A/N: I am not entirely sure where this came from, but it's set post finale. I apologize if it's awful, this is only my second completed OUAT story. I am also working on a small multi-chaptered story that hasn't quite come to fruition. So, let me know what you think. I am always open to constructive Criticism, as long as you put it nicely. :-) Also, yes I did do some small amount of research for this fic, though you can only learn so much from wikipedia, so any mistake are my own.
Emma shivered as she yanked her jacket tighter to her body. No amount of layers, hats, or jackets could keep the chill from reaching her body. It was like a big icy, bony finger that kept poking at her until her entire body felt like it was frostbitten. That should have been bad enough, and yet she found herself stuck outside. Her yellow bug pointed at the you are now entering storybrooke sign. Her tire was flat, and she had no jack to fix it. Worse? Her cell had no signal out here, which meant that she was stuck here, on the outskirts of a town that none of the residents could leave. Emma felt like she had won the lottery.
A scowl formed on her face, as she attempted to pull her arms inside her jacket in a last ditch effort to stay warm. However, mother nature seemed to hate her with a passion, and refused to let her feel one ounce of warmth. Emma knew she had two choices. Wait with the car on the off chance that some idiot actually found their way on the deserted road that led to Storybrooke, fat chance, with the heat on until her car battery died along with her stupid tire. The other choice, was to start walking. It was only a couple of miles until she would reach town. One more mile after that would have her home, in the small cramped apartment that she was currently sharing with her mother, father, and son.
Then again, option one did hold the hidden agenda of hiding out from her parents, but it also ended badly. Mostly likely with her freezing to death. Emma shook her head, she couldn't do that to Henry, no matter how uncomfortable that apartment could be. Sighing, Emma pulled the keys from the ignition and walked around to the trunk. Pulling it open, she smiled brightly, causing her teeth to chatter. She yanked the small afghan from the trunk, not really remembering putting the blanket in her trunk to begin with. Shutting it, realizing that nothing else needed to be taken care of, Emma threw the afghan over her shoulders and started to walk.
The chilly air was growing a much bigger bite to it, as the wind started to pick up. Looking up, Emma groaned. Hadn't her mother warned her about an impending snow storm? "Really?" Emma moaned out, as she hunched her shoulders and kept moving forward.
Snow flutters down the steps. A frown etched on her face as she eyes the clock. "James?" She peers into the kitchen, where she finds her husband and grandson sitting at the table, chuckling over a game of cards. "James." She says a bit more forcefully.
His head bobs up, and he smiles at his wife, before taking in her worried expression. Frowning slightly, He reaches his hand forward toward Henry's shoulder. "I'm gonna go talk to your grandma, alright? I'll be right back." James smiles broadly at Henry, nothing but pure love shining in his eyes.
"Alright, grandpa." Henry smirked at James before he stood up.
Striding quickly toward his wife, his face mirrored hers. Snow typically didn't worry, not like this. Frowns were not usually found on her face, so whatever was bothering her was obviously something worth worrying over. "What's wrong, Snow?"
Her eyes pierced his, her bottom lip trembled slightly as she gestured toward the clock. "Emma." It was merely a whisper, but she knew that James heard her.
He wearily eyed the clock. "It's only five-thirty, Snow. Perhaps she's just running late." He offered her a smile, but sighed when her facial expression didn't change.
"I specifically told her about that snowstorm, James. How dangerous it was supposed to be."
James reached forward, resting his hands on either side of her shoulders. "Our daughter is smart, Snow. She'll be fine. She's probably on her way home as we speak. Besides, do you really think she'd do anything that would cause Henry to worry about her?" James asked, as he threw a backward glance at his grandson.
"No—it's just—" Snow sighed. "She said she might have to go out of town. Back to Boston, but she wouldn't tell me why. What if something happened?"
James sighed. He hadn't known that, but he wasn't lying. Emma wouldn't do anything stupid. Not anything that would risk endangering her life, not when she had Henry to think about. "Let's give her until six, if she isn't home, I'll take the truck out and see if I can find her."
Snow nodded her head. "Okay."
James smiled brightly at her, his arm winding around her shoulders as he pulled her against his side. "Until then, how's about you join us?"
