Emma had sensed something was wrong. More wrong than Cora making an appearance, which meant that it was really bad. And though she had promised herself she would wait for Regina to come to her like she had the previous night, she had felt the magic leave but still heard sounds, so she edged out of her room and padded down the hall, hoping that Regina wouldn't kill her for intruding, until she reached the door of the master suite and heard it. Muffled crying. Bawling. She didn't care if Regina killed her any more. She couldn't let her suffer like that.

She ran in, spotting the brunette slumped on the floor, who looked up shocked at Emma's entrance, but not enough to stop or try to hide. In fact, she just cried harder. And Emma was spurred to her side. Regina was in no position to talk. She could barely breathe. But Emma could be there. She could sit with her. So she dropped down beside the brunette, simply sitting side-by-side, until it felt too strange not to be doing anything, although the alternative was certainly stranger for them.

After a minute or so of listening to Regina's painful sorrow, Emma went for it anyway, rubbing her palm between the brunette's shoulder blades and hushing her, taking deep breaths for Regina to imitate instead of her harried gulps of air.

Eventually Regina's breathing returned to normal, even as the tears continued to stream down her face despite her concentrated effort, so ashamed of letting Emma see her like this, of letting her mother have this effect on her, of having tears left at all to mourn her disgrace of a life.

Emma clearly wanted to ask what had happened to lead to her spectacular breakdown, but she wasn't going to. She was already amazed that Regina had let her stay so long, and she wasn't going to do anything to break that.

Regina saw her curiosity anyway, and debated what to say. She had to say something. Her natural inclination was towards a curt dismissal. An unspoken demand that the blonde never mention this again lest she want to find herself the subject of a sleeping curse. But even stronger was her visceral need to talk to someone. To actually talk to someone, spill the acid that had torn up her insides for years and years. And Emma was that only someone. The only one she would ever consider opening up to since so much of her had been ripped open already.

But she was restrained by the utter fear of losing her.

Emma was her shaky tether to the world, and if she lost her, she would be led straight back to Cora. Or to nothingness. Because she loved Henry too much to put him through that. He could survive—he could be happy—without her.

Still, there was too much risk involved to give Emma the whole truth. But at the very least, she should give her the information they had been hoping to find.

"I found out why she wanted Rumple alive."

Emma was startled by the quiet and dangerously low voice after minutes of only sniffles and shallow breathing, but she didn't press, knowing that Regina needed to direct this. No matter what happened the woman was crying in her arms, so she would be there for her. Even if she weren't, even if Regina had clammed up and were Miss Swanning her and pushing her away, Emma made a promise. More than one. And she would keep them.

"The Dark One…" Regina sputtered. Emma had been exposed to quite a bit of their realm, but this, that a man she had interacted with was literally the embodiment of evil, and that Regina was often found worse than him for reasons she didn't care to consider...this might be difficult. "Rumplestiltskin contains the most powerful dark magic in our realm. A force called the Dark One that inhabits a once-human soul." She paused, managing to sound merely explanatory between her tears, allowing Emma the opportunity to comment or question. But the blonde didn't take it for once. She sat waiting patiently for Regina to continue.

"He can be controlled by a magic dagger. The only dagger—the only weapon—that can kill its host."

It was becoming more difficult to hide as she went on, her explanations leading directly to the truth, to the plan that Regina had so recently considered, and to what she supposed would be Emma's last moments by her side. But she couldn't stop now. Emma would learn the truth, that her heart was as dark as everyone said.

"My mother wanted us to find this dagger to control Gold and make him kill you and your parents. So that I could have Henry to myself with none of the blame."

As soon as she the quiet words reached her ears, Emma knew. She heard the longing.

Regina had considered it.

As much as she expected her temper to flare, her anger at the Evil Queen and disappointment in the Mayor—It wasn't happening. Cora's plan would've made everything right for Regina. To have her mom and her son and no threat of either leaving again? Hell, that would make everything right for Emma. They both just wanted family. And as odd as it was for her to think it, Emma realized Regina was having a much harder time than she was at getting one. Besides, this crying wasn't an act. Regina could pull off many illusions, but there was no way this would be one of them. Vulnerable was not her go to. So yes, the anger wasn't there as she realized with pride that the brunette had stood up to her mother, refused the easy way, and perhaps for the first time didn't succumb to the manipulation. But there was a little hurt. As much as she knew she annoyed Regina, Emma couldn't help but think they were at least friends after all they had gone through together—did Regina not care enough to want to keep her alive?

Still, she said nothing, simply observing the woman beside her, running her fingertips in light circles over her back. She couldn't remember a time when she had ever done this with anyone. She had never been much of a comforter, preferring all emotional moments be spent alone. But this—with Regina—felt so natural.

