Recommended that you read with the song "Semi-Charmed Life" by Third Eye Blind.

Emma takes a deep breath as she turns away from the hospital bed on which Regina lay. She's never experienced this particular brand of fear. The shallow breaths, the restlessness, the inability to look the other woman in the eye – this was all new. No, never before today had she actually felt the all-out panic of possibly losing the one she loved. Never before today had she actually felt anything other than hope and confidence and peace. But never before today had Regina actually looked at her in that way: as if on this day, she needed Emma to be the strong one. Because this day – yeah, she really does need that.

"I made you something." Emma plasters on a smile as she reaches into her backpack which rests on the chair. "It's not much, but… made me smile. I think you'll like it."

"What is it?"

"Hold on."

The blonde takes her iPad from the bag and crosses to the light switch on the opposite wall. She shuts the lights and makes her way over to the bed.

Regina carefully scoots over on the bed, making room for her impossibly adorable girlfriend, who makes a huge production out of getting herself into a comfortable position. If nothing else would do the job, Emma's naturally goofy antics would always put a smile on her face. And sure enough, it does the trick.

As she leans forward to allow Emma to place an arm around her, Regina takes the device into her lap. She laughs to herself when she types in Emma's passcode. 0-2-8-6... The number of days it took a bumbling, teenage Emma to tell the brunette she loved her. Regina remembers the day she first realized that her best friend may feel more for her than simple best-friendliness. It was the same day Emma realized it too, and when they both think back to that day, they wonder how in the hell she ever thought she could keep it a secret? It was never a secret. It was unspoken, yes, but a secret? No.

"Open videos." She points to a file named 'Semi-Charmed Life' and grins when Regina stares at her in that incredulous way she does.

"Third Eye Blind? Seriously?"

"Yes," Emma defends. She kisses the brunette on the cheek then rests her head on her shoulder. "Just watch. I worked hard."

"Okay."

Regina opens the file and presses play. She can't hide the multi-watt smile that forms on pale, chapped lips. This is kind of their song – unofficially. But she's always thought of it as their song. That, too, went unspoken, but never a secret.

Immediately, she recognizes the footage as the shots she'd taken over the past summer. Regina had worked her ass off to save enough money for that camera. It was, after all, the best. And when planning for one's future, sacrifices must be made, right? Well, she'd worked her ass off and finally she had saved up the two thousand dollars she needed. The day she brought the camera home, she'd annoyed Emma something terrible, taking shot after shot after shot. Photos, videos – she barely put the damned thing down. Their entire summer was documented on that thing and somehow Emma had found the time to turn a series of random videos and photos into a montage of the best summer of their lives.

Well, the best as in the best of the worst. Growing up together on the streets, they'd had their fair share of terrible days. But this summer in particular had been the first summer where they'd spent nearly every day on the beach for reasons other than because they had no place else to go. They'd been one year into full-on adulthood: Emma working as a personal trainer at a local gym and Regina working as a line-chef at her favorite restaurant and taking photography classes on the side. They lived in a pretty small and basic apartment, but for two ex-orphans, it was the dream.

Emma yells angrily at the camera as Regina films her in the shower. The brunette's reflection in the mirror shows her hysterical laughter at her girlfriend's expense.

Regina turns to face the blonde, who has her head hidden in her shoulder. "Don't be embarrassed, sweetie," she laughs. "What's the point of you being so hot if I can't show you off?"

"You're not showing me off, you're just mean." They laugh.

Regina and Emma sit on their beach blanket; Emma leans back against the brunette. She holds the camera at arm's length and they pose with silly faces. Regina bites Emma's chin, causing the other woman to giggle until she's red in the face.

A series of pictures and video shots from that day on the beach flash on the screen. One particular photo has Regina now red in the face. Apparently she had fallen asleep for a spell and her loveable idiot was just bold enough to snap a shot of her red bikini-clad ass.

"You took that?" She slaps Emma's arm.

"Ow! Don't hit me! You're little baby hands actually hurt."

"How many pictures of my ass do you have?"

Emma grins, "None of your business."

"You're disgusting."

"You love it."

Rather than retort in her usual sarcastic way, Regina resigns to just watch the video play out and lays her head against Emma's chest, listening for the soothing rhythm of her heart.

When it's all done, there are tears in both their eyes. "Shit," Emma wipes away at her cheeks frantically. "I didn't mean to make you all sad."

"I'm not sad. I'm… I love you."

"I love you too."

When the doctor comes into the room, the two have already done their emotional thing. They could have gone on forever exchanging sentiments and placing reassuring kisses, but the O.R. waits for no one.

"Okay, don't forget to call the guys at work. If you don't, they'll get worried."

"I know."

"And did you turn off the bathroom light this morning? We don't need a sky-high bill next month. You should go check that."

"Gina, I'm not leaving you."

"Okay. Don't forget to eat. You didn't eat. So go do that for me, please?"

"Okay."

The nurses are buzzing around them, prepping for surgery and taking pre-op vitals. "As much I'd like to let you take your time," the doctor interrupts, "we should get going."

