[Hockey RPS - The Consequences of Irresponsible Behavior: A Goalie's Guide - Part Eight]

[annabeth.livejournal.com]

Over the next week, Chris does everything he can to avoid any type of confrontation with Nick. That's a lot more difficult than he'd like, simply because Nick is the captain of the team and there are practises and games to be attended.

It doesn't help that until they can come up with a more permanent solution, Malts is still watching Carey, and Nick is really sour about it.

Which is how Chris finds himself standing in front of the mirrors, drying off his hair after a shower after practise, and then Nick is walking towards him in the mirror before Chris can think of an escape.

"Is Malts still playing babysitter?" he asks. "I would have thought he'd turn you down."

"Well—" Chris begins, but Nick cuts him off with a snide,

"Then again, I guess no one ever turns you down, do they?"

"Well, I don't know, Nick; you did."

Nick sighs gustily. "How many times do I have to tell you, I made a mistake?"

"Why is it, that when I make a mistake, you can't stop reminding me of it, but you make one, and I am just supposed to forgive you?"

"I don't mean—"

"Yeah, okay, you have a double standard. I get it. Please just leave it alone. I have asked you and asked you—" but Nick is beginning to strip out of his gear, eyes never leaving his, and Chris knows—he just knows—that this is a seduction, no matter how public the place. And maybe that's the point: would Nick really do something as below the belt as try to get them caught by Helm in a compromising position?

The only way he can keep that from happening—if that is, indeed, Nick's purpose—is to keep from falling for it.

But that's not going to be easy, not when Nick does have attributes that Helm doesn't have. Chris wants to believe that he wouldn't be that shallow, but faced with Nick trying so hard, and with his own failings, he's not sure he has the willpower to withstand the temptation.

And he's not sure that getting married to Helm is going to help, either.

He closes his eyes and refuses to turn around.

"I'm not falling for it this time," he says, "and I'm not drunk enough for you to change my mind, either."

But the hands on his shoulders aren't Nick's; Chris would recognise Helm's hands anywhere.

"He's gone," he whispers in Chris's ear, his breath soft and soothing. "He walked out when he saw me walking in."

"I'm not going to cheat on you again," Chris murmurs. "I won't be that stupid again."

"I don't think Nick is going to come on to you again," Helmer says. "I think you got through to him this time."

"I hope so," Chris says fervently, turning and wrapping Helm in his arms. "Let's finish up here and get our baby and take him home."

///

"He's two months old today," Chris says as he dresses Carey in a little pair of shorts and a shirt with an alligator on it. Helm's eyes widen, and as he pats the baby on the belly, he replies,

"Has he been here that long already? It seems crazy."

"Well, it has been crazy. But I think things are starting to settle down. What do you think?"

"That I'm lucky—more than lucky, really—that you were here the day he got here, because I wouldn't have been able to do this without help."

"When he got here, you couldn't do this at all," Chris points out. "But now you're an old pro at it. Just think: when he gets a little older, you'll be even better at it. You probably won't even need me at all."

Helm smiles goofily. "I'll always need you, jerk."

"Yeah, me too," Chris says. Then, before it can get really disgusting, he tickles the baby and continues, "What do you say we take him to visit Malts today?"

"I don't know," Helm mumbles. And it hits Chris: Helm wants to keep the baby all to themselves for today. "I think we should celebrate and buy him a cupcake."

Chris looks at him for a long moment.

"He's too little to eat a cupcake," he says slowly.

"I know that," Helm says, "but we could buy him one and then we could share it."

"We could." Chris grins. "But it's not technically a birthday or anything."

"Shut up," Helm says, punching him in the arm. "I'm not getting all mushy."

"Sure you're not," Chris says, as if allowing Helm his delusion. "We could play video games while Carey naps, if you'd rather."

"I'm going to beat you at Augusta this time," Helm says, as Chris lifts Carey up into the air. He holds him up until the baby smiles, then brings him back down against his chest.

"Not likely," Chris snorts. "It may be the only course I can win, but I always win that course."

"We'll see about that," Helm says, ducking away from Chris's return punch and trotting off into the living room, laughing.

Then the phone rings, and he hears Helm pick it up. All is silence for long moments, then Helm lets out a sharp gasp, and Chris's heart constricts, worry taking up residence beneath his breastbone.

He glances down at the baby in his arms, all too aware of what month it is—and what that phone call might mean.

Sure enough, Helm enters the hallway with the phone, and they make a trade, phone for the baby.

He puts it to his ear and is not surprised at all to hear Jenna's voice, a raw, hoarse whisper.

