FAMILY

                                                  (for previous chapters, please scroll down)

S3 Round Robin (2025)

Chapter 9

Milly Rose

 

The final glittering hours of Winterfest were fading. Clamoring children who had taken the liberty of consuming too much sugar and not enough real food ran hither and yon with their little trinkets and gifts from Mouse. (Much to the frustration of Mary, but she said nothing. It was Winterfest, after all).

"I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you are remaining here Below with us," Father said to Devin, who was meticulously studying the chess board at the quiet corner table. "My ragged old nerves can rest easy now. You are sure, my boy, that you will be happy here?"

Devon raised his eyes to study Jacob carefully. "There will be moments, I am sure," he responded carefully, “when the old way will call to me. And in those times, Father, just remind me of this right here, these memories, when those moments come, all right?"

"And when I am no longer here to remind you?"

A muscle twitched in the man’s jaw at the idea, and Devon moved his pawn one space and sat back in his chair. "When you have broken our hearts and left us, where there is family left, there will always be others," he replied, gesturing to where Susan sat with Alex, putting together a paper doll display Peter had brought from Above.

Father looked from Susan to Devin, an eyebrow raised. A knowing shine came to his face, and he chuckled lightly. "Susan?"

Devin simply nodded.

"Well, can't say I saw that one coming, my boy, but I have often been surprised by the actions of my sons, especially in the realm of romance. Do you think she also might be interested?"

"Who is interested in what?" Diana appeared next to them, having finally slipped out of a group of girls who had asked her to put their shiny hair accessories that Mouse gave to them in their assorted braids and curls. She had been there for nearly a half hour and looked exhausted, although cheerful.

"I was just discussing some important matters with Devon," Father replied evenly, not missing a beat. "You look rather frazzled, my dear. Is everything all right?"

"Ah, Mouse and his tinsel hair things. A clever idea, to be sure, but I do not envy Mary trying to

get it back out of their hair tonight at bedtime." Diana smiled and turned her head, showing them a curly tinsel bow nestled into her own hair. “I regret my own decisions, but it cannot be undone now.”

Father nodded dryly, trying not to laugh, but also appear sympathetic. "I see. If William has any lard in the pantry, you might try a little of that if needed."

Devon laughed and stood. "If you'll excuse me, Father, I will see if Susan needs any help.”

"Very well. I will see you later, my boy."

"So, he's staying?" Diana asked, settling into the vacated chair and surveying the chess board carefully. "Are you okay with that?"

"He has changed," Father replied. "A lot. I think his wandering feet have brought him back to where he should have been all along, and didn't know it."

"Where would that be?" Diana asked, sitting back in the chair. "It's your move by the way."

Father took the knight with his rook, and steepled his fingers, resting his elbows on the table.

"Home, Diana. He's home."

"This place is home for so many," she replied, her glance drifting over to where Devin knelt with

Alex, taping small wooden supports to the piece of cardboard that would be the display for her

paper dolls. A knowing smile lit up her face. "Ah. I see."

"Concerned at all?" Father asked, carefully watching her face for any sign of her feelings.

She smiled softly. "Always, Father, just as you are. But we have to let life play out, don't we?

Besides, she would be good for him."

"Perhaps so. But how are you doing, my dear? I know the last few weeks have been hard for

you."

"Trying not to think about it." She picked up her knight and took out a pawn. "It will be a while

yet before we can test, but every single day is going to feel like a year. I don't know how we will wait that long, but we have no choice."

"Does it matter?"

"What?"

Father took out her knight with his bishop. "If this child has an anomaly of any kind, does it

matter?"

"You are asking me that, after raising Vincent?" Diana bit her lip. "Sorry, that came out wrong. I

mean, you know that people are not - as forgiving and accepting. Above - it's a jungle out

there."

"I know," Jacob Wells replied. "Above, yes, That will be hard. But in here-" he pointed to his

chest. "In here, Diana, does it matter."

"No," she replied quickly, then looked away, her face hidden by her hair.

For a moment, she was silent. Father leaned forward, slipping a hand atop hers. "Diana?"

Slowly, she turned to look at him, tears tracking silently down her cheeks. His eyebrows rose in

surprise, and she spoke before he could say anything. "I don't want to sound like a bad person."

"You aren't a bad person."

"Well, thanks. It's just that, I - I'm afraid. What if this child has severe developmental troubles?

What if I bring a child into this world, just to be laughed at by others and ridiculed. Father, that

idea pains me so much, sometimes I can barely breathe."

"Have you spoken to Vincent about how you feel?"

"No, We - we don't - share feelings, so I - I don't say much."

"Ah," he nodded wisely. "The Bond. Diana, dear, just because he had that with- her- and not

with you does not mean you are any less loved. Love is a funny thing. Catherine saved him. At a

time when he lost himself, she stepped in and brought him back to the light. And at a time when

she had been stripped of every dignity that belonged to her and left to die in the dark and the

cold, he brought her back to life. Those things, they leave an indelible mark here." He gestured

to his heart again. "And as you two navigate this new life, while living with the gift of the old

one, Jacob, your day will come. Will there be a Bond, as they had, who knows. But Diana,

Vincent loves you, as well as he can love, and if you do not share those feelings with him, he

cannot be there for you. Do not choose to walk alone, my dear. It is a very cold, bitter walk."

XXX

"Thank you for walking me home," Diana threw her coat onto the couch, and sank into it's

depths.

Vincent sat down beside her, his face a mask of concern. "You hardly said a word on the way over. You seem bothered – distracted - are you alright?"

The dismissal of "Oh, I'm just tired," was right there on her lips, but a glance at his deep, caring

eyes made her swallow the words. She leaned toward him and he wrapped his arms around her,

settling her securely against his broad chest.

 "Diana," he said softly, so many things being said with only a word.

"I'm afraid," she finally whispered, so softly that she feared he had not heard.

But the way his heart beneath her ear fluttered at the word, and his arms tightened subconsciously around her told her that he had heard, and felt her emotions.

"About the future?"

"Yes."

"Dearest Diana," he said softly, "You always have a home with us. You know this. And no matter

what happens, this child will be so loved and cherished. You really do underestimate how

protective that everyone gets over children. Even William will resort to closing the kitchen door

so that the clattering won't travel down the tunnels to the nursery and wake a sleeping baby."

"But - what if - " her voice trailed off and he waited. When she said nothing else, he crooked a

finger under her chin and lifted her face to his.

"What if?"

"What if I am not a good mom?"

His eyebrow raised quizzically, but there was no judgement in his eyes. "Diana, you are a good mom. It's a little late to be a bad one. You couldn't be, not if you tried for a million years."

"But what if-"

He placed a finger to her lips, shushing her. "No. No, Diana. We don't do what-if’s. This child, this creation from our shared love for each other, whether it looks like me or you, or has Fragile X or not, or is a boy or a girl, or lives here or Below, no matter what, you are enough. You are enough for that child, and you are enough for me."

As the winter moon rose over the bleak nighttime, bathing the shadows in mellow light, Vincent and Diana talked long into the night as he detangled the filaments of tinsel from her hair. There were tears, embraces, slow and calming kisses in the light of the single lamp, caresses that soothed the pains of tomorrow.

And as he eventually slipped into the shadows somewhere around four AM, as the glow of early dawn kissed the horizon, he left behind the promise that he would be there for this child. He would be there for Devin. He would be there for Alex.

Blood does not always make one family. Love, chosen to be given, does. And she knew, as she turned out the light and whispered goodnight to the growing child within her, that no matter what the weeks ahead held for their Tunnel family, this child would have a future as bright as all of the stars above New York combined.

Her family would make it so.