This is not dying. I'm not dead!

She was still laying down, but the stabbing pain was gone. Her eyes were tightly closed, but the ground felt different, not at all like dirt and grass. The birds were still chirping, but she could hear the occasional screech of a gull. Was she really in Storybrooke? It certainly didn't smell like the forest. Slowly, she turned her head and opened her eyes, just to see the face that had brightened her life for the past thirteen years.

"Henry" she breathed before getting up in a hurry. Her hands were briefly checking her torso for damage, and she enveloped her son in a crushing hug.

"You did it!"

"No Mom, we did!"

She couldn't believe it. The memories of living like a bandit in the Enchanted Forest, on constant run from the evil queen Snow White and her henchmen… And Robin being married to Zelena. The mere thought made her insides churn. Her train of thoughts was abruptly halted when Robin came running towards her from around the corner. He threw himself at her, hardly halting at all before he crashed into a hug that nearly threw her off balance. Her Robin. Not Zelena's. She melted into his embrace, and they only let up to include Henry when he returned to them after checking on Emma, who just woke up on the road beside them.

When they untangled themselves, her hand went back to carefully check her stomach, and to her great relief and joy, she felt distinctly pregnant again.

God, Spud. Are you all right in there? I can't take it if I hurt you. Please, be okay!

"I'm going home!" she sighed. "This dress is not staying on one second longer than necessary." Her hand sought out Robin's, and their fingers entwined. "Are you coming with us?"

He nodded. "I'll get Roland and then we're coming over." He gave her another hug and kissed her temple before they left in separate directions.

"I knew you were meant for each other!" Henry was practically beaming beside her, and she smiled at him.

"I think you might be right. But that doesn't mean that everything is resolved."

"You think Zelena still is pregnant?"

"Did you write it out of the story?"

"No, I just undid what Isaac had done."

"Then yes, I believe she is."

They walked in silence side by side towards Mifflin Street, and she still couldn't fathom that she was the mother of the new author. She could burst with pride. And she was sure he was perfect for the job.

"Is it okay if I go to your office to think a bit? It's quite a lot to take in," he twirled the quill between his fingers "being the new author and all..."

"Sure. The keys are at home."

When they reached the front door, she locked them in. Home, she thought. I'm home, and everything is going to be all right. She wasn't sure she believed that, but she needed to at least try to believe. What else was there to do?

The keys to her office hang on the wall, and she passed them to Henry.

"Take your time. I'm going to shed these garments and have a shower, and when you return, I'll make you a cup of cocoa."

"Thanks Mom!"

He planted a kiss on her cheek before slamming the door shut.

She sat down on the stairs in the main hall and quickly unzipped her boots. A sigh left her as she pulled them off, feet slightly throbbing. Boots and coat were put were they were supposed to be, and she headed for the bathroom. Nothing could keep her away from a shower right now!

She could feel the grime of New York, vomit and stale sweat fall off her in the steamy hot shower. It was heavenly!

Soft and distinctly pink from the shower, she yet again found herself in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom. Carefully, she weighed her boobs in her hands. As she previously had stated, they were noticeably bigger and fuller than usual. Her stomach, on the other hand, had deflated some time ago, and was more or less back to normal. Nevertheless, Henry had said he could see the difference. He even called her pudgy! The nerve of him! She turned to stand in profile, felt her stomach from bottom to top, and then she blew it up as far as she could, and carefully caressed the fake bump. Then she sucked in her guts, just to see if there was any difference at all. And maybe, just maybe, she could see something. Up until now, she hadn't had the guts to keep track of potential growth, just because she was certain it would all go down the drain. Quite literary, she added with a shudder. On the other hand, this one had taken residence in a hostile environment that was supposed to keep everybody out, no exception. And this exceptional little one had defied all odds. That alone must count for something. Either this was a particularly strong one, or her uterus was being more benign than it had ever been. For now, she hastened to add. She was walking into dangerous territory when she let herself believe it would last. Very dangerous indeed.

"Your daddy and brother Roland are coming over now. I'm going to tell Daddy about you." Her words rang loudly in the silent room. "I don't know how, though."

