#cstrashnetwork

Regina looked down at her hands, tongue firmly between her teeth as she mulled over her thoughts before looking up, "You will understand that I want to verify this as fully as I can before I agree to anything?"

"I understand and I, fortunately, have access to those records," Emma explained, "When you're a midwife you get access to that information," she answered Regina's quirked eyebrow.

"I see," Regina pursed her lips together. "How soon can you get your hands on them?"

"Next week."

Regina sighed and closed her eyes, her fingertips massaging her temples, "Well then bring them to me by next week and I'll a have barrister look over them and draw up an agreement in writing. Is this amenable to you?"

"Yes, although I have one more question," Emma said searching for the right words. "How much does Henry know about this situation?"

"He knows he's adopted if that's what you're asking," Regina said sharply, "I at least managed to do that in between the midnight feedings, temper tantrums, and school projects."

"Regina, I'm not here to disrespect you or to erase everything you've done these past eleven years, I'm not disputing that you are Henry's mother. I just want a chance to get to know him now that I have the opportunity. I'll have the records sent to you by the end of this week if you need to reach me just ring Antioch House."

"I'll be in touch," Regina said through clenched teeth. Emma sensed that despite the woman's trepidations she would keep her word.

"You did brilliantly love," Killian said as they walked out of Regina's house.

"I did?" Emma let out a shaky breath.

"Of course, not many people can stand their ground against her like you do. It's actually one of the most attractive parts of you," he said, a hungry look in his eye.

"Easy tiger, I have to go on my rounds as soon as we get back to the East End," Emma quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Tonight then? It's pasta night at Chez Jones," he grinned smugly at her.

"Hmmm well I do love pasta," Emma mused, "I suppose I could stop by after I'm finished with my rounds." The bus slowed to a stop on the corner that Antioch House sat, Emma stood up from her seat only to have Killian catch her hand in his.

He placed a tender kiss to her knuckle, "Until I see you tonight my lady."

"You are such a charmer," Emma rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Only for you love," he called as she hurried off the bus. She was able to run into the convent and throw on her uniform and dash back downstairs to get her assignments.

"Cutting it close Nurse Swan," Sister Ingrid chided with a small smile.

"I know I'm sorry Sister, we hit a spot of traffic on the way back," Emma apologized.

"Here are your rounds for today, all of them pretty standard check-ins except for your last one. Marco Bonardi has been having some heart problems and I'm afraid he's not doing well and the situation needs to handled delicately."

"The old Italian who runs the furniture shop, he's always been so sweet. I can handle this," Emma nodded.

"Wait, Nurse Swan, Mr. Bonardi is in a very bad place. He refused treatment until his son insisted that he see Doctor Whale. There's quite a lot of tension there, but I know that you can handle it if things start to get ugly," Sister Ingrid warned.

"Hello Mr. Bonardi," Emma said brightly as she strode into his room, "How have you been feeling today?"

"No better than I felt yesterday," Marco grimaced as he tried to push himself into a sitting position. "And please call me Marco."

"Lie back, I'll let you know when you need to get up," Emma placed her hand on his shoulder. Even through his thick sweater and nightshirt, Emma could feel how thin he had become. "Marco is there someone who can look after you during the day? Make sure you're eating? Call us if anything is wrong?"

"Yes, my store keeper can call you," Marco nodded.

"He also has me," a voice asserted. Emma turned to see a tall man with dark hair and striking blue eyes standing in the doorway.

"And you are?"

"He is no one," Marco huffed.

"My name's August Booth, I'm his son," the man stepped into the room but still kept a few paces back from the bed.

"Feh your name is Agostino Bonardi. This August Booth is no son of mine."

Emma felt her eyebrows shoot practically up to her hairline, she busied herself with rummaging through her medical bag as she searched for a way to dissolve the tension in the room. "Why don't I take your blood pressure, Marco?"

Marco held out his arm her for but kept his stern gaze on August who stared at the floor. Tension filled the room as Emma explained to Marco and August that she would be there every evening to give Marco an injection and to check his ankles and the sore on his shoulder.

"Nurse Swan, do you have any children?" Marco interrupted her rambling.

"Um-" Emma stood gobsmacked and trying to find the right way to answer.

"You young people are so lucky, lives stretching out in front of you full of opportunity. No one to break your heart."

"Papa-" August said softly.

"You do not get to call me that, not since you've spit on everything I spent my life building for you."

Emma could tell that nothing she said at that moment would ease the tension in the room, she kept her eyes down as she repacked her bag and bid Marco and his son goodbye. She hurried down the stairs towards the back of Marco's furniture shop and only slowed when she heard August's heavy footsteps following her.

"I'm sorry about that," he said when he caught up to her.

"It's not the worst I've seen, believe me," Emma smiled sympathetically at him.

"It wasn't my idea to change my name," he said quickly, "My publisher thought it would be better if I changed it to something more neutral sounding."

"I'm sure your father will come around."

"I changed my name 3 years ago and you just saw the first time he spoke to me." Emma tried to school her face into a plain expression but couldn't help that her eyebrows knitted together. "Don't let that color your opinion of him too much, we had a huge row and I told him to never speak to me. And to be fair it's not as if I reached out before this."

"Well you're here now, that has to count for something."

"I don't know if it's enough though," August looked back towards the stairs, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"All you can do right now is try. You can't control how your father is going to react, but you can control your actions."

"I suppose you're right," he sighed, "I'll see you tomorrow?" Emma nodded before throwing her leg over her bike and settling herself onto the seat.

"Everything all right love?" Killian asked as Emma walked into his flat.

"It's nothing, just a tough patient," Emma shrugged off her coat and handed it to Killian's outstretched hand.

"Want to talk about it?"

"You know I can't, part of patient confidentiality."

"Oh right, well if there's anything I can do just let me know Swan."

"Any chance that pasta's ready? I'm starving," Emma smiled hopefully.

