Regina pockets her phone and makes her way back over to Marian, who is still stock still and locked in the same position. The skin on her knuckles stretches tight as she squeezes her own hands forcefully. The olive skinned brunette quietly sits next to the statuesque woman, and she lightly rests her left hand over both of Marian's. She doesn't say a word, and Marian doesn't respond. Regina releases a small, inaudible sigh, and settles in to wait.

The silence drags on. It's almost painful, but Regina knows there's nothing she can say at this point. Her hand still sits atop Marian's; thumb absentmindedly stroking over the frightened mother's knuckles. Marian has yet to move a muscle since initially occupying the chair, except that she's quaking where she sits.

"It didn't seem that bad at first." When Marian speaks it catches Regina by surprise. She jumps, almost undetectably, then faces the other woman.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"It really wasn't that bad at first. All children get fevers, and I thought he would sleep it off." Marian chokes up before she can continue the thought, and Regina feels the need to say something.

"Marian," she starts softly, "You don't have to-" She's cut off by the look the other woman gives her. The distraught intensity burning in her eyes makes it clear to Regina that Marian does have to get out whatever it is that's on her mind. So she squeezes the bandit's hand, and gestures for her to keep going. Marian blinks a few times, clearing more gathering tears before speaking again.

"He wasn't that warm at first, but when I woke up this morning…or, well, I guess it's yesterday morning now. He was drenched in sweat and the fever hadn't broken. I tried using cool water on a cloth against his forehead to bring it down, and for a little while it seemed to work. He spent most of the day asleep, but his forehead seemed cooler. He managed to eat a little soup even. But by the evening he said he was nauseous, that his tummy hurt." Marian takes a deep breath, her voice cracking. "He started throwing up. I was getting so worried, but I didn't know what I could do. I knew this wasn't just a normal childhood illness, but I didn't know what, or how. I just, I didn't know. And now my baby is really sick, and he's in that room and they're, they're-" She can't finish the sentence. A new wave of tears is taking over her, and she places her face in her hands.

Regina puts an arm around Marian's shoulder and pulls her back into another embrace. She rubs the same soothing circles that she did on Marian's back before, but now on her arm.

"Marian, please listen to me carefully. You didn't fail him." Marian starts to argue, but the queen shuts her down. "No, you did not fail him. You did everything you could for him. And when that wasn't enough, you got help. It doesn't matter that you didn't know where or what the hospital was, or what else to do. Because you did the only thing you needed to, you found someone who could help. You called me." Regina swallowed hard and her shoulders bunch with tension. "I know how difficult that must have been for you, to ask me of all people for help. And now he's where he needs to be, the doctors are helping him. They're going to fix him up and he'll be just fine. You can't possibly know how to cure every illness he'll ever have, but you did what it took to get him to someone who does know how to do just that. And that's the only thing that matters. You got him to help, and that's as much taking care of him as if you were the one fixing him up yourself, alright, dear?"

For a while Marian says nothing, she just wipes at her eyes and sniffs periodically. Then, softly, "Thank you."

Regina isn't sure what specifically she's being thanked for; the mad dash to and about the hospital, the shoulder to lean on, or the speech she just gave; but she figures it's immaterial.

"You're welcome," spoken just as quietly. And she means it, for any or all of the things Marian could be thanking her for. It goes silent again, and they pass the time with Marian still resting against Regina and the mayor rubbing the bandit's arm up and down.

When Marian starts to sit up straight again, for a split second Regina reacts by tightening her grip. She immediately catches herself and releases the woman's shoulder like it's on fire, internally cursing at herself with vigor. She awkwardly smoothes out the wrinkles in her silk pajama bottoms, and fixates on the sheepskin boots she'll deny owning later. She'd thrown them on in her rush earlier that night.

Marian gracefully ignores the unease that had charged the space between them, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. She feels as though she's going to burst with the question that's been on her mind all night, she'd asked it earlier and gotten no response. She isn't sure if she should ask again, but before she gets the chance Regina's rich voice sounds next to her.

"How did you get in touch with me tonight? Obviously you acquired a phone, but how did you get my number?" The question comes out stiff and demanding. Regina is making a hasty retreat behind the military grade armor guarded walls she has spent her entire life constructing around herself; it's the only thing she knows.