She put on one of her new, highly comfortable, bras, a grey, semi tight sweater and black yoga pants with a v-shaped waistband.

"I'm so nervous, but it needs to be done. For all of us. And for Henry. He's getting impatient."

To top it off, she put on a pair of fluffy grey socks before she headed downstairs, refreshed, oddly satisfied and with a nervous knot in her stomach. Robin and Roland would show up in minutes, she suspected, and she put the kettle on.

Roland had been happy to run up to the room she had prepared for him, and he was having a blast with a handful of Henry's old toys. She had supplied him with a big glass of milk and a plate of cookies, and she suspected that would keep him busy for the next hour or so. Meanwhile, she and Robin were in the kitchen preparing tea.

"What kind of monstrosity are you concocting? It smells vile!"

"It does not! It smells of tar and creosote, and it's lapsang souchong." She inhaled the smoky mist and felt herself relax back into the kitchen chair. She needed the taste and had reasoned that the few sips she needed to sate her need probably didn't contain harmful amounts of caffeine. She took a sip, let the warm liquid wash over her teeth and tongue before carefully swallowing.

"Well, don't you ever try and force that on me!" he retorted as he rummaged through the cupboard in an attempt to find something worth mixing with hot water. He settled for a more subtle bag of Earl Grey with a dab of milk.

"Don't worry. I want this treat all to myself. It's too good to share."

He snorted, and as an afterthought, she added:

"And it is probably much healthier than my urge to go down to the docks and lick the Jolly Roger."

Her tongue traced the rim of the cup, and the mist kept condensing on her nose and upper lip, leaving the tiniest layer of droplets there, before slowly drying again. Did he take the hint? She cast a glance over at him, straining her eyes as far up in her eye sockets as they would go. He was still facing away from her as he was making his tea. Sure enough, his movements had stopped, and his spine tensed. She looked down in her cup again, and blew carefully down in it, making the mist hit her eyelashes this time. She was certain he had turned and was staring directly at her, and thus she kept her focus on the ripples she created in the cup.

"Regina?"
His voice was trembling slightly.

"Mhm?"

She almost blew the sound into her cup, her eyes never leaving it.

"Are you..."

He stopped for a moment. It was evident that he had trouble finding the right words. Or right thoughts, for that matter. She knew she hadn't made it easy for him, with the hints and facts she had spread about the last 24 hours.

"Ehrm...I mean, what you said back in New York..." He scratched the back of his head, wet his lips repeatedly with a highly nervous tongue and scratched his nose.

"Yes?"

"What exactly did you mean? It sounded to me like we would never...you know…"

She kept quiet for a while as she ran her answer through at least ten times before she decided on a historical one.

"Many things happened back in the Enchanted Forest. Among them, three miscarriages and one infertility potion."

"Oh God, Regina!" He let out an audible breath, rubbed his eyes, ruffled his hair and stared at her.

The moment the words had left her lips, she regretted them. However, she was no longer able to keep it all to herself. The knot in her stomach tightened and loosened like a coil, and the pulse drummed in her ears with a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh. She kept her gaze straight at him, and her thoughts were screaming inside her head.

Don't just stand there! Hold me! Tight! I'm ripping!

Mind reading or not, he closed in on her, reached out a hand to touch her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. The dam broke yet again, tears started to roll silently down her cheeks, and he tried to dry them away with his thumbs. He sat down on the chair next to her and leaned his elbows on his knees.

"I'm so, so sorry! I shouldn't have asked." He dragged her over to his lap and pulled her into a tight hug. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and used his embrace to pull herself together again.

"I'm not the only one full of contradictions, I see," he mumbled, and she lifted her head to look at him. "You know, if it wasn't for..." He stopped and looked her directly in the eyes.

"I mean...you are...I would have sworn you are..." He lost the staring competition.

"Pregnant." she croaked. She wished she didn't sound so broken, but there was nothing to do about that.

"You are?"

His eyes shot back up at her, and his eyebrows were almost hitting his hairline.

"Yes."

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know. I really don't know." She sat up, threw her head backwards and wiped her eyes as best she could. "And with my track record, I don't know for how much longer either, but for the time being, I'm pregnant."

