Even for an ER, it was chaotic.

The gurney carrying Storybrooke Chief of Police Emma Swan burst through the doors like an explosion, voices shouting instructions, questions and commands. A phalanx of doctors and nurses ran to meet it like particles pulled into a meteor tail, everyone attaching themselves to the running crowd, sprinting straight to the closest triage room, leaving a large man in a bloody tank top alone in its wake.

Robert looked around dumbly, unsure of what to do or where to go. It was suddenly quite quiet, everyday conversations, keyboards tapping and the soft drone of the nearby waiting lounge TV filling the air. The coppery smell of blood still filled his nostrils, but was now mixed with the telltale antiseptic aroma of a hospital.

A kind-faced woman in scrubs tapped him on the shoulder. "C'mon," she offered softly. "Let's get you changed."

He stepped out of men's room in a pair of pair of light blue scrubs, bloody clothes gathered in a bag in case State Police needed them for evidence, procedural instinct still strong despite the trauma of the day. Folding his frame into a plastic chair in an empty corner of the waiting room, Robert propped his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, his phone to one ear and dialed.

"Mama," he began, but upon hearing her voice quickly lost whatever tenuous hold he had on himself, emotions finally bursting through as he sobbed into his hands.

Ten minutes later, head still bowed, Robert was sniffling and wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands when he heard footfalls approaching.

"Gotta go, I'll call you back," he ended, lifting his eyes to a severe-looking nurse. "Are you with the Chief?"

"Yes."

"She's headed into surgery."

"So she's—"

"—in surgery. Are you her health-care proxy?"

Robert, paused, unsure of the right answer. "The proxy is on the way," he lied.

"Then we'll fill him in when he gets here. I'll be at the nurses station."

"She — the proxy's a she," he supplied, unsure why he felt the need.

The nurse stopped, turned, nodded tersely, and set off again, not quite comforting but not quite rude, just about right for every ER head nurse he'd ever met.

Picking up the phone once more he made the call he'd be dreading.

"What's going on? Where are you?" No "Hello" or "Where are you?" Kathryn's questions were frantic and desperate, the naked emotion washing over him like a powerful wave thundering onto the shore.

He opened his mouth to speak but choked on the words, throat sore from the yelling and crying. "ER." A breath shuddered out roughly. "Emma…she's….she's in surgery. You both should be here."

"How is she?"

"I don't know, they won't tell me. I assume Regina's her proxy."

"God, I have no idea."

"Just get here," he stated, half an order, half a request. "I…need you guys."

Fifteen minutes later, the women tore into ER waiting room to find Robert curled in on himself, head on bent knees, arms cradling his head like he couldn't bear to lift it.

"Robert?"

From the moment Kathryn mentioned the hospital, Regina was filled with searing pain, chest tight and burning, as if she were holding a breath and could not exhale. The moment she saw Robert in a crumbled heap, her own anxiety was quickly shuffled to the side, her only thought and need to comfort him.

"Hey…" Robert felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see the two women. Kathryn looked pale, worn and worried, but Regina's eyes, though tired, were full of love, a fact that made him tear up again.

"Sssshhh." Regina gently hugged the man into her waist, his long arms wrapped around her torso. "It's going to be fine. She'll be OK, she has to be. You and I have so much yelling to do at her. You think she's going to get out of that?" I sound like Emma, she thought with a small smile.

Kathryn looked on, feeling like an intruder. She didn't know Robert well, but instinctively knew he was a proud man who probably didn't want a potential girlfriend to see him in such a vulnerable state, at least not yet. She tapped Regina on the shoulder and mimed drinking with her hand: I'm going to the caf. The brunette nodded gratefully.

But before she left, she gently pushed Regina away from Robert and stepped into her place. Tenderly placing her hands on each side of his head, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Once Kathryn walked away, Regina moved right back in, cradling him once more. She swayed gently, rubbing her friend's shoulders and whispering hushed assurances until she felt him pull away. "I can't…" he began, holding up his hands. "I tried and…I can't get her blood off my hands."

