A/N: Apologies for the long wait on this - I hope it satisfied as an alternate POV of how things could have gone down in 4B. Thanks!

Emma wakes to the sound of wheezing and it's so unexpected that for a moment, she startles, her body tensing and her hand jerking out so that she can find her gun. It's the arms around her that slow her and then the soft smell that is so uniquely Regina that makes her stop moving and turn around, her mind for a moment shorting out before she remembers the previous night and remembers the hole in the ground and the betrayal and then…then Regina.

"Hey," Emma says softly, a hand reaching out to gently cup the sleeping woman's cheek; she can tell now that the wheezing sound is coming from the former queen and it occurs to her with a jerk of heartbreak in the middle of her chest that the reason for the troubled breathing is probably related to Regina's brief captivity beneath the soil. Thanks to trying to protect Emma.

Regina lets out another gasp and her hand flies out as if to push Emma away, but fingers curl around her wrist and the contact is enough to bring Regina out of her troubled slumber. She blinks and looks up and whispers Emma's name in this almost reverent way that makes that heartbreak turn into something far softer. And far more dangerous. All of this is so dangerous.

"Morning," Emma replies and then looks around for the easiest and least dramatic way to slip out of Regina's hold (she remembers that she'd fallen asleep with her face pressed up against Regina's collarbone, their arms around each other; when she'd woken, she'd found that their legs had somehow tangled up together and that's where they currently are right now), but there's really no subtle way here.

So her escape (and she's honest enough to admit that it's exactly that to herself if not quite to Regina) is not at all subtle and she's moving rapidly away from the bed and trying to pretend that everything she's feeling isn't actually being felt.

But it's all there and just the night before her entire world had been turned upside down.

"Are you all right?" Regina asks as she tries to push herself up; Emma doesn't miss the way that the older woman's elbow quivers and how she settles into something of a half-slump, her body still clearly not recovered enough yet to be able to hold her up. What she'd gone through the night before, with the fight at the cabin and the head injury and then being placed in a magic bubble that had protected her from death, it'd all been far too much for even her, apparently.

And oh, there's the guilt again. The realization that the reason that this had occurred at all was because Regina had been trying to protect Emma from her parents' ugly terrible past.

Parents she loves dearly, but at the moment isn't terribly fond of.

But Regina is looking at her in that way that tells her that she knows and sees everything and is well aware of the turbulence within Emma's head at the moment; it's with that half smile/half smirk and the lifted eyebrow and so Emma sighs and admits, "I'm not okay."

"No," Regina confirms. She watches for a moment as Emma glances around, looking for her jacket and for her shoes. "Emma," she says softly, tentatively. "Unless you're in a hurry, you don't actually have to leave…I mean you don't have to go…yet." She frowns at her stammering and then lets out a rumbling sigh of frustration, annoyed by her sudden anxiety. When she looks up, though, Emma is smiling at her and looking at her like she finds the Queen's uncertainty and sudden awkwardness endearing and almost sweet.

"How about I go do what I need to do and like you said, listen to them and –"

"You don't have to do anything that you don't want to do, Emma."

"I know, but you're right; I won't forgive myself if I don't give them a chance to explain. They're my parents and maybe their reasons suck, but they still have reasons. And after that, I'll bring us back some breakfast and we can have a lazy day doing nothing."

"Sounds like a sleep-over you're proposing, Miss Swan."

"We already did that," Emma reminds her. "And I was thinking more convalescing."

"Are you injured?"

"You did sleep on my arm most of the night?"

"Did I?"

"It's still tingling."

Regina chuckles quietly. "Go, Emma."

"You'll be all right?"

"I'm fine."

"You'll be all right?" Emma repeats again and takes a step closer to the bed.

"I will be."

"You're safe, I hope you know that. I promised you that I'd come in guns blazing."

