Guest Comments

BossLady: I had thought that might've been your prompt! Poor Henry; he's had to grow up so fast. Quality family time will definitely be needed!

Title: Ice Cream
Summary: They decide on a different sort of breakfast.
Note: Post Apologies. Prompt from farmgirlusa on tumblr "Midwife issues [...]"

Her boys were already awake by the time Emma finally blinked her eyes open the morning after.

Her throat was scratchy, the leftover tears from the conversation with her mother still cloying in her chest. Somehow it was the half-resolution that had her heart the most conflicted. Everything else sparked the old instinct to run: Neal, Regina, the very real danger. But the possibility of a better relationship with her mother, of Mary Margaret beginning to understand … it was the only thing that kept her focus.

It must've still been early, but she couldn't seem to cling to sleep in this town. It wasn't as bad as Graham's insomnia; he had always struggled with staying asleep and the recent events and relocation had only made that worse. Henry's, however, was new and it made her ache to see it.

He and Graham were talking quietly in the window seat. Henry was resting on Graham's chest, his face solemn and pale as they watched the sun on the horizon. Her mouth tightened to a firm line, and she didn't ask what they were discussing. Yesterday had left too much on her son's shoulders and if he was even getting half of it off with Graham, it was progress that she didn't want to disturb.

"Did grandpa already make it?" The first audible phrase from her son had her spine straightening.

Graham nodded, his chin mussing the boy's hair as he did so. "Yeah, she'll get it this morning, he said."

Emma felt a wash of pure relief, recognizing what they were saying. The restraining order. That beacon of hope that perhaps her parents would see reason when it came to Regina. Mary Margaret's reaction was encouraging earlier, but there was still much that would need to be changed for her to really see it.

"Good," Henry said simply, then cocked his head to look up at Graham. "So we won't have to see her again?"

"With a little luck," Graham replied, his words mostly wistful.

"Maybe we shouldn't eat downstairs today," Emma spoke up. "Just until it's in place."

Graham and Henry turned to her, expressions relaxed and even despite the topic. Henry gave a small smile. "Dad and I never got to the ice cream place yesterday …," he edged.

Emma twisted, her arm cradling her belly as she pretended to think about it. "I guess your sister would be okay with that. What do you say, Graham? Ice cream for breakfast?"

Graham hummed, brows quirking. "Well, I don't know. Doesn't sound too healthy," he teased.

Henry's eyes widened innocently. "Banana splits are a thing. And bananas are breakfast foods."

"Darn," Graham said, holding the kid in a loose headlock as he stood. "Guess you've convinced me."

Henry giggled, throwing his arm around Graham's waist to keep up. He looked so much brighter at the idea, and Emma was trying not to beam back at him. This was her kid, and this was what she wanted for him. Not the scared, grave child that had been coming through more and more since passing the town line. She was in danger of giving in to anything that made the kid smile like that while they were here.

Graham broke her focus as he helped haul her up with his free hand. A kiss was pressed to the crown of her head before he pushed her gently in the direction of the bathroom, and she scoffed slightly. "Two minutes."

It didn't take long for them all to get ready. It was still early morning and there was no real need to dress up for a dessert breakfast. They bypassed the usual exit through the diner and took the long way towards the ice cream shop half a block down.

"I think I want cherry vanilla," Henry said, practically skipping ahead of them.

Graham chuckled. "Why, because it counts as fruit?"

"Dad," he said, elongating the word. "It's practically health food."

Emma laughed, catching a glimpse of Graham's amused look as he stepped ahead to whisper something in their kid's ear. She started to comment on the secret-keeping when she felt a sharp pang deep inside her. She stopped abruptly, hand flitting over her stomach as she tried to discern what she had felt.

Graham stopped a few paces ahead, turning to look at her curiously. "Everything okay?" Henry hung onto his hand, twisting to look back, too.

Emma frowned. "Yeah, don't know what that was." She shrugged and resumed her pace when she felt it again. She winced deeply, and she grabbed onto the stucco of the building to brace herself.

Graham and Henry were by her side immediately. "Mom!"

"What is it?" Graham asked, his palm on her belly, looking completely helpless.

Emma shook her head. "I don't know. Just a weird twinge. We're okay, kid." She didn't want to scare him or Graham, even if the beginnings of alarm were starting within her.

"Did you need some help, dear?"

Emma swallowed back a groan. "I'm fine," she said through clenched teeth. Of course the redhead would have found her when she was like this.

Zelena's look was sympathetic, but it seemed false. "Well, we should check, just to be sure." She balanced her basket on her arm, the other reaching for her belly.

Emma immediately recoiled, but it was Graham that grabbed her wrist before she was able to reach her again. "Won't be necessary," he said abruptly, and there was something dark in his tone.

Emma grabbed Henry's shoulder and stalked deliberately down the street. Her kid stumbled over the first step, but hurried along to match her pace. "False alarm. I'm okay," she gritted out.

"Oh, but you should be sure. We wouldn't want anything to happen to this magical child, now would we?" Zelena insisted, hustling in her heels to follow them down the sidewalk.

Graham seemed more rigid than even she was, which was saying something. Henry just looked puzzled.

