Firstly, I'd like to apologize for the wait on this next chapter. I had no idea how to handle it and address all of the stuff that's going on. I hope this is satisfactory. Secondly, if there's any confusion about the state of the Curse, it's still intact. Emma is the one destined to break it, not Regina. So Regina's kiss only broke the sleeping curse. Lastly, for those of you who missed the little update I made, here's a playlist I made for this story: 8tracks writers-dilemma/are-you-gonna-stay-the-night
Emma stared after the retreating woman, a flurry of emotions storming through her. Why the hell was that woman in her room in the middle of the night? And what the fuck was she doing sitting on top of her? More over, why the hell is she in the hospital? Where is Henry?
Emma collapsed back onto her pillows, feeling weak and confused while her head started throbbing painfully. She fumbled around with her hands until she found the button to page a nurse. She needed answers desperately, and the longer she waited, the more she felt like she was going insane.
Dr Whale and a small herd of nurses showed up in her room almost instantaneously, but the relief she felt was quickly clouded over when she realized that they needed to examine her in a billion different ways before they would tell her what the hell was going on.
Not known for her patience, Emma swatted away a nurse, her temper flaring, despite the weakness that still weighed her down heavily. "Hey, Whale, what's going on? Why am I here?"
A quick nod from him and the nurses backed off immediately. "Emma, tell me, what's today's date?" His voice was light, cleverly masking the implications of the question.
No matter the tone of voice he used, the blonde felt like a stone settled into her stomach. She scrunched up her face in concentration. "Uh... It's August 20th or something, right?"
Whale made a note on the chart he had open in his hands. "What's the last thing that you remember?"
The stone in her stomach gained another thirty pounds. She scrunched up her face again. "I... I remember...leaving work, and I was driving to see someone. And..." She blew a frustrated puff of air from her lips. "That's the last thing I remember."
Whale made another note. "That's just fine, Emma. Don't force your memory."
"Sure, but will you tell me why I'm here? What happened to me?"
A small, sad smile tugged at the corners of Dr Whale's mouth. "Emma, you've been in a coma for about a month now."
"WHAT? What do you mean I've been in a coma!? Did I get in an accident? Did any one else get hurt? Wha-"
Whale silenced her by placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing. "If you keep up the questions, Emma, I'll never get a chance to answer." Her mouth snapped shut. "We received a 9-1-1 from Henry the night of the 21st. You were collapsed and unconscious when we arrived, but all of your vitals were strong and stable."
"H-Henry found me?" Her voice was suddenly small and fearful like a child's.
"He most certainly did."
"Is he...is he okay?"
Whale smiled warmly at his patient. "He's doing just fine. He's been here just about every day to check on you. He's brought you flowers and hounded me like a dog for any changes in your condition."
Emma's lip trembled as hot tears sprung up in her eyes. "Really?" A watery smile broke out on her face as the tears spilled over, endlessly touched at the love he was giving her.
"Why don't you just rest for a little while? I'm going to call Mary Margaret and Henry. I'm sure they will be here in the blink of an eye."
"Thanks. Hey, uh, has Re- Never mind," she mumbled to a curious-looking Whale.
Everyone left except for one nurse who stayed to feed Emma ice chips and continue to monitor her. True to his prediction, it wasn't long before a small flurry of limbs and smiles came barreling into her room. Henry launched himself at her, almost knocking the wind out of his birthmother.
"You're awake! You're awake! I've missed you so much! You're awake!"
"I've missed you too, Kid," the blonde murmured into the top of his head, holding him as tightly as she could - which wasn't very tight considering how weak all of her limbs were. Henry finally broke away, positively beaming with pure, unbridled delight.
Mary Margaret swooped in to give her roommate a gentle hug. "Welcome back, Emma."
"Thanks."
"So can you come home tonight," Henry blurted. Both women smiled at his ever-endearing optimism.
"I wish, Kid. Whale needs to keep me here for a few more days for observations and stuff."
Something clicked in Emma's brain, and she turned her focus to her son, "Hey, d'you think I could talk with Mary Margaret alone for a few minutes?"
"Sure." He gave her another rib-cracking hug before leaving to go sit in the waiting area outside her room, a definite bounce to his step.
"Is something bothering you?" the brunette offered lightly, moving to take the unoccupied chair beside Emma's bed.
"Yeah, why did Henry come here with you? Should he be with his mom?"
Mary Margaret shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and Emma shot her a piercing look. "He's... Well, he's been living with me since you went under."
Emma's jaw dropped. He's been what?"
