Maybe Stand By Me

Six: 2005

"Amor?"

Helena smiled gingerly over her shoulder as her husband's hand landed on her hip gently, giving it a quick squeeze. She accepted his kiss and leaned back, nuzzling their cheeks together. The familiar warmth rushed through her body as she moved in close, basking in the feeling. She would never get tired of the simple pleasures, her husband's hand on her waist and her hand covering his, tapping gently.

"Is she asleep?" She asked quietly in Italian, almost whispering even though she was certain the baby wouldn't stir from where they were.

"Out like a light. Curled around that blanket." He tucked his chin into the crook of her neck, "What are we looking at?"

After over eleven years together, she knew her husband like the back of her hand, knew every movement he was going to make before he would, and would move accordingly.

"The sky." She murmured, squeaking as he squeezed her hip a bit tighter, "I'm trying to stargaze."

"And how's that going?"

She sighed, "It makes me miss home. The stars seem so much brighter there."

His breath was cold against the back of her neck and she giggled as he nosed her ear gently.

"Just because you can't see them...doesn't mean they're not there. They're always looking down on us." His voice was soft, the Italian falling from his lips in a way that always managed to make her feel at home.

She tore her gaze from the sky, turning herself in her husband's arms and beaming at him, "When did you become such a romantic?"

"Probably the day I first lay eyes on you."

She flushed, shaking her head and giggling at the seemingly effortless charm rolling off her husband in waves.

"I love you." She said in English, simply because she could.

The language was a struggle for her, even before they had packed up everything and moved to the states. She remembered countless nights struggling to piece together the stupidest sentences she could think of, all in order to prepare herself for anything that would be thrown at her. But they were both determined to learn, to teach her daughter and give her every opportunity possible, yet never let her forget her roots. Cassiopiea had grown into a lively toddler, constantly full of light and love, happy to cling to the legs of any adult she saw fit. When Helena looked at her, she saw only warmth and life.

"I want another child."

"Amor..." Her husband's form stiffened against her own, eyes widening, "But...after..."

"We can adopt. Or get a surrogate. Or foster." She was babbling, arms flailing until he caught them in his hands, squeezing tightly to ground her, "I just...we aren't complete. Think of her...all the love she has to give. She isn't meant to be an only child."

"Alright."

She raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Would you really have asked if you didn't already know my answer."

She smirked, freeing one of her chilly hands and using her finger to tap his nose gently, "You get me."

"Always."

—

"Mama..." Cassiopeia's face wrinkled up in confusion, "When is...uh...mio fratella...coming?"

"Fratello." She corrected gently, smoothing down her daughter's hair and pinching her cheeks.

She hated watching her daughter struggle trying to decipher between the two languages, a journey she knew all too well. But Cassiopeia took everything she did in stride with a wide beam that never failed to warm her heart no matter how many times she saw it.

"Soon," She ruffled her daughter's hair, "What does il calendario say?"

Cassiopeia's face scrunched up for a moment and Helena could almost see the tiny gears turning inside of her brain, before her face lit up and she jumped up from the kitchen table. She scurried to the fridge, small finger pointing eagerly at the small calendar, placed directly at eye level for her.

"If today is three...then he's at six...three days!"

"Eccellente!" Helena reached down and scooped her daughter up, twirling her until she was squealing to be put down.

Unbeknownst to Cassiopeia, the process to adopt a child had been long and harrowing, unlike anything she had ever been through before. Their hopes had been gotten up countless times, until finally they had gotten the call they had been searching for. Dixon was his name, five years old and had the biggest smile Helena had ever seen, radiating through the photograph provided by the agency. Very little was known about his past, having been in the orphanage since he was born.

He was it, she knew it deep in her soul. Their parents were ecstatic at the news of a new bambino and were already trying to book flights to come and visit, insisting they would all fit in the small two bedroomed house they called their home.

"I'm going to show him all my..." Cassiopeia's face furrowed.

"Giocattoli." Helena cooed, "He will love that. And all your new decorations in your room."

"Yeah!" Cassiopeia cheered, before pausing, her face dropping, "What if he doesn't like space? Or the stars?"

"He's one of us, he will love them. I know it."

—

There was a brief moment where Helena feared it would all go wrong, where her heart stopped in her chest and her mind ran wild with instances of how it would all fail. Dixon's tiny hand was clutched in hers as her husband unlocked the front door to their home, sticking close to her side and peering around the side of her legs cautiously. He had been quiet but still warm and smiling since they had picked him up that morning.

They decided to take him to a diner, to try and get him to open up before bringing him to meet Cassiopeia and it had worked somewhat. He spoke quietly, but with great thought, chewing carefully and swallowing before replying, dabbing his mouth with a napkin.

"He's a very...well-mannered boy." Her husband murmured in her ear, and she simply nodded.

It was now, returning home to Cassiopeia, that filled her with dread. She was unsure of what she could do if they didn't get along, if Cassiopeia suddenly realised that she was jealous and that she wanted all the attention that two loving parents could give. Stepping into the house she quickly noticed Cassiopeia sitting on the couch, swinging her legs and talking the ear off the babysitter.

"Mama! Papa!" She squealed, leaping from the couch and skidding to a halt in front of the pair, eyes immediately zoning in on the boy trailing behind them.

She paused, her head tilting to the side as she watched him carefully, Helena observing the interaction with bated breath.

"Hi." Cassiopeia said gently, a smile slowly growing across her face, "I'm Cassiopeia but that's hard to say...so you can call me Cassie."

"Cassie." Dixon said softly, nodding, "I'm...Dixon."

"That's so cool!" Cassiopeia said, her voice raising, "You have an X in your name!"

"Yeah! I do!"

"Do you wanna see our room? There's stars...do you like stars?"

"Sure!"

"Awesome!" Cassiopeia reached around her mother, grabbing Dixon's free hand and dragging him down the hallway, chattering about rocket ships all the way down.

Helena exhaled deeply, slumping against her husband who immediately grabbed her arms, steadying her.

"See!" He said, "Kids are easy."

"He's going to be a really good fit."

"He already is. He's ours."

"Ours." She smiled, "Our perfect little family."