Chapter 8: Insurance Plans
On the day of her scheduled chemo treatment number 3A, Emma sat in an exam room in the hematology clinic bouncing her leg up and down nervously, her stomach twisting in tighter and tighter knots. Today was the day. Belle had already been in to check on her, so anytime now Dr. Eldridge would step through the door to deliver the verdict. Anytime now she would find out the results of her scans. Frankly, she was terrified.
She was so trapped in her own thoughts, she nearly jumped when the door finally did swing open. She swallowed thickly as her oncologist entered the room, her chart tucked under his arm.
As he often did, he held out his hand to shake hers, "How are you today?"
"Okay," the word almost got stuck in Emma's throat, her heart hammering even more rapidly now, her stomach doing uncomfortable flips.
Dr. Eldridge must have sensed her nerves, or maybe he just expected them, because he said, "I'm sure you're anxious to hear the results from your interim scans, so I won't delay that any longer." He pulled the stool over and sat across from her, "The PET scan showed no signs of active disease."
Emma's heart was hammering so loudly in her ears that she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly. Did he say that there wasn't any signs of active disease? She couldn't have gotten lucky like that could she have? Despite all her desperate hoping, a large part of her had just assumed that she would wind up on the worst branch of the flow chart, the one with the worst chance of attaining remission and of staying in it. It was strange to realize that for once her luck wasn't as awful as it could be.
"The CT scan was generally good as well," Dr. Eldridge continued, "All of your previously enlarged lymph nodes have shrunk...but…"
And there it was the but. Emma knew better than to have expected her luck to be perfect.
"...the mass in your chest is still 2.5 cm. So we can't say you've had a complete response to treatment but we can certainly say that you've had a good response."
Emma's heart sank. She balled her hands into fists in her lap to keep them from shaking. She wanted to be happy about the no evidence of active disease PET scan. That was good news, great news even, but even though she thought that that was what she ought to be focusing on, all she could really think about was what these CT scan results meant. "So…" she swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat, "we need to add more treatment?"
She had all of one second to hope that he would disagree with the radiation oncologist before he was nodding his confirmation.
"Yes," he nodded seriously, "I know you spoke with Dr. West a few weeks ago about the options in this case. Have you thought much about whether you would prefer to increase to 6 cycles of chemo or add radiation?"
Emma trembled. Feeling suddenly unconfident in her ability to speak, she just shook her head no. Not only hadn't she made a decision but she also had no clue how she was going to make one. She still couldn't really believe that they expected her and her lack of medical degree to make such an important decision.
Dr. Eldridge nodded his understanding. "We don't need to decide right this second," he said, "So, how about I go ahead and set you up another appointment with Dr. West and you can discuss the options again with her?"
Emma swallowed thickly, nodding her head.
xxxxxx
From her post behind the hat table, Regina watched Emma enter the chemo suite. She wouldn't admit this to anyone - she could barely admit it to herself - but she was anxious to find out what Emma's scans results had been.
Emma glanced over at Regina, giving a half wave, but her eyes turned away quickly. Her face seemed paler than usual, her eyes blank, and Regina couldn't help but think that it didn't seem like a good sign.
Regina looked over at Barbara, who seemed to be unabashedly watching her watch Emma. "I need to take a break. I'll be back in twenty minutes." This was her mayor voice - she wasn't asking permission she was telling.
Barbara just nodded knowingly, "Of course, take your time."
Regina waited until Emma was done at the registration counter and then approached. "Hello," she said carefully.
"Hey," Emma replied, her face still blank.
"Let's go have lunch," Regina said. She used a tone that was much gentler than her mayor voice but her words were still much closer to a command than a suggestion.
If Emma was surprised by the tone she didn't show it, just nodded her agreement.
xxxxxx
Regina waited until they were alone in the elevator, descending to the basement, to say anything. All she wanted - in a desperate way that frustrated her because she hated feeling desperate about anything - was to know what the results had been but, instead, what she said was, "You don't have to tell me what your oncologist said if you don't want to but I am here if you want to talk about it."
Emma looked over at her, the blank expression flickering away for a moment to reveal vulnerability. She gnawed her lip and slipped her blank mask back on before she said, "It was good news."
"It was?" Regina asked, unable to contain the surprise in her voice. Emma's demeanor didn't exactly scream 'good news'.
Green eyes flickered vulnerability again and Emma opened her mouth to speak but the elevator door dinged open and her mouth snapped shut, the same guarded expression reclaiming her features.
xxxxxx
Regina didn't try again until they were seated in a table in the furthest corner of the cafeteria with their lunches in front of them - salad for Regina and soup for Emma, which Regina had paid for before Emma had even approached the cash register.
She watched Emma stir her spoon in her soup, around and around and around, and asked carefully, "So it was good news?"
Emma looked up from where she'd been staring intently at her soup. "Yes," she swallowed, bobbing her head up and down rapidly as if that was necessary to make her answer clear. "The PET scan showed no signs of active disease...and that's good news...really good news. I have to be happy about it. I am happy about it. Of course...that's the part to focus on. The part I am focusing on. No complaints...so what if the CT scan showed that my nodes are still bigger than 2 cm? I just need a little more treatment. Just a bit extra. It's just like...an insurance plan. Insurance to make sure I don't relapse later. No big deal. I'm happy about the PET scan, obviously. That's what matters…"
Regina's eyebrows arched, creeping slowly towards her hairline as Emma rambled and rambled and rambled on and on, barely pausing to breath. It was clear that Emma was trying hard to be convincing - although the person she was trying to convince seemed to be more herself than Regina. Finally Regina couldn't take the increasingly desperate tinge of Emma's voice any longer and she reached forward, placing a hand gently on Emma's forearm. "Hey," she said softly.
