This chapter doesn't quite touch on gender identity the way the next one will, but it's sprinkled in near the end. Okay, so obviously, this is going in a specific direction with Emma's character. The pronouns won't change until they change "in the story," so I hope you all know what I mean by that. This was a tricky chapter to write, but I'm not upset with how it came together.

Killian paused when he saw the cruiser in front of Rory's old hardware store. The place had been closed down for months after Rory passed, and the former blacksmith didn't have a family to leave his business. So there the building sat, empty, and Killian walked by it every day on his way to and from the warehouse. Seeing Emma was a break in his routine, but whether it was a good thing or not had yet to be discovered. Killian hopped off the path and walked toward her. The Sheriff sat on the hood sideways, her feet dangling over the driver's side tire, and she seemed lost in thought.

"Swan?" he said. "What's got you on this side of town?"

Emma glanced up with a tired smile and said, "Came to pick you up. I figured you'd want a ride instead of the walk today."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know. But you seem…off."

"Just been a long day."

"It's only three p.m.," he said slowly. "And aren't you supposed to be off today?"

Emma's eye twitched, and she rubbed it, saying, "Yeah, but I fired Neal and suspended David. So it's just me until I can find a replacement."

Killian could see there was more to it than that, so he stopped beside her and leaned against the door.

"Spill," he said.

"There's nothing to spill," she grumbled.

"It's just me," he said. "What's going on? Do you want to talk about it?"

Emma's face twisted to keep from crying, and she cleared her throat. "Snow caught up with me at the station after I came back from the boundary, and I was not-so-gently reminded that I shouldn't punish David for doing the right thing. I was implored to re-hire him and Neal for the sake of keeping the peace in our family. And also for Henry's sake, who needs stability in his life. I told her no, and we got into it. She ended the conversation by saying how disappointed she was in me." Emma's voice cracked, and she let out a humorless laugh. "I told her that wasn't the first time a parent said that to me, and I doubt it would be the last. So I left, and I was going to the mansion before I realized it. And it felt wrong to try and come over while they were, you know, catching up." She stopped as her lip quivered, and she lost the battle with her tears. "I didn't have anywhere else to go," she said, sniffing and wiping at her face.

Killian geared himself up for a response, but it seemed that Emma wasn't done.

"And I feel like no matter what I do, someone's always going to find something wrong with me. My hair is too blonde or too long, my eyes are too green or too narrow, I'm too skinny, or I'm too muscular. I'm not smart enough or I'm too smart. I'm not good enough or I'm too impulsive. I'm always too much of something, but I'm never…enough. Being me is never enough, and it hurts. It hurts so fucking much that I'm still fighting to be worth keeping around. I'm always going to be the Ugly Duckling." Emma's shoulders started shaking as she began to cry harder, and she added, "Sometimes I wish Regina had killed me before they ever put me in that portal."

That seemed to be the last straw, and Killian wrapped Emma in his arms as she broke down. He had never seen her so broken, not even that night on the docks compared to the way she looked at that moment, and he tried to think of the words to say to help. But nothing he came up with sounded good enough. Emma needed actual help, and Killian knew there was only one person in town who could give it to her.

That evening, Regina finished her oatmeal under the watchful eye of Granny, and she blinked in confusion when her phone vibrated on the counter. Technically, Regina was on sick leave for an indeterminate amount of time, so her secretary had no reason to contact her. And seeing as everyone she needed to contact was in the house or at work, Regina couldn't figure out who was texting her. Granny picked up the phone when Regina kept staring at it, and she adjusted her glasses as she stared at the screen.

"It's from Killian," she said, frowning. "He said – oh."

"Oh? Oh, what?"

"It's Emma," Granny sighed. "It sounds like she needs you."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because she's in love with you."

Regina jumped at the sound of her daughter's voice, still not used to it, and Bella came into the kitchen.

"What have I told you about eavesdropping?" Granny scolded.

"I'm a work in progress."

"You're a piece of work is what you are."

Bella grinned but came over and sat beside Regina. She seemed to hesitate with something, gnawing her lip between her teeth, but she shook her head and leaned forward on the island.

"Mom, Emma's not okay," she said. "And I don't mean that in a general sense. I mean she's broken, very broken, and it doesn't seem like she's getting the right kind of help to put herself back together again. But even in all the guilt, shame, fear, and even a bit of resentment, Emma's so in love with you that it hurts me to witness it as a bystander. I don't even think she realizes it, honestly, but it's there buried under a lot of trauma."

"Please tell me you didn't use your power on her," Regina sighed.

