She never intended for this to happen, as cliché as it sounded. She was a business woman, and an important one at that. Sure, it was a little shady, but money was money as far as she was concerned. She didn't have time for this shit. She couldn't be out of commission due to one little slip up. She was a woman who would never let this happen, who wasn't prepared. She was scared. But it was the truth, as two little pink lines stared her in the face: Cinder Fall was pregnant.

Five weeks ago was the start of this whole mess; just a simple meeting over dinner with a possible business partner. Adam Taurus, a young up-and-coming man in the world, and head of Fang and Associates, was to be her lawyer and help find as many loopholes as she could jump through. He was a handsome man, serious face and shocking red hair that hid short horns, distinguishing him from the human population as a faunus. The night ended favourably, in more ways than one.

To celebrate their accord, a bottle or three of wine had been shared, which led to a rather sloppy evening indeed. A week later, Cinder found herself bent over the toilet first thing in the morning as she heaved her very foundations into the porcelain basin. The small plastic stick she now held confirmed her worst fear. What was worse, is she had to tell Adam, though the meeting went smoother than she would have thought. Now she just had to break it to her other business partner, Roman Torchwick.

She perched herself on the couch in her living room as she heard the front door open, the sleek red-head stepping into the house with a loud Honey, I'm home! He swaggered into the room, crossing to the bar on the far wall and pouring himself a tumbler of deep brown liquor before offering one to the woman behind him, who gladly in an overstuffed armchair with a smug grin as the petite woman before him rolled her eyes, he took a sip and began.

"Well, it's not often you invite me to the palace this early. Something big must be happening." A single eye looked across the room, sparkling with mischief and a promise of something darker. "Would you care to share with the class?" His smooth tones drawled. Gold eyes bored into him as Cinder sat staring at him, stone faced and serious, yet still holding an air of regality and opulence. Taking a draught from her own glass, she relished the smooth burn as it rolled across her tongue and down her throat to steel her nerves as she spoke up.

"I'm pregnant." A spray of liquid spewed from across the room, Roman choking with eyes wide.

"No. No way." Laughter filled the space and Roman doubled over, holding his gut. "When the hell did you start telling jokes? There is no fuckin' way you of all people could get pregnant." The man's laughter soon turned panicked as the deadpan he faced never changed. "But seriously. You can't be pregnant. You're Cinder Fall: Queen of the criminal underworld." For her part, Cinder continued impassively staring through Roman and simply nodded and silence descended upon them in a thick, smothering blanket.

The clock on the wall ticked endlessly, counting the seconds that dripped by as the realization crashed over the man with the brunt force of a tidal wave. One of the most powerful women he had ever known was now with child, and rather matter-of-fact about it. Questions shot through his head at lightening speeds. How? When? Why had this happened? How did Cinder allow for this to happen? But the single most pressing question was simple: Who?

"Who is it." He questioned, all emotion falling from his face, leaving in it's place a hard mask of stoicism.

"Taurus." Was all the reply he got. All he needed.

"Does he know?"

"I told him, yes."

"So then what did he have to say?" The tumbler of bourbon now sat untouched to Roman's right on a coffee table, his full attention drawn to the quagmire before him.

"We both agreed that we can't have a child. He cannot afford a bastard born out of a one night affair with one of the biggest crime bosses around, especially if he plans to continue his run for office." Roman simply nodded. It would otherwise mean terrible publicity for the younger man, attention that would best stay out of the public eye. "As for me, I have no time for such nonsense. I have a business to run, and besides, no child should ever be cursed to have me for a mother."

Roman gave a heavy sigh as he turned this all over in his mind, thinking up possible outcomes for thousands of scenarios. "What's your plan now?"

"Honestly, I want to get rid of it. I'm still only a few weeks along. I could easily abort it. Adam said he would pay any and all expenses if it meant I'd keep it under wraps."

Red brows furrowed as the gears in his head turned. Roman may have been a hardened criminal, but children still held a soft spot in his heart, but not so much as the woman before him. He cared for the woman a great deal, verging almost on Love, and he always hated the way the woman barely cared for herself.

Many times he came into the house to find the petite woman passed out on the couch or over the toilet, drink in hand. Others he would find she hadn't slept in at least a day, nor having eaten. It was no way for anyone to live their life, criminal or not. He only wanted what was best for her, whether she knew it or not. Maybe having this child could do what he couldn't? Maybe it could finally force her into caring for herself better? Maybe it would finally be just the thing to bring the two of them together?

"Whoa there, let's not jump to anything drastic here." He had to think fast, find a way to word this to hide his true intentions. "He's paying for everything, right? We could easily use that to our advantage." A single dark eyebrow arched at the prospect, urging him to continue. "Let's say we need a little funding to go into one of our operations. Instead of robbing someone, we could buddy up to Taurus, bat our eyelashes, and ask 'Adam dearest, the baby needs money for something' and hey presto, we get bull-boy's money backing our cause." Roman could see this information starting to work in his favour, and decided to put the last nail in the coffin. "We could also always use the kid as a bargaining chip. We get what we want, or the story goes public."

Silence once again descended as Cinder debated the proposition. Nine months isn't that terribly long, is it? Besides, with Adam paying for everything, it wouldn't cost her a cent, along with assuring her anything and everything she could ever want from Adam for the rest of her foreseeable future. She thought of every scenario, a wicked grin sliding across rouge lips as she realized that her partner was right. This could work out beautifully. Besides, she might now have an heir to pass her work down to.

"You're right, Roman, I think this could work. We'll see how this goes." The man grinned to himself, relaxing slightly.

"I'll be right beside you the whole way." He tossed out. "You probably shouldn't do this all on your own." Golden eyes rolled in annoyance, but deep down he knew she was thankful. A sudden chill shot down his spine as he realized something; had she been drinking all this time?

In the blink of an eye, Roman was across the room, knocking the crystal tumbler from her hand, just as she was bringing it to her lips, which turned into a snarling grimace as she shot up immediately, the shattering of glass against fine hardwood ringing through the room.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Her tone was low and even, notes of danger singing through a timbre of liquid fire. But Roman never flinched, believing the safety of both mother and child to be more important than his own.

"Rule number one, Mama bear," He sang as he pried lacquered nails from the front of his fine suit. "No booze with a baby on board." The smaller woman stood fuming as Roman turned from her, walked over to her liquor cabinet, stripping off his jacket, and loading it as full of bottles as he could manage. "So I'll just be taking these, and you can have them all back after nine months."

"Roman I swear to you if you don't put those bottles down," Venom dripped from her words, the small tick in her eyebrown becoming apparent as Roman walked to the door and nudged it open with his foot. "I will do everything within my power" across the lawn he went, up to his car, followed by a tiny, fuming woman, and loaded them all into the trunk of the sleek automobile. "to make your life absolutely miserable." He turned around to see the five-foot force of nature standing red faced and about to burst a blood vessel.

"There is no way I'm giving those back. You have to think of the baby now." But that only served to anger the woman more. In hindsight, it was a rather silly reason to be angry, but in her current hormone addled brain, the removal of not only all the liquor, but her liquor was high treason. Sure she knew she couldn't drink excessively while pregnant, but she was a grown woman. She could handle a small nip now and then. How else would she be able to deal with the ineptitude of the world around her? Did Roman really have that little faith in her restraint?

