Notes: Mentions of Hook and Robin. Brief mentions of the King, discussion about Regina's suicidal tendencies. But this is definitely SQ.

She wakes up sharply, cold and shuddering, his name on her lips. It's a memory deep in her mind, flashing light and a hand outstretched and now…now, she has a second memory to accompany that. Of him holding a knife to her throat and smirking at her before turning to one of the soldiers and saying, "She's yours now, lads; I just need my payment and I'll be on my way."

Her memories have been plastered over by new image of a man who had grinned as gold coins had been dropped into his palm. Rationally, she knows that shouldn't be the case, but it's hard to think about the Robin she'd known when all she can see is the man who had betrayed her.

Regina's hand lifts to her face and then to her neck; she can still feel the heavy swelling across her left cheekbone and there's the thin deep line of a cut across her neck, the run of it little under an inch. Her nail dips and scrapes against it and she winces, and then does it again just to do it. Just to feel the pain of it.

She hears from somewhere just to her side, "Please, stop." Soft and whispered, and instinctively, Regina's eyes close, tears on her dark eyelashes. She takes a breath, her chest rattling from the cold, and turns.

"I'm fine," she insists, and wants to laugh at her own unsteadiness. She wants to laugh at the utter weakness of her broken heart, which refuses to stop exposing itself. She wants to laugh at all of these things, but they're not all that funny, and she's fairly certain if she tries, she'll cry.

So she says the words she always says, and hopes that Emma will let them go.

But Emma Swan isn't built like that, and even when they were enemies, she was a dog with a bone. Not in a particularly good way for their relationship (and to be fair, Regina went out of her way to antagonize Emma just as much), but all the same. And now that they're the very best of friends, well it's twice as bad.

Now, Emma is incapable of just standing by and not doing something to help Regina be…better.

Whatever better is supposed to mean.

Emma tilts her head and says, "No, I don't think you are."

So simple.

Regina snaps.

"Of course I'm not okay," she retorts, and there's a flush which runs up her sliced neck and across her bruised face, and she thinks that if the Queen were still a part of her, she'd be hearing the harsh reminders of poise and dignity which had all-too-often sounded a whole lot like Mother. But the Queen isn't here (and she wonders what it says about her that she finds herself desperately craving that voice), and all there is left in her place is this gaping emptiness which seems to grow larger and more destructive and damning with each day which passes. Now filled with a bit more anger and hurt and heartbreak thanks to the shadow of a man whom she'd tried to make into more, she finds herself spinning, the world darkening around the edges metaphorically if not actually. "I'm not okay," she says again, and her voice catches and chokes and she has to take a moment to breathe before she can continue. "I'm a fool and all of this is my fault. Robin's death, your parent's hell, us being here at all. All of this is my fault, Emma, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Oh," Emma murmurs, and it's the very last thing Regina had been expecting to hear. But Emma looks perplexed, perhaps even confused for a moment, and that in turn confuses Regina. But then the Savior adds, "So we're doing the whole pity party thing tonight. Okay. Well…if I hadn't made Hook into a Dark One, he wouldn't have ripped open the gates of Hell. If I had accepted death and hadn't followed him down to the Underworld even though he was ready to go, then Hades wouldn't have had a chance to kill Robin."

"Emma -"

"But we can keep going back, right? If I hadn't saved you from the darkness, then I wouldn't have been a Dark One. But if you hadn't saved me from killing Cruella, I'd have been there a long time before that. I mean cause and effect can get pretty intense, I think, but I'm sure we can blame…whomever. Yeah?"

"Stop."

"Because you don't want someone to understand?"

"Because I don't want you to understand."

"Because I do. And because you know I do."

Regina stands, arms wrapping around, but then Emma is up as well, and she's in her space. And Regina is folding backwards and saying, "Maybe so, but if you, then you understand that it's easier if -"

"Easier to what? Die? Sacrifice yourself? Take yourself away from all the people who love you?"

"Is it only okay if it's you willing to die for our family?" Regina challenges.

"I want to live," Emma tells her, vehemence creeping into her tone.

"Right. I forgot. For your perfect life with Hook. To start a new family." She doesn't mean to allow the seeping corrosive bitterness to enter her voice, but she's exhausted and her filters are long past gone. She doesn't mean for her hate to be so apparent, but the unfairness of his continued existence is too much.

Thankfully, Emma seems as unconcerned as ever with Regina's dislike for the man.

"I already have a family. I don't want a new one. With Hook or anyone else. He's my boyfriend, and maybe it works out –" she shakes her head, a strange smile on her lips. "And maybe it doesn't. Life is kind of strange and things…change. I've figured out a lot over the last few months and I'm not the same person who thought she couldn't live without him. I know that I can. I know that I have enough with just me." She steps closer to Regina, her steps still cautious, like she's gently approaching a wounded animal. "So yeah, I want to live. I want to live because there are so many things I still want to do and see. So many things that I still want to experience. "She smiles. "And I want to live because I want to see our son happy. I want to see you happy. That's what I want."

Regina tries to turn away, and Emma allows it, realizing that she needs to play this tactfully; despite her instinct to act, she understands that she needs to move only when she absolutely must. "I thought…I saw him, and I thought it could be that easy," Regina explains, the self-loathing Emma hears there almost thick enough to be tangible. "I thought that for once I could have something come my way and it would work out for the best, but his eyes, they weren't Robin's. When…when he sold me -" she swallows and for a moment, her eyes grow glassy and she's thinking of a time from long ago - "When he gave me to the guards, he was looking at me with such hatred. This Robin didn't even know me, just knew of me, but saw me as something to be despised."

