Sorry for the wait, but until the very end of the chapter, I was having a miserable time getting it out! Enjoy, and don't forget to comment or shoot me questions! It keeps me motivated!
Emma watched Regina walk away for a few seconds, not sure what the hell she was feeling. She closed the door, suddenly aware of the hot tears that tracked their way down her face, and the blonde frowned, wiping them away, unable to account for their presence. She stumbled over to the sofa, feeling new tears replace the ones she just eradicated, so exhausted that she had no strength to bother fighting them either.
Mary Margaret came down, wrapped in a warm robe, short locks tousled from her shower. Emma could practically feel those brown eyes widening in an almost comical fashion once her roommate saw her hunched on the couch, shoulders shaking, sniffling loudly. The brunette rushed to her side.
"Oh Emma! Don't cry, sweetie! Henry will be back, just you wait and see." She wrapped her arm warmly around the blonde's back, and Emma could feel her flinch slightly at the chill she knew Mary Margaret could feel. It didn't take long for her to feel the weight of a warm blanket being draped over her.
"He'll be back. He loves you."
Emma looked at her friend with a confused frown. She hated saying goodbye to the kid, but it's not like she hasn't done that before. No, Henry wasn't the reason she was crying. But, if her son's absence wasn't the cause of her distress, what was? She couldn't tell Mary Margaret, because Emma knew that she would pry, and the sheriff had no strength for emotional interrogations that had no answers.
She felt the looming cloud of defeat creeping over her even though she couldn't tell what battle she had already lost. She wasn't going to tell her roommate that she guessed wrong about the source of her distress, but Emma wasn't going to push her away either. She never really had someone to hold her up when she wasn't strong enough. She never let herself get to that point. Despite the feeling of friendly comfort being really, really weird for Emma, she allowed herself to lean into the brunette, letting the strange sobs wrack her body.
Mary Margaret positioned herself so she could cradle her friend, cooing soft words into her ear, gently stroking Emma's messy tresses. Hurt, conflict, anger and being a little lost were things that the brunette saw on the sheriff many times since her arrival to Storybrooke, but unbridled sadness? Crying? Curling up like a child whose first pet just died? Those were things that she had never seen on Emma before. Quite frankly, it scared her.
Mary Margaret did not know what happened the night of Emma's incident - other than Henry furiously proclaiming that Regina had poisoned her - but she could tell that the blonde wasn't the same woman anymore. Her roommate had only been home for a few hours, but that was all she needed to see the difference.
There was always a burning fire seething within her friend, one that drove her to do things no one would ever dare, one that inspired others around her. Mary Margaret couldn't seem to find it anymore, and the hollow look that haunted those vibrant, green eyes was downright unsettling. She also wasn't sure if it was still because Emma wasn't fully recovered, but she saw the way the woman dragged her feet, the way she seemed slumped over all the time, and the heavy sighs one only uses when extremely exhausted.
Mary Margaret adjusted her strokes to something gentler, having noticed the absence of Emma's muffled sobs, now hearing only occasional sniffles. She considered moving to let her friend stretch out on the couch to get some much-needed rest, but it felt as though the woman was already slipping into unconsciousness. Moving would only disrupt that. Instead, she allowed herself to get a little more comfortable, and it wasn't long before the two were fast asleep, curled up with each other under the worn fleece blanket.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Emma shrieked, slamming upright, slipping off of the couch in her attempt to pummel Mary Margaret.
"Emma! Ouch! Emma... Stop! It's okay!" The brunette had screamed in her retreat to perch on the back of the couch, holding her hands out in defense.
"IF YOU TRY TO LAY ANOTHER FINGER ON ME, I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU," Emma roared into the dark room, her eyes bulging and unseeing.
"Emma, please! There's nothing here! It's just a dream!"
The blonde started slicing her fists through the air, nearly coming into contact with some very solid, or very breakable objects. She was screaming unintelligible things, stumbling, half-crawling on weak legs. Mary Margaret wadded up the nearest blanket and chucked it straight into Emma's face. The blonde stumbled, stunned into silence before falling backwards heavily onto the coffee table.
"Ow! Fuck! What the hell!" Emma groaned loudly, squirming uncomfortably on the little table.
"Emma?" Mary Margaret whispered fearfully.
The sheriff lifted her head, peering blearily over at her roommate. "The hell are you doing crouched on the back of the sofa?" She sat up with another deep groan.
"Er... Trying to get away from you?"
