"I hate you."
"You're not the first person to tell me that."
"I can't do it!"
"Yes you can, Emma. You've gotten higher than this before. Push past that mental block your brain's throwing up."
"I can't," she snapped back. Her arm was trembling with the effort required to hold it in place and sweat was beading along her forehead. But Killian could see the determination burning behind Emma's eyes. She wasn't ready to give up just yet, even if every bone in her body was urging her to do so.
"You can do this, Sweetheart," he told her, as he stuffed his hands under his thighs. It was taking every ounce of restraint he had for Killian to remain in place. He hated seeing Emma struggle so much, especially when she was in pain. But more than that, he hated that this was something she had to do alone. His fiancée had already been through so much, and now, she was being pushed even further.
Luke had pulled Killian aside before Emma's first physical therapy session to warn him not to get involved, or the therapist would have him removed from the hospital during those times. As much as Killian hated watching on from the sidelines while Emma struggled through the agony of pushing her body to its absolute limit, he knew that her therapist was right. If she had any hope of ever regaining the full use of her arm again, then she needed to start working the muscles that had been so badly damaged. He just wished it was something that could be done without Emma suffering added pain and stress.
Killian's eyes flicked over to the clock hanging on the wall and he felt his body sag a little with relief. Luke's hour with Emma was almost up. His fiancée would likely sleep most of the afternoon away, but at least she would be able to rest relatively comfortably.
"One more big push for me, Emma. Come on! Even if it's only a few more millimeters, let's get that arm a little higher."
Emma gritted her teeth in determination and threw every ounce of strength she had at trying to raise her arm. It wobbled a little more before finally dropping back to her side, and she wasn't sure she had the energy to move it from the place it had fallen to.
"Brilliant work, Emma. You did really well considering this is only our second week together," Luke praised. "We'll leave it there for now and I'll see you again in a couple of days, okay? Get some rest."
Emma barely had the energy to mumble her goodbye. Instead, she watched as Killian moved over to her side to shake Luke's hand before he dropped down into the seat next to her bed.
"It's okay, Sweetheart," he soothed, leaning over to brush his fingers softly through her hair. "Get some sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up again."
"I love you," she slurred out, but Emma was asleep before she could hear Killian's response.
"Is it okay to come in," Sinéad asked, as she poked her head around the door.
"Yeah. Emma's asleep."
"I thought she might be. I bought you both some lunch," Sinéad said, making her way around the room to drop a bag onto her son's lap. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before gently setting another bag down on top of the cabinet behind his chair. While Killian was busy tearing into the wrapper on his sandwich, his mother bent over Emma's sleeping form to brush a kiss to the young woman's forehead, and then made her way over to the only empty seat in the room.
For a moment, she watched in silence as her son ate his sandwich. Sinéad had something important she needed to tell him, but she wanted to make sure he had eaten something first, just in case her words ended up costing him his appetite. It was only when he'd finished at least half of his meal that she found the confidence to say what was on her mind.
"I've booked a flight home. It leaves tomorrow afternoon."
Killian stopped eating so abruptly that a few leaves of lettuce fell from his mouth.
"Chew your food," his mother admonished, shaking her head fondly.
"Why?" was all he eventually managed to get out, when he'd finally swallowed down what was in his mouth.
"I've done all I can for you, Sweetheart. And while I wish I could stay with you until Emma was back on her feet again and you were both headed up to Vancouver, I just can't. It's time for me to go home. I've already been here far longer than I had ever intended. Your father misses me and to be quite honest, I miss him too."
Killian had known that this day was coming. He'd been expecting it ever since they'd made the move to Boston to help with Emma's recovery. But he still wasn't ready for it. The hospital wouldn't allow him to spend every night with Emma, and going back to a strange home felt a little less strange when his mother was there waiting for him. Killian wasn't looking forward to going home to an empty house every night for however long it took to get Emma out of that hospital bed.
"I'll come back when you need me again," his mother promised, leaning forward to take one of her son's hands into her own. "And I'll always be just a phone call away if you need to talk. But I can't stay here indefinitely, Sweetheart. There are far too many factors that are working against us to allow that to happen. It's time for me to head back to Ireland."
"I don't know how to do this without you," Killian whispered, his eyes locked on Emma's sleeping form.