"Aye love, just a few more minutes until dinner is served. Liam!" he called down the hall, "dinner's almost ready. Time to wash up lad."

"But I'm almost done with this chapter!"

"And it'll still be there after dinner, now come wash up!"

Emma watched as Liam came out of his room and stomped to the kitchen sink to wash his hands; he really was the spitting image of Killian right down to the way their eyebrows nearly had a mind of their own. Once everyone had washed up they sat at the small kitchen table to eat, trading stories about their day.

"Dad the Cub Scouts are going on a field trip out to the country new weekend, can I go?"

"Sure, do I need to sign something?"

"Nurse Lucas will be giving them out at the next meeting I expect."

"Well then, I don't see why you can't go, just make sure you don't fall behind on your school work."

Emma was lost in thought, had Marco and August had conversations like this one all those years ago? Had Marco checked August's school work and signed permission slips? Had they ever been close the way Killian and Liam were now?

"Swan? Swan? Emma!" Killian pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Oh sorry, I was just thinking for a minute there. What were we talking about?"

"If you wanted to back into town with me next weekend since it appears I'll have the day to myself." Emma knew he was talking about going to see Regina and possibly Henry.

"Maybe, I'll have to see if I have that weekend off."

"You don't get all weekends off?" Liam asked.

"It comes with being a midwife, some just can't wait until Monday to come out."

"You'd think they'd be more considerate," Liam smirked.

Emma and Killian chuckled, "Well babies have different things to worry about than being considerate to midwives I suppose."

"Liam, why don't you go back to your book lad?" Killian said but Emma could feel him looking at her.

"You mean I don't have to do the dishes?"

"I know how exciting Captain Nemo's adventures can be, go on." Liam shot up from his seat and practically ran back to his room. Emma helped Killian gather up the dishes to put in the sink, mentally preparing herself for what she knew would come.

"You seem vexed love."

"I told you I'm fine Killian."

"Forgive me Swan but I'm not buying it; you've always been something of an open book to me and I can tell that something is bothering you more so than just a difficult patient. Are you nervous about meeting Henry? That he'll resent you? Because I have known that boy almost his entire life and I can tell you he'll love you."

"I wasn't worried about that, well I am but that isn't what's on my mind tonight." Emma took a deep breath, trying to carefully find her words. "Is there anything Liam could do to make you not love him anymore? Something to disown him?"

Killian looked taken aback, "Not love Liam? No never. I'd never abandon my son."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I bloody well know what it feels like when a father abandons you," Killian said harshly. Emma gasped softly and Killian looked ashamed of himself. "Emma I'm sorry, it's just that man could hardly call himself a father after what he did to my brother and my mother and me."

"What happened?"

"He loved betting on horses more than he loved us. Until one day when it caught up to him and he couldn't pay up on a bet. So he up and left us in the middle of the night; it nearly destroyed mum I remember there were days that she just couldn't get out of bed let alone care for the both of us. So my brother had to take on being the man of the house, he worked and made sure we had food on the table and that I stayed out of trouble. And despite my best efforts to be a rebellious little shite everything seemed to work, we weren't well off but we were getting by and as the years went by mum started getting better. That is right up until the war, Liam felt it was his duty to join the Navy; he didn't make it back. They got attacked in the middle of the damn Atlantic, he had to have done something especially heroic, they gave my mother and I a medal at his funeral."

"It's not enough, is it?" Emma placed a hand on his cheek and saw tears collecting in his eyes.

"Not at all, naming my son after him still doesn't feel like enough after all he did. I can only hope I'm doing half as much for little Liam than my brother did for me. He was a much better man than I could ever hope to be."

"You're a better man than you know Killian," Emma stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him properly. "There's not many who love their children as unconditionally as you love your son."

Marco's condition did not improve with Emma's daily visits; she knew that she was only prolonging the inevitable but she didn't feel that her job would be done if there wasn't any improvement between Marco and August. The problem was that neither of them knew how to approach the other. Emma could see that August was searching for something to say and that Marco was waiting for him to say something.

August had taken to sitting in a chair in the corner of the room during Emma's visits, looking everywhere but at his father, before coming up with an excuse to leave the room. Emma could see the hurt and disappointment in Marco's eyes each time his son turned to leave before he spat out a disdainful "Goodbye, Mr. Booth" to his son's retreating back.

"August why don't I teach you how to perform some lymphatic massage, just in case your father needs it when I'm not here."

"Oh no, I don't think that'll be a good idea."

"I'd much prefer it if you do it, Nurse."

"Honestly you both are just as bad as the other; now August hold out your hands," Emma pulled a bottle of oil out of her medicine kit and poured a small amount into August's trembling hand.

"Now, grasp your father's ankle firmly and push your hands up to his knee," Emma instructed once she had pulled back the bed sheets to reveal Marco's slightly swollen feet.

August gulped and did as instructed but applied barely any pressure.

"Try going a little harder, we need to improve your father's circulation."

"If he had stayed here and run the shop instead of running off to write in his fancy flat he wouldn't have such delicate hands," Marco said.

"Marco it's probably for the best if we have some quiet right now," Emma said forcefully. "You're doing great August, just a little more pressure." She watched as August massaged his father's ankles and calves, her eyes flicked to Marco's face. His gaze was fixed on his son and his face unreadable as Emma coached August through massaging the other legs.

"Right well I think I've got the hang of it now," August got up off of the foot of the bed. "I'd best wash up." He walked quickly out of the room, Emma thought she saw his hand come up to wipe his eyes but turned her attention to pulling the sheets and blankets down to cover Marco's feet.

"You must think that I am an awful man," he said.

"I don't think that at all," Emma assured him. "My wife and I we tried for so long to have a child and then things began to happen back in the old country. Friends going missing, hundreds arrested and shipped into exile, it was not safe to stay there and certainly no place to raise a family. So my wife and I, we move here and open the shop and a year later she told me she was expecting," an easy smile spread across Marco's face as he seemed to savor the memory. "But you know what happened then, the Blitz, they took her from me and left just me and Agostino alone together."

