Thank you all for the reviews you left last week I hope you enjoy this chapter too. As always leave me a review of what you want to see more of or you want me to show and I'll try to write it.

Hope y'all enjoy the Charming centric episode tonight (it's been like 86 years since we last had one) I'll be watching it tomorrow when I can watch it online (then again on Netflix when it's officially out in England on Wednesday).

Here's some mama!Snow and daddy!Charming, and some really, really scared Emma.

See you next week!

"Oh, Emma." Her voice broke in conjunction with her heart as she caught sight of what her daughter had been trying to hide.

The first thing which had caught Mary Margaret's eye was the deep purple and red bruise which took over most of Emma's upper left arm. It looked almost as though it was Halloween makeup or paint against Emma's pale skin, and was in the shape of a hand. Someone had clearly taken hold of Emma's arm so tightly that the blood vessels had burst and mimicked the shape.

Her eyes drifted to the scratches and small bruises which scattered Emma's upper arms and torso, ones which would have been so perfectly hidden from view by a simple long sleeved shirt, clearly not self-inflicted and definitely not accidental. Nor were three cigarette burns high up on her right arm.
She noticed that Emma's right forearm was bruised looking in colour and swollen, and remembered that Emma had been mainly using her left arm to hold utensils while eating, but she hadn't really thought about why, she figured Emma had just used her left hand more as a child she had once told her she was pretty able to write with both hands so Mary Margaret hadn't really thought it was a big deal. The last thing she spotted was Emma's back, which hosted an angry red, raised stripe which had only recently closed up.

Mary Margaret was disgusted that anyone could treat anyone in such a way, let alone a child, and especially her daughter. While she was barely older than a toddler and the same size as one.

Emma was sat frozen in the bath, she didn't even want to bat an eyelid, she just wanted to run away but she knew at that moment she couldn't; she doubted she'd be able to climb out of the bath by herself let alone somehow get dressed and run out of the bathroom and out of the loft somehow dodging her parents.

After a minute of silence after she had first caught sight of Emma's injuries, Mary Margaret realised that her daughter was sat in a still silence, clearly terrified of what would happen next. "Emma," she said as softly as she could, "it's okay, baby." She noticed that Emma was panicking and tried to stay calm herself, she looked into Emma's eyes, but Emma avoided her gaze.

"I…I…I…" She spluttered a few times. "….You weren't meant to see that…" She eventually managed to squeak out as she tried to stop herself from having a panic attack.

"No, Emma, it's okay. This wasn't your fault." Mary Margaret saw that Emma was going back into the trace like state she had been in before. "This was never your fault." She promised as she fought hard to not cry. She slowly reached her hand out and brushed a tear from Emma's cheek and felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment when Emma didn't flinch or move away.

Emma felt as though she was falling inside, like she was slipping down a darkened and never ending pit, and she had no way of stopping it. She could see the trepidation on Mary Margaret's face as a tear was brushed from her cheek.
And she hated it.
She had never felt so scared, or young, she just wanted her mom to hug her and promise that everything would be okay. But she had already lived it, she wasn't in danger of getting hurt again, yet the fear was still there.
She hadn't wanted her parents to see her like this, to know what had happened, to see how broken she was.

Mary Margaret could see that Emma was spiralling, it hadn't even been five minutes since she had found out about the injuries Emma had been hiding, but Emma looked younger than she had and more afraid. Mary Margaret wanted to just scoop her up and let her know that everything would be okay, she'd do anything to make her smile right now. But she knew she had to be a little more practical.

"Let's get you cleaned up." She told her with a kind smile, she grabbed a washcloth and her own strawberry scented shower gel and carefully bathed Emma, as gently as she would Neal. She was a little surprised that Emma didn't protest, she just sat quietly, and luckily slightly more relaxed than she had been. Mary Margaret made sure to be extra careful around the cuts and the bruises but she still saw Emma wincing a little.
"Emma, how…?" She trailed off not quite sure how to ask the question. "Did you have those when you first changed back, or did they just appear?"

"Since I changed." Emma bit her lip not sure what her mother would think of her hiding it from her. When Mary Margaret didn't say anything Emma carried on talking. "I… I was in some bad foster homes when I was little."
She spared a glance at Mary Margaret's face and saw she was looking at her sympathetically and wanting to know more, Emma wasn't sure what she had expected, but it wasn't that.

