Chapter 25- Stone Cold Slytherin
A/N: Thank you to all of you that reviewed! I can't believe I am now officially over 100 followers and 100 reviews! To comment on the guest review, it is not a compulsory test in the US, but doctors here have a tendency to over-test. The way I was thinking when I wrote it, the doctor gave it to them as an option, but they interpreted it as a recommendation.
Early one afternoon, just after finishing her lunch, Robin hears someone knocking at the door. She wonders who it could be, because she is sure that Barney gave the doorman strict instructions not to let anyone up to the apartment that wasn't one of the other four friends, who had keys and could come and go as they pleased. She decides to ignore it, because it must be some sort of mistake. The knocking continues, and turns into banging. She really doesn't want to get out of bed, especially since it probably isn't important. But the banging continues for the next 5 minutes. It is either someone extremely important or someone that knows she is here, and frankly, she is tired of it. She grabs her cell and one of her guns out of the nightstand, just in case the person is an intruder, and slowly starts creeping to the door.
"Who is it?" she asks, while removing the safety from the gun and pointing it towards the door.
"It's your father," the strong voice replies.
"Damn it," she mutters under her breath, quickly putting the safety back on and laying the gun down on the table behind the couch. She rushes over to the door and opens to it find her father on the other side, holding a gift of some sort.
"Dad," she asks surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"It's rude to keep someone waiting for so long you know. Could you not hear me?" he castigates as he pushes his way in the door.
"I could hear you just fine," Robin answers sarcastically, "but since Barney and I specifically told the doorman not to let anyone up here during the day, I was sure that there was nothing important here."
"Oh you mean that effeminate little boy in the lobby?" her father questions mockingly.
"Yes, and he is a man," she replies as calmly as she can. She really is not in the mood for this today. She will easily end up with stress levels through the roof, which can't be good for the baby.
"He's quite easy to intimidate. He caved and left me up here in less than a minute," he smirks proudly.
"So what are you doing here, exactly?" she demands. "And how did you know I was home?"
"I had to come see for myself if that picture you sent me could be true, and it looks like it is. I dropped by your office first, and they said you were on leave," he answers arrogantly. "I guess you've softened up and forgotten everything I've ever taught you. You shouldn't be here at home, you should be out working. You're tough. You're a Scherbatsky."
"Dad, I am tough," she replies as best as she can without showing the hurt on her face. She is strong, she thinks. Strong because she can give up her whole life to sit in bed all day for her child, but that's not anything that he would ever understand. "It's the baby that's not. I am under strict medical orders not to get out of bed, which as you can see," she starts to raise her voice, feeling the anger boiling up inside her, "I did anyway because you overpowered our doorman. Now I am going to go put myself back in bed and not get up again."
She storms back to the bedroom, and climbs into the bed. She manages to send a quick text to Barney before her father follows her into the bedroom, because she doesn't think that she can take any more of this alone.
SOS
'Something's wrong with the baby,' is Barney's reaction when he checks the text on his phone. He thinks that this can't be happening, and he runs out of his office in a panic. Fortunately, there is a cab right outside of GNB, and he is able to skip the run home and avoid those evil busses. But the whole time, all he can think of is that the baby might be gone.
"What have I told you about leaving guns around the house?" Robin Sr. starts to criticize as soon as he enters the bedroom. "It's like I taught you nothing. Nothing!"
"I just got that out," she says with contempt dripping from her voice. "I wasn't sure you weren't an intruder."
"Why would I be an intruder?" He's irritated. She can see it. She can hear it in his voice.
"You spent over five minutes banging on my front door," she says sternly.
"Because I knew you were in here."
"Doesn't make it any less insane, Dad."
"Maybe I should take my gift back home."
Now she's mad. This needs to end here. "Dad. Stop."
Her father looks at her and ponders the anger on her face for a few moments. "No, you're right, it's for my grandson. And here I was thinking that I was never going to get a grandson." She rolls her eyes. Things never change.
"We don't know what it is yet dad," she says, a hand pressed to her forehead, trying to stay calm, "and we won't for a while."
"That doesn't matter. I can feel it's a boy," he announces with such confidence that Robin starts to sink. The memories of her childhood start flooding back, and she is not sure how to handle it.
