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Emily felt Nigel place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He moved from behind her and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. She could feel as her eyes began to burn again, but she was quick to blink the sensation away. "If you wish to go stretch your legs, you may." Her voice cracked with the strain of her words.

There was a moment of silence where Emily could only hear the beeping of the machines that were connected to her boss by wires and tubes. She had never hated a sound more. A strange sensation of unease made her legs grow weak. Her body swayed her towards one of the chairs near Miranda's side. Emily could feel her lungs expanding with stale hospital air, but she still felt as if there wasn't enough of it. Her heart beat against her chest with such power that she feared her body wouldn't be strong enough to contain it. Her hands hadn't stopped shaking since she had gotten to the hospital.

"I'll bring you back some coffee." Nigel let his hand fall from the woman's shoulder and he dragged his relenting body out of the room.

Two Hours Earlier

The entire Runway floor was quiet and filled with an air of content. Everything planned that day had gone without a single mishap. All models had been present for the photo shoot, all the clothing had been tailored to perfection, the weather was clear, and most importantly Miranda had been given the chance to just focus on the shoot. Emily prided herself on that fact. She had worked for weeks leading up to the shoot to make sure that everything had been dealt with. There was nothing that would get to Miranda if Emily had the power to fix it herself. As the first assistant, it was Emily's duty to make Miranda's life easier.

It was a rather easy life to live. She was in the industry that she loved, respected, and worshiped. Even at her age, she knew more about the fashion industry that most of the people working at Runway. That was why she had been given the prestigious job of being Miranda's First Assistant. She was reliable, relentless, and loyal.

The added confidence and reason to live had been a small gift that Emily had been given during her time at Runway. Two gifts that Miranda had unknowingly given her.

Maybe that had been one of the many reasons she had hated Andrea Sachs during her time at the magazine. The way that Miranda had looked at the woman, treated her so…

That was it, wasn't it? Emily didn't know how Miranda had treated Andrea. It was something private and only known between the two women. All Emily knew was that she wanted that. She wanted Miranda to look at her with pride, respect, or even acknowledge her achievements. That changed when Fashion Week had come near and Emily had been hit by that taxi. For weeks she had been devastated at her lost opportunity. Her jealousy and hurt fueled an unjustifiable hatred for Andrea. The same woman who had rushed to her side and made sure that she had been okay while at the hospital. The same woman who gave Emily all her clothing from Fashion Week.

Since then the two women had become close. They chatted almost every night while Emily waited for the book. On a few occasions, they had both had enough time and energy to grab some drinks. It was a lot nicer to hang out with Andrea when there wasn't this sort of competition between them (a competition that had only been in Emily's head). They were friends and Emily was very happy with that outcome.

Now she sat behind her desk. A salad untouched at her elbow as she flipped through the latest issue of Scarlet Magazine.

Then from down the hallway, she heard feet running up towards her. She bit her tongue for a second to try and keep her annoyance at bay. Just because Miranda was gone did not mean that they would start acting like some sort of barbarians. They were Runway employees after all.

She stood quickly when she saw Nigel turn the corner. His face had lost all color and his eyes were bright with fear.

"Miranda was in an accident. It's serious." Those words were the only thing that Emily needed before she was running to Miranda's office. In the woman's desk was a little black book filled with personal contacts. This was only meant to be used in cases of emergency. Emily had wished she never would have needed it.

From the office, she called out to Nigel who was pacing in front of her desk. "I need you to get to her. I will arrange for the girls and their father to be there as soon as they can." Her voice was strong and collected, yet her entire body felt like an autumn leaf about the fall from its tree. "I will join you as soon as I am able." Once she'd gotten the Book, she rushed out of Miranda's office and began making phone calls. Nigel was still standing there looking at her, a lost look in his eyes. Emily put her phone down for a moment. She turned to look at the man and her vision went blurry with tears. Her entire body seized up in fear for only a second before she threw herself at Nigel. The man's strong arms wrapped around her body and she felt anchored to the world. He was trembling just as badly as she was. "Go…" she whispered.

He gave her one last hug before he turned and ran out of the building.

Emily took a deep breath and calmly went back to her desk. She couldn't feel her fingers as she began to dial a number. She pressed the phone to her ear and the ring was deafening.

Finally, the person who she was calling picked up the phone. The man's voice on the other end of the line was deep and confused. "Miranda? Is everything okay?"

Emily swallowed the lump in her throat before she spoke. "I am sorry to disturb you, Mr. Wayland, but Miranda was in a serious car accident."

Neither one of them said anything for an entire minute.

Then Emily could hear movement.

"I will go and get the girls. Tell me where she is and I'll be there as soon as possible. Thank you for calling me, Emily." The line went dead after that.

Present

Miranda could only watch as Emily began to cry. Her shoulders had fallen and her hands came up to cover her face.

