Her cell was ringing. The official one, the work one. Emma fumbled for it, answering before she was fully awake. "Wha'?"

"Sheriff Swan?"

Emma caught sight of the clock and groaned into her pillow. Never again. She was never going drinking with Ruby, never, ever again — and this time she really meant it. Christ, she'd just gotten to sleep two hours ago.

"Sheriff?"

"Yeah?" She fought her way free of the warm, smooshy pillows and tried again. "Yes, this is the sheriff."

"This is Dr. Whale at Storybrooke General. I'm sorry to call so late, but I need you to come to the hospital."

Icy, full-blooded terror shot her into wide awake. Henry. "What is it?"

"We've had a patient escape." His short sigh echoed across the phone line. "Again."

A thick, chilly mist clung to the air, making it just cold enough that Emma wished she'd stopped to grab a scarf, or her gloves, wherever they were. As it was all she could do was pull the collar of her jacket up around her neck and huff on her hands. Only April, but still spring was slow coming.

Ruby was already in the parking lot when Emma pulled up, leaning against her car. The yellow-tinged lights of the hospital parking lot turned the bright red paint of her car bloody. "I hate you," she called, climbing out of her Bug. "How is it you don't look like complete crap?"

"Easy," Ruby called back. "I'm not old."

"You'll get old. Cow," Emma tossed off, but her heart wasn't in it. There was a paper bag in Ruby's hands and it had Emma's more-than-slightly hung-over hopes soaring. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It shouldn't be." Ruby swung the bag lazily back and forth. "Especially not after you called to drag me out here at three in the morning. I'm freezing my tits off."

"Yeah, well, I'd advise you to wear some actual clothes if you're so worried about your tits." Emma jogged the last couple steps to snatch up the bag, and breathed in deep. It was fragrant with the spicy scent of chai and… "Muffins?" God, they were still warm. Emma dug one out and pulled it apart as they headed to the hospital's main entrance. Steam curled up from the center. "Cranberry. Sweet baby Jesus — Ruby, marry me."

Ruby grinned. "Aw, Goldy, I thought you'd never ask. Actually, they're cranberry and ginger, with a little honey. I was kinda keyed up after we left Carter's, so I headed to the kitchen," she said, her long loping stride easily keeping pace with Emma as they headed into the hospital. "I'm thinking of making them the Monday Muffin for a bit. I'm going to name them after you. 'Cause you're tart and bitter."

"Hardy-har-har," Emma mumbled through a full mouth. She flashed her star at the receptionist, who pointed her towards the ICU. She filled Ruby in on the way. "Dr. Whale called about twenty minutes ago. Said a patient ran out."

Ruby cocked an eyebrow. "Again?"

Emma shrugged.

Ruby grinned, her red, red lipstick exaggerating the movement and adding a lascivious edge. "The docs here really need to work on their bedside manner if they're making all of their patients run off."

A voice purred from behind them. "I assure you, Deputy, our medical staff is second to none. Our security on the other hand…"

Emma rolled her eyes at the too-slick voice she knew in her sleep by now, but oddly enough she wasn't surprised. She was probably beyond surprise at this point, what with this town. Whenever something happened, the Mayor was sure to have her perfectly manicured claws in it. "Regina. Fancy meeting you here."

She might be beyond surprise, but, as she glanced over the Mayor's not-a-hair-out-of-place 'do and wrinkle-free silk shirt, Emma decided she was not beyond a good old-fashioned dose of cattiness. How could that woman look picture-perfect at three in damn the morning? That right there was reason enough to hate her, even if she wasn't an evil queen.

At least the doctor next to her looked human. Mostly. Dr. Whale always seemed to be a bit too glossy for Emma, more like an actor playing at doctor than the real thing. But he'd lost some of that at three in the morning. There were fatigue lines on his face, and his lab coat was rumpled. "Sheriff. Thank you for coming out so quickly."

Emma nodded at him and flipped open her notebook. Next to her, Ruby scrambled for her own notebook. "You said you had a missing person?"

"Yes. One of our long-term patients — or so it seems," he added acidly. "A woman. Caucasian, twenty-four years old, 5'2", brown hair, blue eyes. She was last seen just outside of the hospital, heading towards the woods, wearing green hospital scrubs."

"Scrubs?" Emma glanced up. "I thought you said she was a patient."

"We don't require our long-term patients to run around in those ridiculous hospital gowns," Regina interjected, her foot tapping a machine gun rata-tat-tat against the tile floor.

"Name?"

"Cecelia French," Dr. Whale began, but again Regina interrupted. "But she won't answer to it."

Ruby beat Emma to the question. "Why not?"

"Because she has been a resident of the hospital's psychiatric ward for the past twelve years."

Emma glanced up from her notebook, arching an eyebrow. "Didn't know this place had a psych ward."

"You're not alone," Dr. Whale remarked, staring down Regina.

