Twin Image: Family, Before Anything

Chapter 3

                             -August 4th, 4:37 a.m.-

                                    ~Jade's POV~

I wake up with a start, hearing my son burst out scream-crying. Tobias wakes up too, and I start to sit up to go get our son but, he stops me. "I got him babe." He says, before getting up, walking over to the crib, and picking him up. He bounces him all the way back to the bed and sits down with him as he cries. "What's wrong mamababy?" I ask my son as I scoot up next to him and his father.

"He's probably hungry. Tell her papas, tell her you're hungry." Tobias baby talks to him, and he cries some more. "Here, lemme see him then," I say, and he hands him over to me. I lift up my shirt and he latches on just like that, just like the first few times. I levitate a blanket over to me from a baby stuff shelf Tobias also got up here for me, even though I could've done it for us. I put the blanket over him and my shoulder while he eats, and I lay back up against the headboard.

"Yep, he was hungry." I say, looking over at my husband. "Figured, since he woke up around this same time yesterday, and the day before that hungry." He says, and I smile at him. "Attentive I see." I tell him, and he smiles back at me. "Well of course, I gotta get this baby-daddy thing down." He says, making me laugh. "And speaking of attentive, since your breastfeeding, should I take back all the formula your aunt and I brought?" He asks me, and I shake my head.

"No, because as soon as he sprouts teeth, he's going straight onto the bottle." I tell him, still breastfeeding our son. "You know he's not gonna like that babe, we're gonna be dealing with one fussy little baby making him transition like that." He says, and I squint at him funny. "How would you know he's not gonna like it?" I ask him, and he gives me this look. "I mean come on, if you were a baby and had delicious booby milk rip away from you and were given a mediocre mineral concoction for a replacement, wouldn't you be mad?" He asks me, and I look at him for a second, before giving him a 'touché'. "But still, I'd rather deal with a fussy baby then tore up nipples. Our little boy is just gonna have to deal with the transfer." I say, and my husband starts looking down where the blanket was covering our son.

"Transfer." He mutters, obviously thinking about something. "What's on your mind love?" I ask him, and he looks back up at me with sad eyes. "Nothing, at least, nothing important for the moment." He says, and that makes me even more curious. "I can see it in your eyes Tobias, something's bothering you. Tell me." I say to him, and he sighs before looking away from me. "It's just, something hit me." He starts, "In sixteen years and three hundred sixty one days, he'll turn seventeen." He says, gesturing to our son.

"Yeah? And what's so wrong with that?" I ask him, and he gives me a 'really?' look. "Natalie, what happened when you turned seventeen?" He asks me, and just then, what apparently hit him, hit me. When I was seventeen, I was given a choice. Five bowls to be exact. Each individually filled with each factions symbol.

Burning coals for Dauntless, grey stones for Abnegation, water for Erudite, glass for Candor and soil for Amity. The Choosing Ceremony. "I can't believe I forgot." I murmur, with fear settling in my heart. When he turns seventeen, he'll be given a choice to stay with us or leave us. All of our babies will.

"I can't believe I forgot what kind of world we live in." I finish my thought. "He might do to us what I did to my parents." I add, and I realize he stopped eating and take the blanket off to see he fell right back asleep. I put my shirt down, and I hold my son close. "And he might not." My love says, getting my attention. "He might grow to love Dauntless, just like I'm sure he'll grow to love us." He tells me, as I lay our full and sleepy baby in between us.

"And anyways, we're gonna make sure we give him no reasons to leave, and we'll show him how amazing Dauntless is. And he'll choose Dauntless. He just has too." My husbands continues, laying down, having only one arm support his head so he could watch our son sleep. I do the same, to where it made all three of us closer, "All we can do is hope, and pray when the day comes. For now, we'll love him." I say, kissing his chubby cheek. "For the sixteen years and three hundred and sixty one worry-free days we have left."