Snow offered a small, weak smile back. "What are we playing?" She asked, her eyebrow cocked suspiciously.
Emma stands still on the side of the road. She can no longer see her yellow bug, but she's not sure if it's because of how far she's walked or because of the amount of snow that is now littering the ground. Sighing, she pulls her hands out of her gloves and looks at them. Pale, but that is definitely better than purple. Shivers over take her body once again, so after rubbing her now numb hands together for a moment, in an attempt to revive them, she pulls the gloves back on and shoves her hands into her pockets.
Her legs are burning, like someone sat them on fire. Sighing, she lifts her legs, one after the other as she trudges forward. Though she hasn't even actually felt the effects before, Emma knows she's well on her way to hypothermia. However, she also knows that she can't dwell on this fact. Hypothermia or not, she has a family to go home to, and stopping for any period of time is not something that is bound to help her.
Trudging forward, attempting to ignore the pain burning its way up her legs or the shivering that seems to be getting worse, Emma keeps her eyes forward, looking for something that signifies life. So far all she's able to see are the trees swaying with the wind that is starting to pick back up, and snow fluttering to the ground. None of that is helpful in the least bit. All it does is make her colder. Sighing, Emma tries a tactic she learned long ago. Since she couldn't actually take herself out of her current enviroment, she could think her way out of it. It would be a bit more difficult since she can't close her eyes, so with her eyes wide open, Emma dreams of a warm fire and hot chocolate with cinnamon sprinkles.
Her body still shakes from the cold, but she doesn't feel the biting wind quite as badly. It's all she can really ask for. Well that, or a passing vehicle, but since that is more than likely, not going to happen, she'll take the momentary lapse of biting wind on her face.
With her eyes straight ahead and the snow littered on the ground, Emma doesn't see the rock lodged into the ground in front of her. So when her foot hits it, causing her weight to twist against her ankle, she barks out a pain gasp as she falls hard to the frozen ground beneath her. Her ankle throbs, but the blinding pain in her arm is enough to cause her vision to darken around the edges.
"I cannot lose consciousness. I have to get up, I have to make it home." She starts to chant it over and over again, like a mantra. Emma just prays that if she keeps saying it out-loud, that it'll help her climb to her feet and keep moving. Sighing, Emma is able to to pull herself into a sitting position, though the movement jarred her arm enough to elitcte a scream from her throat. Quickly, as to not lose what little heat is being stored in her jacket, Emma unzips it and bites her lip as she pulls her injured arm through the sleeve. Using her teeth and her one good arm, Emma is able to rezip her jacket, and let her injured arm cradle against her chest.
With that taken care of, Emma groans. The only way to check over the damage of her ankle would be to take off her knee-length boot, and that would take two arms, which she was currently lacking.
"Screw it." She finally says. Using her good arm, Emma places her palm onto the ground and pushes herself into a standing position. Tiny cries make their way out of her mouth as she stumbles around on one leg for a moment as she tries to gather her balance. Sighing, she planted her injured foot onto the ground, and bit back the scream that wanted to tear itself from her mouth. So, stumbling on one foot it was.
Slowly, Emma started moving forward, desperately praying for a car to magically appear in front of her. Tears slipped down her cheek as she continued forward at a mere snails pace. In a weak whisper Emma said. "Mom. I need you."
James stares at the clock, one minute past six. Snow hasn't had the chance to watch the clock, not like he has. She hasn't even had the chance to look at it since they all sat down to play a friendly game of go fish with their grandson, and yet James cannot force himself to look away. With each tick of the clock feels like a nail in Emma's proverbial coffin. What if Snow was right? What if something had happened, and she had no way to get a hold of them? What if she was hurt?
James stood up suddenly. "I—umhmm. I need to talk to you, Snow." He motioned for her to follow him. He didn't want to alert Henry. Not if there wasn't anything wrong. Emma could very well be stuck at work, though he was certain that she would have at least called them.
Once he was certain out of earshot of Henry, he grabbed Snow's shoulders. "I can't get this feeling to leave. Not since we last talked." He sighed. "It's after six, and she's still not home, Snow. I'm going out there and I'm finding her."
Snow nodded numbly as his words sank in. "You think something happened?" She asked, though it was more rhetorical.
