Chapter 13
"I can't even see your face properly," Emma complained, her hand resting on Henry's thigh as she cursed the face mask her son was wearing because her last blood test had shown her immune cell count to be at an alarmingly low level.
"If I take it off and they kick me out, you won't even be able to see half of my face," he reminded her with a grin, placing his hand over hers. "And besides, I don't plan on infecting you with any germs."
Emma rolled her eyes and turned strained onto her back. She was beginning to barely know how to lie, but getting up and moving was even less of a thought. They really tried hard here and provided her well with all kinds of medications that were supposed to reduce the side effects of the aggressive chemotherapy to a minimum, but she still felt nauseous all the time and after more than a week by now her whole body was an ache, she couldn't even clearly define the source. "Now you're starting to sound like the doctors here."
Henry shrugged and grinned mischievously. "I'm learning from the best, after all," he pointed out.
Emma clutched her forehead. "It's Tuesday," she then stated in shock.
"Right," Henry nodded.
"Today was your class. I'm sorry, I completely forgot. How was it?" Emma was annoyed with herself for not asking Henry about it sooner, but the days blurred into a single mush of repetitive events in here that she barely knew what year it was, let alone what day of the week.
"It was cool. We got to do CPR on a doll," he launched right in enthusiastically, describing everything they'd learned about it to Emma.
She smiled and didn't take her eyes off Henry for a moment as he spoke. It wasn't that she wasn't listening to him, but mostly she was preoccupied with his muster and enjoying the time he was here with her. "That sounds really interesting," she finally nodded when he finished and turned back to her side, her face contorted in pain. "I still sincerely hope we don't let it get to that point with me," she then replied, stroking his hair.
Henry nodded slowly and let his gaze wander over Emma for a moment. Most of the time he managed to keep a straight face, but sometimes he couldn't just look away when she was in bad shape. "You're in quite a bit of pain," he noted softly with that, patting her shoulder awkwardly for a moment.
"I'm fine, kid. They're giving me meds for it," she assured him.
"They don't help very much, then."
Emma couldn't help but grin in agony. "It's all right. I've had the puncture in my back today as well, I'm sure it'll be better tomorrow," she tried to reassure him.
"What puncture?", Henry immediately wanted to know in alarm.
"Everything is going according to plan, kid. No need to worry."
"Then you can tell me what kind of puncture, can't you?" he indicated, looking her in the eye.
Emma returned the look and, after a few seconds, sighed defeatedly. "It hasn't changed the fact that I'm not so good with all that stuff, you know? I'm sure your mom could tell you all about it," she tried to joke before getting serious again. "I get the drugs injected not only into my bloodstream, but also into the spinal canal in my back."
"Do they always do that?"
Actually, she should be glad that her son was so inquisitive, since most teenagers his age tended to be in a phase where they showed interest in purely nothing, but at that moment she rather wished for the conventional teenager at her bedside. "Yeah, they always do that," she finally nodded. She could see that Henry tried to process this newfound information.
"Is it dangerous?" he then wanted to know.
Emma sighed, "No more dangerous than the rest."
"Why didn't you tell me about this?" he immediately responded indignantly.
"I didn't think it mattered," it came honestly surprised from Emma. "It's routine, doctors do it all the time for all sorts of reasons."
Henry was silent, staring at the floor.
"Hey, look at me," Emma prompted him, propping herself up a bit with her forearms despite her pain.
After a while, Henry lifted his head and met her gaze.
"Have I been hiding anything from you lately?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "How would I know?"
"I haven't. I've always been honest with you, no matter how bad or frustrating the news. And that's the way it stays. I know you're not a little boy anymore who couldn't take it. I certainly know that even better than Regina, I've never wrapped you in cotton wool," she indicated. "And it's going to stay that way. I'll tell you everything, even if it's setbacks, understand?" Her urgent look made it clear how important this matter was to her.
"Sure, I know. Sorry," it finally came from Henry in an embarrassed murmur before he stood up, bent over Emma and gently slid his hands under her shoulder blades to lay her back down.
Emma held back the sound of pain brewing in her throat and just breathed deeply as she rested back in her pillows, closing her eyes for a few breaths. Every touch on her sensitive, overstimulated skin was tantamount to torture, and already the sheets felt like sandpaper every time she moved.
"Shall I go, do you want to sleep?" it came uncertainly from Henry when he saw her like this.
