A/N: …six drafts later. Happy Monday!
5.
Before
The heartburn comes and goes as it pleases but, thankfully, it doesn't seem as bad as some of the dramatic posts she's read online. A nurse has told her that she can take generic, over the counter medications to keep it at bay. And it does, to an extent.
She is sitting at her kitchen table eating a bowl of yogurt—an at home remedy recommended by the same online post—when she hears a thud upstairs. It sounds like Henry and the shepherd are damaging, rather than assembling the crib upstairs in the second guest bedroom turned storage room turned nursery. Boys will be boys, she deduces when their laughter echoes down the stairs, and turns her attention back to her new copy of What to Expect When You're Expecting.
Another thud.
Regina shakes her head and swallows another spoonful of yogurt as she circles a rather interesting comment in the book. She makes a mental note to mention it to Whale at her next appointment. She finishes off the yogurt and feels her baby make a sudden movement inside of the womb. She's felt him move often since her twentieth week of pregnancy. The internet calls it quickening but she is pretty certain that she just felt a kick.
"Can't catch a break with you Charming's, huh?" she smiles down at her stomach, gives it a quick rub.
Not even thirty minutes later, she hears Henry bound down the stairs, a panicked, "Mom!", escapes his lips. And David—his footfalls are heavier— is not too far behind. And when they appear in the kitchen a moment later, the older man has his right hand closed tightly into a fist with his left hand covering it with a vice grip.
"David hurt himself really bad," Henry says.
She raises an eyebrow as she pushes her book aside and walks over to access the damage. By the look of his face—lower lip sucked between his teeth, eyes squeezed shut and opening wide when he forces them back open again—the shepherd is clearly in pain. She lets her eyes drop to his hands and her own eyes grow wide. And she pinches the sleeve of his flannel shirt between her fingers and pulls him over to the… "Sink!" He follows because she doesn't give him much choice. Then she calls out to Henry, over her shoulder, and asks him to go and grab the first aid kit. He nods and runs off to get it.
They didn't plan anything with Henry this weekend and since he spent most of the week with her, she decided it was only fair David got to keep him this weekend. And as much as she misses her son when he's away from her, she was anticipating a quiet Sunday catching up on well needed rest. Running a town is one thing but running a town while pregnant can take quite the toll when you start forgetting things. She is now a believer of pregnancy brain. Reading was also on her list of things to do today, though, for the better part of an hour she has been reading and re-reading the same page over and over again.
Her doorbell rang shortly after ten this morning and there were her son and his grandfather standing on her front porch. She would never turn Henry away. And she'd already mentioned to the shepherd that she would need his help getting the crib and changing table down from the attic eventually. Since she can't use her magic and she and Henry can't do it on their own. He is her only option.
Bringing down the furniture—David does all of the hands-on work while Henry "assists"— turned into a break. The break turned into Henry teaching David how to play a card game with rainbow numbers. Which turned into a superhero movie binge, that led to her going to Granny's. Where she was greeted by the young wolf, ooh, picking up lunch for the boys? The three of them ate together in the living room, her with a homemade salad, burgers for the boys. After lunch, Henry and David went back upstairs to get back to work putting the furniture together. And now, the father of her unborn son is bleeding all over her kitchen.
"What did you do to yourself, shepherd?" she asks. He winces when she turns on the faucet to rinse his bleeding wound and she mumbles an apology, switches the water from hot to cold. He explains how he mishandled a hammer and his hand somehow ended up wedged between the metal stint that helps to hold the mattress and the wood post of the crib. And the only way to remove it was to pull his hand away. Henry returns with the first aid kit and asks if David is going to need stitches.
"No, Henry," she says. The bleeding has pretty much stopped. "He won't need stitches. I don't even think you'll need to go to the hospital, shepherd. A simple bandage will do."
She cleans the wound with soap first and then applies antiseptic before placing a dark blue bandage over the wound. He'll have a scar later, but she won't dare try a healing spell after nearly blacking out fixing his truck that one time. Without magic, this is the best she can do. She lets go of his hand in a much more dramatic way than she anticipates. So used to seeing only Henry in those bandages, she nearly picks up David's hand and kiss the bandage and make it better. Damn, pregnancy brain.
