Summary: The Final Battle is approaching—whatever the hell that is. Apparently Emma has a part to play, though she has no idea what exactly is required of her—or what it will cost her. All she knows is that the two pink lines on her pregnancy test just raised the stakes.
A/N: Heyyyyyy sorry this took so long. I’ll try to be a bit faster with the next one!
March begins with back-to-back snowstorms. To Ian’s dismay, they both fall on consecutive Saturdays and don’t disrupt school at all; instead, they provide the perfect incentive to stay inside and finally convert Ian’s old room into a nursery. It’s Sunday evening, the latest storm is well over, the roads and sidewalks are cleared, the car shoveled out, and everyone is hard at work.
“Ugh,” groans Ian from the kitchen, informing them for the fifth time in as many minutes that he’s supremely dissatisfied with the current state of affairs.
Killian and Emma have been ignoring his complaints since they sat him down that afternoon with the homework he neglected all weekend. Henry, however, has apparently had enough.
“Oh my God, Ian!” he bursts from his bedroom. “Shut up about it already! I’m trying to write a paper!”
Ian replies with another loud, even more petulant groan. Killian hears Henry’s desk chair scrape the floor, pounding footsteps—he braces himself to intervene, but Henry merely slams his door.
Emma snorts from where she’s folding onesies. “I think we’ve all been in the house too long.”
