TW: Discussions of rape (Non-violent and not described as such, but through coercive control), brief mentions of blood, medical procedures and dark descriptions of violence.

Alex had seen Norma Bates in some states before but this was something else entirely. He opened his door one Saturday afternoon to find her hyperventilating on his doorstep, pale-faced and mascara-streaked, looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes.

"Norma. Jesus," he muttered, glancing around behind her for signs of danger before wrapping his hand around her upper arm and tugging her into his house, feeling her stumble as she numbly allowed him to pull her in.

"I'm in trouble," she whispered as he slammed the door closed behind her, pushing her gently towards the couch.

"I gathered," he said quietly, leading a borderline catatonic Norma Bates to sit down, watching her heave in great, shuddering, panicked breaths, perching awkwardly beside her, suddenly feeling very nervous in her presence. Something had been growing between them not so long ago, their awkward hug and her kiss on his cheek still feeling very recent, their budding romance stomped on by Bob Paris's vicious revelations, Alex still feeling a pang of guilt over the argument he and Norma had had in this very room after Bob had driven a wedge between them. They'd barely seen each other since, not since he'd yelled at her, and pushed her against the wall, and wanted to kiss her, and she'd begged him not to touch her. Things had been frosty - no more flirty banter, no more drunk phonecalls and invitations to dinner, only a curt nod as they'd passed in the grocery store, like they were little more than strangers. Which is why Alex was so baffled to have her back in his living room, staring vacantly at his coffee table, silent tears streaming down her blotchy face, her silence unnerving Alex as he stared at her.

"What's wrong?" He asked quietly and she jumped like she'd forgotten he was there. She tugged at her cardigan sleeves absentmindedly, an old habit from childhood that had continued well into adulthood, used to hiding bruises and scratches when she felt this numb. The movement did not go unnoticed by Alex who reached for her without thinking, recognising the motions from his years in interview rooms, sliding both sleeves back slightly, searching for marks that weren't there. She watched him, simply letting him examine her, turning her hands over, looking for bruises, before his eyes darted all around her face.

"Someone hurt you?" He said, his voice low and dark, relief flooding through him as she shook her head. He placed her hands back in her lap, desperately wanting to hold her hand but feeling unable to keep hold of it, like she was sand slipping through his fingers.

"Then tell me what's wrong," he commanded sharply, and fresh tears sprung to her eyes, shaking her head like she didn't know what to say.

"I've really... I've really fucked up this time, Alex," she said tearfully, meeting his eye for a moment before immediately looking away, his piercing gaze feeling too much. She slumped forwards, leaning her elbows on her knees, twisting her hands together nervously, carrying on when he didn't say anything.

"Someone... someone found out. The truth..." She trailed off, casting him a desperate look, and upset as she was, he wasn't about to let her off that easily, gazing back at her impassively, waiting for her to explain though he already knew. "About what happened... to my husband," she finished simply, and he almost gasped at the implied honesty in what she was saying, finally confirming, in a roundabout way at least what he already knew.

She began to cry again, soft whimpers escaping from her, and he jumped up from the couch, knowing he would be unable to stop himself reaching out to hold her if he stayed sat a second longer, instead heading to the other side of the room, reaching for the decanter of scotch, pouring two crystal tumblers with large measures and heading back to her, half grateful, half worried that her tears seemed to have stopped, Norma returning to the blank staring. He handed her the drink and she took it with numb hands, barely registering it, giving a small nod of thanks, wrapping her free arm around herself.

"He was going to tell," she said, her voice tiny like a child's and Alex turned away from her slightly, watching her surreptitiously in the reflection of his television, watching the black mirror version of Norma swallow and take a deep breath. "I did what I had to," she said, her voice firmer, more resolute, like she was trying to convince herself, not him. Alex considered for a moment before a thought dawned on him.

"Norma?"

She was silent, staring at the wall, not answering him.

"Have you killed someone?"

