Chapter Text
Belle stifled a yawn against Rumple’s arm as he opened the gate and Gideon dashed inside, his chubby legs carrying him toward the swing set. The early-morning dew still covered the grass, which came up past his ankles. His favorite sneakers would be soaked before they left, but an excited three-year-old who had pried his parents out of bed before sunrise for a playground visit, could hardly be expected to worry about such things.
Belle yawned again, resting her head against his upper arm. She had her arm looped through his as well, and didn’t let go even when it was awkward to maneuver through the gate together. Rumple managed to get them through and close the gate behind them.
“You didn’t have to come, you know,” he told the top of her head. “I told you I’d bring him. You could have stayed in bed for a few more hours.”
“I wanted to,” she answered, sounding half asleep. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“Mommy, will you push me on the swing?” Gideon called. He was attempting to pull himself up onto the seat but it kept moving out of reach every time he jumped backward.
“I’ll push you, son. Mommy is going to sit down and wake up with a cup of tea.” He held out his free hand and a to-go cup from Granny’s appeared there with a poof. He pointed to the bench at the side of the playground. “You can sit; I’ll push him.”
She took the cup with a smile, but instead of the bench sat down on the swing next to Gideon, still trying to get up there. Rumple walked behind him and reached over to hold him under his arms.
“You’re almost there, m’boy. Just going to give you a boost. Ready? One…two…three!” The small jeans-clad bottom finally settled on the seat, and Gideon kicked his feet in excitement.
“I did it, Papa!” He grasped the chains and leaned back to look at Rumple upside down, a wide smile splitting his face.
“You did indeed. Now hold on tight!”
Gideon tightened his fingers, swinging his legs before Rumple could even give him the first push.
“High, Papa! Want t’go high!”
Rumple gave another push as he caught Belle’s eye. She was watching their son on the swing as she sipped her tea, looking slightly more awake. Feeling his gaze, she glanced at him and her mouth quirked a smile before returning her attention to the child now swinging through the air.
He knew why she’d insisted on coming; knew that after her visit to the dream realm during Gideon’s delivery, she never passed up a chance to make good memories in a playground. So she was here, even though the sun was just starting to peek over the tree line and they’d been up in the middle of the night with their boy, to soothe him after a nightmare. Those bad dreams seemed to plague Gideon more often than most children his age, and Dr. Hopper had theorized that some part of him remembered growing up in the Dark Realm. So the middle-of-the-night wakings were unfortunately a common occurrence.
He’d offered to stay up with him alone, of course—Dark Ones didn’t need much sleep, even if they liked to sleep sometimes just to cuddle close to their True Love. But there were times that Gideon demanded his Mommy. So he’d gotten both of them, last night, crammed into his toddler bed with him in the middle—thank goodness neither of them were large people.
Rumple had watched them both, in the dim glow of the nightlight, as Belle held Gideon to her chest and whispered to him soothingly, till at last the nightmare faded and he dropped back off to sleep. By then, Gideon had worked himself to a position lying on top of his mother, and there was no chance of her being able to extract herself without waking him again.
So Rumple had put his arm under her head to act as a pillow, and held them both as he dropped kisses on first his son’s forehead, then his wife’s, murmuring to her that she was the most wonderful mother in all the realms. He’d seen what happened when a woman didn’t want to be a mother, when she resented her child for all the little demands made around the clock. But Belle treated every day with Gideon as a gift, every moment a treasure.
She wasn’t the only one. They’d come so close to not being able to raise Gideon from infancy. But they’d been blessed with a second chance, and neither of them wanted to squander it. And so they found themselves here in the pre-dawn moments, as the entire world held its breath in anticipation of the new day, and the only sound was the squeak of the swing.
The sun managed to slip over the horizon, making the dew on the grass sparkle and catching Gideon’s attention. He stopped pumping his legs, letting his swing slow.
“Pretty,” he whispered.
Belle raised her face with eyes closed to the first rays of the sun, and looking between wife and child, Rumple couldn’t help but agree with Gideon’s assessment.
“Mommy! Race me!” Gideon shouted, breaking the spell and starting to swing again.
Belle laughed, and placed her cup on the ground next to her, adjusting her balance on the seat and pushing off with her toes in the dirt.
“I’ve been practicing,” she warned him. “I might beat you this time!”
“Nuh-uh! Me win! Me the swing king!” His little legs were pumping faster, even as Rumple gave him an extra push and cautioned him to hang on tight.
Belle laughed as her swing reached its highest backward arc next to Rumple and then started to descend, her hair rippling behind her. She’d go high enough to make Gideon work for his win, but would never surpass him. They always let him win, because they’d already won everything.