"You think I can't handle myself? Roman I swear to you one bottle will not hurt anything! Besides that is expensive liquor!"

"Nope. No can do." That was it. With all the estrogen in her system fuelling her stress, her blood pressure spiked, and a vessel burst. As she coiled back for another verbal strike, the first trickle of blood dripped from her nose to her lip, and in a flash Roman locked on to it, scooped her up into his arms, and dashed into the house. Depositing a stunned-silent Cinder on to the couch, he dashed into the kitchen to grab a towel, and in a great show of athleticism vaulted over the back of the couch, catching his foot on the back and landing on his face in the cushions beside the woman. She took the towel from him, still slightly dazed at the theatrics, and pressed it to her nose to staunch the flow then grabbed one of his still vertical legs, and gave it a hard shove, sending the man sprawling to the floor before her. Roman jumped to his feet, then settled himself beside her.

"My point exactly. You get too carried away, and you could end up hurting the baby, or worse, yourself." Green eyes flashed with worry as Cinder pulled the bloody towel from her face and turned to look at him, annoyance etched in the space between her brows.

"Get out." The command was quiet but firm. "Roman, get out. You know damn well I can take care of myself. You will not be controlling nor watching my every move within the next few months, and if you try so help me god I will not hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes. Now leave." Gold eyes seemed to flicker like coals as fury coated her every word. The worst part was, she was serious, and Roman knew it. The woman had guns stored throughout the whole house: under couches and tables, in fake books, under sinks, in the taxidermied bear in her study. She had the means, and god knows she'd shot a man before. What would stop her this time?

A quiet nod saw Roman standing and moving towards the door, with a cautionary glance over his shoulder to the woman behind him who stared blankly at the wall before her. The arched tiffany glass doors opening and shutting behind him as he crossed the lawn, stepped into his car, and drove off in a manner most somber.

Quiet settled on the house as a realization crashed over Cinder with the weight of a thousand fears. She was going to be a mother. Sure, she was pregnant, but now she was going to be a mother. It was an entirely different state. One suggested holding life, but the other meant to nurture life. To carry life was an idea Cinder could comprehend, even on the most basic, instinctual level, but to actually bear such a burden into the physical realm was unheard of. She was a proud woman, who bowed to none. She had blood on her hands. She was a monster. Monsters could never have children. Could they? What would come from one monster, but another? She was in no way maternal, nor had she any intent to actually keep the baby, let alone raise it.

But now, she was to be a mother. A figurehead. A guide. She was to be something she could never even hope to achieve. She couldn't be good. A small part of her thought that no child should ever be cursed to have her as their mother. But in reality, that was all she could be: A Mother. Not a mom, but just a bringer of life. A vessel. The admission rang through her mind in a slow dirge, a canon of her own self doubts and anger swirling about in a torrent of melancholy and fear. With one impossible thought to the woman broken with this sudden fruition, she allowed for the second time that day an impossibility to happen. She cried.

She was no stranger to hangovers, pounding headaches and nausea in the morning were nothing new. But they could be a little disconcerting when she hadn't had a drink in the past week. Yet here she was, Cinder Fall, mighty queen of the underground, on the floor bent into the toilet as her body gave earth-shattering heaves into the basin before her. A week had passed since she last saw Roman and he took her liquor, and she was positively on edge without the sweet burn to still her nerves. One final rib-cracking retch later, she pulled the lever on the back of the toilet, and allowed her sore body to slump to the cool tiles of the master bathroom's floor. Third time this week, she had counted, and it was only Tuesday. The cool tiles pressed against her sweltering face and shoulders gave her something to focus on as she tried to calm the tremors and gasping that shook her small frame. Seven weeks in and she was already tired of this shit. Shifting so as to get a better look at her stomach, she sent a silent question of why? when her phone began to cry out, business quite literally calling.

She hauled herself off the floor with a groan and shambled over to her bedside table and picked up the device.

"What?" was her terse greeting.

"Well good morning to you too, Mama Bear." The snarky tone was exactly what she wanted to hear this morning. Eyebrows pinched and nose crumpled in annoyance at the moniker.

"What do you want, Roman?"

"Easy there." he chuckled. "Just reminding you about that meeting we have today with Xiong? That you are now fifteen minutes late to?" Shit, he was right. Amber eyes glanced at the clock on the wall and widened in panic. Then the dizziness hit, bringing with it in short succession another bout of intense nausea. Her breathing hitched over the phone as she dashed back into the bathroom as the dry heaves began. From its spot on the floor, her phone broadcasted the muffled sounds of her retching and gasping straight to Roman on the other end. Dispelling the last dregs of bile her stomach could spare, she leaned against the wall and picked up her phone to find the man practically shouting into the receiver, silencing him immediately as she spoke.

"My apologies." She gasped, but Roman continued fretting.

"Lord, woman! Are you alright? I know Junior isn't the best of people, but that was rather unnecessary. But what happened? Are you sick or-"

"Roman, it's just morning sickness. Nothing huge." She tried to console her partner, but the exhaustion seeped through her voice. Damn these hormones, interfering with her life.

"Well, you still don't sound too hot. Why don't you just sit this one out? Take the day off, let off a bit of steam."

"Roman I'm fine, keep him busy and I'll be there soon." But he just kept going.

"No no, it's fine." She could hear him pulling the phone away and a muffled voice shouting to someone that she wouldn't be joining them. "There, problem solved. You don't need to stress. It's not good for you or the package. I'll stop by later to tell you how things went. Alright, gotta go, bye now." and he hung up, without letting Cinder get a word in edgewise. Her head tipped back to knock against the wall as she took a deep calming breath.

As much of a pain in the ass as he was, Roman was actually a pretty good guy, for a criminal. Sure she had a business to run, but she was secretly thankful for everything he did for her. It was actually kind of sweet, the lengths he would go to, to make sure she was well taken care of, both in business and in their casual lives. Especially now with the pregnancy, he seemed to step up even more, almost as if he were trying to take the place of the actual father. It was annoying, sure, but she was secretly thankful for it. If the past two months had been anything to judge by, everything was about to get much much worse. Having someone to lean on would be most welcome, even if that person were annoying, snarky, and overprotected. But even so, in all the years of their partnership, Roman still had yet to disappoint her.

Opening eyes she didn't know closed, Cinder realized just how tired she was. Maybe he was right, and she did deserve a day off? She didn't give it much thought as she stood and limped back to her bed, sliding between the silk sheets as fatigue washed over her. She read she would be tired, but she wasn't expecting to be completely exhausted. Relaxing, Cinder let sleep wash over her, too tired to notice the hand that slipped down to rest fondly on her lower abdomen, right over the tiny life that was beginning to take form.

Roman thought he would be able to trust her on her own. He thought that maybe, just maybe, she would start taking care of herself, now that she wasn't living solely for herself. But it had just been a sick pipe dream, shattered when he slipped into Cinder's house one evening, finding a half drained bottle of wine sitting opened on the counter. Panic flooded his system as he rushed through the house, trying to find his partner before she did something stupid and hurt herself or the baby. But how had she gotten the wine? Oh, right. She went out and bought it. Cinder was only around the chronological corner, just starting into the second trimester, her belly only a slight bulge above her normally defined pubic bone. So it went without saying that she could probably pass a once-over at the liquor store when purchasing her poison. It was futile for Roman to think that simply taking the existing alcohol in the house would stop the woman's self destruction.

