The first time Emma opened her eyes, it was to dusky gray light. A gasp caught in her throat when she spotted Mary Margaret fast asleep next to her. What in the …
She pushed herself up on one elbow, trying to remember why Mary Margaret was in her room. As she glanced around, she realized she had it backwards. Mary Margaret wasn't in her room, she was in Mary Margaret's. Okay, seriously, what the hell?
As if somehow sensing Emma's confusion, Mary Margaret turned over with a soft moan and reached out, taking Emma's hand in her own. Emma gasped, then squinted in the semi-light at Mary Margaret. As far as she could tell, the teacher hadn't awakened. She tried to tug her hand free but Mary Margaret simply tightened her grip.
Well, shit. It looked like her options were to risk waking Mary Margaret by pulling away or to wait it out. Letting out a mildly exasperated huff, she settled back down to wait. The tug of sleep was too strong, however, and in less than a minute, her eyes had closed again.
The next time she opened her eyes it was considerably brighter. A brief moment of panic gripped her when she didn't recognize her surroundings.
Wait a second, she was in Mary Margaret's room. But why? She wracked her brain and vaguely recalled waking up just before dawn and wondering the same thing.
Aw, crap, she thought when the reason came to her.
She had totally passed out on her roommate last night. Damn. Mary Margaret was no longer lying next to her but judging from the aromas wafting into the bedroom from the kitchen, she hadn't gone far.
Emma sank back down on the pillows, inhaling the scents of brewing coffee and frying bacon. A small part of her wished she could stay where she was and just hold onto this moment for a little longer. It felt like … home. Eventually, her responsible side forced her to climb out of bed.
She padded out of the room, following the delicious smells to the kitchen. "Good morning," Mary Margaret said when she saw Emma, a smile on her face. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did." Emma accepted the mug of coffee Mary Margaret offered her and took a sip. She had no idea how, but every morning Mary Margaret made Emma's coffee better than Emma did. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on you."
"It's quite all right. To be honest with you, I kind of engineered it that way." When Emma stiffened and arched a single questioning eyebrow, Mary Margaret smiled to set her at ease. "I thought of it when you were falling asleep at dinner. I figured you were likely to keep going until you crashed and thought it would be better if you crashed on a bed instead of, oh I don't know, sitting up at the table."
She didn't quite know how she felt about that. "Thanks. I think."
Mary Margaret gave her a little smirk before refocusing her attention on breakfast. Emma walked over to the opposite side of the island, content to just watch Mary Margaret cook. As she took another sip of coffee, her eyes traveled to the clock on the wall. What she saw almost made her spit the coffee back into her mug. "Holy shit! It's nine-thirty?"
"Yes," Mary Margaret replied, a frown knotting her brow.
How was she being so calm about this? It was nine-thirty on a weekday! Emma should have been on the clock thirty minutes ago, though she was usually at the station earlier than nine. Not to mention that the last time she remembered looking at the clock was when Mary Margaret called her into her room, which was at seven the previous night.
Had she really slept over fourteen hours? Shit! "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Why would I?" Mary Margaret asked, her frown deepening. "You needed the sleep, Emma. It's not like you report to anyone, but even if you did, how many hours have you worked over the last few days? I think you're allowed to be a little late just this once."
"That's very sweet of you, but I have things to do." Emma set her mug down on the counter and headed towards the stairs to her room. "I have to get to the hospital to check on Kathryn, I have to get going on the investigation into your frame-up, I have to get things ready for your party–"
Mary Margaret grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop. "You can do all of those things after you have some breakfast."
Emma opened her mouth to argue but the stern look on Mary Margaret's face stopped her argument before it could even begin. Looking at her now, it was not at all hard to believe that she really was Emma's mother. "Okay, fine, I guess I'm having breakfast. I'm just going to get changed and I'll be back down."
Mary Margaret smiled as she let her roommate's hand go. "That's better."
After the forced – but delicious – breakfast, things went pretty well for Emma. She checked in with Kathryn, who thankfully was doing much better but unfortunately hadn't seen or heard anything remotely helpful. She got everything finalized for Mary Margaret's party, which went off without a hitch.
Unless she counted that little moment when David Nolan showed up. She had taken care of that for Mary Margaret, though. What really weirded her out was how bad she felt at having to turn him away. This was the guy who'd broken Mary Margaret's heart and then accused her of murder. Why did she feel at all sorry she had to tell him to leave?
Weird.
Everything went swimmingly until Regina brought Sidney to the station to confess to kidnapping Kathryn to frame Mary Margaret. Emma knew it was utter horseshit but there was really nothing she could do about it. She had a confession. No one was going to believe that Sidney had confessed to a crime he didn't commit because, well, who did that?
