"I love you."

In the following pause - momentary, but containing all of eternity - Emma swore but dared not hope that she saw ecstatic relief flood through Regina's eyes. But then, of course, it was gone, decimated by the smoldering coldness that pierced her heart.

"Ms. Swan, you can't possibly expect me to - "

"You're a bitch, Regina," Emma cut in, not knowing whether she was trying harder to contain her own fear or to slice through Regina's. "You're a bitch and you're manipulative and you're a psychotic murderer, for god's sake!"

She saw Regina take a breath and open her mouth, and the blonde plowed on, "Uh uh, no, I'm not done. You are all of these terrifying things, Regina, but you also spent the past ten years loving my kid. You did all those things for him that I never could have done. You gave him a home when the only place I could've given him was the system, and you loved him when he was convinced you're an evil witch - which, I mean, well, you are, but damnit, that's not the point! - because Regina, you love him even now, when you know exactly who he is, that he's got the same blood as the woman you spent so much of your life convincing yourself to hate. You love him so deeply, and he's my kid: how could I not love you, 'Gina?"

Emma finished, slightly breathless, and finally looked away from the eyes that hadn't left hers since she decided to make herself even more vulnerable than even copious amounts of vodka had ever made her. She shifted uncomfortably, even more terrified now that it was out.

Regina blinked once, slowly, her lips slightly parted and her eyes unreadable as they had been throughout Emma's rushed and embarrassed monologue. Even behind her briefly closed eyes, she saw the stray blonde strands of hair gracing Emma's increasingly crimson cheeks. She cursed the other women silently for so thoroughly pervading both her conscious and unconscious existences, blurring them dangerously, in a way Regina had carefully guarded against since her life was first ruined.

"Do you honestly think that proclaiming some kind of love for me gives you the right to call me by a nickname, dear?" She hated the sardonic words and carefully calibrated tone that were escaping her own lips, but it as unavoidable: the price of vulnerability was too high, and she needed to resist while she still could.

It was Emma's turn to blink. "That's what you're focusing on right now? Seriously, Regina - " her voice was rising and she stepped into her love's space, though careful not to touch her, " - why the hell can't you just - "

"Because I can't ever love anyone but Henry! Why can't anyone understand that?" The Queen was yelling, hoarse right away because of the tears generated by her love's confession and proximity. She spun around, away, out of Emma's aura.

"I loved someone, once," she began, arms folded across her chest, talking to the wall instead of to Emma. "Daniel." Emma noted the sanctity with which Regina's tongue, teeth, and lips formed his name, and hope she wasn't imagining having heard her name uttered by this woman in a similarly careful way. She marveled at the amount of pain and love contained in two syllables. Regina's pain was too raw for jealousy to occur to the younger woman.

"We were to run away together until that little bitch discovered us and couldn't keep it a secret, even though she had promised me to. My mother ripped out his heart, and he was gone before I could even take him into my arms." Regina turned abruptly, wet eyes penetrating Emma's. Emma knew by instinct that moving or speaking right then would scare Regina away, so she simply waited, trying to let Regina see the love and compassion radiating through her tears.

"I see him in every man I meet. His walk, his laughter, his gentleness, his voice. His touch. I love pieces of them all, but I hate the rest of them because they will never be him, and they mock his memory by bearing parts of him. And if I did let myself love them, it would be condemning them to die. All except my Henry. I can protect my son."

Still, Emma waited.

"That is, until you came along. Emma Swan." There, Emma dared to dream, was that careful caress of syllables. "You made yourself at home in this wretched little town and you were the only thing I couldn't protect my son from. And I don't know if I can ever forgive you for that."

They had done this so many times before that it was routine, but never casual: the all-encompassing interlocking of their eyes, the unblinking refusal to back down, to be the first to look away. But this time was different.

"'Gina," Emma said as softly as she could without whispering, instinctively understanding that Regina's rejection of the endearment had been a rejection only of the pleasure it gave her, to not only lose her isolating title, but to be known more intimately than her name alone would permit. Emma took a careful step toward the imprisoned woman.

"No one else knows what to do with you. Henry and I won't let anyone kill you, but we also won't let anyone stay locked up. Least of all you. No one else has another solution. But I do." She put her hands gently on Regina's arms: they melted into each others' touch.

"Be with me, 'Gina. Be with me and we can get Henry through puberty together. And along the way, if you want, I can help you heal, and I can heal, too, and we can make a happy ever after together."

Regina started to speak, but Emma shushed her gently with the back of her hand gracing her now tear-stained cheek.

"I'll never be Daniel, 'Gina, and I don't want to be. It would disrespect his memory for me to try, and you'd only hate me if I did. I don't ever want you to forget him, baby. I know you'll always love him, and that's okay. But you made room in your heart for Henry, and I know you want to do the same for me. I don't need protecting, 'Gina, and your love isn't lethal: only your loneliness is."

"I love you, Emma," Regina whispered after an infinity of eyes feasting on the love found in their companions.

Emma's ecstatically teary smile and gentle kiss in response began to melt the stone that had replaced the heart in her chest, as her lips curled into a smile to match her lover's, fullness beginning to course throughout both of their long-depleted spirits.