Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any recognizable characters.

AN: This takes place during 4B after Emma gets into Operation Mongoose and follows until 4x20 "Lily" so be warned there are mentions and spoilers if you haven't watched as far. There's no Author, no Zelena, and Robin and Roland are happily in NYC with the real Marian because wtf was that plot line?

AN2: Written for misslane1981 and her accompanying video which can be found at www(period)youtube(period)com / watch ? v = HWByjZz-Qdk - replace the periods and remove the spaces!

TW: Implied past child abuse and implied past dubious consent.

Emma slammed the book shut and dropped her head onto the thick leather bound cover. The stupid Once Upon a Time title it boasted had been mocking her for days now as she, Regina, and Henry scoured through its pages and the empty books of the Sorcerer's house for clues on how to locate the Author or unlock the book's secrets.

It was useless so far.

"Now that's one way to use your head," Regina quipped, returning from her kitchen and placing two ciders on the coffee table in front of the blonde who sat on the floor, her legs outstretched under the table.

"This book is stupid," Emma muttered into the cover.

They found zilch since they had started Operation Mongoose, and every night that Emma bid Regina goodbye, worry lines, frustration, and sadness wrinkling her near porcelain skin, Emma resolved to work harder.

She lifted her head up and scoffed at the book, whipping open the front cover with the back of her hand in aggravation. She had read the book a million times! Cinderella married her Prince. Little Red Riding Hood had quite the appetite in men. Snow White and Prince Charming sent Baby Emma away in a tree. Yup, she got that. The good guys win.

But how was she supposed to help Regina when the closest thing the book presented as a backstory was Regina saving young Snow's life?

Blindly sipping on the cider, Emma huffed as she turned to Regina's weak origin story, a whomping three pages of text that immediately flash forwarded to Queen Eva's death and the Evil Queen's uprising. Nothing about the ten odd years where Regina was King Leopold's wife and her descent into darkness. The missing points in the book that were so pivotal to Regina made the Queen angry that she had gotten scorned again, this time by a biased writer.

It was times like these that Emma almost wished there was a baddie to fight. At least then she could punch something in the face.

"My sentiments exactly." Regina sat on the couch, her knees nearly brushing Emma's shoulder in their proximity as the brunette leaned forward to examine the book with her.

Sighing, Emma flipped open the book once more. There had to be something in its pages. They wouldn't have found the secret room full of empty books for nothing. But even in the three days that she, Regina, and Henry had been meeting together, coming up with theories on where the Author was located and how to change the book, they had come up short. Now, all they had was a knocked out Henry curled up on the sofa with colour-coded notes as his blanket, a crest-fallen Queen who was getting more and more despondent with every dead end, and a very frustrated Saviour. Emma was supposed to bring back the happy endings. Why was finding Regina's like pulling teeth?

The cartoon image of the Evil Queen vowing how she would destroy everyone's happiness stared up at her mockingly. Emma had heard that phrase once or twice since meeting Regina, and though the Queen had come close a few times, Regina was the one to actually give Emma her happiness. Henry's upbringing, the gift of memories during their time in New York. Regina gave her without thought, and all Emma wanted to do was repay her in kind. She was the Saviour, right? She had to have some leeway in that department.

She flipped the pages again, hoping to find something in the ink when Regina saved a young Snow, but she stopped dead at an unfamiliar picture of a young Regina clutching a man in her arms on the floor of a stable.

"What the hell?" She said out loud, drawing Regina's attention behind her.

The brunette was nearly cheek to cheek with Emma as she gasped seeing her younger self on the page. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." Emma turned her head and nearly collided with the older woman. Wide, nearly fearful eyes stared back at her, but Emma couldn't question any further. She felt a pull, like a rope lassoing around her chest, and before she could even turn back toward the book, Emma's vision grew hazy.

Regina's presence beside her dwindled, and the comfort of the carpet under her body gave way to hard ground and the overwhelming smell of manure. When her vision cleared, her heart was already racing, both in fear, anger, and absolute dread. Cora stood above her with a glowing red heart in her hand, and Emma didn't need to feel Daniel tense in her arms to know whose heart it was. Then Cora squeezed, and a breathy sob escaped her lips as the heart crumbled into dust. She held him tighter as if her physical hold could stop the life being taken away from him, but as the final grain of dust fell to the ground, Emma felt her world coming to an end. A little house on a hill, a small farm with horses, and dark haired children running carefree in the field behind their home. Daniel trudging in from the farm covered in mud and hay and the children hanging off his shoulders as she fixed up dinner for the evening. All ripped away just as Daniel's heart had been taken. She was vaguely aware of Cora's footsteps echoing her exit as she left the stables, but all Emma could do was sob over Daniel's body, begging for him to come back. She kissed him over and over and even gathered the grains of dust that once comprised his heart and tried to mould it back together. It was no use. Daniel was dead.

She felt the pull in her chest again, the edges of her vision fading like a burning piece of paper, and then she was out of the stables and back in Regina's living room.

