The River Always Finds the Sea (Like You Find Me) Chapter 2: Part Two: Mary Margaret, an once upon a time fanfic

The River Always Finds the Sea
(Like You Find Me)
by misscam

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.

Author's Note: AU. Based on a prompt asking for Snowing with infant Emma. I gave Mary Margaret's loft apartment a proper bedroom downstairs as well, because reasons.

Part Two: Mary Margaret

Mary Margaret remembers the day her mother died all too well, every detail of it seared into pained memory. Most of all she remembers the emotions of it, the disbelief, the grief, the fear. Her mother had defined so much of her life that to suddenly lose that felt like losing the ground underneath and plunging into an abyss of the unknown. What was life without her mother?

Mary Margaret remembers that day; she never wanted a day like that ever again.

"What?" she says again. Her head hurts, as if a thousand needles are burrowing into it. She can't be hearing that right. She can't. David...

"There was an accident," Graham says patiently, his voice filled with sympathy. "Drunk driver plowing into the sidewalk. David was badly hurt. He's at the hospital, Mary Margaret. They don't know if he's going to make it."

"No," she says, shaking her head. "No."

The words sound wrong to her. They can't be right. She just married David. They were still on their honeymoon. Last night, she fell asleep in his arms, feeling him kiss her eyelids as she drifted off. That felt right. This feels wrong. He can't...He has to live. He's meant to love her forever; he vowed to.

Oh God, Emma. Emma. He has to live for Emma.

"Emma," she says. Her lips feel stiff; it's hard to form words.

"Ruby will bring her to the hospital. I'll bring you,"Graham says gently. He takes her hand, squeezing it in comfort. "I'll wait for you."

She nods slowly. Gently, he leads her inside, and she realizes she's only wearing a robe, having answered the door thinking it may have been David surprising her with something. He likes to do that, after. He is quite the Prince Charming, and oh, how she loves him.

She isn't even aware of dressing, doing it mechanically while her mind tries to make sense of a world that suddenly threatens to take David away from her and Emma. She can't; it feels as if the very thought of that will make her heart stop from the pain of it.

The drive to the hospital seems to stretch on forever, and she wants to claw at the windows and run to him. She needs to see him, needs to... Needs to will him to live for her, for Emma.

Ruby is waiting for her just inside the hospital, holding Emma gently. "Oh, Mary Margaret."

Mary Margaret just nods. Her voice is too thick to speak. Instead, she gently takes Emma into her arms and feels the comforting weight of her. Emma. Oh, Emma.

Ruby puts a hand on her shoulder. "Anything you need, Granny and I are here for you. Belle too. She's coming as soon as she gets off work."

Again, Mary Margaret nods. She does appreciate it more than words can say; she hopes Ruby knows that. She lets herself be led over to waiting chairs, sitting down and clutching Emma even closer. Emma feels like her anchor, keeping her from going completely adrift.

"Mary Margaret," Graham says. She looks up at him and tries to focus on what he's saying. "David is in surgery right now. The doctor will be out to talk to you when it's over, okay?"

"Okay," she manages. Her voice doesn't sound like her own, she thinks. It sounds like a stranger's, unfamiliar and foreign.

"I'm going to get you something to eat," Ruby says gently. Mary Margaret just shakes her head. "Mary Margaret, you need to eat."

Her mouth tastes like ash and the thought of food makes her sick, but she sighs, giving Ruby a weak nod. It could be a very long day. She doesn't need to faint on Emma.

Emma grips her finger, looking up at her with blue eyes that are so like David's it makes Mary Margaret's heart ache. She looks slightly distressed too, Mary Margaret thinks, as if she can pick up on all the anxiety around her.

"Hey Emma," she whispers, her voice breaking a little. She breathes, trying to compose herself. "Emma. We're going to see daddy soon, okay?"

"Dada," Emma says, and Mary Margaret tries to breathe. Emma's first word. Emma's first now, calling for her daddy, and oh God, she can't breathe, she can't...

"Mary Margaret," Granny says, and she feels comforting arms around her. She breathes and breathes, fighting to regain her composure. Emma looks up at her, eyes wide and frightened.

"Daddy is going to be fine," she promises; she hopes she won't be made a liar.

They can't lose him. They can't.

What would life be without David now?

Ruby returns with food, and Marry Margaret eats it without really tasting it. She feeds Emma too, and curls up in a chair afterwards to just hold her. She is vaguely aware of time passing, focusing on her own heartbeats and willing David's heart to still be beating too.

"Mrs Nolan?" a voice says, and Mary Margaret feels startled as she realizes that's her. Mrs Nolan. She married David Nolan. They didn't even have time to discuss names and whether or not she would change hers.

