#day26

He tasted the name in his mind and found nothing—only a hollow echo that didn’t belong to him. Whoever she thought he was… she was wrong.

So so so wrong.

He tilted his head slightly, confusion twitching underneath his skin as his boots—gray, weightless—scraped against the cold tile. A lab. Sterile metal walls reflecting ghostly green light that flickered from the hummering swirl behind him. Shelves of jars and tools glinting like teeth, waiting to bite. The air tasted… bitter—chemical and burned.

“Where… am I,” his voice crawled up his throat like something resurrected. That echo—that eerie reverberation—it wasn’t his. It couldn’t be. His own voice felt like a stranger wearing him from the inside.

“You… you don’t know?” a male voice cut in.

Phantom’s head jerked in the direction of the voice—he hadn’t even realized there was a second human here at all. The boy stepped into the thin spill of green light—a red beret crooked on his head, round glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, fear tightening every line of his face. His hands were lifted slightly, palms open.

“No, I don’t,” Phantom growled.

Why did everyone expect answers from him? It was annoying.

He took a step—just one—and a scorched, metallic stench invaded his senses, like burned copper and flesh. His nose wrinkled, eyes squeezing shut as his hand shot up to cover his face.

“What the hell is that awful smell?”

“Dude, you stepped into the portal,” the guy stammered. “And—and it messed you up.”

Portal.

The word pounded against the emptiness of his skull—searching for something to attach to—and finding nothing but a void. A black, suffocating chasm where memories should be.

But there was just… nothing.

“What do you mean, dude?” Phantom spat, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. He leaned into that sharp edge of anger—at least that felt real.

He dug deeper into himself—searching, clawing—and then—

White-hot agony detonated inside of his head. His knees buckled. A strangled sound—half groan, half snarl—tore from his chest as his right hand clutched at his temple, fingers digging hard enough he could’ve cracked bone. The room swung, warped—lights bleeding into each other like they were melting.

“Danny!” her voice sliced through him. A hand—warm and human, too human—landed on his left shoulder. Too fucking close. Too fucking real. Too fucking much—

It was wrong.

“Get off of me!” Phantom roared, his gray-gloved fingers snapping around her wrist like a claw. His grip tightened—muscles straining, bones grinding.

“You’re—you’re hurting me, Danny,” she whimpered. Her gasp hit his ears like… music.

She was afraid of him. Wasn’t she? And something inside him purred awake.

His lips pulled into a slow, twisted smirk—crimson glow spilling across his eyes. A low laugh slipped out—broken, dangerous, delighted.

He rose to his feet without loosening his grip, towering over her—letting the fear collect in her gaze like precious ectoplasm.

Danny.

If that… was who she thought he was…

Wrong. Again. Everything was wrongwrongwrong.

Her pulse fluttered fast beneath his fingers—like a frantic bird trapped in bone. The warmth of her skin bled into his palm, nauseatingly alive.

Phantom stared, fascinated.

“Danny, please,” she stuttered, tears pooling again, her voice splintering. “You know me. You know Tucker. You know us. You have to. Remember? Just—think—”

Think? Thinking was the damn problem here.

He tightened the grip once more.

The male—Tucker—stepped forward, panic all over his face. “Dude—stop! That’s Sam—your best friend. She—she’s been helping you. She—she cares about you—“

A flash—a flicker—something like a memory scraped the back of his skull. A girl with black hair. A smile. Someone saying his name with pure warmth.

Her.

Then the feeling of a thousand needles driving beneath his skin all at once. A choked scream crushed behind clenched teeth. His vision erupted into blinding white, and cold fire of ghostly radiation tore through his veins—searing, devouring—like rewriting him from the inside out.

The memory cracked apart like glass and vanished back into the void.

He hissed, stumbling back a step as the pain flared through his head again. Sam freed her wrist, cradling it to her chest—a red mark already blooming like a warning.

