The long awaited final chapters...

As she lathers shampoo in her baby's hair, Regina deliberates introducing a topic that had been weighing on her heart since she married the woman, seated next to the tub, nearly two months ago.

Though Emma's circumference made it impossible for her to participate in the nighttime ritual, she was determined to stay involved in her family's daily activities any way she could, deciding long ago that bonding with the people she loves is worth any temporary discomfort.

Without conscious effort, Regina releases a heavy sigh, inadvertently signaling her vigilant wife.

"You okay?"

Her tone full of remorse, Regina voices the prospect at the forefront to her awareness. "Emma, I think I should resign."

"Resign," Emma echoes to make sure that she had heard correctly. "But you love being mayor."

Regina carefully pours a cup of warm water, fresh from the tap, over her little girl's head while keeping her free hand over Charlie's eyes to shield her from stray suds.

"I love my family more."

Though she appreciates what her wife is trying to do, Emma can't shake the nagging feeling that Regina would be giving up such an important part of her identity.

Regina continues, "Now that you're back in my life, anything else that mattered to me before, other than our son, seems so trivial." Judging by her wife's expression, she recognizes the bluntness of her statement and changes her approach. "I don't want to spend anymore time being separated from you and Charlie if I don't have to." Upon hearing her name, the child's attention is piqued. Noticing this, Regina begins rubbing soft circles on her baby's back in silent acknowledgement. "And after the twins are born, I can't bear the thought of missing anything, because for the first time,"—she pauses to check her emotions—"we'll be doing it together."

"Well," Emma begins hesitantly, "if this is what you want…"

"Emma, this is your decision too. I won't resign unless it's right for both of us."

Emma reaches for Regina's wet hand, grasping it to communicate her support. "I just wouldn't want you to regret this decision."

Regina smiles in appreciation and shares a chaste kiss with her wife before readying the clean towel reserved for Charlie.

"No," the disappointed child whines. Charlie was never enthusiastic about getting out of the tub, even after the water had cooled, as she attempted to postpone the bedtime that would inevitably follow.

"No?" Emma mimics her daughter's pitiful tone. She had a great deal of experience combating Charlie's protests over the years and had learned how to earn her cooperation, rather than demand it. Her daughter was, after all, Regina's child and became hostile whenever presented with an ultimatum.

"I want to play."

Regina's heart swells with pride because of her articulate daughter's sweet request. "You can play for a few more minutes as long as you don't get your clean hair in the water."

"I won't," Charlie agrees. She was not about to repeat this mistake, anticipating that her mother would be adamant about washing her hair a second time, which is her least favorite part of taking a bath.

Returning to their conversation, Emma thinks for a moment. "If you resign, who would replace you?"

Regina knows there is no good answer to that question and sighs in defeat as she settles her weight on the tile floor, across from Emma. If the anticipated birth of her twins wasn't enough, this dilemma had been causing elevated levels of distress. As always, the person who had memorized the contents of her heart knows exactly what she needs to hear.

"I know what you had to overcome to get to this point and I couldn't be prouder of you." Emma continues, "All that you've done, even if your motives were questionable at times,"—understanding exactly to what her wife is referring, an involuntary giggle escapes Regina—"you've made life better for so many people, myself included, and created a town where I feel secure raising our family."

The queen remains immersed in thought, letting her wife's words affect her, until she is snapped out of her trance by a tiny voice.

"Look, Mommy, I'm a mermaid." This was one of Charlie's favorite tricks to show off. She would lie on her stomach and cross her legs at the ankles to imitate the silhouette of a fishtail.

Remembering that Regina has always held a less than tolerable opinion of the species, Emma sheepishly admits, "I haven't explained how that works yet." She could not have predicted what her wife would do next.

Regina leans over the tub and places a soft kiss on her happy child's forehead. "You can be anything you want, my baby."

Emma wonders if there will come a day when Regina ceases to surprise her. "Speaking of babies…"

Regina's features soften. "Are they awake?"