"Yes," she says, looking up to see a doctor. He looks drained, and serious, and she swallows.

"Mr. Nolan is still alive," he tells her, and she bites back a sob of relief. "He sustained a lot of internal bleeding, but we've been able to repair the damage."

She can feel the 'but' coming; it feels like a sword hanging over her.

"Unfortunately, he also suffered head trauma," the doctor goes on, and the sword drops, cutting right through her. "He is a coma right now, Mrs. Nolan. We have every hope he will wake up, but we're not sure."

Hope, she thinks. Hope. She can hope; she has to.

"Can we see him?" she asks.

"Yes," he says gently. Numbly, she follows him through naked, sterile hallways that feel much too white. She sees David even before they walk into the room, through the glass, hooked up to machines that bleep and whirl, and she has to bite back the bile that threatens to choke her.

He's bruised, she notices, and almost deadly pale. His eyes are closed, and she longs to see them open and look at her.

"David," she says, biting her lip so hard she almost draws blood. "David, Emma and I are here."

Gently, she eases Emma down on the bed, lifting his hand so Emma can touch it while she presses a loving kiss to it. There is still warmth in his skin; still life.

"Dada," Emma says. Her fingers close around his thumb. "Dada."

"Daddy is asleep, Emma," Mary Margaret whispers. "He's going to sleep for a while, and then he'll wake up. He will. You will, David Nolan. I refuse to let you go."

The steady beating of his heart monitor is the only reply she gets, but she decides to consider that agreement.

They stay at the hospital the whole day, and the night. Ruby and Granny bring her clothes and food, and take Emma for walks to play with her every now and then. Belle comes by with flowers and promises of being there whenever she is needed.

Mary Margaret is grateful for it all, but she is also increasingly exhausted by it. She just wants to curl up next to David and wake up to him looking at her. She feels cold, but cold from the inside, and no blankets can help with that.

She falls asleep in the chair next to David, clutching his hand, and wakes to loud, angry voices. Graham and a doctor, she can make out, and a stranger. Clutching a sleeping Emma to her, she walks out into the hallway.

"I demand custody of the girl now!" the stranger thunders, and Mary Margaret draws a sharp, pained breath. The girl...? Emma? Is this...?

"Mr. Nolan," Graham says calmly, and Mary Margaret closes her eyes, feeling exhausted to her very bones. This too? This now...?

"I am the next of kin, I demand..."

"You're not," she says, opening her eyes, and they all turn to look at her. "I am David's next of kin. I'm his wife."

George Nolan looks older than she imaged, she the thinks. His face is drained, with deep lines burrowed into his skin, and his eyes are sunken. He's balding, the only hair by his temples, and it's gray and thin. He looks like an old man, a tired, old man.

"David married?" he says in disbelief, looking her over and clearly finding her wanting. "It doesn't matter."

She glares at him. "It matters to your son, who chose to marry me. He loves me. What doesn't matter is your opinion of me – or of him."

He steps closer, and Mary Margaret can see Graham ready to step in, so she shakes her head. No. She is not going to let George Nolan frighten her.

"My son is a lost cause," George hisses, and she wishes she could slap him, but she's still holding Emma protectively.

"Your son is in there fighting for his life," she counters angrily.

"He will give up, as he's given up everything else in his life," George says, and behind the anger, she hears the hurt. "He's a lost cause. She's not."

Emma, Mary Margaret thinks, and she feels hot and cold at once.

"You're not here to see him, are you," she says. "You came here to take Emma."

"And if I am?" George challenges her. "I can offer her a much better life than you ever could."

"No," she says darkly. "David didn't want her to have the life you offered, but he did want me in her life. He proposed to me asking us to be a family. She's my family."

"Family?" George repeats. "My son may have married you, but you haven't legally adopted his daughter, have you? You don't have an automatic legal right to her."

"Neither do you," she says, refusing to look away. "I will fight you for her. I won't let you have Emma. Now get out."

He looks at her, and at the bundle in her hands, and the look in his eyes makes her shudder. Then he marches out, and she closes her eyes and staggers slightly. Right away, Graham is by her side, supporting her.

"I'm sorry, Mary Margaret," Graham says. "He barged in here before I could stop him."

"You wouldn't have been able to," she says distantly. "He's used to getting his way."

"I'm sorry, Mary Margaret," Graham says again. "What can I do to help?"

He won't be able to do much, Mary Margaret knows. Graham is a very good sheriff, but he isn't a lawyer and he isn't used to the kind of battles needed to defeat George Nolan. Neither is she, for the matter. No. None of the people currently in her life will do much good against George Nolan.

