Time is going to slow down in the story and semantics is going to be very important.

Chapter 15

Hospital for Special Surgery
New York City, NY
Monday Mid-Morning

Robin was aware of pain unlike any he had ever experienced. His head hurt, and his chest and his legs, one of which felt like someone had shot him with an arrow and pulled it through the other side. He could hear voices as they talked about the best way to move him out of the car, and once they started jostling him, the pain quickly became so severe it pulled him under.

When he came to, he could hear the whirring of the air flying past and ascertained they must be in a helicopter on their way to a hospital. He tried to remember where they had been on the Turnpike when the accident occurred, but with his limited knowledge of the area he couldn't do much more than make an educated guess. Remembering the screams from Killian and Emma, his thoughts went to whether they had already been transported to the hospital. Unable to gather the strength to open his eyes and turn his thoughts into words, he focused his injuries. When the chopper bounced on an air pocket, the pain once again spiked and he was pulled back into oblivion.

Later, when he managed to surface again, he knew he was in a hospital as he could hear the announcements over the intercom system and then he felt a chill as someone unwrapped the warm blankets covering his body. When he started to shiver uncontrollably he thought he groaned but couldn't be sure, as there was a tugging sensation on the legs of his jeans. "Get me those scissors so I can get these jeans off," was barked by someone as the tugging on his pants continued. After only hearing a few cuts, the table was bumped and the darkness claimed him once more.

When he woke again, the sounds around him caused him to think they were in the x-ray department. He hadn't thought it possible, but it was even colder and the table he was lying on was harder than the previous one. While he still couldn't manage to find the strength to get his eyes to open, he could hear the whirring of a machine as he was gently pushed closer to it. As his body shivered violently, the words, "Get him another blanket," were like music to his ears and when the blessed warmth drifted down over him, landing on his leg with a jolt, once again he knew no more.

His next ascent into awareness came as he was being wheeled to a third, or was it a fourth place. A voice commented, "He's clear for surgery," and then someone else answered, "They're waiting in OR 4," and he was pushed through a set of doors. His head was hurting from all the clanging of metal hitting metal, as if someone were picking tools up and setting them down none too gently, as well as the shuffling sound of several sets of feet scurrying around the room. Yet again, he was moved from his warm table to another not-so-warm one, and the pain threatened to pull him under again, but this time he used his remaining strength to fight off the journey to the wasteland.

He was so cold, and his body was trembling so hard that he was surprised he wasn't jumping off the table. Here I am, he thought, lying on a table harder than the floor in a room colder than an icebox and being turned into a popsicle. A snicker threatened to escape as he wondered if the ever prim and proper Regina Mills would be willing to thaw certain parts, but before he could delve too far into that way of thinking, he felt a prick and heard someone say, "You will start to feel drowsy. We'll be right here." And this time he let himself float, as the darkness that called to him was not of the same type as before. This time, he was being pulled gently into sleep. Just as the sounds around him were fading to nothing, he heard, "Doctor, we got his phone working. His name is Robin Locksley and his wife Regina is on her way."

Harvard Campus
Boston, Massachusetts
Monday, Early Afternoon

Hanging up the phone, Regina spun her chair a full 360 degrees and had to bite her tongue to keep from shouting with happiness. She had gotten the position with Nemo's Innovative Designs, an architectural and engineering firm, which she had been coveting since last fall. The company's reputation was stellar and rapidly growing throughout the East Coast with its unique approach to construction. The possibility of being a part of its expansion across the continent was exciting, possibly leading into career-defining moments; a new challenge for her professionally and something completely different from being an adjunct professor for a semester. The fear that Robin wouldn't feel that their connection was strong enough to continue once they left Boston served to create a sliver of caution inside of her. And while she knew of his plans to move to New York City, she hadn't mentioned that she would be moving back there also, afraid that he might think she was pushing too much too fast. After their nights together and constantly communicating since, she thought he would be happy, but didn't want to presume anything. Only time would tell.

