Note: Do not own, just borrowing.
If I had to place this, I'd say in and around 5.19 "Sisters". Ignore everything after that. But honestly, this story doesn't even really reference what's going on in canon. It is a strong, independent woman who doesn't need canon.
"Emma. Emma, wake up, honey."
Emma frowned, stirring as she tried to sit. She was incredibly stiff, and when she opened her eyes, it took her a second before she remembered where she was.
"It's been two days, Emma. You need to get up. It's not good for you to be sitting for so long.
"I'm not leaving."
"You can leave her side for a few minutes to rest or get something to eat. You need to get up-"
"I said I'm not leaving."
"Emma…"
She ignored her mother, shifting in her wheelchair for a more comfortable position. She rubbed her neck, trying to work out the kink from having slept propped up. She could feel her mother's eyes on her, but she refused to look over.
"I slept for almost two days. I'm fine."
"You're not fine, Emma. Your body is still recovering. You're not doing yourself any favours by not allowing it to rest. Do you really think she would mind if you left to take a shower? Or if you left to get yourself something to eat? You haven't left this room in two days. You can take a few minutes to yourself."
Emma clamped down on her anger. She was not going to lash out on her mother. She took a deep breath to calm herself down.
"She didn't nearly lose her life to then just be abandoned. I'm not leaving her."
"You're not abandoning her. You're giving yourself a break. You need to rest. The magic you did to get us out of there-"
"That she did to get us out of there! She did that. She's the reason you're standing here today. She did all of the work! I just stood there, a glorified battery."
And it was true. While they faced Hades, she had been minimally helpful. Regina was the one who took the offensive, attacking him while Emma did her best to back her up. She fought as well, but nothing like Regina. And when she saw they were starting to lose ground, that Hades was advancing on them, she reached out and wrapped her hand around Regina's wrist. It had been a reflex, an instinct to tie herself to the other woman in order to make sure she didn't lose her. She wanted to protect her, but the second their hands made contact, Regina's magic boomed out of her and tripled in strength. They fought hard, and while Regina had tapped into Emma's magic to amplify her own, she had still primarily used her own. Despite her efforts, Emma eventually began to weaken, so Regina let go and fought until she had nearly drained herself dry of magic. She would have, had Emma not reached out and given her one last boost to defeat the man who held them prisoner.
Mary Margaret sighed, bringing Emma back to the present.
"You did much more than that, Emma."
She shrugged, turning back to the woman laying much too still on the hospital bed.
"Do they know how we can wake her up? It's been four days. She should be awake by now."
"I know."
The truth was, they had no idea how to bring her back. Gold was the Dark One and hadn't been seen since they'd left the Underworld, so they couldn't ask him. Belle had disappeared, so she couldn't do any research. The Blue Fairy hadn't been much help either, but she did offer one suggestion. She offered the idea that Emma could push some of her magic into Regina in an effort to replenish what she had lost.
Emma's magic was borne of true love, the strongest of all connections. It had healing powers which Regina's did not. The two days Emma had spent unconscious in the hospital bed had allowed her magic to heal her body. The Blue Fairy suggested that perhaps it could do the same for Regina, who had nearly died from having used up so much of her magic. Magic was deeply tied to one's energy, she'd explained, one's life force. If you drained yourself of all of it, or if it was completely extracted from your body, it would kill you. Regina was hanging on by a thread, and the longer they waited, the less likely she was to wake up. Her magic needed a boost, and she told Emma that once she was better, she could be the one to offer it to Regina.
Emma, however, was never one to listen to rules or warnings. When her mother left to get them dinner, she had reached out to Regina. Emma had only been awake one day and she was very weak, but she was still able to summon some of her magic. She let it travel up her arm and into Regina's skin. After just a few seconds though, she suddenly felt dizzy and the next thing she remembered was being woken by her frantic mother. When Mary Margaret had learnt what happened, Emma had received an angry speech, complete with tears and minor hysteria. She promised to wait, feeling guilty that she had forgotten about Henry. You need to think of him, Emma! He already has one mother who is fighting for her life. He doesn't need a second one to be doing the same!