"Ms. Swan. Ms. Swan! Emma!" With a gasp like she was breaking the ocean's surface, Emma seized against the foot of the couch and nearly clocked Regina in the jaw when the brunette tried to hold her steady. Her heart was still racing and her palms were shaky, and the only thing Emma could comprehend was that Daniel was dead.

She sobbed. "No, no, no."

"Emma." Regina held her shoulders firm, and though Emma struggled against her grip, she eventually succumbed to being pulled in by the older woman.

"Daniel," Emma sobbed into Regina's shirt, unaware of the woman tensing underneath her mutterings. "No, no come back to me."

Hopelessness was the only thing running through Emma's body as she clutched against Regina, wishing she could reverse time, have magic of her own, or run away sooner. But all she could do as her throat constricted and her heart clenched in misery was hide away from the world as Regina cautiously rubbed her back.

It was a wonder how Emma's sobs didn't wake their son who was just two feet away from the embracing women on the floor. It took a long while before Emma was calm enough for the emotions she had felt to ebb away. It filtered out of her like air in a pricked balloon, slowly deflating with passing time until she was left limp and exhausted. Halfway through she was vaguely aware that it was Regina who had gone through this pain, but her body reacted all the same, hiccupping as she struggled for breath.

Regina held her the entire time, whispering softly that she would be okay even though Regina knew the outcome of witnessing Daniel's death. They were here from it, after all. When Emma's shaking shoulders ceased and her whimpers gave way to deep inhales, Regina removed her hand from the blonde's back and tucked sweat-slicked hair away from Emma's face. She leaned back, studying her with wondrous curiosity.

Emma sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her palm, scooting backward until her back fully rested against the foot of the couch. She glared daggers at the book on the table before wiping her face clear of moisture. "That was weird," she said hoarsely.

"What—" Regina darted her eyes behind her to the book, "—what happened?"

"I was there."

"In the book."

"Like, in you," the blonde explained lamely. "It was like looking back on a memory, but it was yours. I could, I could see and hear and feel everything."

"When you say that, you mean..."

Their eyes locked. "Everything."

Silence settled between them as Regina's eyes remained downcast, absorbing the information. Emma had just witnessed the beginning of the catalyst that began her journey as the Evil Queen, and the blonde had broken down in her arms. Regina wasn't quite sure what to do with that information. A part of her was offended, as if Emma had willingly invaded her privacy, but another part was pleased that someone knew what it felt like, to literally be in her shoes.

A hand on her arm pulled her from her thoughts, and though Emma's palm was still clammy, the blonde squeezed affectionately until Regina looked up to meet her gaze.

"I'm so sorry."

She shook her head confused. "What for?"

Tears prickled in Emma's eyes once more, and the Saviour turned her head to focus on their sleeping son a couch over, his arm falling off the cushion as his knuckles grazed the carpet. "The only time I ever felt like that before was when Henry ate the turnover and they said he was dead."

Regina nodded, her chest clenching in memory and guilt.

"What happened just now?"

"I've no idea, Saviour." Regina composed herself and moved from her sitting position on the floor to grab the book and settle back on the couch. Her eyes glossed over the words of the newly added story before she hovered a palm over it. Magic tingled just beneath her hand as if a barrier was there shielding it from reaching her. Whether it was the book's innate magic or something that had transpired just then, Regina wasn't sure, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Regina was about to ask Emma if she was well enough to stand before the blonde beat her to it. "Your mom was always like that?"

Breathing deeply, Regina stared out straight ahead of her as if memorizing the woodwork of her mantelpiece. She hadn't really thought about that fateful day in the stable for years, long since accepting that that was that, but seeing Emma's visceral reaction brought up her own memories that didn't need a book to jump start. She swallowed thickly then nodded. "Yes. But I realized only recently it was because of her lack of heart."

Emma snorted before pushing herself up off the ground and plopping herself onto the couch, tugging the book from Regina's lap and shutting it close. "Doesn't make it right." She ran her fingers through her hair and cleared her throat. "I'm, uh—My mom, she actually told me about Daniel. But that wasn't her story to tell."

"Yes," Regina breathed before turning hear head slowly and speaking sardonically. "And you got front row tickets to it."

"I didn't mean to—"

Regina held up her hand. "It's fine. Perhaps we can reconvene tomorrow? You've been through quite a bit just now."

Emma nodded and tucked the book under her arm. After a hasty goodbye and Regina settling a blanket over Henry because despite her insistence, the Little Prince was getting much too big to be carried, Regina retreated to her bedroom, contemplating what had just occurred in the last hour. Emma had relived Regina's past, one that was pivotal to her being. If that was the cost of finding the keys to the book and the Author, Regina wasn't quite sure if she was ready to pay up. Changing her ways was one thing, but having anyone, the Saviour of all people, pry into her private life might just be a tad too much.