"And it's mine?"

The words seemed to come automatically, not accusative in any way, more quizzical, just to be sure he had the right to be elated. He sounded elated, and because of that, her anger and indignation of the question somehow diminished. Still, she shot off his lap and started pacing the floor while staring daggers at him.

"You are so close to getting seriously hurt!"

"Sorry"

Due to his quite sincere apology, she felt safe enough to continue. She needed some relief, and maybe sharing it with him would help.

"You know, after my last miscarriage, the royal physician, the midwife and my darling husband" she spat the last syllables, "had come up with a plan to avoid more embarrassments on my part, and decided that it would be best for all parts if they put me on regular contraceptives."

"Embarrassments? They called your miscarriages embarrassments?!" He looked positively shocked.

"Apparently, it's not making the king look good if his queen can't provide an heir. Somehow, it makes him less of a man. I never really understood that, though. It was I who couldn't keep them alive, not him. And I don't think he ever announced anything. I never reached the time of confinement, and as the first two were lost before the quickening, he probably wanted to wait and see..."

She paused, sat down and started plucking her cuticles again.

"The contraceptives worked just fine, and I'm glad they did. I...I don't know what I'd done if I kept getting pregnant just to lose them all. It was for the best."

"How old were you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just curious."

"The last one, just after my 21st birthday."

"You were a child!"

"I was not!" she replied indignantly.

"Three miscarriages at the age of 21? Yes, you were!"

"I was a woman well before I got married. We didn't go about molesting children!"

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and with a face that clearly said "yeah, right!"

"And when, may I ask, did you become a woman?"

"When I was 14."

"So, according to you, Henry is an adult next year?"

She glared at him.

"Of course not! That's not even comparable!"

"And why is that?"

"Things were different back then. I was raised to be a queen, and I knew I was going to get married some time after I reached adulthood. My mother feared I would be an old maid when it drew out."

He scoffed.

"And she pawned you off to a king at the age of what?"

"I would turn 18 in February."

"If memory serves me right, the wedding between King Leopold and his child bride was held during summer. You were 17, Regina."

"It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't! If the bastard wasn't already dead, I'd kill him myself! And throw your mother in for good measure! Regular people hardly ever got married before 18, and they surely never made their daughters marry men old enough to be their father."

"Well, I wasn't regular, was I? I am the granddaughter of King Xavier, and that's how it works. I knew that from the moment I was old enough to be prepared for my future duties. It didn't mean I had to like it, but that's what I was trained for. I was prepared."

"You can never be prepared for that, Regina."

"I could take it."

"You shouldn't have needed to. Somebody should have protected you."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Did he ever rape you?"

"He was my husband."

"That's not good enough. Did he hurt you?"

"I can no longer recall what's made up in my mind and what was real, but I don't think he ever beat me. In my dreams, sure, but that's not evidence of anything. Not once did I want to be in bed with him, but it was my duty. What the king wants, the king gets."

The air left her. She was not a victim to be pitied. She was a woman. A miserable woman, and far to young to be the mother of a pre-teen, but still a woman. How dared he? But she was young, and afraid, and lonely. And now, she felt just like the same scared, young pregnant woman. Only, she was loved, both by her son and by her boyfriend. And even if Spud… God, she couldn't even think it. If he should leave, she had someone to share the burden with. Not someone who were embarrassed by her inabilities.

"Thank you, Robin."

"For what?"

"For taking me for what I am."

She pulled her chair closer to his. His hands sought out her waist, slowly easing them under her sweater, and his fingers ghosted over her bare skin, leaving goose pimples in their wake. She shifted her gaze from his hands and looked him in the eyes. He let the jumper fall again.

"May I?"

