This is another oneshot in the same universe as the latest oneshot before this- the liar Alyssa. Also this one is based on a song, and this one by Butterfly Kisses by Bob Carlisle. This one is split into scenarios during some years. In the latest you found out Summer was pregnant, and after three boys they were having a girl… as for the rest you'll just have to read it but… This one is told from Seth's point of view.

Ten little fingers

Ten little toes

A thatch of dark hair

Dark eyes

49 centimeters

2,9 kiloes.

She was absolutely perfect.

That was for me and Summer, so I couldn't know why when the first time I was alone with her tears came rolling from my eyes, as they dripped down my cheek to my chin and down on my shirt and the little pink blanket she was wrapped in they just streamed faster and faster.

"Hello son."

Dad had been away for work for the weekend and hadn't had the chance to come earlier today, when her brothers, her aunt and uncle, cousins and grandparents had visited after she came, three weeks too early with a rush.

"Oh… dad." I wiped all the tears I could with the hand that wasn't holding onto my daughter's fragile body. "Meet your new granddaughter! Stella Marissa Cohen."

There was no use, dad had already seen me crying.

Of course, I'd been crying and God knows everything when each of the boys were born but it wasn't like this.

"Here." Dad took Stella from my arms and carefully laid her in a cot I had carried her out in the lounge in. But with nothing to hold onto and seeing my dad make Stella comfortable where she laid I suddenly started shaking from head to toe. "Now, talk to me. What's wrong?"

The silent tears went into wild sobbing, before I knew anything else dad had wrapped his arms around me, while I buried my face into his shoulder and he laid one hand towards my hair and the other on my back I cried even worse.

"It's okay son." Dad said softly. "It's okay. You're okay."

And boy did I hate myself for reacting like this.

"I love her so much."

"I know you do." At last, when the sobbing had turned into a feeling of emptiness I let go of dad and sunk back into the arm chair while he pulled one chair to sit right in front of me and frowned. "But there's more than that for this. And Kirsten sounded distressed when I spo…"

"Stella has Down's syndrome dad."

It just felt like the easiest way to do this to just interrupt him and didn't take any way around it. Dad on the other hand seemed taken aback and raised an eyebrow.

None of us had seen this coming. How could we have?

When she started moaning and moving I reached down again and lifted her up, suddenly those dark, almond- shaped eyes opening and looking right up on me. Before closing again and she fell asleep again while I drew a relieved breath.

"It's just…. She's perfect in every way. And we all- I and Summer and the boys and everybody else wants her just like she is. But still… I don't know how to explain things. It was just such a chock when the nurse grabbed her and then ran out of the room. Only to come back and say why our perfect girl wasn't as perfect anymore… I can't believe I just said that."

Dad rubbed my back, but for me there were no tears left to cry.

"You do know what Down's syndrome is don't you son?"

"Yeah. One extra chromosome."

"Exactly, and now if all of us are made by those chromosomes. Shouldn't an extra one make her just an extra little piece of perfect." I couldn't help but smile. "Just an extra little piece to love?"

I had never really seen Down's syndrome like that before.

Didn't my dad always have the best things to say.

"Do you know what Stella means son? Did you look it up?"

"Star?"

"Yes. But also there's a butterfly called Stella… Stella orange… whatever. Just give me one moment." He pulled up his phone and quickly googled. "Stella orangetip. Look." He showed me a picture just as Stella started screaming. "But if I may say it myself, she makes a whole lot more noise than a butterfly. Here," He carefully lifted her from her cot. "Come to grandpa. Sch, sch, sch." He rocked her towards his shoulder but she screamed only louder. "You need a change of that diaper, don't you?" I started standing up. "I'll sort it out. You get some rest."

I leaned back again, Stella's screams not reaching my ears when dad found the door with our name on it and walked in the sound didn't reach my ears anymore.

Butterfly?

