Portland, Oregon
August 1st, 2001

She didn't expect things to have taken off so fast. She didn't expect to be in this deep after only a summer. It was very likely that she could call this love, because who really knew what that was anyways? It felt right. It felt good, and that was the only definition she needed.

Sometimes he'd get lost, seemingly worlds away though he was right next to her. Especially when he drew. Sometimes, in conversation he'd do that thing. When he ducked his head and turned his eyes away, almost uncertainly. It set worry in her stomach, but he'd quell it later when he had her pressed against the cool yellow metal of the back door of her bug, kissing her goodnight. So she went along with it, a quiet itch in the back of her mind always reminding her of the precipice this rested on. As if in an instant some spell would break and it would fall away before her eyes.

She could live in this moment. She didn't know how long she'd have it.

-O-O-O-

October 3rd, 2001

It wasn't long before the forest was seen for the trees. When suddenly the air in the little bathroom seemed too thin, and she had to count to twenty before she could draw another breath. It wasn't long before the scope focused and everything her mother had been saying echoed in her mind.

The stick in her hands, with its mocking pink lines, as if this was happy. And wanted. And ok. As if cute colors would lend something to relieve the pressure of the weight on her chest.

She tossed it away, poking it deep into the bottom of the trashcan. What the hell was going to happen now?

-O-O-O-

October 22nd, 2001

She was relieved when he suggested they needed to talk before she could ask.

"I have some things I really need to tell you." He poked into his paper bag of French fries, leaned into the driver's seat. She let him drive now and then, though she was better with the stick.

"I haven't been entirely honest," he admitted. She looked out over the Portland horizon, remembering the first time she'd driven him up here to her spot, when things had been simpler and new.

"OK," she breathes, ducking deeper into her hoodie. She wondered when it was going to be too small for her.

"I'm not twenty. I'm…twenty-three."

The first swirls of nausea start in her belly.

"I just wanted to tell you that, and say I'm sorry. Because I knew it was never a good idea. I knew what I was getting myself into. Hell, you had a school uniform on. I could've guessed… I just…I know it was awful. And if it ends things, I understand."

Her mind swam, and it wasn't until she looked back up to the lights of the city that she realized she was crying. Tears blurred the buildings into long glowing fingers, reaching into the dark sky.

"Emma?"

His voice was quiet, even worried. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"I'm pregnant."

She knew his short intake of breath was silent, but it rattled the car just the same. She waited for him to say something, to apologize. To curse, to tell her he wasn't able to handle this. But he was silent, so she spoke first.

"You manipulated me."

"That wasn't my intention."

"But you did."

"Emma, don't try and act like you're the innocent one here." He said it, but to her it sounded like a snarl. It took a few seconds for her to even raise her hands to her face to wipe her cheeks.

"I trusted you," she whispered.

"Trust isn't fool-proof," he said.

Her eyes screwed shut, and she tried to even out her breathing, swallowing back a sob growing in her chest. "I hate you."

"Don't lie to yourself, Princess."

Without direction, he put the car in drive and sped back into the city. She didn't speak, didn't even look at him. Embarrassment and fear and hatred all stirred within her in a haze she couldn't distinguish. She felt a pang of nausea, and not the kind she would've expected. She nearly asked him to pull over, but decided on avoiding conversation. By the time they'd made it to her street, she'd steadied herself enough to duck out of the car without shaking hands.

The keys were sharp and cold in her palm when he tossed them to her, turning to walk away down the sidewalk with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

-O-O-O-

Something just didn't feel right. This wasn't an affect of her usual restlessness. The house was dark and silent, but Snow could feel something off in the atmosphere. She sat up, pushing away her blankets and shuffling into the kitchen. Cocoa took just minutes to make, and it should've been comforting. But it just helped her to worry more.

Upstairs, she checked Emma's room. The door creaked open, louder than she would've liked. She wasn't even sure if she'd made it home yet. Snow had given up weeks ago on waiting up for her. But tonight, Emma was curled up over the blankets, shoes still on.

Snow sighed, stepping into the room. It upset her, certainly, that Emma stayed out til all hours now without any notice. They barely spoke anymore, and that killed her more than not knowing where her daughter was or what she was doing.

She sat on the edge of the bed, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind Emma's ear. She pulled away when she noticed Emma's eyes open.

"Oh. I'm sorry to wake you," she said. "I was just checking on you."

