Open Case File [COMPLETED]

Finding Order

"I think," Carter said quietly. "That I want that for our kid. Four sounds like a good number." She looked up at Donovan. "There's always a partner for a kid. Always someone to hang out with. A group to encourage each other or piss each other off." She smiled. "I had always wanted siblings. But since how I came about it wasn't meant to happen. But we can give that to our kid."

Donovan brushed his thumb along her cheek.

"Four kids, uh?" He smiled. "I like that."

As Donovan leaned down to kiss Carter, James threw down the instruction manual, shouting.

"Done! That's right Clint, you can suck it! We win! Woo!" He high-fived Brock, both brothers looking extremely smug.

"But we were so close!" Danny cried out.

"Sucks kid, you chose the losing team," James said.

Scowling, Danny charged James but was scooped up and thrown over James's shoulder. With Danny trying to squirm out of his hold, James paraded around the apartment singing, we are the champions. Donovan laughed and kissed the side of Carter's head.

"Yeah, let's have four kids."

******

Something stirred Donovan from his sleep and he frowned, eyes still closed. He waited, trying to figure out what had woken him. With her back pressed against Donovan's chest, Carter slept on, worn out from the day. Shaking off the feeling, Donovan curled Carter closer to him, his arm resting on her stomach.

As he was drifting off, he felt it. It was the feel of a baby kicking his arm. Donovan froze. Waiting. It came again. Beneath his forearm, he felt the pressure of a tiny foot. Donovan placed his hand over the spot, his heart beating against his chest.

But it didn't come again.

Donovan laid there, unmoving, still able to feel the echo of the baby's foot.

His heart wouldn't stop pounding and suddenly the room felt as if there was no air left in it. When taking deep breathes did nothing to stop the rising panic, Donovan untangled himself from Carter and slipped out of bed. He grabbed a hoodie and tugged it over his head as he moved to the door. He needed air.

In the living room, his brothers and Danny were passed out in sleeping bags, their snores bouncing off each other. Donovan craved a path through the sleeping figures and snuck out the front door.

He quickened his steps as he hit the hallway and by the time he reached the stairwell he was pounding up them. He raced through the door to the roof and bent over his knees, sucking in lungfuls of air.

The night was frigid and he welcomed the cold, willing it to cool his sweating body. He was shaking and couldn't control it. It was as if his body were rebelling against him. Moving to the rooftop ledge, he rested his elbows on it and pressed his palms into his eyes. His mind was spiraling and he couldn't calm it down.

At the center of the storm was the feel of the tiny foot. The foot of a baby. Of his baby. Of his kid. The one he knew but didn't know. His baby. He was going to be a father.

Donovan rested his head on his crossed arms, knowing he was full-on panicking.

The door to the rooftop opened and Donovan tensed. He couldn't let Carter see him like this. She couldn't know the fear that was turning him into something weak and pathetic. Not when she was strong and calm. Donovan straightened and gripped the rough ledge, willing himself to appear in control.

But the hand that landed on his shoulder was not Carter's and Donovan crumpled.

"I can't do this," he said. "It's real. It's alive. It's a baby. A baby that will grow up and talk and walk and have its own thoughts and I can't do this."