"Here we go." Dad soon came back, by then I jumped awake after my eyes had just fallen closed. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just going to say that it feels like only yesterday I was changing your diapers. And in another thirty years or so, when Stella is your age and you're mine. This will feel like yesterday to you. And then, you just won't understand how you got through all those sleepless nights, changing diapers and feeding."

"I know that dad." I had to yawn. "We've already had our fair share with the boys. Remember those too?"

"Boys?" Dad questioned ironically. "What boys do you mean? And how many boys are we talking about? Five? Eight? Ten?"

"Three."

"Oh, you mean those boys."

I couldn't help but yawn. During the past nine months both I and Summer had been woken up by her morning sickness. And before then it hadn't been long since Silas had started sleeping through the night. Not long after Sawyer had started sleeping through the night, while Sullivan still didn't because he had such stomachaches.

"You call it a night. I'll take the night shift for this one."

"But it's her first night…"

"Followed by Gosh knows how many. And you're okay with grandpa aren't you?" Stella hm'd as answer. "Yeah, that's how you say it- grandpa."

"Nuh- uh. She just said dad. Didn't you Stella?" She hm'd again and while I called her my special pet name for the first time I felt my eyes falling closed.

And just as I did one scenario after the other filled my mind and showed on the back of my eyelids. Whatever life would be like with bullying and special classes, not growing up fully, ever. And maybe not understanding…

Before I closed my eyes at last the vision was dad holding onto his grandchild- my daughter. And I made a promise to myself and to her that I was going to protect her and teach her for everything there had to be.

"Anything for you my precious butterfly."

XxXxX

"…HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR STELLA. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU."

The January afternoon that was our dearest Stella's eight birthday was filled with nothing else than laughter for starters, we had had a party with her closest friends in the playing center last weekend. Now there was "only" I and Summer's families there and Stella had looked forward to this moment since last year. And now finally bringing in the cake Stella had made into a whole mess of sprinklers, chocolate sauce and whipped cream was carried in with eight lit candles.

I had promised to help her blow out the candles- with not being able to put her tongue back in her mouth blowing hard was a mission impossible. So while I blew out most of them Stella was the proudest when she blew out two.

"All of them at once." Mum turned the lamps in the room on when the candles were blown out and I hugged my daughter tight. "Close your eyes and make a wish."

"You too daddy. You blew too."

I closed my eyes and wished too- but the thing was I already had my wish right here, right now with my whole family gathered, healthy and happy I didn't need or want anything else.

I was pretty sure what Stella had wished for though. She had wished for the same thing since she was four and a classmate of hers had gone horse riding in special lessons for the disabled.

"Okay then." I didn't remove my arm from around her shoulders, Sullivan having the same from her other side. "Open your eyes and we can taste the cake."

"Don't you want to know what I wished for?"

"Nuh- uh. Don't speak it out loud. Or it might not come true."

Stella smirked and laughed, then held her paper- plate forward when Ryan had taken a cake and looked around it to try and find a piece that could be cut.

"I know the cake looks funny. But I promise I tried."

"I bet the good thing is that none of us can ever say we have seen a cake like this before." Allison laughed. "It's great. And the most important part is how it tastes. Then it doesn't matter what it looks like."

I blinked at my brother's twin daughter. She was right but not many people in their mid- teens would care to even say that.

"Okay." When everyone had a piece of the cake on their paper plates and each spoon in their hands Stella counted down. "Three, two, one, now."

The first one to turn absolutely red as a tomato in the face was William. And so they all did soon after, Sophie Rose got up and ran out of the room towards the toilet, and several of the people around me spit their cake out on the plate.

I thought I would wait a moment with tasting it to see the other's reactions.

"Here." I took up the paper plate and held it in front of Stella's chin. "Spit." She more gagged than spat but I too had to take a bite of the cake to know what they were reacting to.

I couldn't blame Sophie Rose for throwing up or the boys for spitting it out!

What on earth was in this cake?