"Oh. Robin, when he left, he gave me this." Marian pulls a small cell phone out of the folds of her burgundy cloak; it's simple, nothing like the complex smart phone technology available, and clearly its only function is making and receiving calls. Regina recognizes it at once as the phone Robin used while he was still in Storybrooke.

"He showed me how to use it. It took me a bit longer than I'm proud of to understand it. Truthfully, I still don't really know how it works. I just press the button with the green picture on it when it starts making noise and then I can talk to Robin. He calls from different places. We don't talk that often. Really it's so he can keep in touch with Roland and I can keep him informed on how Roland is doing." She isn't sure why she felt compelled to add the last bit, but she shifts in her chair awkwardly before refocusing. "He, ah, well he also showed me how to call you. He said he had your…number?" She looks to Regina for confirmation that that was the correct term, and continues when she receives a nod. "Right, your number. He said yours was the only one he knew in this town, that you had put it in this phone when you two were, well, you know."

Regina coughs, but forces her voice not to show her discomfort when she states, "Yes, I recall putting my number in this phone." The queen tugs her black pea coat jacket closed around her middle and closes her mouth. Marian nods just a little too animatedly to be natural while she fiddles with the phone in her lap.

"Yes, so he told me if there was ever some sort of emergency that needed immediate attention, he'd be too far to help, and that I should call you. He said all I had to do was push the button that has the number 2 on it and then the one with the green picture. He seemed, quite convinced that you'd be willing to help. Frankly, I didn't really believe him." She senses the other woman's frame go even more rigid at that, so she quickly turns to her, "I was wrong though. Obviously." And then she's nodding again, though she doesn't understand why.

"I see," is all Regina says.

"Why did you?"

"Hmm? What's that, dear?" Marian suppresses her own urge to roll her eyes at Regina's deliberate obtuseness.

"Why did you help us? You didn't have to." The bandit persists, she knows she might be poking a bear with a stick, but she has to know. She had figured when she'd called the queen that the woman would have instantly hung up, if she answered at all considering the late hour. Again, Regina remains silent in response. When Marian glances to the other woman, she can see the queen working her jaw with a somewhat distant expression of her own. But she can see the gears turning in Regina's mind, so she says nothing and waits.

She realizes she's been holding her breath, but Regina still hasn't made a sound and her lungs can't wait for the queen to answer. So Marian releases the breath in a muted woosh, which sharpens the other woman's focus again. She lifts her chin and turns towards Marian, and finally Regina opens her mouth to speak.

"Marian, Madame Mayor. Roland's out of surgery now." The click of Regina's jaw snapping shut follows a half second after Doctor Yin's voice carries over to the two women and stops whatever sentiment the mayor was about to express in its tracks. Marian is instantaneously on her feet and rushing over to the doctor with Regina hot on her heels.

"How is he? How did it go? Is he alright? Can I see him?" The questions are flying out of the mother's mouth a mile a minute, and while Regina says nothing, her fierce glower demands the same answers.

Yin smiles, and before she even begins to answer the barrage of questions both Marian and Regina feel a surge of hope in their chests.

"Roland is going to be just fine. The surgery went beautifully. There were no complications, and he was a real trooper. We got the whole cyst with no problems."

"He's okay? He's-" She gulps in air, and it feels like it's the first time tonight she's been able to take a full breath. "Roland's really okay?"

Yin steps forward and rests a hand on Marian's shoulder. She firmly repeats, "Roland is okay."

And then suddenly Marian is hugging the surprised woman. She's got about a foot in height on the very small Doctor Yin, and with the cloak unintentionally sweeping out around both of them, Yin practically disappears entirely into the crushing hug. Regina stands two feet behind, a wide grin splitting her face and one hand clutching tightly to her own stomach. She watches and ignores the very familiar sting of always being the one off to the side, not included in the celebration.

When Yin finally breaks away from the embrace, she looks a tad shell shocked but not annoyed. She smiles again, and takes a step back and a moment to right herself. Marian looks like she might be embarrassed for a moment, but the beaming expression lighting up her face overshadows it. Yin tugs at the hem of her scrubs and when she speaks again, she's regained her composure.

"I can take you to see him, if you'd like."