Emma startled, as if she'd forgotten Regina was there. She swallowed thickly, wide green eyes focusing on Regina's brown ones.
"You're allowed to be upset about this, you know," Regina spoke gently but with a firmness to her words that would leave little doubt that she believed exactly what she was saying, "Finding out you will need more treatment is upsetting."
"But…" Emma protested and Regina could feel trembling under the hand that was still resting on Emma's forearm. "But it could be worse," Emma finished quietly.
"Yes," Regina agreed, squeezing Emma's forearm gently, as she added, "It could almost always be worse but that doesn't mean you have to be happy about things that aren't great."
Emma trembled harder, her eyes hopeful and vulnerable and sad all at once. "I…" she started but couldn't seem to figure out what to say.
"No one would expect you to be thrilled about this news, Emma," Regina said firmly, rubbing Emma's arm now.
Emma gnawed her lip, watching Regina with careful eyes. After a full minute of silence, she exhaled loudly, as if the action might be able to expel the weight from her chest, admitting so quietly that Regina had to strain to hear her, "I wanted so badly for four months of chemo to be enough."
Regina was still rubbing Emma's arm but at her words she stilled the motion, choosing instead to squeeze her forearm gently again. Her heart ached for Emma. She could only begin to imagine how she felt right now. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely, "I wanted that for you too."
Emma sighed again but this time it was an almost dismissive noise and, sure enough, when she spoke again the vulnerability was gone from her voice, replaced with her typical unaffected tone, although the strain required to use it was evident, "We should really eat and get back upstairs before they send out a search party after us."
Regina nodded, allowing the dismissal of the topic without protest - who was she to force Emma to talk about something she clearly no longer wanted to talk about? She squeezed Emma's forearm gently one last time before she withdrew her hand, picking up her fork, and stabbing at a piece of lettuce in her salad, wishing there was something more she could do.
xxxxxx
The following Tuesday Emma was back at the cancer centre, sitting across from Dr. West. She was still feeling oddly sluggish from the previous week's chemo treatment, the side effects seeming to linger longer than usual, and her leg bounced up and down in a steady pattern as she waited for the radiation oncologist to speak.
"I like the look," Dr. West motioned to the top of her own head, presumably to signal that the look she was referring to was Emma's bald head without a wig or hat covering it.
"Thanks?" It sounded more like a question than Emma really intended, mostly because the doctor's words had surprised her.
Dr. West shrugged one shoulder and then pulled loose sheets of paper out of Emma's chart, "Here, I printed something for you."
Emma reached for the loose sheets of paper, staring at the top page uncertainly. It was easy to guess that it was a still image from her scan but as for what exactly she was looking at, she had no clue. It looked like something a kindergartner might have drawn, mostly a bunch of strange black and white blobs.
Sensing her confusion, Dr. West reached across the space between them and pointed in succession at places on the paper. "These are your lungs, and this is your heart, and this," she tapped extra hard on a blob about half the size of her heart located just above it, "this is the mass in your chest. Or at least that was the mass in your chest two months ago."
Emma stared at the paper. It was so strange to see it this way. It seemed bigger than she'd imagined it. Right there between her lungs taking up space it shouldn't.
"Now flip the page," Dr. West said and when Emma did as instructed, the doctor reached forward and tapped on a place on this sheet, "And this is the mass in your chest now."
It was significantly smaller, as if something had eaten away at it from two sides. Where it had been nearly round before, now it sort of looked like a mostly eaten apple, just the core left. She stared at this picture a long moment and then looked curiously up at the doctor, not sure she understood why Dr. West had given her these sheets.
As if reading her mind, the doctor said, "I wanted you to see that your treatment is working. Very obviously so."
Oh. Emma said nothing.
"I know it can be disheartening to be told you need more treatment than you'd originally planned on," Dr. West elaborated.
Emma shrugged her shoulders, still saying nothing, not willing to admit to this doctor whom she'd only met once before that her scan results were upsetting to her.
Dr. West waited a beat but when Emma didn't speak, she just shrugged a shoulder of her own, "Anyhow...have you thought much about making a decision regarding radiation?"
"I…" Emma sighed, "not really." She'd tried to think about it but every time she did she sort of felt like the weight on her chest might finally crush her. She didn't understand why they wouldn't just tell her what to do. She wasn't a doctor. She hadn't even gone to college. Heck, she hadn't even really finished high school. Running away from her foster homes hadn't been conducive to attending school - though she'd gotten her GED in her early twenties to make up for it.
Dr. West tilted her head, "Is there a reason why you would consider radiation over additional chemo?"
Emma's brow crinkled. It was a strange way to phrase the question. Was Dr. West trying to tell her that she didn't think radiation was a good choice? Emma sighed again, "I don't know...I just...two more months of chemo seems so long."
"Yes," Dr. West nodded, "Often with older people, whom we don't worry about late effects for, we recommend that they do radiation simply because their bodies cannot handle two additional months of chemo. You're young though and, by virtue of that, you started off in a much healthier place than most of the patients we see."
"So...radiation is easier?" Emma gnawed her lip.
Dr. West's lips pursed a moment before she answered, "Not necessarily. It comes with its own side effects, which vary in severity from person to person. Yes, people tend to tolerate it better than chemo but that does not mean it is easy. And don't forget, in your case, what we're really talking about is the risk of late effects. Not the short term effects."
Emma sighed. Of course. She hadn't forgotten about the late effects. It was hard to forget about heart disease or breast cancer. The truth was, if she hadn't known what decision she had to make before she came into this room, she certainly knew now. It just didn't make it any easier. She kept getting hung up on the part where she would be sick for two extra months. It felt like an eternity. And there was the added stress of not being sure her savings balance would sustain her that long. She would most likely need a loan. The thought made her stomach twist painfully even as she opened her mouth to say, "I guess I'll go with the extra chemo."
xxxxxx
Back in her car, Emma rested her head against her steering wheel. Just like that she'd gone from half way done chemo to only a third done. She now had four months of chemo in front of her. It was like being all the way back on day one of treatment but with the added bonus of already being worn down.
