"We share a son, we share a bed, isn't it about time we share a house?"

Regina turned in the bed to face Emma, eyes wide. "You want to move in?"

Emma shrugged. "Why not?"

Regina blinked, trying to come up with one good reason for her not to.

"I mean, I practically live here already," Emma went on. "And it was fine living with Mary Margaret when we were just roommates and I didn't know she was my mother, but now it's just weird. I mean, what 29 year old woman still lives with her parents?"

"Do you realize you started two of those three sentences with 'I mean'?"

"What are you, a grammar nazi?"

"A what?"

"Never mind. So… what's the verdict?"

Regina sighed. "I can't think of a good reason for you not to," she admitted.

Emma smiled and wrapped her arms around her. "Yay!"

"You are such a child."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Oh, you so don't get to sit on a pedestal of maturity." She pulled back, gesturing to Regina's stitches to prove her point. "Any usual wound requiring stitches would've healed by now, and those things have been there for a month. They're not even partially dissolved. You should've scarred over by now."

"Alright, fine, I retract my statement that you're a child."

"Thank you." She gently took Regina's arm and studied it. "Really, it's like day one. I thought time was moving forward in this town again."

"It is," Regina insisted.

"Yet…"

"Emma, time's not frozen. Not anymore. It's only taking forever to heal because it was I strike to kill, I hit an artery on purpose. I'd imagine that's not what one would call 'any usual wound'."

Emma sighed. "Regina…"

"Don't 'Regina' me. You're the one that brought it up."

"Okay. Okay, I'm sorry. Come here." Emma drew her into her arms again and lightly stroked her hair. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just worried, okay? I care about you and I don't like seeing you hurt, especially when it's because of me."

"Emma, it's not your fault."

"Isn't it, though?"

"Emma, no."

"But it is! You only have those stupid stitches because you cut yourself and you wouldn't have done that if I weren't basically dead in the hospital and I wouldn't have been there if I would've just waited until I got here to talk to you instead of calling you when I was driving. How is it not my fault?"

"Ssh, Emma, you'll wake Henry." Regina pulled back but gently stroked her thumb over Emma's cheek. "Don't blame yourself, okay? It doesn't matter."

"But –"

"No, it doesn't matter."

"Why?"

"Because I love you. That is what matters."

"Geez, kid, you're squishing me."

"Let her breathe, dear."

Henry let go of Emma and looked up at them with happy, excited eyes. "You mean it? You're really gonna move in?"

"I really am."

Then it was Regina's turn to be squished.

"Oh!" Regina wondered when Henry had gotten so strong.

"Thank you," he said as he pulled back.

"For what, dear?"

"For letting her move in, duh!"

"Hey." Emma placed a hand on Henry's shoulder, who looked over to her. She shook her head. "Not nice."

Henry's shoulders sagged a bit. "Sorry."

"Oh, no harm no foul." Regina ruffled Henry's hair.

Emma shook her head again, wondering how it was that every time she tried doing the parenting thing, it was always contradicted by Regina. She was going to have to work on syncing up with her parenting skills.

Henry's eyes lingered on Regina's arm. "Is that ever going to heal?"

Emma diverted his attention, kneeling down beside him. She took his hands in hers. "Hey, kid. How 'bout you go and play your video games or something?"

"But –"

"Listen to your mother, dear," Regina told him.

Henry sighed. "Alright." He went off to do as he was told.

Emma rose back to her feet. "Sorry about that."

"I can definitely see the family resemblance."

Emma laughed softly. "Yeah, well, what can I say? He's nearly a teenager, and those were my most, let's say defined ages."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I was always right."

Regina scoffed. "He must've gotten that trait a few years early, then."

"If you mean the fairytale thing, he kinda was always right."

"So? Whether or not something happens to be true doesn't mean it changes the fact that he thinks he's always right."

Emma laughed, holding her hands up. "Okay, okay. Truce." She knew they would go back and forth all day if she didn't put a stop to it. It was, after all, what they'd done best from the very first time they met.

Emma unlocked the front door and closed it behind her. "Regina?" The Mayor hadn't been to work that day and her car was parked outside. Emma wanted to know why. She looked around but didn't see her in the main living room.

"Up here." Regina was at the top of the stairs, wine glass in hand. She started down the stairs but only managed to take two steps before pitching forward.