Immediately Emma opened her eyes again and shook her head. "You just got here!" it came almost panicked from her before she muffled her voice again. "Unless you're up to something else, or..." She just raised her hand weakly without finishing the sentence. She had already told him enough times that he didn't have to stay if he couldn't stand her condition.
"No, then I'll stay," he nodded. "I just thought you might be too tired."
"Tell me more about the class," she asked. "Did you do anything else?"
Henry nodded. "We practiced different bandages, and they told us what to do if someone passes out or has a stroke or heart attack, things like that."
"You knew that before," she smirked, before the memory of regaining consciousness between Regina's roses made her laugh.
"And what's so funny about that now?" Henry wanted to know, raising an eyebrow, something he'd seen constantly throughout his childhood and had eventually perfected himself.
Emma shook her head, still laughing. "I was just thinking about that moment when I was in your mom's flower bed. I know you guys were worried, but Regina's look was just too funny."
Now Henry laughed briefly as well. "I wouldn't be surprised if she rips out the roses and plants less thorny flowers in case someone gets sick again."
This statement made Emma laugh even harder. Even though it hurt, she enjoyed this moment like no other. It had become far too rare for them to laugh so heartily. "Don't let her hear that. She doesn't like it when we make fun of her paranoia."
Henry snorted again, but then nodded and brushed tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes.
"Henry, how is she doing by now?", Emma then wanted to know seriously again. Of course, she saw her every day and when she didn't come to the hospital, they at least talked for a few minutes via video chat. But she also knew that Regina pulled herself together during that time to not let something show.
"Better, I'd say," he agreed, meeting Emma's surprised gaze. "She's nervous, yes. But since she freed you from Grandma's clutches last week, she seems more confident and stable to me somehow."
Emma couldn't put into words how glad she was about that. She had been much more afraid that Regina would become more unstable with each passing day that carried her off more. "My mother can activate unimagined powers in her," she joked.
"I rather think she's proud of overcoming herself to come to you and tell you how she really feels. You know her, she doesn't exactly peddle her feelings, so this was a big step for her."
With a nod, Emma had to agree with him. "I'm proud of her, too. And of you."
"Of me?" he asked, puzzled.
"Of course, of you. It's not exactly easy to see your own mother like that, I realize, even though I grew up without parents. It would be only too understandable if you withdrew."
Completely uncomprehending, Henry looked at her. "No more spending time with you, and then what? If you do die, I still want to have as many moments with you as possible."
They were harsh words, but they made Emma smile. "I'm glad you feel that way," it came from her honestly. "Are you hungry?"
"A little, maybe. I only had a roll for lunch," he admitted.
"There's some money in the wardrobe, grab some and go to the cafeteria, I don't want to be to blame if you starve. Imagine your mom," she grinned in response.
"Alright...do you want me to bring you something?"
"No way!"
Henry narrowed his eyes for a split second. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking," he then muttered, grabbing a few coins from Emma's purse.
As he walked back past the bed, Emma held him back a moment longer with a grip around his wrist. "Please don't apologize about something like that. There's absolutely nothing wrong with it, okay?" She looked her son firmly in the eye, though her gaze was not as fiery as before, but dull with medication and exhaustion in equal measure.
Henry returned the look and nodded briefly. "Okay. But I should have known. I'll eat downstairs too, so you won't see, okay?"
Emma nodded and stroked his forearm briefly with her thumb before letting go and whispering softly, "Thank you." She looked after her son and after he closed the door behind him, Emma turned laboriously to the other side and pressed the nurse call.
It wasn't long before the nurse on duty entered the room after a brief knock. "Hello, Emma. How can I help you?"
"Hi. I'm sorry to bother you," she began, making every effort to sit up in bed. "I need to use the bathroom." She was so ashamed of having to call someone specifically to do this that she couldn't bring herself to look at the nurse.
The latter nodded and joined her at the bedside, where she helped her sit up fully at the edge of the bed. "You don't always have to apologize, you know. It's our job to help you."
Emma twisted her face into a sarcastic grin and looked at her after all. "That might be, but I'll be 33 soon. I actually thought it would be another 50 years before someone had to help me get to the bathroom," she countered, drawing air sharply through her teeth as she stood up, feeling as if her bones would burst at any moment.
While Emma held onto the IV stand with one hand, she was supported on the other side by the nurse, who watched her closely. "You haven't taken a painkiller all day today. Who are you trying to prove something to?"
"No one," she brought out between clenched teeth. "But I knew my son would visit me after school and his class, and those damn pills make me so tired."
Understanding, she nodded and, matching Emma's pace, walked with her step by step into the small bathroom. "Henry really is a great kid," she nodded.