"Out of everyone, I hurt her the most. She out of everyone has the most reason to hate me. " Miranda whispered. Her throat was tight and the ugly feeling of teetering on the edge of life and death had not gone away. The woman turned around to look out the window. The rain had stopped, but the clouds were a deep grey. "This is more of a reason for me to die." Guilt shattered her entire soul, all the pain that she was seeing was not pushing her to live. It was pushing her to let go and relive everyone from the burden that she had become. There was no reason for her to open her eyes if everything would go back to normal.

"It doesn't have to go back to the way things were." Her mother whispered back.

Was it really her mother? The woman before her held herself differently. Her eyes were bright with something other than anger, disappointment, and fear. She was soft, graceful, and otherworldly.

Miranda spoke before she had thought of what her words were. "You're clearly not my mother." She stated it as a fact. Behind her, she could hear Emily's quiet sobs. "What are you?"

The woman next to her took a moment to ponder the question. Her expression was serene, the passiveness in her face did nothing to hide the light of surprise at Miranda's observation. No one had ever been able to make such a conclusion. It was surprising, to say the least. "What makes you think I am not your mother?"

"You're kind."

Those words hung in the air like a thick fog. The soft tone of Miranda's voice showcased years of abuse. It was almost too hard to look at the woman.

"I am Death." The woman whispered. Without a single sound, she walked across the room. Death watched as Emily's body shuddered with her cries. Her dark red hair falling to create a curtain around her face. "This girl sees you as something more than the Ice Queen. She sees you as a mentor, hero, an example that she wishes to follow." Death observed. When she reached Emily she let her hand over her head. Something soft began to glow at Death's fingertips. "Maybe if she spoke-"

Miranda turn away from the window with rage in her eyes. The sight of her limp broken body did not settle the tornado in her heart. "You will not touch her."

Death looked up at her confusedly. "Why would I hurt her? She isn't the one dying."

Between them, Emily went to wipe her tears. Her eyes fell on Miranda's limp hand and for a moment there was the question if she would reach out and take it. She swallowed back the sob that threatened to wrack her body and straightened her back. Her fingers went to lace through Miranda's.

"You silly girl." The voice that wretched itself out of Miranda sounded strangled and in pain.

Emily took a deep breath before she began to speak. "Miranda, I know that you see me as nothing more than an assistant. As a matter of fact, you might even see me as just another lackey. Another girl that you'll get rid of sooner or later."

The pain in just the girl's voice had Miranda wrapping her arms around herself. She feared that is she didn't hold herself together then she would break apart. "That's not true. Emily I-" Before she could say anything else Emily began to speak again.

"You may not know this but when I had applied to be your assistant my world was falling apart. I moved from London to follow my dream of fashion. I wanted to create art, be the one that was able to create something that made everyone else feel beautiful. Ironic to think of when I saw myself as the ugliest person at the time." Her voice came out as a whisper.

Miranda remembered that day vividly. Emily was a tornado of passion, knowledge, and pain. Lashing out to anyone who dared to question her place beside Miranda. She became a good assistant. One that Miranda didn't deserve.

Emily felt her as old monsters began to surface in her mind. She could feel it in the way that all the warmth in her body began to ebb away. "You gave me a purpose to keep going. " An ugly laugh came tumbling out of her mouth. Familiar insincerities began to dance around in her head and her grip on Miranda's hand tightened. "You unknowingly gave me the power to chase my dream. All my family turned their back on me. They wanted me to stay home, but I couldn't do that. I would have wasted away if I stayed in London. Finding you showed me what it meant to be strong. You never backed down from a challenge, your vision and your talent were inspiring. Nothing hurts you."

The room when quiet for a moment. The only thing that could be heard was the beeping of the medical machines.

Guilt manifested in a sharp pain that pierced through Miranda's heart.

Death stood behind Emily with a mournful look in her eyes. The pity shining there making something disgusting form at the back of Miranda's throat. "You're making her say all this." She accused. Her voice sounded small and scared in her ear.

"Miranda, you're my hero," Emily whispered. "Please wake up. So many people still need you." The broken sob that tore itself through Emily had her crying all over again.

Two Years Ago

"Emily."

"Yes, Miranda?"

"It's been two years since you've become my assistant."

"Two years next week, yes."

"Where will you go?"

The question caught Emily off guard. Her head was still trying to wrap itself around Miranda's words.

"I am very content here Miranda."

"Very well. Starting next week you'll become my first assistant."

There was a moment of silence.

Emily's entire world was engulfed in fireworks while Miranda was calmly flipping through fabric swatches.

The older woman felt a small flower of pride blossom in her chest, but no one needed to know that. If she were to confess anything, it would be that Emily deserved better than first assistant. She still had more to learn, however, and Miranda was going to see to that.

"That's all."

"Yes, Miranda." Emily swayed on her feet and the pounding in her ears was a good distraction from the surge of emotions. The world spun around her and she realized that she needed to stop standing in the middle of Miranda's office. So she turned on her heels and walked out of the office. Then something pushed her to stop, to break one of the golden rules. "I won't let you down."

Miranda's heart lurched painfully in her chest for a moment, her eyes glued to a patch of velvet.

She realized that the feeling was hope.

Emily at this point had reached her desk. Her smile was blinding.

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