Sophie Rose came back pale as a sheet and dad's hand on her shoulder. She had trouble with eating anything that didn't taste great after a food poisoning when she was little so I could hardly imagine what this disgusting cake must have done to her.

"I.. I…" Stella's bottom lip was trembling. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Butterfly? What exactly did you put into this cake while I went to get Silas from his football practice?" She shrugged. "I'd put out everything you could use on the table but this isn't any of that."

"I just wanted some cinnamon. Because I tasted cinnamon rolls and they were really good and I thought I'd make it really good. But I promise you I didn't want for this to happen."

"Of course you didn't… Can you go back to the cupboard and get the cinnamon and take it back here." Stella nodded sadly but did as she was told and soon came back with a small can in her hand that she handed to the first, best person inside the door- grandma.

"This isn't cinnamon darling. It's paprika. But look! Silas loved it!" Just like she had commented on our youngest son sat shoving pieces of the cake into his mouth. Stella still didn't seem happy and ran over to me and buried her face in my shirt before she started sobbing.

"That's okay Butterfly." I rubbed her back. "It's just a cake."

"No it's not." She looked back and up on me with her face swollen and wet by tears. "You all tasted and hated it. And I made aunt Sophie sick. And Silas would eat garbage if you let him- you said so yourself."

"I can?"

"No!" It was true I had said so. And it did have a point. But that guy could eat more than anyone else I had seen and now we all gave him the cake. "See?"

"It really doesn't matter Stella." Sophie Rose said with a pale smile. "You know what I'm like with eating. And that certainly isn't your fault."

Stella just started sobbing again and turned back into my shirt. I ran a hand through my hair and tried to think of something.

"I just wanted to make something that you would like."

"You can make it another day." I rubbed her back but she just cried more. "You can Butterfly, and today we have presents and cookies."

"But another day won't be my birthday."

I couldn't argue with that!

"Tell you what Stella." Allison thought about something that I didn't obviously. "It's my and Will's birthday already next week. Then you can make a cake for us. And we're two so that's so cool. I bet no one else of your friends has done that." At last Stella looked away from my shirt and sniveled another time.

"I can do that?"

"Yes of course. I can never make a cake as good as yours. Can you William?"

"No way." Will shook his head. "I'm terrible with any cookies. Any cake I made would end up even worse than this. Way worse!"

I mimed a thank you to the twins. Stella wiped her tears and snot on my shirt and I then lifted her onto my lap and reached for one wrapped present on the table and held it to her.

"Time for presents. Here, open the one from me and mum first."

She took it and unwrapped it with pulling off big parts of paper and tape and dropped them on the floor.

"A pair of gloves."

I couldn't blame the look on her face. What spoiled eight year old would be happy about a pair of gloves?

"Yeah, but they're a special kind of gloves. Can you see what?"

Stella twisted and turned them and had a frown on her face, then shook her head.

"They're horse riding gloves."

Stella didn't look as if she understood for a few seconds, and I thought I'd have to explain it when she suddenly gasped and her eyes lit up.

"I can go horse riding?" I nodded. "THANK YOU DADDY."

She hugged me tight and then slid down from my lap to go hug her mum.

The last four years when she had longed for just this for every birthday and Christmas had been filled with asthma attacks, heart surgery, possible allergies and ballet lessons. At last now when all doctors had given us all clears and she had chosen riding in front of dancing there wasn't a reason not to give her what she wanted.

"Daddy." She suddenly looked nervous and whispered to me. "During my first ride, will you walk beside the pony and make sure it doesn't run off?"

I forced away a grimace. If there was anything I wasn't a fan of it was horses.

"Anything for you my precious butterfly."

XxXxX

"There." I tucker her in, in her bed one night. At sixteen, maybe she should have grown out of it- disabled or not. "I love doing this every night. I'll never stop this, even if you want."

"I want."

"What?"

"It's just that… I'm sixteen now daddy. I'm almost an adult. And I don't need you to tuck me in every night, and besides. I have Wally." She hugged her teddy bear tight. "Will you remember that and every night forever and ever?"

