As Regina was being wheeled into the operating room she couldn't help but be clouded by a moments feeling of doubt. What the hell was she doing?
It was the dumbest thing, really, she and Kathryn had made a bet back in high school that the first to have a child would be safe from donation of a kidney. Why? They didn't know, maybe it was partially due to Regina's fear of children and Kathryn's fear of surgical supplies, but really, they were sticklers for a good competition.
Here she is, fifteen years later, about to donate a kidney to a total stranger. When Kathryn gave birth about a year and a half ago, the bet had been completely forgotten, but three weeks ago she had called Regina at an ungodly hour screaming about that bloody bet that should never have been made.
"No, no! We shook on this, we wrote this in the dictionary of our friendship!" Kathryn had protested when Regina simply laughed and denied that they were serious about that. "You have to. What do you need two kidney's for anyway?"
Regina had argued that she may want to take up rugby or some other violently out of question sport. Kathryn merely laughed and told her that if she did, she would give her her own kidney in return.
So, here she was, clad in a hospital gown with a face pale enough to call translucence. The scent of hospital and what she had deemed 'the live essence of misery' lingered in the air and stuck to the hair of her nostrils. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath she wished that she had it in her to back out of this, but alas.
"And what if I don't? Hm? What then?" She asked, sipping a glass of juice alongside Kathryn and her daughter Gin.
The honey blonde shrugged and swallowed her mouthful. "Nothing." Regina relaxed. "You will just have to live the rest of your life knowing that you, Regina Mills, are a fuckin' pussy."
Regina's lip twitched into a scowl as she violently gulped her beverage, Kathryn knew just how to pluck her last nerve. "I'm not a pussy." She said simply and stood.
"Eh!" Kathryn called. "You're supposed to watch Lifetime with me!" She whined as Regina sauntered to the front door.
"Like I said," she returned, "not a pussy."
Regina had stood by that pact and now, she was being rested back onto the table, her hair in a cap, her cheeks rushed with the blood of her unopened body. This, would soon change, that is what scared her the most. The best part, she would have a new scar to stare at and name, give a personality and a story. This one, a good one. Actually, the best part of this all was being able to help someone in need of it. You know, without having to listen to them cry or bitch about their first-world problems that Regina, could truly not care lass about.
"Ready?" The eyes of a nurse came into her bleary vision. Regina nodded, opening her mouth but unsurprised when nothing but a cracking gush of air flowed out. Soon, she was under the spell of a drug that she wished she knew the street name of.
Across the hall in a separate room, lay a waiting Emma Swan, she'd been on the list waiting for a kidney for the past four years. She had a rare blood type, O Negative and was beginning to think she would never find a match.
It was ironic, well not ironic, but comically tragic that on her twenty first birthday she had gone out and drank enough alcohol to stop the function of her kidney. One was able to be saved, but the other, removed. Which in any other case, would be enough to continue on a life of normalcy, but the other had been failing and is weak enough as is.
So, it was an absolute godsend when a match came up, even more so in New York. Now, three weeks later, the day is here and she is on the table ready to receive a new organ. It was crazy to think that in a few hours she would have the organ of another stitched into her body and helping her live again.
A nurse came up and placed a mask over her face with a look of determination, she hadn't even asked if Emma was prepared when she pumped her full of a gas that put her to sleep before she could blink twice.
When Regina came to she was back in the room she had been fasting in for the past two days, she knew that she could do it at home, but she didn't trust herself to be around the culinary creations of Granny, who never stopped cooking. Her Granny believed it to be her purpose in life to make the best and most wonderful of everything.
Except coleslaw, which she believed to be an absolute abomination. However, she was sure if it she didn't have self respect, she would make the best of that as well.
So, she entered the hospital two days prior where for one she was fed some bland version of broccoli soup for one, then nothing but water for the next.
Now, she felt utterly exhausted and sitting up was enough a struggle to blur her vision with that lightheadedness that came along with virtually any physical activities she attempted. Even getting up in the morning. Or at night when she needed to use the restroom just after she was settled.
Except now it was worse, since she was condemned to this cot, she could feel the invisible cuffs that linked her to this damnation. If she were in the mood to speak to anyone, she would ring the nurses button, since she would rather die of starvation she decided to fall back onto the most uncomfortable of pillows with cases made up of a fabric the equivalent of table clothes, until she did just that.
