Two

Tea and Benadryl had done absolutely nothing for Emma. It had taken her an hour to get to sleep due to so much coughing, and when she finally did wake up, it was with sore muscles and an even more intense cough than she had gone to sleep with. She either had a cold, the flu, or both, and it was absolutely unappealing to her. Shifting uncomfortably in her bed, Emma groaned as she was forced to roll over and look at the time; 6:43am. She may have woken up in time, but there was no way she was going to work today. Regina's attitude be damned; a blanket, some cough drops, and mindless television had never sounded better to her than it did right then.

It took even more effort to sit up, and by the time she was on her feet, Emma felt like she would collapse and never get back up. And then her stupid phone rang, and she was cursing the world as she bent back over to fish the device from beneath her pillow. Her body caved, and she sat back down so she could answer the phone and not have to split focus between speaking and staying up right. "Hello?" she said into the phone. It barely sounded like her voice. That explained the long pause on the other end, before a confused, "Miss Swan?" followed.

"Regina," Emma replied with a weak cough. "It's seven in the morning. What do you want?" The blonde was absolutely not in the mood for the third degree, or any other kind of typical Mayor Mills treatment, for that matter. She just wanted to lie on the couch and go back to sleep.

"I was going to ask you to meet me for coffee again, but considering you sound like you've been hit with a fresh wave of the plague, perhaps we should do it another time," Regina practically drawled on the other end of the phone. Emma couldn't tell if she sounded more disgusted or more annoyed. Like Emma chose to be sick like this when Regina just happened to need her for some stupid spy game she was pulling on their kid.

"I can come," Emma said after a few moments of thought. "Just…just give me a while. I want to get in the shower first. I'll meet you at your office."

"You'll do no such thing," Regina replied sharply. "I won't have you infecting everything you touch in my office." There was a pause, and then, "I'll be at your apartment in twenty minutes. At least that way I have the option to change clothes and disinfect before going to work." There was no room for argument – Regina hung up the phone. Sighing, Emma tossed the phone down and rubbed her eyes; Mary Margaret was still asleep, and Emma really did not want to wake her with Regina in the house. Maybe she could get Regina to stay in the hallway.

First thing was first, however, and Emma crawled from the bed and into her bathroom. The shower was heavenly, and did wonders for her nose. Her muscles loosened up a little bit, and she could walk better after she got out. She really didn't put a lot of effort into her appearance, however; yoga pants and a tank top were the choice of the day, and she didn't even bother trying to dry her hair. Regina would be there soon, and as long as Emma's hair was, it would take at least ten minutes to get it completely dry. Sick or not, she would just let the air take care of it for her. Heading to the kitchen as quietly as she could, she didn't even realize it was still a school day until she rounded the corner and saw Mary Margaret standing at the counter with a newspaper and a cup of coffee.

"Emma," the shorter brunette woman greeted with a kind smile. Said smile immediately turned into a frown when she saw the state the blonde was in. "You look terrible…"

Emma forced a half smile. "Yeah," she agreed, not amused in the least to find her voice still unnaturally hoarse. "I'll be fine. Just an extra day of sleep or something to get rid of this cough." She hadn't coughed since she had been in bed, thankfully, so hopefully that meant progress. She took the cup of coffee that Mary Margaret offered her and stayed on the other side of the counter, smiling tiredly when the woman waved goodbye and left for work. Emma glanced at the time; Regina was five minutes late. That in itself was unusual.

It wasn't until Emma had stretched out on the couch with a blanket, some tea, and the remote that a sharp knock came at the door. Sighing, Emma closed her eyes; she knew she shouldn't have lay down yet. Getting back up was painful and drained the last of her energy, and by the time she got the door opened, Regina looked impatient and a little annoyed. And a little frazzled, if Emma were honest. "Nice of you to finally show up," Emma said weakly, none of her usual punch in her words. Regina looked her over slowly, lip curled in complete disapproval and disgust.

"I suppose I shouldn't expect you at the station this week," was the only response Regina had for her before brushing by her and into the apartment. Like she owned the place or something. Annoyed, Emma pushed the door shut and returned to her place on the couch, picking up her tea and not offering Regina anything to drink.

"What do you want, Regina?"

"You spoke to Henry, I'm assuming," Regina said, placing her briefcase down on the counter in the kitchen and laying her coat neatly next to it. Emma only nodded, despite Regina not being able to see her. It didn't matter; Regina continued as she reentered the living area, heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "He locked himself in his room as soon as he came home, and I could barely get him out for school this morning. This is only getting worse."

And this was where Emma saw a dilemma in her path. She could shrug it off and pretend like she hadn't gotten anything out of Henry, like the kid was just going through a phase, or she could let on a bit of what he really thought. She didn't particularly like Regina all that much, even though she understood her; and she was trying to keep in Henry's good graces. She owed him that much. But Regina was his mother, whether Emma or Henry liked it or not. And despite everything, Emma could see how hard Regina tried, only to get it thrown completely back in her face.

