So, I'm currently in the process of rewriting the original fic as I'm not thrilled with it. But I've had this idea for awhile now. A look at what could've been. I did slightly alter when MM got pregnant for this fic along with one other thing, but the rest of the details prior to Emma's birth are all the same.
Mary Margaret runs her fingers through the glass unicorn mobile. When she first got it at her baby shower, she thought it'd be too dangerous to have around the baby. Regina showed her how to hang it and now, it's one of Emma's favorite things. She stares up at the shiny unicorns in total awe. Those big green eyes, almost too large for her tiny face, blinking rapidly as they take in the clear and blue glass. Her legs flinch, going in and out every so often. A pudgy face but skinny body. All the imperfect little things that make her the perfect little miracle that she is.
"I can't believe it's going to be her first Christmas," Regina says, coming up behind her. Mary Margaret turns and her former step-mother places a mug in her hands.
"And Hanukkah," Mary Margaret points out.
Regina nods, sipping her own tea. "Henry's excited for all the chocolate."
Mary Margaret gives a small smile, not nearly as big as she usually gets when she thinks of her adorable godson. She lets out a small sigh, looking back down at Emma. Her eyes are slowly closing. Mary Margaret takes a step back, grateful that she's memorized the creek patterns in the old floors. When she first found the loft, it seemed quiet and perfect for two people. She's since realized how much noise can carry in this place.
She walks back to the couch, sliding down and pulling her legs to her chest. Mary Margaret blows a strand of hair out of her face, a reminder that she should probably shower while Regina's here. She's still in her Storybrooke College sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants from a few days prior. Her last class was on Thursday and she doesn't have to work until tomorrow morning. Mary Margaret used to be the person that had to shower and find the perfect outfit every day. That went out the door when she gave birth.
Regina drops down beside her, rubbing her arm. "Are you okay? You've been quiet today."
"Yeah," Mary Margaret lies, swirling her mug a bit.
Regina raises an eyebrow. "Mary Margaret."
"Shouldn't you get home? I'm sure Daniel could use the help with Henry."
"You know Daniel isn't one of those dads. He gets so mad whenever anyone calls it babysitting, he loves Henry."
"Yeah," Mary Margaret whispers into her mug as she takes a sip. "You got real lucky when it came to the father of your kid."
Regina frowns. "You're thinking about him again."
"I tried not to," Mary Margaret allows herself to meet Regina's pitiful, slightly judgmental brown eyes. "I really did. I told myself that we were better off."
"But?"
"Then I look at Emma. How wonderful she is, how adorable. These past two months have not been easy, not by a long shot. And yet, I still get to be her mom." Mary Margaret cuddles her legs closer. "I get to love on her, figure out what she needs. I get to snuggle that cute little girl. She's all mine…and that feels selfish."
"He's the one that left."
"No, he told me to give her up for adoption once," she points out. "I got so hurt and offended, I decided lying would be the right choice."
She hasn't seen David since August. Only he, Ruby, Regina and Kathryn know the truth about who Emma's father is. Everyone else thinks she just doesn't know. It was hard enough having to be pregnant those last few months of high school and then at all of the goodbye parties. The last thing she needed was for there to be rumors that she had been the mistress that broke up Storybrooke High's golden couple. No one would believe it was during Kathryn and David's two day break up. It wasn't as if anyone really wanted to stay by her side. Mary Margaret never thought of herself as popular, but until she got pregnant, she thought she had more friends. Turns out when one has to wear a maternity dress to prom, no one wants to split a limo with them.
Regina shrugs, sipping her tea once more. "He seemed pretty determined. He offered to help you pick a couple and everything."
"And I didn't fight him on it. I just let him walk away."
"You couldn't have made him stay. If he wanted to, he would've."
"It's not that simple." She gnaws on her lower lip. "In a few years, Emma's going to ask me why she doesn't have a father. And I'm going to have to say it's because I never told him that I kept her."
"Because he was horrible to you. One minute he said he was going to stand by your side and help. The next, he ran to Yale with his tail between his legs because it was too real."
"That's not true!" Mary Margaret exclaims. She shuts her eyes, bracing herself for Emma's cries but none come. She sighs, setting her mug down and getting up from the couch. Her voice comes out soft, nearly broken. "He was scared. And I can't exactly blame him."
