I would like to thank all the followers, favorites, and comments I've received on this story so far. It means a lot that there are people out there enjoying what my imagination has to offer.
As usual these characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz. Let's play.
"There's no need to wake her, just do what you need to do."
"I'm sorry Mr. Jones but we need to to take some X-rays and run some tests. She is welcome to return to the waiting room until we've finished."
"Look, love, I'm sure what needs to be done is important and I'm happy to comply with whatever is required of me but please allow me a moment or two longer with her."
"Okay. I can give you five minutes but that's all."
The whisper of fabric and squeak of rubber soled shoes retreating followed by the obvious attempts at closing the door quietly dragged Emma back to full consciousness. She was curled into Killian's side, her arm draped across his stomach and her legs were tangled in his, despite the fact that her boots were still on. She stiffened slightly as she became aware of her position only to relax when Killian pulled her closer into him.
"Well, Swan, it looks like you're being forced to abandon ship," he murmured into her hair.
"Doesn't that mean that the ship is going down?" She asked propping her chin on his chest to look up at him.
"Aye, but don't fret, love, it's merely a figure of speech in this instance," Killian huffed in amusement which quickly devolved into a cough.
He tried to stifle it but that only caused the coughing to increase. Emma quickly sat up and fumbled with the controls to raise the bed. His cough was loud in the small room and had a wet, phlegmy sound to it. After the fit subsided Killian dropped back on his pillow and tried to catch his breath. Noticing a pitcher on a table by the bed Emma stood up and poured some water for him.
"Killian?"
"I'm alright, love," he rasped.
"I have some water here," she said quietly, sloshing the liquid in the cup.
Killian took the cup without looking directly at her. This was new territory for them. This wasn't some villain doing whatever possible to get what they want, no magic spells or Dark Ones. It was just something that normal people dealt with all the time, illnesses and nurses and being there for someone. Emma wasn't sure she knew how to do normal anymore and Killian's idea of normal was found in Henry's book
It was then that it occurred to Emma that, for Killian, the things she considered normal were possibly beyond comprehension for him. She didn't know what illnesses they caught in the Enchanted Forest, for all she knew Dragon Pox was a real thing and not just from Harry Potter. Even a hospital was a foreign concept, based on what she had seen from her trips to her parents' land. Killian was not only struggling with the flu but with understanding and trusting the institutions that Emma took for granted.
"Hey," she said softly placing her hand on his shoulder.
He turned his head toward her but only raised his gaze to the mask still covering the lower half of her face. She silently cursed the thing, wishing to rip it off so he could see her frown but with the sound of his cough still ringing in her ears she didn't dare. Placing her other hand under his chin she tipped his head back enough to make him look directly into her eyes.
"You don't need to worry, you know," she reassured him and herself.
"I'm not worried, Swan," he huffed indignantly. "Let them do their bloody tests and rays, whatever it takes to get me out of here."
"X-rays," she corrected him absently. He was putting up walls, not intentionally but she could feel them coming between them. She knew that there was only one way to reach him, to keep him from pulling away.
"When I was eight I was in this foster home that had taken on too many kids. I don't know if it was for the money or because the woman convinced her husband they could care for all of us. Either way I had to share a bed with this girl who had really bad nightmares. Sometimes they were so bad that she would start lashing out in her sleep. One night I was sleeping too close to the edge of the bed and she had a nightmare. She knocked me off and I landed on my arm, breaking it in two places.
"The husband took me to the hospital. He was angry that I had woken him up in the middle of the night and was muttering about Social Services not believing that it had actually been an accident. When we got to the ER he left me alone with the nurses, having decided that I was already too much to be bothered with. I was so scared and alone and even though the staff was nice they weren't what I needed. I just wanted someone to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be okay, that there was nothing to be worried about. A few days after that I was shipped back to a group home. We all were. I've pretty much avoided hospitals from then on, Henry's birth being the exception. Until I came to Storybrooke, actually. It seems like I'm here every other week now."