She didn’t run. She stayed.

Why? Why would she even stay? Why would she even care? Why didn’t he feel anything?

“I don’t care what you call me,” he rasped, voice trembling with rage and confusion, ”but stop calling me him. I am not—Danny.”

He clawed at his chest—at that black suit stamped with the white DP insignia—digging right into the emptiness where something used to sit, used to burn—and came up with handfuls of nothingness. A dead star where a heart should be.

“Danny, listen to me—” Sam’s tears spilled harder now.

“No!” His powerful voice flared like a pulse, rattling metal shelves and sending tools clattering. His breath came as vapor—frost creeping across the floor. “Don’t speak like you fucking know me—you don’t. You’re lying. You’re lying to my damn face.” His voice cracked—the sound sharp and raw like something tearing.

Why was he even yelling? Was it at her or at the darkness inside his head?

He didn’t know. Didn’t care. He shouldn’t care.

His fingers dug into his own pearl white hair—desperate, frustrated, trembling. “Why—why can’t I remember? Why can’t I remember anything?”

Silence bled into the room.

“Because… you—you died.” Her answer broke in a whisper. “Again.”

His pupils blew wide. The world tilted.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

The word thrummed through his bones. He stumbled backward until his spine hit the far wall, his breaths sharp and uneven.

“Wha—what? What did you just say?”

She stepped forward slowly, like approaching a wounded animal.

“You—you died in this… in this lab,” she said softly. “Your parents… they were trying to build a portal to another world, another dimension. It—it went wrong. You stepped inside and—“

Images lashed across his mind—lightning, pain, screaming, a blinding green and white explosion ripping through every cell—

He collapsed again, both hands clamped over his ears as he gritted his teeth, as if he could block the memories from chewing through him.

“No—no—stop—“

He didn’t know who he was begging. Didn’t even want to beg in the first place. It had to stop.

Sam fell to her knees beside him, hands hovering—probably afraid to touch him again.

Because why had he hurt her? Why had his hand tightened instead of letting go? It felt wrong—like something human inside him recoiled—but man, it also felt pleasant, a twisted purr of satisfaction blooming in his chest.

He folded his arms tight across his torso—defensive, guarded—thoughts clawing through him. As if crossing his arms might protect him from whatever monster was waking up inside.

That… that couldn’t be right. But it felt so right.

Dammit.

“But you came back,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Half human, half ghost. You… you saved people. You saved me.” Her eyes shimmered, like her tears were gathering faster than she could blink them away.

Half ghost, half human… is that why he felt some weakness? How can… someone like him even become… this? But that didn’t matter now.

“If I saved you…” Phantom breathed, head tilting in a slow, unnatural arc as he studied her face. “Then why do I feel like a monster?” His expression was hollow—empty in a way that was so much worse than anger.

Sam’s breath hitched. She shook her head hard, words stumbling out between trembling sobs. “You’re not—you’re not a monster—”

A low laugh escaped him—humorless, dead. “Then why,” he asked, leaning in just enough for her to feel his cold breath, “do you look so damn terrified of me?”

Sam went still. Completely still. Her eyes wide—tears still clinging to her lashes.

His smirk died—carved off his face in an instant—replaced by something far more dangerous. A fractured grief. Sharp enough to cut bone-deep. His right hand rose and trembled, a gray glove brushing his line of sight. He stared at his own fingertips as if they were foreign.

“What… what did I do,” he whispered, voice scraping raw, “to become this… thing?”

His crimson eyes jerked toward the portal—a swirling maw of ghostly green, snarling and spitting sparks. The hunger radiating from it thrummed straight through him, vibrating in his bones. It was a mirror. A destiny carved in ectoplasm. A warning—one he could feel sinking into his ribs.

He pushed himself upright in a single, slow motion. His shadow oozed along the floor behind him, warped and wrong—again—shaped like someone else was pulling the strings.

