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Emma eyed the bottle of rum carefully before sitting it aside, deciding that the hot chocolate she was serving didn’t need to be spiked. She lifted both mugs and walked carefully back to the sofa, waiting as her mother finished putting her little brother in his crib. Her father had finally kissed her awake, and was sleeping peacefully – well, as peacefully as one can sleep while cursed – in bed.
Snow White had been none too happy to learn just how long she had been asleep, and Emma could feel the tension radiating off her as she padded around the loft. Not that Emma could blame her. She would be livid if Killian had kept her under during a crisis, as well.
Her mother’s anger was why Emma was still at the loft. Emma recognized that Snow needed a distraction of some sorts, and she was willing to provide it. Regina was acclimating Robin to Storybrooke, and Henry and Killian had gone off to do their own thing – “We’re bonding, Mom,” Henry had said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes – leaving just Emma and Snow alone. Not that Emma minded. She enjoyed one-on-one time with her mother. With all the crises that occurred, it was all too rare.
Finally, Neal was settled and Snow practically collapsed onto the sofa, gratefully taking the hot chocolate Emma offered. “I needed this. Is there anything chocolate can’t cure?”
Choosing not to answer her mother’s question, Emma instead asked, “So how are you doing?”
“Angry. Annoyed. Bitter. Thinking up the most effective way to kill your father.” Snow laughed, the sound somewhat hollow. “I don’t want to talk about me. How are you? Your father and I aren’t the only ones with a lot going on.”
“I’ve decided that no one decides my fate but myself,” Emma answered with a shrug. The wish world had taught her a lot about herself, and her battle with Gideon only renewed that hope that things could be different. Emma knew she was going to die someday, but she didn’t want that to control her. Besides, with thing changing, so could her vision.
“But that wish world – is that what you called it? – had to be different,” Snow commented. Upon waking, Emma and Killian had given a short explanation for everything that had happened while she was asleep. Her mother hadn’t pried too much about the alternate reality upon first hearing Emma’s story. She had been far too concerned over the fight with Gideon. But, now it seemed to capture her attention.
Emma paused, choosing to take a long sip of her drink to mull over her reply. Her mother had always dreamed of what life would be like had Regina not enacted the Dark Curse, damning them all to decades of separation. How would she react to knowing that Emma had hated the person she could have been?
“It was…perverted,” Emma said finally. She hugged her mug closer to her, tapping her fingers against the porcelain as she weighed her words. “It was a wish, and you know how wishes can distort things, even good things.”
“So you’re saying it sucked,” Snow commented, her voice somewhat amused.
“I’m saying I sucked,” Emma corrected. Her mother cut in, arguing that she could never suck, but Emma shook her head. “No, I mean, I sang in field of flowers and cried at a moment’s notice. I had literally no fight in me. I was happy, but in a weird Stepford princess sort of way.”
Emma watched as her mother considered her explanation. She hoped Snow did not press her for more information. Emma didn’t want to explain being forced to watch her parents die, and the wish version of herself doing nothing. She shuddered at the memory.
Thankfully, Snow didn’t press further. Surprisingly, her lips quirked into a conspiratorial smile, and she asked, “So…how bad was the singing?”
Emma made a noise that was half-laugh and half-groan. That was another memory she would rather suppress for entirely different reasons. “Think full Disney princess before the movies got a feminist revamp. Sleeping Beauty on steroids.”
Snow was clearly trying, and failing, to suppress a giggle. “Okay, then, you were singing Disney princess. What about your brother? Did he sing as well? Or was he still a baby?”
Emma glanced over the bassinet where Neal was sleeping. She felt a pang of guilt when she thought of his role in her wish world, one similar to what she felt when she considered Killian’s and Belle’s fates. “He didn’t exist. I was an only child.”
“Oh.”
“It’s not that I intentionally wished him away,” Emma said quickly, feeling as if she needed to explain. She might have felt resentment when he was first born, but she never would have wished him away. “I love him, you know I do. Especially now that he no longer wakes me up every night.”
“I know, sweetheart. Like you said, wish perversion.” Snow reached out with her free hand in a comforting manner, clasping Emma’s in her own. “Besides, don’t tell your brother, but I love him a lot more now that he’s beginning to sleep through the night.”
