A/N: Next week's promo has Emma wearing a black sweater. So they've been in Neverland for a week and she's never worn it. Where did that thing come from? And then I realized she was wearing it in 02x22 (bummer). Anyway, my sleep-deprived mind decided this is how she ends up wearing it. Comments are always welcome.
Mary Margaret notices it the moment Emma and the two men fighting for her heart return: her daughter is shivering. She might still be learning how to be mother (and she'll never be done learning), but there are a few things she does know about Emma. One of them is that she needs to find a quiet moment to ask her what has happened. She doesn't like opening up and she won't with Neal or Hook right beside her. So she waits. Pretends she didn't see anything. The moment comes sooner than she expects. Emma is rubbing her arm and Mary Margaret wonders if she's cold or hurt. She hopes for the former, but fears the latter. Once again she is reminded how much Emma resembles her father. Neither of them cares what happens to them. All they care about are the people they love. The vile taste of anger is on her tongue again, because she remembers David's fate. She will never get used to this feeling of hopelessness. So she walks over to her daughter hoping to be able to help.
"Hey," she says softly and touches her arm. It is ice cold and Emma winces, "are you ok?"
"Yeah. Everything's fine."
"Your arms are like ice." Mary Margaret puts her hands around them. She doesn't remember her arms being so thin. And they're just way too cold. She hopes she can at least provide her daughter with some warmth.
"It was pretty windy." Emma's answers are short. She clearly doesn't care for her health. Her eyes are firmly set on what Tinkerbell and Neal are doing. Mary Margaret is almost certain that something happened between Emma and the two men. She doesn't want to push the topic, because she knows she won't get far. She can almost see the walls Emma has put up. They have come down here on this island. For the most part. Ever since they have found Neal, she seemed to have reverted to her old self. And put her defenses back up.
"You need to get warm."
"I'm fine."
"Emma…"
"Seriously, I'm fine." But her teeth almost chatter and her lips seem to turn into a light shade of blue. She's anything but fine and she can't fool anyone. Least of all her mother.
"No, you're not." Mary Margaret whispers and rushes off angrily. She rummages through her backpack. She knows she packed it when Emma abandoned it on the ship. Maybe it had been a moment of motherly foresight. Or just a lucky coincidence. But she had seen it lying around and she'd picked it up. Emma's black sweater.
"Here." She shoves it at her daughter, who just stares at the garment and then up at Mary Margaret.
"I thought I'd left that on Hook's ship."
"Yeah well, I thought you might need it after all." Carefully Emma reaches for it. She seems afraid to touch it; as if it could disappear again if she did.
"Thanks." She mumbles and puts it on.
"That's better, isn't it?" Despite her anger, Mary Margaret's voice softens. Sometimes there is still a child in Emma. It's that part of her that's forever lost. The orphan trying to find her parents, her place in this world. She can only offer her small parts, but Mary Margaret still hopes they will amount to so much more in the end.
"I guess."
"You definitely look warmer." Emma grants her a rare smile, but it disappears soon enough. There are just too many shadows here. Mary Margaret knows that Emma won't be fine until they finally find Henry and get off this island. She understands it. And it breaks her heart. They have yet to find a way to help David get off the island alive. It's nothing she can burden Emma with. She can see it in her eyes; the worry for her son, but also for the father she's just found. Mary Margaret turns to see where David is and finds him looking at her. He gives her a hopeful smile and she tries to return it. She is almost certain that she fails.
"You two made up?" Emma asks.
"Sort of. We still- we will find a way to make this work. After we find Henry." Mary Margaret takes her daughter's hand in hers. At least she doesn't pull away. It's still too cold for her liking, but it's getting warmer.
"We will," Emma agrees, "and thanks for packing my sweater… mom." She smiles shyly and somewhat mischievously; she looks like her father that way. Mary Margaret engulfs her in a tight hug that almost takes Emma's breath away. But she needs this. And she doesn't want her daughter to see her tear-filled eyes. Because she doesn't know if they're happy tears – or sad ones.
There's still so much to figure out. But right now all she can do is give her daughter some warmth so she can find her son. It has to be enough for now.
THE END