I'm simply overwhelmed at the response of the last chapter! Thank you all so much, and again, really sorry for the delay of updates. Things at work are incredibly busy and I'm super tired by the time I get home. I know, I know, you're all shaking your heads at me whilst saying, 'excuses, excuses...' ;) Anyway, please enjoy this chapter! Warning in advance for a lot of angst.

(And guess what? Just over two weeks until Once Upon a Time is back! EEP!)

Chapter 14 - Unwell

And I know;

I know they've all been talking about me,

I can hear them whisper

And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me.

Out of all the hours thinking

Somehow, I've lost my mind.

But I'm not crazy,

I'm just a little unwell -

I know right now you can't tell.

But stay a while and maybe then you'll see a different side of me.

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired -

I know, right now you don't care.

But soon enough you're gonna think of me -

And how I used to be.

Emma pulled her locker open with a slight grunt and dropped the two books she was carrying inside of it.

Halfway through another day.

It was a few days later; a Friday, thankfully, and Emma was back at school. Her ribs didn't feel any better, but she figured she'd better go back to school before she chickened out even further. So far, things weren't too bad. Sure, there was quite a bit of school work to catch up on, but she hadn't seen Neal or any of his senior friends, which was a good thing.

She slid a few books to the side of her locker, trying to find the textbooks for her last class, and spotted something red out of the corner of her eye.

Her little, red notebook.

It was just sitting there, forgotten and abandoned-looking. Emma's eyebrows furrowed, the slight feeling of angst filling up inside her. How could she have forgotten her notebook? It was one of the few things that she had of her birth parents. Angry at herself for being too preoccupied to think about her birth parents, she snatched it up and shoved it into her backpack. She grabbed the rest of her books and placed them into her backpack beside the notebook, and then shut her locker door. She quickly swivelled around to walk to her next class, but gasped as she rammed into someone.

"Watch where you're going!"

Emma's eyes widened.

Crap. She knew that voice.

She glanced up slightly to peer into the person's face. It was the senior that bullied her. The one who had been harassing her when Mary Margaret had saved her that day. The one who she had punched.

He sneered down at her, crossing his arms. "Well, well. Look who's back. Swan."

Emma rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Emma eyed him doubtfully and tried to side-step him. He moved to block her path. She took a step the other way and he followed.

"What do you want?" She repeated in a growl.

He stepped forward, forcing Emma to take a step back. Her back hit the lockers and Emma felt panic start to grow. She forced it down, trying to keep up a brave front.

"I just want you to know that I'll be watching you," He said, his voice holding the slightest bit of malice.

Emma felt taken aback. "What?"

"You don't belong here."

"At school?" Emma balked. "Uh, yeah, I think I do."

By then a crowd was starting to grow. Emma peered around the senior, worry gnawing in her gut. This wasn't good...

"I mean," The senior was starting to raise his voice for the sake of the audience they were getting. "With a family."

"Fam- what the hell are you talking about?" Emma felt anger and frustration begin to grow. This was the exact reason that she didn't want to go back to school.

"You don't deserve a family! You're not worthy enough for one!" He started to yell. "That woman that you were with the other day - your new foster mom? You don't belong with her."

"And why not?" Emma retorted, feeling her cheeks flush in anger.

"Because she doesn't know how screwed up you really are!"

Emma swallowed hard, his words sinking in painfully.

"You're a messed up, stupid bitch who doesn't deserve anything she's getting!"

Emma clenched her fists, trying to maintain an angry front.

"Why the hell would anyone want you?"

"Maybe Mary Margaret does want me!" Emma shouted desperately, her anger slipping away into fear. "She does! She wants me!"

The senior started to laugh. "Trust me, Swan. No one wants you."

Emma started to slide down the wall, trying to block out his words.

"No..." She whispered.

The senior sneered. "Or maybe, the bitch is just taking you in for the money that you bring, being a foster kid and all."

The group that had gathered around were snickering and moving in closer. Emma held back a sob. Everything seemed to blur into one loud, overwhelming nightmare.

"Weak!"

"Selfish!"

"Ungrateful girl!"

"Stupid bitch!"

"Worthless!"

Emma raised her head at those words and gasped out at the sight in front of her. The senior had vanished and now, where he stood mere seconds ago, was - her foster father?

