For the second time in under an hour, Snow asked Emma if she thought she could stand. For the second time in under an hour, Emma answered in the affirmative, and for the second time in under an hour, she pulled her hands from Snow's and tried to stand on her own.
This time, though, she probably should have let Snow help her. Halfway up, a searing headache exploded behind Emma's eyes. She sat back down hard, Killian's arms immediately wrapping around her to steady her as her own hands flew to the sides of her head.
"Emma!" her parents cried in unison.
Their voices tore through her pounding head. The ambient light in the shack was only making things worse. She squeezed her eyes closed in an effort to block out the light. "Charming, please go get the medicine out of the diaper bag," Snow instructed.
"What medicine?"
"Just check the diaper bag. You'll find it." Gentle hands came to rest on Emma's shoulders, holding her up. "Hook, will you please get her some more water?"
"Aye, milady."
Killian's comforting grip disappeared, his fingers lingering on her arm for the briefest of moments, his way of telling her he'd be right back. Across the room, Neal began to wail, most probably in response to Henry's skyrocketing anxiety level. Emma tried to tell everyone to shut up – not that poor little Neal could help it – but the only thing that escaped her lips was a whimper.
"I know, Emma," Snow said, lowering her voice to a barely audible murmur. "I'm sorry."
"Too … loud …" Emma finally managed to pant.
"I know, baby." Snow clasped her hands over Emma's and tried to gently pry them away from her face. Emma fought against it for reasons she couldn't comprehend. Holding her head hadn't eased the stabbing pain in the slightest but she didn't know what else to do and didn't want to let go. "Shh, let me help, sweetheart."
Help? Nothing could help this. This was, no lie, the worst headache Emma had ever had in her life, and that was including the jump from the damn beanstalk.
Nothing could stop a determined mother from helping her suffering child, though, and Snow somehow managed to push Emma's hands away from her temples. She placed her index fingers there instead, applying gentle pressure. Almost immediately, the pain eased from vomit-inducing to merely blinding. Emma let out a relieved moan.
Then Snow massaged Emma's temples, rubbing her index fingers in a circular motion while still applying that gentle pressure. The pain eased from blinding to simply pounding.
Emma felt herself relaxing in response. Snow must have noticed it, too, because she softly murmured, "Is that better?"
"Yeah." She chanced opening her eyes a slit. The light from the fire still bothered her but not as much as earlier. Every little sound still sent a stab of pain tearing through her head but at least she could see.
David and Killian returned then. Her father pressed two brown tablets into her palm – leave it to Snow to have packed some Advil before they left, just in case – while Killian handed her another plastic cup half-filled with water.
"Please tell me this is the same cup from before," she said to him.
The three of them shared a smirk. There Emma was, in the midst of a stabbing migraine, and her only concern was the conservation of their supplies. "It's the same one," Killian confirmed, making sure to keep his voice soft.
Satisfied, Emma tried to pull out of Snow's grip so she could take her medicine. "Uh uh, you're not going to want to do that," Snow warned. "If I let go, that pain's going to come right back."
Well, this was awkward. Since Emma had no desire to deal with that pain ever again, she washed the pills down with a gulp of water while her mother continued to massage her temples.
For a long moment, everyone sat in silence. Henry had managed to quiet Neal so the only sounds in the shack were the crackling of the fire and wind whistling outside. The soft, tender motion on Emma's temples was soothing and comforting. Despite the pain still radiating through her head, her eyes were closing of their own accord before she knew it.
She must have been dozing because David's quiet voice startled her. "We need to move her."
"I can still hear you, you know," Emma mumbled back, lifting her head and forcing her eyes open. She sent her father as sharp as glare as she could muster.
Which, to be fair, probably wasn't all that sharp, considering she was squinting against the light.
Her parents and Killian exchanged a glance that was equal parts sheepishness and mirth. "Sorry, kiddo," David said.
"He's right, though, Emma," Snow quickly added. "You need to lie down."
Emma shook her head in protest, which was one of the worst ideas she'd ever had. Stabbing pain forced her eyes shut again as her hand shot to her forehead in a meager attempt to soothe it. She groaned, which was apparently the last straw for Snow. "Charming, Hook, help her stand up."
She wanted to argue. She was an adult, for crying out loud, and she was more than capable of standing up herself. The only problem was she couldn't seem to force those words out, either. David gently gripped one of her arms while Killian grasped the other. "On three, love," Killian murmured.
He and David counted to three and slowly helped her to her feet while Snow continued to massage her temples. As soon as she was standing, Killian's hand disappeared. Slight panic that she didn't really understand forced her to open her eyes and find his.
And when he caught her eye, he seemed to understand the silent question she'd hadn't even been sure of herself. He smiled comfortingly at her while nodding towards the sheet of plywood she'd managed to conjure before … well, this had happened.
Emma finally understood what he meant to do. While her parents took care of her, he was going to take care of the window. She sent him a grateful smile, and after another gentle touch of her shoulder, he picked up the plywood and headed for the little bathroom.
