proceduralpassion - Tumblr blog

proceduralpassion · 5 days ago

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Ohhhh this was everything fr. Much appreciated fluff after the angst in The Space Between Us!Verse lmaoo. Every single of those letters would have me bawling and I love how they personalized each one was (the way I could tell which letter was from which kid>>>>). Everything that LTYE Roman deserves after everything's he endured <3

dreamland: happy father's day

authors note: wanted to do something for father's day with our favorite not so little family. went a little overboard, cause i intended for the writing portion of this to be around 1k. don't ask.

the included graphics (the typos are intentional for the sake of realism) involve a lot of reading, but i think ya'll will appreciate them. at least, that's the hope.

happy father's day to all the dads' out here who actually deserve it.

lastly, there's a lil' line in one of the letters (it'll make sense once you reach that part) that will tie into sbto.

words: 3.5k

warnings: none.

It’s chaotic, but in true Reign’s family fashion, it’s just to be expected. Not the morning, per se. No, that’s pretty simple. Roman wakes up alone in bed, unsurprised yet partially annoyed to find his wife not pressed up against him but the space next to him vacant.

An unacceptable thing.

It doesn’t take him much time to head to the bathroom, empty his bladder, complete his hygiene routine and head out the room. Moving through the halls of his massive house, the smallest smile on his face as he nears closer and closer to the kitchen. The sound of his kids, trying—mostly failing—to keep their voices down. The delicious, mouth watering aroma of whatever is being prepared, his favorites, most likely. And finally, the actual sight of it all.

Aroha is the first to lay her eyes on him from where she’s being held by Tama as he sets the table. But, instantly, she’s wiggling and itching to get down. “Daddy!” The loudest, happiest greeting as she runs towards him, Roman easily scooping her up as she holds him by his neck and kisses his cheek. “Happy Father’s Day!”

Shared sentiments from the rest of the kids who make their presence known. Lina and Leya from the kitchen where they help Solana finish up breakfast. Aria, as she steps away from the big banner that expresses the same happy wishes. Tama, as he finishes setting the table, making a smart ass comment that’s easily rebutted by Koa and Kai who walk in from taking out Coco and Max.

And finally, his stunning, amazing, perfect ass wife. That beautiful, bashful smile as she walks over, leaning up to kiss him on his cheek.

It’s the best kind of greeting.

Breakfast is just as chaotic as lunch. And dinner. And any time all of his kids are gathered in one setting, except there’s less requests for things the kids want and more obvious difficulty with keeping the day’s agenda a secret.

He could get one of them to break, most likely Aroha. Or, Aria, and he tries, but one pinch on his arm from his wife is all he needs to know that’s not the best idea.

Doesn’t stop him from trying again later in the day.

A day that has to be one of the calmest he’s had in so long, he can’t even remember a time where he could refer to any weekend as calm. No arguing between the Littles. No Aria popping up asking him the most random of things or talking for almost five minutes straight with little to no pause.

He’ll never understand just where in the hell she got her talkative personality from.

Not even his shadows—Lina and Tama—hovering around, either asking for something or just wanting to pick his brain/chat/or try to convince him to do something for their TikTok account.

Hell, even the fifty million pets that his kids all somehow finessed him into getting—or keeping—keep their distance.

It’s….peaceful. So much so that he even takes a nap. Something he’s certain he hasn’t done since his thirties. Maybe twenties.

And, it’s all do to the woman he honestly doesn’t know what he would do without. Solana manages it all, makes sure the kids give him some maybe needed space and alone time. Forces him to take that annoying, nasty ass tea that has him out within half an hour of consumption, thus allowing him to take said nap.

She handles everything, granting him some hours of relaxation before the madness.

And, there is madness. Such is the case when it comes to their kids.

Especially when it’s for an outing that requires the whole family. From Lina and Leya, all the way down to Roro. It’s the full family for what Roman realizes is dinner arrangements Solana made for him for Father’s Day. At Imàgo, the nicest Italian restaurant in the city. One of his favorites. Since Solana, Roman doesn’t have a specific favorite restaurant, and that would only change if his wife decided to open one of her own.

Not that he hasn’t mentioned it to her at one point or another over the years, and for a brief while, it was a loose idea, but it never materialized into anything more, mostly because of her already insane schedule, working PRN shifts for nursing, the foundation, and just all of their kids. Still, if it’s something she wants at some point, he’ll support it. He’ll support her. He’ll always support her.

“You like em’?”

