THIS IS A ONE-SHOT SO BEFORE ANY OF YOU (OR ME) GIVE ME ANY IDEAS, I CAN'T HAVE THIS BE A MULTI-CHAPTER. I ALREADY HAVE TWO GOING AND I'M PRETTY SURE AT LEAST ONE OF YOU WILL KILL ME IF I START ANOTHER ONE WITHOUT FINISHING ONE OF THE OTHER TWO. SO YEAH. LOVE YOU *INSERT SMILEY FACE* I SUPPOSE THIS COULD BE SEEN AS A SEQUAL TO "BURNING WITH PASSION", BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO READ THAT ONE FIRST. THE TWO STORIES DON'T HAVE ANY CONNECTION, OTHER THAN IF YOU WANT TO READ HOW EMMA ENDED UP PREGNANT WITH HOOK'S KID.
I DO NOT OWN ONCE UPON A TIME OR ITS CHARACTERS. I'M JUST BORROWING THEM.
FOUR WEEKS
Snow watched as Emma emptied her stomach for the fourth day in a row. She was concerned, to say the least. At the top of the list was dehydration. David had already gone to the station so Emma could take her time getting ready and Henry was at school. Snow was supposed to be at the school, too, but one of the perks of being queen: no one questioned you. So, she was with Emma, determined to make her feel better. The last time (Monday) she'd tried to hold her daughter's hair back, or even be in the bathroom with her, she'd been yelled at. Four days later, she was standing at the door. Technically, she wasn't in the bathroom. Sighing, Emma flopped back against the counter and Snow practically ran in, handing her the glass of water she was holding.
"Do you still think you're fine?" Snow shot her a stern but loving look.
"It's just the flu, really, I've had worse." Emma answered, hoarse.
"But you've been puking four days in a row, Emma." Snow insisted. "That's not normal, even for the flu."
"Yes, it is, and I'm tired, too, so…" she trailed off. "Shit."
"Emma?" The brunette's voice was an octave higher than usual.
"How long we were in Neverland?" Forgetting about her nausea and fatigue, she hopped up and raced into the kitchen, looking at the calendar on the fridge.
"A little over a month, why–" Snow's eyes widened as she realized. "Emma, you don't think..?"
"Yes, I do think." She sighed, wondering why she wasn't freaking out. "I'm late, and that… that could be morning sickness… and fatigue…"
"Hey, we don't know anything for sure." She wrapped her daughter in a hug. "So don't overthink it, okay? Mary Margaret had some pregnancy tests laying around, probably so Regina could taunt me, so I can just go grab one of them and…" Snow didn't like the white pallor of Emma's face. "Honey, why don't you sit down." She guided her to the couch. The fact that Emma didn't notice the endearment concerned her even more.
"I don't need to take it, I know." Emma whispered.
"Hey, maybe you're right, and it's just the flu. You've been stressed, too. It's better to be sure." With that, and a pat to Emma's knee, Snow went to the bathroom and retrieved two white sticks and handed them to Emma. "Here's two, in case one's a false positive or negative."
"Thanks." The blonde managed a smile and slowly walked to the bathroom. A few minutes later, she came back out. Snow hit the 'start' button on her phone for the timer. They sat in silence the whole time, and Snow never let go of her daughter's hand. When the timer beeped, she gave it a squeeze.
"Do you want me to go with you?" She asked.
"Yeah." Emma whispered. The last time this happened, she was completely and utterly alone. She didn't want that this time. She reached out and grabbed Snow's hand again, and together, they walked into the bathroom. They both gasped when the saw two plus signs waiting for them. Emma let out a choked sob, and Snow held her.
"Do you know who the father is?" She asked. Emma nodded against her cheek.
"Hook." She said quietly. Once again, Snow led them to the couch.
"I'm going to call your father and tell him you're still sick. Then you should probably go to Dr. Whale –I'm taking the day off, too, so don't think you're getting out of my sight– and I'll make you a nice big bowl of chocolate ice cream. Or whatever you want."
"You can tell him." She said. At Snow's puzzled look, she elaborated. "With Henry, I had no one. No one was excited for him, not even really me, not after I decided I was going to give him up. I think he'll take the news better coming from you, considering Hook's the… baby's dad. And I should tell him, so unfortunately, you're going to have to let me out of your sight for a half an hour." As Emma stood up and put her coat on, Snow asked,
"Why are you so calm about this, Emma?"
