So sorry this is taking so long. Life's been crazy! Here's an extra long chapter in consolation...

Chapter Four: Fear Itself

Regina smoothed down her skirt as she stepped out of the car, thanked the driver and walked – as if through a dream – through all of the security obstacles, to the room where her mother waited.

A niggling concern lingered at the back of her mind; Emma wasn't in bed when she woke that morning and when she'd kissed her girlfriend goodbye, she could swear that there were tears drying on the blonde's cheeks. Had her eyes looked a little red too? Was she still upset about their brief fallout the night before? It was hard to think. Knots dragged her stomach down and Cora consumed her head, filling it with too many memories of childhood scolding. She couldn't seem to get rid of them. Let's get this over with, then we can focus on more important things. People who deserve our time. Holding onto this thought, she nodded to the guard and allowed him to show her into the room.

It was sparce. A grey room maybe 3m by 3m, a single, metal table in the centre and chairs that were bolted to the floor. The thing that arrested her attention though was the older woman in the orange jumpsuit. Regina looked over the familiar face and noted that despite the restraints, the undignified situation and the ill-fitting clothes, the expression and posture were exactly as they'd always been – poised and ready to strike.

"Mother," she greeted the woman and slid gracefully into the empty chair. She tried to hold that gaze, but her heart hammered in her chest and she knew that she probably found her deference too quickly.

"Well, Regina. Are you happy? Does it please you, seeing your mother like this?" Cora lifted her cuffed hands and her chin. A challenge. "Defeated. Broken," she offered, though the hard look in her eyes suggested neither. "All I ever wanted for you was the security I didn't have as a child. You grew up with every privilege because of the sacrifices I made. And this is how you repay me."

So, it begins. Regina listened to the self-centred diatribe and tried to keep her expression somewhat neutral as she breathed consciously through her panic and replied, "Security? You mean locked away."

Cora's head turned sharply as if struck, her eyes closing temporarily, blocking what she didn't want to hear. "Oh, you refuse to see the benefits of the life you threw away."

Jaw clenched, the young woman rolled her eyes to the ceiling and took another measured breath. "There were no benefits for me, Mother," she told the prisoner slowly, so her words couldn't be missed. "There were plenty for you though, weren't there?"

"You would have asked for nothing," Cora continued, ignoring the accusation. Cold eyes stared into a lost story where her every carefully-contrived plan came to fruition. Every pawn in place, with her daughter married to money and complicit with her power-hungry whims. "Every luxury you can imagine would've been yours. No one would be able to tell you what to do."

"Except you," Regina noted sharply. She let the words hang between them in a rare silence. Watching with perverse satisfaction as her mother's hands twitched – ready to strike but powerless to act – she allowed her anger to wane a little. Here was that opportunity she'd been looking for: to say her piece. "Since the day I was born, you've been trying to shape me into your subordinate clone."

Cora scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

Regina straightened in her seat, her voice clear and calm. "I'm not." She leaned forward an inch, her gaze fixed on the prisoner. "You seem to think that because you didn't have the life you wanted, that I had to want that life. Well, I didn't and still don't."

Unconsciously, the older woman's body retreated the same distance. A push and pull shift that might have gone unnoticed, but which held unrealised significance. Her lips pursed and then curled mockingly. "You didn't want that life… and yet, you're in bed with a millionaire. You're a hypocrite, Regina."

The younger woman bristled. How dare she! Remembering her girlfriend, she pictured a skinny girl of eleven and how this cold-hearted monster had threatened her. She thought of the pending DNA test and wondered whether Cora had been involved too in ripping that little girl from her family when she was just a baby. "Emma is nothing like you or your 'friends'."

Cora smirked and rose again to her triumphant height. She could feel the hurt and anger in the air. Taste the vulnerability. "As usual, you're letting love blind you. She's a vagrant pretending to be something she's not."

