A/N: Well, here we are. This is it. The last chapter, not only of this story but of the adventure that was putting my content out there for you guys - and it has been absolutely wonderful. Your comments were always so inspiring, so motivating, and you have been such a supporting audience. I really am going to miss you, just as much as I'm going to miss this story. I'm already writing something else - always Swan Queen, but the plot couldn't be more different from Dolorem Animi Extinguo. I hope this fanfic left you as fulfilled as it left me, and until next time...

CHAPTER 26 – Regina – Saved

We spent the whole drive back to Storybrooke talking about what had occurred and what we should expect once we would be back home.

After having matched our hearts with their respective halves (although the phrasing would be debatable; my heart belonged to Emma and always would), we had teleported her bug back to Storybrooke, since we had come to New York in separate cars but wanted to spend the trip back home together. It had required a lot of stamina, to transfer such a large object over three-hundred miles away, and now Emma was gulping down energy drink after energy drink as I drove and occasionally sipped on iced coffee to stay awake, although my limbs felt heavy and tender.

Discussing the most recent events helped to keep me conscious.

Well, Emma's barrage of questions did. She was high on energy drinks, and it was worse than the sugar rushes Henry used to get when he was younger. Her fidgeting, the words leaving her mouth in rapid sequence, the loudness of her voice were better than a gallon of caffeine: I couldn't have been able to fall asleep even if I had tried.

Granted, the desire to smother the woman I loved was growing more and more powerful as the minutes ticked by, but at least I was awake.

Nevertheless, I tried my best to reply to everything she asked.

"Why did we have powers? I mean, I know we have True Love and that's 'the most powerful magic of all'," she said the last sentence in a mock-dramatic voice, fingers curling to mimic air-quotes, and I couldn't tell if she was making fun of someone or if she was just completely out of it, "and that's why we managed to make magic; and Eric and Anthony and their bitch mother were gods, so I guess that makes them super powerful no matter where they are. But I mean, if the five of us used magic and the Dragon can do that to, why the hell call it 'The Land Without Magic'? It should be renamed to 'The Land With Some Magic, But Not Really'. Or maybe magic is there, but people can't use it because they don't believe in it."

I sighed, although I did nothing to hide my amusement. As patiently as I could, as if dealing with an overgrown child, I said, "Emma, there is no magic in this world. Maybe True Love was powerful enough to draw energy all the way from Storybrooke, or even from another Land; maybe Aphrodite changed the order of things temporarily, purposely bringing magic to this realm in order to have a somewhat-fair fight against us; maybe you and I and the Dragon are nothing but exceptions, and magic still doesn't exist in this world, aside from Storybrooke. I'm afraid I don't have an answer."

"What should we do with Gold?" she asked then. Well, that was a good question. "He constantly shifts from being a total ass to kinda helping us. We've given him so many chances at redemption that I feel like he's just making fun of us. I mean, I get it – he's gone through a lot. He lost his wife, his son, his girlfriend; then he found his girlfriend, married her, found his son, lost him again, then lost Belle again and, automatically, his second son. But, like, he's kind of had it coming? He never learns. Always goes back to that stupid dagger. I don't know how he does it, I hated being the Dark One. It corrupts you. It… rots you. Maybe Gold has gone past the point of no return."

"He clung to power when he didn't have love. Once he finally found love, he wasn't able to let his power go. He is far past the point of no return, and he has been since long before I cast the Dark Curse. Miss French seems to have come to the same conclusion, at last."

There was pity in my voice. Despite how much this world's fairytales tended to suggest it, there were no heroes and villains – real life was not polarized, not a binary division of 'good' versus 'evil'. It was shades of grey, it was anti-heroes, it was redemption and betrayal and corruption and forgiveness. Rumple was no different; he simply made the wrong choice over and over again, albeit driven by despair as much as addiction.

"We shall keep offering him help," I dictated then. Emma gazed at me, surprise written all over her features. "Every time he will refuse it, every time he will fall back into the darkness, we shall grant him another chance… until he makes the right choice and abide by it for good."

I quickly glanced to my right, eyes leaving the road shortly, only to see Emma's dazzling smile, a hint of pride behind her eyes. I smiled back, conveying as much warmth as I could, before turning my attention back to the road. "I missed you," she said, and it hurt to hear the sadness in her voice.

