They were gonna hurt her again. Why couldn't they just let her die? Her arms flailed, her body numb and unfeeling, but hands kept her still as the same woman's voice calmed her movements. Wetness on her forehead. Sting in her hand.

"Shh," the voice repeated.

One blur became two, and whether Emma had just given up, resigned to remain paralyzed, or some instinct in her told her she was safe, she wasn't sure. She calmed. Her waving limbs shivered by her side, and the blonde was faintly aware she was on a soft surface. The blurs spoke to each other, and Emma squeezed her eyes shut willing them to come into focus.

"Emma." A voice, distinct, familiar, sounding like safety and comfort. "Emma."

Green eyes snapped open as the final remnants of Emma's dream got away from her. The time between the prison and Landstuhl had always been hazy. Months of her life a delirious and pain-induced blur she could never quite comprehend even through the numerous therapy sessions Emma had attended. There were always figures above her, touching her face, her arm, her leg. She admitted to Dr. Mitchell once that she could have sworn it was Regina and Henry, but her subconscious had been playing tricks on her for months before then.

She stared up at the ceiling she had never paid much attention to until what woke her had her snapping away. The warmth that had cocooned her in her sleep was gone as Regina was sitting up on the edge of the bed, her naked back tense as she hunched over with a rumpled bedsheet keeping her decency.

"Emma," Regina hissed quietly. Emma sat up enough to see that she was on a phone and shaking. "It's Emma, Dr. Hopper. I think I might be hallucinating, but it's never been this real before. Please give me a call when you get this—"

Dipping the bed with her weight, Emma jarred Regina from her telephone conversation as she whipped her head back, eyes wide as if she was a child caught stealing cookies.

"I'll call you back." Regina ended the call and lowered the phone into her lap, moving slowly as if Emma were an injured animal. "Hey."

"Hi."

Emma swallowed thickly as she sat up in the bed, tugging the duvet up to her chest as if she and Regina hadn't spent the last couple hours discovering each other's body. She had held Regina as the older woman sobbed and laughed into her neck, and eventually Emma joined her because that moment, hell that day, had been too surreal not to border on absurd. It couldn't be real. It couldn't be this easy. Not that this road had been easy. Her mind was warring again and all Emma could think of was how they spent their final moments of exhausted energy curled around one another, kissing the grins and fears off the other's face.

"Stop smiling," Emma had commanded in a teasing tone as her lips continued playing with Regina's. "I can't kiss you properly."

That had only made Regina's smile grow, but at that point, Emma's senses were flooded. The salty sweetness of her lips, memorizing every new beauty mark on tanned skin, drowning in Regina, it was all she cared about.

Emma's fingers tingled as her hand caressed down Regina's arm, flesh prickling with goosebumps under the pad of her thumb as the older woman shivered her appreciation. Regina's breath puffed against Emma's neck with each shudder, warming her skin and speeding up her pulse. Emma's ears drummed, and for the first time, it wasn't the numbing ringing after years of hearing bombs go off or gunshots firing just by her shoulder. It drummed to the tune of her heat beating wildly in her ear, but as her lips made its way down Regina's temple, kissing away the tears stained on dampen cheeks, then showing devotion to the older woman's collarbone, Emma could have sworn the drumming was coming from Regina. Their hearts pounding in tangent, adrenaline and emotion coursing through them in such a short time span it was all too consuming.

Then Regina had quieted, her breathy sobs turning to sighs as Emma painted Regina's neck with her lips, and the blonde had enough sense to glance up in the woman's tightened hold to see her eyes drifting drowsily.

"Close your eyes," the blonde whispered, kissing the lids shut. "Rest."

"I should be telling you that," Regina mumbled though she burrowed herself further into Emma's embrace. "I'm fine."

"You're tired." And though her insistence to Regina, Emma suppressed her own yawn as exhaustion, both mental and physical, took hold of her.

Still Regina shook her head, peeking an eye open as she brushed their noses in contentment. "No I'm not."

"Regina," she warned.

"Emma." The younger woman's eyes drifted shut when Regina kissed her softly. "I want to stay awake with you."

