Canon divergence from season 3 (so Snow is refered to as Mary Margret). Set a year after the birth of baby Neal (who still doesn't have a tag on here?). This story was originally in my drabbles 'Charming Family Drabbles', but when I re-read it I realised I wanted to be able to expand on it. Enjoy!

A/N: Now edited for clearer reading

Emma sat cross-legged on her bed attempting to steady her breathing, as the familiar feeling of something akin to a dumbbell resting on her lungs, filled her body and made her stare at her own chest to make sure she was actually breathing. She tried to cough as quietly as possible to clear her throat – so not to let her parents hear her. She had found out very quickly when she first moved in with Mary Margaret that as soon as Emma so much as coughed, or sneezed, her mother would worry. It didn't take very long after the first curse was broken, for her to find out that her father worried about her having minor colds just as much, if not more, as her mother – albeit he did it slightly quieter, from a distance, and often convinced Mary Margret to talk to her. She soon finished coughing and found it was getting even harder to breathe. 'Okay, not good.' She thought to herself, as she felt a cough start to build again. Before she could give in to the urge, she heard heavy footsteps fall on the stairs, past Henry's bed as he got closer to hers. She quickly sucked in a breath and hoped that her father would leave her room quickly.

"Hey Em," David smiled at her when he rounded the corner, before he turned his attention to his cell phone which he was fiddling about with.

Emma wasn't entirely sure when it was that her father started to call her 'Em', but she found that it was one of his less embarrassing nicknames, and she kind of liked it, so she let it pass.

"Have you got the cruiser keys?" He continued. "I forgot that I left my truck at the station, and you know how your mother complains when we drive about in it at the weekend." He looked back at her as she simply nodded in return. He frowned slightly at his daughter, she was never quiet, not unless something was wrong. "Are you okay Emma?" he asked as he crossed his arms, he attempted to make it sound casual, however when he saw his daughter roll her eyes, he knew he had failed at that.

Emma rolled her eyes on impulse at her father trying to seem cool, he managed to pull off the act with Henry, but as soon as he did it to her his concern overrode his attempts and it turned into what she would describe as an interrogation. She let out a sigh as she realised that he wasn't going to let her blow off his concern without a verbal discussion. As soon as she let the breath out, she realised her mistake. She spluttered then started to choke as she gasped for breaths, panicking as her throat felt as though it was shutting off completely. She doubled over and closed her watering eyes, she felt the bed dip beside her and David's hand began to rub soothing circles on her back. After a moment she sat up straight still coughing.

"It's okay Emma. Just focus on breathing. In, out." David soothed. He hid his panic in only the way a parent could and focused on making sure Emma was okay. "In and out." He repeated a few more times, the mantra forced her to mimic his breathing.
After a few minutes Emma's breathing had returned to only slightly faster than normal, although it was still laboured, and she leant against him, subconsciously seeking comfort. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head, then looked at her, his skills as a seasoned warrior and his hypervigilance as a father helping him to attempt to assess if she was ill, with what, and how long she had been ill for. Now that she was no longer wearing the makeup that she had been during the day, he could see the purple that hung under her eyes and her skin was a few shades paler than it normally was. "How long have you been feeling ill for, Emma?" He asked her softly.

Emma made a whine of protest at her father's, in her opinion, overly-concerned tone. She turned herself so that she could hide her face into her father's chest: she knew that he could tell when she was lying by looking at her face and she didn't have the energy to try to put on the level of acting that would be needed to convince him. "''m fine." She mumbled as she let her eyes drift shut. "I'm not ill."

"Yeah, you're fine." He remarked sarcastically as he rolled his eyes, although he couldn't help but find how she was acting kind of adorable. "That's why you're having coughing fits. Come on, let's go downstairs and get you some medicine." He moved his daughter gently off of him and stood up, hoping that Emma would follow suit.

Emma moved herself backwards to rest against the headboard. "No. I'm fine." She replied stubbornly as she glared at David slightly.

David raised an eyebrow in response. "Come on Em, please, let your mother and I help you?" he tried to plead.

Emma carried on glaring and crossed her arms as she shook her head no.

David sighed and opened his mouth, ready to argue back, when he was interrupted by Emma having another coughing fit. He gently rubbed her back again as she tried to regain control. When she was finally finished coughing she looked at him with tears beginning to make tracks down her face. Although he knew that most of the tears were the coughing, he was sure that at least a few were from how miserable she was obviously feeling.
"We're going downstairs, and you will let your mother and I take care of you." He said in a no-nonsense tone as he helped her off of her bed, any fears he had of Emma not being happy with his decision had lost to his fears over her health. He stepped back to let her lead the way only to watch her stumble. He quickly wrapped his arm around her shoulder and took the lead as he led her down the stairs.

