Watching my fifteen-month-old twins interact with my hour-old son is just about the most perfect thing in the world. I don't know if they completely understand who he is or that he's coming home with us, but so far, they seem completely fascinated by him.

William.

Wow.

He's here; he has a name. He's real.

He's sleeping in my arms; he looks so peaceful.

I know this is just the calm before the storm. As soon as he recovers from the harrowing experience of being born, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to give us hell.

But he looks so innocent right now, his face still wrinkled, his tiny arms stretching about occasionally, it's easy to let myself believe he'll never cause any sort of trouble.

I tear my eyes away for a moment to look at Monica; her eyes are misty with tears as she watches us, Jack and Erica each cuddled under an arm.

I'm sure those two won't be thrilled with how much attention will have to go to the baby, or that Mommy won't be able to focus just on them for a while. They're still very needy—in the best way possible—and it's going to be interesting to see how we handle this.

"How'd you manage to get the twins in here without everyone else?" Monica finally asks.

I knew when she made the request that it wouldn't be easy—everybody wants to see her and the baby, and who could blame them? "I just told them it's what you wanted. I have no problem using the my-wife-just-had-a-baby-and-can-have-whatever-she-wants card. I asked them to give us fifteen or twenty minutes before they storm the beach."

Monica nods, wrapping her arms a little tighter around the twins. "So, realistically, that means maybe ten minutes."

"Right," I answer, bending down and kissing William's head.

"So, any second now…"

"Pretty much."

We both glance at the door, almost expecting to see everyone we know standing outside of it, chomping at the bit, but all is quiet for the moment.

I look back to my brand-new son, marveling at him. He's so perfect. I can't believe I helped make him.

I think that's the part that's trippiest of all—I actually helped create a life. It was weird enough thinking about it when Monica was pregnant, but now…he's a tiny little person, out in the real world. He's a mix of me and Monica.

God—all of my stupid quirks and insecurities could be a part of this little guy. At least Jack and Erica have a chance; all I'm doing is raising them.

I sigh a little bit. Like "only" raising them is any better. At least we love our kids. I'm sure we'll manage to screw them up somehow, but at least, if nothing else, we'll do it with love.

It's hard to believe that a little over a year ago we didn't even have one. Now we're the parents of three babies. Three. Part of me feels like I should be panicking right now, but…I just can't. I love them so much; I can't imagine my life without them. Jack and Erica make everything so interesting, so much better, even when they're crabby or screaming or harassing each other.

I'm sure William will be happy to add to the mix, as soon as he's a little more cognizant of the world around him.

Hell…I'm sure it'll just be a matter of days before he adds his own particular brand of crazy to the Bing family.

I can't wait.

I've always wanted a big family; I'm sure a lot of that stems from being an only child. I used my imagination a lot and became pretty good at doing things on my own, but I always wondered what it'd be like to have brothers and sisters. I knew that, if I were to procreate one day, I wanted to have a bunch of them.

When Monica and I decided to adopt, well…I knew that I wanted to adopt a bunch of them.

Now, I just have a bunch of them.

There's literally no difference in how I feel about them, either. I did wonder about that, even though I told Monica she wouldn't love William more than the twins. Maybe it's an issue for some people, but for me, for us, biology really doesn't matter. They're our kids and we love them.

Every time I think I couldn't possibly love them more, I'm wrong. Every single second my heart feels like it's expanding, creating more space for more love.

And I really don't care how cheesy it sounds.

I hear chattering and look back to my wife and twins—they're both standing up now, leaning against Monica, babbling to her at a rapid pace. To her credit, she nods along, looking back and forth between them like a tennis match, asking questions, responding to what they're saying, looking terribly interested in the whole thing.

God help us when they're able to communicate properly.

"I don't know if I've told you this," I say suddenly. "But you were absolutely amazing. I don't know how you did it."

She looks up at me, an eyebrow quirking. "Didn't really have a choice—he was gonna come out one way or another."

"Still…it was incredible. I just…" I don't know how to tell my wife how proud I am of her, of her body and what it can do. I watched Erica give birth to the twins and it was pretty intense, but nothing prepared me for seeing Monica go through it.

She looks back to the twins, and I swear she's blushing. "So, uh…what time did my parents get here?"