"Believe me," the blonde said as she straightened her collar out, "I'm freaking out. But at least this time, I know I'm not alone. And who knows, maybe Hook'll want to be in its life. The man does have a soft spot."
Emma squinted up at Hook from the gangplank, the sun bright against her eyes.
"Good morning, Lass. I didn't think you were capable of being awake this early." He quipped. Taking it as an invitation to board the ship (he was very protective of it), she walked on, her boats scraping against the wood. Hook immediately knew something was wrong. "Are you okay, Emma?"
"I'm pregnant." She unceremoniously blurted. It wasn't like she could lie to him and say she was fine, he'd see right through it. And she'd never had to tell anyone she was pregnant before, and she and Hook weren't trying, so there was no need to be cute about it. For once, Hook turned serious.
"Is it mine?" She nodded, and his jaw hardened.
"Look, I'm not asking you for anything." She said after a beat. "I just thought you had the right to know you're going to be a father."
"You're keeping it?" He looked genuinely surprised.
"Um… yeah." She said, peering at him. "You thought I wasn't?"
"I just…" He laughed. The bastard was laughing at her. "I guess I assumed you weren't, you don't seem excited."
"Hook, why would I be excited!?" And cue the mood swings. "This was an accident."
"That didn't stop you from loving Henry." He smiled.
"Wait, you want him or her?"
"Gods, Emma, you are terrible at reading people." He pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug, but he was careful not to squish her abdomen. "I wanted to have a child with Milah, but she didn't want one. She already hated herself enough for abandoning Baelfire." He let her go and scrouched down till his face was at the same height as her stomach. "Hello, little one. I'm your dad."
"Oh my god." She mumbled. "You're one of those people, aren't you?"
"Emma, you're giving me the greatest gift someone can give: a baby." He gripped her shoulder with one hand and rested his hook on the other. "I came back for you before they took Henry for a reason." At her confused expression, he continued: "Don't you feel it?" And she did, she'd just been denying it ever since she pulled him out from the pile of dead bodies.
"Yeah, I do." She said quietly.
"That, Emma, is true love." He explained. "You won't be raising this child alone, I promise you that." He said, eyes shining.
"You're taking this really well." She said, ignoring the 'love' comment. "I figured you'd get angry."
"How could I be when I'm so in love with you?" This floored her. She wasn't ready for… this. Yes, they had sexual tension, but… okay, yes, she had feelings for him, but she wasn't ready for a relationship. He frowned, seeming to read her thoughts. "Emma?"
"What're we doing, Hook?" She said. "We're two incredibly damaged, incredibly flawed people who hooked up –no pun intended– one night. I don't know what to think."
"I think," he stepped closer, but not in a threatening way, closing the distance she had created. "that I've been running around for three hundred years acting like a teenager. Then you came along and that changed. I want to be more than I am, Emma. I know you're scared, okay, I know that. I am, too. I never had a good father figure, but I have a pretty good idea of what not to do, of what not to be. I'm half the reason this baby's going to exist, and I'm not running from that responsibility. It might be ill-timed, but we'll be okay. And if you're not ready for us," he gestured between them, "then that's okay. We can take it slow. We have nine months."
"Eight, actually." She corrected, her eyes shining with tears. "He or she's already been in me for a month."
"Okay." He nodded. "Eight months. And uh, how's your father going to react?" At that, she laughed.
"I had my m-mom tell him." Emma was still getting used to the word, not that she planned to use it too many times. "He can yell at her to get it out of his system. Just in case, though, I'd wear a helmet in case he wants to punch you again." She smirked.
"I have no doubt he will." Hook replied.
"And you can't hit him back." She said sternly.
"Why not?" He mock pouted.
"Cause… he's my dad, you can't just hit him."
"But what if he hits me first?"
"Then smile that charming smile of yours and say you love me."
"He won't believe me." Hook protested.
"Are you kidding me?" She scoffed. "The man's obsessed with true love."
"You have a point there, Darling." He said, pulling her in for a kiss. "I know we didn't plan for this, but… thank you. I will keep my promise."
"I believe you." She whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder.
David stormed into the apartment just as Emma finished draining the macaroni for Snow.
"Emma?" He called in a concerned, loving voice, hanging his coat on the coat rack.
