Executioner – Chapter Thirty

NOT EDITED

Chapter Thirty

Friday: March 6, 2026
2:19 AM; CLINSTONE SPECIALITY HOSPITAL, RECOVERY ROOM TWO

Jensen opened his eyes, his brow furrowed as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room. Where was Bo? Jensen leaned over and grabbed his phone, finding a sticky note on the screen. He pulled it off, turning on his screen and tilting the light toward the sticky note.

Couldn’t sleep, went to the gym.

Love you, Eli

Jensen lifted his gaze to Cecilia sleeping form before quietly rising to his feet. He loved Cecilia, but he knew she was safe. At two in the morning, he definitely needed to check on his husband.

2:30 AM; CLINSTONE FITNESS GYM

Bo swung his fist into the punching bag for what felt like the hundredth time that morning before he caught sight of Jensen sitting on the bench to his left. With shaky hands, Bo pulled his earphones from his ears, draping them around his neck. “How long have you been there?”

“Couple minutes,” Jensen said quietly. “How long have you been here?”

“Hour and a half.” Bo sat down beside Jensen on the bench, dropping his hands to his lap. “I’m scared, Jens.”

“Me, too.” Jensen leaned to the side, resting his head on Bo’s shoulder. “He’s gonna be okay,” he said, his voice strong. “If we love him, he’ll be strong, and he’ll be okay.”

“That’s the hope.”

“I’m sorry, Eli. About… about all of this.”

“It’s not your fault, love,” Bo murmured.

“I know. I just…”

“You just feel bad because he’s biologically mine.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’ll be okay.” Bo sniffled, resting a wrapped hand on Jensen’s thigh. “The first few weeks will be hell. Preemies usually can’t be touched a lot. It can hurt them more than it can help them, so you have to be careful and really slow about it. But after that, things will get easier and… and it’ll be okay. We just have to give it time.”

Jensen nodded. “What’s your plan now?”

“Take a shower and… go to the station, maybe. Might as well make progress on the case if I can’t sleep,” Bo said.

“You want me to come with?”

“Which part?”

One corner of Jensen’s mouth lifted as he closed his eyes. “Both,” he decided.

Bo chuckled. “I need to stretch first, then shower. Although I didn’t bring extra clothes with me. They’re in my locker at the station.”

“You go ahead and stretch, then we’ll go to the station for showers. Then I’ll just, you know, creep on you in the lab.”

“Sounds good, love.” Bo pressed a kiss to Jensen’s temple as the younger man leaned away from him. “Later on today, I’ll call my mom and ask her if she can have Kayla and Amber decide on a middle name for Castor. We should fill out his birth certificate.” Jensen nodded. “We, uh, we could go get our driver’s licenses today. The more we keep ourselves busy, the more normal all of this’ll seem. It’s like taking care of Noah and Eve all over again. Just, you know, only one of them.”

“Okay,” Jensen murmured. He kissed Bo’s shoulder. “You stretch. I’ll be in the car.”

3:39 AM; CLINSTONE POLICE DEPARTMENT, LAB

Bo pushed the needle into the pig liver and pressed down on the plunger. He leaned back, setting the needle in the tray beside the liver. He let out a soft sigh, pulling off his gloves and tossing them into the garbage. “If this doesn’t work on a dead liver, I know what we’re going to do. I won’t torture an animal just because I can,” he said quietly. “For science or otherwise, I can’t bring myself to do that.”

“If this doesn’t work, we’ll try and figure out a timeline without it,” Jensen said. Lightly, he squeezed the back of Bo’s neck. “We’ll get there one way or another.”

“Hopefully.” Bo turned his head to look at Jensen, raising an eyebrow. “Pollux has to have a normal middle name.”

“Why’s that?”

“Castor has an easy nickname. Cas. It’s not weird. But Pollux doesn’t have an easy one, so his middle name has to be normal.”

“You could call him Paul.”

“I love you, but I’m not calling our infant child Paul,” Bo said.

Jensen chuckled softly. “My bad.” He lifted his shoulders. “I’ll make sure to tell Amber and Kayla that it has to be normal.” He smiled. “But I’ll make sure they know to have a hay day with Castor’s middle name.”

Bo rolled his eyes. “Hey, you do whatever you have to do.” He raked a hand through his hair, closing his eyes. “Our twins are going to have different birthdays.”

“Crazy, huh?”

“Indeed.” The blonde forced his eyes open again, his gaze falling to the liver before him. “He’s going to survive.”

“He will,” Jensen agreed.

“But that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy,” Bo said again.

“I know.”

“He could grow up with developmental issues.”

“We’ll deal with it when we get there.”

“What if we can’t?” Bo asked. “I’m… I’m going to be replacing Jamal, Jens. I won’t be able to take care of a special needs child, not in the way a parent should be able to, anyway.”

Jensen frowned. “I’d be there for him, and you’d be there ninety-eight percent of the time. You know just as well as I do that you’ll still put family first.”

“Yeah,” Bo whispered.

“You’re worrying too much again.” Jensen pressed two fingers to Bo’s temple. “You’re trapped in here again. You’re thinking of the bad shit, or the possibility of bad shit. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, I know, baby.” Jensen yawned. “I think I’m gonna go upstairs and start a pot of coffee. Want me to make enough for you?”

“Yes, please.”

Jensen nodded, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll be back in a few, Eli,” he said softly, squeezing Bo’s shoulder.

The blonde simply patted his hand before watching him leave the room. “Castor will be okay,” Bo murmured. “You just have to be positive for once in your life. He’s your son,” he said. “Be strong for him… even if it hurts.”


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