"It's time, Chris. You should meet me at the hospital."

He very deliberately doesn't mention the need to get a babysitter first, to help out Helm. He just says,

"I will be there as soon as I can."

He wants to ask who's watching Syd and Mackenzie, whether she drove herself to the hospital, things like that, but he can ask her once he gets there. He waits for her response—a simple, "okay, I will be waiting"—and then pushes the button.

"I'm going to call—" he starts, but Helm stops him by kissing him gently, lovingly.

"You go ahead. I can watch him long enough to find Drapes or Malts or Julie to come over and help out."

Chris kisses him in return, in acknowledgement and thank-you, and runs quickly to throw on a pair of sweatpants and socks so that he can be there for the birth of his own kids.

It takes him five minutes and he's backing out down the driveway, Helm standing behind the storm door, holding Carey, his face unreadable.

Chris feels the anxiety flutter again and make a more permanent place for itself as he begins the trip down to the hospital.

He's nervous about the labour—but also, what is Helm thinking? When the reality of the twins really hits home, will Helm be angry?

///

Jenna is already dilated almost completely by the time Chris gets there, and he wonders just how long she waited to tell him it was time. Was she giving him more time to be alone with Helm, or is she still, on some level, angry about his betrayal?

Unsure, he's almost afraid to get too close to her bedside, but when he walks in, the doctor having explained to him the situation, she's smiling.

Her hair is in damp curls around her face and he knows that she's already had the epidural, so she ought to be feeling less pain.

It's been awhile since he's seen her: he hasn't, actually, since the night he stayed over what used to be their house and took care of what used to be their kids, though he has a hard time believing that he deserves to be called a 'father' to Mackenzie and Sydney at this point.

"I'm not going to bite you," Jenna says, still sounding hoarse. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"Liar," Chris tells her affectionately. "I remember the last time. It's always as bad as it looks."

"Well, thank you for telling me I, ah, look bad—ah!" She trails off, and he rushes to her side without even thinking, grasping for her hand and hanging on tight as she squeezes until the bones grind together.

The doctor had told Chris that they'd give her a few contractions and some time, but if she didn't deliver quickly, they were going to do a C-section because of the fact that she's having twins.

Selfishly, privately, and irrationally, considering he doesn't really like girls, he hopes that she won't have to have the surgery that will leave behind a scar.

///

Time passes. It's a cliché even to think it, but Chris does anyway, perched on the uncomfortable chair by Jenna's bed, clutching her hand (well, really she's clutching his).

But then the doctor says,

"Give me one more good push, and we might have the first one out, okay? You're doing great."

Jenna clings to his hand, takes a deep breath, and then pushes as she breathes out. The doctor looks up, finds Chris's eyes.

"Do you want to watch, daddy?" he asks, and Chris can only shake his head, too choked up to speak.

He barely has the time to respond, though, because a lusty cry fills the delivery room and the doctor holds up the baby, lying it against Jenna's chest.

"It's a boy!" he announces, and Chris crows in delight, though he doesn't mean to and hopes that Jenna won't ever tell his girls that, as if he could possibly love them any less.

"All right, Dad, cut the cord," the doctor says, and Chris does, feeling the same sort of wonder steal over him as it did the last two times he did this. The doctor gives Jenna a moment to breathe, even though she's still having contractions, and then tells her to start pushing again.

Jenna has an expression on her face like she wishes she didn't have to do this twice at once, but she obeys her doctor.

"And it's a girl," grins the doctor. He helps Chris cut the second cord, and then a nurse takes away baby boy Osgood to clean him up while Jenna bonds with her second newborn, their third baby girl. Chris is, frankly, ecstatic. Somehow the thought of another little girl to spoil has sent him into paroxysms of joy that he can't hide, if the look on Jenna's face is any indication.

Jenna kisses their daughter, and then another nurse steps up to take the baby and clean her, leaving Jenna to stare up at Chris.

"I know things have been rough," she says, "but I can't not love the father of the two precious babies that we just brought into this world together."

"You did all the work," Chris says, feeling gooey tears smearing his cheeks. She grins and touches his face.

"You contributed when necessary," she says softly.

"I love you too, even now," Chris says, knowing that though she probably expected he would, he had to give her the words. She did just deliver his twins. And he does love her, hell and damnation, since it would probably drive Helmer straight up a wall if he knew that's still the case.

"What are we going to name them?" Chris asks. Jenna blows a strand of hair out of her face.

"Max Anthony for the boy," she tells him. "I had that one picked out. But you can help choose a name for our new daughter."

"Shannon," Chris says, right as Jenna laughs and says, "Kelsey."