A chill ripped through Regina's body as she spied the dried blood caked into his cuticles. She tamped down any sadness, her tone light and motherly, as if he simply fell off a swing and needed a Band Aid.

"Let's take care of that," she gently ordered, holding him by the hand and guiding him to the ladies room. With soap, warm water and a paper towel, she softly scrubbed his nail beds, pink water sluicing down the drain.

"So this is the ladies room," he deadpanned, breaking the silence. "I always thought there was a wet bar in here with y'all going in groups." There was little inflection or emotion, but the essence was right. There you are, Regina thought.

"I wish you weren't gayer than a unicorn humping a rainbow, we woulda made a great pair. Wait, Swan is pretty manly, maybe you do like guys." A little more emotion and teasing in that one, Robert's spirit began to rebound slowly like a frozen limb warming from the cold.

"Oh, she's all woman, believe me."

"I don't want to think about her all-womanness."

"You started it," she noted with a soft chuckle. "Plus, I hear there's someone who you might make a great pair with."

Brown eyes shone a little brighter. "There is."

Regina examined his hands once more and deeming them clean, patted them dry with a paper towel: "There. All better."

Looking down at his hands and then at his friend's warm face, Robert gathered her in his arms and kissed the top of her head, which reeked of smoke.

"Love you, Mightyfine."

"And I love you."

"C'mon," he began, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "Let's go find Kat."

They exited the ladies room to find Kathryn holding a tray of coffee and Pastor Pat approaching with soft eyes. "Regina…" he began, but stopped, watching in horror as she immediately passed out into Robert's arms.

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"Regina?"

The question hung muted and low, far away and fuzzy.

"Regina? C'mon, honey, open your eyes." The brunette tried to follow the voice, willing it louder and more clear, fighting to lift heavy lids and the thick fog that swirled in time with the loud whoosh of her pulse in her ears. She felt a soothing sensation on her calf, a rhythmic stroking that made her want to stay asleep, not wake up.

"Let's go, girl. Emma's the lazy one. We need you full-tilt."

Robert. Lids fluttering, she squinted as bright fluorescent lights nearly blinded her.

A voice she couldn't place sounded out: "I'll go get the P.A.", followed by footsteps fading into the distance.

Blinking a few times, then finally focusing, she found Kathryn and Robert side by side on the right of her…hospital bed?

"You passed out."

Panic flooded Regina's body as she tried to sit up. "Is she—"

"She's still in surgery," Robert answered. "Don't get up, try to relax. The padre there was just coming over to see if you needed anything."

Mortified, her lips parted. Poor Pat was coming to help and I fainted at the sight of him.

"Don't be embarrassed, he understood," Kathryn soothed.

"I've never fainted before in my life."

"Well, there's a first time for everything. This time last year, you didn't date chicks and now you're super gay." Robert chuckled as Kathryn lightly swatted him on the arm. "Hey, it's true."

The blonde smirked and shook her head. "Here, have some water. They're going to want to check your blood pressure before they let you out of this bed." Regina took a long, grateful sip off the Styrofoam cup.

"You need to be 100%," Robert informed her, "Mama and Henry are coming back tomorrow."

"What?"

"She wants to be up here, I had to talk her out of coming today. She's gonna go berserk waiting for tomorrow. I'm sure she'll be cooking all day to keep herself busy and come up with that car loaded with food and Tiny Boss."

"But Henry—"

"—needs his mommas. And you need him. And so will ya damn woman once she wakes up."

"But where—"

"Relax, we'll get a hotel."

"I didn't mean—"

"I know, relax. Let's, like, wait until the genius gets out of surgery and see what's up. I gotta hook up with Marty and the guys, see if we can salvage any of our stuff, and the statie already texted me that they're coming to take my statement later."

"Where?" Kathryn asked.

"Probably here. I'm not leaving until she's out of surgery."

Regina's eyes widened at the realization of the one obvious question she should have asked the minute she walked through the ER doors.