"Get away from me?" The brunette offered her an apologetic smile. "Oh God... I'm so sorry, Mar." The blonde cradled her head in her hands, but suddenly, she was bent over, dry heaving heavily.
Mary Margaret crawled away from her perch, bringing a towel from the kitchen. Emma took the rag to wipe off her chin, mumbling about wanting a glass of water. The brunette wasted no time in getting the desired beverage for her friend. The sheriff moaned in pleasure when the cool liquid slid past her lips.
"You stay right there, keep drinking and I'll be back down in a minute." Mary Margaret heard a responding grunt, and she rushed off up the stairs. Emma clutched at her stomach again, breathing heavily, unsure if she was going to vomit again. She held the glass up to her forehead, reveling in the soothing sensation. The soft sounds of her roommate's feet padding back down reached her several minutes later.
"Feeling any better?"
"A bit... Yeah."
"Come on, Em. Let's get you into your bed. I already made it up, and I put extra blankets down, so you'll be super cozy. I also dug out your flannel pj's, and I can get you some more water when you're all tucked in." She held out her hand, inviting Emma to take it.
Green eyes full of grateful disbelief found her own. "Where were you when I was a kid? I coulda used you in 'mommy-mode.' Bet I would have turned out a little better if you had been my mom," Emma said bitterly into the curtains of hair framing her pale face.
"Better late than never, right? Come on; let's get you upstairs. You'll feel better once you're in your own bed again."
Mary Margaret felt an icy hand land in her own palm, and she gave a gentle tug, hoisting her friend off of the coffee table. The cane lay forgotten near the sofa while the brunette supported the exhausted blonde upstairs for a proper sleep.
Emma's eyelids reluctantly pried open, registering the warm autumn sun with a dispirited groan. She ran cold fingers over her slightly sunken cheeks, hoping that if she burrowed deeper into the many layers of blankets that her kind roomie had provided the night before, she might be able to shake off the cold. It had been more long hours of restless tossing and turning, fading in and out of more nightmares, waking up in cold sweats and the now ever-looming sense of defeat.
A bright pink note left on her nightstand caught the sheriff's sleepy eyes, and she scanned it quickly, smiling at the words scrawled across the paper: Em, I made breakfast for us (french toast! Your favorite!) I brought your medications up to the bathroom, and your physical therapy appointment today is at 12:30. Love, MM
Emma's attention was brought to the cane that Mary Margaret had propped against her nightstand. Fresh pain shot through her heart when she once again thought that she really could have benefitted from the brunette's mothering as a child. She made a mental note to get the woman something nice in gratitude.
The sheriff stretched stiffly when she stood up, noting new soreness from her incident the previous night. She sighed, feeling like normalcy with her body and the overall Zen and confidence that she carried were far in the past. It felt like an age had flown by since she was last pulling shenanigans with Henry, hanging out with Ruby, defending Mary Margaret from being convicted for a murder that was never committed and doing everything in her power to piss off Regina.
She scrubbed her fists over tired eyes, scooping up her cane as she made her way to the bathroom. Her face scrunched in frustration when she noticed the definite tremble that still clung to her long legs. Emma paid as little attention to her reflection as possible when scraping her mane into a messy ponytail and brushing her teeth. However, her eyes immediately found the note stuck to the mirror with directions scribbled down pertaining to the medications she was supposed to be taking. After swallowing a small handful of pills, she padded downstairs, still clad in her flannel pajamas. The smell of bacon hit her, causing her mouth to water instantly, not even realizing just how vacant her stomach felt until that moment.
"Good morning," Mary Margaret said brightly, moving around the little kitchen in a floral apron. "Sit yourself down, I'll get you some coffee and put your plate together."
Emma was slightly thrown off, pausing to stare in disbelief at her roomie. "Good morning to you too. What's with the banquet? What are we celebrating?" She stifled a yawn.
"Nothing. Just thought I'd do something nice. Besides, breakfast is the most important meal of the day."
Emma narrowed her eyes at her while she placed her elbows on the breakfast bar. "Seriously, what's up?"
"Nothing. Is it wrong for me to want to do this? Here." She set a steaming mug of coffee and a plate with two thick slices of french toast - the topmost piece had a smiley face made out of blueberries and sliced strawberries on it - three strips of crisped bacon, and a small serving of scrambled eggs on it before the blonde. The container of syrup soon followed while the kitchen was filled with a deep, bacon-induced moan. Emma's brow furrowed thoughtfully while she took a long sip of her coffee.
"Something up? Did I not put enough sugar in?" the brunette asked, sitting down with her own plate of food.
