Pillow Talk

Rating: T (language)

Summary: Post- Fruit of the Poisonous Tree; Mary Margaret comes home to Emma having another breakdown.

Mary Margaret stood outside her door with her keys dangling in her hands, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth at the sounds of a blaring, angry iPod from inside. Whatever had happened at the city counsel meeting must not have gone according to Emma's plan.

Quietly slipping inside, she hung up her coat and crossed the floorboards to where Emma was sitting on the steps, her speakers presumably in her room as she sat with pieces of a coffee mug laying at her feet. Her eyes moved up sheepishly as Mary Margaret held onto the railing, sending a slightly disapproving look at her roommate, who sighed, bowing her head. "I'll get a new one..." She murmured, barely audible over the screaming of the music.

"It's not the mug I'm worried about," The teacher sighed, pressing a hand to Emma's shoulder. "What happened?"

Emma bit her lip before stomping up the stairs, turning the music off, expecting to be followed. When Mary Margaret didn't join her, Emma poked her head over the balcony of the upper floor, her arms crossed on the railing. "Are you coming up?"

Mary Margaret sent a sad smile up as she placed the broken ceramic pieces of cup into a plastic bag before throwing them away. "I kind of gathered you wanted some space?"

"No, I don't." Emma answered quickly, sending a pleading expression down. Mary Margaret read it with a sad one of her own, preparing to speak before giving in and treading up the stairs.

Emma plopped on the edge of her bed, pulling her baby blanket into her lap, explaining what had happened that day before the other woman even had a chance to situate herself. "Regina wasn't building a second house in the woods. She was preparing to build a new castle. For Henry. And I made a complete fool of myself in front of everyone at the meeting."

"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret began to sympathize, but the blonde shook her head.

"I'm not done...When it was over, that bitch came up to me...and told me that I no longer have her permission to see Henry. She said if she catches me with him anymore, she'll put a restraining order on me. And what judge in this whole fucking planet wouldn't be all too willing to protect the rights of an adopted parent? I'd never be able to see him again 'till he's eighteen!" Mary Margaret watched as Emma tried to keep her composure, biting her lip and staring at the ceiling. "She said...that I can't see Henry unless she says so. And that it's not something that's open for discussion."

"What are you going to do?" Mary Margaret gently questioned, placing a hand on her roommate's arm, attempting to be comforting without over stepping.

"What can I do? Henry's right. Good loses, because good has to play fair. I tried to be as fair as I could here, and I did step outside the lines...a little, not even...not even doing anything drastic. And I came up empty-handed. The only thing I have against her is a gut instinct that she's a despicable human being, and gut instincts don't hold up very well in court."

Mary Margaret shook her head, eyes soft as she pushed the issue. "Court? Emma, what...what do you mean by court? What is your end goal, here?"

"I don't know," She answered, letting a single tear fall before quickly wiping it away. "I stayed in this town to ensure Henry was okay. I didn't really have a definition of okay then. I wanted him to be happy, to guarantee his safety...But now, I know that neither of those two things can happen so long as he is living with Regina." Emma shook her head. "And I meant what I said a few days ago. I want to show this town who their monster of a mayor really is. With her doing things like building a new playground for all the local kids, that's going to be pretty damn difficult."

Mary Margaret gave Emma a look. "Do you really think she did that for other people's kids? Or even her own? I don't believe that for a minute. She saw that you had a special place with Henry. She didn't have that; so not only did she take it from you, she built a better one. This was not about a child. This was about slapping you in the face."

"Maybe, but how do I prove that? I need something concrete, something with evidence that I can obtain legally in order to prove that she's nothing but an insane witch! I need something that sticks."

"Okay. Okay, we'll find something. She's got years of lying and covering up beneath her, we'll just have to wait for the opportune moment to uncover something. For now, though...I think it'd be wise to take a step away from Regina. Focus on work, making yourself visible doing your job...the right way, around town. If Henry is your number one priority, I think it'd be best to find a way to get back in his life. His happiness is important to you, and you bring him that happiness. I know it."