I sigh and shake my head. "Your mom said it was 'nearly seven' when they showed up."

"Which means it was probably closer to six," she finishes, looking exasperated. She pulls the twins in for a hug. "Oh, my poor babies. You must be exhausted. Did Nana and Grandpa let you sleep at all?"

"If it's any consolation," I say, smiling down at William as he starts to make adorable baby noises, "your parents look beat. I doubt they slept more than an hour or two."

Monica kisses Erica and Jack, then smiles at me. "That helps actually, yes."

There's a tap at the door a moment before it swings open, and almost everyone we know piles into the room. Pregnant Phoebe leads the way, pulling Mike with her. Ross and Rachel squeeze in right behind them, grinning from ear to ear, Joey almost knocking them out of the way to get into the room. Jack and Judy slip in, immediately followed by my parents.

My father, surprisingly, has gone super sedate for the occasion, hair pulled back, khaki pants, pastel shirt, pearls, looking every inch like a typical grandmother. It's weird seeing him that way, but I appreciate the gesture.

My mom, also in a nod to the occasion, only has part of her breasts hanging out.

Everyone looks over at Monica for a moment before crowding around me, trying to get a look at our son.

"He's so beautiful," my dad whispers, stroking his head gently. "He looks just like you when you were a baby."

"I don't see it," I answer. "He's pretty cute, though, isn't he?"

I'm greeted with a chorus of "awww," and all I can do is shake my head as I pass him off to my father. The crowd around me instantly dissolves, following the baby. I move over to Monica's bed and sit on the edge, pulling Erica into my lap.

"You know, he's not gonna get up and leave on his own. You can pass him around without crowding around him," Monica tells them, then looks over at Jack. "You'd think they'd never seen a baby before," she says, kissing his nose.

The group does manage to take the hint, though, and spreads out a little, fanning out around the hospital bed. Joey stands next to me, bending over for a moment to kiss Erica's head. She grins up at him and says, "Hi!"

"Hi, Erica. How are you?"

She spreads out her fingers, palms up, and starts talking nonsensically, no doubt telling her uncle Joey all about her night with her grandparents and her new brother. Joey nods along, looking impressed at what she has to say, throwing in the occasional, "mmhmm."

"That's amazing, Erica. Sounds like you've been busy."

She buries her face in my chest for a moment, suddenly looking shy, but I know she's just flirting. Joey holds his hands for her, and she tilts her body toward him, going willingly into his arms.

"You know, she's better at flirting than I am?" Joey asks, kissing her cheek.

"She's cuter than you, too," Monica tells him matter-of-factly, and I notice that Mike has already confiscated Jack, who truly looks thrilled to be chatting with his uncle. It's tough having the world's most attractive children.

Joey tries to look offended, but just nods in agreement when Erica bats her eyelashes at him.

I look over his shoulder, sliding my arm around Monica, trying to keep tabs on my new son; my mother has him for now. Looking down at him adoringly, she asks, "What's his name?"

"William," Monica answers. "William Charles Bing."

My father looks up at us, startled, tears filling the corners of his eyes a moment later. "Thank you," he whispers, his hand coming out to squeeze mine, and I try to swallow around the lump in my throat. I just shrug and shuffle my foot; Monica's arm goes around my waist, leaning her head against my side.

Judy takes him next, immediately kissing his little forehead and Jack leans over them, playing with William's tiny fingers. The baby makes a tiny noise of protest for a moment before settling back into slumber. I look over at Joey, who's trying to talk to Erica; Erica has her eyes trained on her new brother, watching his progress intently. I nudge Monica and gesture to our daughter.

"I think somebody's already protective of her little brother," she whispers.

"It's okay, Eri," I say, and she looks at me for a second before going back to her brother. "We won't let anyone hurt William."

"Bahbah," she says, holding out her hand toward him.

"Is she saying 'brother'?" Joey asks, grinning.

"She's trying," I answer. "Jack's almost got it, too. Don't you, buddy?"

Little Jack turns to us at the sound of his name, his eyes wide. Monica tickles his foot and points to William. "Who is that?"

He grins, his nose scrunching up as he follows where Monica's hand is pointing. "Bahbah!"

Rachel leans against Ross's shoulder, almost in tears. "Oh! That's the sweetest thing I've ever seen. Rooooooss!"

