The rain pounded against the windows of Regina's car as soon as Emma slid into the passenger seat. A soft sigh escaped Emma's lips, her eyes narrowing as she watched the droplets race each other. "Huh, lucky," she muttered under her breath. Turning her gaze to the sleeping child in the backseat, she hesitated, then asked, "So, uh... does she have a name?" Her voice was quiet and curious, darting a glance at Regina.
Regina shot her a pointed look, her lips pressed together in a tight line. "Miss Swan, I've just met my daughter," she replied, her tone calm but firm. "Mind you, the daughter I never knew I had." Her eyes softened as she glanced at the girl, still asleep and oblivious to the conversation. "I'll wait until she wakes up before we start on that one."
Emma's brow arched in silent disbelief. "We're back to Miss Swan, then?"
"Until I get an apology for the cuffs and being locked in my room, yes. We're back to that," Regina replied dryly, her fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel as she started the car and flicked on the windshield wipers.
Emma huffed, shifting in her seat as she crossed her arms. "It was for your own good, Gina! You know that. Besides, I thought you liked being cuffed in your bedroom." She gave Regina's thigh a playful squeeze, but Regina only sighed in response.
"Under different circumstances, sweetheart," Regina muttered, her eyes briefly flickering to Emma. "I love you, but you've got to work on your timing and delivery."
Three minutes later, they were back at the hospital.
Emma looked over her shoulder at the girl in the back. "Are we allowed to leave her in the car?"
"Allowed to?" Regina nearly laughed, shaking her head. "Emma, are you insane?" With a flick of her wrist, she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car. She opened the back door and carefully lifted the sleeping girl into her arms.
"Okay, Momma bear," Emma teased, locking the car with a gentle click. "No need to fight me."
xxx
"Are you really my momma?" The voice, small and fragile, pierced through the quiet hospital room. The girl was still nestled in Regina's arms, her face turned upward, eyes wide and filled with a mixture of wonder and uncertainty.
Regina held her a little tighter, pressing her lips to the top of the child's head. "Yes, baby," she whispered softly, her heart swelling in ways she hadn't imagined. "I am."
Emma, standing beside Regina, couldn't help but smile at the sight of them. But then she pouted, looking at Regina with playful annoyance. "Hey, that's my kiss."
Regina squeezed Emma's hand gently, pulling her closer, and pressed a quick, tender kiss to her lips. "Happy now?" she asked with a knowing smile.
Emma nodded, tapping Regina's nose lightly. "Yup."
Before Regina could respond, a knock on the door interrupted them. Snow peeked inside; her smile warm as she stepped in with David close behind. "Coffee," she said with a cheerful grin, handing a cup to Regina. When she gave one to Emma, her grip lingered for just a moment. "Emma," she said, her voice softening, her brow furrowing. "How are you holding up?"
Emma straightened, unwilling to let the weight of everything overwhelm her. She gave Snow a reassuring look, pushing down the rush of emotions. "I'm fine, Mom. Really. Everything's going to be okay. We'll figure it out. We always do."
A high-pitched voice, one filled with unmistakable bitterness, sliced through the air. "Do you?"
All eyes snapped toward Henry. Without a flinch, he ripped the IV from his arm and tore himself free.
"Or is it our Queen who fixes everything around here?" His voice oozed sarcasm as he cracked his back, then shifted, his body wriggling unnaturally before it became Cora.
Emma moved without thinking, stepping forward, her hand reaching for Cora's arm. "Henry," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Listen to me. We're all here for you. You need to be strong. Fight this." Her eyes locked onto Cora's, filled with unspoken pain.
But Cora, ignoring her entirely, locked her gaze on Regina. "Of all people, you chose to bed Miss Swan?" Her lips curled into a sneer. "I'm sure you could've done better, darling."
Regina stiffened, holding the girl in her arms a little tighter as she backed away toward the door.
Before she could get far, David moved, stepping between Cora and Regina. "Cora, please," he said, his voice laced with exhaustion. "This isn't your battle either. Henry is your grandson too."
Cora's gaze turned dark, and she reached for David's chest, her fingers digging into him as though she intended to rip his heart out. But when she pulled away, confused, she glared at Regina instead.
