Emma

She looked at her watch. They had little more than ten minutes left, could she stall for that long?
"What are you waiting for, dearie?" Rumplestiltskin asked, "Surely you weren't thinking of buying time with idle chatter?" She looked up and glared at him. She had little experience of Rumplestiltskin pre-Mr Gold, but he seemed like an ass. With his annoying giggles and weird hand gestures; he was like something straight out of a pantomime. She shook the hand with the dice in, looking across the table at her son and giving him an encouraging smile.

But the truth was she was terrified. Emma did not have a normal life, and she had made plenty of mistakes that could come back to bite her. She had watched every member of her extended family relive a pain that was supposed to be buried and gone. They weren't exactly a normal family, but a lot of things had been forgiven and forgotten. Emma didn't look back for a reason; her heart was held together with cellophane.

She rolled the dice, watching it glide across the polished hardwood table. She watched the words flick past one by one, not sure which one would be worse, until the dice paused, balanced between two- Emotional and Physical. She could've sworn she saw Rumplestiltskin wave his hands, but there was no way to prove it, and slowly the dice fell to one side.

In the corner of her eye she saw Rumplestiltskin grin. Emotional. Fuck

She cried out when she saw Henry lying on the hospital bed.
"I can't believe this," She hissed at her son's other mother, on the other side of the bed. "You just poisoned my son,"
"My son, Ms Swan," The mayor corrected, "And I'm not the one who fed it to him,"
"You cooked the goddamn thing. I mean- magic, seriously?"

A part of her still couldn't quite believe it. If all this was true she was Snow White's daughter- which was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. However this voice in her head was largely drowned out by concern for her son. Henry looked so pale and weak lying there.
"I cooked it for you," The queen snapped.
"Oh well that makes everything fine! You don't have to poison my son- just break his heart by killing his mother!"
"I've been his mother for 10 years," Regina stood and glared at her. "You've been here for a few months. What kind of mother abandons him like you did?" Emma tried to deny that Regina was just voicing her own uncertainties. Right now was no time for self-doubt, her son needed her.
"You cooked a magic apple pie and felt safe bringing it near a ten year old boy! What sort of mother are you?" She let loose the words before she could stop them. "You convinced this boy he was crazy. You got him a fucking shrink! What sort of mother tortures her son like that?" Regina looked at Emma in shock before storming out of the room. Unwilling to leave her son, the mayor stood just outside the ward door and looked through the window. Emma could've sworn there had been tears in her eyes.

She had pushed the blame onto Regina, but if anything she just felt worse. The unbearable aching in her heart increased, because fact is she can blame Regina all she wanted; she could accuse The Mayor of not listening to their son, but if Emma had listened to him he wouldn't be dying-sleeping, whatever. Regina wasn't to blame for nearly killing him. She was.

She had lost Henry once before, but she hadn't truly been his mother then. She was just losing a faceless baby- it had hurt but she'd recovered. This was different. She had got to know her son, had grown to love him as only a mother could. He had been troubled and she had listened to him, talked to him. But she had never believed him. Regina may have not believed his stories- but neither had she. She was as bad as Regina. She was worse, because at least Regina had had something to hide.

She could shout at the other woman. But when she looked at her son, frail and motionless on a hospital bed, she couldn't shake the sickening feeling inside her. She could tell herself repeatedly this was all Regina's fault. But it wasn't. It was hers.

She was a terrible mother.

She returned to the table to find all eyes trained on her. Frozen in guilt, she could only stare at the faces around her, all studying her for a reaction. She wanted to shout and cry and scream and shake… but she couldn't She couldn't even move. She felt completely numb.

"Emma?" She saw her mother's mouth move, heard the clear voice and opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She frowned, unable to form a sentence. Every fibre of her being was focussed on vanishing this intense fear and guilt. She wasn't good enough- she never had been.

"Love?"
Hook- Killian. She met his eyes and wanted to smile at him, to reassure him that she was okay, but she just couldn't. She couldn't even breathe- the deep hollow ache in the pit of her stomach grew and grew until it threatened to consume her. She felt it approach- that wave of pure despair she had felt at the time.

"Mom!" Henry's voice came from behind her and seemed to jolt her out of her paralysis. She jumped like she had been stung and turned to her son, dying at the concern for her in his eyes. Concern she didn't deserve.
"Henry," She replied with a mumble, engulfing her son into a hug she was sure she couldn't ever break away from. She rocked him and squeezed him and ignored the tears running down her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry," She mumbled quietly so only he could hear. He didn't even ask her what for, he just held onto her harder and rubbed his hand up and down her back comfortingly.

After what felt like a lifetime, Emma broke away and kissed her son's forehead. She put her arm around him protectively and trned to the imp at the end of the table.

"The game is over," She announced, checking her watch, "And our time is up. I hope to god we never have to see you again,"
"I second that," Robin Hood added. Rumplestiltskin opened his mouth to reply- determined to have the last word- but with a bright light and a flash, his company disappeared.