Perhaps it was thoughts of what had happened that caused Regina to fall into a fitful sleep, but the thin layer of magic that had followed both her and Emma when they leaned over the book together crackled in her skin. One moment, her mind had been filled with Robin and Roland and the sporadic time they had all spent together until they began to blur and the only thing she could see were trees. So many trees overhead and an unsettling chill surrounding her. She screamed. A loud, high pitched wail came from her throat breaking through the quiet of the forest, and all Regina wanted to feel was safe. It wasn't coming. No one was coming. She cried louder. A red-headed boy appeared overhead and scooped her up, and though it wasn't the warmth of the man who had cradled her earlier or the heartbeat of the woman she had memorized long ago, it was good enough.

Regina woke with a start, confusion settling within her as she tried to make sense of what she had just witnessed. Her throat was dry from the screaming and her cheeks were damp with tears, but the unnerving feeling of being alone settled within her more so than it ever had. This wasn't just a typical pity party; it was something else entirely.

When she woke later and explained to both Henry and Emma over breakfast what she had seen, Emma had fixed her with a curious look but it was Henry who said that red-headed child may have been Pinocchio, and it was then the mothers and son realized what had occurred.

Body jumping had never been more than a myth in the Enchanted Forest. One could cast a glamour over their appearance but to feel for another was unheard of, especially to jump into past selves. It was also the only explanation they could come up with, and Regina was beginning to get nervous for what exactly Emma would see.

"This is just perfect," Regina muttered as she cleared off the dishes from their hasty breakfast.

Henry had already rushed off to catch the bus, but Emma had stayed behind, flicking through the pages of the book in a furrowed concentration as if she could will it to work. She glanced up at Regina's grumble with a cocked eyebrow. "Hey, you're seeing my stuff too."

"A crack at the Saviour," Regina feigned a shiver, "how terrifying."

Emma slammed the book shut and stood from her stool, leveling Regina with a glare. "Did you ever think that the Saviour title is just as oppressive as the Evil Queen?"

Regina crossed her arms and scoffed. "You're the Saviour. Automatically loved by all. Whatever you've been through you win in the end."

"You know what being the Saviour means, Regina?" Emma thundered around the island, taking determined strides toward the brunette. "You can't mess up. You always have to choose the path of goodness. If you even think about choosing a lesser of two evils, you're judged so harshly. Not just by my parents, or Henry, but this whole town. I can't fail. Never. The only way you can go is up."

"As everyone else throws rocks on you on the climb up," Regina added, meeting Emma nearly nose to nose. "Trust me, Saviour. You're not going to like what you see of the Evil Queen. I suggest you back out now."

Emma just shook her head, taking the book with her as she left because no matter what, even if they were fighting on the same side, they were always fighting. It was the one common factor between them that oddly worked because as much as they argued, it was a push in the right direction.

Regina rolled her eyes when Emma slammed the door shut, knowing it would be useless to reprimand her because come tomorrow night when they were friendly once more, the Saviour would just slam the door again. Her words settled slowly in Regina's brain. She knew the feeling; striving for perfection to get the attention and affection of her Mother, Rumpelstiltskin, even Robin when she realized his dislike for magic. But it was different. Regina had been bred for evil and had gotten the short end of the stick. Whatever Emma had gone through in foster care wouldn't hold a candle to a flame of Regina's upbringing.

But as the week went on and Regina began dreaming about forgotten birthdays, lonely lunches, and Christmas mornings with nothing more than a 'make your bed' Regina was beginning to realize that maybe Emma had just as much to hide as Regina did.

This time when it happened, one week into their begrudging acceptance that they could feel each other's memory, Regina was left shaking and fearful as she gripped her bedsheets in her fists and succumbed to the monster of her mind.

The little blonde girl in her dream scurried from her sleep at the first sound of footsteps on the landing and hid under her bed, the space too tight to easily squirm under. Adrenaline coursed through Regina, encouraging her to hide. She was just thin enough to slide under, one of the blessings that came from her constantly growling stomach, but the fear prickled through her veins like ice water. Her heart beat so loudly in her ears she worried it might attract attention. The footsteps stopped. The door opened. She gasped. Regina covered her face in her hands then screamed so loud there was no way others hadn't heard. The last thing she felt was the hardwood scraping her knees and the metal frame digging into her back as she was dragged from under the bed.

Regina woke with a start, her forehead slick with sweat and the feel of the man's large, rough hands on her ankle. Her nose had still tingled with the stench of alcohol and BO when she removed herself from her bed that night and dialed Emma frantically. She didn't know what she was going to say, but all she wanted to do was make sure Emma was okay.

"What's wrong?" Emma's groggy voice sounded through the line. Despite the hour Regina could hear shuffling on Emma's end as if the blonde was getting ready to leave at a moment's notice. "You guys okay?"

It took Regina a long moment to calm her beating heart. A trip to the washroom with Emma on speaker was much needed with the Saviour waiting patiently as Regina ran the tap and splashed her face with cold water. She scrubbed at her arms where she felt the man grip her until they were red and raw. Then Regina sat on the edge of the bath, door locked as a secondary precaution and her palm tingling with magic should anyone choose to sneak into her room at this hour. Her breathing on the line was the only indicator that she was still alive and relatively well, but at Emma's second round of questioning, Regina found her voice.