"Our hearts are protected," Regina spat back, a low growl in her throat.
Cora's eyes narrowed as she stepped closer to Regina, seeing the child once more. "Princess Azura," she purred, her fingers twitching as she reached out toward the girl's face. Regina instinctively pulled back, shielding the child from the older woman's touch.
The unmistakable sound of Gold's walking stick echoed down the hall, growing louder with each step. "Cora," his voice was firm. "Get out of my grandson."
Cora's expression flickered between amusement and annoyance. "Give me a break," she muttered, her gaze now shifting toward Gold.
With that, Cora surged forward, her electric magic crackling in the air as she tried to coil it around Gold. But Regina was faster. In a flash, she pressed the girl's head more firmly to her shoulder and, with a swift motion, threw Cora into the wall with a force that made the entire room shudder.
Cora let out a gasp of surprise, crumpling to the ground. The transformation was quick; Henry's voice returned, raw and desperate as he writhed in pain.
Snow, moving with surprising speed, pulled Azura from Regina's arms, allowing her to rush to her son's side. Emma and Regina were there in an instant.
"Kid," Emma said, her voice a mixture between frustration and worry, as she carefully helped Henry back onto the bed. "You'll be okay." She glanced over her shoulder, calling for a nurse.
"I'll take Azura," Snow said, her voice soft but reassuring, as she left the room.
David grabbed a chair and placed it beside Gold. He offered a resigned sigh, rubbing his face.
"I warned you about this, Regina," Gold spat, his eyes narrowed.
Regina didn't flinch. "What was I supposed to do? I just got here."
Gold didn't argue. She had a point. They had only left his shop a mere twenty minutes ago.
David ran a hand over his face and stood beside Emma. "We don't have time for bickering," he muttered, offering Emma a reassuring touch on her shoulder.
As the nurse stepped into the room, Henry began gasping for breath. She pounded on a red emergency button and backed the family out of the room. Another two nurses came running in, closing the door behind them.
Emma gripped onto Regina tightly, not saying anything but frozen in the moment.
After what felt like ages, the door reopened and they were allowed in again. The nurse gestured to the oxygen mask then looked at Regina and Emma, "Your son suffered a respiratory attack. I've set up the ventilator machine."
They approached his bed with caution. Conversation swirled with potential solutions; each suggestion heavier than the last.
"If I use the cuff on him, wouldn't it stop any sort of magic?" Emma asked, a thought forming.
"Ever so ready to use that damned forsaken thing, huh?" Regina quipped.
Gold turned to consider it. "Smarter than we give you credit for, Swan. However, his physical form will eventually break down. The connection to the Underworld is what's keeping him alive."
Regina's voice was low, almost like a whisper. "How long would he have if we used it?"
"Less than an hour," Gold said, his eyes filled with a sadness that was almost foreign to him. "Maybe less if we don't. Sometimes... heroes lose. We just have to accept that."
Emma shot him a look of defiance. "We did not lose, and we are not giving up."
When the nurse left, Gold stood and walked toward Henry's bed, placing a hand gently on the boy's hair. He sighed deeply, almost wistfully. "We need to talk about our options."
With that, he turned and exited the room without another word.
Emma's eyes were wide with a desperate need for something more. David caught her gaze, his own filled with concern as he took his place beside Henry.
Regina and Emma followed Gold into the cafeteria, both bracing for the worst.
Gold wasted no time. He placed a cup into the coffee machine and fished for coins in his pocket. "Option one," he began flatly, his voice detached. "Take him off life support and let him die."
The women waited, but the silence stretched on. Gold did not continue.
"Options?" Emma asked, her voice trembling with disbelief. "You said options, as in plural."
Gold's gaze was empty, as though he had already resigned himself to the inevitable. "Two. Use the cuff, let him suffer to his death. The first option allows for a painless death, and the second - he will suffer." He looked at Regina, his eyes flickering with something akin to guilt. "As for the third option... well, I didn't actually think there'd be more than two."
Regina's voice cracked with a raw, pained disbelief. "You can't be serious."
"I'm sorry, dearie," Gold muttered, his eyes downcast. "We don't have any other choices. The longer we wait, the harder the decision becomes, and Henry's suffering grows."