Up the stairs, around the corner, through the cherry stained door, in the study: there sat Cinder herself, staring at the ceiling, wine bulb forgotten on the plush carpet. She was slouched in the leather chair in the center of the room, a distant look in her eyes. Roman circled the chair, dropping to his haunches before her, reaching out to take the limp hand that hung over the arm of the overstuffed seat.

"Cinder?" He asked quietly, knowing yelling and huffing would do absolutely nothing at this point. It was better to save that for when she was hung over and would easier remember the encounter. Normally flaming eyes were dead in their sockets, despair shining through the haze of alcohol. "Hey there. You doing okay?" hushed voice filled the space as his thumb traced lines across the back of her hand, holding it in her lap as he looked imploringly into empty eyes. Bangs hung down, disheveled and covering half her face, plastered in place by what he guessed to be tears. His free hand reached out to brush them away, tucking the stray locks behind an ear, palm coming back to cup at her jaw as a calloused thumb brushed away fresh tears that had begun leaking. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" he pleaded quietly. More tears spilled over as a spark of life returned to amber pools, further illuminating the suffering within the woman's head.

"I can't." That was all she could choke out. Patient green eyes looked back in confusion.

"Can't what?"

"I just. Can't. I can't do this." her words slurred together, shuddering sobs wracking her slim form. "I can't be a mother. There's no way. I'd have the most fucked up kid." So that's what this was about.

"Why's that?" Roman gently urged.

"I'm a fucking monster, that's why!" Loud and explosive melted back into melancholy. "Roman, I can't love this child. I didn't even want it, but now I'm still gonna be a mother. Unwanted children have it the worst. I don't want to put a kid through that. At some point the kid's gonna ask 'where did I come from?' how'm I gonna tell them they're just a pawn in some plot? Besides, I don't even know how to be a mother.

"What do I do once it's here? How do you raise a kid? How can I make a life and nurture it? How do I stop the kid from being… being me? People are dead because of me, Roman. I've destroyed lives. I don't wanna do that to my own fucking kid!" Sobs ripped through her body with demonic force. "If I can even call it that. I don't know what to do, Roman. I don't know." Her tirade finished, her body slumped forward ever so slightly, Roman's palm still cupping her face. His hands moved to circle the small woman in his arms, pulling her to his chest as he rose from the floor, supporting her as she swayed on her feet. She clutched to his silk shirt like a lifeline, not caring if her tears sullied the fabric.

"It's all one big shitstorm, isn't it?" He muttered softly. "No one knows how to be a parent, Cinder, but I have the utmost faith in you that you can put everything behind you and raise this child. You don't ever have to say where the kid came from. You don't have to be perfect. You just need to be there. But you can't do it like this. If you keep this up, it'll end bad." Sobs had died down to hiccups as Roman talked, knowing his advice was weak, but it placated the woman in his arms. Red rimmed eyes pulled away and looked pleadingly up at the man, silently begging for help and solace.

"Roman, I'm scared." At that moment, everything Roman had ever known shattered. The strongest woman, no- person he knew had just admitted to fear. It was a fear he knew all faced, deep down, a fear of the unknown. Of the future. For years, he thought this woman never felt that anxiety, not knowing what would come next. Maybe it was because she had known. Foresight and planning had always been a specialty of Cinder's, her schemes never failing. All because she was in control. And now without that element of criterion, she felt utterly lost. She didn't know how this would all end. There were so many options, all of which probably plagued the woman for weeks. It made sense now.

"I know you are. But it's okay. You won't have to do this all alone. You know I'll be there the whole way, right?" A small nod. "And when have I ever failed you?" Another nod, and a slight giggle. Good. "See? We'll make it through this, and everything will be fine." The two stood for another minute in silence, enjoying the presence of one another, when the alcohol caught up with Cinder again, her previously semi-clear head banished as her knees gave out. But even in her inebriated state, she trusted Roman would catch her. And he did.

His hand found it's way to the crook of her knees, scooping her up into his arms with a slight chuckle, cheeks flushing as the petite woman threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder to shut out the spinning world. "C'mon, Mama Bear, let's get you to bed before you break something."

The trip to the bedroom was short, just down the hall from the study. He ladled her form under the silken sheets, tucking them around her form as she settled back into the mattress, exhaustion and alcohol taking their tolls. Her eyelids drooped as she lay back, hand shooting out to grab at Roman's as he pulled away, his eyes questioning.

"Prom'se me." She slurred. "Prom'se me it'll be 'kay." To emphasize her point, she released his hand to slip her pinky finger around his, the smaller, more slender digit dwarfed by it's calloused counterpart. A smile crept across his face, looking down at the serious expression on her face, and tightened his own finger around hers.

"I promise." His hand was released, and he placed Cinder's hand back on the bed beside her as she drifted off, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

He placed a glass of water and a few aspirin on her bedside table, turning and taking a last look at the sleeping woman. His hand slid from his side to rest ever so lightly on her stomach as his eyes focused on the small rise in the sheet, brows furrowing.

"I promise it will all be okay." He whispered to the life there, then turned to take his leave.

A long groan escaped rouged lips as Cinder flopped onto the couch, heels slipping to the floor with a clatter. Her feet and legs screamed in relief as her growing weight was removed from them, swollen as fluid retention increased. Come to think of it, everything hurt. Her hips ached, as did her lumbar, supporting the offset weight that changed each day. Her shoulders were stiff, the weight of her swelling breasts antagonizing the muscles of her back, and bringing a special pain and sensitivity of their own. She was either exhausted, irritable, or both, her mood shifting like the tides throughout her day. One minute, she's barking commands to a few grunts, the next all she wanted was the tightest hug imaginable as she bawled her eyes out. But of course, that wouldn't happen, she was a proud woman, after all. Suffice it to say; Cinder was absolutely miserable.

A glare was sent towards the ever growing bump of her stomach, starting to strain against the silk of her blouse, and one of the few things standing in between her and a bottle of gin. She weakly made an attempt to reach down and massage her aching calves, but found the strain to be too much, and allowed her tired form to flop back into the fine leather, joints popping and relaxing as gravity pulled at them. Dust motes floated above in a shaft of evening sunlight, the slight warmth washing over the woman as she closed her eyes and gave in to the calling of a quick nap. What bad could come of some sleep? Nothing, that's what. Nothing could ever be associated with the word sleep. Unless you count one lanky redhead.

She really should have locked her front door. When she woke, Roman stood over her, a small smile stretching across his lips as he looked down on her. A lesser woman would have blushed, maybe even screamed, but that woman would not be Cinder Fall. She calmly looked up at him, and immediately spoke.

"The next time I wake up to have you staring down at me, I swear to god I will shoot you." Her words accompanied by a level glare. Though, come to think of it, she wouldn't exactly mind waking up to him in the future. That was another thing she found changing through the weeks.

