"Over my dead body!" The words exploded from Emma as she spat them out with such ferocity, even Regina flinched. Her eyes wild with rage, the Savior chest rose and fell with every staggered breath that she took. "There's no way in hell she's getting anywhere near Regina or our child!" Emma shouted to no one in particular and everyone at the same time.

When Henry and Zelena came home and told the women there was something they should know, Regina had a sinking feeling it wasn't good news. She could see it in Henry's green eyes, the way his shoulders rolled forward just as they always did when he was troubled with the weight of a secret. And now, here she sat, still as a statue on the sofa; her hands folded in her lap, her lips pressed together in a firm line. The whole ordeal felt oddly familiar, Emma's panic and Regina's measured composure. In a sick way, it felt almost routine, as if she wouldn't expect it any other way.

And, yet, as calm as Regina was, there was something in her rigidity that spoke volumes. At least, to those who knew her best— all of whom were in the same room as her.

"Nothing is going to happen to that baby," Zelena promised the group, mostly Regina, almost as though she'd been reading her mind. "Gothel may be strong, but there's more magic between the four of us than she has alone."

Her brow pinching slightly, Regina shook her head in confusion. "Four?"

Zelena nodded. "That lizard is going to help us. I'll make sure of it."

"Gold?" Regina said doubtfully. "If he didn't tell us about all of this himself, what makes you think he'll want to help us now?"

"He won't have a choice," Emma growled, her hands turning into tight fists; her anger so unbearable, she'd conjured a mighty blaze of fire that sent heavy smoke up the chimney.

Her arms hugging her stomach in a protective manner, Regina looked down and frowned. She'd only just gotten used to the idea of having another child, and now, her child was in danger— the very child she'd felt kick less than an hour ago. It wasn't fair. If she'd done as much good as Henry claimed she had, where was her happy ending? Why did it seem that she was still paying for her crimes?

With a clench of her jaw, Regina looked up at Emma, locking eyes with the woman for the first time since Henry broke the news. "We need a plan," Regina said.

Emma gave a jerky nod and folded her arms over her chest, as if that would comfort her somehow. "We have to tell my parents. They can help."

Regina scoffed. "Yes, because True Love always fixes everything."

"Not always," the blonde muttered. "If Gothel wants our kid, she's gonna have to go through me to get to her. And she'll have to go through my parents to get to me."

Regina tried to pretend that Emma hadn't just referred to the baby as "she" and merely turned to Zelena. "I've a few of Cora's old books. I assume the rest are in the mausoleum?"

Emma waved her hand towards the sofa table and waited for the white smoke to disappear. "Not anymore," Zelena commented with a wry smirk.

"And the text Gold gave you?" Regina asked Henry. There was no spite in her voice, none of the disappointment he'd been so afraid of, but he still shrank under the inquiry.

"In my room," the teenager mumbled.

Regina nodded slowly. She took a moment for herself, closed her eyes, and allowed herself take a deep breath in; she allowed herself to sit with it all. Everything. The last week. Emma. Henry. Their child. This new threat.

Before she could control it, Regina felt a tear fall down her cheek as she opened her eyes and looked at her family.

Her family.

The word came to her so easily, frighteningly so.

"Regina," Emma called out softly, carefully. She took a tentative step forward, and another one, and another one until she was kneeling in front of Regina. "Can you two give us a second?" Henry and Zelena nodded wordlessly before leaving the two together.

With a slight shake of her head, Regina's lips parted slowly. "None of this makes any sense," she murmured. "None of it. Gothel. Cora. My memories being erased— years of a life I can't understand." She noted the way Emma's expression faltered and before she knew it, she was apologizing. "I'm sorry," Regina said. "I didn't mean…"

"It's OK," Emma dismissed, every ounce of energy going towards maintaining an even tone. "It's a lot to handle. I just hate that I couldn't—" she cut herself off and looked away, breaking eye contract with Regina. With a deep breath, Emma turned back and held Regina's gaze as she spoke. "I meant what I said earlier: I'm in this. I swear on my life, no one is going to touch this kid. Not while I'm still alive.

That night, Regina sat awake in her bed, propped up by three pillows. The light on her nightstand illuminated the dark room. For the first time since she'd come home, Regina felt as if something were missing; there was an emptiness to the room she hadn't noticed before.

Minutes passed. Perhaps even an hour. A blue glow filled her room as moonlight slipped through her curtains. Still unable to curb her thoughts, Regina threw the blanket over her legs and planted her feet firmly on the floor. One step after the other, she shuffled towards her door and opened it just a crack, pausing briefly as she took in the silence. The rest of the house was still asleep.

Her palm pressed against the wall, Regina crept along the corridor and reached for the handle to the room next to hers. A part of her wondered if she should wait, if she should turn back and return to her room. But she was already turning the knob and before she knew it, she was standing in the doorway.

Even with the lights off, Regina could see the scattered items clearly. Their locations still fresh in her memory from the day Zelena had moved in. The crib in bits and pieces in the corner, waiting to be put together. A stack of paint samples she and Emma had collected over the course of a few weeks. The wooden changing table she thought she recognized, and now knew to be the same one from Henry's infancy.

Regina thought about the time before Henry came into her life, the days of preparation, the excitement of the unknown. She wondered what she felt before the accident— how excited she'd been for this baby, if she'd been as ecstatic as she was with Henry. She wanted to feel good about this new child, to celebrate something she'd never thought she'd have again. But she couldn't. All she felt was terror. Sadness.

It felt like a cruel tease, this baby. As she scanned the nursery, a part of her wanted to blast the items to another realm, to get rid of them before they became nothing but a bitter memory of what could have been. The happiness she should be feeling was overshadowed by a sense of dread.

"Regina?"

Pulled out from her despair, the mayor jumped in her spot at the soft voice. Quickly, she wiped away the tears that had fallen and cleared her throat. When she turned around and found the Savior standing across from her, she couldn't help let out a small scoff.

Dressed in a tank top and sweats, her hair falling over her shoulders, she leaned against the doorframe and nodded to the shadow in the corner. "I was scared to pick one out so soon," Emma revealed quietly. "I didn't want to jinx anything, you know?" A dark laugh escaped her lips as she shook her head. "We were out shopping for Henry— he keeps growing out his clothes— and we saw that one. We weren't even looking for baby stuff, but that one… it looked good. So… we went for it."

Regina inhaled slowly, unsure what to do with this new information. Every time someone brought up a memory, she felt as though they were speaking about someone else— someone she knew they wanted her to be, but someone she couldn't imagine being. Finally, she let out a sigh and said, "Maybe you were right in wanting to wait."