A/N: Just FYI, I will go back over the last chapter and proof it again - have you ever tried to write on an ageing iPad while your minibus does 80mph over potholes? Hard! Anyway, I thought I got them all but I'm gonna review when I get a chance as you know I hate mistakes!

Regina overtook Tink as soon as she saw Emma, walking straight up to the cell and reaching for the blonde's hands which were resting on the bars.

"Hey," she said after a moment of allowing her gaze to drink in the sight of the blonde once more. "How are you?"

"Better now," Emma said, the corner of her mouth quirking into a smile for the first time in hours. "How are you? What are you doing here?"

Remembering her purpose for the visit, Regina turned and beckoned Tink forward. "This is Tilly Bell. She's our family attorney. I've asked her to speak with you."

The two blondes appraised one another. Emma's experience of lawyers in the systems and then that very morning had not been entirely positive, to say the least. She was suspicious of them; seeing their profession as overpaid and under effective for people like her. Tink, on the other hand, had little experience with criminal law and had not defended someone accused of a violent crime for years. She was remembering, as she took in the group of people behind Emma, why she had made the decision to transfer into corporate law. Although, she had to admit, Emma didn't look like a dangerous criminal

"I already have a lawyer," Emma replied to eventually.

"Let me guess. Public defender, barely out of diapers, told you to plead guilty and express remorse?" Tink asked, walking forwards to stand beside Regina whose fingers were still laced with Emma's.

"Something like that," Emma muttered, looking downcast.

"You've already given a statement?"

Emma nodded. "The lawyer told me to."

"Is that bad?" Regina asked.

"Depends what Emma said," Tink replied. "Officer," she added, turning to the uniformed cop who was standing there waiting to receive instructions about Emma, "can you please let this woman out and get us a private meeting room?"

The man complied at once. Men usually did what Tink wanted. It was one of the reasons she was such a good lawyer. She flashed him a dazzling smile as she stepped back to allow him to do his job. Regina did the same, her fingers leaving Emma's at last. She watched as the blonde obediently stuck her hands through the bars so she could be cuffed. Her stomach clenched as she noticed the tinge of embarrassment on the young woman's high cheekbones.

"This way, ma'am," the officer said to Tink once he had unlocked the cell for Emma to step out and locked it again.

The two free women followed the cop and Emma down a corridor until they reached a small room. This one, unlike the others, had no two-way mirror. Nor did it have any windows to the outside world, giving it a dark and depressing vibe, even after the fluorescent strip light flickered to life. The officer deposited Emma in a chair and made to leave.

"Um, are you going to leave her cuffed?" Regina asked, eyes locked on the glinting metal around Emma's slender wrists.

The officer looked from Regina to Tink. After a moment, the latter nodded shortly and the officer returned to uncuff Emma. Once that task was complete, he left. Regina and Tink took the chairs opposite the blonde who was looking down at her lap, picking her nails, embarrassment suddenly overwhelming her.

"How are you?" Regina asked again quietly.

The blonde's shoulders rose and fell dramatically as she took a deep breath before looking up. "I'm ok." The relief and happiness and excitement and something which stirred low in the pit of her belly at the sight of Regina mere minutes before had been replaced by guilt and embarrassment and shame. Her gaze drifted to Regina's lip. She could see the sutures across the damaged flesh. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Does it hurt?" Emma asked.

"No." It was a lie. Every time Regina spoke, the skin tugged slightly on the stitches. But she didn't want the young woman, already riddled with guilt, to know that. "Tink's going to help you, Emma," Regina said, reaching across the table towards the blonde and trying to smile.

"Well, I said I'd meet with you, Emma," Tink added, joining the conversation at last. "Miss Mills doesn't actually pay my retainer so we don't want you getting your hopes up. This is just a discussion right now before I can talk with Mr and Mrs Mills."

"Your parents?" Emma asked, fingers still curled in her lap, leaving Regina's hand lonely in the middle of the table.

"Yeah," Regina nodded.

"They're not going to pay for a lawyer for the person who kidnapped their daughter," Emma said dully, gaze falling back to her knees.

"Hey," Regina said, "you didn't kidnap me."

