Home

Regina studied the gold clasp of her bag, the stitch of the jacket that she'd draped over her arm, the fading linoleum of the diner floor, focusing anywhere but at the faces of the Charmings, of Leroy, of Granny, the whole damn town it seemed, standing there, staring back at her with hope, with expectation. It was a new sensation, this. One where those she had cursed were no longer afraid of her, no longer waiting for the appearance of some ulterior motive. All of them, instead, were waiting— for her help.

Why didn't it feel welcome? She should be happy that she was finally trusted. Shouldn't she finally feel redeemed? If the empty pit in her heart mattered at all, then, she thought,

i might have even earned it

Yet their faith in her felt wrong, misguided. For somehow, something was preventing their remembrance of the last year, and Regina not only didn't understand what that something was, she couldn't think of any way to fix it. And if no one remembered, maybe she DID have a hand in it. While the others may not have considered that yet, it had occurred to Regina a thousand times.

This new curse, wreaking havoc on the town, these people she'd tried to save, it all felt like too much. Too much after knowing, deep in her gut, that she had mourned her losses for an entire year already, only to have the clock reversed, and now she felt like she was beginning that process all over again. Too much for someone who'd already given up everything that had ever mattered and who honestly didn't know if she had anything else within her to give. Too much for someone who, standing in a crowded room, still felt utterly alone.

There was no one left to help her. No one…

henry…

When the single word flitted through her subconscious, as it always seemed to do, Regina felt the burn of tears rising, and she simply couldn't bear her situation a moment longer.

"Please, excuse me. I just need to…" She gestured toward the back of the restaurant as she spoke, trying her best to sound collected. She moved swiftly past the curious faces, and through the swinging doors, and each step that took her away from the crowd toward the privacy of the restroom, felt a step closer to coming completely unglued.

Until she came to an abrupt halt.

Because, there, before her

was Emma.

"Em... Emma?" She breathed out in disbelief. Her face fell and her heart began to thunder in her chest as she worked to reconcile the rising pain of her grief, her regrettable vulnerability, and the overwhelming rush of joy at seeing the woman she'd missed, silently, nearly as much as she'd missed her son. She shouldn't be here, had no reason to be here, yet here she was. Right here.

And in those extraordinary eyes, there was one, perfectly unexpected, truth.

Recognition.

"Regina…" Emma's thin lips closed off whatever words were meant to follow. Her eyes of startling blue and verdant green were traveling Regina's features, taking in everything, missing—as always—nothing that the Queen was so desperate to conceal.

"What are you doing here?" Regina questioned, and she knew she couldn't stop the tremble she felt at her lip, and she felt like her entire being was falling into tiny little pieces, skittering away from her control, onto the floor of Granny's diner. "Why do you know me?"

She had to ask and she had to take a step closer to know this was real and when she did, Emma retreated, her back flattening on the wall behind them. Fear? No. Not like Regina was used to. But, something…

"I'm… back." Emma smiled so lightly. It was one of those pained, but oh, so, genuine smiles which Regina recognized, that Emma'd offered up as encouragement in times of stress, offered to others so many times before—sometimes, even to her. "I was just trying to build up my nerve and walk in there."

Even as her amber gaze swept over the face that had visited her in countless dreams, that she'd yearned so profoundly to see once more, Regina's brow furrowed. Old feelings of insecurity bubbling up, and she wondered if she ought not to feel suspicious.

"You shouldn't have ANY memory of me. Why do you?" A familiar anger rose in her. An anger that felt rather more comfortable than the vulnerability that still needled her. "Who are you?" She wanted so much for this to BE Emma. Might it actually…?

Regina moved even closer. Close enough to capture the scent of the blonde, and, yes, that must surely have been the wrong—or was it right—thing to do, for she couldn't keep her eyelids from falling shut as her sense memory told her that this was exactly who she thought it was. Regina's insides flipped.

And then,

"Oh my God, where's Henry!"

Pure love washed over Emma's face and she smiled brightly, her hands coming up defensively, hoping that it would assure Regina. It did.

"He's fine. Fine. He's here with me."

And then Emma reached out and Regina couldn't find it in herself to move away. In fact, there she was, stepping closer again, and as Emma's finger grazed Regina's flushed cheek, and tucked dark, silken hair behind one ear, Regina lost all her strength, all her walls tumbled away, and she let the touch in.

"Can I please just say…" and Emma breathed out as her hand continued its caress. "You are the most beautiful damn sight I've ever seen."

Regina's arms dropped to her side. Her purse, her jacket slid off and fell unheeded to the floor. She moved her gaze away, and whispered…

"I missed you. So very much." And she dared look up.

Emma's eyes were bright and clear and she was shaking her head slowly, marveling.

"Regina… I came home."

And Regina nodded as happy tears fell from her eyes, and Emma pushed off the wall and wrapped her arms about her and she felt like the world was suddenly just so perfectly right again. More right, indeed, than it had ever been before.

She burrowed into Emma's body, her lips landing on, reaching the velvet skin of her neck, surrounded by softly shifting hair, feeling their breasts touch and move against one another, their legs molding into place around, between. Shudders rocked them both, and a thudding ache that bloomed, an ache that Regina could never again pretend didn't mean anything.

As her own arms wound around Emma, pulling her as close as she could, she let the solidness of this brave woman, and the joy in her own heart ground her. Let the sureness of their connection convince her.

Everything would be all right again. Everything.