She watched as Mary Margaret carefully washed the small scratches and bruises, Emma winced at the sight of the cigarette burns alongside them. "That was from my last one." She explained slightly braver than before, but her voice had none of its normal life, it was still tinged with fear and sounded like the small child she looked like. "I left some toys out." She could still feel her foster mother's fingernails digging into her skin as she shouted at her.

Mary Margaret was surprised that Emma was freely offering the information and listened intently despite the fact the words were breaking her heart. "Is that when you hurt your arm too?" She carefully took the swollen arm into her arm and examined it with a sympathetic wince.

Emma nodded her head and tried not to pull her arm out of her mother's hands, despite the care she was putting in it still hurt like hell.

"I'm pretty sure it's broken, do you remember if that's what doctor said when you were little?" She asked figuring the memory might have stuck out for Emma.

"I wouldn't know… didn't get it looked at until the next time it got hurt." Emma shrugged though her arm did hurt a lot.

Mary Margaret frowned, how could no one notice that a five year old had broken their arm? But she nodded at Emma, still frowning, to show she had heard.
"Honey, we'll need to get that checked out." She told her in a kind yet firm voice. Emma gave her a sad look but didn't argue, which was a rather worrying thing on Emma.
She washed Emma's back wondering if she ever had someone actually bathe her, and if so how long that had lasted for, she was careful a she washed where the raised line was.
It looked like Emma had been whipped by something, which she probably had.

"How old were you?" She asked not wanting to put it into words but was sure Emma knew what she meant. She took the opportunity of Emma's turned back to wipe some tears from her eyes as she tried to put on a brave face.

"Four." Emma's voice was just above a whisper as she looked down at her sore arm.

"Oh baby." Mary Margaret breathed out. "I'm so, so, sorry."

Emma shook her head. "Not your fault." She muttered. This was another reason she hadn't wanted her parents to find out, she didn't want them to blame themselves.

Mary Margaret suppressed a sigh, she still felt guilty, though she would never in her worst nightmare have though this was the life she was condemning her to. But what would the alternative have been? No Emma at all?
"I'm sorry that this happened to you. It was wrong, and evil, and you definitely did not deserve it." She corrected, and by the look on Emma's face, no one had said that to her before.

Emma bit her lip to stop it trembling, but she couldn't stop the tears in her eyes, she just wanted to go to bed and every to be fixed when she woke up… but no, that would never happen, and she had to go on a fun trip to the hospital with her mother. She would argue that it could wait until morning but she knew her mother would never go for that.

But the worst was yet to come. It was bad enough Mary Margaret knowing, now David had to know too, somehow that seemed worse. Emma had known Mary Margaret a lot longer, when she was still someone who would push everyone away, and who would run. When she had met her dad properly, he saw her as strong and independent, she didn't want him to think she was weak.

"Can you climb out by yourself?" She asked hoping that Emma wasn't going to be stubborn, for once, the bath was fairly deep and she knew that even if Emma was the size of an average five year old she would struggle greatly, but the height and state she was in currently made it extremely difficult not to mention dangerous. "I can help you."

Emma looked up at the side of the bath tub and even she had to admit that it was too high to try climb up. Plus she didn't care if her mother to help her, any embarrassment she had felt earlier had faded into hopeless fear of how her parents would now treat her, not to mention having to go to the hospital. Plus what would they think about her wetting the bed, she was an adult for Christ sake! She didn't bother to move so Mary Margaret picked her up out of the bath, clearly being careful of Emma's injuries, and wrapped Emma in a fluffy towel. Emma just wished she could curl up right then and there and go to sleep, and when she woke up hopefully she and everyone else will have forgotten about this whole thing.

The bath towel swamped her small frame, Mary Margaret carefully made sure it wasn't hurting her wrist or back as much as possible as she patted her dry, and she absentmindedly made a mental note to get her a smaller towel, one closer to Neal's size ones. She grabbed the clothes David had brought down for Emma. She kept the towel most wrapped around Emma as she carefully put Emma's vest on her to try keep her feeling warmer with her fever. Emma was sat quietly letting her dress her, Mary Margaret had a ghost of a smile that couldn't quite make its way to the surface when she realised that David had chosen some dinosaur pyjamas for Emma to wear, he had clearly hoped that they might make her smile a little knowing how much they both liked watching the Jurassic Park films. Sadly David was a little out of his depth with cheering her up just now.

