Staying low to the ground, she quickly checked his vitals and breathed out heavily when the pulse underneath her finger was faint. The gashes on his face were embedded with glass, and the angle of his body told Emma he must have been thrown from the car on impact. Jesus Christ there was so much blood. The man's eyes fluttered open just a fraction of an inch as he coughed, a red stream escaping his lips. It was then Emma truly took inventory of him and found that not only was his leg pinned under the roof, turned at an odd angle from the impact, but there was a dark red patch under his left rib that was growing by the minute. She felt around the wound gently and cursed under her breath when she felt the sharp point of a large shrapnel.

"Come on, August," Emma grunted and gave her superior a hard tug to free his leg.

His scream reverberated in her head.

"Emma, fall back!" She heard Neal call to her, but her only thought was to get August out of there. His leg was almost out, and she knew it would hurt like a bitch to get him out, but she didn't have a choice. She had to save him. She wouldn't leave him there.

Looping her hands under his arms, Emma stood and pulled, drowning out every noise except for the anguished cry of her friend, her brother, as she pulled him free. The released pressure made her fall back when August escaped the weight of the jeep, collapsing back into the open fire where the vehicle was protecting him no more.

One second Emma had looked up to reach him, to grab his hand, his shoulder, anything, to pull him back with her The next second there was a bullet in his head.

Her ears rang, and time slowed. Her mouth opened, but the scream that wanted to escape was muted as she watched August lay there, lifeless.

"No!" She shook away from the person holding her back. "No!"

"Emma. Emma, wake up."

Emma sat up abruptly, rolled out the opposite side of her bed and pressed near the window, her hands up defensively. Her mind was whirling. August's screams were still ringing in her head. His dead body was seared permanently in her mind's eye.

"Emma." The voice that had roused her was soothing, and it took Emma half a second to realize it was Regina, eyes wide with worry as she stood on the opposite side of the room beside the bed, her own hands up with caution. "Are you okay?"

Emma nodded before taking in deep gulps of air, eyes scanning the room to confirm that she wasn't fighting anymore. She was home. She was in Regina's house. In her guest room. August was alive and safe. She took another breath then nodded more intently. "Yeah."

Regina shook her head in understanding. "Nightmare?"

"Yeah." Emma finally withdrew from the window and crawled to the head of the bed sitting with her back against the headboard.

"Do they happen often?" Regina asked hesitantly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Sometimes." Emma gave a half shrug. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Motherhood has made me a light sleeper," Regina admitted.

Emma gave a half-hearted smirk, leaning her head back and shutting her eyes, counting backwards from ten as the noises in her mind slowly faded away. When she opened them again, she saw Regina still watching her, concern etching her brow. Despite the light orange glow peeking into the room from behind the drapes, Regina shivered in the barely used room and ran a palm up and down her arms. The goosebumps pebbled on her flesh, and Emma felt bad again for waking up the woman who had already extended her generosity to Emma far more than was necessary.

"Are you okay?" Regina asked again, her question laced with numerous other inquiries yet Emma heard them all loud and clear.

Compartmentalizing was key to her job. A soldier fought better when emotions didn't get in the way, Emma knew that. Hell, that got her through some of the toughest foster homes she had ever been in. But she knew the consequences of it as well, the horror stories of suffering from PTSD, of snapping under the weight of the pressure, going home a changed person. Not me, Emma thought. That wouldn't be her. So she was honest and shook her head, clenching the sheets in her tight fists. "I couldn't save August," she admitted quietly.

A brief moment of confusion clouded Regina's features before her mouth parted into a small, understanding "o".

"I exposed him and he got killed," the blonde continued, her fists clenched in her lap as they rubbed over one another as if they were stained with blood. "I might as well have put the gun to his head."

"Emma," Regina drawled cautiously, scooting up further to the head of the bed. A warm hand came down gently on Emma's forearm though it didn't cease the tension coiling through the blonde. "You saved his life. You went back for him, and you got him the medical attention he needed."

Emma laughed dryly. "So he can live the rest of his days either confined to a wheelchair or hobbling on a prosthetic?"