She spluttered out a shocked laugh in spite of herself, chuckling mirthlessly.

"No. That would be much simpler," she muttered darkly.

Alex was silent, taking a sip of his drink, watching her vacantly glaze over again.

"He said... He said he wouldn't tell anyone if I... If I..." She trailed off, her voice thick with tears, huffing out a dark laugh. "I didn't kill him. I slept with him," she clarified, her face burning pink with shame, turning away from him, pressing her cheek against her shoulder.

This wasn't new information to Alex, Bob Paris's cruel taunts rattling around his head, bristling at the thought of Norma with another man, though he knew he had no right to feel that way. They'd been barely flirting, Alex building up the courage to ask her on a date when Bob had informed him of the circumstances of her husband's death, casually throwing in she'd been sleeping with her therapist at the same time, killing Norma and Alex's fledgling flirtation before it even began.

"Your therapist?" He blurted out and she flicked her head to gaze at him with a gasp.

"How do you know about James?"

"I just... It doesn't matter..." He gritted his teeth. He knew she'd slept with him, but he didn't know extortion had been part of the deal, feeling his hand balling into a fist, his other raising the glass to his lips, taking a long drink, relishing the burn. "Where does he live? I'll go-"

He was cut off by her shaking her head, letting out a frantic little sound, drawing his attention, unconsciously matching his body language by raising her own glass to her lips and taking a long drink. In a split second, he watched recognition cross her face, her mouth full of whiskey, her eyes widening before she suddenly lifted the glass back up and spat the mouthful back into the glass.

A beat passed.

"Jesus, Norma," he muttered, his mouth falling open, watching her face crumple as he snatched the glass from her hand and placed it on his coffee table, rubbing his hand across his mouth.

"You're-?"

"Yeah," she confirmed tearfully.

She quietly cried next to him for a moment and he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her, breathing hard.

"I don't know what I can..." He started, his voice growing thick. "Do you need... What do you need, Norma?" He was about to offer her money, thinking how cold and crass that would sound, unsure of what she could possibly want from him in this situation. He knew from his contacts that James had left town, wondering if she was asking him to track him down for her, unsure of anything else she could want from him right now.

"I can probably find James for y-"

"Alex!" She cut him off with something akin to a wail, pressing her face into her hands. "You don't... you don't understand," she sobbed out. "He knew all about my husband," she cried, muffled from behind her hands. "He already knew! And he said he'd tell. He threatened my son!" She sobbed helplessly and Alex felt a chill run through him as the truth dawned on him slowly and then all at once. "He threatened to put Norman away unless I... If I didn't-"

Alex almost didn't dare verbalise the thought he was having as he stared helplessly at Norma, watching her lean forwards, burying her face in her hands, every word muffled and tearful from behind her hands.

"Norma..." He whispered. "Whose baby is this?" He asked softly, thought he feared he already knew the answer.

She pushed herself up on shaking hands, her hands rubbing roughly through her hair, slowly dragging her gaze up to meet his.

"You know who. Don't make me say it," she said weakly, and he shook his head immediately.

"I need you to tell me."

"It's Bob Paris's-" she breathed out, and he suddenly pressed her back against the cushions, his movements abrupt but not at all rough, pressing his hand gently over her mouth, shaking his head furiously at her.

"That's the first and last time you ever say that," he commanded and she looked terrified, Alex removing the hand from her mouth immediately, but leaving his body leaning lightly against hers, pressing her back against the side of his couch.

"Why?! Is he gonna kill me?" She squeaked out, and he watched her hand curl down protectively to her abdomen, flicking his gaze back up to meet hers, trying to soften the panicked look in his eye. Yes, he thought. He would kill her in a heartbeat if he thought she was carrying his baby. But he tried to form a less terrifying response to soothe her.

"You're keeping it?" He blurted out instead, cursing himself for his bluntness in the face of her fear, watching her panting and crying.