*OUAT*

"Why don't you wait on the couch while I let David know that we're going to go and get your arm checked out?" Mary Margaret suggested as they left the bathroom and heard the sound of the television on low. They both knew that that wasn't all what David and Mary Margaret would be talking about, but neither said anything, so Mary Margaret led her over to the living room.

"Hey, you two." David smiled at them as they came around the corner. He had turned the television on as he was waiting for them but he hadn't been paying much attention to it. He smiled at the sight of the white pyjamas on Emma, he could see the pastel outlines of the dinosaur print which covered the cuffed long sleeve top and pants, he remembered Emma falling asleep cuddled up to him the night before and his smile widened, until his eyes drifted to Emma's face.

He examined Emma's face from where he sat, he had expected her to look slightly better, however he saw she was still in the same state she had been in earlier…. but there was something different on her face too. David didn't have an opportunity to figure out what it was by himself.

As soon as Mary Margaret placed Emma onto the couch, she shared a look with David and nodded her head towards the kitchen, then walked off, expecting him to follow.

David stood up to follow, but stopped for a second to place a blanket over Emma who looked as though she was fighting sleep, or as though she had just had a nightmare or something similar.
He wanted to talk to her, to assure her that everything was okay, and that no one was mad at her nor did they think any differently of her for having an accident, whether it was a onetime thing or an ongoing thing, they'd help her. But he could tell that something was up and Mary Margaret really needed to talk to him.
He sent Emma a smile, and although she seemed to be trying to avoid his eyes, he was sure that she saw it. "Love you, kiddo." He told her as he walked to the kitchen.

Emma looked at his retreating back with her mouth hanging open, she wasn't used to people not being angry at her for wetting the bed, she almost wanted to run after him and pull him back and stop him from going and talking to Mary Margaret. To stop him finding out how broken she was.

But she was frozen to the seat, and it would have never worked anyway.

*OUAT*

When he got to the kitchen he saw Mary Margaret toying with a couple of mugs nervously. He walked to her side and put his hands on hers, stopping her fiddling when he did so, he gently squeezed her fingers to get her to look up at him. "Mary Margaret," he was frowning a little as he tried to read her face, "what's going on?"

Mary Margaret bit her lip, since going into the kitchen she had been trying to figure out a way to tell David what had happened to Emma, but she also needed to make sure Emma wouldn't misinterpret his reaction.

"Before I say anything you have to promise not to be mad."

"Nothing good ever comes when you start telling me something with that sentence." His eyebrows furrowed.

"David." She said seriously, her eyes burning into him. "I mean it, I need you to promise, and I need you to stay calm."

"Okay." His frown deepened.

"Emma…" She stopped and sighed. "Growing up, Emma didn't have the best foster homes."

"We already knew that, she's always hinted, and we saw the list from Whale; it's not hard to figure out." He continued to frown as she was quiet for a little longer. "Mary, what's going on?"

Mary Margaret sighed again. "When I was helping Emma bathe I noticed she has quite a few, recent, injuries." She kept her voice as quiet as it had been not wanting to worry Emma.

"WH-" David started to erupt, he didn't want to think of Emma as being injured at all, let alone right now, and how had they not noticed? His wife quickly slapped her hand over his mouth and shot him a severe look. His eyes flickered towards the living room.

"David." Mary Margaret hissed, though she knew he had realised that he should be quieter for Emma's sake, she wanted to make sure he understood that Emma wasn't merely embarrassed. "She's terrified. We've got to act calmly." She took her hand off of his mouth and saw him mentally counting to ten. "I know how you're feeling, I want to go hunt down these… these bastards, for what they did to Emma with my bow and arrow, consequences be damned." David took hold of her hand and squeezed it. "But we can't. But we do need to be there for Emma, and right now she's petrified and seems to think that this is somehow her fault."

"It's not." David interrupted quickly, his voice calmer than it had been, for Emma's sake.

"I know that, and you know that, but Emma… I think at some level she knows but she's…" She shrugged unsure of what to say, she looked around the loft as though it would reveal the words magically.