Regina's eyes are wide now, but she doesn't move from her spot. "You were scared, but you stayed."
"I was pregnant. You know what that's like Regina. Daniel loved Henry before he got here, but you know it's not the same. Until he held him, he didn't understand the love you had for him." Regina grows quiet, prompting Mary Margaret to keep talking. "Maybe this baby wasn't real to David."
Regina gets up, shaking her head. "Why are you looking for reasons to defend him?"
"Because I'm tired of doing it alone."
A pregnant pause envelopes between them. Regina places her mug besides Mary Margaret and walks closer to her.
"I can be there more," she whispers. "I'll try."
Mary Margaret gives her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, Regina, but you've spread yourself thin enough as it is. You work so hard and take care of Henry, then you're here helping me with Emma. You don't have time for Daniel, much less yourself."
"I don't mind. Daniel doesn't either, he gets it."
Mary Margaret takes her hands. "Maybe not, but I do. It's not your job to take care of Emma or me. That hasn't been your job in a very long time."
Regina sighs, throwing her head back. "What if I want it to be?"
"Then you're fired."
Regina's face twitches, fighting off a smile. "You're not funny."
"I'm not trying to be," Mary Margaret replies, despite a grin coming across her own face.
Regina lets out a deep breath, swinging their hands. "What if you try this and he turns his back on you again?"
"Then I come home and I'll know I did everything for Emma to have a father in her life."
"You could get hurt," Regina points out. "I don't want you to get your heartbroken."
"I'm not looking for him to be in my life. We were a one-night stand, that's it."
It's a lie and they both know it. Mary Margaret has tried to deny her feelings for David, she's tried to tell herself all they were was 5 awkward minutes in Ruby's guest room. But it's always been more than that.
None of that matters right now, though. Emma does. She comes first. Before any stupid high school crush.
"Anyway," Mary Margaret says. "It's not about me or David. It's about Emma. I'm doing my best, I know I have you, Daniel and Ruby but that's not the same as having her other parent. She'd do so much better with both of us. Emotionally and financially."
"I can't argue he owes child support," Regina grumbles.
"I thought I could do this on my own, but it's just hard. Paying for rent, stuff for her. I'm on WIC and food stamps but that still doesn't make half the dent it should. Plus, all the stuff I need for school."
"Which you need to stay in."
Mary Margaret silently nods. She's debated dropping out several times. It'd mean she could work more hours, possibly drop out of government assistance. Regina and Daniel have always talked her out of it. The latter even paid for her books for the first semester, which Mary Margaret insists she'll pay him back on when she can.
She pulls away from Regina and turns to the glass mason jar on the coffee table that she throws some of her tips into at the end of the night. Originally her feeble attempt to save up for Emma's college fund, now potentially her way to David.
"I looked into bus tickets, my car won't make it that far," she says. "I'm about fifty short. I should have it after Christmas."
Regina walks past her and over to her purse hanging off the rack Mary Margaret got for two bucks at a yard sale. She starts digging through it and Mary Margaret's mouth drops open.
"Regina, no. You've done enough."
Regina shakes her head, coming back with the Grant covered note. "Consider it your Hanukah present." When Mary Margaret won't take it, Regina presses it to her palm. "Emma deserves to have both parents with her during her first holiday season."
Mary Margaret regards her calendar. "Winter break has already started. I think I've seen some people home."
"Ruth stopped by the shop the other day. She was saying David couldn't come home because of his work study. He'll be at Yale."
Mary Margaret lets out a deep breath. She was kind of banking on waiting until after the holidays to build up the courage.
But she also happens to know a bus for New Haven, Connecticut leaves tomorrow at 8 AM. Granny won't be too mad if she has to call out "sick".
"I guess I'm going to the Nutmeg State," she mumbles, pulling Regina in for a hug.
David's keys jingle as he shoves them back into his pocket, the door to his suite closing behind him. A plastic bag from the bodega swings from his other hand, filled with enough snacks to get him through the weekend. He'll have the place to himself. Thomas has finished up with finals and is leaving tonight to head home to West Virginia. He offered for David to come along. David declined, giving him the same lie he did his mother. In truth, the professor he's working for insisted he take his full winter break to relax.
"You work too hard, David. You're in college, you should be having a little fun."
A good idea in principle. David's been to a few parties, but his heart truly isn't in it. How can it be when he's a father?
