This chapter was torturous to write, but it's finally ready. I hope you enjoy it, even though it's depressing at times. I eagerly await your reactions.
Regina could hardly sleep that night, even after the blonde woman sharing her bed had finally drifted off. The queen would not let herself slumber, because she knew what the morning held. Despite her efforts to remain alert, sleep finally claimed the brunette around 4 a.m.
Luckily, she is the first to wake and uses this to her advantage. Honestly, the queen had no idea how long she had been staring at the sleeping princess next to her. She only knows that it is the most comforting sight that she has ever seen, next to her sleeping boy. Without a thought in her head, the wide awake woman places a feathery kiss on the unconscious woman's forehead. When she notices the younger woman stirring, she moves her lips to join them with Emma's. The blonde woman's body responds naturally. Lips part and the kiss deepens. At that, the queen moves her right hand up to cradle Emma's face.
Easily breaking their shared kiss Regina whispers, "Hi."
The younger woman opens her heavy eyelids, adjusting to the sunlit room. "Hi," is her whispered response.
She looks even cuter when she first wakes up. Feeling compelled, Regina kisses the younger woman again, with a fire this time.
"Mmmmmm," the young woman moans her approval. "This is my new favorite way to wake up."
"You look so cute when you're sleeping," the queen admits.
"Oh, man, you need to not say stuff like that first thing in the morning or I'll never let you leave this house."
Re-attaching their lips, the blonde woman switches their positions and tops Regina. The older woman's legs instinctively part allowing Emma to settle her body weight between them.
The blonde woman begins tracing her kisses down Regina's bare torso. "I want to thank you…for last night."
Only a second before Emma passes the older woman's belly-button, Regina snaps out of her haze of pleasure. "Emma," she breathes.
Dutifully focused on the task at hand the young woman replies, "I am going to make you feel so good, Regina," and continues to trail her kisses down Regina's pelvis.
The queen feels the younger woman's mouth delicately graze her sensitive folds. "Emma, stop!" She shoots up to a seated position. Entirely embarrassed by the outburst, the queen covers her face with her hands.
A concerned blonde is immediately at the older woman's side. Gently wrapping her arms around the brunette in a show of support, Emma speaks softly. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" She wants nothing more than to comfort the breathtaking woman.
"Emma…"
"What is it?"
Meeting blue eyes, the queen makes the painful admission, "It's morning."
At the sudden unbearable realization, the younger woman desperately shakes her head in denial as tears well in her eyes. "It doesn't have to be over yet." When Regina only responds by staring blankly ahead, Emma understands the words that remain unspoken. "But, it is," she adds. Climbing out of the bed, she announces, "I should get dressed."
The blonde woman, frantically, searches for her discarded clothes as she bites back the tears that are clouding her vision and threatening to spill from her eyes.
"Damnit," the frustrated woman cries.
Alarmed, the queen inquires, "What's wrong?"
"All I have are my pajamas," the younger woman responds, referring to the crumpled mess of fabric in hand. There's no use trying to fight it anymore, she is crying.
At that, the older woman springs out of bed to console the beautiful blonde.
Before the older woman can swathe her, Emma protests, "Regina, I have to get dressed."
No, nu-uh, not like this. It doesn't end like this. Ignoring Emma's half-hearted protest, the queen envelops the emotional woman and holds her in a calming hug.
Despite her best efforts to resist, Emma involuntarily relaxes in the brunette woman's comforting embrace. She lifts her head off Regina's now wet shoulder, meeting the older woman's amorous gaze.
Impulsively, the queen kisses the object of her affection with the passion that she has always felt with her heart, but has been too afraid to communicate with words.
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Kiss me and make it seem like everything is going to be alright?"
"Everything will be alright."
"I have to get dressed."
"No you don't."
"Don't you have to go to work?"
"I'm the mayor, remember? I can do whatever the fuck I want."
