"It's...really good to see you too, I think." Henry's words came out with a waver. "I know you. I've missed you, I…" His voice trailed off and he paused, frowning. "I know you. Like, it's on the tip of my tongue, only...I can't remember who you are. But I'm supposed to," He added. "I do know you."

Emma's heart ached for him, and as she glanced back towards Regina she thought she must be feeling the same. The other woman was holding herself back, leaning towards him, hands wrung into the fabric of her coat as if she might reach for him if she didn't occupy them. Her eyes flickered towards Emma, meeting hers for half a second, and then she inhaled, shoulders rising visibly from the intake. Her tongue darted between her lips as she turned ever so slightly, letting the coat fall from her hands behind her. It disappeared as if it had been swallowed by the backing of the couch.

"I think it's time for some explanations," She began. "But in order to do that, I have to ask something of you. Of both of you."

"Anything," Henry spoke without hesitation. Emma turned back to him, surprised, to find that he was staring at Regina with wide eyes. There was not a trace of skepticism on his face, and Emma found herself seeing something a younger version of her son in his features, one with a rounder face and a toothy grin. The Henry from a glossy photo that was resting barely a foot away from them. A Henry that was standing atop a wooden castle, backpack tossed to the side and a story book the size of his torso tucked under his arm, the hope of a new beginning lighting his small features.

Regina broke into a smile, nerves momentarily quieted, but it fell as soon as it came. As she spoke again, she was back to wringing her hands. Emma fought the urge to take them in her own, to run a quieting thumb over her palms. "I need you to try to believe in the impossible. I need you to believe in magic."

Emma laughed.

She couldn't help it. The sound came out loud and abrupt, and both Henry and Regina were staring at her now, and she was still laughing. "Sorry," She breathed when she caught her breath. "It's just. You've been driving me crazy for weeks now. It's just, the impossible doesn't seem so impossible anymore."

"Yes, well." Regina's lips had quirked upward, and she was regarding Emma with something like familiar affection. "And you, Henry?" Her voice dropped to a whisper.

There was a pause this time as he considered. Eventually he settled, eyes locked with Regina's, and said "I believe in you."

Oh, without a doubt, he was Regina's son.

It hit Emma suddenly - the thrust of his chin, the stern set of his jaw that were all Regina's. Those brown eyes had come from Neal, but they might as well have been from Regina with the way they crinkled when he was sad, the way they lit up with every smile. The definitive, matter-of-fact way he had of speaking sometimes. That was all Regina. Emma didn't know why she hadn't realized it sooner, that none of those traits had been a product of her own parenting.

"You always did," Regina replied, and even from across the room Emma could see the tears that were brimming in her dark eyes. She quickly wiped them away with one hand. "I suppose that's more than I can ask for."

There was a moment where silence reigned, until Henry broke it.

"You said there were going to be some explanations, so? How about them?"

Okay, that part was all Emma. Judging by the way Regina scowled - affectionate, and traced with amusement, but a scowl nonetheless - she agreed.

"I'm sorry. I don't know where to start." She looked at Emma as if for help, and then her face fell a fraction, as if she was remembering that wasn't going to work. As if she'd looked to Emma for help before and had come to rely on it. She took a breath and closed the distance between herself and Henry. She reached out to lift his chin, but her fingers passed through his skin without making contact and she retracted her hand. "It's so...complicated." She shook her head. "I'm your mother, Henry."

There it was.

Emma had known it in her heart since she witnessed Regina staring after him in the coffee shop, though she hadn't been able to admit it - hadn't even been able to admit the other woman's existence at that point.

Henry's brow knitted, and the child was gone, and Emma saw in him a young man, wise beyond his years. But he didn't step back, didn't put space between them. Instead he tilted his head, meeting Regina's gaze evenly. "You're my mother," He repeated. It wasn't a question, not really, though he glanced between Emma and Regina for a moment. Emma gave him a small, reassuring nod. She had no proof - no way of really knowing - but she knew , and she hoped that would be enough for Henry like it was enough for her. "How is that possible?"

Regina gave him a soft, sad smile. "Things didn't happen quite as you remember them. Your life here...isn't where you're supposed to be. It isn't where you belong." She drew a deep breath inward, stepping back so she could address Emma and Henry both. "You grew up in a town called Storybrooke, Maine. That was where you were raised. It was our home, until about three months ago. I did what I had to to protect my family. It's complicated to explain, but in order to save everyone, it had to be destroyed, and you couldn't be allowed to remember. We weren't meant to see each other again," She laughed, though the sound was hollow. "I just...didn't know it would be this hard. I thought that the knowledge that you were happy - that both of you were happy -" She added, glancing back at Emma - "Would be enough to keep me going. But it wasn't."

There was a moment of silence before Regina turned back towards Henry. She was wringing her hands again. "You don't have your storybook here, do you?" It was more of a statement than a question, and Henry's blank stare seemed enough of an answer for her because she shook her head. "That's why Mary Margaret thought it would be a good idea to include the photos. Something to make you believe." She shook her head. "It wasn't her plan that Emma would find them first."