"Robert," she began urgently, "what on earth happened?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he pulled over a chair, motioning for Kathryn to sit. He sat on the end of the bed, one long leg still on the floor. Although used to running on little sleep and lots of action, Robert was tired. The adrenaline had long ago burnt off, replaced by exhausting emotion. Exhaling slowly, he began, "So, we get to the Pines' driveway and find your car…"

The trio passed the time in hours, uncomfortable chairs, and shitty coffee, refusing to budge until they were ensured Emma was alive. Robert knew he would never forget the desperate look on Regina's face as she listened to the surgeon explain Emma's wounds, surgery and prognosis just outside her hospital room.

"Now, all of you, please go home and get some sleep," he urged gently.

Robert gently stretched his neck in slow circle to work out the kinks. "We look that bad, huh?"

"First-year resident," he threw over his shoulder as he walked away. "Get out of here."

"That's just me, girls," Robert yawned, slinging an arm over Regina's shoulder. "You two are as fine as ever." He looked, around, suddenly confused. "Where's Kat?"

Regina pointed into Emma's darkened room, where she could just make out Kathryn's tall frame standing next to the bed. "I can't tell if she's crying or if she's going to suffocate her."

"Even money, I'd say," he snorted. "I'm going to toss some water on my face so I can drive us all home without running off the road. I feel like a hot bucket of fuck."

Regina smirked as Robert walked away, leaning into the doorframe, wondering what her best friend was up to.

"I fucking told you, you idiot," Kathryn hissed, tears threatening to spill out of tired eyes. She had been the rock all day, for the fiancée, for the best friend. She had no reason to cry, really. They were colleagues, they were just teasing friends. "Regina has been through this once, don't be a selfish asshole and make her go through it again. I…I don't know if I can put her back together if…" She shuddered, breaths catching in her throat as she ran a hand through her hair. "I fucking knew it, the moment I saw you two at Ruby's cookout, you were both so gone, god."

The oxygen machine wheezed, helping Emma's lungs do their job in light of the trauma.

"Regina needs you. Robert needs you." She nearly choked, a name she hadn't considered popping into her brain with painful accuracy. "Henry," she gulped, a golf-ball-sized lump in her throat. "Henry needs you." It hurt to even voice his name. "This shit always works on TV, so don't be an asshole, alright?"

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With the lights at half-power, the TV suspended from the ceiling the glowed brightly. Regina had turned the volume low with the remote tethered to the bed, but the sounds of the Red Sox game broke through here and there, with exclamations from the announcers following big plays. Emma likes baseball, she supplied to herself.

She sat in the thinly cushioned chair to the right of the bed, going through the motions of reading the monthly reports from the various department heads but retaining very little. Every few minutes, her eyes would automatically shift to Emma, lying peacefully inclined in the bed. Were she not hooked up to a large, slow-draining IV bag, it could have been Emma sleeping in their bed at home, save for the fact that she rarely slept on her back nor kept her hands to herself. Every so often, Regina found herself picking up Emma's right hand, stroking her hand from palm from fingertips, gaze landing on her wrist, where the plastic ID band proclaimed: SWAN, EMMA F DOB 07/29/78 O POS

Sometimes she would place a kiss in the center of Emma's hand, other times she would hold Emma's palm to her cheek or thread their fingers together as if they were holding hands. Regardless of action, the plea was always the same, always whispered: "Come back to me."

While the private room was quiet, just outside the cracked door the hallway bustled with motion — voices, staff, rolling equipment, beeps, and the bright, stark lights of the post-op floor, where night never fell. Regina heard steps approaching and wondered who it was: The doctor had already finished rounds and the nurses had checked her vitals 15 minutes earlier. She glanced at the clock: 9:15 p.m. Too early for Robert to show up and all but forcibly drag her back to Emma's apartment. "Don't make me sling you over my shoulder and haul you out," he warned the first night. "I'll do it, you know I will." It had only been three days, but Regina and her makeshift family had fallen into a daily routine, which ended with Robert bringing the brunette home at 10 p.m. "If I don't, you'd never leave. You need your sleep and that tiny taskmaster needs to see you in the morning." Henry. She smiled to herself at just the echo of his name in her heart and their reunion, during she could not stop crying, and he could not quite understand why. "I just missed you so much!" she smiled through the tears, only to start again at his very next statement: "Where's Mom?"