"Yes." I ignored my heart breaking. "I'll remember that." When I leaned over to kiss her cheek and she kissed mine I couldn't help but to feel a lump rise in my throat. My baby. "Goodnight Butterfly. And Wally too."

"Goodnight daddy."

I tip- toed out of the room leaving her horse nightlight on. Hopefully she wouldn't mind about that one.

"Daddy? Can you turn Captain Oats Junior off too on your way out?"

My poor, poor daddy- heart.

"What's up with you?" Summer asked when I came out into the living room. "You look like you've got all world's problems on your shoulders."

"My baby girl…" I looked back on Summer who looked worried. "She doesn't want me tucking her in at night anymore. And she don't want Captain Oats Junior on neither."

Summer looked sadly back towards me, but wasn't as close to Stella as I was so even though it felt sad for heart it didn't feel as heartbreaking as it did for me.

"Do you remember when she was born?" Summer asked. "We were both so heartbroken by having a child with Down's syndrome."

"And yet we loved her so much." I continued. "I wouldn't want her any other way. I didn't then neither but it was just such a chock." Both I and Summer silent and looked towards the TV. I didn't know about Summer but I didn't see anything in front of me for that whole night. Everything on the insides of my eyelids were memories from the past sixteen years.

Leaving her for her first heart surgery, in my arms screaming and kicking while the nurse had to put a mask over her face, losing her first tooth, the "boyfriend" she had had in Oliver in kindergarten, playing with dolls and plastic horses, her first riding lesson when I shakily walked next to her. Dresses and haircuts and toys and hairbows…

I had never really been into or worked with anything else than writing on different comics. Most nights I tried to keep a normal day- and- night- rhythm. But while our two oldest boys had moved away, and the youngest boy was on his way it was harder when I didn't have to worry about waking them up.

That night I barely reacted to Summer kissing me goodnight and stayed on the couch, it wasn't until after midnight I went to bed. And only barely had the time to lie down and close my eyes before there was a voice.

"Daddy?"

I looked up and found Stella standing by my bed. Hugging her teddy bear tight and with tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong Butterfly?" I raised up on one elbow. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"No." A tear rolled down her cheek. "But I don't want you to stop tucking me in at night. So please don't stop that."

Phew…

"I promise I won't."

"Will you remember that? Every night forever and ever?"

"Yes."

"Pinky swear?"

I reached and hooked my pinky around hers.

"And without Captain Oats Junior it was so dark… Can I sleep here with you tonight?"

I had seen the question coming so I was ready, I lifted my quilt and Stella along with Wally in between us laid down and snuggled up towards me.

Stella fell asleep and Wally must have done too because he was all quiet. But I laid awake snuggling feeling Stella's soft, dark hair towards my nose.

No matter what she would always be my little girl.

Despite the fact that maybe someday she'd move away from Summer and I and by then we could only talk on the phone every night instead of tucking her in and kissing her cheek.

But whatever it was I could take it for one thing only.

"Anything for you my precious butterfly."

XxXxX

Twenty eight years old…

Standing in the bride room for the church in Newport (dad had just pretended to be hurt that Stella wanted to be married in a church) Stella looked in the full- body mirror and inspected her white, long dress and white flowers in her braided hair for the twentieth time before going out and saying her yes to the man of her life.

This was a part I hoped we would never come to when I found out our daughter was disabled. I had freaking been relieved we might not get here.

But here we were, with a wedding outfit and a man (without disabilities) named Paul. And Sullivan's two children- aged seven and five as flowergirl and ring bearer.

Paul adored Stella's brothers and was himself an only child and had wanted his best friend Sawyer as his best man. On the other side of the altar stood Sophie Rose as Stella's bridesmaid. And right behind the altar, in the front bench sat my parents, mum just maybe was immortal after going through one heart attack and stage three breast cancer…

Moving out into the back of the church I could see them but they couldn't see me.