The younger woman noticeably brightens. "You mean it? You're really going to stay?"
"I'd be a fool to leave when there's a gorgeous," she begins to flirt as she continues, "naked blonde in my bedroom."
Catching her bottom lip in between her teeth, the blushing blonde playfully informs, "I was getting dressed."
Subtly licking her lips, the queen whispers seductively, "I like you better this way."
The older woman's freshly moistened lips begin caressing the younger woman's. Without breaking the kiss, Regina guides her lover over to the bed and eases her onto her back. Positioning herself in between the blonde woman's parted legs she easily enters her with two fingers and begins a slow, sensuous rhythm.
As she is getting used to and enjoying the rhythm set by her lover, Emma makes a startling realization. "Shit."
The older woman doesn't register the distress in Emma's voice. She has grown accustom to her partner using profanity during sex, and on a regular basis if she is being honest.
"Shit!" Emma halts the older woman's movements.
Removing coated fingers, the puzzled woman asks, "What is it?"
Propping herself on her elbows, with wide eyes, Emma vocalizes her recent realization, "You left your car parked at the apartment last night."
The brunette's eyes mimic the younger woman's, widening to the size of quarters. "Shit."
Simultaneously, both woman are on their feet, scrambling to make themselves presentable.
Searching the walk-in closet, Emma calls back, "Regina, what are we going to do? What if someone sees? What if Henry sees?"
Joining Emma in the closet, Regina panics. "We have to get out of here fast! Take whatever fits you."
Deciding to forgo underwear and sliding on a pair of black slacks, the younger woman's worry escalates. "How did this happen?"
As she slides on a black lace bra, Regina accepts total responsibility for the unfortunate situation and admits, "I was careless." In her haste last night, she had transferred them back to her mansion using magic. The car would have taken too long.
Throwing on a light blue, well tailored, spread collar, button-up shirt, with French cuffs, Emma continues to blame herself. "I should have thought."
Slipping into a charcoal grey wrap dress with three-quarter length fitted sleeves, Regina attempts to calm the younger woman's nerves. "Emma, it's fine. I'll get you back home before anyone notices you're gone. Don't worry."
"Regina-"
Before the younger woman has a chance to finish, Regina lightly grips Emma's face with both hands. Holding her gaze, she reassures, "It's okay. We'll fix this." She captures the blonde woman's lips in a soothing kiss, guiding the younger woman back to reality. Breaking the remarkably tender kiss, Regina announces, "Everything is going to be alright."
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"What are you going to tell them?"
The two women are now outside Mary-Margaret's apartment, in Regina's parked Mercedes.
Obviously, the younger woman had given this cover-up some thought. "I'll just tell them I ran out to pick up some doughnuts." Reality hits. "Fuck. That means I need to pick up doughnuts." In a puff of purple smoke, a cardboard box appears in Regina's hand. "Regina, you're a lifesaver." The younger woman breathes a sigh of relief.
"I don't want you getting the idea that magic will solve all your problems," the older woman reminds.
"I know. I just…thank you."
When it looks like the blonde woman is moving in to kiss her, the queen becomes uncharacteristically shy. "I'd better go."
"Please don't go, Regina. I have a really bad feeling."
"What feeling?"
"I feel like something horrible is about to happen."
"Emma, nothing is going to happen," the queen tries to reassure. She absolutely hates seeing this woman upset. She attempts to remedy the situation by changing the subject. "Hey, remember how much fun we had last night?"
A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Emma's mouth as she recalls the events of the last twelve hours.
"That was pretty fun."
The queen moves from her position in the driver's seat to straddle the younger woman's lap, which consequently changes the hem of her already short skirt. Absent of concern for modesty, Regina takes the younger woman's face in both hands and kisses her deeply.
Resting her hands on the older woman's exposed thighs, the younger woman breathlessly asks, "Are you sure you're not trying to kill me?"
That question earns her a lighthearted giggle from the older woman. "You're cute," she announces adoringly.
