Though I have always been a big believer in the foster system being good, I do realize it is deeply flawed and I cannot honestly believe that every home Emma Swan was in was all sunshine and roses. That said, there is no judgement if you can't handle the darker topics covered in this piece and if the ugly side of humanity is too much for you then please, please, please click out of this right now. I don't want anyone triggered on my behalf.

Wrote this on a whim tonight, please forgive any and all mistakes.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

The nightmare came just before dawn as she twisted her body deeply into the afghan on her parents' couch; thankfully Henry was at Regina's for the night and her baby brother was adept at sleeping through any cacophony. She shot up to a sitting position as she awoke with a scream, her chest heaving as she gained her bearings before taking off with a start for the safe confines of the bathroom. She locked the door behind her as she slid to the floor, her whole body shaking as she tried to calm her wild breathing.

"Emma," the soft voice of her mother called through the door. "Emma, we heard screaming. Are you okay?"

She could barely breathe, let alone formulate an answer.

"Emma, honey..." She heard the rattle of the doorknob before a sigh from her mother. "Are you okay, sweetheart? Can you let me know that you're okay?"

Emma raised a shaky hand and slammed it as hard as she could against the door.

"Good, that's my girl." Snow's voice was like a beacon of light chasing away the darkness that lingered. "Can you unlock the door, Emma?"

She forced herself to reach up and turn the lock before pushing her way back against the tub and wrapping her arms protectively around herself. It wasn't that she didn't trust her mother, the dream was just so vivid that she couldn't shake the fear coursing through her veins.

Her mother slipped into the bathroom and immediately knelt beside her; her hand reached out tentatively and rest on Emma's shoulder. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"Where's dad," she managed to ask shakily.

"He's right outside, we didn't want to overwhelm you," Snow explained as she tucked a blond lock behind her daughter's ear. "Do you want him in here?"

Emma bit her lip as her eyes darted between the door and her mother.

"Emma, would you rather talk to your father," she asked. "It's okay if you do. Just please talk to one of us; you look so scared, honey, and that scream..."

She blinked a fit of tears away as she nodded. "Please, ma..."

"Of course," Snow acquiesced with a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "I love you." She stood and quickly exited the bathroom to change guard with her husband.

Emma felt horribly; ever since the curse was broken Snow had wanted the opportunity to act like her mother and here Emma was denying her another chance. She was being selfish but there was something about her father that made her feel safe, safer than she had ever felt anywhere. He stepped into the bathroom and a wave of calm washed over her.

David knew that his daughter's pain certainly shouldn't have been happy for him but there was something bubbling up inside him over the fact that his little girl needed him. He took a seat across from her, his knees brushing her feet as he crossed his legs. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and waited patiently as she let go of one knee to wrap her hand around his. "You can tell me, Emma. Whenever you're ready."

"It was just a bad dream," she told him with a voice so soft it nearly disappeared in the space between them. "I feel so stupid that you guys woke up because of me."

"Don't," he ordered. "You're our daughter, Emma, and I don't care if you're three or thirty or three hundred, if you are hurting then we need to be there for you."

She shook her head and fought the urge to pull her hand back. "It was just a dream."

"What happened in your dream?"

Emma sighed heavily and hung her head as she lowered her knees. "Did Mar- Did mom tell you some of the things I told her before? About how I grew up?"

"I know you were in foster care, sweetheart. And, uh, you made it apparent in Neverland that it wasn't always a happy experience." He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and wished he could draw her into her arms, protect her from the dangers of her mind.

She nodded. "I stopped counting homes after my eleventh birthday... That was the worst home."

"You can tell me," he whispered. "No matter how bad it is."

"I was eleven," she whispered with a half sob. "The dad there... He wasn't very old, barely old enough to be a foster dad, but he was nice. There were four other kids in the house but he'd take me out to movies on Sundays and he'd bring me home books if he saw one he thought I would like. And at first it was all... no strings attached, just gifts from a, uh, a dad. But then he started wanting things."

David's blood boiled at the possibilities of what this man, this father figure, could have wanted from his daughter. He squeezed her hand gently, pushing down his anger.

"I didn't let it go much further than sitting on his lap and he kissed me a few times but... I was supposed to tell me case worker if something was off," she explained quietly. "But it was such a good house. His wife had always seemed so nice – she treated me just as well as he did before... I thought if I told her then maybe she would make him leave, maybe she'd still care about us." With her free hand, Emma reached up and pushed her hair back around her ear to reveal a scar. "I got that from the mirror that was hanging in the hall when she threw me into it. She told me I was a liar and a whore, that it was going on my permanent record and I'd never get adopted now."

"Emma," he breathed her name so reverently, like a prayer.

"It's okay... I'm over it," she promised. "Just... sometimes, I have nightmares. Like tonight. Sorry I woke you."

David couldn't stop him from pulling his grown daughter into a hug. "I am so sorry that someone hurt you like that, I'm sorry that you were alone. But I promise, Emma. We will never let you be alone again."

"I know," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I know, daddy."

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her head. "I love you, princess."

"Don't call me princess," she ordered when she pulled back from the embrace. "I love you, too."

He stood and extended a hand to her. "Your mother mentioned something about making us all some hot cocoa."

"Sounds good." Emma let him pull her to her feet and tucked into his arms once more for a hug. "Can you tell her?"

"No," he told her softly. "She deserves to hear it from you. I'll be there though. Every step of the way. And no matter how bad it gets, even if this is only the tip of the iceberg, we're not going anywhere."

She let out another shaky sob as she clung to him. "You make me feel safe."

"That's my job," he told her. "Since the moment I took you in my arms and fought off Regina's knights, it has been my duty to keep you safe. I always will."

Emma smiled and pulled away with a nod, biting her lip as she opened the bathroom door. "Let's go have some cocoa before my brother, the human alarm clock, decides it's time to get up for the day."