"Hm? Oh, no, it's not that. It's just... Mar, did you do this because you spent so much time looking after Henry, and now he's gone? I mean, is that why you never thought to take him back to Regina?" Mary Margaret stopped chewing and stared at her plate with a slightly guilty expression. "I'm guessing you left him little notes too? Did you also put smiley faces on his breakfasts?"
"It helped cheer him up," she responded in a small voice. "He...he just missed you so much, Emma. I don't know... Taking care of him just felt natural. Almost as natural as taking care of you does."
Emma choked on a piece of egg. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked between coughs.
"I don't know how to explain it," she said in a rush. "Looking after you feels like something I've done forever. Or, should have been doing. I know, it's really weird, but it's the truth in how I feel." She looked up at perplexed, green eyes. "Don't worry, Em. I'm not going to start trying to put you in diapers, or treat you like a kid or anything."
"Please don't! If I walk around on a cane and wear diapers, well, Henry may as well just call me Grandma."
"Speaking of which, eat up! I have got to get you to your appointment soon."
"You said it was at 12:30, it's only, like, 10."
"No, it's almost 11:30, and you're not even dressed."
"Shit! Seriously? Why didn't you get me up earlier?"
"It's Saturday? You needed it, Emma. You were dead on your feet." Emma's face darkened. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't think..."
"Don't worry about it. I'll hurry up for you."
Emma stumped her way through the hospital to the Recovery Ward without Mary Margaret who decided to use the time to run some errands. Probably more like stalk David Nolan, if Emma knew the woman at all. She shook her head, smiling to herself at the thought, before entering the tiny waiting area.
It was a small space quartered off from the rest of the large room that housed exercise machines, cots, rails and other various equipment and a few isolated rooms. She signed in quickly, and before she even had a chance to sit down, one of the therapists was addressing her.
"Roger will be with you in a little while; he's finishing up with one of his patients right now. But I can start you on the bike for your warm up in the meantime." Emma consented and was led to the small row of stationary bicycles. "I'm going to set the timer for 10 minutes this time, but as always, take it as slowly as you need. And if you feel like you can't stay on for the full 10 minutes, just give someone a holler and we'll get you off."
Emma clambered onto the machine, willing her legs to push the resisting pedals while putting in some earbuds for a distraction. Despite the fact that her muscles were groaning with the effort she was exerting on the bike, she completely ignored all protests, hoping that if she could work herself hard enough, she could warm her body through physical means.
But the minutes ticked by, and despite the slight sheen of sweat glistening on her skin, her heavier breaths and the burning pain in her lower extremities, Emma felt as chilly as ever. Even though she was frustrated with her body, she felt relief nonetheless when the timer on the bike started beeping when her time was up, sighing gratefully.
The blonde climbed off, shaking her legs out while turning to look outside the big windows behind the bikes that overlooked a small courtyard on the hospital grounds. It was a clear, inviting day for autumn in Maine, and she cast a slightly resentful glower at the pale blue sky. It would have been a perfect day for a run, but no, her stupid legs had to turn into floppy noodles while she was in a coma.
While she was scowling deeply at the good weather, Roger's voice met her ears over her music. "It can take quite some time for injuries such as yours to heal. Even though the surface damage is gone, there's still a lot underneath and deep within the tissue that is slow to heal.
"I'm glad to hear that you find the deep tissue massage to be helpful to you, especially with the pain management. So we will continue with that, and you said you were doing your stretches at home as well? Because it's absolutely crucial to getting you back into ship shape. Don't forget to take pain killers as needed, and some nice soaks in hot water should help improve the circulation in the area as well."
Emma made to turn around and greet him while he finished talking with his patient, but she had pushed herself far too hard on the bike. When she swung around, her legs put in a feeble attempt at cooperation before completely giving out. The sheriff went flying, colliding with something rather solid that crashed down with her in the process.
The solid thing let out a little yell before slamming into the ground with her. "Shit! I'm sorry!" Emma said, hoisting herself up onto her elbows to look at the unwitting victim of her own clumsiness. Her eyes widened when they fell upon the woman who was trying to compose herself as graciously on the floor as possible.
"Regina?" Emma was used to the varied people that drifted in and out of the physical therapy office, having already been in and out of it during her days spent at the hospital after waking up. Archie was in regularly for his back, and the rest were mostly older folk dealing with age-related injuries or accidents, and a handful of high schoolers treating sports injuries. But the mayor? She was the last person Emma expected to see there. In fact, she wasn't even aware that the woman had any physical problems. She always seemed so perfectly assembled that the very idea of Regina having any sort of malady seemed almost comical. Emma gawked at her for so long, that she didn't notice the small crowd of employees buzzing around her, asking if she was okay or needed assistance.
