Chapter 518: A Name

By the time Lucas arrived, Dean had already been told three separate times that he needed to sleep.

He had ignored all three.

The recovery room had been rearranged to accommodate family without turning the royal medical wing into an unofficial reception hall, with additional chairs brought in along the windows and the lights lowered enough that Dean no longer felt as though he were lying beneath another surgical lamp. Minerva had somehow arrived carrying a folded baby blanket despite their son being safely inside an incubator several rooms away, while Otto stood near her with the expression of a man who had abandoned an imperial gala and had no intention of explaining himself to anyone.

Lucas reached the bed first.

He was still dressed for the celebration in a dark formal suit, although his tie had been removed somewhere along the journey, and the moment he stopped beside Dean, his green eyes moved slowly over every visible monitor, intravenous line, and medical dressing before finally settling on Dean’s face.

"I’m alive," Dean said.

"I can see that."

"You’re inspecting me."

"I am your father, and you were in emergency surgery less than three hours ago, so you can tolerate being inspected for another minute."

Dean smiled despite himself.

Lucas bent and kissed his forehead, keeping one hand against the side of his face for several seconds before finally straightening, and only then did some of the tension disappear from his shoulders.

Trevor came closer next, his own formal jacket still buttoned despite the August heat outside, and rested a broad hand gently against Dean’s hair.

"You frightened us."

"I frightened myself, which I think is considerably more impressive."

"That is generally difficult to accomplish."

"Pregnancy has expanded my range of talents."

Sebastian, who had remained a few steps behind them with his jacket folded over one arm, released a quiet breath that sounded suspiciously like relief.

Dean glanced toward him.

"You look terrible."

Sebastian stared at his younger brother.

"I was informed that you had gone into premature labor and were being taken for emergency surgery while I was twenty minutes away."

"And somehow I am still looking better than you."

"That does not improve your argument."

Dean’s mouth curved, satisfied by the return of Sebastian’s usual irritation, and beside him Arion finally relaxed enough to lean back into the chair he had barely left since the surgery.

He was still holding Dean’s hand.

Across the room, Rina stood near Minerva with her arms folded, unusually subdued until her attention shifted toward the tablet displaying the live NICU feed.

Their son remained asleep beneath the incubator cover, a tiny dark-haired shape surrounded by equipment that looked disproportionately large beside him.

Then Rina looked toward Dean.

"So, what is his name?"

Dean went still.

Arion turned his head.

Lucas noticed immediately.

"You still haven’t decided?"

"We had a shortlist," Dean said carefully.

Sebastian folded his arms.

"That sounds like no."

"We had several excellent possibilities."

Arion looked at him.

"We had several possibilities."

Dean ignored the correction and reached toward the tablet resting near his hip, opening the note they had been editing for weeks before pregnancy had abruptly decided their deadline was much earlier than expected.

"Alexander."

Otto nodded once from beside the window, apparently finding nothing objectionable about it.

"Theodore."

Minerva smiled.

"Cassian."

Rina immediately brightened.

"That one."

Arion looked toward his sister.

"You do not get a vote."

"I am his aunt."

"You are still not getting a vote."

Dean continued before the argument could develop.

"Evander, and Aurelius."

Trevor considered the list for a moment before looking at Dean.

"You managed to choose names that sound as though half of them might rule an empire and the other half might invade one."

Dean rested his head against the pillow.

"He is Arion’s son, so those may eventually become the same activity."

Arion turned toward him with mild offense.

"My personality is not responsible for imperial expansion."

"You transformed infected beasts into wildlife because you told them to behave."

"That has absolutely nothing to do with imperial expansion."

"It demonstrates a certain approach to problem solving."

Lucas laughed quietly, while Sebastian moved closer to the bedside tablet and enlarged the NICU feed enough to inspect his nephew without leaning over Dean.

Their son still had not opened his eyes.

He slept with one tiny fist close to his face, dark hair now dry enough to clearly beneath the soft cap the neonatal team had placed on him, and although Dean understood everything the physicians had explained about premature babies sleeping for long periods, he still found himself watching for every movement of the small chest beneath the blanket.

Minerva followed his gaze.

"He has Arion’s hair."

Dean looked toward the screen.

"He has been alive for several hours."

"The hair is still dark."

"That does not make it genetically conclusive."

Lucas smiled.

"He might have your mouth."

Dean immediately looked interested.

"You think so?"

Sebastian glanced toward him.

"He does."

Arion leaned slightly toward the screen as if greater concentration might allow him to verify the claim through a camera several rooms away.

Rina laughed.

Within minutes, the discussion deteriorated into increasingly speculative conclusions about a child who had not even opened his eyes yet.

Otto believed the shape of the nose looked familiar, Minerva informed him that newborn noses did not provide reliable evidence of anything, Lucas remained convinced about Dean’s mouth, and Trevor eventually pointed out that premature infants changed considerably during the first weeks and everyone might be completely wrong.

Dean listened to all of it.

He liked hearing them argue over harmless things.

After several months filled with infected forests, Claudia’s research, Arion’s unexplained abilities, and the constant monitoring that had surrounded the pregnancy, there was something almost comforting about his family debating whose chin a sleeping newborn might possess.

Unfortunately, staying awake required more effort with every passing minute.

The first time his eyes closed, Dean noticed and opened them again.

The second time, he apparently missed part of a conversation about Theodore before realizing Lucas had asked him a question.

Arion’s thumb moved slowly over the back of his hand.

"You need to sleep."

Dean looked toward him.

"I am awake."

"You were not."

"I was thinking."

Sebastian made a quiet sound.

Dean turned his head.

"Don’t."

"I said nothing."

"You were about to."

"I was thinking."

Dean narrowed his eyes at him, then ruined the entire effect with a long yawn that made Rina laugh softly from across the room.

Minerva moved closer to the bed and adjusted the blanket over Dean’s legs.

"The name can wait until tomorrow."

Dean’s eyes shifted once more toward the NICU feed.

"He shouldn’t be alone."

"He isn’t," Arion answered immediately, his voice losing every trace of amusement as he followed Dean’s gaze toward their sleeping son. "There is an entire neonatal team watching him, and I’ll go back as soon as you fall asleep."

Dean considered arguing, but exhaustion, the remaining anesthetic, blood loss, and several hours of forcing himself awake through stubbornness were finally stronger than his ability to object.

His fingers curled more tightly around Arion’s.

"Don’t let anyone name him while I’m sleeping."

Rina looked offended.

"I would choose something excellent."

"That is exactly why I’m worried."

Trevor laughed, and even Sebastian smiled.

Dean closed his eyes again.

This time, he did not reopen them.

His breathing gradually settled into a slower rhythm, the tension leaving his face as sleep finally pulled him under, while Lucas quietly adjusted the edge of the blanket near his shoulder and Arion remained beside him with their hands still joined.