TW - implied/referenced sexual assault, implied/referenced abuse, implied/referenced attempted murder, and conversations about gender identity and implied gender dysphoria.

I hope I didn't miss one, but this chapter touches on a few things that might be uncomfortable for some of you. I tried to keep it vague or as brief as possible. Outside of the beginning, this chapter didn't quite go the way I planned after the midpoint, but I like the direction it's going in better.

"Gender is one of those things they never teach you when you're a kid. It's like you're brought into the world and told to figure it out."

Emma picked at her pants as she sat on the floor, back against the wall as she faced Regina. She hadn't managed to look up at her yet, not since she agreed to talk, but she promised to make an effort. She hadn't touched the subject in years, and the words kept getting stuck in her throat.

"By definition, transgender is the umbrella term for people who identify as something different from what they were assigned at birth. But there's this spectrum. There are two ends with stops in between that mean the same thing at their core but have different, um, presentations. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Regina said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Okay, good. Good. Um." Emma sighed and rubbed her forehead, then winced when she remembered her eye. "For me," she paused, "it's like I have moments when I feel like a mixture of both. Or neither. Or just one. It fluctuates. And I had this foster father, a preacher, who couldn't understand why I wanted to know why I had to wear a dress when my foster brother got to wear a suit. His answer was always the same. You're a girl, Emma. Girls wear dresses. But I didn't – I didn't like them. I still don't. They make me feel like I'm living in someone else's body. But no one tells you what it means. No one told me why my skin itched when I wore certain things. No one sat me down and asked why I hated being called Daddy's little girl or such a beautiful, young woman. Or Princess."

Regina shifted in her peripheral, and Emma figured she was thinking of all of the times she called Emma that in anger or teasing.

"Those comments made me uncomfortable. But I got used to hearing them and pretending as if they didn't bother me. I'd become an expert at it. Still, my story isn't – everyone feels something different. And there's no set way to be something. But it felt like I was pushed into a box that kept getting smaller and smaller until I couldn't move anymore."

Emma unfolded her legs and brought them toward her chest.

"You know most of what I went through because of Neverland and Neal. But before I was the car thief, I was just a very unlucky foster kid. I bounced around a lot. And I mean a lot. I was in and out of houses, across the country, and never someplace longer than eight months. But one thing that stayed the same was the families. They all made me their little dress-up, picture-perfect, All-American girl. Blonde hair, green eyes, and a little bit of height made for the ideal kid. My social worker let that slip when she thought I wasn't listening. But that meant shopping trips where I tried on frilly dresses, skirts, and lots of pink. And then there were the nights when I was bent over the sink while someone dumped the lightest blonde known to man on my hair to keep it the same color. They didn't want to see my brown roots because it took away from the look.

"No matter if I was Emma Swan, Emma Jackson, Emma Beaumont, Emma Layman, or Emma Carlisle, I was the pretty blonde girl with innocent eyes. I was everyone's favorite obsession to pick and prod at until I looked like they wanted me to look. And then when I hit fifteen, I started attracting attention that I didn't want from the high school kids in my neighborhood. I told my foster mother about this one kid who kept messing with me. She said it was normal for boys to do that. I was supposed to flirt with them, make them want me, and then take it away. It was a game to them, and I was to play along. Then one day, my foster mother forgot to pick me up after tutoring, so I had to walk home later than normal. My route took me through the park behind the high school."

Emma rested her chin on her knees and squinted at the floor, lost in her head.

"His name was Garrett. Not a boy worth remembering unless you knew him as I did – pinned to the ground behind the school with his shirt shoved down my throat so I didn't scream so loud…" Emma made a dismissive gesture and laughed humorlessly. "I did all the things I was supposed to do afterward, told my foster parents, and the only thing they said was that Garrett didn't mean any harm. It was the kind of mistake that the star quarterback headed to a top-five school made when he was lonely or something like that. Two days later, I was packed up and on my way to New York for my next stop. The family couldn't deal with the stigma, and they were pillars of the community. So they dumped me with social services and moved on with their life. But me… not so much.

