Nightmares and new teeth won't let either Mills woman get some sleep.
Regina rolls over for what feels like the millionth time and lets out a frustrated sigh. Sleep, damnit. For the first time in days she has the chance to rest uninterrupted and of course, now is when it alludes her. She glances at the empty pillow beside her and scowls. It's Robin's fault. Well, mostly his fault. He's the one who is making her mind run a mile a minute. If he were here, she'd smack him. But not too hard. He's still tender, she knows, despite his insistence he is 100% better.
She rolls onto her stomach and chances a glance at her alarm clock. 1:47. She has to get up in less than six hours and yet it seems like it'll take at least eight for her to simply catch a glimpse of rest. She exhales angrily and moves over to Robin's side of the bed, his scent on the pillow almost enough to relax her. Her eyes close, but her vision is assaulted, not for the first time, by the color red, so much red, and David's frantic expression and Robin's too slow breathing and don't stand a chance if he dies-
A shrill cry makes her eyes snap open, chest heaving much harder than it had been when she closed them. It's takes a moment, but then she realizes where the noise is coming from and she shoves off the covers, feet finding slippers and hands finding robe before she pads down the hallway to the nursery.
Morgan, it seems, is having trouble falling asleep as well- or rather, staying asleep. She has for the past few nights and Regina prays she's not entering into a difficult phase. Chubby legs kick in the air, fists shaking in displeasure, as the infant wails for attention. Regina clicks on the small lamp by the changing table before going over to the crib and scooping her daughter into her arms.
"What's the matter, sweet pea?" she coos, bouncing and rocking back and forth. It's not time for another feeding and a quick check tells her there's no need for a diaper change. "Are you having nightmares too?" Regina asks softly, her swaying having some effect on the baby, but not much. When Morgan lets out another scream, Regina notices a small whitish mark on her bottom gum. Ah, that would be it. Their little girl is starting to teethe.
She thinks, for a split second, maybe she should call Robin… but no, no, she knows how to handle a teething infant. She can do this, she's done this before.
She kisses wisps of blonde curls and suddenly remembers Henry has final exams tomorrow. He needs a full night's sleep and having a colicky little sister probably isn't helping that cause. Henry. An idea suddenly strikes her at the thought of her eldest. He had been finicky too, and on some nights, the only thing that would lull him to sleep would be a nice long car ride.
Seeing as the ghosts of the night seem determined to haunt her until dawn, a mind-numbing drive doesn't seem like too bad of an idea. Maybe it'll be the sleep draught both of them need. And if she happens to drop by the sheriff's station, well, maybe Morgan just needs her father for a bit.
She keeps Morgan in her footie pajamas, a knit hat from Granny being the only addition to her daughter's attire (it is still only April, after all, and the rain hasn't completely chased out the chill yet). The infant, for the most part, has stopped screaming, but the blubbering and occasional wail refuse to cease. She doesn't have any frozen teething rings handy and curses herself for it. That's something a mother would think to do, she tells herself angrily. She makes a mental note to throw some in before the night is over, but a pacifier will have to do for now (or, it would, if Morgan wanted to keep it in her mouth).
Regina replaces her robe with a light jacket and her slippers with flats, not bothering to change completely because the longer she dawdles, the better chance the boys will wake and once Roland's up, he stays up. Getting Morgan into her carseat reignites her screams and protests from earlier and if the boys aren't disturbed after that show of temper, outside or not, Regina might suspect they've been slipped some sleeping spell.
"It's alright, sweetheart, we're just going for a drive," Regina sing-songs as she slides into the driver's seat. Apparently, Morgan doesn't believe her, cries carrying them out of the driveway and down the street. "Do you want to sing, pumpkin? Let's sing," Regina decides, adjusting the rearview mirror so she can see her daughter clearly. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine," she begins, keeping her voice at a soothing level to combat Morgan's shrill shrieks. "You make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."
She finishes the song with a frown just as Morgan starts to hiccup instead of scream. She's sung that song countless times to all three of her children and she never realized how morbid it was. Don't take her sunshine away? That seems to be her lifelong prayer- always pleading to keep what she's worked so hard to have. She thinks of last week and waiting, waiting, waiting, and Whale's remarks and Robin's hand suddenly squeezing hers-
She needs to sing another song. A happier one, something that will soothe both her and Morgan. Her daughter has started to calm, thank heavens, but that peace might be short lived if Regina doesn't keep this going. "Let's sing something else, hm? How about this one: Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are?"
