Rachel and Simon's wedding had been amazing, even if small. Davyn had loved seeing his friends again. For a couple of days, he could bask in their happiness and their normalcy and pretend that his life wasn't fucked up beyond belief.

Sure, Rachel and Simon were still in the Counters and had to pretend to actually like it, but at least they were doing it together. The search for the perfect serum formula had stopped once the Counters had tested the latest version on Freider's child, at least for the moment, so Rachel was allowed to return to Washington and work on the jewel project instead.

"It's mayhem there since you left," Simon told Davyn and Phillip. "With the servers deleted, they have to redo some of the work that they no longer had in paper form."

"Damn it, I should've burned the archive, too," Davyn said between his teeth.

"You did enough damage, trust me," Simon said with a grin. "The good part is they're funding research to improve cyber security, and I'm their go-to guy. I've learned enough to open my own business."

"You should definitely do that," Phillip agreed. "And not let anyone know."

"I have to let someone know. They'll have to run it while I'm away for them. But I've been thinking of getting my brother involved. He's a bit of a prick, but he has the brains for it." He nodded towards a sullen guy next to the bar.

"Oh, come one," Rachel said, trying to sound serious. "He's just upset that his lady friend refused to come to the wedding with him."

Simon rolled his eyes. "I can't stand that woman. I don't know what Daryl is thinking anyway. She has a kid who's like ten or something. Anyway, I'll see about that business."

"You do need a backup plan."

"What's yours?" Rachel asked, narrowing her eyes at Davyn.

"Renewable energy," Phillip answered before Davyn could try and desguise his crime-lording into something honest.

Both Simon and Rachel looked surprised.

"That...That's actually very smart."

"It is, isn't it?" Phillip asked with a grin. "We're getting into lucrative businesses, Davyn and I."

"That's great." Rachel turned to Davyn. "How's college going?"

"Fine. I just wish it would be more practical."

"Remind me to give you some notes and projects I did during college and later on. They might help you."

The rest of the celebrations passed in a fun and pleasant manner, so by the time Davyn returned to Chicago, he was almost appeased. Almost himself again, detached from Snitch Gravel and his obsession with revenge.

But it only took a few days for all the joy to seep out of him. Once again on break from college, he was left with endless hours of verifying and improving Baron's dealings. He loved and hated it at the same time. The control was something he enjoyed. The knowledge that what he was doing mattered very little to his plans was not. 

As the days wore on, another clock inside him started to tick, and he found himself crossing off  the days, waiting.

Because it would happen soon.

Freider's twins would be born.

And the hatred inside him only grew every time he thought about it. How Freider could have it all. How his wife had moved on so easily, building her family as if nothing had happened.

It had, for him. He'd gone through hell with her as a salvation put on the highest pedestal, and when he'd returned, he'd found she was a false goddess. A traitor and a liar. Had she ever even loved him? Why had he been so weak?

Every question added a tiny grain to his resolve to finally do something. It had been over two years since his threat, and it was obvious that they'd forgotten about it. They weren't living in fear, just going about their days without even acknowledging his existence.

That had to change. If he'd saved their firstborn, they owed him a kid. He owed them a death.

A plan slowly forming inside his head, he put someone on permanent watch near his brother's house. The criminal organization at least gave him that: people he could use to his ends. So when she went into painful labor in the afternoon of July 22, he was instantly made aware.

Immediately, he dropped everything and headed for the hospital. Fate would have it that he reached the place the same time as Freider and could hear her screaming as her husband helped her down from the car. Her wails echoed off the walls as Davyn made his way inside and procured another scrubs from a storage room, complete with surgical mask and cap to hide his identity. They continued all afternoon and well into the night as her labor continued without release. As midnight drew near, Davyn had to admit that he was impressed by the capacity of her lungs. Her throat was probably raw.

In the corridors, Freider kept pacing, looking even more worried than the last time he was there and his child was dying. Davyn took a few moments to analyze his brother. He looked older than the last time he'd seen him, as if the past two years had drained something from him. Maybe being a father wasn't that easy. Davyn hoped the next two children would run him into the ground. He was also grateful that Freider hadn't decided to bring the spawn of hell with him. Though maybe it would have been interesting to see the serum-infused monster in person.

After a while, Freider stopped pacing in front of the delivery room and left. Davyn seized the opportunity to move closer. He even dared open the door and step inside the room, keeping to the back. He fortunately couldn't see her over the doctor and nurses, but he could hear her better.

"Come on, almost out now," the old doctor said, his voice smooth.

There was no answer, just a pathetic wail. But a moment later, the desperate crying of a newborn filled the room.

"Here we are!" the doctor said, the smile in his voice obvious. "It's a healthy baby boy! Now, let's get the other out."

"Doctor, I think she passed out," one of the nurses said, while the other took the tiny baby and began washing it in the sink in the corner.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," the doctor mumbled.

Davyn leaned against the wall, content to observe the mayhem around him.

