Title: Safeguard
Summary: "We'll get another lead sooner rather than later, and I promise you, we will find Henry. Right now, though, I'm more concerned about you. What happened?" "Tree root," Emma grumbled, glaring in the direction of the exposed root. "I tripped on it and twisted my ankle. I can move it so it's not broken but ..." "You can't stand on it," David finished for her.
Spoilers: Set post-3x01, "The Heart of the Truest Believer."
Rating/Warning: T, for language, mostly. Family fluff and hurt/comfort, because yes.
Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I borrowed them because it's going to be a very long three months until we get some new material.
Author's Note: Xelbie asked me many moons ago for a story involving Emma getting injured in some way and Charming having to take care of her. So be prepared for some father/daughter goodness as this progresses, along with a dose of mother/daughter bonding and probably some pre-Captain Swan flirtation, just because I don't think I'll be able to restrain myself. ;) Feedback makes me a happy girl. Enjoy!
"Emma!" David called after her. "Emma, slow down!"
Though she'd heard him, Emma Swan did not make any effort to slow down. The Lost Boy she was chasing certainly wasn't going to slow down. They hadn't even been in Neverland for two full days yet, and she'd already had enough of it. All she wanted was to get Henry back and then get the hell off this damn island. If the kid currently leading her on a whirlwind tour of the jungle could help her with either of those two goals, she was not about to let him get away.
The boy turned a corner on the path and headed down into some kind of ravine. Emma skidded a little on the wet leaves covering the jungle floor as she made the sharp turn, but she swiftly regained her footing. The humidity hanging in the Neverland air made everything damp and wilted, including the leaves on the ground.
As a matter of fact, the air here reminded her of the oppressively hot days during a Boston summer, when the temperature would climb into the high nineties with one hundred percent humidity. When the air was too thick to breathe and everything was limp and heavy. At least in Boston, the inevitable drenching thunderstorm would break the humidity and cool everything off. She highly doubted that would happen in Neverland.
Her father's footsteps pounded the ground as he ran behind her. From the sound of it, he'd caught up with her but she couldn't chance looking over her shoulder to check. The Lost Boy was pulling ahead of her. He knew the terrain; he had home-field advantage. She couldn't take her eyes off him for a second.
Emma was so focused on trying to keep the Lost Boy in her sight that she never saw the exposed tree root sticking up through the blanket of leaves. The toe of her boot caught on the root and her right ankle wrenched painfully as she tumbled to the ground, landing hard on her hands and knees. "Ow! Shit!"
"Emma!"
David was by her side within a fraction of a second. She immediately shook her head at him. "Not me, David, him! He's getting away!"
He looked torn. The grandfather within him did not want to let anyone who could have information on the whereabouts of his grandson slip away but the father within him didn't want to leave his little girl alone and injured in the Neverland jungle.
Emma made the decision for him. "I'm fine," she insisted, waving her hand after the boy. "Go! I'm right behind you."
Swallowing hard, David gave her a nod and then took off in a sprint, giving chase while trying to make up the distance they'd lost. Emma watched him go and then, panting heavily from both her run through the jungle and the pain of her fall, she tried to stand.
That was a really, really bad idea. The second she attempted to put weight on her injured ankle, she crashed right back down to the jungle floor. A stronger expletive escaped her lips as she smacked her palm against the ground in anger.
Well, now what? Okay, first things first. Since she couldn't get up and run, she needed to get the hell out of plain sight. She was a sitting duck at the moment. The last thing she needed was for that Lost Boy to have a buddy out there somewhere, ready to kick her while she was down. The reason she'd been chasing him at all was because she'd caught him spying on them. He was reporting to someone somewhere; that much was obvious.
Using her arms and her good leg, Emma managed to clumsily crab-walk off the path and huddle behind the trunk of the tree that had tripped her in the first place. The damn thing might as well be useful for something.
Second things second. She needed to determine the extent of her injury. Sitting with her back against the tree trunk, she pulled her knees towards her and placed both feet flat on the ground. She took a deep breath, set her shoulders, and once again attempted to put weight on her ankle. A sharp stab of pain shot up her shin, and she slumped back against the tree, utterly defeated.
All right, that test was an abysmal failure. How about range of motion? After taking another deep breath, she bit her lip, lifted her foot off the ground, and attempted to move it.
Though it hurt like friggin' hell, she could indeed move it. Up, down, left, and right. She even attempted a full circle and succeeded. It killed, but she did it. Whimpering softly, she lowered her foot back to the ground. Okay, so it wasn't broken. That was definitely good. Sprained, maybe. Wrenched, definitely, but not broken.
"Emma?"
Her father's voice floated up to her from somewhere towards the bottom of the ravine. What the hell was he doing? He was supposed to be chasing after the Lost Boy!
Before she a chance to holler that exact question back at him, he found her huddled behind the tree. His eyes widened in panic as he dropped to his knees beside her. "Are you all right? What happened?"
"No, the kid–"
"He disappeared on me once we got to the bottom," he told her, wincing in apology. "He was too far ahead of me, and he ended up taking one turn too many."
Emma groaned and banged the back of her her head against the tree trunk in frustration. They'd lost him. In the five seconds it had taken for her to fall and for David to slow down to check on her, the boy had pulled ahead enough to disappear.
