"Say bye-bye, Ivy!" Daizi said, waving goodbye to Sally so Ivy would too, before attacking her baby with more kisses. It had gotten somewhat easier to leave Ivy home since they both had gotten used to it, but she couldn't deny she always felt better when they were reunited. She didn't even know what fears were in her mind about it, really, because rationally she knew of course it'd be okay. But something deep and primal wanted to be able to be certain of her baby's comfort at all times. When she was home, she could be.
With Sally gone, Dark went over to try to get his turn with his daughter, reminding Daizi she had to take off her coat eventually. As soon as they were able to actually able to exit the front hall, they slotted back into their constant routine with her. Once the relief of being back with their daughter subsided, they both recognized they wanted to rest, too, but only so much was manageable.
It was another quiet afternoon, leading to a quiet dinner. That night, on the therapist's suggestion, they did hand the twins plates with the food already set up, hoping it would just be accepted easily.
That night, Dark and Daizi spoke for awhile before falling asleep. Daizi managed to stay sleeping, but Dark soon found himself awake again, much to his frustration. He had one great night of sleep and now he was back to this. He kept willing the thoughts in his mind to just be quiet, but he couldn't stop from dwelling on Dr. Hepburn saying Alec idolized him. Although he had been told similar sentiments before about his boys, he couldn't understand---especially then, with how he felt about himself---why anyone would idolize him. And he got so deep into the overwhelming self-loathing, he got restless. His hands felt tight. His blood felt hot. And when he couldn't take it, he pushed himself out of bed. He knew what he wanted to do but knew he couldn't, so instead he slipped down to the kitchen, took an ice cube, wrapped it in paper towel, and pressed it again his bare wrist, the slight sting passing through the barrier just enough to settle him. He stood in the shadows of the silent kitchen looking out at the orange glow of the street lamps illumination the falling snow. It still wouldn't stick, he thought, wishing he could finally just cry.