Wanting to share her news with him, she picked up her phone to give him a call and realized she hadn't heard from him since early morning. The fact that they had not gone more than a few minutes without texting since their dinner date, and yet it had been hours since she'd heard anything, was very unusual and gave her a feeling that something was off. Checking the time of his last call, she noted that he had tried to call her about 9:30 that morning when she was attending her last faculty meeting and when she hadn't answered, he had left her a sweet message.

Regina, it's Robin. Riding with these two lovebirds makes me miss you even more. When I return, I'd like to take you away for a few days. You – me – sand – bikinis? Call me when you can.

Later, once her meeting was over, she had tried to call him back, and it had gone straight to his voice mail. Yet another situation that just didn't feel right to her. Now here it was early afternoon and she had heard nothing for hours.

Robin had been a welcome distraction, addition, surprise – so many words to describe what his coming into her life meant to her, yet none of the words felt adequate. Unable to just sit still, she swiveled her chair around to stare out the window and let her mind sort through the events of the past semester and how a chance meeting had turned into a courtship for them, whether they anticipated it or not. And now she could admit that she was completely smitten with Robin Locksley and had been for much longer than she was willing to admit. Since the first day when she had walked into the lecture hall ready to take on a class which she assumed would be full of mid-20 something cocky engineering students, and instead a lone man, closer to her age than the rest of the group, had given her an endearing grin, and just like that, all her bravado had gone out the window.

His sandy hair, eyes that always held a mischievous glint, dimples like craters and sexy British accent had captured her attention and it hadn't taken much before she knew she was in deep trouble. After finally breaking free from her mother's domineering ways, she had wanted to take this time away from both her mother and New York, to focus on herself and her decisions. She was tired of living her life to please her mother and always being concerned about what others thought. Yet with the encouragement of her 'just trying to help friends,' Elsa and Emma, she had put herself out there, exposing her vulnerabilities to a man she wanted but couldn't have right away. They had danced around each other for months, yet as the semester wore on, she felt more and more that he was a spider who had been slowly but surely weaving a web around her until she had been so tightly caught that there was no escape, and most importantly, she had no desire to escape.

When he had mentioned an exhibit that was being held at a local museum, she had declined attending with him, but the invitation had morphed into a date of sorts anyway, all thanks to her friend, Elsa. Not realizing that Elsa and Robin were good friends, Regina had agreed to attend the event with Elsa, who had invited Robin along. They had spent the afternoon strolling from exhibit to exhibit together, as if it had been planned that way. As they walked, Robin had regaled them with his many stories of growing up in England as an only child of older parents, of his mother's death and his father's subsequent move to the states. As he spoke, Regina found herself sharing bits and pieces of her life, and the more he opened his mouth and that smooth as butter British accent caressed the words, the more smitten with him she had become. He had started his spell weaving the moment their eyes met across that crowded classroom and now, months later, he was still pulling her closer than she could ever remember being to a man before. What surprised her was that she was allowing it, even reveling in it.

The second time it happened, she had been lecturing about symmetry and nature and using the surroundings that a building is set in to encourage flow and balance between what is natural and what is man-made. After his success at the museum, he had gotten a bit bolder, and this time he had stayed after class to ask her to take a drive along the northeastern shoreline, ostensibly so he could show her some of the places that he felt her lesson had completely described. She had smiled at him but before she could say anything further, they had been interrupted by one of the other professors and the moment had been lost. And then a few weeks later, Elsa and Emma had taken her to The Burren and she had watched him up on stage singing, and his last song of the night had been sung just for her. As he sang the words to Waiting for a Girl Like You by Foreigner, with each word he was telling her how long he had been looking for her and how she made him feel alive, and that night she knew they were inevitable, and that she had been waiting for him, too. When she had hurried from the bar, she wasn't running from her feelings but from the timing of her feelings. When he caught her at the train station and their lips met for the first time, she hadn't regretted it for a moment. When she finally gave him what they both wanted and told him they had two weeks of class before anything could happen, it was as if the foreplay had started right then, because since then their feelings had only grown.