"Get her up. I don't want to give her a C-section if I really don't have to. She has another baby to push out."

The already born baby was already asleep by the time the nurses managed to shake some sense into the mother and forced her to push one more time. It was enough, because the baby was out in seconds, but she immediately fell unconscious again.

"Women," the old doctor mumbled, shaking his head as the cries of the new baby filled the room.

One of the nurses nudged his shoulder. "Withstand labor first and then talk." 

Davyn stifled a laugh. With her out of the picture, it was much easier to relax.

"It's another boy," the doctor declared to the unconscious mother. "She didn't even get to see or hold them. Make sure she's well taken care of. And the babies. I think they might need a bit of a lamp treatment. They're fairly small."

Davyn moved out of the way and hurried out and towards the room where they kept the newborns. His mind whirled as the plan formed in his head. This was too easy when everyone was always in a hurry and he had a nametag on his scrubs that passed their test. An hour past midnight, he was staring down at Freider's twin boys. The night nurse jotted down something on one of the charts, then picked up one of the babies there and headed out, most likely delivering it to its mother.

He took advantage of this to step inside and glance at the two boys. They were small and ugly, like babies tended to be, but an obvious improvement after Freider's last spawn. They'd already been tagged as Twin 1 and Twin 2. They were born twenty minutes apart, on different days.

"How fascinating," he whispered to himself.

Then, he picked up Twin 2, tossed him in the towel hamper and rolled it out of the room just as the nurse was returning. She didn't even notice him, caught up as she was in her own thoughts, mumbling under her breath. Why would she? He was nothing but one of many people in scrubs in that hospital.

Walking at a leisurely pace, he rolled the hamper towards the exit. The baby in it was silent, most likely asleep.  There was no point in hurrying. He still had work to do. Like a given, alarmed voices filled the corridor. The nurse had noticed the missing baby.

Davyn opened the door to the stairwell and pushed the hamper out, then returned to the corridor and waited. The doctor who'd assisted, a very old man by the looks of it, hurried to inspect the tragedy.

"We need to lock down the hospital and search! He couldn't have vanished into thin air!"

It was one in the morning and the staff was reduced. Nurses spread out in all directions, the doctor coming out last. He slowed his pace as he approached Davyn.

"An infant is gone. Lock the doors and search this floor."

Davyn just gave a curt nod and let him pass. The moment the man was with his back turned, he wrapped his arm around his throat from behind and pulled him against his chest. In a second, he pulled out the switchblade he had on him and placed it against the doctor's back, touching his spine with the tip.

"Don't make a sound," he said, making his voice much deeper and harsher. "You will never find that baby. You are to tell his parents that he's dead. If you don't, I'll see to it that you are."

"Wha-- Why? Who are you?"

"Oh, you've heard of me. On the news. Never in a good light." He lowered his voice even more. "They call me Snitch Gravel."

It was clear that the man had heard the name before. Few in the city hadn't. He trembled and let out a tiny yelp.

"So you know I will keep my promise. Do as you are told and nothing will happen to you. Is that clear?"

The doctor gave a tiny nod, his entire body trembling.

"Now you're going to continue walking and not turn around. And you will not mention this encounter to anyone. I will know if you do, and you and everyone you ever cared about will be dead."

"Okay."

Davyn nudged him forward and pocketed his knife. The doctor stumbled a few steps, then straightened and hurried down the corridor, keeping his gaze trained forward. He waited until the doctor turned the corner, then returned to the stairwell. There, he took off his scrubs, threw them in the hamper, and picked up the baby, wrapping him in a towel.

Down the stairs he went, into the parking lot, then headed for the ambulance ramp since that was the way out most likely to still be clear. Though, given the size of the building, he doubted everyone had been informed about the lockdown yet. He should've told the doctor to take back the lockdown, but he'd omitted that little bit.

No matter. The door was indeed clear, so he walked calmly out into the street and continued at a normal, relaxed pace for another two blocks until he reached his car. He opened the back door, placed the baby on the seat, then climbed behind the wheel.

Now what the fuck was he supposed to do?

The immensity of what he'd done came crashing down on him. He had no idea what to do with a baby. Sweat coated his palms on the wheel, and he kept looking forward. Not back to the result of his actions.

Right next to his car was a huge dumpster. That was definitely a solution. That was-- His muscles clenched so tightly his entire body hurt. As much as everything had changed, he couldn't sink that low. He might be capable of doing it, but he was sure he was going to have nightmares about it for the rest of his life. More blood on his hands.

He turned the ignition and drove off towards his place. Once a lit gas station came into view, he pulled over. It was three in the morning. That child was going to need food and diapers. And clothes.

"Shit," he said under his breath.

He had work to do.

For an hour, he drove around looking for nonstop places where he could get essentials. In the backseat, the baby slept on even as he left it alone in the car while inside stores.

When he reached his rented apartment, Davyn wondered if there was something wrong with it. It had been alive for over four hours and had done nothing. Maybe he should be grateful because the thing was obviously not dead, and it was being silent.

