I live! :-D Sorry I'm so bad about updating, it taking me forever. But I hope that it was worth the wait! XD Thank you so much for all the support, reviews, comments, likes, faves and kudos! You guys are amazing!

To my dartie and beta, Sassy you are the best! *tackle hugs*

O~U~A~T

Time in a Bottle

Charming was helping Snow into her jacket when a loud commotion in the hall drew their attention. They both darted out to find a crush of people surrounding a gurney, though they couldn't see who lay upon it. Whale bent over the prone form with a penlight, the motion revealing Emma's pale, strained face, hands white-knuckling the bed rails.

Snow gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Oh, God!" Tears instantly filled her eyes, because there was only one person who could put such a stricken look on their daughter's face.

She could feel the ice she knew was settling in Charming's chest, matching that in her own. "Henry…" he breathed.

O~U~A~T

Emma fought back the terror and sobs threatening to tear her apart, knowing such things would do nothing right now. She thrust the bagged turnover into Whale's face. "He took a bite of this and he just collapsed! So run the tests for arsenic or bleach or Drain-O or whatever could've done this to him!"

Whale snatched it from her hand, gaze boring into hers. "The boy is showing no symptoms that would suggest neurotoxins. So, whatever is going on this is not the culprit!" He tossed the bagged food aside, helping push Henry into the ER.

"Emma?!"

The sheriff whipped around to see her two best friends running up to her, identical terrified expressions on their faces.

"Henry?" Mary's voice was so tight it was hardly more than a whine.

Emma's wide-eyed, lost gaze darted between them. "Henry, he just…" Suddenly her eyes narrowed on them. "Where did that turnover come from?"

Both of their brows furrowed in confusion.

"What turnover?" John shook his head, completely befuddled.

Emma frowned. "The apple turnover you left with my lunch for dessert."

What color remained in Mary's face abruptly drained away. "Emma…" she said faintly, "we left you the cookies I baked last night."

The blonde's confusion deepened. "But…there weren't any cookies."

Swallowing back his own fear and pain, Charming let the part of him that'd been slowly cultivated as a deputy take over. "What kind of turnover was it, Em?"

His daughter's lost gaze turned to his. "It was…apple." Realization dawned and fury overwhelmed her. "Regina. She tried to poison me with the turnover, but Henry ate it instead."

"Aside from you accusing the mayor of attempted murder, I already told you, that turnover isn't what did this! There's no symptoms, there's no explanation that makes sense…" Whale snapped over his shoulder while he still worked frantically on the small boy in the bed.

Gritting her teeth, Emma snatched up Henry's bag and upended it on another bed. "There has to be something here—"

"There just doesn't seem to be any indication of what could be doing this," the doctor managed to get through his gritted teeth, frustration lacing every syllable. "It's almost like…" He snapped his mouth shut, no intention of finishing that thought, now that it'd caught up to him.

But Emma didn't need him to. "Like magic," the words fell from her lips without her prompting it, as her gaze caught on the book, Henry's book of fairy tales. The moment her fingers closed over the cover of the book images poured into her mind like a tidal wave.

"Good bye, Emma," her mother sobs to her infant-self, before pressing a tearstained kiss to her forehead. Snow's fingers convulsively clutched at the blanket swaddling Emma, even as she reluctantly allowed her husband to take their minutes-old daughter from her arms.

"Every story in this book actually happened." Henry's earnest voice echoed through her mind as her father fought his way through torch-lit, stone halls, cutting down black knights between him and his destination, all the while holding her in his arms with the utmost care. Cradling her like she was the most priceless treasure even as he fought for both their lives, never once allowing one of the blades to come near her.

Finally he opened a strange sort of cabinet and lowered her inside, struggling with his injured shoulder, blood still spreading across his shirt, a few drops hitting the floor beside her. Charming pressed his clammy lips to her forehead, gasping, "Find us." The doors of the cabinet shut.

