David blinked open his eyes slowly, awareness of anything other than the fact that he was alone in their bed escaped him. He felt heavy, a weight cloying and dark within his chest. He felt as though he hadn't breathed properly for some time now.

He missed his wife, missed laying with her at night, talking to her, planning Neal's future and gushing over every little thing he did. He missed his daughter, missed her sarcasm and her quick wit. He missed watching her when she didn't know, missed beaming with pride when she did something as small and unimportant as make herself a bowl of cereal in the morning because she didn't understand how truly brilliant she was. She'd practically raised herself and though an ache still flared up whenever he thought of all of the things they'd missed together, he was so in awe of the woman she'd become all on her own despite all that she'd had to live through.

He missed his grandson, missed waking him up in the mornings with the promise of a day filled with adventure, a day of learning new skills that he couldn't gain in school. They'd planned to begin his sword fighting lessons soon - with both Regina and Emma's permission of course - and he'd been as excited as Henry to start them, to pass down his own nuggets of wisdom and now the boy wouldn't come within a one mile radius of the apartment.

To top it all off, he even missed Regina. He missed the mornings she'd come sweeping into their home, a plan already formulated and set in place using that brilliant - and terrifying - mind of hers whenever a problem arose. He missed their verbal sparring and the little smirks he'd find curling her lips whenever she'd best him or he her. He missed watching her fall in love, missed uncovering those little pieces of her that explained why Snow had kept him from killing her so long ago.

Everything was different now, everything had changed and this time, he wasn't sure how they were going to fix it.


Snow was in the kitchen when he finally pulled himself up and out of bed, ready and waiting for him with a smile and a cup of coffee - black, one sugar - that he took gratefully from her hands, leaning down to press a loving kiss to her temple as he passed her to stand on her other side. "Neal still down?"

She nodded with a chuckle of relief, "thank goodness," before continuing "I hope this means he's growing out of his early morning screaming."

He let out a breath of laughter as he took a sip from his mug, his free hand moving to rest on the base of her back, rubbing soothingly as they simply sipped at their drinks and breathed together. It was nice, in the silence of a house usually filled with so much life and chaos.

"I don't think Emma came home last night," Snow commented lightly though he could hear the sorrow there, his hand moved in larger passes over the expanse of her back, soothing now instead of just touching as his wife began to shudder with the cries he thinks she's been holding in for this past week. He moves slowly, places his cup down, takes her own from her hand and turns her before folding her into his embrace with his chin resting atop her head whilst her wet cheek pressed against his pajama top over his chest. "What if she doesn't ever come home again?"

"She will," he whispered, holding her tight to him, a lump forming in his throat at the very idea but he had to be the stronger one here and so he pulled forth all of the faith that he had - something he learned to do from the very woman in his arms - and told her "she will, sweetheart. Just give her some time, it's been hard on us all."

She nodded into him, her hands grabbing fistfulls of his t-shirt, grounding herself as best she could. "I know," she admitted, "I know, I know it has." but when he prompted her to further explain the tears he knew were not only for their daughter - he'd always been able to read her so well - she confessed "I think my father is dying" on a choked sob that meant she could only manage the "again" on a forced whisper.

He furrowed his brow pulling back enough to take her face between his hands and ask "why do you think such a thing?"

She shook her head in his hold, eyes closing and releasing more tears that he quickly wiped with his thumbs before she told him "he's fading, David. Every single day he's been here I've watched him grow paler and frailer. He's not supposed to be here, not in this time...not in any time."

He understood her logic and had noticed Leopold's changing appearance himself and though he didn't want to upset her further, he wouldn't give her false hope when his gut told him that Snow's theory was correct. He pulled her back into him, taking her weight when her legs buckled with the force of her sorry and pressing kisses into her hair before whispering "perhaps you should speak with Regina."

He received no reply from Snow but he knew she'd heard and so he would allow her the morning to collect both her thoughts and her emotions before bringing forth the matter again.


"I wouldn't have taken you for a cuddler, love" was the first thing he whispered when emerald eyes blinked open, crusted with sleep after so long of being asleep. He'd wanted to wake her earlier when he himself had woken but she'd looked so peaceful finally that he hadn't had the heart to do so.

It took her drowsy mind a moment to process his words, her brow furrowing as she waited for full awareness to come back to her before she was asking "what time is it?"