A stranger wearing his skin. Someone he didn’t know. Someone he’d probably fear. Someone who laughed when the girl screamed.

“What’s… wrong with me?” The words leaked out thin and fragile—barely human.

But that fragility… it shattered in seconds.

A sharp, violent twist clawed at the corner of his mouth—that grin again—stretching too wide, like it was trying to tear his face apart. He pivoted toward them, movements stiff and predatory, every muscle drawn tight like a wire ready to snap. His eyes burned with a feral light as they locked onto the girl and the boy frozen across the room. His fingers curled slow and tight—fists trembling—tendons coiled beneath his skin like something inside was trying to break out through the flesh.

“You think,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “that you can brainwash me?” He stepped forward, each step a hard crack of boots against tile—deliberate and punishing.

“You really believe… you can weld my mind back together with your pathetic lies?” Another step—the fluorescent lights flickered violently overhead.

“You think…” His voice dipped in venomous spit, “I ever cared about you?”

One last step—close enough to feel the warm tremor of Sam’s breath against his cold skin. Close enough that if he leaned forward, his teeth would graze her throat. Close enough that he could rip the fear out of her throat with his teeth if he wanted.

Dammit, he wanted to taste it. So so so bad. He wanted to feel the scream break inside her chest.

“You’re so…” he murmured, leaning his face inches from hers, “so. very. wrong.”

His words rippled the air—a glitching frequency, warped and cruel. Even the shadows recoiled.

“Sam! Don’t just stand there, run!” Behind Sam, the boy—Tucker’s voice cracked.

Phantom chuckled. Slow and thick and malevolent.

“Run? Where?” He leaned in, lips brushing Sam’s ear. “There’s no door that can keep me out.” His gloved fingers, ice-cold and merciless, ghosted up her chin, just hard enough to promise pain. He tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “There’s no world where you can escape me.”

Somewhere deeper in the lab, metal clanged—sharp, sudden—a fallen beaker shattering across the tiles. The crash ricocheted through the silence like a gunshot.

She flinched. Her shoulders jumped. Breath caught.

His smile only stretched wider—teeth glinting like fangs in the green light.

He was enjoying this. Every flinch. Every tear. Every scrap of fear she fed him.

It felt wrong. And it felt so incredibly right. A perfect nightmare he couldn’t—wouldn’t—pull himself out of.

“You never stood a chance.”

⟢ I seriously thought for a second I was doing this whole event so so so wrong. Like—me, being the not-genius I am, assumed the first word was the title and the prompt was the summary. But apparently you can mix them both? Pfft. I’m already doing it this way and I’m sticking to it.

⟢ Sometimes my brain just… refuses to comprehend basic instructions. I had all the confidence in the world, until I suddenly felt socially awkward the moment I realized it. WHEEZE

⟢ I have no idea where I was even going with this one shot. I just had one vision stuck in my mind—Danny with those eerie crimson eyes (like in Control Freaks). And what if… Danny stepped into the portal and came out with nothing? No memories. No idea who he is, where he is, or what happened to him. What if he didn’t become a hero this time… what if he came out already evil? Even when he was already the hero before he stepped back into the portal? Something something something like that.

You check your phone for the fourth time in the span of two minutes, thumb hovering over the screen. You’re waiting for the next update, some message, some sign that everything is fine. Of course, as always, Levi notices.

“She’s fine,” he says, cutting through your spiraling before it can fully take hold. He knows you too well.

You look up from the table, the low light of the restaurant lights catching in his eyes. They’re always so captivating. She’s with Hange. It’s Hange. What could possibly go—

No, you’re not going to finish that thought.

“I know,” you say, your voice threaded with a hint of worry you can’t quite hide. “I just… this is her first time being without us in a long time.”

Levi leans back slightly in his chair. “She’s four, not an infant.”

You exhale, tangling your fingers in your hair. “I know she’s four. That’s not the point.” Then, for some reason, it hits you all at once. How quickly time flies. “Can you believe that? She’s four already.”