"In the kitchen!" She yelled back over the whistling tea kettle. Snow had been adamant that they have hot chocolate ready for when David got home; they were all going to need it. He strode into the kitchen and wrapped his daughter in a tight embrace.
"Is it true?" he asked. "Are you really pregnant?"
"I– yeah." She looked down at her sock-clad feet. "I am."
"And is it really the pirate's?" He nearly spat the word.
"You don't need to say it like that, okay?" She tried to take a step back but bumped into the counter. Absentmindedly, she rested a hand on her flat stomach. "Hook… he loves me. I think I… okay, I love him, but I'm not ready to tell him that, and I sure as Hell don't need to feel like an eighteen year old explaining myself and defending my boyfriend! Okay, so he's not my boyfriend, but still." She sighed. "And it's not all his fault. I should've been more careful, but I wasn't."
"Hey, Emma, I'm not mad." He gripped her shoulders, staring into eyes that were so much like his wife's. "I just don't want you to go through what you went through with Neal and Henry again."
"He promised me he won't leave." She said, sounding like a child. "And I believe him. He wasn't lying. You didn't see his face, how excited he is about this."
"Hold on, he's excited?" The look on David's face was comical, almost like a cartoon character's.
"Yeah, apparently the fearsome Captain Hook has a soft spot for babies. And me." She smiled. Snow looked over at the two from the table, where she was putting forks down, and locked eyes with David, nodding. "He said that… and I feel silly saying this, but he said it's true love."
"I was afraid of that." David grumbled and Snow laughed.
"I saw it since you two first met, Emma." The brunette said. "And I've been dying to tell you to just give in to your feelings because he reciprocated them, but I didn't want to scare you. It was obvious when you held a knife to his throat, then tied him to a tree… and hit him in the chin with a magical compass." That got David's attention, and he couldn't stop the small smile that formed.
"It's almost like our story." He said quietly.
"With a little less near death experiences." Snow added.
"If that's not true love, I don't know what is." David said, all uncertainty gone. "He's fought for you Emma, in more ways than you know. He came back, which at least puts him a little lower on my 'least favorite people' list. I'm happy for you, but just know that as your dad, I'm obligated to hate him until I know he won't break your heart."
"I believe he won't." Snow said. "If you're this trusting of him –Hell, Emma, you're practically giddy– then I know you really do trust him." David nodded in agreement.
"Hey, Kid." Emma said after the family's fifth game of Go Fish.
"Yeah?" Henry replied, preparing to deal their sixth round.
"It's getting pretty late, and I want to talk to you about something." She'd decided that she wouldn't hide it from him, remembering how lying about Neal had gone.
"Okay." He chirped, no argument whatsoever. Emma briefly wondered if he and Regina used to fight tooth and nail about bedtime, and why he respected her so much he didn't even whine. "In our room or down here?" She glanced around. Having her parents for moral support would be great, she decided.
"I think down here's okay." She said. Now, how to tell her son she's pregnant? She could blurt it like she did with Hook; that had worked out just fine. Besides, if she beat around the bush, he'd know something was up, an no doubt connect the dots before she even got to utter the words. "You know I love you, right? More than anything in the world? And I'd do anything for you?"
"…Yeah." Damn kid was already suspicious.
"Remember when I promised not to lie to you again? I'm keeping that promise. I don't want to hide this from you… I'm pregnant." Instead of an angry temper tantrum like she'd expected –he could be moody sometimes (she blamed that on Regina)– his face lit up.
"Who's the dad?" Of course he was excited. His real dad got sucked down a portal with a fatal gunshot wound, a point one percent chance he survived. It was only natural that Henry would assume whoever the father of this baby was would be his dad, too.
"You like Killian, right?"
"YES!" Emma prayed to whatever god was listening that the neighbors we all still awake watching a movie or something, and not trying to sleep. Henry launched himself at her, nearly tackling her backwards.
"Seriously?" She shot a 'help me' glance to Snow. "I thought… you know… you'd think I'm replacing you. Which I'm not!"
"Come on, Mom." Henry rolled his eyes, releasing her from his bear hug. "I'm an original."
"You are." The blonde laughed. "But you know some things are going to change, right?"
"I know." He chirped. "It's not like things haven't changed before. So is Killian going to live with us now?"
"There's barely enough room in here for us. I mean, we're sharing a bed as it is."
"You're a bed hog." Henry said.
