A/N- Thank you to everyone who left their thoughts and reviews on the last chapter, it meant a lot. And thank you so much to everyone who has viewed this story, it means so much. I won't keep you from reading, so here's chapter 28. I hope you enjoy.
"Can you tell me your name?" The doctor, now known as Dr. Hill, asked me.
"Emma Swan," I said without hesitation.
"When's your birthday?"
"October 22, 2001."
"How old are you?"
I stopped for a second to think, but my mind was coming up empty. "I don't know," I admitted quietly.
"What year is it?"
"I don't know."
"Alright," he mumbled before scribbling it down onto his, well technically my, chart. "Who is the president?"
"I don't know," I repeated, beginning to get exasperated by not only his questions but at the fact that I didn't know the answers.
"Do you know who this is?" he asked, pointing to the kid with shaggy blonde hair and baby blue eyes.
It's rude to point is what I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue. Instead, I shook my head and for some odd reason, my heart hurt when the kid's face fell and he clutched the older blonde woman's hand tighter.
"Do you know who anyone in the room is?"
"I know you're Dr. Hill and she's Laura," I said, smirking slightly at his perturbed face.
"Emma, I know this is difficult, but I need you to work with me if you want to accomplish anything."
"You don't know shit," I scowled.
"Emma!" the curly black haired woman exclaimed.
"It's the truth," I shot back. "He doesn't know what it feels like to not remember anything about your life! I don't know my age, what year it is, who any of you are, anything! So yeah, the doctor doesn't know shit," I finished with a scowl.
"She's right," Dr. Hill said before the blonde haired woman could protest. He turned to face me, and I stared defiantly into his cool grey-blue eyes. "Emma, I don't know what you're going through, you're right about that. But I've had enough patients with this same problem that I know arguing with me at every turn will only stunt your recovery, physical and mental. I truly want to help you recover your lost memories, not only so your family can have some peace but so you can."
I wilted a little under his words, sensing his honesty. I don't know how I could tell he was being honest, but he was. Almost like a superpower, I mused. "Can you really help me get my memories back?"
"Yes, but it will take time, effort, and the help of your family."
I sighed. How was my family supposed to help me if I couldn't remember who any of them were? "Alright," I said instead of voicing my true thoughts.
"Ok then. I'm going to go talk to your parents. Talk with your family. The smallest thing could trigger your memory," he told me before gesturing to the two women to follow him out to the hall.
"I'm Brandon," the tall shaggy brown haired boy said.
"Nice to meet you," I said. Again, my mind supplied.
"I'm Mariana."
"Callie."
"Jesus."
"Jude."
The smallest boy remained quiet, but he was staring straight at me.
"Hey kid, what's your name?" I asked curiously.
"Do you really not remember?" he replied.
"I'm sorry, but I really don't."
He pursed his lips but eventually his name slipped from his lips. "Neal."
Apparently that did something, because I found something like a video playing right in front of my eyes.
Emma's memory
Brandon and I headed down the steps to the parking lot, then he got a text from Lena.
"Hey, looks like we've got another sibling."
"Another one? Aren't you guys already at the max with me?"
Brandon let out a snort at my statement. "I thought so too, but Mom and Mama have big hearts. It's a boy from the child abuse case Mom got called in on today."
"Oh," I muttered.
"Yeah, we all hate those cases."
"I guess we'll just have to do our best to make him feel welcome. Did Lena mention his name?"
"Hang on, let me check." He unlocked the car and we got in and buckled our seatbelts while waiting on Lena's response.
"Ahh, here we go. His name is Neal."
At that, my face blanched. It couldn't possibly be him, could it?
"Brandon?"
"Yeah?" He asked while pulling out of the parking lot.
"Get us home, now."
He must have sensed the urgency in my voice, for he got us home as fast as possible without breaking any laws. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, I jumped out of the car without waiting for him to park and turn it off, and sprinted toward the front door. It slammed open while I rushed into the kitchen, not paying any notice to the eyes that were on me as I frantically scanned the room. My eyes then fell on him, sitting at the table, staring right back at me with the same hopeful expression.
"Neal?" My voice trembled.
"Emma!" He shouted.
He scrambled off the chair, racing towards me as I held out my arm, and he collided into me. Our arms wrapped around each other tightly, as if it would keep us from losing each other again. My face buried into his hair, as I breathed in his scent, the scent I have missed for so long.
"Emma! I thought I'd never see you again," he said, voice muffled from being buried in my stomach.
"Me too kiddo, me too," I mumbled.
"Let me look at you," I cupped his cheeks in my hands, staring into those beautiful blue eyes I thought I'd never see again.
"Oh my god, how did you get so big?!" I asked, now noticing the silent tears streaming down both our faces.
He gave me a toothless smile.
"It has been five years," He teased.
Then, his face turned serious. "I never stopped hoping you would find me," he said.