I knew she was referring to the three months I had been gone. I took a deep breath. "I think that, on some level, I missed you too," I confessed. "There was an emptiness inside of me that was not caused by the lack of memories; it was the knowledge, which I had before leaving, that I would never know what would have happened if I hadn't been so scared of loving you. I wasn't aware of its cause, when I was I New York, but I could still feel that I was missing something." Trying my best to get my point across, I continued, "Maybe it's not that I couldn't sleep because I was away from Storybrooke… maybe it was because I was away from you."

"Did you…" Emma cleared her throat in uneasiness. "Did you feel it before you cast the curse on yourself, too?"

I nodded. As if she even needed to ask. "Of course I did. I've always felt something – a pull, an attraction of some sort that was powerful and intimidating – from the very first moment I laid my eyes on you, that night – the night you broke into my city and into my life. Even as I mistook it for simple attraction, at the beginning, I put all my energy in trying to suppress it, channeled it so that it would translate to that animosity that was the only way to blow off some steam. Because you were a threat to my curse, because you were Snow White's daughter, because you were Henry's mother… there were many reasons, each one feebler than the other.

"Then, Aphrodite showed up in Storybrooke, and she would have killed the people I loved just to hurt me. That is when my consciousness connected the dots and understood what my subconscious had known all along: I was afraid for Henry's life just as much as yours. I realized that I loved you. And I couldn't bear the idea of either of you in danger, let alone losing you.

"So, I did the only thing that made sense: I forgot about you. It was the only way to keep you both safe – if I didn't remember you, your death wouldn't have hurt me, and Aphrodite wouldn't have had a reason to harm you. Besides, thanks to the curse, I would be far away from you, and when Aphrodite finally decided to get her revenge against me, you wouldn't be caught in the crossfire. Of course, I didn't consider how stubborn you can be.

"You came back into my life, wormed your way back into my heart. A part of me recognized you even while I was cursed, recognized the memory of my love for you. I didn't fall in love with you during the past two weeks, because I have been in love with you for four years." I said that last part lightly, amusement in my voice that was trying to dissipate some of the dramatic tension, the schmaltziness that could easily compete with Snow and David's traditional behavior. I scrunched my face up in disgust at the comparison.

Emma sighed. She was about to cut in with some joke: even as I was driving, I recognized the telltale signs of amusement hiding behind her neutral expression. I was glad, because regardless of our feelings for each other, the amount of rom-com material the past handful of hours had generated had been draining. "I can't believe I spent all that time fantasizing about calling you 'Madame Mayor' in bed, when I could have so easily made it reality. If only I knew…" Another melodramatic sigh.

I smirked. "Well, that can be arranged, Sheriff."

The way Emma's pupils spread out at my words and her lips parted slightly in a silent gasp was a reaction I would never tire of receiving. She shook her head, running a hand over her eyes. "You'll be the death of me, woman," she let out. Then, as if a sudden stray thought hit her, she added, "So, what are we?"

I huffed out a laugh. "Apparently fourteen-year-olds."

"Oh, shut up!" she giggled. "I'm serious."

"I know, dear." I took a moment to think, not really sure how to respond to her question. "We didn't exactly approach our relationship in the most conventional of ways."

"So there is a relationship?"

"If True Love's Kiss, the 'I love you's and the amount of times we had sex are anything to go by, then yes, I'm afraid so," I joked. Normal human reactions, such as the instinct of self-preservation, would have suggested we would be afraid of the prospect of another relationship: after all, it hadn't exactly gone well for either of us, before. Yet, I was surrounded by a calm serenity, the knowledge that Emma and I together could overcome anything. Love was weakness, but it was the most powerful magic of all, too.

"I'd like to take you out on a date," she said then. "I know it's kind of pointless, but I've wanted to do it for such a long time. I've always known that nothing between us could ever be normal, but there's something reassuring about the idea of something ordinary like having a romantic dinner, don't you think?"

I smiled fondly. "I'd love that."

"So…" she trailed off again, before asking, "What kind of relationship are we in? Like, are we dating? Are we together? Are you my girlfriend?"

