One more short chapter since I should be writing my proposal for class and can't come up with an idea. Keep the comments and ideas coming. They keep me motivated. This chapter is a little dialogue heavy, but all needed to be said.

Emma's patience only lasted a short while as she waited for the test results and peppered David and Mary Margaret with questions about the upcoming wedding, the baby, and why on earth she was just now hearing about it. A few short words with a nurse later, including a moment when she sent Killian to drag a doctor – any doctor – back to her room, she was told that there were no broken bones and no severe injuries to impede her recovery though she would need to stay a bit longer given how long she had been exposed to the elements. A few comments about the unflattering hospital gown and she was in a set of clothes that Ruby went out and bought for her.

"They aren't high fashion, but I gather you're not too concerned with that," the dark haired woman declared. In the plastic bag was a pair of sweat pants with paw prints on the butt and matching sweat shirt with a picture of Snoopy. Ruby stood with hands on her hips and her chin jutted out defiantly.

"What did I do?" Emma asked, holding the fleece outfit out from her body as though it might be contagious.

"You're going to be the maid of honor at the wedding," Ruby said, huffing indignantly. "I wanted to do that, but I can't really say, 'hey choose me and not the chick in the hospital bed.'"

Emma sighed, letting the offending outfit drop to her lap. "I'm sorry, Ruby," she said. "I just got so excited with their news that I didn't think. I guess I never imagined that you would want to be the maid of honor. It's kind of traditional and you're more of a rebel."

Ruby frowned, her red lips pursed delicately and her forehead lined with the effort of the conversation. "It's not the job exactly," she said, scooting onto the foot of the hospital bed. Her long legs did not dangle off the edge like most women, leaving her feet firmly planted on the ground. "It's always been the three of us. You and I would go out and party it up a bit. And you and she would have quiet nights watching movies and eating popcorn. You and Mary Margaret are good friends. I guess I just got jealous that she didn't even pretend like it was a big decision. You were the automatic choice." Her long fingers tugged at the hem of her skirt. "It'll happen again when you get married. She'll be yours. And I'll be on the outside."

Ignoring the comment about her marrying someone – presumably Killian – and focusing on the hurt woman in front of her, Emma's frown matched her friend's. "Ruby, I'm so sorry. Let's talk to Mary Margaret. Maybe we can both…or maybe you can…" The blonde's mind rushed through possibilities for ways to fix the problem. She had not even realized how important it was, even when David had playfully joked that he was considering asking her to be the best man.

"I'm not wanting a pity invitation."

"It's not. I know that Mary Margaret wants you in the wedding. So why don't we end this stupid madness and deal with it. You be her attendant and I'll be David's. That way we both have to be humiliated by bad dresses and standing up in front of everyone while we wear them."

Ruby chortled at the idea of pink taffeta. "You're such a sap. Nobody would believe it, but thank you."

Emma watched her friend for a moment, amazed at the softness and fear on her face. Vulnerable was not a word she associated with Ruby, but that was the perfect one at the moment. "Ruby, you are just as close of a friend to Mary Margaret as I am. You shouldn't doubt that. You and Mary Margaret are like my sisters to me. Well, at least what I imagine what sisters would be like."

Ruby's smile was not quite as dazzling as it usually was, but she managed to lift her chin a bit. "You do realize that none of the three of us have sisters. We're all only children…or at least that is what we assume."

It wasn't something that the three friends tried to discuss or even considered very often, but their lives were remarkably the same for all their differences. Emma had been abandoned at birth. Ruby was raised by her grandmother, having only met her mother one time that she could remember. Mary Margaret's childhood had been a Norman Rockwell painting until her mother had died after a sudden illness and her father followed not long after. The three women lacked true family other than Emma's connections to Ruth and David and Ruby's to Granny. They had created their own family of sorts from their friendship.

"It's not about blood," Ruby was known to say. "It's about the love we have for each other."

Reluctantly, Emma lifted the outfit that Ruby had bought in a passive aggressive snit. She unfurled the soft fleece shirt as if it was a flag and began to tug at the strings of the hospital gown. "Come on," she said. "If you're going to punish me by making me wear this, you can at least help me put it on."

Up to the task, Ruby pulled and prodded until Emma was ready to go. "I thought Killian would be here," she said, throwing the hospital gown on a spare chair as Emma made sure her IV port was covered. "He's always around."

"Work," Emma answered easily. "I can't have everyone stopping their lives because I spun out on some ice."

