Chapter Twelve

Snow was still up and waiting, impatiently, when David brought Emma and Regina home. She stood across the room, with her arms crossed and her lips pursed as David ushered the girls inside. Emma tried to duck out and run upstairs, but Snow stepped over to block the way.

"What in the hell do you think you were doing?" she asked, in a harsh whisper. Emma could tell she was pissed, but it was hard to take her seriously when she was speaking in such a hushed voice, to avoid waking Henry and Neal. Emma tried to hide her smirk, but memories of kissing Regina mixed with the currently look of anger on Snow's face – which somehow looked hilarious to Emma - was too much.

"I went out," Emma shrugged, unable to stifle the little giggle at the end. She was pretty sure the rum that was hitting her now wasn't helping the situation, either.

"You snuck out," Snow corrected. "I was worried sick about you!"

"Why?" Emma asked, "I can take care of myself."

"You're sixteen!" Snow reminded her.

"Yeah, exactly, sixteen. Not six. I've run away from five homes since I was thirteen. I've spent weeks on my own before. I think I can handle a few hours in a quiet town like Storybrooke," Emma scoffed.

"Have you been drinking?" Snow asked, catching the hint of rum on Emma's breath.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You seriously wanna lecture me on my life choices right now, Mom? You put a new born infant in a fucking tree for crying out loud. I guess bad decisions are genetic."

Snow's eyes shot up to meet David's. "I had to," he mouthed to her in the dim light.

"Emma," Snow said, her tone softening.

"Don't bother," Emma said, pushing past her to run up the stairs.

Regina stood awkwardly, watching Emma until she reached the top, and then looking back at Snow with wary eyes, awaiting the punishment that she was sure was about to be doled out upon her.

"Go," Snow said, shaking her head and stepping out of the way completely so Regina could follow Emma up. Snow walked over to David and put her hand on his chest. "What are we going to do?"

"Remember what Granny said, she's not going to be like this forever. Remember, she grows into an adult that loves us," David reminded her.

"But what about in the meantime? We can't just let her run amok through Storybrooke. But she hates us. How are we supposed to control her acting out without giving her more ammunition to use against us? We can't punish her."

"She doesn't hate us," David insisted. "If she did, she wouldn't care enough to get this upset. She's just scared and she's got all her defenses up."

"So, what do we do?" Snow asked, again.

"I'm not sure," David admitted.

Upstairs, Emma and Regina sat on the bed in the mostly dark room, inches from each other, but not touching. Even without the physical contact, Emma could still feel the magic flowing between them.

"My mother used to use magic to restrain me when I disobeyed her," Regina said, breaking the silence they had shared since they came upstairs.

Emma turned to look at her. Even in the dark, Emma could see that Regina was far, far away, lost in her memory. "What do you mean, restrain?"

"She would use anything that was around, like rope or leather straps or even tree branches, and use her magic to wrap it around me so tight I couldn't move or even breathe. On more than one occasion, she squeezed me so tight I broke a rib," Regina said, her voice shaking.

Emma cringed, imagining what that would have been like. "You didn't break a rib. She broke your rib," she corrected.

Regina turned to face her, her eyes wide. "Is there a difference?"

Emma nodded. "Yeah, a big one. It's not just something that happened, it's something she did to you. It's called abuse and, no offense, but your mother sounds like a psychopath."

"I'm sorry I keep telling you that your mother is kind to you. My mother hurt me in a lot of ways, but your parents hurt you, too," Regina acknowledged. "I thought I had to love my mother just because she was my mother and that's what good daughters are supposed to do. I never fought back."

"How could you? She had magic that could break your bones. You were smart not to fight back."

Regina smiled, but shook her head, sadly. "I'm not smart."

Emma sighed and put an arm around her, pulling her close, strengthening the tingling magic between them. "Yes, you are," she said, as Regina let her head fall onto Emma's shoulder. "And both of us might have screwed up lives but we have each other now, and we make each other stronger."