"Actually, I think you're talking about you." She quipped.
"We could move into that house with turrets I was looking at." Snow suggested.
"Does it have a house next door to it? Preferably one that's vacant?" Emma asked in a small voice.
"I think so… oh. You wanted a house just for you, Henry, and Hook. Of course." Snow hadn't even thought of that.
"I…" Emma sighed, tears pricking her eyes. It wasn't fair, all she wanted was to spend time with her parents. "I don't know what Hook will want, but I think… if we're next door, we'll see each other every day. Plus, a new baby… it'll be tight. Not a lot of space, and it'll cry, and…" she cut herself off. "But we have a few months to decide."
"Right." Snow nodded. "No rash decisions."
TWELVE WEEKS
Her jeans were already a little tight, and, not wanting to accidently squish the baby, Emma decided to wear sweatpants everywhere. Plus, they were comfy. As she walked by the mirror in her bedroom, she paused and walked backwards, stopping in front of it. She could just barely see the tiny bump. It was small, barely rounded, but it was there. She smiled, wishing she could share the news with someone. She and Hook had moved into the apartment next to Snow and David's. It was the biggest one in the building, with three rooms, a fire-proof kitchen (that was probably why Snow had pushed for that particular apartment), and shared a wall with her first home in Storybrooke. Really, she couldn't be any closer to her parents if she tried. Sighing, she knew she could run next door like a crazy person; no one besides her family, Hook, Red and Granny (stupid sense of smell and wolf instincts) knew about the pregnancy. Though, if she kept wearing the tank tops, it wouldn't be long…
Just then, Hook waltzed in, smiling at her before giving her a peck to the cheek.
"Have a nice sail?" She asked.
"Aye, that I did." He replied. "Are you having fun looking at Killian Jr.?"
"Killian Jr.?" She raised an eyebrow. "Who said it's going to be a boy?"
"Intuition, my dear." He said. "I missed you."
"Missed you, too." She murmured. "And yes, I was having fun looking at her. I can barely see the bump, but it's there."
"Pull up your shirt again." He said. "I want to see." Smiling, she did as he asked. He ran his hand along her stomach gently. "When will we feel him or her kick?"
"Another month." She answered. "Might be longer."
"And you said we can find out the sex?"
"Your name should've been Captain Innuedo." She smirked. "Not for a while, too. Come on." She took his hand. "We're gonna be late for the ultrasound."
Dr. Whale took them to the exam room immediately. That was another perk of being royal, and Emma would even admit she liked it. He squirted the gel onto her stomach and moved the wand around.
"Did you ever see any of the images when you were pregnant with Henry?" He asked, eyes trained on the monitor.
"The first two times, yeah." Emma replied. "I stopped asking to once I knew I was giving him up."
"Oh." Dr. Whale fell silent, seeming to genuinely empathize with her. After a few moments, he smiled. Hook craned his neck to see, momentarily letting go of Emma's hand.
"It looks like an alien… it even has two heads." At that, she laughed. Dr. Whale said,
"Not two heads, two babies."
"What!?"
TWENTY WEEKS
Hook was lazily drawing circles on Emma's rounded stomach as she slept. It wasn't huge, not by a long shot, but the roundness was pretty prominent. Under his finger, he felt something shift.
"Emma." He shook her, and she immediately jolted awake.
"Killian!?" She exclaimed, scared something was wrong with Henry, who was most likely over at his grandparent's watching TV since they were up early and Emma –and lately, Hook, who was up with Emma at night– slept late.
"I felt them move." He smiled. "One of them kicked or something, but I felt it."
"One of them…" she hummed. Around town, to keep up appearances, she pretended to be an irritable pregnant woman, hiding the way Hook made her smile. Somehow, over the past few months, she began calling him 'Killian' every now and then. But she was happy. She no longer fought her love for him, and he was… well, he was adorable. It was still a challenge trying to get him to use something as simple as the microwave; he was still convinced it was going to somehow attack him, but they were getting there.
"We have an appointment today, right?" He asked. "And we can find out what we're having?" God, he was like a freaking puppy chasing after a ball, he was so damn excited."
"Yup." She rolled over, putting her back to him. She just wanted to sleep.
"If you want to make it on time, Love, you're going to have to get up." He said, continuing to draw circles on her, but on her shoulder this time. Emma moaned.
