Hey all! Thank you to all of you – each and every one of you! You're all amazing! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)

I do not own OUAT.

"You…you what?" Snow could barely get the words out and when she finally did, they were more like a squeak than anything else. Against her will, her hand trembled around Emma's, alerting the blonde who scrutinized her with wholly different eyes than earlier. They were clearer somehow; perfect ovals of green glass. She tried again as Emma waited for her to collect herself. "You…" she gulped, "You remember? Really?"

If there was anything she had learned from the past few days, it was how to build some kind of guard around her heart – not a very good one, admittedly, but one nevertheless that filtered all of her emotion into a solid container just waiting to overflow. Now that container was bursting.

She held her breath for what felt like forever.

"I think so." Emma's voice was meek, and tired. Her gaze turned from Snow and up toward the ceiling as if she was posing some unspoken question to a higher power. The brunette noted that Charming did the same thing when set with a seemingly impossible task. It was actually kind of amazing how many similarities she could pinpoint the more time she spent with the woman. It was a universal truth: Emma never ceased to amaze her.

"But wha-how? You were only asleep. N-not even that long, actually," she stuttered, determined to keep her hands and heart steady. Yeah, she wasn't winning that battle. Thankfully, Emma didn't seem to notice. Or maybe it was because she was doing the same thing.

"I, uh, I had a dream."

"A dream?" Snow laughed, a swelling of confusion and utter relief mingling together creating some kind of incredulous chortle.

"Well, you might have had something to do with it, too," the blonde confessed sheepishly, as if still unsure what to say or do around Snow. Funnily enough, that uncertainty and vulnerability that was always there bubbling under the surface waiting to jump out but very rarely did, somehow made her love Emma more. As if that was even possible.

"And how's that?"

Emma half-smiled. "I think your bedtime stories are more powerful than you think."

Snow couldn't contain her elation any longer. Beaming like a maniac, she hopped up from the chair, still gripping her daughter's hand for dear life, and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for coming back to us," she whispered before kissing her again. Much to her chagrin, a wily tear found its way out of her eye and trickled down her face. She pulled back to wipe it away. She didn't want to cry; she didn't want to put Emma in any kind of uncomfortable situation. She was just so happy.

"Please don't cry," the woman said, visibly emotional too. The air was thick with so much affection that it was hard to believe that it was real. It was a moment that would never be able to be replicated – because it was just perfect.

"I promised myself I wouldn't cry."

"You did? Seriously, when do you not cry?"

Snow couldn't wipe the smile off her face. "Okay…that's pretty accurate. So are you going to tell me what your dream was about?" She nestled back onto the plastic chair.

"It's a really complicated mesh of things. I kept hearing your voice everywhere I went. There was a creepy dark room with a red door, and then I was your castle-"

"Our castle," Snow corrected lightly.

"Okay, our castle," Emma emphasised, seemingly happy to humour her mother, "and I was back in the apartment, watching a moment I had had with David. And then Henry showed up and started trying to cryptically explain things to me, but by then I was already remembering and…it was all very weird. I don't really know what actually happened or how things happened but it doesn't matter; I'm just so relieved to be able to start plucking out memories again. Having trouble remembering certain moments or events is way more unsettling than you think."

The blonde drifted off for a brief moment, lost in whatever thoughts rattled around her brain. In a way, Snow understood what she was saying. Though oblivious to it at the time, Mary Margaret was always looking for something, always seeking something out but never figuring out what it was. It was a constant feeling of something just being on the tip of the tongue but just as soon as it was there, it was gone and the world would keep on turning and she'd keep going on with the same routine. It wasn't until Emma Swan drove into town and walked into her classroom that fateful day that she felt this…difference. That was the only way to describe it. Nothing dramatically changed but there was this subtle shift in her psyche that drew her to Emma, that made her trust her and want to help and protect her.