And was she a vagrant because of your underhand dealings, Mother!? Knowing that she'd given too much away with her reaction, Regina bit her tongue and tried to remember that she needed to take her time before answering. That was easier said than done though. "Why? Because she came by her fortune honestly. Unlike you?"

Cora sneered. "You are naïve if you think there're no underhand dealings keeping her bank accounts afloat."

Shaking her head, Regina held back on all the things that made her mother wrong. Being angry never helped. It was fuel for the fire and her mother enjoyed every moment of her suffering when she refused to kow-tow to the woman's dark desires. She thought about her father's warm hugs, Daniel's gentle comfort, Henry's joy with the simplest of gifts, and Emma's passionate altruism. All things that brought meaning to life and which her mother simply couldn't fathom.

This is a waste of time. I could be home with some of those people now. I should be looking after Henry and finding out why Emma's upset. A pang of guilt clenched inside her chest. Emma. Something was wrong there and she'd been too preoccupied with this meeting to pay attention to it.

She sighed. She'd had enough. "You will never understand what it means to care for anyone but yourself, so you will never understand why I and someone like Emma can live without a constant craving for money and power." She stood as if to leave.

Mrs Mills slid sharply forward in her chair. Her handcuffs rattled through the restraining bar on the table. "Don't walk away from me, Regina," she snapped.

Though her stomach clenched at the tone of her mother's voice, Regina ignored the implied command and continued to walk towards the door. 'You can leave at any time,' she heard Emma's voice in her head, 'you've already won.' She felt the cool stability of the door handle between her fingers and palm as she paused and turned to look at the prisoner. "You're in no position to tell me what to do now, Mother. I've given you what you asked for; my time. It was my choice to be here. I owe you nothing else."

She didn't stop to listen to the spluttering rage that erupted in her wake. She ignored the fluttering panic in her chest and stepped out into the short corridor beyond, nodding to the guard as she passed.

It wasn't until she was once again being chaperoned along in the back of the car that she found headspace to think. Though the angry, panicked daughter in her mind fought for control, she had bigger concerns. Emma, what's wrong? she thought, her brow creasing in concentration. And then it hit her: the DNA test. Results were supposed to be arriving soon, but what if they already had?

Eyes closing with regret, she whispered a plaintive, "Oh, Emma," and sank into the seat to endure the ride back to her girlfriend's apartment. She hated her mother all over again but knew that giving into that feeling was a waste of energy. As evidenced by today's meeting, Cora Mills wasn't going to change. It was time to let go of any childish hopes for maternal affection or bitter desires for revenge.

The apartment was ominously quiet when Regina entered. She slipped off her shoes, hung her coat, put her bag in the closet and went in search of someone, anyone who might still be there. As she hastily scoured the kitchen, balcony and study, she remembered vaguely the mention of a trip out to the park. She knew that her visit to the prison was expected to take longer than it had, so maybe her girlfriend had decided to take Henry out for a couple of hours to keep him entertained, but something told her not to give up yet.

Sure enough, when she reached hers and Emma's bedroom and stuck her head inside, a curious sound – a sort of low, pained keening – drew her attention to the en-suite. Her heart beat a rapid rhythm, worry fuelling her panic now, not anger or fear. She reached for the handle, no hesitancy in her actions as she pulled open the door and scanned the designer lines of the fittings and décor until her gaze fell upon the figure huddled in the corner.

Regina fell to her knees and squeezed in next to Emma so she could wrap her arms around the blonde's shoulders and pull her close. She had no idea what she said or even if she said anything at all, she was just acutely aware of her lover's pain and her own desire to ease it. When the tears finally stopped and she felt the shivers from the body in her arms, Regina stood and helped her girlfriend up too.

"Let's get you into bed," she suggested gently.

Emma resisted the pull towards the door. "No." At the brunette's startled look, she softened her tone. "No, I'm ok. I just… Can we just sit in the den, crawl under a blanket and watch something mind-numbing?"