No, he's not a father. Not really. He hasn't heard from Mary Margaret since they left for schools but he knows by now that their kid has been born. They were due at the end of November. He tried not to do the math or think about the baby that's probably 3 weeks old by now. Much less their mother that he abandoned to do the hard part alone.
Thomas heads out of his room, a large duffel bag flung over his shoulder. David nods at him. "Heading out?"
"Yeah." He pauses, looking over his shoulder at David's shut bedroom door. "Um, you've got a visitor."
David tilts his head. Any friends he's made since arriving in Connecticut have headed home for the holidays. Had his mother insisted on coming to visit him after all? He told her no, they couldn't afford it. "I wasn't expecting anyone."
Thomas "She didn't seem like a serial killer, so I let her in."
He chuckles. "I trust you. Merry Christmas."
"Same to you." Thomas winks. "Should be a merry one for you indeed, considering how hot that girl is."
Thomas slips out the door, leaving David dumbfounded. Had Kathryn come to visit him? They had remained broken up, she went to Stanford as planned. She didn't seem as mad at him at the last going away party they attended, but he knew he had still broken her heart. Yet, she had family in Connecticut. It was her pull to going to a school there in the first place.
David sighs, bracing himself. Even if he isn't with Mary Margaret, he was right when he told Kathryn that he didn't have feelings for her anymore. She was a great person, but just not who he saw himself with.
He grips the knob and slowly opens it. Sitting on his unmade bed in a pair of beat-up jeans and soft yellow sweater isn't Kathryn, it's Mary Margaret. Her long hair has been pulled back in a ponytail. Bags sit heavily beneath her beautiful green eyes. The sweater does its best, but it cannot hide that she was pregnant not long ago. Of all the surprises…she's a much welcomed one.
He opens his mouth to speak when he hears a bit of squawking. It's only then he notices the black car seat sitting next to his bed. Beneath a white knit blanket is a tiny baby. Their mouth opens and shuts, almost making a sucking sound. Mary Margaret leans down and places their abandoned pacifier back in.
The plastic bag slips from David's grip onto the pristine hardwood floors. Mary Margaret looks back up at him, not saying a word.
He expects to sound mad or hurt. Instead, his voice squeaks in a way it hasn't since puberty. "What the hell?"
"This is Emma," Mary Margaret offers quietly. "Your daughter."
Daughter. All he had of the baby this entire time was a single sonogram Mary Margaret gave him around graduation. A fuzzy silhouette, all he could make out was the head.
"Did you find out?" He asked, his eyes glued to the photo.
"No. It doesn't matter. They're not ours anyway."
He had tried not to think about the sex. It made it easier in a way. No one knew about the baby. He couldn't think of them, they weren't his anymore.
But now he has a daughter. David is a father to a little girl.
"I…I see," David manages to get out, his eyes glued to the baby. He shakes his head, trying to focus. "I don't understand. Did the adoptive parents fall through?"
Mary Margaret bites her lip and he's reminded of the time she did the same to his mouth. "There never were adoptive parents."
"Excuse me?"
"I was never going to give her up for adoption David."
"But you said…we agreed…"
"No," the sweetness drips away from Mary Margaret's voice, leaving anger instead. "You agreed. You told me what I should do. I never wanted it."
"You said yes!"
The baby-Emma-begins to shriek, her pacifier falling out once more. Mary Margaret fusses with the straps and gently picks her up, bringing the blanket with her. She cuddles Emma close, cooing down at her and singing a soft verse of Wheels on the Bus. David finds himself mesmerized at how easily she does it, as if she were born to. Mary Margaret raises from the bed, continuing to rock the baby. David takes a better look around his room and sees two bags in the corner by his desk. A small pink suitcase that Mary Margaret brought on their class trip to D.C years ago sits beside an overstuffed tote-no, a diaper bag. There are stuffed animals, extra pacifiers, rags.
Emma eventually quiets down, her tiny eyes closing. Mary Margaret lets out a sigh of relief and turns back to him.
"Can we talk in the living room?" David nods. He expects her to put the baby in the car seat but instead she lays her down on a flat part of the bed.
"Um, isn't that unsafe?"
Mary Margaret isn't offended by the question like he expected. She simply shrugs. "She can't roll over for another couple of months."
