Sitting in the lobby, the older male rocked the new born silently, his eyes closed and a tired smile placed upon his features, as his bride rested in the other room. Despite coming into this world only a few hours earlier, the new born had wide eyes that held a silent wonder.

Eyes that were like his father’s.

Vincent could not help but smile. And yet, he hurt on the inside. No matter how many times he tried to push the thought away, or wish to wake up from this dream, when he opened his eyes, the problem still stared him in the face, with such curiosity.

Vincent’s own eyes were a simple brown that held knowledge and wisdom. This child’s eye color was lighter blue, like his mothers. But, the form, and curiosity within it, belonged to his biological father.

His own hair, long and raven, bound by a hair band against his neck, was not the same type and color of the baby who he held. No, this one’s hair was light, almost clear, just like his father’s.

Vincent closed his eyes again, that pain hurting deep inside of him. He could not change this child, nor could he stand to be hateful of the situation.

He held the child of another man. The child his wife gave birth to.

It burned on the inside. His body trembled. He knew the man well. Very well. His own student.

Yet, there was no hate, and no question as to why. He knew the answer. And when he opened his eyes again, to look down at the new born, there was no worry either.

He would raise the child, and love the boy as his own. He knew he had no other choice; however he still wanted to raise the child.

Hearing the small whispering of another, Vincent’s eyes looked up, and across from where he sat, at Evan. The younger male held a new born as well, the twin of his own child.

Kira and Ashley; best friends who could have been sisters. His and Evan’s wives had given birth to two little boys, that were not their own.

“Evan, if you-”

“No, it’s cool,” Evan looked up. His eyes looked less painful, and more understanding. “I want to.” There was a difference in the way both Vincent and Evan viewed the father of their new children. Whereas Vincent cared for the male he had known for so long, Evan wanted to kill him.

Vincent gave a soft smile, and that pain inside seemed to fade. Evan did not have that pain. There was no hate, or no strain. Evan loved the child, perhaps a lot easier than Vincent ever would. He looked back at his own bundle of joy. Yes, he would.

People would know. It would be hard to hide, with the way both children looked. He rocked the one in his hands, still thinking of a name. He would train the child well, and tell him all about his father.

Would… would the father ever come around to see his two boys?

Vincent looked at the new born again. Perhaps. However… The ‘father’ had not been present in their lives for at least nine months…

“Ian.”

Looking up, he glanced at the other male. Ian?

“I’ll name him Ian.”

He smiled. Evan simply accepted it, without question. With a small chuckle, Vincent looked at his own child, the child that was not his, but was, and kissed him on the forehead. “Asher.”

Evan smiled from across the room. Standing, the younger, light haired male moved over to where Vincent was and sat down next to him, holding his own child, but not his, up next to the brother. “Ian and Asher,” he spoke.

Vincent chuckled again. Yes, they were going to raise the children of a man who they both disliked greatly. A man who had loved, and owned both of the women they were now with. A man who they were greatly indebted to for pairing them with his girls. And a man who had given up the ones he loved so that Kira and Ashley could have a better life.

Vincent glanced at Evan. Had they really won the girls if they gave birth to his children? Evan gave a small smile.

There was only one explanation to what had happened. One sentence, two words: Brian Scarla.

Twins of Another Kind: The Last Time – Next