Hey guys. I know I sort of dropped off the face of the Earth the day Adri passed away, but I just needed time to come to grips with her absence. Today marks six months since she's been gone and I still miss her so much; this story has been a way for me to get closer to her, because at the end of summer she asked me when I would write her a CS House AU... I told her I'd finish my book first, but the book has been abandoned and I don't know if I'm going to get back to it, so I decided to focus my energy into what she wanted to read instead. Writing this has been an uphill battle without Adri's encouragement and ideas, but I have half the story finished, and I fervently hope you will enjoy it. I'm not on tumblr anymore, but if you want to talk, you can send me a message here.
Exactly a year ago today Dr. Emma Swan had blown out a single candle on a cupcake and wished not to be alone anymore. This year, there is a proper cake with chocolate icing in front of her and twenty-nine candles carefully arranged on it so as not to disturb the writing that reads „Happy bday E".
The impromptu celebration is being held in the conference room and out of the seven people in attendance, only Henry Mills looks content to be there, but then again, the surprise party had been his idea, and Emma is pretty sure that the big part of the reason people turned up for it during working hours is that his adoptive mother is the Dean of Medicine in Mercy Hospital, and therefore the boss of all of them.
"Make a wish, Emma," Henry urges her and Emma ignores the way Regina rolls her eyes, smiling at her once lost child before she closes her eyes and tries to find something good to wish for.
After all, it had worked last year, somehow sending Henry on a quest to look for her, which in turn prompted Emma to uproot her life and come work for his adoptive mother just so she could be close to him.
"I am so sorry I'm late!" Mary Margaret dashes into the room and Emma opens her eyes, grinning at her mother and marveling once more at the ridiculous twist of fate that had put her up to volunteering in this hospital, allowing them to reconnect after twenty-eight years of being apart.
"Can we get on with this already?" Dr. Whale asks and looks at his watch. "I'm sure we all have one or two patients that might keel over if this goes on for much longer."
August and Dr. Hood exchange a meaningful look as Mary Margaret slides into an unoccupied seat and waves her hand at Emma to blow out her candles.
"David is held up in traffic."
Emma closes her eyes and concentrates again, but the wish isn't forthcoming; she's got her son, she's got her parents and a good friend in Elsa even though she doesn't see enough of her because of their crazy schedules… Some would say that she should probably work on finding a romantic love, but Emma doesn't have neither time nor particular inclination, but as she casts around for that elusive something she decides to just get it over with and simply wish for love.
I wish to find a good, reliable partner, she thinks and blows out all her candles in one go, opening her eyes to Henry's beaming face.
"You can't tell anybody what you wished for, otherwise it won't come true," he informs her, looking much younger than his twelve years when he grins like this.
"I'm fairly sure Dr. Swan is well aware of the rules of birthday-wishing," Regina says and hands Emma the knife, pushing the paper plates closer to the cake; the Dean is always so efficient that Emma is often left feeling inferior.
"I really must go," Dr. Hood announces and leans over the table to give Regina a quick kiss on the cheek before nodding at Emma and saluting Henry on his way out the door.
Ruby and Belle look the most eager for cake so Emma serves them first, all of a sudden feeling oddly full of anticipation, but she contributes it to the fact that they hadn't had a truly challenging case in a few weeks, and all of them are on edge because of what such inertion does to Dr. Gold, their immediate boss and Head of Department of Diagnostic Medicine.
It's entirely at odds with Hippocratic Oath and they are all well aware of it, but dealing with Gold when he's in one of his moods is marginally worse than trying to nurse severely sick people back to health when you don't even know what's wrong with them.
"We have a case."
Speak of the Devil.
Gold limps into the conference room and the nurses immediately set down their half-eaten slices of cake, making themselves scarce without even a glance in Emma's direction.
"I'll take the cake," Mary Margaret says and puts the cover on the white confection while Emma cleans up the table, smiling at Henry because he's not giving up eating, not even for Gold's sake.
"Come on people, this one is time-sensitive," Gold says and Emma looks up in surprise because there's something uncharacteristically gleeful about his voice, and judging by the way August's eyebrows shoot up, he'd noticed it too.