Emma decides to flirt back. This is fun. "Well, I'm not gonna argue with that. I seem to remember you finding my cuteness irresistible."
"Speaking of, you look adorable in my clothes," she says fingering the wide, angular collar of Emma's light blue button-up shirt. The older woman appreciates how Emma has added her own personal touch to the outfit, by leaving the shirt un-tucked, the top three buttons undone, and, ignoring the French cuffs, rolling up the long sleeves to just above her elbows.
Expressing genuine concern, Emma asks, "Do you think anyone will notice?"
"Probably," the queen thoughtlessly responds. She is too preoccupied with locking lips with the stunning blonde. But, the younger woman is obviously somewhere else. Sensing Emma's anxiety, the queen reclaims the younger woman's attention. "What's the matter?"
Without meeting the older woman's questioning gaze, the blonde woman numbly responds, "Henry." Meeting brown eyes this time, Emma projects, "What if he's awake? I don't want him to get his hopes up about us."
This conversation is definitely turning into a mood killer. The older woman halfheartedly resumes her previous position in the driver's seat. "Do you think he would?"
"Yeah. I think he would."
A wave of dread rips through the older woman. She needs a distraction. Looking down to examine her fingernails, which she decides are in urgent need of manicure, Regina asks a question to which she doesn't know if there is good answer, "What are you going to tell him?"
"I don't know," is Emma's defeated answer. With her eyes shut tightly in her efforts to fight back tears, Emma makes the agonizing admission. "We're doing a really dumb thing, Regina. If this doesn't work out, we're not the only ones who could get hurt."
Why did she have to say it? "You're right."
"I don't think this should happen again," the younger woman continues. Despite her best efforts, a few tears manage to escape. The younger woman attempts to discretely wipe the tears from her eyes as she offers some consolation. "We just had one last amazing night." Grabbing the box of doughnuts off the dash, the younger woman vocalizes the inevitable. "I should go." She opens the passenger door to exit the vehicle.
Don't end it like this. It can't end like this. As soon as the younger woman steps out of the vehicle, Regina urgently calls, "Emma, wait!"
It's amazing the relief that those two simple words provide. The blonde woman quickly turns back with pleading eyes. "Yes?"
The queen is not even going to try to hide it. The thought of ending things with this woman is ripping her apart. Her whole life she had felt pressure to be who everyone else wanted her to be or thought she should be. With Emma she could finally be herself, just Regina. With Emma, there is no pretense; only freedom. "What if I'm not ready for this to be the last time?"
Emma can't dive back into the Mercedes fast enough. She gratefully captures her lover's eager lips and melts in her waiting arms. "I don't want this to be the last time," she breathlessly whispers.
Several minutes later, the queen reluctantly breaks the exceptional kiss and makes an annoyingly responsible suggestion. "You should get upstairs. They're waiting for you." Even though she made the suggestion, that still doesn't stop her from stealing a few extra kisses. It's absolute torture, but Regina severs the kiss again. "I'll call you later, I promise."
Nope, the blonde woman is not finished.
"Emma, you need to go. I'll call you later."
The younger woman manages to throw in a little whine of disapproval before admitting, "I need to see you again; soon."
Regina places one last kiss on Emma's swollen lips. "I'll call you. I owe you a shower anyway."
Okay, this is the last one. Emma kisses her lover goodbye. "Have a great day, Regina."
Okay, maybe this is the last one. "You too."
Who's counting anyway?
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An energetic teenager races down the stairs, shouting, "Grandma!"
"Henry, what is it?" The new mother is busy cooking breakfast; her daughter's favorite, pancakes.
"Mom's not here," Henry announces with enthusiasm.
Trying to reel her grandson in and keep him grounded, Mary-Margaret begins to rationalize. "Well, maybe she had to go into the station this morning."
Knowing that can't be right, Henry retorts, "But, she would've told me. It doesn't look like she slept here at all last night."
