Mother and Father (OUAT fanfic)

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Word count:768

Your POV:

~9 years ago~

I thought I knew worse pain, clearly, I didn't. No one has actually been in pain unless she has experienced a child being popped out of her. My insides were turning and sweat rippled down my forehead, entangling with my messy hair.

Tears were spilling out of my eyes. My breath was heavy, and I'm pretty sure Malcolm's hand was about ready to fly off. He stayed by my side the whole time. Exclaiming how I was doing a good job and I would be okay.

I didn't feel like I was doing a good job. I was 19. (Yes, in this story Malcolm isn't as old) And I was unmarried. Having a child out of wedlock was like a crime. Of course, with no punishment. The only form of 'punishment' would be the judge mentally eyes of people when I would walk the streets with a baby in my stomach.

We were having a son. A strong little boy that would grow up to be just like his father. He would have a family of his own at the right age. A wife and kids. It was the normal for our time period. Now, it is still likely for people to have children obviously. But it was much different. Every woman wasn't required to have at least one child.

Back to my thoughts, my heartbeat raced with thoughts consisting of wonders like if my child is going to be okay, if he was going to turn out a 'good child', if he was going to love us or hate us, am I going to be a good mother and wife to my family?

That all stop when I heard the small newborn cries of my son. My beautiful little boy with bright green eyes and small, gingered colored baby hairs on top of his head. 

My little boy.

I turned to my fiancé, a wide smile on his face, tears overlapping. I don't think I've ever seen him this emotional. He liked to keep things bottled up most of the time. Sometimes I've managed to get a few things out of him but not much.

I gently held our son in my arms, his small face was the size of my hand. He had the littlest hands and fingers. His little nose, eyes, lips, legs, arms. He was just tiny.

He was the littlest babe, helpless and all mine.

It wasn't long before his baby screams filled the room again. My ears rang, I'm sure Malcolm's did too. The small whimpers made my heart sink. He sounded like he was dying.

I hummed a light song, soothing his cries for help. His whimpering voice faded from the room. Only small chokes of tears left in his eyes. I smiled, turning to Malcolm, then back to my son.

My eyes sparkled with fresh tears. "He needs a name, don't you think?" I mumbled, my voice cracking at every word.

Malcolm nodded his head. "I think he does. What about... Rumpelstiltskin."  

I raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was a mad man. 

"Rumpl- Rumpelstiltskin? What kind of name is that?" I questioned, turning my upper body towards him.

He lifted his shoulders, shaking his head. "I don't know, I knew a man named Rumpelstiltskin. At least he won't be the only one in the world with that name." He chuckled, showing his smug smile.

I gave into his plead. With a sigh, "Fine you crazy man." I giggled. He leaned over me and Rumple, giving me a small kiss on my lips.

"How are you feeling?" Malcolm asked, leaning back in his old, dusty, wooden chair. I smiled with a sigh.

"A lot better now that this little man is out." I smiled, fixing the blanket Rumple was wrapped in. It was a small, knitted blanket. Hues of greens, yellows, and blues. He stirred, getting in his first few movements on earth.

He smiled, reaching his hand out to touch his son's hand. Rumples fingers curled around his father's single one. Malcolm's face lit up, his eyes finally going soft. The realization hit him. He was finally a father.

Small tears trickled down his face, his lip quivering out from under him. 

"You okay, love?" I asked, leaning as best as I could to look at his face. He quickly yet gently pushed me back down onto my pillow. "Yes, I am. I'm more than okay." He smiled, kissing my forehead then hovering over his son. 

Malcolm pressed his own two fingers to his lips, then gently pressed them to Rumple's forehead.

"That's my boy." He generously smiled. I smiled at the pair; we were finally having our happy moment.

That moment was soon ruined.