"And you did. Like the obnoxious blonde White Knight that you stubbornly insist on being. Now, if you could be so kind as to leave so I can sleep, I would be most appreciative." She says this with her familiar mocking term firmly attached, but there's just a hint of nervousness beneath her words that suggests that the reason she wants – needs – Emma to leave is because if she doesn't, other things might end up being said and done.

And perhaps none of them are ready for that just yet.

Perhaps.

So Emma nods and pulls on her jacket. "Maple or chocolate?"

"Cronut or doughnut?" Regina asks with a knowing smirk; the weeks that they'd spent working together before Ursula and Cruella had appeared on the scene had been full of learning little things about each other and though Regina has always known of Emma's liking for odd and often deeply unhealthy snacks, her – the (she reminds her of this forcefully, scolding herself for even letting that thought slip into her still quite clearly feverish mind) sheriff's rather extreme affection for the doughnut/croissant hybrid had caught even her off-guard. That it had ended up being surprisingly tasty is something that she's not overly successful at hiding from Emma.

"I'll surprise you," Emma answers because yeah, she knows of Regina's rarely indulged (except with Henry who is quite the pro at getting Regina to partake of really "bad foods") sweet tooth.

"Maple."

"You got it." She offers up another smile, this one warm and full despite the way her heart is pounding as she considers the conversation that she's about to have with her parents. And Regina, well Regina answers it with one of her own before dropping her head down again.

Emma pauses in the doorway for a moment, her mind again returning to those terrible moments when she had looked down into a shallow grave and seen Regina there, not moving and possibly dead; she thinks that she'll never forget.

But can she forgive?

She supposes that she's about to find out.

Snow practically leaps off the couch when Emma steps into the loft, her red-rimmed eyes evidence that the short-haired woman hadn't slept at all the night previous. Emma feels a moment of guilt – she'd slept relatively well thanks to Regina – but it passes because the whole reason that she'd needed arms around her and that Regina had been in that bed to provide her with such comfort had been because of the horrific acts and then lies of the people that she trusts the most.

Her parents. Even now, years after finding out the truth, it's still so very weird to call them this.

But they are her parents and she does love them and deep in her heart, as angry and hurt as she is, she knows that she doesn't want to lose them after spending so much time trying to find them. And more than that, she realizes that the depth of her hurt is direction proportional to the depth of her love for these two people; they have hurt her because she adores them.

Still…still.

She holds up her hand to slow Snow's approach. "Wait," she says. "Henry?"

"Already at school; he's worried about both of you, though."

"I'll check in on him after this," Emma says. Then, meeting her mother's eyes, "I'm angry. And I'm hurt."

"We know," David says as he steps out from behind the counter, a towel thrown over his shoulder. His face is covered in stubble and he has the same exhausted look that his wife has.

"You don't. You…I hate what you did."

Snow starts to speak, starts to understand because that's what she wants to do so badly right now; everything in her eyes and in her body language screams that she just wants to make this right. "Emma -"

"No, listen," Emma interrupts, taking a step deeper into the loft. "I know that you want to explain yourselves and try to make this all make sense to me, but the thing is, right now what…what I need is you to listen to me for a few minutes and then…I want to hear your side of the story. I do. But I need you to understand what you did to me. I need you to understand that what you did is what almost everyone else in my life has done to me. I can understand why you put me through the tree; I still would have preferred to have spent a dazed eternity with you than without you, but it's worked out and I have Henry and I have –"she shakes her head. "I can understand that, but this…this was all about you choosing my destiny for me. This was you guys deciding who I would be and saying that if I wasn't that, I wouldn't be good enough for you."

"Emma, no," David says immediately.

"Yes. I needed to be a hero."

Snow lets out a shaky breath and in that moment, it's like all of the lights flicker on in her mind and perhaps it's the myopia that comes with being very focused on your place in the world or perhaps it's that she had never allowed herself to doubt their actions because it had seemed as though everything had turned out for the best. But now, looking in the red eyes of her daughter and seeing the anguish etched so clearly into the lines of her face, everything is so very obvious.

