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The return home consisted of a slow, cautious pace, met with a state of detachment that Mimsy forced upon herself for fear that anything else might result in running or endlessly laughing or some other reckless, conspicuous behavior. It did not reach a state of vacancy that prevented her from being concerned about both the safety and continued possession of the child, however, so she huddled over his small, wriggling form, obscuring him from view as best she could with her thin body.

Lacking any concept of what 'cute' meant, she regarded the skill of gurgling and blowing tiny bubbles of spittle with intrigued attention, and poked gently at his lower lip each time he produced an especially impressive grouping of them. This was the most hilarious thing to him, she noted, if his consistent response of squealing laughter was any indication.

Despite the baby's lack of tactical silence in this manner, they arrived home without any interception or difficulty. But instead of hurrying inside, she stood at the edge of their yard, not far from the mailbox. With slow deliberation, she took in every detail of this:

In front of her was the home that her husband built for them, maintained and lived in with great pride and care. Her husband waited inside for her, the husband who had now married her eight times, whose love surpassed boundaries of time and space. It was the sight of perfection, as they had already agreed upon; but in her arms was the last impossible thing, the child that would manage to make perfection even more perfect.

A long, contented sigh expelled every ounce of her composure, and all of her excitement returned. After hurriedly crossing to the front door, she struggled briefly with the doorknob, then nudged the door closed again with her shoulder after slipping inside.

Robert was immediately easy to locate - she took careful steps towards the couch, and tilted her head to look at him at an angle that better suited the fact that he was presently sitting upside-down. Catching a glimpse of the baby would not have been difficult for him at this distance, but she adjusted her hold on him anyway, until his head was tucked just beneath her chin.

"Congratulations, husband," she murmured, eyes bearing the utmost adoration.

This was an unanticipated series of reactions, and Mimsy was so confused by them that she simply blinked and stared at him, attempting (and failing) to remember the direction she'd intended to go with this before he asked.

And honestly, if they were exploring tangential discussions, she found an appeal in the branching path that led to understanding why he had just been reading upside-down. There were priorities, however, which the baby reminded her of by impatiently kicking his feet. This sort of squirming was not dissimilar to Laika, so steadying him again was done with a fair amount of ease.

She took a deep breath, implying that this might be a lengthy answer - then stopped, let about half of it out, and gave him a very cautious look.

"Are you inquiring about his initial origins, or are you speaking on a more recent basis?" A small smile curled at the corners of her lips, and she narrowed her eyes, just slightly. "Because...it was my impression that you are well aware of where babies come from."

The threat was not much of a threat, though it never really had been, and she treated it as permission to settle into his lap, baby in tow. They all fit together like a set of nesting dolls that was missing a couple of layers.

As she spoke, she twisted to turn the baby towards him, allowing it to paw at him with his terrible grubby adorable little fingers.

"Yes, he is human." The relief and contentment that she felt over this was readily apparent. "He was present at the mall during the outbreak, like Alice, but was not as fortunate."

It helped to know that their efforts may truly have made a difference in her survival, in spite of any danger they'd placed her in. That added confidence was beneficial, considering the risk that a baby would have been in during her especially unstable state.

"He has been in Dr. H's care," she continued, in a pleasant tone that most would probably not use when discussing a vulnerable human in their Lead's hands. "He was exposed to infection, but Dr. H has developed a treatment. He thinks that it is promising for future at-risk civilians. Sunny will conduct regular checkups and instruct you on the regimen of medication until you are ready to assume that position, and he will remain stable as long as it is followed. But we..."

She smiled, and stretched up to kiss the corner of his lips.

"He is entrusted to us. Ours."

The child had a clearly observable penchant for fingers, which Robert seemed similarly concerned about. She momentarily considered whether or not this was identifiable as troubling behavior, but if Dr. H had not been bothered by it, there was likely no cause for concern.

This might not have been a good metric. In this case, at least, it was probably fair enough.

"Yes, it is good news," she agreed, patting the infant appreciatively on the back. This elicited a disconcerting burbling noise, and she immediately stopped in horror. "I--ah, I think that this child played a critical part in the development of the treatment, so he has truly been very brave."

They had all gone through a lot to get to this point - but here they were, happily settled within their home, like any normal family would be.

"No foolin'." Through a haze of intoxicated adoration, she gave him a wide, satisfied smile, before leaning her head against him. "We did it, Robert. We once again achieved the impossible. Together."

