"Oh" Mary Margaret barely glanced up from her tea making when the blonde slipped back into the apartment, her tone cold and withdrawn. "I thought you'd left."

"Mary Margaret-"

"But I couldn't tell for sure because you didn't bother to say goodbye. Do you remember when I left? When I ran? What you said to me?" Her voice grated against Emma's nerves. Whatever goodness the homely schoolteacher possessed that had drawn her in had begun to sour as Emma tired of the self-righteousness the other woman exuded. It was becoming exhausting to live up to her moral standards. Emma clenched her jaw and bared it though as Mary Margaret continued to scold her like a child.

"You said we have to stick together. That we're like family."

A small amount of guilt ebbed into her conscious, knowing she should not have left without a word. But when one was trying to illegally escape into the night with her son it was best not to announce it. She sighed, "You're right. I shouldn't have left."

Especially since Henry had begged to go back to his house. Her heart burned painfully with ashamed heat realizing how close she had been to taking a young boy away from his mother. Despite whatever had gone down between her and Regina she could never escape the fact that the infuriating woman was still his mother. He said they needed to stay to save the town and though he still acted in rebellion against his mom, Emma could hear the fear in his voice. Fear from the prospect of being taken from his real mother who was definitely not Emma.

"You're right you shouldn't have! So why, after everything did you just go?" The normally docile woman raised her voice and the pain in Emma's chest flared into anger.

"I don't want to be Sheriff. I don't want people relying on me! I never wanted any of this!" This wasn't necessarily true. She'd found a lot of satisfaction acting as the sheriff, even excelled at it against all odds. But in the moment she felt so overwhelmed, Emma wanted to refuse it all. She hadn't noticed how far she had been drug down the rabbit hole. Looking back on her life, she tried to see the light of day, she tried to see Boston and whatever bit of normalcy she had made for herself there but it seemed so far gone. Now all she saw was cozy evenings with Mary Margaret, and paperwork at the Sheriff's station, and Henry's lopsided smile, and Regina and the maddening desire to kiss her. Everything tunneled around her making it feel like it was all going to collapse.

"And what about Henry?"

Emma met the glare from her roommate with her own defiant stare. She knew her actions were wrong but part of her wouldn't regret trying to be with her son and make him happy, "I took him with me."

"You abducted him?" Mary Margaret asked incredulously. Her arms folded across her chest in clear condemnation.

It was an ugly word that gave Emma pause. She would shoulder the responsibility of her actions but not to Mary Margaret, not right now, "Maybe."

"You don't want anyone to rely on you but you took your son?" She kept twisting the knife. "Now that sounds like a stable home for him. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I just want what is best for him."

"And running is what's best for him? Or is that what's best for you?" Her tone flipped from upright resentment to a slightly softer I'm-not-mad-just-disappointed tone, "You're reverting Emma, to the person you were before you got here. I thought you changed."

"Well you thought wrong." Emma snapped. She'd had enough of this lecture. "You don't know me Mary Margaret. You don't know what it's like to have to give up the one thing you love more than anything to the system that chewed you up and spit you out and hope that he has it better. Because I couldn't be a mother when I never had one."

"Emma-"

"No, I thought I was doing what was best for Henry. I didn't track him down and try to steal him away. He came to me. I thought that he wanted this… clearly I misread the situation." The heavy feeling of rejection hung around her neck like an old friend. She nearly whispered in resignation, "I didn't ask for any of this. And you have no right to stand there and pass judgment on me like you're the white queen."

Emma's words hung in the air as Mary Margaret left them unanswered for the moment. Tension still hovered in the space between them, bulky and irresolvable. The pixie-haired woman holding on tight to her anger and Emma resolutely unapologetic for herself and growing more resentful of Mary Margaret's disapproval by the moment. Her companion cleared her throat, "Well what are you planning on doing now?"

The blonde only knew one thing, "I'm planning on doing what I set out to do. Whatever is best for Henry."

"And what's that?"

Emma turned her back on the other woman, mumbling, "I'll know after I shower."