Roman was at her doorstep almost religiously, checking in on her with all the persistence of a mother hen. Every evening he would come by, half the time with dinner either pre-made or ready to make. Cinder couldn't remember the last time she had eaten a full, balanced, home cooked meal. He was always welcome, although greeted rather coldly at times, but nevertheless she appreciated his efforts, realizing that pregnancy was much more than she thought she could handle on her own. Roman would always remind her of medical appointments, keep her on track of all her prenatal care, and in general did everything a devoted husband would do for his gravid wife.

It was sweet, really, all the attention he paid her. His affections for her were really no surprise at this point, though he had never outright said it, his actions spoke magnitudes. Added to his natural suave charm and good looks, he was a housewife's dream. To be honest, it was working on Cinder. Every day, she could feel the tenderness for the snarky pain in the ass build beneath her breast, causing her heart to thump painfully against her sternum, growing stronger with each gaze he sent her way.

Initially, she wasn't so keen on the idea of a baby, keeping it mainly for the advantages it afforded her; but now as she thought about the prospect of a baby with Roman by her side brought a fluttering to her heart, echoed in her growing womb as the life within stirred. He showed so much concern for the both of them, mother and child. Cinder would smile to herself when she thought of her excitable partner with a child, but it alarmed her slightly to realize she could never see herself in any of those daydreams.

It was her child, but she could never see herself being it's mother. But Roman. Roman. He could do it. He could care for her child if she failed. It was a lot to force on a person, but it wasn't like he would be alone, would he? She would still be there, but it was possible she could never be there. But if Roman was there, then god damn it, she'd try to be there too.

Back to the present, Roman stood over her, chuckling at her groggy threat. "Of course you will, Mama Bear. I'm willing to bet you haven't eaten yet?" The glare already trained on him narrowed further, but the small spark in her eyes told him all he needed to know. "Then it's a good thing I brought dinner. Chicken parmesan, your favourite." There it was, the previous stare melted into the worn out look he knew. Arms stretched out before her imploringly, her tired eyes holding the silent command as Roman grasped at her forearms and hauled her upright and onto her feet. Cinder swayed unsteadily as she rose, the rush of changing positions so quickly sending her head spinning, but of course, Roman was there to catch her. She could feel him chuckling with her face pressed against his chest while her world righted itself, a miniscule smile forming as she nuzzled deeper ever so slightly.

"Shut up." She muttered, not bothering to mask the slight tremor in her voice. Soon enough she moved away, limping over to the dining room where Roman left dinner, him following shortly after.

The proceedings of dinner between the two were rather commonplace; Roman would explain the latest exploits in his shady end of the swamp, Cinder would follow with her news, they would plot a little, and it all ended in mindless flirting. A stray crumb here, a slight jest there, all accompanied by feather light touches and searing smiles. It was a perpetual loop they were stuck in: one would make an advance, the other return it, and keep volleying it between the two, but no one would ever gather the courage to make that final step. Both knew the feelings the opposite held, yet never made mention of it. So on they danced in their tango of courtship as feet traced against others, small seductive glances exchanged until the two parted 'til next they met.

When they finished eating, Roman cleared the table as Cinder made her way back to the couch to wallow in the aches of her body. A groan wormed its way through her lips as her muscles relaxed and the pain eased into a dull throbbing. Finished in the kitchen, Roman made his way back into the living room and immediately caught on to the pitiful look in the eyes of his partner, sighing as he crossed the room.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Legs." Sitting on the couch, he pulled the stocking clad appendages to rest on his lap, thumbs digging into the fleshy balls of her feet. It earned an immediate groan of thanks. His ministrations continued, massaging the entire length of one foot, before switching to the other and repeating the same treatment. More low noises of pleasure and relief rewarded his efforts and he smiled to himself, glad he could do something to help ease the burden the woman carried, even if slightly. Fingers moved up past ankles and skimmed across calves and dug in to work out all the tension, this time drawing a bit larger reaction from the reclining woman.

"God, I love you." The four words slipped out, but Cinder made no efforts to retract them, too deep under the haze of relief emanating from her legs to care that Roman heard. But his response caught her attention.

"I know." It was short, but spoke volumes. He knew? "I've known for a while now." the silent question being answered. "You aren't exactly subtle, you know that?" Gold eyes rolled. Fine, if he could be this blunt about it, she could be blunt right back.

"Then let's date." The fingers stopped their magic, having gone still, eliciting a displeased huff from the woman. "If we both have feelings, then isn't it better to just get together? Besides, with this baby, I'm probably going to need all the support I can get, and with everything you already do, all it's doing is making the title official." Now the fingers were shaking ever so slightly, never having moved from her legs. Was he hesitating now? He had always been a bit of a pansy, but this was absolutely uncalled for. When a lady offers you her hand, you respond promptly with your decision. Hands moved her legs off his lap as Roman turned to face her, Cinder having propped herself up on her elbows to get a better look at him. "Ro-"

Hands on her shoulder cut her off as she was hauled into a sitting position, his lips crashing onto hers, drawing her close. Any sounds of surprise were swallowed immediately, not wanting to break the immediate contact. They remained pressed against each other for a few more seconds, before pulling back to look into their partners eyes. But where Roman expected to see swooning and love, he found those amber eyes he loved so much filled with rage as her palm found purchase across the side of his face, a slap resounding through the room. His head snapped sharply to the side before talons gripped his jaw in a vice, bringing his focus back to the woman before him. Fire dripped from her tongue in the most terrifying way, ringing with seductive undertones masked by crackling rage that demanded full attention.

"You will never try that again, without my permission, so long as you live your pathetic life. Am I understood?" The tendons in her neck stood out as she spoke, teeth bared in a snarl that had Roman cowering silently in her grasp. "Am. I. Understood." Each word was punctuated with the space between their faces growing smaller. "Roman?"

"Y-yes, ma'am!" He stuttered out past the iron grip digging into his chin.

"Good." She purred as she descended upon him once more, molding her smaller form into his as she shifted to straddle his lap, hands sliding into red locks to pull him closer. Hands moved to her hips to draw the small woman to rest fully on his thighs as he submitted to her wrath.

Everything within Cinder came alive at that moment, her hormones crashing into her full force as her already sensitive chest found itself crushed between their bodies, and when the fuck did Roman get this attractive? At that moment, she knew what she wanted, and by god she was going to get it. She pulled away from his lips to trace a path down his jaw and throat, scraping teeth across the skin there as she went. Head resting in the juncture of his shoulder and neck, heated breath fanning across his throat, her fingers dragged tracks of fire across his chest as they came to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. Two buttons down, Roman realized exactly what was happening, and immediately withdrew.

Again he grasped Cinder by the shoulders, this time moving her away, earning him a glimpse at her flushed face, pupils blown wide with desire. Hands slipped down and under her thighs, lifting her off him and down onto the couch where she stared up at him with a mix of confusion and annoyance at being stopped. She expected him to hang over her, bracing himself as they continued, but instead found him hastily buttoning up his shirt as he nervously rambled on about an early morning tomorrow, and needing to get a good night's sleep for a full day of criminal activity, and that she should probably get some rest too. With a hurried apology and a courteous "good night," he left.

Cinder stared at the ceiling as she processed the events that just transpired. It was a lot to take in, but the sudden withdrawal was the worst part of it. She rolled onto her side, and buried her face into the supple leather of the couch cushions and groaned in frustration, in more ways than one.