"I'll be right out in the waiting room," Emma reminds the surgeon. They'd gotten quite acquainted with him in the long months since Regina's first diagnosis. He'd been there from day one, and when it was determined that the medications were not having the desired effect, he'd been the one to talk to Regina about the likelihood of open-heart surgery to replace the malfunctioning ventricle. "Please keep me updated as much as possible. I mean, focus on her, but let me know. Please?"

"We'll take great care of her."

Only one hour in, Emma numbly watches the television screen in the waiting room. Not that she's actually watching whatever is on right now, but she watches to measure time. The second morning talk show had just gone off and so she figures, about six more talk shows to go. Or five more talk shows and two half hour news segments. Or maybe two morning talk shows, an afternoon baseball game and two half hour sitcoms if she's lucky.

This waiting room chair is the devil.

Regina watches as Emma stares out onto the ocean waves. The breeze tousles blonde hair and she reaches out to tuck the errant strands back into place. "Emma?"

"Hmm?"

"Nothing." She turns back to the book in her lap.

It's kind of what Regina does, Emma muses. She has something she thinks is super important to say or ask and then right when she's about to say or ask it, she gets nervous. It's kind of cute.

Emma turns to face the other woman. "Gina?"

"Hmm?"

She says nothing and waits for the brunette to look up from her book. Once she does, Emma smiles brightly and wiggles her eyebrows. When she elicits a laugh from the other woman, she decides she's done her job for the day. "Are you happy with me?"

Regina pauses a bit – not because she doesn't know the answer, but because it's still shocking to her how Emma always seems to know what she's trying to say. "Yeah, I am."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Like, for reals for reals?"

"Yes, Emma," she giggles. "I'm happy. I'm not quite sure how we got here, but we're here. And I'm happy. And every night I thank God you're in my life."

Emma returns the sentiment with a simple smile.

"B.P.'s dropping!" the perfusionist announces to the room. Surgeons and nurses flutter about the room preparing their tools and readying themselves to address the problem.

"Someone go update the family," the surgeon orders.

Just over five hours in, Emma had been watching her homemade movie on repeat to pass the time. She jumps to her feet when she hears a doctor come into the waiting area and yell, "Mills family?"

"That's me. Right here."

"Family of Regina Mills?" the doctor verifies. "Is there anyone else with you?"

"No," the blonde looks down self-consciously, "it's just me. How is she doing?"

"Dr. McKellan was able to successfully replace the ventricle but there was a complication toward the end of the procedure. Regina's blood pressure dropped dangerously low. We're doing everything we can to stabilize her."

"I'm sorry? She – what does that –"

"Sometimes patients have reactions to the anesthesia that can cause a drop in blood pressure. As I said, we're doing everything we can."

She nods politely and watches as the doctor rushes back toward the O.R., all the while not really absorbing the news.

She feels her feet moving and on some level knows she's walking swiftly away from the waiting area. She'd somehow had enough presence of mind to grab her things from her seat and take them with her. But the next thing Emma knows, she's standing outside of the hospital chapel. She stares at the doors wondering, 'Why?' Why did I come here?' It's not like Emma is necessarily a spiritual person. That's Regina's department, not hers. But she's drawn all the same. She's drawn and she goes in.

Confused is kind of understating what Regina felt the moment her favorite red bikini morphed into a pale blue hospital gown. She looks up to see if Emma notices the change as well but is met with utter loneliness. Emma is gone. Her book is gone. In fact, everyone and everything on that beach is gone except for her and the blanket she rests on.

Looking around for any sign of life, Regina takes a deep breath when she sees the tall figure walking towards her, dressed in a white tunic and pants. His eyes are ablaze but his smile is soft. He speaks in a gentle tone that nonetheless resonates deep within her. "Come with me," is all he says.

She follows.

"I'm dead?" Regina asks the tall bronze-skinned man. They stand in the operating room, seemingly unnoticed, watching the doctors and nurses scramble about in an attempt to stabilize her.

"Death is temporary. But no, you're not quite dead yet."

A single tear falls from the woman's eye, "Yet?"

"Your fate is yet to be determined."

"What do you mean?" she turns to face the man. "How will my fate be determined?"

"My name is Asher. I'm your guardian. I've been with you your whole life, you know? And normally you and I would never see each other. However in your case, it seems your death is not yet a certainty."

"How is that possible? How can a death not be certain? Who gets to decide?"

"Death is an unfortunate side effect of life. It's not administered, as some might think. It's simply something that happens to the fragile human body. But it is possible for one to be spared for the time being. That's why I'm here now… Somebody's been praying very hard on your behalf…"

"Emma? But she doesn't even –"

"Believe? Maybe not yet, but faith is taking the first step. And someone very powerful is under the opinion that she should be granted her requests as a reward for taking that first step."

"But why me? Why, when so many people pray for miracles every day, should I be the one to live?"

"It's not about you, Regina. This is about Emma. She needs you. She needs your influence in her life and without you – without this miracle – her infantile faith will die."

