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I do not own OUAT.
The clatter of cutlery awakened Emma who, at some point, must have fallen asleep on the couch though she had zero recollection of even contemplating the idea of sleep. She brought her hands up to her face to cover her eyes from the dazzling light of the room and let out a mumbled groan. Her head was spinning as if she hadn't slept at all and her chest ached terribly like there was some dead weight pressing on it.
"Emma?" The blonde heard her mother's voice from across the room, quickly noting the relief in her tone. Footsteps got louder as the woman obviously got closer but Emma wasn't ready to remove her shield for the moment; the light would only make her even woozier than she already was. "Look at me, are you okay?"
That order was hard to ignore. There was nothing she could do but comply; Mary Margaret was dangerously close to physically removing her hands from her face. She didn't need to see her to know that that was the next course of action.
Reluctantly she brought her hands down and laid them across her abdomen, exhaling slowly. "Hey," she said groggily despite interjecting her best smile.
"Are you okay?" The brunette crinkled her forehead and her green eyes were nothing but glasses of concern. With one hand she grabbed onto one of Emma's wrists, forcing her look directly at her while using her other to cradle the side of her daughter's face.
"Yeah, I think so. I mean I'm still a little tired but I'm sure I'll be okay in a few minutes." The woman had no idea why her mother appeared so apprehensive or why her father was hovering around them both like he was anticipating being called in for some kind of armed duty.
Emma's nonchalance seemed to confuse Mary Margaret. Leaning in over her, she placed the back of her hand onto Emma's forehead testing its temperature. "You don't remember what happened?"
What was she talking about? "Remember what?"
David moved behind her mother's frame, putting his hands on his wife's shoulders, moving them up and down her arms. "You passed out when Snow was in the shower." He sounded upset but it was obvious that he was using every ounce of strength he had to hold it all in - for her sake, no doubt - and Emma was more than grateful for that, but she honestly had no clue about anything they were talking about. Her vision was swimming and sounds were muffled but she assumed another hour of slumber would probably sort that right out.
"I did?" Beginning to question herself and panic at the memory loss, she struggled upright, latching onto a pillow and wrenching it against her chest to keep her heart in place. It felt as though it would explode at any given moment. Although, what a fluffy green pillow would do she wasn't sure but she felt better knowing it was there. "But we were talking right here?" she directed to her father who had taken a seat at the edge of the coffee table facing her. The pain in her chest intensified with each passing second and with each meeting of her mother's stare.
"We were," he confirmed, "and then you said something about going to get a glass of water. But as soon as you got to your feet you crumpled onto the floor…and didn't get back up. It all happened so fast; I didn't know what to do. You were just on the ground, not moving, and my first instinct was to pick you up into my arms, call your mother and make sure you were still breathing." His voice cracked as he finished and Emma shifted uncomfortably under the sudden change in atmosphere in the once euphoric apartment. What was earlier a place of overjoy was now a place drowning in a sea of worry.
"You came around not even a minute later but it was the longest minute of our lives, Emma," Mary Margaret added, rubbing circles around Emma's knuckles. "You said you just needed to sleep and that'd you'd be fine once you rested. I didn't have time to argue before you dozed off. I can't even count the times I checked to see if your heart was still…there." She shuddered away a thought and held onto the blonde tighter as if that would scare away the demons. Though, Emma automatically knew what Mary Margaret was shaking off – Cora.
"23," David clarified with a humourless laugh. Mary Margaret gaped at him with wide eyes. "I was watching you; and I was checking, too."
"I don't remember any of that," the blonde confessed, pressing a hand to her heart in an attempt to dull the throb.
"I warned you that magic would take a lot out of you and that taking things easy was the only solution but you insisted that you would be fine; but Emma, you need to rest. It's imperative that you rebuild your strength, otherwise your body won't be able to function normally."
Emma's gaze flashed to David whose grin was slowly creeping towards his eyes. "You heard?" she asked referring to her magical powers. Huh; she sounded like a witch.
"Your mother filled me in on everything- the battle with Cora, you saving Snow and your friends, and you using your power to get back home to us. And I couldn't be more proud of you, Emma. I always had complete faith that you would be nothing short of brilliant from the moment I held you in my arms." He meant each and every word that left his mouth and lingered in the air.
What could she say back to that? Receiving compliments wasn't something she was too good at. Probably because she never really got them. If anything, her praises being sung made her awkward and uncomfortable; she didn't feel like anything special and yet she was that and so much more in the eyes of her parents. Which was just…crazy. They hardly knew her but they believed in her and in what she could achieve.
Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted from her heart and Emma jerked forward, her long blonde hair billowing forward and covering her face and in doing so, hiding the agony she was in. A starving whimper escaped her lips and Emma clenched her teeth together so that no more followed that lead.
Her parents jumped to their feet immediately, their concern personified by their trembling hands as they reached for the blonde to offer any comfort they could. "Emma! Emma, what's wrong?" her mother yelped in distress.
There was nothing they could do; at least nothing Emma was aware of. It's not like she could take an asprin or sleep it off. "Nothing," she responded when the pain had subsided to a more tolerable ache. "Nothing, it's okay. My heart's just a little tender from my little encounter with Cora; it'll be fine." She didn't want to make a big deal out of it because doing that only confirmed that it was a big deal. An evil woman had had her hand around her heart and tried ever so hard to rip it from her chest – yeah, that was just too weird and terrifying to even think about it. Emma even had a nightmare about it earlier - most likely after her passing out/waking up moment - and she couldn't see them dying down any time soon. But she'd never tell her parents that. Especially not Mary Margaret; she had enough on her plate what with Emma passing out and having a heart that enjoyed randomly testing her pain limitations. There was no need to add to her already mounting stress.
"You can't just say that what just happened was nothing," her mother snapped with irritation and fear. "That is a serious problem that we have to solve."
"I don't think it can be solved. I think it's something I have to just ride out until eventually the pain just goes away. It doesn't hurt all the time; just at particular moments."
"Emma," her mother started as sternly as she could, narrowing her glare which was way more intimidating than she probably expected it to be. Emma cowered into the sofa, breaking the lock.
"Look, I admit it hurts but only sometimes, okay?" She had to appease; the worried glances between man and wife were becoming more and more frequent. "I mean, it takes a while to get over trauma like that so please don't make a big deal out of it. I just want a glass of water and catch up on some sleep. I didn't really get much of that in the forest. You know how it is, ogres and such." She felt like a child who had to defend everything they did. Sat on the couch with the pillow nestling just below her neck, Emma realised what it was finally like to have parents who double-checked every detail and picked up on subtle nuances and phrases – it was like they could see right through her into her soul. Creepy in one way but having people that actually cared was so comforting. More so than she ever imagined.
"I'll get you a drink," David offered, getting off the coffee table. He stood before her wearing a conflicted expression: raised eyebrow, wrinkled forehead, quirked corner of lip. She had the same expression. Making a silent decision, he reached over and gently placed a tentative hand on top of her head much like when they reunited the very first time in the middle of the street. But though there was still a beautiful timidity, he seemed more sure of the movement. Like he knew that she wouldn't shy away from the gesture and that spurred a new bravery within him. That much was noticeable in the way he held himself – so self-assured, so confident, so regal. Emma smiled at the action.
He traced his hand from the crown of her head down the side of her face, finishing at her chin and flashed a tender grin before leaving for the kitchen.
Not one for basking in the moment, Mary Margaret leaned hurriedly towards the blonde. "Don't you ever scare us like that again, do you understand? You have absolutely no idea what was going through my mind when I laid my eyes on you; I thought my heart was about to explode. Next time you feel weak or sick or your heart hurts tell us," she whispered heatedly, her two hands cupping Emma's angled elbows. She could see the tears burning the back of her eyes but Emma knew those weren't tears of frustration or anger but tears of love and that knowledge was so poignant that she believed she'd fall into big blubbering mess right in front of her own mother.
"I promise I'll try."
David returned and set down the glass on the table. Sensing he was in the way, he left for the stairs, calling Henry's name.
"I guess that's all I can ask for," Mary Margaret snickered. "Now, you should get some sleep. Here," she removed the pillow from Emma's grasp and planted it at the end of the couch, "lie down there and I'll fetch your baby blanket."
"I'm big enough to sleep in my own room, aren't I?" Emma joked, doing exactly what the brunette suggested in the process.
"Of course but I need to keep an eye on you and what better place than down here? Next to the kitchen, dining area and my bedroom?" She ambled over to a chest of drawers in her room, opened the middle drawer and retrieved the blanket that Emma had kept through every good and bad situation in her life. That blanket was a symbol of hope; a sign that someone, somewhere had loved her at one point. That was all the motivation she ever needed when times got too tough to handle…which was a lot of the time.
Too tried to conjure up a snarky come-back, Emma willingly closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly as Mary Margaret laid the blanket over the top of her frame and pressed a quick kiss on her head.
She must have been feeling daring.
