A/N: I apologize for the length of time it took to get this chapter up. I tried to work a Halloween story-a-day, but my kiddo caught a bug and all writing had to be shelved for the time being.
That being said, here's the first chapter of the final part of my trilogy. I hope you enjoy this as much as you did the first two. My goal is to post one per week, but with two little ones and coming into the Halloween-Thanksgiving-Christmas craziness, that may not always be attainable. This story WILL be finished, that I promise.
As before, Laurathechef worked her usual magic getting this story ready. I claim no ownership of the show, it's fanfiction, not meant to resemble any real people, places, or events, yadda yadda yadda.
Chapter 1: Trauma
"Is she alive?" Snow nearly shrieked.
David rushed forward to check Regina's pulse, exhaling in relief when he felt the strong, steady thrum of her heartbeat. "She's just exhausted her energy. We need to get her to the hospital so she can rest and get some fluids."
Snow flung her hand to the open door. "Storybrooke's only ambulance just left!"
"Then I guess I'm the ambulance." He gathered Regina in his arms bridal-style, shaking off the irrelevant thought that she was much smaller than he expected her to be. Her regal stature and commanding presence directed attention away from her physical dimensions. Sidling out of the doorway to avoid smacking her head on the frame, he rushed down the stairs as fast as possible, Snow right on his heels. When they got to the truck, she reclined the seat so he could lay the Mayor down.
"Snow," he started, but she didn't give him the chance.
"Go! Take her and check on Emma. I'll get Henry and Neal," his wife exclaimed, giving him a kiss before dashing off.
He shook his head, bounding into the drivers' seat to rush Regina to Storybrooke General Hospital.
Beep.
... "She's losing a lot of blood! Get a bag started NOW!"
Beep.
… "BP is ninety-five over sixty and dropping fast!"
Beep. Beep.
… "She's losing way too much blood! We need to get it stopped fast!"
Beep. Beep.
… "Hanging two units of O-positive and running fluids wide open now!"
Beep. Beep.
… "Can't this bucket of bolts go any faster?"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
… "Yeah, Storybrooke OR: we have a female stab victim en route. Bad shape. Possibly compromised organs. BP is falling and pulse is skyrocketing. We need an OR ready to go yesterday!"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
… "Do we have any ID on the patient?"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
… "Are you kidding me? It's the Saviour!"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
… "Holy shit we have to move. Tell the doc to be waiting in the ambulance bay. She might not last all the way to the OR."
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
… "Pulse is getting worse! How far out?"
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
… "Two more miles. Pushing as fast as I can go on these streets!"
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
… "We don't have much more time! Get us to the ER as fast as you can!"
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
… "Pulse is crashing! Charging the paddles!"
… "CLEAR!" ZAP!
… "Nothing! Trying again. Come on, stay with me here!"
…. "CLEAR!" ZAP!
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
For once Emma wasn't in the fiery room.
Darkness enveloped her, surrounded her. As consciousness slowly returned, she felt like she was swimming through a vat of maple syrup. Her body felt leaden, making the syrupy sensation more intense. She fought to wake up, too used to the slumber to wake up that quickly.
The blackness started to turn to grey, another color she hadn't seen in a very long time. Her limbs started to feel less sluggish, but when she tried to sit up, the searing pain shooting down her side dropped her back. She concentrated all her energy on waking up, but it felt like she was drunker than she'd ever been in her life.
Awareness was coming slowly, but it was coming back. She tried to sit up, her limbs refused to obey her mind's command to push. Emma grunted with the effort, gritting her teeth against sudden agony ripping through her abdomen. Screwing her eyes closed, she forced her mind to push the haze away. It cleared slowly, with a reluctance that surprised her. An indeterminate amount of time later – since she couldn't exactly look at a clock; light started making her vision brighter as the fog cleared enough that she could start making out shapes.
There was a strange pattern of squares over her head. They were fascinating, and she spent an uncertain amount of time just staring at them. As her eyes cleared, she saw banks of fluorescent lights, built-in sprinklers, and heard the hum of electronics that she couldn't see. Lifting her head the small amount she was able to with the ache pounding against the inside of her skull, Emma saw that she was in a hospital room, which made sense given the abdominal pain. Her arms were growing lighter with her increasing awareness, and her fingers twitched in an effort to move.
With another effort, she was able to turn her head to learn more of her situation. A series of tubes connected her to an even larger series of machines. A painful tube down her throat was forcing her to breathe. There was an IV drip in her elbow, a pulse ox on her finger, and the slight discomfort in her groin was…she lifted the sheet…yes, she had a catheter. Emma whimpered a little. In the corner of her eye, she noticed a jagged black line running down her side. Stitches.
Oh God, she thought, the Dark One found a way to wake me and has me trapped for his plan. He's probably going to siphon my magic and use it to destroy the town. Either that or Ingrid finally got to me and needs to me for her own plan. They just need to get to me as soon as I'm out of here.
