Author's Note: I feel like I haven't said it in a while: you guys rock. :)

The first thing Emma became aware of was that she was cold. Not just a little chilly, either, but accidentally-left-the-AC-on-high cold. Groaning softly, she pulled the blanket covering her tighter around her shoulders and drew her knees to her chest. The cold abated at least somewhat, which allowed the exhaustion still weighing down her body to start pulling her back under again.

"Is she all right?" a soft voice asked, drawing Emma back from the brink of sleep.

"Yes," another voice whispered in return. "She's just stirring."

Then she felt a light tug on the blanket. Someone was adjusting the thing so that it covered her lower body completely. A startled Emma's eyes snapped open and she came face-to-face with her equally startled mother. "What're you doing?" Emma asked, though it came out as a groggy mumble rather than the indignant huff it had been in her head.

"I'm sorry," Snow replied, cringing slightly. "You're shivering; I was trying to help."

She was shivering. A glance under the blanket revealed that goosebumps had broken out on her arms. She tried to sit up only to have Snow do her fluttering-overprotective-mom thing and place her hands on her daughter's shoulders, lightly holding her down. "Take it slow, Emma. How are you feeling?"

How was she feeling? She was tired and confused and cold. How the hell else was she supposed to be feeling?

And then she remembered why she was so tired: pushing herself to poof the plywood into existence, the dizziness, the godawful headache.

Speaking of which, the migraine had blissfully faded while she slept. A dull ache still remained in her right temple but it was much more bearable than the stabbing, blinding pain from before.

Compared to how she was feeling before her nap, Emma felt like a million bucks. "I'm okay," she replied, though she was still somewhat out of it. "Better than before, at any rate."

Snow let out a breath of relief as she removed her hands from Emma's shoulders. Just when Emma thought she was free from Snow's Overprotective Mom mode, Snow placed her hand on the small of her back, helping her sit up. The blanket fell, pooling around Emma's waist and causing another shudder to creep down her spine.

Before she had the chance to gather the blanket and drape it around her shoulders, David did it for her. Only then did she realize that he was still there, too, sitting in the same spot as when she fell asleep, on the edge of the bed by her legs.

Next to her on the other side lay her baby brother in his car seat, bundled up and napping as well. Neal hadn't been asleep when she lay down. He'd been nestled in their father's arms, calm and gurgling contendedly. The car seat had been all the way across the room. That meant …

She looked up at her parents, light dawning and a familiar conflict brewing within her. "Did you two stay here the whole time I was asleep?"

"Yes," her parents answered in unison.

Inside her, the war between an independent adult and a lost little girl raged. The adult thought it was kind of ridiculous that the two of them had sat there with her for … however the hell long she was out but the little girl who'd longed for the attention and comfort was leaping for joy. The adult was embarrassed – especially now that she vaguely recalled asking them to stay – while the little girl had no desire to let the affection go.

Emma had had every intention of letting the adult remain in control and telling her parents that sitting with her the entire time hadn't been at all necessary, but what came out of her mouth surprised all three of them. "Why?"

She blinked. Why had she asked that? Both the adult and the little girl understood: they'd stayed because she'd asked them to stay.

Pain flashed into both Snow's and David's eyes, pain and longing and anguish. Emma immediately wished she could take back the question.

But then Emma recognized that the pain in their eyes didn't come from her question. No, it came from the reason she'd had to ask her question in the first place. Her question had come from a place of not understanding why anyone would want to sit with her while she was sick … because no one ever had. Snow took her hands, and David rested a hand on her knee. "Because we love you," he said.

Such a simple statement but so complex a notion. They hadn't stayed, as she'd thought, because she'd asked. Not completely, anyway. That was part of it, but as much as they'd stayed for her, they'd also stayed for them. They'd stayed because they'd already missed so much time with her and they didn't want to miss any more. They'd stayed because she was their daughter and they'd stayed because they loved her.

And damn it all if that didn't send tears to Emma's eyes. "Thanks," she said, trying to keep the emotional tremor out of her voice. "For sitting with me, I mean."

"You're very welcome, sweetheart," Snow replied.

The next sentence slipped from Emma's mouth before she had a chance to stop it. "And for the rest of it, too."

Thank you for taking care of me, she meant.

Thank you for loving me, she meant.

Tears welled in both her parents' eyes. They briefly exchanged a glance, and in a move that couldn't have been more synchronized if they'd planned it, they both leaned forward and wrapped her in a hug. Her mom's arms wrapped around her, nose nestling in her baby girl's hair. Her dad's palm braced the back of her head, holding her close.