Snow was anxious. She sat by the counter in the kitchen and watched as David prepared one of his famous hot chocolates – he was the best at making them. He was the one who started the trend and the only one who could make the perfect cup. To him, hot chocolate was an art form that had to be perfected. He loved to take his time and experiment with new methods and Snow loved to watch him work; his fluid movement around the kitchen and ease with which he prepared one steaming mug was something to be admired. Plus, he was easy on the eyes which greatly added to her enjoyment.
But Charming hated cinnamon. Snow could never understand that…
Yet this time was different. Snow couldn't relax or settle for any length of time; her eyes keep darting over to her daughter who lay so peacefully on the couch and who, even if only for a moment, was escaping the pain and weariness that plagued her. Snow knew she'd be okay – no, there wasn't a slither of doubt in her mind about that, but that didn't stop her imagination running away and conjuring up more and more horrible visions of what the blonde was going through. Emma was tough, and masked every single emotion that threatened to breach security. However, Snow was her mom and that meant she was qualified in all things Emma-related. And of course being her best friend first gave her a slight advantage; the upper hand. The blonde couldn't hide forever; eventually she'd have to face it all.
And when she was ready, Snow would be there. Always. Hand in hand.
"You're doing it again," David commented with an amused sigh as he stirred her beverage slowly.
The brunette snapped around in the chair. "Doing what?" she probed sheepishly.
"You know what. You've been checking over there every time you think I'm not looking. Snow, she's going to be okay. She's…she's Emma." He stopped and slid the cup over to his wife, his hand lingering on the handle. "And, she's just as stubborn as we are so there's no way she's letting this slow her down."
"She went through something extremely traumatic and now has to live through the pain that that will leave on her, not to mention the readjustment she'll have to do when it comes to her magical ability. It's not like she, or we, for that matter, can avoid and pretend it isn't there." She was getting riled up with anxiety now; the stress becoming far too overwhelming for her first day back home.
Charming scuttled around to Snow and held her frame in his arms to calm her down. His heart thumping rhythmically, she started to feel her breathing steady and her adrenaline wane and she was thankful that her husband was so easily able to meet her needs even when she didn't recognise them herself. He was always perceptive like that. She circled his waist and clasped her hands together, never wanting to break away from his warm body. Everything made so much more sense in that position. "You're right; we can't ignore it. But I don't think it's going to a problem. I have no doubt that the change will be scary and daunting, but Emma will find a way through it and we'll be there each step of the way. We just have to take each day as it comes and be grateful for the opportunity we have to face it all together as a family."
His words could quiet even the most tumultuous of souls and his passion and sincerity were unmatched and unseen in this world. No one else could make her see the light at the end of the tunnel like he could. His vision was so pure, so clear-cut and so attainable.
Snow's vision, on the other hand, was a bit more muddled. "But what about Regina? I mean, we came through the portal today and still nobody else knows we're home yet. I can't imagine she'd be too thrilled when she finds out that we're back in her life again."
"Actually, I don't think she'll be a problem." Snow angled her neck so as to see his face. Charming continued. "She promised Henry that she was going to be better; to do better. No magic, no meddling. Henry can stay here with us as long as they can organise set times to see each other and I've got to say…she's really trying. I mean, I didn't believe that she'd keep the promise but I think she really wants to change and be a better mother to the boy. I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."
Regina without magic? That didn't sound like the Regina she knew.
"But what-"
David cut her off with a sweet peck on the lips. "Not now, Snow. You need to sleep; you've had an eventful day, too. Don't worry; I'll make sure we take turns checking up on her. Besides we'll all need our energy for tomorrow." He broke away from her but kept one of her hands in his.
"What's tomorrow?"
Charming beamed widely. "Tomorrow we decorate the apartment for Christmas."
"Were we gone that long?"
He kissed her with more passion this time. "Yeah, you were," he whispered.
"Sorry," Snow remarked with a soft chuckle, "we were a little busy."
He took her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. "I'll let you say goodnight." He swiftly kissed her cheek and strode out of the area toward the bedroom.
She tiptoed over to her daughter's sleeping figure and fixed the end of the blanket so that it covered the small of her back. "Goodnight, Emma," she said before kissing her forehead…and inspecting her breathing pattern. Happy with what she found, she turned off the lamp and headed straight to bed hoping that the nightmares would stay away.
I really hope you all enjoyed this one! I have a few ideas of where I would like to take the story if you guys aren't bored with it yet and still want to read more, so please do let me know what you would all like! Has it become boring? Should I have ended it after they returned home? These are the questions I ask myself all the time! Haha anyway, I sincerely do hope you liked this chapter and I look forward to hearing what you all thought! :)