Prompt: I am always a sucker for daddy!charming. Loved Daddy Voice. and would not mind something more/along these lines.

In this day and time, Emma Swan was happy she had found her father. After all, who was better to help her out, when a chase had escalated with her, falling and hurting her leg like that. She was lying on the wet forest ground, unable to get up or move at all. Her leg was throbbing, and if she could judge by the look she could get from the weird angle she was in, it was also turning purple. Her father stood over it and looked deep in thought. She had to smirk at how worried he looked.

"So, what's the verdict?" she asked quietly. She just wanted to hear him say everything was all right. Just a little bit of resting and she could get up and walk to the car.

"It's not promising," he hummed, not even lifting his eyes to look at her. "And the fact that we were both stupid enough to leave our phones in the car is not helping our case".

She squirmed, trying to move again. At the first twist of her leg, though, she stopped. Moving was not going to happen anytime soon. "It hurts".

"I can see that," he nodded. "But until you give up on being stubborn and let me carry you, we are not going anywhere anytime soon".

"I'm not being stubborn".

She was definitely being stubborn. Oh, she knew that very well. But there was no way she was going to let her father carry her all over the forest to their car. It was parked close to the main road, and they were deep, deep into the forest. She would much prefer staying in the forest. She knew herself enough to know that with a little bit of rest, she would be able to push the pain to the back of her mind and walk to the car.

"I'm not getting into this conversation again," David smirked. "Can I at least help you up? You can sit, instead of lying on the wet ground. You could get a cold, and with how your leg looks, I highly doubt that's going to be any fun".

She exhaled loudly through her nose. "Fine," she agreed. "Help me up". She sent her hands forward and closed her eyes. Okay, they were doing this. Everything was going to be fine.

With a shake of his head, David put one arm under her back, and with the other supported her hurt leg. "All right, Em. To the count of three, okay? One, two, three…"

He lifted her back, making sure to support her leg as much as possible. Emma hissed in pain, but she was indeed sitting now, her leg resting in front of her. "Thanks," she breathed, using one hand to try and clean her back from the wet leaves and mud.

"You don't have to stand on guard you know," she smiled at him after a moment, realizing he wasn't going to move. He was standing in front of her, his hands folded over his chest, and a serious look on his face. He was again in deep thought, she could see.

"I'm not. I don't like how it looks. I'm going to pick you up and we're going to go the car and drive to the hospital". That was it. He made his decision, and there was no way she was going to convince him to drop it.

Now Emma was beginning to get defensive. She folded her hands over her chest as well. "I don't need the hospital".

"Oh," he replied, sitting next to her so he could look into her eyes. "So, you're going to sit here until it gets better and then walk to the car and drive home? Is that what you think is going to happen?"

She smiled a sheepish smile and nodded hesitantly. "Maybe?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, "I don't think so. We're going to the hospital".

David got up and put his coat back on, preparing himself to life her and walk to the car. There was no way he was letting her stay there. Emma eyes him, bracing herself for the inevitable. It sounded humiliating, being carried by her father, she had to admit, but she was so glad he was there. She couldn't imagine how it would feel to go through the same thing, but all by herself.

"Okay, ready?" David asked, and bent to pick her up. She did not have time to answer his question, though. Soon enough, she found herself being lifted. One hand was supporting her back while the other was under her knees, careful not to twist her hurt leg.

She knew she was blushing when their eyes met, finally on the same lever. "Hi," she whispered in humiliation.

"Hi," he smiled at her, sending his head a little closer to hers and kissing her forehead. "Let's get you to the hospital, okay?"

Emma closed her eyes and tried to get her mind occupied. Maybe if she thought of something else, she wouldn't have to see the image in her mind. The image of Storybrooke's savior, the great sheriff, being carried by her father through the forest.

"You know," David said after a couple minutes, "the last time I carried you, you were much smaller".

It was intended to be a joke, she knew. She groaned, saying "you're making it quite hard to forget that you're carrying me now".

"Sorry," he laughed, but she could hear the pain in his voice. The last time he carried her like that, she wasn't just smaller. She was also saying goodbye to him, and he to her, for the last time for twenty-eight years.

"I really don't think I could fit in a wardrobe," she tried to joke after a second.

"I think it would be considered abuse, me trying to shove you into one, wouldn't it?"

She laughed, and he laughed soon after too. And she could almost forget how humiliating it was, being carried like that. He was her father, after all, and she was very lucky to have him with her.