He sneered. "Missed me?"

She held back a scream of terror and quickly hid her face in her hands as the senior-turned foster father and some of the crowd continued to shout abuse at her, tears sliding down her face.

"Don't you cry! I'll give you something to cry about!"

She didn't know what to do, or how she would get out of this situation. All she could do was sit there and take it. The voice of her foster father floated through the air, joining the senior's voice in one joint horrific melody.

"It's your fault!"

"Don't lie to me!"

"No one will ever, ever want you!"

And then -

"What is going on?!" A voice shouted over the top of the students' voices.

Emma peered out from her hands quickly. Her foster father was gone, replaced once again by the senior and she felt a wave of relief and a sense of de ja vu as she saw the principal standing behind the crowd. The crowd hushed immediately upon seeing him. The principal glared at each one of them, before his eyes came to rest on Emma. His eyes softened ever so slightly.

"Miss Swan? Come with me."

Emma stood up, quickly swiping at her face as she tried to regulate her breathing. She walked over to stand behind the man.

"As for the rest of you," The Principal yelled, directing his gaze at the now-fearful students. "Detention! For two weeks!"

The group groaned and the Principal demanded, "Get to class! Before I double the length!"

As the group dispersed, Emma caught sight of the senior staring at her, an evil smirk on his face.

"Come with me, Miss Swan."

The Principal's voice snapped her away from the senior and she glanced up at the man, fear rising in her chest. She knew that her foster father wasn't really here at her school - but it had felt so real. Would she ever escape from his tight grasp? A sob escaped from her and the Principal sighed.

"I don't think you're in any state to be at school for the rest of the day. Let me call someone to come get you..."

Mary Margaret rushed into the high school, all thoughts of work vanishing from mind. She had received a phone call from the principal from Emma's school during her lunch break that he had a few issues to discuss about Emma, and that the girl in question was unwell and could Mary Margaret come and get her. Of course, Mary Margaret had dropped everything to get to Emma. She was grateful that she had informed the primary school of her current situation with Emma prior to this, and they had been more than understanding about it, and had told her that if she needed to leave at any time, there would be no problems. Mary Margaret knew for a fact that it would be a major problem, but thanked them regardless.

And now was definitely one of those times where she would gladly take them up on the offer.

She hurriedly walked towards the Principal's Office and knocked on the door with urgency.

A sombre, "come in," was called out, and Mary Margaret pushed open the door. The principal was sitting at his desk, hands folded and face solemn.

"Hello, Miss Blanchard, how are you?" He asked politely.

Mary Margaret felt like sighing in worry, but forced a smile and replied, "I'm well."

At his gesture to the chair in front of his desk, she sat down heavily in the chair and asked, "What happened? Is Emma okay?"

The principal leaned forward grimly. "I'm not sure if you have been aware of this, and I'm sorry that I wasn't aware of this before -" Mary Margaret's eyes widened. What had happened? Before she could panic, the principal continued, "Miss Swan has been a victim of bullying. I caught a group of students harassing her earlier. I don't think today was the first time, but the events today have led her to have several panic attacks. She is currently in the nurse's office."

Mary Margaret felt an icy wave of fear rush into her and she froze. Emma had been bullied the first time Mary Margaret had met her. How could Mary Margaret have overlooked this? She could have stopped it before it had gotten this bad. All she could manage to get out was, "Is she alright?"

"She's going to be fine," The principal reassured. "The nurse and I just recommend that she go home for the day to get some rest."

Mary Margaret nodded. "Of course."

"And as for the students that were bullying Miss Swan? You needn't worry. I will see to it that they never bully anyone ever again," The principal stated firmly and Mary Margaret breathed a sigh of relief, the slight feeling of fear still lingering.

"Thank you," She said gratefully, accepting his handshake as she stood up. "If you don't mind, I need to go and see Emma now."

The principal nodded in understanding and Mary Margaret gave him one last grateful smile as she closed the door behind her.

The nurse's office's door was slightly ajar when Mary Margaret reached it and she took a quick second to wait outside of the door and listen. The air was quiet and still. Yet, Mary Margaret felt a sense of urgency, as if something were about to happen. A storm, perhaps. Either way, Mary Margaret set her shoulders and pushed open the door to enter into the silent room.

