It had been a very strange morning for Emma. The phone call had roused from the dozing, not-quite-awake state that proceeded a hard sleep after a long shift at work, and the news that came with it had done more to wake her up than a shot of espresso.

She had memories of Henry this little, remembered tucking him in for bedtime and naps, singing silly songs and reading nursery rhymes, snuggling together on lazy weekends--but she'd never actually done any of that. Her arms had never actually been the ones holding him, and Emma didn't even know any damned nursery rhymes.

She spent the rest of the morning frantically straightening up her apartment, rearranging furniture to cover electrical outlets, moving anything that could be remotely dangerous to the hallway closet, and pacing. Her nerves were well and truly shot by the time Regina knocked on the door, but she did her best to put on a neutral face and conceal how absolutely terrified she was.

The sleepy little bundle of toddler reaching for her shattered that cover almost immediately. Emma wrapped Henry up tightly in her arms as she lifted him from Regina's, eyes squeezed shut against the tears that wanted to fall. She didn't want to upset Henry by blubbering all over him, and she hid her anguished expression against his little shoulder until she got it under control.

"Hey little man," she cooed, voice only a little constricted and raspy. After a moment or two she took a breath and looked up, steadier now, holding her hand out to accept the bag from Regina.

"Thanks--do you, uh, do you want to come in?"