Roman looks over from where he stands in front of the dresser, open velvet, black box in hand that reveals two black diamond tennis chains. Complimentary to the 44mm AP Skeleton Tourbillon Ceramic watch on his wrist.

Also a gift from his wife.

His wife who suddenly has Roman wanting to cancel anything she has planned that won’t let him stay in their bedroom and spend the rest of the night ravishing her. Solana’s dress is short and royal blue, long sleeves with her shoulders and upper arms exposed, along with a deep slit by the neckline that reveals her perfect ass breast. Silver red bottoms, large diamond teardrop earrings, and her massive pink diamond wedding ring are her only accessories. Her hair is pulled into a nice updo, and her makeup, though unnecessary, is just as bold and glamorous as she looks.

Good.

She looks good.

“Damn,” he breathes.

Her smile widens as she walks over, reaching for the box. “I’ll take that as a yes, though my outfit isn’t exactly what I was referring to.”

Roman is listening. Trying, at least. “Baby….” Her being so close to him also allows him a whiff of her perfume, sweet and gourmand. She always smells so damn good. Solana takes the box from him, laying it on the dresser, the turn of her body allowing him a brief glimpse at her ass that sits nice and round in said dress. His jaw clenches. “You sure you don’t wanna just stay in tonight?”

She gives him that look. “And do what exactly?”

You.

All night long. Till he physically can’t. And even then, what’s a little pain?

Solana shakes her head, motioning for him to bend down so she can place the necklaces on him. Roman straightens to his full height when she does as such, Solana’s palms on his chest. “Nice.”

He watches her gaze travels over him. In true Roman fashion, his outfits consists of mainly black. Dark dress pants, black dress shoes, a simple black shirt with a dark gray suit jacket.

Simple.

Solana leans in closer, Roman moving to tug her into him, hands resting on her ass. She makes a sound, batting her lashes. “Maybe we should st—”

“Okay.”

His quick and easy agreement makes her giggle. “Nice try, mi amor.” Solana lifts her hand to stroke his beard. “But, the kids are excited about going out with you tonight. It took a lot for them to keep it all a secret.” Hence why they should have just told him in the first place, but he digresses. “However, if you’re up to it, when we get back…”

He makes a sound, dipping his head to kiss along her jawline. “Baby, you know I’m always up for that with you.” He doesn’t even need to be looking at her to see the smile on her face as she moves her arms around his neck. “How you think we got all these damn kids now?” He squeezes her ass, prompting her to squeal and shove him away.

“Behave,” she warns, eyes narrowed playfully, wagging her finger.

“I’m not promising nothing.”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course.”

The surprises continue for the Tribal Chief as he and his wife make their way out of room, some of the kids already downstairs, ready to go, a few others (Tama and Aria) the ones to keep everyone waiting. But, there’s something that comes over him when finally, the last two arrive down the steps, Aria saying something about “perfection taking time” and Tama popping the collar of his shirt.

That’s expected though. What’s unexpected is what Roman feels at seeing all of his children together, each wearing some shade of blue. His favorite color. Sure, Lina’s dress leaves little to the imagination. Leya’s does somewhat, too. But, seeing Aria and Aroha do “twirls” in their dresses. Koa and Kai, phones in hand, making snide comments about Tama still looking “washed.” It’s all so….wholesome.

And, it means a lot.

It really does.

The ride to the restaurant is, for the most part, fine. Lina drives Leya, Tama, and Aria, while the Littles ride with Roman and Solana. There’s a brief moment when they start arguing, but before he can even give them the, “when we get in this damn restaurant” speech, Solana is already on it.

Turned around in her seat, eyes narrowed just slightly, finger gesturing between the three, rapid words in Spanish leave her mouth, and though Roman has only learned a few words in Spanish since they’ve been together, he doesn’t have to be fluent to know she just instilled the fear of God in their three youngest. Especially when all she receives in response is quiet, synchronized “yes, ma’am.”

It puts a small smile on his face.

If only she would do that more often.

Imàgo is rented out. The only guests present the ones with the last name of Reigns and the security details assigned to said family. Three tables are used for the family of nine. The OG’s and Aria at one, the Littles at another, and Roman and Solana by themselves at the last. He’s a bit skeptical of that, primarily his youngest three being together in such close proximity, but it seems whatever the hell Solana said to them worked because they remain, for the most part, behaved.

All three tables are in their own worlds, sans Roman overhearing Lina make flirtatious comments to the waiter. A young punk probably in his early twenties.