Even though the young woman knows that her grandson is right, she still tries to dissuade the boy. "I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation for her not being here."
There is only one scenario that seems logical to the observant teenager. "She's with Mom! Grandma, it worked!" He is bubbling over with excitement.
Mary-Margaret makes the all too painful realization that her grandson will be crushed if the boy's greatest wish does not come true. She attempts to quiet him, realizing that even if she can, the boy's hopes are already sky high. He will be devastated if this doesn't work out. It's best if he doesn't know the truth. "Whoa, hey, we don't know that for sure."
Henry just looks at her with pleading eyes and says, "Come on, Grandma. You know."
And, sadly, she does.
Luckily, her grandson had not looked out the window to see the familiar Mercedes parked out front.
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Several minutes later, after the excited teen had disappeared back upstairs, a flushed blonde enters the kitchen, sporting the stupidest grin. "Morning Mom," she cheerfully greets.
She knows that smile. She knows what that sheen to Emma's skin means. But, that doesn't stop Mary-Margaret from putting her daughter on the spot, "Where were you this morning?"
"I…uh…just went out to go get us some doughnuts." The blonde woman makes a point to hold up the cardboard box.
"Oh, that was very thoughtful," the brunette woman mechanically responds. "I made pancakes."
"Great, I'm starving!" The sound of Emma's heels clicking against the hard surface of the floor can be heard as she makes her way around the kitchen island to help herself to a cup of already brewed coffee.
Wait. Heels? The frustrated mother is not about to let her daughter get away that easily. "You didn't get coffee while you were out?"
"Nah." "I didn't want to have to balance that and these," she adds, making reference to the box of doughnuts.
Realizing that her daughter is digging herself deeper, Mary-Margaret decides to go with it. "Okay."
Taking a sip of her coffee like nothing is out of the ordinary, the paranoid blonde becomes uncomfortably aware of her mother's fixated stare. "What?"
"Nothing," Mary-Margaret responds. But, Emma can hear the disappointment in the woman's voice.
"I was trying to do something nice. Why are you giving me a hard time?"
"He's got his hopes up," the young mother emphatically states.
"Shit."
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"Mom!" The energetic boy throws himself into his loving mother's arms.
"Hey," she laughs, catching him. Kissing her precious boy's forehead, Emma greets, "Morning kid!"
The hopeful boy inquires, "Where were you?"
"Picking up doughnuts," she matter-of-factly answers. The young mother watches her son's face fall at this statement.
Without meeting his mother's blue eyes, Henry solemnly responds, "Oh."
"What's the matter? Don't you like doughnuts anymore?"
"I do. I just…" Making an unexpected realization, the teenager asks in regard to Emma's outfit, "Aren't those Mom's?
Realizing that her grandson has just put his unsuspecting mother in an awkward position, Mary-Margaret decides to reclaim control of the situation. "Henry, why don't you help me by setting the table?"
"Okay." Thankfully, the teenager accepts the distraction.
Noticing her mother eyeing her disapprovingly, Emma asks, "What?" She makes up another lie in hopes that her mother will accept it as an adequate explanation. "Regina was getting rid of some of her old clothes and since we wear the same size she asked me if I wanted any of them."
Not eager to get in a fight with her daughter first thing in the morning and in front of her grandson no less, Mary-Margaret accepts Emma's falsehood. "They look good on you," she genuinely admits.
"Thanks." The blonde woman tries to breathe easily, but knows all too well that she is not off the hook yet.
Attempting to regulate the conversation, Mary-Margaret asks, "Would you like to come to the park with us after breakfast?"
Emma gratefully accepts the invitation. "Sure. Yes. I could use the fresh air."
"You might want to change your shoes first," Mary-Margaret comments, with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
Of course, she couldn't get away without a snarky comment from her mother. She decides to put a stop to any further comments about her wardrobe, saying, "Yeah. I think I might go ahead and change my whole outfit too."