A loud laugh escaped my throat at the silly tone she used for that last word. "Whichever one you want, dear. I don't usually pay much mind to labels."

"Riiight," she sassed, "because being called 'The Evil Queen' never bothered you, did it?"

And it was wonderful, really. Emma's hand casually stroking mine whenever she had the chance, making lighthearted jokes about a heavy past that seemed so far away, now, while we drove back to Storybrooke. Back to dinner with Zelena and the Charmings, back home with Henry.

Home.

I could get used to it.

Well, dinner was a disaster.

Snow had tried to make a vegetable bake, because apparently she thought being healthy was the best way to celebrate finally being all back together; tried being the key word, because as soon as she closed the oven, a miniature explosion sent the dish flying to the other side of the room, scattering vegetables everywhere and shattering against the wall. I couldn't tell if it had been Emma or Zelena who had done it, because they were sporting the same mischievous look, but then again, it could have easily been both. You'd think someone as obsessed with the color green as my sister would love vegetables; and yet, there was nothing she despised more.

There wasn't much time to investigate the cause of the explosion, anyway, because now thick, black smoke was enveloping the apartment and the fire alarm was going off, and baby Neal and baby Robin were bawling at the loud noise.

Needless to say, we went to eat at Granny's.

A couple of curious looks were sent our way, when we entered the diner and the few customers took in how disheveled we all looked (and how foul we smelled). Nonetheless, Granny pushed a couple of tables together so that we could all fit, and when I smiled and said, "Thank you, Eugenia," the older woman knew it was an apology for my behavior while I was cursed. By her lack of surprise at me using her first name, I assumed the Charmings had already informed the whole town about my curse being broken, before joining us in New York.

"Eugenia?" Emma whispered to me once Granny was out of earshot. She had forgotten about the enhanced senses that being a werewolf provided, so she blushed and muttered, "Never mind," when the woman in question turned towards her.

"I can't believe you didn't know her name," I muttered after Granny had retired to the kitchen and we had all sat down. "You spend more time here than at the Sheriff Station. You alone could keep this business going."

Emma pinched my side teasingly. "Don't make fun of me, Madame Mayor."

"I'm just saying what's true," I justified.

Then, Miss Lucas showed up, waitress uniform back on – which was surprising: shouldn't she be at the hospital with…

"Oh, shit," Emma let out. She had paled visibly, and as I followed her line of sight, I understood why: Dorothy Gale was right behind Miss Lucas, sporting the same clothes as her girlfriend despite having just recovered.

I hurried a glance at Zelena, who was chatting amiably with Henry and hadn't seen her nemesis yet. I didn't get a chance to do anything that would somehow protect the girl from my sister's wrath, because she was suddenly by our side and tentatively asking, "What can I get you?"

Zelena's head snapped in her direction at the familiar voice – or maybe it was just the Kansas accent – and when Dorothy finally saw just who she was about to serve, she jumped backwards with a shocked gasp.

Miss Lucas was by her side in a second, a hand soothingly running up and down her arm, although wariness lingered on her features as she (and everyone else) eyed Zelena's reaction.

"You!"

I cut in before my sister could say anything more. "Zelena, please keep in mind that redemption requires you not to kill, maim or endanger other people."

"And words can be hurtful, too," Emma concurred passionately.

Henry, bless him, even added, "And it's Christmas."

"But I hate her…" Zelena tried to argue.

I nodded understandingly. "I know, dear, trust me. But think of your baby: you don't want her hating you for the bad things you've done, do you?"

Henry, on my left, slipped his hand in mine. It wasn't hard to understand that he felt guilty, even after all this time, about treating me the way he did once upon a time. Shades of grey, my mind echoed again.

"You have a baby?" Dorothy Gale jumped in. Only now did she seem to notice the six-months-old bundled up in a blanket between Zelena and baby Neal. "Wow, I- I'm glad it… isn't… green?"

Well, she needed practice, but that comment could vaguely resemble a compliment. I shot Zelena an eloquent look and, after having rolled her eyes, she blurted out, "Thank you. I hope a house won't fall on you."

We were getting there.