Regina noticed. On paper, everything about the situation was so wrong, so uncomfortable, so unnatural for her and for the blonde. But it wasn't. It wasn't at all. She was impressed by and grateful for the blonde's calming presence and patience. Her stomach was unsurprisingly tense, still sick over losing her control in front of Emma, but the fear of losing her had edged off. She was not being judged, even if Emma knew that she had considered her mother's offer. More than considered. But Regina had to say it out loud. The masochist in her had to push the balance, push Emma away.

"I agreed to it…to give her a chance."

The words were so quiet, Emma didn't know whether she was meant to hear them at all.

"Regina—"

"I wouldn't have hurt you."

"—I understand."

Their words had tangled in the air, but both recipients had heard them clearly. And both were shocked. Regina did care about her after all. And Emma wasn't budging.

"How? How could you possibly…?" Her confused wonder quickly turned to anger. There was no way Emma would act like this without some sort of plan. "What are you playing?"

"Regina, I don't have any angle here!" She turned fully to face the brunette, knowing that she had to get through to her before the anger took over and there was no one left to help.

"I—I understand. I understand because it's easy. It's everything, and in your head—It's not so awful. It's not so awful you thought about it."

"But I didn't just think of it! I agreed! I would have done anything she asked of me! Anything to have Henry to myself! To have her!" Regina was breathing heavily again, her tears flowing as her anger so easily turned against herself.

Emma paused in consideration, resuming her contact on body-warmed silk, knowing she wouldn't convince Regina of her lack of wrongdoing, but thinking she could remind her of her own restraint.

"What changed?" Her question was genuine, her one way to broach whatever happened that had caused Regina to fall apart so spectacularly, considering how well she had held her guard together through all sorts of hell before.

Regina had been waiting for the question, any question from the blonde, the moment where she would have to decide how to continue, whether she, the Evil Queen, caster of curses, would share her turmoil willingly. Whether she could tell someone something no one else knew.

"She…"

As Regina struggled to continue, Emma realized the flaw in her questioning. Refusing to be pushed away was one thing. But she couldn't push back.

"Regina, you never have to tell me anything. Not if you don't want to. But I'm here. And I'm not leaving. Not even if you are still conspiring to kill my parents. And maybe me." Emma couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of it all. This woman had in fact tried to kill her parents, multiple times, but sitting in her pajamas on the floor of her suburban mansion, Emma thought a kitten would be less threatening. Her theory was only confirmed when Regina turned to look at her, truly look at her since the first time she had bust through the door, with big, sad eyes, glimmering in the moonlight with unshed tears.

"Why?"

With a single word, Emma saw that the true power of the Evil Queen lay in the ability to crush her heart without even touching it.

"Because you deserve that from me. Because I want to. And because you're Henry's mom. I'll do anything for him. And he loves you."

Regina had no power over the fresh round of tears that had burst from within her. She didn't even know whether they were from Emma's proclamations, or it actually registering that she wasn't leaving, or from thinking of Henry or his love. She was blubbering, unheard of for a Queen, impossible for Cora's daughter. Thinking of her mother, her rage returned, hardening the emotions that made her body feel boneless, until it compelled her to reveal everything.

"She was the reason I couldn't have children."

She expected something from it being out in the air, but the tension just hung there as Emma clearly didn't know what was going on or how to respond. Regina almost laughed at the concerned confusion she had come to expect from the blonde, the face with furrowed eyebrows and curled lip, the one she shared with Henry, the one that was now managing to calm her in its normalcy. Just her grief remained as she continued.

"My mother put a spell on me, so there wouldn't be more competition for the throne. All of these years…" Her words faded away as she considered how things would have been different. A child of her own? A reason to be loved as Queen? Or just another devotee to Leopold? Would she have eventually cast a spell on herself as the years dragged on? As she fell further into her mother and Rumple's designs for her? Or maybe Rumple would have himself.

No matter the path, all the same pain.

"I told her to leave."

All this time, Emma had no words, just continued her gentle circles on Regina's back, her green eyes filled with a mix of sympathy and pride and determination.

As Regina observed her, she couldn't help but see that apparently, she was officially one of the Savior's causes now. But her focus lay on the long fingers skimming across her pajamas.

More than anything, it felt so wonderful to be touched with the sole purpose of comfort.

Emma, for all her flaws, had never tried to manipulate her—despite her increasing belief that she had been blind to it from everyone else, she knew the blonde with all of her bluntness was not one for that. Her truth always made it to the surface. And Emma could scream and hit and argue all she wanted and never come near to the way Regina was used to being used. And hurt.

So Regina, exhausted on every front, broken really, found herself giving in to the warmth radiating from the woman next to her on the floor, and leant into the blonde's shoulder.