"Regina?" Head turning to the door, she was pulled out of her reverie by the kind voice of an unexpected visitor.

"Archie," she breathed, "Hi."

The doctor walked in and placed a coffee tray on the rolling overbed table near Emma's unconscious form, then took Regina's hands in her own. "I hope I'm not intruding, but I wanted to see how you're doing. I know it's late, but I thought you might like a latte. It's decaf," he promised, extending the cup.

Regina's chest squeezed at the gesture. "I haven't had decent coffee in days, thank you. Sit."

Pulling up a seat, the pair sat. "How is she?"

"Stubbornly unconscious," Regina chuckled ruefully. "She can't kick this infection that developed, either from the…stabbing," it hurt to even voice it, "the surgery or the recovery. In addition to all the other damage they had to repair, they had to remove her spleen, which isn't helping her infection-fighting."

"Have they upped the antibiotics?"

"Twice."

"Has she woken up at all?"

Regina pursed lips, "No. And I want to be here when she does." When, not if, when.

"Of course. I don't want to impose, but if you want to talk, if it helps, I'm here. Now or any time."

Regina nodded as she stalled for time, taking a sip from the tall paper cup.

"Or I can just sit here and we can watch the game. What's the score?"

Regina chuckled. "No idea."

"Would you like me to leave?" The question was quiet and matter of fact, no offense or hurt implied.

"No, I…" She exhaled almost painfully. "My…ride…" she smirked at the term, "is coming to bring me home at ten o'clock."

"Oh, I'm your ride tonight, if you want," he smiled. "I spoke to…Robert, right?"

Regina nodded dumbly. "How do you—"

"I visited Laura today trying to find your contact information and she told me to talk to Robert. He seems like a fun guy."

"That may be an understatement."

"I couldn't get out to visit before now but he said this may be a good time and I could drive you to the Chief's apartment after."

"Do I have a curfew?" she teased.

"If you're not home by 11 I'm in trouble," he laughed. "Want me to stay?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk?"

"I don't know."

"Fair enough. Can I ask you a question?" He reached into a bag Regina didn't realize he had, brought out a scone, broke it in two and handed her half.

"OK."

"How did you two meet? Was it during work or outside of the work?" Archie chewed the pastry enthusiastically as he waited for an answer.

"Officially at her interview." Regina smiled at the memory. Emma in her business suit, bun, total professional. "But we ran into each other the day before she started, at the playground by the harbor."

Regina bit off a piece of scone, her smile widening. "Henry was playing and this loud muscle car turned into the parking lot…"

The pair ate, sipped and talked, neither watching the baseball game or noticing the slight movement of a right hand sporting a hospital ID bracelet.

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Emma shifted, hearing sounds: low, muted noises, like she was underwater listening to a conversation above the surface. Gradually, it got clearer, louder, until…

"I got 19."

"You can't have 19! You can never have a score of 19."

"Oh, please. Count this: 15-2, 15-4—"

Cracking an eye, she turned her head to the right and saw Bell and Robert playing cards.

"Shut up, you two, Jesus." In her head the statement came out perfectly, but what she heard via her ears was more like a faint, voice-cracking, indecipherable whimper.

"Chief!" Bell's head snapped up from the cards.

"Finally!" Robert tried to sound annoyed but failed spectacularly.

"Where's Regina?" Emma's throat was so dry, her voice low and hoarse, escaping in a croak.

"At work. She's been splitting time between here and the office. We're trying to keep her busy till your lazy ass woke up."

Bell stood, instinctively knowing it was time to go. Walking over to Emma, she patted a leg tucked firmly under a thin hospital blanket.

"I'm glad you're awake," she noted softly, voice wavering a touch.

"Thanks, Shannon. Come back and visit later?"

"Sure. I gotta school that one, he's the lousiest cribbage player I've ever seen."

"Go arrest a runaway cow or something." Robert winked at the petite blonde as she walked out the door.