Roman has him replaced with another waiter.

Aroha then confuses said new waitress with her requests for “chickey nuggies.”

“Chicken nuggets,” he clarifies, the young girl looking over at him with a mixture of clarity, confusion, and anxiety. “She likes chicken nuggets.”

“Umm, well, we don’t serve—”

“You do now.”

Aroha ends up with her nuggets, pleased and happier than ever.

Roman hasn’t a clue what Tama and the boys order, just knows there’s way too many plates, specifically in front of them. Same for Aria who always likes to order a damn near sampler of everything on the menu every time they go out.

“Daddy, I need options!” is her usual “explanation.”

“Damn kids acting like we been starving them,” Roman mutters as Solana steals a forkful of his Traditional scarpariello.

She chuckles, waiting until she’s done chewing before responding. “They like going out, baby.” She trades in her fork for a spoon to gather more of that nasty ass soup she ordered, taking a spoonful before adding, “besides, they’re paying for it anyway.”

Roman gives her a look. “What?”

She nods, using a napkin to blot her mouth. “They wanted to. Part of their gift to you.”

He reclines in his seat, partially taken back. “How can they even aff—” It’s the combination of Solana giving him that look along with him remembering who he’s talking about. “Never mind.”

Roro is too young, Aria spends money as soon as she gets it, Tama still probably owes his brothers, but the rest of them? Lina, especially Leya, Koa, and Kai? They most definitely have it.

Still, that doesn’t mean he wants his kids spending money on him. Roman makes a mental note to wire money back to their accounts tomorrow.

Solana is taking a sip of her champagne, gaze jumping from the other two tables back to her husband across from her when she sees him staring at her. She frowns. “What?” The frown deepens, Solana moving to pull her compact mirror out her Birkin. “I have something on my face, don’t—”

She’s stopped by the way he reaches over to take her hand in his, thumb brushing over her knuckles, before he lifts her hand to his mouth, placing the gentlest kiss. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Her smile is the equivalent of a million watts. “Thank you.” Roman notices the way her cheeks redden, an almost nervous shake of her head. “I almost didn’t wear this.”

His thick, bushy brows furrow. “Why?”

“I’m a mother, Roman. I’m in my forties now.” She shrugs, gesturing to said dress that has him thinking nothing even remotely appropriate considering the presence of all their kids. “It just feels a little weird to have my breast so exposed—”

“I don’t mind.” Not one bit. Not even a little.

She rolls her eyes. “Of course, you don’t.”

Curious, still holding her hand, thumb caressing her soft skin, he asks, “what made you wear it, then?”

Solana’s mouth curves into an amused smile. “The girls.” A quiet giggle, as she sighs. “Lina, specifically, said I should remind you just why there’s so many of them.”

Roman’s eyes rake over his wife’s curvaceous ass body, settling happily on her breast. “She wasn’t wrong.”

Not wrong at all.

It’s a nice, pleasant thing. Talking. Spending time together, even in the presence of his kids who occasionally require the attention of either parent. There is a brief issue though when arguing commences between The Littles. Over what, Roman doesn’t know nor does he really care to know.

It’s usually something stupid.

Aroha ends up sitting at the table with her parents, something that pleases her as she opts to sit in Roman’s lap versus the chair they’d pulled up for her.

It’s a bit inconsequential though as it occurs right before dessert arrives. A beautifully decorated sheet cake that reads Happy Father’s Day in blue icing, surrounded by the names of all his kids, and a customized cake topper. OTC in red and black.

Solana’s lips press against his bearded cheek, murmuring a quiet, heartfelt “happy father’s day, mi amor” as Tama cuts the cake, Aria pouting over how she wanted to do it, and Aroha standing on his lap, reaching for the first slice.

The cake was made by Solana and the kids, primarily Solana, Lina, Leya, Aria, and Roro. Roman is certain the extent his boys helped was using the piping bag to sign their names. It’s obvious with the distinct lettering of all the signatures.

However, surprises continue when the kids start sharing their gifts with him, starting with the drawing Aroha made of the family, Koa and Kai with big red X’s over their face. To the phenomenal sketch Leya drew, using one of his favorite photos of the two of them when she was Aroha’s age as the inspiration. Lina and Tama gift him with two pairs of custom Nike’s, the designs black and red, and blue and white. OTC stitched on the back. Koa and Kai give him a new iPad, again, OTC customized on the back, but even better, it’s already set up with the settings and everything the boys know their tech illiterate father knows and enjoys.

