Fair warning, this little piece deals with postpartum depression so if that in any way bothers you please click away right now.
Disclaimer: I don't own a single thing.
My love will follow you, stay with you, baby, you're never alone...
-Lady Antebellum;
Tears seem to fall endlessly without her permission as she curls her legs up to her chest and pulls the pillow over her head to drown out the whimpers of her baby. It's not that she doesn't want to go to him, pull him to her chest and soothe away his pains, but rather that her body is physically incapable of doing anything besides laying in that bed and crying. She hates herself. This is not who she is. She is Snow fucking White, bandit and princess, and she was not brought down by some reckless surge of hormones – especially not when her son needed fed.
The front door opens and she tries once more to force herself out of bed but she just... can't. The heavy foot fall of her daughter greets her ears and she listens as her baby picks up her other baby and soothes him. "Hey," Emma greets Neal. "What's up, small fry? You and mama havin' a rough day?"
"Emma," Snow breathes her name like a prayer through all the tears. "Can you... His bottle is in the fridge."
"Nope." Emma sits at her hip and a cold hand finds her arm under the pillows and pulls her to a sitting position. "He needs you to feed him."
"Emma, please." She steadfastly looks anywhere but her daughter's eyes. She's such a failure as a mother. Emma is a warrior and she has no claim to that, nothing but neglect on her part made Emma into the warrior she is today. And today her brain is certain that Neal's headed down the same path.
The blonde's hand comes up to cup her mother's chin and force her to look her in the eye. "Mom," her voice is sharp. "Look at me. You're going to unbutton your shirt and you're going to feed Neal and I'm not going to move until that happens."
Snow relents and swiftly undoes enough buttons that she can feed her son; Emma snags her father's pillow and tucks it under her little brother as he latches on because Snow's arms just do not have the will to keep him positioned. "I can't..."
"You have to," Emma tells her gently. "I went through this too. After Henry was born. The librarians at the prison, they gave me books to read and I always skipped over the part about postpartum depression because there was no way in hell it was going to happen to me – I willed myself not to be attached to him, told myself it wouldn't happen because I was giving him up for adoption so I would feel nothing when he was gone. But I did. I cried for days. Weeks, honestly. The doctor in the infirmary ended up putting me on medication for awhile – anything to stop me from crying. Look... What I'm trying to say is that it's okay. What you're feeling is normal but he still needs you so we need to do whatever it takes to make sure you can take care of him."
"I failed you," she whispers as she brings a hand up to stroke Neal's plump cheek. "I'm going to fail him too."
"And I failed Henry. Regina failed Henry. Neal failed Henry. Dad failed me. Rumple failed Neal. Gepetto failed August. Parents fail, ma. That's just how it goes." Emma's hand reached out and tucked an errant raven lock behind her mother's ear. "The important part is that you keep trying."
Snow nodded as she found her daughter's hand and laced their fingers together. "I'm so... afraid. We lost you for so-"
"I am not letting that happen again," Emma promises. "No one is separating my family again. I'm the savior, right? And I'm a freakin' fairytale princess. And the sheriff. So if someone wants to take my baby brother they're going to have to go through me and probably the whole damn town because we're just so beloved but mostly me."
"They gave you medication?"
"Mhmm," she hums. "It helps with the anxiety and feeling like you're the worst human being on the planet. There's no harm in needing help. It took me a long time to realize that but my mother finally drilled it through my thick skull. It's okay to need help, mama. You can talk to me or dad or Archie. We can make you an appointment with Whale and get help with this. You're not alone."
"Thank you," Snow breathes as she holds on tightly to her daughter's hand and brings up a free arm to wrap around her little boy. They sit in silence as Snow's tears wane to slight sniffles and Neal eats his fill before slowly drifting off; Emma takes her baby brother while her mother fastens her shirt up once again before they settle together on the bed. Snow feels small as she allows her daughter to comfort her, hating herself for their roles once again being reversed but feeling on the mend for the first time since they came home from the hospital. Her head rests on Emma's shoulder and Emma has an arm draped around her mother's shoulders as she balanced her sleeping brother against her bent legs. "Can you... Would you call Doctor Whale for me?"
"Of course," Emma promises. "I'll even go with you, if you want."
Snow nods gently as she reaches out and draws Neal into her embrace, pressing a kiss to his downy soft baby hair. She realizes that the last few years have been so hectic and she was cursed for twenty-eight years immediately following Emma's birth that she's just now dealing with the emotions both her pregnancies brought about and it's truly overwhelming her. "I love you both so much."
"We know," Emma promises. "We love you back."
