Fiona blinked up toward the ceiling, her breathing hard and ragged, a mixture of sweat and tears falling down her face. The hardest part was over.

Every soft, fabric-based item in the house had been shoved behind her, allowing her to sit as upright as possible - which wasn't very much - with as little effort as possible.

"Yer beautiful."

She closed her eyes as she allowed her mouth to curve into the smallest smile, in spite of everything; she would have laughed, had her lungs cooperated.

"Oh yes— I— I'm sure I am— stunningly gorgeous— right— right now." The killing blow of Fiona's sarcasm was diluted with the intermittent wheeze.

"Ye are."

Fiona felt her heart shoot up into her throat, which she had to swallow back into place. She raised her head slightly and half-opened her eyes to look at her husband, kneeling on the bed two feet in front of her. Shrek placed a very light hand on her knee. Even in the soft candlelight of the dark bedroom, his eyes pierced through to hers. They held too many emotions for Fiona to begin to identify; she supposed her own expression may have had the same quality.

"Shut up." Fiona placed her own hand atop his, kneading his fingers as she placed her head back and closed her eyes, and swallowed.

They sat in silence for what felt much longer than the handful of seconds it was, when Fiona suddenly sharply inhaled, quickly nodding back into her cushions. She let go of Shrek's hand as he withdrew it, subconsciously nodding along with her. She screamed behind gritted teeth, which eventually gave way to an open mouth, as she poured her last ounce of energy into the final push.

And then it was over.

She crumbled back into the pillows, her breath desperately trying to catch up with the rest of her. She looked back up toward the ceiling, her whole body reverberating.

And then she heard it.

The gurgle quickly broke into quick, loud cries that filled the small bedroom. Fiona choked out a sob as the pain dissipated from her body, the beautiful sound filling every inch of her. She opened her eyes, the wide smile on her face making her own weeping feel like laughing; she supposed it was, in a way.

Fiona lifted her head and saw her husband, transfixed on what was in his hands just out of view. A tiny arm and a tiny leg shot jerkily up, the wailing only having grown louder and stronger.

Shrek's head snapped up as Fiona stirred, and he flushed, as if suddenly remembering where he was.

"Righ' righ' ye probably, ah—" He gingerly placed the infant on Fiona's chest as he attempted to compose himself.

Her trembling hands immediately held the little ogre to her, little hands and feet firing at random, and the world seemed to stop just for her.

A baby.

Fiona let a fresh wave of tears overtake her as she joined in with her child's sobs.

Her baby.

"Hi, honey," she eked out, peering down onto the tiny head peppered with freckles, a few wispy curls stuck flat to it. She caught glimpses of half of a face, as a flailing little hand tried to block out the new brightness of candlelight.

"I know I— I know," she breathed shakily, "It's— it's bright out here— and cold probably," she chuckled in spite of herself as she held the baby closer to her, "but I've got you, Mama's got you—"

Fiona blinked, as the words she had just said registered in her mind; her smile widened as she nodded through another sob. "Yeah, Mama's got you."

She'd had a baby.

She closed her eyes and gently shushed the newborn who continued to wail into her, when a large sniffle caught her ear. Fiona raised her head to look at her husband, who she had almost forgotten was there in front of her. Shrek was gazing at her - at them - his eyes and nose uncorked, his shoulders raising and lowering in shudders. He was clearly just as surprised it was happening to him as she was, though he wasn't necessarily trying to stop it.

They had a baby.

She beamed at her puddle of a husband. "Contagious— isn't it?"

He chuckled at them, which was more of a choke, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Aye, well, the li'l booger started it." He smiled at his wife, and his eyes fell to the little ogre in her arms.

Fiona's gaze followed his. "Yeah, yeah the little…" she began to coo, before she stopped and blinked. "Wait what's— Shrek you didn't check the—"

"Wha— oh, ah—"

Fiona gently shifted the baby to lay in the crook of her arm, still held high against her chest, which elicited even stronger protests from the infant.

"I know, it's even brighter and colder like this, I'm sorry," she murmured in between shushes. Shrek suddenly realized he had a stack of towels beside him and hastily offered one to his wife, which she gladly accepted, having forgotten about them herself.

Fiona beamed down at the child, swallowing back another happy sob. "It's a boy."

Shrek chuckled past the hitch in his breath. "Yah, makes sense."