She wanted to scream. Instead, she lifted her head from the steering wheel and fished out her phone. Scrolling through her contacts and dialing a number.
It rang three times before a gruff voice said hello on the other end.
"Hey Tony," Emma said, "Got a mark for me?"
The amount of work she'd done in the last three weeks had diminished significantly from the amount she'd done in the earlier weeks of her treatment, having fewer and fewer days where she truly felt well enough to attempt it. Actually, the way she was currently feeling, worse than she usually felt the Tuesday following chemo, would usually keep her from trying to work at all but if she was expected to support herself through two extra months of chemo, she couldn't just go home and lie on the couch. She needed to make some more money. Now.
xxxxxx
She was an idiot - that was what Emma thought as she sat with her head resting against the steering wheel for the second time that day. She should have just gone home to lie on the couch. Instead, she'd tracked a bail jumper to the middle of freaking nowhere and her car had broken down on her way there. Now she was somewhere near the New Hampshire and Maine border on some crappy deserted country road, she felt awful, it was cold, it would be dark soon, and she was way to exhausted to deal with this.
She didn't move her head from the steering wheel for a really long time. It was nice for a while to pretend that this problem might solve itself but eventually with a deep sigh she straightened and reached for her phone. She shivered, her entire body shaking, as she tried to sort out who to call. She could try to find a tow company but she barely knew where she was. She gnawed on her lip, resisted the urge to just go back to resting her head on the steering wheel, and then flipped through her measly few contacts, picking the only number that she thought really made any sense for her to call.
The phone was answered after only one ring.
"Hey," Emma said hesitantly, "I...uh...I sort of need some help…"
xxxxxx
Thank goodness for cell phones and GPS units. That was what Regina thought as she flew down the road at a speed that she knew was much faster than she should be driving.
She'd already called Billy from Storybrooke's one and only mechanic shop, who'd promised to head out immediately, but she didn't trust that when he said immediately he actually meant right that very second. She didn't want Emma out there alone in the cold for a second longer than necessary, especially not when the sun was starting to set. She was much too frantic to dwell on what such an intense reaction probably indicated about her feelings for Emma. Although, if she were to dwell on it, she was sure she could convince herself that her reaction was only that of a concerned friend, definitely nothing more.
Her GPS barked at her to turn right. She made the quick turn and stared at the GPS unit a minute to sort out where she needed to go next to get to the coordinates Emma had given her. Straight, it seemed. She was now apparently on the road that Emma had broken down on.
It took five more minutes of slightly reckless driving before she saw the yellow bug up ahead. Her heart rate increased, a fresh wave of adrenaline shooting through her, as she pulled over onto the shoulder and jumped out of the car, moving as quickly as her heels would allow her over to Emma's vehicle.
Emma was slumped against the steering wheel. As Regina reached up to rap against the window, her mind flashed back to this almost identical scene in the cancer centre parking garage nearly two months previous. She'd been convinced she'd have to call for help that day and she felt the same surge of worry now, compounded tenfold because this time she knew who was on the other side of this window. Knew that it was someone she cared about. Her heart felt like it was trapped in her throat.
Emma's response time wasn't great but she straightened slowly when Regina tapped on the window and Regina let out the breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. She didn't wait for Emma to move any further, she just yanked the car door open. "Emma," she rushed out, unable to keep the frantic edge out of her voice and, frankly, not really caring all that much, "are you okay?" Her eyes scanned Emma up and down, although she wasn't quite sure what she was looking for.
Emma shivered as tired green eyes looked up to meet Regina's. "I'm fine," she insisted even if she sounded anything but.
"You must be freezing," Regina sighed, still searching for some kind of sign that would help her decide if Emma needed some kind of immediate medical intervention. Emma was flushed and her eyes seemed glazed and not completely focused but there wasn't anything overtly requiring an ambulance.
Emma shrugged, repeating just as unconvincingly, "I'm fine." Another wave of shivering seemed to overcome her and her teeth chattered a moment before she added with a rueful smile, "the car, not so fine."
Regina's eyes narrowed, her lips pursing together. Why must Emma always joke in these serious situations when Regina was trying to decide if she needed help or not? After a beat, she shook her head at Emma and with a soft sigh suggested, "Why don't you come sit in my car until the tow truck gets here? It will be warmer." She wished she'd thought to bring a blanket. Although she'd come here straight from the office, so she wasn't sure where she would have gotten a blanket from.
Emma looked like she might protest for a half of a second but then she nodded her agreement.
Regina helped Emma out of the yellow bug and lead her back to the Mercedes, turning the vehicle back on and cranking up the heat as Emma settled into the passenger seat. Emma was shivering again and, almost subconsciously, Regina reached over to touch Emma's cheek, wanting to check her temperature. She was surprised to find that instead of the cool skin she expected, what she felt instead was heat radiating off of Emma's skin. Her forehead scrunched in worry, "Do you have a fever?"
Emma's brow crinkled to match Regina's, "No?"
Regina reached over again, this time placing the back of her hand on Emma's forehead and leaving it there until Emma squirmed away from her. Emma was definitely warmer than she ought to be. "I think you do," Regina disagreed with Emma's assessment of her own health, "I'm taking you to the hospital."
"No!" Emma's protest came sharp and loud, followed by more of a whine of, "I'm fine."
Regina quirked an eyebrow at her, "You have cancer. There is nothing fine about a fever." Volunteering at the cancer centre, coupled with some of her own research, had taught Regina plenty about cancer care. She knew that a fever could be a big problem for someone on chemo.