However, the world was on the side of currently pessimistic Regina and a rush of a blonde mess whooshed into the room with a balloon that had to be custom made that read 'not a pussy' in large pink bubbled letters. As well as a bag that she could only pray contained food.
"Hello, hello!" Kathryn chirped as she moved to the wall and pulled a seat over to the beside. "So, how does it feel knowing that you have been violated?"
Regina rolled her eyes and gave a weak chortle. "Like victory."
"I thought I was the victor?" Kathryn asked, appalled.
"You thought." Regina assured. "Is that food? Did you food?"
"No, I did not food, Regina." Kathryn replied sarcastically. "I did however, bring food."
"You know what I meant, asshole." Regina sat up.
"God, you look like me after birth." Kathryn gaped. "And you know that wasn't pretty."
"Come on, I don't look that bad." Regina sighed with a laugh, tucking a stand of hair that felt more like a handful of hay behind her ear.
Kathryn nodded, eyes wide with a proofing chuckle. "Oh, yes you do, honey, do I need to get a mirror?" She asked and started to stand.
"No!" Regina said forcefully and reached out to her weakly. "I don't care how ugly I am, I just want to eat." She whined.
Kathryn sat back down and pulled out tupperware containers of food. "Granny insisted that I bring you something home made, and not by me of course." She titled her head and placed the still warm containers on Regina's quilted legs.
"Is she coming down?" She asked, curling her icy digits around the warmth and pulling it to her chest, it was roast beef stew with seasoned carrots and potatoes, one of her favorites.
"Yeah, later, Ruby had found a place that was renting cheap downtown."
"She's really going to do it."
"Yep, Granny's Diner is up and swinging." Kathryn nodded, swiping a fork and handing it to Regina. "David and I are investors." She quirked a brow.
"Oh, is that right?" Regina said between bites.
"Mhm." She nodded. "However, we won't be expecting profit."
"Not very smart on your part, then again, that is to be expected." Regina chewed.
"Oh, ha-ha. That's a lot of talk for someone who just gave a kidney because she had too much pride to give up a bet that she made in high school."
"You called me a pussy."
"Actually, I called you a fucking pussy. There's a difference." Kathryn clarified.
"I was insulted either way." Regina assured. "Now you can never call me either."
"I don't believe in your use of the world 'never,' dear." Kathryn mocked.
Regina shook her head and continued to eat her food, which she would later throw up, it was most definitely better going down than coming up, but the coming up was nonetheless satisfying.
Emma woke to the sight of her mother flicking through the channels on the small flatscreen overhead the small cabinet in the pale orange room that looked as if someone tried to cover up an orange juice stain with milk. It was just bordering on repulsive, and if she cared just a strand more she would ask to be moved, but she was over the moon.
Not only did she have a functioning kidney now working within her body to sterilize fluids, but she had her mother here from Maine for two whole months. The last time she'd been up longer than a weekend was when Emma had failed a course in college and Mary Margret had come up to crack down on her to retake the exam and write up a ten minute speech as make-up for slacking off. Which is definitely not what she did when her mother, who made her wake up at 6:30 each morning to first, walk her dog, then cook breakfast, then study until five. Only breaking for lunch, which she was not allowed to leave the apartment to get.
No matter, she passed the class and was just now graduating with her master's in business and Literary arts. Her dream was to become a teacher, like her mother, but more for middle to high school students instead of elementary. This is because she always wished that she had a teacher like the one she hopes to be in high school, attentive to progress but not process. As when she was in school it was all about homework and excess amounts of studying, which put a colossal amount of unnecessary stress on her, especially due to the fact that this was the case for each one of her core classes as well as electives that she hardly got to enjoy fully because she was majorly pining over other more 'important' classes.
Glad to be through with that and now in almost absolute health, she was ready to move forward with her career and life outside of it.
"There is never anything on." She croaked, her mother turned her head and broke into a watery grin, scooting the chair to her bedside.
"How's my bug?" She asked, taking Emma's hand in her and placing a kiss on her knuckles. "Hm?'
"I'm," Emma fluttered, "great. I'm, really."