"Marco I'm so sorry, that cannot have been easy."

"It wasn't raising a teenager on my own but I tried to teach him everything I knew, just as my father had done for me and his father before him. I wanted to be supportive of his writing but one day he comes up to me all excited about getting published and he thrusts this bundle of pages into my hands and I see the name he has chosen for himself and it felt as if he turned his back on everything I have done for him. As if he didn't want to be associated with all of this that my wife and I had built for him."

"I'm sure that's not true, that can't be true."

"You don't have to protect my feelings Nurse, I am an old man and I know that I'm dying. Whatever you have to say to me can't hurt as bad as that."

"Then you'll forgive me for suggesting this Marco, but you might try meeting your son halfway. It could work wonders" Emma snapped her medical bag shut and stood up to leave.

"But what if that doesn't work Nurse?" Marco asked, Emma turned back and was struck for the first time just how ill he was, his pajamas and sweater hung off his body making him look even thinner than he was, his skin was so pale it looked nearly translucent, and his breathing was raspy and uneven.

"I can't make promises, but I will say that you can only control your actions. You can go to bed at night knowing that at least you tried."

"I see, thank you, Nurse Swan," Marco said, clutching his blankets and not quite meeting her eyes, "I'll see you tomorrow I suppose."

"Good night Marco," Emma nodded as she left, hoping that there was still enough time for him to even attempt to make amends. Over the next few days Marco's health was at a standstill, while he wasn't getting any worse he also wasn't improving no matter what Emma tried. It did seem that August and Marco's relationship was getting better, even if the improvement was minute. August now sat in on the entire visit instead of ducking out halfway through, Emma could also tell that he was continuing to massage his father's feet when she wasn't there. Marco at the very least wasn't glaring at August throughout Emma's visits and Emma could have sworn she saw a copy of August's book wedged between his mattress and the bed frame.

Until Emma got the call she had been dreading from August, "Nurse Swan please come quickly!" August had panted into the phone, "My father, he's not breathing right nurse and I don't know what to do."

"All right, I'm on my way August, just make sure he's breathing and that he stays calm. I'll be there as quick as I can." Emma grabbed her medical bag and raced down the stairs of the convent and peddled as fast as her legs could to the furniture shop. In no time Emma was up the stairs and examining Marco.

"His heart rate is very fast," Emma said removing her stethoscope. "Try massaging his ankles and feet, we need to try to improve his circulation while we can."

"Nurse Swan," Marco wheezed, his hand reaching up towards her, "Tell the truth. Am I dying?"

Emma paused, at a loss for words, truthfully he was. He was dying and the most that she could do was ensure that he was comfortable. "Yes," she nodded at him, tears starting to cloud her vision, "I'm so sorry Mr. Bonardi."

"No no, don't be sorry. I have had my time and I'm afraid that I've wasted a large part of it."

"You didn't and you still have some time to make things right," Emma whispered to him before looking towards August.

"Papa," August sank into a chair near the bed, "Papa I'm so sorry. I should never have turned my back on you."

"No no no my boy, it is I who should be sorry." Marco held out his hand, curled with age and still calloused from a lifetime of work. August clasped it in his own hand and tears fell down his face. "I was the one to turn my back on you. You are my son and I forgot that."

"Papa…"

"Let me finish, I only have so much time left. Whether you are August Booth or Agostino Bonardi, you are my son. I love you."

"I love you too," August choked out and kissed his father's knuckles.

"I only wish that I could finish your book, I was just getting to the good part," Marco chuckled before coughing.

"Well it's fitting, I was working on this," August pulled a small wooden whale from his pocket. "I know I'm a little rusty but-"

"You always had a talent for carving, but maybe you should stick to writing," Marco smiled before taking one last breath. A small smile remained etched on his face as August began to sob still clutching his father's hand. Emma reached forward and gently closed Marco's eyes and pull the bed sheet up to cover Marco's face.

Emma sat at the back of the church for Marco's wake with Killian and the other midwives. It had been a somber occasion as Marco had been known and well liked throughout the community having made most of their furniture with care and skill. She listened as the priest spoke about Marco and lead them all in prayer. It wasn't long before it was over and they were all dismissed and she and Killian walked hand in hand down the church steps.

"Emma wait!" Emma turned to see August jogging down the steps to meet them. "I just wanted to thank you, for everything you did."

"Your welcome, I was only doing my job," Emma blushed.

"No, you did much more than you were asked to and I can't even think of a way to properly thank you."

"Really you're welcome; I did everything I could for him. So what are you going to do now? I heard Marco left you the shop."

"I'm going to keep it open, I figured I'd get back to my roots," August shrugged and smiled.

"What about your writing?"

"I'll still be doing that too; woodworker by day and writer by night. I think that'll make him happy."

"I'm sure it would, good luck August."

"Same to you Nurse Swan," he smiled before turning on his heel and walking back towards the church.

"You really are a marvel you know that," Killian said as they began to walk.

"Only because you mention it so often. Thank you for coming with me by the way."

"Of course plus Marco was a great man. Loved Liam and made him some toys when he was a wee lad. And speaking of lad's," he turned to her with a serious expression.

"I called Regina, she had a barrister look over the records you sent her. She's agreed to let you and Henry spend some time together if you're ready for it?"

Emma looked back at the church thinking about everything she had seen the past couple of weeks, "Yes I'm ready. I want to meet my son."

“I’m saying that maybe we aren’t such a good idea anymore; that us being together has caused us more heartache than we can bare,” Belle said looking towards the floor and avoiding Ruby’s eyes.

“Belle please, don’t do this. We can get through this, just please don’t give up on us. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you and what we have together,” Ruby pleaded.

“I love you too,” Belle whispered, “But what do we even have together?”