"Yes! Yes, of course! Take me right now, please." The response leaves Marian in one rush of air and she's moving before Yin even takes a step, Regina following suit.

"Oh, Marian, just a moment."

At that, the mother whips around and Yin is once again left with the impression of a mother grizzly when looking to the woman. "You can see him, but the cloak needs to go first. We need to keep a clean environment around him to avoid Roland getting an infection, and that robe has been out in the woods and dragged across the floor. There's dirt and leaves, and whatever else on it, I can't let it in the room with Roland right now."

Marian looks dumbfounded, tugging lightly at the sides of her cloak. She would be insulted if she had any idea what to do with what the doctor just told her.

"But, I don't have any other clothes with me to change into."

"We'll get you a pair of clean scrubs to wear, it'll just take a quick moment, and then you can see him right after that. I promise."

The mother nods, not sure what 'scrubs' are, but she doesn't care. She'll put on chainmail if it means this infernal hospital will let her see her son.


Marian stands in the hallway outside a small room. It's the same one they had placed Roland in before, or so she thinks. She didn't pay the room number much mind the first time she was here. She's dressed in the strange matching shirt and pants set that all the hospital staff seems to wear, what she now knows are called scrubs. Hers are a pale blue. She'd been stunned at how soft the fabric felt, nothing like the thick wool of her cloak or the rough cotton of her dress. Her long, dark hair is tied back loosely like Kent and Yin's. She straightens her shoulders a little, and her right hand sits heavily on the door handle. Marian grips it strongly, but doesn't make a move.

She doesn't flinch, but doesn't relax her muscles either, when she feels the warm palm of a hand rest against her shoulder. Neither does she look, she knows it's Regina. Marian shuts her eyes forcefully and inhales sharply. She doesn't know what's on the other side of this door, or what condition she'll find her son in once she enters. Her mind is still reeling at the notion that one can slice into someone's body and not do irreparable damage in the process. In the time spent in the waiting room, her thoughts swirled in a downward spiral imagining the worst possible things that could have happened to Roland, and now she's terrified any one of them might have become real.

"You can do this." Regina's encouragement echoes her words from earlier, and they have much the same effect. Marian nods once, short and brisk, before taking another deep breath and opening the door. Regina steps to the side and remains in the hall, wanting to give mother and son their privacy.

The lights in the room are dim, but there's watery early morning sunlight filtering through the crack in the curtains. More machines fill the room, making quiet chirping noises here and there. There's a nurse; Karen, she thinks; writing something on a piece of parchment attached to a thin, metal surface. She hears the door click shut behind her, and she takes another tentative step into the room. When she walks in far enough to see around Karen, she feels more tears sliding down her face. He's right there, lying in the bed. He's still and so heartbreakingly tiny. But he's breathing and he's all in one piece. His eyelids flutter the barest amount and his little chest is rising and falling steadily.

Marian is by his side in two strides. She measures every inch of him, surveying for any harm or injury, but everything about him appears the same. The only difference is the edge of a clean, white bandage poking out of the opening in the robe like gown they've dressed him in. His curly brown hair is getting long enough to fall in his eyes, and she thinks to herself she needs to cut it soon. She moves to push it out of his face, but quickly retracts her hand. She looks to Karen, and with a tremor she asks, "Will I hurt him if I touch him?"

The nurse smiles kindly and shakes her head, "No. That's fine. Just be gentle, obviously. But you won't hurt him."

Marian nods silently, chewing on her lip as she gingerly brushes Roland's hair back. She places a soft kiss to his forehead, while closing her eyes to try to keep the tears from landing on him.

"How long until he wakes up?" She whispers.

"He should be awake again within the next two hours or so. But he's been through a lot, his body is going to need rest. So he'll probably be in and out of sleep for a while."

"Right, right. Okay. Thank you." Marian's voice has gotten even quieter. She's desperate for Roland to open his eyes and look up at her again, but she won't rob him of any of the sleep he so badly needs. She sits down in the same chair she rested in hours ago, takes hold of his hand, and waits torturously like she has been all night.


AN: Sorry for the unfortunate Hook reference with the phones. I'm not a fan of the pirate, but I did think that line was funny when he was talking about using a cell phone, and I think it's a fairly accurate reaction to the technology.