"Kelsey Shannon?" he asks, and Jenna leans closer, into him. He finds himself leaning forward, too, as if it's only natural.

"I don't know about Shannon," Jenna says. "I think..."

"You said I could help choose," Chris argues, and Jenna smiles dreamily.

"I did. All right."

Chris kisses her before he even really thinks about it: right on the mouth, brief but way too powerful not to mean anything, and he knows it instantly.

For just a split second, he'd forgotten about Helm waiting at home with their baby, forgotten everything but the miracle of holding Jenna close after she's had one of their kids, and he knows he fucked up.

He only hopes that that kiss doesn't make it into a headline in the Detroit Free Press tomorrow.

Jenna shakes her head. "I won't say anything," she says. "I don't want to cause trouble for you and... Darren."

It's almost as if she feels like she's not allowed to say his name—or maybe it makes her uncomfortable still, to know Chris is going to go home tonight and go to bed with another guy.

"Our babies are finally here," Chris says reverently. "I can't even believe it. This is even more incredible than last time."

"I hope you don't mind," Jenna says suddenly, "but I've asked my mom to stay with me for the first few weeks, and then I've decided to hire a live-in nanny. Someone to help me out. I need to pay more attention to Mackenzie and I am definitely going to need assistance with twins."

Chris wants to tell her that of course he'll help her, but unspoken between them is the knowledge that Chris has other responsibilities now, and to make that promise wouldn't be fair to either of them.

"I don't mind," Chris says. "You do what you have to do." And then, because even though he's not going to have a lot of time, these are his twins also, he adds: "I will come visit often. I want to see them as much as I can."

"I'm sure we can arrange something. I can drop them off with you sometimes if you like."

Chris is about to agree wholeheartedly when he remembers his lover, waiting for him at home, and realises that he can't make that promise. Helm might not like the idea of having even more babies around, plus where would he put them? Helm's house isn't big enough for three cribs.

But oh, how he wants to.

"I want to," he tells Jenna, who's beginning to drift. She's exhausted, and well she should be. "I don't know if Helm would be too happy with the idea."

"You can always come see them," she says. "Just call first." And then she yawns hugely. "You should let my mom and dad know they've been born—Mackenzie and Sydney are probably excited about the chance to see you; they're in the waiting room with my parents. And then you should go say goodbye to Kelsey and Max, then you should go home. Don't leave him alone too long to fret."

"I will," Chris says. He kisses her forehead, this time chastely. "Sleep, you need it."

But she doesn't respond; she's already gone into dreamland.

///

Chris knows that when he walks in, he's going to have to be very careful not to gush excitedly about the new additions to his family—he doesn't think Helm will really appreciate it very much.

He pushes open the front door as silently as he can, because it's late at night and he's hoping that everyone's asleep (mostly for Helm's sake).

The lights have been left on in the living room for Chris, but it's quiet in the house. He tiptoes into the bedroom, peeks in on Carey, then takes in the sight of Helm sprawled on his belly, hand next to his mouth, snoring softly.

And then—where is Drapes? Or anyone?

Did Helm watch Carey all by himself? Chris doesn't know whether to be thrilled or worried.

He checks on the baby again, but he seems to be fine; he's sleeping contentedly with his fingers in his mouth.

He shucks off his clothes, keeping only his boxers on, and then contorts himself to find space with Helm taking up most of the bed.

But he doesn't sleep for a long time: he's too busy thinking about his twins, Jenna, and Helm, sleeping peacefully beside him.

///

Around five in the morning, Chris makes a decision. It's not like he really has any choice, in retrospect; he has to come clean with Helm, completely. Maybe making out with Jenna was a huge mistake—and he has no doubt that it was—but it's done, and in his moment of confession, he left that particular sin out.

Helm looks beautiful as he is now, sleeping with his arm under his head and curled up so that his ass is fitting perfectly into the concave of Chris's stomach as he curls around him.

Chris knows he risks this, risks losing this again if he confesses, but what else can he do? Helm needs to know what he's getting—even if it means telling Helm that the one thing he's been so afraid of has happened.

Chris, therefore, is lying in bed, listening to both Helm's soft snores and the baby's even breathing, wondering how to shatter Helm's illusions while figuring out a way to prove that he really doesn't want Jenna back. He wants to see his babies, of course; he wants to see her because he'll always love her, even if it's in the abstract now. But...

He makes another decision: no more drinking. Even if his teammates go out for beers, if Nick asks him to go out like they so often used to do, he's just going to have to say no. He doesn't trust himself when he's been drinking, and Helm doesn't either—not that he should.