Emma ran up the stairs, catching her before she fell flat on her face. "Jesus, Regina, how much did you drink?" As she helped straighten Regina up, the glass slipped from Regina's hand, breaking when it hit the stairs.

"Mmm… Dunno."

Emma shook her head. Regina was completely plastered. "Okay, come on. Let's get you to bed before you pass out." She put one of Regina's arms around her shoulders and wrapped her own arm around Regina's waist. She helped her back up to the top of the stairs, but once Regina's feet were on flat ground, they started dragging. "Alright, you deadweight." Emma bent just a bit so she could put her other arm under Regina's legs, lifting her up. She staggered under the weight. "Jesus, Regina," she gasped. "You're heavier than you look." She carried her to the bedroom and sat her down on the bed. "You just stay right here," she told her as she worked on getting her shoes off. Once they were off, she cast them aside and lifted the covers, helping Regina get under them. "I'm going to clean up that mess, then I'll be back."

Emma left the room and found a broom and dustpan to sweep the broken glass into, as well as a rag to soak up the spilled wine. After five minutes or so the job was done and she returned to the bedroom. "Would you like to tell me what the hell you're doing? And where's Henry? How could you let him see you like this?"

"He'ssssssssssssnot here."

"He's not here? Then where is he, Regina?"

"Ssssssssssssssnow and Chaaaarming."

Emma rubbed her hand against her face, then pushed back her hair. At least she was smart about something. She went over to the bed and sat on the edge, looking at Regina, whose head lolled against the headboard with barely open eyes. "Regina." She took one of her hands in her own. "Why are you so drunk?"

"'Cause Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii drank a loooot," her slurred sentence, said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, was punctuated with an out of character giggle.

Emma shook her head. She may as well be talking to a five year old.

"Okay, but why were you drinking in the first place?"

Like flipping a switch, Regina went from uncharacteristically giddy to upset. "It'sssss not true looove," the 'v' in particular was heavily emphasized.

Even though her eyes were only slits, Emma could see the tears gathering in her eyes. She cupped her cheeks. "What are you talking about?" She tried to look into her eyes.

Regina turned her head away. "Usss," she answered. "We donnnn't haaave it."

"Regina, look at me."

Regina reluctantly turned her head back to face her, but her vision was so badly blurred she could only make out her silhouette.

"What is this about?"

"The hosssssssssssssspital."

Emma sighed. This again. Of course. Why should she expect any different? "Regina," she murmured gently.

Regina shook her head, tears falling. "Weee do not haaaave it!" she snapped, as much as her drunken slur would allow her.

Emma let her hands fall away from Regina's face. "You think we don't have true love."

"Not thiiiiiink. Knoooow."

"Regina!" Emma snapped right back.

Regina's head straightened up, as she seemed to sober up the tiniest bit.

"Stop this! Just stop it!" Emma shook her head, feeling her own tears prickle at the backs of her eyes. She knelt down by the bed, peering up at her. "What do I have to do?" she asked. "What do I have to do to prove it to you?" There wasn't much she hadn't done. She shared her son, she slept with her, she moved in, she constantly told her she loved her, she saved her life. What more could she possibly -

"Marry me."

Emma blinked in surprise. "What?"

"M-Marry me."

"Regina, you're drunk." Emma straightened up, sitting back down on the bed beside her.

"Soooooooo? It's – it's – it's what, what I w-want." And she gave herself over to the tears.

Emma wrapped her arms around her. "Ssh, ssh, it's alright." She held her closer and rubbed her back, wondering if she'd even remember this conversation once she slept the alcohol off.

"I w-want you –"

"I know. I know, sweetie." Emma stroked her hair. "Just calm down." She felt Regina's fingers clutch at her shirt, pulling her closer. "I'm here," she soothed. "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Okay? I'm right here with you." She kissed her cheek.

Emma held her, calmed her, murmured to her for about half an hour until Regina finally cried herself to sleep. Emma laid her down gently and fixed the blankets around her. She shook her head as she stood up. She was going to have one massive hangover. She pressed a kiss to her forehead and quietly left the room and went back down the stairs. She went to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen and poured a couple aspirin pills into her hand and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator before heading up the stairs once more. She set the pills and the bottle of water on the nightstand for Regina when she woke up. She watched her sleep for a few minutes before leaving the room to keep herself occupied until she woke up.