A/N: This chapter mentions abuse so be warned if that is a topic that bothers you. Thank you for the lovely reviews. They make my day! I'm glad you seem to be enjoying the story. I hope that continues. So here it is, the longer chapter I promised earlier! Hopefully it meets expectations!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

A much steadier beeping than the one in the ambulance woke Emma. The oxygen mask was gone, replaced by a cannula in her nose. She scrunched her nose up because the sensation tickled, but the oxygen made her feel good so she wouldn't fight to have it removed. She was too sleepy to fight about anything anyways, the anesthetic still coursing strongly through her veins.

Her shoulder hurt but Emma expected that to only get worse when the painkillers wore off. Right now it was only a dull ache, radiating down her arm and up her neck. The surgery site was heavily bandaged under her hospital gown. A brief thought about the damage the shells might have caused played across her mind but Emma wasn't ready to ask if there are any.

Somewhere in the room a familiar voice was speaking. Emma searched her mind for the owner. Ruby. She was speaking to someone else who Emma realized was David when his response came.

"Maybe we should call him?" Ruby asked worriedly.

"Already did."

Emma doesn't bother to ask who the he David referred to was. Instead she let the sleep win and fell back into oblivion.

It was Mary Margaret's voice that woke Emma next. She was much less sleepy this time when she pried her eyelids open and looks around. She was in her own private hospital room but there was a spare bed beside her own suggesting that it wasn't originally designed for just one occupant. Graham probably pulled strings so she wouldn't have to share, knowing her desire for privacy. It was amazing what the handsome police chief could get done when he really tried. The walls of the room were a strange green that Emma couldn't help but think was the same green someone turned when they were about to be sick. It wasn't very calming, that was for sure. She was hooked up to an IV and a heart rate monitor but other than that and her friends positioned around the bed the room was fairly empty and nondescript.

"Hey," Emma croaked, her voice raspy from lack of use. Everyone turned to her, rushing closer, relieved smiles pulling at their faces. Mary Margaret positioned herself by Emma's head, David behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. There wasn't a clock hanging in the room and the window blind was drawn so Emma couldn't judge the time. "How long have I been out?"

"A little over a day," Ruby answered, patting her leg. Emma groaned. Seriously?

"You scared us, Em." David's voice was thick with emotion. Mary Margaret turned and kissed him.

"Sorry," Emma replied, tilting her head up when Ruby offered her a glass of water. Emma drank it down greedily, as if she'd not been given liquid for a month. The water immediately made her feel better, more aware of her surroundings.

She pulled herself more upright on the pillows, hissing when the fabric of her hospital gown caught the edge of the gauze and tugged it upwards. Mary Margaret quickly adjusted the fabric then moved from David's embrace to dig through a bag on a nearby chair. Emma sighed in relief as the gauze was returned to its proper position.

Mary Margaret stood up holding a gauzy tank top that buttoned up the front. She moved back to the bedside and held it out for Emma's inspection. It was clearly one of Ruby's shirts. Emma didn't wear sleeveless tops. Not since college. She raised a brow at Mary Margaret, waiting to see why her friend was showing her one of Ruby's old shirts.

"The nurse said that when you woke up we could change you into something that wouldn't push on the surgery site, or get caught in the bandaging."

Emma shook her head. No. She wasn't putting on that. She wasn't exposing her shoulder. She'd rather deal with the pain. Frankly, she'd rather be shot again. "I'm fine," Emma gritted out.

"Emma, no one cares what your shoulder looks like. They aren't going to guess. The doctors didn't ask us about it after the surgery. And if they ask now that you are awake you can make something up. Blame it on a car accident." David's voice was soothing. He tucked a lock of Emma's hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead.

"But I'll be able to see it." Emma's voice came out a little more desperate than she would have wanted. She drew in a steadying breath.

Ruby sat down, careful not to shuffle her. "Maybe it's time you did. Neal's gone Emma. Don't keep giving him the power over your life. Over your own body."

"We all love you," Mary Margaret added. "Please?"

"Make sure you're here the first time the nurse comes back, in case she asks."

