Emma barely had enough time to truly register the emotions the older woman must have gone through before Regina was tugging her away again, upstairs this time, bypassing the master suite and turning the knob for Henry's room. Emma gasped out loud at the change in it. Although neat, the room that had once been laden with dragons and knights, was a tidy mess of comics piled precariously on a bedside table and a new computer desk. Stray sneakers peeked out from under the bed, and inside the partially open closet were clothes hanging from hangers and a laundry basket with t-shirts slipping over the lip. Emma almost wanted to cry because the four-year old she had hugged in the airport was a big kid now, and though she had seen the picture of Henry standing beside the sapling of his tree, the tears welled just the same.
"Where is he?" She questioned, taking in the blue plaid bedspread that had once boasted Sheriff Woody and Buzz Lightyear.
"Boy Scouts." Regina was oblivious to Emma's reaction as the brunette scurried over to the desk and reached up to the shelf hanging over it to pluck a book from its contents. The large leather-bound tome was thicker than the spine allowed, and judging from the creases of it and the wrinkles at its corners, it was well used.
Silently, Regina handed the book to Emma. It was weighty in her hands, and Emma almost thought she had been given that book of fairy tales, but when she flipped it open to the front page, realization set.
In the corner of the thick card stock written in Regina's delicate script was December 2005. The letter that followed, claiming this present to be Emma's own personal photo album to document her life with her newfound family made her breathing shallow and the tear she was holding back fall. Regina had saved this — a Christmas gift meant for Emma upon her arrival home — for years. She flipped to the middle of the book and skimmed through its pages, not registering that she had dropped on the bed in disbelief as pictures of the last three years filled its pages. Pictures Emma remembered pinning to the wall of her cot were pasted in the pages. Leaves collected on camping trips were glued accompanying sloppy writing telling Emma that Henry had caught a fish. The lump in her throat doubled.
"Why—you were moving on." Emma stood up suddenly as dread filled her. "You were moving on, and I came back, and I fucked up all your progress. I should go. I should—"
She took two steps to leave the room before Regina tugged on her wrist and pulled her back so they were flush against one another. Emma could barely keep eye contact with the older woman. How could she when she had never felt more selfish than in that moment? Emma was a runner. That's what she was good at. But of course, she even messed that up too by coming back a broken mess and—Regina's lips were on hers, pressing firmly as if to physically stop the voices in Emma's mind from filling her with doubt.
"Yes, we were trying to," Regina admitted quietly, still pressed against Emma's pliant body. "But your family has been waiting for you, and if you honestly believe that we would prefer a phantom image than the real Emma Swan, then I will accompany you to the doctor to have a further look at your brain."
Emma had always prepared for the worst case scenario. She was used to fighting through storms and armies and trudging through life like she was waist-deep in a trench of molasses. But Regina, with her wide, wonderful eyes accepting her home, promising to be there every step of the way was too overwhelming to be real. But it was, and even though the hard part wasn't over — hell, it was just beginning — nothing in the world felt easier.
"We tried to let go," Regina continued. "Actually, Dr. Hopper tried to pry open my grip on you, and I may have lashed out on him a handful of times. But you never once stopped being a part of this family."
Emma laughed, hysterically so, as her shoulders shook in Regina's arms. It was too much, too overwhelming. But it was everything she needed to hear. Her laughter bordered on madness as she finally choked out the first coherent thought that came to mind. "You—you're awesome."
Regina matched her absurd laughter because she felt anything but, yet coming from Emma, she had to admit: this was awesome.
They talked for hours, moving through various rooms in the house as if christening every room with their togetherness because though it was so familiar it was all so new. Emma revealed most of what she had been through as best as she could, answering Regina's questions and accepting her kisses as if that alone could take away the memories. Twice Emma had to take a break when she felt a phantom pain in her head and hand, but Regina had been patient, filling the gap with trips she and Henry had taken and how much had happened over the years.
When Regina woke this morning to drop Henry off at his overnight retreat, never would she have thought that today of all days every wish and prayer she had made over the years would be answered. But there Emma was, fingers forever clasped with hers, alive. The realization, though not new yet still amazing, would strike Regina at odd points throughout the day and halfway through a story or as they walked from room to room, Regina would stop them and kiss Emma. Emma shared the same sentiment as she would continuously tug Regina closer to her, as if their bodies just couldn't get enough.
Daylight gave way to evening, and the emotional exhaustion of the day finally caught up to both women as they sat in the living room, combing through the box of Emma's belongings Regina had kept in her room. Emma shared the pictures she had drawn in rehab. Regina presented the entire collection of her letters. As their words shook and their bodies tingled with every minuscule yet promising touch, their minds gave way to sleep as they curled together on the couch.
Emma couldn't remember the last time she had fallen asleep so soundly with no haunting memories or waking every hour just to grab her bearings, but with a throw pillow tossed over her face, and Regina nestled against her body like she was the comfiest mattress in the world, Emma felt safe, secure, carefree. A touch of a smile graced her lips as she gripped Regina tighter, breathing in slowly and exhaling deeply as not to wake her.
Their talk today just only skimmed the surface, but to know that they had another chance lifted the burden off their shoulders. Emma was nowhere near perfect when it came to her rehab, and Regina's progress had been flipped on its head completely, but they were never one for normal circumstances, and if this was one more obstacle in their course, then at least they had the chance to do it together.
Together.
They were finally together again. That touch of a smile bloomed across her face as she shimmied her head from the pillow and pressed a kiss to the top of Regina's head.
"Go to sleep," Regina muttered groggily, fisting Emma's shirt in a tight grip and buried her head into Emma's neck.
"Okay." She closed her eyes, her palm drawing lazy circles on Regina's back under her shirt, and let her mind relax. She'd wake again because this was no dream.
She woke less than an hour later with a start when she heard the latch of the front door unlock and open and heavy boots shuffle at the bottom of the foyer. By the time her senses fully kicked in, a voice boomed overhead.
"What the hell, Regina?!"
Both women sat up sharply, the pillow sliding off of Emma's face and bopping the top of Regina's head before falling to the floor. August, standing paralyzed above them, gawked at Emma like he had seen a ghost.