But there is one who could. Someone who could fight George Nolan very well, someone who could help her, but might not want to. Closing her eyes, she thinks of the probable pain of getting that help, but for David, for Emma, she will endure it.

"You can call someone for me," she tells him.

While Graham heads off to make calls, Mary Margaret heads back into David's room. He looks peaceful, but so very still. He will wake up, she has to hope for that. But she can't count on that, not with Emma's life at stake.

"I won't let George take your daughter," she promises. "David. I will fight for her. I'll make sure she's here when you wake up."

She closes her eyes, feeling... Feeling everything all at once, and she leans her head against David's still hand and finally, finally lets herself cry.

She sleeps badly, waking up through the night and always peeking up at David's face, hopeful he will have woken up, and fearful he'll be gone completely, and always having her hopes crushed and her fears not yet realized.

Being torn between hope and fear is exhausting, but she can't let go of hope, and fear refuses to let go of her. She just has to endure, and wait.

Ruby comes by with breakfast, and Mary Margaret eats reluctantly before returning to her chair, waiting and hoping. Emma fall asleep, so she arranges her in the portable sleeper that Belle brought over.

That's how Regina fins her.

"Hello, Mary Margaret," Regina says, and the voice is slightly aged and lower in pitch, but still familiar enough to bring up a flood of memories. Mary Margaret steels herself against the pain of them, taking a deep breath and looking up at her stepmother.

"Hello, Regina."

At least Regina actually came, she thinks. She wasn't even sure Regina would that.

Regina looks tailored, and composed, simply raising an eyebrow. "I got your summons."

"My message," Mary Margaret counters, and Regina just looks at her. "I'd like your help."

"On a legal matter," Regina says. She glances over at David. "Does it relate to this gentleman?"

"This is David," Mary Margaret says, wishing her voice didn't sound so brittle. She needs to be composed for this. "He's my husband."

"Congratulations," Regina says after a moment. "On the marriage. Condolences on the coma."

"Thanks," Mary Margaret says, swallowing. She indicates the portable sleeper, and Regina looks slightly taken aback for a moment. "This is Emma. She's David's daughter, and my stepdaughter."

"My stepdaughter's stepdaughter," Regina says, and her mask falls a little. She looks softened for a moment. "I assume you didn't summon me here for parenting tips?"

"No," Mary Margaret says. "David's father wants custody of Emma. He's very, very good at getting his way legally. But you're better. I've followed your career enough to know that."

"I'm flattered," Regina says. She looks at her. "Is this the part where you beg me for your help?"

"If I need to," Mary Margaret says calmly, and Regina looks slightly taken aback again.

"You care about Emma," Regina says. It's a statement, not a question.

"Yeah," Mary Margaret says thickly. "More than I can say. I love her."

"Good," Regina says briskly. "No one should become a parent to a child without doing it out of love. I think we both know that to be true."

Mary Margaret swallows at the hint of regret in Regina's voice. She wasn't sure what she expected from seeing Regina again after all these years, but this wasn't it. Regina looks at her, touching her face briefly.

"You look tired," she says gently, and Mary Margaret fights the urge to cry. She's prepared for insults, mocking and even disdain, but the unexpected compassion is much, much harder to handle. "All right. I'll help you."

The relief almost makes Mary Margaret slump. "Thank you."

"Thank me when it's done," Regina says, sitting down next to her. "Tell me about David's father."

"It's George Nolan," Mary Margaret says, and Regina's eyes widen.

"George Nolan. Why didn't you say so right away? I've wanted to bloody his legal nose for years.

Despite everything, Regina's obvious delight at that prospect makes Mary Margaret laugh, a laugh that turns into sobs and she hugs herself to keep from shaking.

"I can't lose her. I can't lose him," she says, blinking away tears. "I can't, Regina."

"You won't," Regina says calmly. "I'll get you a guardianship of Emma until David wakes up. If he doesn't, we can look into starting the adoption process. Is there a biological mother in the picture?"

Mary Margaret shakes her head. "David said she signed over all her parental rights to him after Emma's birth. Her name was Jacqueline. I don't know her last name."

"Hmm," Regina says, then stands up. "The birth certificate should list that. You may have to appear before a judge and speak your case at a hearing. Will you be ready for that?"

"Yes," Mary Margaret says, exhaling. She isn't sure how she'll find the strength to, but she'll just have to.

Regina nods, pausing for a moment to put a hand on Mary Margaret's shoulder. "I hope he wakes up."

With that, she is gone, and Mary Margaret is left with a lot of confusing emotions she's too tired to sort through, so she simply sits there, holding on.

When Emma wakes up, Mary Margaret nestles her in her lap, and then moves the chair as close as possible to David before she begins reading to them both. David always loved that, she knows, and she likes to think he can still hear her and still feel their presence.