"All better," she says.
"Thank you," David says. "How'd you know how to do that?"
"I do have a ten-year-old boy," she answers as she washes her hands. She often forgets that he slept for most of his time outside of the Enchanted Forest and still is trying to learn the new things of this realm. Then she nods at his bloody shirt, "Off."
David raises an eyebrow.
"I can't have you leaving the Evil Queen's house in a bloody shirt, now, can I?" She tells him that there is one of the Huntsman's old jackets in the hall closet that he can wear until the wash and dry cycles are complete.
The shepherd makes no move to leave even after the dryer stops. Henry has already decided to stay tonight and has retired to his room. David is sitting on her sofa squinting at her pregnancy book. She guesses he's still here because he doesn't want to go back to the loft alone. He and Henry—mostly him—made decent progress today with the furniture. She's sure he will be back sometime this week to finish up, if his hand allows.
It's been two weeks since she went to him at the loft and invited him to take this journey with her. And almost one since Henry has told her that David has been sad recently. Talking like he doesn't believe Emma and Snow are coming back. It is a conversation that the two of them still need to have—what if Snow and Emma never come back? But more importantly, what do they tell them if they do return. She is not sure if she is ready to have thatconversation, but the shepherd is here now, and their baby may very well be born when his wife and daughter return.
"Do you think we'll get them back?" David asks.
She nods, doesn't even have to think about it. She doesn't have enough luck in the world to be rid of Snow White for good. There is a feeling deep in her gut that the princess turned bandit will make her way back to Storybrooke.
"Yes, shepherd, I believe you will."
He nods. Then adds, "Why do you call me, shepherd?"
"It's what you are, is it not?"
She stands behind him on the couch, peers over his shoulder and notes that he is on chapter two of the book. She picks imaginary lint from the throw blanket he threw over her naked body all those weeks ago that now drapes the back of the couch.
"How does your hand feel?" she asks when he doesn't respond.
"Hurts like hell," he attempts to wiggle his fingers as much as he can. The bandage traps the movements of his thumb and pointer finger.
"Did you take the Tylenol I gave you?"
"Yes, doctor."
She rubs at her chest, and it causes alarm with him. He has been very attentive to her since he saw the ultrasound photo of their baby. Jumps into action when she so much as coughs. She knows without a doubt that when she does eventually go into labor, he will be the one who panics.
"It's just heartburn," she tells him. "I'll be fine in an hour or two."
They settle into easy conversation after that. Should he never get his family back, they will continue their shared "custody" of Henry and their baby. About the conversation with Snow when she does come back, he tells her to let me handle it. They talk about how they are going to deal with whoever is trying to speak to Henry through his dreams—another thing she wanted to do today and completely forgot about. They settle on going to Gold's shop one day during the week and see what he suggests. He tells her that he'll be back before the weekend to finish putting together the furniture in the nursery. She nods and squirms when the baby…tumbles? It is the only word she can find do describe it.
"Does he move a lot?"
"He's starting to," she says.
She makes a mental note to, at one of her upcoming appointments, confirm the gender so David can know for sure that their baby is in fact a son. He stares at her long and hard, her stomach, and she knows he wants to touch it, to feel their baby. But she doesn't think she is ready for that yet. And he doesn't ask.
"I'll see you later," David says. And he is out of the door before she realizes that he forgot his shirt. She runs to the laundry room to grab it.
"David, wait!" she makes it to the porch with the shirt but all she sees is the taillights of his pickup truck as it disappears down the road.
After, in three parts
Accusation
"Archie's dead."
Her mind is still heavy with sleep as she stands behind David in the foyer of her home, peering around him at his daughter who is standing on the porch. She blinks as she tries to gauge the conversation between father and daughter. Tries to figure out what it is that they are very clearly arguing about. It hasn't even been ten minutes since he woke her up with a gentle shake of the shoulder. It is too early for this.
She narrows her eyes when her son's biological mother points an unmanicured index finger in her direction and states, "Ruby saw Regina with Archie outside of his office yesterday." David shifts his weight from one leg to the other and glances over his shoulder to look at her. She rubs at her chest; heartburn settling in, and she tries to remember what exactly she ate for dinner last night. Then, she remembers David and gives him a nod to let him know that she's okay.
