...y'all still here?... Cool. Enjoy the update!
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Chapter 6:
Emma spent the rest of the day making phone calls and filling out paperwork.
First, she called Neal back. The good news was he was able to grab a flight back home. The bad news was due to inclement weather, he was going to be delayed for several hours and wouldn't arrive until after dark. Judging from the tone of his voice, Neal was willing to push the plane himself all the way back if it meant getting there sooner.
Next, she called Henry's school and explained his current circumstances. The headmistress, school nurse, and guidance counselor all gave their condolences, asked how they could help, and even offered to set up a fundraiser for Henry's treatment. Emma thanked them, but declined. It didn't feel right to her asking other parents for money, even if it would help her son. Maybe it was short-sighted, but her pride was one of the few things she was clinging to currently.
Finally, she called her sisters. As expected, Mary Margaret completely freaked out while Elsa remained calm despite the tremors in her voice. They both immediately started asking the usual questions ("Are you alright? Do you need anything? What can we do to help?") and declared they were on the way over to the hospital. Mary Margaret even offered to bring some fresh clothes for her and more books for Henry. Emma vehemently argued against them coming because Elsa lived in New York and was busy with her job and while Mary Margaret had a nurturing soul, she had a tendency to get in the way.
Like all siblings, Emma loved them but they also drove her crazy. And her stress tolerance was currently well over the limit.
At the front desk, the receptionist handed her a stack of papers to fill out now that Henry had been officially admitted to the hospital. That proved to be a bigger pain, as she signed waiver after waiver and form after form, the words on the pages getting smaller and smaller. By the time she finished, her eyes hurt.
Henry slept mostly. The nurses had explained this was a usual side effect of the medication, along with some nausea. Still, it didn't stop Emma from hovering over his bed, checking to make sure he was still breathing. When he awoke to use the bathroom, he was very groggy. Emma helped guide him to and from the bed, while furiously trying to keep the familiar feeling of helplessness at bay.
From behind the dividing curtain, the Jones family was quiet as well. Emma had closed it sometime ago while Alice was napping. She was a little angry at the girl for telling Henry the truth about his diagnosis. Although deep down, she was also a tiny bit grateful. She had been too afraid to tell Henry the truth herself. Even after working up the courage earlier outside, the words suddenly died on her tongue when she returned to his room. They just didn't feel right.
How do you find the right words to tell your child that they're sick?
Emma sat down on the cot next to her son's bed. Jefferson had brought it, along with a pillow and blanket. Not that she'd be sleeping much tonight. She was too wired, petrified that if she closed her eyes, another horrible thing would happen. Jasmine, one of the nurses, had offered to show her the cafeteria, but Emma refused. She wasn't leaving this room until her husband was here.
"Here, love."
Emma slightly jumped, startled out of her musings. Killian Jones was standing above her, offering a woolen blanket.
"Thanks, but I already have one."
"Aye, but it can get a bit cold during the night."
Emma considered his offer for a few seconds, then shook her head. "Wool makes my eyes itch."
Killian lowered his arm, but continued to stare at her. Did he seem almost… hurt? But he shrugged. "Suit yourself, love." As he returned to his daughter, Emma suddenly felt ashamed. Here was Mr. Jones, trying to be cordial with her and she had been nothing but rude to him. After all, he of all people knew what she was going through. Maybe it was because she had spent most of her life alone, that she was often wary of others' motivations. Furiously, she rubbed her face, smudging what was left of her mascara.
"Hey, that's cheating!" Alice laughed.
Emma stood up. She was going to extend an olive branch and hope for the best. But just as her fingers brushed the curtain, a voice spoke behind her.
"Ems."
She whirled around. Neal was standing in the door, slightly out of breath. The hours had melted together, so much so that she didn't realize it was well after ten o'clock. A lump rose in her throat. It was something like out of a crappy dramedy; neither of them said anything for a few seconds, then they both rushed towards each other into a crushing hug. Emma could practically hear the violins swelling. His jacket had the telltale smell of the airport, an artificial clean.
"Where were you? I kept calling and texting, but you didn't answer. I called the New York Inn. They said that you weren't there-"
"I know, I know," Neal said as he cupped the back of her head. "There was a mix up with the reservations, so I had to stay somewhere else. I meant to call you. I'm sorry."
Her eyes were beginning to sting. "I just really needed you here," she whispered.
"I know. I'm sorry." He kissed her cheek. Emma hugged him tighter. Neal's here. We're all together again. Everything's going to be okay. Everything's-
Neal gently pushed her away, taking in the sight of Henry. "How's he doing?" he asked quietly, sitting down on the bed.
"He's okay." said Emma unsteadily, folding her arms tight. She tried to remember everything that had been told to her earlier, but her mind was swimming. "The nurses have been giving him steroids. They said he's responding well so far. The doctor mentioned that he's the right age for treatment." Neal nodded, dazedly. He reached over to stroke Henry's hair.
Henry stirred, blinking a few times. "Dad?" He said, sleepily. Neal smiled and kissed his forehead. "Hey buddy. I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?"
Emma tried to smile as well. But the weight on her chest was still there. And no matter how many times she repeated to herself that things were looking up now, it didn't lessen.