The story has a happy ending. She likes to think they will too.

Day turns to night again, and turns to morning. Regina comes by with legal papers, and Mary Margaret signs them, too tired to make sense of them. She feels slightly like a zombie, removed from everything, but she refuses to leave the hospital except for brief periods. She keeps Emma with her at most times. Perhaps it's paranoid, but she's almost afraid to let Emma out of her sight, afraid that doing so will mean that she never sees Emma again.

She doesn't think George Nolan past anything at this point, taking Emma by force included.

Graham stops by with flowers in the afternoon, looking tired too. "Mary Margaret, George Nolan has been sniffing around town, asking about you. Everyone I know has stonewalled him, but that hasn't deterred him."

Mary Margaret closes her eyes, feeling Emma fidget on her lap. "Of course it hasn't."

"It won't," Regina says, and Mary Margaret looks up. "He wouldn't know what a deterrent was until it broke his legal nose, and we may have to. Sheriff, may I have a moment with my client?"

Graham nods, giving Mary Margaret a reassuring smile before slipping away.

"George Nolan has contested your your petition for temporary guardianship of Emma and requested guardianship for himself," Regina says. "There will be a hearing before a probate court. Emma will stay with you until the hearing can be held. George tried to contest that too, but the judge saw reason in not removing the child from her current home, especially since there is every hope David's situation will improve."

"George will try to make me seem an unfit parent," Mary Margaret says, looking down at Emma.

"You're not," Regina says sharply. "Don't worry. I have been sniffing around town too, and I haven't been stonewalled. Your friends are very eager to stress all your excellent qualities and your obvious care for Emma. Your record as a teacher will serve you well too. You've done well for yourself, Mary Margaret."

Mary Margaret looks at Regina curiously. "Have you?"

For a moment, she thinks that Regina won't answer at all, or brush it of, but then she sees Regina's expression soften.

"Yes," she says. "When I was working on a case a few years ago, I met a young buy named Owen. His father had been murdered. I ended up adopting him. He's my son now, and doing well in school. I've met someone too. Not marriage yet, but... Yes. I've done well for myself."

Mary Margaret smiles. "I'm glad."

"So am I, Mary Margaret," Regina says, and smiles back at her; it's actually genuine.

Emma rests against her chest, chewing on her dragon toy, and Mary Margaret strokes a few wisps of blonde hair away from her face.

"I love you," she murmurs; she desperately hopes Emma can feel that.

The morning before the hearing, Mary Margaret takes herself and Emma home to shower and dress up properly, knowing appearances do matter to a judge. The loft feels empty and silent without David in it, and she hurries to finish.

It won't be a home again, not until she has David to share it with.

Before they go to the court, they do make a stop by David's room. She lifts Emma up to sit by his hand, and she leans forward to press a soft kiss against his lips.

"I love Emma as my daughter," she tells him softly. "I think you know that, but I want you to know I will fight for her. I'll fight for her until you find your way back to us, my Prince Charming."

"Mama," Emma says, lifting her arms. Mary Margaret swallows. Oh. Oh, oh, oh. Emma called her mama.

Softly, Mary Margaret lifts her up, kissing her face over and over. "Yes, Emma. I will be your mama if I can."

With that, she leaves, not noticing the slight uptick in the heart monitor.

George Nolan has dressed sharply, Mary Margaret notices. He argues well for all the sort of advantages he will be able to offer Emma Nolan, and stresses that Mary Margaret has only been married to his son for three days and has only been in Emma's life a few months before that. He implies it's a rushed marriage that will soon collapse no matter what, and thus shouldn't be considered at all.

Mary Margaret entertains herself by imagining him being pecked on by birds. It keeps her calm, and able to simply there and listen. Calling him an asshole in court probably won't win her much favor with the judge, after all.

Besides, Regina deals with that. She never calls him an asshole. She just very calmly points to a lot of records of people who have, and written testimonies of people who find Mary Margaret a very suitable guardian. She documents Mary Margaret's presence in Emma's life, and Mary Margaret has to fight the tears at pictures of a happy family summer.

"There is also the biological mother," Regina says, and both Mary Margaret and George look up in shock. "She is here today and would like to make a statement."

Mary Margaret almost feels as if she can't breathe. Has Regina set her up? No, she refuses to believe that. Regina must know what she's doing. Still, she can't help but wring her hands slightly, feeling it hard to breathe.

The judge agrees, and Mary Margaret can only stare as a tall brown-haired woman steps forward. Jacqueline. She is dressed expensively, and looks every inch class.

"David Nolan is a good man," she says, her voice clipped. "I gave him full custody of our joint child because I knew he would be a good father. George Nolan offered me a great deal of money for custody of that child and I refused him because I knew he would be every bit an unfit parent as I would be."