Emma laughed, her guilt slowly ebbing away. “Oh, so I move out and he sleeps through the night? I see how it is!”
“Maybe he’s grateful to no longer being woken up by you sneaking back in at odd hours after spending the night with Hook.” Her mother had the audacity to wink, and Emma felt a blush quickly spread across her face.
Teasing about staying overnight with a boyfriend was something that she would have done with Mary Margaret, roommate, but felt awkward with Snow White, the mother. But on some level it felt nice to have a mother to tease her about her romantic life. The Snow White of the wish realm would have certainly skirted around the issue, at the very least. Not that Emma’s own wish version would be sneaking out to cavort with pirates.
“How are things with Hook, by the way? I feel like we haven’t had the time to talk about what it’s like to have him actually living with you.” This time when Snow spoke, her question had the obvious undertones of a concerned mother wanting to ensure her daughter was happy. Emma appreciated the gesture. And, Emma was grateful Snow’s inquiry had none of the protectiveness that usually appeared whenever David questioned her relationship with Killian.
“What can I say? It’s True Love. It works really well. I’m happy,” Emma said, enjoying the flutter of happiness in her chest whenever she spoke of him.
She wondered if her mother felt the same way when talking about her father. Probably not at the moment, Emma reasoned, remembering Snow’s earlier ire. She glanced down at the mug in her hands and flexed her fingers, debating if she should tell her mother of her inkling. Deciding her mother could use some excitement, Emma added, “Killian’s hiding something from me, though.”
“Oh, Emma,” her mother sighed. But then Snow’s eyes narrowed as she considered her daughter’s demeanor. “Wait a second. You don’t seem too upset about this.”
“Nope!” Emma tried her best to hide her giddy smile behind her mug. “He’s hiding a ring.”
To Emma’s surprise, her mother said nothing. Her eyes widened, her lips pursed, and she sat down her mug. “Are you sure?”
“Um, yeah. I found it. For a pirate, he is terrible at hiding things,” Emma said, her excitement beginning to deflate. Her mother was supposed to be happy. Emma had honestly expected her to be jumping up and down or doing something else completely motherly or embarrassing. “Mom, are you happy about this?”
“Oh, honey, how I feel shouldn’t matter,” Snow said quickly. “Are you happy about this?”
Emma looked down at her bare ring finger. She’d found the ring while putting away laundry. He’d thought that keeping it hidden in his sock drawer would be good enough. It was a pretty ring, a solitaire on a white gold (platinum?) band. Simple like she preferred.
She’d nearly had a panic attack when she’d found it. Killian had bought a ring. He wanted a future with her – a forever, “for better or for worse” kind of future. Emma had always known that he wanted that on some level, but the ring made it all the more real. Just one more wonderful thing she could lose.
And that was the thing – it was wonderful. Because as scared as she had been seeing that ring, she had been happy. Excited, even. Killian wanted to propose, and she wanted him to do it. She wanted to get married, to get married to him. And now that she was a master of her own fate, all that was left was waiting for him to ask.
“Yeah, Mom, I’m really happy.”
That was when Snow acted as expect, practically tackling Emma into a hug. It took special maneuvering to not spill her mug of hot chocolate, and she sat it down on the coffee table in order to avoid any potential spillage.
“You’re getting married!”
“Not yet. He has to ask me first.”
“I’m so incredibly happy for you, Emma,” Snow said, and Emma could see tears brimming in her mother’s eyes. She felt her own eyes begin to sting.
“You could have told me that earlier, you know.”
“I know, I just didn’t want to pressure you either way,” Snow answered, and then she pulled Emma into another hug. “But if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“I’m definitely happy,” Emma said, hugging her mother tighter. It felt nice to share this with someone. In the aftermath of Robin’s death, Emma hadn’t felt comfortable sharing much information about her relationship with Regina, feeling it would be unfair. Killian was much closer to Belle, and there was no way Emma was going to be talking about it to Henry, except in the abstract.
When they pulled apart, and after Emma had wiped her tears with her sweater sleeve, she noticed her mother once again wearing a conspiratorial smirk. “Okay, what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I’m not going to tell your father that his little girl is going to soon to be an engaged woman,” Snow replied, her smile positively wicked. “If he won’t trade duties during crises, I’m not going to trade happy secrets.”
Emma couldn’t help but laugh.