Little accidents
Margarita asked for a oneshot of Neal wetting the bed and Emma teasing him. He then gets his revenge on her. I've made Emma twelve for this and Neal nine.
"Really?" A voice sneered. Neal froze. His heart sank, he thought he was going to get away with it.
"Shut up." He mumbled, embarrassed. Emma giggled cruelly.
"Neal wet the bed. Neal wet the bed." She said in a sing song voice. Poor Neal's face went scarlet.
"Like you never." He hissed. "Mom made me promise never to mention it." Emma rolled her eyes.
"You're a little liar. I haven't wet the bed since I was a baby. So what do that make you? Aww, wittle baby Neal." Neal desperately wanted to yell at her to shut up. To punch her so hard she cried. But if he did he'd wake mom and dad, and he didn't want them to know too. Instead he turned around and walked towards the bathroom, his sheets trailing behind him. He heard Emma giggle again before going into her room, probably to go back to sleep. As Neal turned the tap of the bath on an idea hit him. A mischievous smile spread across his face. His sister was going to taste her own medicine.
Once Neal had cleaned both himself and his bed sheets up, he got the currently clean and disinfected sick bucket out from under the sink. He slowly filled it with luke warm water. He crept down the hall and peeked his head into his sister's room. Sure enough, she'd fallen back asleep. Slowly, he tiptoed across her room and placed the bucket beside her. Very, very carefully he placed her hand into the bucket. Emma only stirred slightly, but did not wake. Neal let out a small sigh of relief before tiptoeing back out and to his own room. He set his little alarm to go off at half five. That would give him time to take the bucket back. He grabbed some fresh sheets from his wardrobe and re-made his bed, settling back down in it with a smile. He looked forward to the next morning.
"Emma, sweetie." A soft voice called, coming into the room. Snow made sure she was extra gentle waking her daughter now. She was fast approaching her teen years, and it was not helping her mood in the mornings. Snow heard a small groan, letting her know her daughter was coming to. She was about to ask Emma what she wanted for breakfast when she heard a small gasp. "Emma, what's wrong?" Snow asked, alarmed. "Have you hurt yourself?" Emma shook her head, sitting up in the bed, shaking her head.
"N-no. I'm fine." Emma stammered. "I'll be out in a minute." Worried, Snow didn't leave. She came closer with the intent of taking Emma's temperature, but instead the smell hit her. Emma could tell she had been rumbled. "I don't know what happened!" She said, panicked. It was then Emma spied her little brother standing at the doorway. "You." She snarled. "You had something to do with this, didn't you?" She yelled, about to pounce for him. Snow gently held Emma back whilst turned round and also seeing Neal.
"Neal, away you go to breakfast, now." She ordered.
"Yes mom." He said smugly, walking away with a smile on his face. He'd won this round.