Hoarse as it was, she was able to summon enough courage to ask her own question. "Are you okay?"

"What?" Emma was more awake now, no doubt thoroughly confused. "Regina, you called me."

The brunette swallowed and nodded, running wild fingers through her damp bangs. "I just need to know you're okay."

"I'm fine?"

"Good, good."

A beat passed and when Regina refused to divulge more or hang up, the shifting gears in Emma's head clicked. In a voice so quiet it almost shook Regina to realize she had heard it before, coming it from a younger, shyer Emma, the blonde whispered. "What did you see?"

Regina's body immediately tensed, and though she was a grown woman and had her own threats removed, more often than not by her own hand, she couldn't shake the disgust and bile rising in her throat. She didn't even know what had resulted of being found under the bed, but her racing heart told her it wasn't good.

"Regina," the blonde prompted. "What happened to me?"

"You were eight," Regina began shakily. "It looked that way at least. You woke in the middle of the night and hid under your bed."

"Oh."

Dread filled Regina's chest at Emma's despondent realization.

"That's Mr. Mirchov."

She waited with bated breath for Emma to continue, but the blonde remained silent. "What did he do to you?"

Emma chuckled dryly. The springs of her bed creaked under her, and Regina assumed neither was falling back asleep just yet. "What does it matter. I turned out the winner, right?"

Regina wanted to throw up again for a whole new reason as her words were thrown back at her. "I—I'm—" She took a staggering breath and clutched at the towel over the tub. "That was insensitive of me. I'm so sorry to have assumed."

There was a moment where Regina thought Emma would dismiss her again, but with a quiet, "it's okay", both breathed just a bit easier.

Regina didn't ask what happened again; it wasn't her place to pry. It wasn't okay and she knew it. For now, she was content with Emma on the line even if it was too late in so many ways.

Emma had been fine, if not a little unnerved by the 3am call and that Regina was getting more than longing to be the popular kid and to have a backpack that didn't rip. It still rattled Regina to think that Emma had reacted too quickly in her dream. Eight years old and she had already learned how to hide. The thought had made her shudder. They had remained silent on the phone for nearly another hour before Regina's body eventually calmed and she quietly whispered a goodnight. It didn't stop Regina from lying awake at night, remembering the days when she and Emma had fought together in Neverland and remembering the sympathy the blonde had in her eyes whenever they encountered the Lost Boys. She was one too.

Despite their Author hunt the town still needed to run, and halfway through examining potential bylaws, Snow's call had come in demanding Regina's presence at the loft. Emma wasn't fine anymore. She was worried that her call had triggered something in Emma she had long since repressed, but she wasn't expecting what she found when she stormed the Charming's apartment.

That was when their little shared memories conundrum began to escalate.

The only words she had managed to decipher were 'Emma' and 'hurt', and that was more than enough reason to poof herself out of her office and in front of the Charming apartment. She ran into the three storey building as fast as her heeled boots could take her, and with little fanfare, she burst through the door to see Emma cowering in the corner, Snow kneeling in front of her cautiously, David retrieving a pack of frozen peas and handing it to Hook who was sporting a black eye.

Regina almost momentarily forgot why she had been summoned when delight from Hook's injury coursed through her, but then Emma yelled, and that hadn't been a Saviour-grunt or a clumsy-Emma yelp. No, Regina had heard that sound just last night. She had made that sound last night, her throat still itching with harsh vibrations.

She darted to the corner about to ask what happened when she saw the book, opened on the coffee table to an image she had spent years forgetting. Regina, eighteen years old and dressed up like a Queen, and Leopold, his knuckles grazing her cheek. The picture almost looked romantically coy, but the bile she could never stop from rising whenever she thought of the King surfaced. It was her duty after all, as future Queen. They had to consummate their marriage, of course, and she was so, so beautiful.

"Don't touch me," Emma warned, curling in on herself.

"Emma, it's me. It's your mother," Snow pleaded.

"You look just like him," the blonde muttered into her knees.

Snow looked up at Regina confused. They had discovered that morning after the first incident that even Henry with the Heart of the Truest Believer couldn't see the newly revealed pages, so why would Snow? Emma's behaviour must have been seemingly random to the Charmings and their pirate mascot, so Regina crouched slowly, the flooring hard against her knees as she inched forward.

"Emma. Emma, he's not real. He can't hurt you."

"What are you—" Regina hushed Snow with a raised palm.

"Emma." Regina reached out her hand then, her palm hovering over Emma's forearm curled over her head. Even from this distance Regina could feel the tension coiling inside the Saviour. But she wasn't the Saviour just then, was she? She was that lonely, scared little girl Regina had been dreaming out.

"Let me try," Hook insisted, the bag of peas pathetically pressed against his eye as he sauntered into the living room.

"Do you want a shiner to match?" David warned. Hook grumbled and pressed firmly on the bag.