Mary Margret smiled and sighed dreamily. "You sleep well?"
Emma nodded quickly and stretched, cracking her neck to one side then the next. "Sorry." She let out with an apologetic laugh at her mother's appalled expression.
"You know, one day your head is just going to fall off." She said as if it were the truth and nothing but.
"I know, Ma. That's all you ever told me as a kid." Emma answered.
"It's true, and you have scoliosis," she went on.
"I do not have scoliosis." Emma replied defensively.
"Well, you should, never sitting up straight," Mary Margret pointed out.
"Okay, woah, woah, wait!" Emma stopped. "I just had an invasive procedure and you want to insult me on my posture?" She asked, mocking insult.
"Your lack of, yes." Mary Margret nodded and sat straighter.
"That hurts, Ma. It really does." Emma turned her head away, then back as she winked at her mother and moved the bed so she could sit up.
"You hungry?" She asked.
"Yeah, but I don't think I'm supposed to eat." Emma rubbed her eyes, seeing a universe in the closed lid.
"Nonsense!" Mary swatted the air. "You, need to eat. They, can not keep you from proper nutrition."
"Well if I throw it up anyway, then isn't that on you."
"Emma, no. You will not be throwing up anything. I will get you broth."
Emma nodded, brows raised. "Scrumptious." She replied. "Hope it's grade A."
"Stop being so sardonic." Her mother said, standing and heading out of the room.
Emma's head fell to the side where she was met with a window, shutters just barely allowing for a gray stream of light to flutter in. Outside, it was almost as if she could see the shifting seasons, from summer to fall. September was coming to a close but it was just beginning to pick up a chill. The city was, in the summer, the equivalent of being stuck inside of a microwave on low. Hardly any circulation and a constant flow of heat beating down until all the sweat from all inhabitants who are not condemned to the comfort of the indoors is sucked from their pores to float in the air, leaving them sticky, wet but dry, and above all else miserable.
Despite this, she loved the city, the hustle and the shocking amount of homeless people, and diversity was a nice change from where she grew up. Storybrooke was the poster child for small town America. It was stuck in the eighties by look and size, it hardly grew and seemed to be ten years behind the rest of the world. Her parents, had just recently gotten IPhones and only had cable in the living room. They were happy, to be out of the loop, not totally consumed by technology. That wasn't their thing either, they'd been together for thirty years but still couldn't get enough of each other.
They would rather have a picnic than watch a movie, cook a meal than go out, they were simple, and adorable. Emma had always admired their love and devotion to one another. She was glad to have been born under such picturesque circumstances, for the most part. She knew that she had it better than the vast majority of people in the world and she didn't take that for granted. The girl had freedom, foundation, and morals and that was more than a lot of kids could say.
Emma smiled just as her mother came plucking into the room, her face flushed. "Oh my god, Emma." She said quietly. "Down the hall this old man tripped and I didn't mean to laugh but, he only took one step and fell, it was so," she covered her face. "it was so funny."
"Is her okay?" Emma chuckled.
Her mother shook her head furiously. "No, that's the worst part he- he broke his hip."
"Oh my god, Mom!" Emma threw her head back.
"I didn't know, but he looked up and the nurse was," She shook her head. "I just walked the other way, they seemed to have had it covered."
Emma laughed a moment more. "No broth?" She asked pointedly.
"Oh!" Mary Margret brought her hand to her head. "I forgot, I totally forgot."
"Wow, Mom, really inconsiderate today, who are you?" She asked.
"I'll be back." She said determined and stood. On her way out she ran into the threshold, patting it and turning to Emma with an embarrassed grin. "Yep." She said and hurried out.
Emma chuckled and closed her eyes, she felt tired but was too excited to sleep, she was bed ridden for the next week or so.
Minutes later her mother was in the room once more, with a face that could only be described as bleak. Emma looked suspiciously at her. She sat down and looked at Emma a moment. "She said no." She said and Emma pressed her lips. "Until later."
"Okay, Mom, thanks." Emma said in an understanding tone, she didn't really care about the food, she wasn't hungry for broth either way, or any way, who ever ate broth willingly?
"So, do you know who it is?"She asked.
"Who?"
"The donor." She said.
