A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update! I was debating how to do this next chapter, and every time I actually had some good inspiration for it, there was something else that needed to be finished instead! Anyway, I know I shouldn't say this because it's sort of like putting my work down, but I still don't think I got this quite right. The relationship between Emma and Regina in the beginning is extremely complex and difficult to capture.

Emma sat in silence for a long while, studying Regina. Besides her shorter hair, there was nothing immediately different between past and present (present and future?) Reginas, but there was also something immensely different between them. Perhaps it was the hurt and pain burning deep, almost unrecognizably, in this Regina's eyes. Emma had never believed that Regina truly enjoyed hurting people; Regina simply enjoyed distracting herself from reality. Knowing other people are as miserable as you are is a nice respite from your own pain.

Emma couldn't blame her for being the Evil Queen.

Regina blinked back at her sleepily, taking no precautions to conceal the irritation written on her face and conveyed in her posture. Hurt in the past or not, Regina was not a force to be reckoned with. The brunette pursed her lips, and by the way she was swaying slowly to and fro in the doorway, Emma could tell that both Regina's patience and Regina's awake-ness were dwindling quickly.

"I know who you named Henry after," Emma blurted suddenly, not wanting to lose her window to talk.

The brunette gave the blonde such a large eye roll that it seemed to lurch her tired body backwards. Emma launched herself off the couch, reaching for Regina before she fell, but Regina had already braced herself against the doorway and masked the surprise on her face. Emma sat back down.

Regina turned her eyes to the blonde, malice mixed in with chocolate brown irises. "Miss Swan, the whole town knows this," she said, her upper lip lifted up in a very un-smug, very foul smirk.

Emma instinctively leaned back in her chair, away from the infuriated woman. Though they were only words of frustration, the Evil Queen's words slithered over her like a bitter, teasing breeze.

Emma ran her tongue over her teeth and tugged at a stray thread on the couch, trying to ignore the slight fear Regina had managed to ignite in her. "It was your father," Emma said gently, yet hurriedly, without looking up. "You had a choice to make, and you made it." Emma knew Regina would know what she was talking about.

Regina lowered herself onto the chair by the door, one arm still clutching the frame. Her face shifted from angry to bruised, bruised and broken and pained and wounded in a way Emma had never seen before. Emma looked up, knees tucked underneath her, and could almost see the flashback that was playing behind Regina's eyes, the emotions flickering across Regina's face like a silent movie, and suddenly all Emma could feel was regret. She regretted dragging Regina into her own problems. She regretted making this woman feel more pain, regardless of how much Regina had inflicted on others. She regretted thinking that the still-evil queen could fix all her problems, when in reality she still had her own demons to deal with.

"He took a bullet for me," Regina said quietly, to no one, to the silence filling the room. "In a way, I'm only here because he's not."

Emma still hadn't been able to figure out what sort of a reality she had entered into, so she was unsure whether Regina's statement was literal or figurative. However, before she could figure this out, Regina abruptly stood up, brushing nonexistent dust off of her silk pajamas. Her face was rigid once more.

"I think it's time for you to go, Miss Swan," she said.

Emma said nothing. She got to her feet silently and followed Regina down the staircase.

When Regina shut the door behind Emma, Emma looked up and noticed a little face disappearing from his upstairs bedroom window.