"When we stopped for the night in Philadelphia, I snuck out and ran away. The rest you know but not the ins and outs of it. You don't know what happened between me running away and meeting Neal. I'm not proud of what I did to get money some nights. Stealing was the easy part. Going into dark alleys with drunks and addicts was not." In her peripheral, Emma watched the realization strike Regina, and she finally, finally, looked at her directly. "Henry was lucky to come from Neal and not one of the men I ran into when I was low on money. And it pains me to say that, but it's true," she said.

Regina was struggling with the no-interruption thing, and Emma knew that. She smiled a little and let it go for the moment.

"Believe it or not, prison is where I got answers. My cellmate, Kris, was non-binary, and they were put with the women because their lawyer was afraid something would happen to them in the men's ward. But Kris kept me safe while I was pregnant. I got extra food at lunch, could read in the main space without anyone bugging me, and they let me sleep on their pillow when my back started to hurt. And in return, Kris let me ask questions. I had never met a non-binary person before, at least not that I knew of, so I was curious, and they talked to me. They talked and talked until there was nothing left to say. And if they were in a bad mood or not interested in being around people, Kris would drop off books so I didn't have to waddle to the library. They broke things down and made me see my life differently."

Emma dropped her legs and lifted her shirt, stretching to show the scar above her belly button.

"There was a fight shortly after I gave birth to Henry. I had just gotten out of the infirmary when some new girl got convinced to take me out. There was some kind of hierarchy in there, and Kris was at the top. I'd become someone Kris took care of, but I didn't know that until that day. This new girl finds me in my cell, and she jumps on me. Then there's this searing pain in my stomach. The new girl runs off, and there's blood everywhere. She'd sawed down a fork and jammed it right here," she said, tapping her stomach. "I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and I thought I was going to die. But Kris found me. They picked me up when it sounded like no one was coming, and they carried me to the infirmary. The doctor said had Kris gotten me there a minute later, I would have bled out on the bed."

Emma lowered her shirt and rested her head against the wall.

"After that, we were inseparable. Kris didn't go anywhere without me, and I didn't go anywhere without them. I think somewhere down the line I fell in love with them, and it was strange. But those last few months were some of the best I'd had." Emma's smile was sad, and she cleared her throat. "Kris was killed the day before I was released. They were attacked in the laundry room, suffocated with the sheet, and a prison guard found their body in the dryer. It was the worst day of my life. Kris was my first genuine friend in a place where friends were so hard to come by, and they were technically my first love. They protected me, and I got to know them without all the pretenses. And I loved them. A part of me still does. When I got out, I wanted to go to Florida, but my heart wasn't in it anymore. So I went North instead. The rest is history."

Emma blew out a frustrated breath and ran a hand through her hair.

"You know, after that, I started testing the waters a little. I would let my roots go brown just to see how it would look on me. I started wearing clothes in the men's section, trying out how they made me feel, and I would tuck my hair under a cap. I'd stand in front of the mirror and hold it away from my face, see if I could pull off certain haircuts. I started working out, putting on some muscle, and I got into chasing bail jumpers because my choices were limited. It ended up working out well for me because I got to dress up sometimes and pretend to be something I'm not, and it all helped me begin to accept myself. Then Henry showed up, and after coming here and finding out all of this crazy shit, and then meeting my parents, it set me back. I can admit that now that you've forced me to come clean."

"I did no such thing," Regina blurted out, incensed.

"So much for not interrupting," Emma joked.

Regina flushed and said, "You did that on purpose."

"You were getting impatient, I could tell."

"I," she paused and pursed her lips, "may have overestimated my ability to not interrupt."

"No shit."

Regina waved her off and said, "It was a challenge to figure out how I could respond to one thing, and then you'd say another thing, and now I'm at a lost completely."