“We have love, isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t know.”

Ruby didn’t know what to say, she could feel everything falling apart around her and slipping right through her fingers. Belle still wouldn’t look at her, instead, her eyes were trained on the table in front of her, piled high with books.

“If that's what you think, then I can’t change your mind. But just know that I’m not giving up hope for us,” Ruby said before walking out of the study and back to her room. She looked at their beds still pushed together and something in her broke, she sat down as sobs wracked her body. Pulling Belle’s pillow to her chest, muffling the sound of her sobs in it as Belle’s scent flooded her senses. She fell asleep curled around Belle’s pillow after she pushed the beds apart.

“Mrs. Collins, I can see you now,” Belle said, looking up from her clipboard and smiling warmly at a heavily pregnant woman sitting in the waiting area.

“Oh,” Mrs. Collins said looking down at her bump, “That’s all right dear, I need to use the lav. You go onto the next person,” her smile was tight and insincere with her hand protectively over her baby bump.

“I can wait for you, it’s all right,” Belle tried to save face.

“Oh no no no, I’ll just wait and see the next one,” Mrs. Collins insisted. Belle nodded before turning around to get a new clipboard.

“I wouldn’t want to risk it, not with her you know?” the woman next to Mrs. Collins said in a hushed voice. Belle stopped in her tracks, a hard lump forming in her throat.

“I’d rather be safe than sorry, that’s for sure,” Mrs. Collins answered.

“Belle, are you alright?” Emma asked, pulling Belle out of her stupor.

“I’m- I’m fine, thanks for asking Emma,” Belle said breathlessly, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Look, I can take Mrs. Collins but if you need a break, there’s some glassware in the back room that needs sterilizing,” Emma put a comforting hand on Belle’s shoulder while frowning in the direction of Mrs. Collins and the women sitting next to her.

“Thank you,” Belle nodded before rushing towards the back room. Ruby watched as Belle hurried off; feeling the need to go to her but not wanting to overstep the boundaries Belle had already set down.

“Oi, we’ve got a delivery to attend to,” Granny’s gruff voice punctured Ruby’s thoughts.

“Oh um right, let’s go then,” Ruby stuttered not quite sure where to look or what to do with her hands. She gathered her equipment and followed Granny down to their bikes, determined to talk only about the birth and only the birth.

“All right, Mrs. Van Winkle how are we doing today?” Ruby asked as she and Granny walked into the small flat.

“Didn’t even think this one would come today until I stood up and my water broke all over my kitchen floor,” Mrs. Van Winkle groaned as a contraction began. “Jeanne watch the little ones please; make sure they’re occupied,” she gritted out to her teenaged daughter.

“You’d be surprised how often that happens especially once women are on their fifth pregnancy,” Granny said as she guided Mrs. Van Winkle to her bedroom in order to get her ready for labor. Ruby stripped the bed linens and began preparing everything she and Granny would need for the birth as Granny coached Mrs. Van Winkle through her contractions and began to examine her.

“Looks like you’re already 5 centimeters dilated, how long would you say you’ve had contractions dear?” Granny asked.

“It’s hard to tell, I thought it was just those Braxton Hicks things you’ve told me about before and wrote it off. I think they started last night maybe?” Mrs. Van Winkle explained. Granny put her fetoscope to Mrs. Van Winkle’s stomach and listened, a frown creased her eyebrows and she repositioned the fetoscope to a higher positioned and listened.

“Is everything all right?” Mrs. Van Winkle asked looking nervous for the first time since Granny and Ruby had arrived there.

“It would appear that the baby is presenting in a breech position,” Granny explained.

“You’re not fully dilated, we can still move you to Hospital if you would feel more comfortable there,” Ruby suggested.

“No, I’m comfortable here in my own bed where I’ve had all my others,” Mrs. Van Winkle said fiercely.

“Well you’re in luck then, Nurse Lucas is our best midwife when it comes to breech births,” Granny said. Ruby felt her heart skip but didn’t want to dwell too much on Granny’s words; she instead jumped into Granny’s place.

“Okay, Mrs. Van Winkle I’m going to need you to change positions,” Ruby instructed.

“What? I can’t move,” Mrs. Van Winkle said.

“We’ll help you, I know it’s a rotten situation but believe me, this will help ensure that the baby is delivered safely,” Ruby explained.

“She’s right, come on dear we’ll help you get into the right position,” Granny said, supporting Mrs. Van Winkle as she and Ruby helped get her into a sitting position with her bottom nearly off the bed.

“Good this is good,” Ruby whispered to herself, “Okay Mrs. Van Winkle I’m sure you want to give a mighty push as this next contraction comes but this baby needs to come very slowly. So pant, just pant for me,” Ruby demonstrated just to make the message clear. “Little push now,” Ruby got into position between Mrs. van Winkle’s knees as saw the little bottom of the baby pushing its way out of the birth canal. “Okay stop,” Ruby commanded, “You’re doing brilliantly. Little push, little push and stop.”

Mrs. Van Winkle fell back against Granny as the contraction ended, “Good job dear,” she whispered into her ear.

“Bravo, the baby’s bottom is now delivered. Now I need you to stay extremely still as I hook my fingers over her legs and bring them into the world, breathe very gently,” Ruby instructed focusing on delicately birthing the baby’s legs and being mindful of the cord.

“Here Nurse Lucas, so the baby doesn’t get cold,” Granny handed her a clean towel to wrap the baby’s body in.

“Thank you, now keep holding still as I gently loosen my grasp on the baby and let them hang,” Ruby said. Mrs. Van Winkle looked as if Ruby was mad but didn’t move a muscle as Ruby gently eased her hand from the baby and carefully let it hang for just a moment.

“You’re nearly there,” Granny whispered, patting the woman on the shoulder comfortingly.