So many of their problems can be pinned squarely on the alcohol (he tries to forget about the fact that he wouldn't be with Helm if not for alcohol), and while that doesn't absolve Chris of the guilt, it does give him the chance to make things right.

But ultimately, he's a coward. He decides that while he must tell Helm the truth, he's going to wait till his divorce is finalised—that way he can hold up the papers and go, see? I may have kissed her in a moment of weakness but we're divorced now!

Chris knows he needs sleep, because there's a game today, but his guilty mind keeps circling and he just can't shut the damn thing off.

Carey starts to scream at five forty-seven, and Helm mumbles, winding up with his hand half in his mouth as he wakes up. Chris, who has basically been lying there staring at Helm's back for the past couple of hours, gets out of bed to see what the baby needs.

If only, if only it were so simple to see to the needs of their relationship, he thinks as he carries their son into the kitchen to give him a bottle.

///

"So," Helm says, rubbing at his bleary eyes, "how was it? Did everything go okay?"

Chris sets both of their coffees down on the table and wonders if Helm even has any idea what childbirth entails. Probably not. He slides Helm's coffee across the table in front of him and blows on his own to cool it.

Carey is in his Rock and Play Sleeper, gurgling happily like he hasn't a care in the world—and he doesn't, not really—and even though it's only just after 6 a.m., it's peaceful in their kitchen.

"Yeah," Chris says in answer to Helm's question. "She was great." He can't possibly miss the flash of jealousy on Helm's face at that—but he can't really think that Chris means more than just she delivered them without any complications?

Helm looks down into his coffee, which he hasn't even tasted yet. Okay, Chris revises his opinion: it's clearly not peaceful in their kitchen this morning, not with that tense expression on his boyfriend's face.

"I can never do that," Helm says in an undertone. Chris pauses mid-sip and gives him a look of surprise.

"Dare," he says, setting the coffee cup down on the coaster, "please tell me you don't think I am going to love you less because you're not a woman."

Helm glances up, all young, earnest face, eyes shining. "Maybe not, but I can't help but feel—" he cuts off with a snap, grabbing for his coffee.

"I have a new baby girl and boy," Chris tells him gently. Might as well get it all into the open. "But that's not going to change what we have, Darren."

"You keep saying things like that," Helm says, "but you have two kids already, and a wife. You want me to believe that you're not divided, but how can you say that? Tell me honestly, Ozzie, that you don't feel like you should be in both places at once."

Uh-oh. Chris swallows as much of his coffee as he can, wishing it had something stronger in it for courage, and tries to face down Helm's latest fear.

"I don't," he says truthfully. "I am not going to lie to you. Of course I miss my other kids. And I am their father, I can't just turn that off, and I don't want to. But where do I live, Dare? Who do I come home to?"

"But maybe you just come home with me because we work together," Helmer says in a small voice.

Chris sighs, exasperated. Helm really needs to get over this insecurity thing.

"I don't fuck you because we work together, Darren. I know you know that."

From the expression on his face, Chris has a feeling he won't like what Helm's going to say next.

"No, you fuck me because you like guys and you and I did something stupid."

Chris gets up and slams his hands down on the table. Carey screams, upset by the noise, but Chris for once is glad of it. He kind of feels like screaming himself.

"Goddammit, Helm," he says. "Maybe we did do something stupid. But how many times do I have to tell you that I fell in love with you since then, and that's why I'm doing everything I can to make this work?"

Helm's mouth is open. He looks stunned and confused, as if he didn't realise that he might be frustrating Chris with the constant insecurity.

Which is of course why Chris does something stupid, his fucking mouth running off with him again, as he gets right into Helm's face and snaps,

"So what if I made out with Jenna, Helm. So what if I kissed her in the delivery room. She'd just had my kids. But for fuck's sake, I always come back to you. I'm stuck on you. I made a choice, and I am going to stick with it! And you're not perfect either, Jesus. You are driving me crazy acting like the jealous lover all the time!"

Helm doesn't just look stricken, he jumps right out of his chair. Carey howls, obviously in need of someone to pick him up and soothe him, but judging from the anger filling up the kitchen like hot water boiling over, neither of them is in a position to be soothing.

"You what? You fucking kissed her and you—you didn't tell me? What the fuck were you thinking, Ozzie? When did that happen?"

"Some weeks ago." Chris sighs, exhausted and now some of the anger's gone, replaced by remorse. And a feeling of complete idiocy. "I was staying over to watch my girls, remember? She came home, and she was all swollen with my babies, and I just lost track of time. Like, lost track of what point of my life I was in—forgot everything but that she used to be my wife."