George tries to object, Mary Margaret hears, but she doesn't really listen. She just looks at Jacqueline, not sure how she feels.

"I understand David has married," Jacqueline goes on after the attempted interruption is waived off by the judge. "Until he recovers, I would request the court trust in his judgment when it comes to his child. He would not have married Mary Margaret Blanchard unless he had absolute faith in her ability to be a parent."

Mary Margaret swallows. Hearing it said so factually, with such a lack of passion, isn't making her any less emotional over it.

"David Nolan is a good man," Jacqueline says again, and she looks straight at Mary Margaret for the first time. "And thus I know that his wife will be the best guardian Emma could hope for."

During recess, Jacqueline slips out of the courtroom and Mary Margaret hurries after her. She can't just leave it like that. She can't.

"Jacqueline! Wait!"

"Mrs Nolan," Jacqueline says, turning around. She doesn't look distressed, but she doesn't look happy either.

"You can see Emma if you want," Mary Margaret says quietly. "I'm sure David wouldn't mind."

"You're kind to offer," Jacqueline says quietly. "I know you don't understand why I left my own child. You seem naturally nurturing, like David is. I'm not. So no. I won't see Emma. It is better if I don't."

Mary Margaret makes herself nod. This is Jacqueline's choice, and she does know better than anyone that no one should be forced to become a mother; it won't do the child any good. Oh, she knows. Oh, how she knows.

"You love David," Jacqueline says after a moment, looking at her. "I'm happy for him. I meant what I said in there. He is a good guy. Unfortunately, I don't love good guys."

Mary Margaret swallows. "Why did you..."

"Why this?" Jacqueline asks. "Regina tracked me down, but I didn't come because she pressured or blackmailed me, if you're worried about that. I came because I wanted to. Just because I know I wouldn't be a good mother doesn't mean I don't want Emma to have one."

"Are you sure?" Mary Margaret asks softly. Oh, she wants to be Emma's mother more than anything, but only if it's right for Emma.

"I am," Jack says, taking her hand briefly. "Be her mother, Mary Margaret."

Mary Margaret look after her as she walks off, but doesn't stop her. She isn't sure she understands Jacqueline at all, but she can at least honor what Jack wants easily enough.

They win.

Of course they had to, Regina points out, looking oh so very pleased with herself. Mary Margaret doesn't really listen. She feels dizzy, light on her feet, as if the world is tilting and she is off-balance. She can just cling to Emma, letting that anchor her.

She's Emma's guardian. Legally. She can keep Emma safe until David wakes up.

"You and me, Emma," she whispers, kissing her temple. "You and me until daddy finds his way back to us. I love you."

Outside the courtroom, everyone hugs her. Belle, Granny, Ruby, all of them looking happy for her and promising everyone else will be too.

Everyone except George Nolan, who walks past her without a word.

Regina doesn't hug her, but she does pat her shoulder.

"Mary Margaret, you look dead on your feet," Regina says softly. "Take Emma home with you and sleep. You need it."

"I'm going back to the hospital," Mary Margaret says, and Regina shakes her head.

"You always were a stubborn girl," she says, but it sounds more affectionate than anything. "Okay. I'll drive you."

"George won't stop here, will he?" Mary Margaret asks as they begin to walk out.

"No," Regina says. "But I'll keep fighting him if I need to. I have very good legal stamina too. Don't worry."

Impulsively, Mary Margaret leans forward and gives Regina a hug, a touch awkwardly since she's still holding Emma, but nevertheless a hug. "Thank you. I don't know why you did all this, but thank you."

Regina closes her eyes. "I did all this because you were a child I should have loved. You weren't my mother. You weren't your father. You were a child. I could have loved you; I could so easily have loved you. I just didn't let myself."

"Regina..."

"Perhaps I still did a little, underneath all the bitterness," Regina goes on, and pulls back. "Well. It's too late now."

"No, it's not," Mary Margaret says softly. "I would love for Emma to have a step-grandmother. Or is that step-step, when I am the stepmother?"

"I'm not sure that is the legal term," Regina says, but she looks almost teary.

"I believe the non-legal term is family," Mary Margaret says, and Regina looks at her, then nods ever so slightly.

Mary Margaret feels unbelievably tired as she walks into the hospital and begins to make her way to David's room. Days of bedside vigil, legal wrangling and looking after Emma has exhausted her, and longing for him and missing him has emotionally exhausted her, she has to admit. She wants to sleep for a week, but that is not an option.

"Mary Margaret!" Graham says, rushing towards her. "Someone is waiting to see you and Emma."