Emma, handing him his coffee, looked him square in the eyes. "We're not giving up. We'll find another way."
Gold nodded but said nothing more. As he left the cafeteria, his shoulders slumped, the weight of everything pressing down on him. "He is my grandson," he muttered, almost to himself, before disappearing from sight.
Emma and Regina stood there for a moment. Emma watched Gold leave, his steps slow and weighed down, and then turned to Regina, her eyes filled with determination.
"He's wrong, you know," Emma said quietly, her voice low. "We can't just give up on the kid."
Regina didn't respond immediately, her thoughts swirling. She glanced at the door where Gold had exited, then back at Emma. "I know," she said, her voice a little rougher than usual. "But right now, we're running out of time. We can't afford to make the wrong decision."
Emma stepped closer, her hand finding Regina's once again. "We won't."
Regina squeezed her hand tightly, finding a bit of comfort in the words. "I just—" She paused, struggling to keep her emotions in check. "I just got him back, Emma. I can't lose him again."
Emma's heart tightened. She wanted to say something to reassure Regina, but the words didn't come. She knew exactly how she felt—how it felt to hold onto hope when everything seemed to be falling apart.
"He's strong," Emma said finally, her voice soft, almost to herself. "Henry will make it through. We can't lose hope, not now."
Regina nodded, her gaze turning toward the hallway. The weight of everything seemed to settle on her shoulders again. "I have to stay strong for him."
Emma gave her a soft, understanding smile as silence fell over them.
Back in the hospital room, Henry was still in pain, his face contorted as the nurse returned to check his vitals. He kept his eyes closed, trying to block out the agony, but his body betrayed him every time he moved.
Regina and Emma returned just as the nurse finished adjusting the IV line. Emma immediately took her place by Henry's side, her eyes soft but full of resolve.
"How's he doing?" she asked, her voice steady despite the panic threatening to rise.
The nurse gave her a sympathetic look, adjusting the blanket over Henry. "He's stable for now, but we're not sure how much longer his body can keep fighting this. We'll do what we can, but..." She trailed off, unsure of how to finish.
"I know," Emma said quietly, her hand brushing over Henry's arm.
The nurse left the room, giving them some space. Emma turned her focus back to Henry, and Regina followed suit, her expression one of quiet determination.
"Hey, kid," Emma murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're not getting off that easy. We've still got a fight ahead of us."
Henry didn't respond, but the faintest movement in his fingers told Emma that he heard her. She leaned in closer, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "We're not giving up on you, not now, not ever."
Regina, standing at her side, reached down and gently placed her hand on Henry's. Her gaze softened as she studied his pale face. "You're going to pull through this," she said quietly, almost as if trying to convince herself as much as him.
Emma looked up at Regina, her eyes meeting hers. "We'll make sure of it."
David walked over to Henry's bedside. He glanced at Regina, who was still holding Henry's hand with a gentle, almost protective grip. "What did Gold have to say? Any solid solutions?"
Regina shook her head. "Nothing. He gave us two options—neither of them good. Either we take him off life support, or we use the cuff and let him die slowly and painfully. Neither feels like a choice."
Emma's eyes darkened at the thought. "There's got to be something else."
David sighed deeply, pulling up a chair beside the bed. "We need to be realistic, Emma. Time's not on our side. We need to make a decision soon."
Emma felt her heart pounding in her chest as she looked between him, Regina, and Henry.
"Does it really have to be one of those two?" Emma asked, her voice rising just slightly with frustration. "There has to be a third option. There always is."
Regina stepped back slightly, her eyes closing as she took a deep breath. "We can't afford to waste time thinking there's some magic cure out there."
Just then, Snow returned, her face pale but determined, with Azura in her arms. The little girl was still sleeping soundly, her tiny form nestled in Snow's embrace.
Regina turned to her, her eyes softening. "How is she?" she asked, her voice quieter now, as if afraid to wake the child.
Snow nodded gently. "She's fine for now. Still in and out of sleep. But I think we need to keep her safe, away from all this chaos."
Regina nodded, her protective instincts kicking in as she watched her daughter. "I agree."
