Title: Welcome to Motherhood
Summary: Emma started to ask if Snow had time to talk but instead blurted without preamble, "He hates me."
Spoilers: Post-ep for 2x14, "Manhattan."
Characters: Emma and Snow
Rating/Warning: K. Angst with a tiny bit of mother/daughter fluff.
Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. Not mine, never will be mine, but I can dream, can't I?
Author's Note: ssquared1 asked for a Snow/Emma story revolving around the call between the two of them in "Manhattan." I started to try extending the scene we saw, but this is what came out instead. I hope you don't mind, ssquared1! Enjoy. :)

One ring was normal. Two rings were normal as well. At the third, a little stab of anxiety made Emma's breath hitch in her throat. Snow usually answered the phone after two rings. Three, maybe, if she was in the other room and had to run for the phone. But four was pushing it and five was just about–

"Hello?" came Snow's breathless voice.

Four and a half rings. What on earth had taken her so long? A second later, Emma heard a thud, the unmistakable rustle of a bag of chips, and Snow softly telling someone – David, most likely – to set the rest of the bags on the counter. Groceries, then. They must have just gotten back from food shopping.

She started to ask if Snow had time to talk but instead blurted without preamble, "He hates me."

"Oh, Emma." The sympathy in Snow's voice sent tears to Emma's eyes. "Henry does not hate you."

Emma shook her head, momentarily unable to speak. It struck her a split second later how dumb of a move that was, considering that Snow couldn't see her. "He told me I was just like Regina. He said she always lied to him, too." Her voice broke at the end of the sentence, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut in an effort to regain her composure.

"He didn't mean that."

"It certainly sounded like he did."

"I promise you he didn't," Snow told her gently. "He's a little boy who's hurt and angry, so he's lashing out. That's what kids do. They say things they don't mean to make the person who hurt them feel the same way they do."

"Well, it worked," Emma said through a bitter scoff. She began to pace back and forth around the living area of the apartment, keeping one eye on Henry and Neal still chatting out on the fire escape.

"You're not at all like Regina," Snow continued. "Regina's lies were harmful to him, dangerous. She knew what her lies were doing to him but she kept lying. Henry's emotional wellbeing didn't matter as much to her as protecting her curse. That is not you, Emma. Although you've never told me why you lied to Henry about his father, I know how much you love that little boy. You must have had good intentions."

She had had good intentions when she told him his father was a hero who'd died in the line of duty. What was that saying about the road to hell being paved with good intentions? It had never been more apt than it was right now.

The tears were so close to the surface, so ready for release, but Emma refused to let them spill over. "I just … wanted to give him someone to look up to."

There was a barely audible intake of breath on line, and there was no mistaking the sadness in Snow's voice when she responded a second later. "He already looks up to you, Emma."

She sniffled, wishing so hard she could find somewhere to sit down. Sitting down was out of the question, though. She wanted to keep a watchful eye on Henry, for one, and for another, she refused to make herself comfortable in Neal's apartment, thank you very much. "Well, his looking up to me just came back to bite me in the ass, didn't it? The kid had just found out like a week before that I had him in jail. After living with the ice queen for ten years and then learning that his birth mother was a teenage convict, I could not tell him that his father set up his mother to take the fall for him and that's why I was in prison. No kid deserves that."

For a long moment, Snow didn't say a word. Every second that passed, Emma's heart dropped further and further into her stomach. Great, now her mother was disappointed in her, too? Only after Snow spoke again did Emma understand why she hadn't said anything sooner: she was trying to control the emotion in her voice for her daughter's sake. "Oh, Emma. Now I understand why you told him what you did, and eventually, Henry will, too. There comes a day in every child's life when he learns that his parents are human, that parents make mistakes just like everyone else. And you know what? Every child gets over it."

Not disappointed, then. Sympathetic and … guilty, maybe? The tears began to well in Emma's eyes again. "What do I do in the meantime?"

"You just be there for him," Snow said, her voice soft. "When he's ready, he'll find his way back to you."

Out the window, Henry and Neal were still talking. Henry had a wide smile on his face and was laughing at something Neal had said. The sparkle in the kid's eyes made her insanely nervous. After all, she remembered a time – sometimes it felt like a lifetime ago, and sometimes it felt like yesterday – when Neal made her eyes sparkle like that. "And while I'm waiting?"

"You look forward to the moment when he runs back into your arms."

The tears were threatening to fall now. She sniffled and blinked rapidly, trying to disperse them before they could trickle down her cheeks.

How had Snow become such an expert on parent/child relationships? After all, Emma was her only child, and … oh, holy crap. "The way I feel now …" Emma said, her voice low in realization. "Did I make you feel like this?"

"What do you mean?"

"When the curse first broke and I wouldn't talk to you. Is this how you felt?"

Snow didn't answer right away, which told Emma more than any words would have. She shut her eyes, dropping her head in guilt and shame. After a moment, Snow gently murmured, "Welcome to motherhood."

"I'm so sorry," Emma whispered. "If I'd known–"

"Emma, you do not owe me an apology. This is what parenthood is, being there for your child even when the child lets you know that you're the last thing he or she wants. Especially when the child lets you know that you're the last thing he or she wants."

Emma sniffled again. Perhaps waiting patiently for the child to come around was how parenthood worked but waiting patiently wasn't exactly Emma's strong suit. "How did you do it? How did you just trust that I would come to you when I was ready?"

"I had no other choice," Snow replied. Emma could almost see her giving a little nonchalant shrug. "Pushing too hard would have only driven you further away. Even still, I knew you'd come around eventually. Underneath all your bluster, Emma Swan, was a hurt little girl who desperately wanted to love and wanted to be loved. She just didn't know how."

Emma gave a little half-smile.

"The point is," Snow continued, "I knew you'd come to me in your own time, and deep down you know that Henry will come to you in his. He loves you, Emma; he thinks you hung the moon. He won't stay mad at you forever."

Well, how the hell do I respond to that? Emma thought. Since she couldn't think of anything eloquent to say and since she'd been far too emotional for her comfort already, she didn't respond at all. Instead, she injected her voice with a mock whining lilt as she asked, "Are you sure he won't stay mad at me forever?"

Snow chuckled. "I'm sure. Kids get mad at their parents, parents get angry with their kids. That's life. In the end, though, they always find their way back to each other, because that's life, too."

Emma swallowed hard as she nodded. Idiot, she silently berated herself because once again, this was not a video conference call. "Thanks for the advice." After a brief pause, she added, "And for never giving up on me."

"You're very welcome, Emma," Snow said softly. "On both counts."

"I wish I knew when the hell we were getting out of here," Emma muttered. "If it were up to me, we'd be heading home right now."

"Take your time. We'll be here when you get back."

"No, I know," Emma sighed. "I just … I miss you."

"We miss you, too," Snow said, obviously touched. "Just take it one step at a time. I hope you know you can call me, any time, for anything you need."

Emma did know but hearing it spoken aloud made a lump form in her throat. "Thanks. Listen, I should go ..."

"Of course. I'll see you soon, all right?"

"Yeah. See you." As she disconnected the call, Emma let out a heavy breath.

The talk with her mother had left her feeling a little bit better. Calmer. At least she had a game plan now.

She would ignore the ache in her heart when Henry looked at her like he didn't even know her. She had to let him be angry, she had to let him say whatever he needed to say, and she had to take it all on the chin. She had to be strong now, because he needed her to be strong.

Henry would find his way back to her, and when he did, she would be waiting with open arms. Because she was his mother, he was her son, and they loved each other. Nothing could ever change that.