When Our Worlds Collide

Chapter Eight

The violet glow illuminating the tiny space she calls a bedroom informs her that she's been up all night. Her cheeks are sticky, her nose is raw, her eyes are most certainly swollen and she should feel every bit exhausted but she's not. She's too sick to her stomach to acknowledge anything else. With all the speed of a tortoise, she pushes herself up from her stained pillow and flings her legs over the edge.

She can't stand another moment curled up in bed, so her heels dig into the bed-frame as she leans heavily upon her thighs. She hangs her head in shame, convinced there isn't a drop of liquid in her body to produce another set of tears. Her heavy eyelids slowly fall closed and within that second, she sees Regina deepening that stupid kiss with Supergirl. An involuntary sob chokes out of her hoarse throat and a new wave of tears cascade down her cheek. She slaps one hand over her mouth and buries her face in her other elbow in an attempt not to disturb her roommates.

Except, she hears the old creek upon the rickety steps leading up to the loft. She quickly swipes her nose across her sleeve before furiously scrubbing her face but it's too late.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret softly coos, peeking her head inside the dim room.

"Uh..." she nervously combs her fingers through her hair while plastering on the fakest smile. Too bad she's too depressed to notice the action comes off as a grimace. "Hey...Mary Margaret...what are you doing up?"

"Mothers tend to be light sleepers," she whispers, lingering by the doorway, silently pleading for an invitation inside.

"Ah, Neal was crying?" Emma replies but she's deliberately avoiding eye contact and trying to be discreet as she continues to wipe the liquid from every inch of her face.

"No," her mother sadly states, cautiously stepping into the room as if she's about to be kicked to the curb. "My other baby was crying."

Emma swallows thickly, her back immediately straightening like a bolt of lightening struck down her spine. "I-I'm not...I didn't mean to wake-"

"May I sit?" Her mother gently asks, anxiously tugging her robe more firmly around her body to protect herself from a dismissal that is sure to come.

"Um, sure," she hesitantly answers, scooting over even though it's not necessary by any means. "So, what's up?"

"What's up? Emma, you've been crying-"

"I'm fine."

"Please don't do that," her mother exasperates. "I know I wasn't there for you growing up and there is nothing I can say or do to change that as much as I wish I could. You grew up without parents and I can't fix that but please, Emma, I'm trying here. I want to be here for you now and help you and god...I just want to hold you when you cry and you won't let me anywhere near you and I get it. I do. I just...please don't shut me out," Snow implores through tears that match Emma's gut wrenching pain.

"I don't...I don't know how to not push you away," she admits, hastily brushing away another runaway tear.

"I-I know. But I do really want to prove to you that I'm not going to abandon you ever again. I just want to be a part of your life. I want us to be close again like when we first met and we were just roommates and best friends and we had no idea about our DNA." Emma opens her mouth to protest but Mary Margaret pushes on, pivoting to look her square in the eyes. "Honey, I know something is eating away at you and I just want to help. Please trust me. I can't stand seeing you in pain any longer."

And this is the moment Emma's walls come crashing down. She doesn't want to, god, she loathes her traitorous body, but the tears spill down her cheeks like rain gliding down a window. She just can't carry around this weight any longer. She has spent her entire life shoving people away so they are never granted the opportunity to break her heart like her parents did when they gave her up. But she can't do it anymore.