Emma could have sat there forever, even losing sensation in her tailbone and feeling her eyelids sagging under their own weight, because it was the kind of moment you spent your life hoping for, and there was no guarantee for anything like it to ever happen again.

Especially with Regina being the other participant. Despite her current comfort in the situation, Emma couldn't help but wonder if after this whole Cora problem was dealt with and the former Queen got some real rest, Regina wouldn't go back to hiding all of her insecurities and weaknesses and emotions away under the harsh, bright reality of her life in Storybrooke. And whether that would mean they could be allied under Henry, but nothing else. Emma wouldn't go back to that. She wouldn't even accept grudging respect.

She was going to fight for Regina's friendship, and though she couldn't force anything more, she could certainly hope for it. Because even if Regina were to deny it in the very next moment, Emma had never felt more secure than she did with the surprisingly petite Evil Queen nestled next to her.

Slowly though, she could feel Regina, tired and sore and cried out and empty, beginning to pull away. Emma's reluctance to let go was tempered only by the look she caught in still glistening eyes.

Regina may not have been entirely comfortable with where things had progressed, but she wasn't going to go back to where they had been. This was new, uncharted, but they would handle it, just like they would handle Cora.

"I'm…sorry."

Meeting that emerald gaze, Regina wasn't entirely sure what she had meant the apology for, so unused to giving them in the first place. It was for her breakdown, for her weakness in succumbing to her mother; but it was also for everything she had done after Emma's arrival in Storybrooke…maybe for everything she had done, period. Maybe it was to herself, mourning the loss of the pure-hearted girl she once was, or for what that girl had suffered through, or for how she hadn't been strong enough…

Sorry meant too much, and for the first time, Regina realized, nowhere near enough.

Emma knew this wasn't just about the tears, the discomfort. And she recognized its importance. While Emma had never been an Evil Queen, she had a few things worth apologizing for herself.

"Me too."

Regina didn't know what to make of that. It seemed so sincere, but what could Emma possibly be sorry about that she hadn't apologized for already? She waited for Emma to continue, to say she was sorry for supporting Regina, sorry for thinking her worthy of anything, sorry for having stayed with her at all, sorry they had to go through this insanity, but Emma's next words were entirely unexpected.

"I really should have moved us to somewhere more comfortable. You have great carpet, though."

Regina laughed. Untamed emotions coursing through her system, and she laughed. Emma was petting the floor by her side, her smile growing through Regina's reaction. Somehow she had once again managed to say the right thing, finding that the Queen was just as partial to humor as a preferred method of distraction as she was. More importantly, she had invalidated many of the brunette's fears in stressing that even with a change of venue, she would still be there.

"Oh, yeah?" Regina managed to cock an eyebrow.

"Yeah, really high quality."

It was insane, their smiling at each other. Then again, if ever there was a time for crazy, Emma could make a solid argument for two in the morning in the Evil Queen's bedroom in Storybrooke, Maine.

"Maybe we should get some sleep?" Emma continued after a moment. "If it's even possible in this town any more?"

Emma was reluctant to end things; she was reluctant to move away from Regina at all, but she turned to face her, knowing that if there were one good excuse for breaking their moment, it was for sleep.

"Doubtful."

Regina couldn't bring herself to look at Emma. Even if she did manage to steal a few more hours, they would be wracked with nightmares. She didn't even want to lie down, much preferring fighting off her fears until morning when she could see Henry again. But glancing up to see the blonde's concern, she changed her mind. Emma would sleep better not worrying about her.

"But I suppose we could try."

Emma gave her what she hoped was a supportive smile. "Great."

Of all the reasons Emma hated Cora, she was pretty sure that having to go to bed instead of continuing to sit curled around Regina, just so she could attempt to be adequately prepared for imminent attack, was currently at the top of her list.

In the silence, Regina had noticed the sleeves of her nightshirt, damp from wiping away snot and tears, and realizing how much of a mess she was, how she probably looked, she tried to surreptitiously hide the stained silk, her eyes, any evidence of what had conspired.

However, her attempts were thwarted when Emma suddenly covered her hands with her own.

The blonde had moved directly in front of her, observing at her as she would any other day, when Regina was all polished makeup and tailored suits, for reasons Regina couldn't even begin to understand.

"Game plan in the morning when we aren't so crazy tired?"

Regina managed a nod, transfixed by Emma's warmth seeping through her skin. "But we'll have to start early—without me…my mother will be even less predictable. More desperate. And she will likely use more drastic measures to turn me."

