I know there's a few folks that have been waiting for this one. I've had it written for about a year now. Just been waiting for it to be the right time to post it. It jumps around a little, but hopefully it's clear. Hope you enjoy it.

"Babies are such a nice way to start people." – Don Herold

I return from making a quick call to find Emily alternating between holding her breath and letting it out forcefully, her eyes scrunched shut in pain. I move quickly to her side and grab her hand with both of mine. Immediately she begins squeezing and I hear a quiet noise of pain escape her lips. It continues that way for a few moments until I feel the pressure on my hand release, and I see her eyes open slowly.

"Big one?" I ask quietly after pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

She nods and I hear a breathy, "Yeah" escape her lips.

"You're doing good, Em. So good."

"How would you know? You gone through labour lately?" she snaps. My eyes widen at her outburst, and she seems to realize her words. "I'm sorry…" she says immediately with an apologetic look. "I just wish it would hurry up. This fucking hurts."

I don't say anything in reply, instead electing to give her a lengthy, passionate kiss, hoping to distract her.

"Mmm," she hums contentedly. "Thank you, but even your kisses don't have the power to distract me from this pain," she finishes.

I chuckle at her words. "I love you, Em."

"I hate you and your damn sperm."

"Not your eggs?"

"Oh, I hate those too, don't get me wrong, I just hate you and your sperm more."

"Well, that's good to know."

"How's Campbell?" she asks suddenly. "Did you make sure he'll get fed? 'Cause this is taking forever, and who knows how long it'll be before you can sneak outta here to-"

"Whoa, Em, relax. It's all taken care of," I say, cutting off her worried train of thought. "I called Colton from a few houses down and he says he'll walk him, let him out, and make sure he gets fed. Frankly, I think his mom was happy to get him outta the house – I guess summer vacation is taking its toll," I say with a chuckle.

"What about your mom? Did you call her and let her know that her grandchildren are making their entrance into the world? What about my mom? Did you call her? Should I call her? And what about-"

"Hey, pregnant lady, would you focus on, oh, I don't know….your pregnancy for one minute? I've got the rest covered. You just focus on breathing, and making sure you're as comfortable as possible."

"Sorry," she says sheepishly. Her eyes squeeze shut once more and she flails an arm out, her hand seeking mine again. I grab it immediately and begin to encourage her to breathe, while trying very hard to ignore the feeling forming in the put of my stomach at the sight of her in pain.

"FUCK!"

"Focus, Em," I encourage, after sharing a look with one of the nurses. "Less cursing and let's focus on this."

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I'M DOING?! IT'S KIND OF HARD TO IGNORE THE FEELING OF-" she yells scathingly before she's interrupted by her body telling her to get back to its task of bringing two babies into the world. She squeezes my hand and I swear I feel bones crunch, but I don't dare mention it. I manage to stay quiet, but the wincing is involuntary – she's got some serious inhuman strength going on right now.

"Are you being serious right now?!" she says, fire in her eyes. Shit. Evidently she saw me. I admit the low tone of her voice kind of scares me a bit…particularly after her outburst just moments ago – the stark difference is worrying. I gulp.

"I'm pushing a PERSON out of my body and you're complaining about a little pain in your HAND?!" she continues.

I look to the nurse in the room for a little help, but she just shrugs with an amused look on her face. "I… Um… No, I'm good," I say quietly.

"You damn well better be," she grinds out as she leans back onto the pillows and releases her death grip on my hand.

I take in the pain in her eyes and feel that feeling in the pit of my stomach form again. It's a mixture of my own agony at seeing her in pain, and a nearly paralyzing kind of fear that something will go horribly wrong. No matter how many books she made me read, or how many videos I secretly watched to see how things were gonna go down (god how I wish I hadn't…), or how detailed a description our doctor gave us, nothing could've prepared me for this.

I feel woefully inadequate as she grimaces and yells out in pain again. I desperately wish there was some way I could help her, and make that pain go away. And perhaps that's what has me anxious. There's just nothing I can do.

"Derek, I can't," she says as her head collapses onto the pillow. I take just a second to look at her. She's absolutely exhausted, and I can't blame her. She's been at this for what feels like days. Her rage has given way for this new exhaustion and lack of belief in herself, and frankly it's a little unnerving. I'm not used to Emily Prentiss so readily admitting she can't do something.

"Yes, you can," I murmur in her ear as I wipe her sweaty forehead, pushing her hair away from her eyes. "Come on, Em."

"No, I can't," she argues, shaking her head weakly. "I can't."

"Don't give me that shit, Em. You can do this," I say forcefully, hoping the change in tone is enough to spur her on.

She shakes her head again. "I can't."

"Stop saying that. Yes, you can, Emily. You can, I promise you," I say in encouragement, not liking how big a toll this is taking on her. I press a kiss to her head before locking my gaze with hers. "Come on, Em. Let's do this."

