Epilogue.

Rachel rested her cheek against the cold glass of the backseat window; all the other windows open as her driver carried her trough the highway, fast to her home. Headache days were still awful after all these years, but combined with filming an episode for a TV series, they were terrible. She closed her eyes, imagining her warm, soft bed, fluffy pillows, awaiting wife and…

"We're here, Rachel." The car had stopped and the breeze gone.

"Thank you so much, Michael." Rachel said tiredly, resting a hand on her driver's shoulder. "I'll see you next week."

"No play tomorrow?"

"No, these are my couple of days off for the month."

"Alright then, see you on Monday?"

"Yes, Monday. Have a good weekend, Michael. Say hi to Nora for me."

"Will do." He waited until Rachel was inside the gate safely to drive away.

Rachel walked through the front garden, pausing after three steps to take off her heels and walk barefoot the remaining distance. It was late, surely everyone was asleep, and all she wanted to do was hide under the covers. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the smell of the flowers and the acres of trees around her house before opening the door, being immediately crushed by one pajama-clad beauty on each leg.

"What are you doing up?" She gasped as the two boys squeezed her.

"Mama's on bed, we was snuggling with 'er."

"You were? And where's your sister?"

"Still on bed with Mama."

"Oh, I see." Rachel smiled down at her three year old boys, picking Harry up and grabbing Tommy's hand.

They went slowly down the corridor together, both talking quietly with her because they knew that when their moms felt ill, they often felt ill together. They were two good, considered little gentlemen. Rachel put Harry down and opened the door gently to find her wife and seven year old daughter Priscilla snuggled under the covers, their blonde hair peeking out. Harry and Tommy ran towards the bed and climbed as best as they could on the other side of their Mama, earning a groan from her.

Rachel smiled, moving to her walk in closet and closing the door quietly, discarding her clothes on a hamper and putting her pajamas on. When she approached the bed, she found everyone pressed together, making room for her. Quinn smiled gently at her, one hand tangled on her sleeping daughter's hair. Rachel felt her heart pounding joyously inside her chest, like every time she looked into those hazel eyes.

"Hi." She whispered, awestruck.

"Hi." Quinn grinned foolishly, opening the covers for Rachel to climb in.

Once under the sheets and blankets, the brunette placed one kiss on her daughter's cheek and, leaning on her elbow against the mattress, spent a good minute kissing her wife hello.

"Strong headaches?" She breathed out once she got comfortable.

"Just normal." Quinn shrugged, reaching back absentmindedly to pull the covers high over their sons' bodies. "They missed you today; they were talking all afternoon about you, listening to your CD."

"They're spoiled." Rachel grinned.

"You're their favorite." Quinn retorted, faking jealousy.

Rachel laughed quietly; it was often what Quinn said about their sons, having been Rachel the one that met them and their mother on Liberia, on a Red Cross mission to take medical supplies two and a half years ago. Their mother Kia was dying from AIDS related diseases even before giving birth to them, and Rachel decided to adopt them when Kia died three days after her arrival. The babies' names were given by the nurses that took care of them and gave them their medicine every day since they were born. They hadn't been able to prevent them from being born with the virus, but today's medicine made it almost impossible for them to get sick because of it. Quinn had flew to meet them and travel back with them and Rachel two weeks later, and of course, their sons didn't remember any of that and were too young to understand, so it was impossible for Rachel to be their favorite just because of that.

They had found, two years after being in New York, that even if they were able to have children, which they were, it would be impossible for them to carry babies if their bodies transformed every month. Quinn had been devastated because, after giving away her first baby, she wouldn't be able to have another, but they soon realized that adopted children could be just as theirs as biological ones; Rachel was adopted and Quinn's baby was adopted, they already had proven how strong that bond could be. Priscilla was adopted three years after they were married; she was three and lived in foster care since she was born, and they had fallen in love with her as soon as they met.

Their family was perfect, in Rachel's not-so-humble opinion. They were everything she could ask for, healthy, beautiful and loving.

"Where did you go?" Quinn whispered, cupping her wife's cheek.

"I was just… thinking about our babies."

"Are you worried?" Quinn frowned. "Because the doctor said their viral load was undetectable, just –"

"Sh, Quinn, I'm fine." Rachel smiled gently, running her thumb along her wife's frown and smoothing it. "I know they're okay, I was just thinking about that. About how healthy and happy they are."

"Okay." Quinn breathed out, hugging their daughter lightly when she stirred in her sleep. "I have to go to the Catskill Forest Preserve in a couple of days, perhaps I'll take them. Have them meet the new cubs, have fresh air…"

"Fresh air? Baby, they have fresh air just walking out of the house." Rachel smiled. "But I think they'll love to go."

"Okay." Quinn smiled softly, squeezing Rachel's hand on her own resting on their daughter's torso.

"Want some Advil?" Rachel asked, watching the dark shadows under Quinn's eye.

She shook her head.

"I want to cuddle with you." Quinn whispered. "Let's take the kids to their beds?"

Rachel nodded, getting slowly out of bed and easily picking up her daughter. Priscilla immediately wrapped her arms and legs sleepily around her Mom and rested her head on her shoulder. Rachel carried her to her room next door and tucked her in, coming back to find Quinn with Harry on her arms, hiding her face on his thick, curly short hair.

"He smells so sweet." She smiled at Rachel when she caught her staring.

"They still smell like babies." Rachel whispered back, gently picking Tommy up and cradling him against her chest.

They tucked them in, pausing in the doorway to watch them sleep peacefully.

Quinn took Rachel's hand, entwining their fingers, and they turned to walk to their room. Once in bed, they snuggled right in the middle, under the covers, like every month for the past thirteen years. Their path had been rough at first, first being bitten and then taking almost two years to dominate their condition, to be brave enough to be together, finding a place to be as wolfs in New York and then finding a home to spend the full moon nights in peace. Being a werewolf and living in the city was hard, spending years sneaking into the New York Forest Preserve; suffering a week-long of headaches during college was terrible, finding a play that let Rachel have days off every month was almost impossible, and raising children was hard even without the werewolf part… But they had found that nothing was impossible or too terrible if they were together. Even with mistakes and fights, with the time that took them to find out they didn't have to hunt anymore, that repressing their feelings was what made them suffer those dreadful headaches all those years ago; with the heartbreaking knowledge that they could never carry children… the most frightening or distressing things weren't so terrible, so hard to face, if they were together.

And with the knowledge that they would never be apart, that they were soulmates or wolf mates or simply supernaturally in love, or plainly in love… the hardest things were easy, and the easy things enjoyable. Their love was big and their love for their children enormous… they were a family. And whether it was continents apart, countries apart, rooms apart or a tangled mess of arms and legs under the covers on a headaches week, Rachel and Quinn were, and always would be, unbreakable.