Author's Note: Oh, Charming Family, I wish the show did more with you. *heart* I was in a feels kind of mood, apparently, because this totally just happened on its own.
It took less than five minutes for Emma's breathing to deepen and her grip around Snow's hand to go slack. A relieved half-smile pulled at Snow's lips as she stopped running her thumb over the back of her daughter's hand. She did not, however, let go. "She's out," she murmured to her husband.
Charming let out a soft breath of relief, happy that his daughter had managed to fall asleep despite her pounding headache. He sat for a long moment with his gaze locked on his baby girl's now peaceful face before glancing down at his son, still cradled in his arms. Then he looked up at his wife with an amused smile. "He is, too."
And sure enough, Neal, too, had fallen fast asleep.
The two of them simply sat and watched over their sleeping babies. These were the moments Snow lived for. These peaceful little moments made her forget all the pain and all the missed time, little moments when she could pretend she'd always been Emma's mom and Charming had always been Emma's dad. Little moments when all the awkwardness and anguish melted away and everything fell into place and they all simply … fit.
For these brief little moments in time, everything felt right.
"Is it odd that I could watch them sleep all day?" Charming asked softly, a hint of amusement in his tone.
"Not at all," Snow assured him as she brushed a wayward strand of hair out of Emma's eyes with her free hand. "I could, too."
They were both content to let the moment linger just a touch longer but Neal began to shift uncomfortably in his father's arms. "All right, little prince, I get the hint," Charming murmured, pushing himself to his feet. He rounded the foot of the bed and stepped up beside to Snow so she could give their tiny son a sweet dreams kiss.
And of course she did so, pressing a soft kiss to his little forehead and running a finger down his soft little cheek. "Have a good nap, my little prince," she whispered. Then she watched as Charming crossed the room, swaddled their son, and nestled him in the car seat for his nap, murmuring soft comforts to him all the while.
Snow smiled. In the absence of the bassinet, the car seat was the next best thing.
While he was on that side of the shack, Charming stooped down to pick up the picnic blanket from where it lay in front of the couch. Then, with the car seat hooked on one arm and the blanket draped over the other, he made his way back to his wife and ailing daughter.
Without a word, he set the car seat down on the mattress by Snow's feet and then proceeded to tuck in his sick baby girl. A smirk curled on Snow's lips at the thought of the conniption fit Emma would throw if she ever woke to find her father tucking her in like a five-year-old. She didn't stop him, though. What Emma didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
Charming lovingly draped the blanket over Emma, folding it down around her shoulders. Then, not wanting to disturb her but still wanting to give her comfort, he pressed the barest whisper of a kiss to her forehead. "Feel better, kiddo," he whispered.
It was only then that Snow released Emma's hand and gently tucked her arm under the blanket. "Sleep tight, baby," she murmured as she kissed her daughter's forehead as well.
This was normally the point when parents would leave their napping children in peace, but neither Snow nor Charming could seem to force themselves to leave. In fact, Charming reclaimed his seat on the edge of the bed by Emma's knees.
In the back of Snow's mind was a niggling little voice reminding her that she'd never had the chance to care for Emma like this. She'd never had the chance to soothe any of Emma's fevers or comfort her when she was sick or just sit with her while she slept off an illness. Now that the opportunity had presented itself, Snow was certainly going to take full advantage of it.
Not to mention that she and Charming had lost their baby girl twice now. The return of their memories of the year they spent without her had brought back all the indescribable pain and grief they'd felt at losing her for the second time. And now that they had her back, the two of them wanted nothing more than to hold her close and never let her go.
Snow could see it in Charming's eyes, too, every time he looked at Emma. The pain and injustice over having missed yet another year of their child's life mixed with the sheer gratitude and relief that she'd once again found their way back to them. Frankly, it was a wonder the two of them had been able to let her out of their sight long enough for her to disappear into a time portal with Hook in the first place!
No, Snow thought, running a thumb along Emma's forehead and smiling when Emma relaxed further at her touch, neither one of us can leave her. Not now, not after what we've been through.
A glance across the room proved that Hook had engaged a still concerned Henry in some kind of game involving dice. Snow sent a grateful smile the pirate's way when he caught her eye, and he smiled back back, telling her he would keep Henry occupied while they took care of Emma.
"How long do you think she'll be out?" Charming murmured to her, startling her out of her reverie.
"Not very long," she replied, giving a slight shrug. "If her headache is indeed magically-induced, she'll probably only be asleep for an hour or so. That's about how long Regina always needed."
"And when she wakes up, the headache will be gone?"
"The worst of it will be, yes. It'll probably linger a bit as a dull ache but it won't be the stabbing pain she felt before."
Charming nodded, his eyes locked on Emma. "I hate this, Snow," he admitted after a beat. "I hate that her magic does this to her."
And oh gods how Snow knew how he felt. "I hate that her magic does this to her, too, Charming, but she can also do some amazing and wonderful things with it. Even though I hate that it led to this, she was right earlier. We need to keep each other as safe as possible until we get out of here, and we would have been in real trouble if she hadn't been able to conjure that plywood. Once she gets a handle on her magic, she'll be able to avoid … this." She waved her hand in Emma's direction, indicating her physical condition.
"I know," Charming assured his wife. "I'm well aware that she saved all our lives by pushing herself to get us that plywood, and I'll never be able to thank her enough for it. I just wish it hadn't been at the expense of her own well-being."
"I do, too, but she's our daughter," Snow replied, smiling sardonically at her husband. "Saving others at the expense of her own well-being is kind of hardwired into her DNA."
Charming grinned at her somewhat sheepishly. "That's very true."