"What?" she says. George can't be here again, can he? But Graham wouldn't seem so happy if that was the case, would he?

"Look," Graham says, and she lifts her gaze to see David smiling at her. "He started waking up a few hours ago."

David. He is sitting up in bed, bright blue eyes watching her, and he is smiling. David. David, David, David. Oh God, David, and she feels her vision blur as she fights tears.

"Mary Margaret," he says, and his voice, so loving, and so missed, makes it impossible not to cry. She almost runs the last few meters to him, feeling his arms go around her as she leans her head against his chest and cries and cries.

"Dada," she faintly hears Emma say, and she smiles through her tears.

"Hey princess," she hears David say, and feels him shift to hug Emma with one arm, her with the other. She can't quite stop crying, she realizes, as if the dam that has been holding all of her emotions now has broken.

"Shh, Mary Margaret, it's all right," he murmurs. She gulps, feeling him press kisses against her head. Slowly, her tears ease and her breathing calms, and she gazes up at him. Emma has tucked herself underneath his chin, she notices, chewing on his hospital gown. He doesn't seem to mind at all.

"Hey," she manages. He smiles brilliantly, and she tilts her head up and kisses him. He smiles into it, parting his lips, and his mouth tastes sightly cold – from a drink of water, she would guess. Kissing him still makes her feel warm as nothing else seems to have these last days.

"Hey," he murmurs into the kiss, moving to kiss her eyelids as she closes her eyes. His kisses feel feather-light, but still steadying her. "Hey."

"Hey," she agrees. There are a million other things she'd like to say to him – how much she's missed him, how much she loves him, how George tried to take Emma, how she reconnected with Regina, how much it means to see him awake again – but for now, that simple word seems to say enough.

After the nurses are satisfied, and it feels like a million people have been by to welcome David back, after they've been moved to another, more private room, Mary Margaret is allowed to curl up in his hospital bed with him. They tuck Emma in between them, and Emma falls asleep clutching one of his fingers in her hand.

"She's missed you," Mary Margaret tells him.

"I can see that," he says softly, looking down at her with infinite tenderness.

"I missed you," Mary Margaret goes on, and he caresses her face gently.

"I can see that," he says, and she imagines she must look a terrible mess, but he just smiles lovingly. "I know you've looked after Emma, but I don't think you've been very good at looking after yourself, my love."

She could deny it, she supposes, but he couldn't believe her, and he would be right to.

"I haven't," she admits. "It didn't seem that important."

"It is to me," he says sternly, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip. "I love you. Nothing matters more to me than your and Emma's well-being."

"And nothing matters more to me than you and Emma," she tells him. He smiles faintly, and she knows he can't be mad at her for that. "David. While you were in a coma, your father came."

"Dammit," he says, looking pained. "I suppose he's still listed as my next of kin in my medical files since we only just got married. I'll have that fixed, I promise. I hope he wasn't unpleasant to you."

She swallows, and he takes in the expression on her face and pales.

"Mary Margaret?" he asks. "What did my father do?"

"Demand Emma," she tells him, and she can see him tighten his jaw, clearly angry.

"He has no right to her," he mutters, glancing down at Emma's sleeping form. "The bastard."

"He tried to get it," she says. "I... I am Emma's stepmother, and that meant I wasn't a natural guardian. Regina explained it all to me."

"Regina?" he repeats curiously. "Your stepmother?"

"I reached out to her," she says, and he listens intently. "She was the only one I could think of that would be able to fight George on the legal parts. She actually helped me, David. We won in a court hearing. I was appointed Emma's temporary guardian."

"I see," he says softly, gazing at her.

"I knew you didn't want your father near Emma," she says, feeling his finger gently trace the lines of her ear. "I hope you're okay with what I did."

"Okay with?" he says, and shakes his head. "Mary Margaret, I am blown away by it. You stood up to my father. You drove yourself to visible exhaustion by, I'm guessing, watching over me as well as Emma. You reached out to your stepmother to protect Emma, and I know that must have been hard for you, given your history. You won a legal battle you shouldn't have had to fight, and I'll make sure you never have to. Mary Margaret, I... I didn't think I could love you anymore when I married you, but now I know that yes, I can."

She feels tears prickle at her eyes again; she can't help it.

"Don't cry," he murmurs softly.

"Happy tears," she promises him. "David. I love you so, so much. I didn't realize how much until I almost lost you."

"You won't," he promises, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead that feels like a promise too. "Sleep, my love. It's my turn to watch over you now."

She does; for the first time since she learned about the accident, she sleeps without fear of what she'll wake up to.

She isn't sure how long she sleeps, but it is well past morning and probably more like noon when she forces her eyelids open. She's in a different bed, is the first thing she notices. Someone has wheeled an extra bed into the room – probably nurses, she would guess.

