Emma slipped quietly into the apartment, unwinding her scarf from around her neck. The Maine winter had been brutal this year, snowing even just a bit almost every day. It had become close to unbearable, and that was from a Boston girl, where winter sucked pretty much every year.

I wonder what winter was like back in the Enchanted Forest, she thought before she could stop herself. She had only been there during…during what? Spring, maybe? Fall? Possibly summer? She wasn't really sure.

"Emma? Is that you?" A voice muttered from the couch. Emma glanced over and saw Mary Margaret and David curled up into each other, watching a movie on low volume.

"Yeah, it's me." She whispered back, stripping off her thick coat and rolling up the sleeves of her turtleneck sweater. "Is Henry asleep?"

Mary Margaret – who Emma couldn't bring to call 'mom' – sat up and looked at her, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "We think so. Charming went up to check on him about half an hour ago and he was out like a light. He asked for you, though." Hearing that, Emma's heart warmed.

She and Mary Margaret (Snow White, whatever you wanted to call her) had only been back for a week or so, and while it had been an eventful week, it felt good to Emma to be back where Henry was. She felt like she could sleep peacefully at night knowing that whatever nightmares Henry was having, she could help him, and to also keep Regina and Gold out of the flat so that they couldn't give him any more magical crap. Emma didn't know what had been going on while she was gone, and she had no interest in finding out.

"Were you two waiting up for me?" Emma questioned, instinctively grabbing an apple, and then she suddenly stopped, stared at the red fruit and put it down slowly. "Why do we even have apples?"

David chuckled softly and stood, walking over to her. "You have snow in your hair." He said, reaching out a hand and brushing white flakes from her scalp. Emma flinched at his touch but let him remove what he had to. It was odd, to have him touch her hair in such a caring way, but in a way where there was no romantic feeling in the gesture, just, well, fatherly love.

"Uh. Thanks." She mumbled, stepping away from him as she kicked off her boots.

"Would you like some hot chocolate? Snow and I were just about to make some." He offered. Mary Margaret turned to her, brown eyes alight.

"Would you like to join us? We have so much to talk about." At that, Emma almost bolted. She didn't want to talk to her parents; she didn't think she could handle it. But seeing their faces, so hopeful and optimistic, she couldn't say no.

"Sure." She eventually sighed, going over and sitting beside Mary Margaret, who moved over on the small couch while David made the hot chocolate.

"Don't forget the cinnamon." Mary Margaret reminded him, and he replied, "I won't, dear." Emma smiled to herself. 28 years apart, reunited, and they seemed to just slip into marriage like an old skin. When the hot chocolate was ready, David came over balancing three mugs and handed the biggest one to Emma, who took it with a little smile.

"Thanks…David." She said hesitantly, instantly cursing herself. God, the man had so many names, which one would be appropriate? Charming? No, she hadn't known him in that life. James? Wait, that wasn't him, that was his twin douchebag brother. David? But was that the same as Charming? Had she truly known him in that life?

…Dad?

"So." Mary Margaret grinned as she settled against David/Charming, sipping her hot chocolate. "Tell us about your life, Emma." Emma raised an eyebrow and licked whipped cream off the side of her mug.

Emma shrugged. "What is there to tell?" She asked indifferently.

"Well. Your life before Storybrooke. Before you met Henry." David/Charming suggested.

"I was an orphan." She said, surprising even herself with how bitter it sounded. Mary Margaret visibly flinched and David/Charming's eyes widened slightly. "Jesus, sorry. I didn't mean it to come out that way." Emma sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"It's alright." Mary Margaret whispered, though Emma could tell it wasn't. Her heart dropped to her stomach. Mary Margaret had only ever been kind to Emma, lovely and warm and inviting, and once they found out who the other was, she had tried her goddamn hardest to break down the barriers Emma had built. But, as always, Emma was pushing her away.

"I was found in Maine, you know." Emma suddenly blurted.

Mary Margaret's brow furrowed. "Really?" She turned to David/Charming, who was staring at Emma in confusion.

"Does that…Does that mean you were found in Storybrooke?" He asked.

"Charming, I don't think Storybrooke was even here when Emma came through the wardrobe." Mary Margaret replied before Emma could even formulate a response. She hadn't even thought of where she had been found. August had taken her to where she was found, next to a small restaurant tucked into a small town, but she also knew that the magic wardrobe had deposited her somewhere and Pinocchio had taken her to the side of the road. Had the tree she had come through been on Storybrooke grounds, or because the town hadn't been invented, had she been dumped where the town was supposed to go? She decided not to think about it anymore.

"You know we wish we could have come with you, Emma." Mary Margaret murmured, mistaking Emma's silence for silent anger. "But the wardrobe only allowed one. And we had to give you your best chance."

Emma raised an eyebrow and sipped her hot chocolate. "The blue fairy lied to you." She said. "The wardrobe could fit two. Geppetto made a deal with her so that he could send Pinocchio through. The wardrobe could fit two, and there were two in there." David/Charming almost dropped his hot chocolate and Mary Margaret's eyes turned dark.

"That blue little twat!" She snarled. "How dare she lie to me? To us! We could have had a family! I could have raised you, I could have been your mother!" She was practically shouting, and both Emma and Charming were trying to shush her, thinking of Henry. She kept up the rant until eventually Emma leapt up and placed a hand over her mouth.

"Mom!" She hissed. "I have a kid upstairs who is sleeping! Shut up!" Mary Margaret looked shocked that Emma had called her 'mom'. Emma herself was shocked. Very slowly, she removed her hand, staring Mary Margaret down as if daring her to make anymore noise.

"Mom?"

Emma turned to see Henry standing at the foot of the stairs, rubbing his eyes wearily. She turned to glare at her mother and then walked over to Henry and knelt in front of him. "Hey kid. Did we wake you?" She asked softly, pushing his hair from his eyes.

He shook his head. "I was having nightmares. About that red room." Up close, Emma could see that his cheeks were stained red and his eyes were puffy. He had been crying, she realized with a jolt of horror.

She stood, kissing his forehead gently. "Come here, why don't you sit with us for a bit? We promise we'll be quiet." She shot a pointed glare at Mary Margaret, who had the decency to blush. She led her son over to the couch, sat down, and he followed suit, curling into her. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and let him rest against her shoulder, and she kissed his forehead. "Go to sleep, kid. I'm right here." She whispered. It seemed to only take a moment before he was snoozing gently, one of his arms around her waist.

"I thought you said the nightmares would stop." Emma whispered to her mother, who sat up.

"They will. Eventually. They might go a bit quicker with you around, but they'll still stick around a bit." Snow explained. She and Charming stood and rinsed the hot chocolate mugs. Emma felt her eyes growing heavy. She spread out and gently eased a pillow behind her head. She drew Henry closer to her. The couch was a decent size, and they could both easily fit on it, but she felt better with him beside her. And something about the way he snuggled into her told her that he did too.

Her father (who Emma decided was David) draped a fluffy blanket over mother and son, and both David and Mary Margaret gave her and Henry a kiss on the forehead.

"Goodnight, Emma." David said with a smile. She smiled tiredly up at him.

"We love you." Mary Margaret whispered, touching a warm hand to her daughter's cheek. Emma wanted to say something back, but she couldn't seem to formulate the words. Her mind was going at a snail's pace. Her parents went to Mary Margaret's room, shutting the door quietly.

Emma pulled the blanket around Henry and tucked him in, and then she settled against him, and just before sleep pulled her under, she thought to herself, maybe having a family isn't so bad after all.