Now, day two of being awake, Emma was even more drained than yesterday. She knew she needed to rest, that she needed to take care of herself, but she couldn't leave Regina. She hadn't showered, and she had been in the same hospital gown for two days. She was sure she was starting to smell, but the idea of leaving Regina terrified her. What if something happened? What if she needed to bring out her magic again to help Regina? What if someone tried to hurt her, now that she was vulnerable and completely defenseless? Worst of all, what if she woke up and she was all alone?
"Henry's on his way. Maybe you can take a shower once he's here? He wouldn't let anything happen to his mother, you know that."
The two sat in silence until Charming and Henry finally joined them, both wearing solemn faces. Charming carried Neal in his arms, passing the baby to his wife when she reached out for her son. They hadn't put him down since they'd returned home, and while Emma understood, she also felt an irrational twinge of jealousy. Rather than focusing on that emotion (this was really not the time nor the place), she watched her son approach his mother and kiss her on the forehead.
When she had watched him kiss his mother yesterday, Emma had prayed it would wake Regina. After all, Regina had saved him with her true love's kiss, breaking the curse and allowing Henry's memories to return. She had hoped it would work in reverse, but it hadn't. Regina lay just as still as ever, and the disappointment had stirred deep in Emma's belly. Even today, she couldn't help but hope a little when Henry kissed his mother. But when she searched her face, Regina's features were just as still as before.
Henry approached his other mother, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing the side of her head.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm alright."
"She still hasn't moved?" he asked.
"No, still nothing."
He nodded, standing next to her for a few minutes.
"Ma, I'm not trying to get rid of you, but if mom wakes up soon, you're really not going to want her to see you like you are right now. Maybe you should change your clothes or… wash your hair?"
"I tried to convince her earlier."
Henry ignored his grandmother, squatting down to look his ma in the eyes.
"I promise I won't leave her alone. I know you're afraid, but it'll be okay. She hasn't moved yet. I think she's still too weak to. But if anything happens, I'll send someone to get you, okay?"
Emma looked at him. He could see the hesitance in her eyes, so he used what worked best with his ma: humour.
"Do you really want mom to see you looking like you went to Hell and back?"
Emma couldn't help the small chuckle. She really loved this kid.
"That was a good one, kid."
He grinned proudly.
"Thanks. But seriously, ma. I'll take care of her. You'll be back before she even knows you're gone."
"Fine," she relented. She knew they were right. She couldn't keep sitting. It had been over forty eight hours since she'd moved from this position, and her body did need to move.
Mary Margaret handed Neal over to Charming, making her way to Emma.
"I'll bring you, sweetheart. You can't be there alone."
"You are not helping me shower. I can do it alone."
"Honey, you can't stand on your own."
"There's a chair in the stall. I saw it yesterday," Henry provided helpfully. "Ma, you could sit on it instead of standing up."
"Thanks, kid."
"I'll bring you to the shower then and help you sit, but I won't go inside. How about that?"
Emma sighed and nodded. She allowed her mother to wheel her to her room, stopping to get a fresh gown along the way.
"Can you please bring me something else tomorrow? Like some real clothes? I would kill to be in my jeans."
"You wouldn't be able to get out of them to go to the bathroom. You still don't have that much energy. I can bring you a dress if you want."
Emma grimaced.
"How about my jogging pants and that beige knitted sweater?"
"The one with the hole for your head that is much too large?"
Emma rolled her eyes.
"It's made that way. The sweater is supposed to hang off your shoulder."
"The fashion here can be very peculiar, Emma."
She smiled in response.
"Yeah, it can be."
Her mother wheeled her into the bathroom, helping her into the shower and onto the seat.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"
"I'm sure."
"Okay," Mary Margaret responded, trying not to let herself feel hurt. She hated that Emma never wanted her help.
She reached for the travel size shampoo and conditioner instead of focusing on that thought, leaving them within reach of Emma's hands.
"I'll bring you your shampoo from the house tomorrow, okay?"
"Can you bring the conditioner too, please?" she asked quietly.
"Of course, honey," Mary Margaret replied, kissing her daughter's temple. "I'm going to be right outside the door. Please call me if you need anything okay? I'm not going to leave until you're done."