And lastly, Aria’s gift is a video montage she put together of home footage from Roman and the kids over the years. It’s similar to the one she curated for Roman and Solana’s anniversary that one year and appreciated just as much.

Loved just as much.

The night is finalized in the best sort of way.

Pictures.

Individual and group photos.

Roman takes photos with all of his kids individually and in group settings, whether it be him with the OG’s, him with the Littles, him with the girls, or him with his boys throwing up the one's. The final set are, naturally, with Solana. His favorite perhaps being the candid Leya captures of Solana holding onto him, head back, in mid laughter, a small, content smile on his face as he looks down at her.

And then, the entire family, those images captured by their young waitress.

Pictures that includes his youngest to his oldest and the woman that made it all happen for him.

Roman only feels strongly about a handful of things, most of those things revolving around his wife and family. And, tonight is no different. He’s not sure he’s ever felt as loved, or even as happy, as he does in that moment.

At that point.

Because it’s truly not until a few hours later, when they’re all home, the kids all in their rooms, either fast asleep or close to it, that Solana meets him in his office as she typically does the evening after Father’s Day or his birthdays. In hand, a variety of cards from herself and the kids, except this time, she doesn’t have card envelopes.

She has long rectangular envelopes.

Letters. She has letters.

Roman’s brows are furrowed as he accepts them, his wife leaning over to kiss his temple, as she quietly explains, “we did it a little different this year.”

"I see," he murmurs, shuffling through the envelopes, counting eight. One from each of the kids, including his wife.

Roman lays the letters down on the desk in front of him, pulling her into his lap. He lifts his hand to her face, palm on her cheek. "Thank you, Solana."

It's not unlike her to go above and beyond for things like his birthday and Father's Day. She's been like that since Lina and Leya were born. But, it's the fact that even after all this time, she still jumps through hoops, deals with the headaches that comes with arranging everything, managing all of their kids with their variety of personalities, to make it happen. To make these little days of celebration sprinkled throughout the year something memorable. Something special.

Solana tilts her head, leaning into his hand. "How many times do I have to tell you that you never have to thank me for loving you?" Solana shifts again, leaning forward, her forehead pressed against his, fingers against the thin cotton of his black undershirt. "That's one of my greatest gifts in life."

Second to only loving the kids. Of that, he's sure.

Despite it feeling virtually impossible, with every year that passes, Roman's love and appreciation for his wife continues to grow exponentially. Each selfless act of love and kindness fodder for an evergreen of emotions.

Of love.

It's what makes him even more appreciative that he ignored her wishes when she said she didn't feel like doing much for her birthday this year. Roman also knows his wife well enough to know that was simply a generic response and filter for the truth being that she didn't want to see him go out of his way to take time off work and find arrangements for the kids.

Too bad. He did all that already.

Solana will spend three days in Bora Bora for her birthday with her girlfriends. He'll fly and meet her there on the third night, from which he'll take her to the Maldives (she loved it the last time they went) where they'll spend the remaining four days together. Just the two of them.

It prevents their kids from being away from both parents for too long, something that hasn't ended up going very well the few times they've tried. Nothing terrible. Just a shit ton of phone calls, texts, and an endless amount of voice messages. Usually from the Littles. Roro claiming the boys are being mean to her, and the boys trying to convince their parents why she should be put up for adoption.

So, the usual.

Solana climbs up off his lap, stroking his beard. "Don't take too long." Her hands drop to her waist as she fiddles with the tie of her silk robe, tone suggestive, "mami still has to give papi his final gift." Fuck. "And, it's only a matter of time before one of the kids will be outside our door—"

"I hope they like the feel of the carpet outside it then, cause that's exactly where they'll be staying."

"Roman." She giggles, shaking her head. He wonders if she knows he's being serious. Solana leans over, a final kiss to the lips and a soft, “I love you,” before she walks out, heading back to their bedroom.

Roman can’t really remember when or how it started, but as far back as he can recall, this part of the day has always been reserved just for him. When he reads the cards from his family. He’s almost sure he never outright told Solana he prefers to read them alone. Just knows that she knows it’s his preference.

To have that space.

That space for vulnerability.

And there exists no greater word to define what Roman experiences reading each letter, starting with Aroha’s and ending with Solana’s, the combination of it all leaving the Tribal Chief quiet and full, eyes misty from the abundance of it all.

The love.