Unable to sit still any longer she pushed up from the chair and walked back and forth in front of the desk. She couldn't believe it had only been three days since he had taken his exam and no longer was considered her student, as it felt like she had known him forever, not just a few months. When they had gone to dinner, it hadn't been a date between strangers spending time together for the first time, but one of friends who had been moving toward each other forever. And after dinner, when he had invited her back to his apartment, she knew they were going to end up between the sheets and it was going to be a life changing experience, before she even said yes. And she hadn't been wrong, either. Her life had changed, and she hoped it was only the beginning.

When he had cupped her face and…. Her phone vibrated in her hand and a quick glance told her it was the man she had been waiting on. "Robin?" she said nervously.

"No, I'm sorry," she heard a stranger say, "my name is Chip Pots. I'm calling from Robin's phone"

Regina frowned, and her concern went to full fledge panic as she heard an intercom in the background paging a doctor to ER. Her heart jumped in her throat and so by the time she answered, her voice shook with fear. "Yes, Robin Locksley. What are you doing with Robin's phone? Is he alright?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm looking for Mr. Locksley's next of kin. Are you his wife?"

Without even considering any repercussions, Regina blurted, "Yes, he's my husband. Tell me what's happening." She felt like she was going to hyperventilate at any moment, her breathing so fast.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Locksley," the concerned voice said, "but your husband has been in a serious traffic accident and is currently in surgery. Can you come to the hospital immediately?"

"Ugh," she fell back against her desk. "When? Where? What about our friends?" Her hands were shaking so hard that she was surprised she hadn't dropped her phone.

"I'm sorry but I have no knowledge of anyone else in the car, but maybe the police can help you with that. Right now, your husband needs you."

He went on to tell her which hospital Robin was in and, as she had already submitted her last grade, she turned off her computer, grabbed her bag and checked the airlines for the next available flight. With little time to think, she stopped by her apartment, packed and was out the door on her way to the airport before she realized she hadn't told Elsa or Anna about the wreck. Time for that later, she decided

as her thoughts turned back to the man she had grown to love.

University Hospital
Newark, New Jersey
Monday, Early Afternoon

Emma fought through the pain using every bit of the strength she had gained growing up as a lost girl in a world where her only family included other misfits. Combined with the knowledge and strength she had gained from loving Killian, she fought hard to stay awake. She knew she had lost some time while still trapped in the car but once she became conscious of being moved, she thought she had managed to stay awake as she rode to the hospital and they wheeled her into the emergency room. Her thoughts hadn't been of herself and her own injuries, but of Killian and his. Several times, she had tried to open her mouth to ask but her tongue had felt swollen, almost disconnected, and refused to cooperate, and she couldn't seem to move her mouth. Her ears worked fine, though, so as she lay on the gurney, first in the ambulance and then in the emergency room, she listened for clues. It seemed to be her best option.

Bright lights, quick moving, fast paced individuals and cold attacked her senses as she lay on the stretcher watching the nurse gently move a piece of gauze back and forth across her face. Seeing the cloth come away smeared with blood made her heart race and the pain she was feeling and had been fighting threatened to overtake her. The nurse must have seen the fear in her eyes because, finally, she explained that she was in the process of removing all the tiny shards of glass from her face and that was where the blood was from. She went on to let Emma know what would happen next, which would be x-rays, and assured her that there would be something for her pain soon. As she said that another nurse came into view and a new bag was attached to the IV pole, already littered with several bags of various sizes. As the pain medication seeped into her system, the stress of the day finally overwhelmed her and, letting herself float, she slept.

When she woke, the first thing she noticed was the steady beep of her heart rate accompanied by a clicking sound, which she figured was her IV machine. But while both were noticeable, there was also a slightly muted quality to the noises. Her own breath seemed excessively loud, almost as if she were swimming underwater. She could hear a constant barrage of information being emitted, as is the case in any hospital, yet the way she was hearing it seemed more of a background noise that came from far away, and outside of her room.