As Snow exited the room with Azura, David and Gold, silence fell over the room. The sterile beep of the machines had softened to a faint pulse, barely audible, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Henry lay unconscious in the bed, connected to the life support, his chest rising and falling slowly, too slowly. Regina and Emma stood beside him, their hands gently resting on his, their hearts breaking with each moment that passed.
Regina was the first to speak, her voice a whisper, as though afraid that if she spoke too loudly, she might break the fragile moment they had left with him. "Henry… I never thought this day would come. You were supposed to be the hero, the one who saved everyone. I always thought you'd be the one to fix things. To save us."
Her voice faltered, and for a moment, she had to swallow back the tears threatening to fall. Her fingers tightened around his hand, as if willing him to wake up, to speak, to give them one more chance.
Emma's voice broke the silence next, softer than usual, full of raw emotion. "I keep thinking that there's some way, some magic we haven't tried yet. That this isn't real. That you're going to open your eyes, Henry, and tell us we're crazy for thinking it's over. But it's not just you who's been fighting, kid. We've been fighting too. We've been fighting with you."
She ran a thumb along his knuckles, tracing the faint scars on his hand—the marks of someone who had always fought for what was right. "But maybe it's time to stop fighting and let go… Maybe it's time you get the peace you deserve."
The words hung in the air, heavy and full of finality, but it wasn't just silence that filled the room. There was something—something they couldn't explain.
And then, faintly, there was a shift.
Henry's eyelids fluttered.
It was almost imperceptible at first, a subtle change, but it was there. His breathing grew steadier, and when his eyes opened, they were clouded with confusion and pain, but beneath it—something else. Recognition. A glimmer of awareness.
"Mom?" His voice was weak, barely more than a rasp. His gaze flickered between Regina and Emma, struggling to focus, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored their own.
Regina leaned forward, her heart hammering in her chest. "Henry… You're awake," she whispered, as though saying it louder might make it more real.
He nodded faintly, his hand squeezing hers in return, but his expression was pained. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't want to leave you like this. I never should have taken those drugs, I'm sorry, Mom." His voice cracked, and the tears in Regina's eyes finally broke free.
"You don't have to apologize," she said, her voice shaking as she cupped his face gently. "You're strong. You've done everything you could. We just—we wanted more time with you." She bit back a sob. "I wanted to be the mother you deserved. And I'm sorry for not."
Emma's throat tightened, but she couldn't keep herself from speaking. "We all wanted more time. We've been through so much together, Henry. You were always the glue that held us together." Her voice broke, but she forced herself to continue. "I—I don't know what to do without you, kid."
Henry's hand squeezed hers again, weaker now, but still there. His eyes met hers, and in that moment, they both understood something they hadn't been able to say aloud—how much they needed each other, how much they had always needed him.
"I'm not leaving you," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. "I'll always be with you. Even if… even if I'm not here." His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and his eyes flickered between them, as if seeing them both clearly for the first time.
Regina pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. "You'll never leave us. You'll always be with us, Henry. You are a part of us."
Emma stepped closer, kneeling at his side. "We'll carry you with us," she promised, her hand resting on his, their fingers intertwined. "We're going to be okay. I don't know how yet, but we will. And you'll be with us, in everything we do. In everything we fight for."
Henry's lips parted in a faint smile, the ghost of his old self. "I know," he whispered. "I know you will."
Regina closed her eyes, pressing a final kiss to his forehead. "We love you, Henry. Always."
The machines beeped softer now, a slow and steady rhythm, as if the world was gently letting go.
Henry's eyes fluttered one last time, and he let out a small, contented breath as though finally finding peace. His grip on their hands loosened, but for a moment, there was a fleeting sense of connection, a bond that would never break.
And then, quietly, the room was still.
The nurse came in silently, switching off the ventilator, and leaving once again to give the family a last moment together. Emma and Regina didn't speak, their hands still intertwined as they stayed by Henry's side. They didn't need words anymore. The understanding between them—between all three of them—was enough.
Henry had spoken his peace. He had said goodbye.
xxx
The funeral was small, intimate. There were no grand speeches, no large crowd. Just family. Just the people who loved Henry, who knew him for who he truly was. The sky was overcast, the rain falling softly as they gathered at the grave site.