"Just think." He shifted a little bit, jostling the bed. "You get up, I help you get dressed, you help me get dressed, then we go and see if we're having little Emma's or little Killian's."
"Or both." She mumbled.
"Or both." He repeated with a smile. He wasn't sure whether it was the promise of dressing each other or finding out the gender of their babies, but she sat up with a yawn.
By now, Hook was used to the routine: Dr. Whale would squirt clear jelly onto Emma's swollen belly, and that magical white wand thingy would magically put their babies on the screen. And that it did.
"They look less like aliens." Hook commented with a smirk.
"They look just like babies, let me see." Emma blurted, trying to twist to see it. Though she wouldn't admit it, she had looked up pictures on Google so she could see what her babies looked like, week by week. It was in Dr. Whale's best interest to keep her from killing herself trying to look at the monitor, so he swiveled the screen a little bit. The blonde smiled broadly. "They do look like babies."
"So far, everything looks good." Dr. Whale said, putting the screen back in its original position. "They both look healthy… would you like to know the gender?"
"Yes." Hook and Emma answered unanimously, sharing a smile. Just to torture them, Dr. Whale pretended to peer closely at the screen.
"Out with it." Emma demanded.
"Alright." The older man chuckled. "This is subject to change, since we don't have the best technology here, but from what I see, you have a boy and a girl."
"We're getting both." Hook gasped, subconsciously reaching out to Emma's hand and squeezing it."
"Congratulations." Dr. Whale continued, beaming. "And it might be a little early to start talking about this, but I'd be much more comfortable if we had a plan. I'd like to induce you sometime around the thirty eight week mark. As you know, there are higher pregnancy risks with twins, including one of them being stillborn. So at thirty eight weeks, I'd like to admit you so we can induce labor."
TWENTY THREE WEEKS
"No, wait, I just saw it." Emma said with a huff of frustration. Snow watched from the kitchen as Hook and Henry stared intently at Emma's round, bare stomach. She had pulled her t-shirt up so they could watch –she swore one of the babies was moving, she could see it.
"You know, it's kind of too bad it wasn't two girls. You could've named one Mary and the other Margaret."
"What are you, from the 1980's?" Emma snorted. "Those are old people names."
"Emma," Snow said from the kitchen, where she was stirring the spaghetti, "Storybrooke was stuck in 1983 for twenty eight years."
"Whatever." The blonde stuck her tongue out, causing Henry to giggle. Just then, her stomach twitched.
"I saw it!" Henry yelled.
"I did too, Mate." Hook smiled. "I wonder which one of them it was."
"Probably both. I swear, when one of 'em isn't kicking, the other is."
"And you wouldn't stop." Snow said. "When I was trying to sleep, it was like you were playing soccer with yourself. When I wanted you to kick so I could show Red, you were sleeping." Emma stuck her tongue out again. It was as if being pregnant made her revert to Henry's age. David glanced around the apartment, wondering how they were going to get through dinner without him killing Hook. Then again, he probably wouldn't be able to; the man was making his daughter so happy, and Henry loved him. "Okay guys, dinner's ready!" Henry raced out to the kitchen, and Hook stayed behind to offer Emma a hand.
"I can get up myself." She huffed. After a few tries, she did. "See?"
"Give it a few more weeks." David smirked. "By the end of Snow's seventh month, she had no hope of getting up without a hand. My other nickname for her from then on was 'turtle'."
In between the clanking of forks against plates, there was idle chatter. Then Snow asked the big question:
"So, have you come up with names yet?" At that, David nearly choked on his water. That was the one thing Hook and Emma fought about; Emma wanted to plan everything, from the names to the nursery, so there wouldn't be any surprises. She felt she would be more connected to the babies if she had something to call them. Hook, on the other hand (no pun intended), didn't want to name them something, then have them look nothing like it. 'All babies look alike!' Emma had insisted. David, while Snow was snoring soundly beside him, had heard that whole conversation. Many times, actually.
"Not really, no." The blonde managed to answer. "In fact, someone won't even let me talk about names."
"Well, I'm sorry I don't want to make a mistake in the names we give them."
"I just don't want to regret not naming them now, like I did with Henry." David was ready to predict where the argument would go (it always followed the same pattern), but something on Hook's face changed. He looked… somber.
"You didn't have a choice, though, did you?" He said quietly, twisting the pasta on his fork.