I look down at the two babies wrapped snugly in blankets, held safely in her arms. They are nothing short of mesmerizing. A boy and a girl. One of each. And they're perfect. From their eyes to their toes, they're absolutely perfect. And they are the most beautiful things I've ever laid my eyes on.

My gaze shifts up to Emily's face, and I feel a wave of emotion wash over me when I see her expression. I blink to banish the tears from my eyes as I take in the sight in front of me. My children and my wife – my soulmate. Her eyes are locked on the two of them, tears gathering as she's no doubt overwhelmed with hormones and emotion. She's completely oblivious to everyone else in the room, from the nurses and doctor, to me, her husband. All she's got eyes for are her children.

Children. We're parents.

I lean over and tilt her chin up so she's looking at me. "I love you, Emily," I say with more emotion than I ever have. "And I am so proud of you."

"I love you too," she replies with a tired smile before we share a brief kiss. "Here, it's Daddy's turn to hold them," she says.

Carefully she passes them over and I sit down in the chair next to her bed. I look at Em, feeling a goofy grin spread across my face as I hold my children for only the second time. She returns my expression with a warm smile, while wiping the tears from her face. I feel tears of my own threaten to fall once more.

"Hey, I got you, I got you," I say softly to them as my gaze turns back down toward the small bundles in my arms, stomping down my terror that I'll harm them while holding them. I glance once more at Emily and find an expression full of awe on her face as she gazes back at me. I grin and look back down at our son and daughter, vowing to always be there for them.

"You know, we can't just keep calling them Thing 1 and Thing 2," Emily says. I can still see the exhaustion in her eyes, but she looks happy. Over the moon kind of happy. I'm pretty certain I've got the exact same look on my face.

"How very Dr. Seuss of you," I reply, but take her words to heart. We'd argued over names for months, unable to find any that we really liked. We finally gave up and instead decided that we'd have to see them first before we could think of any names. "You have a suggestion?"

"Maybe not a first name, but I thought we might give him your father's name," she says softly after a moment, almost as though she isn't sure she should be suggesting it.

I feel tears form in my eyes as I think of how proud my father would be of me today. How happy he'd be. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says with a nod. "He was a good man, and helped make you who are today. I can't think of any better criteria for a namesake."

"Okay, so he's got his middle name, but what about his first name?" She shrugs and tilts her head in thought. A thought occurs to me. "What about Matthew?" I say softly. It's my turn to wonder whether I should be suggesting it. I know how important he was to her, but he's also a source of pain for her, even after all these years.

I see her eyes immediately fill with emotion. "You don't have to say that," she says with a shake of her head. "You don't have to, just because I suggested your father's name."

"I'm not suggesting it because of that. He was important to you, and helped make you who you are today," I say, echoing her words to me.

She begins to shake her head, but I shoot her a look that surprisingly makes her stop. "Okay," she agrees with a small nod. "Matthew Benjamin Morgan," she says, looking down at the baby boy in her arms that is sleeping peacefully.

"Not Morgan-Prentiss?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No, he's a Morgan for sure."

I smile at her words. It hadn't stung when she hadn't taken my name – after all, it's not a huge deal in today's society, but I'd wondered what she'd want to do with the twins' surname. Surprisingly it was a conversation we hadn't had until this now. "Matthew Benjamin Morgan, it is then. And what about this little princess?" I ask, peeking down at the baby girl safely ensconced in my arms.

A moment of silent thought passes. "What about Hadley for her middle name?" Emily suggests, her voice taking on that soft tone once more.

"Hadley," I repeat, considering it. "Where did you find that one?"

"It was my grandfather's name, but I've heard it used for a girl before too."

I know how important her grandfather had been to her, and I feel like giving both kids a piece of our collective pasts is definitely something that is important to both of us, so it's an easy decision. I look down at her in my arms and nod as it just seems to fit her. "Okay, so we've got her middle name. But what about the first name?"

"I picked the middle name, you pick the first name."

I think over the long lists of names that we'd gone through during her pregnancy, but only one name seems to come to mind.

"Tegan," I say slowly, trying it out and seeing how it suits her. "Tegan Hadley Morgan."

Emily tilts her head and echoes the name. "Tegan Hadley Morgan…I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says with a nod. "It suits her."

"We named our kids, Emily," I say with a grin, the feeling of being a father now having taken hold fully. "We're parents."

"We're parents," she repeats with a smile.

"Elizabeth," I say as I bump into her in the hallway. "Hi."

"Hello, Derek," she says with an excited smile. I don't think I've ever seen her like this…and I'd wager neither has Emily. But I think it's because today she's just like any other grandmother – excited, anxious, worried, happy…and any number of other emotions. "How's Emily doing?"

"Good," I say, flashing her a grin. "She's good. Tired, obviously, but good."

"Everything went okay?"

"Yep. Two healthy babies, albeit a little on the heavier side."

Elizabeth winces. "Ouch."