Hearing the baby cry at such a sudden and alarming volume startled her into a wide-eyed state of shock, and she was halfway to compulsively covering her ears when Robert managed to make the sound stop.

This was going to be a challenge.

But her husband seemed to know what he was doing, and the baby took well to him. Watching the two of them play was both fascinating and precious; she noted how he utilized methods of ensnaring and keeping attention very similar to those she had used with him, and wondered why his awareness of such a tactic had not deterred its effectiveness.

The child's enthralled state of fascination was too familiar for her to not smile at the sight of it. Her smile escalated into a soft giggle alongside the squeals of babyish laughter, amused that he was no less thrilled to see Robert return each time (which was something they had in common).

"What?" She blinked as she turned to look at him, belatedly registering that he had said something aside from 'peek a boo'. "Oh, ah..."

Perhaps she should have asked this. But the timeframe that Dr. H presented to her did seem somewhat lengthy, and she reasoned that it was safe to assume in this case.

"Well. Dr. H requested this assistance specifically because he was aware of my desire for motherhood, and stated that I--we--should provide him with a name and all of the care that he requires outside of the treatment, so..." This had to be the right assumption. Had to. "Indefinitely, I would think. We care for him for as long as we are here to care for each other."

His behavior with the baby was incredibly amusing to watch, and Mimsy was already laughing again even before he began to list names aloud.

"Speaking honestly: I always anticipated that our first child would be our Alice." The idea that their first child would be a boy, not a girl, had sincerely never occurred to her. "While I am not opposed to Alice in this instance, I presume that we may be in agreement that it would be better to await the arrival of a daughter."

A brief consideration arose to suggest 'Robert Junior' or 'Robert II', as per the names provided by insight to other realities, yet never made it out of her mouth. That name would belong to a child that he had more literally contributed to, as far as she was concerned, and no one else. It might have been insensitive and just a bit cruel, but she simply couldn't reconcile with the name suiting him in any way.

So she thought about them, and all about impossible things. She discarded names of people or connections that would incite any negative reactions from either of them, and rejected names belonging to their fellow hunters. And when she began to consider the category of scientists that overlapped with the category of impossible things, she landed upon an option that seemed to fit.

"What is your opinion of the name 'Peter'?" She smiled, playfully narrowing her eyes. "Unless you like the sound of 'indefinitely' as a name."

The concept of why Robert's response was phrased in such a way slipped past Mimsy. Though her concern was clearly more focused upon what was optimally suitable, much like her lack of inclination to name him after Robert, he seemed to refuse the name on a more fundamental level. It intrigued her for only a moment, before becoming very quickly derailed by the enthusiastic acceptance of her suggestion.

Hearing that this selection was perfect was excellently validating, but her smile was paired with an otherwise perplexed expression.

"Our little..." Was 'star lord' a nickname for theoretical physicists that she had never heard before now? What did that possibly have to do with Peter Higgs? She stared at the baby--at Peter--as though he might somehow provide her with the answer to this. And he sort of did, when Robert began to talk to him, referring to him as a candidate to be a Guardian of the Galaxy.

"Oh!" Well, he'd agreed, and she certainly wasn't going to correct him, lest she lose the Higgs again. "Yes, our little Star-Lord! He will most certainly become very familiar with the galaxy as he grows. We will prepare him well for the fantastic ventures that lie within his future, I think."

It was difficult to imagine how a weak little thing would ever guard anything, but she supposed that might have been how many parents felt. Surely not everyone's reacted to a child like hers had.

Those were very large aspirations for a baby, but she did nothing but register them as such. To dissuade the benefit of believing in the 'impossible', especially when the child in question was an impossible thing himself, seemed like the worst possible method to employ.

Of course, she wasn't certain. This was going to require an extensive amount of research, as it was already becoming very apparent that her amount of desire to achieve this step in their relationship had not directly transferred into an equivalent level of parenting skill.

"Robert and I were a very good team together," she informed him, though peek-a-boo was obviously much more appealing than her words. "Now we will be an even better one. You will see, in time. You will learn that this is true."

She stilled and returned to silence in favor of watching her husband captivate the baby's attention, earning that thrilled giggle each and every time. There was no denying that he seemed to be meant for the role of a father, and she searched for no reason to; she was just pleased with the knowledge that she finally had been the one to give that to him.