"We aren't leaving you, Emma." And that was why Emma agreed to bare the shoulder that was her greatest secret. Because unlike Neal, Mary Margaret, David and Ruby would never leave her. They'd proved that time and time again, taking Emma's insecurities and issues in stride, learning what set her off and remembering. If her friends would stay with her Emma could do it.

Emma nodded. "I'm going to need some help."

"Of course." Mary Margaret turned to look at David. "Why don't you go get us some food, David?"

"Why?" David didn't understand why he couldn't help and sounded almost offended that he wasn't allowed to stay. He'd known Emma for years. He knew that even though she didn't trust most men she trusted him. He had earned her trust.

Ruby muttered something that sounded like men while Mary Margaret motioned vaguely to Emma's chest. Emma shuffled her shoulder, confused, and realized the doctors had taken off her bra during surgery to get to the bullet wound. Emma tried not to blush. She did not want David of all people to see her boobs. They might have been partners but he was like her older brother and Emma's breasts were something that said older brother should never see. "Out Dave. I want hot chocolate," Emma said firmly, nodding her head towards the door.

Realization dawned on David and he turned beet red. With a wave over his shoulder he turned and high tailed it out of the room, mumbling something about going to the restaurant across the street since it was better than the cafeteria. The door rattled shut behind him. Ruby shook her head and Mary Margaret bit back a giggle. Emma just groaned.

Ruby grasped Emma's good shoulder now that David had left and helped her to gently sit up. The pain of the movement was enough to make Emma whimper into Ruby's sleeve. Ruby stilled her movement, bracing Emma until the pain subsided. When it did she adjusted the thick pillows behind her back and let Emma sink back against them, taking a few more off the other bed and placing them behind her to make sure she was fully upright.

Mary Margaret produced a pair of scissors from the bag. "We're going to cut the gown off since I don't want to move your shoulder too much. Okay? Are you ready?"

Emma nodded because she didn't trust her voice. Even when alone and showering she tried to avoid looking at her scarred shoulder. And now it was going to be exposed for the whole world to see. Mary Margaret moved forwards and with Ruby's help cut the gown along the shoulders. Emma eased herself forward, biting her lip to keep back the grunt of pain. The gown fell down around her waist, leaving her exposed. Mary Margaret made quick work of the rest of the gown, slicing it down the middle and pulling it away. Emma leaned back again to rest, shutting her eyes.

"I forgot to ask," Emma began in order to get her mind off the shoulder she would see as soon as she opened her eyes. "How did the surgery go?"

"Discharge in two weeks max, they'll put you in a sling soon to keep your shoulder stabilized. Totally healed in about three months," Mary Margaret reported. "You were lucky that you were so healthy before and that the bullets only did soft tissue damage. They missed your clavicle by about three millimetres."

Ruby slipped her hand into Emma's and gave it a squeeze. "Are you ready?"

Emma squeezed her hand back and nodded. She counted to ten and opened her eyes, trying to focus on the pea soup coloured wall in front of her. Mary Margaret had the shirt unbuttoned already so she slid the strap up Emma's bad arm first because she could manipulate the uninjured side better to stretch into the other strap. Emma held off for as long as she could before glancing at her shoulder.

Three jagged and poorly healed scars crisscrossed the back of her shoulder, coming to a stop near the top, in line with the joint. The largest and deepest one was in the middle where most of the force had come down on her body. The scars were bumpy and puckered, some spots discoloured from where splinters of wood had been left in for the skin to grow over. There had been only so much David could do with a spool of thread, a needle and some butterfly sutures. Emma knew it could have been worse. David could have made her go to the hospital.

Emma tore her gaze away when Mary Margaret took her good hand and bent it a little to slip the shirt on. Mary Margaret adjusted the shirt, moving the strap on Emma's bad shoulder over so it didn't sit directly on the gauze bandage before using her nimble fingers to do up the tiny buttons.

"There," Mary Margaret said stepping back. "That wasn't so bad." Emma knew she was talking about more than just the movement.

"It honestly doesn't look that bad, Emma," Ruby put in. "You need to be close to really see it and the bandage covers some of it." In truth the bandage only covered the edge one but Emma appreciated the gesture nevertheless.