"Its ok." Emma sniffled, hugging a pillow closer to her chest.

"Emma?" She combed her fingers through her hair again. "What's wrong?"

Emma just shook her head.

Something had happened with Neal. She could sense it. Instantly, her mind began to think of ways she could track him down, maim him at the very least. But she supposed she had actually be realistic about this. First.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Emma shook her head again, shifting so she was sitting up. "No."

"Do you want to be alone?" Snow's hands fell into her lap.

Again, Emma shook her head, the tracks of tears on her cheeks illuminated in the dim light. "No."

She managed to coax Emma into pajamas and the both of them crawled into the big king bed in Snow's room. Before Snow finally relaxed and fell back to sleep, she looked over to Emma's silhouette, hands tucked up under her chin and knees tucked up to her stomach, finally safe and home.

-O-O-O-

October 23rd, 2001

She touched a hand to her daughter's shoulder, brushing away a tangle of blonde hair and coaxing her awake in the grey-blue hours of morning.

"Happy birthday," she sing-songed quietly when she stirred, twisting and stretching. She didn't miss her grin, even if it was tiny and flickered away as fast as it had come.

A single cupcake was set on the nightstand, with a single yellow candle poked into the center. It was enough to earn even the driest of chuckles from Emma as she sat up in bed, pushing away the quilt.

"Thanks, Mom."

"Make a wish," she insisted.

Emma was suddenly somber, and Snow saw a glimpse of the anxiousness she'd seen in her eyes the night before. She felt her chest clench in worry all over again, and watched Emma blink a few times, seemingly thinking hard about what to wish. Or maybe just wishing hard enough to actually will it. She blew out the candle, if only for her mother's sake, and sat up, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Mom," she said after a moment, her voice gravely. "I really have to talk to you."

"Alright," she said, trying to sound inviting, not wanting to think too long about what her daughter was about to say.

"I…" Emma physically shuddered, shoulders arching up. "I found out that I'm…having a baby."

She didn't like the coldness in Emma's voice when she said it.

Emma continued, shrugging. "I made a really bad mistake, and…" She blinked, a rogue tear snaking its way down her cheek. "I'm sorry to tell you like this, I…"

Snow didn't have to wait to hear more. She reached up, stroking a hand over Emma's hair, settling her palm reassuringly against her shoulder.

"Neal and I talked about it last night, and he…he doesn't want to be around." Emma looked down at her lap, fighting against a sob growing in her chest.

Snow found her hands, resting on her knees, and gripping them in her own. "Well, I will be."

Emma glanced up, disbelieving. "What?"

"I'm going to be here, Emma. Always. There is never a question. This is…big, and scary. And you should be nervous about telling me, but you shouldn't have been nervous about how I would react."

Emma's breath shuddered. "I just…thought I completely ruined everything. I've been so…" Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. "I've been so awful to you. I was just waiting for you to say 'I told you so.'"

"Oh, Emma. No." She took a lock of Emma's hair in her fingers. "I wouldn't."

"I'm sorry..."

"Shhh…" Snow pulled her in, sitting on the bed beside her and cradling her close. "We're gonna figure this out. And I'll be here with you the whole way."

It was a moment before Emma's responded, her arms coming around her mother's shoulders. It was the first hug she'd had from her in so long, and it seemed that the past few months just disappeared from memory now. It didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was Emma was here, and open and honest. Anything else, they'd work out together.

"Thanks, Mom," she whispered against her shoulder. "I love you."

-O-O-O-

November 1st, 2001

She clutched the little slip of paper between her hands, trying to memorize the swirls of static-y lines and decipher the blob-like shape the doctor had pointed out as the baby. She looked up to her mother, smiling serenely, eyes on the road as they drove home from the first doctor visit of many.

"Mom," she said, getting her attention. She hummed in reply when she glanced over to her and back to the road.

Tears sprang to her eyes before she could help it, and she wiped at them quickly, not wanting to risk staining the sonogram, or her mother noticing. But of course it was too late for that.

"Oh, Emma. Is everything ok?" She reached out, touching a hand to her arm.

She nodded, wiping at her eyes. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm just…" She breathed, looking back down at the little paper. The first little picture of the thing that was the size of a plum; that would be the size of an orange by the time she was able to find out the sex. She exhaled again. "I'm just…"

"Overwhelmed? Anxious? Excited?" her mother supplied.

Emma laughed thinly. "Yeah. All of the above."