"I have to, I have to, I have to," Emma mumbled so quietly to herself it may as well have been gibberish, but it stopped Regina cold. She heard those words before. She'd said those words before. No longer was the privacy she so kept close to her chest a need but a necessity because no one, especially not Emma, deserved to fall victim to a child-bride.

"Emma," Regina repeated breathily. "I'm going to put my hand on your arm. Can I?"

It took a minute, but the blonde eventually nodded, though with the perpetual shakiness it could have just been her body wracked with sobs. As soon as Regina pressed her hand to Emma's forearm, every intention of gently revealing the traumatized girl was thrown away as her mind's eye played a movie that her body was helpless but to feel.

Emma, fifteen years old and smiling giddily at a boy a few years her senior, his varsity jacket draped over her shoulders as they necked in the backseat of his car. Her heart sped up nervously when his hand moved from her breast down to her thigh and left nothing to the imagination as to what he wanted.

"W-wait."

He sighed disappointed. "Come on, Emma. We've been dating for over a month."

Was that how long people dated before going all the way? Even his hand on her chest was more than she had ever done with anyone. He groaned annoyed and pulled back.

"Wait." She pulled him in by the back of his neck and with shaky fingers guided his hand to the button of her jeans.

He grinned and kissed her aggressively, nearly stealing her breath as he fiddled with her zipper then his own. Her heart pounded in her ears. His jacket slipped from her shoulders. This is what couples did.

She cried out.

Regina pulled her hand back with a gasp, shame and guilt flooding through her as that boy's touch on her skin made her feel dirty and her thighs throbbed uncomfortably. A look around the room let her know that her momentary lapse didn't go unnoticed by David and Snow's concerned face, but she pushed the feeling aside and pressed her hand against Emma once more, grateful she hadn't been thrust back into that car with that over-Axed teen.

"Emma," Regina began again, voice unusually hoarse this time. "Can you look at me?"

The blonde stilled for a moment before finally lifting her head. Her eyes were red from crying though that was to be expected. What threw Regina off guard was the cold, distant gaze they had as if the last flicker of hope was about to be extinguished any second now. Regina didn't think about her time as Leopold's wife if she could help it, but Emma's eyes were like staring into a reflection and all Regina could breathe out was an, "I'm sorry."

Emma shook her head, the tension still tightening her body, but her mind clearing. "You're sorry?"

"Emma." Snow rushed to her daughter's side as soon as coherent words were out of her mouth, but the move made the blonde flinch.

"Just—just—one moment," Emma pleaded.

Regina gave Snow credit. She was learning when her daughter desperately needed space, so with a nod to both men in the room, Snow retreated to Neal's bassinet, scooped her youngest in her arms, and led her husband out the door.

Hook, on the other hand, had no wits about him as he unceremoniously dropped the bag of peas on the coffee table, swaggered over to the crouched women, and lowered to a knee himself. "I'll take it from here, Your Majesty."

He made to tug Emma up to her feet, but the blonde recoiled, whipping her hands away from his reach. "Not now. Please go."

"But—Swan."

Regina fixed him with a stare that was all glare and clear warning, and the pirate took note that his presence wasn't required. When the door closed shut behind him, Regina turned back to Emma. Her knees were still up, but her arms were draped tiredly over them like she had lost a fight. Her head hit the wall with a thud.

"He smells like him," she confessed quietly.

"You can see why I don't do rum." She hoped the playfulness in her voice could relieve the tension, but Emma just shut her eyes, no doubt putting herself in the prison of her mind—or Regina's rather. Showing mercy on her knees, Regina sat cross-legged on the ground.

"How old were you?" Emma nearly demanded, fingers fidgeting as she chipped the polish off her nails.

"Eighteen."

"Jesus," she let out in a low whoosh. "And Mary Margaret was—"

"Twelve." At Emma's green face, Regina disclaimed, "it wasn't unusual to marry that young."

"Is it usual to have to mother a child who's six years younger than you?"

"It's not unheard of here either."

"Why are you protecting him?" Emma snapped, her palms smacking the floor in outrage. "He hurt you! Don't tell me it was just the times because he was older and a king. He was so much older and he should have known better and saw that you were scared. You weren't ready. I was just a kid, goddammit!"

Regina quirked an eyebrow at that, and it took a moment for Emma to backpedal. "You. You were just a kid."

She scoffed dryly, flicking her hair off her shoulder. "It's not him I'm trying to protect."

Emma's eyes snapped up to hers with confused curiosity until they softened in understanding. There was no way Emma had just witnessed what Regina had, and for a moment, Regina wondered if they were thinking of the same incident. She shuddered hating to think there was more than one. "I'm a big girl, Regina. I can take care of myself."

"Could you when you were fifteen?" Emma's eyes flashed. Regina bit her lip. She hadn't meant to say anything about the flashback, but Emma was clearly reacting from experience, one she hadn't quite gotten over yet or refused to acknowledge in full form. It was Regina's turn to backtrack as she ran fingers through her hair. "My past isn't some story in a book, Ms. Swan. It's not pretty. If you would like to back out then I wouldn't blame you."