The smell of antiseptic hung in the air, clung to her hair and surrounded the bedding around her. The metallic taste in her mouth told her that the soft tissues inside had been cut, possibly multiple times, as they came into contact with sharper objects, most likely her teeth. When she tried to run her tongue along her teeth around the sides, she met resistance, however, when she reached the center, there was no resistance at all. How many teeth have I lost?

The medication that continued to drip into her system held the pain at bay, but for how long? That she wasn't feeling pain should have been a good thing, but when she focused on her body she realized she wasn't feeling much of anything. Deciding to take it one body part at a time, she focused on her right arm and attempted to reach forward with it, yet came up short, as it was heavy, enclosed in a plaster cast and held in place with a sling. Her hands became the next part of her focus, and wanting to use her fingers to tacitly explore, she couldn't as both hands were wrapped in gauze mittens. The question was why, but with no one to ask, she moved to her face. She lifted her left hand and extended it hesitantly toward her head, somehow knowing that what she was going to feel was not what she wanted to feel. When her hand was brought up short by what certainly didn't feel like her skin, but rather more bandages she could only ask herself…why?

Sitting in the darkened room, her face and hands covered in bandages, and her vision impaired, she felt lost again. The covering around her head so tight and thick that her only view was a small window immediately in front of her. Not only because of her gloomy surroundings, but also because of the restricted movement from the bandages, she felt the helplessness begin to well up inside and she was almost powerless to stop it. The closest analogy she could come up with was that she felt almost as if she was in a box that kept getting smaller and smaller, causing her heart to race and her breathing to become shallower. She tried to peek around the edges to see what was waiting for her, who was waiting for her, but there wasn't anything to see. Nothing…no one. Unable to hold them back any longer, the tears finally filled her eyes and the sense of vulnerability that had been tapping at the edges of her consciousness all day threatened to consume her, until approaching footsteps caught her attention.

Nemo's Innovative Designs
New York City, NY
Monday, Early Afternoon

Liam leaned back in his chair and stared out at the Manhattan skyline, thinking about his conversation with Killian the prior day. He hoped that his little brother listened and learned from his experience as, unless another opportunity presented itself, it was the best he could do. Sighing because it had to be like this, he took a drink of his lukewarm coffee, looking up just as Nemo walked into the room. "Off to a meeting?"

"No, just a charity function." Nemo leaned against the door frame. "We also need to discuss our trip to Boston for Killian's graduation and his wedding to Emma."

Liam grunted and made a face, "Must we?"

"Liam," Nemo quietly spoke, "your brother is a grown man. It is not your job to live his life for him, but for you to support him."

"I'm just trying to protect him. Isn't that what families do?"

"We protect those that aren't able to protect themselves, Liam," he stopped to clear his throat. "I'm afraid if you continue to push him, Killian will walk away. Is that what you want?"

"You know it's not what I want." Liam looked up with tortured eyes and put his hand over his heart, rubbing back and forth. "It's as if she pulled out my heart and crushed it. It hurts so damn bad." His voice trailed off and, unable to meet the dark mesmerizing eyes of the man who meant so much to him any longer, he lowered his gaze.

Nemo walked over and laid his hand on Liam's shoulder. "I know it hurts, son. This is when we come together as a family, and perhaps if we meet her halfway, Emma will save all of us just like she seems to have saved your brother. Your parents," he stopped to gather his thoughts, but then changed directions in the conversation, "What is it you have against Emma exactly, Liam?"

Liam sighed, "She's just like Lily. She will use Killian and then hurt him." Talking about Lily still angered him to the point where both hands were balled into fists and there was a noticeable tic in his jaw from gritting his teeth.

"But how can you say that, Liam, when you've never met the girl?" Nemo moved to lean back against the desk, giving the impression he had all the time in the world.

"She grew up in an orphanage, just like Lily. What does she know about love and saving someone?"

Liam's voice remained bitter, but he felt that he owed it to Nemo to stay and listen to what was being said, as he would have done had he been listening to his own father. "Are you saying people who grow up as orphans don't know how to love, son? You remember that both your father and I grew up on our own, don't you?"