"I knew he'd have a better chance of getting adopted if he didn't come with a name… and I didn't want to get attached." Emma replied, equally as quiet. "You're scared of losing them, aren't you? Like what happened with Neal… er, Bae. And Milah." It wasn't the most ideal time for a heart to heart, but it sure as Hell was better than the fighting. Hook only nodded, staring down at his plate. "I promise you, the two of them are fine. They're kicking like… like Snow did when she kicked Jefferson out the window. Nothing's going to happen." She reached across the table and put her hand over Hook's.
TWENTY SEVEN WEEKS
Hook and Emma were sprawled on the bed, both of them flipping through different baby name books.
"We have to leave in twenty minutes." Emma said.
"Don't want to, I'm having fun." He replied, flipping the page. If she had known that getting him excited to pick names would make him borderline obsessive, she probably would have pulled what her mother did and picked the names and not have told him. "What about Sheldon? It means 'seashell'."
"No."
"What do you mean, 'no'?"
"I told you, nothing weird." She said.
"Fine. Dylan. It's a Welsh name that means 'son of the sea'." He read.
"Dylan…" She tried out the name. "Not bad."
"What have you got?" He scooched closer to her, their shoulders touching. She leaned her head on him.
"I don't know yet. Hey, I have an idea."
"Hmm?" He nuzzled her cheek.
"We could keep calling them 'baby a' and 'baby b'."
"Or," He said, "Once we tell Dr. Whale their names, he can start calling them that."
"Or," Emma purred, "we could go with Dylan and Daniela."
"I didn't think you were interested in them having the same first letter." He raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't think I was, either." She pursed her lips. "The name just kinda caught my eye, and I think Dylan makes perfect sense considering he's your son."
"What does Daniela mean?" He asked.
"It doesn't matter what it means, I just have to like it." She quipped with a smirk. "And you do, too. Do you?"
"Dylan and Daniela. They seem like awfully big names for such small babies."
"Believe me." She rested her hands on her stomach, which was almost as big as a woman who was full term with one. "They're not as small as you think."
"Dylan and Daniela." He repeated. "I like them." She captured his lips with hers.
Hook was staring at the screen in awe. Dr. Whale had just pointed out which baby was which. The one on the right was Daniela, the left was Dylan. This time, Snow had managed to talk Emma into letting her, David, and Henry come to the appointment.
"Oh." Dr. Whale chuckled. "Talk about sibling rivalry. They're already going at it."
"What's happening?" Emma asked. Snow laughed.
"She kicked him."
"Wait, this one's Dylan, right?" Henry unceremoniously poked the screen, leaving a finger print. Dr. Whale had to fight the urge to sigh.
"Yes." After a moment, Emma winced.
"What did I just feel?"
"She punched him."
"Jesus." The blonde muttered. "I thought they were supposed to be holding hands and stuff."
"Sometimes twins do." Dr. Whale explained. "Sometimes they hit each other, trying to get more space. It depends on the day, too. Most sets do both. You have to remember, it's very squishy in there." Henry continued to stare at the screen in awe. "I can also see them breathing. Well, practice-breathing anyway, which is a very good sign."
"Is that what I looked like?" He asked.
"Probably." Emma answered. "I stopped looking well before you were that old."
"I was tiny." The boy continued.
"The good news is they'll only get bigger." Dr. Whale said. "You were bigger, too, I bet."
"Ohhh, yes he was." Emma nodded profusely. "Try pushing an eight pound baby out."
"Ew." Henry made a gagging sound.
"I agree." Hook said.
"Men." Snow rolled her eyes.
THIRTY SEVEN WEEKS
"They're both hiccupping." Emma moaned, laying on her back on her parents' couch. "It's like a pulsing and they alternate." She practically whimpered. "I just wanna sleep."
"Henry didn't hiccup?" Snow asked.
"Not this bad!" She almost yelled in frustration. "They're like freaking jumping beans. And it's constant cause when the first one isn't, the other is."
"When this happened the other day, you said it was cute." Hook frowned. The mood swings were just a tad annoying, but he wouldn't admit that aloud. Besides, he was more or less used to them; Emma was like that before the pregnancy.
"It was then, but not when I'm trying to sleep." She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. "Stop, you two!"
"What now?"
"They're kicking each other again. See, they're annoying each other with the hiccups." Eagerly, Hook placed his hand on her stomach. Even through the t-shirt, he could feel it.
