DISCLAIMER: Don't own OUAT. And I really, really hate this hiatus.

This is just something random that came to me after watching the season finale.

Regina's feet hit the floor of the Enchanted Forest, and her knees follow suit a few seconds later.

Before, when she was still the Evil Queen, she would never have let anyone see her weak. But she is no longer the Evil Queen; she is not even Regina. Regina was Henry's mother, the woman who kept living because of the love of one little boy. But he's gone, just like everyone else she's ever loved. And this time there is no hope to keep her going, no promise of happiness like the last time the Dark Curse was cast. This time she knows for sure that she has lost. Forever.

A dull roar fills her ears, and as if possessed, Regina's hand moves to her chest, fingers fisting over her heart. Without her son, there's no point in staying alive; he was everything and she will never, ever get him back. The fallen queen has finally broken, crumbling to dust like the hearts she used to crush. Like she will soon do to her own heart, she thinks with a grim sort of satisfaction, letting out a reflexive gasp as she grasps the beating organ and begins to remove it.

"Regina, no!"

Tinkerbell's voice echoes dimly, as if from a great distance, and a second later she feels the blonde's hand grab her own. "Don't. Please don't," Tinkerbell begs, kneeling down and attempting to pry the brunette's heart from her fingers.

"Leave me alone," Regina snarls, violently shoving Tink away. Rage sears through her veins, abrupt and white-hot, as she jerks her head up and fixes the fairy with a withering glare. She feels the others staring; knows they're watching, but she doesn't care. "For once in my life, let me do what I want without anyone else interfering. I have nothing left; for god's sake, just let me die!" She curls her fingers around her heart and feels a twisting, crushing sensation in her chest. "Let me die."

"No!" Tinkerbell yells, making Regina jerk back in surprise. Tinkerbell's green eyes are blazing in fury, and the brunette can't ever remember her looking this angry, not even back in Neverland. "You can't just give up. Not now. Henry—"

"My son is gone!" Regina's voice cracks, and tears begin to snake down her cheeks, burning like the fires of hell. The hell she more than deserves. "He doesn't remember me, he won't ever remember! I'm never getting him back! I'm a villain; villains don't get their happy endings! They die; they die alone and hated, Tink. Just like Pan. And just like I will."

But even as Regina speaks, she remembers Gold, remembers the way Baelfire and Belle cried for him. She remembers her mother dying in her arms, the way Cora smiled at her and how much she loved her in that moment. Both were villains, but neither died alone or hated. For a split second, she swears her heart grows warmer in her hand.

Tinkerbell shakes her head, and Regina recoils in surprise as the blonde fairy leans over and hugs her. "You're not alone, Regina," Tinkerbell says quietly, only holding tighter as Regina struggles to push her away again. "You haven't been for a while now, but you can't see it."

"Shut up," Regina rasps, but her body betrays her and she leans against Tinkerbell, shivering violently. "Just shut up….please…"

Tink says nothing, just running her fingers through Regina's hair, and the dark woman can't summon any anger no matter how hard she tries. She's just so, so tired, and it hurts so much to be alone, to have all hope ripped away by the same curse that had once given her that very boon. Grief and despondent rage sweep through her, and Regina curls in on herself, her heart breaking like it hasn't since the night of Frankenstein's farce resurrection. But this time she isn't alone; this time Tinkerbell is here, whispering words that don't hold any meaning and yet somehow manage to soothe her. Regina wants to push away; she is the Evil Queen, she deserves no comfort, but she is also so, so broken and this time the pieces lie where they fall because she doesn't have the strength to pick them up yet another time.

So she stays there and she sobs, and it doesn't surprise her when a second pair of arms wrap around her and hold her close. She knows, without even looking, that it's Snow White. The stupid girl still has a soft heart even after all this time, it would seem. Regina lifts her head to gaze at Snow, and the tenderness in her stepdaughter's eyes makes her nearly break down all over again. Snow raises a hand, hesitates and then wipes Regina's cheeks, and Regina can't help but remember all the tears she herself brushed away over the course of Snow's life. For some reason the thought makes the raging ache in her chest lessen just a bit.