"How can you believe that your parents put you in that tree, but not believe that I became evil?" Regina asked.

"I have met a lot of horrible people in my life, Regina, and you are not one of them. Maybe you did make terrible choices along down the road, but… evil? I just can't believe that. Everyone sees what they want to see, and just because that's how David saw you, doesn't mean that's how you were. I mean, he said you spent years trying to kill my mother, and yet, she seems to love you, so how can I believe it?"

Regina nodded, and breathed a sigh of relief. "My biggest fear has always been that I would turn out like my mother."

Emma nodded, but remained silent for a while, just holding Regina and thinking about everything that had happened over the past couple days. She was used to living in a whirlwind of changes – new places, new people – but this was so different than anything she'd ever experienced.

"Those people," she said, finally, "my parents… I can see that they care about me, but… I don't know how to deal with that."

"What do you mean?"

"Most people in my life don't care. Foster families treat me like a meal ticket, and nothing is ever permanent. When I was little, every time I went to a new home and met new parents, I would think, 'this is it. If I'm really good, this is the family that will keep me.' And I would try so, so hard, to be the perfect little girl. But every family sent me back, in the end."

Emma paused, and shuddered at the memories of childhood loss and disappointment, before continuing. "When I got older, I realized no one was ever going to want me, and it was easier to reject them first. I never let myself get attached to anyone, because no one ever stayed. The first person to care about me, was Lily, but she turned out to be a liar and she hurt me so bad. Then there was Ingrid, the first foster mother to ever care about me, and she even wanted to adopt me, but she turned out to be insane and tried to kill me."

"Emma, I'm so sorry," Regina said, softly, no really quite sure what she could say to help right now.

Emma nodded. "It's okay. By the time I even met Ingrid, I was already labelled as a 'runner', because I would run away from homes. I let my guard down with her, and I got hurt, again. I decided I was just better off alone, and I swore I would never let myself get close to anyone again. But then, I met you."

Regina stiffened nervously for a moment, realizing the weight of what Emma had just said. "How do you know I won't hurt you, too?"

"I don't," Emma confessed, "I just really hope you won't."

"I don't want to," Regina said, "but if what David said is true-"

Emma cut Regina off with another kiss. It caught Regina by surprise, but she relaxed the moment she felt that magic pouring between them again, warm and comforting and reassuring.

"I never knew this is what it would feel like," Regina said, when they finally broke their lips free from one another.

"It's never felt like this with anyone else," Emma said. "I've never kissed anyone I really liked before."

"You like me?" Regina asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah," Emma admitted, feeling her cheeks flush a little. She was glad for the darkness in the room at that moment.

"I think I like you, too," Regina said, smiling.

"You think?"

"Well, I've never liked someone before, I don't know what it's supposed to feel like," Regina explained, with a nervous laugh.

Emma smiled, and yawned. "It's late. We should get some sleep before we get carted off to Tinker Bell in the morning," she said. Regina nodded, and they both slid under the covers. In the dark, Emma reached out for Regina's hand, and held it as they both drifted off to sleep.

Not surprisingly, Regina was already up and dressed and downstairs when Henry came to wake up Emma. Emma groaned and swatted at him blindly as he shook her shoulders.

"Emma! Seriously, you have to get up now," Henry said, exasperated.

"There is literally no reason I have to get up," Emma whined, "like, I could just stay here and sleep all day and it wouldn't matter at all."

"Maybe if you slept all night instead of sneaking out, you wouldn't be so tired," Henry pointed out.

Emma finally opened her eyes. "You knew about that?"

"I heard grandpa on the phone when Cody's dad called," Henry said, as Emma sat up and rubbed her eyes with her palms.

Cody, she cringed. She had almost forgotten about that asshole.

"Is he a friend of yours? Cody?" Emma asked.

Henry shook his head. "I know him from school, but we're not friends."

