The request was so simple, so innocent, so…unlike Emma. It was hard to believe that it was really his daughter. His blond beautiful twenty-nine year old daughter who had built walls that he almost started to believe was too thick to even begin to chip at. Yet here she was, with him, alone. She had sent Henry to bed and Mary-Margaret was busy feeding the baby and putting him down for the night. He was just sitting on the couch with his daughter in the quietness of the loft when he had glanced over to see Emma just…staring at him.

"Emma? Is something the matter?"

The blond didn't even flinch as she continued to stare at her father. Her brow furrow and she bit her lip. It was like she was fighting an inward battle with herself, and the suspense of her silence was killing him.

All of the sudden her face softened and she frowned. The frown broke his heart. He didn't want to push her too far for the fear of driving her away, but he wanted to know the cause of her frown.

"D-daddy." Her voice shook slightly.

David froze. Sure, Emma had called him Dad before, but Daddy? The only time he heard that coming out of her mouth was in that dream right before he found out that Snow was pregnant. 'Daddy' seemed so foreign coming from Emma.

"C-can, will you-will you hold me?" Her blue eyes found his, self-consciously pleading for him to oblige.

David didn't say a word. He just simply scooted closer to his daughter and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her tight to him. She instantly snuggled into him, face buried in his chest. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he looked down at his beautiful, blond daughter cuddle up against him.

There was a pit forming in his stomach cause by realization. Had anyone ever held her like this when she was growing up? Sure there was Neal probably, but she was almost eighteen by that time. Did anyone ever hold his little girl tight and secure? Did anyone chase away her nightmares and tell her that things would be alright? Did anyone at all ever just love her?

Those very thoughts made him tighten his grip on her as he pulled her into him more securely. He swayed gently as he rested his lips on the top of her head. He smiled as he heard her sigh contently.

When he held his precious little baby daughter in his arms twenty-nine years ago and carried her to the wardrobe to protect her, there was this nagging thought in the back of his mind. He wondered if she was going to be loved. Now holding his grown up daughter in his arms, he wasn't sure at all, but that was a thought for another night. Right now he just wanted to hold her in case he doesn't get to do it again.

When Mary-Margaret had finally put the baby Neal to sleep, she walked out to check if her husband was coming to bed. She stopped short when she saw him and their daughter curled up on the couch together. Both of them were sound asleep. Mary-Margaret wanted to take a picture of this moment, but she felt as though a picture would just taint this precious sight, so she decided to let it just stay in their memory.

She pulled a blanket out and draped it over the father and daughter and placed a gentle kiss to both of their heads, trying not to disturb them. Before she turned out the lights, she looked at the sight one more time. The only thing written on both of their faces was contentment.