A/N: I hope you enjoy the final chapter of this story. I apologize in advance for how ridiculously sappy it is; although if you've made it this far, I suspect that you don't mind too much.

Emma wakes up to the sounds of birds chirping outside the window. As summer descends on Storybrooke the birds seem to awaken earlier and earlier. Emma looks at the clock on her bedside table – 3:52 a.m. It's a time that is far too early for the birds to be making all this noise in Emma's opinion.

Emma glances down at the woman sleeping in her arms. Six years ago today they had been married, and on that day Emma had thought she could never be happier. But she swears that everyday she grows more content and more in love.

Regina is curled into Emma, dark hair splayed across Emma's chest, soft puffs of air tickling her skin. Regina looks peaceful. For years, she had always seemed tormented in her sleep. Even on days when Regina couldn't recall nightmares, her face had seemed pained as she slept. But Emma has watched as the peaceful nights overtook the haunted ones, until now most nights find Regina's lips curling into a small smile as she rests.

Emma hates to disturb Regina, but she wants to check on Sam. As carefully as possible Emma maneuvers her body from under Regina, making sure to lay her head on a pillow. Regina mumbles and clutches the pillow closer, and Emma spends a moment just taking in the image of Regina like this before leaving the bedroom.

Anytime Emma or Regina wake up in the middle of the night they check on Sam – like they would have if they'd had her as a baby – back when they could have spared her the pain. Now they can only soothe – soothe the nightmares away and hope that it makes a difference.

Emma opens the door to Sam's room only to find it empty. She sighs sadly, knows that her daughter is having yet another sleepless night, and closes the door. Emma finds Sam on the couch in the living room wrapped in a comfy blanket and watching Casablanca. Years ago, Regina had shared her favorite insomnia routine of black and white movies and chamomile tea, and Sam has embraced it whole-heartedly.

"Hey Sammie," Emma says sitting down next to her daughter and stealing a corner of the blanket for herself. "Can't sleep?"

Sam shrugs and then asks her ma, "Why are you awake?"

"The birds are too damn loud."

Emma looks at Sam, clutching her mug of tea, holding on to it as though it were a tether to reality keeping her from reliving the awful memories again. "Come here," Emma says, extending an arm and allowing Sam to lean against her shoulder. Emma gives her daughter's arm a squeeze and feels the muscles in the young woman's body begin to slowly relax.

Emma had never planned to be a mother. She had resisted it, even after Henry had walked into her life and insisted that she was his mother. She had never seen herself as the mother type. After all, what could a woman raised in foster care know about how to take care of a child? But she had learned. Henry and Regina had taught her about school plays and how to pack the perfect lunch for school. About sacrifice and knowing that you would do anything for your child. And then Sam had come into their lives, and somehow Emma Swan the friendless orphan had become Emma Swan the wife and mother. And if the roles felt uneasy on occasion, if she still looked to Regina whenever Henry needed to be punished, it mattered little because Emma had a family at last.

The first light of day is peeking into the house as Emma watches her wife descend the stairs in a pair of boxers and an oversized t-shirt that she has stolen from Emma's closet. Emma had teased Regina when she first began raiding her closet, but then she had realized that her stubborn, oppositional wife would go back to her silk pajamas. So Emma had learned to shut her mouth, and her reward had been the continued sight of Regina strolling through the house looking ridiculously relaxed and casual.

"Hello my favorite girls," Regina says as she walks into the living room. Sam giggles, like she always does at the endearment. The sound of that laugh – high pitched and infectious – is the same as it had been when Sam had first come to live with Emma and Regina. The sound makes them smile now just as it had then.

Regina leans over to kiss Sam's head and steal a hand full of popcorn (Emma had decided that it was a perfectly acceptable breakfast for her and Sam) before sitting down in the empty spot on the couch next to Emma. The sheriff wraps her arm around Regina, pulling her closer. The brunette lays her head on her wife's shoulder and cuddles into Emma sleepily. "Happy anniversary," Regina mutters against her wife's chest.

Emma chuckles. "Happy anniversary."

"Did you have a nightmare?" Regina asks Sam.

"No. Just couldn't sleep." Regina reaches over and gives her daughter's knee a squeeze. "I'm ok, Mom."

Emma reaches her hand under Regina's shirt and settles her palm on the brunette's waist. The caress feels impossibly wonderful. "Mmm," Regina moans contentedly into Emma's neck.

"Comfortable Mom?" Sam asks with a laugh. Her mothers can be saccharinely sweet, and she has never known them any other way with each other. But she sees them with other people (acting so very differently from when they're with their family), and she's heard stories of their lives before they were together. So seeing them like this – happy and in love even after all that they've lived through – gives Sam hope that she can be happy too.

