A/N: Thanks again for the follows and favourites! I really do appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this next installment, I'd really like to hear what you think so if you like it, don't forget to review!
It's supposed to take me nearly 5 hours to get from Boston to Maine. It takes me a little over 4, the bug shakes a few times as the needle on the speedo pushes up to its limits. It's a vaguely familiar route; I'd driven here a handful of times with Regina over the years, returning from college for holidays. So when I finally arrive in Storybrooke it's a distinctive set of turns I take, following the signs, right past the mayoral mansion that Regina grew up in, and eventually into the parking lot opposite the hospital.
It's almost empty, visiting time long over. I sit in the car and stare at the building, a few lights still visible, although much of it is shadowed in the night. I've really not thought this through. First, they might not let me in, I have no idea where Regina is, what floor she's on. So they may just turn me away. Second, I have nowhere to stay, I can try and find a room at the B&B I drove past earlier, but chances are slim at 10 at night in a sleepy little town like this. So with options limited to sleeping in my car or trying to sweet talk my way to Regina's room, it's an easy decision. I guess part of me hopes it's still some huge cruel prank.
Surprisingly, the E.R receptionist is very helpful. I tell her I'm looking for my friend, she asks for her name. Blinks at me for a moment because obviously she knows that's the mayor's daughter. She must deem me trustworthy, because she nods her head once and begins typing. She directs me to the elevator, with instructions to get off on the 5th floor and turn right, and it's the final door. I felt for sure that I would have had to turn on the charm.
The elevator dings, and the light above the door indicates I've reached the 5th floor. The doors open, and I follow the blue arrows to the right. Dermatology is in total darkness as I pass by, out of clinic hours. It's only then that I see the sign, above the double doors right at the end of the corridor. Cancer unit. Cancer. It makes me stop in my tracks. Regina is on the cancer unit. Shit.
It takes me a few minutes to gather myself together, before I take the fifteen or twenty more steps to the doors. There's a semi-circular desk just through the doors where I guess a nurse or somebody normally sits. But it's empty right now. The unit seems to be in a horseshoe shape, with the corridor continuing on past the desk, with a left turn at the end, a quick glance up the aisle to the left reveals someone in baby blue scrubs walking towards me.
He's a tall guy, rocking a handle bar moustache. "Can I help you?" His voice is firm but quiet. I suppose he doesn't want to disturb the people on the ward.
"I'm" My voice starts, but it cracks a little. I clear my throat. "I'm looking for my friend." I explain as he eyes me warily. He reaches the desk and picks up a clipboard behind it looking at the paper attached. "Regina. Regina Mills." I tell him.
His eyes dart from the paper to me, as I say the name aloud. He knows her, the expression on his face changes perceptively. He looks me over again. "You must be Emma." He finally cracks a smile.
And What. The. Fuck. How does he know who I am. "Yeah." I nod. It's my turn to be guarded now.
"Regina's just down the hall." He points down from the way he came. "Last door on the left."
"Thanks." I nod, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket.
"She's probably sleeping." He adds to my hastily retreating back. "But you're welcome to stay."
"Okay." I give him a tight smile over my shoulder and try and make my way to the room.
Knocking lightly on the door before I twist open the handle. I don't want to freak her out if she is awake, but I don't want to wake her up if she isn't. I tentatively step through the doorway. And I can't help but hold my breath. That isn't Regina there in the bed. I mean it is. But it's not the Regina I remember.
She looks so small in the bed, surrounded by machinery and wires. Wires everywhere. This is not the larger than life woman I know. It can't possibly be. I have to step in and close the door I need to get a better look.
Even though she's asleep, I can see the darkened circles around her eyes as if the sockets themselves have enlarged. Her skin looks sallow, and it's painfully obvious from the bright printed silk scarf around her head that she's lost some of her hair. It's all I can do to choke back a sob as I sit deflated in the chair. I'm glad she isn't awake to see my reaction. I'm not sure how I could have hidden it. This can't be Regina can it? How did this happen?
I reach out and take her left hand. Her skin feels so delicate, like paper. Careful not to disturb her I scoot the chair forward, and leave my hand with hers on the bed. As if holding on to her now will make it all better. Or I'll wake up from this freakish dream. It's all I can think of. What else can I do? I don't know what I expected. Actually that's a lie. I expected there to be fireworks. I expected a stand-off. I expected her acid tongue to strike visceral blows. I did not expect this.
I must have been sat there for twenty minutes or so when suddenly she stirred. Her eyes fluttered open. Blinking away the sleep. She blinks at me drowsily a few times before the corners of her mouth tweak up into a smile. "Miss Swan." She says, her voice gets caught, like she needs a drink. "You came." Her eyes close for the briefest of moments. She sees or feels my hand in hers, and I can actually see her physically relax. "I knew you would." She grins, almost triumphant. Her eyes close again. If the situation were even slightly different I'd roll my eyes, snatch my hand away and make some comment about being able to leave again just as quick. Then how right would she be? But I don't, I can't. So instead I sit and watch the woman I've known for the best part of 20 years sleep.