The infant blinked his eyes open at the change in position, and looked up at his mother. Fiona looked down in awe into a familiar pair of brown eyes, before his hands haphazardly jerked in front of his face to shield the light.

Shrek sniffed again as he held his hand to shade his son's eyes from the flickering candlelight, his other hand finding its way to his wife's shoulder.

Fiona placed the back of her pinky in the baby's open palm, and his fingers immediately closed around it as he began to settle. She and Shrek smiled up at each other as they looked down over him, and Fiona held his hand with her thumb. She brought him up closer to kiss him, when he decided to start wailing again, right into both of their faces.

"Oh my gosh," she exhaled in self-aware amusement, as she quickly raised her head back up, shushing him in vain. Shrek followed suit, just as impressed as he was surprised. "Already got his roar down 'n ev'rything."

The parents looked at each other with a knowing glint.

"Farkle?" Fiona offered, less of a suggestion and more of a confirmation.

Shrek nodded and chuckled his agreement. "Aye— tha's Farkle all righ'."

Shrek had placed the crib on the bed beside Fiona, so that she could comfortably let Farkle hold onto her pinky through the slats in the side. It seemed to be the only thing that kept him calm… well, as calm as he was able to be, which amounted to sucking one hand's thumb while trying to shield his eyes with the hand that held Fiona's finger, fussing periodically.

Fiona splayed and tensed her occupied hand, as an alternative to clenching it into a fist along with her other as she pushed through the contraction. She wasn't sure if it actually just wasn't getting any easier, or if it was because she was keeping herself from screaming.

She opened her eyes to the earth ceiling, then looked to her side at her son. She smiled and rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb, relishing in the distraction.

She turned her attention to her husband, and her small window of reprieve was slammed shut as she saw the concern on his face as he looked downward.

"What?" Fiona hoped he was just concentrating very intently.

Shrek's eyes flickered up to her, and he realized his unease was leading to her unease. He tried to lighten his expression, and chuckled dryly. "We got ourselves a, ah… shy lil' booger."

She allowed herself half a second to try to decipher his asinine statement. "...What?" She may have otherwise appreciated an attempt at humor, but she knew he wasn't being funny.

"He's ah… givin' me the two-cheek salute."

"...He?" Fiona exhaled, ignoring everything else.

Shrek half-smiled, in spite of himself. "Oh aye, yah, definitely a he."

Fiona let herself enjoy that news, before the reason of how he was able to know that became abundantly clear.

"So… then he's…" she gestured vaguely as to what she suspected.

"Yah, he's…" Shrek mimicked her hand motions.

Fiona brought her free hand down and around the back of her leg, just to be absolutely sure for herself. She exhaled in acknowledgement, a short chuckle minus any amusement. "Yeah… yeah that's… a little butt." Shrek echoed her mirthless laugh. They looked at each other a moment, unsure of what to do next.

"So…" Shrek offered, his eyes flicking down again and then back to his wife.

"Well, just… just let him, you know…" she made a couple more indicative gestures, "Don't—"

"Oh aye, aye, yah." He nodded quickly and earnestly, subconsciously leaning back as he spoke, and she nodded as well.

Fiona glanced over at Farkle, who was unfortunately nearly totally settled down, but not yet asleep. She rubbed his hand, and slipped her finger from his grasp. "I'm sorry Farkle baby, I'll be right back." She locked eyes with Shrek for the couple seconds to spare before nodding, and grabbed the back of her knees as she screamed in her throat, mouth closed. She took another breath midway and doubled her efforts, and couldn't help but scream out as she dug her head back into the cushions. She slowly deflated, spent, her lungs burning for more air than they could contain—

"Fi, C'MON!"

The urgent voice of her husband shocked her adrenaline into one last go she didn't know was in her. Her scream faltered into a sob as she pressed her fists against her forehead, until she was finally done.

Fiona sank into the trench she'd pressed into the pillows as the room spun around her. As the ringing in her ears diminished and her lungs fought against her ribcage, the singular thought occurred to her: she didn't hear anything.

That wasn't entirely true: she could hear Farkle begin to fuss next to her, she could hear her own heaving breaths, she could even hear the rustling of the tall grass in an evening breeze outside the bedroom window.

But she wasn't hearing what she should have been hearing.