Liam didn't respond immediately but looked up at Nemo as he realized the trap that he had walked right into and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm sorry, that came out all wrong. I meant," but he couldn't continue because he wasn't really sure what he had meant. His father had loved his mother and quite obviously loved his boys. Nemo had once loved and lost, and, so far, he had never found another woman to live up to the memory of his wife. The man cared for him and Killian as if they were his sons. "Maybe I need to do some rethinking on things."

Nemo stood and patted him on the back. "I think that's a good idea. Don't ignore the pain, Liam, as that helps make you the man you are supposed to become, but trust your brother. If he says one look and he knew Emma was the one for him, just as, may I remind you, your father did, then perhaps you are not giving him credit to know his own mind." He waited until Liam had looked up and acknowledged what he had said, before continuing, "Now I am off," before walking out the door.

Liam watched him go, and while the rational side of his brain admitted the truth behind his statements, the emotional part of his brain didn't want to have to sort through all the pain in order to come out on the other side. The bitterness had been his shield for years now and he wasn't sure if he could let it go. Since he was at a point of self-reflection anyway, he opened his memories to take them out and examine them when his phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. Locating it on his desk took so long he was afraid he would miss the call, but when he found it and didn't recognize the number, he almost let it go to voice mail. On the last ring, he couldn't stand it any longer and grabbed the phone, pushing the button. "This is Liam Jones; can I help you?" What he heard on the other end caused his blood to chill and he was grabbing his keys and out the door before the person had finished talking.

University Hospital
Newark, New Jersey
Monday, Mid-Afternoon

Since that machine had zapped him back into his body, the way Killian was feeling could only be explained with extreme descriptions. His head felt as if a million snare drums were beating out a cadence and his chest felt like a 500- pound man was sitting on it, making his breathing painful and shallow. His shoulder felt as if it had almost been pulled out of the socket and his knee had been stomped on by someone dancing the mamba. He knew he wasn't dead because he hurt too bloody much.

Squinting through the pain, he looked around the brightly lit room trying to find someone that could give him information about Emma and Robin. He needed to know where they were and how they were. He finally caught the eye of a lass who was walking around the room with a clipboard, periodically flipping through pages and, he hoped, checking through names. As she came closer, Killian tried to breathe through the pain.

"Good afternoon, sir." She flipped a page on her clipboard. "I'm Aurora and am in the process of gathering information on all the crash victims. Your name?"

Taking a quick breath, Killian groaned. "Jones," he finally pushed out. "Killian Jones."

She looked through the pages on her board until apparently finding what he assumed was something about him. "Two other passengers in a black Subaru?"

His pulse sped up with hope that he might truly find out some more information. "Yes, any news on my fiancé and friend?"

She looked down, frowned, and then back up. "Let me go check," she muttered before taking off to talk to an officer standing across the room.

Killian kept his eye on her trying to decipher what kind of information she was receiving, but he was unable to tell based on her body language if the information was good or bad. After she nodded her head several more times, she finally turned and came over to his stretcher. "I found out your friend Robin was taken to the Hospital for Special Surgery in New York City, as that is the best place for orthopedics. The young woman was brought to this hospital and taken to surgery but that's all the information I have."

Telling her a quiet thank you, Killian turned away from the bright lights and closed his eyes. He wished he were standing and healthy because he really needed to yell and kick something. Emma was supposed to be his wife, and after a small celebration with Robin they should have been able to return to their room for a much more private celebration. A tear, something he shouldn't be shedding on his wedding day, trickled from the corner of his eye, running down his cheek and getting caught in his scruff. Fate had been kind to him when he met Emma, yet fate had kept them apart for several months before their paths had crossed again. "Please," he prayed silently, "keep watch over Emma." Something told him help was going to be needed and soon.

Hospital for Special Surgery
New York City, NY
Monday, late Afternoon

Having arrived in New York City, Regina didn't take the time to call her mother but just took a cab straight to the hospital. She knew that, at the very least, it would earn her a look that told her how very much she had yet again disappointed her mother, but found that she didn't care. She had learned a lot about herself during the past five months she spent in Boston, and right now she had someone that needed her. Robin needed her and getting to him as quickly as possible was her goal.