Emma sniffed. "I need to find something on her, though. It's the best way to ensure she winds up where she belongs. It's the best way to make sure Henry is safe and happy."

Mary Margaret shifted on the bed, facing her roommate fully. "Emma, I need to ask do a very serious question." The blonde made a brief moment of eye-contact, ensuring it was okay to continue. "Do you want custody of Henry?"

"I don't want to be a mom," She confessed, letting another tear fall down her cheek, not bothering to brush it away. "I never wanted to be. I didn't —and don't— know how to be a mother. I don't know the first thing about discipline or how to take care of a kid."

"But..." Mary Margaret begged for more information, knowing Emma needed to realize her feelings for herself before she could prioritize acting on them.

"But I want Henry," She admitted, her shoulders heaving. "I want him away from that bat-shit crazy woman. I want him to know that he is loved and supported, no matter what he believes or thinks or does. Right now, he doesn't have that certainty. He knows that I feel that way about him; but as he learned today, I can't always be there for him. I need a way to always be there. And unless I can put Regina away for a monstrous crime; something like...embezzlement or murder, there's not a judge in the world who would afford me custody. Given my past track-record and present...animosity...there's not a chance in hell."

Mary Margaret tentatively embraced Emma as the blonde whispered, "I'd give up every chance at finding my own mom if I could be Henry's."

"Oh, Emma...I want you to have both," She replied, hugging tighter. "But...Sacrificing your own happy ending for your son's? Emma, that's the very definition of motherhood. You could do it; I know you could. And we will find something on Regina. I don't know if she's ever stolen mass amounts of money or killed anybody; but with someone that heartless, it honestly wouldn't surprise me." She pulled away, meeting Emma's watery eyes with a comforting smile. "We'll figure this out, I promise. You're not going to lose Henry one way or the other." She paused, squeezing Emma's hand before saying, "I'm going to get dinner started."

"I'll be down in a few," She replied as Mary Margaret left down the stairs.

She stood from her bed and moved to one of the dressers; where she'd finally put away a few things after Ava and Nicholas had been placed with their father. The top, however, was reserved for her son — a school picture he'd snagged from the mayor's office and another of the two of them laughing in a booth at Granny's; taken by Mary Margaret after Emma had smeared whipped cream on Henry's cheek. Her walkie talkie lay abandoned in the middle, and next to it a collection of drawings he'd given her over the time she'd known him.

Several minutes later found Emma sliding into one of their barstools, drumming her fingers against the countertop until Mary Margaret gave her a task of slicing carrots. "I have an idea on a way you could still talk to Henry," The brunette said with a wide smile. "Every morning my kids work in their creative writing notebooks. Everything they write in them is considered a rough draft, so I bring them home to look over them before we talk about...global editing and grammar concepts the next day in language arts. At the end of every week, they pick one of their writings, edit it, and type it as a final copy during part of computer time. Their parents never see their rough drafts...just me."

Emma blinked, slicing hard. "Where are you going with this?"

"Well, the last thing Henry needs help with is creative writing, as I'm sure you could guess. I could turn his rough draft notebook into something for the two of you to talk in. You could write him notes in it, and he can reply. I bring them home every night, so you can talk every day...except weekends, of course, but...this way, you'll be able to at least keep up with him without Regina ever finding out. And I'll make sure he still types something up at the end of the week; that shouldn't be a problem for him."

Resisting the urge to tackle her roommate into a hug, Emma nodded, a wide smile on her face. "I'd like that. Thank you."

Mary Margaret swiped carrot pieces from Emma's cutting board before replacing them with a stalk of celery. "I just have the best interests of my student in mind, is all. Though," She smirked, shuffling to the living room to retrieve a blue notebook from her school bag, "I will miss the ending to his latest story. I'm pretty sure it's about you." She winked and passed the notebook along, where Emma immediately started pouring through it, forgetting about the celery.

She smirked when she flipped to October, where a scribble in the top margin read:

I'm so sorry for taking your credit card. I should have asked first. But the Evil Queen doesn't give me money and I had to find my real mom. I'll make it up to you someday, I promise. - Henry

Below was a drawing of what she could only gather as herself, Snow White and Henry on some sort of adventure through the woods, with a reply from his teacher at the bottom.