She waited one agonizing, quiet second longer. She didn't want to open her eyes, but she had to, so did. She lifted her head and saw her husband, once again transfixed on something just below her eyeline, but his expression was all wrong. His eyes met hers, wide and scared, and quickly snapped back down. Her chest suddenly felt very heavy.

Why wasn't she hearing anything.

She willed herself up on one arm, to see what she specifically did not want to; and she did see, if only for a split-second, before her elbow buckled under her from a sudden, intense contraction. She couldn't talk, couldn't move, and could only scream uselessly in agony. She forced her eyes open and watched Shrek struggle out of view, watched his face slowly contort as his hands moved rapidly. Farkle was also full-blown crying again, wondering why his mother stopped holding his hand.

Fiona forced herself up again the second the contraction subsided, and what she saw would be burned in her memory: her second son, face-down over Shrek's fingers, not crying, not moving, while Shrek rubbed his back with the edge of his burlap sleeve. She felt herself scream her husband's name, but she didn't hear it; she couldn't hear her firstborn, or her husband, or the grass, or anything.

Shrek lifted the infant on his hand up between them both, still rubbing his sleeve against his back, his other sleeve on his chest, and tapped his back lightly with a single thumb as tears trickled from his eyes. Fiona felt the world screech to a halt, and spin out of control all at once as she looked on, frozen and screaming.

She should've listened to her mother she should've had someone in attendance someone to help if something happened if something went—

The world around her suddenly burst back into her ears as a tiny, wet cough finally sputtered from the little thing, and his limbs jerked to life. The splutter grew into cries, rapid and breathless, as he flailed and kicked on his father's giant hand.

Fiona and Shrek looked frantically from the baby up to each other, relief crashing upon them both in waves as they realized... they were okay. They were all okay. They both began falling apart again, this time in desperate gratitude. Shrek continued gently rubbing and tapping, and the crying grew louder, to both of their intense relief.

"Tha's my li'l man!" Shrek choked, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence as he placed the boy on Fiona's chest. He finally succumbed and sobbed into his sleeve.

Fiona sobbed down onto the baby's head, rubbing her own burlap sleeve against his back, feeling each rapid cry and gasp for breath against her own skin. "Hey— h-hey— hey—" she gasped frantically in between shushes, "You— you can't go— scaring Mama and— and Daddy— like that— y-you— alm— almost—" she barely choked out the last words before giving up on speaking, instead rocking him side to side, silently crying along.

Shrek turned back to them, sniffing hard as he roughly wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He looked down at the baby in Fiona's arms, then up at her in a semi-daze. She grabbed her husband's face with a free hand, gratitude and hysteria flowing from her tear ducts.

"How— how'd you— you know to—"

"I jus'— tha' book yer mum— it— it had—"

Fiona shook her head, unable to take in any more information, and muttered muddled thank you's into Shrek while the baby still wailed into her. She would rather have horrible nightmares every single night - hell, she'd rather be sent back to the tower - before she'd want to experience that ever again.

Shrek just held her into him, not quite yet able to let himself process what all exactly had just transpired.

Fiona separated from her husband, and looked down at the little boy. "Y-you made it," she cooed shakily, keeping herself from succumbing to another wave of sobs. "You're so— strong and— and brave, do you know that? Y-yes— yes you are…" she thumbed across his bald little head and kissed it, before very carefully shifting him to lay in the crook of her arm. Shrek grabbed a towel, and they both made sure he was okay in the new position before continuing to enjoy the moment.

"Keepin' me on my toes already there, li'l man," Shrek breathed unevenly through a trembling smile, and put the tip of his pinky in his palm. The baby opened his eyes, and Fiona observed the moment, before offering her husband the baby. Shrek looked at his wife in confusion - she needed to hold him, he'd already done so… technically. But she nodded, and after kissing him again, placed him in Shrek's arms.

Still unable to find his breath, Shrek held the impossibly tiny boy up closer to him, his pinky still securely held, and looked him in his sleepy brown eyes. "Hey— hey there, li'l man," Shrek murmured. "D'ye mind if I call ye tha'? It— it suits ye, if ye ask me." The little one yawned and started to suck his fingers, and Shrek chuckled lightly, enraptured. "Gave us a wee fright back there, ye did… but don't worry, we've got ye now, Mama's got ye, and—" his voice caught in his throat, which he swallowed back down to complete his thought, "—and Daddy's got ye." Hearing the name - coming from his own mouth, no less - was... something else.