#fic recs

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proceduralpassion · 6 days ago

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Another Ari HIT! The way you build tension is *chef's kiss*. I kept pausing in between paragraphs because I was so scared even though I knew what happened. Glad Sol and the kids got out before he woke back up and I love a Naomi cameo. Leave it to her to clock them kids before she really knew lmaoo

truth

authors note: this one is pretty heavy and a hard read, but it's how cody reacts when he finds out the truth. again, a brutal read, but it's just what happens. again, you must read 'the space between us' to understand the context. 'stuck' is more optional, though insightful.

the space between us // stuck

words: 3.5k

warnings: angst and violence (strong, graphic violence against women)

One glance in the mirror, our eyes meeting, his darkening with something familiar—and unwanted—I already know what’s ahead. Or, what he’d like to be ahead.

My focus remains on removing my jewelry, starting with my earrings. Beautiful diamond studs he believed, or just assumed, were a gift I purchased for myself when in actuality they were gifts from Roman.

One of several I have in this house.

The minute he’s behind me, arms enveloping my body, settling on my stomach, I manage a small smile. “It’s been a long day.” My throat clears as his mouth drops to my neck. “I’m—I’m tired.”

Not an exact lie. It has been a long day, even though that’s not the sole reason I’m rejecting his advances for intimacy. An understandable “request,” given it’s been weeks since we had sex. Something he’s always seemed okay with given the nature of our union and my low sex drive. For him. It’s a low sex drive for him.

Not that he can ever know that.

“Went to the doctor today,” he speaks, lips to my neck. I’m thankful for the words, because they assist with a needed distraction from the feel of him on me. It’s not unpleasant or uncomfortable. Just wrong. Years of being with him has unfortunately made any other touch feel inadequate. Feel wrong.

“Oh?” I don’t have to feign interest in that. I may not love Cody, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him in the way humans should care for one another. “What—”

“They had to rerun some tests.”

It’s the word ‘tests’ that especially has my interest, my eyes on him through the vanity mirror in front of us. Watching as words are mixed in with cold kisses that pepper my exposed shoulder. “Tests? What kind of tests?”

It’s not as if we talk a ton, but I would like to think if something was going on with him, medically speaking, he would have said something.

So, why didn’t he?

He makes a sound, and it’s subtle, so subtle, but his arms around me start to tighten. Lightly but consistently. “Routine labs, but since I’m getting older, they also ran a hormonal panel.” I don’t say anything, just continue to watch him, my hands moving to his forearms. His grip suddenly something less sensual and more…something else.

Something unfamiliar.

And uncomfortable.

“Cody—”

“And those hormonal labs came back with extremely low numbers, so much so that my doctor ordered additional tests—”

His grip continues to tighten, my chest also starting to tighten at the combination of his words and his hold. “Cody, you’re hurting—”

“So, he did,” he carries on, one arm still enveloped around me, the other lifting as his hand flattens on the space of my chest, fingers spread. “And you know what those came back with?”

I can’t look away from him, utterly confused by where he’s going with this, along with why he’s touching me like this, only for him to drop the single most unexpected sentence I think I’ve ever heard in my entire life. “They said my sperm count came in at zero.”

It’s only then my weak attempts at freeing myself from him stop. My breathing stops. My thinking stops. My heart stops.

What?

Cody’s thin lips form into a small, innocent smile. “I told him that can’t be. There must have been some sort of mistake. I have two beautiful kids with my lovely wife.” His hand snakes up, resting comfortably and calmly on my neck, before applying just enough pressure to force my head to crane back. “So, he ran it again….same result.”

“Cody—”

“I thought perhaps something had happened over the past few years. That maybe my sperm count somehow depleted in that time since the twins were conceived, but he explained that I have a condition.” He chuckles, darkly, and it’s right then and there, I know, just know that nothing good is about to follow.

Nothing good at all.

“Azoospermia,” he pronounces it so carefully, enunciating each vowel, like he’s been practicing. Practicing for this very conversation. Or, confrontation. “And that it’s more likely than nit I was born with it, so you know what that means?” A sharp, pained gasp when his hand wraps around my neck. “That means I’m infertile. That I’ve always been infertile.”

Oh my God.

“Who’s the father, Solana?”

It’s strange. I’ve dreamt about this. Nightmares. Night terrors, even. What it would be like if someway, somehow, the truth made itself known. If all the dark, shameful things I’ve kept from my husband, at the top of that list, the true paternity of the kids, escaped to the light. Wondered what he would say, what he would do. What I would say. What I would do.

I just never, ever imagined it would happen like this.

