Emma sat in the Sherriff's office, hearing the rain pour down on the windows. She was glad no one had called; she did not want to be out in this weather. She had just picked up lunch from Granny's and was enjoying her sandwich when Ruby showed up in a red raincoat, panting like she had just run a marathon. She was smiling, however, and Emma's mind flew immediately to the gutter. She knew that Ruby and August had a thing for each other, and the look on Ruby's face made her wonder if they had finally admitted it. She didn't want to pry, though. She had better things to think about anyway. The play was only 2 weeks away and even though she had memorized her lines, she wanted to be sure she said them with emotion and feeling. She decided to practice at work since there was nothing better to do.

Ruby interrupted her, though. "Emma, someone called about losing their umbrella. Do you want me to go check it out?"

Emma sighed. "No, I can go. What's the address?"

Emma spent an hour trying to track down an umbrella that an elderly woman, Mrs. Pemberly, had left in a park somewhere. She finally found it on the ground near an old oak tree, and just as she bent down to pick it up, lightning struck, hitting the tree. A branch cracked, giving an ominous groaning sound, which Emma heard loud and clear. She started to run, yelling at the woman to run too. She looked up at the branch. The lightning had hit the tree in the dead center, and the branch that was falling looked to be heavy and thick. Emma acted fast. She ran to Mrs. Pemberly, practically picking her up and running with her. She was not fast enough, though.

She shoved Mrs. Pemberly out of harm's way a second before the branch came crashing down on her.

"What happened? What happened to my mom?" Henry was on the verge of tears. He pushed past Dr. Whale and broke into a sob as he saw Emma on a hospital bed, unconscious and hooked up to an IV. Regina was right behind him, feeling tears in her eyes. Damn Miss Swan for being so heroic and stupid. Who was going to be Cesario now? Who was going to help with Henry?

"She has two broken ribs, a broken leg and some cranial damage." Dr. Whale informed them. "She is stable for now, but we need to get the bleeding in the brain under control. If we do that, she will be okay."

"Will she need surgery?" Regina asked.

"Dr. Whale nodded. "We will prep her and do the procedure tomorrow."

"Can I wake her up?" Henry asked, crying openly now.

"I think you should let her rest, Henry." Dr. Whale said, then left them.

Regina stared at the helpless woman in the bed, wondering how the hell she managed to get herself into this fix. She heard the door open and saw an elderly woman step towards the bed.

"Who are you?" Regina almost growled, taking a protective stance in front of Emma's body.

"I'm Mrs. Pemberly. This woman saved my life." The woman started to cry, trying to explain.

Regina listened to the story and rolled her eyes. It would be just like Miss Swan to brave a storm just to help someone. If it were up to Regina she would have told the old woman to buy another umbrella, for God's sake. But no, Miss Swan had to always help out. And she risked her life to save this woman's. Regina had never seen a braver act in her life.

But she could not stand the crying. Henry was crying, the old bat was crying. Such weaklings. She certainly wasn't going to cry. Not over Sherriff Swan. The funny thing was, the thought that rushed to the forefront of her mind was that Emma would not be able to be in the play, and she would have to act with some freckle faced understudy who would mess up the lines and ruin everything. Miss Swan just had to go and get hurt. Even in her unconscious state she had managed to screw everything up. When Henry turned to Regina and buried his face in her stomach, she held him close, realizing just how much he was hurting. She bit her lip, unwarranted tears filling her eyes. She blinked, determined to not let them fall. Miss Swan—Emma—was not dead yet. She would not die; she couldn't. If she did…

The curse would break. Regina would not let that happen. She convinced herself that that was the reason she wanted the Sherriff to get better. It wasn't like she cared about her or anything. But she did care about Henry, and he would probably think it was her fault somehow and never talk to her again. Not that that would be much worse than the way he was treating her now. But the life she had built would all fall to nothing, because of Emma. All of these thoughts rushing in her head was what caused the first tear to fall. Feeling her son hugging her was what made the tears pour.

Emma woke up, horrified to find she had a tube shoved into her olfactory nerve. She gave a gasp and blinked a few times, trying to focus on where she was. What the hell had happened to her? And why did she feel a draft? Oh, she was wearing a paper thin hospital gown. Really, would it kill the nurses to dress the patients in cotton?