*OUAT*

Mary Margret sat at the kitchen table with multiple sheets of paper scattered in front of her, and even more pens of different colours sat upon them. Since she had gone back to teaching, a little over a year ago, she worked part time at the school so she could also look after Neal. Today was a rare day that she had been allowed to finish early, as the children were doing sports for most of the day, so she had completely the majority of her marking and was now colour coding a teaching plan for herself and the other teacher she shared her class with, Ms Shakeshaft.
She heard two pairs of footsteps on the stairs, and Emma's voices muttering grumpily at something, making David sigh, as she inwardly grimaced she looked up at the pair. She could feel her expression soften as she looked at her daughter, who obviously did not look well, however was wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, on top of which she had one of David's plaid shirts that he had been looking for a few weeks previously. Her expression changed very quickly to one of worry when her daughter reached the bottom of the stairs clearly out of breath from that short trip from her room.

David shot Mary Margret a panicked look as Emma freely leaned against him.

"Emma, are you okay?" she asked fully knowing at her daughter would deny being ill, yet she couldn't stop herself.

Emma nodded in return as she looked sleepily at her mother.

"Mary Margret, can you grab the thermometer? I'm going to get her to the couch." despite the scared look on his face, his voice sounded confident as ever, although he couldn't quite keep the concern out of his voice.

"Of course." She nodded as she stood up, the chair scraping on the wooden floor.

"I'm fine." Emma said quietly, David and Mary Margret shot her stern looks in return, which caused her to look at the floor to avoid them.

*OUAT*

Mary Margret rushed to the bathroom and threw open the mirrored cabinet which hung above the sink. She rooted through the collection which the family had built up over the last few years, she sighed as she realised that somebody, probably David, had decided to move everything around the last time he was looking through it. As she tried to find the thermometer she heard Emma's frustrated and croaky sounding voice float through from near the living.

"I don't need to sit on the couch and I'm not ill."

"Emma. We have already been through this: you are ill, you are going to sit on the couch, you will have your temperature taken¸ and you will take any medicine that we think you need." Came David's clearly frustrated reply. "Now, are you going to walk to the couch, or do I have to carry you to it?" he threatened slightly calmer.

Mary Margret couldn't help but laugh quietly at her husband's frustration at their stubborn daughter as she clearly got at least half of her stubbornness from him. Although she had to admit she loved hearing him use his 'dad' voice, which he had down to a tee, especially as it worked so easily on Emma.
"A-ha!" She muttered as she finally found the thermometer before grabbing the cold medicine, she sighed again when she realised that someone, definitely Emma, had left the empty bottle in the cabinet, she'd have to send David out for some more.

*OUAT*

As she walked back to join her family in the living room, she had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing.
Emma was sat on the couch with her arms crossed as she glared at David who stood next to the couch protectively, he glanced down and raised his eyebrows at her and gave her a disappointed look.
Emma looked down, no longer glaring, however was now pouting. David looked up at Mary Margret as she approached them and rolled his eyes with a smirk which caused her to smirk back.

"Here you go, Emma, put this in your mouth." She said as she handed the thermometer out to her daughter with a smile. "Your father and I need to know your temperature, so that we can figure out how to get you better." Mary Margret said with a maternal look at Emma's sceptical tone. She couldn't help but feel proud when Emma reluctantly accepted the thermometer, without a verbal argument, albeit with a roll of her eyes.

Emma looked into her own lap as she picked at her hands, while she sat with the thermometer in her mouth, she could almost feel the piercingly-over-concerned looks her mother and father were shooting through her head. She couldn't help but to feel uncomfortable at their caring, as nice as it was to know that they cared so much about her, she couldn't help but feel like a hundred people were staring at her and singing happy birthday. She looked up as the thermometer beeped, she took it out of her mouth, only to have it taken out of her hand by her mother. She let a sigh slip past her lips and immediately regretted it, she sucked the air back in through her teeth, as a sharp pain shot through her chest. She sat trying to compose her breathing and hoped her parents wouldn't notice.

Mary Margret and David looked at the temperature on the thermometer together before turning to engage in a silent conversation. Although they were both worried by Emma's high temperature, it wasn't so high that they had to rush her to a hospital, at least not yet. David nodded to his wife in agreement that they would keep a close eye on Emma, before he turned his attention upon his daughter, who hadn't yet protested at them not telling her what her temperature was.
He saw Emma looking thoroughly miserable, her face was now paler than before and her face was contorted in pain, and her eyes were scrunched up. David touched his wife's lower back, as he moved toward Emma, to draw her attention to their eldest child.

