"Emma!" The gentle tugs at her hand hadn't been enough to capture her attention, so Henry was forced to up the stakes to a rough yank. "Emma, come on! We have to go!"
Blinking hard as if coming out of a daydream, Emma finally tore her eyes from the purple cloud writhing outside the hospital window and looked down at her son. Henry was staring up at her with an expression that was equal parts eagerness and panic. She gripped his hand tightly, feeling the warmth of his fingers around hers. Emma was not one to seek comfort in physical contact but this contact reassured her that he was alive. That he was okay. That she had called him back from the depths and that, shockingly, he had answered.
It was another few seconds before what he'd said to her registered. "Go?"
"Yes!" He shook his hand from hers before running back over to his bed. He tossed the blanket aside and lifted the sheet only to drop it in exasperation. "Do you know where they put my clothes?"
"Henry, I think you should–"
"Emma!" He sounded impatient now, causing her to arch an eyebrow at him. "Do you know where my clothes are? I can't leave until we find them."
"Whoa, slow down," Emma said, pressing a hand to her forehead. Things were moving entirely too fast for her. Henry had just been dead. Like, flatlined, no pulse, not breathing dead. Dr. Whale had called time of death and everything! The kid being up and walking around and talking was a flippin'
miracle, and now he wanted to leave, as in leave the hospital? Why the hell did he want to leave?
Could they even leave? Something told her a patient didn't just walk away from a freaking resurrection, no questions asked. "Henry, you were just … you were ..."
You were dead, she wanted to scream, if only to make him understand, but she couldn't seem to force the words out. "Can you please sit down and take it easy for a second?" was all she said instead.
He shook his head, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth. "No. We have to go find them. Don't you see, Emma? They know who they are now, which means they'll know who you are."
She turned his words over in her head a few times before she got it. Before she figured out who "they" were.
David and Mary Margaret. Prince Charming and Snow White.
Her parents.
Emma felt her ankles getting wobbly, her knees turning to jelly. Thank God for Henry's empty hospital bed because she ended up sitting down on it hard. Her breathing was ragged, coming out in short, quick pants. Holy crap, she was losing it.
Stop, she commanded herself. First, her breathing. Deep breath in, controlled breath out. Deep breath in, controlled breath out. It took a few moments but soon she was able to breathe normally. Then she switched her attention to trying to quiet her swirling thoughts.
That proved far more difficult. She'd just found out that magic was real, that the stories she grew up hearing were true, and that her parents were freaking Snow White and Prince Charming. She'd attended a meeting with Rumpelstiltskin and the Evil Queen, watched a grown man turn to wood, fought a dragon, revived her son with the power of True Love's Kiss, and broken the Dark Curse. And now Emma had to meet her parents? The parents she'd spent her entire life believing had thrown her along the side of the road like a piece of garbage?
"Too fast" didn't even begin to cover the pace at which things were moving.
This was not how finding her parents was supposed to happen. It was a search and an outcome that was supposed to have been on her terms. Emma had thought she would be able to observe them from afar for a while first, see what they were like. And then, after watching them a while and working up her courage, she could go give them a piece of her mind.
She supposed she had observed David and Mary Margaret here in Storybrooke, but that hardly counted. She hadn't known they were her parents then. But they were her parents, and now she knew them. She knew them and liked them, her annoyance with David on Mary Margaret's behalf notwithstanding. David had never done anything egregious to Emma herself, certainly nothing to warrant the vitriol she'd planned to spew at her parents. And Mary Margaret? How could she spew vitriol at Mary Margaret? She was … Mary Margaret, for crying out loud.
This wasn't … fair. Or right. It certainly wasn't how she'd ever dreamed meeting her parents would go.
Henry's bustling around the room finally caught Emma's eye. She reached out, grabbed hold of his hand, and tugged him down on the edge of the bed with her. "Will you please slow down? You were just ..." The little furrowed brow made it clear that Henry had absolutely no idea how serious his condition had been. "I almost lost you. Can you just sit for a second? Please?"
His features softened a little in understanding, though she knew he simply understood that she was worried about him. He still hadn't comprehended the fact that he had died for a few minutes. Maybe he shouldn't ever understand that, though. He was just a kid. Maybe she should just let him think he was only in a slumber that mimicked death, like Snow White.
The two of them sat in silence for a few seconds, but those few seconds were apparently all Henry could allow. His voice was soft when he spoke up again. "Emma, we need to go find them. They're going to want to see you, make sure you're okay."
"I'm fine," she said even though she was anything but.