Ruby thoughtfully adjusted Emma's sleeve. "You must have said something to get him to go. He's a bit attached to you, if you hadn't noticed."

"We're just…"

"Oh I don't want or need a report. You're not Mary Margaret. You're not going to gush and tell me how wonderful he is at everything. I thank you for that. I just…Emma, don't take this the wrong way, but just hear me out. It's obvious that this guy cares a lot about you. I know that scares you. You're probably wondering how or why. Every time a guy shows interest in you beyond a one night stand, you do this. You freak out because you think that there must be something wrong with him or that he's up to something bad. I don't think…"

Emma's pale complexion turned pink. "I'm trying, okay? He might kind of like me. How is that?"

"A huge admission from you," her friend laughed, melting into a warm smile. "And you maybe like him, a little?" Her fingers made a gesture to indicate a small amount.

Emma sighed, wishing that she was on her own couch with a beer in her hand or a glass or wine. This was a conversation she'd rather have in that comfort. But still, it seemed to be a bit much for her at the moment. "If you want me to say I love him, you're not going to hear it. I can't say it. I can't say it to you before I say it to him."

Ruby nodded. "Mary Margaret's probably better to bounce it off of, but I'm going to try. What's the worst that can happen if you tell him? He laughs? He says thank you? He says he loves you too?"

"He runs away and leaves me broken and wishing I was dead?"

The brunette pretended to think about it. "Someday…one day…you're going to realize that people don't always run away. You are lovable, Emma."

Her first reaction was to scoff, pretend that the words her friend said weren't biting at her like an animal attempting to devour a large meal. "Ruby…"

"No," Ruby said more adamantly. She jumped to her feet, pulling Emma up with her. "You are lovable, Emma. And I should have told you that before. You're my friend. My sister, really. I should have told you that you are loveable. Someone should have said you weren't this broken down doll who was meant for a life of loneliness and pain. You're meant for more. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that nobody seems to have made you believe that."

"Ruby, I don't need pep talks." Emma said, shifting on the bed uncomfortably. "We don't have to do this thing where you tell me I'm good enough, smart enough, and…"

"And people like you, I get it," Ruby said with a laugh. "No, Emma, you don't need a pep talk, but you do need someone to remind you that good things happen to good people. You are a good person." Emma looked away, but Ruby was unwilling to let her avoid eye contact and ducked her own lanky form in that direction. "You are. You've overcome the crappiest of childhoods. You fought back to have an awesome career after that jerk left you to be arrested. Your son came back into your life and you've faced that head on. One of the two most powerful men in this town painted a target on your back. You didn't crumble."

"I appreciate the ego boost, but I really want to go see my son," Emma said, looking stern yet blushing at the compliments.

"Just a minute," Ruby insisted. "Emma, I know that you are always expecting the worst to happen. You expect the guy to leave you in jail. You expect people to disappear and abandon you. You expect to be blamed. You expect the worst. All of us do it to some degree, but Emma. Sometimes the worst won't happen. Sometimes good things will happen for you and to you. I think meeting me and Mary Margaret was a good thing. David, Ruth, Granny, Robin, John, Graham…all good things. And Killian seems to be a really good thing for you too. So don't put off or ignore how you feel just because you think that the universe is somehow going to decide that you having a great guy in your life is some cosmic mistake."

Worrying her lip between her teeth, Emma resisted a smile. "When did you get to be so smart?"

"I hide it behind stilettos and impeccable, avant-garde fashion sense," she said with a shrug. "Nothing is more dangerous than a woman you underestimate."

***AAA***

Emma felt like the distance between her room and Henry's room was the deepest chasm she had ever crossed, her feet dragging along the tiled floor in a pair of hospital socks with the rubber soles. She was wearing that awful outfit that Ruby had found her, telling her friend that she would not delay seeing her son any longer over a fashion statement.

Approaching the young boy's room, she could see a small group gathered there through the open door. Regina was sitting in the larger chair by his bed. Even in such a setting she appeared ready to lead a city or large corporation. Holding an iPad, she was scanning through the latest emails and jiggling her foot that hung in midair from the way she had crossed her legs. The chair next to her was empty, but she could see where Robin had left his favorite magazine and would probably be back later after he checked in at work and with his son.

Emma was part way through the door when she saw Neal's sleeping form on the other side of the bed. Using his coat as a blanket, he was sleeping open mouthed with his head toward the wall and some generic picture of a field of flowers that Emma supposed made the room look a bit cheerier. Ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach at seeing Henry's father in the room with him, Emma turned her eyes to her son.