Levi’s expression softens slightly, a thoughtful look settling into place. “Time’s weird.”

“That’s one way to say it,” you huff, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It feels like yesterday she couldn’t even walk.”

He hums in agreement, tapping his fingers lightly against the table. And then, completely out of nowhere, he says, “Time to make another?”

You stare at him. “Excuse me?”

There’s the faintest hint of teasing in his gaze now. “You heard me.”

You stare for half a second longer before snorting, shaking your head. “One is enough.” More than enough, you think, remembering the chaos, the sleepless nights, the sheer unpredictability of a tiny human with too much energy and zero common sense or spatial awareness. 

Levi just tilts his head and sucks in a breath. “Alright,” he says easily. “But I’m still not pulling out.”

You choke on your drink. “Levi—” you hiss, darting your eyes around the restaurant, hoping no one heard even though he said it almost under his breath. “You cannot just say that in public.” He shrugs, completely unbothered. You snort. “Just don’t fuck with my birth control.”

“I wouldn’t,” he replies, taking a sip of his own drink.

Your mind drifts back to your daughter. You can only hope that she somehow tired herself out faster than usual and is settled into bed by now. She’s fine, you tell yourself again. She has to be.

Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

.

The moment you open the front door, you know something is wrong from the silence. It’s too suspicious. You think for one foolish second that your daughter is just asleep, but you know better. You step inside slowly, Levi right behind you. Your eyes sweep over the living room, and you stop in your tracks.

“...Oh.”

There are markers. Everywhere. On the walls. On the couch. On what used to be a clean coffee table and is now a canvas of chaotic color. Your daughter’s toys are scattered, a battlefield of stuffed animals and blocks and whatever else she managed to get her hands on. 

Standing in the middle of it all is Hange. Covered in marker. Their arms, their face, even their clothes are streaked with scribbles. Their glasses are barely holding together, one arm secured with what looks like a very desperate attempt at taping it. They sheepishly smile at you.

“Well,” they say, far too cheerfully, “at least she was entertained.”

You bang your forehead against the wall.

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At her silence, his concern only grows, “What’s wrong? Where’s Jane? Do I have to beat someone up–”

“What no!” she exclaimed. 

“Then spit it out,” he replied. 

Mumbling softly she spoke barely above a whisper, “We’ve got a code red”

“Sorry I didn’t hear that,” Jason said once more. 

Ellie huffs, frustrated and embarrassed all at once. “I said, Jane got her period”

This was not how either of them imagined this moment to go. Sure Ellie and Jane were well aware of periods, both of their parents were doctors of course they knew. 

That wasn’t the surprise here. The surprise was getting it out in public, on a day out with their cousins, Jay and Dami.

…not even Steph, Cass or Babs were here. 

Jason blinks. 

Once. 

Twice. 

Taking in the information. “Oh, is that all?” 

“Is that–Is that all??–ughhh, I wish Mom or Dad were here,” she screws her eyes shut.

Jason snaps back into focus, hands settling on her shoulder, “Don’t worry. It’s perfectly fine, we can handle this” 

“How?”

Unfortunately neither of the girls had the foresight to bring pads. Because neither of them imagined this happening here. Today. In the midst of a museum. 

How. 

That was the million dollar question. Jason could think of a thousand ways to take down a crook in a second. To pick locks. To formulate plans. 

And yet when his cousin asked him what to do about her sister getting her period. 

He was stumped. 

“Ah, there you are,” Damian came up to them, “There is a particularly interesting artifact that I think you’ll enjoy Ellie–Where’s Jane?” 

His brow arched, glancing between the both of them. 

Jason leans over, “We’ve got a bit of a situation”

“Who do we need to beat up?” Damian asks out of instinct. 

Ellie buries her head in her hands. Groaning as she waves at Jason to explain. 

Jason shakes his head at Damian’s question. 