Emma was staring out the window, the pain of sharing a part of her past too much to handle. She was still getting used to letting him see the damaged parts of her, the things that she had shared with no one, choosing to bury them under layers of self preservation and distrust. Yet, she had let Killian in without hesitation because they were cut from the same cloth and he understood what it meant that she had done so.
"Emma," his voice pulled her attention back to him. "There's something I need you to get for me."
She inclined her head willing to do whatever he asked of her. Aside from sneaking him out the back, however.
"Sure."
"In my room there's a piece of leather with a gold military insignia upon it. I would greatly appreciate it if you could bring it to me," his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "It was my brother's."
Before Emma could articulate an answer the door opened to reveal a nurse pushing a wheelchair in front of her. From the look on her face there would be no more negotiating for more time. Emma turned back to Killian leaning down to touch her forehead to his.
"Of course. I'll be here when they're done," she promised.
"Will you promise me one more thing, love? Try and prevent them from putting that blue wiggling monstrosity on my tray this time," he said with a grimace.
"It's still called Jell-O. I'll make sure that it's red this time, all of the red flavors are good," she said smiling behind the mask before turning to the nurse. "How long will the tests take?"
"Only an hour or two but then Mr. Jones will need to get some rest. Visiting hours resume at three and you'll be welcome to join him then," the nurse said sternly as she kept the various wires and tubes from tangling as Killian moved from the bed to the wheelchair.
"Okay," she said leaning down to whisper in Killian's ear. "I'll see you in an hour or two."
Standing up she brushed his hair off his forehead, a poor substitute for a kiss goodbye but still better than nothing. Before she could step back to let the nurse wheel him out Killian grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. He smiled up at her and only let go when the nurse pushed him beyond his reach.
Emma looked around the room before stepping out into the hallway. Just as she thought she had no idea how to get back to the waiting room she had originally come from. With some help from various nurses and signs posted along the way she finally arrived, having taken only two wrong turns.
The waiting room was filled with more people than it had been that morning. After a moment she found Mary Margaret sitting alone reading a book. Emma made her way over quickly, ready for a break from the hospital.
"Mom, where's Dad?" She asked as soon as she was close enough.
"Hmm? Oh, Emma!" she said startled, looking up at her. "Your father's back at the loft. He kept complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs were so I sent him home to get some sleep. How's Killian doing?"
"About as well as a former pirate being stuck in an unfamiliar environment with the flu can be," she remarked, trying to avoid voicing her fears. "Complaining about the Jell-O again."
"So, a little irritable and itching to be anywhere but here? Just like your father," Mary Margaret quipped.
Emma knew that her mother was filled with questions about the diagnosis, why she was in the waiting room with her, and what had happened the night before but she kept quiet. Emma appreciated Mary Margaret's willingness to wait, knowing that pushing for information would just cause Emma to shut down.
"They're doing some tests and taking some X-rays now. We have about two hours until he's done. I'm definitely going to use that time to take a shower and get something to eat, I'm starving," Emma said, glossing over the first part in what she hoped was a casual manner.
Mary Margaret opened her mouth to say something but ended up shaking her head and gathering her things. They left the hospital and got into Mary Margaret's car. The ride back into town was as conversation free as Emma's earlier trip with David. In an attempt to drown out the silence Emma had turned up the radio but even classic rock couldn't ease the tension she felt waiting for Mary Margaret to inundate her with questions.
"Did you want to go to home first or Granny's?" Mary Margaret asked as she took the final turn into town.
"Home, definitely," Emma answered quickly. "I'll feel more myself once I've cleaned up and I don't smell like a doctor's office."
David was still asleep when they entered the loft but woke as soon as Mary Margaret closed the door behind them. Emma used his confused questions to her mother as a chance to slip up to her room and once again avoid talking about what was going on with Killian. Grabbing a fresh set of clothes she strode purposefully back down the stairs and straight to the bathroom without pause.
She knew that her parent's were worried about her. It seemed they would always find something to be concerned about when it came to her life. Emma didn't know how to respond to their concerns and it bothered her. She should be able to tell her mother how she felt, that with Killian's illness she was lost and worried about what might happen. That being kept in the hospital meant that something other than the flu was wrong with him.
