Henry Mills only had two living, blood relatives and they were both standing at the foot of his bed. Regina hadn't moved a muscle in the time that Emma had gone to fetch the aging man, and Mr. Gold couldn't bring himself to get any closer to the boy than he was right then. It'd been less than an hour since Emma broke the news, and less than half an hour since Mr. Gold had been introduced to the comatose Henry. As soon as he'd crossed the threshold, though, Mr. Gold could've sworn that he felt Neal's presence. It was as though his son were right there next to him, begging him not to screw up this moment.

By the time they'd arrived, Emma and Gold had just narrowly missed the storm that waged on and attacked the ill-prepared city. Loud, violent raindrops splattered against the windows and echoed through the tiled floors, much like stones being tossed against glass. The fog had vaporized, but the skies turned a gloomy blue and gray and the air became moist and thick. Soon, heavy gusts of wind picked up and sent the water spraying every which way.

Regina and Mr. Gold had met only once before and for a mere five seconds. The brunette had dropped off something for Emma, and in passing had crossed paths with the infamous Mr. Gold. Neither of them had said anything to one another, but immediately, Regina had a strong dislike for him. Now, however, Regina felt nothing towards Gold, not even dislike. He was there for Henry, not her. And he had a right to be there. He was, after all, Henry's grandfather.

For 15 minutes, the only sounds that filled the room were the beeping from Henry's heart monitor and the rhythmic whooshing from the breathing machine. The three adults listened as the gadgets took turns announcing Henry's slow, but steady rhythms. Every time there was a pause or a break, the adults sucked in a breath.

"He looks like Neal," Mr. Gold said after finally relocating his voice. His throat felt as if he'd swallowed a box of nails and his tongue was dry. "Tell me everything," he demanded through gritted teeth.

Regina tensed up, knowing instantly what Gold was referring to. She'd heard the story in it's entirety only twice before. The first time, Emma had broken down in tears at the very end, only after having held them in for the duration of the tale. The second time, Regina was sitting next to Emma as the blonde explained her decision to Mary Margaret and David. Neither of those experiences had been particularly pleasant and Regina could already sense this one would be just as bad.

Watching her son's chest rise and fall, Emma was fully aware that he could hear her. And she knew it was high time he heard the truth, even if he wasn't awake. "I met him when I was seventeen. We were both… going through some stuff. I was looking for an escape; he was looking for a home. We just needed someone who understood, who felt what we felt." Her eyes shifted to Regina nervously, as she was ashamed that "someone" hadn't been the brunette. "We both had so much anger and… hurt." Shaking her head, Emma pushed away the bad memories and tried to focus on the good ones. "I was trying to hot wire this car. Neal—" she swallowed loudly, "he was in the backseat. He'd found it first, but he let me think I had it." As she thought back to their first interaction, Emma couldn't help but smile at the memory. "For as much as he'd gone through, he wasn't bitter or pissed off— not the way I was. I took it it out on everyone, but he managed to hold his in. I never understood how he did it since he had more to be pissed off about," she added without looking at Gold. "Anyway, we… we fell for each other. We were going straight, following the all the rules, being on our best behavior. We bought a place close to the city and then…" Emma drifted off distractedly, her gaze landing on Henry.

"And then?" Gold grunted. "What?"

"Then," the blonde sighed, "I got pregnant. Neal— God, his face. He was so excited; he started jumping up and down like a kid."

Waving a hand dismissively, Mr. Gold closed his eyes. "Spare me the details. What happened?"

As if someone had just shoved a dagger through her chest, Emma was back in the car on that tragic evening. She was watching it all happen again as she retold it to Gold; she could feel Neal's body heat next to her, see the path that the headlights had illuminated. She was there again, doomed to repeat it. "There was an accident," she murmured. "It was— it was hard to see. The roads… they…" Emma waited until the pain in her chest subsided before continuing. "Neal died in the crash," she said flatly. "He died on impact."

The room went silent. Gold had gone rigid. His hands had turned into fists, his lips were pressed in a hard line, and his bad leg was threatening to give out on him. He kept replaying the last conversation he'd had with his son; he heard it over and over again in his head and he could see Neal's eyes— filled with agony and rage. But, before he could hear his own voice utter the last sentence he'd ever say to Neal, Gold was back in the hospital room, across from his only grandchild. "What now?" he asked quietly.

Having brushed away the tears that had escaped, Emma shrugged helplessly and glanced over at Regina. In that moment, it was as though they were finally on the same page. "Now we wait."


Gold left the hospital not long after, but not without warning the women that he'd be back the next day. It wasn't so much as a warning, but a statement that incited a tiny bit of apprehension and a whole-lot-of anxiety. However, neither of them argued with the man.