It was like Emma's arrival had sparked purpose into her a life; her life, up until that point, was devoid of any real meaning. But not being able to figure out why she felt that way or why there was this nagging feeling of missing some key element in her mind was beyond frustrating which only grew the more she pushed herself to the point of almost recognition. That had happened on more than one occasion.

The first one being the first time she had seen Emma's baby blanket.

But remembering now was the best gift. "So it's all there? You remember everything?"

"I think so. I mean, I'm hazy but I'm pretty sure it's all there."

"Do you want to test it?"

Emma raised an eyebrow, turning her head completely to the side to take in the brunette's face. "You want to give me a test? You really are a schoolteacher, aren't you?"

"It could be helpful," she surmised with a quick shrug.

"Okay, so how do we do that?" The fact that he didn't automatically snap the idea in half warmed Snow's heart. If she wasn't careful the tears may reappear…

"Why don't you ask me questions about things you think happened and I'll tell you whether they did or not?"

"This sounds more complicated than I thought it would be…" Emma said, a hint of caution in her tone.

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Look, let me show you. Just ask me something after the curse was broken." She raised her arms out wide as if open to anything her daughter wanted to ask, and waited expectantly.

"Eh, okay. Did you really shoot an ogre in the eye with an arrow?"

"Yep."

"Did Cora really shape-shift?"

"Twice."

"Did I use magic to…kill her?" Emma shuddered as though exposed to an icy wind.

Snow squeezed her hand gently, forcing her to meet her eyes. "Emma, you were protecting yourself and your family. We wouldn't be home if it wasn't for you. As for Cora," she sneered her name, "who knows what happened to her? I for one wasn't going to wait around and see! I bet you anything she's still back there alive. People like her never seem to go away; they merely dissolve into the background until they see fit."

"So she's lurking in the shadows plotting her revenge?" Emma tried to make it sound like a joke but there was real fear in her expression.

Her maternal instincts immediately igniting, Snow ran her hand along Emma's hairline, brushing back little strands of hair in the process. "She can't get to us here. And even if she did, I would never let her go near you again. Ever. I will always try to keep you keep you safe. I will always protect you."

"Is that a promise?" her daughter laughed nervously, blushing under the severity of her mother's words.

Snow leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bed. "What do you think?" she winked.

She could have sworn there were tears in the blonde's eyes but she wouldn't acknowledge them. Instead, she just wanted to bask in the moment. Her daughter was back and nothing – and no one – could get in the way of that.

"I have another question…if that's okay?"

"Of course it is."

Emma took in a deep breath, squaring her jaw. "Did David…did he really leave the Christmas tree in the middle of the apartment?"

Snow couldn't contain her laugher, doubling over at her daughter's oh-so-stern delivery. "I'm afraid that is true as well! All that talk about it being different and unique when really he just couldn't lift it!"

"You've gotta admit, it wasn't normal."

"Like us?"

Emma's features softened; the lines on her face fading. "Why would we ever want to be normal?" she reasoned, "I always knew that my life wasn't normal and after spending the last twenty-eight years thinking that was the worst thing imaginable, I've finally realised that I never wanted to be normal – I wanted to belong. And now I finally do, even if it's the most screwed up thing you could think of."

"Do you ever wish it wasn't though? That it wasn't some messed up, complicated tangle of things interwoven in the most mind-bending way possible?" Snow tried to remain light and conversational but she had to ask; if she didn't it would quietly eat away at her, worsening as time passed.

The blonde sighed. "Yeah, I mean sometimes I do-"

"I understand." Snow's face crumpled and she found herself examining their hands in an effort to stay collected.

"You didn't let me finish, Mary Margaret," Emma quietly informed, ducking her head so their eyes met. "Don't you ever wish that it could all be so simple? But life isn't simple. If it was, we'd all be holding hands and skipping into the sunset while birds serenaded us. Stuff like that doesn't happen in real life." She stopped when she caught sight of the brunette's expression. "What?"