"You already have," his mother assured him. "And you're not alone, Killian. Not truly. You have friends only a few hours away. You can call them whenever you need someone to talk to, and I'm certain they'll offer to visit as much as they can, now that you and Emma have settled in."
Killian nodded to show that he'd heard what his mother had said, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to lift his head and meet her eyes. It was stupid, really. He had spent years living away from his mother without being overly-affected by the distance between them before. But this time it felt different. Instead of feeling like he'd set off on some great adventure, Killian felt like he was being abandoned in the middle of the ocean, without land in sight.
"You can do this, Killian. You're strong and you're more than capable of taking care of Emma the way she needs you to right now. So let me go and take care of your father for a bit. He still hasn't figured out the washing machine so he's probably already out of clean clothes by now."
Killian snorted out a laugh as he imagined his father walking into work in rumpled clothes, stained with food - or worse, clothes he'd managed to shrink and die a different color because he'd found the wrong settings on the washing machine.
"I know you're scared, Sweetheart. This is a terrifying situation for all of us. But you've already come through the worst and you've come out so much stronger as a result of it. You'll get through this together too. I know you will," Sinéad stated confidently.
"Thanks, Mam. For everything. I couldn't have done this without you."
"Yes, you could have. But I'm your mother. I'll always be here to help you when I can. Both of you." Sinéad offered Emma's sleeping form a small smile before she turned to give her son another kiss, this time to his left cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Killian. I don't tell you that enough but please know that it's always true."
Killian brought his hand up to dash away his tears and like the wonderful mother she was, Sinéad pretended that she hasn't seen a thing.
"Okay. I need to go and start packing," she declared, pushing herself back to her feet. "Will you message me when Emma's awake so that I can come and say goodbye to her?"
"Of course. Emma would want to see you before you left."
Sinéad gave her son's shoulder a firm squeeze. "Eat and get some rest," she instructed. "I'll see you both a little later." She bent forward to brush her lips lightly to Emma's forehead one more time, and then showed herself out of the room.
It took Killian another forty-two minutes to pick up his sandwich and finish eating, after his mother had left.
Killian was using the bathroom when Emma's new cellphone began to ring on the small table beside her bed. This wasn't unusual. Ruby called at least twice a day, and Mary-Margaret had taken to messaging her every couple of hours too. Hell, even Granny had called once in the time since Emma had left Storybrooke General. But the name that flashed across the screen that evening still made her pause for a few seconds, before she reached for the device to answer the call.
"Hello."
"Hi, Emma. It's uh… it's Belle."
"I know," she said. "Ruby gave me all of the important numbers before I left."
Belle's laugh on the other end of the line was nothing but genuine, and it helped Emma to relax a little. "That's good. It only occurred to me as I hit send that you might not have it yet, and what with everything that's happened, you probably don't want calls from unknown numbers right now."
Emma couldn't say she'd given that idea much thought before, but now that Belle had mentioned it, her friend was absolutely right. She didn't want any more calls from unknown numbers! Emma would even go as far as to say that right then, she couldn't ever see herself answering a call from another unknown number again.
"How are you feeling?" Belle asked, snapping her attention back to their conversation just as Killian made his way out of the small private bathroom attached to her room.
"Better, thanks. I'm pretty sure my physical therapist is Satan in disguise, but my arm doesn't feel as stiff as it did before - so I guess that's something. I just need to get myself out of this bed now," she chuckled, although it sounded a little strained to her ears.
Killian leaned down to brush his lips lightly over her forehead before he took a seat beside her bed and reached for the daily paper. It was a routine they'd gotten used to over the last few days. Emma always liked having him close so instead of leaving the room while she was on the phone, he'd try and find ways to keep himself distracted. At least then he could offer her some form of privacy, even if it was mostly an illusion.
"That's good to hear. We were all so worried about you," Belle said.
Emma found herself swallowing past the lump that had formed in her throat at her friend's words. She'd always thought of herself as being alone in the world, before all of this had happened. And while she certainly wasn't enjoying the process of recovering from multiple gunshot wounds, it had been nice to see just how many people there were in her life who actually cared about whether she lived or died.
"Thank you for the flowers," she croaked out, as Killian reached for her hand. "They were beautiful. And the chocolates too. Although, I'm pretty sure my visitors have eaten more of those than I have."
