Summary: OQ pregnancy fluff. It's AU - no EF, no Storybrooke, no magic. Daniel died in a car accident before Regina gave birth to their son, Henry. Now she's married to Robin and they're having a baby together.
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You Are My Sunshine
If anyone were to ask Regina eight months ago, whether she'd consider having another baby, she would have responded with a big fat 'no'. But that was before Robin.
Before Robin there were sleepless nights and endless fights with her parents over how she was doing a horrible disservice, raising her son without a father. Before Robin, there was an empty side of her bed and an empty space in her heart that belonged to Daniel. The same way Henry belonged to her and Daniel.
Before.
Before she understood the seriousness of hormonal changes and added responsibilities, they were both taking a running leap blindly into their first pregnancy. That was fifteen years ago, when they were both practically children – naïve enough to think that 'pulling out' really worked and that being pregnant at her high school graduation wouldn't mar their futures. Cora had been devastated and Regina's father had had his first heart attack (the second and fatal one would come not long before Daniel's accident), but for her and Daniel, it was the start of a new dream. There was never a doubt in their minds that their life would be wonderful. The quaint fantasy of a stylish little home with just enough room for themselves and their little bundle of joy filled their imaginations as they waited for the baby to be born.
It was a head-on collision that took that dream and Daniel's life in the blink of an eye, leaving Regina alone with a three-month-old son in a shabby apartment she could barely afford. Eventually she couldn't at all and, with a father and a husband dead, she had to beg her mother to let her move back in. For the first six years of Henry's life, the only home he knew was the same one where his mother had grown up.
This was all before, and Regina rarely thinks about the early years anymore, blocks it out and pretends they were all bad dreams. She pushes the grief down below the surface because she would rather die than have Henry think the tears she sheds are because she's shameful of him and not herself. He never knew his father, but he knows of him and they still visit Daniel's grave, leaving flowers and trinkets in remembrance of him after they clear away the leaves from his headstone.
This was before. They still go, but now they're joined by Robin who's made Regina his wife and formally adopted Henry as his son – he said it was the least he could do to extend support to two people he adores and shares his life with, hoping he is honoring the spirit of the young man who left these precious gifts behind. That's what he tells Henry, that he's a precious gift left for him and that he's the luckiest man in the world. He tells Regina that too, that he's the luckiest man in the world.
She scoffs at that thought – Robin Locksley, a man with his own baggage in the form of an ex-wife and a two-year-old son, lucky for ending up with her and her son. She knows it's the other way around. Robin, who never claims to be perfect or boast about extensive knowledge of child development and parenting, wears his fatherhood like a badge of honor on his chest and she knows that she and Henry are the lucky ones. So when Robin approached her with the subject of adding another sibling to the mix – a little girl, perhaps – she didn't hesitate to say 'yes'. Before – before she would have said no. But this is after. And after brings with it talks of another child, a new baby, whom Robin would love just as much if it was a boy, but he really hoped for a daughter and, secretly, so did Regina.
It was in a dimly-lit room three months later when their wishes were granted. When the sonographer pointed to the 3-D image on the ultrasound monitor and confirmed that they'd be welcoming a little girl into the Mills-Locksley family by the end of November. Even Cora was excited – a new girl to tutor and mold into a little lady the way she had never managed with her mother. She arrived one night in the middle of dinner, several gift bags in tow, gushing about 'her precious granddaughter' the way she had never gushed over Henry, and proceeded to unload every frilly dress she had found in various shades of blush, rose, coral, magenta, fuchsia, and even bubblegum.
After that night, Regina swore off the color pink. Which meant that when the time came to choose a color and theme for the nursery, Robin was in over his head. He managed to hold his patience firmly for the first few rounds of browsing through baby catalogues, but after the second week, Regina's indecision proved to be contagious and his opinions fell flat. It took two more months of countless hours looking at stores, browsing catalogs in waiting rooms, and online orders that resulted in four cancellations and two exchanges before Regina finally settled on what she wanted. The bedding was modern and feminine with yellow dahlias, and Robin had decorated the wall over the white sleigh crib with a black decal that said 'you are my sunshine' – a song he and the boys had taken to continuously singing around Regina's growing belly.
All that was left to do was bring the baby home from the hospital to enjoy her newly decorated room. Standing in the doorway of the nursery, Regina admires their handiwork, absentmindedly stroking the curve of her abdomen, smoothing down the flowy fabric. Even at thirty-one weeks, her stomach does not protrude as far as she remembers it sticking out when she was eight months along with Henry. But there's still time for her to grow and perhaps make a few slight adjustments to the design of the nursery.
She takes a deep breath, a whiff of the crisp pine of Robin's shower gel tickles her nostrils, and she feels him fill the space behind her, gently massaging her shoulders. As he trails his lips over her skin, leading from her shoulder to the warm space below her ear, she sighs.