"You have to understand; Henry suffered a trauma."
"When he found me."
"Yes... And he's convinced that Regina poisoned you. I don't think he could handle living under the same roof as the person he believes to have attempted to murder his birthmother."
"And Regina just let that happen?"
A contemplative frown creased Mary Margaret's forehead. "Surprisingly enough, she did. Not that anyone's seen much of her either." She answered Emma's questioning glance by saying, "She's become really reclusive since you went into your coma. She almost entirely stopped working at the Town Hall, choosing to work from her mansion instead. Barely leaves except to go shopping for necessities." The frown only deepened on Emma's face. "And then she went and got herself-"
"What? She got herself what?"
"I'm sorry, that's not something that I should be talking about. Especially not right now. You need your rest, Emma. We'll stop by tomorrow morning before school starts." Mary Margaret offered an apologetic smile.
Emma gave a noncommittal grunt, slumping back into her bed. She watched her best friend escort her son away, feeling an intense tug in her heart. She burrowed herself down under the blankets, only just noticing how cold she felt. She shivered deeply, balling her body up and rubbing her arms to try and shake the chill that decided to settle itself deeply within her.
Try as she might, the Savior could neither warm up nor sleep. She tossed and turned, comfortable in a position for only a few brief minutes. No matter what, she found that being on her back was acutely uncomfortable, which she attributed to having been lying on it for a whole month.
Every time she tried to sleep, something whispered in her brain telling her not to. Her eyes would slowly drift open, and the blonde would moan in frustration. It would appear that she has a lot of awake time to make up for.
Several times throughout the night a nurse would come in to take her blood pressure, temperature and record her vitals. The first time that happened, she asked the woman who came in for extra blankets. Emma also asked what her temperature was, frowning when she was told that it was completely normal.
The blankets didn't help; she was still shivering when she watched the room grow lighter and lighter with the rising sun. She was leafing through a magazine, trying to distract herself from her growling stomach when one of the nurses entered, carrying a tray.
"Oh yes! Food! I'm starving!"
"Here ya go," she chuckled, placing the tray before her.
The sheriff's face fell when she looked at her meal. "This is all I get?" She stared at the English muffin, ice water and tiny fruit cup.
"Dr Whale doesn't want you to over-do it, so he's starting you out on something light, just to see how the food goes down."
"Can I at least have some coffee? I didn't get any sleep last night. I'm cold as hell, too. Hot coffee would be great."
"You're cold?"
"Freezing. Felt like I've been in a freezer all night. Extra blankets and stuff hasn't helped or anything."
The nurse frowned. "Your chart says that your temperature has been normal all night." She moved forward and placed her forearm against the blonde's brow. She yanked it away almost immediately, a tiny gasp tumbling from her lips. Before Emma could ask what was going on, she felt the long prong of the thermometer being poked between her lips.
"Now that is odd," she said when the device beeped.
"What? What's odd? Am I gonna die?"
"My, you jump to conclusions fast! No, I don't think you're going to die, but you do feel cold as ice, but your temperature still reads normal. I'll notify Dr Whale. In the mean time, eat."
"That's it? You sure I'm not gonna die?"
"Yes, I'm sure you're not going to die. Enjoy your breakfast, and I'll have someone bring you some coffee."
That last bit relaxed Emma a little bit more before she turned her attention to the measly excuse for a meal. It wasn't long after she had finished eating that Dr Whale entered her room. He looked fresh and awake, the exact opposite of how the blonde was feeling.
He glanced down at the contents of her tray. "Don't like apples?"
She looked at the uneaten slices in her fruit cup. "I usually do, but when I think about eating them now, I just feel sick. Weird, huh?"
"It's not all that unusual for people to have sudden shifts in their tastes. I know that I used to hate gin and tonics for the longest times; now, they're my favorite drink."
"I'm more of a Jack 'n Coke kind of person," she says.
"Mm. Anyway, Nurse Peters tells me that you're unusually cold, but your body temperature appears normal?"
As if answering his question, a huge shiver wracked her body, and she nodded in the affirmative. He too jammed a thermometer into her mouth, announces her normal body temperature and then places his arm against her head.
Unlike Nurse Peters, he didn't act as though he had received an electric shock, but the slight hardening of his face was not lost on the blonde. He then poked and prodded around the rest of her body, staying quiet in concentration.
"Well, your body is exhibiting an unusual display of chills, yet still reading a normal body temperature. However, this isn't new."
"What d'you mean?"