"I'm going to let go now, Emma," Snow warned her softly. "Just until we get you lying down, all right?"
She almost nodded but caught herself in time. "Yeah," she said instead. "I'm ready."
Emma was mistaken; she was nowhere near ready. As soon as Snow's fingers left her temples, Emma's headache exploded again. She whimpered as she squeezed her eyes shut, hands shooting to her forehead. Soft hands guided hers to her temples, and Emma immediately understood what Snow wanted her to do. Mimicking her mother's motion, Emma pressed her fingers into her own temples to keep the pain under control until Snow could take back over.
Which was honestly something she should have figured out herself and probably would have were her brain not trying to dig its way out of her skull.
She was panting heavily by the time her mother and father walked her over to the bed. She sat hard on the edge and gentle hands guided her towards the pillows. As soon as her head hit the pillow, the headache eased at least somewhat, and a moment later, Snow resumed the gentle massage.
"How'd you learn how to do this?" Emma asked drowsily, forcing her eyes open.
Snow had settled next to her, and David had eased down on the edge of the mattress by her knees. The adult within her was more than a little embarrassed that her parents were flanking her like this, but the lost little girl within her was jumping for joy at finally having this at all and wanted nothing more than to bask in it.
The conflict was far too much for her aching head so the little girl ended up getting her way. Without even realizing she was doing it, she shifted closer to Snow, cuddling up to her mom like the lost little girl within her had longed to do her entire life.
"I learned this from Regina, believe it or not," Snow told her softly. "She used to do this for me whenever I had a headache, and I started doing it for her when she had one. She used to get terrible headaches when she was first leaning how to use magic. At the time, I didn't know why she would get them, of course, but this was the only way I could ease the pain for her until she could sleep it off."
"She used to do it for me, too," Henry added, his voice just as soft as Snow's. He'd apparently been unable to hold in his concern any longer because he'd crossed the room with a squirming Neal in his arms and approached the bed. When Emma gave him as big of a welcoming smile as she could muster, he sat down at the foot of the bed. David reached over and took Neal from him, hoping to calm the baby completely. "I'd get headaches after reading a lot and she'd rub my head like that until I fell asleep."
"That was really nice of her," Emma murmured, her eyes fluttering closed. Sleeping it off sounded wonderful, but she couldn't, not quite yet. She forced her eyes open again and turned to her mother, something she'd said finally clicking. "You think this is magic-related?"
"I'd put money on it," Snow replied. "The good thing is if it is, the headaches should go away once you get a better handle on your magic."
So she could expect more of these, then? Fantastic. "Did Regina's go away?"
"I believe so, after a time. All I remember is that her need for this treatment became less and less frequent until finally she didn't need it at all."
"Mmm."
"This is why I didn't want you overdoing it," Snow whispered, injecting her voice with a hint of teasing.
Despite her throbbing head, Emma smirked. "Duly noted."
David had finally managed to soothe Neal, so he felt comfortable shifting a little closer to his ailing baby girl. Henry curled up with his head on Emma's legs and Snow continued to massage her stubborn daughter's temples. And lying here, with her family surrounding her, Emma had never felt more loved or more safe.
A moment later, Killian emerged from the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him. A smile curled on his lips when he spotted the family cuddled up together on the bed. He approached them with good news, though he, too, kept his voice soft out of deference to Emma's headache. "The window's patched."
"How'd you secure it?" Emma asked. She hadn't managed to conjure a hammer or nails and suffice it to say, she was in no shape to do so now.
"I lined the sill with objects from around the shack to use as weights. Unless a really strong gust of wind comes along, that wood isn't going anywhere."
"Smart idea."
"I didn't sail the open seas for a couple of centuries without learning how to patch holes, love."
She smiled at the teasing tone of his voice. The news of the patched window was apparently what she'd been waiting for because this time when her eyes drifted closed, she didn't fight it.
The Advil had finally begun to kick in, which meant the headache finally starting to ease, really ease. Henry pushed himself up off her legs, kissed her cheek, and whispered, "I love you, Mom. Feel better." When she sleepily returned the sentiment, he climbed off the bed to let her fall asleep in peace.
Killian ran a gentle thumb along her forehead and murmured, "Sleep, love." Then he, too, stepped away; Emma could hear him starting a conversation with Henry as they crossed the room.
Snow and David remained, taking advantage of this quiet little moment to take care of their daughter. Just as she was drifting off, she felt her mother stop the massage. Acting on an instinct Emma couldn't comprehend, she grasped Snow's hand. "Don't go."
The words were a surprise to even her half-asleep brain. Emma the little girl was still in control, apparently.
Her parents both gasped softly. Clearly she'd surprised them, too. "We're not going anywhere, sweetheart," Snow assured her.
David added, "We're going to stay right here until you fall asleep, all right?"
"'Mm-hmm."
True to her word, they both stayed. David sat on the edge of the bed by his daughter's knees, and Snow kept her baby girl's hand within her grasp. Emma allowed herself to relax, basking in the comfort of her mother's thumb running back and forth over the back of her hand and the ease of her father's closeness, until sleep claimed her.