“Nothing like that”

“Then what is it Todd?” he pushes once more. 

“Jane got her period”

“Oh”

“Not you too,” Ellie let out a muffled complaint. 

“We’ll just go stop at the grocery store and get her pads, simple.” Damian explained, whilst Jason nodded. 

Ellie lifted her head from her hands, “It’s not that simple”

“Why not?” They looked at her once more. 

Leaning in she added, “Cause, there was a bit of a staining issue”

Jason clicked his tongue, in complete understanding. 

He shrugs off his jacket, passing it to Ellie. “Tell Jane to wear this, should be long enough to cover any stains. We’ll hit the road and get this sorted, no reason to worry,” looking her in the eyes, trying to instill a sense of calm. 

She breathes in deeply, lips curled tightly, as she takes the jacket. A firm nod before she turns and disappears into the bathrooms once more. 

Only to reappear with Jane, Jason’s jacket slipped on far too big on her stature, and yet doing its job perfectly. With the sleeves pulled up, the edge of the jacket reached mid thigh. 

Jane’s mouth curled into a frown, discomfort wracking her body, while Ellie walked beside her. 

“C’mon, let’s get going,” Jason tilts his head, shoving a hand into his pocket. Whilst his other hand patted Jane’s shoulder. “It’s all going to be fine” 

They nodded as they left the exhibits. 

Leading to them stopping by the supermarket. 

Damian and Ellie wander the aisles, as she goes and grabs at all her sister’s favourite snacks – perhaps even smuggling a few of her own preferences. 

Meanwhile Damian was standing before a wall of various period products. Eyes analytical. Assessing. An expression of complete and utter seriousness adorning his features. 

No sense of embarrassment. Not meak. 

Standing tall as he looks over each one. Trying to determine the perfect choice. 

His hand slips into his pocket, before reluctantly dialling in for help, for backup. 

Unfortunately it was his second choice that answered. 

Not his first. 

“Brown” 

“Dami, hey. How’s the day out with Bubble and Trouble?” Steph asked, the little nickname for the two girls having stuck since they were young. 

“Fine–ok.” His brows knit as the words upon each package overlap and only cause confusion.

“Ok? Then what’s wrong?” she asks once more. 

His mouth curls into a frown, “What would you suggest is the best sanitary product for a teenage girl?”

Steph almost hacked up a lung from the question. 

“Brown this is serious”

“No, no, of course. Uh, well what do they have?”

“That’s the problem, they have everything. How do you even choose?”

She stifles a laugh, “I wish I was there,” she murmurs before continuing, “There should be ones that specify that it's for teens,” she walks him through what would be appropriate. 

“Oh and make sure you pick up plenty of chocolate and ice cream, make sure she’s comfortable–”

He nods, even if she couldn’t see it, “Don’t worry, I have Ellie picking out snacks”

“Perfect”

He leaves the aisle, before locating Ellie, as they leave the store. 

Once home, Damian and Ellie sat at the couch, eating ice cream straight from the container. 

Unfortunately as soon as they get back to the house. 

Jane was not as cool and collected as she was before. Changed into a pair of sweats, a need for comfort as her body fought to make her feel uncomfortable. 

Fretting over her pants, the ones she was wearing when this all had occurred. They were her favourite pair. 

Now stained. 

Ruined. 

As she sulked over them. Sat on her bedroom floor. On the brink of tears. As the emotions of the day overwhelm her. 

Jason had knocked on the door, concern etched across his features, “Knock, knock. You decent?” 

He waited for her response. Not pushy. 

Just wanting her to know he was there for her. 

“Yeah,” she said quietly. 

He opened the door to find her, a look of sadness on her face. 

“Hey are you feeling alright?” 

“Wha- yeah I’m fine. Just. Did it really have to happen today? I got my pants all ruined, now I won’t be able to get the blood out” 

Jason offers a hand, with a raised brow, “Can I have a look?”