"I'm not gonna back out, Regina. I promised you that I'd help you get your happy ending, even if I have to write it myself. I just—I didn't expect you to be that scared. With your mom, I got it. She scared the crap out of me too, but this guy—God, I'm related to him?" Emma winced mentally pushing that thought aside.

"I was," Regina admitted, in a voice so quiet even she had trouble recognizing it. "I was terrified. Daniel and I, we never had anything more than a few stolen kisses, so by my wedding night, my Mother of all people told me it would hurt but it wouldn't last long, that she was proud of me."

"Proud that your husband was a sixty-year old perv?"

"Proud that I was moving up in the world as Queen."

"I don't think it was worth the cost."

"No," Regina admitted. "I would have loved to live the rest of my life in a rundown shack with someone who loved me instead of pretending to rule a kingdom."

"A house on a hill," Emma filled in quietly. "With horses and a farm and kids running across the field."

Regina's eyes widened in recognition. She hadn't thought about what could have been with Daniel in so long, but it was still fresh to Emma. She nodded solemnly. "Yes. But if I had to do it all over again at the chance to change my past, I wouldn't."

"No?"

She shook her head. "It got me Henry."

The blonde nodded in agreement, but her throat bobbed as she gulped in thought. "Was—was that the only time?"

"Yes," Regina lied easily, because even now if she thought about it too much, the vulnerability that made her feel so weak would creep under her skin and she'd never be able to get up in the mornings. "I was more for show than I was his wife."

Emma's eyes traced over her features and after a bout of inspection where Regina felt so utterly exposed, a feat only Emma could accomplish, the blonde smiled sadly. "Don't forget. I can tell when you're lying."

"I had him killed," Regina provided after a moment.

"Good." Regina's breath hitched. She had seen a hint of darkness in the Saviour in Neverland, but that was a place that highlighted your weaknesses and forced you into immoral situations. The self-satisfied snarl on the Saviour's lips was more than just a bad story read in a book. It made her wonder what other demons Emma had fought long before she entered their town.

"That boy, when you were fifteen," Regina began cautiously because she still felt a phantom pressure against her breast and Axe suffocating her nostrils, "what became of him?"

Emma snorted dryly. "He was a senior. I was the loner freshman who thought she was so lucky. Really, he just found out I was a foster kid and thought I'd be easy." The blonde spoke so freely, but the way her hands continued to fidget, Regina knew it wasn't that easy. "He broke up with me after that night and pretended I didn't exist. I actually saw him when me and Henry were in New York. He's got the big house, big car, and hot wife."

"I can loan you an Agrabah viper," Regina offered.

Emma laughed, a boisterous deep chuckle that shouldn't have made Regina grin given the circumstances, but it did. It made her smile that despite who Regina was, Emma didn't judge her or feel sorry for her. She just understood.

"A viper, huh? I thought poisoned apples were more your thing."

"They're poisoned with sleeping curses," Regina pointed out. "Vipers, on the other hand—they're more effective. It's the equivalent of this world's arsenic."

"You've thought this through," the blonde said impressed.

"I had eighteen long years to think before Henry." Regina leaned over and pressed her palm to the top of Emma's knee, catching eye contact with the younger woman. "I know you might not be okay, but what can I do to make it better?"

Emma bit her bottom lip looking almost hesitant to speak, but at Regina's insistent stare, she said, "Henry says you make a really good hot chocolate. Better than Granny's."

Regina playfully rolled her eyes but used Emma's planted legs to pull herself up. She offered her hand to Emma who took it as the two women made their way to the kitchen, not realizing their fingers were still linked.

The touch that catapulted Regina to the backseat of a car as some loser high school senior groped her was more than just a fluke. It continued to happen more and more often, and it was getting awkward to acknowledge just how much she and Emma touched for flashes of emotion to spike through her.

It had only occurred when Emma was experiencing intense emotions. Henry had made the badminton team and pulled both his mothers into a hug. Emma had been exceptionally proud then, and for a moment, Regina saw a teenage Emma having fun with Ingrid at a fair. Then Regina and Emma were having a budget meeting in her office when Hook strode in like she had some open door policy, and when she scooted behind Emma to show Hook the door, a flurry of secondary anger swept through her that fueled her own. Her favourite bout of mutual emotion had been when Emma had stayed for dinner last week, and when her foot brushed against the blonde's calf under the table right as Emma had taken a bite of lasagna, deep satisfaction ran toward her core that made Regina cross her legs even tighter and redden her cheeks. She was sure it wasn't supposed to feel that way.

If these visions of sorts kept up in intensity, sooner or later Regina and Emma wouldn't be able to be in the same room as each other. Sure, it was dreams, readings, and touches for now, but would it escalate with just a look? A mere presence of the other?

Regina had seen things—felt things—that Emma had gone through. It was strange how much the memories of Emma jumped from time to time, the blonde being nothing more than a toddler in one, a teen in the next, and then a child in another. There was no rhyme or reason to Emma's life, and Regina was almost jealous of that. Emma's life was her own, filled with random bursts of thought whenever she saw fit. But with Regina's, the cyclical nature of the book presenting her story made her just that. Nothing more than a character within a page. Maybe that was all she was. Her life set in stone as certain as the words inked in the fibers.

