Part 2

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: Forgot to mention before, but this fanfic is dedicated to adventuresinstorybrooke. The fairest to my charmer. Happy Half-Birthday buddy!

As expected the verbal fight was fierce when she realized he wasn't driving them home, but thankfully reminding her of her promise to Henry made it brief as well.

The same, however, couldn't be said when he was finally forced to call Snow at school when the ER doctor took one look and said they needed to x-ray. Not to say that he wasn't grateful for the thoroughness, he still shudders thinking about how discolored and painful Emma's ankle looked, but interrupting his wife's class to inform her that he was with their daughter at the hospital was not something he'd looked forward to.

Tearing the phone from his ear in the waiting room as Snow shouted through it, the other patients and families get a good earful of how his wife feels about the situation before he's able to calm her down with the promise that he wouldn't leave Emma's side. And no, she shouldn't leave school with Henry because it wasn't that serious, and yes it probably was just a sprain like last time, and no, she really didn't need to be there.

He's still arguing this point with her when he hears a nurse calls his name and finally telling Snow that he has to go and yes he'll give Emma a hug for her he ends the call, quickly moving to follow the nurse back to where Emma is.

She's waiting in the examination room they'd first placed her in, and looking none to pleased, crutches and all. He cringes, looks like that sword-fight with Henry will have to wait after all.

"But not broken?" he asks, eyeing her exposed and wrapped foot, soft bandage only.

"No, just sprained again. But I'm supposed to stay off it for a while. So thanks for that," she growls, and he sighs. Honestly sometimes it was like dealing with another Snow, those two were so infuriatingly alike when they were angry.

"Well, from the sounds of things you should have been off it before. I assume you're free to go now?"

"Yeah, just got to drop off the paperwork and pick up the drugs."

"Drugs?"

"Yeah, painkillers just in case. Apparently the old injury made this new one slightly worse."

"Okay, well, let's go," he nods, grabbing the wheelchair he'd spotted coming into the examination room. It hadn't been there before, so he knows they'd expected her to ride in it and she'd refused. Rather than argue, however, they'd left that job to him. Wonderful. Where was that wealth of patience when he needed it?

"Not in that damn thing I'm not."

"Emma, please. Your mother already ripped me a new one on the phone can we do this later?"

She eyes him; taking in what he's sure is a disheveled and tired impression. He'd been more worried about her well being than he cared to admit and on top of that had had a worried Snow in his ear. Sometimes it was easy to forget that she'd been a princess and then a queen once and not an elementary school teacher, but today was not one of those days.

"Fine," she finally sighs, and he smiles, knowing he's just won a major victory.

Painkillers and paperwork taken care of, they're home in no time, and he tries not to act too excited when she lets him help her up the stairs. He'd cut off his own hand first before wishing hurt on Emma, but the thought of being able to take care of her just this once thrills him.

First helping her out of her jacket, he then tells her to wait for a moment before running to place a pillow on the coffee table and retrieve a glass of water from the kitchen. Motioning her over with some minor cajoling she hobbles on her crutches and sits down on the couch with a sigh, elevating her leg to rest on the pillow. The pain that flashes across Emma's face when she does so she tries her best to hide, but he's been around her enough now to know better, hence the water.

Tearing open the prescription bag, opening the bottle, and taking out the recommended dosage he places the pills in one of her hands and the water in the other without a word. She swallows them down, but not without a scathing look first. He just smirks, taking the glass back and placing it on the far side of the coffee table before sitting down himself. The couch isn't big, but he does his best to give her some space. That done he leans his own head back on the cushions with a sigh.

"How bad did she ream you?" He hears an amused Emma ask as he does, and even he has to laugh a little as he raises a hand to rub at his eyes.

"Enough. Remains to be seen if I'm spending tonight out on this couch, though."

"That bad, huh? Well, I'll put in a good word for you. No reason you have to pay for my stupidity."

Now that makes him open his eyes.

