Three hours was gone since she explained to her parents the situation. Emma was in the same position, sitting in the couch, her legs crossed, looking ahead of her. Her parents hadn't left her side. The television was on. A documentary about deforestation was playing, but nobody really paid attention. Everybody was pretending to watch it. Has the calm voice of the narrator echoed in the living room, Mary Margaret was constantly checking her daughter. She wanted her to feel safe, happy, but she didn't know what to do. She seemed so…lost. Her only movement was her contraction and release of her stomach proving that she was still breathing. Without the small gesture, Snow would have thought she was dead. She wasn't even blinked+. She was far away, thinking about a mystery. On the other side of the couch, David was worrying too. He appreciated his daughter with all his heart, but things were difficult when she was there. The whole family dynamic was changing. She was always in and out. It feel like she didn't belong with them. He would never admit it out loud, but he liked the way things were before she came back. She was her child for sure, but was she really part of his family?
The documentary ended. It was announced that the program after it was going to be about a show named Living with the Dead. Emma never heard of it, but her instinct were telling her to close the television. That this show was going to be about something she wouldn't want to hear. Brushing some hair that had fallen on her face, she got up and put the television on off. Mary Margaret was following each of her movements with her eyes. David got bored and got up too, walking through the kitchen to get to the bedroom. He needed to rest and stop thinking about this situation. Emma took her jacket and left. Mary Margaret begun heading in the direction of the door, but it was too late. The young adult was going.
Snow was getting an impression of deja-vu. Flashbacks were rushing through her mind of Emma leaving everything behind because of the loss of Neal. Tears were coming her eyes and she couldn't stop it. She was being selfish and she knew it, but Emma really affected her when she leaft. She wanted to be glad, but she was so scared. She left her daughter two time and both time she returned more fragile. In addition, it was really hard for her. She felt like was a bad mother. She wasn't good enough to keep her only child. Was that a sign that she wasn't made to have kids? Trying to wipe her tears, she curled into the couch. She couldn't stop sobbing. All of these thoughts about being a bad mother, person, were setting into her head. She tried her best to be good to Emma, to treat with the respect and love she deserved, but she wasn't succeeding. She ended up sleeping a bit and was woken up by the door opening. Looking to see the guest, she saw Emma removing her boots. The blond girl turned and faced her mother. Emma noticed Mary Margaret had the print of the texture of the couch on her forehead proving that she was lengthen for a long it, probably sleeping. Looking further, she saw that her eyes here red and puffy like she has been crying for a long time. She seemed tormented. Emma starting panicking. She had cause this, she knew it. She tried to put a poker face but deep down, she knew she shouldn't have come. Everything she touched was broken. She was a mess. She nodded her head before walking through the stairs that was leading to her ancient bedroom and Henry's.
Talking of Henry, during her time outside, Emma decided to take a walk. She needed to stop thinking. Everything was too much. As she walked, she found herself in front of the mayor white house. She stayed there for a good couple of minutes. Just starting at the window that was separating from seeing him. But she couldn't do it. Not yet. She knew it wasn't healthy for him. She couldn't act like nothing change. She was not ready to explain to him why she left. He needed to know it wasn't because of him, she was the problem. She always was.
Back in her bedroom, Emma laid on the bed on her back, facing the cealing. Things were different now. She was different. She had broken the trust of her family. Why the fuck would Hook bring her back? She felt worse than ever before. At least, in New York, she could pretend like nothing of this ever happen. In this town, in the house, she couldn't do it. She had to face her mistakes. The only problem was that she didn't had the strength in her. She was too weak, fragile: got hurt too many time. Who am I? The only answer she could find was an orphan. She was back at it. She hated Killian for making her come back. She couldn't leave again. It was too late. She missed her chance. She was stuck here, destroying everything she touched. She couldn't see her son. She couldn't get up again. She was trouble. Always been, always be.
Having a rush of adrenaline, she got up and started hitting the shelf that contains some of Henry's favorite book. Having too much energy in her, it felt causing a big sound to echo through the whole apartment. But she couldn't stop. She continue kicking it. The wood was slowly destroying. Emma was not seeing thing straight. Everything was a blur in her mind. She wasn't controlling herself. She turned and saw the desk Henry used to do his homework on. With her arms, she pushed every furniture that was laying there. By this time, David had woken up and ran to see the cause all this noise. To say the place was mess would be a euphemism. The place was a disaster. He had never see a place that felt so broken. He looked at Emma who was still punching what was used to be a desk. Now, it was only pieces of wood like it never existed. He observed that Emma was injured. She wasn't realising it because she was lost in her world, but her knuckles were bleeding and her hands were slowly turning blue because of the blood circulation in her body. She was crying so hard that her eyes were red like blood. Mary Margaret finally came and saw that her husband was watching the disaster happening without doing anything. She looked to see her daughter. She couldn't understand what was happening but she knew she had to do something about it. Otherwise, Emma was going to kill herself. The more time passed, the more Emma was losing it. She had now moved to a wall that had a frame. It was a drawing Henry made her the first day after she came to Storybrooke. As she took it, Mary Margaret wrapped her in her arms. Emma tried to free herself but Snow had a better grip than she did. David was still in shock, not moving. Mary Margaret had to do things by herself. She stayed in that position for a while, waiting for Emma to calm down but it wasn't happening. The only solution was to bring her to the hospital. Emma was losing a lot of blood and by crying and screaming so much, she had difficulty breathing. She got up with Emma still in her arms and slowly they got down the stairs. At this point, Emma was shaking. Mary Margaret was doing her best to be present for Emma in this difficult time. They walked until they reached the hospital. Emma was still in this weird place but at least was coopering with her mother even though Snow doubted that her daughter knew who was holding her.
When they entered the hospital, doctor Whale automatically noticed something was wrong and it was a urgent situation so he took Emma on his charge and went away leaving Mary Margaret alone in the waiting room with a desperate look on her face.