Words are suddenly the most painful, impossible thing in the world.

“I—I—”

His smile widens. Sinister. He looks sinister. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

My eyes double in size at the exact moment he yanks me up by my waist, dragging me towards our balcony. “Cody, wait—”

My weak attempts at prying his arms off of me, of pulling myself away from him are of no use. He drags my jerking and writhing body to the closed doors, managing to open one while still keeping his unrelenting grip on me. But, it’s not until we’re on said balcony, cool breeze whipping against my face and hair that I realize what’s happening.

Not until he starts trying to push me over said balcony that the horror of what’s occurring truly settles.

“No!”

Empty, soundless protests, my body flailing, feet struggling to stay planted on the ground, hands so tight around the railing of the balcony, I’m sure the pattern imprinted into the iron will be imprinted into my palms as well. “Cody, please!”

“Who is it!” He screams, continuing to engage in a form of psychological and actual torture, “forcing” my body over the ledge while also allowing me to remain on the tiles. “Who the hell have you been fucking, Solana!”

Angry, furious words of demand, tears spilling over and down my face, my heartbeat something in the danger range. The shock of it all, the unexpected nature of such a violent reaction, it all has me struggling to provide such a simple answer. That’s all he wants. An answer.

The truth.

But, the truth, though said to set people free, seems like the very thing that will damn me. That could tip him over the edge of sanity.

That would break him.

Except, it also seems like the only option I have when suddenly the connection between my feet and the flooring disappears, his strong grip leaning me more and more over the edge. “Tell me!”

And, it’s when I feel it, feel my weight primarily over the railing than not that I break, that I realize there is no escaping this. No running.

This is it.

“Roman!” I shout, heart and resolve breaking simultaneously. “It’s Roman!”

There’s a stillness. No longer that pressure of his firm hands pulling and pushing my body one way. His grip releases, and I waste no time in yanking back, stumbling onto the floor, hyperventilating.

The horror of it all settling in as I move my hands to my stomach.

My baby.

“You lying bitch.”

I can barely look up at him at such cold words when intense pain shoots through my face, my hand going to my jaw which feels like it’s just been hit with a block of cement. A short-term point of focus when Cody’s hand is back in my hair, gripping tightly and painfully as he starts dragging me back into our bedroom.

“Cody, no—” I’m silenced once more by another massive blow to my face, one that has my eyes blinking, my cognition disoriented and discombobulated.

“You disgusting whore!” Vision blurred, all I can make out is the unclear view of my vanity before he drags my face across it, items flying, splintering, sharp pain across my cheek followed up with a dull, heavy pain in my lower back where he stomps me, my body plopping to the floor. “I saved you and your pathetic family, and this is what you do!”

My body is on fire, screams tumbling out of my mouth as he continues to mercilessly punch, kick, and stomp me. “Stop, please!”

Again, pointless begging as I work to shield myself, in a fetal position, working to protect my core. My stomach.

My baby.

“I’ll kill you!” Chills. “I’ll kill you and him!” Another punch to the top of my head. He’s swinging and hitting at me wildly, barbarously, like he has no control over himself. Because he doesn’t. “I’ll kill all of you!” I faintly hear what sounds like a sort of sucking followed by a “pftt” sound. Spit. He’s spit on me. “You wanna be a fucking family with him? Then be a fucking family in death, bitch!”

That. That is the single moment that changes it all for me. It’s not about me. Not about the pain that wrecks through my entire body. The burning. The aching. The possible fractures and broken bones. The dizziness I’m struggling to fight, that threatens to carry me into unconsciousness. It’s the realization of what he’s saying. What he intends.

He’s not trying to hurt me.

He’s trying to kill me.

And after he’s done with me, he’ll go after Roman.

And after Roman….

No.

I can’t allow myself to even think about that. To even to think about the possibility of such an act. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They’re babies.

How could…..

But, that’s not something I can consider in this moment. Consider how much of this is Cody just spewing hatred and vitriol at a life shattering revelation. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, because if he can be violent with me, he can be violent with them. And, I can’t have that. I’m their mother. It’s my job to protect them.

And, I will.

But, I have to protect myself first in order to get to that point.

And the opportunity presents itself when he lifts my battered body and slams my back against the nearby dresser where items remain atop, one in particular catching my attention out the corner of my eye. His hands wrap around my neck, choking me, his deep blue eyes, dark, cold, unfeeling, as he watches almost with enjoyment as he works to end me. To end my life. My eyes clench shut, however, determination blooming to protect them, to protect my children. I lift my knee as hard as I can, Cody’s groan of pain conjoined with the release of his hands from around my neck. And, the second he’s doubled over, hands over his crotch, I reach for the stainless steel box on the dresser, a small but weighty trinket, and bash it across his head.