"Why did we buy so much yellow? It's like the sun threw up in here." She pouts her lip. "The baby might hate yellow. What if she wanted pink? Or green? Maybe we should change it."
Robin just laughs, knows that she would do this, because this is not the first irrational thought she's had this pregnancy. The pregnancy hormones have brought with them senseless tears, crazy mood swings, and the inability to make a decision and stick with it. But he loves the woman in front of him, entirely unconditionally, and so he humors her, inspects the interior of the nursery from wall to wall along with his very pregnant wife, whispers to her of the day they first found out about their new baby. He tells her why they shunned pink, avoiding mentioning his new mother-in-law at all costs.
He tells her, "I love it, and Sunny is going to love it too."
"Sunny." She scrunches her nose, unable to wrap her brain around the nickname Robin had adopted for the baby because it's killing him to be this close to a due date without a proper name being established. She thought it was cute the first time she heard it, but that was before the 100th rendition of 'you are my sunshine' serenaded her during breakfast. It reminds her too much of the thorn in her side, the adequately labeled Pregnancy Brain, which covers an array of irregular behaviors without ever conforming to a clear list of guidelines, and this has plagued her for exactly twenty-nine weeks, almost from the moment she had read the word 'pregnant' on a tiny digital screen on a test stick in her bathroom.
"We're not calling her that." She won't even say the name, pulls away from Robin's touch.
"Well, we've got to call her something. She'll be here before too long and the hospital will need a name for the birth certificate."
She walks over to the changing table and picks up a stuffed lamb, moves it to the multi-layered shelving unit that only holds decorative items – a tiny rocking horse figurine, an eight inch bird cage, a wooden giraffe – all yellow. There are gray bins for organizing diapers, lotions, powder, and wipes tastefully and strategically placed to break up the accent color, but there's still way too much yellow and Regina's insides are screaming. She leaves the lamb where it is, retreating with the few fragments of sanity she can still cling to.
Her delayed reply gives evidence to her state of fatigue, "I'm done with making decisions for today, and probably for the duration of this pregnancy."
She's going down the hallway and through their bedroom door. Robin trails closely behind, helping her get into bed and propping the three pillows required for her comfort behind her.
He pulls the corners of the bedding up to where her abdomen meets the tops of her thighs. "Can I get you anything?"
"You're asking questions after I clearly stated that I am done with making decisions." She rubs her whole face with both hands, pushes her hair back and laces her fingers together behind her neck. Her eyes are glossy when she stares up at him.
There's not a moment of hesitation before he's climbing into bed with her, propping himself on one arm. He splays a protective hand over the place where his daughter will reside for only a few more weeks. For a few breaths he just looks at his wife, his expression conveying as much love as his soul has to offer. The way she looks back at him tells him he doesn't have to say a word.
Regina knows she's having yet another irrational moment. She can't stop it from happening even when she's aware of her manic behavior. She feels guilty, she feels exhausted, she feels like she can't pull enough air into her lungs, but most of all she feels grateful for such a wonderful husband who has put up with her throughout it all. What she wouldn't give to be as calm as he always seems to be when she's on the verge of a nervous breakdown over insignificant things. These days she escalates and unravels so easily, and he just takes it all in stride.
She touches her fingertips to her lips, smiles and admits, "I think I would feel so much better if I could have a kiss."
"I think you're right." He agrees and rewards her with three.
She hums her pleasure, "I love you. What the hell is wrong with me?"
"Nothing is wrong with you, and the nursery is perfect. You'll see, when Sunny smiles up at those puffy yellow flowers above her bed."
He smiles when he sees her smile and they both let out a breathy laugh. The space between them is quiet for a moment until Regina gives in to a yawn and snuggles down into the memory foam, eyes closed.
He takes a gamble and asks again, "can I get you anything?"
"Shh..."
Smiling, Robin lets her situate herself with her hands over his on her stomach. He shimmies down, trying to get comfortable beside her, but never moves his hand away from hers.
Her breathing evens out and he thinks she's asleep when she mumbles softly, "I meant what I said about not making any more decisions. In fact, it's probably for the best if you pick out a name."
Robin stays quiet, lets her finish out the crazy talk, because they both know this is still crazy talk. He rubs his thumb over the tiny bump that's poking out near Regina's belly button, trying to figure out if it's a heel or an elbow that his little girl is using to make more room for herself.
"There are just too many names to choose from. It was so easy when I named Henry after my father." Regina groans. "So I'm leaving it up to you, Daddy. You can name her anything you like. With the exception of 'Sunny'."
Robin nods his head, knows Regina can't see it. "I'll be sure to submit a small list for your approval by the end of the week."
"Good."
The conversation is over and Regina lets herself fall asleep to dreams of the new life she's started, of the fantasy life has been before the new baby and how different it's been to life before Robin, and she knows that none of it compares to what will come after.