"She still is," Helm spits. He glares at Chris and then trots around the table, leans down and picks up Carey, rocking him in his arms. Carey shoves his fist into his mouth and quiets now that someone is holding him. Or maybe it's because it's his real daddy that's holding him, Chris isn't sure.

"That's not the point," Chris says. "Listen, I'm going to get ready and drive to the rink. Julie said she'd watch Carey today, so all you have to do is drop him off with his things when you leave. And, Helm? I am sorry that it happened. But if you can't see by now that I love you, I don't know what else I can do for you. When you figure out what is you want—"

But Helm surprises him. "I want you, you great idiot. I want us to get married so that this whole thing is official and I don't feel like the jealous lover, or the person you're with when you're supposed to be with someone else."

Chris softens. "When my divorce is finalised, as soon as it is, we'll just go up to Canada, wherever you want to do it, and get married. No one needs to know right away. But I promise you: Dare, I will be faithful to you from now on. Just do me a favour and don't break my heart. Because when you break my heart, I usually do the stupid, low self-esteem thing and try to find someone who loves me."

Helm smiles, fond and beautiful at once. "Chris," he murmurs, "I love you. I will love you even when you think it's all broken. I'm still here, right? I always come back."

"Yeah," Chris says softly. "You do. But you always leave with such conviction that I'm never sure—"

"It's just how I feel," Helm says. "I get angry and I need time to myself."

Chris groans; he can't stand people who leave an argument simmering and go off on their own. He should have realised long before this that that's how Helmer deals with things, but honestly, he was probably too cracked out on grief over losing him to notice.

"We're hopeless," Chris says, and sits back down, putting his chin in his hands, watching Helm slowly sway back and forth with Carey in his arms.

"Your twins were born on Carey's two month birthday," Helm says. But he doesn't sound jealous this time. Just matter-of-fact.

But Chris corrects him anyway. "Not quite. They were born at two fifty-three in the morning."

"I wish things were different," Helm says in a low, defeated voice. "That you and I fell in love first, and you didn't have other kids, or Nick, or—"

"But that's life," Chris tells him. "You can't change it. I can't change it. And I would change it, at least partially. I can't say I'd change my life with Jenna, because of my daughters, but I can say I regret Nick, and I wish I'd known better than to marry a girl. Even if that all sounds contradictory."

"You better get to the rink," Helm says, staring down into Carey's little face. That reminds Chris.

"Did you take care of him all by yourself last night?"

Helm looks up, a huge grin on his face. "I did! It wasn't that hard. I thought you'd be so proud of me if I could do it."

Chris grins back. "I am proud of you," he says. Then he sighs. His coffee cup is empty and he can't prolong this anymore; he needs to get to the Joe early and take his lumps for all of the chaos of the last few weeks.

"I'll see you at the Joe," Helm says. "Maybe if you leave now you'll have time to see the twins before the morning skate."

"Yeah," Chris says, half to himself. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

He's walking out of the room when Helm calls, "What are their names, Ozzie, anyway?"

"Kelsey and Max," he calls back as he begins pulling clothes out of his drawer.

Helm hums under his breath in the kitchen, and Chris smiles.

Somehow, things are looking better than ever.

///

Jenna sends out the birth announcements not long after she gets out of the hospital, and Chris knows this because his friends and teammates start calling. Some offer congratulations, but a lot of them can't help but tease—starting with Drapes, of course, and ending with Malts, who finds it hilarious that Chris now has three babies he's responsible for.

Chris gets Malts back by threatening to make him babysit all three of them while he's at work, and that makes him shut up.

Drapes, however, is not so easy.

"Keeping up with Maltby?" is the first thing he says when Chris answers the phone.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Chris says primly. He's playing dumb and they both know it. Drapes chuckles.

"I know you probably feel like a stud, but—"

"I don't!" Chris plops himself down at the kitchen table and begins to doodle on the grocery list pad there. "It was an accident. We, uh, weren't even—"

"Seriously, I don't know how you even did it. How did you manage to knock up your wife while sleeping with the Perfect Human?"

"He's not that perfect," Chris mumbles. "He's practically a stalker lately. He's always staring at me."

"You did lead him on for a long time," Drapes reminds him. Ugh, lecture mode.

"Anyway, I'm not sure how I did it either," Chris confesses. "Keeping up with Helm is hard enough!"

"Ah!" says Drapes. "Please. I don't need the details."

"I didn't get to spend a lot of time with Nick," Chris says. "And Jenna expected it of me."

"Well, congratulations, daddy. How does it feel to be the proud papa of three new babies at once?"

