There was incessant crying and Klaus was unsure if it was his own, or Jeremy's, or the baby's. The baby who they had wanted, named, took in as their own, fed, cradled to their chests, loved beyond any measure that should be humanly possible and yet he still referred to it is "the" rather than "our." And then he came home from a long day's work, saw Jeremy smiling down at the little boy, a vacant giggle from lips that were too small to house such happiness and it click, a stream of tears starting as he dropped his satchel to the floor, kissed Jeremy's forehead, taking the boy form his arms to whisper a contented "ours."