Ross makes his face carefully blank, reaching to pat her arm.

"What?" Phoebe asks, looking confused.

"I think someone has baby fever," Ross answers. "Too many pregnant women at one time."

"I do not have baby fever," Rachel says indignantly. "I just want another baby. That's not the same thing at all."

"Can we talk about this later, please? Our nephew was just born."

"Oh, please. Monica and Chandler were trying to get pregnant the day Emma was born!"

I look down at Monica, who makes a face but says nothing. What can we say, really? We were trying get to pregnant then.

I watch my son get passed to Rachel, who has tears in her eyes as she smiles down at him, and it occurs to me how odd it is to say that "we" were trying to get pregnant. I was definitely trying to get her pregnant, and she definitely spent the last forty weeks of her life pregnant, but there was no "we" in that part of the process. But the entire time, it was "we're trying to get pregnant," or "we're in our second trimester." I don't know—maybe that's part and parcel with being a couple who really wants a child, but I think it's giving me a lot more credit than I deserve.

Ross has the baby now, though Rachel keeps her hand on him, her head on Ross's shoulder as they both gaze down at him.

"He's so beautiful," Rachel says, caressing his little arm.

I hear Monica sniffle a little, and I look down at her, giving her a squeeze. "You okay?"

"I'm perfect," she answers, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "But how long do you think it'll be before Rachel's pregnant again?" she asks in a whisper.

I chuckle and kiss the top of her head. "By Christmas at the latest."

The baby moves over to Phoebe, who bounces him gently, Mike smiling at him over her shoulder. Jack stretches out a hand, placing it on William's leg. "Bahbah," he tells Mike, his voice very serious.

"That is definitely your brother," Mike answers. "He's cute, isn't he?"

Jack grins and ducks his face; his hand remains on the baby, though.

"When do I get a baby named after me?" Phoebe asks, keeping her eyes on William.

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"Well, each of your boys is named after someone's father, and Erica's middle name is Josephine. When's my turn?"

"Maybe when you can keep a secret for us for months instead of your first instinct being to trick us into going public with our relationship," Monica answers, her voice low. Maybe it's the hormones, or maybe she's just genuinely shocked that Phoebe would ask that, but she sounds less than thrilled.

Mike's arm slides around Phoebe's shoulders. "Maybe not the time."

Phoebe shrugs, looking mildly oblivious. "Seemed like a valid question."

I just shake my head; I'll chalk this one up to pregnancy brain.

"You ready for your turn, Uncle Joey?" Phoebe asks, carefully holding the baby out to him, and I can tell that it takes everything in Monica's power not to reach up and grab him back.

Joey jostles Erica, who briefly turns her attention to him. "What do you think? Think I can hold your brother for a minute?" He takes her silence as consent and gently places her on the bed next to her mother. He takes William from Phoebe's outstretched arms, pulling him close, and I'm struck once again by just how comfortable he looks holding a baby, especially for someone who has very little interest in children of his own.

Erica stands up, stretching to see William, and Monica grabs her around her waist so she can't tip forward. "Mama," she whines, bouncing up and down a little.

Monica gives me a look and I shrug—who knew?

"It's okay, honey," she says, pulling Erica against her side. "You can see him again in a minute. If you sit on Mama's lap, we can hold him together.

She understands enough of that sentence to scramble onto Monica's lap, waiting.

"They must really love him," my father says suddenly, and I smile up at him.

"It seems that way. Let's just hope they feel the same way when he's up all night crying."

"Are they all sharing a room?" Judy asks, and I can't tell if she's curious, or somehow disapproving.

Monica just shrugs, kissing the top of Erica's head. "That's where his crib is for now, but we'll have to give it a day or two to see how it works out. He might spend a lot of time in our room at first, anyway. The twins certainly did the first couple of months."

Erica whines again, looking up at Joey holding William. "Erica! You get to live with him. I promise you'll see him again."

"That's okay," Joey answers, leaning down to pass the baby back to Monica. "It's sweet that she wants to see him."

Monica carefully arranges her arms around Erica as Joey puts William in her arms; Erica leans in close, gently putting her chubby little hand on his.