"Good idea," Mary-Margaret concurs exchanging a knowing look with her daughter.
Shit. That was the most awkward breakfast ever.
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Good morning, beautiful.
Regina reads the first text message from Robin.
Why does he do that? Hello.
Did you get some good sleep last night?
I really don't want have a discussion right now. Yes, I did.
I thought I'd stop by during your lunch break this afternoon.
Ugh. Why? Oh, that's very sweet.
What would you like me to bring you?
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They are seated side-by-side on the chaise lounge, sharing take-out from Granny's.
Robin breaks the awkward silence first. "I've missed you."
Taking a swig of her coffee, Regina bluntly states, "It's been less than twenty-four hours." Seriously, can't this guy take a hint?
He begins laying it on thick, "But, to me, it's been an eternity." The outpouring of this man's heart nauseates the queen. "I can't help it, Regina. I feel better when I'm near you." Why does he have to say that? "When we're apart, I feel incomplete." I need him to stop talking. Just, please, stop talking. "I know you're not ready for me to move in, but…"
What the hell is she doing?! Without thinking the brunette woman locks lips with the thief. Maybe she just wanted to silence him, she can't tell. Before she has time to figure out what prompted her, Regina feels the tie of her wrap dress being undone. She decides to go with it, not desiring to have a heartfelt discussion with this man. Those conversations are reserved for Emma. That relationship is special. This is just sex.
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"That was amazing," Robin announces, rising off the brunette woman.
The queen desperately searches her mind for rational thought as the naked man begins dressing.
Regina numbly agrees. Luckily, her dress is in a heap close by. She desires to cover herself quickly, to mask her shame. But the wrinkles only add to the shame she feels as she slides the dress up her arms.
"I am the luckiest man alive," the thief adds enthusiastically, stepping into his recently located jeans.
Listlessly retying her dress, the queen hesitantly speaks, "Robin…"
"What is it?"
I'm in love with someone else. "Nothing."
The queen cannot justify breaking this man's heart for her own happiness. She accepts defeat.
Now fully clothed, the satisfied man guides Regina off the chaise lounge to a standing position. Holding her around the waist to steady her, Robin announces, "You make it near impossible for me to leave you." He kisses her softly, but the kiss holds no meaning for the brunette woman. Breaking the kiss and petting her face, he continues, "But, I'll let you return to work. You are a very important woman." He kisses her again. "Will I see you later this evening?"
Disregarding her own feelings, the queen numbly nods her agreement.
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Although she is thoroughly disgusted with herself, that doesn't stop her from walking over to the mirror. This is one of those moments that she is beyond grateful to have magic. In an instant, she clears away the beard burn left behind on her neck and chest, eliminating any outward evidence of her recent encounter.
For more than thirty years Regina has dreamed of meeting her soul-mate. The man with the lion tattoo, sitting in a tavern, was revealed to her by pixie-dust as her happy ending. Then why is she miserable? Being with him cannot compare to being with Emma. The blonde princess who stole her heart is the only person she wants, but decides that she can never have.
In that moment, as she is lost in thought, her phone alerts her to a new text message. Immediately her mind goes to the person who had just left her office and her stomach summersaults. Please don't be Robin. Please don't be Robin.
Hi.
The queen is filled with immediate relief as she reads the welcomed message from her princess.
She always knows the right thing to say. What are you doing? The queen types back.
I'm at the park with Mom, Henry, and Neal.
Does Henry suspect anything? Please say "no."
I think he might. We have a very smart kid.
In an instant, the shame she feels is transformed into overwhelming guilt. He'll never forgive me if he finds out. He can't ever find out. You were right, Emma. What we're doing is only going to end up hurting the people we love.
Are you saying what I think you're saying?
We need to break up. Just type it.
Regina?
I'm sorry, Emma. We need to stop seeing each other.