Snow, David, and Gold stood behind them, each in their own way honouring Henry's memory. But it was Regina and Emma who stepped forward first, side by side, their hands intertwined in a silent show of support, of love. Regina set Azura to the ground but kept their hands clasped.
Regina spoke first, her voice strong despite the tears. "He was my son. And he was everything I never knew I needed. He was brave, he was kind, and he always believed in the best in people—even when they couldn't see it in themselves. He made me believe in hope again. I will carry him with me, always."
Emma stood beside her, squeezing her hand. "I never thought I'd get to be part of this family, part of this incredible boy's life. But I was, and I'll never forget it. Henry gave me so much… and I'll keep fighting. For him. For us."
As they lowered Henry's coffin into the ground, the rain began to fall harder, as if the world itself was grieving with them.
Regina and Emma stood together, staring down at the grave.
"Thank you," Regina whispered. "Thank you for showing us what love truly means, Henry."
Emma pulled her close, "We'll never forget you, kid. You'll always be a part of us. Always."
And in that moment, they both knew—he would never truly leave them.
Azura gently tugged on Regina's black dress, pulling Regina out of her thoughts. "Henry?"
Regina bent down to Azura's height, unable to answer. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.
Emma lay her hand on Reginas shoulder. Regina glanced up at her, then back at Azura. "I can tell you all about him, sweetheart. For now, though, would you be okay going home with Snow?"
Emma watched the little girl nod and walk over to Snow, who waved them off with a sad smile.
Turning back to face Regina, who was now standing, Emma pulled her body close. She didn't have words to offer Regina. Not this time. She couldn't find anything that would make this better.
xxx
The drive back to Snow's apartment felt different. After everything—after losing Henry, after the grief and the pain—they were bringing someone home. Someone small, someone who needed them. Regina's heart ached, but there was a flicker of hope in her chest – It was soft and fragile, and it made her feel like maybe, just maybe, this was a step toward healing.
Emma glanced over at Regina, her hand resting on her knee. "The past couple of hours have been hell."
Regina nodded, her eyes focused on the road ahead. "Right? Nothing will be the same without him."
"I've never gotten around to thanking you, Regina. I don't know but-" Emma paused, she tried to find the right way to express how she felt, "You've done an excellent job raising Henry. And now, we have little Azura waiting for us - Are you ready?"
"I don't think we'd ever be ready," Regina said, her voice soft. "Whenever we feel like we've got a grip on things, rest assured, our lives would be turned upside down."
The car slowed as they pulled into the parking space outside Snow's apartment. Regina's heart beat a little faster, her hands tightening on the steering wheel as she thought about the little girl waiting inside. Azura—She is her daughter.
"She's been through so much," Emma said, her tone heavy. "I don't know if we're ready to give her the life she deserves, Gina."
"We'll learn," Regina replied, her voice full of determination. "Just like we both did with Henry."
As they walked up the stairs to Snow's apartment, Regina found her mind wandering back to that first moment she'd held Azura, the overwhelming sense of love and responsibility that had hit her all at once. She was her mother now. She would protect her. She would be everything Azura needed, just like she had tried to be for Henry. She felt a pang in her heart, slowing her down.
Emma intertwined their hands and pulled Regina into the corner of the hallway. She gently nudged Regina against the wall. Emma kissed her. A soft, slow and reassuring kiss. "I know, baby. It's gonna be difficult. Especially with the fact that Henry isn't here." Her eyes became teary again. "But he would've wanted us to be the best we can be."
Regina was in tears now. She sobbed until her body couldn't hold her. She slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Emma followed, sitting beside her. She wrapped her arms around Regina, pulling her closer and allowing her to cry.
xxx
They reached the door, and before Regina could knock, Snow opened it, smiling softy.
"She's in the living room," Snow said quietly, stepping aside to let them in.
Inside, Azura was sitting on the couch, her little legs dangling off the edge, a colouring book in her lap. She looked up when they entered, her eyes wide with curiosity, but there was no fear. Just the same quiet wonder that had drawn Regina to her the moment they first met.
Regina knelt in front of her, gently brushing a strand of hair from the girl's face. "Hey there, sweet girl," she said warmly.
