Author's Note: First of all, there is indeed a Supernatural reference in this chapter. Phrases from TV shows, especially ones I find amusing, have a way of infiltrating my vocabulary. ;) Second of all, thank you so much for all your kind reviews and for your follows and favorites on this story. I'm still completely blown away by your response to this little (*eyes word count* heh, "little") tale of mine. (Seriously, the review count on this thing is nutsy, and I adore it. :)) I can only hope that I've given you at least half the enjoyment that you've given me.

Emma was happy to report that her second morning in the hospital was far more peaceful than her first. No coughing fits, only a couple of small, not-at-all-wracking coughs here and there. No ridiculously high fever. No wheezing, although her breathing still became slightly labored after talking a lot. And no nightmares, though that was owing mostly to the fact that she absolutely refused to fall asleep, no matter how exhausted she still was. She'd spent the better part of the past couple of days asleep, and the lost time was beginning to bother her.

If it was this disconcerting to miss most of the last couple of days, how in the hell did her parents and everyone else in Storybrooke handle missing twenty-eight whole years? Ugh.

Anyway, since she refused to fall asleep, she needed something to keep herself occupied, so she engaged her family in activities. Not strenuous activities, obviously, because she was still pretty much confined to her hospital bed, but plenty of games of Go Fish and Old Maid were had. Unfortunately, there were only so many rounds of Go Fish and Old Maid one could play, and the family began to grow bored of the games. Henry suggested Spit, which Snow vetoed after a glance at Emma. "It's only a two-player game, Henry," she'd said, although Emma somehow knew the real reason she'd denied the game was because it was too fast-paced for the hospital patient.

Just as Emma was about to suggest blackjack, the inappropriateness of teaching an eleven-year-old a casino game be damned, an orderly stepped into the room with her lunch tray.

Lunch was good. Lunch was fabulous. And after lunch? She would finally get the chance to savor that delicious piece of chocolate cake she was owed from last night.

Yes, Snow had actually made her wait until lunchtime. Emma's only half-teasing pleas for dessert following breakfast were denied on account of eight o'clock in the morning being too early for cake. Which, no, it wasn't, but Emma hadn't had the energy to quibble.

The arrival of Emma's lunch tray must have also signaled Henry that it was time to eat because the room was soon filled with pleas of, "Can we go down and get something to eat, too? I'm starving!"

Snow and David glanced at each other, trying to determine which of them was going to accompany their grandson down to the cafeteria to bring back food for everyone who wasn't Emma. "I'll take him," Snow eventually murmured before pushing herself up from the chair. She turned her attention to Emma, tucking an errant lock of hair behind her daughter's ear. "We'll be right back, all right?"

Emma nodded a little uncomfortably. This whole being hesitant to leave her thing was getting weird. Still nice, but yeah, a little weird. Had she really been that … clingy? She didn't remember much about the previous couple of nights. She remembered bits and pieces of some of the nightmares. Faceless people leaving her in a cold, dark room; her parents walking away from her and leaving her in the darkness as well; a little girl with a suitcase on her lap in the back seat of a social worker's car who didn't understand why she couldn't stay where she was. Had she acted on those nightmares in real life? Begged out loud for them not to leave her? She must have, because the aftereffects clearly lingered.

David shot his wife a grateful smile and watched as she and their grandson left the room with the promise of bringing back lunch. Then he wheeled the tray table closer to Emma so she could eat comfortably.

She smiled at him before removing the plastic dome from the plate. The comforting aroma of a grilled cheese sandwich filled her nostrils. Hospital grilled cheese was nowhere near as good as Granny's grilled cheese – and Henry said that Emma's grilled cheese was better than Granny's, though the two of them had never mentioned that to a single living soul – but it was still grilled cheese, which meant that it, along with the requisite cup of tomato soup, was pretty much the most perfect lunch ever.

Despite it being a perfect lunch, she ate slowly. She didn't have all that much of an appetite, which was weird because she'd certainly had one the day before. Maybe being in the hospital had made her listless.

"You still feeling all right?" David asked her after she'd forced down a couple bites of sandwich.

"Yeah," she nodded. Truth be told, she was completely wiped and it was becoming an effort to hold her head up but no one needed to know that.

The tiny smirk on her father's lips, though, told her he had some idea. "It's okay to admit that you don't feel well, you know."

She shrugged. "I'm sitting in a hospital bed; I think it's quite clear that I don't feel well."

The smirk softened into a smile. "It's also okay to admit that you're feeling worse than you want to let on. You don't have to be afraid to lean on us; we're not going to let you fall, and we're not going to let you down, either."

Well, that was a little bit more than she was anticipating for lunchtime conversation. She tore her gaze from her father's and picked up her sandwich again, desperate for something to do to shift the focus of the conversation.