He dreaded the moment it would wake up. He. It was a boy.

"Fuck me and my genius ideas," he mumbled and unpacked the bottles and formula.

He'd never made formula before, so he opened up the container and read the instructions. It seemed simple enough. Hot water and the powder. He'd make a batch just to see how it was done. So he warmed up some water and mixed it with the powder. As if summoned by the disgusting smell of food, the baby began crying.

Davyn walked over to the bed and stuffed the bottle in his mouth. It quieted at once, suckling greedily. A distant memory of his mother feeding Ron resurfaced, so he placed a pillow under the baby's head to help him drink.

As he ate, Davyn watched him. He looked like any baby, with a tuft of black hair and an unclear eye color. The only redeeming thing about him was the softness of his skin.

His stomach turned, and his heart upped its rhythm as a sense of panic overwhelmed him. He still had no idea what he was doing, but it wasn't like he could turn back now. So he would focus on one action at a time.

That was how he found himself holding the baby up and patting his back to let out the gas after he ate. The thing fell asleep easily in his arms.

♣️

"You are fucking insane!"

Davyn couldn't agree more. "I'm very aware of that, so the affirmation is not helpful."

Phillip leaned back in his seat, a huge grin on his face as if Davyn's fuckups were highly amusing.

"You kept him alive for a week. That's very impressive."

"As it turns out, I have more memories of Ron being a baby than I thought, so I just did what I saw my mother doing."

"You're full of surprises."

He was also full of barf, but that was less impressive. It was hard to imagine how many fluids a baby could produce. At least he'd avoided being peed on so far.

"Did you know that baby poop is green?"

Phillip made a face and looked away even if the baby was in Davyn's arms so obviously not showing green poop.

"I didn't need to know that."

"Me neither, but if I'm to suffer, you're suffering with me."

"Yeah, right. I just stopped over for a few days."

"Enough to see poop."

"I find it highly hilarious that you're calling it poop. It's shit, Davyn."

"You're shit."

"Very mature."

"I haven't slept in a week."

"Cranky, cranky." Phillip watched him for a few moments. "So, what did you name him?"

"Name?" He hadn't even considered potential names for the baby.

"I could give you some inside intel. His twin's named Jeremy Jason."

Davyn scrunched his nose in disgust. "Double J? Seriously."

"I bet that if they had this one, too, they would've double J-ed him, too."

Yes, knowing Freider, it was a real possibility. Davyn glanced at the baby in his arms. While he'd been pacing around the room talking to Phillip, he'd fallen asleep.

"I can't believe you don't have a name for him. What do you even call him?"

"Brat, mostly."

"Then add another t and make it a name. Or call him Brad."

"Yuck, no." Davyn's mind spun with the possibilities but he found himself entrapped by Freider's patern.

Of what he would have done if Davyn hadn't crashed into his happiness headfirst. He'd have another double J. And the greatest punishment would be for his double J to be out there, but out of his reach.

"James," he said.

Phillip let out a bitter chuckle. "You're going to J him too?"

"Except this J isn't Freider's. Feels perfectly poetic."

"James," Phillip said on a thoughtful tone. "Little Jimmy. Sounds cute."

"Yeah. Jimmy." The name seemed to fit. The baby looked peaceful enough, accepting his unofficial baptism.

"How are you going to work and study with a baby, though?"

"I've met with Baron a few times last week. This thing sleeps a lot. Consistently."

Phillip raised his eyebrows. "This thing is Jimmy now. I should get you a crib before I go. Where does he even sleep."

"On the bed."

"With you?"

Davyn hadn't realized how odd that must seem to anyone, including himself before the baby, until Phillip pointed it out. He just shrugged and Phillip grinned again.

"Well, Davyn, I think you just found new purpose, my friend. There are many chapters you can close now."

A sliver of fear ran down his spine. "No. Nothing changes."

Phillip frowned. "But now--"

"Nothing. Changes." Davyn placed the sleeping baby on the bed, and turned to stare his friend down, fists clenched. "Nothing. Not Snitch Gravel, not my studies and experiments. Not my vendetta against the Counters. Not my vendetta against Freider. The orders stay the same."

Phillip stood, looking wary. "What else do you want to do to your brother?"

Davyn had no idea, but this hardly seemed enough. Though his revenge could take many interesting turns from now on. But he still needed information, so he would definitely not back down.

"How are you going to handle all of this?" Phillip asked.

"I don't know. But I will somehow."

Because something told him he had no other choice.

♣️♣️♣️

Well, this turned interesting... Davyn did the bad thing, and so easily. He could've done a worse thing, but fortunately stopped himself. Now he has a baby and has absolutely no idea what to do with it.

But baby Jimmy is here, and so is baby Jerry, though he lives with his less than stellar family.

We're so close to the end! And the story has been fully written, so it's smooth sailing until the end!

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to vote and comment.