"Emma, I'm…I'm sorry," Snow whispers and it's not nearly enough – not even for her and gods does she wish that there were easy and simple words here, but maybe there shouldn't be considering the hurt that she sees on Emma's suddenly very young face - but these are the only words that she can manage to get out through a throat that's closing up with the horror she now feels.

"We're sorry," David corrects and his hands are noticeably jerking at his sides because he's a man who has always displayed the intensity of his feelings with his strong protective arms. But Emma, she has her own arms wrapped tight around her torso right now and it's as clear as a sign as there could be that any attempt at comforting this away wouldn't be welcomed – not yet, anyway. "We…we thought what we were doing made so much sense."

"Maybe it did," Emma says quietly. "When there wasn't a real person in front of you and when all there was were hypotheticals. But what you did – you destroyed one child to ensure that I became exactly what you needed me to be. How do I live with that?"

"We've actually been thinking about that; thinking about how we can try to fix some of the damage that we created," Snow says. "And to be honest, I think that we were doing it so that we could show you that we weren't the terrible people that you fear us to be –"

"I don't think you're terrible," Emma interrupts. "I think what you did was terrible. But I've done terrible things as well and Regina –"she frowns and then chooses to let that line of thought drop away because this isn't about the woman currently sound asleep in her bed. "Well, we've all done bad things and I can deal with that. It's the lies and the fear that I couldn't make my own right choices that I'm struggling with. I keep wondering now, what's me and what's not me? What is because I am the person that I am of my own making and what's because of what the two of you made me into?"

"I suppose only you know that," David replies. "I think we'd both like to reassure you that you are exactly who you are, but I don't think you'd believe those words from either one of us."

"No," the sheriff admits. "But you said that you had an idea…of how to make this right?"

"We want to find her child," Snow states. "From what we've been able to figure out from talking to Blue, we know that she's out there somewhere. Somewhere in this world. She's here and she doesn't know that she has a home; we want to bring her back to Maleficent. It won't change what we did – nothing can do that; we know that now – but we weren't complete until we had you back in our lives. We weren't right and…we have to – need to - make things right for them, too."

"It won't be easy," Emma says.

"It shouldn't be," David answers. "It took us a while, but –"

"We get that now," Snow finishes. "And whatever it takes, however long it takes, we will find a way to…" she stops, thinks and then says, "You're our daughter and we are proud of you for who you are. For the woman that you made yourself into. We are proud of you, Emma Swan."

Emma's eyes close. She nods her head slowly. "Okay, tell me," she says finally. "Why?"

"We didn't trust ourselves," David replies. "There was so much going on and we had placed ourselves in the position of being the heroes against the Evil Queen. Suddenly we were being told that our child could have this terrible darkness inside of us and…we forgot, Emma."

"Forgot what?"

"That everyone has a right to make their own destiny," Snow answers and there's a ferocious vehemence in her voice that tells Emma that this conversation – that these words, deliberate and forceful – are exactly why Snow and David look so exhausted right now; it seems quite clear to her that they'd been talking about this all night. Talking and understanding and realizing just how far off the right path they'd fallen. "We forgot that this was your life to lead and your path to walk. We got frightening information and we panicked and decided to stop trusting ourselves that we could be good parents and guide you right. We were afraid – afraid for you and… and afraid for ourselves and we made a bad choice. We chose our fears over you and we have spent a lot of time denying that that's what we did. Never again."

"You'll help me find Maleficent's daughter?" Emma asks, her voice quiet and trembling just a bit because when she looks back at her parents, what she sees is the ferocity of their love.

And maybe for the first time, she also sees the flawed people that she's always needed to see.

"You have our word," David answers.

