6
"You're going to tire yourself out if you're going to try and look after all four of us, you know," she said, but she let him take over that little task. It didn't hurt to bolster his pride every now and then.
"It's okay. I'm taking a break from writing for a while, until these two are sleeping through the night," he told her. It was a good thing he'd finished Calliope's life story, though it still needed some editing.
"We're a team, though, right?" she asked, just a little uncertain for a moment. She hated the idea that she was making more work for him, in whatever capacity.
"No, we're a family," he corrected, thinking that better defined their relationship, even if she was only talking about the two of them. He settled himself on the bed beside her, a soft smile on his face. "I'm always gonna be here for you, Elena. You don't ever have to worry about that."
"That's not something that I ever worry about," she admitted, leaning affectionately against him as he sat beside her. "I worry about putting too much on your shoulders, about being just the pretty face and nothing else. Sometimes I feel like I don't contribute much to our lives together, and I hate it."
"What?" he said, clearly surprised by this confession. "What do you mean? You contribute plenty. If anyone should worry about not contributing enough, it's me," he said, careful not to dislodge her from his shoulder, despite his surprise.
"No, it's just ... you look after me a lot," she said, trying to clarify herself for him. "I worry that I don't look after you enough. It's a me thing, baby."
"You look after me plenty," Michael insisted, a serious look on his face. He would have never recovered from his addiction to alcohol if it hadn't been for her. In fact, he probably wouldn't have even survived.
"I just, I don't want you to burn yourself out trying to do everything, you know?" she said, hoping she was clearer this time. "We're in this together, always will be."
"I won't. Promise," he told her, sealing that promise with a kiss. He couldn't argue with that really. In sickness and health, until deal do us part, though he hoped it never came to that.
His kiss was answered with another, together with a soft brush of her nose tip to his. "We should put them down and see if they can handle it, really," she mused. "I'm getting hungry here."
He smirked as she reminded him that he'd promised food. "You're always hungry," he told her, kissing the tip of her nose before pulling away so that he could set their son into the bassinet.
She laughed softly, not bothering to argue that point. For someone who could eat like a horse, she was very slender still - it was either good genetics, or a very hectic lifestyle, though likely a combination of the two. Once Leo was in the bassinet, she leaned forward to lay Kara down with him, charmed by the way the pair flailed until they had a good grip on one another. "Okay, that's adorable."
Michael smiled at the way the twins clung to each other, as if they needed each other. "It is, isn't it?" he said, reaching to take Elena's hand. "They've been together from the beginning," he said, just a little bit in awe.
Her fingers slid between his, palm to palm as she smiled. "We've all been together right from their start," she said softly. "I'd put money on them knowing Mica's voice the second they meet her properly."
"You think so?" he said, not quite as certain as she was, but then, he wasn't the one who had carried the children inside them for nine months before they'd been born.
"They've been reacting to her," she assured him. "And to you, too. They know your voices, I'm sure of it."
"Then they know yours, too," he pointed out. In fact, they probably knew her best of all. He turned quiet a moment as the two of them watched the twins, snuggled close and looking content. "Sometimes it's like a dream, Elena," he confessed. He worried sometimes that something would happen and he'd wake up and find it had all been a dream.
"It's a good dream." She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder. "There's no one I would rather be in this dream with. I've got you, well and truly, Michael Donnelly. I'm never letting go."
"Never letting you let go," Michael said, chuckling at his own words. "You know what I mean," he added, turning his head to kiss her again. "As much as I love kissing you, they're not gonna sleep forever, so what do you want to eat?"
She giggled softly, her head tipped up to meet his gaze. "I guess we're stuck with hospital food until we escape tomorrow," she said, a little mournfully. After all, her cooking was far superior. "I should probably just have something light - maybe if they have something like soup and sandwiches?"
"I could ask Tony to pick something up, unless you don't want to wait," he suggested, as his stomach grumbled guiltily. He knew hospital food wasn't the best option, but it was handy.
"Food now," was her answer even as she chuckled, rubbing her hand affectionately against his stomach. "I'll cook something to make up for it tomorrow."
"It's okay. I'll live," he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek before moving to his feet. "Soup and sandwich, it is. Don't go anywhere!" he teased, with a gentle tweak of her nose. Where was she going to go anyway?
"I'll wait with bated breath," she teased, though it was fairly obvious she was going to have a quick wash and change while she was waiting. "Don't trip."
"I'll do my best!" he said, as he headed for the door. He was a man on a mission and wasn't coming back until he had food in hand.
Woe betide him if he didn't manage to find food; never mind disappointing himself and Elena, Tony would have views on that if he came by and they hadn't eaten. Ah, the joys of marrying into the De Luca family. All the fun of a funfair, sticky bits included.