She bowed her head bashfully. "That actually has happened to me…once…"

Emma couldn't help but roll her eyes in a mixture of awe and bafflement. "Of course it has. Anyway, what I was trying to say is it's not easy, and won't be easy, but there's no way I would trade any of this. I dedicated my whole life to finding my family, and now I've finally found them. Why would I ever want to give that away?"

"You've no idea how good it is to hear you say that."

"I have an idea," she answered with a small smile.

Unable to contain her elation, Snow threw her arms around her daughter, pulling her as tight as she could as if she'd never get the chance to do it again. There was no way she was ever going to take even the tiniest moment with her family for granted. The past few days were a real eye-opener, a challenge to Snow and Charming's greatest weaknesses and they had got through it – just barely. Time was precious and Snow wasn't going to waste any more time worrying about the small things – she was going to put her family first and make sure to cherish every moment spent with them.

"So," Emma said, pulling away to lie down, "tell me about holding hands and sunsets and birdsong."

Snow's smile widened. "Wow, where do I begin?"

Emma was so enthralled by the way her mother threw herself into a story that she didn't hear the sound of evil swoop into her room until the woman cleared her throat to mark her presence.

Both Emma and Snow looked up to see Regina's authoritative pose. "Sorry to interrupt this…family time," she said, studying Mary Margaret up and down like she was an insect that needed to be squashed.

"What are you doing here, Regina?" It was clear that Mary Margaret shared the same sentiment.

"I'm here because my son called me to let me know that he was on his way to visit you and I am to bring him home afterward. Does that suffice, Snow?"

Though her tone was no different than usual, knowing the history the two women had, made Emma all the more anxious to keep the atmosphere clear. "He's not here yet," she informed.

"Yes, I can see that, Miss Swan. I suppose I'll grab a bite to eat in the canteen while I wait."

She turned on her heel to leave and Mary Margaret decidedly directed her attention back onto Emma.

"Wait, Regina," Emma declared, surprising all three of them. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Her mother's eyes expanded, her jaw pretty much dropping to the floor. She didn't say anything but she was giving her one of those 'What the hell do you think you are doing?' looks.

"Do you mind, Mary Margaret?"

Still relatively stunned, Emma squeezed the brunette's hand and Mary Margaret hesitantly stood up and exited in the room, eyeing Regina as she left. If both of them didn't look so serious, Emma may have let herself laugh.

Regina moved closer to the bed but still kept her distance. It was obvious she wasn't thrilled with this arrangement. "Well what is it you wanted to talk to me about, Miss Swan?"

"What, do I have to have a reason to talk to my step-grandmother?"

She narrowed her stare. "Nice to see you haven't lost your bite."

"I wouldn't count on that going away any time soon."

Regina crossed her arms in irritation. "Can we please get to the point here?"

What was she trying to say? Talking to Regina was not exactly on top of her list of things she liked to do, but she felt like she should do it anyway. "I just…I wanted to say…" she paused, hoping her sincerity would dapple through her usual jabber, "thank you."

"For what, exactly?" If she seemed taken aback, she sure didn't show it. Whatever aura the Evil Queen possessed, it made others feel incredibly small in her presence. Emma wasn't too familiar with that feeling.

"For saving Henry and my mom when I went a little…out of control. And for looking after Henry while I've been in here."

"Going out of control? Is that what you would call it? I'd call it being reckless," she pestered sardonically. "And for the record, I didn't save Snow. The protection spell I cast covers a certain amount of area and Snow merely happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"That's fine if that's what you want to believe."

"It's the truth."

"Look, I know that at one point in your life you did care about Mary Margaret and it makes perfect sense that you still feel the need to protect her – even if you don't see that." Emma realised she was pushing her luck but she couldn't let this line of thought go by; she had wondered about it since regaining a firmer hold on what had taken place.

She could have sworn she'd seen Regina's eyes soften slightly…

"Any consideration I had for her vanished a long time ago. She was simply in the right place, at the right time, and the spell helped her. That's all."

"Okay fine," Emma surrendered. "That's what happened."

"Are we done here now? Because I would really like to get something to eat."

"Yeah, we're done. I just wanted to say thank you."