The hot water cascaded over her shoulders as she willed herself to relax and enjoy the moment alone. She felt her lack of sleep and skipped meals acutely. What she needed was a hot meal and a long nap. Knowing that the nap was out of the question she daydreamed about the former until the hot water ran out forcing her to quickly finish her shower.
"I think Belle should keep Neal for a little while longer. At least until we find out the results of the tests their running and finally get some answers," Mary Margaret's voice filtered through the door as soon as Emma shut off the water.
"Are you sure? I know you don't like to be away from him for long," David's voice was quieter but still easy to hear.
Emma quietly dried off and dressed listening to their conversation.
"I'm sure. Emma needs us right now and watching Neal is good for Belle. Besides, I don't want to become one of those 'helicopter moms' Emma keeps mumbling about."
Taking that as her cue Emma opened the bathroom door and joined her parents sitting at the kitchen island. She pulled her hair into a low ponytail as she glanced between the guilty looks on their faces.
"Don't worry. If you were really a helicopter mom you wouldn't have let Belle watch Neal in the first place. At least not without a ten page instruction booklet on how to take care of him," she watched amused as a blush bloomed across Mary Margaret's face and David buried his grin behind his coffee mug.
"It was only one page," Mary Margaret mumbled.
"Front and back?" Emma asked.
"Color coded and laminated," David supplied the answer. "She made it at the office when she was supposed to be dividing funds for charity groups."
"I just wanted to make sure that Belle would be prepared for anything," Mary Margaret said sheepishly.
"Did you want some coffee, Emma?" David asked already turning to grab her mug from the dish drain.
"No, I'll get some at Granny's," she said absently as she pulled out her phone. "I need to let Regina know that Henry needs to stay with her the rest of the weekend."
"I already did," Mary Margaret informed her. "Henry still wants to visit Killian this afternoon. They'll stop by when visiting hours start again."
"I don't know if that's a good idea. They have Killian in a single room and the masks you have to wear…" The rest of Emma's weak argument died on her lips when she saw the looks her parents were giving her.
"I think Killian would appreciate seeing Henry and I know Henry is worried about him too. You don't have to be alone in this Emma," Mary Margaret reached over and placed her hand on Emma's.
Alone. It always took Emma aback when she remembered that it wasn't just her looking out for herself anymore. She knew she took on too much, shouldered every burden, pushed others away in an attempt to be strong, and nearly crumbled when it became too much. Finding her parents and being with Killian had helped her realize that opening up and trusting others wasn't a weakness but a sign of strength.
"I know," she sighed. "I'm still getting used to people being there for me."
"We'll always be here for you," David said vehemently, grabbing Emma's other hand.
They sat in silence, a moment of comfort and reassurance passing between them. Then the moment passed. No words were exchanged as David grabbed his mug to place in the sink and Mary Margaret walked over to where she had flung her coat on the bed. Emma smiled gently to herself as she climbed up the stairs to grab her boots and her own coat.
Mary Margaret insisted that they drove Emma to Granny's. After a half hearted attempt to dissuade her Emma had agreed. Her bug was still there and she wasn't up for walking after a night of nearly no sleep. All three piled into David's truck, quiet but without the unease Emma had felt on her previous rides.
Granny's was nearly empty, having already served the lunch rush. Emma paused at the counter to thank Granny for the soup and order a sandwich before heading up to Killian's room. She assured her parents that she was just grabbing a few things for Killian and she'd be back down quickly.
Entering the room Emma was unprepared to see the destruction that had taken place the night before. Killian's struggle with the paramedics had knocked almost everything off the desk and upended the chair Emma had been sitting in by the bed. Books and papers were strewn across the floor. It hadn't seemed as bad when she had left but in the light of day it looked as though a tornado had torn through the room.
Slowly she started picking up things and putting them in their proper places. She knew that her parents would wonder what was taking her so long but she couldn't help it. Cleaning up the room was something productive, something tangible she could fix.