"Ever since you were brought in, your body has been cold to the touch. There wasn't a whole lot to do about it, and quite frankly, we didn't know what to do. You were stable, and your temp never changed. The best I can do right now is get you an electric blanket and keep you under close surveillance."
"Brilliant."
"If it's any comfort, Sheriff, your life doesn't appear to be in any danger. Oh, before I forget, I'm going to have to put you through physical therapy as a part of your recovery. Nothing major, but a month of being inactive has left your muscles atrophied. I'm certain you've felt the weakness in your body, and if you tried to walk right now, you would most likely collapse. The physical therapy will correct that."
Emma made another noncommittal grunt, her mind still lingering on what he said about her life not being in danger. Apparently he didn't know that she woke up to find none other than Regina Mills hovering over her. She was no doubt preparing to throttle her in her sleep, finally getting her out of the way once and for all. Emma's stomach twisted at the thought.
It was a dizzying and exhausting several days during the remainder of her hospitalization. It was a blur of tests, questions, visitors, physical therapy, more questions, more tests and some very sleepless nights.
She asked the doctor why she was finding sleep so difficult, and he attributed it to stress, restlessness, and being in an environment that wasn't her home. All of which sounded plausible, but the stubborn sheriff still thought that it was her body making her catch up on a month's worth of wakefulness. The sleeping aids that they had her on only served to give her a few stolen hours of fitful sleep, waking up feeling haunted by dreams that she couldn't remember.
So when the day came for her to be discharged, she waited impatiently for her roommate and son to arrive and escort her home. She still wasn't allowed to drive, and had to walk with the assistance of a cane, something she loathed deeply.
Emma was sitting cross-legged on her bed, dressed in her usual attire that she had her faithful roomie bring to her, tongue poking out between her teeth while she puzzled over a cross word in the paper. She avoided every other ounce of the issue splayed across her lap after one of the nurses showed her the article Sidney wrote about her.
It was utterly saccharine and optimistic, telling of the miracle of the sheriff's awakening after her weeks of unconsciousness, the cause of which was still shrouded in mystery. Honestly, the way he spun that tale, August would have been proud. She felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of her enigmatic friend.
Fortunately, she was spared the discomfort of the path her mind was surely taking her down when she heard the door to her room open. "Mom!"
"Hey, Kid!" She looked at her son, whose face was alight with joy, her eyes tracking from his face to the mess of ribbons fisted in his little hand that led up to some merrily-bobbing balloons.
"Aww, you got me balloons? Ooo! Those are the ones with helium! Have you ever sucked helium from a balloon, Kid?"
He made a face that was a cross between disgust and curiosity. "No. Why would I want to do that? Wouldn't I choke or something?"
"Seriously? You're ten, what kid doesn't know about what helium does to your voice?"
"Mom said that I would suffocate, or get brain damage, or something bad."
Of course Regina would do that. She planned to change his idea about the cheery balloons when they got home, but the teeniest little cough pulled her from her scheming.
"Dr Whale says that you've completed all of the paperwork for your discharge; I think it's time you came home, Emma." Mary Margaret gave her a warm smile.
"You don't have to tell me twice." She abandoned the cross word she was failing miserably at, hopping off of the bed with a little too much zeal. Her legs gave a nasty wobble while she felt her head swim with dizziness. The blonde cupped her forehead in one hand while clutching to the edge of the bed with the other.
Her vision cleared momentarily, revealing two faces shining with worry. "Don't worry, guys. I just stood up too fast. I still get kinda woozy from that. Doc says it'll pass, and it's been getting better."
She scooped up the cane that was resting against the little table beside her bed, leaning on it and making a face. Henry stifled a giggle at the sight of his mom hobbling around on a cane.
"Laugh it up, fuzzball. You'll find yourself floating home." She negated her threat with a conspiratorial smile.
"Can't help it," he says bobbing along side Emma, grinning like a goofball. "Granny's way older than you, and even she doesn't need a cane!"
"Yeah, well, she hasn't been in a coma for a month. I'd like to see just how mobile that old coot is after doing what I did." Another teeny cough came from her left. "Sorry, Mary Margaret."
The drive back to the teacher's little apartment was short and full of Henry's incessant chatter, and Emma was content to let it wash over her. She knew that her roomie could tell that she wasn't in the mood for much of anything too taxing. In fact, Emma could tell that her friend knew she needed a hot meal, an even hotter shower, and good, long sleep.
However, if Mary Margaret had known earlier just how tired the blonde would be, well...she wouldn't have done what she did. Emma hobbled through the door to her home, and her eyes practically bugged out of their sockets.