Azura blinked, as if trying to place them, her small fingers clutching the crayon tightly. "Mama?" she asked hesitantly, her voice high and innocent.
Regina's heart clenched at the word. There it was, again. "Yes, sweetheart," she whispered, "Mama's here."
Azura's face broke into a tentative smile, and she reached out, her small hand gently touching Regina's cheek. "Mama," she repeated, more confidently this time.
Emma stood behind Regina, watching the exchange, her heart full as she took in the moment. She had known this was coming, but seeing it—the way Regina's face softened as Azura reached for her—it was more real than anything else.
Regina looked up at Emma, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "She's ours," she whispered.
Emma nodded, her own voice thick with emotion. "She's ours," she repeated, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
"Are we going home?" Azura asked, her voice quiet but full of hope.
Regina smiled, her heart swelling with love. "Yes, sweetie. We're going home. You're coming with us now. You're safe."
Azura's face lit up with excitement, her eyes shining as she hopped off the couch and ran over to Regina, holding her arms out to be picked up. Regina's arms instinctively wrapped around her, lifting her into her embrace with the ease of someone who had been doing it for years.
Emma stepped forward, brushing a hand through Azura's hair. "Ready to see your new home, kiddo?"
Azura nodded eagerly, resting her head against Regina's shoulder. "I'm ready, Mama."
The drive home was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable. There was a sense of peace in the car, a sense that this was right, that everything had led them to this moment. The air in the car was still, but Regina could feel a change deep in her chest. This was where they were supposed to be. Azura, who had been through so much, was finally home.
When they arrived at the house, Regina opened the door, and Azura's eyes widened as she looked around. The house was warm and inviting, the lights soft, the air filled with the scent of fresh flowers and clean linens. It felt like a home. Their home.
Azura tugged on Regina's sleeve, her voice filled with wonder. "This is my home?"
Regina crouched down to her level, her heart swelling as she nodded. "Yes, sweetheart. This is your home. You're safe here, always."
Azura's face lit up as she looked around again, her eyes sparkling. "I like it," she said with a grin. "I like it a lot."
Emma smiled as she watched them, her heart full of a love she hadn't known she could feel. She joined them, kneeling beside Regina. "Azura," she said softly. "We're here, and we're never leaving you."
Regina gave her opened palm to Azura, "Come, let's get ready for bed."
On the ascent, Emma stopped midway, gripping the balustrades.
"Swan?" Regina paused on the last step, giving Emma a questioning look.
Emma shook her head, "I think I should prepare dinner."
Regina gave her sorrowful, puppy eyes, pleading non-verbally for Emma not to leave her alone with the child. She knew her mind would wander off to Henry.
Emma gave her a small smile in return, nodding her head slightly.
"First things first, a nice warm bath." Regina said once she got to the bathroom.
Regina turned the taps, letting warm water fill the tub as she helped Azura out of her shoes and tiny sweater. The child stood there, watching the steam rise, her small hands gripping the hem of her shirt but not moving to take it off.
Regina knelt in front of her, gentle but careful. "Sweetheart, let's get you cleaned up," she said softly.
Azura didn't move. She stared at the water, her body tense, her breath suddenly shallow.
Regina frowned. "Azura?"
The little girl's hands trembled as she finally lifted them, but she didn't reach for her clothes. Instead, she clutched her arms tightly around herself, shaking her head.
Regina's heart cracked at the sight. Of course. She had spent the last three years in the Underworld, a place cold and cruel, where safety was an illusion and kindness a forgotten concept. Who knew the last time she had a real bath—if she had one at all? Had she been left in the filth of her suffering? Had water been a punishment instead of comfort?
Regina swallowed the ache rising in her throat. She reached out but didn't touch, letting Azura see that she was safe. "It's okay, sweetheart. We can take our time."
Azura's voice was barely above a whisper. "Is it gonna hurt?"
Regina inhaled sharply, her gut twisting. "Oh, no, baby," she murmured, shaking her head quickly. "Never. I promise. It'll be warm, and I'll be right here the whole time."
Azura bit her lip, still hesitant.
"Look," Regina said gently, rolling up her sleeves. She dipped her hand into the water, letting it glide along her palm. "See? Just warm. No pain."