"She was super worried about you."

"Yeah?"

"I like her, she's a tough little thing. Reminds me of a young, feisty you, I—"

"—Regina…how she is?" Emma immediately felt guilty for sidetracking into Bell, mind still warming up after the extended slumber, unable to keep up with all the thoughts in her head.

"About what you'd think. Barely sleeping, barely eating, despite me and Kathryn nagging her, which is impressive in and of itself."

"The nagging or not listening to you?"

"Both. She'll be here later, I'm sure. She usually checks in with me, I give her the 'Your shiftless woman is still sleeping' update , she has dinner with Tiny Boss, then comes over here."

"Henry's back?"

"And Mama."

"Oh." It took a few seconds for the implications of the statement to hack through her hazy brain. "He hasn't—"

"No, she didn't want him to see you like this. She just told him you're working."

"And Mama?"

"Busy cleaning your apartment and prepping to rip you a new one."

Emma groaned, rubbing her face as if she could force the fog from her head and pull everything into tight focus.

"Yeah, prepare for that one."

"Where are you guys staying?"

"Hotel. Kat offered her place, but it seemed too weird. We're not even off jump street yet, I couldn't have us all living together yet, ya know? Mightyfine and the man are at your place."

Emma smirked at the thought of Mama P. and Kathryn meeting, not to mention cohabitating, even in the short term. It was the first light emotion she'd felt in what seemed like forever and even a tiny, uncontrollable giggle strained her abused stomach.

"Owww, shit," she hissed.

"Easy. They just put you back together." The pain dampened the amusement, Emma moving hands tentatively over her bandaging.

"What day is it?" she squinted.

"You, Sleeping Beauty, have been out for four days."

"What the hell?"

"Oh, yeah," he began, pulling his chair closer. "When you get stabbed, you get stabbed real good. Lemme call the doc, he can come in and check you out, and then I will fill your reckless, selfish self in."

An impossibly young-looking doctor soon entered, smiling to see the hospital's most famous patient conscious. "Let's see what's going on…"

She groggily fielded his questions, vision and consciousness becoming clearer with each answer. Robert sat unobtrusively, quietly, in the corner as the doctor explained how the stab wound nearly killed her, resulting in massive blood loss and an 8-hour surgery to repair damage to her left lung, part of her intestines and her now-missing spleen.

"Is that why I feel like I was run over by a truck?"

"Well, that and the infection you developed the day after the surgery. We had to up the antibiotics twice to get it under control. Keeping you unconscious was the easiest way to limit the stress on your organs and let your body begin to first defend and heal."

As she was gently checked out, fragments of the past days floated back, but it was hard to know what was real and what was a figment of her still-cloudy mind. She could remember bits and pieces, like watching a TV show half asleep on the couch. There was definitely the smell of Regina's perfume and the feel of a hand holding hers and faint prayers. And, nah, couldn't be…

"Alright, Chief. We're going to do a workup and see if this infection is on the run. But you're up, so that is a good sign. Just rest up. If the results are good, we'll see if we can get that catheter out tonight, get you walking."

"Thank you." The doctor turned and left, Robert taking his place, folding himself into the popular bedside chair.

"Who was up here while I was out?"

"Me, Mightyfine, Mama, Bell." He bit his lip trying to put names with faces. "The young guy on days."

"Nolan."

"Yeah."

"The little crabby cop who does nights."

"Petit? Why'd you let him in?"

Robert shrugged. "Mightyfine wanted people here and she let Bell choose the cops. Oh, and your dispatcher, grandmotherly one."

"Martha was here?" Jesus, I wasn't hearing things.

"Yeah, she was a piece of work. She's come in, sit down and first thing change the channel to that station that only plays that show she likes."

"NCIS. My god, I heard some of that."

"Not surprising, you watched, like, 3 hours a day," he laughed. "We made Mightyfine go to work after Henry went to school, try to keep her mind off your dumb ass. Then everyone'd come in for an hour or two, just to sit with you. She'd pop in during lunch and then come back after dinner. If we didn't ban her and promise people would be here, she never would have slept, eaten or left. I like that little midget guy you got. He's feisty."