They let the conversation trail off, once again content to sit with their napping children. A deep shudder ran down Snow's spine after a moment, causing her to start and Charming to look over at her sharply. "Are you all right?" he asked her, sudden concern flashing into his eyes.
"Yes, just had a chill," she replied somewhat warily. The sudden chill did not bode well. She could feel it in the air, a coldness that, despite their efforts at warding it off, was seemingly seeping in through the very walls. Sheer maternal instinct forced her to lean forward and adjust the blankets around both Neal and Emma.
The sun had disappeared behind some clouds, and Snow was all of a sudden very concerned about the coming dusk. "Charming, I'm getting worried. It's only going to get colder as the sun goes down, and I'm not sure the fire will be able to throw enough warmth to combat it."
"I am, too," he admitted.
Snow nodded solemnly, trying to figure out a game plan. Neal had his blanket and she'd packed extra onesies in the diaper bag; they could double-up on his clothes if they had to. They had the picnic blanket, which was big enough to cover three adults lying side-by-side – or Henry and two other adults. She was ninety-five percent sure there was a blanket in the back of her station wagon; she usually kept one back there for emergencies. That, however, was a less than ideal option. After all, if they could easily get to her station wagon, they wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.
She hadn't seen any blankets or quilts around the shack; the bed didn't even have any linens. Between that and the lack of running water, Snow was convinced that whoever owned this shack hadn't opened it back up for the season yet.
Which, of course, really put a crimp in their trapped-inside-this-damn-shack readiness.
The adults would have to sleep in shifts, with one or two of them watching over the others for signs of hypothermia.
When she voiced the plan to Charming, he nodded. "One thing we don't do, though, is tell her," he said, nodding in Emma's direction. "Not until she's rested a bit. She'll be wanting to magic us some blankets next, and I don't want her getting even more sick over this."
"Agreed."
Not that either of them believed they could stop Emma if she got it into her head that they needed blankets. It was just better that they wait until she'd built her strength back up before she attempted anything of the sort again.
A soft cheer erupted from the other side of the room. Snow and Charming looked over to find Henry beaming at Hook. Snow had no idea what had happened, but Henry was clearly thrilled about whatever it was and Hook was just as clearly having fun with the boy.
All afternoon long, Hook had been doing a wonderful job not only keeping Henry occupied but also helping with and caring for Emma. And all of them, really. He'd gone out with Charming to search for a patch for the window without a second thought, he'd patched the window as best he could, he'd been right there whenever any of them had needed him.
"He's been wonderful today," Snow murmured, nodding in Hook's direction, her surprise evident in her voice. "With all of us, but especially with Emma."
Charming followed her gaze to the pirate and smiled softly. "He has, hasn't he? Love can do some amazing things."
That got Snow's attention. She turned her head, looking sharply at her husband. "Do you know something I don't?"
"Not officially," Charming said, "and I highly doubt you don't know it. He loves our daughter, Snow."
Charming was right; she had known. Or at least she'd suspected. It was clear in the way Hook looked at Emma, like she was the only person in the world. It was clear in the way he looked out for her. He'd found her in New York, he'd helped her and kept her safe through their time travel adventure. He protected her, he fought for her. He'd been right there beside her through her magic-induced illness today.
He'd helped her family more times than Snow was able to count.
And Snow could also see it in the way Emma looked at him. The way she got lost in his eyes, the way she moved into his space. It was the same way Snow acted around Charming.
"As long as she's happy," Snow murmured, smiling at her husband. "That's all that matters." Charming smiled back at her. The smile transformed into a sardonic grin when she added, "And of course it goes without saying that in the rare event he does end up breaking her heart, hers will be the last one he ever breaks."
"Agreed," Charming replied with a chuckle.
Emma stirred in her sleep then, her nose scrunching and brow furrowing. Snow and Charming froze, afraid their conversation had disturbed her, only to release simultaneous breaths of amused relief when she simply turned onto her side facing Snow, unconsciously draped her arm across her mother's knees as she stretched out, and settled back into sleep.
Snow couldn't stop herself from once again lightly taking her baby girl's hand. Emma tightened her fingers around Snow's for a brief moment, unconsciously acknowledging the comfort. Tears brimmed in Snow's eyes, tears for the time she'd missed with her daughter and tears for the lonely, loveless life Emma had lived prior to her arrival in Storybrooke.
"Despite all her outward toughness," she whispered to her husband, "there's a lonely little girl somewhere inside her who simply wants to be loved. She just didn't know how to allow it. She's been so hurt, Charming. So hurt, so disappointed, so unloved … she's been afraid to let herself believe we were different."
Charming was blinking back sudden tears now, too. "She told you things. During the curse, I mean."
"Not much, but yes. Part of me wishes she hadn't, because knowing what she endured here… it's almost too much to bear. But a larger part of me is grateful that she'd trusted me with even that much, and all of me just wants to hold her until the rest of her walls come down." She looked deep into her husband's eyes, wanting him to be aware of how serious she was. "She's made the first step, Charming. She's let us in. The rest is up to us."
"Well, if the rest is protecting her with everything I have and loving her with all my heart and soul, I'm fully on board," Charming told her, just as seriously. "This is how we show her, Snow. Sitting here, being there for her, being a constant presence for her … this is how we let her know we're different. Yes, she'll probably be embarrassed when she wakes to find us still sitting here with her, but that little girl inside her who'd never had anyone sit with her while she was sick? She'll have had her dreams come true."
"This is how we help her heal," Snow murmured.
"Exactly. Love is strength, remember? You told me that our baby girl taught you that."
"Yes," Snow said, smiling down at her sleeping daughter. "She certainly did."