The reality of her helplessness set in and in her growing panic, Emma started gasping for breath around the breathing tube, which started the cycle of increasing pain driving increasing panic and increasing breathing rates, sending her agony even higher. Her pulse started racing, echoed by the frantic beeping from the heart monitor. The commotion eventually brought a pair of nurses and a large orderly rushing into her room. The orderly immediately put both hands on her shoulders, pushing her upper body back against the bed. Normally a strong woman, Emma was powerless against such force in her weakened state.
"Princess Emma! You have to calm down," the blonde nurse, a young woman about Emma's age, pleaded. "This tube is helping you breathe! I know it's uncomfortable but you have to let it do its work. The doctor will be along presently now that you're awake to see if you're ready to come off it."
While the first nurse tried to reason with her, the second, a brunette who seemed a bit older to Emma's frantically assessing eyes, started fiddling with the various machines in the room, bringing an end to the cacophony. Eventually Emma gave up the pointless struggle and sat back against the bed. Nurse Number Two joined her colleague. "Good. We're going to go get the surgeon for you, so he can check his work and tell all of us what the next steps will be. Can you be a good girl long enough for that?"
In her newly-wakened state, everything Emma saw was a threat to her. She'd pricked her finger with the Sleeping Curse with the belief that Rumplestiltskin and the Snow Queen were coming for her body, blood, and very soul, and waking up in a hospital with a wound in her side drove that panic.
Her only chance was to get the nurses and orderly out of the room. Unable to speak, Emma nodded, watching warily as they made their way back to their stations. Ignoring the stabbing pain in her side, she struggled to her feet, fighting the panic and pain. She had to escape.
She counted to ten and pulled the pulse ox off her finger. That was the easy part. Wincing, Emma yanked out the IV, ignoring the blood that welled up at the injection site. Gritting her teeth as best she could around the breathing tube, she reached under the sheets and withdrew the catheter, trying not to gasp at how much it hurt. Last but most certainly not least, she took the breathing tube and pulled it out centimeter by agonizing centimeter. The sensation of something being removed from her esophagus was jarring, and when it scraped against the back of her throat it triggered her gag reflex. She tried to get most of the bile she vomited into the garbage pail next to her bed, but wasn't entirely successful.
Emma took a quick drink from the small cup of water the orderly had left, loving the feeling of the cold water soothing her traumatized throat. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she eased onto her feet, ignoring the cacophony of beeps, buzzes, and squeals from the machines surrounding her bed. Her head swam, but Emma shook it off, desperate to escape.
A few more staggering steps saw her to the hallway. Grunting at the strain on her body and trying to ignore the abdominal pain, Emma eased into the passage. Bumping into a cart next to her door, Emma had to lunge to maintain her balance and felt a tugging in the same spot where her pain was. As she recovered her balance, she felt a warm something trickling down her leg.
Fortunately for her, no dark magic users appeared to chase after her. As she moved to her left, she reached out for the handle on the wall to keep her balance on her unsteady legs. Footsteps sounded behind her, causing her to struggle down the hall even faster. There was no way that Gold or Ingrid was going to get her in their clutches.
Her knees finally gave out at the same time her consciousness failed her. The last thing she heard before face-planting onto the floor was the sound of people rushing up behind her.
Regina's trip back to wakefulness was much less traumatic than Emma's. She also woke up with an IV replacing her fluids, but as her magic replenished she gradually came out of her coma. Her eyes blinked open slowly, confused by the bright lights after the darkness in her house. Recognizing the décor of a medical facility along with the IV pumping fluid into her veins, she flashed back to the last memory she had – kissing Emma and collapsing – and deduced that she was in Storybrooke's hospital recovering from her massive magical depletion.
Henry was sitting in the chair, scribbling away in a notebook. The rush of warmth that flooded through her at seeing that her son cared enough to sit by her bed while he worked on his homework surprised her, but she was too out of it still to care too much. Her son loved her, and that was all her world needed in that moment.
"Henry?" she rasped, throat scratchy from being unused.
His head snapped over to her with an ear-to-ear smile. "Mom! You're awake!"
"How long have I been asleep for?" She asked, struggling to sit up in the bed.
Henry sprang over to help, easing her up with a hand under her arm and surprising her with his strength. Her little boy was growing up. "Just overnight. Dr. Whale said he wasn't sure how much, the magic you used affected your overall energy; and no one would let Blue in to look at you."
With a grimace, she swallowed some of the ice water he handed her from the tray next to her bed, but the cool relief it brought her throat was worth it. "What happened to Gold?"