Emma scowled, grumbling, "I don't have a fever."
Was that seriously the argument she was going with? Regina just maintained the quirked eyebrow, disbelieving, "Emma."
Emma's scowl deepened, making her look almost like a petulant child now, as she tried a different tactic, "We can't leave my car."
"Yes we can," Regina disagreed, "The tow truck is on its way. Billy is perfectly capable of bringing it back to Storybrooke on his own."
Emma's scowl softened a bit at that, replaced with a hint of curiosity, "We're going to Storybrooke?"
"Of course. Where else would would we go?"
Emma shrugged, looking away from Regina and out the window. After a minute of silence she mumbled, "I don't want to go to the hospital."
"Emma," Regina sighed, waffling between feeling bad for Emma and feeling annoyed at how stubborn she was being, "you have a fever. You need to see a doctor."
"I don't want to," Emma mumbled, sounding almost childish again. She crossed her arms over herself as another wave of shivering seemed to overcome her.
Regina didn't really feel like arguing right now, not when she could already be driving towards Storybrooke and Storybrooke General Hospital. "We'll discuss it once we're in town," she offered a compromise - not that she had actual intentions of taking Emma anywhere but the hospital, but Emma didn't need to know that.
"Fine," Emma grumbled, her body hunching in on itself even further as she leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes.
xxxxxx
Emma must have fallen asleep, she decided, because one minute her eyes were closed, her cheek resting against the cool glass of the car window, and the next minute someone was tapping her shoulder and she was jerking upright.
"Sorry," Regina apologized softly.
Emma stretched her arms, her brain taking a minute to catch up and recall the sequence of events that had led her to be waking up in Regina's car. "Where are we?" she asked warily as she looked out the window of the car, the building in front of her looked suspiciously like a hospital.
Regina hesitated before confirming Emma's suspicions, "This is Storybrooke General Hospital."
Emma's eyes narrowed, grumbling, "I thought I said I didn't want to go to the hospital."
"Emma," Regina sighed, clearly exasperated.
Emma sighed too. She was just grumpy and having a bad day. She knew she was being stubborn and maybe just a little ridiculous. She supposed Regina had come all the way to the middle of nowhere to collect her and her broken down car, so if Regina wanted her to see a doctor, she could go see a doctor. It wasn't as if that was anything new for her anyway. Doctors were the freaking story of her life lately. Besides, fever really was something that was supposed to merit a trip to a doctor - they'd hammered that into her head at Chemo 101 all those weeks ago. "Fine," she begrudgingly conceded with another sigh.
Regina said nothing but she looked relieved.
Emma pushed the car door open and climbed out. Black spots immediately dotted her vision and she swayed as she reached out towards the car to try and stabilize herself. "Shit." She wasn't sure if she said it out loud or just in her head but there was suddenly a hand on her elbow, supporting her. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, begging the sudden wave of dizziness to fade. After a minute of the deep breathing she slowly blinked her eyes back open, relieved to find that the black spots didn't reappear.
Regina was eyeing her with wide eyes. She didn't have to say a word for it to be clear that she was worried.
"I'm fine," Emma insisted.
Regina just quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at her, leaving her hand on Emma's elbow as she led her into the building.
As they stepped through the wide double doors of the emergency room, they were greeted by a waft of warm air, bright lights, and the strong scent of generic antiseptic. All hospitals smelt the same. Emma was convinced that they must all get their cleaning supplies from the same place.
Emma didn't even realize that she'd stopped moving until Regina squeezed her elbow and urged her past the busy but not full waiting room and towards the triage desk.
Perhaps it was Emma's lack of hair or maybe the fact that she was with the mayor of this small town but the nurse at the triage station startled at the sight of her, looking sort of shocked. It wasn't until Regina glared at the nurse that she waved her hand, beckoning them forward and motioning towards a chair. "Come here, come here, sit down," the nurse rushed out.
Regina guided Emma into the chair and then finally released her elbow. She seemed to hesitate, hovering uncertainly near Emma, as if not sure what to do now.
"Stay," Emma mouthed to her and Regina immediately nodded, settling into a more relaxed stance next to the chair Emma was sitting in.
The nurse took Emma's blood pressure, which was too low, and her temperature, which was too high, while she asked questions.
Emma rattled off a list of medication a mile long without batting an eye but hesitated when asked how she was feeling. "I'm fine," was the response she decided on.
"Emma," Regina whispered low and Emma didn't have to look at her to know she was probably rolling her eyes.
"I'm just tired," Emma amended with a sigh. As if intending to betray her, her body chose that moment to send a fresh wave of shivering through her. "And I've got the chills," she tacked on, "That's all."
Regina made a tsking sound from beside her, "Tell her about what happened in the parking lot."
Emma glanced over her shoulder at Regina, narrowing her eyes at her a moment before looking back at the nurse, "I just stood up too quickly. Got a little dizzy. No big deal."
The nurse made no comment on Emma's insistence that it was no big deal, she just jotted something down. "Alright," she said standing, "come with me and we'll get you settled in a bed and I'll talk to the doctor."
Emma's brow crinkled. They weren't sending her to the waiting room? They were going to give her a bed and see her right away? But she wasn't even really sick. Was this because she had cancer? Or because she was with Regina? She wondered if maybe it was a combination of both.
xxxxxx
Emma had only been settled in the hospital bed in the little cubby hole separated from the rest of the ER by nothing but curtains a few minutes when a doctor appeared.
He was tall with hideously bleached blonde hair and the way he leered at Regina, who had settled herself into a chair next to the hospital bed, one leg crossed over the other knee, made Emma want to punch him in the face.
"I'm Dr. Whale," he introduced himself with a smile she was sure he thought was charming but that only made her dislike him more.
Emma didn't smile back, if anything, she glared.