A few weeks they had been dating, though not much changed between the two, aside from prolonged contact and quiet murmurs of affection. Life marched on, and with it did the pregnancy. By now, Cinder had entered her third trimester, her stomach swelling to the tell-tale bump, the child now kicking occasionally as it shifted about. All the prenatal exams went well up to this point, though a slightly high blood pressure was noted by the obstetrician, but the baby seemed healthy enough.

Every step of the way, Roman followed her like a second shadow, always fussing over her doing things that may hurt her or the baby. Baby 'how-to' books began stacking up on the coffee table, Roman pouring over them in his spare time. The spare bedroom was been turned into a nursery, a crib installed, and a bassinette placed in the master bedroom. The guns stored around the house were swiftly hidden, mainly to keep them from Cinder after Roman came home one evening to find her sitting in the study, a filched bottle of gin sitting spilled onto the carpet and a pistol pressed to the side of her swollen belly. Hormones hadn't been kind to the small woman, playing on her already fragile mental state, as someone with as much blood on their hands as she were prone to be. Depression and anger swept her system, driving her to drink to hush the nagging voices in the back of her mind as they clawed at her conscious and perception of the future.

They whispered to her predictions of failure, that no matter what, the child would be a monster. The mother was a criminal, a moral abomination, the father a horned mishap of nature. Both held standings that were frowned upon, and the child probably knew, had it all built in. It whispered that such a monster could never be born by natural means. It would wrend itself from it's mother, killing her in the process. She would awaken from nightmares by particularly strong kicks accompanied by visions of a clawed beast tearing its way through her stomach, teeth gnashing and head rolling, eyes only single glowing specks that burned with the fires of hell as they swiveled in pitch flesh. Those nights, Roman would be up and by her side in a matter of seconds, hands smoothing away bangs plastered to her forehead by sweat, whispering soothing words as she grasped on to reality.

To Roman, the entire process was a beautiful thing. He finally got the woman of his dreams, she was finally taking better care of herself, and to top it all off he was essentially fathering her child. To say he was on cloud nine would be a grotesque understatement. He always knew the woman had a softer side, but what he now found was beyond belief. In the times they existed together as lovers, not colleagues, she became an entirely different person. Gone was the calculating business machine with a cold heart and iron fist, replaced with an actual woman who melted into hugs, who laughed genuinely at his shitty jokes, and who needed comfort when the shadows of her past doings came to suffocate her in the night. She came to show there was more than a wanted criminal, but a person. A human. He had always known that, yes, but never to such an extent. Nights would come where she would rest her head on his shoulder, hand fisting into his shirt as she whispered her fears and sorrows to him, her hopes and dreams, and every way the world has hurt her. Soon affections would follow, hushed thanks tumbling from her lips as he wrapped his arms around her to slow the shaking that would accompany them.

Other nights he'd wake to find her gone, sitting on the balcony, curled up as best a pregnant woman could, staring blankly into the night as she silently waged war with the demons and memories no doubt plaguing her soul. These nights he would never join her, knowing these were battles she must fight on her own. Cinder Fall may have found it in herself to rely on another human being, but she still shouldered most her burdens on her own. It was the only noble part she thought she possessed, the idea that her suffering was something no one else must bear.

But even now, as the pair rested on the couch, Cinder asleep with her head in Roman's lap, they were happy. He looked down from his book to take in her face, peaceful in rest, and smiled to himself as his hand came down to rest gently on her distended belly. Sleep had become a frequent state for the woman, the pregnancy having dampened the fire within her small form, but she seemed healthy overall, though Roman would occasionally note a shortness of breath when she thought he wasn't paying attention. It was concerning, yes, but he would pass it off as exhaustion of carrying the extra weight.

A soft sigh flitted through open lips and brought him from his thoughts, his hand beginning to trace circles over the child, dare he even say his child, receiving small kicks in return to the gentle act. The chuckle elicited barely broke the silence, the book forgotten as he focused on the shifting life.

"You know your Papa, don't you?" He whispered. Another shift. "You're just a little spitfire aren't you? Just like your mother." Almost as a confirmation, a particularly strong kick followed, drawing a small grunt from Cinder's throat. A stronger laugh rattled through his chest along with a swell of pride, his palm coming to lay flat against the skin. "Calm down there, kiddo. Don't wanna wake up Mama Bear." There was a small bit of movement, and then everything stilled, the baby settling down. Nothing could stop the smile on his face from growing into a beaming grin, his heart swelling from the interaction. A soft noise shook him, Cinder stirring in his lap before curling into herself with a groan.

"You doing alright?" He asked, slightly concerned. Her hands came up to clutch at temples as she grit out an answer.

"Headache." She tried prying her eyes open, only to slam them shut with a whimper as the late afternoon sun seared her retinas. Under her, Roman shifted, lifting her head off his lap as he stood.

"Let me get you something then." Moments later he returned, her eyes still tightly shut, lifting her up by the shoulders and bringing a hand to her lips. "Open." When she did, he deposited what tasted like two pills onto her tongue, followed by the feeling of a glass pressed to her lips. "Drink." She did, swallowing the pills as her head returned to his lap, the cold feeling of an ice pack draping itself across her forehead bringing a slight moment of relief as Roman began massaging her temples. The pain throbbed and throbbed as the minutes passed, before the pain medications Roman provided began to kick in, soothing her into a dreamless sleep and leaving a concerned Roman to watch the shuddering heaves of her breast.

A week passed since the initial onset of the headaches, each day setting Roman further on edge. They became a frequent thing, one ailing Cinder almost every day. Soon it was accompanied by nausea, but the tipping point came days later. She woke, complaining of a pain in her side, under her ribs. Flipping on the bedroom light, Roman was greeted by the sickening sight of yellowing skin, and he decided enough was enough. He tossed on a sweatshirt, slipping into a pair of shoes before gathering her up in his arms, swaddled in the comforter, and rushed her off to the hospital.

Three hours in the ER waiting room after watching Cinder be carted off into the bowels of the building on a gurney saw Roman lead to a room in the maternity ward as the test results were being processed. She was asleep on the bed, an IV leading from the back of her hand to a saline drip, the yellow of her skin standing out garishly against the white of the hospital gown. Perching on the edge of the bed, he took her hand into his own, tracing his thumb over the knuckles and ligaments that stood out on the back. Tired amber eyes slowly opened and met worried absinthe and they held the look in silence before a soft knocking alerted them to the doctor in the doorway. The diagnosis was read to a silent room, Roman glancing every few seconds between Cinder and the doctor.

Pre-eclampsia, or high blood pressure during pregnancy, a dangerous thing indeed. The high blood pressure put strain on both mother and child, threatening to cut off blood flow to the child or completely remove the placenta from the uterine wall. High level of enzymes from the liver were tearing her apart, the jaundiced colour of her skin the result of possible liver failure, and fluid began collecting in her lungs, shortening her breath and threatening to drown her.

Cinder was to stay in the hospital, her condition monitored, to ensure the survival of both mother and child, but by the third day, she digressed into a critical state. The pain in her side persisted, as did the headaches, her failing liver joined by weakening kidneys, and her blood pressure only rising. To put it shortly, she was dying, her baby too, and everyone knew it.