Emma was sitting on the bed, wrapped up in what looked like three blankets, staring at the floor. Mary Margaret felt a strong pang of remembrance fill her of the first time they had met. The poor girl. If she had only known then what she knew now about Emma... She glanced to the side of the room to block out the feelings of regret, and noticed the nurse was sitting at a desk, typing away at a computer. Mary Margaret shifted her feet and cleared her throat. Startled, the nurse turned around to face Mary Margaret.

"Can I help you?"

Mary Margaret glanced at Emma quickly. Emma's head was now raised to look at the visitor in the doorway. A hopeful look filled her eyes and Mary Margaret smiled with what she hoped looked like an encouraging expression. She quickly turned back to the nurse.

"Yes, I'm here to collect my daugh- uh, foster daughter," Mary Margaret stumbled.

The nurse looked down at the file in her hands. "Mary Margaret Blanchard?"

Mary Margaret nodded and smiled at Emma, who smiled back.

"Is this your foster mother?" The nurse clarified with Emma.

"Yeah," Emma affirmed.

The nurse stood up and started to pull the mountain-load of blankets off of Emma.

"Make sure she gets a lot of rest over the weekend. Overexertion could cause exhaustion and lead to lower energy levels and more risk of panic attacks," The nurse commanded Mary Margaret, folding the blankets neatly.

Emma rolled her eyes. "I think I'll be fine. I don't need to rest all weekend."

The nurse gave Emma a stern look and Emma backed down. She crossed her arms, a slightly grumpy look on her face.

Mary Margaret fought back a chuckle. "I'll make sure she gets plenty of rest."

Emma frowned at her. "Seriously?"

"You still have injured ribs, honey. I agree that a little bit more rest will do you some good," Mary Margaret spoke.

"Fine."

The nurse pulled a pen out of her blouse pocket and scribbled something down on the file. "Do you mind waiting in the hall for a minute, Emma? I won't keep your foster mom too long."

Emma slid herself off the bed without saying a word, and walked past Mary Margaret, shutting the door behind her.

Emma sank against the wall outside of the nurse's office and nestled her chin into her knees. She sighed, and was glad when she saw that the clock in the hallway read 1.50 pm. That meant that all students were in the middle of their classes and she had some quiet until Mary Margaret got out of the nurse's office. She felt utterly humiliated knowing that Mary Margaret would be finding out about the panic attacks from the nurse. She had tried to appear indifferent about having the attacks but she knew that she wouldn't be able to hide them now. Emma just knew that Mary Margaret would look at her differently...

The door swung open carefully. Emma peered up as Mary Margaret stepped out and looked down at Emma. Her face had sympathy and concern written all over it.

"Emma..." Mary Margaret spoke quietly as she lowered herself to sit beside the girl. "What happened today?"

Emma shook her head. "Everything. The guy from the senior class - I don't know his name - was just being his usual self. And I guess I overreacted. It was no big deal."

Mary Margaret rested a hand on her knee. "Having a panic attack is a big deal, Emma. Does this happen a lot?"

"I - no, not really."

"What happened today that triggered it?" Mary Margaret asked gently.

Emma frowned. "Didn't the nurse tell you all about it?"

"A little. But I want to hear what happened from you, honey."

Emma bit her lip. She did not want to remember the events that had just conspired over the past two hours but forced herself to. She felt the emotions bubble back to the surface. "He was just... there was so much noise... and everyone was standing so close to me... He kept saying these things and I-I felt like I couldn't breathe."

She stopped to take a breath, feeling her lungs start to constrict again.

"What did he say?" Mary Margaret asked. The woman sounded upset and angry and Emma felt a flash of fear run through her.

"I- he said that -" Emma couldn't breathe. Was Mary Margaret angry at her? "He just- He was- and there were so many people- he kept saying- I-I just... I'm- I'm sorry!"

Emma took a strangled gasp and placed her head between her knees once more. She felt Mary Margaret move her hand to Emma's back and start to rub it.

"Shh... Take a deep breath..." Mary Margaret instructed softly. Emma felt a sob erupt from her.

"He was saying that- that I don't deserve a f-family!" Emma felt herself crying out, her voice muffled slightly from her knees. "That you don't want me! You don't..." She trailed off, trying to breathe the best she could.

"Emma..."

"It's true, isn't it? You don't want me!" She sobbed.