"Over which part?"

"All of it."

"I wasn't telling you to get a response," Emma said. "You asked me what was wrong, and I told you. But my demons are my demons, and I can't wish them away on a shooting star like you did back in the Enchanted Forest."

Regina shot her a look and said, "I never wished on a star, and I never will. You must have me confused with your mother."

"Ew, no. Never say that again."

"You started it."

"Look, my point to all of this was to let you in, but I'm not asking for your help."

"You should be! You shouldn't be going through any of this alone, Emma. I didn't bring you down here to gossip. I brought you down here to learn and figure out how I could be there for you. Because I do want to help and make things easier for you, and so do Killian, Ruby, and Granny."

"I can handle it."

"Yes, because you've done such a great job since," Regina snapped.

"That was a minor setback."

"You know what? Fine!" Regina stood up and pointed to the door. "Go ahead and suffer in silence like the stubborn fool that you are, but don't ever, ever, come crying to me or Ruby or Killian when your mother does what she does best and acts like everyone else you've ever had in your life and belittles you for how you feel, even though I'm standing here telling you that I want to help you. That I care about you and your happiness," she said.

"Now why does that sound so familiar?" Emma deadpanned.

Regina faltered, and her anger left her in one big exhale She sat back down on the couch and leaned over, sighing.

"Emma, all I am asking for is a chance, just like you did."

"Why?"

"I already told you-

"No, I mean why should I give you that chance?"

"Because I want you in my life."

"Yeah, but why? You have your family together again. You have Killian. There's no room for me, and I'm not interested in being a spare you can call on when you're bored or lonely."

Regina was about to respond when she stopped, and she stared at Emma a little too knowingly for Emma's taste. Emma ground her teeth and looked down. She heard Regina move from the couch, and the woman stopped in front of her. Regina tilted her head up and looked her in the eyes. There was a vulnerability in her gaze that Emma hadn't seen before, and her breath caught in her throat.

"I'm not doing this to get back at your parents. I'm not doing this because I feel sorry for you. I want you in my life because I want you. When I ran the other day, it was because I couldn't fathom the idea of you caring about me when I have been falling for you since the moment I saw you. Even when we were fighting and when I was angry with you, I still wanted you. Even when you treated me like trash and turned against me, I still wanted you, and I hated myself for it. Because I had fallen for the one person in town I couldn't have. So, please, tell me how I can help. Let me in a little more. I want you to give me this chance because," she paused and looked down, "I love you, Emma. And it's a little scary for me."

"Pronouns." Regina looked up, confused, and Emma smiled softly. "Ask me my pronouns for the day or ask me how I'm feeling if you don't want to be obvious about it," she said.

"Why would I need to ask you about pronouns?"

"I thought you said you read the book."

"That was almost five years ago," Regina said defensively.

"Oh, right. You are nearly sixty." Emma yelped when Regina smacked her on the shoulder, and she started laughing. "I was kidding!" she exclaimed.

"Does it look like I'm laughing?"

"Okay, noted. Guess even you are sensitive about your age."

"I'll be happy to give you a matching black eye," Regina warned.

"Yes, dear."

Regina rolled her eyes, and Emma tapped her on the cheek to get her attention.

"I prefer they/them, but there are days I can let she/her slide."

"And all I have to do is ask?"

"Yes."

"I can't possibly see how that will come up in conversation."

"You're overthinking it. Just ask me how I'm feeling when you see me, and I'll know."

"If you say so." Regina shifted and suddenly looked nervous. "Are you comfortable with your name? Does it bother you?" she asked.

"It depends," Emma admitted. "My old boss called me Em, which never bothered me on any day."

"So you prefer Em?"

"I do."

"Okay. I can do that, Em," Regina repeated. "I can do that."

"Are you convincing me or yourself?"

"Both," Regina said dryly.