Finally the room was set to rights. She had even taken the time to make the bed up with a fresh set of sheets she had found in a closet down the hall. Emma knew she was stalling despite her anxiousness to be back at the hospital with Killian. The mundaneness of cleaning up had allowed her to turn off her thoughts for a blessed break from all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.
Finding the leather piece Killian had asked for hadn't been as hard as she had feared it would be. It had fallen out of the pillow case when Emma was changing the sheets. She found it endearing that even after all the years of traveling and curses he kept it close.
"Emma?" Mary Margaret's voice broke through her musings.
"Hmm?" Emma looked up at her mother from the bed. She had been gently rubbing the gold emblem with her thumb, her gaze ahead of her unfocused.
"Are you okay? You've been up here a while," Mary Margaret said gently as she sat next to Emma.
"I'm fine," she answered automatically, still fiddling with the leather between her fingers.
Mary Margaret sighed but didn't push further. Emma finally felt like she wanted to talk but didn't know how or even where to start. As much as she hated the thought she wished that her first true friend hadn't also turned out to be her mother. There were things that Emma wanted to tell Mary Margaret but it wasn't something that she felt comfortable sharing with a mom. Realizing that it was unfair to Mary Margaret she took a steadying breath not knowing where to begin.
"I don't know if I can do this anymore," Emma said surprising herself. She had intended to explain why she had taken so long but the words had popped out unbidden.
"Do what?" Mary Margaret asked as she turned fully towards Emma.
"Be this person who never gets a break. The instant something good happens something comes along and messes it up. I just want a moment where I don't have to worry about the other shoe to drop."
"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret sighed. "You can't live your life worrying that things are going to go wrong."
"But that's just it, they do! Every time from the moment I was born. I know that wasn't your fault and I'm not blaming you, I'm not. It's been this constant string of disappointments and heartbreaks and I'm tired of it. Even being the Savior hasn't changed anything. It's almost worse now."
Emma focused her attention on the leather in her hands willing the tears gathered in her eyes not to fall. She hadn't meant to be so honest but her night of broken rest and continual worry over Killian had lowered her walls completely. Mary Margaret remained uncharacteristically quiet by her side. Emma took a shaky breath, waiting out her mother's silence.
"Are you happy here? With us and with Henry?"
"Of course," Emma answered, head shooting up to look at Mary Margaret, taken aback by the questions. "I finally have a home but…"
"Do you wish Henry never found you and brought you to Storybrooke?"
"No, it was probably the best birthday I'd ever had to be honest."
"And your magic?"
"Well, now that I've gotten it under control it's not such a bad thing," Emma said becoming amused with Mary Margaret's line of questioning.
"Killian?"
That brought Emma up short. She had never analyzed her feelings for Killian, not consciously at least. It was easier to just enjoy what they had together. He had given her so many things that she hadn't experienced before that putting it into words seemed next to impossible.
"You don't need to answer that right now," Mary Margaret said, smiling gently. "But you need to know that you have wonderful, amazing things in your life. Even when things are going wrong there are things that will make it right.
"No one has an easy life, Emma. Your father didn't, I haven't, Killian, Henry, Belle, Regina, I could go on and on but I think I've made my point. Focusing on what's gone wrong will only hurt you and push other people away. Emma, you've lived your life that way for too long. You need to believe that you're on your way to a happy ending. Your happy ending."
Emma felt the tears well up in her eyes again. Mary Margaret noticed and quickly pulled her into a hug. She was as quick to reciprocate, wrapping her arms around her mother, taking comfort from the embrace. They remained that way until Emma noticed the chirping coming from her pocket.
Pulling out her phone she saw an unfamiliar number on the screen. Sending a questioning glance at Mary Margaret she answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Miss Swan?" A vaguely familiar male voice asked.
"Yes?"
"It's Dr. Whale," Whale's voice sounded urgent. "We need you to come back to the hospital as soon as possible."
"Why? What's happened?" Emma asked frantically.
"Mr. Jones has experienced some complications."
"Complications? What do you mean complications?"
"It's a little too detailed to tell you over the phone. I'm sorry, I'll explain more when you get here." Whale said cautiously. "And Miss Swan?"
"Yes?" She said shakily.
"Please hurry."