"Okay," Emma says and thinks that maybe she's about to let it all go and fall into their arms and perhaps it shouldn't be nearly this easy to forgive because it hurts so much still, but after thirty years of feeling unwanted, she's not about to walk away from two people who have spent the night crying over the thought of losing her. Still, she says to her mother (because apparently even if the smart part of her thinks this is dangerous territory, the rest of her knows that this is something that has to be addressed; for this family to heal, all truths must be exposed and laid bare for everyone to deal with), "Regina. What you did with her, the danger that you put her in for me. For your secret. I'm not okay with that, either. She could have died last night. And I…"

"When I screw up, I screw up good," Snow says. "My relationship Regina – what we've gotten back – it means everything to me, Emma and just like with you, I forgot what I have now and why it matters more than anything that's in our pasts. I should have been honest with you from moment one, but I got scared and then I went to the one person that I knew would help me because I know she cares about you as well. I knew that she would help me and would keep my secret and I used that…I know what I did. And I promise you that I will make it right with Regina, too."

"That's the thing," Emma replies. "She likely won't listen if you try because she thinks she owes you – and she does – but not like this. We're a family, Mom." She takes a breath after she says the title, then nods her own agreement with it and finishes, "We protect each other. All of us."

"Is she all right?" Snow asks.

"She is. She just needs to rest; you should stop by and see her…maybe tomorrow?"

"I will. Are you leaving?"

"I promised her breakfast."

"We are sorry, Emma. For what we did, but most of all for not having faith in you."

"I need you to trust me," Emma replies. "I've had a weird life and I haven't always made good choices - despite what you did, I've made some very bad ones - but I turned out all right and maybe I'm not the perfectly good and perfect child that you guys always wanted, but –"

She's not even given a chance to finish before both David and Snow are stepping forward and both of them are wrapping their arms around her like they're holding on for dear life; it's her father's strength and her mother's love and Emma lets out a sigh and drops her head against them. Everything isn't better just because they're hugging, but she thinks that it could be.

She thinks that yes, she could forgive them.

So she hugs back and she holds on and it's just opening the door and giving her family a chance.

Everyone deserves one.

The lights are off in the house when she steps inside about a half hour later, and she's halfway up the stairs to Regina's room with the box of Cronuts in her hand when she hears the soft talking from within it. Though there's no tension in the tones, Emma's hand immediately goes to her gun and after settling the box on the ground, she's drawing her weapon even as she continues down the hallway. She stops when she looks in and sees Maleficent in there.

Standing over Regina who is propped up against a mound of pillows, her color still a bit too pale for Emma's liking and her eyes still a bit too unfocused, but looking better than she had.

Knowing that she shouldn't, knowing that she should walk away and allow these two women this private moment, Emma instead slides forward. She tells herself that this is old instinct related to her previous job, but she knows this is just very basic curiosity at play.

Mixed with hints of deep worry and possibly jealousy as well.

Not that she wants to think about that.

Instead, she leans in and she listens.

"You're going to get yourself killed if you keep up as you are," Maleficent scolds, clear affection in the older woman's voice. "Is this girl…are these people truly worth your life, Regina? They're your enemies. Snow White is who you allowed –"

"I know what happened," Regina replies, her voice gravelly. "I know very well what happened."

"And yet here you are now. Holding hands with Snow White and wishing to be in the bed –"

"Enough."

"What are you so afraid of, dearest?"

"I don't want to have this conversation with you."

"Why? Do you think I won't be supportive of you and the girl?" Maleficent chuckles at that. "We had our time."

"You saved my life yesterday," Regina notes, changing the subject. "Why?"

There's a beat as Maleficent adjusts to the change, and then, "Ask the question you really mean to ask, Regina."

"Why don't you hate me as much as I hated you?"

"Why did you hate me?"

"Because you let me go. You walked away from me when I needed you most."

"No one could have saved you, Regina. Not me and not yourself. Not even your Savior."

"What's your obsession with her?"

"I could ask the same of you. But how about you answer my question. Why did you hate me so much that you sentenced me to a life beneath the library? And then to a horrible after- life?"

"You said you loved me."

Emma watches as Maleficent seems to shrink for a moment before levels herself out once again, her blue eyes showing such deep pain that there can be no doubt that regardless of what had happened between these two women, the love had been very real.