"They're going to want to see that, though," Henry told her gently. "If you were separated from me and someone told you I was fine, would you believe them? Or would you want to see it for yourself?"
That'd be the day she took anyone at their word in a situation like the one Henry described. She would move heaven and earth if she had to but she'd definitely need to see with her own eyes that the kid was okay.
Aw, crap. Now she understood what he'd been trying to tell her. Swallowing hard, she met his eyes and nodded. "I'll find your clothes. Just stay here and relax."
He opened his mouth to protest but she gave a quick shake of her head, stopping his argument before he could get out even one word of it. "You've been through a lot in the past few hours. Humor me, okay?"
He nodded in acquiescence, which both shocked and pleased Emma. She had expected an argument but was glad it hadn't come down to one. Now to find Henry's clothes.
She remembered seeing the nurses packing his clothes and backpack into a big plastic bag when he arrived at the hospital but where that bag had ended up was anyone's guess. She finally found it in the far corner of the room. She walked back over to the bed, handing Henry the bag. "Thanks," he said as he took it from her. "Can I go change now?"
Emma wanted to tell him no, if only so that they wouldn't be able to leave, but the poor kid's teeth had started to chatter. Figuring her son getting warm was far more important than her upcoming emotional upheaval, she nodded at him.
As soon as Henry disappeared into the bathroom to change, Emma set about tracking down Dr. Whale. She finally found him at the emergency room reception desk. "I'm sorry for asking this in the middle of everything," she said to the doctor, "but Henry's chomping at the bit to leave. Is it okay if we go? Medically, I mean?"
After the words left her mouth, it hit her that Dr. Whale might not even be a real doctor. Who was he back in the Enchanted Forest? Henry had never told her.
Her fears were assuaged slightly when he gave her a nod. "He's doing quite well, considering. His vitals are all normal. I can give him a once-over if you'd like, but I have no problem discharging him."
Real doctor or not, the man had practiced medicine for twenty-eight years, which was exactly twenty-eight years longer than Emma had. A professional eye looking over the kid would set her mind at ease. "If you wouldn't mind giving him a quick checkup, that'd be great."
"Of course," Whale said, smiling a smile she swore was genuine. It was certainly more genuine than any smile she'd seen on him previously. Actually, now that she thought about it, she couldn't recall ever seeing him smile before.
Henry stepped out of the bathroom to find Emma and Dr. Whale waiting for him. Emma explained about the checkup before leaving. Henry protested, of course, because what ten-year-old enjoyed sitting through a checkup? Emma hushed him and Dr. Whale got to work.
A few minutes later, Dr. Whale proclaimed Henry healthy as a horse. The kid shot an I-told-you-so look at Emma, who answered it with a no-nonsense look of her own. "Thank you, Dr. Whale," she said.
"You're very welcome," the doctor replied. "It's great seeing you up and about, Henry." He smiled again before walking out the door, leaving Emma and Henry to get themselves situated in private.
"Now can we go find David and Mary Margaret?" Henry asked, the impatience returning to his voice.
"Hey," Emma chided. She didn't want to come right out and tell him to watch his tone but the single word seemed to get the point across. With no other reasons for procrastination, though, and because she was trying not to excite Henry too much after his ordeal, she had no other choice but to nod an agreement to her son.
Grinning widely, Henry latched onto her hand. He pulled her out of the room and through the hospital doors, babbling about how he bet her parents couldn't wait to see her.
They may not have been able to wait to see her but she wasn't quite sure she wanted to see them. Not yet, not before she'd had a chance to get used to the idea. For Christ's sake, she'd been living with her mother all this time and never knew! She much preferred it when
she and Mary Margaret simply joked about Mary Margaret being Emma's mother.
Wait a second, maybe Henry was wrong. Not that he'd been wrong about the rest of it, but that was beside the point. Maybe he'd gotten this part of it wrong. Maybe David and Mary Margaret weren't her parents after all.
She was surprised to feel a twinge of sadness at the thought.
Make up your damn mind, she thought, rolling her eyes at herself. Did she want them to be her parents or didn't she? She had no flipping clue. Her head was spinning and she was finding it rather hard to think straight.
"There they are," Henry whispered, once again tugging at her hand.
What? Already? Hadn't they just left the hospital? This search had not taken enough time in the slightest. But Henry was right, as usual. David and Mary Margaret stood ahead of them in the street, exchanging hugs with Ruby and Granny and a group of men including Mr. Clark and … Leroy? Seriously?
"You ready?" Henry asked, looking up at Emma with a bright smile.
Not at all. She managed to shoot a tiny smile at Henry, though, as he pulled her forward.
It was now or never.
