An Imperfect Beauty and Her Beast

Love and Sacrifice

A/N Well this is officially it guys. I tried making this long, I really hope you like it. And I also hope it was a good ending. Thank you to all of those who supported the story, I truly appreciate it. It's been an amazing experience writing this. And for a final time for this story, please vote/comment/share!

"There's no way in hell that I'm naming my sons Norman and Freddy," I said while lying on the bed. It wasn't like there was much I could do. It's been almost nine months and the triplets have really made their selves known. David and I were still picking out names, due to the fact that he wanted to give them horror movie villain names. I don't know what he's thinking.

"What? It's not like I'm suggesting we name them Pinhead and Hannibal."

"Just nothing to do with horror movies."

"Says the person who wanted to name her son Castiel."

"Hey! That was a phase!"

"Yeah? What about Sam and Dean?"

"I still think they're great names," I said while crossing my arms. I looked away feeling all pissy. God I hate these hormones. They make me want to cry every five minutes.

"Aww, c'mon. Don't do that," he cooed while crawling into bed next to me.

"Do what?" I asked, still stupidly holding back tears.

"Cry. I hate seeing you cry."

I looked at him and replied, "It's not you. It's these stupid hormones."

Instead of responding, he kissed me and pulled me into his arms.

"How are we ever going to name these kids? I'm due in a week and we still have no idea!" I said frantically.

"Hey, it's going to be okay. We'll figure it out."

"But it's not like naming a turtle! These are real people!"

He began rubbing soothing circles on my belly as I tried calming down.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to say thank you. I love comforting you."

"How 'bout this. I choose one boy name. You choose another. Then we meet half way for the girl."

"I like that. But please no horror names."

"I'll try," he said while flashing his handsome smile at me. Even after all this time, I couldn't help but blush at this action. I could feel his hand brush against my cheek as I continued to feel the heat rush to my face. I snuggled my head closer into his arms so that he couldn't see the redness, but I could still hear a low chuckle coming from his mouth.

I slowly popped my head out as I took his arm into my hands. Faded, jagged scars covered his pale skin, reminding us all of their meaning. I lightly traced each one, always remembering to be grateful that he was still here, that he pulled himself out. David wrapped his hand around his arm, covering many of the scars.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"For the scars. For having to look at them." I felt him bury his face in my hair as I rubbed circles on his hand.

"The past is the past, and you're already sorry for what you've done. You are alive and you are perfect just the way you are. You should only be sorry if you add to them now."

"Never. Eight years clean. I wouldn't break it now."

"Then don't be sorry," I whispered as I butterfly kissed his palm.