When she walked into the Hospital for Special Surgery, Regina felt a brief moment of guilt for the pretense, but if it got her into see him quicker, she would do it again. He was important to her and he needed to know that. "I'm Regina Mills…Locksley," she told the person at the desk using her no-nonsense voice, "looking for Chip Pots."

Thankfully, no questions had been asked, and as soon as Chip arrived he quickly took her to Robin's room. As he pushed open the door and she was able to get her first look of Robin lying so still in the bed, she had covered her mouth to quiet the sob threatening to escape and the tears that sprang to her eyes. "Oh, Robin," she whispered rushing to his side, but unsure where to stand and what she could touch. "There's just so much," she looked back at Chip who had followed her into the room, "How…" she swallowed and tried again, "how is he, really?"

Chip walked closer and took her hand. "He's stable." He gave her a sympathetic smile. "I know it looks bad but he's young and you're here. Doctor Johns will be able to give you more specific details, but both of his legs are broken and his collarbone is bruised. I suggest staying on the left side, up by his shoulder."

Regina looked at the metal hardware surrounding Robin's left leg, and then at the big bulky cast that encompassed his right leg from his groin to the floor. She wondered how was he supposed to get around and how much time would it take for him to heal. "Oh Robin," she murmured, again laying her hand on his forehead.

Chip quickly checked Robin's vitals and looked over his IV bags, making sure they were flowing smoothly. "He should be fine, Mrs. Locksley," he grinned at her. "Might just need a little extra tender loving care for a few months."

Regina smiled at the nurse before glancing back down at Robin. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything further."

He left the room and she was alone with Robin for the first time in a day, but this time she was masquerading as his wife and he was in the hospital fighting for his life. Not wanting to jostle him too much, she put her bag in the small closet and pulled a chair close to his left side, but before she sat down, she leaned over and very gently kissed him on the lips. They were warm and soft, and even knowing it was an unrealistic dream, she had hoped that when her lips met his, he would kiss her back, but not this time. Inhaling softly, she brushed the hair off his forehead and sat down close to the side of the bed. Taking his hand between hers, she used it to cup her cheek and waited for him to open his eyes.

Robin knew before he even opened his eyes that Regina was sitting next to his bed. Not only could he sense her presence, but he could also smell her; that spicy, mysterious scent that was uniquely her and called to him whenever she was near.

He heard her whisper his name and wanted so badly to open his eyes, to see her smile that smile he imagined she saved just for him - the one that told him she was thinking of him and knew that he, too, was thinking of her. Her broken whispers and the gentle way she had brushed back his hair had tugged at his heartstrings and he wanted nothing more than to drown in her dark eyes.

When she had leaned in and kissed his lips it had been both heaven and his own personal hell, for he hadn't been able to reciprocate. His body's movements not under his control and being given kisses that he couldn't return hardly seemed fair.

As Regina sat next to him, murmuring nonsensical things softly, the memory of someone saying, 'Regina, his wife is on her way,' flashed through his mind. He didn't think he had forgotten having a wife, but just as soon as he got enough strength to open his eyes, there were a lot of questions that he would ask.

University Hospital
Newark, New Jersey
Monday, Late Afternoon
Emma's Room

Even though it was difficult, Emma looked up, then had to look up some more, to see the face of the person who had just walked into her room. His great height caused fear to blossom in her heart until he opened his mouth and the gentleness of his voice calmed her. "Good evening, Emma. I'm Anton, your physician's assistant and am sure you have many questions, am I right?"

Of course, you're right you big idiot, thought Emma as she lay there unable to say anything and barely able to make a sound. And with one hand wrapped and the other in a sling, writing or using her fingers to communicate was also difficult. And even though she was screaming internally, she merely nodded her head.

He smiled down at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and moved a chair close to the head of her bed. "Let's see if I can answer some of the questions you have, okay?"

She watched him as he made himself comfortable and, as he leaned toward her, she noticed for the first time he was holding several items.

