baby why baby baby baby

Good Morning

Another CS conversation, post 7x02. Mention of early pregnancy loss. 900 words, or thereabouts.

“Snow was asking how you told me.”

“Told you what?”

“About the baby.”


“Apparently, it’s quite the big thing here. A smock embroidered with ‘Daddy’s sidekick,’ a pair of socks for the grandparents, a pie in the oven–”

“Not a pie, a bun.”

“Just a single bun?”

“Yeah, just one.”

“Well, that sounds miserly.”

“Look, I didn’t come up with these things, ok? So don’t look at me like that.”

“You can’t blame me. It’s as though as soon as I begin to believe I understand this world, a new set of customs and traditions is tossed at me and I’m expected to just pretend that there’s nothing odd about a man dressed in a red suit trying to worm his way down our chimney.”

“Hey, I thought you liked Santa.”

“I like Kris Kringle. I like Father Christmas. I like Grandfather Frost. Santa’s job description, however, sounds strangely like a plausible warrant for arrest.”

“Close your ears, kid. Your father blasphemes.”

“She’ll only really begin hearing around the 18th week. So I think I have free reign until then. What were you saying about four letter words not too long ago?”

“How far away is that, 18 weeks? And ‘she?’”

“Someone has to balance out your overuse of the word ‘kid.’ And just a couple more weeks. Weren’t you keeping track of how far along you were?”

“Why should I bother when I have you and the midwife reminding me every other day? Plus, ‘kid’ is definitely neutral.”

“Whale still won’t speak to me.”

“Whatever. He’s not even a real doctor. Did I tell you that Zelena keeps pestering me about taking her on as my doula?”

“Oh gods.”

“I know.”

“So Swan, how were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you?”

“What was it going to be– a bun, a bib, a small replica of a pirate ship for the bathtub?”

“Oh. Well, if it hadn’t been for the run-in with your clone, I guess it would have happened like all the other times. I mean, how was I supposed to know that this was the one that was going to stick?”

“Oh, Swan. I didn’t mean anything by it. I should have phrased it differently, love.”

“No, I get what you’re saying. If we hadn’t gone through the whole peeing on a stick thing every month. If there hadn’t been the… losses–”

“Emma, it’s fine. Let’s just change the subject.”

“Look, I’m not upset, ok?”

“Love, your face says otherwise.”

“Just pregnancy hormones. I mean, yeah, I still worry that we’ll lose this one too, but I guess a part of me doesn’t because it’s like the universe finally got the message that it was time, you know? So I get a little sad thinking about the others ones, but I’m also happy about this one and the tears are just a byproduct. Yeah, and I’m rambling now. Where were we?”

“I was about to get out of bed.”

“No, wait, don’t go. Let me think. Right, ok, how would I have told you?”

“We can have this conversation in the kitchen. Come on, I’ll make you a cup of tea and we’ll see what we can find for breakfast.”

“There were a few eggs left the other day. But hold on. I had a thought.”

“The sun is coming up.”

“So, here’s the thing. No, I do not need another blanket, thanks. Killian, I would’ve told you the exact same way I told you about the other ones, ok? If you and Regina hadn’t left to help Henry, we would have gone through the whole thing together. I would have stopped at the pharmacy on my way home and picked up a pregnancy test, just like I did. I was already really late, but I was stalling. I just didn’t want to go through all of that again. And I needed you there, ok?”

“Oh, Emma-”

“No, no. I’m not saying that it sucks you weren’t there for it. I mean, it did suck, but what I mean is that– ugh. I hate explaining stuff like this. What I mean is that you’ve been beside me every day since we got married. Well, almost. It didn’t even register in my mind that I should make a production out of this. Because that would have meant keeping something so monumental from you and I just couldn’t see the point in that. Not letting you know that you’re going to be a father just because I want to surprise you with a tiny leather jacket at Christmas? While tempting, in hindsight it just seemed kind of inane.”

“I hope you don’t use the same terminology with Snow if she brings this up.”

“What, ‘inane?’ Yeah, well I’m not saying surprising someone is stupid. She probably knitted David a sweater with DADDYX2 across the front when she found out about my brother. It’s just not…”

“…Not us?”

“Yeah. Are you disappointed?”

“No, I can’t say that I am. I wish I could have been there beside you, that’s all.”

“You’re here now.”

“And I’ll try my damnedest to be here, always.”

“Ok, stop it. I’m going to need a salt transfusion if I keep this up.”

 “Happy tears look good on you, love.”

“I’ll remind you that next time I start sobbing in the grocery store.”

“I said happy tears, not where-are-my-favorite-pop-tarts-for-the-love-of-God tears.”

“No one asked them to move the pop-tarts to another aisle.”

“Come now, love. I’ll see if I can scavenge a couple for you downstairs.”


“Hell, no. I just said it to get you out of bed. Come on, Swan. Let’s get a proper breakfast in you.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

“…so just a single bun? Gods, this realm.”

“Hey, at least it’s not a pop-tart.”

“Small mercies, that.”

I cannot possibly emphasize what a constant trial it is being friends with me.