"Emma?!"

The blonde snapped back to reality at Mary's—her mother's, oh, God it was all true!—worried voice and hands gently shaking her.

Emma blinked, dumbfounded, at her best friend—MOTHER!—her brain struggling to absorb the impossible reality she'd been stubbornly denying to herself for months, probably since the moment she set foot in Storybrooke.

"Em?" John—but his name isn't John! And he's her father!—moved into her line of sight, wearing an equally concerned expression.

She could only stare at the couple, the two people who had believed in and supported and encouraged her, were there for her, ever since she first arrived in this…was it even a real town?! These…these two people who had done so much for her, been the best friends she'd ever had…were her parents. "It's all true," she breathed, the couple's jaws dropping open in tandem in a way she normally would've found funny, but nothing about this was funny right now. What the hell was she supposed to do about all of this?!

"Where is he?! Where's my son?!"

The panicked voice that suddenly rang through the ER snapped Emma out of her stupor, utter rage blazing through her. She at least know what to do about that person. Jaw set, she stormed away from the stunned pair and over to the dark-haired woman hovering over her son, grabbing the witch's arm in an iron grip and dragging her away from the child that she'd hurt. Emma paid the older woman's protests and struggles no heed; what right did she have to any reprieve after all the people she'd hurt? The innocent lives she'd snuffed out and the entire town of people she'd cursed for her own satisfaction? The sheriff barely even noticed her deputy—FATHER!—following them, Mary staying back with Henry—good, her son wouldn't be alone, he'd have family with him—as Emma hurled the mayor into a supply closet, John—or Charming or whatever his real name was—shut the door behind them his worried "Emma" fell on deaf ears in favor of the younger woman shoving Regina against a shelf.

"You did this!"

"What the hell are you doing? Stop this! My son—"

"IS SICK BECAUSE OF YOU!" Emma roared over her. "That turnover you snuck into my lunch, he ate it!"

"What?!" Her confusion gave way to horror. "It was meant for you."

John audibly sucked in a breath, his entire body going rigid with fury.

"It's true, isn't it?" Emma demanded through clenched teeth, shoving the mayor back against the shelf, both fists curling into the lapels of her suit jacket.

"What are you talking about?" Regina feigned ignorance.

"It's true, isn't it?" the blonde insisted, giving the other woman a hard shake, making it absolutely clear that she wouldn't buy any of Regina's denials, not anymore. "All of it." Emma could feel her…father's eyes staring at her, the emotions in his gaze heavy on her back, but she kept her attention on the dark-haired woman.

All the fight seemed to, at least momentarily, drain out of Regina. "Yes," she admitted, almost brokenly.

The breath whooshed raggedly from Emma's lungs, she felt like she'd been sucker punched in the gut. She'd known it was true, but to have it confirmed by the Evil Fucking Queen herself was something else entirely. "Why?! What the hell were you hoping to accomplish?!"

Regina visibly rallied herself and shoved Emma back. "Because as long as you're alive, Henry will never be mine!"

A choked sound escaped the deputy. "Henry isn't a thing, Regina," he snapped. "He isn't an object to be possessed."

"Of course not." The dark-haired woman shot him a glare. "But he is my son! I adopted him when she threw him away and I raised him all of these years! Me! Alone! While you were off doing gods only know what being a bail bondsperson!"

"That doesn't give you the right to just take out anyone in his life you don't like!" Emma snarled back at her. "And he won't 'be' anyone's unless you fix this! You wake him up!"

"I can't!"

"You have magic, Regina." John, Charming, whatever-his-name-was, took a step forward, his voice low and darker than Emma had ever heard it, nearly sending a shiver down her spine. "We both know you do."