"Yeah, well, this cracked version of Robin didn't exactly have a right to the moral high ground. He was a creep. But your Robin wasn't," Emma reminds her. "And your Robin loved you. He saw the best in you. He saw who you have become. He sees -" she steps forward again, refusing now to be pushed away, knowing that this is finally the moment to push forward and make her point. "He saw what I see in you. He sees the woman you actually are. A good one."

"No -"

"Yes. That's exactly what you are. A good woman. My best friend. Someone we're all less without. So you know what? I'm not letting you die. Not for us, and sure as hell not for me. That's not going to happen. You think I want a new family? One that doesn't include you in it? Well, I don't. I want the family I have and that damn well does includes you. You're family. You're my family, Regina. Mine."

"I -"

Emma grins, like she's sensing something of a win. "Yes. Just…yes. That's just the way it is."

"You know I'd do anything…anything for you, and if that means paying the price that I should have paid years ago, the maybe I just should. Maybe if I had paid the price instead of trying the cheat my way out of the Queen's sins – out of mine, we wouldn't be in this position. Maybe this is how it's supposed to be, and Emma, I'm okay with it," Regina insists. Because suddenly it matters that Emma understands how much she means. How much having Emma in her life has meant to her. How much it has changed her.

"Well, I'm not. I don't want your life in exchange for mine. I want you in my life, Regina." There's a pause then as realization flows through her. For a moment, her brow furrows like she's fighting with her own thoughts, but then it smooths and she says, "I want…you."

Regina blinks, sure that she hasn't heard Emma's words right, certain that she doesn't really understand what Emma means by that. Because they both have other lives and other loves and so many complications.

Surely, Emma hadn't meant anything by that.

Surely.

But Emma is staring at her like she's not only realized something profound, but is actually rather okay with whatever the realization is. "You didn't think about the risks to yourself before you cast the wish to come after me," she notes. "You knew I needed your help to get back home to our kid and to our family. You knew that I couldn't get there without...you knew that I couldn't do it alone. You knew that and you risked yourself for me. You fought for me. You put yourself on the line to help me to be my best and strongest self."

"It's what you've always done for me."

"That's right," Emma agrees. "It's what we do for each other. And now, it's my turn."

And then she's stepping in and wrapping her arms around Regina's weary body and it's such a strange motion because though they both hug others rather freely, they have never crossed this line with each other. For whatever reason, though their trust in each other has remained beyond the definition and understanding of most people, a breach of physical space has always been just out of reach for them.

Not now, though.

Now, Emma hugs her tight, and after a moment Regina sags against her. "I'm sorry," Regina whispers.

"Me, too. I...we should have done this a long time ago," Emma tells her, and means something totally different. A hand lifts up and to Regina's face, cupping the older woman's cheek for a moment, warmth spreading from Emma's fingers and healing magic pouring into her wounded friend; Regina had told her to save her energy before, feeling as though she needed to wear the marks of her stupidity. Now, though, now Regina doesn't protest and perhaps it's having her doubts and fears laid bare away which breaks her down the rest of the way. She lets out a soft pained whimper, and then she's falling deeper into Emma's arms, clutching and pressing into her warmth.

"Emma -" It comes out in an expulsion of air, more a gasp than a word.

"I know. It's okay. It's okay. I've got you," Emma assures her.

"Please."

"I know."

Tears run hot, fingers hold tight; Emma holds on even tighter. She chances - madness, really - the slightest kiss to the top of Regina's head, her soft lips brushing against warm skin. And then she drops them both down to the ground, practically pulling Regina into her lap, still holding the older woman close to her.

Then again, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

A pause, a thought, another kiss, this time to Regina's forehead. "No more apologies," she whispers, her mouth against Regina's ear. "For either one of us. No more."

Regina's hands cover hers, but don't push away, thumbs curling and scraping.

Another kiss this time slightly lower…lighter…then less light as lips press against lips.

A soft whimper, arching backwards, the scrape on Regina's neck showing.

Then healed with Emma's mouth, open and gentle, kissing atop Regina's pulse point.

Regina inhales sharply, a hand weaving into Emma's hair.

"You're okay."

"We're okay."

Neither one of them quite sure who is saying what, anymore.

In the morning, Regina will break away and try not to speak of this – they both know this.

In the morning, the guilt and self-loathing will return, and Emma will have to continue the fight to prove to Regina that she matters, and that she's wanted. Lines have been crossed, choices have been made, and surely, Regina will rage about them and try to walk away from them. She'll try to hide behind other loves.

Behind the complications of their lives.

Emma knows this, understands this, and even accepts this.

She knows that this – what's happening now – changes everything for them.

Both here and at home.

Nothing can stay the same. Nothing will stay the same.

But that's for tomorrow.

For now, it's just them and this and neither one of them dares to let go as they shed their clothes.

For now, it's just them and as Emma leans over her, she thinks that maybe everything happens for a reason.

Sometimes those things are dark, but maybe the reason doesn't have to be.

She kisses Regina again and again, and their fingers weave together.

Regina whispers her name; Emma says, "I'm here."

And means that she will be here in the morning as well.

They both will be.

-Fin