Emma let out a bark of laughter and looked up once more. "Um, I'm pretty sure what happened yesterday was the definition of a kidnapping, Regina."

"Yes but it wasn't your idea."

"The person whose idea it was is dead," Emma reminded her. "The cops need someone to pin this on and it looks like Neal left us to take the fall."

Regina looked sideways at Tink, a silent plea for help. The lawyer hesitated for a moment and then lent forwards, elbows on the table.

"Emma," she began, "I don't think there's any merit in debating what did or didn't happen yesterday. The key is to paint a picture of why it happened. I mean, you didn't wake up one morning and decide to rob a bank and kidnap Regina, right?"

"No, of course not," Emma said firmly.

"Then why not start by telling us both a little about what happened which led up to yesterday. I don't think we could quite call them mitigating circumstances but a sob story would go a long way towards encouraging a judge to be lenient in their sentence. I assume you have a sob story?"

Despite the clenching in her gut at the phrase, Emma nodded.

"Right, so let's start with that. Tell us how someone like you got mixed up with this Neal character."

Emma glanced at Regina who offered her an encouraging smile. The blonde hated talking about her past. She hated the pitying looks she received when people found out about her childhood. She avoided talking about her past whenever she could. The idea of telling Regina Mills her history was even worse than normal. She couldn't bear to see the mixture of sadness and pity she knew she'd receive.

"Emma, we're trying to help," Tink said after several seconds of silence. "Regina asked me to come here to help you and I, against my better judgement, agreed to hear you out. She said to me that you weren't the monster I was imagining nor that the press are portraying."

"The press?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, when you commit armed robbery and kidnap a billionaire's daughter, the press tend to find that interesting," Tink said, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Anyway, as I was saying, Regina asked me to meet with you and, to be honest, I'm glad I did. I'm not going to promise you anything and lord knows we've got one hell of a conversation with Mr Mills in the future but I think Regina may be right. You're not a monster, Emma, and you don't deserve to spend the rest of your life behind bars. So, why not tell us what happened so that when Regina and I explain our actions and our thoughts to the people who, ultimately, will be paying your legal fees, we'll have that sob story to tell them, ok?"

"Only if you stop calling it a sob story," Emma said with a frown. "I don't like people feeling sorry for me."

"Oh but that's what we want," Tink grinned. "The courtroom is a stage, Emma, and we want to be tugging on the heartstrings of the judge. Can you cry on cue? No, let's discuss that later. For now, tell me and Regina everything about your life."

And so, with another shuddering breath, Emma began.

The ticking of the grandfather clock echoed through the still, quiet living room. Henry and Cora had been sitting side by side ever since Daniel had popped his head around the door to say goodbye after escorting Regina upstairs. Henry was flicking through the pages of a day-old newspaper but not taking in any of the articles. Cora was replying to the medley of messages and emails she had received from concerned friends and family members in light of Regina's trauma.

"I should call Robert and Milah," Henry said after almost an hour of silence.

"And say what?" Cora asked, a hint of ice in her tone.

"I don't know," Henry said. "But we have to say something to them, right? I mean, their son is dead."

"Their son was shot holding our daughter at gunpoint," Cora replied. "He was a criminal and he was using Regina to commit his crime. He would have killed her if he needed to, Henry. Are you really sorry Neal is dead?"

"He didn't need to die, surely," Henry murmured. "I know what he did was wrong but I can't even imagine what Robert and Milah are going through right now. Neal was their son, no matter what he did."

Cora pursed her lips as she looked at her husband's earnest expression. His open, loving heart was one of the part of the man she loved the most but at times she didn't understand it. "Fine," she said eventually. "Call them."

Despite having his wife's agreement that the call needed to be made, Henry was hesitant. Cora was right. What was the correct thing to say to the parents of the a man who had been killed while holding your own daughter at gunpoint? But eventually he reached for his cell and found the number of his banker.

He stood as the cell began to connect the call, beginning to pace up and down the large living room. It was almost a minute before someone finally answered.

"Hello?"

"Milah?" Henry asked, barely recognising the quiet, dull tone of the female voice which answered.

"Yes," she replied.

"It's Henry," he offered. "Henry Mills."