"Did you happen to bring me pants as well?" Emma asked, slightly awkwardly. She really wasn't keen on the idea of sitting around in a public place in her underwear.

Mary Margaret made a quiet sound of realization before digging back into the bag. That canvas satchel was like Mary Poppins's bag. Just what else was shoved into its mysterious depths? She produced a pair of heather grey sweatpants that were also Ruby's. Mary Margaret's clothes would never have fit Emma and they must not have bothered to go to Emma's own house since it was the farthest away. She'd have to get them to run there later and get some more of her things considering she was going to be in the hospital for more than a night.

Getting into the sweatpants was much easier than the shirt. Once fully dressed Ruby pulled some of the pillows out from behind Emma so she could recline. Just the energy expelled at getting dressed had been enough to make her want to sleep for several days. It didn't help that the medication hadn't warn off fully either. Mary Margaret noticed her exhaustion and bent and kissed her temple.

"Sleep, Emma. We can warm your food up later." Emma did as she was told and fell into another anesthetic driven sleep.

"David, mate, I know this probably isn't my business but what happened to Swan's shoulder?" Killian's soft voice woke her next. When had he arrived? How did he know she was in the hospital? Ruby's earlier question came to mind. So this was who she had been talking about. Emma should have guessed as much.

She stayed frozen in her position; eyes squeezed shut, trying to keep her breathing even as she waited for David's reply. She didn't want them to know she was up. Not until she decided what she wanted.

If David was to tell Killian the story behind her scars then Killian would know. He'd know why Emma was so much more guarded than she had been ten years ago. But if Killian did find out then Emma wouldn't have to tell him herself. Because he would eventually find out. Emma knew she couldn't keep it from Killian forever. At least with her eyes closed she wouldn't be able to see his pitying looks.

"It's not my story to tell," David replied, cautious and quiet.

Killian sighed. Emma could picture him running a hand through his hair, further dishevelling it. "Look, I know its Emma's secret and something tells me it has to do with this Neal fellow she mentioned once. But please tell me. I feel like I'm walking on egg shells around her and I'm so scared of hurting her when she's already been through so much." He was scared of hurting her? Why?

It was David's turn to sigh. "Fine. I'll tell you. But you didn't hear it from me. And I'm only telling you because I know you care about Emma. She needs more people in her corner." Emma's palms began to sweat as a chair scrapped across the floor. Someone had pulled one of the wooden chairs closer to the bed and settled in it. Emma wanted to know who was sitting by her but she didn't dare try to peek.

"If you know about Neal then you already know who did it," David started. "Emma met him at the beginning of the second year of college. He was not a nice guy, not that we knew until it was too late. It turns out every time he got mad, got a bad grade or something stressful happened to him he took it out on Emma. The marks on her shoulder are from the last time he hurt her. It was the worst time, the only one she hadn't been able to hide because she needed to call me to stitch it closed. Neal hit her with a folding wooden chair. She told him to get out and then called Mary Margaret and me when she realized how bad the cuts were. I couldn't get her to go to the hospital or file a report against the bastard. She just wanted it to go away. We did what she wanted because she'd already dealt with so much."

"Neal hurt her?" Killian's voice was a deadly volume, practically a hiss.

"Probably more times than she's ever admitted." David's voice was tired, disappointed at himself. But it wasn't David's fault. Emma knew that, had never blamed him, had tried to keep him out of the loop until the very end. But she'd never been able to convince him that. Which was why she didn't talk about the incident in the first place. Because people felt bad for her then got angry at themselves that they hadn't protected her. Emma had protected herself her entire life. She didn't need someone else's help as an adult.

"Now that you know what happened hopefully that will explain any strange behaviour on her part. Don't run from her if it gets too much."

Emma's breath caught in her throat as she waited for the answer. The quick panic at the sound made the heart rate monitor beep strangely for a few heartbeats. She hoped no one had heard the little noise of it.

"I'll never leave, Swan. I can promise you that." Killian's voice was so full of commitment that Emma wanted to cry. She couldn't not believe his words. And that scared her. Because she didn't know if she could be whatever Killian wanted her to be in the long run. She didn't know if she would be good enough for him, to deserve him.