"Yep…and they are energetic." She rests her hand over the spot of activity, followed by Regina. "I didn't have caffeine tonight, did I?"

Not one to be left out, Charlie extends a tiny hand, dripping water on the floor in the process. "I want to feel!"

"Let's dry off this hand first." Regina quickly proceeds to wipe away the water droplets before Charlie has a chance to leave a hand-print on her mother's shirt. "We don't want to get Mommy wet."

Emma laughs at her wife's insistence. "This one's splashed me with much worse. Trust me."

Regina smirks as she recalls similar experiences with their son when he was a baby. "Yes, well, that does happen."

"But I'm ready to do it all over again."

Regina feels her hear skip a beat when she locks eyes with the mother of her children. Never in her life had she felt this way—this right, this loved. Overcome with emotion, she has to clear her throat before speaking. "Put your hand right here, sweetheart," she instructs, holding her daughter steady. "Do you feel your sisters?"

"They're saying, 'Hi Charlie,'" Emma relates enthusiastically. That last nonverbal exchange with Regina had left her tingling in all the right ways. As hoped, her excitement spreads to the little munchkin, who cheerfully greets her sisters.

"Hi babies!"

Any fears that the mothers' had at the beginning of Emma's pregnancy about breaking the news to their daughter that she would soon have little sisters were quickly vanquished by Charlie's love for and desire to protect the babies.

"I can't wait to meet them, so we can start calling them by their names," Regina remarks.

"Well, at least we've narrowed the list of possibilities."

"What do you think we should name your sisters?" Regina asks, encouraging her daughter to be part of the process.

"Cookie." Her matter-of-fact delivery is possibly the cutest thing Charlie's mothers have ever heard, if their reactions are any indication.

Delighted by her daughter's response, Regina strives to gain clarification. "Both of them?"

Charlie answers with a shy nod, as she eagerly awaits her blonde mother's approval.

Seeing this, Emma mimes serious consideration. "I don't know. I think that would limit their career options."

"Are you laughing at your mother?"

"I always know how to make this kid laugh."

Losing her balance, Charlie braces herself on her mother's protective arm, thanks to Regina's quick reaction.

Watching helplessly, Emma swears she nearly had a heart attack. Though her partner chose to be strong for their baby, she can tell that Regina's heart is nearly beating out of her chest.

They can only imagine what their child must be experiencing. She wasn't hurt, but noticeably shaken and begins to cry.

Regina attempts to console her startled child. "I've got you, sweetheart. You're okay." She kisses her baby until the tears subside. "That's why we shouldn't stand in the tub," she gently reminds. Thankfully, Charlie isn't upset about being corrected and nods.

"I think that's enough bath time for tonight, kiddo," Emma suggests. Lightening the mood, she adds, "We don't want you to turn into a prune."

Surrounded by a plethora of toys and with the aid of imagination, Charlie found countless ways to entertain herself in the bath. She was always too distracted to worry about the condition of her skin. But, under the circumstance, her mother makes a good point.

"No, we don't want that," Regina concurs, placing another soft kiss on her baby's cheek.

Emma hands her wife the assigned towel so Regina doesn't have to let go of their daughter, who feels much safer in her mother's proximity.

"I'm cold."

After toweling off her baby, Regina wraps her up similar to a burrito and cradles her close to her chest. "Is that better?"

"I'll get her pajamas," Emma volunteers and attempts to rise to a standing position. She is clearly in pain.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah." Her voice is strained. "My back's bothering me…probably because I've been sitting for so long."

"Why don't you go lie down?"

She admits defeat. "I probably should. Sorry, kiddo. It's time for me to go to bed." She kisses her little one's forehead. "I love you, baby girl."

Charlie manages to free an arm and waves to her departing mother. "Bye Mommy."

"It's almost your bedtime too."

After drying her child's hair, which appears to have grown a foot overnight, Regina is shocked by her curious child's innocent question.

"Is Mommy sick?"