"I... erm... I don't want his baby but I just... I don't think I can get rid of it," she whispered, her face burning with shame and he regretted asking his question so abruptly, his hands curling around her shoulders, forcing her to look at him, almost wanting to give her a shake but also understanding her words. While he supported her right to choose, he was raised Catholic and he understood her reluctance, meeting her eye, feeling helpless.

"Oh God," she sighed out, her hopelessness evident, her quiet crying suddenly eclipsed by heavy, helpless sobbing, loud cries wracking her body, and he could no longer hold back, wrapping her up in his arms.

"Why do I pick such bad dads for my kids?" She wailed against his neck, her fingers clutching at his shirt and he sighed at his ceiling, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other wrapping around her back.

"It's ok," he murmured, though he knew it was anything but. "I'll-" He had been about to say he would protect her, but all bets were off when it came to Bob Paris. He couldn't babysit her day and night. Especially not pregnant and vulnerable.

"It's mine," he announced suddenly, and she tensed in his arms.

"What?"

"It's mine. It's my baby."

She tried to pull back, trying to look him in the eye but he held her against him even as she struggled slightly, needing to not be looking at her right now. She spluttered in shock.

"What are you-"

"Bob Paris is a dangerous and powerful man. Even if he was... gone," - the word lingered heavily in the air for a moment and he felt her gulp, knowing what he meant, knowing it meant he would kill him for her in a heartbeat. "If anyone - ANYONE - knew this baby was his, well, there'd be no way I could keep you safe."

She trembled in his arms, suddenly feeling impossibly small.

"Even if Bob Paris didn't get to you, there are plenty of people who would take out Bob Paris's unborn child to get back at him. He's made a lot of powerful enemies over the years." As he was speaking, he felt one of her hands slide down from where it was grasping at his shirt to curl around her stomach again, her body language turning protective and tense.

"Are you trying to scare me?" She breathed out in a tiny voice.

"No, Norma," he said quietly, clutching her head against his shoulder. "I'm trying to protect you. We'll say it's mine. I-"

She suddenly lurched away from him, jerking herself from his grip, sucking in a sharp breath.

"You can't do that!" She announced shrilly, staring at his living room floor, her thumb nail firmly in her mouth. "It's too much."

"I'll decide what's too much, Norma," he said decisively, desperately wanting to touch her again but not daring to yet.

"If you think for one second I'm gonna let Bob Paris or any of the other kingpins of this town hurt you or that baby, you can think again. You don't wanna pretend it's mine? Fine. I'll still take care of you but I'll have a hell of a harder time than if you just let me say it's m-"

He was cut off as a sudden, almost hysterical laugh burst out of Norma, shaking her head incredulously.

"He said you'd be done with me," she announced, and Alex screwed up his face, waiting for her to elaborate.

"Bob," she added simply. "I don't think he ever even wanted me, to be honest. I think he just wanted... I think he just wanted to take something from you," she explained quietly, her face burning with shame. Alex went to speak but she cut him off. "He... he said he'd tell everyone unless I did what he wanted. I didn't have a choice." For a heart-breaking second, it sounded like she was trying to justify herself to him. "You know what he did after he was done with me?"

Alex shook his head, afraid of the response.

"He laughed."

Alex's heart broke.

"He said "Alex'll never want you now." And then he laughed. Like it was all a game." Her voice cracked, and she wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth slightly.

"Well, Bob Paris doesn't speak for me," he assured her gently, the weight of what he was telling her settling across them both. He wrapped one arm around her, letting his hand slide slowly around her back before he tugged her against his shoulder.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked quietly, and she shook her head immediately.

"No... Well, not really," she clarified, and he tensed. "He was a bit rough," she admitted quietly. "He apologised after. Said he was used to working girls who could handle it."