They get through that one and "Baa Baa Black Sheep" before Morgan has finally ceased all whimpers and cries, her blue eyes watching the streetlights in wonder, eyelids drooping every now and then. "Is that better, sweetheart? Finally feeling sleepy enough to rest?" Regina murmurs as they turn onto the Charmings' street. "Say hi to Grandma Snow and Grandpa David and Baby Neal. They're probably all asleep," she sighs a bit begrudgingly as they pass the loft.
David was supposed to work the graveyard shift tonight, and if he had, Regina has no doubt she'd be sound asleep right now. But Robin had offered to take it. More like insisted, saying David deserved a night off after the week they've all had. Regina wanted to argue that Robin deserved a night off too, a night where he'd be safe at home with her and the kids, but he didn't want to hear it. I'm fine, love, he had assured her. There's no reason why I can't cover David's shift. I want to get back into the swing of things, anyway.
Yes, well, the swing of things involves him being unsafe and not with her and not where she can make sure he's okay and that leads to sleepless, restless nights and long mornings and how on earth is she supposed to care for their children alone if he goes and gets himself killed? It's selfish of him, really. She thinks again that if Robin were here right now, she'd smack him.
Regina glances up at the rearview. Two blue eyes are on the fast track to being closed, one head of sandy blonde curls resting heavily against the side of the carseat. "There we are, sweetheart," she whispers with a smile, turning onto Main Street. "See? Mommy can take care of you even without Daddy being here."
She doesn't believe it, though. Her confidence in being a mother has been… shaken, to say the least. She raised Henry. She can be a mother, but Henry had been hers. No one ever doubted she was his mother and he her son. Roland and Morgan, they should be no different. She should feel no different about raising them as her own. And she hadn't felt different about them, not at first.
But then she caught wind of what others around town had been saying- that she was merely a stand-in, a fake. Robin was their parent and she, for whatever reason, was not. She ignored the ignorant whisperings of people who know nothing of their situation. What right do they have to judge love that should be unconditional? And she had reasoned to herself that as long as Robin was around, she had a legitimate claim to being their children's mother. He was their father and she his partner, so that meant what she felt for them was real, right? She could be their mother so long as Robin was there.
She curses that drunk at the Rabbit Hole. Derek, she remembers. His name is Derek and he's locked up and away and he can't do anything to Robin again. Still, the image of his knife and Robin's chest won't leave her mind and Whale's sneer comes soon after. She never valued the opinion of the tactless doctor before and she still doesn't, even now when his words echo through her brain and keep her up at night. But she'd be remiss to say that he hasn't rattled her- he always knows which goddamn scab to pick at, which insecurity to thrust into the spotlight. Last week had been no different.
Regina looks back up to catch sight of Morgan, a little ball of sunshine if Regina's ever seen one, slumbering soundly now as they pass Granny's. No one will ever doubt Robin is her father, not with those eyes and that hair and those dimples. If only the same could be said for her mother. Whale's smirk and careless eyes flash through Regina's mind and her grip on the steering wheel tightens.
She pulls into the parking lot of the sheriff's station, leaving the car running so Morgan won't wake when she starts it again. She takes her phone out of her jacket pocket and sends a text before settling back in her seat, feeling what just might be a hint of sleepiness behind her eyes.
It only takes a few moments after her message sends that the station's door is opening and Robin's coming outside, a pleasantly confused look on his face. He goes around and opens the passenger door, sliding inside quietly and closing the door gently. "What are you doing here?" he whispers while leaning in to peck a kiss to her lips.
"We couldn't sleep," she explains, glancing back to Morgan. "Although, one of us found the drive over more relaxing than the other."
Robin looks back at their daughter and smiles. "I bet you she's working on a tooth. She's been very fussy the past couple of days."
"You would be right," Regina agrees. "I caught sight of it just breaking through when she was crying earlier."
Robin turns back to Regina, smile melting into concern. "Why couldn't you sleep?"
She shrugs and avoids his gaze. "I… was worried about you," she admits after a moment, knowing he won't let her get away with a noncommittal answer.
"Me?" Robin asks as if it was a completely absurd thought.
Regina looks back up at him angrily. "Yes, you," she hisses and finally does smack him, the back of her hand finding his arm. It wasn't hard, but he pouts all the same, rubbing his bicep. "You're the reason I can't sleep."
"Me?" Robin says again and Regina rolls her eyes.
"If you hadn't gotten stabbed-"
"Regina-"
"No, Robin. Don't tell me I have nothing to worry about because I do. You know I do."
He sighs and glances back at Morgan again. "How'd you get her to fall asleep?"
Regina blinks. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"How'd you get her to fall asleep?" he repeats calmly.
Regina shakes her head. "We were singing."