Belle giggled over the line and Emma felt herself relaxing a little further. "I thought they might. I can uh… I can bring you some more when I come and visit," she suggested.
And suddenly, Emma was tense once again. She could sense that they'd finally gotten to the true reason behind Belle's call, and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it.
"I uh… I have tomorrow off work," Belle said, confirming all of Emma's fears. "I was hoping that you wouldn't mind me coming to visit for a few hours?"
Emma's eyes flicked over to Killian's form but he seemed completely engrossed in whatever article he was reading at that moment. Which meant she had no way of speaking to him about the offer, without making her friend suspicious.
"If you're not up for visitors just yet that's fine," Belle rushed to assure her, but Emma could tell from her tone that Belle's feelings had been hurt a little by her lack of response.
"No. No, it's fine. I just uh, I was just trying to remember my therapy schedule. My memory isn't great at the moment." Emma forced a chuckle in the hopes that it would help Belle to relax, but it sounded terribly fake to her own ears. "I'd love to see you again," she offered instead.
"Really? Well, uh... Regina's offered to pick me up when she finishes work, so we could be with you at around two?"
"That's perfect. I'll um… I'll try and make sure I'm still awake for you," Emma said, because that was a legitimate concern for her to have. The simplest of tasks seemed to exhaust her these days, and the medication she was given left her feeling permanently drowsy. It wasn't a good combination when it came to socializing with her friends.
"If that's too late I can always come on my own in the morning," Belle worried.
"No, it's fine. You're actually more likely to get an unresponsive Emma at eight am than you are at two pm. I'll make an effort to keep myself awake for you guys. It'll be good to see you both again."
"We're looking forward to seeing you too," Belle offered.
There was a moment of tense silence where neither woman really knew what to say before Bella added, "Well, I should um… I'll let you get some sleep. See you tomorrow, Emma."
"Yeah. See you tomorrow," Emma replied, before disconnecting the call.
"Is everything okay?" Killian asked, distractedly. His eyes were still glued to the paper he'd been reading and his thumb was stroking softly over the back of her knuckles. He looked the picture of calm, which happened to be the complete opposite of how Emma felt inside.
"That was uh… that was my friend, Belle. She and Regina want to come and visit me tomorrow afternoon."
"That's sweet of them." Killian finally lifted his head to offer Emma a brilliant smile, but it fell short when he saw the look on his fiancée's face. "Or… maybe not?"
"No. No, it is," she rushed to assure him, because the gesture was definitely sweet from two people she'd only met a handful of times in her life. "It's just uh… they don't know about you."
"That's fine, Emma. I'm under no illusions about my level of fame. I'm not Brad Pitt. I'd imagine there are more people in this world who don't know me than those that do."
"They don't - it's not -"
Killian waited patiently for Emma to find the words she needed to express how she felt at that moment. He knew that the cocktail of medication she was on could sometimes fog her mind, and rushing her would only lead to more frustrations. It was always better to let the words come to her, no matter how long they took. However, when Emma finally spoke, the words she used were not the ones he'd been expecting.
"I met them both at a Fairytales convention."
"Oh."
"They don't know about us."
"Well, uh… that's okay," Killian assured her, as his mind tried to process the implications of what she'd just said. "I can uh… I need to take my mam to the airport anyway, so I'll just make myself scarce while they're here."
"I don't want you to," Emma argued, because she wasn't in any way ashamed of Killian or her connection to him. "I just um… I think I need to tell them about us before they see you. I'm pretty sure they're going to be hurt that I didn't tell them, probably even angry that I've been lying to them about it all. It'll be easier if they don't have it shoved in their face the moment they walk through the door."
"They're not going to be angry with you, Emma." When his fiancée shot him a disbelieving look, Killian amended his statement. "Okay, they might be a little angry at first, but I'm sure they won't hold this against you. And if they do, then they were never your friends to begin with. It's gonna be okay, Sweetheart. I know it will be."
"I wish I was as optimistic as you are."
"Well, maybe I've had to learn that lesson the hard way," Killian told her, as his mind helpfully flashed back to images of the last few months. Hope had been the only thing holding him together back then - even if it hadn't been that strong.
He shook his head to stop himself from dwelling on those thoughts and then lifted Emma's hand to his lips, to brush a soft kiss over her knuckles.
"You should uh… you should come back though. If it all goes well, you should come back and say hello. I don't want them to think I'm gonna hide you from them."
