Title: Wooden Horses
Author: DrawnToDark
Fandom: Tin Man
Characters/Pairing: DG/Cain
Prompt: Toy
Summary: Who knew a little wooden horse could mean so much.
Disclaimer: DG, Cain and the Outer Zone don't belong to me. Neither does the little wooden horse. No money is being meant, no copyright infringement is meant.
Turning the small wooden figure over in his hands, calloused fingertips checking the carving for any rough edges, the former Tin Man couldn't keep his mind from wandering back to the last time he'd created such an object.
He remembered how Adora had laughed, her hands splayed out over her extended abdomen as she teased him affectionately about being a little too keen to have their child join them. Their son was still weeks from being born but already the doting father had made the first of his toys. Accepting the good-natured teasing with a sheepish grin, Cain had continued with his work, determined to make sure there would be a full set of carved figures for their child to play with when he was ready.
Jeb had loved them. Sure, he'd used the earlier models as tools with which to cut his teeth as a very young child but, as he'd grown older, he'd come to love playing with the wooden toys his father had painstakingly hand-carved and hand-painted.
It was a little wooden horse, Cain mused, that had saved his life when a bullet from his own revolver should have ended it and it was a little wooden horse that had given him hope that his family were still alive.
It was also over a little wooden horse – the one with a bullet embedded into it – that father and son had managed to repair their floundering relationship.
Guilt and fear had caused tension between them in the first days and months after the end of the evil witch's reign. Wyatt felt guilty he hadn't been able to better protect his wife and child; Jeb felt guilt that he had believed Zero's lies and left his father imprisoned for so long in his iron suit. Both were afraid of getting close again in case something happened and they should lose one another again.
Thankfully, they'd managed to overcome those hurdles. Thanks to the little wooden horse and the well-meaning interference of a certain blue-eyed Princess.
Thinking of that night, of the effort DG had put into getting the two stubborn Cain men together – tricking them both into an unused room on the third floor, then magically locking the door so neither could leave until all was well between them – still made him smile.
It was the morning after that night, after some surprising words of wisdom from his son, that Cain had realised Jeb wasn't the only person he'd been afraid of letting himself get close to.
Six months after that, and Jeb stood proudly at his side as Wyatt Cain, former Tin Man, exchanged his vows with the youngest Princess.
An annual later, Cain was sat at the desk in the office he'd been given, surveying his handiwork with a critical eye.
"Are you almost done for the day or do I have to freeze in bed by myself all night?"
Lifting his gaze from the unpainted horse in his hands, Cain didn't fight the soft smile that spread across his face at the sight of his wife standing in the doorway of the room.
He'd always thought she glowed with the strength of the light inside her but her radiance had only increased as her body had begun to change to accommodate their growing child. Her blue eyes were soft when they locked with his, the sight of such unrestrained love in them taking his breath away.
He still wondered, sometimes, what he'd done to deserve a second chance – what he'd done to deserve her.
Whenever he questioned it aloud, DG just gave him a blinding smile and a look that said if he didn't know, she wasn't going to tell him.
"Seriously, Cain, it's cold." She leaned against the doorway, a hand resting protectively over their unborn child. He wondered if she realised her palm gave a little glow when she did that, the way it did when she held hands with her sister, and couldn't quash the excitement that surged through him at the image his mind supplied of their unborn daughter.
She would have her mother's eyes, he knew instinctively, and no doubt her sense of mischief, too.
And maybe in a few annuals time, he'd see a pout identical to the one DG wore on a features that were a perfect blend of his and hers.
"It's not that cold, darlin'. It could always be worse." He stood from the chair, the muscles in his back protesting at the sudden movement after being kept in one position for so long, and winced only a little before covering the distance between them. The hand that wasn't holding the small carving reached out to cover hers and he was immediately rewarded with a strong kick from the child beneath their palms.
"I suppose we could be at the Northern Palace instead," DG conceded with an exaggerated shiver, her nose crinkling in a way he would always think of adorable as she thought about the palace her mother had wanted her to stay in for the birth of her first child.
Although the ice palace was widely considered to be the true home of the Royal family, Cain knew neither his wife nor sister-in-law considered it to be home. It was a place of too many bad memories, not to mention being the place where the possessed Azkadellia had murdered her little sister.
It was for that reason that Cain had sided with his wife and vetoed the Queen's attempts at getting them to stay at the Northern Palace. Finaqua was where both sisters were happiest and keeping DG happy – especially a heavily pregnant, hormonal DG – was right up there on his list of priorities along with keeping her safe.
Wrapping an arm around DG's waist to escort her back to their suite, Cain didn't protest when she took the small carving out of his hand. They'd made it to their suite, the door closed behind them, when he realised she was crying.
"Deeg?" Alarm spread through him instantly. "What is it, darlin'? Is it the baby...?"
DG shook her head, lifting her teary eyes to meet his. A watery smile curled the corners of her mouth and it was all the warning he got before she pounced, leaping at him with as much grace as the baby she carried would allow. Her arms wrapped around him in a constricting vice but Cain did nothing to break her hold, returning the embrace just as fiercely though still in the dark at what had prompted it.
It was several minutes later that DG composed herself enough to enlighten him, lifting her tear-streaked face from where she'd buried it against his chest, the blinding smile he loved so much curving her lips even as her eyes shimmered.
"It's beautiful, Wyatt," she told him quietly, clutching the unpainted wooden horse as though it were more precious than all the jewels in the zone.
"It's not finished yet..." Cain hedged, flushing at the sincere praise to what he still saw as a work-in-progress. "Gotta paint it, varnish it..."
"It's our daughter's first toy," DG murmured, dropping her gaze to the little wooden horse she cradled in her palm. "You could leave it like this and it'd still be the most beautiful thing in the whole Outer Zone because you made it for her." She tilted her face up to his and he obliged her with a searing kiss. "It's beautiful, Wyatt, and I know she's going to love it."
He knew their daughter in all likelihood wasn't going to pay it much attention other than as a favourite chew thing but the gratitude in her mother's eyes more than made up for it. Cain kissed his wife tenderly before taking the horse from her hand, setting it down on a table as he led her through the living area towards their bedroom.
The little wooden horse sat on the table, a sign of not only the bright future ahead but also a symbol of the second chance Wyatt Cain had been given.
End.