Surprise, followed quickly by fury, then chased by annoyance sparked in Regina's eyes before all of it finally died as she shook her head helplessly, the broken mother shining through. "That was the last of it," her voice cracked as she admitted the horrid truth that had ice settling in Emma's stomach and sent her deputy/father physically reeling backward to crash into a shelf, letting it take his weight. The older woman scraped together what she could of her tattered, completely unrighteous (in Emma's opinion) righteous fury and shoved Emma back with her next words. "It was supposed to put you to sleep!" she shouted accusingly, as if this was all her fault.

Fear gripped Emma's lungs in a vise. "What's it gonna do to him?" She had no idea how she was able to get that question out when it felt as though she couldn't even breathe.

Shaking her head, Regina panted, "I don't know… I don't know." The admission low and seeming like every word was forcibly dragged out of her. "Magic here is…unpredictable."

"So— So, he could—"

"Yes."

Every bit of oxygen Emma had managed to pull into her lungs immediately fled at that, leaving her on the verge of hyperventilating. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father stagger on his feet, reaching out and catching himself on the shelf before he could collapse to the floor—and it suddenly dawned on her that he was listening to them discuss his grandson dying. No. She couldn't deal with that right now. And she would not just stand by and let her son die, magic or no magic; fairy tale world or no fairy tale world.

"What do we do now?" Emma finally managed.

"We need help." Regina reluctantly admitted. "There's one other person in this town who knows about this… Knows about magic."

"Mr. Gold," the blonde realized, the pieces starting to click in place.

The deputy—prince—whatever's head snapped up at that name, emotions kaleidoscoping through his wide blue eyes.

"Actually," the brunette countered dryly, "he goes by 'Rumplestiltskin.'"

Emma gaped at the elder woman. "Rumplestiltskin? As in the guy who had that girl spin straw into gold?!"

Regina shrugged. "I have no idea if he's ever had anyone else do it, but I know that he spins a great deal of straw into gold. But he is the one who would best know how to help Henry."

The blonde took a deep breath, nodding. "Right, okay. Let's go."

Spinning on her heel, the dark-haired woman lead the way out of the closet.

"Em," her…whatever he was at this point—it was way too confusing to decide what to call him now that she knew the truth—caught her arm, keeping her from following after Regina and waiting until the door had closed before turning to her urgently. "This is not a good idea, going to 'Stiltskin for help." His tone was earnest and deeply worried. "He is more dangerous than anyone else in town, and he always has something up his sleeve."

"I can handle, Gold," she firmly countered—though honestly she wasn't quite as sure as she sounded.

"No, you only think you can," he instantly shot back. "He'll make you think you have equal ground, or that you want the same thing, or even that you have the upper hand, but you won't. He's always working a dozen moves ahead of you. You do not want to be indebted to him. And you can't trust Regina. More than once she's gone back on her word and betrayed deals she's made the moment it suits her."

"I can trust her to do whatever's necessary to save Henry, and right now that's what I need, not belated, unsolicited fatherly advice." Her mouth snapped shut, eyes going wide with shock at actually calling him her father, and in shock at her own bitter tone.

Joh—er, Char—Jame—Dav—you know what, she'll just stick with "John" for now—John's head jerked back, as if slapped. "Emma—"

"I'm sorry," she quickly cut him off. "I know you mean well, and we…we do need to talk about…" she waved between them and vaguely in Mar—Snow White's—holy shit, her parents were actual fairy tales! That shock was not wearing off any time soon—direction, "this. But right now what's important is getting Henry back."

Swallowing thickly, he nodded. "Right."

O~U~A~T

Snow had claimed a chair beside Henry's bed the moment things quieted, his little body was hooked up to machines and for the moment his condition was stable. But she knew all too well how deceiving the cursed sleep appeared on the outside, how on the inside there was anything but peace, just fear and confusion and loneliness and… She clung harder to her grandson's hand, tracing the lines of his palm, a lump swelling painfully in her throat. He was already so small, one of the smallest children in his grade, but now, lying in the sterile bed with the oxygen mask covering nearly half his face, and all the wires and tubes creeping over him like vines, he seemed utterly diminutive and so very frail.

