Episode 18: Shadows, Mini Vamps, and Baby Mischief

First Person — Beckett

The hospital room is… surprisingly calm.

Terry lies back against the pillows, exhausted but radiant. Damien sits beside her, cradling their newborn. The twins, Persephone and Hades, perch on the edge of the visitor chairs, quietly observing.

And I? I linger near the doorway, invisible as always, frozen lemonade in hand.

Persephone nudges Hades. “Daddy, the baby smells… funny.”

“…It’s a baby,” Hades mutters replicating Dianas book twack to the head. “…They all smell weird.”

Persephone giggles, leaning forward to observe the tiny hands clutching Damien’s fingers.

I can’t help but smile faintly behind my mask.

It’s impossible not to enjoy this. Being an uncle is… strange. Joyous. Quietly chaotic. And best experienced from the shadows, where I can watch and participate minimally but completely.

Diana, finally off-duty, sits near Terry, holding the newborn’s tiny feet with careful gentleness. Her usual tsundere armor is gone. Instead, she hums softly, adjusting the baby’s blanket, cooing quietly.

I glance at her. Even she has moments of pure warmth. Rare. Precious. And somehow… terrifying in its intensity.

Terry sighs happily. “I don’t know how you do it, Diana. You’re always so… composed. How do you handle a newborn without wanting to strangle it?”

Diana glances up from the baby. “Rule one: You cannot control the baby. You can only guide it. That, and feed it when it demands food, or cry when it demands attention.” She leans closer, whispering: “Also… nap whenever possible. Never let exhaustion dictate your mood.”

Terry nods earnestly. “I see. Nap is survival. Got it.”

Meanwhile, Damien catches my eye and motions me aside.

We step into the quiet hallway, away from prying eyes.

“You’re good at this,” he says, voice low. “…Not just the baby part. The… calmly terrifying part.”

“…Explain,” I say.

“You know. That look. That control. You’ve got that shadow thing, the kind of… quiet authority. The baby listens to you without even being born yet.” “Honestly you would fit in very well with the phantomthornheart society considering how composed you are”

I shrug. “Experience helps. Observation. And misanthropy. Lots of misanthropy.”

Damien laughs softly. “Yeah… I can see that. So… advice?”

I consider. “You will never know everything even i how graduated school early and with my certficates you will won’t ever learn everything in this lifetime. You will never be perfect. And that’s perfectly okay. Calm observation beats panic. Keep the baby close. Watch the twins—they’ll teach you more than any book or guide could. And… trust Diana when she speaks. Or risk being corrected.”

He nods. “…Noted.”

Back in the room, the twins have begun their mischief. Persephone is dangling a small toy above the baby’s head. Hades is quietly whispering instructions: “The baby must learn the subtle art of being wickedly clever.”

I glance from the shadows. “…I did not authorize this.”

Persephone winks. “Too late.”

The baby giggles. Tiny, mischievous noises. Already corrupted by the mini vamps.

Diana, finally able to relax in her pjs at home later that weekend, sits on the couch with the twins and the baby who is visiting us. She flips through her book, still paying attention to the children’s antics.

“Persephone,” she says lightly, twacking her with the edge of the book, “don’t corrupt the baby too fast.”

Persephone shrieks in delight. Hades rolls his eyes, barely dodging a playful jab.

Even the baby gurgles happily, clearly enjoying the chaos.

Diana leans back, smirking. “Honestly, I could do this forever. Sadistic amusement… highly underrated.”

I sip my soda from the corner of the room. Shadows safe. Observing. Perfect.

Finally, Diana leans down and presses a warm, soft kiss to my mask.

“Don’t hide too much,” she murmurs. “You’re loved, Beckett. Even in the shadows.”

I adjust my mask, muttering faintly: “…Obvious.”

Persephone and Hades giggle again, tugging at my sleeve. The baby reaches a tiny hand toward me.

And for once, I don’t care that my world is chaotic.

Because in these quiet corners, among misanthropes, criminals, mini vampires, and sleepy parents, the shadows feel like home.