The hand on her back stilled for a moment in surprise. Emma had not been expecting this.

All the admissions had come out, which meant that all the walls had to come back up and Regina could yell at her for invading her personal space, her room, whatever. But here they were, still on the floor, with Regina closer than ever. It was an odd sort of half hug since Regina hadn't moved her arms, but her head fit perfectly into the crook of Emma's neck.

Once she had recovered, she continued her ministrations, not wanting to upset their delicate balance, but as the brunette remained still after her breathing had settled, and it seemed the majority of her tears had dried, Emma decided to go for it. She dropped her hand from the brunette's back and wrapped her arm around her small waist in one swoop, tugging Regina in even closer.

At that, Regina tilted her head back, brown eyes catching Emma's in what could best be described as bewilderment. As if she couldn't possibly understand why the blonde would want to hug her. Regina could list the people who had held her with care on one hand. Even Emma, the product of broken homes and master of failed relationships, was wealthy in comparison. Emma, seeing in Regina's eyes that this was not just about them anymore, this was unheard of, felt any last resistance she had towards the woman—or more accurately towards the feelings she had developed for her—breaking away.

So she held tighter, drawing Regina to sit up against her and the bed, her arm only leaving her side to stroke thick, soft hair.

Cora's wretched failure meant that she would actually be reduced to watching her daughter until she could find a way in, shamefully having to study the subject she should have known better than any other. It was a foolish mistake leading her in to that conversation when Cora had not been around to see the effects of her spell. She had woefully underestimated her daughter's capacity for inanities like caring for children. But she would not lose this war.

She sat back aboard the ship, watching her daughter slump to the floor in her conjuring, taking great pleasure in her profession of love. She could always count on Regina's weakness for love.

She was considerably less pleased by the blonde's entrance. And by the time she had placed her hand on Regina's back, Cora was furious. She had literally driven her daughter into the arms of the Savior. Of course, she had known their relationship had changed, but she had hardly expected this much. She should have been paying attention. Her only hope was in Regina's reticence to share—there would perhaps be a second chance for the evening to go as planned when the Savior left in horror upon discovering Regina had been willing to kill her for her son. But it never happened. All that did was a terribly shameful breakdown followed by snuggling even closer to the blonde.

How disgusting.

Cora fumed. She had waited 28 years for this. It may not have felt like it, but she waited all the same. She would not have her plans be thwarted by her daughter's new hope.

But how to get back on track?

Regina did still have to be a part of it. Cora could become the Dark One without her, of course, but it would be more difficult. Regina was sure to have some quite powerful magic by now, and it would be unwise to leave her in a position to be able to use it against her. Besides, it would be nice to have her around, someone to worship her. And Regina did already love her. She just needed to break her. Which considering she was already broken enough to allow the Savior to see her like that…Cora contemplated the sight in front of her. Even if her daughter were closer to that—woman—it could work to her advantage. The Savior was Regina's last link, last connection to her pathetic town. Losing her support, that would be the last blow to Regina's hope. And without hope? Her daughter would be perfectly malleable.

But the question was, how to sever their connection? She couldn't just kill the blonde, or Regina would blame her, or be docile for a while as she was with Daniel only to find her strength to disastrous ends later. Both were too messy. No. Cora needed to get Emma to reject Regina, as she almost did with Archie. But she couldn't use the same gambit again. And since the blonde actually cared now for reasons she had yet to uncover, a trick situation would be challenging to come by. There was only one possible solution.

Cora needed to control her heart.

Regina may have known her methods better than anyone, but now she was distracted. By emotion, by desire, by her world falling apart all over again. This wouldn't be like Hook when her daughter was poised on what she considered her victory, aware of every last detail, every threat. Her pitiful daughter was crying in the arms of a woman who wore indecent pants on a regular basis. For the benefits of controlling the Savior: to bring her to an untimely end without Regina knowing she was behind it, to eliminate her as an obstacle in Regina having Henry, to allow an opportunity to disabuse Regina of the notion that the blonde cared, maybe even to assume the power she possessed innately, even if it was good—It would be worth the risk.

But it was all for naught if she couldn't get around that pesky magic that had so forcefully rejected her before. The blonde was untrained, so it clearly wasn't purposeful, but Cora was the most powerful witch in any of the realms. She would find a way around it.

Watching the pair still sitting on the floor of her daughter's bedroom, she couldn't hold back a scoff as Regina nestled into the crook of Emma's neck. But then, she spotted it.

Emma's eyes as she pulled Regina in.

The bumbling Sheriff loved her daughter.

For the first time all night, she smiled. Maybe this wasn't going to be such an undertaking after all. Even if she couldn't have the Savior's heart, maybe her daughter could.

Cora had a plan.