The woman pursed her lips and looked down at her black boots. "Well…you're welcome." And with a curt nod, she scuttled out of the room without a glance backward.

Emma smirked as the stench of Regina's perfume lingered in the air. She wondered if the scent was called 'Poison'. It'd be apt in fairness.

"So you really remember everything again?"

Not long after Regina left, an excited Henry and David showed up with a curious Snow in tow. She didn't ask any questions but Emma knew there would be a conversation later. No getting out of that, unfortunately.

"So far so good," Emma replied, pushing into a seating position.

Henry, hopping onto the bed, gave her a toothy grin. "Good, 'cause I was worried you'd never remember."

"Nah, I'd never let that happen. I'm too stubborn to forget anything that important to me." She failed to mention that that was exactly what she was worried about, too. The thought of being unable to recall certain memories – especially special memories – was far too frightening to imagine. "I'm just sorry I scared you guys," she tagged on, looking at each of her family members individually.

"Well the most important thing is that you're okay now," David was quick to reassure, using the hybrid of happiness and courage as an excuse to kiss her on her forehead. She didn't mind though; the idea that her father wanted to do such a gesture brought a goofy smile to her face.

"Oh and I'm sorry about the apartment, too," she apologised shyly, still upset over destroying the only real place she ever equated with home. That feeling of safety and comfort was practically impossible for Emma to find her whole life suddenly appeared in the shape of a two-bedroomed apartment in a small town in Maine. Huh, who knew?

"It's okay, Emma. Nobody blames you," her mother comforted as she rested her head against her husband's shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Was anything…was there anything recovered?" Like my baby blanket? Hope was slim on that account. Mary Margaret hadn't brought it up which only made Emma feel worse. Sure she had her parents and her family now, but that blanket had been there for her through all of her life; it was the one thing that kept her sane when everything else around her crumbled to the ground. It was the only thing she owned that reminded her that, at some point, she was cared for; loved. She just wanted to have it around so that, if and when things got a little rough, she could hold it and everything would be okay for that moment.

"Not much," her father stated with sad eyes. Emma held back the tears, refusing to let her emotion take over. Just yet. Though, it was no easy task.

"Oh."

"But I did manage to find something I think you might be interested in." With a raise of his finger, Emma stayed silent, waiting. And hoping. The man broke his wife's hold and walked over to retrieve Henry's backpack leaning against the far wall. With a knowing smirk, David opened the bag and pulled out the single most important possession Emma owned.

She was sure her heart skipped a beat.

"What? How? Where…?" she breathed, taking the object in her hands and inspecting every inch of the soft material. She tentatively drew the blanket to her face, inhaling the scent. It was exactly how she remembered. "How was this saved? It's...it's perfect. It doesn't even smell like smoke."

"Henry had it," her father explained, nodding to the boy to elaborate.

"You did?"

Her son furrowed his brow in embarrassment. "I had it in my backpack."

"You had my baby blanket in your bag? Why?"

He bit his lip. "I wanted to have something of yours with me when I went to stay with my mom."

If she wasn't crying yet, she was now. Henry wanted to have a piece of her with him. How could her son just be so darn lovable?! She reached out and pushed his bangs out his eyes.

"I know I should have told you but I-"

"It's okay, kid. Thank you for saving this." She kissed the top of his head letting her tears drop on his hair.

Wiping away the tear stains as she moved back slowly, she turned her gaze back to her parents who looked at her with the most precious expressions she had ever known. It was like their eyes found new ways to make her feel loved with each passing day. Not that she was complaining. "So…the apartment's really gone? There's no hope for it."

Mary Margaret shook her head. "I'm afraid not." Her voice wobbled but her eyes were distant and composed.

"So where are we going to live?"

"We?" That forced the brunette's eyes to jump.

"Yeah," Emma smiled.

Mary Margaret threw her arm out in front of David, clutching a fistful of his shirt. "You mean you still want to live with us?"