"I'm not technically—"

"C'mon, Oz, we all know better than that. I'd say you wear the pants in that relationship, but I know you too well. Regardless, you've been Carey's daddy from the moment Helmer's ex put him in your arms, and you know it."

"Helm is much better," Chris says defensively. "He was actually supposed to call you and have you come over and help him while I was with Jenna when the twins were being born."

"He never called. I guess I just thought Malts must have helped out."

"I need a whole battalion of babysitters," Chris says mournfully. "And I mean real ones, not just Malts while we're at the rink. I think Nick might actually, literally kill me if I bring Carey to the Joe any more times."

"You always did get distracted when there was a new baby around," Drapes concurs.

"So did you," Chris counters, remembering when Kamryn was born. Drapes did nothing but crow about her for months. "You couldn't stop showing us pictures, as I recall."

"You're going to show twice as many pictures, and you know it," Drapes says. "And it's bad enough that Mule can't stop bringing in videos of Eddie Bo sleeping. I mean, the kid's just sleeping! What kind of excitement is that?"

"Leave him alone," Chris says, covertly covering up his camera on the table—the one with videos of Carey sleeping on it. "It's his first kid. Probably the first poopy diaper was exciting to him."

"Yeah, I doubt it. I still think you're just competing with Malts."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Chris says. "It just... happened."

"Oh, fu—I mean, great, Kamryn just took off out of the washroom after her bath. I think Julie might need my help catching her. See ya at practise tomorrow, Ozzie."

"Yeah," Chris says. "Good luck with that."

He's barely set the phone down when it's ringing again. The display says 'Jenna', so he answers it.

"Hey, babe," he says. "How are they? How are you?"

"Kelsey is colicky, I think, but Max is good. He's sleeping right now in spite of the fact that Kelsey is crying. Sydney doesn't really seem to be taking it well, though; I thought she'd want to mother them, but she keeps hiding in her closet and waiting for me to come searching for her."

"She needs some extra attention." An idea occurs to Chris, and he suspects that Helm is going to kill him, but he says, "Maybe she should spend some time over here with me. Like we discussed before."

Jenna shoots that idea down right away. "How is that going to help? You have a baby over there, too, and I think she feels supplanted by all these new babies as it is."

"Well, something has to be done. I'm not sure what, but..."

"My mom's here, so I'm hoping she'll be able to cheer Syd up a little." Jenna sighs. "I'm a little sore, to answer your question."

"Is it worse than when you had the girls?" Chris asks, mostly to make conversation. He's not sure why, but he feels like he should spend some time with her. She sounds like she needs it.

"No, not really. The labour was pretty easy, all things considered."

"I'm glad to hear it," Chris says. "You know I'd hate to be the cause of any more undue pain."

Jenna sighs, and Chris wonders if she's remembering catching him with Nick. That probably wasn't the best way to put that.

"Anyway, I'm going to go. It feels like it's about time to feed them. I don't know if Max is up yet, but Kelsey is still squalling, so."

"Yeah, all right. Take care of yourself," he tells her, and he can practically hear her familiar smile over the phone.

"Come by and see them soon," she says. "And the girls miss you."

"Of course I will. Bye, Jenna."

"Good-bye, Chris."

Just as he's hanging up, Helm walks into the room holding Carey, whose eyes are wide and curious. It's hard to believe that he's already gotten so big.

"Was that Jenna?" he asks. He bounces Carey a little.

"Yeah, and Drapes. I seem to be very popular now."

"Aren't you always?" Helm asks, and Chris can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not.

"I'm going to have to stop by and see the twins soon," he informs Helm. "Maybe after our next practise."

"But our next practise is tomorrow," Helm protests. Chris raises an eyebrow. "I just... besides, we never got Carey his cupcake."

"It's been over a week since the twins were born," Chris says, "and I haven't even gone to see them yet."

"I know. But I feel like you're never around anymore."

"Darren, that makes no sense. I haven't gone anywhere."

"I can't help what I feel," Helm says. Chris sighs and rolls his eyes.

"You're getting jealous again."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I really need to be there for Jenna too," Chris says. "I know you don't like it, and you don't have to like it, but it's just facts, Dare."

"I can't stop thinking about you kissing her. How do I know that—"

"You don't. And I haven't given you very many reasons to trust me, but you either do, and we get married, or you don't. And if you don't, well, I don't know what kind of future we'd have."

"Don't even say that. We did not come this far just to talk break-ups again. Besides, if that happened, who knows what you'd do?"