"No, honey, Mommy's not sick." She tries to sound reassuring, though she is obviously upset by the prospect. "Her back hurts. But she'll feel much better after she's had some sleep." Hoping against hope that no sickness had befallen her wife, besides the effects of the pregnancy, Regina carries their sleepy baby to her room, tucking her under the covers. "Sweet dreams, my angel. I love you."

"I love you too."

After changing out of her wet yoga pants and into a dry tank-top, Regina sidles up behind Emma, who is facing the wall, and begins rubbing the younger woman's lower-back.

"Thank you," Emma mumbles. She doesn't know how she ever did this without Regina. Though her pain is not relieved immediately, Regina's touch lessens the intensity.

Regina is having an increasingly harder time ignoring the fact that she is scared to death, with her wife so close to delivery. Fortunately for her, Emma has the ability to read her mind.

"Everything's going to be all right, Regina."

"I know." She places a grateful kiss on her beloved's shoulder.

"I'm so tired."

Regina hugs her woman close. "You should try to sleep."

"But, I want to stay awake with you."

"I'll still be here in the morning," Regina reminds. "You need to sleep if you can."

As she starts to drift off, Emma repeats, "I love you."

"I love you, Emma."

7777777

Emma reads the time on the digital alarm clock on the night stand. 12:25, it displays. After trying in vain, for the past few hours, to achieve a substantial amount of sleep, she decides a walk might help and she definitely needed to pee. When she tries to move there is a sudden, and all-too-familiar, wave of pain. She tries again, hoping that was just a fluke.

"Regina."

Though she is certain that she barely made a sound, her partner had become a very light sleeper as of late and woke with a start the instant she detected that something was amiss.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

Instinctively, Emma locates her wife's hand.

"Emma?" Regina is more than a little bit alarmed by the forceful grasp.

Emma waits for the wave to pass before speaking. "I need to go to the hospital."

Though not unexpected, that phrase spoken by the woman she loves temporarily paralyzes Regina. "Is it time?"

"I think so."

She jolts out of bed, throwing on the jeans she kept nearby, just in case this should happen. Dr. Whale had warned when Emma went into labor, Regina would most likely experience an enormous amount of pressure, so great that she would not be able to use magic effectively. Though she had relied on her wits for years before her magic returned, all rational thought failed as she watches her wife struggle to catch her breath. The queen is left with only basic human instinct that propels her to the opposite side of the bed in order to console her beloved.

Relaxing in her wife's touch, Emma makes a shameful admission. "I waited too long."

Saddened by Emma's apologetic tone, Regina places an affirming kiss on her wife's forehead, letting her lips linger momentarily. In that kiss she communicates her unconditional love, unwavering support, and endless devotion. Though she is extremely uncomfortable with the idea of letting go of her woman, even for a second, in Emma's time of need, she knows what she must do. "I'm going to wake Henry." Muscles trembling and palms sweating, she locates her son's closed door in the darkened hallway. Under the circumstance, she pushes it open without bothering to knock. "Henry." Having successfully startled the teenager awake, she announces, "We need to get your mother to the hospital." Before returning to the master bedroom, she adds, "But first I need you to call your grandparents."

Having rehearsed this scenario in his mind countless times, Henry dials the number, placing the call on speaker so he can effectively put on his pants.

"Hello," a drowsy voice answers.

"Grandma?"

"Henry." Mary Margaret is becomes more alert, imagining the reason for the late night call. "Did Emma go into labor?"

"I think so."

"Ask her if she can come by and pick up Charlie," Regina calls from her bedroom.

Apparently, waking a sleeping four-year-old is the least of his mother's worries.

Though she hadn't been able to distinguish what the background voice that she assumed was Regina's had requested, Mary Margaret offers, "Do you need us to come to the house?"

"Yeah, Mom just asked if you could pick up Charlie."

"We'll be right over." Before hanging up, maternal instinct interrupts. "Are you all right?"

Even at the age of eighteen, though Henry is technically considered an adult, he isn't surprised by his sensitive grandmother's concern and answers confidently. "I just want to get Mom to the hospital." He can practically hear the woman's smile.