“Really?” she asks. 

“It’s just a bit of blood, nothing I haven’t seen before,” he waves off any hesitance. 

She hands it over, as he glances at it. 

Clicking his tongue, “This is nothing, we can get this out easy, as if nothing ever happened”

“How?” 

“First we’ll need some cold water,” Jason states with a curt nod. “I’ll show you how to get it out, so you know how to do it for next time”

Rummaging through the cupboard Jason manages to find some hydrogen peroxide, just like he knew there would be. 

Old habits die hard – you were the one who had taught him how to get blood stains out of clothes. 

It felt only fitting he use your tricks to teach your daughter the same. 

Even if the circumstances were entirely different. 

“First we’ll use a little bit of this, let it settle into the fabric, doing a little test to make sure it doesn’t damage the colour” 

“And how do you test that?”

“Using a little cotton swab with the peroxide and rubbing it against the fabric, if it lifts any of the dye then we’ll have to use a different tactic”

Step by step, Jason walks Jane through his actions. 

“Gently scrub with a toothbrush, rinse it out, then we simply put in the wash, and it should come out, good as new”

Just as the washing machine starts churning, before ushering her away, “Now go have some chocolate or ice cream, before Dami and Ellie finish it all”

She grins at him, hugging him before slipping away. 

And perhaps once the load is over. 

Not a single sign of blood etched into the seams. 

“Wow, how’d you know this would work?” Jane says as she inspects her pants, Ellie peering over her shoulder, impressed. 

“Uh–” Jason panics for a moment. The fact that their family were a bunch of vigilantes, hadn’t exactly been brought up just yet. 

And he wasn’t about to be the one to say it. 

Jason’s eyes flicker between Jane and Ellie peering at him in curiosity, before glancing over to Damian. 

Who hastily signals him to shut up. From behind them, a hand doing a cutting motion in front of his neck. 

“I read a lot…” Jason answers. 

“Didn’t realise they had laundering advice in Jane Austen?” Ellie teased. 

“Maybe you just haven’t gotten to that chapter yet,” he retorted. Knowing full well it was bullshit. 

The girls laugh at him, whilst Damian pinches his nose. 

“So I figure it’s your choice of movie tonight,” Jason looks at Jane. 

Who smiles widely, glancing at her sister as they nod in silent agreement. A twinkle in their eyes. 

The stress of the day, now long forgotten, as they stay up watching their movies. Jane and Ellie falling asleep slumped against the couch, their cat Snickers curled up on Jane’s lap. 

Damian’s eyes having drifted shut, asleep on a loveseat, as their dog, Bailey settles by his feet. 

The house was calm. 

Peaceful. 

One movie had turned into three, before the night sky blanketed the city. 

Its peace disturbed ever so slightly with the faint rustling of keys, your hushed murmurs and little laughs reach Jason’s ears. 

He glances at everyone once more before walking over to meet you and Michael as you enter. 

He holds up a finger to his mouth, “Shh, all the kids are sleeping”

You arch a brow, “You know that Damian’s an adult right–he’s literally in med school right now”

“He’s still Demon Spawn to me,” he quips, as you wrap your arms around him in a hug, he whispers looking between you and Michael who nodded in greeting, “Did you guys have a good day?” 

You smile, hand grasping Michael’s once more, leaning into him. 

“It was perfect, thanks for looking after the girls today”

Jason shrugged, “No stress, you know we always love hanging out with them. Dami’s got a real soft spot for them”

You snicker, “We all know that you do too” 

“Anything interesting happen today?” Michael asked. 

“Well, I don’t know if Jane would want me to tell you, but we had a bit of an incident.” 

“An incident?” you asked, brows furrowing in concern. 