Azura watched her carefully, then slowly reached out a hand of her own. She hesitated, her fingers hovering above the water before finally dipping in. A small gasp left her lips. "It's... it's nice."
Regina smiled, nodding. "Yes, sweetheart. Nice and safe."
Azura chewed her lip, then finally let Regina help her out of her clothes. Her small frame was frail, and Regina had to fight to keep her emotions in check at the sight of faint bruises and scars—remnants of whatever horrors she had faced. But she didn't let the sadness show. Instead, she lifted Azura into the tub, keeping a hand on her back as the child settled into the warmth. Azura sat stiffly at first, her body still on high alert, her little hands clutching the edge of the tub.
Regina dipped a washcloth into the water and wrung it out. "May I?" she asked.
Azura hesitated but then gave a tiny nod.
Regina started slow, wiping Azura's arms with delicate strokes, careful not to make any movements too fast or too sudden. Azura flinched at first, but as Regina continued, her small shoulders loosened. A deep sigh left her lips, her body melting into the water.
Regina felt something shift. Azura was trusting her.
Then, for the first time since they got to the tub, Azura smiled—a small, fleeting thing, but there. "It really is nice," she admitted, wiggling her fingers beneath the surface.
Regina grinned. "Told you so." She grabbed a small cup, scooping up water and letting it trickle over Azura's arms. The child let out a soft giggle, her fingers wiggling under the stream.
Then, in a moment of playfulness, she flicked a few droplets toward Azura's nose. Azura gasped, her wide eyes filled with surprise.
Regina smirked. "Oh, dear, did I get you wet?"
Azura's lips twitched before she splashed Regina right back. "Mama!" she squealed.
Regina let out a dramatic gasp. "You little troublemaker!" She scooped up another handful of water and sent a playful splash Azura's way.
Azura giggled—a full, bright sound that filled the bathroom. Regina hadn't heard laughter like that in what felt like forever. She grabbed a tiny bath toy from the basket nearby—a small rubber duck that was Henrys bathtime favorite—and set it floating in the water. "This is Mr. Quackers. He's here to help make sure bath time stays fun."
Azura picked it up curiously. "Mr. Quackers?"
"Mm-hmm," Regina confirmed. "But be careful. He's been known to team up with little girls and splash unsuspecting mothers."
Azura let out another giggle before launching an attack, flicking water toward Regina again. "He's working with me now!"
Regina gasped dramatically, wiping her face. "Et tu, Mr. Quackers?"
Emma's voice came from the doorway, amused. "Having a water war without me?"
Azura turned, beaming. "Em-ma, help me! Mama's winning!"
Emma smirked as she stepped closer. "Oh, we can't have that."
Regina narrowed her eyes. "Swan, don't you dare—"
Too late. Emma reached down, flicking water toward Regina with a satisfied grin. Azura dissolved into laughter, kicking her feet and sending tiny waves in every direction. Regina huffed but couldn't fight the smile pulling at her lips.
Azura, after everything, was laughing. She was happy. Regina leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her damp forehead. "Alright, little fish," she murmured. "Let's finish up before you turn into a mermaid."
Azura giggled but nodded, letting Regina rinse her hair.
By the time she was wrapped in a fluffy towel, her eyelids were drooping. Regina carried her toward Henry's room, feeling the warmth of Azura's tiny body against her chest.
His room was untouched, exactly as he had left it. The bed was still unmade from the last time he had slept in it. His sneakers sat haphazardly near the closet, one tipped over like he had kicked them off in a rush. His jacket hung on the back of his desk chair, and his notebooks lay open on the desk, frozen in time.
The air smelled like him—like old books and a faint trace of the apple-scented shampoo he had sworn he didn't use. The sight of it all made Regina's stomach twist. Azura shifted in her arms, looking around the unfamiliar space with wide, curious eyes.
Regina's breath hitched. No. This wasn't right.
She had told herself earlier that Azura would sleep here—that Henry's room was the only logical place for her to stay. But standing here now, holding her daughter in the doorway of the room her son would never return to, Regina knew she couldn't do it. She couldn't let Azura sleep in this ghost of a space, where every object screamed of loss, where every inch of it still belonged to Henry. Azura didn't belong in a shrine to the dead.
