"What do you mean no?" Regina asked dangerously.

Emma fidgeted before green eyes locked with brown. "I've been getting treatment for over a year now. Just in Boston."

"What?" Regina took a step forward, closing the gap between them effectively. "You've been in Boston this whole time?"

"Brookhaven. I've been seeing a therapist for my PTSD."

A thousand emotions crossed Regina's features in a millisecond. Concern, hope, guilt, remorse. Emma shouldn't have been surprised when she settled on one as Regina scoffed disbelieving, using a pinky to wipe away the offending tear. "You were in Boston," she repeated.

"I wasn't well," Emma argued, her jaw tightening.

"Neither was I!" Regina snapped in a fiery blaze as if those thousand emotions shook together like soda in a pop can and blew off its lid. "I thought you were dead! I mourned you. And you were—"

A knock sounded at the door. Both women turned to glare at it, willing the intruder to go away, but it was Regina who broke apart with a departing stare and walked the short distance down the foyer steps and to the door.

The breath Emma had been holding came out in a whoosh as she paced over to the foot of the main stairs and dropped down on the last step, her hand threading in her hair in frustration. What was she thinking? Disappear for three years and return like no time had passed? A part of her hoped that would suffice, that they could just pick up where they left off in a flurry of hugs and kisses and be on their way. It could have been worse, she thought with another deep exhale. Regina could have been married or—her ears prickled at the sound of a high pitched voice. A child.

"Wanna come to Granny's, Regina?" In the mirror opposite her, Emma could see the reflected images of Regina's back and the open door. On the stoop was a man, tall, chinstrap, nice face, and a little boy with dimples so deep it made the Grand Canyon look like a crack. The man looked hopeful and the boy excited, but Emma couldn't gauge Regina's reaction unless she crane her neck and reveal herself, so she kept close to the banister, watching the interaction through the mirror.

"Granny's?" Regina repeated as she bent down to the child, her voice softer than the strained aggravation it was mere moments ago. "That's very kind of you to offer, Roland."

"He insisted," the man spoke, and Emma refrained from rolling her eyes because of course his voice was laced with everything made of a gentleman. "I know it's your first day alone in the house without Henry, so we thought you might like the company."

Emma's breath hitched. She chanced a glance at the mirror again to see the man smiling at Regina like she was the world. Emma knew that smile. It was one she wore quite often when she was the lone visitor in the Mills mansion. Her stomach dropped. She nearly stood from her spot as her mouth parted in horror. Oh god. What the hell was she thinking? Regina did move on, and as much as Emma wanted to be upset, pissed that the one person she had depended on didn't wait for her, she couldn't blame Regina. She should have called. So long ago. She shut her eyes. The painted house, the longer hair, the man at the door. She waited too long. She needed to get out of here. Far away. Before she did any more damage.

"Now isn't the greatest time," Regina answered, "but I appreciate your invitation. Perhaps another day?"

"Of course." The man took the boy's hand and nodded. "We'll be off."

Regina closed the door behind them and leaned against the woodwork, a similar position to one she had taken up minutes ago, but this time, instead of the disbelief clouding her features, Emma could see something else. Conflict? Regret? Anger? She stood from her hiding spot and hovered at the top of the foyer steps, left hand shoved deep into her back pocket as her prosthetic fingers flexed out a nervous rhythm.

"Look, I'm sorry—"

"You're sorry?" Regina interrupted, pushing off from the door and taking two steps toward the base of the foyer. "Three years and all you have to say is you're sorry?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want an explanation," the brunette demanded, softness gone replaced with an angry inquisition. "I want to know why you let me believe you were dead for so long and deem me worthy enough for a visit now, when I'm settled now, when I spent too many hours crying over you and wishing you would come back only to have to spend even more time admitting to myself that you were gone."

"Do you think I wanted to spend six months of my life trapped in a cell getting beat every day?" Emma snapped, her voice rising an octave. "I almost died! I should have! I was found on the side of a dirt road nearly beaten to death." She scoffed dryly. "Just like when I was a baby. Only this time I hung on. I hung on by a thread, and you know what was the last thing I saw in my mind when I thought it was over? When I was so sure this would be it? You. I saw you and Henry, so forgive me for living."