"Thanks, mom."
Mary Margaret beamed, just as she always did when Emma called her "mom". She left with a smile, and it did warm Emma to know that such a simple act made the woman happy. It still felt strange, and sometimes she preferred to call her Mary Margaret, but after everything they'd been through the past few years and knowing how happy it made her mother to use the title, Emma tried to do so when the opportunity arose.
She reached behind her and tugged at the string at her lower back, loosening the tie of the gown. She ripped it off and sighed happily when she was naked, tossing the soiled linen onto the floor. She was happy to note that the shower head swivelled, so she turned it away from her as she turned on the water. Once it was hot, she turned it back to her body. Her eyes lit up when she noticed the height could be adjusted, so she played with that for a while, alternatively letting the water beat against her feet and then against her back as she soaped different areas of her body.
"Emma? Are you okay?"
Emma stopped playing with the shower head, suddenly feeling guilty for enjoying the hot water while Regina lay in bed unconscious.
"Yeah. I'll be out in a minute."
She grabbed the shampoo, pouring a generous amount of liquid in her palm before raising her arms to scrub it through her hair. She had only spent a few seconds trying to work it through her tangles when her arms dropped, suddenly exhausted. She had never realised how much energy it took to reach up and wash her hair. It was incredibly heavy now that it was wet.
She let herself take a small break before reaching up again, forcing her arms up for several more seconds before they collapsed onto her lap. She grunted in frustration, knowing that even if she managed to rinse out the soap, she wouldn't be able to do a second round for the conditioner. She was just too tired. She suddenly felt like crying.
"Emma? Emma, what's wrong?"
"I can't wash my hair," she whimpered, the soothing sound of her mother's voice causing tears to build in her eyes.
"I'm going to come in, okay?"
Emma looked away, her hands coming up to cover herself. She swiped at her tears, angry with herself for getting upset over something so stupid.
"Hey," she said gently. "I'm not going to look, okay? I'm just going to wash your hair."
Emma said nothing, knowing she had no choice. She felt incredibly vulnerable, and that was a feeling she desperately hated.
Mary Margaret, however, tried hard to hide her smile. She wasn't happy that Emma was upset, far from it. But she had always dreamed about bathing her daughter (mind you, Emma had been a child in those daydreams), washing her hair, and then combing it out as they sat together and giggled. She had envisioned a close relationship, one where Emma would come to her for everything, just had Mary Margaret had done with her own mother. Emma though was so independent, so determined to do things on her own that she rarely let anyone do anything for her. It hurt, when Mary Margaret thought about it too much. It hurt knowing everything she had lost. And it hurt every time Emma said she didn't want her help. So she hid her smile, but she couldn't help but feel at least a little pleasure at being able to help her daughter.
She brought herself back to the present, focusing on what she could do now for her. Emma needed her, and that something Mary Margaret rarely got to enjoy.
"Can you pass me the shampoo?"
Emma handed her the bottle, taking it back a moment later when her mother finished with it. She closed her eyes and sighed into the fingers scratching at her scalp. As much as she felt exposed in front of her mother, it was also kind of nice to feel her fingers massaging her scalp. She had rarely gotten to enjoy this luxury as a child, and God damn if it didn't feel good.
"Lean your head back okay?"
Emma nodded, leaning back. She felt a warm hand support the bottom of her head, while another hand ran through her hair. She was grateful, because her hair was incredibly heavy and she wasn't sure she could have held her head up without the help. She sat up and passed over the conditioner, closing her eyes as her mother worked it into her curls. She relaxed back into the chair, suddenly less concerned about the fact that she was naked. The touch was incredibly soothing. Far too soon though, Mary Margaret coaxed her backward and rinsed out the conditioner.
"Did you need some time to wash your body?"
"No, I already did."
"Okay, I'm going to turn the water off now."
Emma shivered when the shower stopped, grateful for the towel her mother handed her (even though it was too small and incredibly scratchy). She wrapped it around herself and gave a small moan of satisfaction when her mother began towelling her hair.
"I don't have a brush, but I'll send your father to the gift shop to see if there's something there."