"He is." A brief smile settled on Emma's face before it gave way again to the tormented expression from before. "Thanks, I can manage now." With knees trembling with exertion, she held onto the edge of the sink and waited for the nurse to give her privacy.
"You sure? I can stay" it came honestly from the young woman, who was afraid Emma's legs would just give way sooner or later.
"Dead sure," she nodded, however, without looking up.
"Then please call again when you're done," she relented, leaving Emma alone in the bathroom.
The blonde took a few deep breaths before taking the last steps to the toilette and sitting down. Exhausted, she leaned her forehead against the pleasantly cool tiles and closed her eyes. She was almost through the first cycle of chemo; one more shot, then she would be allowed to go home the next day when it would be empty. While she had been looking forward to this day just a week before, it now caused panic in her. She could not ask Henry or Regina to help her to the bathroom. She was trapped in a nightmare from which there was no waking. Her doctor had assured her that her condition would improve as soon as she was no longer permanently administered the chemotherapy, but she should not expect miracles either.
Tears came to her eyes, which she wiped away angrily as she thought about what she had become. Gritting her teeth, she shuffled the few steps back to the sink and washed her face and hands in cold water. She couldn't believe how exhausting even that was. Again, she propped herself on the edge of the sink and stared at her reflection. She wasn't surprised that Henry had asked her if she wanted something to eat. Her cheeks were already completely sunken after the abundant week, and the skin stretched noticeably over her collarbones. Her eyes were dull, her hair straw-like. She really admired her son for putting himself through this sight every day and averted her eyes.
Gripping the IV stand tightly, she finally made her way back to her bed. She told herself that she could do it, that it was only a short distance, and that after all, she wanted to get to her home the day after tomorrow at the latest, where the distances were much longer and there were stairs to climb. With difficulty, she made it to the table that was halfway between the bathroom and the bed and lowered herself onto the chair there. She folded her arms in front of her on the tabletop and let her pounding head sink down on it.
She didn't know how much time had passed when the door opened again and the nurse returned.
"I told you to use the nurse call," she said when she found Emma sitting at the table.
Emma nodded and brushed her hair back. "I would have, but it worked out alone," she said, not mentioning that her real destination had been her bed. "My son will be right back, so I'll sit here until he does."
Hesitantly, the nurse eyed her for a moment and finally nodded. "All right. Then I'll change the syringe."
While the nurse hurried outside to get the medicine, Emma was already exposing the IV on her chest. She stared at it thoughtfully, hoping Regina wouldn't be completely repulsed by the sight.
"Are you all right?" the nurse who had just returned asked when she noticed Emma's critical gaze and went to work on the catheter.
"Sure," Emma nodded, watching her. "It looks stunning, doesn't it?"
"No one will see it," she assured her.
Emma laughed. "Yeah, no one I'd care about. My girlfriend will, though."
When she finished, the nurse took a seat in the second chair and looked at Emma. "Your girlfriend certainly isn't with you just because of your pretty looks, Emma."
"No, but you don't know her. She even felt bad for me when I've had nosebleeds. Any obvious sign of my illness throws her completely off balance."
Astonishment settled into the nurse's gaze.
"What?"
"The mayor lets herself go off the rails?" she dared to ask.
Emma didn't know what to say to that at first. Why did everyone just see Regina as a callous, unapproachable machine? "She's a person like you and me. She suffers with me and she's afraid for me, as it would be with any other partner. So yes, it throws her off. Thank you for your help." She didn't feel like listening to her accusatory questions regarding Regina any longer. She didn't care that there were still enough people who didn't approve of their relationship, but she absolutely could not stand Regina being portrayed as inhumane.
The nurse took the hint, rose and picked up her tray. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to offend you."
You could hear that the apology was sincere, but Emma still managed no more than a curt nod at that moment and looked away from her until she was alone in her room again. With another glance to her cleavage, she made sure the catheter was again completely covered by her clothing so Henry couldn't see it, and then waited for him to return.
To Emma's surprise, however, after the next knock, not only Henry entered her room, but Regina as well. As soon as she saw her girlfriend, a brief glow moved across her face and made her eyes sparkle. "I didn't know they had such great stuff in the cafeteria, kid," she commented, extending her hand toward them.
Regina unwound her scarf and then closed the short distance to Emma. Gently squeezing her fingers, she didn't let go of her hand even as she took a seat in the chair across from her. "Hello," it then came from her in a tender voice with a deep look in her eyes.
