Author's Note: Mama Snow and Daddy Charming feels abound. I'm not sorry. :)
Emma drew her brush away from her painting and stared at it for a moment. In keeping with the mood of the rest of her piece, she'd mixed her green a little bit darker than Killian's. Stately pines covered both their islands but where his evergreens were serene and welcoming, hers gave off a sense of foreboding.
It was crazy how a simple mistake and the course correction for that mistake could change the entire feel of a piece. She hadn't intended to create such a stormy version of what was supposed to be a peaceful scene but she was proud of it regardless.
As was Killian, apparently. When she looked up, she caught him regarding her painting with a little smile on his face. "That's wonderful, love," he murmured to her. "You've truly captured the appearance of a storm at sea just beginning to brew."
She smiled back. If anyone would be able to attest to the accuracy of her piece, it would be Killian. "Thanks." Completely satisfied now, she set her brush back into the rinse cup and sat back in her seat to let the painting dry.
Killian had stopped poking at his painting, obviously, and Snow had set her paintbrush down as well. David and Henry were still adding texture here and another tree there. Henry had even added little curved Vs in his sky to indicate sea birds flying in the distance.
They'd made quite the dent in the snacks. Some crumbs remained in the bowl of chips and there was still about half a bag of pretzels left. The popcorn was all gone, though, as were the Oreos. Out of her peripheral vision, Emma caught her mother checking on the state of the snacks as well … and shaking her head in defeated resignation.
Hey, the Oreos being gone wasn't completely Emma's fault this time. Apparently mint Oreos were Killian's new favorite junk food because he'd helped her decimate the package. "These little sandwich biscuits are ambrosia!" he'd murmured to her after she'd told him to try one.
Emma hadn't been able to stifle her amused snort. Only her pirate could make his approval of a snack sound like he was reading from the dictionary.
After a moment, Henry set his brush back in his cup to rinse. "I can't poke at it anymore," he said. "I'm afraid I'll ruin it."
Killian smiled at him. "You wouldn't ruin it, lad, but I know the feeling."
Since everyone seemed to be finished up – minus David, who was still fine-tuning the little details on his piece – Snow stood and grabbed the popcorn bowl in one hand and the empty Oreo package in the other. "Acrylics dry quickly so once everyone's done and the paintings are dry, I want to take a picture of us showing off the fruits of our labor."
Henry let out a teasing groan because heaven forbid a thirteen-year-old boy be asked to pose for a family picture without some kind of complaint, mock or otherwise. Emma and Killian, on the other hand, blinked up at Snow, and Emma was sure that the surprised and touched expression on Killian's face mirrored her own.
Emma had never been in a family picture before. Yeah, she had pictures with the members of her family and yeah, her parents had taken candid shots other people had taken of them and put them in frames but a posed family picture? Especially one showing off the results of a family activity? No, she'd never been in a family picture like that before.
Added to all that was the fact that Snow was including Killian in that family picture. Emma may not have had a family for almost three decades but Killian hadn't had one in a couple of centuries. She could tell from the slight blush on his cheeks and the small grateful smile on his lips that he was honored to be considered part of her family.
Snow gave both of them a gentle smile before heading into the kitchen to start cleaning up the remnants of their family evening snacking.
"I'll get the camera," Henry said as he pushed himself to his feet. He was the only one who had a fancy digital camera; Emma had given her parents an old point-and-shoot model of hers when Neal was born since she just used her phone now.
Henry had disappeared up the stairs when David finally set down his paintbrush; he was apparently as pleased as he was going to be with his painting. "I could sit here and adjust things for hours and still feel like I'm not finished with it," he said, a small frown pulling at his lips.
"I know that feeling as well," Killian said with an understanding nod. David graced the pirate with a smile, causing Emma to blink and wonder if she'd accidentally fallen asleep on the sofa with Killian earlier and was dreaming this whole evening.
Killian looked surprised as well but didn't draw attention to the gesture. Instead, he started to pack up the paints only to stop when Snow gently spoke up. "No, don't put them away. I don't know about everyone else but I'd like to stay at the table and work on another piece."
Once again, Emma and Killian exchanged a surprised glance. Henry bounded down the stairs then, camera in hand and excited grin on his face. "All right, free art period!"
"I'm up for it if you two are," David agreed, looking first at Killian and then at Emma.
Well, then. It seemed that her family had decided that although the art lesson was over, family time didn't need to be. "Works for me," Emma said, unable to stifle the grateful smile on her lips.
"Aye," Killian added after clearing his throat and swallowing the emotion that had welled within him. "Me as well."
David and Snow shared a smile over everyone's heads. Then, as Snow and Emma cleaned up the snacks and Henry set up the camera for picture time, David and Killian carried the cups of rinse water to the sink dump and refill for the free paint session. They carried the freshly refilled cups back to the table, where Killian gathered the used paper plates to toss and David set out fresh sheets of paper and more plates.
"Camera's ready!" Henry called after a moment.