Usually something like that would force Emma to curl inward and close-off, but not anymore. "That's what I've wanted for so long – to be under the same roof as my family. For now anyway. I'm not sure if I'd still feel the same way when I'm fifty," she deadpanned.

"You can stay with us as long as you want," her father replied with a wink.

"Well you guys gotta find a place first."

"Don't worry," Henry chirped. "Gramps and I already have a few places on the list."

"You do?"

"You do?" Mary Margaret repeated.

"Yep. And they all have at least three bedrooms and a big backyard."

"Okay, so why do we need a big backyard?"

"So I can play catch with Gramps!"

"And you, too, Emma," David added.

Emma laughed. "Well now I see why it's a priority. Do I get to pick out the colour-scheme for my room?" She was quite excited about the idea of decorating her room for the first time in her life. Finally she could have a room that was all hers; that was her own space.

"As long as I can have some input," her mother offered with a wry grin.

"As long as your input doesn't include pink or yellow."

"Awh, but why?"

"Because I'm twenty-eight and pink was never my colour."

The woman narrowed her eyes in mock threat. "We'll see about that."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Emma said, crossing her arms.

"I would," Henry chuckled, "nobody messes with Snow White!"

"But I'm her daughter – and nobody messes with Emma Swan," Emma noted proudly.

Nestling into her husband's torso, Mary Margaret beamed. "Then may the best woman win!"

"Oh I will," the blonde assured lightly.

Regina made an appearance not to shortly afterward but thanks to some adept persuasion on David's part, she somehow agreed to let his grandfather take him home later after they had gathered enough Intel on their choice of housing. Hey, they didn't call him Prince Charming for nothing. It was little instances like that that often made Emma wonder what her life was like before Regina was the Evil Queen.

Though Emma had insisted that Mary Margaret join them on their escapades, her mother was set on staying put. There was no swaying her; that much Emma had learned well.

As the day went on and the light gradually faded into darkness, Emma and Mary Margaret sat and just talked for hours about everything like they used to. Though both were very aware of the nature of their relationship, the easy way with which they could still talk calmed Emma. Her mother was her best friend. Her best friend was her mother.

Really for the first time, that idea didn't freak Emma out. She wasn't scared by it or confused, but so content with the situation. Mary Margaret and Snow White had previously been two separate identities but now they were one – her mother.

"So Whale said you'll be starting rehab soon?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "I'd like to see him try to get me out of this bed. The extent to which I can move is this," she said as she gestured to her seating position which was still causing her pain. Not that she'd tell her parents that. The brunette would probably go into crazy-over-protective mother mode.

"You'd be surprised. I remember when your father started rehab after his coma – he was sure he wasn't able for it, but a little encouragement went a long way."

"Let me guess: you were the one giving him the encouragement?"

Mary Margaret smirked crookedly, shaking her head. "We were cursed you know; we never did anything wrong," she defended, tossing a rolled up piece of paper at the blonde's head.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. Is it weird seeing Whale now, you know, since you guys…"

"I told you, we're past it. We were cursed."

Emma looked at her mother with understanding. "It's still weird."

The brunette pouted and closed her eyes. "I know," she groaned.

"Well if it makes you feel any better I wish I had an excuse like that for most of the guys I've…entertained over the years."

Mary Margaret sat back in her chair, interested. "You know, we've never really talked about that."

The blonde recoiled. "And we're not going to."

"Come on, can't I know at least one thing?" Oh. The puppy dog eyes. Mary Margaret's secret weapon.

"No." Emma crossed her arms and shook her head defiantly. Unfortunately, that was the best defence she had. Most definitely something to be improved upon.

"You're really going to just cut me off without telling me anything? Not even one thing?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"Because, well, because I want to know as much about you as humanly possible. You would deprave your own mother of the chance to get to know you better?"

Oh she was good.

A little bit of guilt went a long way.

Emma narrowed her eyes in chagrin. "One question – and that's it."

The brunette's smile was just a little too victorious for her liking. "There's only one thing I want to know anyway. Were you ever in love?"

