I woke at 3 AM to an empty bed.
Not unusual, in itself. Declan often worked late, sometimes didn't come to bed at all. But something felt different. Wrong. The penthouse was too quiet.
I checked his office. Empty.
The kitchen. Empty.
The living room. Empty.
Then I heard it. A sound from the nursery. Soft. Muffled. Crying.
I ran.
The door was open. Inside, Declan sat in the rocking chair, Marcus in his arms, both of them crying.
Not Marcus. Just Declan. Marcus was asleep, peaceful, oblivious.
"Declan?"
He looked up. His eyes were red, swollen, desperate.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't." I crossed the room, knelt beside him. "What happened?"
He shook his head. Swallowed.
"Nightmare," he finally whispered. "The same one. My mother leaving. But this time—" His voice cracked. "This time, it was you. Walking away. Taking the kids. Leaving me alone."
My heart broke.
"Declan."
"I know it's not real. I know you're not going anywhere. But in the dream " He stopped. "In the dream, it felt so real. And I woke up and I had to see them. Had to make sure they were still here."
I took his free hand. Squeezed.
"We're here. We're not going anywhere."
"I know." He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I know that. But sometimes "
"Sometimes the fear doesn't care what you know."
He nodded. Swallowed again.
I stood, pulled him carefully into a hug—careful not to wake Marcus. He leaned into me, shaking.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm supposed to be strong. For you. For them."
"No." I held him tighter. "You're supposed to be human. That's all any of us can be."
We stayed in the nursery for a long time.
Marcus slept on. The city glittered beyond the windows. Declan's breathing slowly steadied.
"Tell me about it," I said finally. "The nightmare. Not just the fear the whole thing."
He was quiet for a moment. Then:
"I'm five. Maybe six. Standing in the hallway of my mother's house. She's at the door, suitcase in hand. I'm calling for her. 'Mommy, don't go. Mommy, please.' She doesn't even look back."
I held his hand.
"Then I'm older. Teenager. She's at the door again. Same suitcase. Same leaving. I don't call out this time. I just watch."
"And then?"
"Then I'm here. Now. And it's you." His voice broke. "You're at the door. The kids are with you. And you're leaving. And I can't I can't make you stay."
I cupped his face. Made him look at me.
"I'm not leaving. I'm never leaving. Do you hear me?"
He nodded.
"Say it."
"I hear you."
"Say the words, Declan."
He took a breath. "You're not leaving. You're never leaving."
"Neither are you. Neither are we. This is forever."
He kissed me. Soft. Grateful.
"I love you."
"I love you too. Now let's go back to bed."
We didn't sleep.
Just held each other, watching the sky lighten, talking about everything and nothing.
"I used to think the nightmares would stop," he said. "When I got older. When I had success. When I had you."
"And now?"
"Now I know they're part of me. They'll probably always be part of me." He looked at me. "But they don't control me anymore. You helped with that."
"How?"
"You stayed." He kissed my forehead. "Every time. You stayed."
I held him tighter.
"Always."
In the morning, Lily found us in the nursery.
"Daddy? Why are you sleeping in here?"
Declan blinked awake. Smiled. "Just wanted to be close to you guys."
Lily considered this. Then she climbed onto his lap, curled into his chest.
"I like when you're close."
"I like it too, baby."
Marcus woke up then, saw the pile of people, and crawled over to join. Soon we were all tangled together Lily, Marcus, Declan, me a knot of limbs and love.
"Best way to wake up," Declan whispered.
"The best."