In a bid to clear her mind, Regina offered to get her and Emma coffee from the cafe. She utterly detested the brew at the hospital, but if it kept her awake and alert, then there wasn't much she could do about it. Emma, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind it. In fact, she found that she preferred Tommy's Cup 'O Joe to Starbucks. Anyways, it was all they had access to over the last few weeks.

When Regina returned with two black coffees, Emma was standing in front of the window, watching as bolts of lightning struck. Several clashes of thunder rumbled through the skies and Emma felt the floor beneath her shudder in response. She accepted her drink without turning her around completely to face Regina. "I don't know how to fix this," she muttered. "I know what you said and deep down I know you're right, but that doesn't change how I feel." Taking one step to her left, Emma stopped when Regina was in her peripheral vision. "I made a mess 11 years ago and I've been paying for it every day since then. The look on Gold's face today when he found out about Neal— I never wanted to see that. I never wanted him to find out, not like this. I just…" Resisting the urge to toss the beverage onto the floor, Emma licked her lips and said, "I don't know how to fix this, Regina." Taking a chance and tearing her gaze away from the floor, she looked over at the woman beside her son and spoke only to her. "I don't know how to fix us."

Regina had been dreading this moment all day— the moment when they apologized for their actions and tried to seem as though they weren't hurt even though they both knew they were dying inside. She hadn't planned a speech, let alone to say anything at all. Regina didn't even know if she wanted to. She was so angry at Emma, so infuriated by the blonde's inability to face her problems head on. Regina didn't want to blame Emma; sometimes she just couldn't help it. But, when she stroked Henry's hair and listened to the beating of his heart, a part of her forgave Emma— even though she didn't want to.

Doing her best to stay calm, Regina jutted out her chin slightly and brushed Henry's bangs out of his eyes. "You want to fix this?" she probed. "Take a seat, be with our son, and be his other mother."

"What?" Emma choked.

"Unless your hearing has disappeared in the last few hours, I assume you heard me correctly," Regina said in that voice that always gave Emma chills. "Now, do I really need to repeat myself?"

Stumbling over her feet, Emma raced to be at their son's side. She reached for Henry's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, hoping to whatever God existed that he could feel her presence. She'd done this so many times before: held Henry's hand while he slept. But this was different, of course. This time, Henry wasn't just a dozing pre-teen, but a patient battling an illness she still couldn't say. And Emma wasn't with him as his aunt, but as his other mother. "Thank you," she whispered over to Regina, all the while never taking her eyes off of Henry.

Drained from their roller coaster of a day, Regina had just enough energy to say, "I could have done more. It isn't all on you." Nodding to herself, she said, "After I left home I could've been more— It's not all on you, Emma. I could have found you."


Emma and Regina woke up to an incessant beeping coming from Henry's machines. It was three o'clock in the morning and they'd fallen asleep sometime around one, both with their heads resting on Henry's bed. When the noise started, their systems were given a jolt and they made eye-contact across the boy's torso. Red lights flashed on and off as the women frantically shouted for help, both terrified to leave his side.

In a matter of seconds, an entire team had filled the room and the scent of alcohol gel and latex gloves polluted the area. Soon, there was a sea of blue scrubs hovering over a single child. One man came sprinting in pushing a crash cart.

"Starting compressions!" someone shouted above the five or six other voices.

"Someone page Dr. Whale! Tell her it's a code blue! Now!" another person ordered.

"What's wrong with him?!" Emma demanded. She and Regina had been pushed towards the door, unable to see what they were doing to Henry. She attempted to shove her way through, but there were too many people. Henry was hidden beneath the medical staff. "What the hell's going on?!"

"Henry?!" Regina cried. She tried to get close, but a woman several inches shorter than her blocked her way. "What are you doing to my son?!"

"I'm sorry, but you have to stay here," the nurse instructed. "They need room to work."

"Charge to 300!" a man yelled, the same man who'd brought the paddles. "Clear!" Regina and Emma heard a loud zap and both flinched when he said, "Again! Clear!" Everyone's hands flew up into the air in order to avoid being shocked as well.

Horrified and frustrated, Regina spun around and fell into Emma's arms. The blonde wrapped her friend in a tight hold, just like she used to when they were younger; she could feel Regina shaking and sobbing into her shoulder. "Someone tell us what the fuck is happening!" Emma snarled. But no one— not a single one of the nurses or interns or whatever the hell they were— answered her. She and Regina were stuck. They were powerless as the boy they'd give their lives to protect was slowing losing his.


A/N - Hey! Here's a much overdue update for you all! Wild ride, huh? This may seem harsh right now, but the end is gonna be a happy one for sure! I'm sorry it's been so long. Today was the last day of finals/the semester, so I wanted to celebrate with a new chapter! I'm hoping to update "Fool for You" this week as well, but I can't make any promises. If not in the next couple of days, then very soon! I hope you enjoyed this! Until next time!