"I'm fine," Emma said more forcefully. Why this woman wasn't adhering to her not-so-subtle demands was beyond her. She pushed open the door to the building and ducked inside, Graham and Henry right behind her. Unfortunately, the midwife was just a step behind.

"If you are feeling out of sorts, then you should have it checked out! You don't want to put the child in danger, now would you?" she pressed.

"I'll take her down to General if it gets worse," Graham shot out, blocking her with his body. The rush to protect wasn't unusual, but Emma pressed a hand to his shoulder, squeezing gently to temper his reaction.

She was trying to remind herself that Zelena had been nothing but helpful to her mother and father. She tried to remember that she had been overbearing but harmless throughout the last couple days. Of all the people in Storybrooke, the midwife was the least of their worries.

She took a deep breath, but squared her shoulders. "It was just a twinge. I am perfectly all right, but I promise I will seek help if it comes again." Emma said, her tone clipped and overly formal. The baby rolled and then kicked out at that moment, as if making her point.

Zelena's grin deepened, something in her eyes shading. "Of course you would," she said soothingly. "But really we should have a look before it becomes a problem, don't you agree?"

"I believe she has said 'no' to your requests."

Emma turned to the new voice. The shop owner had stepped out from behind the counter, her words firm but gentle. Her blonde hair was swept back, aproned outfit pressed and clean. There was a certain regality to her appearance despite the trade, and it made Emma wonder just who she might have been. She was … familiar, in a way. Strangely so.

Zelena's eyes narrowed fractionally, barely a glimmer there. "I am only looking out for our newest prince or princess, of course."

Graham's eye twitched, and he moved forward protectively. But it was the owner that stepped forward more purposefully, head held high as she got into the other woman's space.

The shopkeep gave a smile that was as genteel as it was dismissive. "And while I'm sure you have the best of intentions, I believe the mother would have the best instincts when it comes to her child. Don't you agree?"

The redhead raised one brow, her lips pursing in a way that reminded her a little too much of Regina. Finally, she relaxed and smiled widely. "Why, of course that's true, Sarah." She turned to Emma next, her long hair swinging. "I just know how bad all this stress is, dear. And I know it helped your mother to have a little help. She said she could stop panicking. I guess I was hoping to be that for you, too."

Emma deflated slightly, leaning against Graham. He was still rigid; he was a lot slower to trust anyone outside their group and the coil of tense muscles wouldn't loosen until they had a chance to recharge. But the woman was right, wasn't she? Mary Margaret raved about this woman all the time. Maybe Emma was just overreacting.

But then Henry grasped her hand, and she felt his uncertainty, too. "Thanks, but I did just have my checkup. I'm fine for now."

The other woman, Sarah, stepped closer to the redhead. Her expression was placid but icy. "You are such a help, but as you see, you aren't needed here."

Emma could only feel vaguely amused at her tone. She was so soft-spoken, but her whole demeanor seemed to demand a sort of cool respect.

Zelena gave a queer sort of smile as she turned to Emma. "You will come to me if it gets worse?" she murmured.

Graham's lips pressed together and squeezed hard on her hand. Emma sighed at her husband's nonverbal refusal, though she didn't fully disagree. "I'll get help when it's needed," she said, careful to not commit to her help.

Zelena nodded. She exited with one final glance to her belly, bright eyes alight with something that made her stomach churn.

Graham let out a low breath, and then turned to her. His brow was furrowed and he made a slight nod to her bump. She shook her head and shrugged. There was no more twinges, no strange feeling acting up, and the baby was active.

Henry pushed into her side, peering up at her with a frown. Emma smiled and mouthed an 'okay' to him.

"It's quite early for ice cream, isn't it?" Sarah asked, returning to her place behind the counter.

Emma turned, placing a hand on Henry's shoulder to steady herself. "Never too early," she replied.

Sarah gave a muffled laugh, her lashes on her cheeks as she scooped through the flavors. "I suppose that's true." She held out a cone to her son, which he took eagerly.

"Cherry vanilla? How'd you know?" he asked as he took a bite.

"It's my secret," she replied with a wink.

"Henry," Graham said, nudging him.

Henry blushed slightly at the reminder. "Thank you," he chirped up at the woman. The color was melting back into him, and Emma felt herself relax at that. If she kept Henry away from Regina, perhaps Henry'd get through this unscathed.

The blonde smiled fondly, then looked up. "Sheriff, I had heard you were back. It is good to see you well."

Graham shifted uncomfortably before placing a hand at the small of her back. Emma leaned into his chest, feeling how he needed her to ground him. Easily, he molded into her and then wrapped an arm around her belly. "Thank you," he finally replied.

"Such a beautiful family," Sarah murmured absently. She grabbed cups and filled them with flavors that seemed curiously right to their tastes. Her lips twisted up, demure and sweet but somehow sad. "You look happy, Emma."

She swallowed, trying to stop the alarm that raised her heart beat. She reasoned that she had been the sheriff, the savior, the princess whatever and that she was probably more closely watched in this town than she had first assumed. Despite everything, she knew she was miles beyond the girl that left Storybrooke a year ago. The fact that people she didn't know could notice that was somewhat disconcerting, like maybe she'd never been able to hide how lonely she'd been before. Finally, she nodded. "Yeah, I am. Thank you, Sarah."

"Please," she said, holding out a hand. "That was my cursed name. Call me Ingrid."