The amount of cuteness actually makes me weak. I pull the camera out of my pocket, aiming it at the three of them, taking pictures. Monica doesn't even seem to notice. Erica looks up at her mother and grins; Monica just smiles back. "I know. You're his big sister. That's an important job. You're going to have to help Mama take care of him, okay?"

"Tay," she answers, looking back at William. Jack leans forward suddenly, almost ripping himself out of Mike's arms before he carefully lowers him to the bed. He sits on Monica's legs, scooting close, so he can lean over the baby as well.

I'm going to have to buy stock in film with this sort of action.

The door opens again and I look over my shoulder, smiling at Dr. Rosen as she walks over to the bed. Joey gives her a double a take, and I watch as his posture changes from "Uncle" Joey to "I'm going to hit on you" Joey. "Hey. I don't think we met last night. I'm Joey Tribbiani. You probably recognize me from Days of Our Lives." He holds out his hand to her, ignoring the groans from the rest of the room. "How you doin'?"

To her credit, the doctor just takes his hand for a moment, lifting one eyebrow at him, staring. Joey's face goes slack and she tilts her head at him slightly.

"Whoa," Joey says finally, dropping her hand.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," she answers. "And I'm married, but that was fun. Thanks."

I bury my face in Monica's hair, trying to stifle my laughter—it's not every day I get to see Joey not only shot down, but bested. That really was fun.

She just smiles at us, turning her attention to Monica. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Kind of tired. But mostly okay."

"Good. We'll let your family visit for a little while longer, but after that I want you try to get some rest, okay? Let the hospital take care of William while you can. I promise we won't break him."

"But we just got here," Rachel says, already protesting.

"And so did the baby, and you see how exhausted he is already. Give them a chance to recover."

Big Jack starts herding everyone out of the room, ignoring the noises of protest from every angle. "You heard the woman—let my little girl rest." I can't help but be impressed—Jack Geller is a man to be reckoned with when it comes to his daughter. Once the room is cleared, he over to the bed, kissing Monica's forehead. "He's beautiful, honey."

"Thanks, Daddy," she whispers, glancing up at him, smiling at him widely. He gives each of his grandchildren a kiss, claps me on the back, then walks out the door.

"Your dad gets stuff done," Dr. Rosen says, sounding impressed.

"When he needs to," Monica answers as the doctor sits on the edge of the bed.

"All right. The hospital's policy is to keep new mothers here for at least twelve hours after giving birth, pending any complications. You'll get the standard checkup, and as long as everything looks good, you'll be set. But, since the twelve hour hold will put your release after seven tonight, it might just be easiest to stay here. You'll probably be passed out by then, anyway."

Monica looks up at me for a second, tears in her eyes, and I can't help but wonder if this is going to be her body's go-to for a while. "But…I don't want to stay here tonight. I want to go home now."

"Well, you can't. Of course, you can check out early against medical advice, but I doubt that a single one of your friends or family will actually drive you home."

This doctor is good.

"But I don't want to be away from my family for another night."

She pats Monica's leg sympathetically. "I know. I'm sure they don't want you to be away from them, either. And if you really want to go home at seven tonight, provided all is well, we won't stop you. But it'll do you a world of good."

"Can Chandler stay?"

"Officially? He's not really supposed to be here overnight. Unofficially...well, he wouldn't be the first father to 'nod off' while hanging out with mom. Unfortunately, the Wonder Twins won't be able to stay."

Monica looks truly distressed at the thought of another night away from the twins; I put my arm around her shoulders, hugging her. "Think about it, Mon. They usually go to bed around seven or eight. Even if you were released right at seven, we wouldn't get out of here until closer to eight, and if they were still up by that point…well, you can just imagine the car ride home. I'm sure your parents will be happy to take them again for the night." Monica's lip curls for just a moment, and I try to swallow a laugh. "My parents?" She shrugs a little, seemingly more convinced by that. "We could always give them one of the house keys. The twins could stay in their own beds."

She sighs heavily, tightening her grip on Erica and William, leaning forward to kiss the top of Jack's head. "Fine. But they can stay for a while longer, right?"

Dr. Rosen just nods in understanding. "Of course. I'll send a nurse back in a couple of hours to check on you. Get some sleep, if it all possible." She looks at our three children and laughs a little. "You're gonna need it."