Part 3

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Fortunately, Snow had brought her car with her in her search so the ride home isn't nearly as jarring to her poor constitution. During the walk up to the apartment she's so focused on not blowing chunks, however, that she almost misses Snow kicking the door. But she definitely doesn't miss said door flying open and David's gasp at seeing the state they're in.

"C'mon! We can put her on our bed. God, Snow she looks horrible, do we need to take her to the hospital? What if-"

"'She' is right here, and no I don't," she interrupts with a huff, daring to crack an eye open to look at her father as Snow helps her settle down under the blankets of the soft mattress. Her shoes and jacket are off, and she's braced against pillows with minimal movement before her mother leaves to talk with her husband. It's a testament to how horrible she actually feels that she doesn't put up a lot more fuss about Snow's ministrations, much less the location considering what she knows has happened on this particular bed.

But luckily she doesn't linger on that thought too long, as she closes her eyes for a moment and feels the mattress dip on the side she isn't occupying, her stomach's screwed up enough. A cool, damp washcloth presses against her forehead, and she hadn't noticed how hot she'd been until she feels that rag, and she can't stop her shiver at the contact.

"Oh Emma," she hears Snow sigh, a familiar hand cradling her cheek. At the touch she forces herself to open her eyes again, looking into the concerned green gaze of the brunette.

"It's really not that bad-" she tries to shrug, but her mother's face tells her she isn't buying a word of it.

"Worth a shot," she smirks, causing Snow to crack a small smile, but concern is still the dominant feature on her face.

"So, where's Henry?" she not so subtly changes the subject, feeling herself start to squirm under that steady gaze.

"Upstairs. Charming just managed to get him to lie down again before we showed up. He's getting him for you."

"Good."

"But you really should be rest-"

"Don't push it."

She closes her eyes again, effectively ending the discussion, but she does catch Snow's smirk nonetheless.

"Mom?"

The call has her eyes open again in no time, however, and when her eyes meet his Henry almost vaults the bed to get to her side.

"Henry! Gentle!" Snow tries to scold, only just managing to remove the rag and make room for him, but the boy is deaf to her cry as he crawls across the bed to Emma's side, his mouth a fountain of worried words.

The jostling does make her stomach turn as her world spins again, but she swallows hard and forces herself to focus. Her kid trumps everything, including her feeling like something a dog threw up and ate again.

"I'm okay, kid, really," she finally interrupts his frantic speech, moving her arm to motion him closer and feeling him snuggle against her in an instant. A quick glance at Snow tells her the woman doesn't believe her white lie for a second, but one pleading gaze has her raise her hands in resignation before getting up and leaving the room, only stopping to close the curtain divider behind her. Henry, however, pays no attention to any of this exchange.

"But you left and Grandma was bleeding and then she left and Gramps was trying to act like he wasn't worried and-"

"And I'm sorry for scaring you, Henry," she sighs, straining her brain to try and formulate an answer when she feels like absolute crap. She'd been avoiding this conversation with him for a reason, but the time has come to own up, and she can't be anything but honest with him after what she's put him through tonight.

"It's just- I was having a nightmare, a bad one. Your grandma tried to wake me and she got hurt. I was scared I could hurt you or your Gramps if I stayed in the apartment so that's why I left."

"But how could you have hurt Grandma if you were- Oh."

She knew he was a smart kid, that if she just left that trail of breadcrumbs he'd pick it up. Only this time she wishes she wasn't right.

But as she waits, expecting him to leave her arms, to process this information, because however much she hates the thought of him leaving she knows it's a lot to take in, he only nods and meets her gaze once more.

"You're the Savior, it makes sense that you'd have powers. But if you were having a bad dream then you couldn't control yourself so it was an accident. I know you wouldn't hurt any of us on purpose."

She's pretty sure her jaw is hanging open. The realization that had taken her hours to reach he'd grasped in mere seconds. But she isn't given much time to marvel in that fact as he frowns, taking in her appearance.

"Is this what using magic does to you? Make you sick?"

She honestly can't be sure if it's the magic or the fact that she hasn't been sleeping well since their return (something she won't be admitting to anybody) or a little of both, but she's already worried her poor kid enough.

"Couldn't tell ya, but I'm sure I'll be good as new with some rest."

His look that tells her he thinks otherwise is so similar to his grandmother's that she almost does a double take, but before he can argue the curtain draws back to reveal a certain Prince.

"Okay, kid, interrogation time is up, time for bed."

Charming's tone brooks no argument, but she can also see the worry that still remains in her son's eyes as he hesitates to leave her side.

"Hey," she whispers, waiting for him to face her again before reaching to cradle his chin despite her discomfort, "I'm fine, okay? I'm not going anywhere, at least not tonight, and not without you. And I'm sorry again for scaring you."

His eyes lock with hers, and he must see what he needs there because he nods and leans in for one last hug.

"Night, kid," she quickly returns the embrace, pressing a kiss to his head.

"Night, Mom," he smiles, before crawling off the bed and meeting David at the curtain. The man grips his small shoulder and smiles, watching Henry take off for his own bed before turning to her. And the glow she feels from Henry's "Mom" suddenly seems diminished.

Things hadn't been necessarily awkward between them since getting back, just quiet, as if they were both still unsure what to make of the other unless in direct confrontation. But there's no mistaking the love and concern on his face tonight, his usual reserve gone in light of the night's events.

She's still not quite used to it even on Snow's face and she clears her throat awkwardly, making him snap out of his stare.

"Right, well, your mother will be in momentarily. I'm taking the couch tonight."

She frowns, "Wait a minute, I'm kicking you out of your bed? But-"

"This is the compromise for not taking you to the hospital, Emma. You don't know how close I was to carrying you there kicking and screaming when I saw you two walk in. Snow convinced me that you just need rest, and that she'll stay with you tonight to be sure. Got it?"

She should feel irked by the paternal tone this conversation has taken, as if she's some kid Henry's age to be ordered around, but all she feels is exhaustion and relief. She really isn't alone anymore, and her inner child is downright gleeful at the prospect of being taken care of for a change if she's completely honest with herself.

"Got it," she finally nods, remembering that he's expecting a response, and he nods back.

"Good."

But just as she thinks he's going to leave, he hesitates before walking over to her side, grasping her hand, and quickly saying "I'm glad you're okay," before finally leaving.

She stares after him, unsure of what she's just witnessed, and she must look amazing when Snow slips past the curtain seconds later.

"You believe me now when I say that they were worried sick?"

She nods but frowns as she watches Snow slide back onto the bed and get comfortable.

"He wasn't joking then?"

"Who, Charming? Oh no, I'm watching you for the rest of the night," she states, placing that cool rag back on her forehead without preamble.

A year ago she would have frozen at the touch, at the way Snow, once Mary Margaret, is looking at her now, but that was a year ago. She'd told Henry she'd changed, she just hadn't realized how much until now as she melts under her mother's care.

Tomorrow she will worry about just what all this magic crap means, about what she'll need to do to control it, but for now she focuses on the way Snow has grasped her hand, on the way her thumb rubs soothing circles across it as she finally falls into a dreamless sleep.

Fin