His body plops to the floor, one glance revealing he’s out cold. I gasp for breath, working to regulate my breathing while leaning down to lift his limp wrist. A pulse. Somewhat faint, but there.

That’s all I need to know.

Acting fully off of adrenaline, I grab my purse and stumble out of the room, forcing myself to make it down the hall to their rooms. Hitting the light switch near the door for Kaydence room, I’ve never been so thankful to see an empty bed.

She’s sleeping with her brother in his room.

Good. I can get them both at the same time. Rushing over to her closet, I rip it open and pull out her emergency bag. Bags that I made and packed for both the kids in the event of a home intruder. Things they could need and benefit from if we were stuck in the panic room for an extended period of time. If only I knew that said bags would be needed one day not to protect from outside danger, but the same danger that put them to bed not even an hour ago.

From within the home.

Her pink, sparkly bag swung over my shoulder, I make haste to Kaiden’s room, hitting the light switch that manages to stir but not wake Kaydence. The same can’t be said for Kaiden. He sits up almost immediately, as if already awake frowning, eyes widen. “Mommy, what’s wrong?” It’s only then that I briefly glance at myself in the mirror attached to his dresser.

Horrible.

I look horrible. Face swollen and bruised, my neck red and ruddy, the imprint of his hand from when he tried to choke me loud and visible. Blood drips from my scalp, down my face and onto my disheveled clothes. I look like I just survived a murder attempt.

Because, I did.

I did.

“I’m—I’m okay, baby. We’ve—we’ve gotta go.” It’s such a damn struggle to remain calm while everything within me screams and burns with rage and fear. To manage to grab his bag from his closet as well, moving over to the bed, gently shaking Kaydence. “W—wake up.”

Kaiden’s sniffling from next to me kills me. “Mommy...”

“It’s okay,” I try to comfort him, using the sleeve of my shirt to dap away the blood. "I'm—I'm okay."

Kaydence blinks while sitting up, rubbing at her eyes, a similar expression dawning across her sleepy face when she sees me. “Mommy—”

“We’ve gotta go now,” I stress, reaching over and lifting her out of bed. I look over at Kaiden, reaching for his hand. “Come on, baby.”

“What’s going on?” Kaydence is the one to ask as I somehow manage holding the bags and Kaydence, all the while with my hand never unclasping from around Kaiden.

It's the hardest thing in the world to keep from breaking down in front of them. “Bad—bad people tried to hurt mommy, and—and they’re gonna hurt you, too, so we have to go somewhere safe—”

Kaydence starts to cry while Kaiden remains uncharacteristically quiet. Or, perhaps, it’s just the shock of the most unexpected of situations.

I can understand that better than anyone.

“Where’s daddy?”

I freeze in the middle of the doorway, unsure just how I tell my children daddy is the danger we’re trying to escape.

“I—I don’t know.” A horrible answer, I’m sure, but it’s the best I have in this moment.

It’s all I have.

Continued sniffling, confusion, and crying as I manage to get us all to my Range Rover, hurriedly buckling the kids in, all the while looking over my shoulder, as if expecting and preparing Cody to come and finish the job.

To finish me.

And then….

Silent tears spill down my face the entire time, trembling hands starting the car as I rush out of the garage and speed down the driveway, out onto the main road.

“Were are we going, mommy?” Kaiden asks, a glance at them through my rearview mirror reveals the two of them holding hands. They’re holding hands.

God.

What have I done?

Kaiden's question is a valid question I didn’t think about until this very moment. Just where are we going? My first thought is my mom. It makes the most sense.

That’s why I can’t go there.

Cody will know that’s where I would think to go, and I don’t have a doubt in my mind he would show up.

And, I can’t bring this….mess to my mom’s house.

Can’t put her in danger.

Even if…if she already is.

Still, there’s only one safe place for us right now. A place where Cody, even with all his rage, could never reach us, even if he tried. Would be killed on the spot.

Roman.

We’re going to Roman’s house.

"Somewhere safe, babies."

Roman.

The same man at the center of all of this, the man whose mere existence rages Cody like no other person, brings out the worst in him.