She chooses to ignore him, because really, she has no idea what it is. She some days she thinks it's a boy, other days she thinks it's a girl. She could see it going either way. One time it's a little blonde boy in adorable tiny suits that make the little sock that she once drooled over seem like nothing. Other times it's a little, curly, brown haired girl, running around in dresses and painting her nails, because she is a girl and that is what girls are supposed to do.
She had been looking forward to finding out the sex of the baby, but now that he's here, and said what he said about a grandson, she isn't so sure. What if it's a girl, and her daughter has to go through the same crap that she did? Yes, she and Barney would love her to death, but it still wouldn't be the same, because for some strange reason, she wants her dad involved in her child's life.
"Please don't get disappointed if it isn't a boy, though," she pleads, knowing there probably is nothing she can do to change her father's mind, but she still hopes. "There is just as good of a chance that it's a girl."
"Ok, RJ," he replies not really listening to what she is saying.
"Please don't call me that. We've been over this."
"Sorry, Robin," he retorts sarcastically. "How long until that grandson of mine makes his appearance?"
"Dad!" It slips out of her mouth before she can stop it. She knows there is no sense in arguing.
"What?"
"Never mind. About 5 months."
Thankfully, the awkwardness of the conversation ends suddenly with the sound of Barney running in the front door.
"Robin? Robin? Is everything ok? What's wrong?" he shouts as he approaches. He turns the corner of the room and sees Robin Sr. and stops dead in his tracks. "Oh, hello Mr. Scherbatsky," he greets him calmly, turning on his usual charm.
Robin eyes him from the bed, and they have a telepathic conversation.
"What's going on here?" he asks with his eyes.
"He just showed up. I couldn't just kick him out."
"So nothing's wrong with the baby?"
"Nope, except maybe genitalia."
"Of course." He rolls his eyes. He should have been expecting that one.
"Yep. Set on a grandson."
"And you tried explaining that it could be either?"
"No." She hopes he can sense the sarcasm, and rolls her eyes back at him. "Of course I did. It didn't work. I really need you to get him out of here. I'm stressing out."
"I'll try, but you know how stubborn he is."
"What are you doing here?" Barney asks calmly, because someone in this conversation needs to be the calm one.
"Well, son, I was just here to congratulate you and your wife on the son," Robin Sr. says nonchalantly.
"Not necessarily a boy," Barney mumbles.
"But I brought something for the baby to offer my congratulations," Robin Sr. says as he hands Robin the gift.
She opens it, and tries not to cry as she pulls out the small, brown, stuffed beaver. Despite her father's annoying presence, the gift is one of the most thoughtful things that he ever has done for her.
"Thank you Dad," she says sweetly. Barney can see her caving, and while he agrees that it was a nice gesture, he is still not sure how much longer he wants him to be there, especially with how he treated her today. Robin is under enough stress as it is.
"Now, I must go. Keep me informed on how he is doing," Robin Sr. declares.
"Ok dad. I will," she says sweetly, still overwhelmed by the gift.
"I'll walk you out," Barney says, wanting him to leave as fast as possible. Even though he can have a conversation and play laser tag with the man, he still doesn't like the way he treats Robin, even though he has apparently come a long way.
When Robin hears the door close, with her father on the other side, she yells out, "Barney? Can you get the gun from the sword table?" Gun from the sword table? What was she doing with a gun out?
"Uhhh, yeah," he yells back, with an air of confusion to his tone.
He finds it quickly, checks that the safety is on, and carefully carries it back to the bedroom.
"What exactly were you doing with a gun?" he questions.
"He was banging on the door for like five minutes straight. I wanted to make sure it wasn't some intruder," Robin says indifferently, shrugging her shoulders.
"How long were you up?" He is still incredibly worried that her father's impromptu visit put the baby in danger.
"Less than 5 minutes. Don't worry. We're ok," she declares, wanting to put the rest of the afternoon behind her.
"You sure?" he asks, the fear still behind his eyes. "That text terrified me."
"Sorry. I didn't mean for that to scare you," she says somberly. "I just wanted you to come home and get him out of here."