Ruby could tell another contraction was coming, “Now Mrs. Van Winkle push.” Mrs. Van Winkle gave a guttural yell as she pushed the baby’s head into the world, Ruby gently turned the baby as it eased out of the canal and Granny gently encouraged her until the baby’s cries filled the room. Mrs. Van Winkle slumped against Granny in exhaustion.

“It’s a girl!” Ruby smiled as she more securely wrapped the newborn in the towel and put her in her mother’s waiting arms. Mrs.Van Winkle smiled down at her new daughter as Ruby cut the cord. Once the placenta had been born and Granny made sure the baby, now named Lucy, had latched properly and begun to nurse, Ruby and Granny made their way back to Antioch House.

“I meant what I said in there,” Granny spoke up as they locked up their bicycles.

“What?”

“I meant it when I said that you are the best when it comes to breech births,” Granny said firmly. “And Nurse French is one of the most well-read midwives we’ve had in years. It would be a disservice to the community if you two were to ever leave.”

“Neither of us wants to leave,” Ruby said, catching onto what Granny was saying. “But we understand if we couldn’t live in Antioch House anymore.”

“Nurse Lucas why on earth would you and Nurse French not be allowed to live in Antioch House?”

“Because of what you saw-”

“What I saw was two people who clearly love each other.”

“But you’re a nun and the Bible says-”

“My dear I know exactly what the Bible says,” Granny said sternly, “But I think some people focus too closely on individual scriptures and forget the overall message of it.”

“So we can stay here?”

“So long as my stubborn arse lives here, there will always be a home here for you and Nurse French,” Granny smiled warmly at Ruby. Before she could stop herself Ruby threw her arms around Granny, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she sniffled into the old woman’s habit.

“Now go, tell her,” Granny said, “And be happy.” Ruby nodded and sprinted into Antioch House and up to her and Belle’s room, finding Belle sitting on her bed reading a file.

“Thank god you’re here, I have something I wanted to talk to you about,” Ruby said sitting next to Belle. “What’s this?” she asked gesturing to the file in Belle’s hands.

“It’s the post mortem file from Philip Thompson,” Belle said.

“What does it say?” Ruby asked her excitement fading.

“That he had a lung defect, nothing that I nor anyone could have seen when he was born. It wasn’t my fault.”

“You see? I knew it wasn’t,” Ruby smiled wide. “How’s the family taking it?”

“They’re relieved that at least they have an answer to what happened, but I don’t know how you could ever bounce back from that,” Belle whispered.

“I think they can with time, I mean look at Granny. She’s dealt with everything from cholera outbreaks to air raids but she’s still here. She’s had to have seen some of the worst that can happen in these conditions but she’s just as stubborn as ever.”

Belle chuckled but it seemed she realized how closely she and Ruby were sitting and scooted back, “You’ve talked to Granny?”

“Yeah we had a delivery together and actually she told me that she accepts us and that we’ll always have a place here if we want it,” Ruby said. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Want to stay here with me?”

Belle’s eyes finally connected with Ruby’s for the first time since Granny found them together, “I would love that.”

They pushed their beds back together that night.

Rose went to the drawer and gently spread out a knitted baby blanket on the bed, “Aurora was wrapped up in this when she was born, same as I was when my mum had me,” she beamed with pride at her new grandson.

Belle wrapped the wriggling baby into the well-loved blanket and gently settled him onto Aurora’s chest, “Do you have a name picked out?”

“Philip,” Aurora looked down adoringly at her son, “After his father.” She stroked her index finger over his face. Belle and Rose helped to clean everything up as Aurora and the baby bonded.

“She was so nervous about this one, especially after losing the other so early on,” Rose whispered to Belle.

“Well, I’ll make sure this one gets the absolute best care I can give,” Belle reassured the mother and snapped her bag shut. Aurora let out a yawn, the early hour and the hard labor catching up to her.

“Here love, why don’t we let you rest for a minute and I’ll take little Philip here to meet his father and grandparents?”

“Okay just be careful with him, he's so tiny,” Aurora carefully placed her son into her mother’s arms. Rose and Belle chuckled softly to each other as they left the room.

“She's going to be a wonderful mother,” Belle said to Rose.

“Of that, I have no doubt, Aurora has wanted to be a mother since she was about 6. She was so heartbroken when she miscarried last year; this baby is such a gift to all of us,” Rose gazed down at her grandson.

“I'm so happy I could be here to help,” Belle smiled as they came into the living room where the rest of the family was waiting. Belle hung back, giving the family a chance to coo over the new addition.

“Philip, you have a son,” Rose announced, Philip let out the breath he was holding and smiled.

“Good job son,” a short and squat man clapped Philip on the back.

“Now Hubert, I believe my daughter is the one who did a majority of the work today,” a tall man with salt and pepper hair spoke up. He crossed the room and gave Rose a gentle kiss on the cheek, “How’s Aurora doing?”

“She's fine Stephan, just resting. Lord knows these two will need it,” she chuckled before handing the baby to Philip. The young father looked down in complete awe at his son.

“Well I say this calls for a celebration,” Hubert produced a bottle of fine scotch from the liquor cabinet. He poured a generous portion into several glasses and passed them around to everyone in the room. Belle tried to quietly excuse herself to let the family celebrate when Hubert held out a tumbler of scotch out to her.

“We can't forget you, nurse, for making sure everything went smoothly,” he explained.

“Oh, I couldn't really,” Belle protested.

“Nonsense! No harm in a little celebration,” he pressed the glass into Belle’s hands. She looked down at it, barely a sip had been poured out for her. What could one little drink hurt?

“Very well thank you!” She smiled and raised her glass along with everyone else.

“To my grandson Philip Jr! May he grow up into someone we can all be proud of,” Stephan toasted and everyone knocked back their drinks. The pleasant burn of alcohol dripped down Belle’s throat and warmed her belly. She thanked them for the drink and went on her way to start her rounds through the rest of Storybrooke.