All is forgiven, Henry. I'm just glad to see your smile back! I hope things work out in the best way for everyone. - Miss Blanchard

A few days later, Henry wrote in another margin.

Can I write Henry 'Swan' on my papers?

Emma sniffed, shaking her head as she read the response:

I think that would upset the Queen. You know things never go well when she's upset. You should write your legal name on your assignments. But if you want to write 'Henry Swan' in this notebook, you may. I won't tell. - Miss Blanchard

"This kid is something else," Emma laughed. "Henry Swan?" Somehow, it didn't sound right coming out. "I'd never name my kid Henry."

Mary Margaret finished cutting the vegetables the blonde had neglected, pouring them into a boiling pot on the stove. "And what would you have named him?"

"I'm not sure," Emma answered honestly. She'd never given it much thought — why linger on what couldn't be? "Just not Henry."

Thanks for letting Emma stay with you! Can I come over to visit? -Henry Swan

So long as you're not getting yourself into any trouble with the Queen; my door will always be open for you. - Miss Blanchard.

The next few pages were filled with an elaborate story detailing a ball that would take place after the curse on Storybrooke was lifted. Some of the queen's henchmen were apparently not too happy about her banishment, and had made an attempt to ruin the festivities. But thankfully, sword-wielding Henry and Emma had managed to save the day for everyone, including Emma tackling a knight from behind after he'd made an attempt on Snow White.

"Looks like I'm saving your ass from the bad guys," She commented, earning a giggle from Mary Margaret.

"Oh, come on. Snow White can totally defend herself."

"Hey, take it up with Henry," Emma laughed, standing to locate a pen before turning to the first blank page in the notebook. "What should I write to him first?"

Mary Margaret leaned over the counter, crossing her arms against it. "You could start by clarifying that the distance between you isn't something you want...but...don't encourage him to take it out on Regina. As much as we can enjoy her misery, he still has to live with her and respect her to a point."

"He's a hell of a lot more respectful than I would be," Emma mumbled, tapping the pen against the paper as ideas began formulating. She scrawled on and over a page, ending with 'give 'em hell, kid' before signing her name with a heart. She wasn't quite ready for the 'L' word yet. But she hoped he got the message.

"You know what's weird to me?" Emma started, returning Henry's notebook to Mary Margaret's bag before the shorter of them passed plates and silverware to set the table with. "If Regina wanted something that would love her unconditionally, why adopt a kid? A kid can think for himself and get into all kinds of trouble. If I were so desperate for affection, I'd get a dog. Dogs can't talk back and they can only be resentful for a maximum of five minutes. She's got a long ass road ahead of her dealing with Henry."

Mary Margaret threw her head back in laughter. "Can't you just see her sitting in her office with a little demon lapdog yipping at people when they walk in? She'd probably have a cape on it and everything."

Emma snorted, "Oh no. Regina Mills would have a big, nasty Rottweiler chained to her desk with a spiked collar. She'd probably send it after small children for a snack."

Finally settling in around the table, the two devoured dinner and sat back, still reeling at the idea of Regina with a puppy. "Maybe we should get a dog," Mary Margaret said with a shrug.

"Why, so you can have your friend at the animal shelter help pick the best one?" Emma teased.

Mary Margaret blushed. "Well, he would be the one with the expert opinion, naturally."

"I've never been anywhere long enough to have one. Of my own, anyway. A few of the houses I was in as a kid had dogs. They were all mangey, uncared for mutts who'd do their business all over the place. I thought you liked birds, anyway."

"I do...but, who knows. Everything's changing around here; ever since you decided to stir things up in this town. Maybe it's time to branch out try new things."

Emma nodded. "Maybe...Thanks...for, everything today. I'd probably still be breaking things if you hadn't talked me down...and helped me find a way to check up on my kid."

"You're welcome," Mary Margaret said gently, tapping Emma's shoulder as she stood, moving their plates to the sink. "Want to help with the dishes and then we can read?"

Emma nodded, standing with a smile, sending a thankful note to anything listening for Mary Margaret.