A/N: I'd just really like the show to address the poorly developed Emma/Snow relationship. If, in fact, this has been Adam and Eddy's plan all along, to show how the Dairy Queen feels maternally toward Emma, and how Emma might be just a tiny bit receptive to that because Snow's lack of mothering, I will be pleasantly surprised because I've just been assuming A&E would rather focus on less interesting things.

Emma sat at the kitchen counter, nursing a mug of hot chocolate. She had the lights dimmed just enough that she could see, but not too bright that they would wake her parents up. It turned out she shouldn't have worried. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand lightly ghosted over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Snow said quietly.

"It's –you didn't," Emma backtracked, shaking her head in an effort to clear her thoughts. "Neal's asleep for once; you should be, too."

"Well," the brunette pursed her lips and slid onto the stool next to Emma, "my other baby's up right now, so I'm not off duty."

Emma stared into her mug for a moment, trying to formulate a response. "I'm not a baby, you know. I don't need you to stay up with me."

Snow sat quietly for a beat, keeping her face purposely unreadable, reminding Emma of some of their late night conversations when her mother was just Mary Margaret Blanchard, her best friend. She knew that look. It meant that Snow was keeping her emotions out of it for Emma's sake. Putting her first.

"You may not be a baby, but you're acting like a teenager," the smaller woman finally remarked. To let it sink in, she slid off the stool and moved over to the stove, where a newly boiled kettle of water sat.

If Emma felt the need to make real hot chocolate with stove-boiled water and real cocoa powder, and not the quick microwave and Swiss, then whatever she was feeling probably wasn't good. Figuring Emma wasn't going to respond, she continued, "In fact, you've been acting like a teenager ever since you broke the first curse, sometimes even before then." She moved about the kitchen as quietly as she could, almost on autopilot, as she gathered the ingredients for the hot chocolate.

Inwardly, Emma groaned. She was so not in the mood for one of those conversations. Not at… 2:27 in the morning.

"Now, I know you're probably not in the mood for this right now," Snow said, as if reading her mind, "but we're both up, and something's obviously bothering you. So unless you'd like to talk about it, I'll fill the silence."

"Or we could just sit. Or I could. You really don't need to be up right now. I'm a grown woman, and I'm perfectly capable of putting myself back to bed when I'm ready."

Snow looked at her daughter patiently yet sternly. "Emma, I don't think you're understanding me. I want to make you feel better."

"Maybe I want to be alone," she replied, then took a sip of her hot cocoa.

"You're trying to push me away, and I won't let you. In the past, I know I haven't been the most attentive person… and I'm sorry for that. I'm trying to make it up to you, okay?"

"By forcing me to talk?" Emma looked over to her.

"No," Snow shook her head, thanking the twenty eight years of practice she's had with dealing with school children to build up her patience. "I'm going to force you to listen to me, because I'm your mother and you're going to listen to me. Or, again, your other option is to just spit it out, whichever you prefer."

Emma didn't feel the need to point out that she was well past eighteen years of age and very much a legal adult who didn't have to listen to anybody or do what anybody told her to do. Hell, she was the sheriff –the highest ranking law enforcement official of Storybrooke because she was pretty sure the FBI and President had no idea it even existed– so she most certainly could do whatever she wanted.

So she sat quietly and stared at the wall, hoping Snow would just give up and go away.

"There've been times I've thought you've acted like a school-age child, with your insistence to have sugary cereal and poptarts for breakfast. Or the times when you aren't thinking and sit cross-legged. And then there are the times I see the usually mature adult you've become, like when we're dealing with a crisis. I see it in the way you parent Henry. Most of the time, though, I see you as a teenager." As much as she wanted to sit next to Emma and grasp her hand, Snow stayed put leaning against the counter so as not to scare her off. "Though I haven't had any experience dealing with teenagers, I think I have a pretty good understanding. You push everyone away except for the person you trust the most, who I suspect is Killian. One of your biggest fears is getting hurt. You feel as though no one understands you. You have a really tough exterior, but you're actually incredibly vulnerable, insecure, and emotional. You love your iPhone," Snow threw in to elicit a chuckle, which she did. "And as your mother, I just want to wrap you up in a blanket and protect you from the world, but I'm too late. That, my dear Emma, is the definition of a teenager."

Oh, how Emma wished she had spiked her hot chocolate when she'd had the chance fifteen minutes ago.

"I'm sorry," she said so quietly, Snow almost missed it.

"For what, honey?"

The blonde's head snapped up at the pet name, but she answered nonetheless, "For pushing you guys away. I don't mean to, it just happens." She shrugged and began fiddling with the mug.

"You don't have to be sorry, I just want to find a way to help you, because I'm sorry, but I don't believe you when you say you're okay with us having another baby."

"Look," Emma said after a moment, "was it a surprise to come back to Storybrooke in hopes of being able to pick back up where we left off, and find out that you were pregnant? Yeah, it was." She bit her lip, determined to keep the impending tears at bay. "Um… it was like, you lost me again, and within a few months, you just decided to replace me." She swiped angrily at a tear and looked down at her hands. "Did you guys even really try to find me? Did you follow the first lead, find a dead end, and give up? And then decide that I'm replaceable?"

"Emma, we tried," Snow said as tears sprung to her eyes. So much for keeping it steady for her daughter. "We did, we asked around, but everyone said there wasn't a way to get you and Henry back. We tried to make peace with it, because we knew you were living a good, happy life with Henry. Besides, you couldn't miss what you couldn't remember. And Neal was an accident. You weren't. We were trying to have you."

"Please don't ever tell him he's an oops," Emma groaned. "I think Henry's still a little scarred from when he found out he was born in jail –obviously an oops."

"Neal will never go through what you went through, Emma. Even if we fail again, I know you'll protect him."

At that, the blonde smiled slightly. Then she turned serious. "By the way, I did miss what I couldn't remember, Henry too. He always played video games involving knights and medieval-ness. I can't believe I'm admitting this, but most of our apartment was ocean or nautical themed. Graham's shoelace was always around my wrist, and my baby blanket under my pillow. I missed you guys, even if I didn't know who I was missing."

As touched as Snow was, she wanted to make something abundantly clear. "I'm sorry you felt as though we replaced you. Believe me, you're irreplaceable, sweetheart, even if you don't see it yet. I wish you would have just told us, though, and we would have told you we weren't trying to replace you."

"How could I tell you that there are days I'm still not okay with what happened, when you guys are so happy?"

"Because we're your parents, and it's our job to make you feel better even if it makes us feel worse." Snow sat back down so she could be eye level with Emma. "I know you're the Savior, Emma, but even the Savior needs saving and emotional support. I know you're Emma Swan, and you do better on your own, and you're not sentimental, and you keep things bottled up, and you don't need anyone," Snow's lips quirked up in a smile, "But to me and your father, you're our daughter, and we will protect you at all costs. You're going to have to get used to that."

"Yeah, well, it's easier said than done," Emma replied as she pushed herself up and placed the mug in the sink. "I'm really trying," she sighed.

"I know you are. And you're not the one who needs to change, it's me. I need to focus on being your mother, not just Neal's. I love you just the way you are, Emma. Every part of you." At that, Emma nodded.

"Goodnight, Mom," she said. Snow's eyes lit up.

"I'll see you in a few hours, honey," the brunette smiled. On her way past Snow, Emma brushed her fingers across Snow's shoulders the same way Snow had earlier.

And so Snow sat on the stool with a smile she felt would be permanently etched on her face.