David sat down next to Emma and started to rub soothing circles onto her back once again. David watched as Emma sleepily moved her head up to look at him, her green eyes were filled with sadness as they met his blue ones, he placed his arm gently around her and placed a kiss on the side of her head, only just noticing the fact that she had stolen his shirt as he did so.
Emma leaned against him, no longer trying to hide how ill she was, David automatically manoeuvred them both so that they were sitting against the back of the couch instead of sat upon the edge.
Emma closed her eyes and pulled her legs up onto the couch, she tucked them up so she was comfortable before she curled even closer to her father. David looked over at Mary Margret in worry as Emma took hold of his shirt, he could feel the wheeze which was interwoven with her quickened and laboured breathing.

Mary Margret disappeared to the kitchen with a determined look upon her face.

David looked back down at his daughter and gently placed a kiss on her head, Emma opened her eyes and looked at her father. "Hey kiddo." He said softly. "How you feeling?"

Emma frowned slightly "Not very well." She replied quietly, her voice scratching her throat as she did so. She shivered slightly and moved closer to her dad.

"Are you cold?" he asked and felt her nod against his chest. He grabbed a throw which was draped on the back of the couch and covered Emma with it, tucking her in carefully. He saw her look of confusion as he tucked her in. "You have to have something to keep you on the couch." He winked earning him and eye roll as she tried to hide her smile. "Does your chest hurt, Em?"

"Mm," Emma hummed "And my throat." She let her eyes close again and tried to move even closer to David, part of her knew she should feel at least slightly embarrassed at being curled up with her dad when she was almost thirty years old, but for whatever reason being with her dad made her feel slightly better so she chose to ignore it.

David frowned in concern, the few times he had seen Emma ill she never admitted it, if she was freely telling him some of her ailments, she must be feeling really ill. He looked back up to see his wife walking back over to them, with her boots and coat on, carrying a blanket from their bed in one arm and holding a wet rag and some juice in another.

Mary Margret could feel her heart fill with love when she saw her husband and daughter cuddled up with each other, David's arm protectively around her as she sought out comfort, she held onto his shirt so she could know that he was there, even when she had her eyes closed. She passed the wet rag to her husband so she could sort her daughter out. "Emma" she called softly, Emma opened her eyes with a small whine of protest. "You need to drink some of this juice, sweetheart."

Emma frowned as David helped her sit up slightly before she was passed the drink. Emma winced slightly as she first drank some of the juice as her throat ached in protested, she drank half of the glass then passed it back to her mother, the small amount of movement made her feel as though she had run a marathon. She curled herself back up to her father, she felt him lean her back to rest against his chest and her mother's hands tuck a blankets around her and gently kiss her head.

"Get some sleep honey." Mary Margret whispered before standing back up from where she was leant over her daughter. As soon as she moved David gently pressed the piece of cloth to Emma's head in hopes of cooling it down. Mary Margret smiled him as he looked at their daughter: If she had told herself, years before, that she'd one day have two kids and a husband that cares so much about her and their children she'd have thought that he was crazy. She touched her husband's arm to get his attention.

"I'm just going to run to the store to get some medicine for Emma, we're completely out of everything, but she had decided to leave the packets in the cabinet." David rolled his eyes as both he and Mary Margret had repeatedly told her not to do so. "Neal's still down for his nap, are you okay with me leaving you with both of them? I shouldn't be too long."

"Yeah of course." He smiled, he could see the worry his wife was trying to hide from him, and realised even she hadn't seen Emma this ill before. "'I would offer to go, but apparently she's rather clingy when she's ill." He watched as Snow smile in understanding, it was rare they got to see this side of Emma, whenever they did they tried to make it last as long as possible however this time they'd rather she was well even if it were to sacrifice it. "I'm worried." He admitted. "She seems to be having some trouble breathing."

Mary Margret frowned. "I'm rather worried too, we'll have to keep a close eye on her, but if it gets worse we should take her to the hospital." She smiled slightly at her true love. "I'm pretty sure she's just going to get cuddlier, you know. Before the first curse broke she was pretty ill one time, but of course, she refused to admit it. Even then I was worried about her, maybe it was the mother in me knowing my baby was ill. I had to trick her into going to the doctor's office by pretending we were going out to get some junk food and a movie."

David gave a slight chuckle at that. Emma moved closer to him in protest at the movement of his laugh jostling her. "Shhh I'm sorry, it's okay, princess." He soothed as he rubbed her back, he looked at his wife when Emma had settled down again.