"I know. It's ok. Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're ok," he replies, sitting down on the bed next to her and giving her a hug. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, not really," she responds meekly. He is silent as he waits for her to continue, knowing she wants to vent about it. "I just don't get it," she starts. "Why can't he just accept the fact that things don't always turn out the way he wants them to. I didn't care up until today whether or not this baby is a boy or a girl. And now I find myself wanting a boy, just because it would be easier. I swore I wasn't going to care about this. I don't want to care about this. I'm happy there is a baby at all. But now he is making me want things, just like he did, and I don't want to, Barney, I don't want to at all." He watches her with rapture. He wasn't expecting her to spill quite that much. It makes sense with her childhood, that it would bother her to want a boy or a girl over the other.
"There isn't a part of you that wants one or the other?" he asks cautiously, knowing it is a sore subject.
"No," she states resolutely.
"You mean you've never pictured a boy or a girl?"
"There was one time I pictured both. A girl with long brown hair and a boy in a suit," she replies meekly, thinking of the time on the park bench. She wonders if this child will grow up to look like either of those children she imagined.
The thought warmed his heart. Their children.
"But I've never picked one over the other," she continues. "There is no way I could ever do that."
"I always thought it would be a girl," Barney declares, interrupting her long train of thought.
"A girl?" She is surprised. She always thought he would want a boy. "Why a girl?"
"Because I didn't realize how much I needed you until you were a part of my life. And same thing with the baby. I just figured it would be another girl that would steal my heart."
"Barney," she utters, so completely touched by his thought.
"But I would love a boy just as much. It doesn't matter to me either. If it's a boy, I can always dress him up in suits, but you showed me that I can just as easily teach a girl to play laser tag and appreciate Star Wars," she looks up at him worried for a quick second before he adds, "but as a girl of course."
"That is so sweet of you to say," she says while leaning in to give him a hug. "How do you always know exactly how to cheer me up?"
"It's my new thing. And honestly Robin, if he doesn't want to accept his granddaughter just because she is a girl, then it's his loss, because she will have plenty of family that loves her. And she will always know deep down that her grandfather loves her, because he gave her the first stuffed animal, the one she is going to refuse to sleep without." The sweetness in his words, as well as the words, make her start to cry.
"These damn hormones," she mumbles trying to cover it up the tears.
"You don't have to be embarrassed about crying in front of me. I know you need to get rid of all that extra awesome somehow. I mean you have already almost lethal doses of awesome in you just on your own, and then to add our awesome squared, it's a wonder you haven't spontaneously combusted," he says in the way he used to spout all of his dating theories, and she can't help but giggle.
"Awesome squared," she laughs. "I like that."
"Yes!" he exclaims. "We should get a sign for the nursery! Awesome times awesome equals baby!"
"Awesome baby," she mumbles to herself with a huge smile on her face, while rubbing the growing bump. Barney barely hears her, but he wants her to know he agrees.
"Yeah. Awesome baby."
9/4/14
I've spent most of my life trying to gain my father's approval, and trying to live up to the ridiculous expectations that he expected of me. I know that he is at least part of my original decision to not become a mother. I had always thought that I was too damaged from my horrible childhood. Now, however, I realize that my experience as a child will help me be a better mother. I've learned what not to do.
So needless to say, to have my father show up on my doorstep this week was a shock. His excitement over his grandson was not. He always wanted a son, which is something neither my sister nor I are. Because I wasn't a boy, it was always ridiculously difficult to live up to his expectations. Of course, now he thinks that my place on earth is to give him his grandson. I'm not sure what he will do if the baby is a girl.
I've thought about it, and I really don't care what the baby is. I know it's a cliché, and most women say that, but I really do not. I could be happy either way, and I don't want to put the same constraints on my relationship with my child as my father did with me. In a way, it would be easier for me if it is a boy, but I know there is nothing I can do to change it. Plus, I think having a girl might be fun.
No matter what happens, I hope that my father can stay just as serious in his role of a grandparent, because as much as he may have made my life difficult, I just can't imagine depriving my child of family. The great thing is that I will be there to love and guide him or her, so his negativity can be outweighed by the love of my husband and I. I just hope that in his heart, he can accept this baby for what it is, his grandchild, who will love him no matter what.