Conflict raged inside her once again. The independent adult long to fight against their grip but the little girl had waited twenty-nine long years for this. She'd waited twenty-nine long years for her mom and dad to hold her, for her mom and dad to love her.

Before Emma knew it, she was holding them back, one arm wrapping around Snow while the other gripped David. With an ease that could only from the now joyous, no-longer-lost little girl, she nestled her chin on David's shoulder.

She heard both of them inhale softly, their surprise evident. As one, their grips around her tightened. "Oh, my princess," Snow murmured into her ear, making the tears in Emma's eyes spill over.

She knew now what she'd been unable to see before her trip through time: Storybrooke was her forever home. Her parents were her forever home, and the little girl, who'd given up hope of ever finding her forever home, couldn't have been more thrilled.

And, if she was being honest, neither could the independent adult.

For a long moment, Emma let her parents hold her. She stayed in their arms until, finally, the independent adult managed to wrest control back from the little girl. She pulled out of the hug, smiling somewhat sheepishly at her parents.

They smiled back and, thankfully, knew not to push it any further. After another squeeze of her hand from Snow and a drying of her tears with the side of his thumb from David, they got up off the bed. David helped Emma stand while Snow lifted a stirring Neal up out of the car seat before he could begin to fuss.

It was only after getting out from under the blanket that Emma understood why she'd been so cold earlier. The air temperature in the shack had dropped considerably in the time she'd been asleep. "How long was I out?" she asked, her eyes darting to the window.

She'd been asleep long enough for the sun to start setting, at any rate. The sky outside was colored with deep oranges and pinks and purples as the sun edged toward the horizon.

"Just under an hour," Snow told her.

Emma winced. A lot had changed in just under an hour.

She glanced across the room, searching for her pirate and her kid. They'd both abandoned whatever activity they'd decided to occupy themselves with while she napped and were huddled in front of the fireplace. Poor Henry looked as cold as she felt.

Sighing, she gathered the blanket from the bed, crossed the room, and handed it to Henry. "Here, kid."

"Thanks, Mom," he said as he gratefully wrapped the heavy blanket around his shoulders. "Are you feeling better?"

"I am, thanks."

"Good." He smiled at her, then looked over at Killian. "Do you want to share the blanket?"

"No, lad," Killian chuckled. "I'm all right, thank you." Then, after meeting first Emma's eyes and then her parents' over her shoulder, he murmured something to Henry that Emma couldn't hear and stood to join her and her parents across the room.

Now – hopefully out of Henry's earshot – the four of them could convene what felt like their hundredth processing summit of the day.

Emma heaved a sigh, looking at all three of them in the dying afternoon light. "This isn't working."

Snow and David shared a glance, one of those looks in which a hundred sentences' worth of communication were exchanged without either of them uttering a word. "It's fine," Snow said after a moment, forcing a smile for her daughter's benefit. "We just need to stoke the fire a bit."

Emma frowned at her mother. The fire was as stoked as it was going to get. "You are aware that your voice gets a little tight when you're trying to sugarcoat something, right? I'm not a little kid. I know this isn't working."

Again, her parents exchanged a glance, though they included Killian in this one. Emma's frown deepened. Now her pirate was able to think-talk with her parents? She didn't think she liked that. At all.

Eventually, David sighed, his eyes closing against the inevitable. Killian swallowed hard and looked Emma in the eye. "The temperature outside is dropping faster than the fire can keep up with, love."

"A shack like this wasn't made to guard against the elements for an extended period of time," Snow tried to explain. "It's shelter and it's certainly better than nothing but … it's not insulated."

Emma's own eyes closed, just like her father's had moments ago. Of course the shack wasn't insulated. Of course. Because what else could freakin' go wrong today? No insulation meant that not only was there nothing from stopping the frigid air outside from leaking in, there was also nothing to stop the small amount of heat they were able to generate from escaping into the frozen night.

"So what do we do?" she asked, opening her eyes. "Try to find somewhere else to hunker down for the night?"

"No," David insisted. "We don't know where the next closest shelter is, and it's only going to get colder as the sun goes down. The last thing we all need is to get trapped outside. We may not be as warm as we'd like here but like Snow said, it's shelter and it's better than nothing."

Emma sighed. He had a point. "Do you know if we're any closer to getting out of here? I know the access roads in the woods aren't usually plowed but short of the foot and a half of snow out there melting enough for us to drive over it, that's the only way we're leaving."

"Grumpy and Red are working on it but as you can imagine, the town's a mess right now. They've got the Dwarfs plowing out countless people who are stuck in places with no heat whatsoever."

She nodded, her shoulders slumping. Damn, this whole thing was a freakin' nightmare.