"WELCOME HOME, EMMA!"
She was nearly blasted off her already unstable feet at the greeting that just broke both of her eardrums. The small main floor was decorated with party ribbons, balloons, confetti and other miscellaneous things. Ruby, Leroy, David, Archie, Michael Tillman, and Sister Astrid were all standing in the apartment, beaming at her.
The smell of sweet, sweet junk food hit Emma first, and her stomach gave her permission to pig out the moment she got to the kitchen where all the goodies were. Unfortunately, access to unbridled amounts of food that wasn't from the hospital was inevitably delayed by the onslaught of hugs and happy wishes; all sentimental things that the poor blonde was certainly unaccustomed to.
Thanks to Mary Margaret, who mouthed the need to be quick and gentle behind Emma's back, the sheriff wasn't kept from her precious feast for too long. Once she had finished receiving a gruff pat and grumbled welcome home from Leroy, she made a beeline right for the goodies, Henry and Mary Margaret following.
She tore off a slice of extra cheesy pizza, already having stuffed a handful of chips into her mouth, and she was about to reach for a beer when she heard a little whisper in her ear.
"Those aren't for you," the brunette said, smiling apologetically.
"Seriously? Then... Why are they here?"
"Those are for our guests."
"Aw, come on, Mary Margaret! I've been in a coma for a month. Don't you think I've earned a drink or two?"
"I think you certainly have, but you're not supposed to have any alcohol with the medications you're taking. Here." She shoved a cold bottle into Emma's free hand.
She looked at the label, and she gave her friend an intense stare of disbelief. "Non-alcoholic beer? Seriously?"
"Hey, take what you can get."
"Great, now I have to deal with Leroy while I'm sober again."
"Oh, I don't think he'll be touching a drop of alcohol tonight, Em."
Emma looked over to the town's resident drunk, and she immediately noticed whom he was talking to. "I suppose he'll want to stay sober to impress the good Sister?"
"Why would he want to impress a nun?" Henry pipes up.
"You'll know when you get older."
"Ugh, I hate it when grown-ups tell me that! I'm ten, after all. I'm not a little kid anymore!"
"To us grown-ups, Kid, you'll always be a little kid. Besides, you're just the one who pointed out that we were the grown-ups without including yourself in the mix. If you wanted to convince me you were old enough, you just lost your chance." Emma gave the boy a challenging smile, and Henry simply scoffed and skulked away in a manner that he most certainly got from his birthmother. Emma watched him fondly as he wandered over to the TV to put on some cartoons.
"He really missed you, you know that, right?" Mary Margaret caught her companion's attention.
"Yeah?"
"He was scared to death when you collapsed in front of him."
"What did you say?"
"I said he was terrified. I mean, what child wouldn't be-"
"No, I mean, you say he saw what happened to me?"
"You didn't know that?" Alarm crossed the brunette's face.
"No. I was told that he found me, not saw everything. He could tell me! Maybe he could help me fill in those blanks!"
"Memory still not back?"
"Nah. Having retrogrand forgetfulness sucks."
"Retrograde amnesia," Mary Margaret politely corrected.
"Yeah, that." Emma took a swig of her not-beer, making a face at the totally wrong taste.
"Still not sleeping much, either?"
"Nope. Doc says it'll probably clear up once I'm back in a familiar place. Sure hope he's right, 'cause I'm tired as shit." Emma snorted humorlessly. "Go figure, eh? Coma for a month, now I can't sleep at all. I know they say that over sleeping messes up your sleep cycle, but I thought it was a load of bull 'til now."
"Well, a few good nights' sleep, and a little more therapy, and you'll feel like yourself again. You'll probably be allowed back to work in a week or so too! I bet you'll be glad for that, right?"
"Oh yeah. Hey, who's doing my job right now, anyway?"
"David filled in as deputy and acting sheriff. He's awfully handsome with that badge and shoulder holster," the brunette sighed, eyeing the man who held her affections.
Emma gave a little cough to bring Mary Margaret back to reality, and she watched with amusement as her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink. "I never pictured him in law enforcement."
"We kind of expected Ruby to take up the position, but her heart really is with Granny and the diner. David kindly stepped up to the plate, and he's been doing a pretty good job in your stead."
"Good. Maybe he'll want to stay as my deputy; I sure could use some help with all of the paperwork. C'mon, let's go talk to everyone else.
Again, for those of you who are interested, here's my Tumblr: writers-dilemma. tumblr. com