While she exits the room, David does a double take, unsure. Emma remains sleeping. Her tiny chest rises and falls, signaling breathing. He's only known her in person for a few seconds and yet he already feels this surge of protection. David tip toes to the bed and sets up a barrier on the sides, made of pillows and some of his textbooks. He gently moves his finger against her cheek, almost surprised she isn't made of porcelain. She's tiny, can't be more than a few weeks. Tiny whisps of light blonde, nearly white, hair atop her head. Pudgy hands coming out of a red long-sleeved onesie that reads "Mommy's Little Warrior". Her cheeks rosy. Face wrinkled, a frown seemingly planted on her face, even in her sleep. He can't help but wonder if she'll have his blue eyes or Mary Margaret's green. Maybe a mix of both.
He used to think it was a myth, that you could love a child you just met. And yet looking down at this baby, this helpless little thing that's all his and Mary Margaret's, his heart has cracked open. It's been a hell of a day. He's emotionally exhausted and has his angry former one-night stand in his common area. But all that seems to matter is that he loves her.
It's scary to think of all the things he'd do for this little girl.
He makes his way out of the room, leaving the door open so they can hear her cry. Mary Margaret stands with her arms folded over her chest, looking around the common area. Yale supplied the furniture but Thomas brought a pretty big TV. They've used it to watch the game a few times.
"Nice place," Mary Margaret mutters. David wonders if she's thinking about her own Columbia dorm room. Would she even be in one?
"Yeah." He sticks his hands in his pockets. "Mary Margaret, seriously. If you had told me you wanted to keep the baby…"
"I did." She looks him in the eye. "I told you the night of the Spring Fling. I had thought about it long and hard. I wanted her. You agreed."
"At the time, I meant it. But like I told you, I got scared. My mom was going on and on about how proud she was of me and James."
He doesn't add his own fears about fatherhood. How badly he wanted a baby but was terrified of ending up like Robert. Well, looks like he achieved just that anyway. Robert had left Ruth while she was pregnant and didn't return until the twins were nearly a year. Ruth tried to hide that truth but had to explain why he wasn't in any pictures of his first year.
David shakes away his thoughts. "Like I said, I was terrified."
"And I wasn't?" Mary Margaret threw her arms in the air. "You know, I didn't exactly plan to get pregnant and thrown out of my father's house at 18. I wasn't even sure I wanted kids."
"What changed?"
"That plus sign. The one that told me that I was going to bring a child into this world. As soon as I knew she was coming…I wanted her. And I wasn't going to let you stop me."
David nods. He can understand it. "Why didn't you just tell me that?"
"Because it was bad enough that you rejected me once. I couldn't…I couldn't take it twice. Besides, if that's what you wanted…Yale, I mean…who was I to stop you?"
"She's my kid."
"Only because I wanted her?"
"It's not that I didn't want her!" David rubs the back of his neck. "I did, I always have. Walking away from you two…I hated myself for it."
Mary Margaret frowns. "Then why did you do it?"
"I told you, I was scared."
"And I don't think that's a good enough excuse."
David isn't sure how to respond to that. She's right. He walked away from her, from their child, and he can't even be completely honest with her. It's partially why he walked away. He's so fucked up, he thought Emma deserved more than that. A father not haunted by the sins of his own.
"You still should've told me," he says. "I had a right to know."
"I'm here now."
"A few weeks late it'd seem."
"Seven weeks," she corrects. "Emma is seven weeks old."
David attempts to do the math in his head. "She wasn't due until November 25th."
"She was early. October 23rd , 2003," a smile tugs on her lips. "She was stubborn."
David tries to match it, but thinks of the very tiny baby in the next room. "She's so little," he whispers.
"They always told me she was measuring a bit behind. I was on steroids to help her gain weight. Still, when she was born she had to be in the NICU for a bit. She didn't come home until around Thanksgiving."
David thinks of his little girl, helpless. Mary Margaret, so young and alone watching her. Halloween of that year, he had been dressed as prince charming, getting drunk at a frat while Emma fought for her life.
He should've been there, holding Mary Margaret's hand and worrying alongside her.
"You should've called me," David says, his voice hoarse. "I would've been there. I would've left school…"
"I didn't know that you would. I was going through enough, the last thing I needed was you hanging up on me or even worse, not answering at all." Mary Margaret digs her dirty sneaker into the side of the coffee table.