She was still fuming when she arrived home that evening. She slammed the door so hard the picture frames rattled, which only served to make her even angrier. "Emma?" came Mary Margaret's voice from her bedroom. "You all right?"
"Yeah," Emma answered, though her voice betrayed just how not all right she was. "I didn't mean to slam the door like that."
Mary Margaret emerged from her room, the book she'd been reading still in her hand. "What's the matter?"
The thought of having to explain to Mary Margaret that Regina was getting away with everything yet again sent her temper through the roof. She really wanted to go break something but she'd broken enough of Mary Margaret's glasses while the teacher was stuck in that holding cell.
After eyeing her roommate up and down, Mary Margaret calmly strode to the cabinet and pulled down two mugs. It appeared she planned to use the tried and true method of cocoa therapy to calm Emma down enough to talk. Emma gave the ghost of a smile and stood at the counter to wait.
A few minutes later, Mary Margaret handed her a mug of cocoa. Emma took a sip and let the warm, cinnamon-laced chocolate linger on her tongue a moment. Mary Margaret watched her until she could see Emma's muscles relax, then smiled and made her way to the kitchen table. Emma followed suit, sitting down across from her. "Now do you think you can you tell me what happened?" Mary Margaret asked.
Emma set the mug down and took a deep breath. "Regina got Sidney to confess to framing you."
Mary Margaret's eyebrows shot to the ceiling. "She what?"
"Yeah, that's pretty much what I said. He's confessing to everything. I can't touch her."
"That's …" Mary Margaret sighed as she sat back in the chair. "That's so … unfair. To him, to you …"
"And to you," Emma reminded her. She took another deep breath to prepare before telling Mary Margaret what happened next. "I told her I knew it was bullshit. She didn't seem to care. In fact, she looked like she was … enjoying it. I was so mad at her, Mary Margaret … I told her I was going to fight her for Henry."
Mary Margaret's eyes widened but she didn't say a word. She just waited until Emma chose to explain.
"At first I was just so angry. She tried to take my family from me, and I wanted her to know how that felt." Emma blinked when what she'd said to Regina finally registered. She hadn't fully processed the words she had chosen, most likely because she hadn't chosen them at all. They'd just slipped out of her mouth and now she remembered telling Regina that she tried to take away someone she loved.
Somewhere along the line, she'd come to love Mary Margaret. None of her other friendships had ever felt like this. The only other family she'd chosen was Matthew. She remembered loving Matthew, too, but she didn't remember it feeling the same. Maybe it was because they were kids and love was different. Or maybe it was because Mary Margaret was different. But why? Why was Mary Margaret different?
She shook her head, trying to get herself back to the here and now. "But on the way over here, I thought … maybe it's for the best if I take him. She's a sociopath, Mary Margaret. I don't want Henry … I mean, he can't …"
"You're worried about him," Mary Margaret said softly. "About his safety."
Emma looked up and met her roommate's eyes. "I know I gave him up and technically, I shouldn't have a say. But … this isn't what I wanted for him." She looked away again, staring down at her cocoa.
Mary Margaret was quiet for a long moment. "Emma, look at me." She waited until Emma looked her in the eye before continuing. "Don't take this wrong, but what you're proposing is going to be a very long and very trying road. Are you sure this is a decision you want to make right now?"
Immediately, Emma's defenses shot straight up. Damn straight she wanted to make this decision right now, and who the hell was Mary Margaret to tell her what to do? As she searched her roommate's face, however, she saw nothing but concern and softened a little. "You don't think I should try to get him back?"
"I'm not saying that at all," she clarified. "All I'm saying is this is a life-changing decision, for you and Regina … and for Henry. Once you start down this road, there's no going back. I just want you to be sure this is something you want, not something you're trying to take from her."
Of course Emma wanted this! At least, she thought she did. She certainly didn't want Henry in that woman's house any longer than he had to be.
But then the reason for Mary Margaret's concern clicked: did she not want Henry in Regina's house because she was worried for Henry or because she was mad at Regina?
After a moment, though, she realized that her stomach was turning at the thought of Henry staying with a woman who framed his teacher for a murder that didn't even occur and convinced some poor innocent man to take the fall for her. This wasn't about Regina. It was about Henry and what was best for him.
When she looked back up at Mary Margaret, she could tell that the teacher wouldn't accept that answer. Not yet. Anything she said now would merely sound like a justification of a decision reached in anger. "I'll sleep on it," she said instead.
Mary Margaret's relief was palpable. "Good."
Emma smiled back. She could let Mary Margaret believe she was thinking it over, but her mind was already made up. As soon as she had the opportunity, she was going to start compiling a shit-ton of evidence to use against Regina in the custody case.