Emma shook the lethargy off her body, and for a second, everything was fine. A faint smile crossed her lips, business as usual, just another day in the life. And then, as if a dam broke, she came to her senses and all the memories, thoughts, and worries came flooding back to her mind. She searched recklessly around the blanket surrounding her, anxiously scanned the bleak, grey room with her eyes, to no avail. The baby was gone, and all she had was a dull but persistent ache creeping up her belly.
A million more thoughts crossed her mind, and Emma groaned into her hands, shielding her eyes, unwilling to take in the scene laid out before her. Minutes, maybe even hours before, she had given birth to a healthy baby, just a little lump of soft baby skin and cooing noises. She faintly remembered holding it, holding him, in her arms for only a second, tracing his features and praying that she remembered any of them. She had loved him as she carried him, wondered what he would look like, who he would grow up to be more like, her or Neal? Whether this baby would be plagued with the abandonment issues she looked in the face everyday because of her parents, whether he would even care at all…it was just too much. Emma decided she was officially losing her mind.
And then the thoughts of Neal came, turning the gray cloud hovering in her mind to a distinct black storm. "I'll never smile again," Emma thought to herself quietly, the ideas rolling in and out, the emotions coming in senseless, painful, bursts. "I'll never see Neal again, and I'll never see that child again," she wasn't brave enough to call him her child, but she was brave enough to face this fact, at least. Oh Neal, the bane of her existence, the hero turned horror who had probably, no definitely, ruined her life forever. Happiness was only a distant memory now. She could understand other people leading lives filled with joy and love, even distantly remember it through the fog of pain, but at the end of the day that lifestyle was just not for her. She would always see it, surrounded by a sea of smiling faces, but she couldn't quite join in. There was always the glass wall, concealed and hidden, but still present, between Emma and these other people. She could view it, almost reach out and touch it, but happiness would never truly reach her again. She would make sure of it. There was just too much to lose.
Visions came, like a video reel of these former happy moments. Neal leaning in for a kiss, exchanging banter in the yellow bug, plotting a next move, and moments stolen away to plan the big move to Tallahassee…yes, Emma had it all, once upon a time. But there was no happy ending in sight here, behind the dim prison walls. Earlier that day, the cord connecting her to the last part of her life she shared with Neal, their baby, had been cut from her, quite literally. Emma wasn't one to really believe in signs, but she knew this was just spelling out what she had to do. She would cut all the emotional ties, too. Now that she was physically separated from her last reminder of Neal, she would finish the deed. No more wondering if he was going to come save her from this nightmare, no more wishing for a magical visit out of the blue, nothing. When she left jail, she would do her damnedest to forget everything about her former path, the one that would have led her to becoming Emma Cassady. She couldn't take anymore of this wallowing, this wondering, and this hurt. Obviously some things in life came without answers, and this would have to be one of them.
It was as if grieving her lost baby and her lost life had given her sudden clarity. She had two months left in jail, and she would grieve these losses, lick her wounds, heal her heart. When she got out, however, a new chapter would start. Emma Swan was not going to lie down and take it anymore, and she knew it in her bones. This was not what she was made of. When she left this dismal place, she was getting her shit together, and fast. She would have a real life, with a real job and nice things, and by the time Neal came crawling back to her, there would be no space left in her heart for any wretched man, least of all him.
She took this quiet time in the hospital ward to review her newly formed plan, and the more she thought about it, the more there was to like. Life in prison, especially heartbroken and post-pregnancy was bleak, but life didn't have to be. She had read somewhere that the best revenge was happiness, and she was taking it to heart. The crater-like void where Neal once was would be replaced by purpose, meaning, real living. She would drink more than one glass of fancy wine, she would laugh, she would (sometimes) cry, but never in front of others, and she would have the best damn adventure anybody could make out of their life. And on the day that she lay dying, she would be glad that she did it without help from anyone, all alone.
She was still alone in this strange room, and she took advantage of that. "Neal," she whispered, as though willing it straight to his ear, straight through to his heart "why did you have to go? This son could have been ours, everything could have been ours…" this little rant was quickly escalating to a howl, "NEAL," her hoarse and tired voice was giving out now "WE COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL!" and one last sob escaped her throat, a final testament to all the suffering she had done. As her consciousness slowly slipped to the dark relief, the sweet innocence of sleep, her hand brushed a previously undiscovered treasure on the bed table next to her. One small, quickly taken polaroid of her and the baby. She tucked it in close to her, as if trying to cuddle the memory like a stuffed bear. "Neal…" her thoughts reached out in pleading to a being that couldn't hear, for one of the very last times.