Not surprisingly, two seconds later, her phone rings. A familiar blonde shows up on the caller id.
"Can we just talk about this?" The desperation in her voice is evident, she is crying.
Willing herself not to cry, the older woman blankly states, "I'm sorry. This has to stop, now."
"Please, no. We'll figure something out," Emma pleads.
"There is nothing to figure out. This has to stop. We made a mistake." When she doesn't receive a response, Regina adds, "Last night was the last time. I have to go."
The younger woman finds her voice, which cracks when she tries to speak. "Please don't do this. I'm not ready."
Please stop, Emma. You're making this harder. Determined to keep the tears at bay, the older woman stands her ground. "I'm sorry, Emma."
Voice trembling from violent sobs, the younger woman begs, "Please, no. Please, no."
The queen begins to break, but thankfully for her, Emma can't see her reaction. "Regina?"
"I'm sorry," she barely gets out before hanging up the phone.
She collapses onto the floor and has to sound proof the room for the desperate screams that escape her. Never had she experienced pain like this, not even when her mother murdered Daniel in front of her. No pain compared to giving up Emma Swan.
"Nooooo," the blonde woman wails.
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The normally self-possessed blonde woman, sitting on the park bench, appears alarmingly inconsolable.
Recognizing her daughter's distress, Mary-Margaret rushes to her aide, "Emma? Honey?"
At that same moment, Henry joins the pair. "Mom?"
Recognizing that her grandson's involvement will only make the already horrifying situation worse, Mary-Margaret instructs, "Henry, I need you to watch Neal."
Scared stiff, the petrified boy questions, "Grandma?"
Her patience has been replaced by the urgency to help her daughter. "Do as I say!" Exchanging her harsh tone for a kinder one, Mary-Margaret attempts to gain her daughter's trust. "Honey, talk to me. Please tell me what happened."
The grief-stricken woman only continues to cry louder in response.
"Emma, you're scaring me." Holding the shaking woman tightly in her arms, the young mother asks, "What happened?"
The devastated woman manages to squeak out an honest answer. "Help me."
Wrapping her arms around the blonde woman more securely, Mary-Margaret makes this affirmation, "I will, I promise Emma."
"I can't…breathe."
A panicked Mary-Margaret releases her hold from the younger woman and guides her to rest her head between her knees as she attempts to calm the woman with her voice, "Okay, it's alright. It's okay. You're okay."
In between sorrowful weeping, the blonde woman manages, "My heart. Is breaking."
"I need you to tell me what happened."
Calming slightly, with a mess of blonde hair and a flushed face, the blonde woman straightens up. Un-able to meet her mother's eyes, she makes a painful admission, "I'm scared."
Taking a tissue from her purse, the young mother begins blotting her treasured daughter's tear streaked face as she comforts. "Emma, I'm your mother. It's my job to love you and protect you for the rest of my life. You don't need to be afraid to tell me anything."
Meeting her mother's eyes this time, Emma confesses, "I can't tell you this."
Without hesitation, the young mother knowingly states, "It's about Regina."
Any composure the young woman had is gone instantaneously. She falls into her mother's waiting arms as fresh tears pour from her eyes.
"Emma, it's okay. What happened?"
Allowing herself to be vulnerable, the blonde woman admits what she is not yet ready to accept. "It's over."
"Oh, Emma. I'm so sorry."
She had already let herself be vulnerable; she might as well tell her mother the truth. "I love her." As she hears herself say it, she feels lighter, knowing that she is safe to share the heavy secret with a loving parent.
"I know," Mary-Margaret confesses.
Breaking the hug and straightening up to meet her mother's eyes, Emma asks, "You know?" The surprise is evident in her voice.
"I've known for a long time," she continues her confession.
Never in her wildest dreams did Emma believe that she would actually meet the parents who gave her up, let alone that they would be so accepting and supportive. "Mom," she cries, hugging her mother tighter.