She never voiced as much to Henry or Emma that night when the blonde came over for dinner. Emma had originally told her parents and Killian that she was helping Regina with a project, and though they did discuss Operation Mongoose, the night unofficially turned into a night off from the job. Dinner, homework help, and an episode of Motive were all that occurred during their little project, and by the time the program ended with Henry tucked into bed, Emma was too tired to drive home. It was only polite of Regina, of course, to offer the woman who vowed to help find her happy ending the guest room to sleep for the night. A grateful smile was passed between them, and whether it was that, or the fact that they had actually been getting on a lot better, but Regina had a dream that didn't leave her saddened by Emma's past.

A girl, not much older than Emma at the time, with dark eyes, dark hair, and a wickedly mischievous smile filled her thoughts. Regina chased after her, laughing wildly as they ran through a park in the middle of the night. They suddenly collapsed in an open clearing, Regina's bag spilling of treats and the girl's pocket packed with a drink each. The moonlight and stars brightened up their grinning faces as they lay side by side. She was out of breath, exhilarated, her heart thumping, but more importantly, she felt. . .safe.

Regina recognized this feeling whenever she was with Henry, even sometimes when both she and Emma would wrap their arms around their son. Warmth, security, home.

Regina hadn't gotten much more than that, the two girls laying under the night sky, but this time she didn't wake feeling nauseated and small. Quite honestly she felt like she was on top of the world.

It took Regina all day, after waking both Henry and Emma for breakfast and then heading to work herself, to finally ask Emma just who that girl was. She hadn't meant to. She was actually hoping to have the dream again before confronting Emma, but when she walked into the Sheriff's station with some reports and found Hook in her office, his hand draped on her shoulder, Regina saw the tension there. Come to think of it, she had seen that posture many times before. A younger Emma in an uncomfortable situation.

"Sheriff Swan." Regina cleared her throat, glaring pointedly at Hook. The pirate removed his hand and returned the glare before bending over and kissing Emma on the cheek. Regina smiled tightly as he departed, refusing to move out of his way and forcing him to bypass her.

When they were finally alone, Emma muttered a quiet "thanks."

"For what, dear?" Regina stepped further into her office and shut the door behind her.

Emma's ears turned red and she shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. What's up?"

"Why do you like him?" Regina suddenly demanded, sitting at the edge of Emma's desk.

The question caught the blonde off guard. The weeks had opened them to more casually intimate conversation, but Regina clearly struck a chord in the blonde. She usually would revel in such unpreparedness, but she really wanted to know what was so appealing about his permanent broodiness and his lack of hand. After everything Emma had been through, why was she so attracted to foul men in leather jackets?

"He likes me," she provided simply.

"But why do you like him?"

"Why do you like Robin?"

"He's my soul mate," the brunette deadpanned.

"And that's enough for you? You. Regina Mills, who in all the three years I've known you, would never settle for anything but the best."

Regina raised an eyebrow, a warning that this was not the time for that.

"Regina," Emma sighed. "Please? Can we not do this right now?"

"Do what? I'm just asking you what you find so attractive about your boyfriend. Why is that difficult for you to answer?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I have never seen you look at him or any of the other leather-clad wearing, never-shaving macho men the way you look at..."

"What?" Emma stood bewildered, her hands on her hips. "You?"

"What?" Regina swallowed tightly and Emma looked befuddled.

The blonde averted her gaze. Regina shook her head dismissing the tangent. She had not meant to bring up the girl from her dreams, but clearly she was not who Emma had linked to. Still, after experiencing so much pain in Emma's life, Regina wanted to know who the one person who was her light was. "I saw a girl," Regina explained slowly. "A teenager. You were about fourteen."

Emma gasped then, and if she had been nervous about her past foster parents, the sadness and regret in her eyes mirrored what Regina felt every time she thought about Emma's upbringing and how she had been the cause of it.

"Lily." The name was whispered, barely given a breath, yet Emma looked like she was about to pass out from lack of oxygen. She swallowed again and took a step closer. "You saw Lily?"

Regina nodded once. "Who is she?"

Emma descended slowly to her chair, and Regina moved the visitor's chair over so that they were facing one another. She didn't know what possessed her, but she reached out, meaning to stroke Emma's arm reassuringly, but the second she made contact, they both gasped, a shared memory between the two.

Emma and Lily were in a living room, playing video games and laughing, and Emma looked at Lily, and Lily looked at Emma, and the warmth that flooded through them couldn't be ignored. They could run away together. A modern day Thelma and Louise. They could keep each other safe and keep each other happy, and they'd be together.

Regina ripped her hand away, and Emma's wide eyes forgot to be lost in thought as they questioned Regina. "You saw that?"

She nodded. "And felt it too."

Emma took a moment to gather herself. Seeing Lily on that video had brought back a lot of memories, but literally reliving it—a sad smile graced her face.

