Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma never thought a character she's only seen in cartoons and read in storybooks would give her something that she always needed. Or, Emma meets Snow White in her dreams during one of the lowest points in her life.

a/n

Several things:

1. This is sort of a post-ep to 2x06, it's one of my fave eps so far. Thoroughly enjoyed Emma and Snow's time in the Enchanted Forest during s2.

2. Gonna take some liberties here when it comes to the first curse because fanfiction. Do read on to find out. ;)

3. Don't own OUAT, just borrowing some of the characters to play with.

4. Enjoy! :)

I

"You get a car when you get out. And a baby. Congratulations."

Car... baby... congratulations.

The guard's brisk words rang over and over in seventeen-year-old Emma's ears long after the former had left the cell. Emma stared at the two little pink lines on the pregnancy test kit for what seemed to be the millionth time.

Baby.

What am I going to do? Emma thought. I'm not ready to be a mother. Not with the rut I'm in. She hurled the test kit angrily, sending it flying to the wall. It fell to the floor with a muffled clatter.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. So stupid was she to have believed in Neal, to believe that they have a future together in Tallahassee. Now she was all alone again, languishing in a dank prison cell for the next eleven months because her now ex-boyfriend had left her to take the fall for him. But wait, there's more! He just left her with a baby growing inside her belly. Amazing.

A car full of memories with the man Emma loved and a baby to care for when she gets out of prison make for an awesome future. Right. No matter that she will deal with life very much like how she has always had: alone, with no one to look after her when she needs it the most. All the people she had lived and grown up with had put themselves first. So much for hoping things will get any better after living in the system.

Emma laid down miserably in her cot, curling into the fetal position as the maelstrom of gloomy thoughts swirled viciously in her mind. She carefully pulled out her baby blanket from under her pillow and clutched it tightly to her chest. All personal effects of the inmates were kept in a storage room within the facility as a rule, but one of the guards took pity on the defiant yet frightened teenager when she first came in that she let the young girl keep the blanket with her in her cell, provided that she won't let anyone see it.

She silently thanked the guard for allowing her this small privilege. The thin blanket that went with her cot didn't compare at all to her baby blanket when it comes to soothing her troubles away. Emma forced the depressing thoughts to dissipate as she absently rubbed a corner of her blanket between her thumb and forefinger. How she wished that once, just once in her turbulent young life, someone would envelop her in an embrace and tell her everything will be all right. Is that too much to ask for?

The next thing Emma knew, she was walking in the woods. The sun was shining brightly, sending lances of light along the path. Birds twittered about merrily as they hopped and flew from branch to branch. A soft breeze blew, sending wisps of Emma's golden tangles in her face whilst creating music with the rustling leaves. The place looked so peaceful that she revelled in it. All her worries seemed to melt away as the moments flitted by.

A brooding expression must have been evident on her face still because a voice suddenly came out of nowhere, asking, "Are you all right?"

Emma started at the voice and whirled to see who was talking to her. She stared at a young woman clad in a purple medieval-type gown who looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties. Waves of dark brown, almost black curls cascaded down the woman's shoulders. There was a touch of a smile at the corners of her lips, and her green eyes exuded a gentleness that Emma found curiously comforting.

"Um. I guess," Emma replied cautiously. "Who are you?"

"Snow." The young woman held out her hand to shake. Emma took it.

"Snow. Like Snow White?"

The brunette nodded eagerly. "Yes. How did you know my name?"

Emma burst out laughing. "Seriously? You must be kidding."

Snow looked puzzled. "How so? It is the name my father gave me. But you may call me Snow."

"Well then, Snow, where's the blue and yellow dress with poofy sleeves?"

Her new friend looked even more confused than ever, so still chuckling, Emma said instead, "Okay, I'll play along. I'm Emma, by the way. Emma Swan."

"Pleased to meet you, Emma Swan. Now, what troubles you? You seem so down. Maybe I can help."

And with those last four words softly spoken, Emma sobered down completely and with it her walls came up. Here was a woman who she doesn't know except in cartoons and storybooks, but somehow she cares enough to help her unburden herself. Something at the back of Emma's mind told her that this was just a weird dream but an internal tug-of-war of her emotions ensued anyway.

"I'm fine." Emma said a bit curtly.

Snow reached out a soothing hand to Emma's. "You're too young to be carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, Emma. I know this sounds strange, but I feel a connection with you."

A supposed cartoon character feeling a connection with a nobody like me? Emma thought dourly. Now that's something else. She didn't say anything, so Snow continued.

"So I would like to help with whatever's bothering you... at least ease some of the pain you're keeping inside."

Emma's walls were quite solidly built already at seventeen years of age, but Snow's bold offer made the girl's hardened resolve flounder. The part of Emma which yearns to be comforted easily won out and everything, from her life in the foster system, her plans for the future with Neal that went pfft, and her current situation spilled out from her.

"And now, I just don't know what to do with the baby when it finally comes. The dad is somewhere out there hiding without me, which just goes to show that I'm just a nobody who doesn't count for anything or to anybody. I don't even know what to do or where I will go after prison. All I know is that I don't want my baby to live as I did... still do. What is it with me that people find so unlovable that they find it so easy to walk away from me? I'm just so... lost... and alone!" Emma's voice broke. Tears she tried valiantly to contain leaked out anyway, and she swiped them away with the back of her hand.

"Oh, Emma." Snow tenderly wrapped Emma in her arms and allowed the younger woman to let it all out. "You'll be okay. You're not alone anymore."