Henry shoves one more forkful of cake in his mouth and says goodbye to Emma, running out ahead of Mary Margaret, who's going to watch him until Regina is free to take him home.
"The Jones case?" Regina asks and pauses on her way out, but Gold cuts her off before she can say anything else.
"Yes, he's a very important person to some and we shall handle him with kid gloves."
"He's got connections in all the major newspapers. We don't want him to talk to his reporter friends about your unorthodox methods, or God forbid writing a piece himself."
Gold grins in an awfully unpleasant way, then nods and closes the door as soon as Regina gives him one last warning look and leaves the room.
"Who's the patient?" August asks as Gold throws the file on the table and Emma pulls it closer, somewhat annoyed with the fact that neither of her male colleagues will bother to read it, counting on Emma to provide them with information.
"Killian Jones."
"That supposed to mean something to us?" Whale asks, lounging in his chair and looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else, which seems to be his default setting.
"He's something of an adventurer, sailing the seas on his ship and writing travelogues that seem to be really popular among women," Gold says mockingly and Emma drums her fingers on the file, eager to start reading it.
"Let me guess; he picked up some obscure disease on his last travel," August suggests, sliding to the edge of his seat because if that is the case, they probably won't need a surgeon and he'll be free to go flirt with the nurses.
Emma is fond of him and therefore amused that he's always so predictable, a perfect cliché of a cocky, arrogant surgeon come to life in one handsome, scruffy package.
"Perhaps, but we will probably need your services before the week it through," Gold says and Emma wishes he'd just get on with it.
He's usually not this mysterious, and Emma's fingers are itching to open the file so that she can see for herself what all the fuss is about.
Gold limps over to the blackboard and turns to them, pausing for effect before he starts briefing them on the case.
"Killian Jones, age 33, originally from Sheffield. Admitted to Maine Medical Center E.R. on October 15th after spending the night sleeping in the snow outside a pub downtown, drunk off his ass, severely hypothermic and somewhat frostbitten."
Emma and August wince and make it a point not to look at Whale who has been known to come to work hung-over, arguably even tipsy.
"He's lucky to be alive; I spent that night on the couch in the nurse's station because my car wouldn't start and I didn't feel like taking the bus in below zero temperatures."
"As if you would if it wasn't below zero," Whale says and Emma tips her said to the side because she agrees; Dr. August Booth finds public transport way below him.
"At any rate," Gold continues, "they managed to raise his body temperature, he lost a few badly affected fingers and everybody thought that would be the end of it."
"But?" Emma prompts impatiently when Gold pauses again because he's really starting to get on her nerves.
"But he's still in the hospital. His feet and hands are still hurting him and have turned blue almost completely."
"Ischemia?"
"Obviously. But why?"
"Not the elements?"
"He's getting worse," Emma points out and Whale rolls his eyes.
"Probably diabetes."
"Except his sugar levels are normal," Gold says with malice and Emma starts feeling extremely uncomfortable; it's not the first time he's excited about a case, but something about his behavior today rubs her the wrong way.
It's almost like he's enjoying the fact that they don't have the right answer.
"Atherosclerosis?"
"Could be."
"Lupus?"
"It's never lupus."
"There's always a first time," August says with a chuckle and Emma resists the urge to kick him under the table.
"Could be autoimmune."
"You are as helpful as ever, Dr. Swan," Gold says and she counts to ten in her head because the only way of dealing with him is to ignore his jabs.
"Has he been transferred here already?
"A few hours ago. I ordered a full series of tests again because God knows what they did over at Medical", Gold says and glances at his pocket watch. "Should be done poking him by now."
"We could've finished the cake then. The results won't be for at least another hour," August says sourly and Emma can't help smiling to herself.
"You heard our dear Dean; she wants us to be on our best behavior, so let's show her we can be perfectly courteous and go meet our patient," Gold says and leads the way out of the conference room, Emma, August and Whale following after him like a safe of puzzled ducklings.
If there's one thing they know about Gold, it's that he doesn't meet the patients until it's unavoidable.
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