"I will," Killian promised. "You know me, Love. I never go too far."
"Yeah. We should really work on getting you out more," Emma chuckled, but underneath her mirth, Killian could feel the seriousness behind her statement. She was worried that her recovery was holding him back, and that idea could not have been further from the truth.
"When you're out of that bed we'll work on getting out together more often, okay? Until then, I'm more than happy to stay in with you. The only thing I care about is being with you, Emma. I don't give a shit where that happens."
"I love you," she whispered, because a part of Emma was still so stunned that someone like Killian had fallen for someone like her.
"I love you more," he replied firmly, leaning in to offer her a sweet kiss to show just how true that statement was.
Sinéad returned later that evening with bags swinging from each of her arms and a delicious aroma swirling around her.
"I brought dinner," she announced, as the door clicked shut behind her.
"You didn't need to do that," Emma protested, although everyone in the room knew it would make no difference. Between Killian and his mother, she had only eaten three hospital-prepared meals since her eyes had opened. They seemed to feel that her recovery would be helped along if Emma had whatever her heart desired along the way, and that included fulfilling all of her food cravings, no matter how obscure they were.
"It's my last night here," Sinéad argued. "It seems only right that we mark the occasion with a family dinner."
Emma zoned out slightly as Killian began helping his mother unpack the different dishes she'd brought with her, and divide them between the plastic plates they had purchased when Emma had first arrived in Boston.
When Emma felt a gentle nudge at her elbow she turned her attention towards her boyfriend and was met with the familiar sight of his concern.
"Are you okay?" Killian worried.
"Yeah, I'm uh… I've just never had a family dinner before," she said, because it was absolutely true. Dinners with Neal and Gold had never resembled a family meal. In fact, they'd felt more like business meetings than anything else. Whenever she'd eaten with her friends it had always felt like a gathering of close acquaintances, and nothing like she imagined a family dinner to be. Emma supposed the closest she'd gotten was a meal shared with Ruby and Granny, but even then she'd always felt like an outsider looking in. She'd never truly felt like part of a family gathering before - until Killian's mother had started joining them to eat every evening.
"Well, I'm sure we'll make up for that over the coming years," was all Sinéad said, in that casual way she seemed to have perfected over her lifetime. It was the kind of tone that said Mrs. Jones knew this was a big deal for Emma, but she also knew it would make the young woman uncomfortable to push the subject. So instead, she had simply made the offer sound as normal as if she'd been discussing the weather with a perfect stranger.
With that potentially-awkward conversation avoided, Emma turned her attention to the food that Sinéad had brought with her. She had a feeling that Killian had given his mother his credit card once again, because it looked like she'd found the best restaurant in the city. There were appetizers that smelled absolutely heavenly, steaks resting in cardboard boxes, and what appeared to be an icebox for their desserts. It was far too much for a dinner spent bending over a tiny hospital bed, but Emma appreciated the effort that Killian and his mother had gone to.
She also appreciated that Killian was taking the time to cut her food into easily manageable bites without being asked, and without drawing attention to what he was doing. While Emma was slowly regaining the use of her right arm now that it was out of a sling, physical therapy always left it feeling so heavy and awkward - like the limb no longer fully belonged to her body. And she didn't much fancy spending the night embarrassing herself as she tried to force her fingers to grip a knife tight enough to slice the steak that Sinéad had bought for her.
"Are you looking forward to going home?" Emma asked, as she tried to prevent an awkward silence from settling over the three of them. Things with Killian's mother had been surprisingly easy since she'd woken to find the older woman visiting, and Emma didn't want her to leave America with memories of painful silences hanging over their heads. She might have met Killian's mother at the lowest point in her life, but Emma wanted Sinéad to leave with the best impressions of her. She wanted Killian's mother to return home feeling like Emma was a part of their family because deep down, Emma was finally starting to feel like she'd found a place where she belonged.
"I am," Sinéad told her, offering Emma a small smile as she watched Killian set a plate of perfectly cut food down in front of his fiancée. "Don't get me wrong, I've loved getting to know you and getting to see how happy you make my son, but I think I'm ready to go back to my own bed. Assuming that my husband hasn't burned the house down while I've been gone - which is a very real possibility."
"I'm sure he hasn't," Emma reassured her, as she tried to hide her giggles in her plate of steak and mashed potato.