"Emma, it's my fault you got hurt. I'm supposed to have your back out there and I didn't. If I had we would have a thief in custody and you wouldn't be using crutches."

"Maybe."

"Maybe? What do you mean, maybe?"

"Maybe, hypothetically, it was my fault because I wanted to catch the bad guy first."

All he can do is gape at her.

"Since when was this a competition?"

"I never said it was!"

But then why would she- Oh. But- Really? No. But what if-

She's not looking at him, studiously avoiding his gaze even, her hands twisting over themselves nervously in her lap.

No, it wasn't about competition. It was about pride. About showing what she was capable of doing. She'd wanted him to see her take down that thief, to be proud of her. And right now he isn't sure if he is proud or pissed off. Her plan had backfired, but it could have been so much worse. He could have lost- No, he won't even think it. But how can he tell her that he's always been proud of her, that she didn't need to prove anything to him without scaring her off?

"Hey," he calls out, and watches as she fights herself to look at him.

"You'll get him, I know it, I believe in you. But there's no shame in living to fight another day, okay?"

She nods, but breaks her gaze again, and while he desperately wants to know what's going on behind those beautiful eyes, he knows now is not the time to push. But he's also at a loss as to what to say next, what to do.

"You've always been a fighter, Emma, even before you were born," the words tumble out of him unbidden, and he stills, wondering if he's done more harm than good. A quick glance shows that she's looking at him again, eyes wide and unreadable, but there's also something there that tells him to keep going, so he does.

"We didn't have the technology to keep track of you like they do here, but Grumpy gave us something when Snow began to really show. It was a device that could amplify sounds usually covered up by dense objects. The dwarfs used it in the mines to tell if they were about to dig into water vein or something similar. Grumpy thought we maybe could use it to hear your heartbeat, to our delight we found we could, and to this day it's one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. So fast, like one of Snow's bird's heartbeats, and just as fragile.

"One day when we listened in it was slow, slower than we ever heard, and it was all I could do not to cry right along with your mother. We thought your heart was failing, that we were going to lose you, and there was nothing either of us could do but listen. I remember being ready to go to Rumplestiltskin if necessary, to make whatever deal I could to keep you alive. But then we heard it. That little heartbeat was picking up again, whatever had happened you were better. I knew right then and there you were a fighter, that you wouldn't give up. I carry that pride with me to this day, and you'll never give me reason to change my mind."

He finishes his story, but is surprised to see Emma smirking despite the tenderness in her eyes.

"What?"

"Even though you thought I was a boy?" her smirk widens.

"Snow tell you about that did she? Well, she certainly didn't tell me! You can't hold me to that!" He protests, smiling at her short laugh.

"Besides, all I truly cared about was that you were healthy. You and your mother. No OB/GYN to run to like here."

Emma nods, but he can see the wheels in her head turning, realizing just what those implications were as a mother herself.

"Guess it was a miracle we both survived that whole deal at all, huh?" she wonders aloud.

"So you can understand if we're bit overprotective and I drag my sheriff daughter to the hospital?" he jokes.

"Maybe Deputy Charming, but I'm going to have to put a note in your file. 'Complete disregard for authority' or something like that," she smirks back.

"Fair enough," he smiles.

And though it's small, she smiles back, and he loves that he put that smile there, especially after the day they've had.

When he leans his head back again to bask in the glow of such a victory, however, he feels the cushions next to him shift, and the breath in his throat catches when Emma rests her head against his shoulder. Was he dreaming? Had he fallen sleep on the couch a while ago and was dreaming this whole conversation?

But the tension he feels coming off of Emma in waves is no dream. She made the first move, but it felt like she was waiting for something. But what?

On instinct he slowly raises his arm, and finds himself blinking back tears as Emma scoots closer, leaning on his side fully with his arm around her shoulders.

Maybe it's the painkillers, maybe it's his story, but right now he doesn't dare look that horse in the mouth. So leaning his head back once more, his arm securely around his daughter as she rests against him, Charming closes his eyes and before he realizes it he's fast asleep.