"Emma, stop!"

Emma raised her head, trying to stop the sobs, but unable. She refused to look at Mary Margaret, knowing the truth. She didn't want her. She was going to go back to foster care, to crappy homes like her previous foster father's.

Her foster father.

He was going to get her. He was going to take her back because Mary Margaret didn't want her.

Emma began to tremble in fear, the terrifying thoughts clouding her mind, and she couldn't stop the cries that were escaping her lips.

Mary Margaret gently grabbed Emma's cheeks and raised her head to look at her. Green eyes pierced hers.

"Let me make one thing clear, Emma," Mary Margaret began softly, but firmly. "I want you."

Emma hiccupped and shook her head, but Mary Margaret stroked her thumbs under her eyes, wiping the tears away and repeated, "Shh... Listen to me. I want you to stay with me. For as long as you want. Forever is fine too."

"But are-are you just doing this because you feel b-bad for m-me?" Emma couldn't control her shaky voice.

"No, I promise! I really care for you, Emma. You have to know that."

Emma finally nodded. "O-okay..."

Mary Margaret breathed a sigh and pulled Emma to her, tucking her into her side. Emma sniffled and placed her head onto Mary Margaret's shoulder and the two just sat for a while in the empty school hallway, ignoring the rest of the world for a moment.

Her foster father pulled the knife back, shoving her back against the wall for leverage with one hand, and plunged the knife forcefully into her stomach.

Emma gasped as best as she could at the immediate, horrific pain.

It was excruciating. Her stomach burned, and felt like it was on fire and melting all at once. Breathing hurt even more. Her foster father leaned in close - too close - and whispered, "That's for your bastard baby. And soon - I'm gonna get your new foster mom."

Suddenly, a baby's piercing cries filled the air and Emma began to sob. Her vision was dimming and she managed to choke in a breath of air. Her foster father tightened his grip around her neck with a sneer, pushing the knife in further. The baby's cries grew louder and Emma wept along with it. She felt utterly sick; everything was starting to spin and she wrenched her eyes closed at the waves of pain -

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open to her dark, silent bedroom. Emma sat up, breathing heavily for a moment. She placed her head in one her hands and choked out a sob, reaching back and sliding her hand underneath her pillow for her comfort. Upon feeling the soft, white wool, Emma calmed but only slightly.

Would he ever leave her alone? Would she ever escape from him?

And why was he saying those things in her nightmare? That he would kill her, her baby, and -

Mary Margaret.

Emma suddenly felt her chest tighten, a sense of urgency filling her. She turned and climbed out of her bed, padded over to the bedroom door and carefully pulled it open slightly. She listened for a moment, trying to hear if Mary Margaret was downstairs. Sometimes the woman stayed up a little later than Emma, curled up on the couch with a book, the small lamp switched on, and every few minutes, Emma would usually be able to hear her turn the page. It was comforting. It made Emma feel safe, being able to know that someone that cared for her was awake, watching over her from a distance. Tonight though - she heard nothing. Only the silence. And it scared Emma a little.

And soon - I'm gonna get your new foster mom.

Emma pulled the door open quickly, and pattered down the stairs as fast as her healing ribs would allow her. She stopped before reaching the opening to Mary Margaret's bedroom, and took a deep breath, before peering around the corner, past the curtain.

To Emma's great relief, the woman was in her bed, just lying there peacefully. It reminded her of the fairytale book that Mary Margaret had given her - of Snow White under the sleeping curse, just waiting for her Prince Charming to come and wake her. Emma knew it was silly, but she stepped further into the room, trying to hear if indeed, Mary Margaret was under a sleeping curse. The room was painfully silent - and then she heard Mary Margaret's soft breathing. Emma heaved a sigh of relief. She mentally berated herself at actually believing in sleeping curses for a second.

She turned to leave, but something stopped her. Her foster father's words in her nightmare repeated in her mind once more:

And soon - I'm gonna get your new foster mom.

What if he crept into the apartment in the middle of the night while Emma was sleeping and attacked Mary Margaret?

No way in hell was that happening.

Emma carefully settled herself down on the floor, sitting against the banister of the stairs, and prepared herself for a long night of staying awake.

She had to protect Mary Margaret. She just had to. She had already lost her precious baby - she couldn't lose another person she cared about.