"I don't think so—but I just—I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach, Snow. I can't just sit here."
Snow nodded again. "Find our daughter, James."
"I plan on it." He offered her a small, sad smile. "What are you going to tell Henry?" James asked, as he nodded toward their grandson.
"I'm not sure. I'll think of something. Just go."
James nodded. "I love you, Snow." He leaned forward, pressing his lips against her forehead.
"I love you too, James." She smiled as he pulled away.
"I'll be back." He announced in a voice loud enough for Henry to hear, as he grabbed his jacket and truck keys and headed out the door.
"Where is grandpa going?" Henry asked, as the door slammed shut behind James.
James speeds down the road, his first initial thought was to check the sheriff's station, but then Snow's words fluttered into his mind. She said she might have to go out of town. Back to Boston. Which was why he was currently heading toward the town limits, praying that his gut feeling was wrong. That he wouldn't find her stranded on the side of the street—or worse.
His truck lights lit up something on the side of the road, and his stomach lurched into his throat. Slamming on his brakes, not his best idea in this weather, caused his truck to lurch sideways before finally stopping. Without another thought of his vehicle, James jumped from the cab and sprinted toward the large mound covered in snow. He stopped directly in front of who or whatever it was, and quickly brushed away the snow on top of it, as blond hair fell out from behind the white snow. His throat dried up as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Emma." Came the gasping whisper. She didn't move, didn't acknowledge that she had even heard him. Kneeling in front of her, he removed as much of the thick, white snow as he could, before shaking her shoulder.
A pained hiss escaped her lips, and his heart leaped at the fact that she was indeed alive. "Emma." He spoke louder this time. Her eyes cracked open as a frightened smile crossed her lips.
"Dad." It was merely a whisper, but his heart soared. Emma hadn't even so much acknowledged Snow or himself since the curse had been broken, let alone acknowledge them as her parents.
"Yes." He smiled. "Lets get you home, and warmed up."
Emma tried to shake her head, but it only made her dizzy. She nearly fell off the large rock formation she had found, and sat upon. "Can't." She whispered. "Hurts."
James' eyes widen. "Where?"
"Arm. Leg." Her eyes started to droop close.
"No, no no. Don't go to sleep. Emma! Look at me."
Her eyes opened, glassy as they were. Sighing, James walked behind Emma and hefted her into his arms as he walked back to the truck as quickly as he could. Carefully he deposited her in the passenger side seat, before walking quickly to the other side and hopping in. He didn't even bother with seat belts as he quickly whipped the truck around and sped toward town.
"Emma, do you have your cell?" When he got no response, he raised his voice. "Emma!" Her body jerked, as another pained hiss escaped her lips.
"Yeah." She mumbled.
"Do you have your cell?"
"Yeah." She whispered. Emma tried to lift her good arm to retrieve it, but it wasn't replying to the message her brain was sending. "Can't reach it." She mumbled out.
"That's okay. I'll call Snow when we get to the hospital."
"'Kay." Emma mumbled as her eyes slowly drifted close again.
James knew that he hadn't met any cars on his way to Emma, so he hoped that he wouldn't met any on the way to the hospital. His foot slammed against the gas as he sped at dangerous speeds down the snow covered road. "Stay with me, Emma." He peeked at her from the corner of his eye and knew it was a losing game. Her eyes were drooping close to fly open, before reverting downward all over again. "You're gonna be fine." He said again. More so for himself, at that point. "You have to be fine." He said as tears slid down his cheeks.
Emma moaned loudly. Pain throbbing through-out her entire body. Her brain tries to figure out why she feels like she's been hit by a truck, but comes up empty. Someone squeezes her hand, and there is movement on her bed. Which only means on thing, she isn't alone, and Emma is fairly certain who she will find standing over her. Snow and Henry.
She couldn't deny them the acknowledgement of her being awake, they apparently have been waiting for it, for whatever reason. So slowly, she cracks open her eyes and sees Henry peering into her face. "Emma?" His voice sounds worried. This worries Emma, but she doesn't want to let on to her fear.
"I thought I was mom?" Emma asked, making a face at how weak her voice sounded.