Smiling, Regina leaned in for a kiss and lingered for a moment. The den was a nice place to while away the hours watching TV. They rarely used it for just the two of them because they usually had guests to entertain and it wasn't big enough, or because Henry was already in there doing his thing. Where is he right now? she wondered. "We can do anything you like."

Noting the questions in Regina's expression, Emma took pity on her. "Henry's at the park with Ruby. She dropped by to wait for you but…" But I wasn't doing a great job of keeping my shit together and she took the kid away. Away from the fucked up parent who couldn't look after him. She pushed the thought away and looked at the floor. "They'll be back for dinner. She said she'd drop by for food on her way back."

Regina nodded. She checked her watch and was pleased to see that they had another couple of hours to themselves. She didn't know if she would manage to get her girlfriend talking before their son came home, but she was going to try. "Come on then."

Emma left the en-suite and Regina followed. The brunette's eyes lingered on her girlfriend as she left the bedroom but she stayed momentarily to gather up the duvet from the bed. When it was all balled up in her arms she reached for a pillow and added it to the pile. The second one joined the first and revealed an open letter where Emma's head usually rested.

The blonde was already slouched on the couch, flicking through a selection of much-loved movies when Regina arrived and dumped her haul. She met an amused if tired smile before arranging the blankets and pillows to their best advantage. One she propped behind her own back and slid into the seat. The duvet she tucked under her feet and around her hips before waving the other pillow to ask where her girlfriend wanted it.

Emma ended up with her head in Regina's lap and the brunette's fingers in her hair. Only when they were settled and she began to feel the tension leaking out of her body did she spot the open letter on the table and remembered where she'd temporarily hidden it.

"Is that what I think it is?" Emma asked as her muscles froze rigid again.

Regina paused a second before resuming her gentle stroking of blonde hair. "If you think it's the letter from under your pillow, then yes." She hated that she'd already ruined their down-time, but they needed this to be out in the open. "I haven't read it. I just thought you should know that I've seen it."

Not offering anything in reply, the stubborn blonde stabbed aggressively at a button on the remote and began The NeverEnding Story. It was one of the few movies from her childhood that she could recall watching without any associated painful memories. They'd watched it with Henry recently and it was still lingering in her playlist. It was no good though; despite it being one of her all-time favourites, she couldn't get lost in the fantasy. Twenty minutes into the movie, her eyes kept drifting down to the table. To that letter.

"I was nine when I first watched this." Really? That's how you start this? Emma kicked herself. She hadn't meant to say anything. Hadn't wanted to say anything.

Regina hesitated before she answered with a soft, "Yes, I think you told me."

'Suppose I best get it over with then. It was hard to stop now she'd started anyway. While sobbing into her knees in the bathroom, she'd been unable to pick one thought out of a thousand, but now they were lining up to come out. "I wanted to be Bastien. Wanted to escape into another world. Kids were always chasing me down to throw me in dumpsters… or worse." Emma's voice became whimsical, like she was speaking from the depths of her imagination. "I had a whole list of people I'd chase down if I had a luck dragon. And then… then I'd ask it to take me to my mother. My real mother. I'd tell her how I saved an entire world with her name." Green eyes fixed back on the letter. "I didn't even know her name then."

Again, the brunette held onto her answer, not wanting to jump in prematurely and break her girlfriend's flow. When the lack of further thought dragged on though, she relented. "But you do now?" she guessed.

The words came out like a prayer – a whisper of awed reverence, "Mary Margret is my mother."

"Hmm," Regina responded. She knew her girlfriend's fears on this subject already. She hadn't managed to persuade Emma to talk about them in therapy, but on the odd occasion, she'd encouraged her to voice her worries into the dark blanket of night while they sat on the balcony and cuddled. "I'm glad. I know this answer doesn't suddenly make everything easy, but I'm glad that you finally have closure on where you came from."