"Probably sleep on Drapes's couch, like always," Chris says wryly. "Let's not talk about this anymore. It seems like all we ever talk about lately."

"When do you think the divorce will be finalised?" Helm asks, leaning over to put Carey in his baby seat.

"That's essentially the same subject," Chris points out.

Helm crosses the kitchen and wraps his arms around Chris. "I'm sorry," he whispers into his ear.

Chris turns his head, lips finding Helm's, and between kisses he murmurs, "I know. It's all right."

He doesn't know how long they stay like that, but Carey's quiet, Helm's pliant in his arms, and everything seems just right with the world.

///

"It's nice to see you," Jenna says, smiling and giving Chris a hug. "I thought it would be even more difficult now, but... well. Like I said: it's just nice."

"Has Kelsey's colic gotten any better?" He steps out of her arms, recalling his promise to Helm, but she's right: it really is nice to see her, even if he was at the hospital when the twins were born.

Jenna smiles a little sadly. "You smell like you just came from the locker room. I didn't think I'd miss that, but I do."

Chris refrains from mentioning that, sometimes, he'd gone home to her smelling like that after he'd just been with Nick. He thinks she probably knows that, though; she's a smart woman, and she probably figured that out a long time ago now.

"So can I see them?" he asks.

"Of course," Jenna says. She makes as if to show him the way, then seems to recover herself—he knows his way around their old house, naturally he does—and then walks down the hall. As they get closer, Chris realises that the spare bedroom is now a nursery. He catches sight of Syd peeking around the door of her bedroom, but she doesn't come out. He wants to turn and go to her first, but she seems shy, like she's afraid to run to him.

He doesn't see Mackenzie anywhere, but her bedroom door is shut, and he gets the impression that he's in the doghouse with all of his girls.

One of the babies is crying when they get to the nursery, and Jenna smiles ruefully. "That'd be Kelsey, who's crying. It's remarkable how the more she cries, the quieter and more content Max is."

Chris goes to Kelsey's crib first; it's decorated in yellow with lambs gamboling along the inner part. Amazingly, the moment he looks down on her little face, she quiets and waves a fist in the air.

"You can pick her up, if you want," Jenna says. Chris chuckles a little.

"She's my baby too," he reminds his wife. "I'm not just any old visitor."

Jenna laughs too. "You're right; I'm sorry. I've been swamped with well-wishers, so I'm just used to saying that, I guess."

Chris reaches into the crib, strokes the back of his finger along her face. He wants to pick her up, but he also wants to see his son.

"My third beautiful girl," he croons softly into the crib. He's probably a besotted fool for loving his daughters this much. He raises his head, catches Jenna's smirk, and flushes.

He turns away and peers down into the other crib, at his son. The little boy baby reminds him slightly of Carey, but he suspects that's only because he's never had a baby boy before, much less two at the same time.

Max, he picks up. He cuddles him close and kisses the soft, downy hair on the crown of his head. It's as if Kelsey knows somehow, and is jealous: she starts to cry.

Jenna slowly lifts her out of the crib and holds her close, and Chris finds himself staring into the eyes of the one woman he's always loved, as they each hold one of the babies they made together.

Max starts to cry, and Chris shifts a little. "I think he might be hungry," he says, but Jenna shakes her head.

"That's not his 'hungry' cry," she says. It hurts that Jenna already can tell the type of cries apart and this is only the second time he's seen them, but what he can he really do about it?

"I suspect he's wet," Jenna says. "He usually only fusses a little when he's hungry. Kelsey screams the house down, though, and poor Syd has been crawling around the house and sitting in corners with her hands over her ears."

Chris lays the baby on the changing table and expertly changes him, which likely surprises Jenna, who hasn't seen him change Carey.

Another kiss for Max, and he carefully places him back in the crib.

"I want to go talk to Syd," he says. "It's wrong for me to come here and give all the attention to the twins when she's already having middle-child syndrome."

"She is used to being the baby," Jenna agrees. She rocks Kelsey in her arms. That lasts peacefully for about five seconds and then she begins to wail. "Okay, that's her hungry cry. I... this is going to sound weird, Chris, and I'm sorry, but I'd prefer not to nurse in front of you."

"No, I understand," Chris says; what he doesn't say is, I never cared for breasts that much in the first place, that was part of the problem. Jenna gives him a wry look as if she knows what he's thinking. She might—they do still know each other awfully well.

"I'll go see Syd," he says, and Jenna pauses in what she's doing.

"Be gentle with her," she says, and Chris nods. He leaves her to feed the baby and walks down the hallway to Syd's room.

Syd is, as advertised, huddled in the corner of her bedroom with her hands over her ears.

