Neal found himself in the hallway staring at the white linoleum flooring that covered much of the surface area of the hospital. How he got there, the widowed father had no idea. Logically, Neal walked out of the room, but at this moment, in his grief-stricken head there was no logic.
"Hey," Mary Margaret whispered. She rested a hand on his arm. When Neal jerked back a little, the mother smiled sadly at him. "It's just me. Did you…did you see her?" Her breath hitched and so she grew quiet.
He glanced at Mary Margaret's tear-stained face and nodded. "Yeah, I did," was all he said. "I saw Lucy, too. She's so small and so pretty like her mama." Neal rubbed his face as tears burned the corners of his eyes. "Can we go?"
It was Mary Margaret's turn to nod. When Neal didn't move, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided the grieving man to the car. Snow even opened the car door for him and attempted to put his seatbelt on.
"I can do it," Neal whispered. He brushed her hand away and snapped his belt on while Mary Margaret put her seat belt on and started the car. While the drove back to the loft, the bereft father leaned against the headrest and looked out the window.
The early morning was clear. The moon shone down on Storybrooke and there were stars out. This didn't feel like a night of death. It should be one where he and Emma lay out, looking for constellations.
"Where's Henry and David?" Neal asked after they'd driven a block. Neither his son nor his father-in-law had been there. David and Emma had been extra close; Neal would have thought the father would have been there.
At the stoplight, Mary Margaret glanced over at Neal. Snow White opened her mouth, but closed it. Then, she tried again. "Henry was asleep. We didn't want to wake him up. David offered to stay. He'd just gotten off work and was tired. Didn't think he should…" Mary Margaret's voice trailed off. She gripped the steering wheel tightly.
So, Henry didn't know. Telling his son that Emma was dead - Neal wasn't looking forward to it. "I'll tell Henry in the morning. He should get one more night of sleep," Neal whispered, drumming his fingers on his knees. "You said she was cooking. Why? Why at 3...4 in the morning?"
"What?" Snow asked in a dazed voice. She sounded confused and distracted. "Oh,um,well she hadn't felt great all day. Emma slept a lot of it. She was hungry. So she was making something for her and David."
That made sense. Of course. Pregnancy was a hard thing to go through. "I should've been here. I should've made the food. If I...if I had," Neal stammered.
"Now you listen to me, Neal Jack Cassidy, your father needed you. Belle needed your help. She could not have taken care of him by herself. Emma wanted you there," Mary Margaret scolded. She pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. "It's not your fault."
Neal shrugged. He didn't feel like arguing. He didn't feel like saying anything. Getting out of the car, he trudged to the building and up to the loft. The door opened without Neal yanking the doorknob.
David was on the other side of the entrance. He was white as a sheet and shaking. His eyes were wide and the front of his shirt was stained red. It appeared David had been cleaning up Emma's blood.
Neal did not have to say anything. Charming seemed to know and Neal found himself in a tight embrace. Neal clung to David as a few tears slipped out. Thank heavens David was holding him up. From the grief and exhaustion, his knees buckled and his just gave out. With eyes rolling back in his head, Neal fell into unconsciousness.