The blonde head tipped back so that green eyes could find brown. "You're right. I forgot about that. And I know that she wanted me… They wanted me." Her voice caught on the last word and tears rolled down her cheeks again. "What am I gonna say to them? What if they never forgive me for running away? God, Regina, they wanted to adopt me and I ran away! All this time, I could've had a real family!"

Emma rolled over in Regina's lap and buried her head further into the pillow. With little recourse but to continue stroking through princess curls and offer comforting sounds, the brunette did just that while she waited for another opening. Eventually, it came and she said the only thing she could. "Emma, you know I won't try to build up your hopes without believing that everything will be ok, but I think in this case, you really should be looking up." At a snorted sound of disbelief, she shook her head and continued. "I didn't want to dig deep into this with you before you had a definite answer. I thought it would be too cruel if it turned out that the Blanchards weren't your parents. But I'll say it now: Imagine it was Henry."

Regina's voice stopped and Emma couldn't help but push herself up to look curiously at the other woman. "What?"

"Imagine yourself in Mary Margret or David's position. Then imagine Henry in yours. When you found out that Henry was your biological son, you must have felt all sorts of conflicting things, but you didn't hesitate to take him in when he needed it. You love him, though you didn't raise him." Regina watched the blonde's thoughtful expression for a few seconds, letting her words sink in. "I think there will probably be some awkward and painful conversations with your parents in your future, but I don't for one second believe that either of them will let you go once they know the truth."

"Really?"

Regina encouraged Emma back into her lap and kissed the top of her head. "Truly."

Several minutes of contemplative quiet passed, the only sounds, an occasional sniff and the characters in the movie. "Can we fast forward to the end?" Emma asked abruptly.

Surprise crossed the brunette's features. "You don't want to watch the whole thing?"

"I do, but…"

"You want to see the happy ending?" Regina guessed.

"Stupid, huh? Happy endings are for fairy tales," Emma chastised herself.

"It's not stupid. That's what stories are for sometimes, to give us hope of a better tomorrow."

A week passed. December greeted them with a heavy flurry of snow, covering the city in a pretty blanket for all of an hour before it became a continuous path of grey slush, through which commuters trudged and muttered their complaints.

The results of the trial were back. The jury had resumed their deliberation after the holiday weekend and came to an agreement. It was time to hear the verdict. Since she didn't need to be in court for any reason and had no desire to see her mother again any time soon, Regina sat with her usual group of mismatched friends in Emma's living room. The press were out in full force, so they'd stuck to the apartment, choosing to get everyone together for a belated birthday party as an excuse to ignore the outside world. Though the results were given in court earlier that afternoon, they waited until Henry was tucked up in bed before Kathryn stood to make the announcement.

"I still can't believe you didn't tell me that I missed your birthday," Regina quietly reprimanded her girlfriend again as she squeezed onto the sofa next to her.

"Babe, you've got to give it up," Emma grumbled as she made room. There was an empty chair nearby but this, squeezing onto one seat, had become their habit of late. She really didn't mind if it meant that she could wrap her arms around her girlfriend. "I rarely remember it myself. It's not a big deal."

"Twenty-five is a milestone worth celebrating," the brunette argued. "Why didn't you tell me yours when I told you mine?" she prodded, feeling too stubborn to give up. She was still annoyed that she hadn't put the pieces of the puzzle together herself and figured it out.

When James had visited at Emma's behest to discuss the results of the DNA test and the prospect of breaking the news to their parents, the subject of birth dates came up. Regina happened to be passing by and was appalled to discover that she'd missed her girlfriend's special day just the month before. It wasn't as if the date – October 22nd – was new information either; she'd heard and seen it several times while going over her mother's crimes and trying to pin the abduction of Mary Margret and David Blanchard's baby on her.

Emma shrugged and avoided the searching gaze. "I didn't want you to be upset," she mumbled at the floor.

Regina tutted and reached for the blonde's chin so she could tilt pouting lips to meet her own. For several seconds, they lost themselves in each other, until a series of non-subtle coughs brought them back to the room. "Sorry," she said, though her satisfied smirk said otherwise.