I let out a breathy laugh, and brought him right back into my arms, silently promising to never lose him again. It was then that I noticed the bruises adorning his face, and felt the anger starting to rise up. I shoved it back down so as not to scare Neal.
"Kid, who did this to your face?"
"Alan Thatcher, my foster dad."
I was filled with a rush of emotions at once, but at the forefront, it was sadness, knowing that I wasn't there to protect him like I promised him I would be. I silently vowed to myself to never let anyone or anything hurt him like this again.
"Although this is a nice reunion, Emma, love, do you mind telling us how you know each other?"
The answer Stef got stopped all motion in the room, much like it did when I asked if Stef and Lena were dykes.
"Everyone, this is my brother Neal."
End of memory
When it ended, I stared at the little dude in amazement. "You're my brother?"
His whole being seemed to light up at that. "You remember?" he asked excitedly.
"I don't know. Were we reunited at their house?"
His head bobbed up and down, and I gave him a small smile. "Well what do you know, it looks like I remember something after all. Those two out in the hall, they're Stef and Lena?" I asked, not too sure if I was correct on the names.
"Yes. The blonde one is Stef, our mom, and the other one is Lena, our Mama," the brown haired girl, Callie I think, told me.
"Do I have to call them that?" I inquired, feeling uncomfortable calling what were essentially complete and utter strangers Mom and Mama.
"No, you didn't call them that before," said Jude.
"I didn't?"
"No," Mariana replied.
"Why?"
They all exchanged glances with one another, apparently not sure I could handle the truth.
"How am I supposed to remember who I am if you guys won't tell me who I am?" I questioned, stunning half of them while the other half sighed in defeat.
"There's no way to put this delicately," Callie started.
"But you're a foster kid," Jesus said.
"You've only been with us a few days, but Mom and Mama want to adopt you and Neal," Brandon finished.
I was now the one who was stunned. I blinked once, twice, and dumbly repeated the answer in the form of a question. "Foster kid?"
"We don't know a lot, but we do know what you told us," said Jude.
"What did I tell you?" If I was to gain insight into who I was, I needed to know as much as I could.
"That your birth parents left you on the side of the road," Mariana said.
"The Lion King is your favorite movie because it gave you hope that you could have your own family through love, not blood," Brandon said.
I was thrown into another memory.
Memory
I woke up to the hushed whispers of Mariana, Stef, and Lena, and to the sound of Simba and Nala singing Can you Feel the Love Tonight? As my brain awakened, I caught the end of Stef's sentence.
"...adopting her, not right now, we're just taking care of her. We're providing her safety, a home where she feels wanted and loved."
I felt my breath catch in my throat when the words "adopting her" came out of Stef's mouth. I then realized they thought I was still asleep, so I slowed my breathing to try and calm my racing heart, and also to make sure they thought I was still asleep. I heard Lena agreeing with Stef's statement.
"That's right, and maybe, in the future, she'll be more open to the idea of having a forever home. But right now, all we can do is make sure she knows she is an integral part of this family, for always."
I could feel my eyes burning from trying to keep the pesky tears from slipping out. I took a deep breath, then pretended as though I was just waking up. I slowly lifted myself up from their laps, and let out a pretend yawn and stretched my arms out.
"Hello sleepy-head," Stef quipped.
I let out a breathy laugh. "Hi."
"Did you have a good nap?" Lena inquired.
"Yeah, surprisingly I did. I'm sorry if you were uncomfortable," I said while hiding behind my hair like it could turn me invisible at any moment.
"No honey, it was perfectly fine," Lena answered while giving me a reassuring smile.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course sweetheart," Stef replied.
I used my inner lie detector to see if they were lying, but they weren't, which surprised me once more. I avoided their gazes, and once theirs turned back to the screen, so did mine. I pouted when I realized it was almost over. The one time I got to watch it with permission, I fell asleep. I watched as Simba fought with Scar after realizing the truth, it wasn't his fault that his dad died, it was Scar's. I peeked at Jesus, and noticed the three empty bowls of popcorn near him. I shook my head. I had no idea how he could eat so much and not get sick. I turned my focus back to the screen, and let tears fill my eyes as Simba became the rightful leader of Pride Rock and had a little cub of his own.
"I'd forgotten how much I liked this movie," Brandon stated.
A chorus of agreement followed his words, and then his eyes snuck a peek at me.
"Hey Emma?" He asked.
"Yeah?"
"Why do you like this movie so much?"
"I guess it sort of reminds me of my story. Unlike Simba, my parents didn't die. In fact, I have no idea who they are or where they are, and I don't want to know. They left me on the side of the road. They didn't even bother to drop me off at a hospital. I then had a family until I was three. The mom became pregnant and decided it was too much so they sent me back. I've been bouncing around from home to home ever since, and I guess, when I first saw it, it gave me hope that one day I'll find a family of my own, a lot like Simba did at the end of the movie. With his mom, Timon and Pumba, and of course Nala and his cub, he created his own family, and I kind of want that for myself." By this point, I had a few tears streaming down my face, and everyone else had them glistening in their eyes. I wiped them away with my sleeve and continued.