"Oh, Henry, hello." The words were lifeless, as if the woman was speaking without thinking, without feeling.

"Um, how are you doing? How is Robert?"

"He's ok. He's still in the hospital. Concussion. I'm about to go and visit him."

"Please send him our best," Henry said. "And our condolences."

There was a hitch in the breath of the woman on the other end of the call. "Thank you," Milah said at last. "How is, um … how is Regina?"

It was clear the woman felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and responsibility for what her son had done. Perhaps it was justified, perhaps it wasn't. But even as a grieving mother, Milah wanted to know that the victim of her son's final act was ok.

"She's ok, thank you," Henry replied. "She's upstairs resting."

"Good," Milah said absentmindedly. "That's good."

There was a pause. Neither one of them had anything left to say. "Well, I'll let you head out to see Robert. Please send him our regards and I guess I'll be in touch soon."

"Yes," Milah replied. "Thank you. Goodbye."

"Milah," Henry said before the woman could hang up. "I'm sorry for your loss."

The sob was unmistakable. Henry felt his heart clench at the evident display of grief and sorrow. "I'm sorry too," Milah choked out after a moment. "For everything that happened, Henry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Tell Cora I'm sorry too. And Regina. I've … I've got to go."

Before Henry could say another word, the woman hung up. The man stared at his cell for a moment and then at his wife.

"Well?" Cora asked, having only heard one side of the conversation.

"I need to hug our daughter," Henry said, voice trembling with emotions.

He headed out of the room. Cora itched to follow him but wanted to give the man space. It was his friend's son who had been killed, who had held their daughter hostage. She settled back onto the couch and continued her life admin but barely a minute had gone by when he heard Henry's panicked tones calling her name. She sprang to her feet at once and raced towards the shouts.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she swung around the doorframe into Regina's bedroom to find the bed covers strewn across the room and her husband rummaging through their teenage daughter's wardrobe.

"Regina," he panted, face white as he emerged from the walk-in closet. "She's gone."

Over an hour after the blonde had begun to talk, the three of them emerged from the private room, Emma escorted by a police officer and back in her handcuffs once more. Regina said nothing as they walked through the bullpen to the holding cell. Tink was sending a text to her friend about their plans later that night. The lawyer's personal motto of work hard, play hard, wasn't going to be affected by the story she had just heard from the blonde.

As they waited for the gate to the cell to be unlocked, Emma turned to look at Regina. It was the first real time they had made eye contact since the blonde had started talking. She had stared at her twisting fingers mostly, or a cobweb which had been wafting gently in the corner of the room. Regina tried to force a smile as green eyes scanned her face, searching for a sign of what came next.

"I'll come back tomorrow," Regina murmured.

"Really?" Emma asked, sceptical. No one had ever kept their word to her in the past. She was used to being let down.

"I promise," Regina nodded, moving forwards and reaching for Emma's cuffed hands. But the blonde pulled away; she didn't want Regina to feel how cold the metal was against her skin.

"Thanks," Emma said quietly. "For bringing your lawyer here, I mean."

"I want to help," Regina said. "I want to help you get out of this."

"Yeah, well, I doubt your parents will agree."

It had been the last thing Tink had said to Emma before their meeting closed. Nothing was going to happen without the permission of Regina's parents. It was Mr and Mrs Mills who paid the lawyer's retainer, not their teenage daughter and as such Regina was not in a position to guarantee that Emma could be represented by the petite blonde. However, Tink had said, if the Mills' were in agreement, then she would take the case.

"I'll talk to them," Regina insisted. "They will understand."

"They won't," Emma replied as the metal door swung open and the office gestured for her to walk inside.

Turning, she stepped forwards but Regina's arms around her body stopped her movement. Emma froze, the brunette's grip encircling her for the second time in twenty-four hours. She wished, once again, that she could hug her back.

"Miss Mills," the officer said sharply.

Regina pulled back, reluctant but obedient. As she did so, however, her right hand slid down the length of Emma's arm to where the blonde's wrists were cuffed. She skated over the metal and down the side of the young woman's slender hand until she reached her pinkie, into which she entwined her own. A silent promise.

