Only Time Will Tell

Chapter 5-Bed time

_Jo's POV_
"Hey guys.. How was..?" Abe started to say."Turn on some music," I mumbled; dragging Henry upstairs. "Sheesh. Yes mam," he responded; his eyes wide. "My apologies Abraham," Henry spoke in between sloppily kissing my neck. I pulled my shirt off over my head, and he did the same; kicking off his loafers. By the time we got to the bedroom, there was a trail of clothes behind us. I locked the door, and tackled him onto the bed; our lips colliding hungrily.
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_Henry's POV_
"Oh!" I grunted; climbing off of Jo. "What's wrong?" she asked; sitting up. "I think I just strained a ligament in my back," I muttered; laying down in an awkward position. "Henry.. Is that English for 'you just threw out your back'?" she teased. "Yes.."I grumbled. "I'm terribly sorry, but could you get me some ice?" I cringed. She started laughing hysterically, and I felt a blush creeping up on me. "It happens to the best of us," I defended. "Sorry. Sorry. That just totally killed the mood," she chuckled; getting to her feet. She got back a few minutes later with Atticus toddling behind her; tugging on her robe. "Att. Now's not a good time. Daddy is sick," she said; bending down beside him. "Dadda sick?" he repeated. "Mhm," she replied. "I help Dadda?" he whispered; peering into her eyes. "Kiss make betta?" he questioned; making his way over to my side of the bed. "I wish," I chuckled. He bowed his head; disappointed. "I'm sure you can make me better though," I smiled; patting his head of dense brunet curls affectionately. Jo lifted him up onto the bed, and He crawled over my legs. "Where sick?" he said; on a mission. "His back," Jo grinned. "Back?" he asked; confused. "Yeah. Right here, Att," she responded; lightly prodding my back. He nodded his head and kissed my back; hugging me tight. "Betta Dadda?" he whispered. "Much better, thank you Atticus," I replied. "Mum. I sit?" he begged; not letting go. "Alright Att. You can stay," she answered; taking a seat next to me. "Over here Atticus," I smiled warmly; patting a space on the bed where he could lay. He snuggled close to me, and I draped an arm over him; my eyes misty. "Henry? Is the pain that bad?" Jo asked; rather concerned. "No. I just.. Love him.. I see so much of Abe.. When he was young.. in him.." I explained. As if on cue, Abraham entered the room; chasing after Brayleigh. "Mum!" she screamed. "Oh goodness," I smiled. Jo picked her up, and placed her on the bed; letting her crawl up on her. "Can I crawl in bed with you guys too?" Abe joked. "If you weren't 68 years Atticus's senior, perhaps," I chuckled. "So uh.. What happened here?" he questioned; taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "He threw out his back during sex," Jo blurted out; laughing. "Been there. Done that," Abe grinned. "Was bound to happen to you some time Pops.. You are 237 years old," he reminded me; making his exit. "I prefer 237 years young.. But I do feel rather old at the moment," I called; jolting forward a bit when Jo placed the icepack on my back. "Gahh," I scowled. "Suck it up you big baby," she teased. I relaxed, and Brayleigh escaped her grasp; crawling towards me. "Dadda?" she asked. "Yes, dear?" I responded. "Lop muh nurr," she babbled; making an attempt at crawling over my legs as well. -At approximately 8 months old, she knows Mum, Dadda, Abe, and Att. This was about as far as her vocabulary extends. She has just started walking, with a bit of help from us. She's not as social as Atticus, but she's just as compassionate. -She knows something is wrong with her father, so she has rushed over to comfort me. "Brayleigh," Atticus whined; batting her away. "Atticus, be nice," I muttered. "Go 'way Bray," he frowned; nuzzling closer to my torso. "Buh.. Dadda," she whimpered; starting to cry. "Atticus Sean Morgan," Jo scolded. His eyes widened. He knows he's in trouble. "Let your sister sit there," she continued; forcing him to scoot over. "Say you're sorry," she demanded. He sat silently; frowning. "Say you're sorry Atticus," I repeated; taking a gentler approach. I've always been the authoritarian figure who's soft around the edges.. That's why they tend to gravitate towards me. In Jo's own words, she "calls them out on their shit." -Rather vulgar phrasing. But accurate. "Sowwy Bray," he whispered; planting a kiss on her cheek. "Better," I smiled. "How about your back?" Jo spoke. "Still not quite up to par, I'm afraid," I replied. "Wait a second.. Why aren't you and Brayleigh in bed? It's past your bed time," I said; peering down at Atticus. "Sleep bad," he grunted. "How so?" I continued. "Adam," he whispered.