David gently took the sandwich from her hand and placed it back on the plate, forcing eye contact with his daughter. "We love you, Emma Swan, and someday, I hope you'll understand the depths of our love for you. But for right now, just know that we'll always be there for you, no matter what."

Great, now she was tearing up. Wonderful. She blinked quickly and sniffed back the tears before they could fall. "I do know," she said to him after taking a moment to regain emotional control. "The past couple of days proved that to me. Hell, the only time you left was because I pretty much browbeat you into it. I was never alone, was I? Since I got sick, I mean."

"No, you weren't," he said softly. "Someone was always watching over you, from the moment I brought you home from the station."

"Thank you," she replied, swallowing hard because damn it, a lump was forming in her throat. "I've, um, never had that before."

David's eyes glistened at that admission. "Well, you have it now, Emma. Now and forever."

Their quiet moment was interrupted when Henry and Snow returned to the room carrying their cafeteria lunch, giving Emma and David barely enough time to shake off their emotions.

Henry's incessant chattering to Snow made Emma raise her eyebrows. That kid had far too much pent-up energy. That was what happened when an eleven-year-old spent close to forty-eight hours in one little hospital room, she supposed.

The family had just gotten their food distributed when Dr. Whale stepped into the room. It wasn't time for rounds yet, which Emma hoped could only mean one thing: "Please tell me you're here to release me."

"As a matter of fact, I am," the doctor replied through a chuckle. Emma could feel the smile curling on her lips. "No relapses, no temperature spikes, no more of those coughing fits … I feel comfortable letting you go home."

He paused, and Emma sensed there was a "but" coming. "All right," she sighed, "drop the other shoe."

Whale smirked at her. "I am, however, giving you a home care plan, one that it is imperative you follow."

He handed her a packet of papers, which she scanned over. The main crux of the care plan seemed to be a lot of rest. Sweet Peter on a Popsicle stick, she did not have the patience for this crap.

Her displeasure must have been written across her features, because Snow said, "She'll follow it." Her voice was stern and her eyes were focused directly on Emma. "We'll make sure that she does."

Emma glared at her mother because holy crap, she was not a toddler and could certainly follow simple directions on her own. She didn't want to follow the directions, obviously, but she still took umbrage to Snow pulling the mom card. Even though it was well within her right to pull the mom card, seeing as she was in fact Emma's mother.

This whole family thing made Emma's brain hurt.

Snow simply took her glare in stride and answered it with a smug smile of her own.

Whale's eyes darted between mother and daughter as a wry smirk tugged at his lips. "All right, then," he agreed, refocusing on Emma. "I'll go process your discharge papers."

"Thank you," Emma said. She sincerely meant it, too, because she knew he could have held her a lot longer, at least until her chest x-ray came back clear.

He gave her a smile before leaving the room to get her paperwork going. Henry set his sandwich down and launched himself at Emma, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'm so excited you get to go home!"

"I am, too," she replied honestly, holding her son in the hug. Her parents were beaming, relief mingling with excitement on their faces.

And all of a sudden, Emma began choking up. The love her family clearly had for her was overwhelming and for the briefest of seconds, she couldn't breathe.

She shut her eyes to staunch the tears and took careful, deliberate breaths. By the time Henry pulled out of the hug, she'd regained complete control. "Hospitals suck out loud," she added, hoping to downplay her previous admission that she was excited to be going home.

It clearly didn't work. Both her parents and even her son gave her knowing smiles that told her they'd all figured her out.

Damn.

"The first thing I'm doing," Emma wearily declared as she stepped over the threshold of her family's shared apartment, "is taking a long, hot shower."

Charming and Snow shared a smirk over their daughter's head. Snow had entered the apartment ahead of her while Charming had climbed the stairs behind her, mostly because although Emma was loath to admit it, she was still quite tired and lying in bed for three days had left her weakened. The truly troublesome and dangerous elements of her illness were behind her, but pneumonia was a particularly nasty beast, and it lingered.

That being said, neither of them had any intention of denying Emma the pleasure of a relaxing shower. After all the togetherness of the past few days, she also probably needed a few minutes to herself. There was plenty of time to cater to her afterward.

Not that she would want them to cater to her, but they weren't going to give her much choice. The home care plan Dr. Whale had prescribed specifically stated that she was to take it easy and rest as much as possible. So she was going to have to get used to her family doing things for her, at least for the next few days.

Now, however, was not the time to get into that. After closing and locking the door behind everyone, Snow headed upstairs to retrieve a change of clothes for her daughter. The only thing Emma had been carrying was the teddy bear, so Charming slipped it from her hand and waited until she shrugged her jacket off before taking that as well.