"She only agreed to go in to get checked out when I threatened to drag her in there, and stay while the doctor evaluated her, just so that I could force her to do as she was told." Mary Margret continued. "When she came out, she seemed to have accepted that she was ill, but she convinced me to actually getting junk food and movies. Her walls used to be so high, but as soon as she got ill, she became a like a koala, clinging onto me and wanting to watch movies with me. Of course, as soon as she was better she tried to push me away again, but I think that's because she wasn't used to having anyone there for her while she was ill. She wasn't sure what to do afterwards."
She shook her head at the memory of how different Emma was when she had first found her, she couldn't help but wish that they had been there for her when she was a child, but she also felt proud at how much Emma had progressed from when she first came to Storybrooke.
"Anyway, I'll be back soon, I have my phone with me. Call me if you need anything." She requested before kissing him.

"Of course. I love you."

*OUAT*

Half an hour later, Mary Margret was walking up the first flight of stairs with bags in either hand when her phone began to ring, but stopped ringing before she could get her phone out of her bag. The ringtone was one she only used for David. She raced up the stairs, as fast as she could, and threw the door to the loft open.

"Mary Margret! Thank god you're here" David breathed out in relief. He was sat on the couch with his coat and shoes on, he was rubbing Emma's back as she sat leant against him. Emma was fighting to keep her eyes open, but she too had shoes on, and one of David's jackets. Her shoulders rose and fell quickly with the pace of her shallow breathing. "Emma's breathing's gotten worse, we need to take her to the hospital. I tried to call-"

Mary Margret dropped the bags onto the table and rushed over to her eldest child. "I was half way up the stairs, I didn't get it in time." She kissed the top of Emma's head and pulled her to lean on her. "How'd she get this bad, this quickly?" she asked her husband in a quiet voice.

"I'm not sure, but I'm going to go get the cruiser key from upstairs."

Mary Margret nodded to him as he passed her, then she took his place next to Emma. "It's okay Emma. It's going to be okay, just breathe, it's all going to be okay." She soothed as she ran through a check list of things she needed to do.

Emma looked at her in response "I…. know." She managed to get out, but couldn't keep the fear from her eyes.

She sent her daughter an encouraging smile "Good. Your dad's going to go with you to E.R, while I get a sitter for Neal, then I'll meet you there, okay?" she said trying to distract her while pushing a golden strand of hair behind Emma's ear. She took note of the slight blue tinge of her daughter's lips and had to force herself not to let Emma see how scared she really was.

"Sounds good to me." David said as he walked swiftly over to them. "Come on, kiddo." He said as he helped Emma stand up, as soon as she did her legs shook and she started to fall, luckily David managed to catch her before she hit the floor. He swooped her up into his arms and started towards the door, Mary Margret trailed behind him.

"Keep me in touch and I'll be there as soon as I can." As she watched David carry their daughter doing the apartment building's stairs, she couldn't help being reminded of the last time her husband had carried their daughter away from her, a familiar sense of fear spread through her.

*OUAT*

Emma felt her father carry her into the loud hospital, yet could not bring herself to be embarrassed, as she normally did when her parent's displayed affection for her in public. She focused instead on her breathing, and tried to remember what it felt like to not have to think about how to do it.

Time seemed to pass differently as she fought sleep, she barely remembered being in the police cruiser with the flashing lights on.

One second she was being placed down on a bed, the next she had one nurse taking her temperature, another her blood pressure. She felt someone clip a pulse oximeter onto her finger.

She saw her dad staring at her with concern and fear, stood slightly to the side so he wouldn't be in the nurses' way. An old fear forced a trickle of fear to run down her back. She needed her dad to be closer to her.

A sudden burst of energy allowed her fight to get to him. She knew it was childish, but she wanted him close, she knew was safe with him there. Her eyes blinked closed, and when she opened them her dad was stood next to her.

She could hear the murmur of his voice, but she couldn't decipher what he was saying to her, although it might have been him explaining what each of the nurses were doing. A nurse spoke to him about something Emma couldn't quite hear and saw him furrow his brow in confusion and shrug.

She felt a small plastic Dixie-cup being pressed against her lips and the next thing she knew she was throwing up. Her eyes closed again, she wasn't sure how long they closed for, but when she opened them she saw a nurse place an oxygen mask on her face and her dad next to her as he stroked her hair.

She turned her head to the other side, and managed to make out the blurry numbers on the machine which would tell the doctors her oxygen and heart levels.

She stared at the number sixty six, which she knew should have been the number one hundred.

Then the world faded into darkness.