"Hey kiddo," Chris says, getting down to one knee. "Come here, baby."

Syd unfolds and hurls herself into Chris's arms. "I miss you, daddy," she whimpers.

"I know, my love, I know," he whispers into her hair. When did she grow up so much? Compared to the tiny little babies in the other room, he can't believe how big she's gotten.

"I don't like them," Syd confesses in a small voice. "They're loud."

But Chris doesn't think that's it, though Syd most likely doesn't know how to vocalise what she really doesn't like about them.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says, holding her close. "But that's life. I told you before I'd never love you any less. You're my girl, Sydney. You and Mackenzie, you're always going to be my girls."

"What about the baby, daddy? Won't you love her more?"

"Now," Chris says, leaning her back on his lap and chucking her under the chin, "why would I do that? Love is a special thing, Sydney. It grows the more you love someone. So there's always more than enough to go around."

Syd pushes her lower lip out. "I don't believe you."

"I'm your dad, kiddo. It's up to you to believe me. If you don't do it, who else will?" He makes a funny face at her, and she can't suppress the giggle.

"No one, daddy," she says. "Please don't go."

He hugs her tight. "You know I can't stay, love. But you are always in my thoughts."

"I wanna stay with you, daddy," Syd whines. "I don't like it here anymore."

"That's not going to work, my angel," Chris whispers to her. "I don't think Helm understands little girls just yet."

"Can I come play?" she asks. "Let me, daddy, please!"

He's the one who taught her to say please—she learned it because she was always using it on him to get what she wanted, and for fuck's sake, he can't bring himself to turn her down.

"I'll talk to Darren, okay?" he tells her, and Syd nods vigourously, her blond hair fluttering, it's so fine and silky.

"But you know, there's a little baby living with Darren too, honey."

"I don't care," Syd says stubbornly. "I wanna be with my daddy!"

"Okay, okay. I'll ask him, okay? I can't make any promises right now."

Syd buries her face in his chest. She sniffles. "No one loves me anymore!" she cries. Chris's heart breaks all over again.

"Now, you know that's not true," he murmurs, petting her hair. "I will always, always love you."

Syd forces herself out of his arms and stares at him mutinously.

"Go away, daddy," she says. Chris is surprised. The clinging barnacle has suddenly turned into a stinging nettle.

"Are you sure?"

"I wanna be by myself," she says, sounding grown-up all at once.

Chris gets to his feet. "All right," he concedes. "Come here and say good-bye," he says, and she obediently allows him to hug and kiss her good-bye.

He steps out of her room feeling like somehow he made it worse, even though she'd seemed like she wanted him there so badly.

He pauses by the nursery, but Jenna must still be nursing, so he knocks and tells her he's leaving, then knocks on Mackenzie's door. But Mackenzie doesn't let him in, so he sighs, feeling like a broken-down lawnmower that's not good for anything but scrap metal, and goes home to Helm.

The trouble is, Helm's probably not going to be very loving at the moment either, considering he just spent all this time at Jenna's house.

///

"So," Chris says, tossing his bag onto the much-abused couch, "my daughter wants to come stay with us."

Chris figures he might as well just jump right in, because he doesn't want to give Helm the chance to be angry with him.

Helm turns from what he's doing—apparently playing NHL 11—and his mouth has dropped open, eyes wide. It's that same confused look again, though Chris doesn't know whether he's actually confused or just surprised.

"I..." he says, trailing off. Chris plops down onto the floor next to Helm, and remarks,

"Maybe if you wore your glasses, Dare, you could see the screen from the couch."

"I'm not wearing them," Helm says defensively. "...but it was too much work to put in my contacts this morning."

"Anyhow, Syd just wants to come for a visit. She's feeling a little bit overlooked at home."

"Her home," Helmer corrects. Chris tilts his head, then grabs the second controller and joins the game. He's playing Helm, ironically, and trying to score on Ty Conklin of the Blues. He crows with delight when he succeeds.

"I can score better than you can," he says smugly. Helm glares.

"Not in real life," he grumbles.

"I bet you I can," Chris says. "I played forward sometimes when I was growing up."

"You're on," Helm says, setting down the controller and shifting so he's facing Chris. "What are the terms?"

Chris is sure he has an evil glint in his eye. "If I win, Syd gets to stay with us for a few days."

"And if I win?" Helm asks. Chris shrugs.

"I'll change Carey's diapers for the same amount of time that Syd would have stayed with us."

"You must be pretty confident," Helm says, then adds, "you're going down, Ozzie."

"Awesome. So, you should see the twins..."



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