David is in the bed next to her, she sees as she shifts her gaze to her side. He is awake, and looks shaved and showered. Emma is sitting in his lap, and they're playing a rather intensive game of peek-a-boo that has Emma giggling.

They look happy, both of them, and she watches them with a lump in her throat. This. This makes everything worth it. Father and daughter, and the two people she loves most in the world, reunited.

"Daddy thinks we're being watched," David whispers conspiratorially, and waves Mary Margaret closer behind Emma's back. She quietly gets out of the bed, and tip-toes up to them. "Peek-a-boo... mommy!"

He turns Emma around, and Emma laughs, pushing her fingers against Mary Margaret's nose several times. Mary Margaret laughs with her, and sees David smile at them both.

"Mama," Emma says, and Mary Margaret swallows. She hasn't had the chance to talk to David about Emma calling her 'mama' yet, and... Wait. He just called her mommy to Emma. He called her mommy.

"Yes," he says, lifting a hand to Mary Margaret's cheek. "Your mommy, Emma."

"David," she says, but he puts a finger to her lips.

"Regina stopped by this morning. You were still asleep, and I refused to let anyone wake you. You needed your rest. But she promised to help us with the paperwork for the adoption."

She knows that can only mean one thing; it still takes her breath away. "Of Emma?"

"Yes," he says, wriggling his fingers at Emma, who laughs in delight. "To become her mother legally. If you want to, of course."

"Of course I want to," she says, her voice breaking slightly.

He nods, and her gaze is oh so loving as he looks at her. "You're already becoming her mother in all the other ways. You're her mama. You're the only mother she'll ever know."

The way he phrases that makes her tilt her head slightly.

"Regina told you about Jacqueline showing up at the hearing," she guesses. He nods softly. "I'm sorry."

"You know, I'm actually not," he says slowly. "I was for a long time. I wanted Emma to have a mother, but now I know that she will. She'll have you."

Mary Margaret can only nod. She doesn't quite trust her voice. After a moment, she steps next to him and leans her forehead against his temple.

"I'm so glad Emma and I found you," he says, voice thick with emotion.

"Me too," she whispers; they stay like that for a while, just content to watch Emma together.

Ruby takes Mary Margaret over to the diner later, on David's insistence that she gets some proper food, and feeds her a very large lunch that Mary Margaret almost gulps down. She hasn't been eating enough the last few days, she knows, but only now does she feel any appetite.

"You look better," Ruby says, smiling at her as she finishes up the last bite.

"I feel better," Mary Margaret says. "Thank you, Ruby. You and Granny have been wonderful the last few days."

"I didn't feel like much help at all," Ruby says, and sounds pained.

"You were there," Mary Margaret points out. "Like you've always been."

Ruby smiles softly, taking her hand. "You know I've been happy to. You're like family to me and Gram."

Mary Margaret smiles. Family isn't what you're born into, but also what you make yourself, she's learned, and now she's living that fact.

"I like him too," Ruby adds after a moment. "He actually turned out to be a decent Prince Charming after all."

"He did," Mary Margaret agrees, glancing down at her ring. "He has an equally charming daughter. I'm going to adopt her, Ruby. I'm going to be her mother."

"Of course you are," Ruby says, standing up. "You love that little girl as fiercely as you love him, and when you find love, you make a family out of it. That's how you've always been, M. Now, I can see on you that you're itching to get back to that hospital and that family of yours, so two hot chocolate with cinnamon to go?"

Two hot chocolate with cinnamon in hand, Mary Margaret returns to the hospital, but pauses at the entrance when she notices being watched from a parked car.

It's George Nolan, she realizes with a start. For a moment, she considers just letting him be, but then she lifts her head and walks over. She will not let herself be frightened by him – not now, not ever.

He looks at her with disdain, but he looks even more tired than the first time she met him, almost sickly so.

"Have you come to gloat?" he asks. "Spare yourself the breath."

"I'm sure Regina has done the gloating for me," she remarks dryly. "Why are you here?"

He looks away, and she looks at him, unsure how to read him. It would be easy to just consider him a villain, she supposes, but it doesn't have to be that way.

"David is awake," she offers.

"I know," he says, and she can hear the odd tilt to his voice. He isn't indifferent. He wants to be, but he isn't.

"You could go see him," she says. "You won't have a warm welcome, but if you're willing to..."

"To what?" he spits, glaring at her. "To crawl on the floor and beg his forgiveness just for the chance to be considered his father again?"

"Yes," she says hotly. "If you love him, that's what you would do. You'd endure anything for that chance to be in his life."