"You shouldn't have had to go through that alone."
"I wasn't alone," she waves off. "I had Regina and Daniel."
That's not what he meant. David knows she knows that.
"Still, she's my child." Anger fills his bones. The thought of never knowing that precious little girl in the next room. "And you were just not going to tell me that you were keeping her."
"You walked…"
"It doesn't matter!" He clamps his eyes shut, slowly counting back from 10. When he opens them again, Mary Margaret's physical guard is somewhat lowered. "I had a right to be there. To know. Even if I said get lost, that was my choice and you took it from me! I lost 7 weeks of my daughter's life! I wasn't there when she was going through the scariest thing. And when did you plan on telling me? When she was 18 and wanted to know?"
"No!"
"So, you were just never going to tell met then?"
"No! Yes! I…I don't know, David! It's complicated, okay?" Tears pool her eyes. David has the urge to hug her, take back everything he's said. But the larger part leaves him planked in place. "I was dealing with a million hormones, trying to plan on everything we'd need. And then she was early and I had to deal with that…I think a bigger part of me knew I had to tell you at some point. But the further my pregnancy went on, the further apart we got, I just thought it was easier. You left for Yale. I didn't want to disrupt your life."
"Don't make this about me. You weren't thinking of me! You only thought of yourself." He shakes his head. "And I don't know why I'm surprised. You were always a spoiled little rich girl."
Mary Margaret's face shifts and she takes a step forward. "Oh shut the fuck up," she sneers, wiping furiously at her eyes. "You're all I've thought about since I've gotten pregnant! Do you know how badly I wanted you to come back? To apologize? To lay claim on that beautiful little girl? To take a shift so I could get some rest from the c-section that tore apart my body? All the times when I was up all night while studying for finals on top of work? You've done nothing but invade my mind since I got that damn negative test!"
David's mouth drops open, absorbing the bomb she just dropped on him. From the look in her eyes, she's not finished yet.
"And I'm not a spoiled little rich girl anymore. You wanna talk about being scared? Do you know how terrified I was when I admitted to my father that the pregnancy test was mine? Or the nights I spent in my car until I could afford the loft because I knew Daniel and Regina couldn't afford to help me?" Mary Margaret shakes her head. "You don't know me, you never did. All I was to you was a pretty distraction from a girl who was much too good for you in the first place!"
Mary Margaret is breathing heavily, tears running down her cheeks. David doesn't know what to say. What is there? He's angry, she's angry. He can't even fully process all of what she's just screamed in his face, much less his own feelings on the matter. Tears spike his own eyes, threatening to fall.
Without another word, Mary Margaret heads back into his bedroom. He follows behind her, watching as she carefully lifts Emma from the bed, cradling her head until she's safely placed into her car seat.
"You can't just take her from me," David finally speaks as she grabs the two bags. "She's my kid."
Mary Margaret looks up at him, her eyes red and bleary. "I know. But I can't fight anymore, not today. We're staying at the Super 8 until Monday. Room 105."
He wants to ask if she needs help downstairs, but like a seasoned pro, she throws the diaper bag over her shoulder and keeps one hand on the suitcase, the other on her car seat. David slides onto the bed, watching her disappear out of the room. A moment later, the door opens and shuts, leaving David alone once more.
Mary Margaret barely touches her pizza that night, despite the tourist guide claiming it's some of the best in the state. She eats enough to be able to feed Emma throughout the night. Her daughter makes sure she doesn't get much sleep, not that the room would allow her.
It was a mistake to come. David is halfway through with his first semester of college. He doesn't need to be bothered with this. He doesn't want any of it. All of it is why she didn't want to come in the first place. He's rejecting her, them. And what did she expect? For him to lift Emma into his arms and come up with a brilliant plan?
If her bus ticket weren't dated, she'd leave sooner. Instead, she's stuck at this flea bag motel where the only claim to fame is a "continental breakfast" which is really just three selections of cereal, some stale pastries and cold coffee. Mary Margaret eats it anyway, not like she can turn down anything free.
She's looking over pamphlets for an activity to do, debating between the planetarium and Ikea. The first is probably more stimulating but with the latter, Mary Margaret can daydream about furniture she can't afford. About her dreamhouse, where Emma will have a room with four walls and possibly a nice yard. A sharp knock pulls her out of her daydream. She double checks that Emma is okay on the towel she laid on top of the bed before looking through the peephole. It's a little blurry, but she makes out blonde hair and that brown leather jacket she spent four years staring at.
