Neal spent the rest of the evening playing board games with Henry, shooting occasional glances at Emma, and more wary ones at David. Emma and her mother had taken him aside to impress upon him he was not allowed to threaten their guest, so he'd better contain his 'Papa Charming' over-protectiveness. Despite this, he was still occasionally shooting dirty looks at Neal when he thought they weren't looking, and Neal was well aware of them.

After dinner, Emma pulled Mary Margaret aside and dragged her upstairs. She desperately needed to talk to her best friend. Once she had her alone though she didn't know what to say, so for a while they just sat on the bed, Mary Margaret watching her expectantly. When it became clear that Emma didn't know where to start, Mary Margaret prompted her.

"So… it's been a pretty intense day."

Emma gave a short laugh and nodded.

"That's a good word for it."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"I mean, about what Neal said?" Mary Margaret prodded gently.

Emma went quiet again, and fixed her eyes on the ground.

"He loves me."

"Do you love him?"

Emma heaved a deep sigh and covered her face with hands and slumped until her elbows rested on her knees. She tried to take a breath in but suddenly she was crying uncontrollably. Mary Margaret quickly pulled her into her lap and hugged her tight.

"I guess that's a yes, huh?"

Emma made a noise that was possibly a laugh getting caught up in sob before continuing to cry even harder.

"Being a grown up sucks," Emma said emphatically, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I know," said her mother, her voice full of sympathy.

"Being a grown up in a kid's body is even worse."

"I know," Snow repeated, and pressed a kiss against Emma's little head. "We'll figure out soon. It'll be okay."

"Mary Margaret?" Emma queried after a pause.

"Mmm?"

"Are you rocking me?"

"No?"

"Mary Margaret."

"Oh, shh. Indulge your mother for a minute, won't you?"

"Oh, go ahead," Emma sighed. Nobody was watching this time, at least.

Her mother continued to rock her until she stopped crying. Emma noticed that at some point she had started humming something. It was a pretty tune that she'd never heard before. Emma wondered if it was from her mother's land. Maybe if she'd grown up with her, it would have been as familiar to her now as her baby blanket.

"I love you so much," Snow whispered.

"I love you too, Mom," Emma responded."Thank-you for... you know."

"Anytime, Em," her mother said with slight catch in her voice. "Anytime."