It took her almost a full minute to realize that she had been divested of possessions, which only proved how sick she still was. "I can put my own stuff away, you know," she grumbled.

Luckily Snow came down the stairs then, holding out a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt to her daughter. "Go take your shower, sweetie."

For a beat, Emma didn't move. Then she took the clothes from her mother's hand while narrowing her eyes at her and scowling. "You said you would stop the pet names once I got out of the hospital."

Once again, Snow and Charming exchanged an amused glance over her head. Henry at least had the decency to muffle his snort of amusement with a cough. Her Royal Crankiness was out in full force, it seemed. The next few days were going to be interesting, if nothing else.

"I believe what I said was that we'd take it on a case-by-case basis," Snow replied as she ushered Emma towards the bathroom. She pulled a towel out of the linen closet and held it out to her as well. "You're still sick, ergo I still get to call you by pet names."

Emma huffed as she took the towel from her mother's hand. Then, without another word, she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Snow smirked to herself.

"You're aggravating her," Charming informed his wife a touch unnecessarily.

"She's exhausted," Snow countered. "Everything is aggravating her. She'll be less grumpy after she gets out of the shower."

"How do you know?" Henry asked.

"Never underestimate the healing properties of a hot shower, young Sir Henry," Charming teased. Henry, who still viewed showers as pesky things he had to live through before he could play more video games, wrinkled his nose.

True to Snow's suspicions, Emma was indeed far calmer when she stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered and changed. Her dirty clothes were in her hand and the towel was still wrapped around her hair. Snow rushed forward to take her clothes from her to put in the hamper upstairs. "I can do that myself," Emma sighed, her resignation to the parental hovering apparent in her tone.

"I'm well aware," Snow told her. "However, you are also asleep on your feet and the only thing you're going to do is go lie down in my room."

"Ugh, really? I just spent the last three days in bed! I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I'm tired of beds. Can't I at least sit on the couch for a while?"

Snow hesitated just a moment, but it was apparently long enough for Emma to come up with a perfect argument. A sly smirk curled on her lips as she said, "Dr. Whale's instructions don't say bed rest; they just say rest. Sitting on the couch is rest, and if you let me stay out here, I promise I won't complain about you guys doing things for me for the rest of the day."

Oh, she had no idea what she was promising. Although, since she offered … "Well, when you put it like that," Snow replied, smiling at her daughter. Then she turned her smile on her husband. "Charming, will you get her set up on the couch, please?"

Emma opened her mouth, but Snow shook her head at her, stopping her impending argument in its tracks. "No complaining. You promised."

The look on Emma's face was priceless. She was annoyed but she was also busted, and she knew it. "Fine," she huffed, handing her mother the towel before turning to her father. "I guess you're helping me get set up on the couch."

Snow waited just a moment to make sure Emma was really going to let Charming sit her down and get her settled and then headed up the stairs with her daughter's dirty clothes, the used towel, and Henry's backpack. As she was unpacking her daughter's things, Henry bounded up the stairs, pulled something from Emma's bottom dresser drawer, and ran back down the stairs with nothing more than an excited, "Hi, Gramma!"

Well, that boy was certainly up to something. What that something could possibly be, Snow had no idea.

When she arrived back downstairs carrying Emma's baby blanket in her hand, she found that although Charming had indeed gotten Emma situated on the sofa, she had refused to lie down. She was instead sitting up facing the television with her legs stretched out in front of her and her feet resting on the coffee table. Ordinarily, Snow would chide her for putting her feet on the furniture but she supposed she could make some allowances for her sick baby girl.

An open DVD case sat on the coffee table by Emma's feet. That must have been what Henry had retrieved from upstairs. Somehow Snow knew what it was before she even picked it up to check: Back to the Future.

"I figured since Mom didn't get to see the whole thing last night, we could all watch it this afternoon," Henry explained when he caught Snow inspecting the case. He'd already snuggled up to Emma's side, and she was absentmindedly playing with a lock of his hair.

Snow smiled at him. "I think that's a lovely idea, but do you know what a movie afternoon like this calls for?"

The boy frowned but then his eyes lit up as he turned an excited smile on his grandfather. "Gramps' popcorn!"

Emma even smiled at that. Charming made the best stove-top popcorn of anyone they knew. "It would be my pleasure," he said, rising from the sofa and heading toward the kitchen. Henry leaped up as well, eager for a chance to learn from the popcorn master.

Snow, however, kept her attention on Emma. Her poor daughter was so tired but she was trying desperately not to let it show. After a beat, Snow stole Henry's seat next to her and tucked a limp curl behind her ear. "You still doing all right?"

"Yeah," she said with a halfhearted shrug.

