A/N: Sorry this is another short chapter. Chapter 3 will wrap up this fic and will hopefully be a little longer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It wasn't long before Emma made her excuses and left the apartment. It had never felt more like her parents' and less like her own than it did as she walked out seeking escape.

Emma had gathered her things on autopilot while avoiding her mother's gaze. She could feel Snow watching her, but she couldn't deal with the fears that had just sprung up inside her while under her watchful eyes.

Now Emma was driving, not sure where she was going but certain she couldn't go home-wherever that even really was.

~*~*~*~*~
Nearly three hours had passed before Henry found her sitting on a bench staring out at the water. She hadn't noticed how cold she was getting, or the calls she'd missed on her phone.

He sat beside her without a word, nestling against her as he so rarely did these days. Still in this moment the little boy she'd never really raised. Emma wrapped her arm around him and pulled him closer.

"Hey kid, how come you're not home with your mom?"

"We were worried about you," he told her pointedly. "I called Grandma and she said you left hours ago. Mom insisted it was nothing, but she seemed sad you weren't home."

Emma's heart squeezed. She hated the thought of Regina sad, but Regina sad because she wanted her there… Emma sighed. She was in this mess in the first place from getting her hopes up. "What makes you think that, kid?"

He shrugged a shoulder noncommittally. "She keeps things to herself, but I can tell. When you're around she forgets to be sad."

"Henry… It's only been a few weeks since Robin Hood left. Your mom's going to be sad for a long time." Maybe if she said the words enough she'd be able to forget the feel of Regina's soft lips against her own, the sparkle in her eyes when she teased, the crackle of electricity between them when their hands brushed together in innocent moments. Maybe she'd be able to convince herself Regina was grieving and couldn't possibly want the life that had been filling Emma's daydreams.

"Maybe she is sad sometimes," Henry admitted reluctantly, "but with you it's different. Her eyes light up again, and she stops having to try."

Emma furrowed her brow in confusion and Henry searched for the words to explain. "Mom's always trying. Trying to be a hero, trying to be a good mom, trying to be good enough to be forgiven. With Robin she tried to be perfect and happy, like she wasn't even… her. But with you she just is. She doesn't try to be perfect, or a hero, she's just Mom. She teases and she laughs and she gets a little mad sometimes, but she's not sad with you, and she doesn't have to be anybody else."

"You really think I can make her happy kid?"

"You already do," Henry stated firmly. "But I think she'd be even happier if you were together. Just don't get all gross around me," he added hastily.

"Gross? We're not gross!"

"Yeah, but if you start kissing all the time like Grandma and Grandpa you will be."

Emma nudged him playfully. "You can't have it both ways. Grown-ups do gross things like kiss when they're together."

"Yeah, well, you and Mom can skip that part." Emma stuck out her tongue and Henry responded in kind before they broke into matching grins. Silence fell between them and after a few moments Henry whispered, "I just want us to be a family."

"Me too kid," Emma admitted quietly, placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "Me too."

~*~*~*~*~
Emma and Henry came home to the smell of baking cookies and a Regina whose smiles shone with relief at their return.

Henry was beyond excited for what he called swirl cookies, and his mothers' gazes met as they chuckled at this childish enthusiasm.

These moments of Henry still acting like the little boy she first met almost three years ago were already fading, and Emma knew they would only become fewer and farther between as time went on. As Emma saw her own bittersweet happiness reflected in dark eyes, she knew whatever moments like this were left she wanted to share with Regina.

Maybe it could be that simple.

~*~*~*~*~
The evening was spent in quiet comfort. They sat together on the couch, Emma squished in the middle with Henry sprawled half across her lap and Regina's feet tucked under her left leg. Only someone very generous would have called it physically comfortable, but with the fuzzy blanket she'd been given on the second day of Christmukkah draped over them all and a cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon in her hands she was content.

Emma could safely say that she had no better understanding of Dinner for One, or why it was a New Years tradition, after seeing it than before. Henry attempted to explain that it was about endings and loneliness before giving up when he realized it made no sense to him either.
"It's just a thing you do," he said finally. "Like party poppers and fireworks and kissing at midnight." Emma blushed slightly and her eyes flickered to Regina who was decidedly looking away.

With the programme over, Emma and Henry won out over Regina's half-hearted objections and put on a New Years Eve special complete with mediocre pop music and outrageous costumes. The trio spent more time laughing over the absurdity than actually watching, but as the lazy evening wore on and Emma allowed her head to rest on the brunette's shoulder she knew she'd rather end a year like this than in Times Square or at any of the wild parties of her youth.

Maybe she wouldn't be having hot drunken sex with a near-stranger tonight, but she also knew she wouldn't want to run away come morning.

~*~*~*~*~
Just before midnight, the women headed to the kitchen to pour drinks. Emma's heart was thumping as the night drew to a close, and in her nervous state she spilled half the bottle of sparkling cider. Regina huffed and rolled her eyes but was quick to grab a spare towel from the pantry and move to help. The blonde mumbled a sheepish "Sorry," and was rewarded with an exasperated smile.

The hour was quickly approaching as they entered the room, Emma holding both glasses of champagne as Regina handed their son his cider over the back of the couch. He grabbed it absently at set it on the coffee table, eyes never leaving the screen.

"Moms!" Henry called out excitedly. "It's time!" He was mesmerized by the TV as he chanted along with the countdown.

"Ten."

Emma turned to face Regina.

"Nine."

Their eyes met.

"Eight."

A small smile spread across her lips.

"Seven."

Emma slightly tilted her head.

"Six."

She took a tiny step closer until their bodies were nearly touching.

"Five."

Regina's breath brushed across her chin.

"Four."

Emma licked her lips.

"Three."

Deep breath.

"Two."

Emma leaned in.

"One."

Regina turned and ran.