"Judging by the height of the sun," he commented as he looked past her to the round window on the side of his ship, "I'd say it to be no later than 9."

She shifted back a little at that, her frown growing more pronounced. "In the morning!?" she exclaimed incredulously.

He nodded, still smiling easily at her with his face only inches from her own on the pillow they were sharing, "seems you were more tired than you allowed yourself to believe." and when she still looked unbelievably confused at their whereabouts, he told her "I believe we may have fallen asleep in our seats at the diner and our dear Queen decided to help us home."

"Regina?"

"Well," he chuckled, "unless you know another, I believe your assumption to be correct."

She tapped at his arm lightly before snuggling in closer and smiling when she felt his arms wrap around her once more, holding her in place. She breathed him in for a long moment, feeling more rested than she had for a while and concluded, rather sadly, "I think I need to find my own place."

Killian held her closer as he replied "I think you might be right, love."


"You seem tired," Regina commented softly, eyes tracing features that once used to fill her with so much hatred, with a burning anger that, at times, had frightened her yet now only had her wanting for more simpler things. She'd been relieved when Snow had not only accepted her invitation for a meeting at Granny's but that she'd felt no old desires to harm the woman flaring up within her the moment Snow had stepped through the door and locked gazes with her for the first time since she'd asked her to leave the mansion.

Snow smiled, nodding gently as she replied "a one week old does not a happy mother make," and, as though only just remembering, she added on "but I'm sure you can remember."

The brunette chuckled fondly at the memory of her own little boy, older than what Neal is now but not by too much. "I thought I was going to lose my mind the first week I had him," she confessed before widening her eyes and looking pointedly at the woman sipping tea opposite her, "and to top it all off it was looking as though he liked you better."

"Ah," Snow agreed before arguing "but after that the two of you were practically inseparable. Baby carriers in the office, a high chair ready and awaiting him whenever you brought him here," and both women found themselves wondering if it was, perhaps, still here, tucked away in the back of one of Granny's store rooms. "What changed?"

Regina smiled, eyes distant as she replied "I asked him to give me a chance," and finishing with a shrug "and he did." before she was taking a sip of her coffee, dark eyes still on Snow's.

"I'd rather like to ask the same thing myself," the younger brunette began tentatively with palms curled around the warm ceramic of her tea cup, "but of you, Regina." and before her former step-mother could reply, she continued "it was wrong of me to ask you to meet with my father," she winced at the way Regina cringed, her eyes flashing with a darkness she'd hadn't seen there for some time, "especially so soon after his return. I was insensitive and foolish and I wasn't thinking."

"No, you weren't."

"I wasn't and for that I am so sorry," she willed the brunette to understand, to recognise the desperate plea in her voice, "I don't want to lose what we've been working so hard to build between us, the distance we've covered - you're too important to me." and when Regina remained silent, listening but not replying, she reached forward slowly, giving the woman enough time to move should she want and infinitely grateful when she didn't, and covered the back of her hand with her own. "I've known you for longer than I've known anyone in my life, Regina and though once I wanted nothing more than you out of it, now I couldn't imagine not having you there and this past week…" her head tilted as her expression grew sad, "I feel as though that's a very real possibility."

Her head shook the moment the words left Snow's mouth, her eyes closing as she turned her hand over on the table to allow the former princess' hand to fill it as she promised her "it's not," and explaining "it's the very reason I asked to meet with you today...to mend this rift." And it was Regina's turn then as she began "I could never be a mother to you Snow, not then. I was barely a young woman, thrust into a life I didn't want and given no time to mourn the love I'd lost. It was easier for me to place the blame upon you rather than accept that my mother truly did not love me as I had suspected for all of those years." She shook her head, eyes full of regret as she confessed "I wanted to love you, I did for a time. I thought I could push past it, turn my rage into love like Daniel would have wanted me to but it was just too hard. It was too hard to separate you from..." she swallowed thickly, "from the actions of your father." there was no apology but merely sympathy in her eyes when she found Snow to be crying with her, struggling with the realities of a life she hadn't really known, "he was hurting me whilst you were simply trying to love me and I am sorry for pushing you away. I'm sorry."

It was Snow's turn to shake her head then as she replied "I'm sorry for not seeing your pain, for not understanding that you were hurting."

"You were just a child, Sno-"

"And so were you," the brunette cut her off, fingers tightening around Regina's hand as she acknowledged with anguish coloring her usually bright eyes "so were you."