Emma shuddered involuntarily. She hated to think what constituted "drastic measures" for Cora. Still, there wasn't anything they could do now. Not unless she made a move.

Emma gave Regina's hands a squeeze before pulling them both up to stand, their legs reluctantly adjusting to the new pressure.

"I know this won't exactly work for you, but try not to worry about it right now."

It was a testament to her weariness that Regina solely appreciated the sentiment for what it was, her hands still in the Saviors.

"I can't promise anything," she managed with a sad smile, "but I'll try."

"Goodnight, Emma."

With one last squeeze, Emma reluctantly withdrew her hands.

"Goodnight, Regina"

Somehow Emma managed to leave the room and make her way to her own guest room, though she couldn't remember why.

She had wanted to stay. As she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, despite her body's constant ache, she didn't even think of sleep. She thought of Regina. She thought of the depths in those brown eyes. She thought of how it had felt like the greatest honor being let in, even as it hurt so viscerally to see and hear her pain. She thought of how she didn't like the idea of the brunette being alone, which was ridiculous because she had been so not hours before, not to mention most of her life. But that was all the more reason why Emma didn't like it. She thought of how ridiculous it was that she was ready and willing to drop everything to comfort and protect a woman who up until recently had not shown any signs of wanting or needing either.

It was just the rest of the night. Only a few hours of unconsciousness. Why should she care? It wasn't like she could force Regina to cuddle—why would she even want to?

As thoughts of Regina tumbled around in her head, she somehow managed, despite it all, to fall into a restless sleep.

Which was exactly what Cora had been waiting for.

She had set up watch on the blonde's room, exercising her minimal patience to its capacity as she anticipated her effort's grand results. It was true she had been rather reckless with her magic recently—there hadn't been any reason to refine her skills, to focus on technique, planning, when there was no one in her realm to challenge her. Now, she had to use her training to its full advantage—against an unpracticed magical being that wouldn't see it coming.

She had to restrain herself from transporting into the room the moment Emma's eyelids had dropped, pausing a few minutes to assure an undetected appearance. Finally confident that the blonde would not awake at her magic, Cora began her work, once again using her glamouring abilities to their fullest.

She became Regina.

Complete with tearstained pajamas, though she was certainly unhappy about that. Displeased with the idiot dog's reaction to her illusion the first time around, she made extra effort now, concentrating on every aspect of her daughter's current appearance down to the shapes of her fingernails and the scent of her shampoo. She would not be foiled by sloppy work. She had even refrained from covering Emma's room, knowing Regina would be able to sense that magic in her light sleep, opting instead to augment her daughter's dreams, where she would be too busy battling with her imaginary demons to face her mother.

Taking hearts had never required much finesse, but taking the Savior's heart? That required the preparation and skill of a surgeon.

Finally pleased with her transformation, and swallowing the disgust that came paired with the swollen eyes and salty cheeks, she poofed into the sleeping blonde's room, instantly casting a classic dream spell. She needed Emma to be awake enough for her senses to override her instinct, but not so much to distrust the illusion.

Leaning over the sleeping form, Cora slowly pressed her hand into Emma's chest.

Emma woke with a start from the bitter cold that seeped through her veins, but the spell had taken effect—it all felt like a dream.

She could only stare, watching Regina slowly take her heart from her chest, feeling the magic building inside her, much like it had with Cora, until Regina brushed the hair that had fallen from her face and looked deep into her eyes.

Something sparked. Cora couldn't replicate her daughter's care considering she could barely stomach it, but she could call upon a love spell or two to mimic the effect. Nothing long term, just enough that Emma could sense, because with that gentle touch, Emma didn't want to hurt Regina, the way her heart had done on its own with Cora before. She wanted to let her have it.

Cora felt the release as it happened, Emma's love giving itself over to her, her hand moving out of the Savior's chest with no resistance as green eyes stared up at her in wonder.

Emma admired the figure above her. There was something off, something cold, but Regina had her heart, the organ glowing brightly in the dark room as Emma felt the gaping hole vividly in her chest.

The Savior's heart finally in her grasp, Cora smiled.

Knocking Emma firmly back into sleep with a final spell, she transported herself back to the ship as the blonde collapsed back in bed.

Reverting to her natural form through her purple fog, the golden heart in her hand flared in protest. Emma wouldn't be asleep for long, her magic instinctually pulling her heart to be reunited with her body, but it didn't matter now. This was the last step.

All that was left was to break her daughter. And kill the Dark One.

A/N: Dear Peanut Goddess, I hope you're not too disappointed. I had already written this, though I can certainly see where you're coming from...hopefully, the ends will justify the means!