“Hello Nurse, would you like a cup of tea? I just put the kettle on,” Rose asked as Belle came around the next day for Aurora and the baby’s postnatal check up.

“No thank you, Mrs. Drake, I’m afraid this is just a fly by visit to make sure Aurora and the baby are doing well,” Belle said as she climbed up the stairs to their flat.

“They’ll be in the bedroom, Little Philip went down for a nap a while ago so he might be getting up any minute now,” Rose called as she went to go take care of the whistling kettle.

“Good afternoon Mrs. Thompson,” Belle knocked lightly on the side of the door to the bedroom before tiptoeing inside.

“Afternoon Nurse French,” Aurora smiled, “I’ll tell you he never cries.” Aurora tried to sit up in bed and reach for the baby but she winced slightly.

“Rest now, your mother’s bringing you some tea,” Belle reassured her as she crossed the room to the crib where Philip Jr was sleeping.

“It’s worth the pain, having him here finally,” Aurora smiled and rested against the headboard. Belle smiled and looked down into the crib and noticed immediately that something was wrong; the baby was very still and nearly blue. Belle frowned and placed her fingers underneath Philip’s nostrils, he was cool to the touch and Belle felt no breath. She acted quickly, shaking him gently.

“Nurse? What’s wrong?” Aurora asked as Belle picked up the baby up out of the crib when he did not respond.

“He’s not breathing,” Belle said quickly, trying to bounce him gently in order to get him to breath.

“What? What do you mean?” Aurora heaved herself out of bed, trying to get a look at her son. Rose came running into the room hearing the commotion and Aurora’s panicked voice.

“What’s going on?” she watched in horror as Belle gently laid the baby on the floor to begin CPR.

“Mrs. Drake I need you to call Dr. Whale immediately, tell him it’s urgent,” Belle said quickly.

“Mum?” Aurora asked tearfully, panic starting to set into her. Rose hesitated at the door torn between comforting her daughter and running to the phone booth on the corner.

“Quickly Mrs. Drake and no one else is allowed to come into this room. Do you understand me?” Belle said quickly starting chest compressions on the infant. Rose sprinted from the doorway, her frantic footsteps descending the stairs outside.

“My baby, Nurse what’s happening?” Aurora asked, leaning down as if to pick him up.

“Aurora please get back into bed,” Belle pleaded but the young mother stood her ground.

“For God’s sake do something!” Aurora pleaded, clutching the cross that hung from a chain around her neck. “Please Lord please not my baby please!” she sobbed.

Belle opened the airway and breathed two small breaths into the baby’s open mouth, before placing her ear to his mouth to see if she could hear even the smallest of breaths of his own. She repeated the compressions, trying desperately to feel a heartbeat under her fingers, but after 5 long minutes, she knew it was hopeless. She sat back up, tears starting to pool in her eyes.

“What’s happening?” Aurora asked, looking down at her baby’s motionless body.

“He’s- he’s gone,” Belle choked out, not meeting Aurora’s eyes. Aurora collapsed to the floor, her body shaking as each sob racked her body. Belle pulled the corner of the baby blanket up to cover Philip Jr’s face as if it were a shroud and picked him up to place him back in his crib so that at least he wouldn’t have to be on the floor anymore. Belle gripped the bars as a wave of nausea almost overwhelmed her, she fought it down as she turned to see Aurora still collapsed on the floor. Belle could process her feelings later, now she needed to be there for the mother who had now lost not one, but two children. She wrapped her arms around Aurora’s shoulders and tried to guide her into a sitting position. They both looked up as Rose, Dr. Whale, and Sister Ingrid stepped quietly into the room.

Dr. Whale put the earpieces of his stethoscope into his ears and tried to find a heartbeat as Rose helped Belle guide Aurora back to bed.

“Mrs. Thompson I’m very sorry,” Dr. Whale began. Fresh tears streamed down Aurora’s face when she looked up into Dr. Whale’s grim face.

“I don’t understand, he was right as rain. How can this happen?” Rose asked, rubbing small circles on her daughter’s back.

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that Mrs. Drake. Due to the young age of your boy and his sudden passing we are going to have to perform a post-mortem to fulfill the requirements of the inquiry that needs to be made. I assure you we will take the greatest of care with him,” Dr. Whale explained.

“I want to hold him,” Aurora whispered, her eyes still on the crib.

“Aurora…” Rose said in protest.

“I want to hold my son,” Aurora said forcefully. Dr. Whale nodded solemnly and reached into the crib. He placed her son carefully in Aurora’s arms.

“Did your son have a name?” Sister Ingrid asked quietly.

“We named him after me,” Philip stood in the doorway, his eyes going straight to Aurora and his son, “We wanted Philip Jr.”

“May I say a blessing for him?” she asked. Aurora and Philip nodded. “I am the resurrection, and the life, sayeth the Lord. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Amen.”

Whispers of amen came from everyone else in the room as Sister Ingrid finished her blessing. She held out her arms to take the baby from Aurora, the young mother placed a tender kiss on the forehead of the child she would never get to know in a silent goodbye before collapsing into the arms of her mother. Belle tried to think of something to say or do to help but found herself at a loss for words. She looked up and saw the elder Philip staring at her with wet angry eyes before he turned sharply and left the room.

Belle tried to keep her composure until she returned to Antioch House, there in the entryway Elsa and Emma welcomed her with kind words and warm hugs.

“I couldn’t save him,” Belle cried into their shoulders. “I tried so hard.”

“You did everything that you could have,” Emma said. “You did what any of us would have done in that situation.”

Belle sniffed and looked down at her watch, “I’m late, I’ve already missed 3 house calls.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, we will cover your appointments,” Elsa assured her.

“Hot chocolate, aspirin, and bed for you Nurse French,” Granny said as she walked up to them, warmth coming through her typically stern demeanor. “No arguments.”

A few days later Belle found herself sitting across from Constable Humbert in one of the meeting rooms of Antioch House a thick file about what had happened sitting in front of him.