Emma suddenly smiled. Your father. She had a father who would fetch things for her and a mother who washed her hair. She almost enjoyed the moment, this precious second where she had both a mother and a father caring for her. But then the reality of where she was and why she was there hit, and she was suddenly solemn again.
"Are you dry enough to put on your gown?"
"I don't want to wear that thing."
"I know, honey, but you haven't got much of a choice."
Emma sighed and stuck out her arms, leaning on her mother for help as she stood.
"Your back is still wet," Mary Margaret commented absentmindedly, drying it quickly before tying the back of the gown. She helped Emma to the wheelchair, frowning when she saw her shiver. She should have known Emma would be cold. She chastised herself for not placing a blanket down before she sat.
"Mom?"
"Sorry," she murmured, reaching down and removing her sweater. "Here. Put this on."
"But you'll be cold."
"I'll steal your dad's sweater if I need to."
"Poor dad," she said, slipping the god awful yellow sweater that was so warm over her head. "He always gets shafted."
Upon seeing her mother's confusion, she explained further.
"He's always sent to do the errands and to give up his coat or to sit on the uncomfortable chair."
"I spent a year and a half of my life carrying his children. I'll spend another ten months, or longer, if we decide to have more. I now bear stretch marks from those children and spent two full days combined in labour to birth them. I entertained his drunken friends after they went hunting and endured his endless inebriated chatter when we went to bed. I love him, but I have put up with much of his nonsense. The least he can do is fetch me a brush or give me his coat when I tell him to."
Emma smiled, holding onto the arms of the wheelchair as her mother wheeled her back to Regina's room. Her mother really did have a temper if you hit the right nerve.
"Ma," Henry greeted. "You look a lot better."
"Thanks, kid."
"You smell a lot better too."
She gave a small laugh, shoving him gently.
"You're lucky I'm weak. I'd give you the biggest wedgie for that one."
He grinned, leaning against her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
"Emma, your mother and I going to go to the gift shop and look for a brush and maybe grab some lunch. Do you want anything in particular?"
"The biggest burger you can find."
"You got it. You guys going to be okay while we're gone?"
"We'll be fine. See you soon."
As soon as they left, Henry slipped from his mother and went to the other, stroking her cheek.
"Say something to her, Henry. She'd want you to talk to her."
"You're sure she can hear me?"
Emma had no idea if Regina could understand anything that was going on, but she had been encouraging Henry to talk to her. So far, he'd been too shy to do it in front of his grandparents, but alone or with his Ma, he had said a few sentences to her. Emma was afraid Regina was lost inside of herself, perhaps in a dark place where she was alone. She hoped that hearing their voices offered her some kind of comfort.
"I'm sure she'd love to hear your voice."
It didn't answer his question, but he accepted the response and turned to his mother. He told her about nearly sleeping through his alarm this morning and that he accidentally put on one navy blue and one black sock. He hadn't wanted to be late when visiting hours started, so he hadn't bothered changing. He told her everyone could see that he was wearing different coloured socks so she'd better wake up and tell him to change. (He waited several minutes, but she didn't stir).
So he then told her about his evenings with his grandparents, sharing meals and playing games together. He boasted about his new high score in MarioKart, he and his grandfather trying every night to beat the other's score. Last night Henry had won. He spoke about the new book he was reading, prompting Emma to ask him if he had remembered the book she had asked him for (he had). He told her of the hours they had been spending researching, looking for any kind of lead to help them figure out what to do. He then told her he was proud of her, and told her how much he missed her. Emma's heart broke when he promised to let her tuck him in (an activity he had stated he was much too old for whenever Regina tried lately) if only she'd wake up.
Henry bit his lip and joined his ma, dropping down onto a plastic chair next to her.
"I miss her," he said, eyes welling up with tears.
Emma pulled him into her arms, ignoring the arm of the chair digging into her ribs.
"Me too, kid. Me too."
"I love my family, but God damn it is nice when they leave. I know you feel the same way. You're probably cursing how much time they spend here, but it's nice too to have them around. I guess to see Henry, you kinda have to put up with my mom. Now you're stuck with my rambling all over again. Lucky you.