Jason waves his hand, "Everything's fine, everyone’s fine. It’s just that Jane,” he sighs trying to think of the words, before biting the bullet, “Jane got her period”

Your eyes widen, “You should’ve called” 

“It’s all fine, we had it handled. Besides Damian had Steph on speed dial, and picked up everything Jane would need”

“How’d she take it?” Michael questioned, a little worried over his daughter. Feeling bad he wasn’t there for her. 

“Like a champ, Jane’s fine. Both her and Ellie said you already spoke about it, so they weren’t panicked. If anything Jane was more worried over the stain on her pants than getting her period” 

You sigh in relief, “Thanks Jay, I’m glad you were here for them”

“Just glad I could help,” he nodded. 

Your mouth pulls into a frown, “I should probably check on that stain, make sure it hasn’t set–” you begin to move. 

Until Jason shakes his head, “All taken care of” 

“Jason,” you tilt your head with a small appreciative smile. 

“Just used the tricks you taught me,” he smiled, before jutting his head, “Now go get ready to sleep, I’ll go try and move the others.” 

“Thanks Jay,” Michael nodded with a smile. Jason merely patted his back before disappearing into the living room. 

Michael’s arms wrapping around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

“Can you imagine Damian in an aisle of period products?” he murmured. 

While you chuckled, hands holding his as they settled around your waist. 

“It’s definitely a funny thought”

“Our girls are certainly very lucky to have such caring cousins,” he added. 

You hum in agreement. 

“They’ve had them wrapped around their fingers since they were babies”

“We do have some pretty sweet kids, just as sweet as their mom,” he flatters you. 

Sighing in happiness, you push him to your bedroom, “I’ll meet you soon, I’ll just go help Jason move the girls”

“I can help–” he begins to say before you shoot him a look. 

“Honey, I love you, but you and I both know you’re back won’t be able to handle lifting them,” leaning up you kiss his cheek, while he nods reluctantly, slipping away from you. 

Walking into the lounge room, you see them all so peacefully settled. Lights dimmed. TV now switched off. Jason already lifting Ellie from the couch, gentle as to not disturb her. 

Jane stirs ever so slightly, while you walk over to her, prying Snickers off her lap, your arms wrapping around her to lift her.  

She curls into your arms, just like she used to when she was younger. 

God you were lucky you still took up weights. 

Carrying her with ease, walking through the halls before settling her into bed. 

About to leave, before her hand clasps around your wrist, eyes flickering as she murmurs, “Mom”

“Shh, sweetheart, go back to sleep,” you gently stroked her hair. A smile slipping onto your face. 

No matter how old she got, all you could see was the little baby that brought you peace all those years ago. 

“Love you Mom,” she mumbled with a small smile, eyes drifting shut. 

Leaning down, you kiss her forehead. 

“Love you too”

All too quickly your girls were growing up, it’d only be a matter of time before they would be leaving the home. 

The thought of it made you misty eyed. Biting your lip. 

It was just like when your nieces and nephews were growing up. Time passes in a blink of an eye. 

One moment she was a little baby swaddled in your arms and the next she was fiercely independent. 

You sigh wistfully. 

Leaving the room before slipping into your own, as Michael’s arm wraps around you, holding you close. Peppering little kisses along your cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured. 

“And I love you too”

A wave of calm settles into your home. 

Peace. 

Peace that you never once believed could be yours. 

But it was. 

And it was real. 

A loving home, a loving family, and a loving husband all within reach. 

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the mini chapter inspired by domaystic. while they weren't technically baby sitting, they were looking after their cousins. start of dabbling into exploring Jane and Ellie and their many different adventures with all the people who baby sit them. Let me know what you thought ✨ I am slowly working on a few other parts to add to the baby sitter chronicles, exploring a few other characters get pulled into sitter duty for Jane and Ellie. Comments, Reblogs and Likes are welcomed and appreciated 💕 As mentioned this occurs after Chap.40: Days Wrapped Up In Your Embrace Feel free to find the Rinse & Repeat Series Masterlist here 🩺 Or check out my overall Masterlist here