"Very."

Henry had fully intended to sneak into bed and have his parents be none the wiser, but the second he opens the door, he hears Emma's snort of laughter coming from the living room, and he knows he's out of luck.

"Henry?" Regina yells to him.

He pokes his head into the living room. "Happy anniversary!" he calls, before ducking out of the doorway.

"Woah, woah, woah, not so fast," Emma says. "You're not going to tell us how your date went?"

Henry's cheeks redden noticeably and Sam can't help herself. "He's getting home at 5 in the morning. I'd say it went pretty well."

"Did you use a condom?" Emma blurts out, and Henry is fairly certain that all his blood rushes to his cheeks.

"Ma!" he screams, covering his ears.

"I'm too young to be a grandmother," Emma continues.

"I'm older than you were when you had me," Henry counters.

"Henry dear," Regina jumps in before Emma can start talking again. "Do you think you could try your hardest not to follow in Ma's footsteps?"

"Ugh," Henry groans. "Not you too."

"We just want you to be safe kid," Emma says. "If you want us to buy condoms for you –"

"Ma!" Henry shrieks again, and much to his annoyance both of his mothers and his sister are laughing at his reaction. "I'm going to bed," he announces, stalking off to his room.

Regina and Emma are drinking coffee together a few hours later when Henry finally emerges from his bedroom. He walks outside and joins them at the patio table with a cup of coffee in hand.

Emma lifts her head off of Regina's shoulder just long enough to look at Henry's cup judgmentally. "I remember when you wouldn't even take a sip of my frappuccinos, and now you're chugging black coffee."

Henry rolls his eyes.

"So," Regina says, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "When are we going to get to meet Kim?"

"Never."

"I promise to keep Ma under control," Regina says with a kiss to Emma's cheek. Emma makes a show of looking horribly offended but still doesn't manage to control her smile as she lightly smacks Regina's arm.

"You're just as bad Mom. You'll take out my baby albums while Ma interrogates Kim about what kind of birth control she's on."

"Oh thank god," Emma says, seriously relieved at the tacit admission.

"I didn't mean…" Henry trails off, turning red and realizing that he's been caught.

Emma chuckles and turns to Regina, "our little boy's all grown up."

Emma and Regina are sitting in the backyard that their children have elaborately and painstakingly decorated with lights and flowers. Henry and Sam had served their mothers the dinner that they prepared (with some much welcomed help from Ruby) before wishing them a happy anniversary again and leaving to visit their grandparents for the night.

Regina is stroking her thumb against the back of Emma's hand across the table. "Sometimes it's hard to believe that this is real. I didn't know that I could be happy like this."

"Me either," Emma says, and then, knowing the words that Regina doesn't say, the fears and regret and guilt that are still difficult to give voice to, Emma continues, "You deserve all the happiness in the world."

Regina knows that this is far from true, but to deny herself this happiness would be to deny Emma hers, to deny their children the love that she gives everyday. Regina smiles in thanks, and Emma wonders whether Regina will ever really believe that she deserves love after all that she's done. "Thank you for giving me that happiness, Emma."

"Thank you," Emma says, leaning across the table and kissing Regina. Emma knows every inch of this woman. The contours of her lips, the way her thumb feels stroking Emma's cheek, the tenderness of the way she sucks Emma's lip so gently. It's familiar and comfortable, and it is without a doubt the home that Emma spent her life searching for. "I love you," Emma whispers, her forehead leaning against Regina's.

Regina grins in that way that only Emma and their kids ever get to see. This type of grin makes her look like a young girl, so full of life and joy. Sometimes when Emma closes her eyes she still can remember what Regina looked like before, when her eyes were guarded and tinged with pain. Emma remembers how the brunette's expression mirrored so perfectly what Emma herself felt. And how, slowly, almost miraculously, they had opened each other up, how they had begun to mirror each other's smiles.

Regina pulls at their joined hands, and Emma takes the hint and walks around the table to Regina's side. Regina tugs at Emma, and the blonde sits down in her wife's lap. Firm hands wrap around Emma's waist as Regina squeezes her tight. Emma feels so incredibly loved. It still makes her heart flutter.

"I'm proud of us," Regina says, her arms still holding Emma tightly. "Six years." She presses a kiss to Emma's neck. "Six." Another kiss. "Very happy years."

"Yes they have been. Best of my life."

"Mine too. I love you so much Emma," Regina says as she presses another soft kiss to her wife's lips. "Who would have thought?" she muses, thinking back to the night she first met Emma Swan.

"I'm sorry that I'm so irresistible."

Regina chuckles. "You most certainly are."

"Care to show me exactly how irresistible I am?" Emma asks with a goofy wiggle of her eyebrows.

"That I do, love. That I do."