Regina faltered with a blink of an eye and a hitch of her breath. She placed a heeled foot at the last step then paused. Their eyes bore into one another daring the other to make the next move. There was a time where the idea of being together was like rain on a sunny day. There was no sun this time. Not yet. Just this thunderstorm flooding their systems until they were bare emotions, suffocating, drowning, fighting for release.

The dam broke.

Regina shot up and Emma caught her around the middle. In a blur of arms and limbs they kissed fiercely, determinedly, needing something to prove. Regina's lips were exactly as she remembered, firm and full and tasting like mocha and just plain right. She sucked in a breath and held tighter, her arms weaving around a slim waist to pull the older woman up onto her toes and onto the the main floor as Regina gripped her shoulders and held on.

The noise in her head, the doubt and the fear and the insecurity washed away as the feelings welled up inside her poured out in a tidal wave. This was all they needed to hold on and ride the waves trying to pull them under. Regina parted her lips and flicked her tongue outward, begging Emma's attention which the blonde was all too eager to pay. Emma was breathing and drowning all at the same time as she tugged Regina away from the foyer and further into the hallway. Inhaling Regina was better than oxygen, and if she could live on this woman alone, she would do so in a heartbeat. Her hands wandered, scraping the flesh beneath her palm when her left hand found the smooth back underneath her blouse and scraped her nails downward.

Regina hissed, pulling back just an inch to reveal nearly blackened eyes, and retaliated, gripping Emma's jaw in between manicured fingers and claiming Emma's lips in a bruising kiss. The impact was enough to send Emma tumbling backward, her hip knocking into the side table behind her and disturbing the bills, pens, and keys settled there. She steadied herself with a palm on the table and a hand on Regina's waist, but what made Emma whimper was when Regina's knee inadvertently pressed against Emma's core.

Desire flooded through her, and though the logical part of her was telling her that this wasn't the smartest idea, that there was too much they needed to say, the part of her that missed Regina so much she almost called it quits with her therapy and ran straight to Storybrooke had taken control.

"Regina," Emma whispered, removing her hand from the small of her back to grip her waist.

The brunette gasped peppering kisses so lightly on Emma's jaw, the blonde wanted to giggle. "Say it again."

"Hmm?" Her eyes drifted shut, and the intensity clouding them mere seconds ago simmered to a bubbling heat.

"My name. Say my name again."

She placed a tiny kiss in the corner of red lips, now smudged from eagerness. Her breath ghosted over tanned skin, her lip brushing Regina's as just a tickle before it settled on the scar above her lip. "Regina."

Emma was pulled in again for another searing kiss, this one less hurried but just as passionate as the last, and all Emma could do was hold on. "Emma."

Her lips curled into a smile and the ringing in her ears hummed until the only sound she could hear was Regina whispering her name over and over. It wasn't until she looked down to see that the brunette was in fact peppering kisses down Emma's jaw, along her neck, and up behind her ear, each kiss laced with her name, promising the world.

"Are you really here?" Regina whispered in her ear so softly the tingles made her shiver and pull the brunette closer.

She nodded. "I'm here."

Rational thinking was thrown out the window when Emma followed Regina eagerly up the stairs. Like so many times before, the brunette was leading the blonde by the fingertips and did it ever feel like home. Her eyes were trained on the older woman in front of her who continued glancing back with every step just to make sure Emma was still there, and every time green eyes met brown, Emma would squeeze her hand and pick up her pace just a little bit.

The need to be close was stronger than ever, and as soon as the bedroom door was shut behind them, the air thickened once again. They didn't wait to join their lips. They had done enough waiting. So Emma drowned in the mocha taste of Regina, vowing to never be without these lips for too long again because out of everything she had been through, that may have just been the cruelest form of torture.

They stepped toward the bed, Emma leading her backwards until the mattress hit Regina's knees, and Emma settled her down gently onto the duvet, hovering over her, refusing to part for a second. Regina was the first to pull away only to trail her lips down Emma's neck. The blonde moaned at the sensation and snapped her eyes shut until she felt Regina move upwards toward the head of the bed, bringing Emma with her by the belt loops.