Several hours later, he had finally, apparently, convinced the police that he hadn't taken any children, and frankly, he had no idea what they were talking about when they mentioned eyes. To their relief, and his exasperation, they hadn't found any eyes in the search of his house. His panic attack certainly didn't help prove his innocence, and the slight rage before had certainly caused some marks on his name.

That said, being forced to restrain his feelings with his children probably helped. He hated himself a bit, but was able to sit down, calmly, and mention a few details that he absolutely had to about the incident. There was no way he was telling any of the other things though. They were immensely private, although they were something secret that he could use to see if the person who was actively taking children was the actual man.

He was positive that every single person now knew that he had left things out on purpose, but he had long ago promised himself never to mention them. No, there were some things that were only allowed to see the light in his nightmares. That didn't mean he had settled down by the time he retired to his room. Not in the slightest. He was still shaking almost constantly, a side effect from the panic attack that he knew would probably last the rest of the night. He was still twitching, for lack of a better word, and more paranoid towards movement. It probably didn't help that there were five officers in his house, and another three at every doorway with two more patrolling constantly.

Personally, Remy doubted they could stop a cat burglar, let alone a cold, calculating killer. He wouldn't say anything just yet, but that didn't mean he was particularly pleased with the way his day had gone. He had been able to keep the children away from the police though, which while little, was something at least.

This entire mess was making a disaster area of his mind, and he couldn't force himself to settle just yet. It was late, later than he preferred to be awake. His father was with Theo, having opted to keep an eye upstairs on the children so that Remy could sleep through the night. He had little doubt that he would actually be doing anything other than staring at the ceiling, though.

Funny enough, about an hour later, there was a knock on his door. He grabbed a robe, pure black, and tied it around his waist tightly. Remy hid a sigh, and unlocked his door. He hadn't been locking it, as Kaira was prone to coming down and falling asleep in his room, but with all of the strangers in his house, he knew that it was insane of him not to. If he didn't have either a copycat of the man who had tortured him for months, or the man he thought he burned alive after him, then maybe, maybe, he wouldn't lock himself up.

If he had his way, he would have brought all five kids to his room, but he had been outvoted by his mother, sister, father, boss, and the cop who had found him. They all wanted him to get a restful night's sleep. Little did they know that keeping him from them was a recipe for making sure that he was as uncomfortable as possible. He had gotten used to their routine together, and having strangers in the house, as well as being cut off from their father would likely make the children unable to settle.

He opened the door, expecting to see either a family member, or an officer with his nightmare prone daughter, but that wasn't the case. His breath caught in his throat, and the shaking in his hands got worse. Remy shoved them in the robe pockets, doing a horrible job of making sure that she didn't see them.

Sleek black hair, cold, icy blue eyes, and a devilish smirk together made up only one person. Amy. But why was she here?

There was no way that she would take back the triplets, as she still wasn't exactly mother- material, but that begged the question of how she got in his home in the first place. He had purposely kept his new residence quiet, while keeping his phone on. If either Amy or Julia wanted to speak to him, they couldn't just have their way and pop up in the middle of the night. They had to call, and let him know firstly.

Or, at least, that had been the plan. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now. If he didn't let her in, she would cause a scene, thus causing the attention of the people in his home to shift to them. If he did, not only would he not be able to get away if she lost her temper, but she could start something, then people would know, or, more embarrassingly, they could think about why a pretty girl was visiting him in the middle of the night.

This entire mess was causing havoc on his psyche, he knew that, but, he also knew that he didn't have a choice, and, reluctantly, moved out of the doorway so that she could enter. This was already bad enough as it was, he wasn't going to add public humiliation to the list.

She strode into his room, hips swaying like a queen in her black heels. She was gorgeous and looking much better than she had been back when she dropped the triplets off with him. "Good evening, Remus, love." She muttered, stroking his cheek with a soft, deceptive touch.

He hid a gulp. She was in a bad mood. No, she was completely pissed. Her makeup was perfectly done, as was her hair. The only time she dressed up like this was before an event that made him learn how to cover up bruises in the first place.