"I did," Maleficent admits as she sits down on the bed, her hand reaching out to touch Regina before she stops herself. "But I was afraid of the path that you were walking and with the disinterest that you had in abandoning it that you would end up destroying me as well. I was fine in my seclusion, Regina, but you pulled me out of it and you forced me to find my fight again and then you forced me to watch as you lost all of yours and gave in willingly to Rumplestiltskin."

"I thought vengeance would make me hurt less."

"And now we both know."

"But you still want to have yours on Snow and David."

Emma tenses up, her fingers curling around the handle of her gun; she inches forward a bit more, though even she's not entirely sure what if anything she plans to do here. Regina is clearly in no danger from Maleficent and attacking her unprovoked would be…unacceptable.

But she won't let anyone take her family from her.

"I have that right, don't you think?"

"I think there are other ways. Aren't there, Emma?"

Emma sighs and steps forward, holstering her weapon the moment she is visible to the two women. Which is probably a wise thing considering the disdain both are regarding the gun with.

"Yes. We're going to try to find your daughter," Emma says. "We know that she's in this world and that means that she can be located; my parents – I – we promise you that we will find her."

"And you think that that will make it all just go away? Make it all better?"

"I think I'd rather not have to fight you if I don't have to, but for them, I will."

"And I'll be at her side," Regina says softly. "I really don't want to hurt you again, Mal. Ever."

"Then I suppose this is it."

Regina starts to sit, but the moment she does, she sways and nearly topples; it's two different sets of hands which stop her from falling and when she looks up, it's to see two different blonde women staring back at her, one with blue eyes and the other with green ones.

She smiles slightly and there's no easy way to blunt the awkwardness of this moment so she takes a breath and then focuses up on Maleficent, catching Emma slide away out of the corner of her eye. "You told me you loved me once and as much as I could believe anyone at that time, I believed you. Still, you couldn't stop me from falling and that's not on you, but I blamed you for calling yourself my friend when…well, it doesn't matter, anymore. What's done is done, but we can both change our futures. We don't have to keep dancing the same dance that we've always been expected to. We don't have to leave destruction behind us. Let us help you find your daughter. Let us help you find what should have been your happiness thirty years ago."

"I can't forgive them," Maleficent tells her. "I won't."

"You don't need to," Emma replies. "You just need to let us help you. My parents aren't owed your forgiveness and frankly neither am I, but we do owe you finding you your daughter."

"Mal," Regina prompts, wincing as she tries to move again. Her head is pounding and her lungs are still burning; Emma had healed her quite a bit the night before but she imagines it will take several more days of bed-rest before she'll feel up to really moving around.

Or until Henry comes home, at least; he can't be permitted to see her like this.

"I accept your offer," she says finally.

"What about the others?" Emma asks. "They won't be pleased with you flipping sides."

"No, but Regina and I were almost always an unbeatable pair."

"With Emma, we will be," Regina tells her. "They can't defeat us. Not even with Rumple."

Maleficent sizes Emma up for a moment, then nods her head sharply. "You had better be worth all of this, Savior. You had better be worth her." And then she's turning and she's looking at Regina and what passes between them is almost ten years of long-ago heartbreaking history that can't be made young once more; what had been there a long time ago in a far away place can't ever be again.

But that doesn't make the deep feelings less real.

Her eyes close after a moment, wetness gleaming in them and then there's just smoke where she was and a breeze blowing in through the open window of the mansion, cool and crisp.

Like what the air smells like above the top of the trees where only dragons dare fly.

"You okay?" Emma asks after a moment, stepping close again.

"My head is pounding."

"I'll get you some aspirin."

"It can wait; how did it go with your parents?"

"We talked. They explained."

"And you?"

"I listened. It's a start. My mom will be by to see you tomorrow; she owes you an apology."

