Emma found Regina sleeping in Henry's bed, curled up, clutching a pillow. In spite of the darkness of the room, Emma could make out the tear-stained tracks evident on Regina's face. She looked younger while sleeping, lacking the of intensity her waking mask. Emma pulled a chair next to the bed, taking a seat. She lifted a boot-clad leg and kicked the mattress. Regina startled awake, confusion reigning over her features. A flash of lightening from the raging storm provided Regina a glimpse of the Savior. Regina pulled herself up to a seated position, leaning against the headboard, pillow still clutched to her chest.

"Where's Henry?"

"With his grandparents," Emma replied caustically.

"Have you come to finish me off, then, Savior?" Regina rasped.

Emma ignored the question, instead taking in Regina's defeated tone, her look of utter disconsolation.

"You didn't run very far."

"I've nowhere to go," Regina responded, "Henry was my home."

"I was leaving, Regina!" Emma stood abruptly, kicking the chair back, tipping it over, as she paced Henry's room, their son's room. "I was fucking leaving!"

"He would never have been mine as long as you were around."

"What's the matter, Regina, mommy never teach you to share?" Emma spat.

At the mention of her mother, Regina's face paled, fresh tears threatening to fall. Closing her eyes to fight off the tears, Regina tilted her head back, resting it against the wall behind her.

"My mother taught me many things," she whispered, "Sharing wasn't one of them."

Emma blinked, as guilt crept up on her, as a flash of a deep, long carried pain etched Regina's face. Emma's conversation with her mother, with Snow, Mary Margaret - fuck, this was all too damn much - rang in her ears, of Regina's mother's deceit and treachery. Only to be displaced the next moment, by the gnawing of 28 years of loneliness and loss. Renewed anger blossomed toward this woman before her, who had ripped everything from Emma, surged through her, leaving her shaking with rage born of that loneliness.

"I was willing to walk away, Regina!" Emma turned away from Regina, hands clenched into fists, aching to strike out, to rip Regina's heart out.

"One can't escape one's destiny, Miss Swan."

"Destiny!" Emma cried, "Destiny! You're saying it was my destiny to spend 28 years of my life alone and unloved! To not know kindness, or affection, to learn painful lessons on why one shouldn't bother believing in people, becoming to dependent on others, cause they'll only let you down!"

"You ripped everything from me, Regina!"

"Emma-."

"Everything, Regina," she grabbed Regina by the lapels of her jacket, lifting Regina from her seated position on the bed. Regina offered no resistance, tears freely flowing, a sob escaping before she could contain it. "Damn you, Regina! Damn you for what you've taken from me! From all of us!"

Just as quickly as the rage bubbled up and overflowed, it died, Emma releasing her hold on Regina, dropping a now openly sobbing Regina unceremoniously back onto the bed.

Fatigue slowly caught up with Emma. She turned and walked away from Regina, unable to watch the broken woman before her. She settled by the window, looking out upon the purple clouds and driving rain that enveloped Storybrooke. Shoulders slumped, she turned back to Regina.

"The storm, the purple cloud," Emma turned to stare hard at Regina, "What does it mean?"

"Rumpelstiltskin used the true love potion to bring magic to this world," Regina gasped through sobs.

"But that means..."

"Yes," she halting answered the unspoken question, "I can feel the magic coursing through me."

"But you haven't..."

"Used it?" Regina chuckled darkly, "To what end?" Regina reached for the pillow she'd been clinging to previously, Henry's pillow. "True love is stronger than anything. No charm or spell could bring Henry back to me, Miss Swan. He's your son. I was just a caretaker."

Emma gasped at the hollowness of Regina's voice, the desolation.

"I've sacrificed everything for love that I'm clearly not worthy of experiencing. Not the love of a mother for her daughter, not the love of a child for his mother, not the love of a husband for his wife, not the love of a lover for her beloved."

"Regina..."

"I've been a pawn my whole life, Miss Swan," Regina reached for something on the nightstand, "The game ends here, tonight."