So the book Henry brought, it's called The Chrysalids. It's actually my favourite book. I'm not sure you knew that. I don't think it's one you'd have chosen to read on your own since it's kinda sci-fi-y but I like it. I was thinking I could read it to you when I run out of things to say. I know, it's not likely to happen. I can hear your voice in my head, all sassy about the fact that I never stop talking. But the truth is, I'm kinda worried about you, you know? I don't know if you can hear anything or if you can see anything, if you could feel Henry touching your hand. I'm afraid you're scared and maybe hearing our voices helps. Maybe you can't hear any of this and I'm talking to myself like an idiot, but what else is new?" Emma shrugged, wheeling the chair closer. It was difficult because she didn't have much energy, but she was pleased with herself for even bringing it just a few inches closer.
"I don't know if you can tell, but there's less lights on now that it's evening. It's kinda quiet too, which is a little creepy. I can still hear people walking around even though your door is closed, and every time they walk by I think they're going to come in here and start harassing me to leave. I wouldn't, and I hope you know that. I'm not going anywhere until you're awake. And if you want me to stay when you're awake, then I'll gladly stay here with you.
You know that I don't really trust people, and I know you don't either. We're kind of similar in that sense. Well, we're kind of similar in a lot of senses and total opposites in others, but anyway that's not what I was trying to say. What I'm trying to say is, I trust you and I hope you trust me too. You were the only one I could trust to do what needed to be done when I was the Dark One, and you were the only one who fought back and put me in my place when I went really Dark.
You've always been there to make the hard decisions that you knew needed to be done, when my parents were too weak to make them. It seems you're always there, knowing what I want. You know me a lot better than … well, pretty much everyone in this town and maybe it's the kid, you know, our connection to him and spending so much time together that you've just gotten to know me. Or maybe it's that we have both overcome shit that no one else in this place has. I know you've lived a harder life than I have, and I know you've faced hurt and betrayal in a way that I never have. But you've always had my back, Regina, and I hope you know I have yours. You've always been there for me when I need you and I want you to know that I'm here too. You're really vulnerable right now and I know you like to be in that state about as much as I do. I know that you wouldn't let anyone hurt me if I were the one lying in that bed and I know that you'd work yourself to death to bring me back.
I feel guilty, Regina. I'm sorry it's you. I wish it were me, because you'd probably know what to do. I have no idea, and I'm just sitting here uselessly until I can get strong enough to try Blue's idea of … juicing you back up," she cringed as she said it, but she didn't know how else to word it. "I promise I'm going to do whatever I can to help you. I'm not going to let you stay like this forever."
Emma stopped, gathering her thoughts.
"I don't know what you can see. I'm not sure what you're aware of or if you can tell when different people come in. I don't even know if you know where you are. I explained yesterday that you're at the hospital. I'm sorry if you remember, but I just want you to know. You're in the hospital. You almost died trying to get us out of the Underworld. You used so much of your magic that you're kind of like... in a coma. Whale said he thinks this is sort of like the sleeping curse you put on my mom, except you're not sleeping. Your body is just… drained. So it's gone into this hibernation mode, but we don't know how long it'll last or if you can pull out of it on your own. So everyone is trying to figure out how to get you out of it, while at the same time waiting to see if you'll improve. It's been a few days and you haven't really changed much.
I don't really understand it all, so I'm sorry if I'm confusing you more. Maybe with my rambling you can kinda decipher what I'm saying because you usually get what I'm trying to tell you, even when everyone else is confused as hell. We both know I'm not the best at explaining stuff."
Now tired beyond belief, Emma used the last of her energy to bring herself right up to Regina's bed. Talking was exhausting her, and she knew she should sleep. She wheeled herself until her knees were under the frame of the bed, reaching for the pillow at Regina's hip. She pulled it to her and rested her head on it, reaching out and holding Regina's hand.
"I don't know if you're scared, but if you are, try not to be, okay?" she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere and I'm sure as hell not gonna let anyone in here to touch you. No one's going to hurt you while I'm around, okay? I promise I'll protect you."
Emma fell asleep. Regina didn't stir. She lay still as ever, but in the quiet space in which she found herself, surrounded by blackness and a strange warmth around her left hand, only one thought came to Regina's mind:
I know.