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When David said things were going to get annoying, he certainly wasn't kidding. First on Emma's annoyance list was the fact that her dad wouldn't even let her stand up. "Dad, I'm fine now," she insisted when he gently placed his hands on her shoulders to hold her down.
"Yes, well, forgive me if I don't want to have to watch you hit the ground a second time."
"Technically, I didn't even hit the ground the first time," she grumbled. "You said you caught me before I could."
The exasperated look he gave her in response shut her right up. Which was completely unfair, by the way. The no-nonsense-dad look shouldn't work on her at her age.
All right, fine, she supposed she could stay seated for a few more minutes, however unnecessary a precaution it may be. She wasn't happy about it, though.
Once he was certain that she was in fact going to do as instructed, David pulled out his cell phone. While he made the call, Emma sat in silence and tried to come to terms with how quickly her day had shifted course. In some ways, it was easier fighting fairy tale villains. At least then she knew what to expect, for the most part. She knew to always be on guard, do her research, gear up for the next fight. It was … hell, it was routine.
These quiet days were something else. The biggest dilemma facing her when she walked into the station that morning was whether to order fries or onion rings with her lunch. Now here she sat on the forest floor after passing out from dehydration with an ambulance ride and a visit to the ER in her immediate future.
(Oh God, Dr. Whale better not admit her. She was only going to the hospital at all because David didn't seem like he was offering her a choice. Something told her refusing to stay if they tried to admit her wasn't going to be an option, either. Holy crap, how embarrassing.)
David disconnected the call with the ambulance dispatcher and then proceeded to dial Snow. Emma shut her eyes and let her shoulders slump in resignation as she listened to her dad's side of the conversation. "Hi, Snow. Listen, everything's fine but Emma passed out while we were on patrol and … yes, she's absolutely fine. I'm pretty sure she's dehydrated. Yes, she's awake now." Emma rolled her eyes, causing David to swallow a chuckle. "Yes, I can put her on. Hold on a second."
Her eye-roll reflex in overdrive, Emma snatched the phone from her father's outstretched hand. "I'm fine, Mom. I don't even think I was out more than thirty seconds."
"Oh, Emma, I'm so glad you're all right! Thirty seconds or not, passing out is not a good thing. You just sit tight and listen to your father and I'll meet the two of you at the hospital."
"You don't have to–"
"I'll drop Neal off with Granny and then head over there." Emma sighed. Clearly her mom wasn't offering her a choice, either. "I'll see you in a little bit, sweetheart. I love you."
"Love you, too, Mom." Snow clicked off before Emma could once again try to insist she stay home with her baby brother.
Emma handed the phone back to her father with another sigh. "Mom's going to meet us at the hospital. Apparently she thinks I need an entourage."
"You're her little girl and you're sick," David said gently. "She just wants to take care of you and make sure you're all right."
"I'm not sick."
"I think the loss of consciousness might disagree with you."
"But I'm fine now. You just said so yourself."
David let out a breath through his nose as he sat down beside her on the ground. "You're not fine now, Emma. You're awake and you're better than you were a few minutes ago but you're not fine. You're still dehydrated, probably even more so now because you were sweating when you came to. We still have to get you from here to the toll bridge before we meet up with the ambulance and they still need to replenish your fluids at the hospital. I know you're embarrassed and I know you think we're overreacting and you know what? Maybe we are but if so, we're only reacting like this because we love you."
The lost little girl who still resided within Emma longed to throw her arms around her father at his words. That little girl had spent her entire life waiting to hear those words, waiting to know that she was loved. Every wish she ever sent into the ether, every prayer she made to whoever was listening, she'd wanted parents and a family and someone to care for her, someone to love her.
Emma didn't even realize that a couple of tears had leaked from her eyes until David reached over and dried her cheeks with his thumbs. "Now, why don't you tell me what's really on your mind? I know there's more to this than your being embarrassed."
A few weeks ago, she probably would have insisted that nothing else was on her mind. Now, though … now she had a family who loved her. She had parents who wanted to make sure she was all right. She had a dad who wanted so badly to make her feel better, to set her mind at ease. And so she found herself telling him the truth. "I just … don't want to be a burden."
