As part of the case they were mounting against Ian, Rossi had suggested that Emily go to the hospital and have her injuries examined and her bruises photographed. (It had taken some convincing, considering how deeply secretive she was and how reluctant to be seen as a victim, but knowing that it would help Derek had eventually broken through her stubbornness.)

The nurse knocked on the door, poked her head into the exam room. "How are you today, Dear?" she asked with a warm smile.

"Been better," Emily admitted. She shrugged, crinkling the paper gown she was wearing. She exhaled shakily, hoping her nervousness wasn't quite as apparent as it felt, not wanting to convey to the stranger the tremulous emotional state she was in, afraid of airing all her dirty laundry...not, she supposed, that she really had any secrets anymore. At least, not once this case went public.

The nurse offered her a warm smile. "My name is Fran – I'll be doing the exam," she introduced herself. "I know this can be an uncomfortable procedure, but you're safe here. If at any time you need a moment to yourself, please just let me know."

Emily nodded, but the words did nothing to ease her anxiety.

Fran was photographing the ligature marks around her wrists and chattering away in an effort to distract Emily, which she appreciated as she was really in no mood to discuss anything or even make polite small talk. Her hands were gentle, even tender, on Emily's fragile bruises - a touch she wasn't used to of late.

"Years ago, I used to work on the burn unit," Fran told her. "We don't have many serious burn incidents in Storybrooke, of course, mostly just the occasional teenager playing with matches. But there was one case I'll never forget..."

Emily perked up at that and, before she knew she was going to speak, she asked, "You treated Derek Morgan?"

"Are you a friend of Derek?" Fran asked, moving from idle chatter to genuine curiosity, interest piqued.

She shrugged, not entirely sure how to classify their relationship. "I guess you could call us that," she conceded. "Why?"

"Because of the serious natures of his injuries, he comes in for yearly appointments to assess the skin, get physical and occupational therapy, and to get botox treatments for spasticity. But two days ago, he failed to show up, which is very unlike him. He's not a big fan of hospitals, but he's never missed an appointment before..." She shook her head slowly, almost sadly. "I tried calling him, but he didn't answer and when I stopped by his house yesterday, he wasn't there. I'm starting to get worried..."

Emily felt her stomach plunge. "I, umm, I may know why he didn't attend his appointment," she stammered, suddenly wracked by guilt. Logically, she knew it wasn't her fault, but that had never stopped her over-developed guilt complex from acting up before...

Setting down the camera, Fran asked, "What's wrong, Dear?"

She heaved a heavy sigh, chewed her lip for a moment, debating the best way to break the news. "Derek, he's... He's..." She winced, blurted out, "He's in jail."

"Jail?" Fran repeated skeptically. "Oh, there must be some mistake... Derek, he's a little curmudgeonly, but he's got a good heart. He would never do something that would warrant being arrested."

"Believe me, I know," Emily insisted. "And it is a mistake. Actually, it's... Well, it's my fault he was arrested..." She felt tears well in her eyes, in spite of herself.

"Oh, honey, I'm sure that's not true..." Fran attempted to reassure her, even though she barely knew the woman.

"It is, though. He was only trying to help me and this is the thanks he gets." She let out a shaky breath. "But I promise you, I'm doing my best to get his name cleared and I won't stop until I do," she vowed. "Which, I guess, is part of why I'm here."

Fran nodded, offered a smile. "You're very brave."

A thought occurred to Emily then. "If you want to see him, the Sheriff legally cannot deny him necessary medical care," she suggested. "I could take you to him."

"That's an excellent idea. But first, we should get you down to X-ray – I suspect you may have a few broken ribs."

She was about to protest that broken ribs weren't anything she couldn't handle, before remembering this was for Derek...

"Hello?" Emily called out, stepping cautiously into the Sheriff's station, rather hoping not to come face-to-face with her soon to be ex-husband. "Is anyone here?"

There was no answer.

"Derek?" she asked the quiet emptiness. "Derek, it's me..."

She and Fran stepped fully into the station then, coming to a stutter stop as they found the jail empty, the door to Derek's cell hanging open.

"I'm guessing the Sheriff didn't suddenly have a change of heart?" Fran asked quietly.

"The Sheriff doesn't have a heart," Emily muttered, just loud enough for Fran to hear. "Fuck," she hissed then. "This is bad..."

"Where could he have gone?" Fran asked.

"I don't know...but if the Sheriff finds him, it isn't going to end well." She dialled JJ, unsure what she thought her friend could do, but needing to talk to her anyway.

"Em, oh, thank God!" JJ said by way of answering the call.

Emily's brows knit in confusion and concern. "Is everything okay?"

"No!" she nearly shouted into the phone. "Ian was just in here – he said Derek had escaped... He whipped everyone into a righteous frenzy, they're on their way to search for him." She let out a trembling breath that sounded a lot like a frightened sob. "Em, if they find him, I think they're going to lynch him..."