"He thinks you're hiding something from him," Emma said finally. "He doesn't know what, but he's upset. He doesn't like not knowing." The wince that passed Regina's features confirmed it for Emma, and her eyes narrowed as best as they could in her condition. "Are you hiding something from him?"

"Don't be stupid," Regina snapped, her mask sliding back into place effortlessly. "What could I have to hide?" She didn't let Emma answer. "He's just too young to be thinking like this already…"

For a brief moment, Emma actually felt sorry for Regina. But then she reminded herself that the woman in front of her was a class expert at manipulation, and this whole thing could have been a game right from the very start. She liked to think that Regina wouldn't include Henry in any of her manipulative bull crap, but at this point, Emma didn't know what to believe. She was going to have to start keeping tabs on Regina once she started feeling a little better.

"You look terrible."

Blinking out of her thoughts, Emma's head turned just slightly to look at Regina. Her features had softened slightly, but not enough to actually bring down that stoic mask, and she had crossed her arms over herself. Maybe the chill throughout Emma's body wasn't just the fever talking, after all. But the fact that Regina had just acknowledged her illness in the exact same way that Mary Margaret had struck a nerve, and she shifted a little before looking away.

"I'm fine," she muttered, almost defiantly. She would be better within a couple of days. She would make sure of it.

There was a long silence before Regina spoke again, and the bite had returned to her undertone. "I do hope you haven't gotten my son sick," she said shortly. "He's prone to germs, and it takes very little time for his health to decline." Emma rolled her eyes, then closed them as she lifted a hand to rub at her temple. She couldn't even dignify that with a response. Her head was starting to pound, and the sound of Regina's voice was making her far more irritable than usual.

"Is there a specific reason you're here," Emma asked, hand dropping so she could level Regina with as flat of a look as she could muster (which wasn't all that difficult, considering her condition), "or did you just come here to poke at me about my health? Because I really don't feel like listening to it." She would rather be curled up on the couch asleep; exactly what she was going to do when Regina finally got the hell out. But it really didn't appear that Regina intended on leaving her alone any time soon, so Emma braced herself for a morning of little rest and much headache.

"I don't want you at work today," Regina said, avoiding the jab completely. "And I don't want to see you at my office until you get over this plague. I have some paperwork for you that you can work on here. I need it in a few days."

That wasn't why she was here, Emma knew, but she would take it. She wasn't up for anything more dramatic than that. "I'll start it after my nap," Emma muttered. "Leave it on the coffee table."

Regina did just that, opening her briefcase on the counter and extracting a handful of papers that she set down on the coffee table in front of Emma. Straightening, the brunette turned towards Emma, her features only softening slightly as she gave her a once over. "Get some rest." Emma half smiled in response. They were both oblivious to the brief moment of camaraderie that hung between them. Finally, Regina turned, picking up her things and leaving the apartment. Emma was asleep shortly after.

xxxx

The expectation of sleep helping her feel a little less dead was completely thrown out the window when Emma woke up feeling a lot worse than she had through this entire bought of illness. Mary Margaret was home, which meant it was getting late, and the blonde knew she had to get up and start the paperwork Regina had left her. But she could barely move. Her limbs felt like heavy tree trunks, and there was so much pressure in her head that she was almost positive she was having an aneurism. The strangest, and most uncomfortable, was the thrumming in her veins. It felt like electricity slowly flowing through her, starting at the top of her chest and moving down through her entire body. Shifting felt like she had run ten miles. She just barely managed the soft groan the escaped her.

Mary Margaret, who sat in the chair next to the couch, shifting forward in her seat. Her expression was painted with worry; she had never seen Emma look so pasty before. Her friend looked like she was ready to be on her deathbed, and the pixie haired woman wished that was an exaggeration. "Emma," Mary Margaret said softly. "Emma, I've called Dr. Whale. He's on his way over."

Panic shot through Emma's system. "No," she whispered. "No doctor.."

"Emma, you're very sick," Mary Margaret insisted, though her tone was still soft. "You need something to help you get better." She wished she had known what to do without calling Whale, but honestly, she had never dealt with something this severe before. Sure, the kids at the school got sick all the time; but never anything deathly. A cold here and there, maybe the flu, or some strep throat. Emma looked like she had some kind of disease spreading through her.

Emma's panic didn't reside in the fact that she had no medical insurance. It was mainly her subconscious reminding her of the last reason she was in a hospital; the probing to make sure she really had gotten raped, the needles to hydrate her again, the endless, vicious cycle of questions…She couldn't do that. Not with Whale, especially.

But the knock came at the door, and Emma just lay there, resigning herself to her own fate. Until the voice she heard from a distance was definitely not Whale's, and when she opened her eyes, she was looking at Mr. Gold.