Bob Paris had already signed his own death warrant when he'd fucked Norma Bates to hurt Alex, accidentally impregnating her only hastening along his own execution, Alex planning it since Norma had told him. But her words just now had stirred something new in Alex, something dark and not so easily satisfied, the knowledge that Bob Paris had hurt Norma (and countless other women) spurring Alex into a dark thought he'd never had before - Bob Paris's death wouldn't be quick. It would be slow. And it would be painful.

"Bob Paris isn't going to touch you ever again," he said gruffly, and she instantly relaxed a little, clearly believing him, flopping slightly against his body. "Unless you'd rather I found James the therapist from wherever he scurried off to, you're gonna say this baby is mine. And I'm gonna take care of you, ok?"

She sucked in a sharp sob against him, Alex's hands finding her face, tilting it back up to meet his eye, watery eyes meeting his.

"But you don't want me anymore?" She asked tentatively and he took a gamble, holding her head in his hands, leaning down to firmly press his lips against hers. They barely moved, pressing their lips against each other before he pulled back, smiling as she craned to follow his lips, her eyes flickering open.

"You would really do this for me?" She eyed him nervously.

"Yes. I'm gonna protect you, Norma," he explained matter-of-factly.

"This is too much," she protested lightly.

"No," he said simply, with a smile.

That was how Alex Romero ended up fracturing a small bone in his hand in the labour room with Norma Bates, seven months later. It had been an odd courtship, telling their family and friends they were expecting before they even knew each other, finally beginning to date, getting to know each other in a haze of morning sickness and cravings.

He'd held her hair back while she puked before they'd properly kissed, and her OBGYN had seemed bemused by his insistence of staying so close to her head during her first scan and exam, having no way of knowing that despite being "the father", he'd seen nothing that was covered by the clinical sheet yet.

They hadn't had sex until she was already showing, Norma finally inviting him into her bed one night after he'd insisted on taking her to a popular restaurant in town, showing her off, Norma feeling fat and self-conscious the entire time until, eventually she'd allowed Alex to finally take her home and gently show her how she should have been feeling about herself all along.

"Can we turn the lights off?" She'd asked nervously, as he'd turned her and started to slide her zip down, his hands shuddering from nerves as he undressed her. He'd kissed just behind her ear and stilled his hands.

"I'd much rather see you," he assured her. "But I'll turn them off if you want?"

There had been a pause, where she'd turned around in his arms, gazing up at him with an unreadable expression.

"We can leave them on," she whispered finally, taking a deep breath and shrugging her dress off, letting it slide down her body, biting her lip. "But bear in mind, my body doesn't normally look like this." There had been a hint of apology in her tone, like she had anything to apologise for, Alex sinking to his knees to kiss gently between slightly fuller-than-usual breasts, pressing his lips over the slight swell of her abdomen growing a baby that he knew from her appointments was the size of a peach right now.

"Why is it always fruit?" He'd asked several days ago, cut off as she'd snapped back.

"What do you want it to be? Cheeseburgers?!"

For a moment, he'd stayed silent as he drove her back from the appointment.

"You wanna go get a cheeseburger, don't you?" He'd finally inferred, taking her haughty shrug as a yes, glad he was finally learning to read between the lines when it came to the enigma that was a pregnant Norma Bates.

"I think you're beautiful," Alex had finally uttered up at her from the floor, Norma reaching down to cup his face, smiling down at him sweetly.

"Even pregnant with another man's child?" She'd whispered tearfully, gasping as Alex stood abruptly, holding her to him as roughly as he dared, giving her the smallest of shakes.

"Don't say that!" He chastised, kissing at her neck, then her forehead, then her lips. "You have to stop saying that. Even alone, ok?"

She nodded, casting her gaze away, looking like she was going to cry for a moment.

"He was yesterday," he said softly, flicking his finger under her chin to make him look up at him. "I'm your today. And I'm your tomorrow. And all the other days, ok?"

She gazed up at him with shiny eyes, giving a tiny nod.