“Nurse French, you said there was nothing about the birth that felt off to you?“

“No, nothing at all,” Belle answered, wringing her hands underneath the table as Graham wrote down her answers.

“And you’re sure that you would have noticed if anything was out of the ordinary?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well according to the logbooks, you had returned from a very late delivery before going off to deliver the Thompson baby,” Graham said showing her the pages from the logbooks of the night before the Thompson delivery and the morning of.

“Yes we had an emergency delivery, but it happens quite often. What exactly are you asking me, Constable?”

“It’s just that I know I can be a bit... fuzzy after a long night. Sometimes we’re more tired than we realize or if we didn’t take the time to rest properly once we get home” Graham explained gently. Belle tried to keep her expression neutral and not think about how Ruby had kept her up a little later then she should have let her.

“Constable Humbert, we are trained to work long hours. We are used to it as you well know,” Belle shook her head at him. The tips of Graham’s ears went slightly pink as he nodded and looked back to the file.

“Again you will forgive me for the nature of some of these questions but do you often drink while on delivery?”

“What?” Belle asked, shocked that he would even think to ask that.

“It’s just that Mr. Thompson told us that you had a spot of whiskey while at his house-”

“It was a toast!” Belle explained, “The baby had already been born by then and the grandparents insisted I have a sip. Am I being accused of something?” Graham didn’t look at her directly but Belle could see that the pink color was spreading to his cheeks. “I can assure you that I did everything that I possibly could to make sure that that baby was delivered safely and healthily.”

“Nurse French, you do understand we have to ask these questions for this kind of inquiry?” Graham said finally. Belle nodded, a deep sick feeling began taking root in her stomach as she went over that morning again and again in her mind. Once Graham finally had all the answers she could possibly give, he snapped the file shut and attempted to give her a reassuring smile before walking out of the convent. Belle made a beeline for the small secluded library inside Antioch and started pulling all the books she could find on abnormal births and infant death. What if she really had missed something and doomed that little boy? What if it was all her fault? She poured over the books, searching for anything to give her answers until her eyes burned with tiredness. She hadn’t realized that she had fallen asleep until Ruby was shaking her awake.

“What time is it?” she asked, wincing as she straightened up in her chair, her back stiff and sore from the uncomfortable sleeping position.

“Half past one in the morning, what are you doing down here?” Ruby asked, sitting on the table next to Belle’s pile of books.

“Trying to see if I missed something,” Belle said, turning back to the page she had been sleeping on.

“Belle, you did everything you could have-”

“What if I didn’t?” Belle slammed the book shut, “I hear the way the mothers talk about me at Tuesday clinic, I answered all the questions the constable had, people think I did this. That I’m responsible for that little boy. And what if I am? What if this really is all my fault?”

“That’s not true, you know it’s not true,” Ruby put her hands on Belle’s shoulders. “I know you, and you are the most thorough person I know and you take the best notes. Anything that could have been out of the ordinary that you could have noticed would have been there and you would have known how to handle it. If you can’t believe in yourself, then maybe try believing in me and how much I believe in you.”

“But what if-” Belle started.

“But nothing, you are going to drive yourself up a wall if you keep dealing in what-ifs. You did everything that you could do, some things are just out of our control. Now the tests from the post mortem will be completed soon and you and the parents and soon everyone in Storybrooke will have an answer for what happened to the baby. Until then please just stop doubting yourself and your abilities,” Ruby pleaded. Belle nodded, Ruby’s words soothing her worries like a balm. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Ruby’s in a kiss, thanking her for being there and providing the words she needed to hear. Her hand buried itself in Ruby’s hair and her other arm wrapped around her waist to pull her closer.

Someone gasped and dropped something, Ruby and Belle sprung apart and looked to the door which was wide open. Granny stood there, a shattered mug and a puddle of tea at her feet, staring at Ruby and Belle. The three of them stared at each other, unsure of what to do before Granny shook her head slightly and walked away leaving them in stunned silence.

Emma paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer. One part of her body told her firmly not to hold him that it would only make it harder when she had to give him up; another much smaller part longed to just hold him at least once. Emma swallowed and nodded, holding out her arms for her son- the baby, she mentally corrected herself. She looked down at his face, a shock of dark brown hair visible underneath the cap the midwife had put on his head. She saw so much of his father in him already and Emma had to fight back tears as she gazed at his little face.

“Do you have a name picked out for him?” Nurse Fox asked as she cleaned up.

“No, um I’m not-” Emma stuttered but Nurse Fox placed a hand on Emma’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, you’re not the first one who’s had to give their child their best chance,” the nurse said. Emma nodded at her, an understanding falling over both of them. Emma went back to the baby’s face, searching for her features there. She found her chin and her ears amongst the sea of his father’s features. Emma tried not to imagine what he would look like when he got older, wondering if he’ll be tall or have dimples. That was a dangerous line of thinking for her, she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t be a mother, but as she continued to hold him in her arms all the rationalizations and explanations Emma had told herself before began to grow fainter in the back of her mind.

Three days later Emma was in her room, trying to nurse the baby but her milk refused to come in. Emma looked around the barren room; stripped down to the bare necessities of living. There were worse places she could have given birth in, a friendly priest had agreed to take her in after seeing her pregnant and on the street. There, she was given proper medical care and more food than she knew what to do with. But it was still no place to raise a child; children needed room to play and to be loud and to call their own. Emma shook herself from her thoughts at a knock at her door.

“Still no milk yet?” a thin severe looking woman barked at her. Ms. De Vil wasn’t exactly the type of woman you’d expect to be in charge of a women’s safety clinic but she did have a way of keeping things orderly.

“No I’m afraid not,” Emma shook her head.

“Well maybe it’s best to stop for right now Miss Swan, the adoptive parents are here.”

“Oh already?” Emma tightened her grip on the fussing baby.