Snow reaches down and puts her hand over Regina's, gently cradling the dark woman's heart. "Please," she says quietly. "You took my heart once and then you gave it back. Let me give yours back to you."

Regina glares up at her stepdaughter, the old, familiar rage stirring beneath her skin. "Why should I?! Name one reason I should live, Snow White; tell me why I should keep going when every reason I ever had for existing is gone! Tell me," the fallen queen angrily demands.

Snow's eyes fill with tears as she answers in a voice almost too soft to be audible: "Because I still need you. I always have."

It feels as though she's been kicked in the chest by a horse. Regina struggles to breathe as Snow White's words slam into her with enough force that she would have fallen had she still been standing. Words fail her, and she stares at the younger woman, unable to comprehend the idea that after all this time, after everything she's done, Snow White still needs her, just like the little girl that she saved from the runaway horse so many years ago. Snow smiles tremulously. "I told you that I knew there was still good in you. And I was right. In the end, you redeemed yourself."

Regina is dimly aware of something warm and wet spilling down her cheeks, but she's more focused on the incredible concept that someone cares, someone actually gives a damn if she lives or dies. A strangled sob emerges from her throat, and Tinkerbell leans over and hugs Regina again. A moment later she feels the fairy's breath ghost her ear as Tinkerbell whispers, "You helped me believe in myself again. Now it's our turn to do the same for you. Henry wouldn't want you to just give up on life, Regina. He loves you."

It isn't lost on Regina that the last heart Snow handled was Cora's, but she knows that the younger woman would never hurt her even after everything she's done. Still the fallen queen hesitates, torn between two worlds, but then Tinkerbell squeezes her shoulder and Regina makes a choice. Slowly, ever so slowly, Regina relinquishes her hold on her heart, drawing her hand away and looking up into soft dark eyes. Snow tries to be gentle, but it still hurts a bit when she pushes the glowing organ back into its cavity. Regina exhales softly and allows the other two to help her back to her feet, noting with some surprise that the rest of Storybrooke's denizens have left and she is alone with her friend and her stepdaughter. A wave of dizziness hits her, and Regina stumbles slightly, reflex making her grasp at Tinkerbell and Snow to stay upright. Both of them support her with steady arms, but when she is finally able to stand on her own, neither allow their hands to slip away.

It's not what she's used to, having someone to lean on, having someone actually give a damn if she lives or dies. Regina gazes uncertainly at Tinkerbell and Snow, fighting the ingrained urge to shove them away, to protect herself. Snow smiles softly, the look that Regina remembers receiving so, so many times in her life, and before she can stop it, a watery smile of her own crosses her lips. She feels Tinkerbell gently squeeze her hand, and as Regina looks back at her friend (friend—Regina doesn't have friends, and yet here they are), the fairy says "You know, maybe I was wrong all those years ago. Maybe romantic love wasn't what you needed."

Snow cocks her head in interest, but Regina can't bring herself to talk about it. Not now. And, to her stepdaughter's credit, she doesn't ask. Regina exhales heavily and pushes a hand through her hair, feeling drained but somehow not as hopeless as she did before. "Well, I'm more or less right back where I started," she finally answers, voice a bit raspier than she would like it to be. Regina can't bring herself to hope for a family—not yet. Her son's absence is still too fresh, too raw; in all honesty, she's not sure it will ever stop being that way. But there is hope glowing in Snow's dark eyes, and instead of repulsing her as once it did Regina wants the light with an intensity that almost frightens her. She looks at Tinkerbell and says, almost too quietly to be heard, "Can you help me?"

Tink smiles, takes Regina's hand and gently squeezes it. "Believe it."

And when Snow White slips her own hand into her stepmother's free one, Regina doesn't pull away.