When Regina takes another look around at her surroundings, she realizes they are no longer in the O.R., but in what appears to be a chapel. She hears the muted sobbing from the front row and watches as Emma harshly wipes away tears from her face.

Asher continues, "Many people pray for things they need or want or for loved ones to live to see the next day. Not everyone gets that wish granted. And for those who are among the lucky ones to receive the gift of renewed life, it doesn't make them anymore special – it just means that they had work left to do."

"She still needs me."

"She needs her guardian."

"God, I know I'm not the best person. And I know I can be pretty shitty to you sometimes. I blamed you for a lot of stuff happening – for my parents abandoning me, for sick children in the world, hell I blamed you for the Giants getting creamed in game six because I thought you were gonna make them lose just because I loved them and you clearly hated me. But then they came back in game seven and took the series. So, I'm sorry I blame you for a lot of stuff. I'm just… I'm angry. A lot's happened and I don't get why, if you're so powerful, you would let it all happen. And I still don't really get it… but I also can see now all the good stuff I have in my life. I'm a foster kid who was able to get a college degree and I make pretty decent money doing something I love. I don't have a mansion, but I have a warm place to live and a bed – which is a huge step up from sleeping in the back seat of my bug. I have friends who would do anything for me, and even though I don't have family, I guess they're kind of family. And to top it all off I have Regina. She's… she's kind of my whole soul. And now I'm thinking – if I hadn't have been abandoned, and if she hadn't have been taken from her parents' custody, and if we hadn't have both ended up in the same group home – would we have met?

"I'm not really sure. Maybe. Maybe not. But we did. And I'm not saying I'm grateful for the shitty life you gave us both. I don't think I'll ever be grateful for that. But if it was you who made it all line up perfectly so I could meet her, then I thank you for that. And since you went through all the trouble to do that, you can't take it away no. You can't. I just – I feel like I just now started to understand why she believes in you so much. And I'm just now starting to figure out why she can always be so happy even when it seems like life sucks. And I want to tell her all that. I want to talk to her about all this new stuff I'm figuring out. And I need her advice. I need her logic and reasoning. I need her to know that I agree with her now when she says that it was all worth it just to come home at night snuggle into my arms. And I need for you to send her back to me so that I'll know you've actually been listening and you give a damn. I need to believe in you and I took the first step by talking to you, so do me this one thing more and let her live so I know that you're there. Please?"

The blonde winces in her seat when she feels a soft caress against her cheek. She takes a deep, shuddering breath and her tears cease falling because somehow right now, she feels comforted. It's like a blanket of calm clarity being drawn over her.

There's a wave of electricity that runs through Regina and she hisses in pain. "Asher… what's h-happening?"

The man looks up expectantly. He nods his head and places his hand on Regina's heart. A warm, purple glow emanated from his fingers and the glow permeates her skin.

"It burns!" she sobs.

"I know. It will be over shortly," he comforts.

She's brought to her knees at the sudden wild thumping in her chest and then it's over. There's darkness. And beeping.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Regina's eyelashes flutter and she struggles to open her eyes. She can feel warm sunlight on her face, presumably from a nearby window. When she manages to get them slightly open, she also notes the soft sound of breathing next to her.

She looks down and sees her girlfriend's head rested on the side of the hospital bed while she's seated in what looks like a very uncomfortable plastic chair.

"Emma," her voice comes out raspy and straining. She clears her throat a bit. "Em..."

"Gina?" the blonde sits up suddenly, nearly giving herself whiplash. Tears fall from her eyes and she doesn't even attempt to wipe them away. "Morning."

"Morning," Regina whispers.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I just had my heart cut out," she snarks.

They both laugh; Regina's laugh is much more strained due to her condition.

"Well, at least when they cut out your heart, they fixed it all up for you."

"Yes. After all I can't, in good conscience, give you my broken, non-functioning heart, now can I?"

"Broken or not, I'd still love and protect it to my last breath."

She reaches out to caress Emma's tear-stained cheek, "Don't be mellow-dramatic, dear."

Emma laughs half-heartedly, the anxiety of the last twenty-four hours weighing on her. "Everyone is out in the waiting room – the guys from the restaurant, M.M., even Killian showed up. Who would have thought it, because you guys hate each other so much, but he's been a nervous wreck all night."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she looks down, tangling her fingers with the brunette's. "So have I."

"I know."

"You can tell?" Emma nervously laughs.

"Tell me something, darling: you asked for me to be returned to you, and I'm here… so now do you believe?"

"You- but I don't-"

"Yes, you do. You know what I mean."

"How do you know?"

"I saw you. I heard you. I felt you," she caresses Emma's cheek in that way she does, sending a shiver through the other woman.

"You were there?"

A nod in the affirmative.

"You died?" Emma chokes out.

"Not quite. I was allowed to come back."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why?"

"Because you need me. Because you still need your angel."

Emma buries her face in Regina's lap as tears fall freely. Her sniffles and sobs are muted and the blanket becomes soaked with her tears, but she nods in acceptance of Regina's explanation. She doesn't question anymore, but simply accepts.

"Okay," she nods her head fervently. "Okay."

The End.