"He's just sleeping," Regina said with a tight and strained tone. "He's…he's just resting."

Emma nodded, standing awkwardly a few feet from the foot of the bed. She wasn't sure if it was on purpose or not, but there seemed to be a line drawn down the center of the room. Birth parents on one side and adoptive family on the other. While she knew she wasn't on par with Regina, the thought of aligning herself with Neal felt even more awkward.

Regina lowered her tablet with a grimace of annoyance playing on her lips. "You seem to be doing better."

Emma's eyes focused on the bandage just beside Henry's temple and the purplish bruise that had formed near the tape holding the IV in place. Though everyone had assured her when she was captive in her room that Henry was fine, Emma wasn't sure that she believed it as his skin seemed as pale as the thin white sheets and the machines monitoring his vital signs hissed and groaned intermittently.

"I'm sorry, Regina," she said, still not taking a step forward or removing her eyes from the child. "I never meant…"

The intake of breath from Regina was harsh as the mayor breathed in through her nose. "I was not planning to blame you for your car skidding on some ice, Ms. Swan. It was an accident. And despite my tendency to see the worst in people and mock their intentions, I have no doubt that you were not planning to send my son and yourself careening off an embankment."

Her fists curling around the too long sleeves of her sweatshirt, Emma gave Regina a small smile. "I'm sorry I didn't do a better job protecting him. I should have…"

Regina shifted in her seat, placing the tablet on the arm to rest. She tilted her head toward the chair that Emma was sure had been Robin's spot. "Have a seat," she said. "Let's go ahead and clear the air here." She waited as Emma wordlessly sat in the vinyl chair and tried to look comfortable. "Did you know that Henry started walking when he was 11 months old? He had been crawling for a little while and one day he just pulled himself up and took off. There wasn't any practice or any warning. He just started trotting around the room as if he had always been able to do it."

Wistfully, Emma glanced back at her sleeping son. She tried to imagine him as a smiling and chubby cheeked toddler. "It was right before the Mining Days celebration and I was in the kitchen making apple tarts for the baking booth. I was proud of him of course, but I was also frustrated that he decided to have this milestone on a day when I was baking, dealing with a broken water main on 10th street, and needed to prepare a proposal for a grant application."

Emma chewed at her lip. "It must be hard being a single mom with all your responsibilities."

"He was always a happy baby. He never cried after the first few weeks unless he really needed something. But that day, Emma, he was wanting all my attention. I snapped at him. I just needed a moment…a break from all the different pressures that were pulling me in 50 different directions." She paused again and waited on Emma to nod in understanding. "I had just turned my back for a minute. It wasn't even a full 60 seconds. I was trying to get the canister of sugar when…when I heard Henry scream. I don't know how he did it but he pulled the towel that was hanging off of the counter and the whole bowl of batter came tumbling down. It missed his head, but the weight of it landed on his foot."

Emma looking worriedly at the mayor, her eyes imploring the woman to continue. "But he was alright? He didn't get too hurt."

"Just bruised, really," Regina said, shooting an affectionate look toward the boy. "His right foot. The doctor said he was fine, but he quit walking for a few more weeks. Must have scared him. It scared me to. See, I had been living my life and fitting Henry into it. I wanted a son, but I wanted my life. I didn't know that I would have to choose a way to balance that. When he was a baby it was easy. He slept. He ate. He cried. I had a nanny taking care of him. I came home and spent an hour or two and then he was asleep. But that day I realized he wasn't just a baby. He was a real little person. And I couldn't ignore my son because of my job or my ego. I had to be both the mayor and a mom."

"I'm sure it was hard," Emma said softly. "I am glad you shared that, but I don't know what that has to do with my driving and losing control on ice."

Regina's laugh was a bit easier than Emma imagined it would be, less condescending and more amused. "It was that day that I realized I wasn't going to be a perfect mom. There's no such thing. And for some reason…whatever reason…you and this state and a social worker decided that I was ready to be Henry's mom because you weren't yet. So now you are having to learn the same lesson. Emma, you're his mother too. And you showed that you do love and care about him. They said you were freezing trying to keep him warm. They said that you insisted that he be taken care of before you. And that, Emma, is part of being a mom. It is something that comes natural to you."