"Regressed." David supplied and Mary Margaret's head turned back to face him as they stood close together. "It's like she's gone back to how she was after it had happened."

"To some degree, yes." She nodded.

There was silence for a couple of minutes as the two went through their thoughts. "What are her injuries?" David eventually asked, his voice was barely above a whisper, and daring as though he wasn't sure if he wanted to know or not.

She squeezed his hand as he had to her only a few minutes before. "… Cuts… bruises…All over her, but they made sure that it was unlikely that anyone would find out… There's a couple of cigarette burns." David's look of horror matched the acidic taste in the back of her throat. "There was… there's a mark, down her back, she… she had been hit, whipped by something, it looks like a belt mark… it looks pretty sore… she was only four." Her voice was breaking and tears streamed down her face, she was clearly only keeping it together for Emma.

David gasped as quietly as he could but thought back to earlier on that day when he had been rubbing her back to keep her calm, he should have noticed… but then he remembered the 'crease' in her pyjamas his hand kept brushing… he had noticed, he thought with guilt, but he hadn't thought anything of it. "She's just a baby." He whispered, his body folding in on itself, his forehead rested against the top of his wife's head. They stayed like that for a few beats before Mary Margaret spoke again.

"I think she's broken her arm too." She leant back a little so she could look him in the eyes. She knew she still had something to tell him, and that it would be hard for David to accept. "It's swollen and bruised though Emma said it was never checked out… well until she broke it again."

"She needs to get it checked out, it probably really hurts," David said protectively, "it doesn't matter if it'll affect she ages up again or not." He added already sensing how Emma would usually argue, but then he began to wonder if she would argue at all, he had seen how she had acted on the couch. She was terrified, not of them, he didn't think, but in general. There was something so unlike Emma's usual behaviour, and yet so Emma-like in it, as though it was lying hidden and in wait, and it was only now David remembered about it.

"I agree." She placed her hand on his chest. "I'm going to take her now." She stressed the 'I' in the sentence.

"I want to go Mary Margaret," David almost pleaded, "I don't want her to think that I don't want to be there or that I'm abandoning her."

"She doesn't think that and she never will." She promised. "But Neal is asleep here and I don't want to have two kids sick, it's cold out there, not to mention hanging around a hospital is not the best place for a baby."

David bit his lip then sighed and nodded his head. She did have a point, even if he didn't want to let Emma out of his sight.

Mary Margaret pressed a kiss to the corner of his lip, she smiled as he turned his head to capture it properly. "I'm going to get her something to wear on her feet and things we'll need. Why don't you sit with Em?" She suggested knowing how hopeless he was probably feeling. He would have gone to see Emma anyway, she was sure, but he would have been worried he would mess up somehow if he hadn't been encouraged.

*OUAT*

Much like her father Emma didn't pay much attention to the television as she sat there, instead she tried her hardest to keep her breathing steady. She had listened waiting for the inevitable shouting but not came, or at least none that she heard. Mostly she just spaced out caught up in old memories.

Eventually she saw Mary Margaret go up the stairs. Emma sat waiting to see her father appear, but the longer it took the more anxious and doubting she got, when he eventually appeared in her line of view he headed straight to his bedroom.

Emma took in a deep, shuddering breath as she tried not to cry. Her worst assumptions had come, David had thought what Emma had feared her would, and couldn't even stand to be in the same room as her. She bit her lip and stared down at the print on her pyjamas and bit her lip, a few seconds away from crying.

David popped into his bedroom for a minutes. He knew that Emma was feeling cold from the flu and was in desperate need of comfort, yet he wouldn't be able to be there for her, but he had remembered finding his shirt in with Emma's things when he had been doing the laundry so decided it was worth a shot. Plus, it wouldn't be restricting on her arm.

He grabbed one of his red brushed cotton ones as quickly as he could then walked back to join Emma. He noticed that her head was down but looked up when she heard his footsteps, she seemed to be surprised he was there but then she looked back down just as quickly.

David placed the shirt down on the chair beside her then crouched down, careful not to be too close and encroach her personal space, but close enough to try comfort her and to be able to see her face. When David spoke, his voice was soft, as though he was talking to a spooked animal or younger child. "Hey Em."