Clearly taken aback by her reaction, Dr. Whale hesitated a moment. "So you've got a fever today?"
"Yes," Emma nodded.
"Okay," he nodded too, still slightly off kilter, "Any other symptoms besides the fever?"
"No," Emma said quickly but when Regina cleared her throat she amended, "Just a little bit of dizziness."
He nodded again, motioning for her to sit up so that he could do a physical exam. He listened to her chest, checked her throat and ears, and then had her lay back down so he could palpate her abdomen. Looking satisfied, he rubbed the back of his neck as he studied her, "I don't see anything obvious. The dizziness might be due to dehydration. Have you been drinking lots?"
Emma's brow crinkled as she considered the question. She hated liquid the first few days following treatment, the taste and feel of it in her sore mouth absolutely awful. Her mouth was better today though, so that wasn't the issue. Although, she'd left the cancer centre and gone straight to work - she hadn't had anything to eat or drink in probably six hours. The worst part about it was that she hadn't even realized it until right this second. She shrugged sort of sheepishly, "Not really."
"You really need to be drinking plenty. Especially with all the medication you're on. It's important to flush it out of your system," Dr. Whale admonished, eyeing her seriously a long moment.
"I know," Emma grumbled, ducking her head so that she didn't have to see the look on the doctor's face a moment longer.
Dr. Whale cleared his throat, waiting for Emma to look back up at him before explaining, "I'm going to order some blood work to check your counts and I'm also going to give your oncologist a call. We can take it from there."
"Alright," Emma agreed with a soft sigh.
xxxxxx
Emma had the hospital bed's thin blanket pulled up to her chin when a nurse arrived a few minutes after the doctor had disappeared, dragging a cart and an IV pole into the small cubby with her.
This was a different nurse than the one at the triage desk and she nodded politely at Regina, "Madam Mayor," before she turned her eyes to Emma and introduced herself with a smile, "Hi there, I'm Nurse Bell. I'm going to draw some blood. Dr. Whale has also decided that he'd like to start an IV and get some fluids into you, so we'll do that too."
Emma resisted the urge to sigh, pulling herself up in the hospital bed as she watched Nurse Bell pull tubes and a needle from the cart. "I have a port," she interrupted the woman's work, her hand hovering over the access point in her chest, "Can we use that?"
Nurse Bell's brow crinkled, looking apologetic, "I'm sorry, we can't."
"Why not?" It was Regina who asked the abrupt question, sitting up even straighter in her chair as both the nurse and Emma looked over at her.
Nurse Bell swallowed, "We don't stock port access kits."
"Why not?" Regina repeated, her expression fiercely serious, "Do you not have enough funding to properly stock this establishment?"
Nurse Bell swallowed again, "It's not that. It's just that we've never once had a patient come in here with a port before."
Regina seemed to not know what to say to that, her jaw tightening and her lips pursing, "Very well."
"I really am sorry," the nurse apologized to Emma as she brought everything over to the bed.
"It's fine," Emma said, looking away as the nurse rolled up her sleeve and tied a tourniquet around her upper arm.
xxxxxx
By the time Dr. Whale returned, the saline drip was almost gone and Emma was covered in three extra blankets that Regina had returned with after disappearing under the pretense of calling Billy to check on Emma's car.
"Your white blood count looks okay, it isn't too low," he explained, "I spoke with your oncologist and he recommended that I give you a prescription for an antibiotic just to be on the safe side," he held out the sheet of paper that was presumably the prescription for her to take, adding, "you can also take some Tylenol to help with the fever side effects. If it doesn't get better or if it gets worse you should make sure to be seen again."
Emma nodded, clutching the prescription tightly in her hand.
"Alright," Dr. Whale rocked on the balls of his feet, "If you have no questions, I'll leave you be. Someone will come unhook your IV and you're free to go."
"No questions," Emma confirmed, waiting for the doctor to leave before she turned her head to look at Regina, "So…" Emma trailed off, not really sure what she was planning on saying.
"We'll stop and get the prescription and some Tylenol on the way to my house," Regina offered.
Emma tilted her head, "I'm staying at your house?"
Regina's eyes widened, looking suddenly alarmed, rushing out, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have presumed. There's a nice bed and breakfast in town. I'm sure they'd have a room available for you to stay in until your car is fixed…"
"Regina," Emma interrupted, or tried to interrupt, the highly amusing rambling. Regina didn't seem to hear her though, so she had to repeat, "Regina!"
Regina startled, her speech stopping, as she eyed Emma carefully.
Emma smiled slowly, "I was just teasing. If you'll have me, I'll gladly stay with you."
Regina's eyes narrowed and she shook her head at Emma. When she spoke though, there was no anger in her voice, "Has anyone ever told you that you're impossible?"
"Maybe," Emma grinned, her tired eyes twinkling as she shrugged her shoulders.
xxxxxxx
Emma had fallen asleep in Regina's car for the second time that day by the time they were pulling into the driveway of the large white house.
Regina turned off the car and watched the steady rise and fall of Emma's chest for several long minutes. This time Emma had fallen asleep with her head laid back against the headrest instead of against the window, her mouth was slightly open and a thin line of drool was dribbling out of corner of her mouth. Emma was clearly deep asleep and Regina wished there was a way she could get her inside without waking her but knew that that was wholly unrealistic. With a soft sigh, she finally reached over and shook Emma's shoulder gently. "Emma," she murmured softly, "Emma, time to wake up."
Emma made an unintelligible noise, her nose crinkling adorably as she shifted in her seat but her eyes didn't open.
Regina nudged Emma's shoulder again, still being gentle, "Emma, come on."
More noise that amounted to nothing more than grunting came from Emma. With eyes still closed, a grumbled barely comprehensible, "I don't wanna," finally escaped her lips.