"Hi," Emma whispered and would have given anything to feel Regina's warm lips on hers. But she, of course, also wore a face mask and also made every effort to keep physical contact to a minimum. "You can hug me, you know," she couldn't help saying.
"You know how susceptible you are to infections," she immediately advised, however.
"Yes, and tomorrow or the day after I'll be discharged and sleep in the same bed as you. Or have you already put a partition there, too?" she asked her with a laugh.
Regina rolled her eyes, got up and opened Emma's closet. "I brought you some fresh clothes. Some sweat jackets and shirts."
Emma nodded and thanked her. "How was the meal, kid?" she then turned to her son, who was in the middle of typing a message on his smartphone.
"Very good, considering it came from a hospital cafeteria. Nothing against Mom's casseroles, but edible."
Just thinking about how the cheese on the casserole pulled strings when you stabbed your fork into it made her nauseous, so she quickly changed the subject. "Who are you writing to? Do you have any plans?"
Somewhat contrite, Henry looked at her. "No, it's fine."
"Hey, young man. What's up?"
"Nothing, my friends just asked if I had time for a soccer game. I already canceled," he explained quickly, pocketing his cell phone.
"You have time though. You don't have to sit here all day and let the sight of my carcass wash over you."
"Emma!" it came from Regina in horror.
"No, I'm serious! Henry, go join your friends and have some fun. Your mom is here now, and later I'll be asleep. I'm glad you were there, but you have a life of your own too, so enjoy it," it came unusually serious from her.
Henry hesitated and looked at her with a tilted head.
"Go on, get out of here. I love you."
He sighed and came up to Emma again to put a hand on her shoulder. "All right. I love you, too. See you tomorrow!" With that, he swung his backpack over one shoulder and walked outside, his cell phone already in his hand again.
Emma took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment before meeting Regina's gaze. "What? It's not good for him to see me like this all the time."
"Maybe, but you could have phrased that differently," Regina indicated, taking a seat across from her again. "You seem completely tense. Is everything all right with you?"
"Sure, everything's wonderful. I just have leukemia and I'm trapped in this fucking hospital," Emma snorted, putting a hand to her forehead.
"You've had it yesterday too, and you weren't so angry at yourself and the world then," the brunette nodded, taking her girlfriend's hand again.
At that moment, all the tension fell off Emma and her shoulders slumped. "I was so looking forward to home," she whispered, staring at the edge of the table.
"And now?"
"Now I'm just scared of it."
"Of what, exactly?" Regina wanted to know.
Emma was silent for a moment. "Of not being able to manage on my own."
"You don't have to."
"And even more of you helping me," she added, looking at Regina. "I can't help it, but that's the way it is. I've always been alone, all my life. There was no one I could have depended on, except myself. And now, all of a sudden, I have to rely solely on others because my body is failing me, because I'm completely lost without the help of others."
Regina nodded; she understood her, but at the same time wanted her to understand that these concerns existed only in her head and no one else was concerned about them. "It could be much worse, you know."
"Oh yeah, is that supposed to cheer me up now?" Emma asked incredulously.
"Imagine if you didn't have Henry and me and had to go to your parents."
Emma screwed up her face and then actually had to smile a little. "Okay, I'm really feeling much better now."
Regina grinned and squeezed her hand. "I thought so."
The smile was gone from Emma's lips as quickly as it had come, however, and the longer they sat here, the more she sank into herself.
"I think it's time for you to lie down again," it finally came quietly from Regina, who had been watching her girlfriend's body language for a while. Without waiting for a response, she stood up and slid an arm around Emma's back.
Without any resistance, the latter propped herself up with her hands on the table and then leaned against Regina to let her take her to the bed. Every step was an ordeal and when they finally arrived, she simply dropped onto the mattress with her back to Regina and let out the pent-up pain in a brief wince and quiet sob.
Regina covered her and took a seat on the edge of the bed, where she slowly stroked her hair. "Did you refuse to take your painkillers again?" she wanted to know in a whisper with no accusation in her voice.
Emma shook her head. "They make me so woozy. I was so looking forward to see Henry," she then answered her tonelessly, tersely.
"I'll have them given to me for you now, all right?"
This time Emma nodded and kept her eyes closed as Regina got up, left the room, and returned a moment later with a cup full of pills.
Regina helped her take them and then sat with her again. She stroked her until Emma's rapid breathing calmed and she was sure she had finally found sleep. Only then did she wipe the tears from her cheeks that had silently made their way out of her eyes and drive home.