"I'm sleepy," Emma tried, a long strand of silken hair draped daintily between two fingers as Emma wondered how this woman continued to be so perfect.

"Sleep."

Emma chuckled, her laughter vibrating against Regina's jaw in lazy comfort. "Will you be here when I wake up?"

Short fingernails paused their raking along Emma's pale back. Regina's voice was laden with exhaustion but more certain than ever. "If this is a dream I don't want to wake."

Her statement was dramatic and intense, yet all Emma could think was that she couldn't agree more. The months, the years spent separated, had her heart aching every day, but it got her here, home. She let the bliss settle over her when she felt Regina's breathing even out against her chest, and within a second Emma was holding her tight, following her into sleep.

That had been only a couple hours ago, this amazed wonder and ravenous desire consuming their every thought, yet here they were acting as if they had just woken from an awkward one night stand with splitting hangovers and no recollection of the night before.

Emma sat up, silently turning to the bedside table to get her hand and catching sight of the time. Half past one. They had slept for a little over an hour. She attached her hand in place then leaned against the headboard, pulling the duvet up and over her chest. She was acutely aware that Regina had been watching her intently, and as she nestled into the pillows, she caught hesitance in chocolate eyes where only an hour earlier they had been filled with love. What happened between now and when they had fallen asleep was disconcerting. Kisses and hugs replaced with confusion and distance. All Emma could feel were Regina's eyes boring holes into her like she was a zombie. Regina hadn't moved from her spot yet. In fact, she clutched the bedsheet tighter to her, knuckles whitening in her grip.

Before Emma could ask what was wrong, Regina shook her head, nearly burying half her face in the bedsheet as she spoke muffled. "You're here."

"Yeah."

Suddenly Regina shot up from the bed and hastily moved to the hamper just outside her closet door and slipped on an oversized t-shirt. Emma's, in fact. The US ARMY shirt reached the top of her thighs, and though she usually would never re-wear an item of clothing that was already deposited into the dirty bin, her mind was whirring too much to care. Her back remained to Emma when she moved to her dresser and rummaged through her drawers. The mirror offered the blonde full access to the worry lines creasing on Regina's face as she tugged open the drawer and grabbed the first set of panties she could find. The brunette rushed to slip them on but stumbled in her haste, losing her balance from her right leg and hobbled to lean against the dresser for stability.

The trip would have been endearing, and three years ago, Emma would have been clutching her sides in laughter and endlessly teasing a flustered Regina, but now was not the time for laughter or teasing. She had no idea what it was the time for, but not that. So as Regina muttered to herself, scrambling to find some semblance of pants, Emma slid out of bed and dressed quietly.

This was it. The other shoe was dropping. One night—or afternoon rather—of passion didn't just erase three years of pain. She wished it would, but this wasn't a fairy tale. They weren't in a movie, or some book, or characters on TV. This was real life, and in real life, people move on, they grow up. Sometimes they grow up separately. Emma was all too familiar with that concept.

It could have been worse, she reminded herself as she slipped on her grey tee which had been caught between the bed and the bedside table. At least she had this last time. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she let one escape as the fabric draped over her face, wiping it away as her head broke through. She managed to find her underwear and had stepped into them when Regina's panic-ridden voice had her straightening and turning quickly.

"Where are you going?" The older woman strained, clutching a pair of leggings to her chest. Emma's eyebrows crinkled in confusion, offering only a flopping mouth and half a shrug before Regina was moved into action again. She dropped her leggings and ran her hand into her hair, holding it out of her face as she paced the length of the vanity and dresser. "I just—I just need a minute. I just—"

"Okay."

"I mean, you're here. This is—this isn't a dream, you're here, right?"

"Yes."

"You're alive!" Regina huffed and scoffed out a breath like she was deeming herself crazy. "You're—just—"

"I know."

"You're dead. They said you were dead."

"I know."

"But you're here. I mean, we—we just—"

"I know."

"Why are you doing that?" She snapped. Her sudden pacing had stopped just as quickly and the hand in her hair moved to rest on her waist. "Why are you so okay with everything? How is this even remotely normal to you? You—you're back from the dead, Emma."