"It's going to be alright. I promise." Mary-Margaret is crying now. Her long-lost child needs her and she is determined to be there for her; for whatever she needs. "We'll get through this. You don't have to face this alone."
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Later that night, David Nolan arrives home after an upsetting phone conversation with his wife.
Upon entering the apartment, he inquires, "How is she?"
Mary-Margaret is standing against the kitchen island with her arms wrapped around her middle. Without meeting her husband's eyes, she makes a painful admission. "She cried herself to sleep."
David immediately goes over to his wife to offer comfort that they both greatly need. Embracing her, he offers consolation, "Well, at least, she's sleeping."
Breaking the hug to meet her husband's eyes, Mary-Margaret asks with un-shed tears, "What are we going to do David? She's heartbroken."
At a loss for what to do, David attempts to wrap his mind around what he believes to be an un-thinkable situation. "I still can't believe that she and Regina…"
Mary-Margaret pleads with her husband, "David, she's in love."
Bracing himself against the kitchen table, the deputy lets his frustration show. "I still don't understand how that woman could do this to our little girl."
"David?" The confusion in her voice is apparent.
Turning to meet his wife's eyes, the frustrated man continues, "I thought she'd changed. But, she'll never change. She's incapable of change."
Thoroughly confused, Mary-Margaret attempts to gain some sense as to what her husband means. "What are you saying?"
Growing angrier by the minute, David explains, "She was using her. She doesn't care about Emma. She's engaged." He does his best to keep his voice down.
"Robin?"
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
"He told me."
With utter despair in her voice, Mary-Margaret begins to think out loud. "What are we going to do? She's already broken."
Tears welling in his eyes, David goes to the more masculine emotion: anger. "I tell you what I want to do. I want to go over to that witch's house and slit her throat!"
"No!" Mary-Margaret holds her husband back and keeps him from walking out the door. "David, I've seen them together. I see how Regina looks at our daughter. I can't believe that she meant to hurt her."
"You're really going to take her side?"
"I'm on my daughter's side, you know that. I'm just telling you what I see."
"You always want to see the good in people even if there is none."
"David, you're angry. You're not thinking clearly."
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Unbeknownst to her parents, Emma is awakened by the commotion downstairs.
As she reaches the last step, rubbing sleep from her blood-shot eyes, the blonde woman inquires, "What's going on?"
"Honey," a guilty Mary-Margaret responds.
Any anger, resentment, fear, or disgust that he had been feeling leaves as soon as David sets eyes on the disheveled woman. "Emma."
She doesn't know whether she should be embarrassed or fearing of her father's reaction. She responds sheepishly, "Hi, Dad."
David Nolan doesn't hesitate in wrapping his strong arms around the woman who will always be his precious little girl. Inviting his daughter to fall apart if she needs to, David reassures his princess, "It's okay. It's okay." As he listens to the sound of his daughter's hushed weeping, David reminds, "Emma, your mother and I love you and we're here for you if you need us."
Breaking the hug and recovering slightly, Emma acknowledges the reality of the situation. "So, I guess Mom told you."
"Yeah, she did."
It hits her; sometimes that just happens. She begins to cry again.
Fearing that his own tears might begin to flow any second, the charming man embraces his child again. "Shhhhh…it's okay."
"I'm sorry, Daddy," the young woman cries.
That word holds all the power. David Nolan swears in that moment that if his little girl continued to call him "Daddy" there is nothing that he wouldn't do for her. He would give her the moon if she asked. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You did nothing wrong. It's alright. It's going to be alright."
Incredibly moved by the expression of love, Mary-Margaret attempts to normalize the situation. "Honey, are you hungry? I could make you some breakfast. I know that's your favorite."
"No. I couldn't eat anything. I threw up."
"Oh, okay." Her baby is sick, now is her time to shine. "Do you want some ginger-ale?"
"Yeah, that might help," Emma gratefully accepts. "Thanks, Mom."