Somehow Charlie heard, even across the room. “Everything is your responsibility when there’s a flood in the kitchen and you’re the most handy guy here!”
“What about Uncle Baby? He’s also a mechanic…” He stopped, sighed, pushed off the wall. “I’ll be back. Don’t solve anything important without me.”
He headed toward the kitchen, where a concerning amount of foam was indeed visibly creeping across the floor. Charlie’s voice rose in pitch as she directed operations. Finn’s lower rumble offered something that sounded defensive.
“Ten bucks says Bear ends up soaking wet within five minutes,” Derek said.
“No bet. That’s a certainty.”
The moment settled back into something quieter. Denise stirred against Derek’s chest, made a soft mewling sound, then relaxed again. His hand never stopped its slow circles on her back.
“When Amari was born,” Dorian said slowly, “I didn’t sleep for two weeks.”
Derek looked at him.
“Ray and I got Theo and Savannah when they were older. Already formed. Already survivors in their own right. They’d been through things, seen things—they understood the world we lived in because they’d lived in it too.” Dorian paused, watching the reflection of Christmas lights in the dark window. “But Amari was so small. So new. She hadn’t survived anything yet.She was just... this tiny, perfect thing who had no idea the world could be dangerous.”
“A miracle,” Derek said quietly.
“That’s what Ray called her. But honestly, I called her a liability.” He almost smiled at the memory. “Ray hit me for that. But I meant it. Suddenly there was this fragile, helpless person who couldn’t defend herself, couldn’t run, couldn’t hide. And I was supposed to keep her safe.”
“You were scared.”
“Terrified. In a way I’d never been before.” Dorian turned slightly, meeting Derek’s eyes. “After what I’d lived through… the weeks of torture, the years of looking over my shoulder—that fear, I knew how to carry. I’d made my peace with it. But this was different. This was fear for someone who didn’t even know there was anything to fear.”
Derek absorbed that in silence. Denise chose that moment to fuss again—a small, irritated sound that threatened to escalate. He adjusted his hold, shifting her higher on his chest, and made a soft shushing noise. She settled.
“You had more reason to be scared than me,” Derek said. “I can take Denise anywhere. Park. Doctor. Grocery store. Anywhere.” He kept his voice low. “You couldn’t even exist publicly. Still can’t. If the wrong person found out you and Ray were alive?—”
“I know. Trust me, Ray and I live with the knowledge our enemies would come for us. Even now, after all these years if they knew we were alive.”
“So how did you protect a tiny baby when you couldn’t even show your face?”
It was a real question. Derek genuinely wanted to know.
Dorian thought about the years of hiding. Of falsifying records with Blaze and Neo’s help. Of raising children in theshadows, teaching them to lie about who they were before they could fully understand why.
“The fear doesn’t disqualify you,” he said finally. “That’s the thing I had to learn. I kept thinking I had to stop being afraid before I could be a good father. But that’s not how it works.”
“How does it work?”
“You let the fear make you better. You pay attention. You don’t take anything for granted.” He shrugged. “The same hypervigilance that kept you and I alive under circumstances that should’ve killed us? That same hypervigilance can keep us present.”
“How?”
Dorian shrugged. “I noticed everything about my kids because I was always watching for threats. Turns out that means you catch the small stuff too. The stuff that matters: first steps, them learning how to cartwheel, when they’re struggling with Algebra. I learned to use my hypervigilance to my advantage, rather than let it control me.”
Ray passed behind them, her hand brushing Dorian’s shoulder as she moved. No words. Just contact, acknowledgment, nearly forty years of loving each other compressed into a single gesture. She continued on toward the kitchen, probably for something to laugh at.
“She grounds you,” Derek observed.
“Every single damn day. I wouldn’t have made it without her.” Dorian watched his wife disappear into the foam-covered kitchen. “Find your anchors. Use them. That’s the other thing.”
“Becky’s mine.”
“Then you’re already ahead of where I was. Ray and I had to legitimately try to kill each other a few times before we figured that out.”
Quinn appeared at Derek’s elbow, her expression hopeful. “I haven’t had a turn in almost an hour to hold that precious girl.Annie’s been hogging her, as if she has a right as the blood-related grandmother rather than honorary. Would you mind?”