Robin nods. "And how'd you get Roland to take a bath tonight?"
"I… told him if he didn't take a bath, he wouldn't get a bedtime story," Regina answers absently, furrowing her brow. What on earth is he getting at?
"And how did you get Henry to get off his phone and go to sleep?"
"I said if he didn't put his phone down tonight, he wouldn't have it tomorrow."
Robin smiles. "See? That's what you should be worrying about. Our children. Not me, my love. Never me. I am not worth your worry. The three children who are so lucky to have you as a mother? They are worth your worry. You know as well as I that they are worth everything."
Regina closes her eyes and exhales. "Of course I know that," she whispers. "And I worry about them, too. All the time. But just because I worry about them doesn't mean I can't worry about you, too. I mean, sure, you pulled through this time, but what about the next time? Or the time after that? I can't help but worry about what will happen to our family if we lose you."
Robin reaches out and grasps her hand. "I don't worry. You know why?"
Regina shakes her head, hair falling from behind her ear.
"Because," Robin starts, tucking the stray lock back where it came from, "I know that no matter what happens to me, my children will have the best life possible. And they will be cherished and loved and treasured because they have you as their mother. You were born to be a mother, Regina. It's a very part of you. And nothing will change the fact that you have three beautiful children who love you."
"Whale didn't seem to think so," Regina mutters, eyes dropping to the floor.
Robin's grip on her hand tightens, something like a growl spilling from his lips. "Whale is a pig," he spits. "And how dare he comment on something he doesn't know two shits about."
You best hope he pulls through. His kids don't stand a chance if he dies.
Regina pinches her eyes shut, willing the doctor's voice away. "He's not the only one who thinks like that," she murmurs, opening her eyes when the warmth of his hand returns to her cheek.
"Do you really think I care about what everyone else thinks?" Robin asks, ducking his head to catch her gaze when she drops it.
"No. I know you don't," Regina replies, sliding her hand up to grasp his forearm. "But I just can't help but think… what would have happened… how the kids would…" She shakes her head, cheek bumping into his palm.
Robin sighs, then offers her a grin. "Regina, you are their mother. My presence doesn't change that. If the roles were reversed and something happened to you, do you doubt I'd be able to care for and protect Henry the same way I would Roland and Morgan?"
"No, of course not."
"And why's that?"
Regina twists her mouth to the side, shrugging because he's got her and that annoys her to no end.
Robin chuckles, reaching up to cup both her cheeks. "Because Henry is one of my own now. And, God forbid, should something happen to you, I won't care for him any differently than I do now. Just as I know you would still love Roland and Morgan if anything happened to me." He leans in and kisses her forehead, his beard scraping her skin as he continues to speak. "You're their mother, my love. And how lucky they are to have you."
Regina exhales and rests her head on his shoulder. The angle's a little awkward with the center consul between them, but she doesn't mind. "Sorry," she breathes. "I was being stupid."
"Don't apologize for your worries, love. They're not stupid and neither are you," Robin assures her, pressing a kiss to her hair. "It's only natural for parents to fret over how well they're raising their children. But if Henry's any indication, I'd say you're doing a damn good job."
"We are doing a good job," Regina corrects, pulling back so she can see him clearly. "It's we, now."
Robin smiles and leans in to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. "We, then," he amends, pressing kisses to her cheeks, brow, and forehead before reclaiming her mouth. The buzzing of his phone rips them apart as he scrambles to silence it before Morgan wakes. They both look back at the sleeping child, her slumber unaffected by the disturbance.
"That was Emma," Robin sighs, tucking his phone back in his pocket. He grimaces reluctantly. "Duty calls."
Regina nods and stifles a yawn. "Be careful," she can't help but warn. Robin promises he will, leans in for one more kiss, and tells her he loves her before cautiously opening the car door and closing it with a quiet click.
Regina exhales slowly as she watches him walk back into the station. A quick glance in the rearview tells her Morgan is still fast asleep and finally exhaustion is brewing behind her own eyes. She pulls out of the parking lot slowly and heads for home, leaving her worries at the station door.
Morgan stirs slightly as Regina lifts her from her carseat and fidgets when they ascend the stairs to the nursery. Regina sits down in the rocking chair for good measure, letting the soothing motion lull her daughter back into a deep sleep. She has no hesitation when it comes to loving this precious little girl, even if others refuse to see their relationship for what it is- a mother and a daughter. She shouldn't have worried, she realizes now. Her love for Morgan is not tied to her love for Robin. It is it's own bright, uncontainable ball of warmth and light. And she'll damn anyone who tries to take her sunshine away.