The words hit David like a sucker punch. He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, clearly able to figure out that somewhere along the line – or maybe everywhere along it – his little girl had been made to feel like a burden when she was ill and needed some TLC. Then he opened them again and turned an insistent, loving, sincere gaze on his daughter. "Emma, listen to me. You are not a burden. Not at all. You're sick and we're going to be there for you while you get better because we love you and because we want to, all right?"
She nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat.
David responded by pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now," he said when he pulled away, the teasing twinkle in his eye letting Emma know that the emotional roller-coaster portion of this conversation was thankfully over, "do you want to call Killian or do you want me to call him?"
"I'll call him," Emma said as she held out her hand for her dad's phone.
"You don't trust me to break the news gently?" David teased, handing over the device. "I'm hurt!"
She wrinkled her nose at him as she scrolled through his contacts. It took her a moment to find Killian's number because he wasn't listed under 'Hook' or 'Killian' but 'Pirate.' "Really, Dad?" she asked, holding the phone up.
"I, um, put his number in there back when you first gave him his phone." The 'when I still didn't really trust him' was implied. "I just haven't changed his contact name yet."
With a shake of her head, Emma edited the contact info to read 'Killian.' Then she touched the call button and waited for her pirate to answer.
A slightly panicked Killian picked up after a ring and a half. "Dave? Is Emma all right?"
"Killian, it's me."
"Swan? Your father's name appeared on my talking phone's window. Is he all right?"
Despite the situation she'd suddenly found herself in, a smile tugged at her lips. His habit of making up alternate names for modern technology was ridiculously endearing. "Yeah, I'm just using his phone. Listen, I have to tell you something."
"This doesn't bode well."
"I promise I'm okay but we were in the woods on what turned out to be a wild goose chase and I passed out. We think I'm dehydrated so when we get out of here, I'm going to go to the hospital to get checked out."
For a long beat, Killian was silent. Then he drew in a shaky breath and said, "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
"All right, love. I'll meet you at the hospital."
Another sigh escaped her lips as she idly wondered what the official capacity of a room at the ER was. The last thing she needed was to have anyone lecture her family on fire codes or something. Still, there was that lost little girl again, jumping up and down at the prospect of being so loved and so cared for and so cherished. "All right, see you in a bit."
She disconnected the call and handed the phone back to her father. "He's coming, too. I hope the hospital is expecting Emma Swan and company."
David chuckled. "I'm sure they are, kiddo. Now all that's left is to get you to the ambulance. Do you want to try standing up now?"
God, did she ever. "Yes, please."
The slight lingering dizziness made attempting to move a slow process. Still, with her dad holding onto her in case she felt faint again, she managed to push herself to her feet. "You feel all right?" he asked when she was standing up straight.
"Yeah," she answered, though she was starting to think she probably should have stayed sitting. Her head was spinning, not in a dizzy, lightheaded way like before but in a kind of tired confusion, like when all the voices in a crowded room faded into an indistinct din. "How far is it to the toll bridge from here?"
"A couple hundred yards, give or take," David answered, his worried eyes running over every inch of her face. "You think you're up for it?"
No, she didn't really think she was but she didn't have much of a choice.
"Emma, look at me." She shifted her gaze over to her father, who smiled gently through his concern. "If you don't think you can make the walk, we can have the paramedics come to us. They'll get to the bridge before we do, anyway."
A shout of their names saved her from making the decision. The paramedics had indeed made it to the bridge before they did and had decided to go looking for their charge. David and Emma shared a relieved smile as David hollered back to let them know where they were on the path.
Two paramedics appeared on the path ahead of them a moment later carrying a collapsed stretcher. They introduced themselves as they opened the stretcher and gently helped Emma onto it. As much as she hated to admit it, it felt wonderful to get off her feet. Her head didn't spin as much and everyone's voices sounded clearer, at any rate.
Once she was situated, the lead paramedic, a young man named Anthony, handed Emma her salvation in the form of a bottle of spring water. It was even still cold! As Emma gulped what might as well have been heaven in a plastic bottle, Anthony, his colleague Kevin, and David pushed the stretcher down the worn path. "Just relax, Sheriff Swan," Anthony assured her. "We'll have you feeling better in no time."