"Oh, uh, no, anonymous, requested." Emma nodded. "I know it's a woman, she had blood type O neg and, she saved my from a life of dialysis twice a week." She shrugged.
"Well, bless her." Mary Margret returned.
"Yeah," Emma said in a breath.
"Should we go on a stroll?" She asked.
Emma pursed her lips. "I can't really walk." She countered.
Her mother pointed to a wheelchair by the wall. "Chair." She said.
"Oh, okay, yeah." Emma nodded. "Sure."
"We don't have to if you don't want to." She answered dejectedly.
"No, no, yeah let's go." Emma answered, she really didn't want to go, but her mother would likely sulk until she did, so may as well.
"Help?" MM asked, pushing the chair over to the bed, holding out her hand.
"I'm okay." Emma replied, getting into the chair with less of a struggle than she would have thought, but in her lower abdomen she felt an ache. "Shall we?"
"We shall!" Her mother chirped and wheeled her out of the room.
The entire thing was sort of embarrassing, even in a hospital where everyone was sick or with the sick. Having someone push you around in a chair, it was like a more demeaning version of being a child in a stroller. Except when it's a wheel chair there is probably a good reason to be in it except for the simple fact of being a kid who will run off the first chance that is given.
Emma leaned into her hand as her mother rambled on about home and what everyone has been up to. Emma didn't care really, she didn't live there anymore and the gossip was just meaningless, but her mother liked to talk, so she listened. It wasn't often she got to, even their phone conversations were cut short as Emma was always busy or would just rather do something but catch up on how 'Mother Superior isn't actually a virgin.'
As her mother carried on Emma saw another woman in a wheel chair waiting by the front desk. She stared a bit too long, as the woman looked entertainingly agitated at whatever the receptionist was saying.
"My cell phone." She iterated, taping the desk that she could barely see over. "Cell phone, I gave it to you to keep safe, and I need it."
"No, Miss. Not here." The nurse shook her head. "I'm sorry, I wasn't on shift yesterday. I can-" She began.
"This is idiotic!" She yelled. "Who runs this place?" She turned red.
"Miss calm down, you'll-"
"I'll what? Rip your goddamn head off?" She shook her head and pointed at the woman fiercely. "You find whoever was on shift last night and you tell them that if they don't give me my goddamn belongings I will destroy them if it is the last thing that I do."
Emma smirked at her fire, her mother however, not impressed. "Some people have no consideration." Emma didn't need to turn around to see the disgust imprinted into her mother's features.
"Yeah." Emma nodded, but her voice held no matter. She watched as a tall brunette pranced over and led the woman's chair over, towards them, smiling an apology to the girl behind the desk.
They were coming towards Emma, she didn't know what to do, she tucked a loose strand behind her ear, the woman in the chair wore a scowl as she and Emma had a stare down as she passed. Emma smiled shortly, she thought, but it was more of a frog like press of the lips.
The woman nodded and looked forward.
Emma didn't know why, but she turned around to see just where she was headed, the lanky guide pushed into a room just across the hall from her. Emma decided that she would give a visit, just for the sake of friendship.
"No, mom, really." She insisted. "I'll be fine, plus, you said your back hurts and that's probably from these chairs. My bed is way comfier, I promise, and you can come back first thing." Emma assured.
"I don't want to leave you here, Em."
"I know, but Ox is there and he needs a friend. He's probably sad that I haven't been home in a couple of days, I'm sure he'd love someone to snuggle with." Emma referred to her best friend and royal pug, Oxford. After the dictionary, because why not?
Mary Margret looked hesitant, but finally sighed and nodded. "Okay, but I will be back first thing." She assured, leaning in to the bed to wrap Emma up in an attempted hug. "I love you." She said.
"Love you, too." Emma replied stiffly. Her mother hovered by the door then gave a wave and headed out. Emma rang the nurse's button ten minutes later, to be safe and had the man help her into her chair. Emma thanked him and refused his offer of assistance, she had been able to eat and retain broth, and felt strong as an ant. So, strong for her size and situation, but not strong in a universal sense.
Wheeling herself around the halls with bright buzzing lights beating down onto her, making her feel exposed, she felt like an ant. It was unlike her to be in a situation where she didn't feel like she had complete control of herself, not since the night that changed her life.