"You're saying you put them here?" Emma asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes." She shrugged. "I let your mother pick them out. Except the one in my kitchen with...with the wine," She finished. "That night was important to me." She met Emma's eyes expectantly, a tiny flash of disappointment making its way to the surface when Emma didn't understand. But she didn't elaborate. "I figured Henry would show them to you at some point and maybe that one would...jog some memories. But I guess not."

Emma spoke up before she could talk herself out of it. "I've had flashes. Of memories."

Regina didn't quite look surprised. Instead, her lips quirked up at the corners. "I thought you might have."

Emma felt her cheeks heat up.

"If you've been able to remember some parts of your life before, there's a chance that things aren't buried too deep. Maybe I can…" Regina crossed the space between them. Emma's breath hitched in her throat as the other woman saddled up beside her, though she knew from her attempt to touch Henry's chin that they couldn't interact physically. Still, the proximity made her dizzy, only more so when Regina let a hand float up above Emma's forehead. "Do you trust me?" She asked, dark eyes meeting the blonde's gaze head on.

Emma could only nod. She did, she realized with a start - this woman who had haunted both her waking hours and her dreams, and shown up in her apartment speaking of magic and impossibilities - Emma trusted her.

Regina gave her a soft smile, and then purple light poured out of her palm, enveloping Emma's vision.

"If you keep making that face it'll stay that way," Emma warned, pulling out her phone and snapping a picture. She made a mental note to send it to Mary Margaret, who was sure to immortalize the moment in a framed photo. It was a good picture really - Henry and Regina, more relaxed than either had been in ages.

Henry only laughed. He'd been crossing his eyes, tongue poking out, and making strange noises at his mothers. He rolled his eyes dramatically before taking a sip of his soda. "Please, ma, I'm thirteen. I'm way too old to believe that."

"Mm," Regina smiled. "You believed it when you were younger. You used to be able to roll one eye back in your head. I had you convinced it would stick that way. You had nightmares about never being able to see out of one side again."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I was like, five."

"And now you're a clever young man who could never be fooled like that," Emma finished for him, earning a thwack to her arm. She laughed, taking another sip of her wine. Her cheeks were already warm - this was her, what, third glass? Something like that.

"Alright. Time for bed." Regina's voice was firm, though there was warmth in her eyes, more than Emma had seen during the entire time she'd known the former queen. Henry began to protest, but she added a firm now, and he obeyed.

"Goodnight, mom. Goodnight, ma." He gave them each a tight squeeze before trekking up the stairs.

"Don't you need to, like, tuck him in or something? Make sure he's actually gone to bed?" Emma questioned, staring after the entryway where their son had disappeared. She half expected to see Henry creeping down the steps, sneaking out the front door to do god knows what. He was a mischievous child, after all. She'd learned that firsthand - hell, she'd encouraged it.

Regina caught the way she was eyeing the door. "Please. When he sneaks out he goes through the window in his bedroom and climbs down the tree out front. Really, you're a terrible detective, Miss Swan." Regina cocked an eyebrow, finishing off the wine in her glass in one swig. Her eyes fell onto her glass, where her fingers were tracing tiny patterns in the slight condensation. "Besides, he hasn't snuck out in a long time."

Silence stretched between them for several moments before Emma shrugged, stepping back from the counter. "Well, I suppose if Henry's going to bed then I should be going."

She began to turn, but her breath caught in her throat as Regina reached out to catch her hand.

"Wait." The brunette's fingers traced over Emma's, thumb brushing lightly against the back of her hand. She laced her fingers with Emma's, however briefly, before pulling away and reaching for the bottle of wine. She refilled Emma's glass with the dark liquid, pouring heavily enough that it appeared black, and pushed it towards the blonde. "Stay for awhile?"

Emma nodded, swallowing against the sudden dryness of her throat. She took the glass, downing a healthy amount of the liquid. "Sure."

A little while later, and they had fallen into easy conversation. Regina's hand rested on Emma's arm and she was acutely aware of the contact. She wasn't sure when the brunette had made her way around the counter, but now she sat in the bar stool beside Emma, her legs turned towards the blonde, their knees brushing as she spun slightly in her seat. Regina's tongue darted out to wet her lips and Emma's gaze tracked the movement. Before she knew it Regina had leaned forward and pressed her lips to her own, one hand cupping her cheek. When she pulled away Emma only stared at her, shocked, and Regina started back, eyes darting to her hands.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what that was, I just - I thought -"

Emma reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind the brunette's ear and she looked up again, a tiny flicker of hope in her eyes.

"No, I liked it." Emma leaned forward, brushing their lips together in a light movement that sent a shudder through her spine. "I'm just surprised, that's all. I didn't think…I thought this," She said, gesturing between them, "Was all one-sided. Or else I would have made a move long ago."

This earned her a laugh, and Regina wrapped one arm around her neck, pulling her in, the other hand finding Emma's waist as she kissed her again, this time deeper, more desperate. And then Regina slipped from her bar stool, pulling Emma from her perch and walking her back towards the couch.