"Mom?" Henry asked.
"Yeah?"
"Can I go in the nursery now? You said once the paint dried?"
"At one in the morning? Knock yourself out." The blonde muttered. Obviously none of them were going to be sleeping any time soon. The nursery was a tan on opposite walls, and white on the other two. The carpet that came with the apartment was white, so they didn't have to replace it. The cribs were placed next to each other –they were both white (Hook wanted blue and pink, but Emma had been adamant that nothing was pink. She eventually let Hook purchase two picture frames that were, respectively, blue and pink)– and the dresser was on the adjacent wall. A lamp was in the corner by the closet, adding a soft glow to the room. A teary eyed David had hung the unicorn mobile in the center of the room. Various decorations and toys, mostly from friends, adorned the room. On either side of the closet, there was a white shelf. Each shelf contained a picture frame. The blue one said Dylan on the bottom, and the pink one read Daniela. Two D's hung in between the two windows that the cribs were placed in front of, stacked on top of each other. They were identical, brown with yellow, thin swirly lines. They had finished the nursery days earlier, but somebody got ketchup on the wall, so Hook had had to paint over earlier in the day, which was why Henry wasn't allowed to go in until it was dry.
THIRTY EIGHT WEEKS
The next morning, Hook woke Emma up with gentle kisses, which he peppered down her neck, straight on until he reached her stomach. Smiling, Emma reached up and cupped his cheek.
"Good morning." She murmured.
"Hi." He smiled goofily, at a loss for words (she was the only one who could do that, especially when she had bed head going). "Today's the day."
"I'm scared." She hadn't meant to say the words out loud, and it startled them both. "I've never taken care of a baby before, and now we're having two."
"We are." He stroked her hair. "And I'm scared, too. But just think, in a few hours we'll be holding Dylan and Daniela."
"Ha!" She scoffed. "It isn't gonna be a few hours unless it's a C-section, which isn't gonna happen. I hate sharp objects."
"I'll be with you the whole time." He smiled, gripping her hand.
"I know." Emma said quietly, squeezing it back.
"I come baring good news." Dr. Whale breezed in with a smile. Emma had to admit she liked un-cursed-Whale better. "Your cervix is effaced, so I think all we'll need is Pitocin, and your body will do the rest."
"Right. Cause the good news is all I have to do is go through labor." The blonde rolled her eyes. Dr. Whale fought the urge to sigh; she was already being difficult.
"I'd like to start the Pitocin now, if I may."
"Yeah, sure." She replied. As he started the medication, hanging the bag to her IV pole, he asked,
"Do you think you're going to want an epidural?"
"Hell yeah. But not until I really need it, since I know you won't let me walk around and I'll be stuck in bed."
"Sometimes I forget you're Henry's birth mother." He said without thinking. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong… you've given birth before is what I meant by that."
"I'm sure you did." Emma glared. Hook stroked her forearm, knowing that while she was always annoyed, she was even more so now because she was scared.
After her fifth curse in a row, Hook guided Henry out of the room. He didn't need to see his mother like that, nor did he need to hear her colorful language.
"Let's get some warm chocolate, Lad."
"Hot chocolate." Henry corrected.
Snow put another cold facecloth on her face, and David ran a hand through his hair again, thankful he'd just gotten it cut yesterday. Dr. Whale came back in with a barely hidden smirk,
"I could hear you from down the hall with the door closed. Think it's time for the epidural yet?" With a glare, Emma nodded. He exited, and a few minutes later, he came back in. "You know the drill: stay in bed unless you have to urinate. We could always put in a catheter–"
"Those things are a bitch."
"Or not. So stay put, okay?"
Henry was waiting outside of the room with Ruby. Hook, Snow, and David were at Emma's side. The blonde had insisted she hold Hook's hook –it would hurt him less– but he had refused, so she was clinging to his hand. An hour before, she realized she couldn't feel anything, and she didn't want to wet herself. A slightly annoyed Dr. Whale had reduced her dose and set it so she could press the button when she wanted it. Under his breath, Hook had heard him mutter something about her being a 'royal pain in the ass', but he chose to ignore it. The man was, after all, delivering their son and daughter. Needless to say, while the pain wasn't excruciating, Emma could very much feel it.