Emma remained in Snow's embrace for a long time and when she finally eased back, she gave Snow a shaky smile.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know where all that came from."

"Don't worry about it. Do you feel better?" Snow asked gently as she wiped traces of tears from Emma's cheeks.

Emma nodded shyly.

Snow smiled, satisfied with Emma's response. "I'm glad. I'm sorry though that you have to live through all that pain, and how I wish I could take it all away."

"Oh, but you have," Emma remarked fervently. "More than you'll ever know."

"Nobody should experience what you have gone through, but you know what? I'm confident that you'll get by just fine." Snow took Emma's hands in hers. "It may take some time, but you'll get there. You're stronger than you realise."

"You make it sound so simple. How so?" Emma echoed Snow's words from earlier in their encounter.

Snow gripped the girl's hands tighter. "You developed a strength unlike any other because of what you experienced growing up. And despite the situation you're in now, it's clear that you want nothing but the best for your baby."

"Ain't that the truth," Emma agreed. Something clicked in her as she noticed Snow's sombre expression. "You seem to be speaking from experience."

The sadness was plain in Snow's gentle green eyes. "I had a baby once. A daughter. But my husband and I had to give her up. It was something that we never intended to do, but our kingdom and all our lives then were in great danger, especially hers. We had to send our baby away to protect her, to give her her best chance. Not a day goes by that I don't regret what we did. But if we hadn't done it, we might end up losing our daughter forever. Wherever our baby is now, my husband and I hope she's in a better place."

Emma didn't quite understand why her heart went out to Snow White, considering that she somehow felt for the other woman's baby since she was also given up by her own parents, according to her files.

"When you said that you might have ended up losing your daughter forever if you hadn't given her up... does that mean there's a possibility that she will return?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, I believe so," Snow replied. "But until then, it would have to be a long wait for her father and I."

The young women then shared another embrace, each drawing comfort from the other. Emma relished every moment of it and wouldn't have let go had Snow not pulled back to say something.

"Remember this always, Emma," Snow began, "You are not unlovable. And somewhere out there, there are people who are waiting for you, who love you very much. And they will never walk away from you. You just have to believe."

Emma woke up smiling in the wee hours of the morning, albeit with traces of tears still drying on her cheeks. Anyone who would have seen her would say it was a genuine smile. The dream she had may be kind of out of this world even for her, but she awoke feeling lighter than she ever had in years. How strangely awesome is it that it took a fairy tale character to give her the reassurance and advice that she needed? How's that for a connection?

She may not be sure yet on what to do when her baby comes, but in her heart she knows one thing. Like her dream friend Snow White, she will give her baby its best chance. It may or may not be with her, but she will make sure that the baby will grow up living the life he or she deserves.

Emma fell asleep again, still smiling, still feeling the comfort that being in Snow White's arms had given her.

II

Thousands of miles away, in a small, sleepy town in Maine called Storybrooke, a young woman with cropped brunette hair woke up in her loft. She went through her morning ritual like she always has for the past seventeen years. On the way to school she dropped by Granny's Diner and ordered a takeaway hot cocoa; she felt that the dream she just had called for it. She fiddled with the half-empty napkin holder on the counter while waiting.

Just then, the door to Granny's opened with the sound of jingling bells. The young woman turned to see who it was.

"Good morning, Mary Margaret," the newcomer said.

"Good morning to you too, David," Mary Margaret replied. She went back to playing with the napkin container.

David slid onto the stool next to Mary Margaret. "You look pensive."

The delicate-looking brunette looked up. "What? Oh. I just had a dream earlier that wouldn't go away. It was so vivid that if it weren't a dream I'd say it was real."

"Really? Tell me about it."

Mary Margaret hesitated just a fraction, but then decided she could spare a few more minutes before hurrying to school. "Well, I dreamed about meeting a young girl who's about to have a baby. She reminds me of someone, but for the life of me I can't remember who. Come to think of it though she looks like she has your blond hair, only lighter, and I guess my eyes and chin as well." She inwardly cringed as she realised how much that last sentence implied. David Nolan was married to Kathryn for as long as anyone in Storybrooke could remember.

David didn't seem to mind. "And?"

"And, she was the saddest person I've ever met, even in my dreams." Mary Margaret sighed. "The weird thing is, I felt that we were connected to each other that I just needed to soothe all her pain away. I just don't know the how and the why of it."

"Well, it is just a dream." David remarked. He thanked Red, the waitress, for the steaming cup of coffee she handed him and then turned back to Mary Margaret. "But it must be something if you feel strongly about it."

"True. But then here's the kicker. I said in my dream that I was Snow White, and that my family and kingdom were in danger!" Mary Margaret shook her head even as she laughed lightly.

"Now that is a story that you could tell your fourth graders," David chuckled.

"I know, right?" Mary Margaret stood up as Red gave her cup of hot cocoa. "Thanks. Well, I guess I better be going, David. Nice talking to you."

"Likewise. Have a great day."

"You too."

Mary Margaret thoughtfully sipped on her hot cocoa as she walked towards Storybrooke Elementary. She still couldn't get the girl from her dream out of her mind. Emma Swan, was it? Yes. The young girl with golden hair who has been through so much that she wanted to protect her and provide her all the love that she needs. Mary Margaret wouldn't go so far as to think of herself as Snow White, let alone own a kingdom, but if, on the off-chance that Emma was indeed real, she hoped that she and her baby would get their best chance at life.