"I wasn't going to at first, but I felt like she was putting on a front, and we couldn't have a conversation with her hiding behind the wall. Plus, no offense to Granny or Ruby, but I needed to see for myself why you loved her."

"I don't – what? It's just a crush," Regina stammered.

"Are you going to lie to me, of all people, about how you feel?" Bella asked in disbelief.

"Your power has always been defective."

"Oh, please, and denial is a river in –

Regina glared at Bella, who rolled her eyes and changed tactics.

"Mom, you like Emma in a less than friendly way. It's fine. No one's going to judge you for liking the child of the woman who ruined our lives." Regina pinched Bella in the side, and she giggled, swatting her hand away. "Come on, Mom, I'm being serious. You need to talk to her. I think you're the only one who will get her to open up," she said.

"Bella's right," Granny said. "Even though she's going about it the wrong way."

"Aw, thanks. I appreciate the support."

"I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for your mother."

"Look, I'll take whatever support I can get around here. I feel like the bastard child."

"You are," Regina grumbled, rubbing her temples.

"Low blow, Mom. Low blow."

"I see you haven't lost your innate ability to get under my skin."

"Uh, hello? I'm your eldest daughter," Bella said. "It's my job, and I have plenty of years to catch up on."

Regina shot her a withering glare, but Bella wasn't fazed. Granny cleared her throat and interrupted them.

"The point I believe Bella is trying to make is that Killian wouldn't have reached out if it weren't important," Granny emphasized, squinting at Bella.

"But I don't even know what I'm supposed to say to her," Regina said.

"She doesn't need you to say anything," Bella responded. "I think she needs you to listen."

Regina was against the entire thing, but some part of her knew it was wrong to turn down a call for help from someone she…cared about. She folded her arms and waited near the vault. It was the safest and most private place in town, one where they wouldn't be interrupted without warning. And it was late enough that Emma could say she was out on patrol. Still, Regina was a little worried when the meet time came and went, but she waited outside, hoping that Emma wouldn't stand her up.

"Hey, sorry it took me so long."

Regina turned around, seeing Emma come up from the opposite end of the cemetery, and she sported a black eye. And carried an extra large cup of coffee from the diner.

"Emma, what –

"John Smith and Eric got drunk and started a fight at the bar. I caught a stray trying to break it up," she said flatly.

"You got hit in the face and then went for coffee?" Regina exclaimed.

"Excuse me for trying to stay conscious for this secret meeting of yours, your Majesty," Emma snapped. Then she took a deep breath and added in a much softer voice, "No, wait, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's been a long day, and I still have five hours left on my shift."

"That's part of why I wanted to talk to you," Regina said, ignoring the outburst.

"And you chose the cemetery?"

"My house is a little crowded at the moment," she said.

"Touché."

"Come inside, I have an ice pack lying around somewhere I'm sure."

Emma sat on the couch with a cup of coffee in one hand and an ice pack in the other. She pressed it against her eye and sighed in relief. Regina sat next to her, and Emma tried to shove down those ridiculous butterflies wreaking havoc on her stomach.

"Business first," Regina said. "Charlie has offered to come in and help out if you need it."

"I can't ask him to do that. He just retired after twenty-plus years –

"Which gives him more experience than Charming and Neal combined times ten. Plus, he offered. I didn't ask him to do it. He heard that you were short-handed, and he said he's not the type to hang around the house all day. Sam has also volunteered."

"Who is Sam?"

"Oh, right. You haven't officially met everyone yet. Sam is Kieran's best friend, and while she has a degree in finance, she used to be a security guard in Gotham, which is a real place I've discovered."

"Wait, Gotham as in –

"Yes."

"So does that mean –

"Yes," Regina sighed. "Batman is real."

Emma's mouth dropped open, and Regina leaned over, closing it with her finger.

"Focus, dear," she teased. "I promise I'll introduce you so you can hear all about him."

Emma flushed red and looked down, shifting on the couch. Regina leaned back and propped her head on the couch.

"Talk to Charlie in the morning," she said. "I promise he's not looking for anything other than desk work and a few rides across town to get a handle on where everything is. Take his help, Emma. Don't burn yourself out."

"I'll consider it, okay?"

"That's all I ask."

Emma nodded and took a sip of coffee before asking, "What's the real reason you brought me here?"

"Killian."

"Ah."

"You know I'm not going to force you to tell me anything, but I think out of everyone, I might be the best listener," she said.

"There's nothing wrong."

"Emma, you broke down crying not even six hours ago."

"I'm working a triple shift, all right? I have no trustworthy employees, and Henry still thinks Neal hung the fucking moon. It's called stress. That's all it is. And if that's what you wanted to talk to me about, then I'm sorry you wasted your time."