"That's what you want to know?"

"That's what I want to know."

Emma sighed. No reason in lying. "Yes. I was once. But it was a long time ago." Mary Margaret opened her mouth to speak but Emma jumped in quickly. "Ah, one question. And I answered so we can drop this now."

"For now. But don't think you'll be able to get out of it so easy again," she said, pointing at her with her pointer finger.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

The brunette moved forward again, resting her arms on the mattress and lowering her chin onto her locked hands. "What about Regina? Am I allowed to ask what you guys were talking about earlier?" She was much more cautious now; almost afraid to ask.

"It was nothing, really."

"If it was nothing then how come I had to leave?" Her eyebrow raised slightly, she tried not to come across as a little put-off.

"Uh that might have had something to do with the fact that you two are sworn enemies," Emma pointed out with a small laugh.

"Okay, I guess I might see your point there. But doesn't mean that you can get away with not telling me."

She was so persistent. Emma had never met anyone who was so relentless in their pursuit. It wasn't that she constantly pressed for information, but more about how she worded things and backed-up every question with those deep green eyes of hers that could see into the depths of the soul. Who could argue with that?

"I just thanked her, that's all. No big secret."

"Thanked her for what?" The tilt of the head on cue.

"You're really going to make me say it, aren't you? I thanked her for taking care of Henry and for protecting you and Henry from my…power, or whatever. Like it or not, she's the reason why you guys were relatively unhurt. I feel sick knowing what I did to David."

"Emma, that wasn't your fault!" her mother exclaimed, shooting upward. "You have to stop beating yourself up over this! We're okay; your father is okay. What happened was an accident. You'd never intentionally hurt us."

"I shouldn't have to worry about hurting you in the first place!" she shot back.

"Emma Swan," Mary Margaret painfully emphasised, "I will not have you torture yourself with this, do you hear me? Yes, something happened but what's done is done and all we can do now is move forward. There's no point in wallowing over what has taken place and I'm not letting you fall into the pity pit. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Emma responded, taken aback by how forcefully the petite woman spoke.

"Good."

"Tough love, huh? I didn't realise it was so…effective."

"Neither did I," Mary Margaret laughed. "But it's nice to know that it is."

Despite herself, Emma yawned, feeling the pressure of the past day weigh heavily on her shoulders. She was just so tired.

"I think that's my cue to leave," the woman said, slinking her arms into her winter jacket.

"Sorry, I didn't realise how tired I was," the blonde rubbed her face vigorously with her hands.

Mary Margaret took a hand and brought it down to the bed, holding onto it tightly. "It's okay, sweetie. It's been a long day." She bent over and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "You just rest up and we'll be in to see you tomorrow."

Emma snuggled back down into her bed, enveloping herself in the blanket and watched as her mother walked towards the door. "I have one more question."

Mary Margaret stopped mid-step and turned back around to face the woman.

She took a deep breath. "Back…there, did I…did I tell you that I loved you?" She didn't need to test it; she already knew the answer.

Her mother nodded slowly.

"Well I meant it. I love you, mom."

I love you, mom.

There was nothing else – absolutely nothing else – she wanted to hear in that moment. It was like everything they had gone through as a family, all the hardship and the pain, had dissipated leaving only this in its wake. The most perfect moment Snow could have ever imagined. She could see the tears sparkle in her daughter's eyes even from across the room and she was sure Emma could see the same for her.

She didn't care if she was crying. Or sobbing. Or laughing. Or smiling. All she cared about was that Emma, her daughter, told her that she loved her; called her 'mom'. That was all she ever wanted to hear.

"I love you too, Emma."

Yay for a not-so angsty chapter for a change! Haha what did you all think? :) I want to let you guys know, as much as this makes me a little sad, that the next chapter will be the last one in this story. This story has gone in all crazy directions and there's probably a million more ways I can take it but I feel like it's the right time to let it be for a little while!

I really hope you guys liked this chapter and please let me know what you thought! :)