"Keep it in your pants til we're gone, yeah?" Kathryn teased from her prime position in front of the fireplace – a natural focal point. She chuckled at the disgruntled expression on her friend's face but quickly sobered. "So, you all know that the jury came back with their verdicts today. They had a hell of a lot to deliberate about, so to have a result this quickly means one of two things: clearly innocent or clearly guilty. I'm happy to say that they decided on the latter."

Sighs of relief and whoops of triumph spread rapidly around the room. It was what they'd expected but hadn't dared to hope for. Guilty. On which charges and at what severity, Kathryn wasn't going to tell them today, but it was enough to know that Cora and Leo were going to do jail time.

"There will be appeals," Regina cautioned, wary as she always was of getting her hopes up when her mother was involved.

"There will," Kathryn agreed. "Their lawyers will keep pushing things through the court in the hopes of acquittal or at least more leniency. But at the very least, they'll both be locked away for a while. Cases like this sometimes take years, but this result will clear you of any wrong doing – not that you were on trial at all – and should give the judge grounds to review your custody request."

Emma squeezed the body in her arms lovingly. "I'm ready to sign those papers when you are," she reassured Regina. She'd had a front-seat view to the pain that the legal separation from her son had brewed in Regina. Though it now pained her to let go again, she knew that Henry belonged with his adopted mother more.

"It should be joint," Regina blurted before she could stop to think on her decision. The thought had occurred to her more than once, but she'd been reluctant to analyse it closer and with the court still denying her parental rights, she couldn't help the bitterness that came with the knowledge that Emma and Henry were legally family without her. This news finally erased the last of that stupid feeling.

"You don't want to think on that a little more, honey?" Kathryn asked her friend cautiously. She could see why Regina would jump on this path, but as a legal advisor, she needed to check.

"What are you talking about?" Emma wondered, her face a picture of confusion.

Turning to look directly into green pools, Regina sucked in a deep breath and tried again. "Joint custody," she clarified. "He's your son now too. I don't think either of us should have to give him up again. We both made that choice under duress. We both love him. No matter what happens between us, Henry has two mothers and we should have equal responsibility for him." At her girlfriend's bug-eyed expression, she faltered. "If that's what you want, of course."

Tears came again to Emma's eyes and her throat tightened so that, for several seconds, she could only offer an enthusiastic nod. "Yes," she managed to croak eventually. "I'd like that."

Emma argued back and forth with Regina and James over the following week. They were all tired. Mentally, from the overabundance of emotional decisions and crazy life-altering events, and physically from a lack of sleep and too much running around. Nerves were frayed. Christmas was just around the corner and time was running out. Or at least according to Regina and James, time was running out.

As far as Emma was concerned, this mammoth task could wait.

She sat in a dive bar several miles from home, sipping slowly at a glass of coarse whiskey with her best friend beside her. Life had never looked so good. She had lucrative work, great friends, a son, a beautiful girlfriend, a brother who idolised her and parents. Real, solid tuck-you-in-at-night parents, who looked at her sometimes like the sun shone out of her every orifice. Only, they didn't know they were her parents. And that was the problem she was trying so hard to avoid.

"You do want them to know, right? Like, you're gonna tell them eventually?" Ragnar asked as he sat his pint glass heavily on the table.

"Yeah. 'Course," Emma replied readily.

"So… why not now?" he wondered, his head tilting curiously to one side.

Emma sipped to buy time. God, this is awful. Did I really used to enjoy this? She was too pampered by quality alcohol to really appreciate rot-gut any more (if anybody could 'appreciate' rotgut for anything but its Mnemosyne-numbing effects) but she needed something to do with her hands and had no intention of buying more, so figured she should take as much time as she liked.

"Swan? I've never known you to procrastinate this much," the Viking tried again. "What's really going on?"