"How bad was this?"

"Dunno now. Few days ago, shit…" He stopped on a dime, voice shifting from casual annoyance to, literally, life and death. "You scared the fuck out of me, Emma, I'm not going to lie or joke it off." He scooted the hospital chair closed and rested his large hand on her thigh. "Don't ever, ever do that again."

"I—"

"Lemme finish. I was covered in your blood not that long ago, you owe me that much."

Eyes wide, she nodded solemnly.

"I know you're used to being alone and thinking you're alone, but it's not true. It wasn't true back home and it certainly isn't here. I always told you that, Mightyfine said she's told you that." Emma's eyes grew even larger. "Oh, yeah, we've been talking. I don't know if it's some self-defense mechanism or whatever, but you belong. In my family and, now, in your own. Stop acting like no one cares about you or love you. It's not about you anymore. Put them first."

She let the words sink in. The reality of them was harsh, only because it outlined what an incredibly stupid gamble she had taken.

"So what—"

Emma's question was cut off the second she glanced at her friend, whose eyes were suddenly shiny.

"No. No, no, no," she begged quietly. Robert was her rock and rocks don't cry. Plus the relief and sorrow on his face scared her, highlighting how close she had come to losing everything with her decision. "C'mon, man. St—"

"No, yourself. I…I've…" He shook his head. "I get to do this. It's what happens when you're worried about people you love and you have to accept it." He sniffed and wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I know this is weird, but, tough shit. It's your fault anyway. Don't do anything stupid like this again and you'll never have to see it."

It was awkward and uncomfortable to watch her best friend break down, but Emma silently watched, rubbing one side of his shoulder until he composed himself.

"You OK?"

"Yeah." He wiped his eyes with his sweatshirt sleeve and leveled her with a gaze. "You wanna hear how it ended?"

Emma nodded and exhaled, suddenly nervous. "Yeah."

"Wait." He stood and left the room, returning a few minutes later with two cups of crushed ice, straws and two cans of ginger ale. "My throat's killing me, yours must be dust," he noted, handing Emma's over.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Nurse's station. They love me, let me use their secret stash of soda, unlimited ice machine privileges. I'm a most favored nation."

"Kathryn been here?" Emma took a long sip, the cool, sugary, liquid instantly perking her up. Yes.

"Off and on."

"And what does she thinks of your, wait, what floor are we on?"

"Four."

"What does she think of your Fourth Floor Idol status?"

"She has a jealous streak."

"Already?"

Robert smirked and nodded. "Not so much in 'Don't you be lookin' at my man!'" he illustrated, complete with waving, threatening finger. "But she's been throwing side eye here and there."

Emma chuckled, forgetting how much it would hurt. "Ow, shit…that's cool, though."

"We went on our date."

"No, way!"

"Mightyfine made us, said we were making her nervous with all the hanging around," he laughed. "I think she just wanted us to go out."

"And?"

"And it was really good, despite the constant worry about my near-death best friend."

"I'm going to be paying for this for pretty much ever, huh?"

"Yes."

"So, are you, like, boyfriend-girlfriend?" she smirked. She took a pull on the straw to find she'd already finished her drink.

"Shut up. But you'll be seeing me more often, put it that way."

Emma snorted. "Oh, goodie. Wait, why are talking about your love life? Fill me in on what happened."

"Oh, yeah." He reached into a bag near his chair, pulled out a manila folder and tossed it on her overbed table. "That's the preliminary report. Figure you'd want to read it. But I'll fill in the gaps. So, after you got yourself stabbed like an asshole…"

For the next 45 minutes, he ran through the findings of the past four days. How Hiram was dead and found to be riddled with syphilis, so much so it was eating into his brain, turning him into the maniac Emma knew all too well.

"That's why he looked and acted so crazy, or, one of several reasons. That's some old-school, gangsta pimp shit. I'm almost impressed," Robert snickered. "Good thing that hillbilly kid didn't stick it in ya, he had it, too, but not as bad as the old man."

