Shout out to OceanAndARock, keep an eye out for the next chapter. I had this chapter written since the last one was posted, but my boyfriend had surgery four days ago and I've been taking care of him so I knew I wouldn't be able to write and that's why I had this written up to post it.
The sound of fluorescent lighting is nauseating. A baby fusses and Emma turns to her right, a woman, no older than nineteen, sits beside her, hair pulled back in a tangled bun and dark circles under her eyes. She looks broken. Emma sits in the waiting room of Storybrooke General Hospital tapping her foot restlessly as she swallows the bile in her throat. Because of the lights.
Or maybe it's Regina.
A tear slips down her cheek.
It is raining when she starts on her way and she leaves at six am to be rush hour traffic. She leaves a message on Regina's cell. It doesn't worry Emma, that Regina doesn't answer, be that it is such an odd hour to call.
It should have worried her.
Emma drives slower than she would like due to the torrential downpour and the shoddy condition of her tires. She stops twice, for a bathroom break and to fill up her tank. Regina still doesn't answer when she calls and Emma grows more and more anxious as the hours and miles speed by. She drives passed the "Welcome to Storybrooke" sign and her fingers tighten around the worn steering wheel. It has been nearly five hours and Regina has not responded to the texts or the voicemails she has left. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears and drums under her fingertips. She should never have left.
When she reaches 108 Mifflin she immediately slams on her breaks, shuts off her car and throws open her door. The house's condition is far worse than she left it. The usual pristine appearance of the home is a mere memory. The white walls are covered in graffiti, windows are broken, and the front door is wide open. Emma runs into the house.
"Regina! Henry!" She yells up the staircase. No answer. The place is trashed. She races up the stairs, feet pounding on each step and enters Henry's room. Empty. His entire bookshelf has been dumped onto the floor, his covers are shoved to the foot of his bed and the contents of his desk have been emptied onto the ground. She leaves his room and heads to Regina's.
Ruined.
Her massive, four-poster, king-sized bed that dominated the room has been demolished. One of the four columns remains standing; the other three are splintered and hang only by the canopy above. Her goose down pillows appear to have exploded. The crystal vase of red roses Emma bought her is shattered next to the nightstand. Her vanity is bare, her expensive perfumes, lavish jewels and miscellaneous knickknacks are gone. Emma seethes, her fear manifesting in white hot fury. She rounds on the ball of her feet and runs out of the room, down the hall and stairs and into the kitchen. She slams her fist down on the island in the center of the kitchen. Broken china and shattered crystal glitters on the floor. The refrigerator door remains open and a cup half full of juice sits on the counter. Henry. She steps forward, glass crunching under her boot. She lifts her foot and inspects the fractured remains beneath it. She grits her teeth, a picture frame; Regina, Emma and Henry, the first picture of them together at the stables.
Emma stomps out of the house, combat boots slamming on the sidewalk. Out of the corner of her eye a light catches her attention. She spots Henry's phone lying in the grass. She bends over to pick it up and sees he was mid-text to her; it was about people breaking into the house and Regina telling him to hide and then nothing. She wants to scream. She looks around frantically; the street is vacant, deserted. She hurries to her car, gets in, stomps on the gas. She's on a mission.
She reaches the Sheriff's department in record time. The rain has started up again and her windshield wipers work frantically back and forth. She stares at the building, her thoughts moving rapidly. Mary-Margaret and David are in there. She knows because both of their vehicles are parked outside.
She's right of course, just as she expected, what she did not expect was who was locked behind the bars of a cell.
Henry.
The boy sits on the bench, a tissue pressed to his bloody nose and his fractured arm cradled in his lap.
"What the hell?" Mary-Margaret and David turn to face Emma. The pixie haired woman stands.
"Emma." She smiles, still in complete awe of her daughter.
"No, don't start, first you're going to tell me why my son is locked up, and then you're going to tell me where Regina is." Mary-Margaret glances over her shoulder at David.
"Now!" Emma orders. Mary-Margaret jumps.
"He's in there for his own safety." Lie. She finally responds.
David stands up and moves to his wife's side. "We don't know where Regina is." Lie.
"Bullshit!" Emma snaps.
"Emma, your mother and I've been thinking, and we've come to the decision that what is best for you is to be away from Regina for some time." Henry has never seen Emma so mad. Mary-Margaret screams when Emma cocks her fist back and slams it against David's face.
"You take advantage of the fact that I am away for two days, break into and trash the Mayor's home, kidnap the mayor and beat our son?" Emma grows angrier as she yells. Henry is standing at the bars, still holding the splotchy balled up tissue to his nose. Definitely broken.
"I'm not a child who needs looking after. You weren't there when I needed you, what makes you think I need you now." David hisses in pain as he gingerly touches his nose.