Her twenty-first birthday, it was supposed to be fun, it was, until she showed up. Lily, who was the girl she had been seeing. Lily was eighteen, graduating high school when she and Emma met while crying in Central Park in the middle of the night, swinging on the equipment that needed to be greased.
"What happened to you?" Emma asked, sniffling as she walked up and took a seat.
Lily looked up, her features dark and solemn. "Got kicked out." She said, her tone breaking as she tried to sound stable.
"You okay?" Emma asked.
Lily let out a laugh without humor. "You kidding? I'm livin' the life." She motioned around weakly. "The fuck kind of question is that?" She asked.
"I don't know." Emma shook her head. Lily looked over to the blonde.
"What about you?" Lily nodded. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I mean, I'll get over it. Didn't lose my home or anything."
"Doesn't take away your right to be sad." Lily answered.
Emma smiled weakly and nodded. "Guess you're right." She said. They stayed there for a while, sitting in silence and letting the breeze that was neither warm nor cold overtake them. "You need a place to stay?" Emma asked.
"I don't even know you." Lily replied a minute later.
"Well, I don't know you either." Emma huffed.
Lily puffed a laugh. "Point taken."
"So that's a yes?" She asked.
"Yeah, guess it is." Lily said and smiled.
After that, Lily ended up staying with Emma for a year, until it all went to hell when Emma started seeing Him, who's name she doesn't say. Long story made bearable, Lily and she had been together, Emma didn't want to accept it, she tried to block out the feeling she had for Lily, she cheated, Lily found her at the bar, clusterfuck of cuss words, tears, punches, and then nothing. That was the night, the night that was supposed to be fun, the turning point of her life, and it was, but not in any sort of good way.
Now, this was a new beginning, everything that happened in the past is gone but not forgotten, she had learned from is and moved past it, because that's all that's left to do.
Emma has since come to terms with herself. The part of her that is attracted to women. Maybe she's bisexual, but she hates to use that term because it is never taken seriously. Girls mainly, say that they are bisexual but most because it's a trend nowadays and no one thinks it is a real sexuality. Even with the culture today that is supposed to be so accepting of gays it's all for show. Being gay, is hard for some people. It was and is hard for Emma, she doesn't want to be gay, even though her mother and father are accepting of it, she isn't sure if she is deep down.
Of course, on the surface she has to be because she can not change who she is and who she is attracted to, but if she could she would. It is insulting to her when people claim bisexuality when it is really just a phase or fad, which she has no problem with, but what she does have a problem with is having a joke made out of her sexuality which is a real thing that has been problematic for her throughout her life.
Growing up in a town not so accepting of gays, it was a relief to be in New York where the culture and people are far more diverse and accepting. She could remember now, gawking to her mother about a girl who she had had the biggest crush on in high school, telling her mother that she felt gross about it, and he could remember crying in front of her mother for the first time since she broke her arm when she was ten.
"I don't know, it makes me feel gross, you know?" Emma asked.
"Why because she's older, or because she isn't into girls?" Her mother asked seriously as she stirred a pot of chili. Emma was grating the cheese, but stopped at this reply.
"No, Mom, because.." Emma sighed and felt her stomach turn. "because she's a girl." She answered.
Her mother inhaled. "Oh." She said shortly. "I didn't even think about that." She answered, not turning around, but Emma did and she saw her shake her head.
Still, years later she thinks of that and knows that even if she doesn't accept herself, or the world, her mother does. That is just enough to get by.
As she gathers up the courage to turn around and wheel passed the fiery brunette's room she thinks of this moment and all the other's in between. She peeks in past the open shutters to the room and sees the woman fast asleep with two other's occupying the room, one being the tall lanky one who had been wheeling her prior to this moment, who's face was illuminated by the glowing screen of a cell phone in her hands. The other an old woman who was angrily crocheting what looked to a sweater but could be anything. The old woman looked up and threw the needles to the ground.
"Dammit girl, I'm not old 'nough for this." Came her muffled reply. Emma snickered and continued on, at least she knew where that attitude came from.
She couldn't place it, she didn't know why, but she had to meet this woman, it was now on her list of things to do that aren't Jennifer Tilly.