Now the sons were currently residing in the county lockup, "but not before helping the feds pull off that meth sting deal."

"When was that?"

"Following night."

"How'd they do it?"

"The feds stormed in and demanded everyone at the PD keep what went down at the Pines under wraps. Since it was so far in the woods, no one witnessed it and it was just our guys, your guys and the staties. For a couple of days, the official word was you were injured in the fire. But now it's all out in the open. SP had the boys run the Pine end two nights ago, feds swooped in and busted it up quite nicely, no injuries. Lots of arrests."

"Regina's house?"

"Structurally, a loss. Insurance's been in there trying to salvage what they could, Mightyfine's been working with them."

"Where have they been staying?"

"Your place. Really nice setup you got there," he tittered.

Emma was about to shoot back a colorful and very profane reply when a nurse walked in.

"Hey, Diane, look who's up."

"Chief, nice to see you. I need to take your vitals."

Emma held out her left arm while Robert stood. "I'm gonna go get some more ginger ale."

"You know where it is," the redhead replied with a smile, eyes focused on the blood pressure machine.

Emma couldn't stop her eye roll. Oh, for fuck's sake.

Vitals logged, soda obtained, Robert returned to find Emma leafing through the report.

"Anyone cop to Ezra and his girlfriend?"

"The boys said it was the father, but no evidence to back that up yet. SP's still going through that place. What a shit show."

"Daniel, what about—"

"Same. They said it was the old man. The former chief said it was the kid, Zeke. Both said he got whacked because he accidentally stumbled across their meth lab. Right now they're still sifting through evidence, trying to see what sticks."

"Edgar?"

"Oh, yeah, SP picked him up yesterday for questioning, then arrested his ass. Turn out old Hiram was a good record-keeper, whole notebooks full of payoffs to that guy, dates, reasons, a few photos. There was also, like, hundreds of audio tapes, the nut taped every conversation, apparently. SP will have to go through 'em, there may be something that clears up the picture on Gendreau's murder. But Burroughs? They got him for falsifying evidence, bribery, tampering with a crime scene. I'm sure they could find perjury in there. And, if they get lucky, an accessory charge for the Gendreau case. He's fucked."

"Good."

Emma yawned in spite of the sugary soda and conversation.

"Alright, I'm outta here." He stood and stretched his long limbs. "I'll explain more tomorrow. You rest. But I will say everyone's fine, no one's in trouble and Marty didn't have to do any 'friggin' paperwork,' so he's happy."

"Oh, shit, the guys. Are they OK?"

"Yeah, they left the next day, had to get back. Oh, wait, got a message from Cap." He grabbed his phone and with a few swipes found what he was looking for. "'He said, 'Tell Swan when she wakes up — and she will wake up — that only a dumb ass like her would get on the bad side of the one syphilitic madman in 21st century Maine."

"There's probably more than one," she rasped. "It's Maine."

"He also says you owe him a 'motherfucking boatload of lobster.'"

"That I can do…eventually."

"Alright, I'm gone. Stay out of trouble, got it?"

Emma locked eyes with her best friend, more sincere than she had ever looked.

"I promise."

"You better. 'Night, dummy. See you tomorrow." Tomorrow. Robert smiled to himself as she walked of the room. Alright.

Just a few minutes after Robert left, Emma was busy reading the preliminary report when she heard footsteps approach and stop several feet away.

"I said get outta here. Go have some dinner, make out with Kathryn, whatever." Closing her eyes, she laid her head back against the inclined bed., waiting to hear feet walking away. "Go, I told you."

"I'm never leaving you."

Emma jerked up at the quiet, firm tone, chest tightening at the recognition. In appearance Regina looked perfect — makeup, clothes, body language — but her eyes were so, so tired. A soft, strangled, "Oh…" escaped dry lips and Emma Swan promptly collapsed into tears.

Regina rushed over and sitting on the edge of the bed, grabbed her fiancée in a firm yet gentle embrace. "Sssshhhh," she soothed, rocking her gently in the tiniest of movements. "You're OK."