Regina took a shaky breath and stepped back. Slowly, carefully, she reached for the doorknob and pulled the door shut. Her fingers lingered against the cool wood before she turned her wrist and magically locked the door with a quiet click.
Not tonight. Not yet.
Regina exhaled and pressed a kiss to Azura's temple. "Let's find you somewhere else to sleep, sweetheart."
She carried her daughter down the hall and into her own bedroom, away from the room that still held too much of Henry, away from the pain she wasn't ready to face.
Azura rubbed her eyes sleepily, her small body relaxing against Regina's shoulder. With a flick of her wrist, Regina summoned a fresh set of clothes—soft pyjamas in a deep plum colour. She dressed Azura carefully, mindful of her exhaustion, then pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.
Emma appeared in the doorway, watching them. "Hey," she said softly. "I figured you might not go through with it."
Regina sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I thought I could." She glanced toward the door, toward the hallway where Henry's room remained locked. "But..." Regina trailed off.
Emma understood, she stepped closer, resting a hand on Regina's back. "That's okay," she murmured.
Regina swallowed hard and nodded. "Let's eat something."
They made their way downstairs, where Emma had already set out a light dinner—A pot of warm tomato soup, thick slices of buttered bread, and a small dish of fresh strawberries for Azura. Regina settled Azura in a chair between them, carefully spooning out a small portion of soup into a tiny bowl. Azura dipped a piece of bread into the warm liquid, taking small bites, her eyelids drooping with every chew.
Emma smirked, nudging Regina playfully. "Think she's gonna make it through dinner?"
Regina chuckled softly. "Doubt it."
Azura, determined but visibly exhausted, kept eating in slow, sleepy bites. At one point, she rested her head against Regina's arm, still holding a piece of bread in her tiny fingers. Regina smiled, brushing a few loose curls from her daughter's forehead. "Come on, little one," she murmured. "Let's get you to bed."
Emma helped clear the dishes while Regina carried Azura into their bedroom. She carefully tucked her into the center of the bed. The little girl barely stirred, already lost in the depths of sleep, her tiny fingers curled into the blankets.
Regina lingered for a moment, brushing a few damp curls away from Azura's forehead. The day had been long, exhausting, and laced with grief, but here, in the quiet warmth of their room, there was at least a small pocket of peace.
Emma stepped up behind her a moment later, resting a hand on her lower back. "She's out," she whispered.
Regina exhaled. "Completely."
Emma squeezed her waist gently. "Come on. Let's shower before we crash."
Regina hesitated, glancing toward Azura, but Emma gave her a knowing look. "We'll leave the door open. If she stirs, we'll hear her."
Regina nodded, too tired to argue, and followed Emma into the adjoining bathroom. The warm glow of the vanity lights cast a soft haze over the room as Regina turned on the water, letting the steam rise as both women stripped out of their clothes.
Emma leaned against the counter, watching her. "You holding up?"
Regina let out a tired breath. "I don't know."
Emma reached out, tracing gentle fingers along Regina's wrist before guiding her toward the shower.
"Come on," she murmured. "Let's get you warmed up."
They stepped under the hot spray together, the water washing away the remnants of the day—the lingering scent of flowers from the funeral, the exhaustion clinging to their skin, the grief that sat so heavily on their shoulders.
Emma stood behind her, her hands smoothing over Regina's tense back, pressing slow circles into her shoulders. Regina closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth, into Emma.
"I don't know how to do this," Regina admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
Emma kissed her shoulder, lingering there.
Regina turned, her hands settling on Emma's waist, her forehead dropping against Emma's. "I miss him so much."
"I know," Emma whispered. "Me too."
They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in the heat of the water, in the quiet comfort of each other.
Eventually, they washed up, taking their time, neither in a rush to leave the small sanctuary of the shower. But exhaustion won in the end, and they dried off, slipping into soft pyjamas before returning to bed.
Azura hadn't moved, her little body curled under the blankets. Regina slid in beside her, and Emma followed, wrapping an arm around them both. Regina pressed a soft kiss to Azura's forehead, then turned into Emma's embrace.