"Emma, I think you need-"
"What I need is for you to tell me where Regina is." She glances at Henry, "and to release my son." David unhooks the ring of keys from his belt and hands them over to Emma. She rushes over to the cell.
Henry throws his good arm around Emma's waist and buries his face in her stomach. He looks up at his mother, his face bloody and splotchy from tears.
"They took her away." He sobs. Emma can't help but think she has come a long way in the mothering department, because Henry's sobbing into her jacket doesn't disgust her as much as it once would have.
"We'll get her back." She glares at David and Mary-Margaret over Henry's head, her hand twisting through his soft brown hair. It is longer than usual; it has been a while since Regina has dragged him to get his hair trimmed.
"If you want to gain my trust, or reach whatever familial goal you expect to achieve, you will start by telling me where Regina is." She demands, her tone leaving no room for argument. Mary-Margaret appears confused. David looks like he wants the floor to open up beneath him and swallow him whole. He ducks his head and whether it be in shame or fear, he's not quite sure.
"She's at Storybrooke General Hospital. She's in a coma." Mary-Margaret steps away from her husband in shock.
"David?" She snaps, "What happened?"
"Momma invited David over to make amends." Henry is the one who speaks up. "She told me that means she was gonna fix everything. David came and we had dinner and I had to go to bed, but I came down to get some juice and heard yelling. Momma came into the kitchen and told me to hide but Dr. Whale found me in the pantry." Henry is crying and hiccupping and his voice is lisping pathetically because of the broken nose.
"David told me he would take me to my mom if I stayed quiet. But then he lied to you. They were attacking her, Emma. They hurt her real bad." He buries his face in her shirt again.
"My book is a lie. They are not the heroes, they are the villains." He is muffled by Emma's leather jacket. Her heart breaks.
"Come on, Henry; let's go see your mom." She tugs at his hoodie. She notices his teenage mutant ninja turtle pajamas and briefly considers taking him home to change first, but decides against it, remembering the condition of his house.
She leaves her parents with the promise that she would deal with them later. As she and Henry exit the office, they hear Mary-Margaret start screaming at David. Apparently she was not aware of what happened.
Emma gets Henry loaded in her bug and drives them over to Storybrook General Hospital. It has stopped raining and as she pulls into the hospital parking lot the sun peeks out through a break in the clouds.
"Henry, I'm going to take you to the emergency room for your nose," she explains, "and I'm going to look for your mom."
"No! I want to see her too!" He yells frustrated.
"Henry, you will be able to see her, but your nose is broken, you need to get it looked at." She caresses his cheek, "your mother would have a heart attack if she saw you like this." The corner of her lip quirks up. His head drops.
"Okay," He is defeated. Emma is surprised. The spark is gone, he is empty. They step out of the car and make their way to the emergency room entrance, dodging puddles and half melted piles of grey snow.
December hit Storybrooke like a truck, snowstorms every other weekend, days off of school, mountains of snow growing at the edge of parking lots. Emma argued with Regina a few times when she was trying to persuade Emma to settle her affairs in Boston that driving would be too dangerous, but eventually the weather settled down enough to make the trip.
She regrets it.
Nothing in Boston was worth the pain and fear she is feeling now. Nothing in Boston was worth the heartbreak of seeing Henry, broken and bloody, a shell of his usual vibrant self.
After she gets Henry signed in and finds Regina she realizes she has never felt anger like this, white-hot fury like molten lava, threatening to boil over.
Nothing in Boston was worth her soulmate lying in a hospital bed, hanging by thread. Face swollen, black and purple, marks around her throat, clearly fingers, leg in a cast, arm in a sling.
It could be worse.
The nurse tells her, later, after she calms down, that Regina almost didn't make it. That doesn't make any of this better. She can't even recognize Regina. She feels helpless, the same kind of helplessness she felt as a child in foster care, the kind of feeling you get when you know there is absolutely nothing you can do to fix your situation. When you know you will be stuck watching other foster kids drive away in cars with new families, but never being in one.
She gets a call from the nurse she left Henry with when he is finished. She doesn't want to bring him to see his mother, not like this.
But she does it anyways.
He cries, and frankly, it's gross. His nose is weirdly crooked and Emma knows when Regina wakes up she's going to hate it more than she's going to hate anything that happened to herself. Henry cries at the edge of Regina's bed, afraid to even touch her. Emma can barely look at her. The things she first noticed about the Mayor; bright eyes, small cute nose, full lips, sharp jaw, soft cheeks. Gone. Buried under bruises and bandages.
Nothing is worth this pain.
Please, please, please review. It really does motivate me to write faster and get updates quicker.