"No, I'm not. I…" She sniffed trying to get her breathing under control, taking the time to bask in the beatific smile on her fiancée's gorgeous face. "I messed—"

"No! Stop right there!" Regina's tone turned firm and she softly held Emma's face in her hands. "You listen to me. That guilt is what got you in this bed in the first place. You will stop feeling guilty about matters outside your control. You have to stop feeling guilty and you have to stop feeling alone."

"I know, it's just…how I've operated forever and it will take a while to break that habit, you know. I'll make mistakes."

Regina's narrowed her eyes, suddenly sensing something she had never been able to put her finger on. "So what? We all make mistakes."

Emma inhaled and exhaled deeply, petrified about what she was about to say, fearing that if she voiced it, it would come true. It had sat in the back of her mind since the moment they got together, yet she always tamped it down, ushered the thought away. But anchored by Regina's hand stroking her fingers and the smell of her perfume in her nose, she tried, anyway.

"I…I'm afraid if I make another mistake, you will leave me."

Squeezing the blonde's hand, she leaned over and nuzzled Emma's cheek with her own, soft words taking flight into Emma's ear. "I told you. I am never leaving you."

She could feel Emma nod. "Get in this bed and snuggle with me. I need you."

"But your wound…"

"…is only on one side." Emma patted the right side of the bed. "Please come up here and hold me."

Regina kicked off her shoes and carefully curled herself around her love, who smelled like the sterile, antiseptic place she was in.

"This is the last threat. You can tell I've been hanging around Robert and Kathryn too much," she giggled. "When we get married — and I will marry you — you will stop taking stupid risks. You didn't need to go after them. You have a wife. You have a son. You will think of us first."

Emma brought Regina's hand to her lips and kissed it. "I promise."

They lay still, holding each other as best they could, relishing the contact, until Emma broke the silence. "Robert told me about the house."

"A loss, but like I said that night, I'm not upset. Truly. My memories are with you and Henry. Home is with you and Henry, I don't care where that is.

"Can I interest you in a tiny apartment in a converted warehouse until we find something? It's got plenty of Ben & Jerry's, NyQuil and bullets. Oh, and a thermometer. That's a new addition."

"With all those amenities, how could I say no?" Emma's heart warmed at the light, bright tone. Almost like everything was normal. "As long as you're there, then yes."

"Oh, wait." Regina cautiously untangled herself and reached into her purse on the chair, long fingers hiding what she pulled out. "Pete and I went through the house when the salvage company was there. We were able to save much more than they initially thought. Anyway, I nearly tripped over this."

In her outstretched hand was a small Matchbox Mustang, not quite as yellow as it was originally.

Emma Swan took the soot-covered toy in her hand, a new tear escaping down her cheek as she leaned in to kiss her love.

SCENE BREAK BECAUSE THIS SITE SUCKS. READ YOUR FIC ON AO3

"Alright my love," Regina smiled, about to state the words she'd been dying to utter for more than a week. "Let's go home."

Emma snorted. "Some 'home.'" A pang of guilt shot into her chest, but she tried to fight it when she felt long fingers gently squeeze her hand. "Does it matter?"

She looked at Regina, brown eyes soft, wide, determined. She still felt incredibly weak yet looking at the adoring woman attached to her, suddenly Emma felt like she could bench-press a truck. "No, it doesn't."

"Mom. Mommommom! Let's go!" Henry ran out from the bathroom and grabbed Emma's free hand, tugging so hard she wobbled, luckily anchored by the brunette.

"Henry! Careful! Mom is still getting better."

Emma's heart clenched. Still. Every time. Mom.

"Sorry, Mommy." The women exchanged quizzical looks without a word, wondering where that name came from and for whom it was intended. Mommy?

"It's OK, bud. I'm excited, too, just take it easy. My boo-boo still hurts, but I'll be better soon."

Emma felt Regina squeeze her hand once more. "Shall we?"

Secured on both sides with each Mills holding a hand, Emma exhaled. "Let's go home."

The End

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed this story, especially those who were so generous in their reviews and private messages. I got to "meet" some wonderful people and it was lovely.