"You, um, you look beautiful, Amy." He complemented softly. If anyone had been around, both of them would have been on their best behavior. Unfortunately, just because she couldn't, or probably wouldn't, bruise him again, didn't mean he wasn't in for a hell of a night. She was ready to tear into him, only, it would be verbally, where he couldn't fight back in fear of someone coming to check on him.

She stepped closer, and he held steady. Another seductive step, and he focused his eyes on her shoulder. He wouldn't move, no, that would just prove that she could still intimidate him. He had honestly been surprised he had gotten away with as much as he had when Amy had dropped off the triplets with her boy toy. Now, it seemed, he was going to pay for it.

A step away, and he couldn't stop himself from taking a step back, cursing himself. He wasn't mentally prepared for this right now, and it was impossible to stop himself it seemed. She smiled cruelly, stepping closer until his back hit the wall. She raised one perfectly manicured hand to his face, stroking his cheek once again, before lowering it to his neck.

Remy about stopped breathing when she started digging her nails into his neck. Tighter and tighter her grip became. She waited until he started choking lightly, to release him and lean close to his ear, just in case, he supposed, anyone else was listening in.

"I don't care if you take care of your children, Remus. I just care when I get called in the middle of the night to calm down your brats. Either deal with them, or I'll make sure neither of us have to. If anyone else ever calls me again about your spawn, Remus Sedgley, and I don't care if it's the police, your parents, or anyone else, I will drop them off at an orphanage then and there. Then, I'll be over to... spend some time with you. Do you understand?"

It wasn't a question. With Amy, it never was. She only made statements with him, and ones that he knew better than to deny. She wasn't the weak, petite woman that she looked like to an outsider. No, he had believed that she was a gentle soul at first, but when she put out a cigarette on his neck within a week of dating, that delusion was shattered. If she could do that when they were just sitting together on the couch, perfectly calm, then what could she do when she was actually upset?

He had found out the hard way exactly what she was capable of, but like any idiot protecting the one hurting them, he had kept quiet. He had only been to the hospital twice because of her, not that he told anyone, but after that, they were getting too suspicious, and he started treating himself. He had heard the doctors discussing with his parents back in the day, that he was probably hurting himself to get attention.

As if, he thought with a mental snort.

Amy slapped him across the face, nails raking against his skin. "You're thinking of other people." She hissed, smirking when he flinched harshly. "I've told you repeatedly to not do that!"

That was yet another problem with their relationship. He hadn't been allowed to think about anything or anyone else in any manner with her. She liked to believe that she was his everything, which, during their relationship she was, but she could be violent when she thought that he was breaking one of her rules.

But, even after she dumped him, on the few occasions she had seen him and they hadn't been in public, she had no problem showing him exactly what she thought of his behavior. It wasn't like he had been cheating with anyone, or even thinking about it, but thinking at all, in Amy's world, was a stupid idea. She didn't like him for his mind, after all, and had no problem giving him a list of all of his faults when he accidently annoyed her.

"Oh, and Remus, dear?" she whispered sweetly, rage still burning in her deep blue eyes, "If you ever send your things to my home again, I'll burn them before I hand them over. I am not your slave, I am not your girlfriend, and I am not your pretty little wife who will just lay down and take whatever you throw at me! Here!" She threw a box, small, about the size of a ring box, at his face. He had been facing the other direction, and hadn't noticed it until it clipped him on the face.

It fell into his hand, but by then, Amy was already on her way out.

He hid a groan. This wasn't how he had planned for this night to go at all. Frankly, the fact that someone had called Amy, even though she had given over full custody to him and was going to give up her parental rights, was just disturbing. Remy synched the robe tighter around his waist, before leaving his room to go upstairs and deal with whatever they had called Amy for.

His front door slammed, telling him that Amy had found her own way out. Good, he didn't want her there. His fingers twisted the box through them, ignoring the looks of the people in his home. He was fully dressed, and appropriate. If anyone had a problem with the conversation that he had with Amy, well, they could suck it up.