Emma ducked her chin slightly. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I know that we agreed that…"

"We agreed to do what is best for Henry," Regina said. "He wants you around. And I can accept that. I can understand." Her nose wrinkled slightly. "It doesn't mean I like it, Ms. Swan, but I don't want my son to suffer because I'm too selfish. And we both know that would happen. Maybe not yet, but someday. Someday he would come to you just to get away from me."

"I don't want to come between you and Henry. I never meant for this," she pointed at the sleeping child and his biological father, "to happen this way. I was young. I was scared. And I made the best decision I could to give him the best chance at a good future. You stepped up where I couldn't. You shouldn't feel punished for that."

The mayor's blazer covered shoulders lifted toward her ears. "Don't do that. Don't try to make my adopting Henry more than it is supposed to be. I was alone. I wanted a family. I felt that adoption was a good solution for me. It wasn't altruistic in the least."

Henry's arm without the IV was curled back behind his head, his body almost diagonal in the narrow bed. It was the way that Emma was used to sleeping, a tradition she had started back in her foster care days. "I'm not looking to argue with you over whether you did it for selfish or selfless reasons. I think there is truth in both those ideas."

"I'm glad we agree," Regina answered, her stiff responses still indicating her discomfort. "You see, I think maybe I was looking at this the wrong way. I was and am so worried that he would care about you or his father more than me that I wanted to believe it was wrong or bad for you to be in his life. The truth is that it isn't wrong. You and Neal love Henry. And that can only be a good thing."

The two women sat quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Emma who spoke first. "So how do we do this? How do we make this work?"

"I don't know," Regina said with a sigh. "I guess we just see what feels right."

***AAA***

Emma was reluctant to admit that she felt tired after only walking down the hall to the other wing to see Henry, but the exhaustion was evident on her face. Waving off the offer of a wheelchair or other assistance, she dragged herself down the hall and past the nurses' station where she tried to ignore the judgmental looks that were either about her outfit choice or the fact that she had walked and not ridden in the required wheelchair. Retreating to the sanctuary of her room, Emma shook her head at Killian's pointed stare.

"Imagine my surprise to come to see you and find your bed empty," he said, his tongue clicking the roof of his mouth. "You're a patient, love. You shouldn't be traipsing around the hospital like a visitor."

Emma frowned, her arms crossed over the scratchy material of Snoopy embroidered on her chest. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"You're deflecting," he teased further, folding back the covers on the bed she was supposed to occupy. "Come be a good girl and get some rest, love. The doctor might be more willing to see to your release."

If she wasn't so tired, she might have fought harder. As it was, the bed looked almost comfortable. She let him help her into the bed, waiting until he was pulling the cover up over her legs before she grabbed ahold of the back of his head and pulled his mouth down to hers. His gasp of surprise was so adorable that she had to swallow back her own laughter in her efforts to continue the kiss.

He pulled back only a fraction, his eyes darker than normal and his skin flushed from the surprise and the intensity of her gesture. "You aren't acting like you're sick or injured."

"Because I'm fine," she said. "They are just keeping me here to drive me crazy. My leg was caught, but that was mostly my pants and not my actual leg. I was dehydrated and my body temp was low. I'm fine now."

His knuckles brushed over the peak of her cheek bones. "You say that like it's nothing, darling. You forget how worried…"

She silenced him with a finger over his lips. "I'm fine. I…I wasn't going to say something right now, but I think I might as well." His brow knitted together in question as he caught her wrist and kissed the pad of her finger before removing the impediment of his mouth.

"Please continue," he said, lowering himself to the arm of the chair beside the bed with her wrist still in his hand.

"I had some time to think while I was sitting there wondering how I was going to get Henry out of there. I…I was scared that nobody would come in time. But I knew that you and David wouldn't give up."

His lips formed a toothless and tight smile, adding to the slight shake of his head. "I wish I could take credit for that. But it was David who found you. I may have been a bit of a deterrent to the search at times." She looked at him so curiously that he continued. "I became angry at Neal, something that has been building since I first learned of your past with him. I let that boil over and ended up punching him – twice."

"Twice?" she asked, disbelief evident. "You hit him twice?"

"Aye," he said, letting his eyes leave hers as he looked downward. "I could say I was defending your honor, but I doubt you'd believe that. I was merely agitated that he was so cavalier about you and Henry. That said, he proved himself to be quite valuable to the search. I believe I probably owe him an apology, as it was him who thought to use the tracking device to locate you and your boy."