"Emma, you can't sleep in the car all night," Regina tried reason, although somehow she doubted reasoning with a person half asleep was really going to be an effective tactic.
Head still fulling resting against the seat headrest, tired green eyes blinked open, and then closed, and then open again. They stayed open, although just barely, Emma's head rotating so that she could focus on Regina. "Hi," she smiled tiredly.
Regina chuckled lightly, smiling back, echoing, "Hi."
Sleepy eyes still barely open, Emma rotated her head back on the headrest so that she was staring out the front windshield. "This is your house?" she said, sounding almost confused.
"Yes," Regina nodded.
"Wow," Emma said, glancing back over at Regina.
Regina chuckled, shrugging one shoulder. She'd bought the house with the inheritance she'd received when her father died. It wasn't a small house by any means but it was nowhere near the size of the home she'd grown up in.
"Wow," Emma repeated, her eyes closing.
"Don't close your eyes," Regina tsked, "You can't go back to sleep until we get you in the house."
Emma groaned but she blinked her eyes back open, pulling her head off the headrest and reaching down to unsnap her seatbelt. Before Regina could stop her, Emma pushed the car door open and stepped out. Regina's heart hammered loudly in her chest, worried they were about to have a repeat of the incident in the parking lot. She rushed to get out of her side of the car and over to Emma's as quickly as possibly. Thankfully though Emma didn't seem on the verge of passing out like she'd seemed in the hospital parking lot earlier that evening and Regina could feel her heart rate slowing as she led the way inside.
There was no house tour or anything else that Cora Mills had taught Regina to be necessary host behaviour. Regina simply brought Emma upstairs to the guest room, retrieving a pair of pajamas from her own room for Emma to change into, while she went to fill a glass of water so that Emma could take the antibiotic and some Tylenol.
"Thanks," Emma smiled sleepily as she swallowed the medication, setting the water glass on the nightstand and slipping under the covers with a yawn.
"You're welcome," Regina smiled back, "Do you need anything else? Another blanket?"
"I'm okay," Emma mumbled, her eyes blinking closed for longer and longer periods of time now, clearly beyond exhausted.
"Alright. If you need anything just shout," Regina suggested.
"Mmhm," Emma mumbled, rolling over onto her side and curling up in a ball, "Night."
"Goodnight," Regina murmured back, lingering in the doorway a moment longer before she left the room, closing the door behind her and heading down to her study.
She came back to check on Emma a half an hour later. She was not surprised at all to find Emma sound asleep, breathing evenly. Remembering how Emma had been shivering in the hospital earlier, Regina covered her with the extra blanket before slipping back out of the room.
xxxxxx
Emma slept straight through the night, waking late the following morning to sun streaming in through the blinds. She groaned as she rolled onto her back, memories from the day before slowly coming back to her. She'd been dead tired by the time they'd arrived at Regina's the night before and she barely remembered climbing the stairs and ending up here in the guest room. She reached up and touched her forehead with the back of her hand, trying to decide if she still had a fever. Her skin felt cool to her touch. It didn't necessarily mean she didn't have a fever but it satisfied her.
She made no move to get up for quite some time, content to stare at the ceiling, and stay safely ensconced in the warm cocoon of blankets. Eventually though, the pressure on her bladder forced her to kick away the blankets and slip out of the bed to pad out of the room. Faced with a long hallway on the other side of the bedroom door, Emma's brow crinkled. One of these rooms had to be a bathroom, right?
She turned right, heading away from the stairs, and trying the first door she encountered. It was not a washroom but the pressure on her bladder was momentarily forgotten as she stared at the pale green walls of the room, at the dark wood crib set up under the window, at the matching dresser, change table, and book shelf lining the walls, and at a cute animal mobile hanging over the crib.
Her brow furrowed in confusion at what was clearly a nursery. Regina hadn't mentioned having a child. She ran back through all of their conversations, trying to decide if Regina had hinted at it and Emma had just missed it but she was coming up blank. Maybe Regina was pregnant?
After several minutes of just staring, Emma stepped out of the room and closed the door, still confused as she moved one room down and thankfully found the washroom.
xxxxxx
Not bothering to change out of the pajamas that Regina had given her the previous evening, Emma descended the stairs to the first floor carefully, looking around with awe. This place was huge and beautifully decorated. She hadn't really realized how well off Regina was. It was a bit intimidating, if Emma was being honest. It made it hard to imagine why Regina wanted anything to do with her. Because she feels bad for you, Emma reminded herself.
She shook those thoughts away, instead focusing on figuring out where Regina might be. She wandered through a few rooms before she found the kitchen and Regina sitting at a table sipping a coffee and reading a paper. She shuffled her feet, hovering in the doorway.
Regina looked up from her paper, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, which somehow made her even better looking than usual. Emma's eyes widened slightly at the sudden thought. Stop that she hissed at her brain.
"Morning," Regina smiled slowly, setting the paper down on the table and taking her glasses off and setting them on top of the paper. She pushed herself up and out of her seat, "Can I get you something to drink?" she was already moving over towards the cupboards, "A coffee? Juice? Water?"
Emma swallowed, "No...I'm fine." Coffee was increasingly becoming something that she didn't want. It used to be only the first few days following treatment that she couldn't stomach it but it seemed now that there were very few days where her stomach was up to dealing with the strong liquid.
"Emma," Regina quirked an eyebrow, "Didn't the doctor just tell you yesterday that you're not drinking enough?"
Emma groaned. Of course Regina had been paying attention. "Fine," she grumbled, "I'll have some juice."
Regina smiled in amusement as she took a glass out of the cupboard, setting it on the counter and opening fridge. "Is apple juice okay?" she called over her shoulder.
"Sure," Emma agreed easily, running a hand over her bald head as she moved over to the table and took a seat across from where Regina had been sitting.
"How about food? Do you want something to eat?" Regina asked as she put the juice container back into the fridge.
