That's When We Uncover [Jensen Ackles + Misha Collins | Cockles | mxm]

Chapter Twenty-Four

Marry him.

I don't know what reaction my mother was expecting from me, but it probably isn't the stale laugh I bark out.

She stares at me quizzically as I draw a hand over my twitching lips.

"What's so funny?"

I shake my head, the sharp dart of pain embedded in my heart twisting mercilessly.

"You really don't get it, do you?" My throat closes, pinches off the words. "This isn't a damn Disney movie, mom. There ain't no happy ending for Misha and I." A slow, throbbing ache crawls up along my jawline. "We came close as we could to having that and you ruined it."

Chutes of buttery early morning sunlight stream in through the windows, blazing through a swollen, murky mass of clouds. The kitchen, bathed in a warm, honeyed glow, feels suddenly suffocating, like a cold, forboding tomb.

"Did you ever at least consider it," mom presses. "Before you cheated, did you consider ending your marriage the right way and giving yourself a chance with this man?"

A stray ray of sun catches the sleek metal ring on my right hand. My gaze falls to the symbolic band that wraps around my finger and simultaneously my world, holding it together and reminding me that there was a time not long ago when Misha wanted to be with me, in spite of the crappy circumstances.

"Yeah...I thought about it. But he'd never leave Vicki for me. I know that now."

The ring taunts me, winking silver in the morning light. What am I going to do with you now, I think despairingly. Do I continue wearing it? Lock it away in a drawer to rediscover when I'm much older? Will I have gotten over everything it represents by then?

My thoughts are interrupted by the screeching sound carrying over the baby monitor. In an instant, I leap to my feet and bound out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the nursery.

Zeppelin is wailing profusely, tiny pink fist protruding from his periwinkle sleeper to wave in the air. Arrow shifts in the adjacent crib, mewling softy as her brother's cries awaken her.

"Shh," I urge in a whisper, swooping down to lift my little boy into my arms. I rock him gently, shushing his whimpers until they fade into hiccups.

Dani enters the room looking weary and disgruntled in her nightgown, wielding two bottles of milk. I pass Zeppelin to her, pressing my lips to her forehead in a chaste kiss.

"Good morning," I smile ruefully.

"Morning," she echoes, wrapping the fussy infant in a snug embrace. I watch as Zeppelin's tiny, rosebud mouth parts to latch on to the bottle. "But not for these little bundles of joy. They have their days and nights confused."

"Embrace the chaos," I quip with a sigh. "That's parenting in a nutshell, isn't it?"

"Mhmm," Dani murmurs, handing me the other bottle. "For Arrow. Then it's bath time."

I lift Arrow into my arms and cradle her in a semi-upright position, tilting the bottle at a careful angle to prevent choking. I have to take great care with these precious, fragile creatures. They're delicate as flowers, even if they're as noisy as truck engines.