"Yeah," Derek says with a laugh. "She's blaming me for that."

"No issues though?"

"None," I assure her. "You can come on in and see her if you'd like."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude…"

"You're not. She's been asking after you. And you've got to meet your grandchildren after all, Grandma," I say with a wink, happy I can chat easily with her now. She'd been so much more…tightly wound and prim and proper when I'd first met her, but she's relaxed a lot over the years, and I can see now where Em's gotten a lot of her mannerisms and quirks from, even if both women would probably deny it.

"She has?"

I'm a little surprised that out of everything I said, including the Grandma comment, she chooses to focus on the fact that her daughter has been asking after her. But then again, after all those years of a strained and nearly non-existent relationship, I suppose it isn't so surprising.

"Yeah, she's excited to introduce you to your grandchildren. Come on, I'll walk you in."

"Okay."

I lead her into the room, and find Em leaning over and stroking Tegan's cheek. "Hey, Princess," I croon. "Look who I found in the hall."

Emily turns and her face brightens at the sight of her mother. "Mom," she says with a wide smile. "Hey."

"Oh, Emily," Elizabeth whispers, words apparently failing the illustrious former Ambassador as she makes her way toward her daughter. She immediately wraps her arms around Emily when she reaches her, holding her tightly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Emily says as they part. "But I would like you to meet your grandson, Mathew Benjamin Morgan," she says, gesturing to the bundle of blankets holding our son. "And your granddaughter," she continues, as she leans over and strokes Tegan's cheek once more, "Tegan Hadley Morgan."

At the mention of Tegan's middle name, Elizabeth's eyes fill and her hand covers her mouth as she inhales sharply. "Hadley…" she whispers softly before pausing for a moment. "He would've been so proud of you, Emily…the woman you've become, everything that you've accomplished…he would've been so proud. I'm proud of you."

I watch as Emily's eyes fill too, and the mother and daughter share another hug, this one tighter and fiercer. It warms my heart to see them so close, after hearing and seeing just how far apart they'd drifted before.

"You want to hold them?"

"Of course," Elizabeth says with a wide smile. "I'd love to."

I step forward quickly and help get her situated with her two grandchildren in her arms before pulling out my phone and snapping a few photos. I slide my phone back into my pocket and make my way over to Emily's side. I perch myself on the edge of her bed and slide an arm around her. She leans into my hold and I lean down to kiss the top of her head, reveling in how happy she is. I swear I can see the happiness radiating off of her.

"Emily, Derek-," Elizabeth begins, but finds herself again at a loss for words. She looks up and meets our gazes, and I can see the emotion in her eyes again. "They're beautiful."

"Knock, knock."

I look up when I hear the familiar voice of my mother. I get up carefully, making sure not to wake Emily who had finally drifted off twenty minutes before. She'd been stubbornly insisting she wasn't tired, even though everyone knew she was exhausted.

Mama begins to make her way into the room and I meet her halfway to engulf her in a tight hug. "Hey, Mama."

"How's Emily?" she asks immediately.

"She's good, she's good. Exhausted, but good."

"I'd expect nothing less from a long labour and delivery. And the babies?"

"Perfectly healthy. A little bigger than average for twins, but healthy."

"And everything went smoothly?"

I nod.

"And what about you? How are you doing?"

"I'm…all over the place."

"Your father was the same way with you and your sisters."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yes. He was everything from teary-eyed, to overprotective, to being in total disbelief about it all."

"That sounds about right."

"He cried each time," she says, a smile spreading on her face, no doubt at the memory of Dad.

I think back to my own tears that I'd barely been able to hold back.

"He would be so proud of you, baby," she says softly, interrupting my reverie.

I feel a tightness in my chest as emotion threatens to overwhelm me again. I wrap my arms around Mama again and squeeze tightly, trying to convey everything in just the embrace.

"Now where are my grandbabies?" she asks as we break apart.

I chuckle and then gesture for her to follow me over to where they are happily taking in their surroundings.

"Oh, let Emily sleep, Derek," Mama says as her eyes drift toward Emily who is asleep on the bed. "She needs to rest."

"She made me promise to bring you in when you got here, whether she was awake or not."

"Really?"

"Actually, she made me promise to wake her up, but I think I'll leave her be for a little while. Now come on," I say and gesture for her to follow. "This is Tegan Hadley Morgan," I say, gently rubbing my daughter's tummy. "And that," I say as I nod for her to pick him up, "is Matthew Benjamin Morgan."

Mama's eyes mist over at the mention of Dad's name, and she scoops Matthew up and holds him tightly to her chest. "Oh, Derek. This is- Your father would be proud for his grandson to have his name."

I nod. "Emily's the one who suggested it."

Mama turns to look at Emily who is still napping. "She's a keeper, that one."

"Don't have to tell me twice. I'm never letting her go."

I know it's a bit cheesy, and a few cliches worked their way in there, but...thoughts? Let me know.