Emma could see the caring look on his face as she avoided looking in his eyes, but even if she hadn't been she could hear the smile in his voice, she glanced at the chair beside her and was surprised to see he had put one of his plaid shirts down next to her, she hadn't thought that he would have just have grabbed something from his room…

She slowly looked up at him, biting her lip nervously, he looked at her proudly for looking up as though she had just completed a marathon or something. She examined his face for a minute, there was no disappointment or anger on it, just concern and love. Like the usual look he had for her but the concern was dialled so far up he had a hard time trying to hide it.
"Hey." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Your mother told me about your arm," he didn't mention she had told him about everything else too Emma would have already assumed that, "can I take a look at it?"

Emma looked down at her arm then somewhat reluctantly held it out to him, it had been hurting a lot, and had only hurt more since trying to change her bed covers. She watched as he carefully rolled up the pyjama sleeve and a sympathetic wince crossed his face.

David turned it as carefully as he could, he could easily tell it was swollen and deeply bruised, there was almost no chance that it was just a sprain. "Can you wiggle your fingers as much as you can?" he asked. He may not have had medical training in this realm, but he had been in battle enough times back home to be able to recognise different injuries.

"Well, it doesn't need to be amputated," he joked and saw a flicker of a smile cross her face, "but it will need to be looked at."

Emma frowned, she had been hoping by some miracle that David would tell her it just needed some ice on it, she could also tell by the way that he was talking he wouldn't be joining Mary Margaret in taking her to the hospital. She understood why but for some reason she wanted both of them with her. "You sure?" she asked in a smaller voice than she had intended.

"Sorry kiddo." He nodded. "But your mom will be with you, and the doctor will take a look at it and your other injuries and fix them all up." He thought it was best to let her know that the doctor would be looking at the other injuries so it wasn't a shock for her. "I'm sorry you've gotten so hurt." He saw her look away a little and shiver. "I know Mary Margaret's already said this, but it wasn't your fault, I'm sorry if you felt like we couldn't tell us."

Emma fidgeted uncomfortably. "It wasn't that I didn't want to…" She said in the same small voice, she felt a little guilty that she hadn't told David and Mary Margaret now, but her silence had been so instinctual she hadn't even thought about fighting it.

"It's okay Emma." He told her he hadn't meant to make her feel bad or like it was her fault. "I understand. I think both your mother and I would have acted the same way if we were in your positon. You didn't want to worry us." He remembered feeling the same way in Neverland. "Just promise that you'll tell one of us if you get hurt or something like that again? You don't have to run or hide in this family."

Emma gave a small nod and rubbed her eye sleepily with her uninjured left hand. "I promise." She told him through a yawn.

"I'm really sorry that I can't come with you." He made sure to look in her eyes so she could tell he wasn't lying. He really was sorry, he supposed this was what it would have been like having two kids in this realm, they had to share the duties.
But Mary Margaret had already seen Emma's injuries, she would be able to tell the doctor what had happened, what Emma had told her, so that Emma wouldn't have to go through it again.

"Thanks." She mumbled with a small smile on her face, she had to admit she was touched, and could see that he was living up to his nickname. "But you have a newborn baby, you should probably get some sleep while you can."

"I'll sleep when I have both of my kids back under this roof." He told her in a kind but firm voice, he could see her relaxing a little the more she realised he wasn't mad at her, though he hated that it was her automatic assumption. "That includes having my daughter home and safe." He gently rolled down the sleeve of the pyjama top, then grabbed the shirt he had brought in, he noticed that the smile on Emma's face stayed as he helped her into it. It looked like a dress on her, like a toddler playing dress up, but it seemed to make her more comfortable so it didn't really matter.

"Thanks." She told him again in a quiet voice.

She saw Mary Margaret appear on the stairs and walk over to her and David with a pair of child's sneakers and a pair of socks in her hands. Her mother sent her a smile as David took the shoes, the two shared a look, but Emma couldn't figure out what it meant.

David slipped the shoes on her over the socks and did up the zip. Emma couldn't help but wish that David were coming too, but she knew it wouldn't be fair on Neal to be woken up and taken to a loud hospital in the middle of the night.

She wiggled her toes inside of the shoes surprised that the shoes which had looked so small when her parents had held them had plenty of room for her.