Regina didn't respond for several minutes, mostly because she was trying to figure out the best way to go about the conversation, but also because she hated when she was wrong. Emma was so far beyond okay, and Regina loathed the fact that she missed it. She tapped the coffee Emma held.

"What kind is it?"

"Black?"

"That's what I thought."

"What's the big deal? It's just coffee."

"No. It's not. See, on a regular day, you order coffee with seven packets of sugar because you hate the taste. However, there are days when you reduce the amount of sugar you have Ruby dump into your cup because you want as much caffeine as possible to hide the fact you either stayed up all night playing video games or you have something on your mind, and caffeine helps keep you from thinking about whatever it is bothering you. Straight black tells me you have something on your mind that goes far beyond stress."

Emma dropped the ice pack and put it on the table, flopping back against the cushion.

"Why do you even know that?" she asked tiredly.

"Despite how it seems, I pay attention."

"But why?"

"I care about you."

"You care about me?"

"That is what I said, yes."

"Bullshit."

"Emma –

"No, don't fucking Emma me. When I told you that I cared about you, you ran. And now you expect me to believe you've made a miraculous recovery from it? Bullshit."

Regina flexed her fingers and went for honesty, saying, "I was scared."

"Of what?"

"You! I was scared of you, you insufferable idiot. Fuck." Emma was startled by the curse, and Regina got up from the couch and went to the other side of the room. She took several deep breaths and ran a hand over her face. Not once did she turn around and face Emma. "I'm not good with things like this. You can ask my children if you want. But everything good in my life has been taken in one way or another. So when something new and exciting falls into my lap, or in your case, shows up on my doorstep, I get scared and push it away because I can't lose something I never have. That day in the kitchen, everything you said I had been hoping and waiting to hear, but I couldn't – I'm not ready to accept it. Not yet. I just got my children back, I can barely keep down food, and I'm still trying to regain my strength. But then Killian texts me that something's not right with you, and all I want is to help. I need you to be okay, Emma, because if you aren't… then where's that hope for me?"

Emma sat in shocked silence at the end of Regina's rant, and she struggled to find the words to respond. But the answer came from the depths of her subconscious, and despite every bone in her body rejecting the idea, Emma took a leap of faith.

"I'm gay."

Regina spun around, confused, and Emma put down her coffee. She rubbed her hands on her pants and let out a shaky laugh.

"Or, I guess, I'm queer. That might be the better, um, statement."

"I'm not sure I'm following," Regina said.

"No, I guess not. I haven't had a lot of practice with the speech," Emma admitted. "And the words aren't so easy when I'm not standing in front of my mirror, rehearsing it to tell one foster parent after the other until I kind of stopped trying. What was the point? I wasn't staying anywhere long enough for it to matter, and most of my foster families were conservative. The idea of a queer kid would've been too much, I guess."

"Queer is," Regina paused, "a form of sexuality or gender? I - Ruby made me study a book on sexuality some years ago, but I admit I'm a little rusty. What do you mean?"

Emma hunched in on herself and said, "I like women. But I don't always," she winced, "feel like one?"

Regina frowned in curiosity and came back to the couch. Emma swallowed roughly and made an awkward gesture toward her body.

"There are days – sometimes I – feel like something in between?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Both," Emma muttered, scratching her nose. "I didn't think we'd get this far in the conversation, honestly. Most people run when they hear that."

"That you're queer?"

"And, uh, genderfluid."

"Is that synonymous with non-binary or is it more of an adjacent term?"

Emma scrunched her face and said, "It's a little weird you know these words."

"I kind of had to know them. When we got to this realm, sexual orientation was everywhere. I felt out of the loop, and I never like that feeling. So I did research, and Ruby helped as well. Plus, I had to account for my sexuality, which was a journey in and of itself," Regina said, shrugging. "These types of things weren't common back in the Enchanted Forest. I had to do self-reflection and determine if my string of bad luck in relationships was because I kept dating the wrong type of man or if it was because I was dating a man in general. Coming out was a strange process, though, I will admit that. Accepting that I was more attracted to women than men, and then doubling down on the type of attraction I felt was hard because, in my world, you didn't acknowledge things like that. You pushed it aside and just suffered through whatever marriage or union you were in."

Emma began to relax, and Regina mentally breathed a sigh of relief. She took another risk and put her hand on Emma's thigh.

"If you want to talk to me about your story, straight through with no interruptions, then I'm okay. But if you want to pretend as if this never came up, I'm okay with that too."

Emma wrung her hands together and cleared her throat.

"Are you sure? It's not a happy story," she said.

"If you're okay with telling me, then I'm okay with listening."