"Okay," David exclaimed loudly, dispersing the utter awkwardness that encounter had brought about. "I'll have a grilled cheese sandwich and onion rings on the side, please."

We all took turns to order, Ruby carefully checking that Dorothy wrote everything down from over her shoulder, and soon enough we were eating and chatting away.

Dinner went by in a flash.

Henry asked if he could come home with me, and I was happy to say yes.

Zelena had left our table, at some point, to join Belle on the other side of the diner – "Belle and Ruby had a thing a while ago," Emma had said, "I guess they see in Dorothy a common enemy." – and now they were leaving together, and if my sister was making a friend, I couldn't be happier.

Snow and David took off, mentally preparing themselves for the disaster their apartment would surely be in.

Emma pressed a lingering kiss on my lips – and I would never tire of the way her lips made my head spin and my knees weaken and my heart flutter – and then jogged to her bug, where Henry was waiting for her. I needed to speak to Gold, so Emma was going to drive Henry to Mifflin Street before going back to the loft.

We had agreed on not spending the night together. We needed to take things slow, having experienced an unhealthy amount of things during the past two weeks. It was the right thing to do, although the small jolt of pain at seeing her walk away suggested otherwise.

After the bug had disappeared from sight, I headed for the pawnshop. Our last encounter hadn't been the most friendly, but hopefully this time it would go differently.

The bell above the door trilled as I made my way inside. Gold had just walked in from the back, and there was something dull, something missing as he greeted me with his usual, "Your Majesty."

"It wasn't the jewelry box you were looking for," I said, not returning his formality. I pulled the box out of my purse and showed him the engravings on the bottom, not handing it to him because this was Emma and I, it was precious.

"Dolorem Animi Extinguo," he read. He was resigned, deflated. "I should have figured."

I scoffed out a laugh. "No, you should have stopped." I placed the box back in my purse and stepped closer to him. "You don't force love, Rumple. You earn it. Stop harassing your ex-wife. Perhaps you've let Miss French down too many times, now, but it's not too late to be a part of your son's life. I have no doubt she will let you, should you ask nicely."

"It's not that easy."

I nodded in agreement. "It never is, at first. But it becomes less and less difficult as time goes by." At his lack of response, I asked, "Why did you want my curse to break?"

"To use the power of the jewelry box, I needed you and Miss Swan to collect all the crystals first. That wouldn't have happened unless you had your memories back." He lowered his gaze, then. Pretending to study the old clock in front of him, he stated, "You should go back to your family," and I was dismissed.

I turned back before closing the door. "You're family too."

I tossed and turned in my bed until the covers had slipped out of underneath the mattress and rose over my feet. When I had had enough, I reached for my phone on the nightstand, quickly typed in, 'Come here or I'll turn your car pink,' and half a second later white smoke announced Emma's arrival.

"Took you long enough," she complained, and I barely had the chance to take in her half-naked figure (tank top and underwear, just like that time at Granny's an eternity ago) before she slid into bed next to me, grinned brightly and said, "Merry Christmas, Honeybuns."

I waved a hand. "Your bug is now pink. I hope you're happy."

Her jaw dropped, much to my delight. "You didn't."

"I think it will be a nice surprise for your parents to wake up to, tomorrow."

"Well, Sweetums, I hope you know I can still return your Christmas present-"

Another wave. "Now it's covered in purple hearts! How precious."

"Stop it!" she laughed, and it was the most wonderful sound in the world.

"What's the magic word?" I teased, an eyebrow shooting up.

Emma didn't reply immediately. She moved so that she was now on top of me, straddling my hips and holding my hands above my head. She kissed her way from my collarbone up to my ear, and after having bitten my lobe and elicited a stifled moan from me, she murmured, "Buttercup."

I cackled at that, and Emma kissed me despite the fact that we were both smiling.

"Merry Christmas, Emma," I said, and everything was perfect.

"I love you."

She rested her head on my chest and hugged my waist. It was the beginning of something special – long overdue, but all kinds of wonderful. Nothing would keep me away from my happy ending, not anymore. Not with Emma's love that could move mountains and break walls, not with my son a few rooms away, a crazy sister, a broken imp and charming in-laws.

It was my future, I was holding in my arms.

We were going to live happily ever after.