"I love you, Henry."

"I love you too." Locating his discarded jeans and throwing on a t-shirt—it's inside out, but there is no time for correction—he briskly makes his way down the hall to his parent's bedroom, where his mother is in the middle of coaching Emma through an extremely painful contraction. He understands that seeing Emma in this state tears his mother apart and he is determined to be strong for her. "Grandma and Grandpa are on their way over."

Regina feels Emma's grip tighten. It's not another contraction. This is more of a silent plea.

"Are you ready Emma?"

She nods. "I think so." She shifts her weight to the edge of the bed, steadying herself in her lover's protective embrace. Though the instant she tries to stand, Emma recognizes her mistake. "No, I can't." Fresh tears spring from tired eyes. "Regina," she wines.

Her beloved's appeal feels uncannily like a knife through Regina's heart. Not knowing what else to do, she reminds, "I'm here, Emma." Taking charge of the scary situation, she persists, "Honey, we need to get you to the car."

Henry follows his brunette mother's lead and crouches in order to hook his blonde mother's arm around his neck. "I've got you, Mom, just lean on me."

"That's it," Regina encourages, when Emma takes the first step. "Nice and easy…"

Now facing the doorway, mothers and son detect a tiny figure watching them.

"Mommy?"

Emma smiles nervously, trying to ignore her trembling legs.

"We're taking your mother to the hospital," Regina informs, attempting to disguise any panic in her tone. "It's time for the babies to be born." She notices her son buckle. "Henry…?"

"I'm okay," he lies. He is actually frightened beyond comprehension.

Emma continues to slowly shuffle her feet across the floor. Having only made it halfway across the room, another wave hits. "Regina, I have to stop."

"Mom…?" In this moment the young adult, charged with his mother's care, is reduced to a terrified child.

"It's all right, honey," Regina assures, "It's just another contraction." She is surprised by her ability to remain calm under the circumstance. Then again, there will never come a time when she stops being a parent. She will always be strong for her children and the woman she loves. "I've got you, Emma. Just breathe…"

"Oh no." In present company, Emma substituted a G-rated word for her R-rated preference.

Henry is the first to voice his curiosity. "What happened?"

"Mommy peed," Charlie observes. The little girl's brunette mother and brother exchange knowing looks.

"It's all right, honey," Regina guarantees.

"Regina, I can't…I can't make it."

Catching her son's eyes, Regina instructs. "We need to get your mother back into bed."

As difficult as it is for Henry to hide his fear from the two women who have sworn to protect him, Henry is resolute in instilling confidence in his blonde mother. "Hang on, Mom."

Unable to determine whether she is more frustrated with herself or the situation in general, Emma begins to weep. "I'm sorry."

It didn't matter what Regina was feeling in that moment. Her reason for living needed her. "There is nothing to be sorry for." She kisses the weakened woman. "This is not your fault."

Tears obscuring her vision, Emma projects the worst. "What's going to happen to them?"

"Nothing," Regina replies with unyielding composure and absolution.

As much as Emma wants to believe that nothing bad would happen to her babies, she searches her partner's eyes for some security.

Regina elaborates. "I'm taking care of them and you."

The queen is filled with premature relief when she hears the front door close downstairs, followed by a familiar voice.

"Regina?" Mary Margaret calls.

"We're up here." Her words are quickly followed by two sets of footsteps rapidly ascending the staircase. No time for pleasantries she decides. Upon first glimpse of her father-in-law Regina informs, "We need to get her back to bed."

"Dad…"

Mom instincts activated, Snow White scoops up her frightened granddaughter, consoling her as she carries the crying child down the winding staircase, away from the drama involving the birth of her sisters.

David confidently relieves mother and son of the near impossible task, carefully and effortlessly scooping his very pregnant daughter into his arms. "Just hold on to me, Emma. I've got you."

Over the years, David had done a great deal to earn Regina's respect, but it isn't until this instance that she feels unbridled admiration for David. He had certainly earned the title of Charming.