"There's an extra blanket in your car, Gramma," Henry spoke up from across the room. Emma cringed; how much had he heard? Hopefully not much. She'd been trying to keep him from finding out how serious their situation was. "I saw it when I got the cooler out. There are other things, too. Bottles of water and extra sweatshirts in case we go to a restaurant or store or something that's cold."

Snow smiled, her eyes widening in realization. "He's right! I knew I had the blanket but I'd forgotten about the spare sweaters! There should also be some snacks in the tote on the floor of the back seat. It's my emergency stash."

Despite the entire situation, a smirk tugged at Emma's lips. Only Snow would have an emergency snack stash in the car. Then again, in Emma's fake memories of when Henry was little, she'd always kept a couple of snacks in the Bug, just in case he started complaining of hunger while they were driving.

Maybe it was a mom thing.

Still, the supplies in the car didn't exactly help them in the shack. "If we could get to the car, we wouldn't need to stay here," she reminded them.

"One of us could go to the vessel, gather the supplies, and bring them back here," Killian spoke up, his voice soft. He again looked her in the eye, and all of a sudden, Emma's heart dropped into her stomach.

He wanted to go. He wanted to traipse over a half mile through eighteen inches of dense, heavy snow to get the stuff from the car and bring it back.

"No!" she cried. "There's a foot and a half of snow on the ground and it's freezing out! You'll have frostbite before you even get there, never mind having to turn around and come back with everything."

"I could go with him–" David offered.

"You're not dressed for it, mate," Killian interrupted, indicating David's jeans and plaid button-down.

"And you are?" Emma retorted.

"The leather will keep me warmer than his denim will keep him."

Emma shook her head. "No one needs to leave. I can get the stuff without going anywhere. I know where it is; it won't be as hard as creating something out of nothing–"

All three of them interrupted her with a forceful, "No." Emma blinked in surprise.

"You're not up for it, love," Killian said gently. "You're exhausted. One can tell that just by looking at you. You need to build your energy reserve back up before you try anything else. We're not having you pass out again or suffer from another migraine – or worse – if there's no need for it."

"And I'm not letting you go out there if there's no need for it. I can–"

"No, Swan, you can't. Not after exerting yourself so much already."

She set her shoulders, glaring at her pirate. "Well, if I can't magic the stuff here, then I'm going with you."

Again, all three of them protested. "You're not up for a half-mile walk through a foot and a half of snow, either, Emma," Snow said gently.

Just as Emma opened her mouth to insist that she was going with Killian, come hell or high water, the pirate himself said, "Despite our better judgment, we let you try earlier, and you were right. What you wanted to do worked. Now you need to let us try what we want to do and have the faith in us that this will work, too. I'm most warmly dressed of all of us. You have to let me go."

Emma tore her eyes from Killian's and looked over at her parents instead. Certainty was written across their features, certainty that this would work, certainty that Killian would succeed. She shut her eyes, her shoulders once again slumping in defeat. His heavy leathers would keep him warm enough on the trek, she supposed, but the thought of him going out into the tundra all by himself …

She opened her eyes when he rested his good hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "I'll be fine, love," he murmured into her ear, out of earshot of her parents. "I promise I will come back to you."

In his eyes she saw nothing but sincerity. Nothing but honesty. Nothing but certainty. He would fight like hell to get back to her. Hell, he already had. He'd crossed realms to get back to her. Surely he could handle a half-mile round trip in the snow.

Though her apprehension was still making her heart pound in her chest, she nodded. "Okay." However, she wasn't done. Just like her father had done for her, she was only allowing this on her terms.

Hopefully Killian would prove to be a better listener than she was herself.

She pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket before turning to Henry. "Kid, where's your phone?"

Henry threw the blanket off his shoulders, picked up his phone, and ran it over to his mother. She took it, found herself in his contacts, and pressed send. As soon as the call connected, she answered it on her phone with a slide of her finger and held the device out to Killian. "I'm allowing this on one condition: we stay in constant communication. You're going to be talking to me from the second you step out that door until the second you come back, do you understand me? Because the instant you stop talking, I am coming out to find you."

"Understood, love," he said solemnly. He slipped the device from her hand and kissed the side of her head, making her eyes close against sudden tears. Then, with a comforting smile, he let her go and headed for the door.

As soon as he stepped away, Snow and David flanked her, Snow's free arm snaking around her shoulders while David ran his hand up and down her back. Maybe it was simply the lost little girl once again asserting herself but Emma was surprised to find herself leaning into her mother's side as she watched her pirate slip out the door of the shack and into the dusky, snow-covered world on the other side.