Emma shook her head, "Let's start with the juice."
Regina nodded her agreement, carrying the full glass of apple juice over to the table, setting it down in front of Emma. "How are you feeling this morning?" she asked, a hand reaching out to touch Emma's cheek, presumably to check her temperature.
Emma would be lying if she said that it didn't feel a little like a loss when Regina pulled her hand back. There was something incredibly soothing about the other woman's touch. "I feel much better," Emma assured.
"Good," Regina hummed, moving back to her seat at the table, "You don't feel warm. Although it would probably be best to check with the thermometer."
Emma shrugged that suggestion off, lifting the glass to take a small sip. She could feel Regina watching her carefully, as if anticipating her reaction, and she had a sudden memory of Regina saying she made her own apple juice. She set the glass down and smiled at Regina, "It's really good. Is this the stuff you make?"
Regina beamed, "Yes. I'm glad you like it."
Emma smiled again, taking another sip, setting the glass down again. "So…" she drummed her fingers against the tabletop, "I...uh...have sort of maybe a weird question."
Regina quirked a curious eyebrow, saying nothing.
"I was looking for the washroom upstairs and I noticed that you...uhh...have a nursery?" It wasn't quite a question, more of an awkward statement, but Emma wasn't really sure the best way to ask about it. Maybe Regina wouldn't want to talk about it.
Regina's face went blank a moment, her jaw tightening slightly. Emma could practically see the wheels turning in her head, as if she was debating something, but after a moment she seemed to relax, the tension in her shoulders easing, and she answered, "Yes. I'm hoping to adopt. Well...actually I am adopting, I suppose. I'm working with an adoption agency in Boston who assure me one day there will be a baby for me to take home. It's...a very slow process."
Emma watched Regina carefully as she spoke. Regina's expression a fascinating mixture of hopefulness and longing. The revelation that Regina intended to adopt only made Emma admire her more than she already did - Regina would make a great mother, Emma was sure of that. A baby would be so lucky to have her. And, yet, at the same time, a strange feeling that Emma didn't quite understand settled in the pit of her stomach. She pushed the slight unease away, grinning brightly at Regina instead, telling her exactly what she thought, "Wow. That's so great. Baby's are cool. And you're going to be an awesome mom."
Regina smiled almost shyly at Emma's words, looking almost nervous, like she desperately wanted to believe that was true. "I hope so," she said quietly.
Emma grinned at her again, "Trust me. You've come to my rescue what? Twice now? Three times if you count that first time in the cancer centre parking lot, which we probably definitely should. You've got the taking care of other people thing down pat. You're going to rock motherhood."
A blush creeped up Regina's cheeks at the compliment. "Thank you," she managed to get out and then, clearly uncomfortable with her own reaction to being complimented, she cleared her throat and changed the topic, "So what would you like to do today?"
Emma just shrugged. Eyeing Regina a minute before a sudden thought occurred to her, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be volunteering at the cancer centre today?" It was Wednesday after all.
"Yes," Regina nodded, "But I called this morning and said I'd had an emergency and wouldn't be able to make it."
"Oh," Emma couldn't think of anything else to say.
xxxxxx
After much discussion, which involved Emma insisting three times that she really was feeling much better than the day before, they decided to head into town to check on Emma's car and to have a late breakfast.
Emma had put on her same jeans from the day before, sighing, as she usually did, at how once skinny jeans had become loose fitting. She'd finished the outfit with a long sleeve blue cotton shirt that she'd borrowed from Regina. She was actually sort of surprised that Regina even owned it, given that she'd only ever seen Regina in what Emma would consider dress clothes - blouses, and pencil skirts, and blazers, and slacks. Take today for instance, Regina was wearing a burgundy blazer, a black camisole, and grey slacks. She looked phenomenal, of course she did, she always looked phenomenal, but, still, Emma couldn't really understand why she chose to dress so formally on a day off. Emma much preferred jeans and t-shirts.
They'd stopped at the mechanic shop first, where there had been somewhat good news - the car was fixable for about $400. Emma had feared the price tag to repair it would be significantly higher, or, worse, that it wouldn't be fixable at all. It was still money that would have to come out of her rapidly dwindling savings account though, which was a stressful thought. There was more bad news too - the part needed to fix the car had to be ordered, so the car wouldn't be fixed until late tomorrow at the earliest, which meant Emma would be trapped in Storybrooke until at least then. Okay, well, maybe that wasn't exactly bad news. The thought of spending an extra day or more with Regina was certainly pleasant enough.
They were now sitting in a little diner called Granny's - the only real diner in town as Regina explained it.
"Is it just me or is everyone staring at us?" Emma asked, as she took a sip of the water a waitress with red streaks in her hair and a barely covered midriff had dropped off at the table.
Regina glanced around the room a minute, seeming to consider it, before she looked back across at Emma, "Yes. Everyone is staring."
Emma rolled her eyes, "I mean...not that I'm not used to it or anything…"
"It's not you, it's me. They're not used to seeing me eat with someone else," Regina explained.
Emma's brow crinkled at that. Regina usually ate alone? That just seemed kind of sad. "Yes...well…" she said, "People usually at least try and look away when you look back at them at the cancer centre..." She was talking specifically about a guy with glasses sitting one table over who hadn't looked away from them once since they'd walked in.
Regina followed Emma's gaze, her eyes narrowing, "Sydney," she called loudly across the room, "Don't you have anything better to do than stare? Like, perhaps, shouldn't you be at work? Or does the paper not need you?"
Sydney's eyes widened and he swallowed nervously, "My apologies Madam Mayor. I was just taking an early lunch...but I will...be going now."
Regina rolled her eyes as the man got up to leave, smirking over at Emma, "Better?"