"It's time to push, Emma." Dr. Whale said. Hook and Snow, at the same time, held onto her hands tighter. Both of them were showing her support –and David was sitting awkwardly to the side on a chair, not really knowing what to do– but Hook was telling her he was there and not leaving her with his squeeze, and Snow was saying the babies wouldn't be taken away from her. Emma was grateful for both of them, because a familiar panic rose up at hearing the word 'push'. It reminded her of Henry, and how she'd only have him for five minutes after he was examined, she'd be forced to give him up. So, she only nodded, not trusting herself to speak. On the next contraction, she bared down as hard as she could. In an attempt to distract her from the discomfort, Snow said,
"Daniela was farther down than Dylan, so she should be born first." With her other hand, she began stroking her daughter's head. David stood up and took a spot next to Hook, silently giving him support. For such a fearsome pirate, he looked as if he was going to pass out, the poor guy. He understood that; he almost did when Snow had Emma. As the next contraction hit, Emma pushed again.
"Good job. One more and Daniela will be here." Dr. Whale said. He was right. At 5:52 PM on December 2nd, 2012, Daniela was born. "Got her!" the doctor announced, allowing Emma to hold her for a brief moment before handing her over to David. "Sorry, but Dylan's ready, too." He felt bad about being forced to take Daniela out of her arms because, based on her near-hysterical sobs, she was flashing back to Henry's birth. "Doc!" He called to the dwarf. "I need you to examine the baby." With that, Daniela was passed to Doc. Hook gave David a silent nod as a 'go ahead' to be with their daughter. It was something Emma had been very adamant about earlier in the day, that someone they trusted be with their babies at all times. "Emma, I need you to push." Dr. Whale said, but she didn't respond.
"Emma, Sweetie, I know you're scared, but your dad's with Daniela. You'll get her back, don't worry. But right now, you need to focus on bringing Dylan into the world." Snow positioned herself so she could look her daughter in the eye. This seemed to calm the blonde slightly, and with one huge push, Dylan arrived at 5:54 PM.
"They're so adorable!" Snow cooed, staring at the two bundles situated in Emma's arms. Hook had been smiling for the last fifteen minutes so much, his face hurt.
"What're their middle names, Mom?" Henry asked, stroking Daniela's nose.
"Easy, Kid, they've only been here for fifteen minutes." Emma quipped. Then she stared up at Snow and James, who were holding hands, and asked, "What's my middle name?"
"R-Ruth." The brunette stuttered.
"Huh." Her face scrunched up in thought, creating cute dimples. "What about Ruth?"
"I like it." Hook reached down and picked up his baby girl. "Hi, Daniela Ruth."
"And your middle name's Alexander, right?"
"How'd you know that."
"I'm your… whatever we are. Of course I know your middle name."
"Well I didn't know yours." Hook sassed.
"I didn't know mine." Emma rolled her eyes, then looked down at Dylan. "Dylan Alexander Swan-Jones."
"Why not–" He got cut off.
"That way sounds better. Jones-Swan sounds weird."
"Can I hold one of them?" Henry asked.
"Sure thing, Lad." Hook bent down a little and shifted Daniela into his arms. "Make sure you support her head."
"I will." Henry stared at his baby sister and awe while Snow picked Dylan up from Emma's arms, aching to hold a baby. Emma was too focused on watching Henry to notice Hook had moved closer and got down on one knee.
"I don't want us to be 'whatever we are'." He said quietly, and David resisted the urge to punch him again. "I want you to be my wife. Emma Ruth Swan, will you marry me?" He opened the velvet box to reveal a silver band with diamonds along the edge, and a 2.5 carat diamond, emerald cut. It wasn't too flashy –he would have loved to give her a bigger one– because he knew she wasn't one for those types of things. She glanced at Henry to make sure he was okay with it –he had, after all, lost his father ten months ago– and he was barely stifling his giggles. The damn kid knew Hook was going to propose!
"Fine, but I'm not taking your name."
It wasn't as romantic as he'd hoped. To be honest, he'd wanted a candlelit dinner, not in the hospital, and maybe something other than sass and an eye roll as an answer, but that didn't matter. It was perfect. He got up, slipped the ring onto her finger, and gave her a long, passionate kiss. Maybe their lives aren't a fairytale, but surrounded by his family, his two sons and daughter, his true love, and two more people who had grown to care about him, it was all Hook could ever ask for.