The Mayor gave an elegant little shrug. "Hardly surprising, doctor. As I understand it, psychiatrics is not your field of expertise."

"No. It's patient care," Dr. Whale replied.

"So what kind of crazy are we talking about?" Emma cut in before Regina could start up.

"Miss French — " Regina hesitated, but like everything about her it was a little too perfect, too practiced. "Well, there are a lot of great big medical words, but when you boil it down, Sheriff, she is simply, and severely, crazy. As you so tactfully put it."

Emma glanced at Dr. Whale, then back to Regina. "She'd have to be to spend twelve years in a nut house."

"Psychiatric ward," Regina agreed. "One might say she is dangerously so."

"'One' might? You say so, doc?" Emma asked Dr. Whale.

"I am not in a position to say anything about Miss French's physical or mental well-being," he replied, with a pointed look at Regina. "As I have never had the opportunity to examine Miss French for myself. Nor," he admitted, "am I a trained psychiatrist."

"Miss French was declared her to be a danger to herself and others by competent medical professionals," Regina put in, smooth as an oil slick.

That meant Hopper, Emma thought. He was the only competent psychiatrist in these parts. He was the only psychiatrist, period. Course, Regina could've called into Boston for someone, or put in a request with the Board of Mental Health or whoever it was that handled this sort of thing at the state level. But Emma didn't think it likely; the Evil Queen liked to keep her cards close to her vest.

"And you said she was headed to the woods? How long ago was that?" Emma asked.

Regina stared her down like it was a challenge before answering. "Since midnight."

Emma looked at Regina, then carefully capped her pen so she didn't stab the woman with it. "Three hours?"

"Two hours and forty-seven minutes, to be precise."

"This dangerous mental patient has been running around for three hours and you only just called the police? If you don't mind me asking — "

"Oh, I'm sure you'll ask anyway, Sheriff."

" — exactly how big of an idiot are you, waiting three goddamn hours to tell the cops about the escape of a, quote, 'dangerous mental patient', unquote?"

Regina arched a single, regal eyebrow. God, Emma hated that look; like she was some Victorian scullery maid who dared to question the lady of the house. "Hospital security was convinced they could recover her on their own. As you can see, they have not. Considering the danger this girl poses to the safety of the citizens of my town, I convinced Dr. Whale and the hospital that it would be in the public's best interest to report this immediately to the proper authorities."

Dr. Whale rolled his eyes and muttered something along the lines of unbelievable.

"Really damn thoughtful of you," Emma bit off.

"The safety of my citizens is my first concern."

"You should put that on your posters for your next election," Ruby suggested with a grin. "Really strikes the right balance between caring and condescension."

Regina didn't even glance over. "Thank you, Miss Lucas, I will take it under consideration."

"That's Acting-Deputy Lucas," Ruby returned, her smile going sharp. "Got a badge and everything. Want to see it?" She started rooting around in one of her pockets.

Emma elbowed Ruby before she could flip Regina off, ignoring Ruby's innocent look, and turned her focus back to Dr. Whale. "I'm going to need to know how many security you have on staff, on and off duty. Then have that nice receptionist out there call in your off-duty boys. Ruby, I want you to call the fire department, see if we can get some of them to volunteer, and anybody else you can wake up and get to lend a hand. Three damn hours, Regina, she could be well on her way to Boston now."

Regina rolled her eyes. "I sincerely doubt that."

Dr. Whale cut in. "As much as it pains me to say this, Mayor Mills is right. Miss French's status as a patient in this hospital aside, I doubt she could have gone far in her present condition. She escaped by deliberately overdosing on her medication, and making a run for it once she had been transferred out of the psychiatric ward for proper treatment. We managed to get some charcoal into her and pump her stomach, so odds are good that she's alive, but she would still be very sick."

"Even if she was well enough to run halfway to Boston," Regina said, "the chances are good that she wouldn't. She has family here, so it is entirely likely that she will stay close to town."

Emma thought, French. "The florist? Moe."

Regina nodded. She didn't even nod normal; it was one gracious incline of the head, queen to commoner. "Mr. French is her father, yes."

"So it's possible she's headed for him. If she's not there already."

"She is not. I informed Mr. French of his daughter's escape at once, and he assured me that if she does attempt to make contact he will inform the authorities."

"That means you."

"Mr. French is an old friend," Regina replied artlessly. "Besides, his only concern is his daughter's health and well-being. He knows she's best off being treated by professionals."

"Right," Emma kept her focus on her notebook, but it was just nonsense now, lines and doodles. She had to keep her hands busy while her mind thought. "Shouldn't you be getting home to Henry? It's late."

"I couldn't possibly think of leaving while that poor girl is out there somewhere," Regina replied. "And Henry will be fine. I called a sitter."

Emma flipped her notebook closed and stuffed in her back pocket. "Ruby, get started on those calls. Doctor? I'm going to need to talk to Walter, or whoever's in charge of security tonight. I need to know where they searched so far."