"She was my best friend," Emma answered. "I met her stealing a box of pop tarts and she helped me out, and that month where we'd just accidentally on purpose keep bumping into each other was the best month of my life."

"Who was she though?"

"Another runaway, at least that's what she told me." Emma rifled through her drawer and pulled out a locked box. She opened it and retrieved a camera, setting it up for Regina to see. "We'd part ways at the end of the night, but we found each other come morning, and eventually we were just on the move together."

Regina reached out when Emma offered her the camera, smiling at fourteen year old Emma and this Lily girl with fondness. "She was just a friend?" Regina questioned, watching them make faces at the camera.

Emma titled her head in thought, and after a minute of quiet, she rolled her chair closer to Regina's so that they could both watch the tiny screen. They both laughed when Lily had apparently tickled Emma's side and the girls fell on top of one another.

"I don't think I knew what love was back then," Emma quietly admitted. "I didn't really have much of it. I always thought Neal was my first love. But you don't need to sleep with someone to love them, do you?"

Regina looked up, catching the wonder in green eyes, and smiled herself. "No. No you don't."

The video cut to the Ice Queen, a time Emma was still sensitive about, and Regina returned the camera, another question on the tip of her lips.

"Hook. Do you...love him?" Regina repeated with cautioned curiosity.

Emma opened her mouth before shutting it in thought. She took the moment to return the camera to its box before tilting her head curiously at Regina. "Okay, I'll answer that if you answer mine."

Regina bit the inside of her lip before nodding her agreement reluctantly. "Fine."

With a wave of her hand, Emma had locked the station door and a silencing spell was cast over the room. It seemed as if the Saviour didn't want to be overheard. Regina nodded her head impressed as she watched Emma stretch in her chair, hands behind her head in thought.

"I think so?"

"Is that a question?"

"I don't know," the blonde admitted, moving her gaze from ceiling to Regina. "Ever since...you know...I can barely stand to be around him, but he loves me. I know he does, and it's nice just to, I don't know."

"To feel wanted." They finished on the same note.

"Yeah," Emma said in wonderment before quirking her lip up in wry amusement. "Are these memories making us say the same things too?"

Regina smiled tightly, but in actuality, she knew Emma's predicament. She had lived in that situation numerous times. Robin's face came to mind as she wondered if pixie dust and true loves were just self-fulfilling prophecies: they worked because you wanted them to. Being wanted seemed a good enough reason as a lion tattoo.

"I could," Emma continued to explain. "In time. Maybe. I think. I could love him and look at him the way he looks at me, but it's nice not having to try so hard. Especially in this town where we're faced with something every month, a relationship that's just there isn't so bad."

"But are you happy?"

"I've got Henry," she declared by way of answer, reaching over to clasp Regina's arm in fondness. "And my parents, and my brother, and you're here too. Lily was a comforting time in my life, but I've got a future I'm looking forward to."

Regina mulled over the answer. She noticed the deflection but figured Emma wouldn't say anything more.

"Now my turn," the blonde clapped, striking up a smile that dismissed the earlier vulnerability from her voice, "when we find this Author, what do you want them to do? Write back Robin and Roland into the story?"

The question took Regina off guard. A few weeks ago, Regina would have seriously contemplated saying yes, giving a brief hesitation about Marian's outcome before deciding Marian would find love elsewhere, but now she wasn't so sure. Pixie dust had led her to Robin once. A tattoo had brought him to her again. And now this Author could very well write them a happily ever after. They say the third time's a charm, but that's as good as saying fool me twice, and Regina was no fool.

But they were making progress, weren't they? She wasn't experiencing Emma's memories for naught, and the book wasn't revealing her past for the heck of it. Just now they had shared a memory together. If this wasn't the track she was supposed to be on, then what was the point?

Regina rubbed the back of her neck. "I don't know, quite honestly."

"Really?" Emma's eyebrows lifted in surprised. "No winning the lottery, cruise around the world, super pow—well, another house?"

"Those are all trivial," Regina scoffed.

"Then what would you ask them to write?"

Regina opened her mouth again then shut it, her shoulder rolling nonchalantly. "For me to be happy."

"Aren't you?" Emma's question has been riddled with genuine confusion that made Regina reel back. In this current moment, yes she was happy. Henry was safe, the town wasn't in danger, and she and Emma were on more than amicable terms. Hell, she had even babysat for the Charmings. "I don't mean to question, I'm just wondering what you would want. Maybe we can start from there. I know it's been a cycle of having good things taken away from you, but—"

"No." Regina held up her hand and stood because the Saviour had a point. "I like your plan."

"Wait, what?"

"You're not terribly incompetent for ideas, Emma," Regina tittered. She reached over, her hand falling on Emma's shoulder with an affectionate squeeze and that same electricity crackled through her once more. "Perhaps we can pause our search of the Author and spend more time with Henry."

"Both of us?"

"Well, you did want to be involved, did you not?"

"Yeah, yeah," Emma was quick to agree. "But you'd be okay with me being there?"

Regina smiled. "More than okay."