"I know, your brother needed a— a little help, I'm sorry, shhhh…" Shrek raised his eyes to see Fiona rocking a fussy Farkle, held up close to her, her finger firmly occupied once again. He smiled proudly at the pair, which Fiona seemed to sense, as she looked up and returned the smile. He then looked back at the new addition he held, who looked back and held him just as tight.

"Ye wanna meet yer big brother there... Fergus?" Shrek looked at his wife, to check her approval of the name. Fiona's lips parted and her eyes widened, which immediately closed as she nodded, tears falling down her smiling face.

"He's fine, Fi," Shrek reassured his wife, who hadn't taken her eyes off Fergus in the crib next to his brother, even through the contraction that had just passed. Shrek took the opportunity to covertly look in his direction himself.

It didn't help that he seemed to be naturally less high-strung than Farkle, who was still very much protesting the whole being-born thing. The rapid rise and fall of Fergus's tiny chest, and the rhythmic sucking sound of his fingers were luckily substantial assurances; still, it didn't keep both parents from stealing frequent glances in his direction.

For all the trouble the expertly-timed contraction caused during the earlier hysteria, baby number three now seemed perfectly content to take their sweet time. It had been several minutes between contractions, which weren't even particularly eventful.

Fiona held her hand out over both babies, to let them hold or suck on whichever of her fingers they wanted; when her hand got tired, Shrek would take over, as they had done a couple times already.

"There are three, yah?" Shrek asked cheekily, having sat on the side of the bed next to the crib many minutes ago. He let his hand rest comfortably on Fiona's knee.

Fiona raised her head slightly, opening her eyes a sliver. "Oh, there's a third, all right." Her smile was so microscopic, that it was only the small puff of air that escaped her nose that let Shrek know she wasn't shooting daggers at him with her reply… not many daggers, at least.

"Jus' checkin', is all," he responded with faux innocence, his thumb subconsciously rubbing her knee.

The only thing Fiona really wanted at that point was a crying, moving baby. Not much to ask, one would think, but... apparently not.

She shook out her baby-finger arm, it finally getting fatigued from the odd angle she held it at. Shrek extended his arm over the crib in its place, and positioned a finger easily accessible for both boys. After a moment, however, Shrek looked at Fiona, and instead gently picked up Farkle, and held him close while offering a finger. Farkle unsuccessfully attempted to put his father's giant pinky in his mouth, to which he let go and settled on his own thumb, much to his parents' amusement. He was, nevertheless, upset by the results, as he had let go of the giant pinky.

Fiona gazed at the pair, before shifting her focus to Fergus, and brushed a finger down his cheek. He cooed approvingly, and turned his head into her touch. Her heart fluttered, and yet she couldn't help but smirk at the stark difference between their two sons already.

"Well… if this little stinker wants to take their time," Fiona exhaled as she moved to sit more upright, "maybe we can get some more time in with—"

Her thought was cut short as she was greeted with a contraction intense enough to make up for the previous chunk of time, and then some. Fiona groaned, which quickly grew into a scream.

Shrek's head snapped around to her, his eyes widening. "Whoa - I think they heard ye!" He gently placed Farkle back down next to Fergus, and climbed back on the bed to retake his position.

Not five seconds after the first one subsided, another started up, even bigger than its predecessor. Fiona indicated to her husband it wasn't letting up anything soon with a fervent nod in between, to which he raised an eyebrow, both in concern as well as shock. A third followed suit.

"Oh godmother…" Fiona whimpered, turning her face into her cushion pile - away from the babies - as she screamed in full voice into the sound-dampening pillows.

"Well we've got a head, so tha's— wh-whoa, Fi! Slown down!"

"Do not tell me to slow down!"

"Alrigh' fine, don' slow down, jus'— criminy are ye—"

"Stop yelling at me!"

"I'm not yellin' atcha I'm— encouragin' ye!"

"WELL IT FEELS LIKE YOU'RE YELLING!"

"Yer the one yellin'!"

"OF COURSE I'M YELLING I'M-" Fiona stopped arguing for no reason with her husband, and grasped in the air with her free hand, the other crushing the fistful of the temporary straw mattress topper to dust. Shrek took the flailing hand in his, and watched her in awe as she squeezed the life out of it.