Roman talked with the doctor, Cinder's lucidity sharply declining, and a consensus was reached. There was only one way to save both mother and infant indefinitely, and Roman agreed to the procedure on his girlfriends behalf. After 28 weeks, the baby would be born today.

The procedure was simple, a cesarean section brought the baby (a girl) out of the womb and into the world, quickly being whisked off to the NeoNatal Intensive Care Unit where machines pumped and hissed to keep the frail creature alive. Cinder was rushed post-op to the ICU, dialysis ready to help sustain her failing body. The immediate danger passed, but both lives still lay on the line as they struggled in their own battles to keep hearts beating and fluttering lungs drawing breath.

Six days after the delivery, Roman sat dozing in the window seat of Cinder's hospital room, the woman asleep as the machine beside her bed helped urge her liver along its normal functions. Her blood pressure dropped within a few hours after delivering the child down to a safe level, easing some of the strain on her body, but she still wasn't out of the woods. Fluid was still pooled in her lungs, her breathing short but steady, and though her liver hadn't completely failed her, it still wasn't strong enough to work on its own.

She woke after the operation far from her normal self. A quiet gaze was leveled at Roman, eyes dull and antagonized as she just lay there silent. Her waking hours were silent, refusing to answer any questions the doctors asked, Roman instead trying his hardest to interpret. Cinder merely remained in her catatonic state, listening to the voices swirling in her head as they vexed her. Half of the matter was also the fact that she barely survived the ordeal, her demise brought about at the hand of her own child. It was terrifying. But of course she would never admit to it.

All Roman could do was sit and watch his lover fighting all this at once, never once daring to come to him for help. His offer would only be seen as a blow to her pride, already deflated by the recent events. So there on the window seat he sat, waiting for news on both Cinder and the baby. A soft tapping at the door roused him, the doctor smiling and gesturing for him to come to the hall. He jumped from his spot and crossed the room in three strides, anxiously bouncing in front of the doctor, an older woman with greying hair.

"Quick question for you sir," She started, a light air staining her tone. "Would you like to meet your daughter?" At that moment, Roman swore he felt his heart stop in its tracks.

"Meet my- you mean- I can- she's-?" Fragmented thoughts spewed from his lips as a disbelieving grin stretched his lips. The doctor merely nodded.

"From my prognosis, she could be out of the NNICU in a week at the absolute earliest. She's only a week old, but I can tell she's a fighter."

"Please." Roman begged, "Let me see her." The doctor nodded and gestured for him to follow.

Through the halls they went, up an elevator, through more halls, and finally in through a set of large doors. Handed a set of medical scrubs and turned towards a changing room, Roman stumbled in to toss on the outfit, following the orders to thoroughly wash his hands up to the elbow after tucking his hair into a bouffant cap. Emerging again, the doctor handed him a mask and led him into the unit.

The pair passed rooms containing plastic bassinets, machines gathered around like beeping monastics, the inhuman drone their own prayers for vitality. Dismally small children lay inside each one, the sight pulling at Roman's heartstrings as they marched on, coming to stop at one of the open cubicle-like room. A single tentative step brought him across the threshold, eyes focusing on the tiny form in the plastic bed. Another step revealed the tubes and lines coming from her small body, and one final step took him to the side of the cradle.

Nestled in the blankets was the smallest creature Roman had ever seen, being maybe only slightly longer than his entire hand. Tiny hands balled into fists, connecting to pudgy arms, pale skin marbled with blood vessels just beneath the membrane. The little girl's chest rose and fell in short huffs, plump legs kicking slightly as she slept. Small face lay relaxed beneath a cannula, pumping a steady flow of oxygen into tiny lungs as the heart monitor beeped out a staccato rhythm that sang of life. A small swathe of fine black hair covered her head, almost masking a petite set of cat ears, inherited from her father's line. Roman took the whole sight in, and one single word came to mind: beautiful.

His hand rose from his side and reached toward the sleeping infant, but he hesitated, fingers curling back as he looked to the doctor for a silent permission, receiving an affirmative nod. The hand continued, slightly shaking as he reached into the bed and extending a finger. His breath hitched as the back of his index finger made contact with impossibly soft skin, a delicate warmth that travelled into his entire being. The finger stroked down the side of the child's face, wary of the tubing, then travelling back up the same path. Feline ears twitched slightly and a small noise issued from the tiny form, melting everything within his heart. His hand moved down, pinky curling under fingers that clasped around the appendage, the whole length of her hand barely covering the width between his knuckles.

"Do you want to hold her?" The doctor quietly asked, causing Roman to start. The misty look he gave silently answered the question, and she stepped forward to scoop up the minute form. His arms came up to support the small body as it rested on his shoulder, right over his heart, cupping her full form in the palm of his right hand. Tiny ears flicked again as the baby made a small nuzzling movement, burying her face into the warm flesh of Roman's chest.

"You know your papa, don't you?" He choked out around small sobs, pride and warmth flooding through every inch of his vessel as he clutched the miniscule life, his daughter, to his heart. Tears of joy ran down his face as a finger came up to gently caress behind a wee cat ear, earning another small noise and he whispered. "Welcome to the world, Kitten."

An hour later, Roman practically skipped his way back into Cinder's room, finding her awake and sitting in bed, staring at something as she thought. Dull golden eyes flicked to his figure and a sigh left her lips. Roman came to sit on the edge of her bed, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"I just saw the baby." He quietly gushed, excitement flowing through his words. "She's absolutely perfect! Looks just like you too. She's a fighter too, you know." His thumb softly stroked a path across the back of her hand, noting how her eyes seemed to spark back to life with every word. "Four pounds, the doctor said. She's tiny, but I already know she's perfect. She even has faunus ears. Cat, to be specific." The light almost fully returned to Cinder's eyes, though they directed themselves to the blanket on her lap. Roman smiled, ready to drop the best part of his report. "But she's doing well! Well enough that we'll bring her in to you by the end of the week." He had to keep himself from bouncing in excitement as he waited for an equally enthusiastic response that never came. Instead, her voice was low, dangerous.

"No." She muttered, eyes wide as she stared holes into the bedspread, a crease forming between brows. "No. Do not bring that- that- monster anywhere near me." Confused horror marred Roman's excited features as he tried to respond. Her head snapped up to meet his gaze, eyes burning as her face twisted into a snarl of disgust, effectively silencing him. "I will have nothing to do with that abomination of a child. It will not continue to destroy my life. It's that thing's fault that I'm here. That I almost died. All because of that fucking grimmspawn!" She was nigh shouting, chest heaving as her lungs cried for air.

"Cinder, you-"

"No. Get rid of it, Roman. I don't want it."

"I won't just-"

"Get rid of it!" She screamed, falling into a coughing fit as her miry lungs protested. The heart monitor beside her bed increased it's beeping to a frantic tempo, bringing doctors rushing into the room to sedate the livid woman. "Do not bring it to me. I will not hesitate to destroy it." She screeched before one of the doctors managed to jam a needle into her side, successfully lulling her into a fitful sleep.