Or, maybe that’s me now, because in all the years I’ve known Cody, that I’ve been with him, I’ve never known him capable of such….violence. He’s always been a man of carefully chosen words and sharp instinct, and I’ve never been naive enough to believe a mafia boss incapable of violence.

I just never thought him capable of violence with me.

With them.

And yet…..a part of me, some small, maybe unhealthy, illogical part of me understands it. Understands why Cody reacted so brutally. To find out the way he did that Kaydence and Kaiden are not his biological children is one thing. To find out their biological father is the man he hates most in this world, the man responsible for the grisly murders of his family, once a friend, now forever a foe, is…is different.

Much different.

It was too much. The human brain was only made and intended to process and compute so much, and even Cody, with all of his intelligence, could not handle such a truth. It broke him.

I broke him.

Which is why he tried to break me.

And while I might feel different when the shock wears off….I get it.

I drove him to this point.

I did this.

The blame can only go towards the person in the mirror.

It’s a crushing thing that sits with me, weighs me down, distracts me from my pain. That along with my babies who continue to sit in the backseat, confused and crying, clearly worried about me.

I did this.

Three words that stick to me, circle in my head like a bad song on repeat, even as I arrive at Roman’s place, security at the gate letting me through without even stopping me. As per usual. But, it’s only when I pull up in front of the house, the twins questions transitioning into “where are we, mommy?” that the logical part of my brain takes a backseat for something completely opposite, completely different. Grueling, confusing, and so much heavier.

Feelings.

I start to feel.

The gravity of it all, the implications and outcome of such a devastating, life-changing night. The pain that soars through my body, blood that continues to stain and drench my shirt.

I’m feeling it all.

But, nothing can prepare me for the feelings that surge and rush the minute Roman rips open the door, his eyes widening at the sight of me. And, the kids. There’s a lingering glance on them, between the both of them, children he hasn’t seen in years but asks about all the time. Supports in the only ways he can with gifts during major life events like birthdays and holidays like Christmas and Easter. Children who share his DNA. His bloodline.

There’s such an influx of emotions present in his expression, but it’s something he clearly catches as he focuses back on me. A few emotions outshouting others.

Confusion.

Shock.

Fear.

Kaydence and Kaiden cling to either side of me, as I finally find words to share. “We…we had nowhere…nowhere to go…” I don’t know what it is, the adrenaline that fueled and enabled me to get my babies out of that house and to somewhere safe. Being in front of Roman who’s always, in the most ironic of ways, made me feel the safest. Or, perhaps a combination of it all. Regardless, something comes over me. All of it. The extent of Cody’s attack, physically and emotionally, smashing and shattering into me. My body sways forward, Roman easily catching me as Kaiden and Kaydence cry out.

“Mommy!”

I hear them. I do, but it’s all so distorted and almost distant. I hear Roman shout out for someone to call Michaels. His long-term doctor.

“Please, mister, you gotta help her!”

“Yeah, mommy’s hurt really bad!”

I’d take an endless amount of Cody’s fists to my face if that meant never again having to hear my children beg and plead, so terrified and desperate for help as Roman carries me into the house. They don’t deserve this.

Any of it.

Something soft underneath, his sofa. A place I’ve sent so much time on, in so many different ways, but not like this.

Never like this.

My vision remains blurred, the fight with staying awake and conscious a losing one, but one I continue to stay in, nonetheless.

“Baby.” Roman’s voice, the most calming thing right now. His hand pushing back the hair that clings to my face, wet and caked with blood, some old, some new. “Baby, look at me.” I feel him take my hand at the same time I overhear a familiar voice.

Naomi.

I hear Naomi, soft and soothing. The kids. She’s talking to the kids. If not for the situation, for the pain that rakes through me, exploring every inch of my body, I might laugh.

Not even two weeks ago, spending the day out with the twins, I’d run into her. The first time we’d spoken in years. Since college, I believe. It was the first time she’d met the twins. I still remember the peculiar look she gave them initially. Like, she was studying them. Like she knew.

And, if she didn’t then. She does now.

“Solana.” Roman’s deep voice brings me back to him, tears intensifying the blur of my vision. “Who did this to you?”

In theory, a simple question. There’s only one answer, but it’s an answer I can’t say. Not with the kids present. They can’t know.

They can never know.

So, I give him the only answer I can. One that protects my babies but also warns Roman that anything and everything about us, about them, is about to change.

Forever.

It’s the last thing that leaves my mouth, the sound of my children’s voice and Roman’s concerned gaze and gentle touch the parting gifts before I succumb to darkness. “He knows.”

#fic recs

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