"Don't worry, Henry," she softly assured him, "we're going to figure this out. You have so many people who care about you and none of us are going to give up!"

She knew that Henry probably couldn't hear her, she herself hadn't been aware of much that happened during her own brush with the sleeping curse, but his utter stillness was still so very unnerving she just couldn't let the silence reign. He was such an active and animated child, the very antithesis of silence and stillness. Snow ran a trembling hand over his head, gently brushing the dark locks that had fallen over his forehead aside.

"You know," she began, her voice unsteady, "your grandfather and I were here for the first ultrasound. We got to see your new aunt or uncle today, and we have pictures to show you and Emma when you wake up." The erstwhile princess forced a wobbly smile even though he couldn't see it. "You're probably going to give him or her so much hell for being younger than you but you're their nephew." Her fingers twisted even tighter around his. "We're 11 weeks along, you can see the nose and the arms and legs. You remember how when we saw the sonogram images in science class Donny said that in some of the early-stages the baby looked like a bean? Well he or she doesn't look like a bean, they definitely look like a baby right now. And Dr. Shoe is wonderful, very warm and caring while still being professional." She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "I wonder who she was, back in our world."

A hand gently settled on her shoulder; she looked up to see her husband, her gaze then went searching for their daughter. "Where's Emma?"

Charming's strained smile became a grim line. "She went with Regina to Rumplestiltskin for magical help."

Snow felt the color drain from her face. "Oh gods, why?!"

"We both know why." His voice was rough but sure, his gaze going to the little boy in the bed. "What you and I would do and have done for each other and our loved ones…but especially for Emma."

Watching her grandson, she pressed her fingertips to her lips, trying to contain the sob rising up her throat. Charming was absolutely right, they had gone to equal lengths, further even, for their family, and had put themselves into danger's path without blinking. However, as hypocritical as it might be, she still couldn't stomach the idea of allowing her child to be the one in harm's way.

Her head snapped back around to her husband, eyes wide as something he'd said finally clicked. "Wait, you let her go see Rumplestiltskin with Regina of all people, alone?!"

Charming's gaze dropped down to the floor, something remarkably like shame crossing his features. "She didn't want me to go with her," his finger tapped a nervous rhythm against the badge on his belt before he reluctantly admitted, "she didn't want either of us there."

Snow jolted in her seat like he'd slapped her, compressing her lips to keep them from trembling and squeezing her eyes shut to hold the tears back. "I—I guess… I guess I can…understand why she wouldn't really want to…" she swallowed hard, "to be around us right now." She smoothed the blankets over Henry's legs, tugging nonexistent wrinkles out of it.

Charming leant over and pressed a kiss to her temple. "She just needs time, Snow."

She clasped one of Henry's hands between her own, thumbs stroking along the back soothingly. "Yes, of course."

Snow knew Emma's life "free" of the Dark Curse, the 28 years she spent outside of its influence, wasn't what she and Charming had thought and hoped it would be. They'd thought she'd be found and cared for, raised with the love and affection she deserves, then when they found each other again there'd be joy in their reunion. And even after they'd learned of what Emma's life had been really like, Snow hoped that, given the time they'd had to get to know each other and build relationships, Emma would want to talk with them, or at least be open to listening to their explanations. How they never wanted to give her up, that they wouldn't have done so if there had been any other choice, that they wanted Emma, more than anything, to raise her and give her all the love she deserves. She hadn't anticipated her daughter wanting nothing to do with them, not wanting to be anywhere near them, but if she was honest with herself, knowing what she knew of Emma, she probably really should've anticipated this reaction.

The heartbroken mother swallowed thickly. "She just needs time…" She wished that it didn't sound so much like she was trying to convince herself.

O~U~A~T

Thank you for reading! I hope that the chapter was good and I'm sorry it took me forever! I'll try to update faster, but my work keeps me super busy especially with it being summer, but I'll do my best…