He held up a whiteboard and a large black marker. "Are you right-handed?" Emma indicated she was before he continued, "Your right arm has a clean break, just below your elbow, so you will be doing things with your left hand for a while. Writing on one of these things." He put the marker in her hand and held the whiteboard up in front of her. She had difficulty holding the marker, as her hand was wrapped with gauze and she couldn't bend her hand very easily. Holding it out toward him, she silently asked him, why?

Anton tapped on the back of her hand. "You want to know why this hand is wrapped? There were multiple cuts along the back of it, including between your fingers. They shouldn't take too much time to heal but until then it's as if you have a baseball mitt. Here, try it."

It took a few misses before she figured out that to get the marker to appear as she had to push the end against the board and then turn the marker back around to write. Once she started, it truly was like writing with a mitten on her hand, and while her letters were not precise, nor were they small, they were legible. When she had finished and moved her hand away, she had written only one word, "Killian?"

Anton told her that he was aware there were others in the car but that he didn't know any specifics, however, he promised to see what he could find out. Since her options at the moment were limited, she wrote, "Face?"

He heaved a sigh, as if he weren't comfortable with the information he was about to impart. "It's a lot to take in, Emma," he told her kindly. "Are you sure you're ready?" When she nodded her head once, he started talking.

Emma knew that the damage done to her face during the accident was extensive but until Anton started giving her all the details, she hadn't been aware of just how extensive. As she listened to him list her injuries the fear that she had felt since waking up in the hospital alone threatened to consume her. What was in store for her, as well as anyone else in her life, and how was she going to be able to handle it kept reverberating around inside her head. And the more he spoke, the louder the noise became making it harder to listen to what he had to say.

"The good news is that even with the multiple breaks on and around your face, your eyes and your nose are fine." He took the whiteboard from her and drew a rudimentary picture of the bones of her face, "You have two relatively simple breaks in your jawbone," he pointed on each side of her face just behind her back teeth, "and your cheekbones." He pointed at the area just below the corners of each eye. "Your jaw has been wired together and will stay that way for 6-8 weeks. Once healing has taken place you will need plastic surgery to replace your cheekbones and have new teeth implanted."

Realizing she had been right about her teeth, but not sure of the extent of the damage, she lifted her wrapped hand and touched the tip of it to the front of her mouth.

Anton once again seemed to read her mind and pointed at the picture he had drawn on the whiteboard. "You lost four upper teeth and two lower ones, and as long as your jaw is wired shut you will be getting all of your nutritional needs through a straw. The good news is you won't have to worry about having a feeding tube, and as soon as your face is healed, implants are quick and easy."

Emma thought about what he had said regarding her broken jaw, lost teeth and broken cheekbones but that didn't help her understand why her head was encased in bandages like a freaking mummy. Touching both cheeks, then her chin and head she held her palm up as if to as ask why?

"Glass," he said simply. "Your face was covered in glass and once removed small open wounds were left behind. The bandages shouldn't be on long, but while the wounds are open, this will help prevent infection."

She tilted her head at him, took the board and marked a large "$" on it.

He nodded his head. "Several surgeries that could very well take two to three months and that is with no complications. You have insurance?"

Shrugging, Emma wrote on the board, "Some."

Anton gently patted her on her good shoulder. "Things will work out, Emma. They always do." He stood up and made sure the bedside table, cup of water and whiteboard and marker were close to her. "I'm going to go see if I can get any information for you about your friends. Push this button if you need anything." He tied the call button loosely to the railing on her bed and just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.

After he left, Emma's emotions were in turmoil. To say she was scared was an understatement, but there was so much more that she wasn't sure where to start. Her life had taught her that there was only one person who never let you down, and that was yourself. As long as you depended on yourself, no matter what the questions were, you would always find the answers. But life was not perfect and sometimes bad things happened to good people, and when the question 'why' was asked, no sufficient answers were given.