No, she wasn't, but Snow wasn't about to argue with her. She simply handed over the baby blanket, which neither of the boys had noticed she'd been carrying. Or if they had, they hadn't made it known. "I thought you might want this."

A smile tugged at Emma's lips as she accepted the blanket. "Thanks." Just like in the hospital, she draped it over her legs before covering it with the quilt Charming had spread over her. Unlike in the hospital, though, she kept it within reach, running her fingertips along a length of deep purple satin ribbon.

Snow stared at Emma as she tried to gather the courage to say what she wanted to say. It was something she'd needed to say from the moment Charming brought a feverish and shivering Emma home from the station, and now, when it was quiet and Emma was amenable, it seemed like the perfect time. "Emma?"

"Hmm?"

"The next time you don't feel well, will you please tell someone? I know you're used to dealing with things on your own, but you don't have to anymore. Plus, it's very easy to get in over your head, especially when you're trying to deal with illness. If we hadn't been watching you, things could have gone really bad really fast."

At first, Emma appeared surprised but then her expression softened as Snow's words sank in. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "It's just … I was alone my whole life. I'm not used to having other people in my life, and I'm used to having to take care of myself. It's … it's …" She trailed off, frowning at her inability to find the correct words.

"It's a hard adjustment to make," Snow said, giving her an understanding smile. "I get it. I just want you to know that we will be there for you. You can trust us."

"I do trust you," she replied, her voice beginning to tremble with emotion. "I'm just … sometimes I'm a little afraid, I think. I'm not used to this family thing and I don't know how to do it and I don't want to screw it up, and–"

At that, Snow grasped her daughter's hand and squeezed tightly. "Oh, sweetheart, there is not a single thing you could do to screw it up. Not a single thing. We're your parents; it's our job to be there for you no matter what. It's our job, and it's also our pleasure. You're ours, Emma, our pride and joy, and nothing will ever change that, all right?"

Emma blinked rapidly, a telltale sign that her eyes were tearing up. She swallowed hard and squeezed Snow's hand back. "All right," she whispered.

Snow smiled at her, ran her thumb down her cheek, and said after a beat, "So, Back to the Future, huh?"

That got Emma to chuckle, and instantly the conversation was brought back to comfortable-for-Emma territory. "It's a new classic," she teased.

The air in the apartment now smelled of freshly popped popcorn. Charming had just poured the snack into a bowl and was tossing it to coat the kernels in butter and a sprinkling of salt. As Henry headed back to the sofa, Emma asked him to bring her phone with him.

He sheepishly brought her both her phone and the charger. She didn't even question it, just asked him to plug the charger into the wall for her.

He did so and plopped down on the sofa next to his grandmother. Charming squeezed in at the other end and handed the popcorn bowl to Snow. If he'd handed it to Henry, no one else would have gotten more than a handful. Henry started the movie while Emma checked her phone for who knew what. After a moment or two, she exclaimed, "Oh, whoa! Henry, why the hell did you take this?!"

From the sound of Henry's giggle, Snow gathered that whatever it was had to be good. She snatched the phone from her daughter's hand and found herself staring at a picture of her, Emma, and Charming all sound asleep in the hospital room. She and Charming were holding Emma's hands.

Snow thought that the picture was remarkably sweet, herself. Charming, who had leaned over to peek over her shoulder, agreed, if his facial expression was anything to go by. Emma, though, was clearly mortified. "Aw, I think it's cute," Charming teased, reaching across both Henry and Snow to lightly tug on a lock of Emma's hair.

"It's not cute!" Emma protested. "It's embarrassing!"

"Oh, come on, Mom," Henry teased, grinning at her. "Pretend I'm the one lying in the bed. Wouldn't you think it was cute then?"

From Emma's pursed lips, Snow gathered that her answer was yes and she was not at all about to admit it. To help her daughter save face, Snow closed the picture and set the phone on the coffee table. "No phones during family time."

Though Emma shot her mother a brief grateful look, she still huffed to keep up appearances.

The family quieted down as the movie began. Of course, the only one of them who was under any delusion that Emma would be able to stay awake long enough to watch the whole thing was Emma herself. True to everyone's suspicion, she was snoring before Marty traveled back to 1955.

And true to form, her family stayed with her. Neither Henry nor Charming had seen the movie, aside from the snippets they'd seen the previous night, and were perfectly content to stay squeezed on the couch with her while it ran. Snow took her attention off of it long enough to straighten the blanket covering Emma, tucking her in as much as she could, and to give her a light peck on her blissfully cool and no longer fevered cheek. "Sleep well, sweetheart," she whispered, her heart warming when Emma snuggled closer to her, unconsciously responding to the comfort. "We'll have you feeling better in no time."

And they would. With the love of her family surrounding her, there was nothing Emma couldn't overcome.