And then she was stepping away, the contact broken at last and Emma moved forwards into the cell. As soon as the door clanged shut, Regina felt tears spring to her eyes. She was glad Emma didn't turn around and see them but frowned at the fact that the blonde just stood on the other side of the door, staring blankly ahead.

"Regina, come on," Tink said after a moment.

Regina hesitated for a second before nodding and following the lawyer from the bullpen. It wasn't until the clacking of heels had faded completely that Emma turned around and faced the police precinct once more, her own green orbs sparkling with sadness.

The moment Regina stepped through the door from the garage into the main part of the mansion, her parents rushed towards her and engulfed her in a hug.

"Regina," her father said, his voice muffled in her hair. "Thank goodness you're ok. Where did you go?"

"Out," the brunette replied.

"Gina," her mother scolded lightly, her own face pressed into her daughter's shoulder. "You can't do that. Not now, not after what happened."

Regina said nothing and endured the hug until her parents had had their fill. When they finally stepped away, she offered them a weak smile and spread her arms wide. "I'm fine," she said softly. "See?"

"Where did you go?" Henry repeated again.

It was an inevitable conversation, Regina knew, but she had hoped to get more than a couple of feet inside the house before having it. She had managed to persuade Tink that the request had to come from Regina alone so the blonde lawyer had parted ways with the teen outside the police precinct with Regina promising to call her the moment she had spoken to her parents. And, most importantly, Regina had sworn to make sure both Mills' knew that Tink was not a part of the plan at all and had been hoodwinked (that was the word the lawyer insisted Regina use) into meeting with the girl who had kidnapped their daughter.

"I'm hungry," Regina said, realising that, for the first time since the previous afternoon, she was. "Can we get something to eat and I'll tell you?"

"Of course," Cora said. "What would you like?"

Regina shrugged. "Something cold. A salad maybe?"

Nodding at the request, Cora headed straight for the kitchen to begin instructing the idle house staff. Henry, meanwhile, steered his daughter into the living room where they had sat with Daniel and the two of them curled up on the couch together. It had been years since Regina had been held by her father in such a way. She nuzzled closer into his side, his arm around her shoulders and breathed in his familiar scent. Henry said nothing. Nor did Regina. Both were still rattled enough by the events of the day before to be content in silence in each other's company.

Cora returned soon and sat down opposite her daughter and husband. She smiled softly at the pair before turning her attention to Regina and nodding at her, a silent request for her to begin explaining where she had been. Extricating herself from her father's hug, she sat up and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"I'm sorry I went out without telling you," she began.

"We called and called when we realised you weren't here. You didn't pick up," Henry said. "We were worried sick."

"Sorry, my phone was on silent," Regina said, pulling it out of her bag. "Wow. Seventeen missed calls, Daddy?"

"You were kidnapped and held at gunpoint yesterday, Princess. I'm allowed to be a little protective. And you're not allowed to go out without telling us where you're heading. That was the rule even before yesterday. You know that."

Regina hung her head. She hated the disappointed tone in her father's voice. But she also knew that if she had told her parents of her plan, they would never have let her go.

"I'm sorry," she offered. "I wanted to do something, to talk to someone first before I spoke to you about it."

"Something? Someone? It? What are you talking about?" Henry asked.

"Look, you have to promise not to get mad, ok?" Regina said, turning sideways on the couch and folding her legs beneath her as she gazed at her father.

"Why would I be mad?" he asked. "You're safe now. Nothing else matters to me. What did you do that makes you think I'd be mad?"

Regina bit her lip and turned towards her mother. "I went to see Emma."

Both her parents frowned for a moment, confused about who their daughter was talking about. After barely a second, however, the memory of the day before at the airfield washed over them and realisation struck them in unison. Their daughter running and hugging a young, dirty, cuffed blonde woman before she was sped away by the police, arrested for the kidnapping of Regina Mills.

"NO!" they both cried, aghast.

A/N: you will hear Emma's story, I promise. But I want to reveal that as part of the court proceedings, not yet. Sorry about the short chapter. Hosting and writing don't go well together. There won't be a chapter this Wednesday either but I'll do an extra long one on Sunday for you!