From the moment that her eyes had locked with Killian's and their connection had been forged, their relationship had become the most important thing in her life as well as the very best thing that had ever happened to her. Their relationship was built on mutual respect and equality, with neither of them bringing more to it than the other. In their own ways, they had both been damaged, yet together they made each other better. Together they were two parts of a whole, and for a short while, life had been perfect.

But this was real life, not some fantasy where her happy ending was just dropped into her lap and easily given. This was real life and to get that happy ending, it had to be earned, and so it seemed that she had more work to do to earn hers. Surgeries, rehabilitation on her hand and arm and, while she knew looks weren't important, hers might never be the same. How could she put Killian through whatever hell was waiting for her? Was he willing to wait for her bandages to came off and her surgeries to be complete before he moved on to the next phase in his life?

Killian's Hospital Room

Killian lay in his bed in a room somewhere in bloody University Hospital in bloody Newark, New Jersey alone! How was that for karma? He had thought to change his future by running in a direction no one expected and what happened? It wasn't Liam who had been the one to hurt Emma at all. No, that responsibility fell directly in his lap and there was no getting around it. The last, albeit fleeting, vision of her had been just after the crash and she had been so still and there had been so much blood. How would she ever forgive him? And if something happened to her, how would he ever forgive himself?

He wondered if they would let him go find her but after looking at the hardware attached to his body, he thought not. With his left side practically useless and a marching band still clamoring for attention in his head, he doubted they would let him get very far for a few days. He was aware that he was feeling sorry for himself, and with no one to answer any of his questions, he finally gave in and let the pain medication take hold and pull him into slumber.

Liam strode into the hospital and made his way to Killian's room, fear taking up permanent residence in his veins that the last conversation with his brother might be one of hate and anger. No matter what Killian thought, he did love his brother and wanted what, and who, was best for him, but his experience with Lily had taken his rose-colored glasses about love and tarnished them so dark that he wasn't sure they could ever be cleaned. He was willing to admit, though, that after listening and finally hearing what Nemo had said, he needed to step back and try to look at things from a different angle. Nemo, of course, was right, about the fact that both Lily and his father had started their lives as orphans, yet both took decidedly different paths. Lily grew up alone and selfish and used people for her own gains, while always looking for greener pastures. His father, on the other hand, had loved his mother almost to the point of obsession, and loved his boys, of that there was no denying. Was it possible that the path Emma Swan was following was more like his father's and not that of his ex-wife?

When he pushed open the door to Killian's room, he was taken aback by the stillness of his brother in the bed. He had his left arm in a sling, his left knee in a brace and small cuts were scattered all over his face, the red standing out starkly against his pale complexion. Liam moved closer to the bed and laid his hand gently on Killian's good shoulder. "Brother?" Liam whispered quietly, the fear that Killian wouldn't open his eyes rising up inside and competing with fear that he would, but not welcome his presence by his side.

When Killian turned his head in his direction and opened his eyes, not with hate but with love, Liam sighed in relief. Once Killian's eyes had cleared and he realized who was standing next to his bed, it was as though his whole body relaxed and he gazed at him with an expression that was almost gratitude. "Liam, what are you doing here?"

"Where else would I be, Killian? You're hurt. Why are you this far away from Boston, anyway?"

Through a series of stops and starts, Killian explained where they had been going and what had happened. When he was finished there were tears running down his face and Liam could see that his brother was truly enamored with his Emma, just as he had been with Lily.

With some difficulty, Killian reached and grabbed his arm. "Liam, I need you to do something for me." The fear he was feeling was evident by the tightness of his grip and the anxiety in his voice.

"Anything, brother, you know that."

Once Killian heard that, he relaxed back against the pillows. "Find Emma. She's here somewhere and all alone. Find her and make sure she gets the best care possible. Will you do that for me?"

Maybe this would be his opportunity to meet Killian's woman and make sure her intentions were honorable. "Aye, Killian. I'll take care of your Emma."

So do we have a change of heart for Liam? What will he think of Emma? Stay tuned to find out next in Chapter 16 which will be posted next Wednesday. Drop me a line with your thoughts. Thanks for reading.