Shrek slipped his hand out at the very last minute, and Fiona collapsed into her cushions, sobbing and stunned. She wasn't granted a very long rest, as she was nearly instantly greeted with the beautiful sound of a shrill, impassioned newborn cry in front of her. She not only heard her own sobs, and the baby's, but also her husband's… laughter? She couldn't help but join in, though how much was crying and how much was laughter was debatable. "W-What's so funny, hon?"

Shrek chuckled as he wiped his nose on his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the latest arrival in his hands.

"Whatta little diva, can't let'er brothers have a morsel attention more than'er."

Fiona stopped mid-sweep of her hair from her face, when she looked her husband in the eye, processing his full sentence.

"...Is… is it—" Fiona's voice faltered as she attempted to push herself slightly more upright again, while watching Shrek lift the newborn up toward her.

"Aye," he exhaled, nodding as he laid the baby girl on her mother's chest, the last time he would do so. Fiona didn't take her eyes from his until the baby was in her arms, when they went down onto the child. Shrek offered a towel and helped place it over the two, then sat back on his heels and watched the scene unfold in front of him, the one he knew Fiona had been waiting a very long time for.

The baby girl wailed into her mother, and all Fiona could do was hold her tight to her and cry. She warmed up and dried off the baby with the towel, and shushed down onto her wispy-haired head.

"Hi, Felicia," Fiona choked. She said the name before she knew what was happening, and looked up at her husband. He nodded, a broad smile already spread wide across his face, as he brushed his thumb down the chubby little arm that had poked out of the towel. He looked up at his astounding, stunningly gorgeous wife, and brushed her bangs out of her eyes, knowing they would fall again when she looked down at their daughter. But that was okay. He would brush them away again.

Fiona lowered her head and kissed Felicia's cheek, as she began to settle. "Was— was all that really necessary?" She chuckled to herself, and then looked up at her husband, who apologetically joined in. She shifted the baby into the crook of her arm, adjusting the towel away from her face, and the little girl slowly blinked her eyes open. Fiona audibly gasped as she saw her crystal blue eyes, and Shrek had to will himself to keep composed as he did, as well.

Fiona looked to the side to Farkle and Fergus, and then back down to Felicia. They were all here. Safe. Healthy. Finally.

She looked to her husband, who realized what she wanted. He gently picked up each boy, and placed them on either side of their sister, and repositioned the towel. Fiona wrapped her arms around her three children, not especially sure how she'd gotten there, but not daring to question it.

"So… how's it feel?"

She raised her head at the voice, and found Shrek gazing at them all again, new tears having won the battle.

Fiona looked at him with a slightly puzzled look in her eyes, not sure precisely what the "it" was that he referred to. He attempted to clarify, by gesturing at the children, and the arms that held them. And all at once, she knew, and she could've smacked him right there, had she a free hand, for making her cry again when she was definitely almost done doing that for now. She looked up to the ceiling, hoping to keep any new water in her eyes.

"Really good," she choked, and began to chuckle, which didn't help her contain herself. She looked back at her husband, and gravity insisted new tears roll down her face.

"Aye, I thought s'much." Shrek smirked, hoping a moderately sarcastic gesture would help curb his own impulse, though not entirely effectively. He leaned forward and they kissed softly. They looked at each other a moment longer, as life as they knew it would be changed forever.

"...You know," Fiona offered, "we should really diaper them up right now, before we forget. We don't want—"

"Ooh, yah. Good call."

***UPDATE - ComicNinja409 has done an AMAZING comic adaptation of this chapter! Go search their username on DeviantArt to find it (I would link it here but FFN is weird about URLS, and also be sure to start on page 1). It is INCREDIBLE. All the visuals and imagery that I had in mind while writing it are translated so perfectly! PLEASE go check it out!Fiona gets shafted as being their mother in the films - they only ever say Daddy. SHE has to say Mama in Scared Shrekless. Like… what the fuck Dreamworks.***

This is a major overhaul of the original first chapter of this collection. I'm much happier with this version, as it, you know, addresses ALL THREE kids, and you know, BOTH parents. A good opening to a fic collection about, you know, THE KIDS.

I KNOW newborns don't have their permanent eye color at birth. They're oGrEs

Thanks for reading, leave a review! Not many do, and they are much appreciated. As always, big thanks to hanny spoon for helping me work out ideas etc. AND a big thanks to the original inspiration for this story, the artwork "Mother's Day" on DeviantArt by ComicNina409.