"But, I'm 15 now, and nobody wants to adopt a 15 year old. Everyone is looking for the younger kids and the babies, not the kids who have walls so high it will take canons to knock them down." I surprised myself by how much I shared with them. I've never said any of this to any other parents I've had, and if I did, it took a hell of a lot longer than one day for me to say it. I made myself scarce by taking the bowls from where Jesus was sitting, and put them in the sink. I noticed a lot of the dishes weren't cleaned, so I made myself busy by cleaning them.
End of memory
I groaned, the beginnings of the medicine wearing off if the searing pain shooting through my thigh, arms, and head were any indication.
"How many memories have you had?" Dr. Hill asked.
"Two," I said through gritted teeth.
"Alright, I'm going to give you more morphine and then you're going to get some rest," he said.
"Sounds good to me," I managed to respond.
"Here we go," he said after he replaced the old medicine bag with the new one Laura gave him. "Now get some sleep."
"Will do Doc," I said, my eyes already fluttering closed from the medicine. I was out only seconds later, my head falling back into the pillows.
The conversation
"You didn't say anything about amnesia!" Stef hissed out the moment they stepped foot out of the room.
"Stef," Lena said, the warning ringing clear.
"No Lena! I want to know why she doesn't remember us," Stef growled, glaring menacingly into Dr. Hill's eyes.
"I didn't mention it because I didn't know for sure if she would remember or not. Be honest with me. If I had told you that Emma wasn't going to remember anything, that would be the only thing you and your family would focus on, correct?"
Lena nodded slowly as Stef continued to glare at him.
"Look, I know this is a shock and I know it's upsetting, but right now Emma, your daughter, needs you. She needs you guys to help her. She's going to be confused and upset and scared because she can't remember, and more likely than not, she's going to take it out on all of you. Just try to remain patient and try not to antagonize her."
"Is there anything else we should know?" Lena asked.
"Emma's most likely going to experience some random mood swings and she'll have trouble remembering new information given to her."
"Is that everything?" Stef asked. She was no longer glaring at the doctor, but she had her arms crossed and her don't-lie-to-me-again-or-you-will-regret-it face.
"That's everything," he confirmed.
"How long will she have to stay here?" Lena inquired.
"If everything goes well, when her clavicle and wrist are fully healed."
"Six to eight weeks, right?"
"Yes, and by then she should also be able to walk with the assistance of crutches."
"Crutches?!" Stef asked incredulously.
Dr. Hill nodded, and Stef's scowl returned. "How long will she need those for?"
"Until her PT believes her leg is strong enough to hold her weight."
"Who's her PT?" questioned Lena.
"I've assigned her to David Nolan. He's worked here for over 7 years and gets along with every child, including teenagers, he meets. He also volunteers at an animal shelter and his wife, Mary Margaret Nolan, volunteers here on weekends whenever she can spare the time. She's a fifth grade teacher at an elementary school during the weekdays."
"He sounds wonderful," said Lena.
"And someone Emma would absolutely rip apart," Stef snorted.
"I wouldn't have assigned him to Emma if I thought he couldn't handle it," Dr. Hill said confidently.
"Thank you Dr. Hill," Lena said, shaking the man's hand. "We would be quite lost without your help."
"Of course," he said, not even bothering to hold his hand out to Stef. "I also think it's time to give Emma her medicine," Thomas said, looking at his watch.
They entered the room just in time to hear Emma's groan. Stef's heart hurt for her baby. It should be her in that hospital bed, not her daughter. Stef was angry that she could do nothing but watch while the Doctor was the one to help her child through the pain. All she could do was watch from the sidelines and assist wherever she could. She watched as the morphine immediately took its toll. Emma's head fell back against the mountain of pillows and her eyes shut until she was completely oblivious to everything around her.
"She remembered reuniting with me at our house!" Neal told his mom excitedly.
Stef smiled down at her exuberant child as best as she could. "That's awesome sweetheart."
"I know!" he exclaimed, shrinking slightly under Stef's intense stare. "Sorry Mom, I'll be quiet."
"Thank you sweets. Your sister needs rest if she's going to be feeling better anytime soon."
"I know, but this sucks," he lamented.
Stef wholeheartedly agreed. "It does, but we have to do whatever we can to help Emma. I know I can, but can you?"
"I can!" Neal whispered excitedly.
Stef dropped a quick kiss to his mop of hair, then motioned to her family to leave the room so Emma could sleep peacefully. They would go back inside in an hour or so, but at that moment, they could let her rest.
A/N- Thoughts?