It began at 1:07 AM.
A sudden, sharp wail sliced through the silence, jerking Aria from a shallow, dreamless doze. She sat up too quickly, wincing as her body reminded her what it had just been through. Leon stirred on the floor beside her, blinking hard.
"Who is it?" she whispered, reaching for the baby monitor even as the sound echoed clearly from the crib two feet away.
Leon was already moving. "Elias."
They'd agreed on a rotation schedule.
They'd printed it.
Color-coded it.
Talked through it twice.
But none of that mattered now as Aria instinctively rose, tugging on the soft wrap and reaching for her son before Leon could even get both eyes open.
"Aria—no, you're supposed to—"
"I know," she said, her voice soft but unwavering. "But I've got him."
Leon stood and rubbed his eyes, yawning as he leaned against the doorframe, watching her sway gently with Elias in her arms.
"You said you wanted to follow the plan."
"I also said I wanted to hold him every second of every day," she whispered, pressing her lips to Elias's hair.
He couldn't argue with that.
By 2:34 AM, it was Lila.
And by 3:17 AM, Amara made her debut with a shriek that sounded far too mighty for her tiny lungs.
Leon handled that one.
Sort of.
He fumbled the bottle, dropped the burp cloth, and briefly forgot how to swaddle.
But he kept whispering to her, voice steady even as his hands trembled.
"I know, little star. I know. Papa's got you. It's okay…"
Aria, watching from the couch with Elias tucked against her chest, tried not to laugh as Leon wrestled with the swaddle blanket like it was an origami puzzle from hell.
"She's not a burrito," she murmured.
"I know," he muttered, finally managing something that looked secure—if abstract. "She's a very opinionated croissant."
4:00 AM arrived like a soft fog.
Three babies. Three tiny bodies nestled close. And two adults sprawled across the nursery floor, barely vertical but entirely alert.
Leon had his arm around Aria now, their backs against the wall. Lila slept between them, skin to skin against her mother's chest, while Amara nestled in Leon's arms like a perfect jigsaw piece.
Elias was back in the crib. Peaceful. Angelic. For now.
"Do you think they planned this?" Aria asked, her voice hoarse but amused.
Leon kissed her temple. "A synchronized campaign to break our will?"
"Exactly."
He chuckled. "Then they're amateurs. We're still alive."
"Barely," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.
But even in the haze of exhaustion, something shimmered beneath it all.
That sense of us. Of family. Of getting through the storm together—even if neither of them knew what the next hour held.
They didn't sleep. Not really.
But as the sky outside began to lighten—pale peach bleeding into lavender—Leon reached for Aria's hand.
Fingers laced. Hearts steady.
And amid the soft snores, the occasional hiccup, and the shuffled sound of a blanket being adjusted again… they smiled.
The first night had come and gone.
And they were still here.
Together.