"Good timing because the paintings should be dry by now, too," Snow said, smiling at her family.
Sure enough, they were, so everyone grabbed their pieces and headed into the living room. Henry had set the camera up facing the couch so they gathered in front of it, Killian and Emma on the left and Snow and David on the right. Once everyone was in position, Henry set the timer and dashed forward, squeezing himself into the middle of the group between Killian and David.
"Everyone hold up your pictures and say cheese!" Snow said as the blinking light on the camera counted down the seconds until the snap of the shutter.
Only Henry actually said cheese but the picture must have come out to Snow's liking because after the flash went off and Snow checked the camera, she told everyone they were all set. "I want to see!" Henry exclaimed, jogging the couple of steps over to Snow and the camera.
Emma wanted to see, too, so she followed her kid and peeked over his shoulder at the camera's display. It was a lovely picture with everyone proudly holding up their paintings. Her parents' eyes were shining with love and hers and Killian's eyes were shining with emotion.
Snow gently smiled at Emma, ran the pad of her thumb over Emma's cheek in a quick motherly gesture, and then addressed the rest of the family. "Could I please take everyone's paintings? I'll go out tomorrow to get some frames but I have an idea of where we can store them for now."
From the expression on David's face as he handed over his painting, he knew exactly what he was wife planned to do. Killian shot a perplexed look at Emma, who shrugged in response. Still, they both handed their paintings over, as did Henry.
With a gentle smile at her family, Snow walked over to the refrigerator and hung the artwork up with magnets.
The emotion that had been burgeoning within Emma rose to fever pitch. Something stirred in her heart, a confusing combination of pride and injustice, of intense joy and overwhelming sadness. The tears pricked her eyes before she could stop them and she needed to go, needed to get away, needed to be alone. Just for a minute, just long enough to get her emotions back under control. "I'll be right back," she choked out and, before anyone could stop her, darted up the metal staircase to the loft.
A year or so ago, such a sudden disappearance would have left her parents with no idea what step to take next. A year or so ago, her own walls and guards would have left her parents no real recourse but to wait her out. But that was a year or so ago.
Now, within seconds of her escape to the loft, she heard two sets of soft footsteps following her. One set of footfalls was heavier than the other, and there was no doubt in Emma's mind to whom both sets belonged.
And she was grateful and relieved when sure enough, her parents rounded the corner and peered at her in concern, identical looks of worry on their faces.
She sank down on the bed and they sat down with her, Snow on her right and David on her left. "Emma, baby, are you all right?" Snow asked gently.
"Yeah," she said, sniffling back her tears. Letting them know why she'd darted up here would only hurt them because it was one of those things in her past. One of those things she should have had but didn't and made her parents feel guilty because she didn't.
"You don't look like you're all right," David said, his tone just as gentle as his wife's. "And I really think it would help if you talked about it."
She looked up at her dad, into his eyes, and saw nothing but sincerity and love. That same sincerity and love were swimming in her mother's eyes and she realized that it was okay to let them know what was on her mind, even if it ended up making them sad, too. Because they were her parents and they loved her. Because they wanted to help heal the wounds of her past and wounds couldn't heal if they were left to fester.
And so she took a deep breath in and said, "It's just that … no one's ever put something I made up on the refrigerator before."
Pain flashed in their eyes as her words registered. Their little girl had never been celebrated. Their little girl had never been encourage. No one had ever shown her that they were proud of her. No one had made her feel special or talented by displaying the fruits of her creative labor where everyone could see.
And then the expressions on their faces changed. Gone was the anguish, the despair over the life their little girl had lived and in their place were sheer love and steely resolve. They couldn't change the past but they could help heal the past's wounds in the present. As on, her parents wrapped her in a tight hug, an effort to give her all the love and comfort she'd never had.
Emma allowed the tears to come. Tears for the little girl who didn't matter and didn't think she ever would. Tears for the little girl who'd gone through life existing but not living, trying to give love but never having that love reciprocated, trying to be noticed only to have no one notice her.
"Let it out, sweetheart," Snow was murmuring into her ear. "Let it out."
And let it out she did, for a solid five minutes. Slowly, she began to calm down. "I'm sorry," Emma whispered when her tears had dwindled to sniffles.
"No, don't be sorry," David said. "We're the ones who are sorry, kiddo. You should have been so very loved and so very cherished, and we're so sorry that you weren't."
She fidgeted in her parents' arms, prompting them to release their hold on her. She sniffled and looked first at Snow and then at David. "You shouldn't be sorry, either. I know you sent me here out of love for me. You did the only thing you could do to save me. And anyway, I'm loved and cherished now. That's what matters."
Snow dried her little girl's tears with her thumbs and cupped her cheek in her palm. Her eyes were shining with her own tears but the smile she gave her baby girl was full of love and compassion and pride. "You're more loved and more cherished than you could possibly imagine, Emma Swan."
David pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Loved and cherished always."
And as she sat in her parents' loving embrace, Emma finally allowed herself to believe it.