"He'd better not," was all Sinéad said, but it carried the kind of tone that implied there would be hell to pay if he had, and Emma could suddenly understand why Killian was so scared of his mother.
"I'll be here again whenever you need me," Sinéad added, her tone switching back to that sweetness it had always carried whenever she spoke with Emma. It was the kind of dulcet that screamed motherly love. One that couldn't help but make you feel at ease around her. "And I really hope that when you feel up to the journey, you'll come over and visit us. I have hundreds of embarrassing photographs of Killian that I've been dying to share with someone."
Killian groaned into his plate of food but nobody paid him any attention.
"Oh, and I can take you to see all the local sites that have such good memories attached to them. They still have the swing set at the playground where you messed your pants, Dear. Do you remember that one?"
"Mam!" Killian protested, as he pushed his plate away from himself. "We're eating."
"Emma won't mind," she told him, dismissively. "It was such a funny moment. His dad was pushing him on the swings for the first time ever and he got a little carried away. Killian thought Brennan was going to push him so hard that the swing would leave the ground, and apparently, he just couldn't contain himself. Brennan had to carry him home at arm's length, just to stop anything from leaking out of the bottom of his little dungarees."
Killian's face flushed bright red as he stabbed aggressively at his meal, but Sinéad's words had achieved their desired effect on Emma. The young woman was no longer looking self-conscious about how much help she needed with a simple task like eating, and was instead just laughing between bites of her meal.
"I'd also love to show you around a little," Sinéad continued. "Our part of the country hasn't changed much since Killian left, so I can point out all of the spots where his biggest milestones took place, if you'd like to see them?"
"I'd love to," Emma assured her. She wasn't entirely sure when that moment would come. If she was being honest with herself, Emma was struggling to visualize a time where she would be able to view the home Killian had rented for them to share, and not be stuck in a hospital bed all day. But having the chance to visit the place where Killian grew up was an offer she knew she'd never be able to refuse.
"And of course, Brennan and Liam are looking forward to meeting you," Sinéad added. "If my husband wasn't so scared of flying, he'd have come out this time with me. Although, on second thought, perhaps it's a good idea that he didn't. He'd probably have burned Granny's B&B to the ground trying to make popcorn or something stupid like that."
Emma snorted out another laugh as she reached for Killian's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Normally, the thought of meeting her fiancé's family would have terrified her. Meeting Gold as Neal's girlfriend had been bad enough, and she'd known the man for years before they'd started dating. However, Sinéad had been nothing but sweet and kind towards Emma since she'd arrived in Storybrooke, and Emma knew that a woman like Sinéad would never have married anyone who could be cold and cruel towards their son's girlfriend.
Killian raised Emma's hand to his lips to press a brief kiss to her knuckles before he let it go. Emma wasn't yet strong enough to eat with her right hand, and he didn't want her food to go cold. But he did mouth the words I love you in her direction, before he turned his attention back down to his plate of food.
The next morning, Emma tried her hardest to keep herself awake for as long as possible, so that she could spend some time with Killian. Her physical therapy was draining her in a way that she hadn't known possible, and despite her best intentions, she found herself drifting in and out of consciousness as Killian read another recently-acquired romance novel to her.
When she finally seemed to get a grip on reality it was a little past midday, and Killian was still sitting by her side, tapping away at his phone.
"Drink," Emma gasped out, her throat dry and rough from lack of use.
Killian's phone slipped out of his hands to land on the edge of the bed, completely forgotten, as he busied himself with pouring Emma a drink from one of the many bottles he and his mother had stacked into the room. He then helped her into a sitting position, arranging the pillows in the way that he knew Emma preferred, before finally passing her a glass of water to sip at.
"Hey, Sweetheart. How are you feeling?" he asked, smoothing the hair away from her face so that he could press his lips to her temple.
"Sore," Emma croaked out, because that was the main feeling she was experiencing right then. The last few weeks had taught her that it would soon die down, once her next dose of pain medication had been delivered. But she always seemed to wake during that moment where the last dose the machines had administered was wearing off.
Killian offered her a small smile as he settled himself back down into his seat. He'd heard that assessment of Emma's feelings every day since her transfer to Boston, and as long as the pain wasn't getting any worse, he was trying not to worry too much about it.