"You should close your mouth, Miss Swan. I doubt you'd appreciate the flies that would no doubt swarm around the garbage that usually dribbles out of it." she sneered, looking down at the collapsed sheriff, having already gotten herself up.
"Regina? What are you doing here?" Emma allowed a couple of people to help her to her feet, where she stood unsteadily.
"I hardly think that's any of your business, Sheriff." Regina stared hard at the blonde while she straightened her slightly rumpled trousers.
"Are you hurt? Did something happen to you?"
"Again, also none of your business," Regina replied tersely, but she was struggling to mask her surprise at Emma's aggressive concern.
Some poorly-stifled sniggers pricked at the sheriff's ears. She whipped around, keeping her balance this time to focus narrowed emerald eyes onto a pair of kids filming the whole thing on their cell phones.
"Delete it. Now!" she said menacingly.
"No! It's my property, I can do what I want with it!" one boy snarked.
"Yeah! You can't make us do it!" his friend echoed with a greasy sneer.
A muscle was ticking in Emma's forehead, her temper rising unusually fast.
"Listen, punks, my rep is crap as is. So I couldn't care less what stupid videos are out there of me, but if you think I'm going to let you even try to make a fool out of Regina, you've got another thing coming!" Emma spat each and every word, her fists tightly balled and slowly advanced toward them without knowing. Everyone else stood frozen, unable to speak or react.
"Fucking delete it. Now." She whispered the last word, only a few feet from the two kids.
"Miss Swan!" Regina said sharply. "I will not have my sheriff acting so brashly!"
"Yeah! Police brutality!"
"Yeah! Back off, Cop!"
"Convenient, except that I'm not a cop right now. Haven't taken up the badge up yet." A sinister grin pulled at her lips when she saw their pimply faces pale. "Oops," she said with a shrug that was uncharacteristically threatening.
"Are... Are you serious, lady?"
"If you don't delete your shit now, you'll see just how serious I am, prick!"
"Miss Swan!" Regina's sharp tone finally cut through whatever possessed the sheriff to threaten teenagers, but the blonde's words had done their trick as the two boys frantically tapped at their phones to erase what they filmed only minutes earlier.
"I have no clue what's gotten into you, but if you ever do anything like that again, I can assure you that I will not be lenient with my punishment."
"A thank you would have sufficed, Madame Mayor." Emma was still glaring at the kids, breathing heavily, her whole body rigid.
"You have a disgusting and sick idea of what it means to defend someone's honor. If you could even call it that." She drew air quotes around the word 'defend.'
"Still not hearing a thank you," the blonde said vehemently, continuing to glower at everyone but the mayor.
"Nor will you ever! Look at me!" she firmly grasped Emma's shoulder, turning the woman to face her. The sheriff's crazed eyes widened in horror when she met Regina's iron gaze. "That was a vile display of your crass impulsiveness, and I will not have it here, in my town or anywhere near me! Leave the premises immediately."
"Regina... I... Fuck, I'm sorry-"
"Now. If I have to ask you one more time, so help me I will phone Sheriff Nolan, have him arrest you for disturbing the peace, and throw your insolent self in jail until you've come to your limited array of senses."
Emma snapped her mouth shut. Not a soul in that room could deny the finality and truth to the mayor's words. The blonde would have to be insane to try and contest her again. Instead, her cheeks turned an ashy green while she stumbled out of the Physical Therapy center, not even bothering take her cane as she exited.
Emma briefly considered calling Mary Margaret for a ride, but that idea was immediately rejected. There was no way she'd be able to sit in the car with her friend, trying to explain whatever the hell just happened back there to her. No, she needed to run. She needed to pound all of the confusion out of her body with a hard jog.
Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't be possible for her. After all, Emma collapsed after a ten-minute ride on a bike. However, this wasn't a normal circumstance, and she had a massive dose of adrenaline rushing through her veins, giving her all the strength she needed to run a full marathon.
So Emma Swan ran. She ran to the one place she knew she'd find some answers. She ran to the one person who would talk to her, who would make her feel like she wasn't going completely nuts. Her feet slammed a frantic path to where Henry's Castle used to be, somehow knowing he would be there.
As always, find me on Tumblr at writers-dilemma. tumblr. com