"She doesn't. What about Henry. Is he -"

"Worried, but calm. He'll stay in class today; he promised. But he'll be hovering tonight, I'm sure."

"Wonderful. Where's my breakfast, Swan?"

Emma chuckles. "In the hallway, Your Majesty. Shall I get it?"

"Yes. And bring a plate; I don't like crumbs in my bed."

"The whole refined Queen thing, right?"

"You can be taught," Regina snarks, but her eyes are twinkling mischievously, devilishly.

"Apparently so. Anything else you require? Perhaps some freshly squeezed orange juice?"

"That would be acceptable. Please moderate the pulp."

"Close your eyes, Regina; I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Mm. Emma?"

"Something else you needed?"

"The truth, dear; are you...upset by what you just heard? About Maleficent and –"

"You'd already told me that you were a thing. For a moment. But you were more than that?"

"More and less. She loved me."

"And you?"

"I was incapable of it. We were going in opposite directions. She needed something from me that I couldn't give her while I was running down the path that I was. In the end, she walked away from me and…I don't forgive betrayal…as you well know. Lucky for me, Maleficent does."

"And now? No reason you couldn't pick up where you left off."

"There's too many reasons to count actually, but only one that matters."

"Which is?"

"Emma," Regina says, her voice breathy and tired. Their eyes meet, and it's all right there. So much truth, so many things unsaid but so very obvious to both of them.

"Right. I'm gonna go get you your breakfast."

"Of course," the older woman nods, looking down at her blankets and her hands and -

"Regina."

She looks up and the first thing that registers is that Emma is much closer than she'd been seconds before, but the next thing is the feel of Emma's hands on her face just before she leans in and gently presses her lips to Regina's. Soft and tentative, immediately breakable if need be.

"I didn't say no," Emma murmurs once she breaks away.

"You technically didn't say anything."

"I think I just did."

"You have no idea what you're doing, Swan."

"I rarely do." And then Emma is leaning in for another kiss and this one is longer and more passionate, a clashing of teeth and lips and even a gentle nudge of tongues after a moment.

"Orange juice," Regina finally mutters and Emma finds herself relieved because she thinks that if she doesn't break away from Regina now and if she doesn't stop touching her and wanting to touch her, then they'll end up together in this bed and she doesn't want to rush this. Her heart is pounding and she wants so much right now but what she wants even more is to enjoy this.

Because she more than most knows that it can all be gone tomorrow.

Buried beneath six feet of dirt with only flowers and a tombstone to mark the ground.

She wants better for both of them than that.

She wants better for herself.

So one last kiss and this one is chaste and ends up with her lips against Regina's still slightly feverish forehead and then she's sliding away and saying that she'll be back in just a few minutes.

Regina answers her with a soft murmur and then Emma is closing the door and running away.

But not very far this time.

And not for long.

Regina is sound asleep when she returns and she's not even remotely surprised. She checks Regina's temperature, finds it stable enough and then pulls a blanket up over the slumbering woman.

She places the freshly squeezes orange juice on the nightstand and then puts a maple Cronut next to it, a napkin below it and another one on top of it to help keep it fresh and crumb-free.

And then she just sits there and watches.

Watches Regina sleep, not quite effortless and certainly not unburdened, but safe all the same.

She thinks about dragons and witches and a cabin with blood on the walls.

She thinks about unborn babies who'd had no idea of the sins committed in their names.

She thinks about making it right and finding forgiveness along the way.

Which in the end is what all of them are after.

Forgiveness from each other and most important from themselves.

The ability to look up and not see darkness over their heads but instead, perhaps some light.

Her hand slides out and she moves hair away from Regina's brow, the woman murmuring softly at the touch and seeming to instinctively move towards her. Like maybe they fit together.

Like maybe everything happens for a reason.

She's not a fan of fate or pre-determined destiny, but maybe some things are meant to be.

And maybe sometimes you make those things happen.

She lifts up the orange juice and takes a sip of it and then waits for Regina to wake up again.

-Fin