Roman fled the room, barricading himself in the bathroom as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, tears running down his face. How could she hate her own child? What had happened to make her react so violently? Questions flooded his mind as he processed her request. Get rid of it. Get rid of her own daughter? Their daughter? It was simply unthinkable. The baby was absolutely innocent in all this. If anything, the whole situation was Cinder's fault. All of it. At that moment, he made his decision on the matter. If she wouldn't love this poor girl, he would.

A week and a half. A week and a half since Roman met his daughter for the first time. A week and a half since Cinder threatened the life of her own child. A week and a half that saw that baby growing stronger each day, Roman visiting as often as he possibly could to shower the little girl with all the love in his heart. He would sit and tell her stories, whisper all the things he would teach her, and taking the time to learn and commit to memory where exactly she felt most comfortable being held and touched.

Cinder's recovery had been progressing much slower, her mentality hindering her ability to move forward with the process. But one couldn't blame her: near death experiences left an impression on the mind. Her anxieties continued to plague her, congratulating her success in bearing a demon child into the world. Part animal, part human, all monster in her mother's eyes. Dreams of the pitch child visited every time she closed her eyes, the structure always the same.

Roman would walk through the door, a small bundle clutched to his chest as he approached the bed. He would sit on the edge of the bed, saying nothing before looking to Cinder with dead, empty eyes as he lowered the blankets to allow her to look into them, what she saw making her heart stop in it's place. Tar thick skin stretched across a frame of jutting bones that snapped and heaved with every small movement the creature made. It's gaunt face was always twisted into what looked to be a silent scream, maw open to show needle like teeth half an inch long as it wheezed for breath, the rasping filling the room. Tiny warped hands clutched themselves to the thing's chest, claws tearing gouges in the flesh with each shuddering draw the diseased lungs took, a dark fluid oozing from the wounds. But the eyes were the worst of it all: they had no shape, just holes in the skull that were lit from behind by a hellish glow, the empty eye sockets always locking on to her form as the pitch child reached out to grasp for it's mother. When the contact was made, the world spun, launching her back into the waking world.

Roman would always be there when she woke, his hands grasping hers as she flailed before calming down. He'd sit there with her, holding her against his chest as her breathing slowed, pressing kisses into her hair and whispering sweet nothings until he felt the tension leave her body.

Despite her violent reaction to the baby, Roman still remained with her, though he never spoke of the child. He held hope that she could eventually come around, but the constant state of anxiety she had come to exist in was beginning to plant the seeds of doubt in his mind. Today was his last ditch effort, but he had faith in his plan to bring Cinder around.

The baby was finally strong enough to leave the NNICU, and Roman rejoiced the fact. Here he was now, strolling through the hallways with his head held high, and his little girl pressed firmly to his breast. She was going to finally meet her mother, whether Cinder liked it or not. It was something that had to happen in order for her to move on with her life. Even if she still refused the child, it would bring her peace to at least see the fruits of eight months labour.

The lights in the room were off as Roman entered, Cinder in a calm sleep for the first time in days. He perched in the window seat, bringing his legs up and under him as he rested the baby in his lap, fingers stroking over her delicate face. A smile flitted across his lips as he took in the resemblance of mother and daughter: she had her mother's hair, dark like midnight, the slope of her nose gentle and pointed, sure to develop Cinder's signature stare down it's length in no time. The baby gave a small squeak as she woke, her tiny hands grasping at Roman's finger in a clumsy grip.

"Hey there, kitten." He cooed softly, wary of the woman sleeping not five feet from him. "Hey. You ready to meet mommy? She's a little rough around the edges, but I promise you'll like her." Green eyes looked up mournfully to the woman on the bed as a heavy sigh left his chest. "She's not as excited as Papa, but I know you can charm her just like you charmed me." The little girl gurgled up at the man and yawned, settling back down into the blanket as a finger came to trace circles on her belly. Roman smiled as the tiny creature made a short noise of comfort, a low hum bubbling up in his throat as he remembered the tune to a slow song forgotten to years past.

The first thing Cinder noticed as she woke, was the soft humming coming from the side of her room, quiet and peaceful. Bleary eyes opened and settled on the blurry outline of a body in the window. "Roman?" She croaked out. The figure shifted, stood and approached, coming into tired focus as the form of Roman Torchwick. He held something clutched to his chest as he approached and sat on the bed, a calloused palm coming up to smooth the bangs from her forehead and placed a soft kiss there.

"Hey." He greeted her softly, continuing to stroke her hair. "How ya feeling?"

"Better." She muttered as she shifted to sit up. "What's-" the question died in her throat as golden eyes locked on to the blanked nestled in the crook of his arm. Cold sweat broke out across her forehead as terror gripped her heart, images of the pitch child dragging themselves to the forefront of her mind. "No. Roman I told you-"

"Cinder, I know what you said, but-"

"N-No. K-keep it- keep it away!" She tried to move away from Roman as fast as she could, her legs caught up in the blankets holding her in place.

"Shhh, Cinder, please. I just-"

"I don't- I can't- It-" Her stuttering gave way to tremors rattling her frame as she curled in on herself, away from Roman and the baby.

"All I want." Roman started softly, placing a hand on her shoulder, wincing slightly when she flinched under his touch. "Is for you to at least look at her. You don't need to hold her, or anything. Just look." His pleading was soft, but her shaking only continued, terror rising in her throat. Silence persisted for a moment, broken only by a shifting in Roman's arms as the baby stirred, woken by the commotion. Soft grunting was soon replaced by the girl's cries, loud and scared. The hand on Cinder's shoulder disappeared and she shivered at the loss of contact. She could hear Roman shushing the child in his arms, cooing softly to it to calm and soothe. Crying turned to hiccups and grunts, and calm silence flooded the room again.

Her breathing was shaky, mind rushing to for a coherent thought around the terror that gripped her every fibre. She knew what she'd see if she looked, the thought of the sightless eyes making her stomach churn. It was her child, the sire of a corrupt woman that stood to the world as a reminder of the evils within. This child Roman held could only be a manifestation of that, after all, monsters only breed monsters. It's presence in her room was probably the beginnings of her punishments for her transgressions through her life, forced to bear witness to what it had caused and how it was to be perpetuated. She clutched her head as she waited for the sickly wheezes of the pitch child to fill the room, but only a soft gurgling, almost squeaking could be heard. It was a gentle sound, pure and innocent. But it could always change. Cinder drew a deep breath as she summoned up the gumption to finally face her offspring.

The blankets in Roman's arms obscured the creature from her view, but her slow turning on the bed drew his attention, a steady gaze commending her for her attempt. "Let me see it." Her voice wavered as she spoke, heart pounding painfully in her chest. Roman quietly nodded, shifting the child into his far arm as he moved to sit by Cinder, wrapping his right arm around her waist. His bodily warmth was reassuring as she leaned into it, taking the strain off her still mending abdomen, her right hand coming to fist itself in the fabric of his shirt. He pressed a reassuring kiss to her temple as he felt her shake against his frame, slowly bringing his other arm around to the front, bearing the bundle of blankets to rest before the woman. A flap of the swaddling covered the child from sight, a gentle nudge from Roman encouraging her to lift it. The hand on his shirt pried itself away, inching towards the baby at a trembling crawl, stopping just before she could touch the soft fabric. A terrified whimper left her throat and Roman tightened his grip on her waist, trying to tell her it would all be alright. He had promised her, after all.