"Good. Because he's an idiot. And anything he says to you about me is a lie, got it?" Emma asked, realizing for the first time that her actions from the night before might have an effect on Henry, in the form of getting teased at school by the boy who kissed his mother the night before. She wasn't used to having to worry about the effect her actions would have on anyone but herself.

"Ok, fine," Henry agreed. "But it's seriously time to get up."

"Yes, yes, mustn't keep Tinker Bell waiting," Emma laughed.

"Uh, I think they're gonna make you stay with Granny today," Henry said.

"What? Why?" Emma cried.

"Because they don't think Tink is doing a great job of keeping an eye on you. And Granny has experience with out of control teenagers."

"I am not out of control. I am in complete control, just not theirs," Emma pointed out, as she finally crawled out of bed. "I guess, as long as I have to stay here though, I can have a nap on the couch later."

"There's the optimist Emma we all know and love," Henry teased, as he followed her down the stairs.

Snow nervously flitted about in the kitchen, trying to look busy, and Emma guessed she was trying to avoid the awkwardness of the morning after a fight with her daughter. David was nowhere around, and Emma guessed he must have gone into work early. Regina sat at the table, picking at her toast, and looking oddly nervous herself.

Emma slid into the chair across from her. "What's wrong?"

Before Regina could answer, Snow stepped into the room, handing Emma her breakfast. "We've decided that you're going to stay here with Granny today, while Regina goes with Tink."

"We?" Emma asked, looking at Regina again, before looking back at Snow. "We who? You and Regina?"

"We as in your father and myself," Snow corrected.

"Why do I have to stay and Regina gets to go?"

"We think it would be good for you two to spend some time apart," Snow said.

"No, you just don't want me to rub off on your precious Regina anymore," Emma said, crossing her arms defiantly. She looked at Regina again, who looked visibly hurt by the comment. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," she said.

"She's not rubbing off on me," Regina said, softly.

"This is bullshit," Emma insisted. "We don't want to spend time apart. It's not fair."

"It's only for a few hours, and I think it will be good for both of you. And the decision is final, Emma," Snow said, just as Granny entered the apartment.

Emma slouched down in her chair, fighting back the tears that were stinging at the corners of her eyes. She didn't say another word as Snow ushered Henry and Regina out the door, she just continued to sit, not eating, while Granny went about fussing over Neal.

"Are you just going to sit there all day pouting like a petulant child?" Granny asked, after quite some time had passed.

Emma glanced up to see her standing, leaning against the kitchen island, arms folded over her chest. She might be an old woman, but Emma could tell she had zero tolerance. "I'm not a child," Emma said.

"Well, you could have fooled me," Granny retorted.

"What the hell is your problem?" Emma snapped at her.

Granny crossed the room and sat down at the chair across from her, where Regina had been sitting earlier. "I'm not the one with the problem, child, you are."

"Yeah, I've got a ton of them, actually," Emma agreed, "that's why I'm so fucked up."

"First of all, you will not use profanity in my presence," Granny said, in a hard tone. Emma wasn't used to taking orders, but something in Granny's eyes told Emma she was absolutely not to be trifled with, and there would be no pushing of buttons with this one. "Second of all, there is nothing wrong with you. You're just reacting to the situation you're in the best way you know how."

"If it's the best way, then why am I in trouble?"

"The best way and the best way you know how are two very different things," Granny pointed out. "You don't know how to react properly to any situation, and that's your biggest problem. You make everything worse for yourself."

"Everything already is worse," Emma said, "I'm living with the parents who abandoned me, how much worse can it get?"

"They saved you," Granny corrected.

"What would you know about it," Emma grumbled, looking away.

"I was there," Granny explained, "who do you think knitted that little white baby blanket of yours?"

Emma's eyes snapped back onto Granny's. "I still have that," she said.

Granny smiled. "Good. I'm glad it meant something to you," she said, reaching a hand out to place on top of Emma's. "But here's the thing, child. Everyone is so concerned with Regina right now. They are worried about how she's going to react to all of this when it's over, and rightfully so. Regina has been through hell and back in her life, and she doesn't always react wisely. You, the adult you, somehow managed to outgrow a lot of this irrational, self-destructive tendency that you have right now, but Regina, she grows right into it."

