A/N: I haven't written in quite a while but tonight's episode broke me. Literally. There were tears. I had to do something to give Regina a little bit of comfort after what she went through. No one "deserves" to lose their mother, no matter how "evil" they are. (Yes, I spent about two minutes on a message board dedicated to the show and my little Evil Regal heart broke all over again). Everyone deserves to have someone tell them that they have someone in their life so they won't be lonely. And, as a Swan Queen shipper (uh, Regina/whoever shipper- is that a thing?), I had to do something directed towards a happy ending.

"Go away." Slightly drunk and covered by a layer of tears, the words did little to deter the unwanted visitor who dared to break into her home. Not for the first time, she reminded herself as she grappled for the bottle on the table. Her fingers brushed against the cool glass, its temperature cooling still in the frigid mansion. Why bother with heat when all you felt was the cold reminder that death was final?

"Can't do that, Regina," came the almost-vicious reply from the blonde woman standing in the foyer.

With her tidy grey coat and black ensemble, the saviour didn't so much resemble an executioner as much as an irritant the former queen wished to be rid of, like a badger or a teeny field mouse. Something she could squash if it came down to it. "Sure you can, Ms. Swan," Regina retorted, pausing to take a healthy sip of whiskey. "All you have to do is march back the way you came, open the door, and leave yourself on the other side of it."

"You threatened my mother," came the expected reply. The saviour was nothing if not predictable.

"And she killed mine, dear. I fail to see how one is connected to the other." And in the drunken haze of her grieving, the two didn't seem so much connected as they were inconveniently tearing her away from the love she always desired. Wasn't it enough that the white knight had seen to it that her son would never love her or even speak to her again? Did she really have to come all the way over to make her threats and blusters to defend her mother's honour? Regina blinked at the blonde blur that appeared to move closer to the table she was draped over. Lifting a hand to her temple, she began to soothe her poor mind. Hell, if she could only remember the threat she had actually rallied against Snow White. It certainly wasn't, "I will destroy your happiness," this time. Though, it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibilities, provided her head stopped pounding and her vision cleared enough to be able to distinguish between Snow White and that annoying dwarf who ran around town bellowing.

Emma stopped short of the kitchen table, wondering how much the former mayor had consumed since she left Gold's shop with her mother in her arms. The sheriff glanced around the room, searching for Cora's body. With her luck, Regina would know a counter spell or some shit straight out of a Harry Potter book to bring back the wicked woman. As much as she never wanted to see Regina lose her mother, there was another part of her that realised Cora would have stopped at nothing to destroy the world if it meant gaining the power she so desperately wanted. And, hell, if the roles were reversed and Regina manipulated her into killing Snow White, she'd probably be just as drunk as the woman clutching onto her kitchen table like it was a life preserver. "I can't let you hurt her," she finally murmured into the echoing house.

"Are you going to stop me? You and your new boy toy? Or, should I say old boy toy?"

Full of questions, irrelevant questions, Emma thought as she took another step closer to the brunette. For once, she wished she had dragged Regina along with Henry and Rumplestiltskin on that trip to New York; she wished she had taken the time to see the loneliness and pain in Regina's eyes when Henry willing walked away from her. God, if she had been more of a white knight, more of a saviour to the one person who had needed her the most, maybe none of this needed to happen. "I don't love him, Regina. He's nothing more than Henry's father, a guy I really could have spent the rest of my life never seeing again."

A harsh snort filled the air, so out of the norm for the normally put-together woman that it startled Emma. "She loved me," Regina mumbled mostly into the bottle she cradled to her chest. It was all she had left, that and her house; things were her sanctuary now. She had killed her father out of hatred and despair; her mother had died in her arms because she was so desperate to see if the woman actually loved her; Henry had been driven off by her desire to control those she loved so she could finally win. And now, she was left with an empty house, full bank accounts, and a couple of bottles of whiskey to keep her company until she inevitably passed on from alcohol poisoning or allowed the town to take its vengeance against her.

The blonde pulled out the chair next to Regina and risked her wrath by seating herself. The other woman didn't so much as blink when Emma laid a soft hand on her wrist. "She really did, Regina. I think...I think she always wanted the best for you but, without her heart, she didn't know how to show you that you were the best thing in hers."

"And then your mother killed her to save that damned little imp."

The callous tone was back, biting harsh against the emptiness that swirled around them. How had she never noticed how empty this house was without Henry running around in it? It was a sharp contrast to the apartment she shared with her parents that always seemed to be too full with all of them running in and out. "And he will pay for his crimes," exited her mouth before she could censor the words. Did she really have any jurisdiction on what happened in another world? Heck, she was almost willing to promise blank slates to everyone in town if it got her a weekend off from playing white knight.

"You should kill me," Regina continued, eyes lowered to her precious bottle.

The blonde had the sudden urge to tear that bottle away from the brunette woman and demand she walk with her down to Archie's. There had to be some sort of therapy treatment for a woman who was abused by her mother, married to a man (and Lord only knew what happened there) she didn't love, forced to play mother to his daughter who betrayed a trust, and then cast a curse to bring herself some happiness in her life only to watch that happiness walk out the door with his birth mother and happy little family while she remained alone. Emma cast an envious look to the bottle of quality whiskey; would it be too much to ask for a tiny sip? "Too bad, 'cause I'm not going to," she finally answered. "You've done some shitty things but I don't think you should die for them." Or have me kill you for them, she added silently.

"I have nothing left," the brunette confided. "My mother's dead, my father's dead, the town hates me, Henry hates me-"

"Henry doesn't hate you. He's just confused right now, and frankly, I think he really needs his mom in his life to straighten him out a bit." The kid's sense of right and wrong was really getting screwed up with the addition of new family members and recent upheaval in his life. Neal was suddenly a great guy because he had knocked up his birth mom before leaving her to his jail sentence; Emma herself was a wonderful role model even though she had stolen before turning to bounty hunting, and yet Regina, the woman who had raised him for ten years, was evil and therefore ought to be hated despite the love she had for him.

"Yes, he does, Ms. Swan." Regina glanced up, her eyes frightfully dull and void. "There's nothing left for me here."

Emma gripped the other woman's wrist tighter, a subtle reminder that there was still someone who cared. Before the curse had broken, the blonde had often thought that there might be something worth exploring with the imperious mayor, but things had soon spiralled out of control and pieces were dropped that should have been handled with care. Risking death and dismemberment, Emma stood and leaned over to wrap her arms around Regina's trembling frame. Like she would a child, she rocked the other woman back and forth, whispering soft, comforting nothings into her dark hair. "I've got you," she repeated, focusing on the one statement instead of the ramblings that raced around her mind. "I'm going to be here and I'm going to love you through this."