"Mine," he growled softly, grasping her ass, kissing at her shoulder, feeling her relax against him. "Mine." He let his fingertips graze over her nipple, pulling back when she jerked at his touch. "Mine." His hand finally drifted lower, cupping her stomach with his large hand, splaying his fingers over her tummy. "Mine," he said definitively, and she nodded, letting him back her slowly towards the bed.

"You have to be gentle with me. Is that ok?" She'd asked softly as he laid her down against the pillows and finally settled his body against hers. He felt a wave of disgust she felt it necessary to ask but he swallowed it, kissing her tenderly.

"I'll always be gentle with you, Norma."

And he was, sucking and lapping her to a small, quick climax before he clambered up her body, sliding into her incredibly gently, never letting an ounce of his weight press onto her stomach, holding himself off her as he ground his hips into her expertly, not needing to throw his body weight behind his thrusts to make her pant and groan.

Afterwards, as they laid in each other's arms, Norma's orgasmic moans still ringing in his ears, both of them sweaty and satisfied, Norma had piped up, her voice slurred with sleepiness:

"I don't usually come that quickly. Either you're very good or these hormones are finally doing something useful."

"For my ego's sake, can you let me think the former?"

She never answered, and Alex had glanced down to find her sleeping sweetly, one hand clutched against his chest, the other curled protectively around the small swell of her tummy, Alex feeling the most sudden rush of love for them both that he thought he was going to cry for a moment, before he settled into a dreamless sleep with the woman he loved.

Darkly, Alex suspected it was Bob Paris "going missing" that had finally driven her into bed with him, Alex's pointed look when she'd asked if he knew where he was seeming to leach all of the tension out of her. He'd never told her what he'd done, never shared the details of driving Bob Paris up to the mountains, torturing him and then setting him free to hunt him like the animal he was. He'd caught up to him like he a wounded deer, leaning in close to him as he bled out to utter the words "You should never have fucked Norma Bates." Bob's eyes went wide as he struggled to suck in breath, frowning as he tried to understand why he was dying like this.

"I'm gonna raise your baby and love it and your family name dies with you. That baby was the last and only good thing you've ever brought into this world, Bob. And this secret dies, here and now." Bob Paris only knew he was a father for 3 seconds, but it was enough for Alex, finishing the job and burying his body in a shallow grave high up in the woods, where the animals would dig him up and decimate any evidence in a matter of weeks.

He had never told her, of course, terrified what he had done would scare her, but he'd assured her Bob Paris was gone and their secret was safe, as were her and the baby, and she looked so relieved, so grateful, Alex couldn't bring himself to feel a shred of guilt over what he had done.

"This is usually when the moms scream at the dads for "getting them into this state"," the nurse said with a small chuckle, rearranging the monitors around Norma's stomach, surprised by the lack of accusation levelled at the man currently holding his partner's hands, grimacing as she crushed them.

"He didn't-" Norma started, seemingly unable to lie through a haze of pain and a heady cocktail of painkillers, Alex leaning in to kiss her to shut her up.

It wasn't him who had "got her into this state" but it was Alex who was there now, Alex who had attended Lamaze class with her, Alex who had gladly accepted Norman's ire for "knocking up his mother."

Norma flopped forwards, letting out a short scream, and Alex toed his shoes off, immediately clambering onto the hospital bed behind her, his weight warm and welcome against her back, reaching his hands out either side of her to let her grab onto him as another contraction jolted through her.

"I've got you, I've got you."

"Thank you for being here," she whimpered, flopping her sweaty head back against his shoulder, panting in relief as the pain subsided for a peaceful moment, relaxing against his body as he enveloped her.

"I didn't have any better invitations," he shot back, kissing her temple, letting her cling onto him as he felt her body begin to tense again.

It was hours later that it was all finally over, Alex having a new appreciation for women and mothers everywhere, Norma's screams still ringing in his ears as they dumped the blotchy, bloody baby in his arms, Alex staring down at huge, blank, blue eyes.