"No one's worried about you," Granny continued, "because they're sure the adult you will handle this just fine. And you will. You'll smile and laugh it off and apologize to your parents for being so hard on them, but that's the problem, child. Deep down, you're going to be left with this deep regret because all you've ever wanted is your parents, and you're pushing them away right now. You're not doing your adult self any favours right now."

Emma looked down at the table again, trying to understand exactly what Granny was telling her. "It's not exactly an easy situation," she said.

"No, child, it's not. But you're not making it any easier," Granny pointed out.

"So, what am I supposed to do? Just forget about everything? Act like it's all okay, like they never sent me away?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all," Granny said, shaking her head. "Your abandonment issues are something you will likely struggle with, your whole life. What I'm saying is, let them be your parents. You don't have to forgive them, until you're ready, but I know you want a mother and father to love you and hug you and care for you. You always have, haven't you? Well, child, they're here, now, and you have the chance to take it. Don't waste it."

Emma nodded, slowly. "I'm not sure I'm ready," she admitted.

"That may be true, but you also don't know how much time you have left at this age. I don't want to see you add this time to the list of regrets you carry with you, child. It's already weighing you down."

"Okay," Emma said, "I'll think about it. Thank you."

"Where do you think you're going?" Granny asked, as Emma got up to leave the table.

"I'm gonna go watch TV," Emma said.

"Oh, no. I heard about what you pulled last night. You are not off the hook just because we had a heart to heart. Come on, there are dishes to be done," Granny said, as she headed to the kitchen.

Emma scowled as she picked up her plate from the table and followed Granny into the kitchen.

Sometime after lunch, after Granny had run Emma ragged with chores all morning, she finally let the teenager have a break. After letting her nap on the couch for nearly an hour, Granny came and woke Emma up, and promptly handed Neal to her.

"What, now I gotta babysit?" Emma asked, holding Neal awkwardly as Granny sat down beside her.

"No, child, this isn't a punishment," Granny said, helping Emma reposition Neal into a more comfortable place on her lap. "You did a satisfactory job on all your chores this morning, and with minimal grumbling, so I'd say your punishment is over."

"So why do I have to hold the baby then?" Emma asked, barely looking at him.

"I don't expect you to bond with your parents overnight," Granny began to explain, "but this baby is your brother. He's your flesh and blood and he's never done anything to hurt or betray you, so I thought he might be a good stepping stone."

Emma turned and looked at Neal. He smiled up at her, and she couldn't help but smile back. "My brother," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She had had no interest in the child her parents had decided to keep, before this moment. In fact, she had silently resented him from the moment she knew he existed.

"When I was really little," Emma said, turning back to Granny, "I would wait for the day that my parents would show up and claim me. It never occurred to me that it wouldn't happen. When I got older, I started to wonder why they would have ever given me up. I started to think that maybe they were very young, and maybe my dad had left the moment he found out my mom was pregnant. Maybe she was sixteen and her parents kicked her out and she had no job and no place to go and she was scared and alone."

Granny nodded, urging Emma to continue.

"When I got here, and I saw that my dad had never left, and that my parents were actually still together, and married, with a brand new baby, it just… it hurt worse than anything. Why did they keep him and throw me away? I mean, David told me about the curse and all that yesterday but… it still hurts."

"I can understand that, child. But you should know, they weren't together when you actually found them. And Neal didn't come along until later."

Emma nodded. "I'm sure the adult me understands that, but I don't have her memories right now. I just have mine, and I can only react in my way."

"I know, child. Baby steps."

Emma nodded, and turned her attention back to Neal. His eyes looked like hers and when he smiled again, she couldn't help but feel a connection to him.

My brother, Emma thought to herself, my actual family.

The concept was starting to feel a little less foreign than it did before.