“Yes, the agency here is very efficient. They were able to find someone to adopt your son. Now why don’t I take the baby so he and his new mother can get acquainted and you can pack up his things and think of anything that could be helpful for her to know.” Cruella extended her arms. Emma considered for a moment just refusing, just taking her son and escaping with only the clothes on her back, but she knew this was the only way to give the boy his best chance.

“Okay little one, I’ll see you in a few minutes and I’ll give you a proper goodbye,” She lowered her head and gave him a tender kiss on the forehead before handing him over to Ms. De Vil.

“There we are darling, now don’t fret. You’re young, you’ll be able to bounce back in no time,” the older woman said before carrying the baby out of the room. Emma tried not to feel hurt and angry at Ms. De Vil’s words, but she couldn’t help it if she maybe tossed baby clothes, nappies, booties, and a blanket into a bag with a little more force than usual. Emma contemplated writing him a letter for him to read when he got older, something to just let him know why she had to do this. She heard the sound of a car starting and suddenly a cold shiver ran down her neck, she knew something wasn’t right.

Emma ran out of them room and down the halls, throwing herself through the doors of the clinic just in time to see a sleek black car turn out of the driveway and onto the main road. Emma struggled to catch her breath as hot tears slid down her face. They had taken her son from her and she didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. Emma fell to her knees sobbing as the last shred of family was ripped from her. She didn’t even register a nurse coming to help get her back to her room, she laid on her bed staring at the bag full of baby things still sitting where she had left it.

Emma’s milk came in two days later.

“Oh my god my rug, you’ve ruined my rug!” Regina screeched at Emma, pulling her out of her stupor. Emma looked from the half empty glass in her hand to the wet stain still spreading on Regina’s fancy rug.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Emma said rising from the couch. “I’ll grab a towel, trust me I’m quite good at getting stains out.” Emma ran out of the room, purposefully keeping her eyes down so she didn’t catch anyone’s eye. She methodologically collected the necessary tools for stain removal, trying to process what had just happened.

“Swan?” Killian stood in the doorway, his brows knitted together.

“I’m just getting everything to get the stain out. I need warm water and vinegar and towels and dish soap and-” Emma rambled.

“Fuck Regina’s carpet, are you okay Swan?” Killian asked, grabbing onto her shoulders and steadying her.

“I’m fine, the glass just slipped-”

“Emma please, I’m worried about you.” Killian’s hand reached up and cupped her cheek.

“Killian I just- I can’t talk about it right now.” Emma sighed.

“Later then?” Killian asked. Emma nodded leaning into his touch, Killian pulled her into a tight hug and pressed his lips to her temple. They went back to the party, supplies in hand and Emma busied herself lifting the stain from the couch and carpet.

“Good as new,” she forced a smile at Regina, trying to keep her emotions under control. Regina surveyed her with a raised eyebrow before nodding her head and walking over to her son.

“Why doesn’t Henry open his presents?” David said trying to break the tension.

“Yeah can I mom?” Henry asked enthusiastically. Regina nodded and sat him in a comfortable looking arm chair. Emma watched as he tore into a new cricket bat from his mother, a large leather bound storybook from Mary Margaret and David and a new pen and stationery set. She tried not to imagine herself in Regina’s place, sitting next to Henry and smiling with pride as she celebrated her son’s birthday. She tried to hold it together as Henry blew out the candles and they all had a slice of cake.

Mercifully they were able to go back to Storybrooke in order for Leo to get to bed on time.

“Liam, go with Mary Margaret, I’ll come back and bring you home in a bit,” Killian said.

“You guys are going to go be gross and kiss-y, aren’t you?” Liam asked looking from Killian to Emma.

David chuckled and wrapped his arm around Liam’s shoulders. “We’ll take care of him, you two go have fun,” he winked and led Liam in the direction of his building. Killian took Emma’s hand, linking their fingers together and they walked in silence towards their bench at the docks.

“So I understand if you don’t want to talk about it yet Emma, but just know that whatever it is I’m still here for you to lean on if you want me,” Killian assured her.

“Thank you,” Emma took a deep breath before blurting out the truth. “Henry is my son.”

Killian sat in shocked silence trying to process what he just heard, “How- how do you know?”

“When I was young I was pregnant and I was in no way ready to be a mother. I was barely able to scrounge together enough food for myself let alone a baby so I had to give him up. Henry looks just like his father.”

“Wow, I can’t even imagine how hard today must have been, I’m so sorry Emma.”

“It’s not your fault, I had to give him his best chance and Regina seems to be giving that to him.”

“It’s not enough is it?”

“No, not even close. But what can I do? I can’t just barge in and say ‘Hello, I’m your birth mom, sorry I acted so strangely at your party but I thought i’d never see you again after they took you away from me and I didn’t even get to say goodbye,’” Emma stopped herself once she realized how much she had said. She looked up to see Killian’s eyes round as saucers.

“You didn’t even get to say goodbye to him?”

“No,” Emma shook her head.

“I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Milah,” he shared. Emma turned to look up at him. “She went into labor and the nurses wouldn’t let me into the room with her, I remember sitting in our kitchen so nervous and excited and then one of them came out and told me to call the hospital. She was unconscious when they carried her out to the ambulance. And so I waited and I waited in that hospital hallway and the older nurse came out with Liam in her arms but a grim look on her face and she told me that Milah was gone.”

“Killian-” Emma whispered, this was the most Killian had ever told her about Milah.

“I won’t get a chance to see Milah again, to get closure. But you Swan, you have a chance to get to know Henry. When Regina knows the truth she might be willing to let you see him, to get to know him.”

“But what if that’s not what Henry wants?” Emma asked, wringing her hands together.

“Then at least you know, and I will be right here next to you if in the small small chance that does happen.”

“Thanks,” Emma smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered into her hair. They both sat in silence staring out at the boats with a new weight to bear between the two of them.