David's phone went off and he excused himself, leaving the room quickly. It was Mary Margaret's ringtone. She must have just finished dance class and wanted an update.

"How much of that did you hear, Swan?" Killian asked when they were alone, bending close to her face so his warm breath brushed across her cheek. Emma tried not to shudder and failed miserably. Killian chuckled quietly at that despite the seriousness of his question.

Emma opened her eyes. There was no point in trying to pretend anymore. "Enough," she replied quietly.

Killian nodded. "Alright. We'll talk about that later. For now, how are you feeling?" Killian had been the one to pull the chair up and lean forward, just inches away from Emma. His blue eyes ran over her, checking for injuries as if he were a doctor brought in to give a second opinion. Killian reached forwards and grasped her hand. Despite her fears Emma let her fingers intertwine with his. The gesture didn't mean anything. She was injured and he was offering comfort. That's what people did.

"Like I was shot?" Emma answered.

A relieved grin spread across Killian's face at her humour. "At least you don't feel like you've been trampled by elephants."

"Ever the optimist, Jones," Emma drawled. "How did you get here?"

"David called me when you got out of surgery and they were given your things. He got my number off your phone. I left as soon as I could and came straight here." Killian drew in a shaky breath. "I was so scared, Swan. I thought you were going to die." Killian leaned down against the mattress, pressing his face against the sheets and muffling his voice. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well you don't have to find out," Emma answered, trying to sound light. Killian moved his head so he could look up at her and gave her a small smile, eyes shining wetly.

"All I could picture was the call I got when Liam died. Even though you were out of surgery you had lost so much blood. That's what killed Liam. He bled to death before they could get him out of the wreckage." Killian's shoulders shook against the mattress. Emma moved her bad arm across her body since Killian held onto her other hand for dear life, biting her cheek against the pain, and set her hand on his head. She rubbed circles in his tousled hair while he cried.

"I'm sorry, Jones. Don't be upset. I'm going to be fine." Emma didn't know how to comfort him. She didn't know what he was looking for. But her heart was breaking and the pain of that was worse than the pain in her arm which was why she was able to keep running her fingers across his scalp.

"I understand why you did it now," Killian said after a while, when he'd calmed down. He didn't move from his position on the mattress though and Emma didn't stop rubbing his forehead. It was as if her hand was moving of its own volition.

"Did what?"

"Stepped in front of the woman instead of hoping it wouldn't be a life-threatening injury and taking the guy down. It was because of Neal right? Because of what he did to you?"

Emma took a deep breath, her chest screaming at the movement then nodded. "She didn't need to face that. What she went through was bad enough already."

"I'd have to say the same to you, Swan. Why didn't you tell me about him earlier?"

"It's not exactly a conversation I enjoy having," Emma answered, her mouth twisting from the sour taste Neal brought to it. The scars on her shoulder still stung when she remembered what he had done. "I just didn't want you to think I was stupid for getting myself into that kind of situation again since you knew about, well you know-"

Killian nodded, his hair rustling against the sheets as he moved. "Just so you know, I don't think any less of you now, love. I'm actually even more amazed now at how strong you are." Emma didn't say anything to that because she didn't have a response that wouldn't be self-depreciating.

"You should be at work," Emma said instead.

Killian smiled gently, acknowledging the subject change. "You're more important," Killian answered squeezing her hand. "I took some time off. My supervisor doesn't care because I brought my laptop with me so I can do my stats work anywhere. Wherever I want. Which is right here." Killian brought her hand gently to his lips and brushed them across her knuckles as if he were a prince asking a princess to dance. "I meant what I said to David, Swan. I'm not leaving you."

Emma shut her eyes and willed herself not to cry again. Why did Killian make her so emotional? She'd worked for years at controlling such a response and here he was threatening to undo it all.

"Sleep, Swan," Killian whispered, sitting up to give her more room on the mattress. Emma's hand fell across her body, his head no longer holding it in place. It was a relief to rest her muscles but Emma hadn't actually minded the pain. She'd liked comforting Killian. "You need your rest."

It was with Killian's hand in hers that once again Emma fell asleep.