She shook her head, a few of the golden curls freeing themselves from her ponytail. "I'm probably going to need more of an explanation, but for now I'm going to say thank you. Whether you found me yourself or with David's leadership, I'm going to appreciate that you were there." She sighed a bit, even surprising herself with the contentedness as he kissed the back of her hand softly.

"I believe we have gotten off track. You were going to say something before we began throwing credit for your rescue around." He scooted a bit closer. "Would you rather tell me later? You look quite tired."

"I…I want to say this. I need to…" She practically growled as the doorway darkened with the form of a nurse there to check her vitals. Her head fell back against the white pillow. "The universe is conspiring against me."

The nurse's pinched features appeared both concerned and confused by Emma's reaction, but she didn't question the apparent reluctance. Instead she hurriedly completed her tasks, ignoring Killian's friendly tone and Emma's impatience. "Have a good day," she mumbled, wheeling the cart of equipment out of the room and pulling the door three quarters of the way shut.

She could have screamed, as even Killian's amusement seemed to bother her. Trying a technique that Ruth had taught her as a teenager, Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her hands now free since the vital sign check, she picked at the rubbery texture of the Snoopy on the front of her shirt.

"I forgot to compliment your outfit," Killian said, biting the inside of his cheek to avoid the laughter that was imminent. "You look quite young and innocent. I could picture you at some teenage slumber party playing truth or dare."

His argument gained some validity when her response was to stick her tongue out at him. "I don't think I want to say it now."

Running his hand over the lower part of his face did not hide the smile growing behind it. "What?"

"I was…I was going to tell you that I love you too."

She might have been mistaken, but it appeared that he nearly lost his balance on his perched seat. He leaned back, repeating the hand over his mouth and chin gesture at least three times before he spoke. "You do?"

She considered pouting, telling him that she had been mistaken and that it was the adrenalin of being saved and the fear of having not told him when she questioned her own survival. She even considered saying she had changed her mind, but she didn't. She had said it. She could say it again. "I do love you, Killian."

His breath came out of his nose a rush as he blinked twice. "I might not have expected such a confession in a hospital room with you decked out in a cartoon character outfit."

"You'd rather I take it back?"

He shook his head vehemently. "No, my love. I am glad to hear it. I love you too."

***AAA***

David dropped his jacket in the empty chair and took a sweeping glance around his office with a nostalgic eye. He'd already started to pack up some of his personal belongings. There were framed diplomas and certificates, plaques and pictures of him with the governor and other elected officials. None of them would have room at his desk with the other deputies. He had not mentioned it to Mary Margaret yet, but maybe they could find room for some of them at the home they were going to share. It would not be the same, but a wall of fame at home might be a good compromise.

Crossing over to one of the larger framed photos, his hands gently lifted the image off the wall. He and his father stood on either side of a former vice president. There was a look of pride on Spencer Nolan's face, a rare glimpse behind the cold and unaffected veneer. David could remember that night so well. He had invited his father to go as his guest to the fundraiser after Mary Margaret had come down with a cold. His father had actually been impressed with his son's connections and networking skills.

"You know there isn't a hurry about that," Graham said, surprising the sheriff out of his remembering. "I wasn't trying to hone in on your space."

David placed the photograph on a stack of his personal belongings on the table. "It's about to be yours. You don't really need my photos and stuff mucking it up." He reached for another, a photo of him receiving a commendation from Regina. The phone was a clipping from the newspaper, the paper yellowing with age.

"You know you would have won, right? What your father did aside, you would have won." Graham waited until David finally met his eyes. "People love you in this town. I…I decided to run because I needed something in my life that was more than writing speeding tickets and the occasional lost dog. I wanted more, thought I needed more…"

"I dropped out of the race," David said with a ragged breath. "Now the clerk's office may not be thrilled I waited this long, but I am not a candidate any longer. You got the job, Graham. You'll be good at it."

Graham took a step toward the desk and lifted the newspaper clipping of David and Regina. "The clerk called me today to explain that while you were not seeking the office that your name will appear on the ballot. They've already been sent out to absentee voters so they can't change it."

David sighed again, running one hand through his darkly sandy hair as his other rested around the belt of his jeans. "I appreciate the political science lesson, but I'm not interested in continuing in the race. I've dropped out. I'm not a candidate. People know that."

"I just thought that perhaps you would want to reconsider. If enough people realized that you would be willing…"

"No, Graham, no. I'm not interested in changing my mind. I made my decision."

Thoughts? Ideas? Comments? All welcome.