"Look, it's a process. It's one for me too, and I'm still not as comfortable in my skin as I want to be. But I'm – I'm grateful that Killian reached out to you. I don't like the idea of having so many people know, but Kris taught me that trust comes when you have faith. And I'm putting faith in you, Regina. In your family." Emma kissed her cheek and added in a whisper, "Please don't let me fall."

"I won't."

Bella, Kieran, and Emmett sat in the backyard under a tree. Kieran nursed a bottle of liquor that Ruby snagged for her, and Bella was on her third beer. Emmett sipped on a cup full of blood after Rosalie brought some back for him when she went hunting earlier that evening. There was plenty of wildlife in the area, not necessarily what they wanted, but it was enough to sustain them until they found better alternatives. With their mother gone, Ruby and Granny at work, and the others playing catch up on sleep or reading, the three of them took advantage of the silence.

"Why is this so weird?" Bella sighed. "We used to talk to one another all of the time."

"That was before I became a vampire, Kieran got thrown into another world where superheroes are real, and you became a functioning human being."

Bella flipped him off, and Kieran picked at the label on her bottle.

"Where do we even start?" she asked.

"How about we just don't talk about it at all?" Emmett suggested. "Nothing good comes from reliving the past."

"But that's what we're doing right now," Bella said. "We're reliving the past."

"Our relationship isn't part of the past, Iz. We're here together after being ripped away from one another. I mean, Emmett went back to the 1930s, and he's lived through things that you and I learned about in our history classes. You moved to London and learned from some of the brightest minds in creation but in my world, you and Rosalie were world-renowned scientists. I never met you, but I met her, and the multiverse opened a lot of doors to things that we would have never experienced had it not been for what happened."

"Are you saying you're happy that Snow separated us?"

"No, I'm saying that we can't sit here and pretend as if it hasn't changed us. This isn't about catching up or picking up where we left off. We can't do that because where we left off takes us backward. I'm not the same kid anymore, not in some ways, and Emmett's different too. So are you."

"Can you still read ten books in an hour?" Bella asked.

"What?"

"Can you still read ten books in an hour?"

"I – no. I read eleven now."

"Emmett, do you still know the difference between a longsword and a broadsword?"

"Of course."

"And I still talk to animals in my spare time and sleep in the woods." Bella poked Kieran in the cheek and smiled. "Baby Rebel, we're not that different from the people we were back home. The only thing that's changed is our environment. You're still you, I'm still me, and Emmett's still our big, annoying brother. It's a matter of picking up where we left off without losing what makes us who we are today. Does that make sense?"

"No, you never make sense," Kieran grumbled. "And stop calling me that."

"That's what you are. You're our baby rebel with the tattoos and the piercings."

"But you have them too!"

"Yeah, but mine are tiny. Yours take up some serious real estate."

"Shut up."

"I missed messing with you. You became Lena Luthor, dude. You had the most prolific sibling in all of comic book history, and Lex left some big shoes for me to fill."

Kieran's face fell, and her eyes watered. Bella noticed immediately her joke didn't land.

"Hey, what's wrong? What just happened?" Kieran's lip started quivering, and Bella put down her beer. She pulled Kieran into her lap and held on, rocking her side to side. "Come on, baby rebel, talk to me. What'd I say?" she asked.

"Lex wasn't the best brother, even as a pretend one," she murmured, wiping at her face. "So you don't have big shoes to fill at all. If anything, the bare minimum might be more than what he ever did for me."

"He was an asshole or something?"

"More than that. He was a narcissistic, manipulative, abusive piece of shit," Kieran scoffed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up, did you just say abusive?" Emmett asked.

Realizing the mistake she made, Kieran cleared her throat and said, "It's not a big deal, okay? It was a long time ago."

"That is not what he asked."

"Iz –

Bella grabbed Kieran's chin gently, turning her head so they could see eye-to-eye, and she asked, "Lena Kieran Mills, did Lex Luthor ever raise his hand to touch you in a way that was considered violent or aggressive?"