"So he can live." Regina rubbed her palm further down Emma's forearm until she reached the clenched hands and carefully extracted them from one another. With Regina's soothing rubbing circles to the back of her hand, Emma allowed the tension to seep away from her body, escaping right where Regina was touching her. "Does he seem dissatisfied by the turn of events?"

Emma shrugged, finally looking up to make eye contact with the older brunette. "He says he's doing okay, but I saw the beer bottles. It's hard on him."

"As it would be. He's suffered a life altering event," Regina reminded her with a squeeze to her palm. "His life has changed drastically, but he can continue to live it. I understand the guilt you must feel, but you are not the one who damaged his leg. You are the one that brought him home."

Emma was quiet for a moment, replaying events in her mind where August's end result wasn't lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life. No matter how hard she tried, even the best circumstance had an unpleasant end. Emma knew that when she enlisted. She knew the risks and was willing to take them. She sighed, running her free hand through her hair. "It could have been worse," she guessed.

"And it could have been better. But your actions were honourable and selfless. Don't ever forget that, soldier."

Emma smirked, the guilt and tension subsiding for now before she removed her arm from Regina's grasp and squeezed the brunette's palm in gratitude. "I won't."

Regina gave a small smile which the blonde returned shyly. "Do you feel better?"

Emma nodded. "It's nice to talk to someone. Definitely quicker than mail."

"More pleasant to look at too," Regina said before she could fully process her words. It was only Emma's intrigued raised eyebrow that made Regina blush and flounder for clarification, something that Emma found endearing and absolutely adorable. No doubt the high strung Mayor was never at a loss for words before. "I mean, talking to a real person is more appealing than words on a page."

Emma chuckled and relaxed back into the bed. "I'm sure that's what you meant."

Regina rolled her eyes, glaring softly at the blonde in the bed before her gaze zeroed in on the charm hanging on the beaded chain of her dog tag. "You kept it," Regina observed, leaning over to finger the swan charm partially hidden behind the identification tags.

Emma looked down at Regina's touch and reflexively pressed her own fingers to her necklace, brushing Regina's in the process. The brunette made no start to move her hand and instead grazed her thumb over the engraving.

"Yeah," Emma said, lifting up the chain between them as they both examined the charm closely. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I didn't expect you would wear it on your person." Regina moved her fingers to one of the two dog tags, squinting her eyes at the piece of metal. "I always wondered what these meant."

"They're ID tags," Emma explained, easing the one Regina was fingering out of the woman's grasp before scooting closer so she could help bring it into the glowing light of the morning sun. She skimmed over every embossed line and spoke. "My name. Social security number. And blood type. There's two tags so that one can be left with the body in case..."

"In case your body can't be retrieved right away," Regina provided darkly, meeting Emma's gaze, but the blonde nodded nonetheless.

Regina shook her head. "The tag taken, who do they notify in the event of a fatality?"

"Usually a spouse, but the closest kin or the emergency contact."

"Who do they notify if anything happens to you?" Regina clarified.

Emma bit the inside of her cheek, rolling a shoulder nonchalantly. "I don't know, I haven't really put anyone down for it."

"Why not?" Regina asked alarmed.

"Group home to group home to boot camp, remember?" Emma said with a tight smile. "Nobody to contact. I'm a glorified ward of the state."

Regina opened her mouth, but as soon as the barest of sounds escaped her lips both Emma and Regina turned their heads at the sound of Regina's alarm clock blaring in her room.

Emma feigned a stretch and looked at Regina pointedly. "Well good morning, Regina."

Regina laughed once and stood. "I'll turn that off and let you return to bed."

Her statement was useless for Emma was already up and out of bed, fluffing out the blanket to drape it over its length, tucking the ends under the mattress until it was taut. "I get up with the sun. I was hoping to go for a run."

"Of course," Regina said standing by the wall, impressed at Emma's impeccable bed-making skills. Looking at the blonde, one would question her discipline since her light-hearted and jovial nature was her most striking characteristic, but habit and duty was ingrained in her blood and surfaced at even the oddest moments.