Emma could feel the rough, thick sheets against her skin that she had come to be familiar with over the past few days. They were tucked tightly underneath her sides, so tightly that she could hardly move. Emma squirmed crazily, hoping to loosen the death grip the sheets had on her. To her chagrin, it didn't work; in fact, the uncomfortable hospital-issued sheets only felt all the tighter, thanks to her efforts.

Emma groaned loudly. She was all for sleeping the day away; sleep had been her only true escape from the world back when she was on her own. City streets, buses, trains, beds, cars, it was all the same to her. She was willing to and could crash anywhere. But now, Emma actually had a world she loved to be in. She didn't want to escape from it with sleep; she loved every minute she spent in Storybrooke.

The problem was, becoming the Dark One had kicked her out of that world. As soon as Emma had felt the malicious, corrupted power of the Dark One pulsing through her veins, taking over her very being, she had known she had to get out of there before someone got hurt.

Thus, she had found herself straddling the town line, half of her body in Storybrooke, the other half sticking out into the real world. It was like the Dark One inside her had been asking, "Well, Emma, do we stay, or do we go?"

And Emma had answered that question by removing the remaining half of her body from the town she had grown to love. She loved it so much so that she was willing to leave it to save it.

Emma's memories were interrupted by the creak of her door as it opened painstakingly slowly. She watched one of her doctors peek his head in the door to see if she was awake. Emma instinctively shut her eyes and steadied her breathing, faking drug-induced sleep.

The door opened wider, and Emma noticed that there were two, not one, sets of footsteps entering the room.

"You tucked her in?" she heard the doctor that had poked his head in the door say.

"She looked like she could use it." The other voice was coming from the guy who had pinned her against the wall and ruined her chances at escape. She could almost feel his shrug.

If Emma had managed to make it to the stairs, even after he'd knocked her over, she probably could have made it out of the hospital with no further problems or obstructions.

"You're an idiot," the first man said.

The other guy let the insult roll off of him "I know," he answered bck.

Emma fluttered her eyes open as if she were waking up. There wasn't much faking to do after that, though; she kind of was still waking up from the drugs. She was dizzy, her head felt hollow, and she was pretty sure there were two doctors in the room, not four like she was seeing.

"What happened?" Emma questioned the two doctors, even though she knew exactly what had happened. The scene was still running clearly through her mind, plus all of the ways it could have gone differently. All of the ways it could have gone better.

"You ran," was the answer.

"Can you loosen these sheets, please? They're really tight. It's hard to move." Emma smiled politely. She was trying to be on her best behavior; she knew now that one wrong move could seriously screw her up.

The guy that had caught the runaway Emma tugged at the covers. "Happy to, but it won't make much of a difference."

"What?!" Emma worked to kick the loosened sheets completely off, but the process was slow-moving and difficult. She soon found out why: her ankles and wrists were tied down by the same leather restraints she's had back in the hospital. "Is it really necessary to bind me to the bed?" Emma exclaimed, suddenly angry. She balled her hands into fists. The lighting in the room intensified as Emma's anger got the best of her and caused her to lose some of her control over her powers.

Both men nodded. "It is necessary when you run," the first doctor informed her. "Restraints, physical or chemical, are only used when a patient won't cooperate and starts to fight or run."

"Oh," Emma responded, unclenching her fingers. That was probably good information to know. The lighting returned to normal, and luckily, neither doctor seemed to associate the change in brightness with Emma's alternating emotions.

"Your family's here," the other man said. "Are you up to seeing them?"

"Uh-" Emma wasn't sure she wanted Mary Margaret or Henry to see her all chained up. Plus, she was fairly sure whatever was left of the Evil Queen in Regina would get a kick out of her situation. "No. Tell them to come back in a couple of days, please?"

The escape-ruiner raised an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

Emma pointed her chin at the restraints on each of her limbs. "Would you want your family to see you like this?"

When she lifted her hands to assert her point, Emma noticed that the deep gash she had received in her hand only days before had completely healed. Actually, it had vanished completely; there wasn't even the faintest of scars lingering on her palm. Yesterday, the injury had still been there at least, though it had only been a pale pink colored scar. A color that normally took months, not days, to achieve. Emma had assumed that the scar would eventually be the color of her skin but still be present and noticeable nonetheless; she had accepted that thanks to her overwhelming power, healing was extremely accelerated.

However, it was gone. Scars were for life.

But hers… it had just disappeared.

This fact terrified Emma. She was starting to expect that her powers were becoming stronger and her time left shorter.

The man laughed at Emma's question. "No, I guess I wouldn't."

With that, both men exited the room. And as they left, Emma heard an unfamiliar voice whisper in her mind.

She couldn't make out what it was saying. Yet.