Taking the lock off the latch, Mary Margaret opens the door. David holds out a Starbucks cup, another in his left hand.
"Venti white chocolate mocha, no whip."
Mary Margaret accepts it. "How'd you remember?"
"That field trip to D.C You and Ruby only ordered them every day."
She fights off a smile, stepping to the side so he can come in. He goes right to the bed, looking down at Emma. Mary Margaret walks beside him, taking a sip of her drink.
"I didn't think you'd come," she whispers.
"I wanted to last night but I needed time to calm down," he admits, his eyes not leaving Emma. "I like her name. Emma. Emma Blanchard."
"Emma Ruth." That gets him to look at her. "I knew you'd probably never meet her, but I wanted her to have something of yours. Your mom was always so sweet whenever she'd volunteer. I guess a part of me felt guilty that she was walking around Storybrooke without meeting her."
David nods, rubbing the back of his neck. "She doesn't even know about her."
Mary Margaret frowns. "You never told her?"
"No."
"Because you thought she'd be disappointed in you?"
"Yeah, but not for you getting pregnant." She gives him a confused look and he sighs. "I knew if I told my mom, she'd be disappointed but supportive. She'd do anything to help us raise that baby, but she really couldn't afford it."
Mary Margaret nods. "Is that really why you didn't want to raise her?"
"A part of it. I also knew I probably wouldn't be good at it."
"That's not…"
David cuts her off, holding up a hand. "Mary Margaret, I know your dad sucks. Well, I don't know the full extent but I also know you had a great mother. I remember Eva too. She was kind, fair. You had a great role model on how to be a mother. My dad? He was in and out of my life until I was 6. Then he got into a car accident after drinking."
Mary Margaret's heart sinks. "I didn't know that," she whispers.
"Yeah, well…" He shakes his head. "After that, my mother had her brother around a lot so we'd have a "fatherly influence" but George honestly wasn't much better. He treated us like crap. Eventually Mom cut him out but those two are all I knew about fatherhood. I was so scared I'd do that to Emma."
Mary Margaret understands. She may have had Eva, but there are so many times she's scared of herself becoming Leopold. Outside of the abuse, he was controlling and disappointing. Nothing she ever did was good enough for him. If she got an A in one class, he'd question why she couldn't do the same in the other. Why was she dating Herc-the son of a mason-when she could date Victor Whale, after all every person in his family went onto become doctors. After Eva died and Regina left, she felt very alone. Sure, she had her friends, Regina visited, but it wasn't the same. In a household that was once filled with laughter and fun, remained quiet and anger.
She didn't want that for Emma and she fought to give her the opposite.
"You don't have to be them, David," she says.
"It's not that simple, like I can wish away my fears of fatherhood."
"It's not, you're right. I still have my fears, I'll probably always have them because that's what being a parent is: scary. You worry that you're going to fuck up the kid and it drives you harder to prove that voice in your head wrong. To be the person that she needs. Because she didn't ask for that doubt."
Mary Margaret rubs Emma's stomach, causing a tiny gurgle to escape the baby's lips. She's still yet to have her first real smile or laugh. Outside crying, Mary Margaret has no real way to tell if she's happy or sad. Does Emma even fully understand either emotion? Probably not. Mary Margaret wonders if that makes it a little easier.
"God, she's beautiful," David whispers, briefly changing the subject.
Mary Margaret nods. "I know. Probably biased but she is the cutest baby ever."
"No bias. She definitely is." He settles down onto the bed, putting his coffee on the end table next to the lamp that won't turn on. "I'm still scared."
"I know," Mary Margaret whispers. She is too.
"But I can't walk away from her," his eyes connect with Mary Margaret's. "Not again."
Relief breaks through Mary Margaret's heart. She lets out a long breath, her knees buckling. Tears pool down her face as she throws her hand over her mouth. David leaps back up, wrapping his arms around her. It's all too easy to melt into his embrace, burying her head into his shoulder as she sobs.
"I tried…I tried to tell myself I didn't need you," Mary Margaret sobs. "That I could leave here alone and that it'd be okay. But…but…I was terrified."