Emma laughed.
xxxxxx
Emma ordered pancakes and when the waitress, Ruby, brought them over to the table, Regina stared with narrowed eyes at the plate stacked with four pancakes, topped with strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries.
"No," Regina said, looking up at Ruby, her eyes still narrowed. She motioned to Emma's plate of food, "This won't do. The menu didn't say anything about fresh fruit."
Emma tilted her head in confusion as Ruby's eyes widened in alarm.
"Sorry?" Ruby said uncertainly, not sure what the issue was.
"She can't have the fruit. You need to take those back and fix it. And don't just knock the fruit off the top and bring it back, make fresh pancakes," Regina said evenly.
Ruby was nodding reaching for the plate when Emma stopped her.
"Wait, wait, wait," Emma waved her arms in a stop motion, "don't bother. It's okay, really."
"Emma," Regina said.
Emma looked over at her, "Why do you even know the fruit thing?" Fruit that couldn't be easily washed was one of the items on the foods to be avoided for cancer patients list that had been provided to her at Chemo 101. She didn't really think that it was a big deal though. It was more important for patients who were neutropenic, with white blood cell counts too low to fight an infection easily acquired through improperly washed fruit, among other things. She wasn't neutropenic though - she'd just had blood work done last night, so she knew for a fact that her white blood cell count was high enough.
Regina shrugged a shoulder, "It's just something I picked up at cancer centre."
"I can just knock the fruit off," Emma insisted, glancing between a confused Ruby and Regina.
"Seriously Emma?" Regina quirked an eyebrow, "You were just in the hospital last night. You really want to risk a further infection?"
Feeling stubborn, Emma shook her head, "My blood counts were fine last night. And I'm already on antibiotics."
Regina said nothing, just quirked an eyebrow higher, as if Emma's argument was less an argument in her favour and instead an argument against her point.
Ruby chimed in then, "It's no problem. It will really only take a few minutes for Granny to remake the pancakes. I wouldn't want you to get sick from something you ate here...that would be way bad for business."
"See Emma," Regina said, "Ruby here is being sensible. Why can't you be too?"
Ruby grinned.
Emma groaned but knew she had no hope now that it was two against one. She shook her head, but conceded, letting Ruby take the plate away.
When Ruby was gone, she glared playfully at Regina, not actually angry. "You really are going to make a great mom, you know."
They both laughed.
xxxxxx
They finished their lunch and then went back to Regina's house, spending the majority of the afternoon curled up on the couch watching movies. Despite her continued insistence that she was feeling much better today, Emma dozed on and off throughout the afternoon, missing as much of the films as she saw. Regina didn't mind though, watching the movies quietly while Emma slept, and talking animatedly about them, among other things, whenever Emma woke.
Regina made lasagna for dinner, Emma sitting at a bar stool at the kitchen island while Regina did the prep work. They ate in the dining room, the least used room in Regina's house. It was nice to have company, Regina thought as she watched Emma across the table from her. No, she corrected to herself - it was nice to have Emma's company.
After dinner, they stood in the kitchen together, cleaning the dishes, Emma washing while Regina dried.
"Hey," Emma said, as she handed a rinsed plate to Regina, "I...uhh...I just wanted to say thanks. Because I think I forgot to say it yesterday. So, thanks. For everything. You keep doing these nice things for me. And, I mean...I know thanks isn't really enough…"
Regina set the dried plate down on the counter, throwing the tea towel over her shoulder and interrupting, "Emma." She waited a beat and continued, "You don't have to keep thanking me for these things. I'm not...I didn't come to get you yesterday because I was being charitable or expecting thanks. I came to get you because…" she swallowed, hesitating to use the word on the tip of her tongue, but deciding to go for it, "because we're friends and that's what friends do."
"Oh," Emma swallowed thickly, a hand reaching up to run over the top of her bald head. She blinked slowly, green eyes staring at Regina suddenly filled with so much emotion. "It's just…" her voice was suddenly small, vulnerable, "No one has ever...people don't usually show up."
Emma's tongue darted to wet her lips and Regina's eyes were drawn downward towards them. She stared at Emma's lips longer than was probably appropriate before she flicked her eyes back up to meet Emma's. She wasn't sure what to say. She couldn't understand why no one had ever showed up for Emma before. It was completely and utterly baffling. Emma was wonderful. Funny and interesting and intelligent and Regina couldn't understand why she had somehow ended up alone. It wasn't fair. Nothing about Emma's life seemed fair to Regina. "Well…" she said carefully, "I'm not most people."
Emma's lips twitched into a smile, "I know. You're much better. Much much better."
Regina smiled too, her eyes drawn to Emma's lips again, her heart suddenly hammering impossibly loudly in her chest, a flutter of nervous energy churning in her stomach. She licked her own lips, smiling again, "Well, so are you."
Emma's eyes were bright and she tipped her head back and laughed, "We're just too impossibly wonderful people. How lucky that we found each other?"
Regina laughed too, "Like fate."
"I don't believe in fate," Emma shook her head, although she was still grinning, her eyes dipping down to linger on Regina's lips a moment before they were looking back up, green eyes locking with brown.
"Me either," Regina agreed, swallowing thickly, her heart still hammering uncomfortably loudly in her chest. She took a small step forward and paused, waiting to see what Emma would do.
Emma didn't take a step back, she just continued to stare, wide green eyes filled with thick emotion.
When Regina began to lean towards her, Emma leaned forward too. There was only a hairsbreadth left between their lips, they were milliseconds away from kissing, Regina's eyes beginning to flutter closed, when suddenly Emma reeled backwards, taking a stumbling step away.
Regina's eyes flew open to find green eyes suddenly looking wild and frantic and uncertain and her stomach dropped instantly. Her mind raced. What had she done? What had she done? What had she done? She'd most definitely just ruined everything.
xxxxxx