Chapter Text
The house felt different the moment the door shut behind Adalind. Not empty - never that, but charged in a new way, like a crime scene after everyone’s cleared out and all that’s left are the people who actually have to deal with the aftermath. The confidence lasted exactly twelve minutes.
That was how long it took for Adalind’s cab to pull away, for the front door to click shut behind her, and for the house to go unnaturally quiet.
Nick stood in the living room with Emmerson balanced against his shoulder, gently bouncing in what he was pretty sure was the right rhythm. Sean leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, surveying the scene like he was assessing a hostile negotiation environment. Meisner was already washing a bottle with methodical focus, as if order could be summoned through sheer discipline.
No one spoke for several moments.
Sean broke the silence. “This,” he said mildly, “is where we find out if we’re competent adults.”
Meisner snorted from the table, where he had moved to while attempting to assemble a bottle. “I’ve survived coups and black ops. I’m not losing to a an eight-year-old, a five-year old and a six-month-old.”
Emmerson squirmed. Let out a sharp, indignant cry. Less hunger than opinion. Nick shifted instinctively, rocking her.
Nick glanced at Sean. “She’s… fine, right?”
Sean arched a brow. “Define fine.”
“That sound,” Nick said. “Is that a ‘needs a nap’ sound or a ‘we’ve already failed’ sound?”
Emmerson escalated, face scrunching in a way Nick recognized with immediate dread.
Sean crossed the room and brushed his fingers over Emmerson’s dark hair, softening immediately. “She has excellent timing. Just like her mother.”
Meisner spoke calmly without looking up. “That is a pre-cry.”
Nick stiffened. “There are stages?”
“Oh yes,” Meisner said. “You have approximately thirty seconds.”
Sean straightened. “Why do you know that?”
Meisner shrugged. “I observe patterns.”
Emmerson began crying in earnest.
Nick froze. “Okay. Okay. This is fine. We’re fine.”
Kelly poked his head out of his room. “She’s mad, Daddy.”
Nick forced a smile. “She’s not mad, buddy. She’s just…communicating.”
Diana appeared behind Kelly, eyes sharp and assessing. “She is distressed. Your hold is suboptimal.”
Nick adjusted Emmerson immediately. “This is how Adalind does it.”
Diana tilted her head. “Mom’s center of gravity is different.”
Sean pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s been five minutes.”
Emmerson wailed louder.
Meisner dried his hands and stepped in. “Hand her to me.”
Nick transferred Emmerson carefully, like he was defusing a bomb.
For three blessed seconds, Emmerson quieted.
Sean exhaled. “See? We have this.”
Emmerson screamed.
Meisner blinked. “Interesting.”
Kelly frowned. “She doesn’t like confidence.”
Diana nodded. “She prefers competence.”
Nick stared at the ceiling. “I miss Adalind.”
Sean checked his phone. “Her plane hasn’t even taken off yet.”
From the kitchen, a timer began beeping.
All three men turned toward it slowly.
Sean frowned. “What’s that?”
Meisner answered evenly. “The bottle warmer.”
Nick’s eyes widened. “You were warming a bottle?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
Meisner glanced at the timer. “…Longer than intended.” He passed the baby back to Nick.
Smoke curled faintly from the kitchen.
Kelly’s eyes lit up. “Is the house on fire?”
“No,” Sean said immediately, moving toward the kitchen. “Not yet.”
Diana observed calmly, “This outcome aligns with my projections.”
Nick bounced Emmerson desperately, whispering, “Please don’t tell your mother.”
Sean reappeared holding the bottle like evidence from a crime scene. “We are not using this.”
Nick nodded frantically. “Great. Perfect. Backup plan?”
Meisner reached for the fridge. “There is a second bottle.”
Sean paused. “Adalind said there were lists.”
Nick swallowed. “I didn’t read all of them.”
The front door suddenly knocked—sharp, loud.
All three men froze.
Nick whispered, hopeful, “What if that’s Adalind?”
Sean glanced at the clock. “That would involve time travel.”
Meisner headed for the door. “I will handle this.”
He opened it to reveal Monroe, holding a paper bag and smiling brightly.
“Hey! With Rosalee and Adalind gone I thought I’d bring lunch and…”
He stopped.
Took in the scene: Nick with a screaming baby. Sean gripping a scorched bottle. Kelly and Diana watching like this was an educational program.
Monroe’s smile widened slowly. “Oh. This is that kind of weekend.”
Emmerson wailed.
Nick looked at Monroe, eyes wild. “How fast can you eat?”
Monroe stepped inside cheerfully. “Oh, I’m not staying. Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow when things are less…this…”
Sean muttered, “Coward.”
And somewhere, very far away, Adalind had enjoyed exactly twelve uninterrupted minutes of peace.