I caved and dove into Evil Charming. It was a long time coming to be honest. Huge thanks to Grace and Brittany for the beta. I own nothing... as much as I would love to have these beautiful people as my own.
Regina wakes up to the pungent smell of hospital disinfectant. It invades her nostrils with a burning sensation as she inhales sharply. The room is silent apart from the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and the scratchy sound of her lungs inflating and deflating. She opens her eyes to a blurred image, and she squints in an attempt to sharpen the focus. Once things start to become clear - the pale blue walls and the dim orange sunlight from the window - she starts to feel the pain in her legs, the pulsing ache rattling against her skull and there's a persistent ringing in her ear, an annoying high pitched whine.
Wondering how she ended up here, she groans and attempts to push herself upright in the uncomfortable bed, but nope... that's not happening. Her entire body sides with gravity and the agony throughout her body makes her grit her teeth violently. She collapses back to the sorry excuse for a mattress and looks at the foot of the bed.
She has a cast on her wrist; a clunky mass of clay weighing it down. She wriggles uncomfortably, assessing where she hurts and shit, she hurts everywhere. She gives up with the assessment and closes her eyes as she sinks right back into the mould that her body has cast on the bed.
"Miss Mills." A strong voice sounds but she can't pinpoint where it's coming from. Her strength is limited and opening her eyes feels impossible after her attempt to sit up. "Try not to move too much."
"Wh…" she tries to speak, but it feels like razor blades in her throat. Instead, she coughs a little, small sputters at first that develop into painful roars of coughs.
"Drink this."
Her eyes open when she feels a hand on her shoulder. It's all a blur again, but she eagerly sucks on the offered straw and gulps harshly, feeling the cool relief slither down her throat. She tries to speak again, croaking an airy thank you.
The figure hovering over her comes into focus; sandy hair, a white coat and a face full of concern as he asks, "I'm Doctor Whale. Can you tell me your name?"
Processing the question is like trudging through mud. She knows the answer is there, it's right in front of her, but it takes her a moment. "Uh…" she groans from deep within her belly, finally answering, "Regina. Regina Mills."
"And your birthday?" He asks, leaning over the bed slightly and shining a bright light into her eyes.
Squinting at the bright intrusion, she mutters a swift, "February," and then the light clicks off.
"Good," he nods, walking his way to the end of her bed and picking up her chart. But he doesn't need to read it, it's as if he has it memorised. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore," she tells him, twisting her face in discomfort as small aches and pains around her body make themselves known, her wrist is throbbing as well as her leg and head still. "Confused…"
The last thing she remembers is filling up her gas tank. She got back in her car and gulped down the thick sludge that the gas station dared call coffee. She had been driving all day… she was tired... it was dark and raining.
Then she remembers the headlights that came out of nowhere, and how her heart lurched into her throat as she was smashed on her right, throwing her car out of control no matter how much she tried to keep steady.
"You were in an accident," Dr. Whale confirms. "It appears a drunk driver ran a light and rolled your car off the road into a ravine. You're very lucky to be alive."
It's coming in flashes, the small bits and pieces that she remembers. She was trapped, her legs pinned amongst crumpled metal. Her airbag had deployed and she was wet, water from the river filling up the inside of the car to her chest. She could hardly move.
"You have a fractured femur, a snapped fibula, a few broken ribs and wrist," he lists. "You sustained a head injury but scans don't show any worrisome problems in brain function, and your memory seems somewhat intact."
"How…" she shakes her head a little, trying to piece together the puzzle made up of all the flashes she's having. She recalls yelling for help, struggling to free herself as her car was sinking further and further into the cold river. "How did I get out?"
"A passerby noticed the wreck. He pulled you free."
She remembers.
—
She fought with her seatbelt, absolved in frustration as it refused to click free. She pressed at the button frantically, pulled at the fabric, until it finally loosened and she could reach down to free her leg.
She had to move carefully; every movement was potentially something that could shift the car off the awkward balance it had found and then she would be completely underwater. She was close to it anyway, the water almost reached her chin as she struggled to spring her leg free.
Then she heard him.
"Hello?" A voice yelled over the battering of rain pummelling against the roof of the car and over the swishing of running water colliding against the body of the car."Are you okay?"
"Help!" She yelled back desperately; she needed to make sure she was heard. "I'm stuck, please help!"
There was no response but she could hear the sound of someone sloshing through the water and then he appeared on her right, carefully prying the damaged passenger door open as he fought against the force of the flowing water.
She couldn't make out many of his features because of the darkness, but the little light there was accented the expression on his face. He looked shocked almost, lost as to what to do. "You're bleeding," he said, pointing at his own forehead to indicate where her injury was.
She caught a dull glimpse of her gushing head wound and bloodstained forehead in the cracked rear view mirror. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed, hadn't felt any pain. She started to become more aware of her injuries - her wrist, her chest.
"Can you crawl out this way?" He asked, waving over towards himself. "I can help you out and back up to the road."
She tried to pull her leg free from its constraint again and growled, "I can't. My leg's stuck."
