dark and twisted inkling.

Kim doesn't say anything, but stares at me intently. I walk over and pull up the chair beside her bed.

"She can't speak; her voice is lost for now. It'll be back in a few days. Just press the button if you need anything," the nurse left the room swiftly.

"You had the babies. Kim, God, they're perfect. You have to see them. I can't wait for you to see them. They haven't let me hold them yet," I say quickly. She looks at me, her lips turning upward slightly. I brush her cheek softly, ignoring the bandage. Her arm is wrapped up tightly in bandages from where the glass pierced her skin. Under the blankets, I'm sure her toe was cast.

There was a small knock on the door and two nurses came in wheeling in these small containers where the babies lay, sleeping.

"Here they are. Perfectly healthy at five pounds nine ounces and six pounds. You had a small little boy here. And you're girl has quite the set of lungs," the nurse smiled at Kim who looked a bit confused as she picked up our girl and placed her in Kim's arms. Her bandaged arm was weak and painful, so I helped her hold onto the baby, who lent against her chest. Kim looked down, her face expressionless. I was quite worried for a moment. Kim nodded to me to let go, and I did. She balanced the baby with one arm and her leg, which she pulled up to cradle the baby protectively. The other nurse handed me my son and I gratefully and carefully held him in my large hands. He was so, so tiny. He was fast asleep, I think. I mean, his eyes were closed. He was breathing in regularly. He was perfect. His small, button nose. His little lips. His dark hair, crazy and endearing. The emotions hitting me suddenly were overwhelming. I couldn't quite get a hold of myself at the moment as I let everything hit me. The crash. The injuries. The ambulance. The broken toe. The surgery. The babies. The screw D. All of it. I felt a large lump in my throat congest, and I felt hot tears fall down my cheeks. Kim makes a noise and I look up, she looks at me, tears down her face as well. She wants to ask me a thousand questions but she can't.

"I love you," I manage.

She looks down at our son, and I look down at our daughter. I want to switch babies. But I think that's a bit too complicated right now. I settle for being in the moment with our family of four.

P.S: Girl name suggestions are welcome. I'm not a big fan of girl names, so they all sound horrible to me. Suggestions, please!

R/R!!