She was prepared for quite a few different doomsday scenarios, from Rumplestiltskin using the Author to return to the Enchanted Forest to the Author making Gold the king of Storybrooke, Maine, the United States, or this entire realm, but Henry's laughter wasn't one of them. "Well, um, about that. Here's the thing: he's nuts."
"We all knew that," she snarked back at him with a smile that belied her true feeling.
He shook his head, laughing harder. "No, no. I mean it literally. The True Love's Kiss pulse that woke Ma up somehow was so powerful that it removed the enchantment from the ink. It must have sensed the malice in his intent, or something. The ink is useless, and he kind of lost it. Blue showed up and was able to freeze him in place before putting on a magic-suppressing cuff. The other fairies used some fairy dust and the last of their squid ink to enchant the bars of a prison cell in the mines. He can't get out, and when he realized that, Gramps kind of went crazy. He was raving about getting his son back and a bunch of other nonsense."
"So there's no more Dark One to trouble Storybrooke?"
"According to the Blue Fairy, even if his heart gives out and he dies, when the Darkness escapes his body, the enchantment is strong enough to keep that behind those bars. The Dark One is gone forever, mom!" Henry exclaimed.
"I can't believe it," Regina breathed, feeling a weight almost tangibly roll off her shoulders.
"Believe it, Mom. It's all over now."
She took a deep breath, feeling her strength return and wishing it helped her courage. "What about Emma?"
Henry's light-hearted face took on a darker look, and when he spoke, his voice was subdued. "It was rough for a while. Whale said that if you hadn't stopped her bleeding for a few minutes and the paramedics hadn't gotten to the hospital when they did, she'd have bled out. I didn't understand all the details, but he said something about her spleen being lacerated along with a major artery. They had to do some major surgery, but she came through it okay."
"So is she awake somewhere in this same building?"
"Weeeelll….." he trailed off, knowing she wasn't going to like his answer.
"Henry?" Regina asked, dread settling like a concrete ball in her belly.
He sighed, and looked at his feet before meeting her gaze. "She did wake up already, but somehow it must have been before she was ready, because apparently she tried to…well…escape."
"She what?!" Regina yelled, immediately regretting the abuse on her sore throat.
"She must have thought that Grandpa or Ingrid had gotten her after all, because she pulled out all the tubes connecting her to the machines and got into the hallway. She tried to use magic to get away when she heard people coming to get her back in her bed, but it didn't work. I guess after being out for so long and then having major surgery she wasn't in any condition to try that, so they were able to get her back in bed."
Regina huffed. "I hope they gave the foolish woman a heavy sedative after that little escapade."
At this Henry grinned. "Oh yeah they did. She's been out for a while now."
An idea occurred to Regina, one that would be best for all concerned, but she knew that telling her son to do it would only get him in trouble with Emma when she found out. "I know what to do to help her, but it's something that I won't ask anyone else to do. I'm feeling much better, much stronger now that I've had a chance to sleep off the weariness. Let's get me checked out and home so I can pick up some supplies."
"Are you going to heal her with magic?"
Pursing her lips, she looked at her son with the scolding expression he remembered from before the Curse broke. "I could do that, but I would need more time to build my energy reserves back up, and there would be risks."
"Risks? What risks could there be from healing magic?" he asked
"Well, I can heal a scrape or burn in my sleep, it's true, but with an internal injury that severe, there's always the chance that since I couldn't see the tissue I was trying to reknit that I'd get it wrong somehow and hurt her in the process. Plus it wouldn't teach her anything. Sometimes people need the healing process to learn to avoid the situations that got them hurt in the first place," she explained as only a mother could.
With a raised eyebrow, Henry waited for her to elaborate, but she only asked him to go get the nurse and let her get dressed in privacy.
The next time Emma woke up, she was alone in the same room as before. Looking around, she saw the IV connected to her arm, felt the catheter down below, and heard the steady beeping and hissing of the vital sign monitors. The only difference this time was they were accompanied by a cannula to help her breathe better.
She sighed, but took comfort in the familiarity. Having almost escaped once already, she was confident in her ability to make it out again.
Reaching to unhook her IV, she found the attempt cut short. Something cold and hard rattled against her wrists when she tried to move them. She knew what they were even before her eyes confirmed the handcuffs binding her to the bed rails. When she tried to kick her feet in frustration, Emma discovered they were secured to the bottom of the bed with soft straps.
It was difficult, but she'd escaped from worse ever since she'd discovered her ability to use magic. Closing her eyes, Emma tried to summon her powers, willing herself free of the bindings.
Nothing happened.
"Shit!" she hissed, feeling the pain of using her throat. Her magic must still be depleted after expending so much to protect her sleeping place. Then as she shifted, she felt an unexpected sensation along her right wrist. Looking down, she saw the leather magic-suppressing cuff they'd used on Cora.
"Son of a BITCH!"
A/N: There we go! I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews, comments, and constructive criticism are always appreciated.