Tears willed in his eyes as he carefully leaned forward and hugged Emma tightly. "I was so scared, mom."
Emma sighed, as her eyes flicked around the room until she settled on the other occupant. Her mother, Snow White. She still couldn't wrap her mind around that face. Snow White, the fairy tale character, is in fact real, and is her mother. "What happened?" Emma asked.
"From what James gathered. Something happened to your car on your way back into town, and he found you sitting on a rock on the outskirts of town, covered in snow. You were hypodermic, incoherent and barely conscious. You were able to inform him, barely, that your arm and leg hurt. So he drove you to the hospital."
Emma nodded. "How long?" She asked, as her only working arm wrapped around Henry's body as he started to shake from the tears that slipped down his cheeks, wetting her thin hospital gown.
"Two days." Snow frowned. "You're body temperature was very low. Nearing on moderate hypothermia. Obviously storybrooke hasn't had loads of cases of hypothermia, so they couldn't give us much information beyond, you'll wake up when your body is ready." Snow brushed away a tear that slid down her cheek. "Your arm is broken and they had to set your shoulder because it was dislocated. You didn't break your ankle, but it will be sore and swollen for a while." Emma nodded through all of this. "Why did you have to go to Boston yesterday? When you knew that storm was coming in?"
Emma sighed. Her heart hurt at the amount she had put her family through. She hadn't meant to deny them at all. She hadn't meant to push them away all this time, she was simply just trying to deal with all this new information in her own way. It was how Emma worked, and she couldn't just change that because she suddenly had a family. Because she suddenly had parents, and not just any parents, but loving and caring parents. Her father had ventured out in a snowstorm for God's sake to find her.
Emma locked eyes with her mother again, and motioned toward Henry. Snow smiled in acknowledgment, as she touched the boys shoulder. "Henry, why don't you go find James? Let him know that Emma's awake." Henry sighed, but nodded. With Snow's help, he climbed off of Emma's bed.
"I love you, mom." Henry's voice was merely a whisper, as he dried the rest of his tears on the sleeve of his shirt, before scampering off to locate his grandfather.
"Now. Explain."
In that moment, with her arms crossed in front of her chest, and that hurt look on her face, Emma saw more Mary Margaret than Snow White. Emma could tell the subtle differences in the personalities. Mary was more meek, quiet, while Snow was more demanding. Except for times like this, Mary would have been kind with her words, but also demanding in knowing what Emma was thinking.
"It's Henry's father."
Snow's eyebrows shot up unexpectedly. "His father?"
"He's been in jail this whole time. I didn't want Henry to know. He looks at me like I am this great hero. This person that's always going to save everyone, and I know that he wants to believe the same of his father. I couldn't bring myself to let him down, so I let him believe it, but oh God. It is so not true. He's practically a sociopath, and they were going to release him unless someone could testify as to why he shouldn't be released. That's why I went to Boston, was to make sure that he couldn't come here, and hurt my son."
Snow sit down on the edge of Emma's bed. "But Henry is his son too."
Emma scowled. "No he's not. I had some paperwork drawn up, and took it with me. After his hearing, I went to see him. I made him sign the papers. He gave up his legal right to Henry. I can't have him coming here and hurting Henry. He's already been through enough. Regina-" Emma's blood behind to boil at just the mention of her name. The machines beside Emma's bed began beeping uncontrollably.
Dr. Whale stormed into the room, and looked over his patient. "Alright. Emma here needs her rest. Visiting hours are over."
Emma glared at him. "Visiting hours aren't over for another two hours!" She insisted.
He smiled. "Let me rephrase. Visiting hours are over for you. You need rest." He peered over at Snow White.
"We'll be back soon, Emma." Snow stood up.
"Wait." Emma said, and shot the doctor a glare when he was about to protest. Emma held out her good hand. "You promise?"
Snow smiled. "Of course."
"Okay. Goodbye." Emma smiled weakly.
Snow smiled back. "Goodbye, Emma."
As soon as Snow was out of earshot, Emma's smile broadened. "I love you, mom." Sighing, she snuggled back against the bed as her eyes slowly started to drift close, the last thing on her mind was how she finally had the family she had always been searching for. The smile stayed on her lips even after she drifted asleep.