"I just don't think the holidays is the best time to drop an info-bomb on people," Emma snapped. "Merry Christmas everyone! Here, have a shit-tonne of repressed memories and pain. Oh, and don't forget this care-package of regret and recriminations. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll stop sobbing by New Year!"

Ragnar made a half-amused, half-exasperated sound in the back of his throat as he gulped more of his beer. "Shit Swan, you sure know how to make things messy in that head of yours."

"Thanks, buddy. Real helpful." The blonde sipped her drink, winced slightly and shook her head.

"Seriously," he continued, "where do you get this shit?"

Emma turned on her seat and fixed him with a stare. "Their baby was stolen from the hospital and they haven't seen it since, so far as they know. You don't think it's not going to fuck them up by me walking into their home and telling them that I was that baby?"

Ragnar drained his drink and sat it gently on the table, his face a picture of calm and seriousness as he faced his friend. "I think that if my kid was taken from me against my will, that every day would be a kind of torture. And no matter how much it hurt, I would want to know as soon as possible if my kid was ok. Not knowing is worse than anything they might feel when you tell them, Em."

Emma swallowed. He never called her 'Em' unless he wanted her to stop being an ass. "But what if…?"

"Nothing," he interrupted. "You're going to 'what if' yourself into trouble. There's a million what ifs for everything but so the fuck what? You know what's certain?" He waited, needing her full attention.

Feeling like a chastised kid in class, Emma forced herself to look into blue eyes. "What?" she asked sullenly.

"You're going to tangle yourself up so tight going back and forth between what ifs that you're going to be shitty company until you get it all out. Regina loves you. Henry too. But what sort of holiday are they going to have – their first one out of poverty in a long time – with you moping around?"

Emma felt her throat tighten. Tears pricked her eyes and she pushed her whiskey away, feeling nauseated all of a sudden. "I can pull it together," she argued half-heartedly.

"Maybe. But what's it going to cost you?" He gave her some time again, watching the thoughts, the fears, the painful memories passing over her expression. "No matter what happens, you know we're here for you, right?" She nodded. "Get out of your head and look at the world around you. Time ain't waiting for you, so don't you wait."

They left then and Ragnar walked her back to her car. He didn't berate or try to hammer home his points but did drag her into a crushing hug before letting her go and waving her off. She found Henry still up when she got home and breathed a sigh of relief as she joined his world of make-believe and escaped reality for a while.

"Ready for bed?" Emma asked when she returned after his bath to see if he'd managed to find his pyjamas. More and more he wanted to do everything for himself and she felt a mixture of pride at his every achievement and disappointment that he needed her less and less. She'd only known him a few short months, but he was growing so fast.

"Uh-huh," he told her as he pulled back his covers and leaped into bed.

There was much wiggling and chattering before he would lie down and try to relax. Emma had seen her girlfriend do this many times and tried to follow the same firm but calm discipline, but she couldn't seem to get it right and her tuck-in nights consequently took twice as long. She would never give this up though. Reading her son to sleep, watching his many expressions, listening to his chatter, it lifted her up. When she faltered sometimes over unfamiliar words, he loved to help her through and though it delayed them further, his patient care made her chest tight with warmth. Even when he was being a little shit and was bouncing off the walls and refusing to do anything she asked him to, she always left his room feeling happy that he was there, with her.

After Regina popped in to say her goodnights and when Henry was snoring softly, she placed their new, regular book on the nightstand, checked that the nightlight was plugged in and softly pulled his door to as she left. Down the hall, she found the living room empty. Regina had taken to sitting in the den in the evenings they had to themselves or retreating to the study if she still had work to do and Emma was relieved to have time to herself to do what she needed to do without the extra pressure of eyes watching.

Finding her phone, she made her way to the balcony and closed the door behind her. She found her brother's number, hovered for a fraction of a second over it and then tapped it with her thumb before she could overthink her decision.

