Several of you asked for a second chapter with Mama Snow so here that is. I apologize for any mistakes, I'm currently battling a severe case of bronchitis but I wanted to get this out to you guys without making you wait any longer. Thank you all for your kind reviews.

Emma awoke abruptly to the sounds of her little brother's screams; she immediately brought her hands to her ears and curled into a ball as if to hide from the noise. Snow's hand lay on her back for a second as she murmured a quiet apology before scrambling across the bed to fetch her son from his portable crib. Thankfully the boy quieted quickly in his mother's embrace and Snow settled back against Emma's headboard with the little prince in her embrace as he fed; the mother switched her son to one arm and with her free one she brushed the hair back out of Emma's face. Now wide awake, Emma rolled over to face her mother but kept her body as compact as possible. "Hey there," Snow greeted her quietly. "How's the world feel?"

"Not as loud," Emma replied softly. "Still not quite right but better than earlier."

She nodded as she pushed the hair back from her daughter's face. "Would a shower help, ya think?"

"No!" Emma pulled an awful face. "God, wet hair on my back. No. Not right now. I can't."

"It's okay," Snow told her softly. "It was just a suggestion. Is there anything I can do to help? Are you getting hungry?"

"This might sound weird," Emma's voice was soft, barely more than a whisper and nearly lost to the queen. "But... Never mind. It's too weird."

"Emma," Snow's voice carried a tone Emma had never heard in her direction; it carried the same kind of motherly desperation that was usually reserved for her brother during his three in the morning crying jags for no reason. "If I can help you, I will do it. No matter how weird it sounds. No matter how much you think it might bother me."

"When I was little," she explained. "I was on state funded insurance and it covered therapies and things I needed medically because I was a foster kid. One of the things one of my therapist gave me is this weighted blanket that helped calm me down. It got lost at some point during all the moving and my insurance wouldn't cover a new one because I was really okay without it by then. But I still... Weight helps. On my back."

"Okay."

"Do you think... After little bro is done eating... Do you think you could maybe lay across my back?" Emma cringed; it sounded so weird and she knew it. For years she had been told to just get over it, to deal with it, that she was a spoiled brat and she wasn't getting special attention just because her day felt off kilter. Worst of all was when she got told it was in her own head and the one family that had tried to correct it out of her.

"I can do that." Snow glanced down at her son to note that he was slowly falling back to sleep after spending most of the night wide awake with a crying jag that would not end. She glanced over at Emma and offered her daughter a warm smile while she took her in; she knew it was exhausting Emma to let her and Charming in but that it was vitally important that they know how to help her through these moments instead of their daughter pulling in on herself.

Once the little prince let go of his mother, fully ensconced in a post meal snooze, she edged him away from her body and quickly transferred him back to the crib at the end of his sister's bed before fastening her shirt up and glancing at Emma who had rolled onto her stomach and clutched her blanket close to her face. Snow sighed and quickly moved to cover her daughter's back with her torso, her chin coming to rest against Emma's shoulders and her cold fingers pressing to the nape of Emma's neck like David had said he'd seen her do earlier that morning.

"Emma," Snow spoke quietly in her ear. "My love, you've got nothing to be ashamed of. There is nothing in this world or any other that I would not do for you and your brother. Whatever you need that I can give you... name it and it's yours, understand?"

"Ma," she croaked with a voice laden with tears. So often the woman was guarded, not letting her emotions be exposed, but with her senses in overdrive and the safety of her mother's embrace she seemed to be opening up. "I... You believe it's real, right?"

"Of course I do," Snow told her. "Honey, once your dad told me about it... It was like all your little nuances clicked. You handle it so well but it explained some mannerisms that never quite added up before. Of course it's real, Emma, and we'll help you deal with it however we can."

"So many families... They thought I was making it up," she sniffled. "Thought it was all in my head or that I was looking for attention and they'd try to correct me for it."

The queen frowned deeply and she tightened her hold on Emma. "Corrected you?"

"Spankings and things of the sort," she explained.

"Emma, no..." Sometimes Snow White hated this world and the cruelty it had inflicted upon her daughter for just being who she was. "Emma... I am so sorry for whatever those people put you through but this is real and I know it, Emma. I believe you. This is real and you live with it every day. I know it's true."

"Thank you." The tears fell freely from Emma's eyes and she buried her face in her pillow; she didn't know if she was crying more for the memories of the way she had been treated or for having a mother who believed her and loved her and would do anything to keep her safe.

"I love you," Snow promised and pushed a kiss hard beneath Emma's ear.

Emma canted into the touch and breathed out slowly, trusting her mother's words. "I love you too, mama koala."

Snow laughed. "I suppose that fits."