"Is it ok?" Norma cried out, as the doctors continued working on her, not even feeling it as they prodded and pulled at her. The doctors were focused on her, her slightly older body needing a little more help than she'd needed during her previous labours, so they didn't reply and Alex was distracted by the perfect, squished little face blinking up at him, their silence making Norma let out a wail. "Oh God. Is it ok?"

"Yes!" He blurted out, tearing his eyes away from the baby in his arms, rushing over the couple of steps to her, lowering his hands to show her the baby. "See! She's fine. She's good. She's perfect."

Norma dissolved into tears at the sight of her daughter, allowing Alex to place her on her chest, flopping one hand over the swaddled lump.

"Don't let her go. I feel weak..." She muttered almost apologetically like her body hadn't just been through hell, Alex nodding as he held the baby carefully against her, Norma gazing exhaustedly at her, Alex casting a worried glance to the doctor between Norma's knees. Though, as a police officer, he was technically trained to deliver a baby in an emergency, he'd never actually witnessed a birth and he felt his stomach flip at the amount of blood splattered onto the light blue scrubs, his love for Norma convincing him her pained screams had been abnormal somehow, sure something was wrong as the baby had finally made it's way into the world with the most ragged scream he'd ever heard.

"Is my wife going to be ok?" He snapped, Norma not having having the energy to scold him for his tone, distracted by their child flopping onto her chest.

"She's fine, Mr Romero," the doctor muttered back, softening his gaze to glance at Norma. "You're gonna be fine. You did great, Mrs Romero."

She didn't even glance up, silent tears streaming down her face, Alex unsure she could even hear or feel the doctor working on her, his assurance falling on deaf ears.

"You did so good, honey. You're incredible," Alex whispered against her temple, pressing kisses against her sweaty forehead, using his free hand to brush clammy hair away from her temples.

Norma let out a soft cry as she stared at the baby balanced on her chest by his large hands, gurgling up at them, no idea of the chaos she was born of, Norma immediately shrugging her gown down, instinctively wanting to feel the baby's skin against hers, sighing happily as they made contact.

"Alex..." She breathed out, casting a glance down to the doctor still working between her thighs, Norma trying to ignore the splashes of blood on his scrubs that made her want to panic, sure the painkillers and sedatives flowing through her drip were making it easier to zone out. "She doesn't... She doesn't look like you," she whispered tearfully, and he gasped, slipping one arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him, the jostling disturbing the baby who let out a sharp peal before stilling. "Do you still want her?"

He tugged her closer, more mindful of the people surrounding them than she was, leaning in close to whisper in her ear.

"Newsflash, Norma. Babies don't look like anything except babies. And I don't give a fuck who or what she looks like." He tentatively stroked his hand across the baby's wispy caramel hair before he held her firmly against Norma again. "Of course I still want her. She's mine... You both are."

Norma sucked in a sharp, tearful gasp, turning to press her face against his neck, tears flowing freely.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you, Norma," he insisted mildly, holding her tightly as Norma winced at the doctor's ministrations, lifting their daughter to settle her more between them. "You're amazing," he added.

As if on cue, the baby blinked open huge, impossibly blue eyes, sadly missing the Romero lashes due to her heritage, but she would inherit everything else from him by her upbringing, of that he was sure.

"Heyyy," Norma cooed, sedatives and exhaustion slurring her words slightly. "There you are." Her daughter stared at her, then at Alex. "This is your dad," Norma explained, not technically truthfully, but the truth they were deciding to share. "Alex, meet Theresa..."

He heaved in a sharp sob at hearing her name, tears he'd been holding in since she started pushing, tears he'd held back thinking she needed him to be strong finally beginning to fall. He glanced away for a second, trying to pull himself together, before he turned back, noticing the way Norma was gazing at him nervously, kissing the nerves off her face sweetly. Finally, he leaned forwards, his breath stirring Theresa's little baby hairs as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her little head.

"Hi, Theresa. I'm your dad."