"It'll pass soon," he promised her, as he continued to run his fingers through her hair, gently teasing apart the tangles that had formed from her sleep. "I have some good news for you. The nurse is gonna stop by in about an hour to give you a sponge bath."
"Isn't that supposed to be your job?" she teased, handing over the half-empty glass before she allowed her body to melt back into the mattress.
Killian chuckled and then leaned forward to reach for her hand. "I did volunteer," he said, in a tone that left his girlfriend with no doubts about the honesty behind his statement. "But they want to let the professionals do it while you're still wearing the frame. I can help you when it comes off."
"I'm holding you to that," she mumbled and her eyes slid shut again as the next dose of pain medication finally hit her system.
"Please feel free to," Killian drawled, his tone dripping with innuendo.
Emma slowly peeled one eye open to get a good look at her fiancé and chuckled lazily as she watched him waggle his brows at her.
"Don't get too excited. It's gonna look a mess when everything comes off."
There was a deafening silence for just a moment and when Emma opened her eyes again, she found Killian's chin propped on the pillow beside her head and a sad smile on his lips.
He waited until her eyes met his before he finally spoke.
"That won't ever bother me, Emma. I don't love you because you're beautiful, I love you because you're you. Everything about you is perfect, as far as I'm concerned. From the tips of your hair all the way down to your toes. Your sense of humor and the way you laugh. Your unwavering belief in others, even when you don't quite believe in yourself. And your loyalty and love towards the people closest to you. Every part of you is beautiful to me, Emma and a few scars won't change that."
He leaned forward to press his lips to hers, sealing his words with a kiss. It was only a soft brush of lips and the occasional flick of his tongue - nothing more had happened since Emma had woken from her coma. She didn't have the energy for more and Killian certainly didn't want her to think that all he cared about was the more sexual side to their relationship. But every time they shared a kiss it was one of the best moments of his life. He could still remember how it felt to worry that he might never get the chance to kiss his girlfriend again, so he'd made a promise to himself to never take another moment with Emma for granted.
It was the sound of an alarm ringing that eventually forced them apart.
"I have to go and pick my mam up," he explained, silencing his phone. "Will you be okay for a couple of hours on your own? I can always arrange for a taxi to collect her if you'd rather I stayed here."
"Don't be silly," Emma protested, even though, deep down, she really didn't want to let him go. Whenever she was awake and alone, she often found her thoughts straying to everything that had been taken from her during the attack, and Emma knew she couldn't afford to lose herself to that darkness. Not if she had any hopes of making a full recovery before the end of the year. "We've been apart before," she pointed out.
"Yeah, and I didn't like it then either."
Emma chuckled a little at the pout forming on his lips as she leaned across the bed to get closer to him. Killian met her halfway and allowed her to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth, before she settled back into a more comfortable position.
"Go and see your mother off. She deserves that after everything she's done for us. I'll be fine here. I have a sponge bath to look forward to and a visit from friends after that."
Emma wasn't really looking forward to either of those things. Sponge baths seemed less fun when it was a cranky old nurse giving them instead of your hot boyfriend, and she was still too worried about how Belle and Regina would take the news of her relationship with Killian, to be excited about their visit. But she knew she needed to face her friends eventually. The longer she put it off, the more people would get hurt and the worse things would become.
Killian looked like he knew exactly what she was thinking (and given how well he knew her, he probably did). "It's gonna be okay," he promised. "When I've dropped Mam off at the airport, I'll come back and sit in the café until you're ready for me. You can call whenever you need me, no matter how things are going. But just… just promise me one thing before I leave?"
He waited until Emma had nodded her head before he continued speaking.
"No matter how it goes today, don't get yourself too worked up. You're recovering from massive amounts of trauma, Emma. I'm not ready for you to relapse on me again. Especially not over something I'm partially responsible for. Try and keep yourself as calm and relaxed as you can for me. Please?"
Emma reached across the bed to take his hand into hers and squeezed it as tightly as she possibly could. "I promise," she whispered into the silence of the room.
It wouldn't be an easy promise to keep, but for the sake of Killian's peace of mind, Emma would do her best to make sure that she did.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.
For those of you who don't know, I'm going through some difficult times personally at the moment both with my health and in my private life, so I'm afraid updates will remain sporadic for the time being because I just don't have the time or energy to dedicate to my fandom life right now. Thanks for your patience.