Mistakes are mine, characters are not. If you like what you see follow along for more and if you're feeling exceptionally generous leave a review. Best!
"You're joking, right?" Regina's voice was a little too loud in the sterile hospital nursery. The yet to be named pink bundle stirred slightly in her arms, but didn't wake.
It was only a few weeks ago that Regina had burst through his apartment door. They were supposed to have had more time to figure this out; a longer incubation to see if this family could work. Except looking at her now, watching the way she's looking at the child held safely in her arms, he knows that somehow this was meant to be.
"You cannot even be considering letting Zelena anywhere near this child!" her harsh whisper affected him more than her shouts, but what hurt him the most was the pain her eyes. "Robin? After what she did?" Regina still couldn't wrap her head around the extremes her sister had gone through to hurt her, or how much Robin had suffered simply for loving her. She didn't deserve to live let alone raise this child and she couldn't fathom what had gotten into Robin's head.
"I know it doesn't make any sense. I'm not even sure I can explain it." He scrubs his hands over his face then cradles his daughter's tiny head. "I just want to be able to tell her that we tried to give her mother the second chance that we got: to be better. Zelena is her mother," Robin regrets his words as soon as they're out. His heart breaking for the pain he keeps inevitably causing the woman he loves. "As much as I wish she weren't," he adds quickly, watching her soften.
"Biology doesn't make you a good mother," she tries to sound angry, but her voice is thick with unshed tears and shakes far more than she'd like.
"Certainly not. You're the best example of that Regina. Henry and Roland would both agree." He steps closer so he can rest his free hand against her cheek, thumb caressing as fingers slip into her hair. "And so will she," he whispers, letting his forehead drop against hers.
She won't look at him; can't take her eyes off the child sleeping peacefully in her arms. But she feels him; feels him sharing her gaze at the life that should have been theirs alone to share. "Maybe biology gives you a chance to try," she finally admits. She thinks about Henry, about how he saved her by keeping her up all night, ruining her clothes, and disrupting every aspect of her well organized life. Of Emma and how she turned out to be good for both of them. She still didn't think there could be any redemption for her sister, but 15 years ago she didn't believe there could be any redemption for herself. "We have to be there. She will not be alone with her. I will not give her the opportunity to disappear back to her emerald monkey house with our daughter."
Robin's face pulls into a wide smile. She can see the dimples form out of the corner of her eye. "What?" she asks, finally looking at him.
He pulls her as close as he can with the baby between them. "You said 'our daughter.' Not your daughter or the baby."
She returns his smile with her own; its infections. She can feel the lines pulling at eyes and lips, but could care less. She's never smiled as much as she has since she's met this man. "I told you I'm in. It's a lot sooner than I was expecting, but that doesn't change anything. I love you. I love our children. And if you want to give Zelena a very restricted chance to be a part of her life…" She takes a deep breath before pushing on. "Then I will try not to kill my sister."
"That's as much as I'll ever ask." They walk to the door. He picks up the bag, the car seat, and all the other strange contraptions that accompany infants in this world. She'll have to show him these things: plastic diapers, powdered food, he had none of them with Roland and no time to learn. Again, he's hit with the realization that he can't do this without her and how unfair this all is. "Regina, I'm so sor…"
"Don't you dare," she turns quickly, meeting him in the middle of the room and hefting the diaper bag to her shoulder with the practiced ease of a mother. Don't you dare apologize for this." She shifts the subtle weight of their child to one arm and moves her hand to rest over his heart. "She's perfect; she's the best thing that could have come out of this horribly messed up situation, and she is loved. Everything else we will figure out as we go."
This is his family, his life and his love. Robin tries to think of something to say, but there is only one thing to be said. "I think it's time for her to meet her brothers."