"You think that I had something to do with it?" She asks.
"She had an appointment with him yesterday," David says.
"Pongo led us to his body," Emma says. "We're going to look through his memories. Get the truth. If there's anything you want to tell me, now's the time to—"
Regina rolls her eyes. "Can I at least brush my teeth and change my clothes? Before I entertain…whatever this is, Miss Swan?"
Emma throws up her hands in mock surrender and tells her yes, of course. Then adds, I'm on your side. We just want the truth. She has a feeling there is more to the we than just the savior and her mother.
Her plan to entertain her accusers, prove her innocence, and be home before breakfast proves to be futile when the dog's memories confirm their suspicions. She knows it's not her in the video, that she had no reason to kill him. But her former stepdaughter and her right-hand dwarf, Grumpy, still see too much bad in her to give her the benefit of doubt. She will always be the Evil Queen in their eyes.
"That woman is pure evil," Snow White says. "She killed Archie, David. And she needs to be locked up."
"You will not lock her up," David says, and it is not lost upon her that he said you and not we. He does not group himself with his wife and daughter, who stands by her desk unsure of what to do, who to believe, and the rest of their town's citizens. How quickly they all turned on her.
"It's fine, David," Regina says.
"No, it's not fine."
She believes the people of Storybrooke would burn her at the stake if she weren't pregnant. But she is glad they granted her the mercy of not doing this in front of the prying eyes of everyone in town, in front or her son. So, she sits in the uncomfortable metal chair beside Emma's desk and doesn't say a thing more.
If they had watched the video closely, they would be able to tell that the Regina in Archie's office is not pregnant. Does not waddle (a phrase that she has threatened David's life for using). And she most certainly, doesn't own that shade of lipstick. They clearly saw what they wanted to see.
"I'm so sorry, Regina."
"Save it, Miss Swan."
She has more pressing things to worry about. Her mother is here. In Storybrooke. Not the realm she banished her to all those years ago. The old maid has finally come for her. And she scolds herself for not putting it together sooner. There was a reason she was so on edge in Archie's office. Her mother is, and likely will always be the only person that can have her so on edge. She tamps down the sudden urge to burn everything down.
Conundrum
David walks in on her in the bathroom. She stands there, stark naked as the day she came crying into the world. His cheeks and neck turn a dangerous shade of red as his eyes snap up from her swollen breasts to her face. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, and she tells him just that with a smirk. She has never been one to hide her body, has always known its effect on men. But slips her silk robe onto her shoulders any way, if only to stop him from folding in on himself. He tells her that Henry is on the phone and wants to talk to her as she applies under eye cream to her recently washed face. She tells him that she will be out in a minute.
She feels a tightening in her chest as he retreats. He stayed again last night but she has a feeling that he would have stayed anyway, without the threat of Cora. She does not have the heart to tell him that her mother came to her. Told her that the only reason she framed her for Archie's murder was to show her that none of those people cared about her.
How quickly they all turned.
She still hates her for what she did to Daniel, will never forgive her for that. And is glad that she made Emma promise to take Henry as far away from this town as possible. Her mother does not deserve to know a soul as kind as is.
"Don't come near me," she warned her mother. "What are you doing here, mother?"
"Look at you," Cora smiled, but it lacked warmth, did not reach her eyes. And she wanted nothing more than to scream and cry. But most importantly, she wanted to flee. To put as much distance between herself—her baby—and this cold, vindictive woman. "A baby…with Snow White's prince."
Of course, she knew.
Cora always fucking knows.
And that is the problem she needs to solve. So, she sits alone at Granny's and eats scrambled eggs and toast to fuel her brain. She is not sure when Snow White takes up residence in the seat across from her in the booth, but she looks up and she is there. There is a collective tension buzzing through the semi-crowded diner as other patrons hold their breath. They have already had their little confrontation and she will not waste any more energy on this little girl. And it is completely lost on her when her former stepdaughter gives her a speech about a mother's love, second chances. I'm fighting for my family. It's not too late to save her, she's still your mother. Yes, unfortunately.