Kieran deflated and whispered, "Yes."

"Thank you for your honesty. Now I know whom to kill when we inevitably go back to that realm so you can get your love life straightened out."

"I'm not – no. What?" Kieran stammered.

"You think we didn't notice how doe-eyed you got when Sam mentioned Supergirl?"

"Supergirl is just a friend."

"Yeah, okay." Bella grinned and rested her chin on Kieran's shoulder. "I never thought I would see my baby sister get flustered over a comic book character," she teased. "Wait, does she call you Lena or Kieran?"

"Kieran," she admitted, blushing.

Bella whooped and held up her hand, and Emmett high-fived her.

"Hell yeah! Big sis for the win once again."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't." Bella tilted her head, and her smile fell. "And in case this is not perfectly clear, no one will ever lay their fucking hands on you again. Lex better hope he doesn't run into me because I promise you I will drag him to Hell myself."

Emmett nodded in agreement, and Kieran kissed Bella's forehead.

"Have you always been this protective of me?"

A dark look crossed Bella's face, but the moment passed without Kieran and Emmett noticing, and Bella smiled a little crookedly.

"Only for my little sister," she said.

"Guess I'm the lucky one."

Kieran turned away to grab her bottle, and Bella's eyes flashed black before going back to normal.

Regina snuck into the kitchen and lightly closed the door behind her. She only made it halfway into the foyer before she ran into Emmett.

"Fun night?" he asked.

"I wouldn't say that," she said, taking off her coat. "But I think we made progress."

"Good. So what are we working with here? Bella gave me and Kieran a heads-up. Are we going he/him, they/them, or is it a mixture of both?"

Regina chuckled and toed off her heels, picking them up and making her way to the living room.

"Your sister talks too much," she said. "But Em is comfortable with they/them or she/her. It depends on the day."

"Ah, okay. I'll be sure to keep that in mind whenever we interact. But based on that look in your eyes and that smile on your face, that could be happening soon?"

"I doubt it," Regina sighed. "But one can hope."

"We can. I think things will go in your favor."

"Thank you. What are you up to?"

"Rosalie and I are going for a walk," he said. "Bella's having a sleepover with Kieran, so we're thinking about scoping the town out."

"Your sister and her girlfriend shouldn't be sleeping in the same bed at all."

Emmett shot her a look and said, "Calm down, they aren't having sex. Bella has – she's still got her nightmares. Rosalie being there helps."

"I still don't like the idea of them in the same room all night."

"Keep that in mind when Emma comes over."

"Em, not Emma," she corrected. Then she huffed and added, "We're not going to have sex while you all are here."

"You should've said you wouldn't be having it all."

"Well, that would be a lie," she joked. "I'm interested in spending a few nights -"

"Okay, yeah. No. I'm out," he said, shaking his head. "Rose, you ready?"

Rosalie poked her head out of the kitchen and said, "Let me finish making Bella's tea, and we can leave."

"Tea? What tea?" he asked.

"She wakes up in the middle of the night and usually wants jasmine tea."

Emmett shrugged, and Regina scrunched her face.

"Since when does she like jasmine tea?" she asked.

"I think she drank it in London," Rosalie answered, going back into the kitchen when the kettle sounded.

Regina hummed and patted Emmett on the shoulder.

"I'm going upstairs," she said. "Lock the door on your way out."

"Yes ma'am."

"And be safe, please?"

"We will."

Regina said her goodbyes, and she stopped to do the same to Rosalie. By the time she made it upstairs, Regina was exhausted emotionally, mentally, and physically. She stripped out of her clothes and climbed into bed, not wanting to do anything but sleep. But her phone vibrated from her pants on the floor, and she stretched over to pluck it out of her pocket. She squinted at the screen, a smile growing on her face when she saw who it was.

My Savior: I love you too.