"Is it crushed?" He asked, climbing inside the car. It shifted the balance of the car, threatening to claim the entire vehicle until it rolled downstream. "Shit," he gritted through his teeth. "We need to free you quickly."
It's safe to say she panicked. Her breathing quickened until it was frantic. She couldn't catch her breath all of a sudden, and she couldn't focus on anything he was saying.
She was looking at him as he was trying to say something, but her mind was too worried to focus on his words. He was mouthing something to her over and over, a desperate attempt to soothe her fright and calm her down, no doubt. After a few more mouthed phrases, his words started to become clearer when he reached over and gripped onto her forearm. He grounded her completely in the chaos.
"I need you to stay with me, alright. You're going to be fine but I need you to work with me, okay?" She tried to steady her breathing and she nodded. "What's your name?" He asked, a routine form of distraction.
"R...Reg..." she stuttered, whether it was due to the chill of the water or the fear trickling down her spine was anyone's guess. "Regina."
"Regina," he repeated as he reached his hand down into the water by her feet, feeling around her leg and assessing the problem. She shook violently, definitely due to the cold this time, as he continued to talk to her. "I'm David," he told her through a strained voice as he was forcing his arm as far as it could to try and loosen her free. "Here's what we need to do, Regina…"
He pulled his arm free and reached for the side of her seat, feeling around until he mumbled a relieved, "got it," and suddenly the back of her chair sprung all the way back. "Your leg isn't pinned. I can reach right down to your foot, but I think we need a better angle so you can pull it straight out."
She caught onto his plan quickly and shuffled back up the chair as he explained, "Now, when you're free I'm going to move fast to get us out of here."
Just like he thought, her leg slipped out with ease given the better angle. "I'm out," she sighed heavily, relieved.
She didn't have a second to think before David latched onto her middle and mumbled a supportive, "'atta girl," before pulling her body free from the car through the passenger seat door.
She cried out in pain as an agonising surge radiated in her torso, a horrifying sting in her rib cage while he squeezed her tightly and dragged her out of the water.
—
"David," she recalls. "He helped me."
Dr. Whale nods, confirming, "David Nolan was driving by when he noticed the accident."
"I'll need to thank him," she sighs. He didn't need to stop, he could have easily called authorities and left it at that.
"I hope you get the chance," Dr. Whale shows hints of a frown but immediately tries to hide it. "Unlike you, he's yet to wake up."
"Wake up? He's… he's here?" Dr. Whale nods his head. It makes no sense. David pulled her out to safety, even checked her for any other bleeding wounds. He was fine. "But he wasn't hurt."
"He went back to your car," Dr. Whale explains. "The police aren't sure as to why, but it was swept downstream while he was inside."
Why would he go back? she wonders, wracking her brain for the answer and then she remembers the last question he asked her. "Oh god…"
—
He hovered over her when shock started to set in. Her entire body stiffened and she couldn't find the energy to answer any of the questions he was asking: "Are you okay? Where are you hurt?"
He was checking her body for injuries when he asked, "You were alone, right? Regina, were you alone?"
When she didn't answer him, he stood up quickly and sprinted back down to where he found her. That's when darkness took her.
—
"Do you know why he went back?" Dr. Whale asks.
"He kept asking me if I was alone," she mutters softly. "I couldn't answer, I was so…"
"You would have been in shock," Dr. Whale offers his explanation, but it still doesn't explain why David would go back with it being so dangerous.
The car seat.
"He thought I had a child with me," she murmurs wistfully, frowning deeply as she realises that her stupidity combined with this stranger's impeccable heart might have been what made him put himself in harm's way. And for what? Absolutely nothing.
"Why would he think that?"
"There was a car seat strapped in the back," she discloses tearfully, the months of false hope falling on her shoulders like bricks once again and now garnished with the added guilt of putting someone in a dangerous situation. "I was supposed to pick up my son last week but… but the adoption fell through." Now there is a man in the hospital because she couldn't let it go. "This is my fault."
"There is nothing you could have done to stop him from going back," Dr. Whale contends. "It's just who he is."
"You know him?"
"I've known him for many years. That tends to happen in a small town like this one."
"I'm sorry…"
"There's no need for apologies," he promises, looking over her chart quickly then glancing back at her. "You have no emergency contact listed. Is there anyone we can call for you? A family member?"
She outright laughs, a bitter thing. "No," she shakes her head desolately. She doesn't even understand the concept of family anymore. "There's no one." Dr. Whale seems taken aback at the acidity in her outburst, and feeling the need to explain somewhat, she reveals, "I don't need anyone. As long as I'm going to be okay?"
"I expect you to make a full recovery with time," he slips her chart back into its slot at the end of the bed. "I'll have a nurse come and redress your wounds and check your pain levels. I'll be around if you need anything."
Dr. Whale makes his way to the door when she stops him, "Wait," she says firmly, desperate to know, "Will he be okay?"
Dr. Whale's shoulders slump sadly, but perk back up almost instantly; years of practice as a professional will do that to you, she knows it all too well.
"I don't know."
What do ya think? Continue or no?