As soon as her head hits the pillow, Emma warns, "I'm going to be sick."

That's the only cue Regina required. Not a second too soon, the queen is behind her princess, gathering blonde hairs out of the path of vomit and supporting Emma's weight as David quickly turns her onto her side.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," David whispers. As acting sheriff, almost nothing surprises him anymore; which is probably why he didn't even flinch when his daughter threw up all over his shoes.

Too afraid to let go of her trembling wife, Regina has to snap herself out of her helpless trance. She can only manage so much. The fear is relentless, causing her voice to crack when she tries to speak.

"Henry, dial 9-1-1."

As she struggles to catch her breath, Regina hears her favorite voice utter her name.

"Regina…"

She gently wraps an arm around her wife's neck, in order to bring the woman who will always be the only magic she needs some comfort. "I'm here, Emma."

"Mom,"— Henry's voice is full of apology—"they want to talk to you."

Seeing that her father-in-law has the situation under control Regina rises from her reclined position and accepts the interrupting device. She does her best to remove any irritation from her voice before speaking. It is not the dispatcher's fault that her family finds themselves in this predicament. "This is Regina Mills," she begins calmly. "My wife is in labor…Emma Swan Mills. She's almost thirty-six weeks. I'm not sure when they started…we were asleep." Joining David on the opposite side of the bed, she grasps Emma's free hand. When she feels her wife's grip tighten, she answers, "They seem to be less than a minute apart now." Her expression changes to one of mortification when the dispatcher asks a sensitive question. "I don't know." Nervously, she surveys the room. Thankfully, her father-in-law comprehends the unspoken request when their eyes meet.

"Henry, why don't we go downstairs and check on your sister." He kisses his daughter's forehead before departing, only content to leave because Emma is with the one person besides himself who would never let anything happen to his princess.

"David, can you ask Snow to come up here?"

"I will."

As soon as the expectant couple is alone, Regina informs her wife of what she is about to do so as not to startle the already sensitive woman. "Honey, I need to see where we are…" She waits for Emma to nod her consent before removing the saturated underwear. Having gained the needed information, she promptly covers her wife's bottom half with a sheet before recovering the phone. As she relays what she had witnessed, another mother enters the room.

"Mom…"

"I right here, baby." Trading places with Regina, Mary Margaret grasps her daughter's hand, bringing the woman, who will always be her little girl, through the contraction.

"I waited too long," Emma laments.

"You did nothing wrong." As she strokes her girl' face, she reassures, "You didn't know."

It is unsettlingly clear how much the next admission pains Emma. "I can't lose them."

"You won't," Mary Margaret promises. "I won't let that happen." She kisses her girl's forehead, suddenly alarmed by the heat hitting her lips. "I'm going to get you a cold washcloth."

There was never a time when Emma needed this woman more. She is still learning how a mother has the power to inspire unshakable confidence in a time of greatest uncertainty. "What if the ambulance doesn't make it in time?"

With no time for deliberation, Snow White answers confidently, "Then I'll deliver them myself," as she pats her daughter's face with the calming cloth.

Any shred of doubt that Emma had vanishes that instant, until mother and daughter register Regina's escalating agitation.

"I don't know. Please, someone, help my wife!"

Thankfully for Regina, her level-headed mother-in-law intervenes. "Hello, this is Mary Margaret Blanchard. Yes, she's my daughter. Yes." She disappears into the bathroom once again.

"I'm sorry, Regina."

"No. No, honey, this isn't your fault." She kisses the hand cradled in her own repeatedly. If the only thing she can do right now is restore confidence in her wife, then she is going to do that to the best of her ability. "I love you."

"I love you too."

When Mary Margaret returns, her expression is one of renewed determination. She sets the phone on the night stand and immediately locks eyes with her daughter-in-law.

Understanding what remains unsaid, Regina nods her consent.

"We're going to get you through this, Emma," her mother promises.

"Just take care of them."