This time, when she sobs, he's not as tense, not as worried. The weight of the revelation has done all it would—all it could, and all it's managed was to strengthen his decision to remain. First, with her, the woman who had the world at the very tips of her gasp and yet still chose to have him closer. The significance of Raisa carrying his pups wasn't lost on him, he'd learned enough medicine to grasp the toll it'd take, the risk it brought and no amount of care could prevent if the tides of nature shifted against them. If she was to bear the brunt of their decision, he would be there. At her side. At her beck and call. Raisa needed him and he'd allow no room for doubt to take root. He never wanted her to doubt his place at her side, he'd spend this lifetime giving her every reason she didn't have to worry.

Second, with them.

Bogart could conceptualize children, he just struggled with the thought of them being his. Hers, now? Easy. Little curl-tailed spitfires graced with their mama's dark hues and the choicest splashes of off-white? All sunset-eyed? Not seeing them come into the world felt a crime he'd never escape the sentence of. He wanted them to look at him and see a dad, not their donor who spit loose advice between visits that had nothing to do with them. He wanted them to know he was their first line of defense. He needed them to know that even in his fright, there was never a moment where he didn't want them.

Raisa melted into him so exhaustedly, of which he could only blame this doubt-driven flight for. "Shh," he hushed against her neck as she pulled him close. He lifted a single forelimb to her back just to hold her steady. "Ain't nothin' to apologize for, doubtin' happens, always will. S'my job to make sure it don't get no bigger than the both of us."

As she eased, he finally allowed himself to kiss at her face. Soft, fluttering little touches. "Show me, aye?"he told her, voice hushed. "It's a date then."

Because he knew she needed something beyind this to hold onto—just as he did.

A big family of my own.

Aye, he could make that happen. Whatever she wanted, he'd deliver. With her at his chest, Bogart lowered his head to the top of hers with a hum. "Then that's what you'll get," he told her, hauling her close. "A family all our own, ain't that something?" A moment's pause, breaths stolen and shared. He glanced sideways at her, right where her ribcage sloped into her stomach, and he whined. Chuffed. "I hope the lot of 'em take after you."