She nodded and her breathing became strained and shallow as he slid off the chair and knelt down between her knees. Carefully he rolled the fabric up and fastened it under her bra. Instinctively, she sucked in her gut and held her breath, which left her aorta pulsing hard through her abs. He lowered his hands and held her gently by the waist as he placed a tender kiss somewhere below her bellybutton, yet above the waistband. Then, he put his right ear to her stomach and started muttering something she didn't quite catch, while moving his right hand to the small of her back. To be fair, this little conversation was between Spud and his Daddy anyway, so she just sat back and relaxed. Her hand came up to play with his hair and the feeling of his ear and hair and scruffy cheek against her skin made her grin and she felt like her chest was filled with happy glowing bubbles that would burst into giggles if she didn't contain them. His left hand pushed down the waistband, and kept stroking her stomach in a way she had only imagined in her happiest dreams, and with a flick of a wand, she just welled up.

Oh no you don't, Mills! One feeling at a time!

Eyes and nose were suddenly too full of wetness to contain, and she gave away her blubbing by emitting a loud sniff while drying her eyes on her sleeve.

He looked up at her got up on his chair again, pulled down the sweater and leaned in to kiss her. And she reciprocated. God, she did! For the first time in forever, she let all doubts go, and gave into her carnal instincts. Roland was pottering about upstairs, Henry was out of the house, and she didn't care if they happened to run in on them anyway. Nothing inappropriate was happening. Not really. He dragged her over and she straddled his lap. Tongues were active, and when he started groping her ass, she let out a sound halfway between a groan and a moan. Okay, not entirely clean. Probably dirty enough to mortify a teenager and puzzle a five-year-old. She let go of his lips long enough to ask "Are you staying the night?" He gasped slightly to catch his breath. "Do you want us to?" She swatted him on the chest and crashed her lips to his again, and he chuckled deep in his throat at the non-vocalized reply.

"Mom! Not again!"

She let go of Robin's lips with a loud smack, and turned towards the sound and bit her lip, slightly flushed, but with a mischievous smile. Henry just rolled his eyes and looked like he wasn't sure what his next move would be.

"Robin and Roland are staying the night."

"Oh great! Do I have to sleep with earplugs, or are you two going to be decent?"

At this, she turned in Robin's lap and leaned back into his chest, cheek against cheek.

"Based on what we did these last two times you ran in on us, it's clear your definition of decent is not the same as mine. But I don't think we have earplugs."

"You told him, then?"

"Yes."

"Good. Are we telling anybody else?"

"Not yet."

"When?"

"I want to have a check up with an OB first to be sure..." she hesitated a bit "...to be sure everything is OK. If things go down the drain within the next week or four..." the dreaded knot in her stomach tightened again and her voice left her. She rubbed her face a couple of times to compose herself before continuing, "...nobody but the three of us and Emma will know, and that's how it's going to be."

"When will you tell Roland he's going to be a big brother?"

"We'll just wait and see. Winging it, so to speak."

"And his other sibling?"

Her face fell, and Robin pulled her back in an instinctive embrace.

"We haven't had the time to talk about it. It's complicated."

Henry nodded.

"Are you ready for that cup of cocoa now?"

"I don't know if that is sanitary"

"Oh stop it! We didn't slobber in the cups or have sex on the counter."

"Well, you obviously had sex somewhere" he muttered and cast glances around the room, as if evidence he didn't want would magically appear.

She gritted her teeth and stood up.

"I'm not discussing this with you. Please have a bit confidence in me. God! We're making dinner, and then it's off to bed for all of us. I would wager we all need a bit of sleep tonight."

They looked at each other with bated breaths. For the first night in forever, they were going to sleep in the same bed, and somehow it felt like their first awkward night together. More awkward than their actual first night, which really hadn't been awkward at all. She was standing by the bed in knickers and an oversized t-shirt that stopped mid-thigh; he was on the opposite side, in pyjama pants, with the grey waistband of his boxers just sticking up.

"How do we do this?" he asked as she went to turn off the lights.

"How do you want it?"

"What do I really want?"

"Yeah, what do you really, really want?" She groaned internally. Spice Girls? Really?

"I want to hold you tight and never let you go. You?"

"That'll work. I want skin contact. Cuddling, no fuddling. Boxer and knickers on, everything else off."

He nodded.

"Let's get to bed."

She discarded the t-shirt, he stepped out of his pyjamas, and they met in the middle of the bed, skin on skin.