"Well then," Regina murmured between kisses, "Let's make up for lost time."

"Nothing will be left behind, including your memories." Regina's voice caught on the last word, but she held Emma's gaze steadily. She took the blonde's hand in her own, squeezing hard. "My gift to you is good memories. A good life for you and Henry. You'll have never given him up. You'll have always been together."

"You would do that?"
Regina let her eyes flutter closed for a moment. When she opened them again they displayed more raw emotion than Emma had seen from her. "When I stop Pan's curse, and you cross that town line, you will have the life you always wanted."

Emma swallowed. It may have been the life she'd wanted when she'd first arrived in Storybrooke, when she and Regina had been enemies, fighting over every little thing - but it was hardly the life she wanted now. She couldn't bring herself to express that though, so instead she pointed out, "But it won't be real." What was real was the time they'd spent fighting.

Regina framing her for some petty crime, Emma cutting a branch off her tree. The way Regina had looked at her then - the way her eyes had searched Emma's, heady and breathless, desperate for the challenge Emma presented. Emma pushing Regina into the storage closet of the hospital. Working together to find him a cure, to find a way into Neverland, to save him.

Fighting together. Fighting for their son. And then fighting for whatever had been growing between them, taking root in the thinnest of soil -

"Your past won't, but your future will. This is the end, Emma," she added, wrapping an arm around Henry's shoulders and pulling him close. "The price of this curse is the thing I love most. I can never see you again," she explained, eyes darting between them. Anyone behind them wouldn't have caught it, would have thought she was speaking only of her son, but her gaze alternated between the two. The tiny family she had created, against all odds.

Regina pulled Henry into another tight embrace, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Emma's gaze was locked on Regina the entire time. "Make happy memories. Maybe," she added, voice catching in her throat, "maybe even better ones. Do that for me."

Words that Emma wanted to say rested at the tip of her tongue. I love you and wait please don't go and I'll find you — they all pressed at her lips, begging to be spoken, but she couldn't bring herself to let them into the light of day. Everything they'd shared, everything of real weight had been whispered between them under the cover of darkness, with blankets wrapped around their shoulders to protect them from the brunt of it. And now this was her last chance, and the sun was glistening off the snow at the side of the road, so bright, and her whole family was lined up behind her bug, watching their conversation. Henry flashed her an expectant look, eyes urging her to speak —

Regina gave her hand one last tight squeeze— she was still holding it, even with Henry wrapped in her arms, surely somebody had seen, though did that even matter at this point? — and Emma tried to ignore the way her features slumped at her silence. Her dark eyes had spoken a silent I love you before she ducked away, allowing Emma's parents to take her place and say their goodbyes. Regret clutched at her chest as she let herself sink into her mother's arms. So much left unspoken, so many possibilities left unexplored.

She nearly caught Regina's wrist, pulled her back, let her know -

But then Regina was taking the curse in her hands, tearing the parchment from its roll and magic was flowing over her skin and it didn't seem right to interrupt, not when this was such a significant moment for her, not when this was full circle for her revenge. Not for some romance that hadn't even been a real romance.

Emma kept her eyes locked on the rearview mirror of her bug as they drove away. Regina stood with her back to them, purple light streaming from her palms. She never turned, not even when the last of the green clouds had been stained violet, and the bug barreled over the town line.

Lavender smoke surrounded them, cool on her skin. Sparks were still streaming from her palms. They hummed with the familiar magic of the curse as the light receded into her skin. The smoke began to dissipate, revealing densely packed trees marching into the distance with no end in sight.

The Enchanted Forest.

They were home.

She crumpled to the ground, uncaring of the grass stains she was surely grinding into her dress. Sobs tore out of her throat, racking through her chest. Her corset dug into her ribs with each breath, and hot tears streamed down her face. She was vaguely aware of Snow on one side of her, and David on the other, arms wrapped around her and trying to pull her from the ground. But she didn't care. She sunk into the pain, letting it overtake her.

She'd never see them again. Either of them.

She cried herself out until the tears stopped coming, until every breath hitched in her sore throat.

"I know. I know, Regina. Come on. It's time to go." The voice in her ear - David. She felt his arms underneath her own again, and this time she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

Ruby was staring at her, something akin to pity in her eyes, and rage brewed in her chest - she was a Queen, damn it. A wave of her wrist and her makeup was restored, all evidence of her breakdown disappeared. But still, the ache in her heart -

Henry's hands were gripping her shoulders, shaking her lightly while he called to her.

"Mom? Mom, are you okay?"

She glanced over his shoulder to Regina, who was regarding her with equal concern.

"Our first kiss." Emma breathed."The wine, that was our first kiss." She shook her head, closing her eyes and trying to center herself. She was back in her apartment, in New York, and - "I saw us at the town line," She blurted out. "You gave us new memories, and then...then I wasn't there anymore. I was at the edge of a forest, and I was wearing this dress, and-" Her eyes found Regina's once more, and she tilted her head. "I don't think that last part was me, was it?"