The moment he climbed the stairs, he knew what the problem was, and headed to pick up Theo first and foremost, scooping his son into his arms while ignoring his father, before going into the older twin's room and sitting with Kaira. Funny enough, Calla was also up, sitting in her own bright yellow bed and trying not to look awkward. The poor girls must have been having a long night.

His mother and sisters were in the girls room, but he ignored them, and smiled at the little ones, both of whom squealed "Papa!" when he came opened the door.

"Hello my darling, hello sweetheart." He said calmly, sitting on Kaira's bed. He adjusted Theo in his arms, who was already starting to fall asleep, while Kaira latched onto his left. Calla looked away, but he wasn't surprised, and simply raised his other arm towards her, a gesture that had her running with her little legs to his side and climbing up on her sisters bed. He had learned to expect things like this when Kai was upset, but the fact that her sister was awake was strange.

Theo grumbled at him, reaching a hand up to his father's face, and Remy suppressed the need to flinch. He couldn't afford to be weak right now, and his children needed their father. They were scared and confused as to what was going on, but he wasn't about to tell them anything about it. No, even when they grew up, which was, he would admit, a strange thought, he was still going to keep most of his childhood quiet.

There were things no child needed to know about their parents, and he was sure that this was one of them.

He laid Theo on the bed next to Kaira, who wrapped her arms around her little brother, and stroked Calla's hair softly. He stayed there for a few minutes, before adjusting Theo back into his arms. His youngest son was already fast asleep, and it was time for him to just be with his daughters. Kai, knowing the routine by now, moved off of him, leaving Calla to cuddle closer. He gently pushed his oldest off of him and kissed her head. He would be back in a few minutes.

Once he stood up, Calla decided she would do the same, and trailed behind him as he stopped by the boy's nursery first. He tucked Theo into bed and kissed his forehead while making sure that the boy's wolf was in reach. He then moved across the room to check on Thario, who had kicked away his dolphin. He replaced the toy, and kissed his oldest son, before moving to the next room.

Aislynn, as always, was deeply asleep, not at all surprising as she was one of his early raisers. He gently stroked her hair and kissed her head. He spent most of the early morning with Aislynn and Calla, who always woke up first. Thario was always the first one to wake up from the afternoon naps, thus getting his special time while his siblings were still caught in Morpheus' grip. At night, he would cuddle his youngest son until he fell asleep, then his middle daughter when she woke from her nightmares. It wasn't perfect, but he tried to spend at least half an hour of individual time with each of his children every day.

Despite what everyone thought, he wasn't a bad father, or at least, he didn't think he was. He was doing the best he knew how to, and even though it wasn't perfect, it seemed to work alright for now.

Once all of his children were down for the night, he went into the kitchen, once again pretending that the officers and other intruders weren't there and made himself a cup of coffee. It only took a few minutes before he had poured himself the coffee and set it so that it would indeed make a pot for his guests, should they want it.

He only made dark roasts, though, usually French. You wouldn't catch him dead drinking a blonde roast, as to him, they were the worst part of coffee, but he always liked to have a good bit of dark roast lying around. Just in case, he would tell himself when he had once again bought three large canisters of coffee, even though he already had five at home.

Having done all he was planning on doing that evening, he retired to his study. Pulling out the box may not have been the best thing at this point, but he was curious. His neck still stung a bit, and he assumed that if it bruised, it would be light enough that no one would question him on it. Even if someone did, he would never answer truthfully. No, there were some things that were meant to be kept private, and his interactions with Amy were just a small portion of them.

He pulled the paper off of the box, and flipped it open. The first thing he noticed was a key, black iron, large, and heavy. He would recognize it anywhere. Remy pushed the panic down, and shaking, pulled the cushion out from the bottom of the box. He froze, shaking getting worse, before unlocking the door and calling for one of the officers.

There was no way he was messing with a severed pinkie finger bleeding on the bottom of a box. The key, he could handle, but this? This was too much.