*Emma,* James answered after only a couple of rings. *What's up? Everything ok?"

"Yeah, uh," she hesitated, looked back into the living room to check that she was still alone and cleared her throat. "Do you think we could do this weekend?" she blurted.

There was a pause on the other end while James tried to catch up. *You mean for…?*

"Yeah. To tell them," she clarified. "I… I know I've been an ass about it. I'm… Shit… I'm freaking out just thinking about it. But I gotta do it, right? Let's set it up before I can chicken out."

*Yeah… Yeah, ok. Let me just go check. You're sure though?" he added after a beat.

"Don't ask me that!" Emma groaned. "No, I'm sure as hell not sure about this. I should get it done though, so go check already!"

*Ok, ok,* James replied, his tone placating.

There was a series of sounds that followed, punctuating the young man's every move through his house to wherever his parents were at this time of night. Muffled voices came through the line until Emma thought she heard James' voice pleading softly with his mother. Then Mary Margret's voice was loud in Emma's ear.

*Emma, I'm so glad you called. Of course you can come over this weekend! Is it just you or are Henry and Regina coming too? Oh, I must pick up something special for lunch! Do you still like tuna?*

Emma nearly sobbed at the raw enthusiasm in her mother's tone. She managed to make some sort of noise of agreement to buy time as she breathed through her panic and found her voice again. "Um yeah, tuna's good. You don't have to go to any trouble though, you know I eat anything."

*That doesn't mean I shouldn't put in effort for you,* the woman scolded playfully. *Now, what about Regina and Henry?*

"I don't know. Probably." There was an expectant pause, prompting Emma to wrack her brain for an excuse. "She's working right now, but I'll let J know by tomorrow, if that's ok?"

*Of course, Emma. I do hope you can all come though. It'd be lovely to have your whole family here together. And just before Christmas too!*

Emma choked on her laugh and made a quick excuse to talk to James before she had to go see to her own evening jobs. When the chattering faded into the background and her brother's repentant 'sorry about that' reached her ears, she had to suppress a sob.

*Em, don't worry, ok. I know Mom's a bit much sometimes, but we can handle her.*

The sob turned into a startled laugh. "Yeah. She must run on fairy dust or something. How can anyone be that upbeat all the time?" She heard an amused sound of agreement and felt some relief that James at least knew when she needed a break. "So, Saturday."

*Saturday,* he agreed. *Take care, Sis. And don't worry, we got this.*

"Yeah. Thanks." She hung up, put her phone in her pocket and leant against the railing.

Though there were many things she would be happy to say goodbye to in this apartment, she would miss this view. Any time that the world got to be too much, she would haul her ass up here and either drown everything out with her music, knowing that she was high above all the things that clawed at her, or else she would stare out across the river and the city, absorbing the peace of being so far detached. While her mind and body were in turmoil, this was the best place to be.

She was not entirely sure how long she stood there before the balcony door opened and Regina stepped out next to her.

"Emma? What are you doing out here? It's freezing!" The brunette stepped out and reached to turn the blonde towards here before huffing her annoyance. "Get inside," she implored in a tone that said 'don't question me, it's for your own good'. She followed her girlfriend and locked the door behind her. When she moved to face the blonde, she immediately reached out to start rubbing her hands over popsicle arms. Her annoyance began to fade as her worry for Emma's physical health slowly gave ground to her worry for her girlfriend's mental health and her eyes drifted up. "Are you ok? What happened?"

Teeth chattering, Emma tried to smile. "I didn't realise I was cold 'til now. I'll have a shower and snuggle with my girlfriend and it'll all be good." She watched Regina roll her eyes and shivered a little more. "So, what're you doing this Saturday?"

Regina frowned. She knew there was something off with Emma and hoped desperately that she hadn't put so much pressure on the blonde that she'd pushed her over the edge of sanity. She was almost afraid to know the answer. "No plans, why?"

"Do you want to officially meet my parents?"

One more to go!