A baby…with Snow White's prince. Her blood runs cold.
"Snow," she says, pushing her plate away. "Where is David?"
"I…I expected to find him here with you."
There is a short list of people she loves, and she is not sure where she would place her mother on it. There is an even shorter list of those she cares deeply for. And the shepherd—though he hasn't been the shepherd in a long, long time—has climbed his way to the top.
It hits her with a vicious clarity when she walks upstairs, to his rented room at Granny's, Snow not too far behind. There is a swaddled teddy bear resting against the pillows of the bed. He has been taking their impromptu lessons seriously. And all she wants is to see his heart, to see how pure, how red it is. She will never forgive herself if any harm were to come to him at the hands of her mother. If her baby never got the chance to meet his father.
"Mother, stop," she finds them in Rumple's shop. She does not question why her mother brought David there of all places nor does she care. He appears to be unharmed but there is a blank expression on his face. She is not sure why until Snow runs over to him and exclaims, his heart!
She nearly vomits.
"My heart for his," Cora says.
She takes her mother to her vault, relinquishes her heart without thought and it is an even exchange. Though she does not expect, as she accepts David's heart with her left hand and inserts her mother's back into her chest with her right, to watch the woman collapse onto the ground. She knows that Snow has something to do with this but all she cares to do right now is put David's heart back where it belongs.
Sanctuary
She enters her ninth month of pregnancy a different woman than when it was confirmed. Thirty-six weeks to the day. Two hundred and fifty-two days of growing her baby boy. And, while this is something that she never wants to experience again, she embraces it with her whole being. The changes—some permanent, some not so—to her body. Her larger thighs and breasts, the stretchmarks. All of those uncomfortable nights when she couldn't find the best position to sleep in with her growing belly. The aches and pains that come with growing a small human. She would not change it for the world.
"What about this one?" David asks. He is sitting up on his knees a few feet away from her—she can reach out and touch him if she chooses—rummaging through a pile of recently washed and dried baby clothes. The maroon footsie he holds against his chest looks tiny. It has a convenient zippered closure with sleeves that fold over to cover the hands. Henry gifted it to her when he returned from New York with Emma. This is totally you, Mom, he said. There is a black knotted hat to wear with it.
She nods, stifles a yawn. "I like that one."
She's put off packing her hospital bag for so long now. And while she hopes baby boy doesn't make his appearance for another four weeks as expected, she wants to be prepared just in case. David had been so excited when she told him about her evening plans—about picking out his son's clothes—that she left out the part that she planned on doing it alone. David places it in the bag along with a receiving that is white with gray and blue sheep all over it.
"I got that because of you," she says, biting into a square of chocolate. So far, her efforts to coax the baby into moving by tapping her fingers against her stomach have failed. He doesn't move as much anymore, and Whale explained that it's because he's running out of room in there. He is being very stubborn today, but the little kick of sugar gives him a boost of energy.
"You haven't called me shepherd in a long time," he smiles.
"Aw," she lets her head fall back against the couch, closes her eyes. "Do you miss it when I call you shepherd?"
He only laughs. She hears him move around a little, tossing this here, stacking that there. Him pausing to text. The bag zipping closed. When she opens her eyes, he is standing in the middle of the room, or as near to it as he can with the coffee table. She knows that he's thinking what she's thinking.
This is where it all began. This is where they took the brunt of the fall. She still remembers the moment she lost herself in heat of it all. The moment their eyes locked, and they had every opportunity in the world to stop right then, right there. But she pulled her shirt over her head and threw it somewhere and his followed not too far behind.
Something falls upstairs and she hears Henry call out a sorry, mom! She blinks away the thoughts of what followed, watches as David swallows. He offers to help her up and she is glad that she doesn't have to ask. She would've sat there all night if she had to. The though causes her to chuckle. No wonder her baby is so stubborn.
David pulls her into a hug. It is more unexpected than unwelcome and she's not sure what to do with her arms. I'm going to head out, he tells her, but he makes no move to let her go. And she finds herself melting into his warmth, hooking her arms under his shoulders—or as best she can—to hug him back.
"Good night, Regina."
"Goodnight, shepherd."
to be continued