"I wish Silas was here too…"

I swallowed the lump in my throat that always rose in my throat when Silas, who had died in a car- meets- bike- accident almost a decade ago.

"Can't you see him?" I said shakily and pointed. "He's sitting right there." I pointed to an empty space in between my dad and Sawyer. "You really can't see him? He's used a whole bottle of hair gel for this occasion. And he's wearing that shirt you gave him, the red one. Can't you see him? He's right there."

"I can see him." Stella's lips turned into a a smile so big it lit up the whole church. "He's right there…. Are you sure I look fine daddy?"

Stella turned around in the white flower in her head two braids, a long white, sleeveless dress and only barely showing white, new converse- well. The shoes barely showed anyway.

"You look beautiful."

"Why are you sad?"

"I just…" I wiped the tears from my eyes. "…I'm just happy for you of course. But it's feeling like I lose you. And if not enough I'm losing you to another man."

"But dad."

Stella reached up and kissed my cheek, just as she had done that night all those years ago when she'd asked me not to kiss her goodnight more times.

There had been many more goodnight- kisses after that. I had kept my promise to always do it. More than ever our precious time than it had been before.

My arm hooked in hers, just like I had held her whole body in her arms when she was little and I was so chocked after having a child with a disability- a child with a disability. She was Stella, only Stella. And not disabled Stella.

Her twenty ninth birthday was soon coming up and for every birthday since her eight she'd made a cake that did NOT make anyone sick. She had never missed a riding lesson and it was a long time ago since I had to walk beside the pony holding a lead.

And then, as a baker (without using paprika these times) she had worked with Paul, a very special Paul who might not ever have imagined he was going to get married to a woman with this kind of disability. And I might never have imagined it and I would have liked to keep an eye on them twenty four seven for always to make sure he didn't hurt my daughter.

"Don't cry. You'll never lose me. I'll always be your little girl."

The doors started opening and the ring bearer and flower girl in front of us took their first few steps towards the altar.

The bridal march started playing and still shaky I took the first few steps forward while people all around were standing up. There were everyone- my parents and siblings and Ryan's wife and the twins and younger child, Paul's parents and all of Stella's friends. There were a wrinkle and another grey hair here or there but I couldn't have loved them more.

There were people Stella had gone to school with and there were more than two rounds cheeks and almond- shaped eyes. More than one tongue that couldn't quite fit into their mouths and lines right through their palms.

I couldn't have loved them more.

Still it broke my heart.

I was willing to do this if it meant my daughter would be happy. And with that I whispered under my breath

"Anything for you my precious butterfly."

The story's based on butterfly kisses by Bob Carlisle

I had actually almost decided on the name before I knew it was a butterfly. Yay me!

Random fact (one fact per scenario)

A bit ago Peter Gallagher (who plays Sandy) put some photos on his Instagram of his son- the first being with their both asleep, James as a baby and Peter with a new, tired dad. I have to say I got a bit of inspiration from that picture for the scene in between Seth and Sandy. And some more inspiration from stuff my dad's told me about being a parent to a small child.

I was wondering what could have gone wrong with the cake. And suddenly thought about something my mum accidentally did years ago when she was putting cinnamon on oatmeal and ended up using paprika instead so we had to throw it all away. But cinnamon felt like a random thing to put in a cake so I put that with cinnamon rolls in it- which is as Swedish as Swedish can possibly be.

I think my favorite thing with this scenario is that Stella has a horse night light named Captain Oats Junior.

Some things about where characters are now, Taylor and Ryan have another child after the twins. Kirsten might be immortal. Sophie Rose loves her aunt Sophie Rose and Paul, who's her soon- to- be husband adores her brothers. He is not disabled. Silas- the youngest son of Seth and Summer and older brother of Stella died in an accident. I killed Silas- I loved Silas. How could I have killed him? Seth and Summer also have grandkids.