"I will not take parenting lectures from you," he says, and she swallows her anger. It won't do any good. Anger is all this man knows now, and she has no desire to fuel it.

"I'm sorry," she says softly.

"Pity?" he says, staring at her as if he can't make sense of her. "From you?"

"Yes," she says mildly. "Because you have a wonderful son, and you don't see that. You only see what you want, not what you could have. You don't see David, but I do. I see him, and I love him. I always will."

With that, she walks off. George Nolan probably won't even understand why she pities him, but she does. He feels a loss, yes, but he'll never know what he lost with David, not really.

David is sleeping when she walks into his room, Emma curled up on his chest and sleeping as well. Quietly, she moves into the room, and curls herself up in the chair next to them. She just sits there, drinking her coffee, enjoying the sensation of feeling at peace and in no rush to wake either of them. They need their rest too.

"No fair," David says, and she glances up at him. He's looking at her through lowered eyelids, barely awake "Hot chocolate with cinnamon?"

"Of course," she says, standing up and moving over glance down at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Deprived," he says, and lifts a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her down for a deep kiss. She can feel his tongue brush hers, and he seems to lick his way into her mouth greedily. "Mmm. Cinnamon."

"I brought you one too," she murmurs, slightly breathlessly because of the kiss.

"I prefer this way of tasting it," he says cheekily, and deepens the kiss again, soon having her moan lightly. "Mmm."

His lips cling to hers for a few seconds after he breaks the kiss before he pulls back, and his voice sounds husky. "I can't wait to get home."

"You're going to have to wait until the doctor clears you," she tells him sternly, and he pouts. "I'm not taking any chances with you, David Nolan. I love you too much."

He looks at her, then lifts his head and steals another kiss. "You do love me too much, Mary Margaret. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but..."

She puts a hand to his lips.

"You were you," she tells him. "That was enough."

One day, she'll make him see that, she thinks. One day. She has a whole life to show him, after all.

It takes time, and two doctors signing off on it, and a schedule for physical therapy agreed on, but eventually, Mary Margaret is allowed to take David home.

She dresses herself and Emma up for the occasion; Emma in a blue dress, herself in a soft yellow dress. Emma seems to pick up on it being a special occasion, babbling happily and trying to repeat words when Mary Margaret talks to her.

David lights up the moment he sees them. He has changed too, she notices, out of a hospital gown and into normal clothes. "Hey, you two."

"Hey," she replies, smiling at him.

"'Ey," Emma declares.

He chuckles, leaning forward to press a kiss against Emma's temple.

"Are you ready to go home?" Mary Margaret asks him, and he leans down to press a kiss against her lips.

"Am I ever," he says, exhaling. "Take me home, Mary Margaret."

She takes his hand, and does. She leads him out of the hospital, drives them all home, and leads him up the stairs to the loft. He pauses by the door, noticing the wooden sign she's put up, and traces the lines of the letters burned into it. Mary Margaret. David. Emma. Space underneath for more.

"Marco made it," she tells him, watching his face.

"I like it," he says, and he looks far away for a moment, perhaps lost in some memory. Then he smiles at her and Emma, and she opens the door for him.

The loft is clean and filled with flowers, bouquets from half of Storybrooke, it feels like, and with a stocked fridge courtesy of Granny, a stack of new books for Emma courtesy of Belle and of course, the 'welcome home, David' banner courtesy of herself.

He looks around, then pulls her into an embrace, but gently, since she is holding Emma.

"I'm home," he says, and the relief in his voice is palatable. "You've given us a home, Mary Margaret."

"No," she says, and he looks down at her. "We found a home together, David. All three of us."

He smiles, and dips his hands down to her waist before he dips her and kisses her, and Emma laughs at the motion.

After they've had dinner, after he's rested in her lap with Emma resting on his chest while she read to them both, after they've given Emma a bath together, after they've put Emma to bed together, he takes her by the hand and leads her up to the upstairs bedroom.

"I like your dress," he tells her, sliding his fingers underneath her shoulder straps. "I've wanted to get you out of it all day."

She laughs. "David, all you ever seem to want to do with me and dresses is get me out of them."

"That's the best part," he protests, and proceeds to show her exactly why.

Later, much later, a ravishing in bed and a playtime in the tub later, they check on Emma and then crawl into bed together to sleep. She tucks herself underneath his chin, and he traces slow circles on her upper arm.

It reminds her of that night before the accident, when he held her just like this, and she woke up alone and to the prospect of maybe losing him.

She didn't, but there is always a risk, she knows. She could lose him. They could lose Emma. Love runs the risk of loss, but life without finding love is an even greater loss.

"I love you," she hears David whisper into her hair.

She falls asleep like that, loved and held, and wakes up like that too; like she's going to for all the days to come.