"Shhh," David soothes, cradling the back of her head with his palm. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
"I was…" Her breath collapses. "I was so scared. I pretended…"
"You don't have to be brave anymore. It's okay. You're not alone, Mary Margaret."
With the permission she didn't know she needed, Mary Margaret allows herself to sob in David's arms. He doesn't seem to mind her tears staining his jacket. She stays there, allowing the tears she's kept in for months, ones that she wouldn't even let Regina see. She stays like that for what seems like forever. He doesn't try to wipe away her tears or move her face. He just holds her and whispers sweet nothings into her ear.
Eventually, she pulls away, wiping at her swollen eyes. David's own face is tear stained and sticky. She looks between the bed and then him.
"Would you like to hold your daughter?"
David doesn't even hesitate. "Please."
She scoops Emma up from the bed, rocking her when she fusses from the change. Mary Margaret lays her into David's arms, helping him cradle the back of her head. David stares down at their daughter in awe, his mouth dropping open. He goes to stroke her face and Emma latches onto his finger with her hand. David lets out a small chuckle in spite of his tears.
"She's strong."
"Tiny but mighty," Mary Margaret echoes the NICU nurse's words.
It's not the life David imagined for himself. He's certain it's not the one his mother planned for him either. There's such disappointment in her eyes the day he returns to Storybrooke with a tiny baby in his arms. It's what he feared, but he knows no matter what happens, he's not giving up on his daughter again.
And as soon as Ruth holds her namesake…she can't either.
There are several discussions. David ultimately decides to take a semester off from college. He'll work so Mary Margaret can focus more on school, though she keeps her job at the diner. Daniel offers them a proposition. As long as both keep working and providing for Emma, they can live rent free in the barn he had finished renovating for Henry Sr's inevitable need to live with his daughter. Since that's at least a decade off, they were going to rent it out. Daniel says that can wait. David knows he can never repay him. The rent alone saves them more than they ever expected.
It's a blur of diaper changes, sleepless nights and first words. There are more arguments about the past. After all things couldn't be settled within 24 hours in New Haven. Despite it all, they try to remain friends. They get to know one another; they barely did the night they slept together.
Eventually, David realizes that returning to Yale is impossible. He still wants to become a lawyer, but he cannot be away from Emma. Not after caring for her every day for so long. He settles for Husson University. Bangor is a manageable commute and he can continue to work at the animal shelter in the meantime. Mary Margaret remains at Storybrooke College on track for education as she waitresses for Granny's.
David was not there on October 3rd, 2003 when Emma was born. He is there in 2004 when his baby girl turns a year old. There's a party planned at Granny's. It's inside, perfect for this rainy day. Emma doesn't notice or care that she's one, she's too busy crawling furiously after 3-year-old Henry. In the kitchen, Regina works hard on the cake. Daniel is working but will be home in time for the party. Mary Margaret sits on the couch, grinning at their daughter. After a terrifying hospital stay for pneumonia in February where they were both told to prepare for the worst, Emma defied all of the odds.
They've all defied the odds.
David settles on the couch beside her. "It's been quite a year, well more like 10 months, hasn't it?"
Mary Margaret laughs. "I'd say so. A year ago today, I was terrified. They told me we had to deliver early, I couldn't even hold her…" She trails off, shaking her head as she gazes in wonder at Emma. Her hair has grown quick, beautiful golden ringlets atop her head. Big, wide green eyes like her mother's, and a cheeky smile that's all her father. "Now, look at her."
Emma's a bit behind developmentally. She's not yet pulling herself to stand and only recently started babbling. And yet, she's come so far.
"Daniel gave me Emma's birthday present a little early," David says.
Mary Margaret tilts her head. "Oh?"
"A free night of babysitting. Well, could be two free nights. Says we could use it separately or together." David lets out a deep breath. "Would you consider taking it with me?"
Her smile grows. "Are you asking me on a date?"
"I know we did things backwards. The night at Ruby's party, then the baby, we barely knew each other. This past year we've focused all on Emma, as we should. But maybe it's time we see what this is?"
Mary Margaret nods. "I'd like that."
David grins, sliding his hand through hers as they both watch Emma and Henry. They don't know what the future will hold. Maybe they'll crash and burn. Maybe they're only meant to be best friends, raising their daughter together.
But they'll only know if they give it a shot.