The moment of no return was upon her as her shaking fingers hovered above the blanket, the voices of anxiety in her head elevated from harsh whispers to deafening shrieks. Under that fabric would be some sick mimicry of a human that longed only for her destruction, and now that the two were separate entities, nothing could stop it from plunging those crooked claws through her chest. A diseased form that had been drawn from her very flesh, so miserable that when it had completed its task it would beg to be destroyed. Just like she had. Her fingers made contact with the soft flannel, gripping it as she pulled it away slowly, dreading what she was going to see.

Her heart stopped. She stared. Time froze around the three as she looked at the baby.

Pale skin that looked softer than sin covered an adorably pudgy body that wiggled slightly as the cooler air of the room invaded the blanket. Tiny hands tipped with plump fingers curled into bitty fists, no claws to be found, and equally tiny toes twitched on inch long feet. The girl's face was the picture of peaceful, small pink lips parted slightly as she slept, rounded cheeks a healthy rosy colour. The tiny black ears on her head flicked occasionally as a gentle draft in the room swept over them. Cinder sat dumbfounded. What was this child? Where was the creature from her dreams? This couldn't be hers, there had to be some mistake; it looked human.

"Roman," she whispered, voice barely audible. "This- this is-"

"Hold out your arms." Was his gentle command, and she obeyed, stiffening as the small form was ladled into her arms. She was about to protest, when something in her snapped. The baby settled in her arms, head resting in the crook of her left elbow, fitting perfectly against her breast. Holding this tiny life in her arms, despite knowing where it came from, how it came to be; it felt right. But something in her still couldn't believe this was her child. It still waited for the heaving chest and oozing wounds to materialize before her. But it never happened.

"Roman, this isn't my baby." She muttered, never looking away from the child's sleeping face, her quiet exclamation taking him by surprise.

"What?"

"This- This child. It isn't mine. It can't be mine." The arm around her waist tightened further.

"Why do you say that?" He questioned slowly, eyes never leaving her quickly paling face.

"It's not a monster. This child looks human. There is no way I could create something so pure. So innocent. It can't be mine." At that moment, the little girl in her arms began to stir.

"I don't know," Roman smiled, looking down at the girl with a knowing gaze. "I think she might have something to say otherwise." Tiny lips parted in a yawn, revealing toothless gums and a tiny pink tongue as the baby stirred, once again stopping the breath and heart in her mother's chest.

Small eyelids fluttered slightly, a pudgy fist rising to swipe at the cheek, before they opened fully. Brilliant golden eyes stared up sleepily into a matching pair that looked back in shock. They winked with curiosity before instinctually recognizing the woman who held her, a small attempt at a smile pulling at a tiny mouth. Soft noises bubbled from her lips as Cinder continued to stare at those big doe eyes. Everything she had thought 'til now had been proven wrong with a single gaze from the innocent eyes that looked up trustingly. There was no mistaking it; this was her child.

Then she broke.

Tears flooded her vision as she chided herself for fearing this little creature. How could she even think something as pure and delicate as this could ever harbour such malevolence as she herself did? It was impossible. She clutched the child close as she wept, choking words around the lump in her throat.

"Look at you. So precious." She whispered as a single finger came up to touch the little girl's cheek, something in her chest wrenching at the contact. "You couldn't possibly have done this." This small creature was too innocent, too pure to be held responsible for her own suffering. No creature as defenseless could ever deserve to have such guilt thrust upon them at such an early age. No creature such as this should ever be hated the way she had hated this child. Seven words came roaring back to her mind as wave after crushing wave of guilt swept her small frame: I will not hesitate to destroy it.

She had threatened to kill the small life she now held in her arms, that looked up at her with her own eyes, that had nothing to do with anything. Her free hand came up to clasp over her mouth as she curled in on herself and the baby, forming a protective arch over the small form.

"I'm so sorry." She choked it out over and over again, horrified that she was willing to end the warm body in her arms with her own hand. Sobs wracked her form and she shuddered as images flashed through her mind worse than the pitch child; images of a limp, cold form no bigger than her forearm resting in talon clawed hands, her own eyes taking the empty blazing likeness of the creature from her nightmares. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

A small touch to her cheek snapped her from her misery, drawing her watery gaze to it's source. The infant in her arms had reached out with one small hand and pressed it to her mother's cheek, flexing chubby fingers to try and find purchase. The hand over Cinder's mouth fell, one finger extending to let the smaller fingers curl around it, forming a mother and daughter's first embrace. Laughter soon bubbled from Cinder's throat, watery but pure as she leaned down to press her forehead to her daughters, shielding them from the outside world with a cascade of dark hair. The two sat there a moment longer, mother cherishing the contact as she whispered quietly so that only the two of them could hear: "I love you, I promise."

Roman sat to the side, watching the scene unfold in his arms, the love of his life shattering in his very grasp, before being patched together with a single touch. Tears had begun to stream down his face as his heart tore itself to pieces, listening to the whispered mantra of apologies. He had known on some level, the fear the woman harboured, but never knew to what extent. But the laughter was what really touched his heart the most.

Never had such a pure, innocent, beautiful sound left the woman's lips. Years he knew her, and she always remained the business woman and seductress. But here, he saw her in her entirety. A woman who had been broken too many times to count, who only saw the dark in the world, who lived through her own body trying to destroy her and the life she carried. He saw a woman who was afraid of the future, afraid of failure, but most of all, afraid of being human. But here she was, in the most human state possible. She was afraid. But she wouldn't have to face it alone. She had him to lean on, and her beautiful, wonderful, perfect daughter to look to when she needed to smile. When she needed to be reminded that there were still beautiful things in this doomed, grim world. Now, she had a family.

Teary golden eyes looked up at him as she straightened, leaning back against his shoulder and chest, her voice thick with tears as she asked a single question. "Have you named her?"

"I have an idea, but I wanted you to be a part of it." A quiet hum followed, urging him to continue. "I was thinking, Blake." A smile rewarded him, followed by a gentle, chaste kiss pressed to his lips, which he softly returned before she pulled away, her forehead pressed to his as she stared deeply into his eyes.

"Blake." She whispered. "It's perfect."

Feeling she had been ignored enough, Blake began to squirm in her mother's arms, tiny cat ears pressed against her soft skull and small whimpers threatening to turn to full blown cries as she made her objections known. Golden eyes turned to Roman, terrified, as she had no clue whatsoever how to prevent the imminent meltdown. He just chuckled, reaching out his index finger to brush the back of his knuckle in one long stroke gently down the slope of Blake's forehead to the tip of her nose. She made small grunts as he repeated the motion, but quieted down as his ministrations lulled her into a quiet slumber, her tiny form relaxing into the soft blanket around her. Cinder looked to Roman in wonder as he charmed the little girl to sleep, her heart swelling as he demonstrated a tenderness unknown to others, reserved only for her, and now her- no, their- daughter.

She pulled the blanket back around her sleeping baby, shifting so Blake's head could rest above her heart as she leaned back into Roman, nestling her head in his neck. "Perfect." She whispered again, tiredness crashing over her body as she let the warmth around her lull her to sleep. A kiss was pressed to her forehead as Roman tightened his arms, drawing his family closer to himself as he whispered back with a contented sigh.

"Perfect."