David finally let go of the shoe he had slipped onto Emma and picked her up from the couch, he knew he wouldn't be able to take her to the hospital, or even to the car as Neal was still in his crib, but he could carry her to the top of the stairs. He could feel her shaking a little from the cold but knew Mary Margaret had blankets she'd cover Emma with in her car.

He was a little surprised when Emma led her head on his shoulder, though he probably shouldn't have been she had been rather pliant since she had woken up, more childlike. Though he was fairly certain that it was because of the accident she had and the revelation of her past rather than her deaging. Her hot head burnt through his t-shirt and he shared a look with Mary Margaret to let her know, her eyes flickered to the clock letting him know that Emma could have more medicine in an hour.

He slowly walked over to the door with Emma and Mary Margaret, when they got to the landing outside of the loft he pressed a kiss to the top of Emma's head then carefully passed her over to Mary Margaret.

"I'll see you soon." He promised when he saw her big green eyes staring at him with fear in them.

*OUAT*

Mary Margaret was surprised at how quiet Emma had been during the drive, she hadn't even protested when she was strapped into the carseat and blankets were wrapped around her, when Mary Margaret finally parked at the hospital and grabbed her bag she then picked Emma up from the back still wrapped in one of the blankets. She could see that Emma was looking scared again but was even more scared than she had before, bar when Mary Margaret had first seen the injuries on her.

"It's going to be okay Emma." She promised as she walked towards the E.R, she checked Emma in at the desk and was shown straight through to see the nurse as David had rung ahead to explain everything. A nurse examined Emma's injuries, including her back, Mary Margaret winced when she saw them under the cruel fluorescent lighting. She felt Emma's small hand wrap around her own and hold tight, Mary Margaret worried at first that Emma was in pain, but when she looked at her face she saw that she was scared, she brushed her thumb back and forth across Emma's knuckles until the nurse finished so she Emma put her top back on over her vest. The nurse told them that Whale would be in to examine Emma's arm.

Emma continued to look scared as she sat on the bed, she didn't like hospitals at the best of times, so as the size of a small child that fear and distaste only increased. She focused on her mom as she tried to avoid moving while the nurse examined her injuries then Whale examined her arm. She wanted to move back from them, hell she wanted to curl up to her mom, or to go home, but she fought the urge. She internally berated herself as Whale asked questions and Emma just let her mother answer, like a child her internal voice had sneered, but that wasn't enough to make her start to talk.

*OUAT*

A couple of hours later David opened the door to Mary Margaret and Emma. Emma was half asleep in Mary Margaret's arms and David carefully moved her to his own. On her right arm was a yellow cast which Emma's pyjama top was pulled down over, and over that was his shirt, he started to walk over to his and Mary Margaret's room with Emma still in his arms.

Mary Margaret had called him as she had sat outside of the x-ray room, going as far as she was allowed to, and filled him in that Whale was sure it was broken but Emma was getting an x-ray to be on the safe case. He had also given them some more children's medicine to be taken with the one Emma was already taking to keep her fever down, and some cream for Emma's back.

"You're still up." Emma stated with a yawn, David had sat with her on his lap on the side of the bed as he carefully took her shoes off.

David smiled down at her, it was barely midnight but apparently to Emma it seemed much later. "Of course, I told you I would be. But I think it's time for you to rest now." He placed her down on the bed next to where he had placed her blanket earlier. Mary Margaret had gotten changed quickly and entered the bedroom again, sliding into her normal place in the bed. He could see that she wasn't going to be letting Emma out of her sight anytime soon. David leant down and pressed a kiss to the top of Emma's head, then started to grab a blanket and pillow to sleep on the couch, he didn't want to push Emma too far, and wasn't sure what might make her feel scared, he didn't want to be the cause of that.

"Dad?" Emma squinted in the low light as she watched what David was doing. She moved closer to Mary Margaret so there was still plenty of space left in the bed. "Where are you going?"

David looked down, a little surprised at Emma's small voice and her face which looked like she would cry if he left the room. Clearly she had gone through a lot and there was a lot the family all would need to talk about the next day, if the look on his wife's face was anything to go by. But for now he placed the blanket and pillow he had picked up back onto the bed. "Nowhere kiddo." He promised then climbed into the bed with Emma cuddled up between him and his wife.