That expletive slipped from her mouth again, unbidden. Then she realized she'd just sworn quite badly in front of her father, of all people. God-freakin'-dammit. "I'm sorry," she whispered, cringing.
"It's all right, Emma," he assured her, gripping her hand. She looked up sharply but calmed down when she caught the love in his eyes. "You're frustrated, worried, and injured. I'd be surprised if you weren't swearing."
She allowed a tiny smile at that. He smiled back and continued, "We'll get another lead sooner rather than later, and I promise you, we will find Henry. Right now, though, I'm more concerned about you. What happened?"
"Tree root," she grumbled, glaring in the direction of the exposed root. "I tripped on it and twisted my ankle. I can move it so it's not broken but ..."
"You can't stand on it," he finished for her when she let her sentence trail off. She nodded.
David took a deep breath and shifted position, sitting down on the ground in front of her. "I need to take a look at it, which means I need to take your boot off."
Her immediate reaction was to shake her head no. Getting her boot off was going to hurt like hell. She'd once tripped up the stairs as a kid while wearing snow boots and ended up wrenching her ankle a second time trying to take the boot off.
"I know, Emma, but I need to check it out."
Of course, he was absolutely correct. He had to examine her ankle. Plus, if she had indeed sprained it, her ankle was going to swell. If they didn't get her boot off now, they might not be able to get it off later.
Sighing in defeat, she nodded at him. The she leaned her head back against the tree trunk and squeezed her eyes shut. "All right, I'll go slowly," he said to her.
"No," she insisted, opening her eyes. "Like a Band-Aid. Just do it and get it over with."
He smiled at her as she lifted her leg off the ground. He gently placed her foot across his knees and grasped the heel of her boot. The second he gave a tug, sharp pain shot up her entire leg. Hot tears pricked her eyes, causing her to squeeze them shut again. An undignified whimper escaped her lips, because damn it, that hurt. "I'm sorry," he whispered while slipping off her boot as carefully as he could.
As soon as it was off, her ankle started to throb. Shit, shit, shit, maybe this was a bad idea. The boot had been applying pressure to the injury and now that the pressure was gone, the pain had exploded. She whimpered again, clenching the fallen leaves littering the jungle floor in her hands just for something to squeeze.
"Almost done, Emma," David assured her. She opened her eyes when she felt him grasp the top of her sock. At least the sock could be stretched, and it slipped off far more easily than the boot had.
The removal of her sock revealed an angry purple bruise already beginning to form around her ankle. Well, shit. That was not a good sign. Emma flicked her eyes up to David, who had paled when he saw the extent of his baby girl's injury.
Then his fatherly instincts must have kicked in. He schooled his features before meeting her eyes and giving her a comforting smile. "It's all right. We just have to get you back to camp so we can treat this."
Oh, crap. How in the hell was she going to get back to camp? As it stood now, she and David were halfway down the ravine, and they had chased the Lost Boy through the jungle for a couple hundred yards before he'd turned this way. The mere thought of making her way back to camp in her condition was exhausting. Not to mention friggin' painful.
And yet, Emma knew she had to try. They couldn't sit here for the rest of eternity, for one. There was a mission to accomplish, and sitting here was not getting either of them any closer to Henry. And for another, the two of them needed to get back to safety. Out in the open like this, with Emma unable to defend herself … she didn't even want to think of all the ways things could go wrong.
"Okay," she said to David, setting her shoulders to prepare herself for her next request. "Can you help me get my boot back on?"
Once again, he paled. "Emma–"
"We can take it off again once we get back to camp. I can't very well limp through the jungle in just my sock. Plus, the the boot will help give my ankle some support while we're walking."
David heaved a sigh but he couldn't deny that his daughter had a couple of decent points. Taking a deep breath himself, he helped her slip the boot back on her foot. Emma was pleased to note that it didn't hurt nearly as much going on as it did coming off. Hopefully she'd be able to put some weight on it now. The alternative was David carrying her up the ravine and back to camp, which, no way in hell.
A quick test proved that her ankle could indeed hold some weight and wouldn't automatically send her tumbling back down to the ground. With a combination of leaning against the tree for support and David helping her up, she managed to stand. "Are you going to be all right to walk?" he asked her, concern swimming in his eyes.
Emma shifted her weight on her feet to perform another quick test. Standing full weight on her right foot was a huge no-no, but limping would probably be all right. For a little while, at least. "Yeah, I should be okay," she replied, forcing a smile.
Of course, a father knew his child. David saw right through her faked smile so before she even took her first step, he grasped her arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. She gasped at the suddenness of his action and tried to pull away but he held firm.
Well, shit. Since struggling against his hold would only diminish the energy she needed to get back to camp, she gave up the fight with a frustrated huff. If he wanted to help her walk, then whatever.
She was almost embarrassed to note that her ankle already felt a little better with being able to lean on him. He caught her eye and smiled at her. For some reason, she found herself shyly smiling back in gratitude.
No one needed to know any of that, though. Once they got back to camp, there was sure to be a flurry of activity; concern from Snow and probably Hook and more than likely derision from Regina. The last thing Emma needed was for any of them to see her limping in her father's arms.
And then he winked at her, and she immediately felt so much better about the whole David having to support her thing. He was silently telling her that he would keep this little moment of her weakness between the two of them. Thank friggin' goodness.
Now came the hard parts: making her way back to camp on a bad ankle and keeping her mother from flipping the hell out when they arrived.