Emma was pondering this when she a whole group of people came into focus. She recognized David, Kathryn, Archie, and several other townspeople, including Ruby. They were trying not to crowd her, so they all just looked at her, smiling, telling her they knew she would be okay, which kind of freaked her out. What had happened? She tried to sit up, then saw an elderly woman push to the front of the group.

Her face was familiar, Emma thought.

Oh, this was the woman she saved. The memory of the storm, and of feeling a huge branch fall on her came flooding back. She lied back down on the bed.

Before Mrs. Pemberly could speak, Regina and Henry came into view.

"Emma! Emma, are you okay?"

Emma smiled, pleased to see Henry so happy. "Yeah, kid, I'm good. I hope I don't have to stay here too long."

"Well, I'm so glad you're not dead. Here's a get well card, though I guess you don't really need it now. Mom signed it, too." Henry positively beamed.

"She did?" Emma couldn't dial down her shock.

Regina noticed. "Really, Miss Swan, you insult me. Do you think I want you to die? Who would I have to argue with constantly if you did?"

Regina had a twisted sense of humor, Emma had to admit. But she laughed anyway.

David and Kathryn gave their get well wishes, and by the end of the day, so had everyone in the whole freaking town. At least it seemed that way to Emma. She didn't know what she did to be admired so unconditionally, but…she kind of liked it. She enjoyed being a part of something, and being appreciated. Dr. Whale made her stay another week to ensure full recovery. When she came home Mary Margaret hugged her, making her wince because of the soft spot on her ribs where she was still bruised. The brunette noticed and would not stop apologizing for a whole week.

Soon, the last week of rehearsals approached, and Regina was excited and relieved that Miss Swan would be able to be in the play after all. She did not want to have to relearn the lines and become accustomed to another person filling Cesario's shoes; for the past two months Emma had done well enough. She played a very convincing man, which wasn't that astonishing, if Regina thought about it. Emma already walked like a linebacker, and was tough and tomboyish in her characteristics. It made sense, then, for her to play a woman pretending to be a man.

Regina's character, Olivia, was a little more complex. Olivia was regal, a lady, accustomed to being treated as such. In the story, she was mourning the loss of her brother and father. Regina could relate to her as well—it was interesting how that worked out.

Emma Swan showed up late for rehearsal, probably thinking she could slack off since it was the last practice anyway. But Gayle gave her grief over her tardiness and Regina snickered. It was nice to see Miss Swan be scolded by someone who wasn't her for a change. Not that Regina didn't like getting the Sherriff angry. No, she rather liked it. She liked getting Miss Swan's attention, even if it was negative.

Regina and Emma's scenes were well acted, both of them comfortable with their characters and meshing together. The chemistry was definitely there. Gayle noticed it, all the other actors noticed it. Except for the two people actually acting in the scene—they were too busy criticizing each other.

"You are supposed to stand over there, Miss Swan, then step back when I step closer. Don't you remember?"

"Yes, I do. You are the one screwing up. You're coming too close, and getting in my face!"

"Isn't that the idea?" Regina forgot they had an audience. She was getting tired of this. "You may hate me, Emma, but in this play, my character loves yours. So just forget that you're you, and that I'm me. Make this real, for the people watching." Regina's voice was soft, almost pleading.

Emma's eyes softened as she looked into Regina's, and she returned her gaze. In that moment they both relaxed, even though they were still invading each other's personal space. The moment shattered when Gayle cleared her throat and called out for the end of rehearsal. The atmosphere of tension disappeared and Regina hurried home. She pushed the image of Miss Swan out of her head and made dinner for her and Henry. Their relationship was getting better. The fact that she and Emma could work together probably had something to do with that.

The only down side was that it was confusing. The feelings that had recently been bubbling up in her gut when she thought of Emma or when she thought about kissing her in the play—those were alien emotions, things she never thought she would feel in her life again. She was terrified to call it love, but it felt similar to that four letter word. It scared her so much. She kept telling herself that after the play, she and Miss Swan could go back to hating each other; there was no reason why they would have to be nice to each other. Things would go back to normal; Emma would avoid her like the plague and Henry…well, she wasn't sure what Henry would do. She and Henry had bonded because of everything that had happened in the past two months. She was afraid that if she kept fighting with Miss Swan, that newfound relationship with Henry would be decimated.

There was no way to win this, and Regina hated to lose.

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