There was nothing subtle about a tall blonde sneaking into a patient's room close to six in the morning. Not only did I have to practically crawl, I didn't want to turn on a light and throw Regina into a panic. So I stuck to my shitty vision and trusted my palms to guide me through the under lit room.
I felt the plush covers of Regina's hospital bed, and tried desperately not to accidentally tug on the fleecy material. I glanced around blindly, trailing my hands up the mattress, scavenging for a shoulder or arm. But when there was a person hiding under a mountain of sheets it was difficult to indicate what was...what. I was sure that I had met the middle of her back, insinuating that she must've been on her side facing away from me. So I continued upwards, and eventually met something that I guessed was the ball of her shoulder. But before I could shake her awake, or make any sort of movement or gesture—
"Ms. Swan if that's you—don't even think about it."
My palm retracted from whatever place it had been with urgency. I felt heat rush to the surface of my cheeks, immobilizing any reaction to flee from my tongue. I wasn't sure if I had been the reason she was woken, or she had been laying there listening to me rummage through the room like a blind dog. Either or—I was utterly surprised to hear a response pass by her lips so swiftly and effortlessly.
"My God—Regina, I thought you were asleep." I gasped, holding my palms close to my heaving chest.
I could hear her body shifting under the covers, "Well, if someone came into your room at night grappling every crevice of your body you'd be awake, too dear."
I swept a piece of loose hair behind my ear. There were quiet footsteps sweeping back and forth in the hall setting my nerves on end. I stood in silence for a few passing moments before Regina's voice broke through.
"Are you going to turn on the light, or stand there like-"
"No." I stuttered, immediately cursing at myself for such an odd and rapid response.
"No?" I could practically feel the sarcasm radiating from her words. "What're you doing Emma?" She questioned. I could barely make out a dark silhouette sitting upright in the plush bed.
I broke from the barriers that surrounded me and took a few steps closer. My eyes weren't adjusting well to the dark, so I kept my palms outstretched a few inches in front of me. I stopped taking cautious steps when I felt the silk sheets once more. "I-I'm sneaking you out."
"What?"
"I'm getting you out of here. I mean... not for good - but," I fiddled with my hands, "you said you wanted to go to that boy's funeral. So... I'm taking you."
"Emma - what time is it? What are you talking about?" She snapped through the pitch black darkness. I felt her fingers brush gently against my bicep as if she was searching for me. I calmly lifted my palm and grasped her fragile hand, holding it close to me.
"They won't let you out until you're fully recovered and I give the okay-"
"Then why don't you just give the okay?" She asked, befuddled.
I hesitated, thoroughly examining my next response. It was the truth, but then again - it was something more. "Gina, you're not fully recovered... your foot." I wondered on and on if I was being truthful - or if I was being selfish. I wasn't sure if I wanted her to leave for good, yet.
"Emma, you can lose your job - I won't let you." Regina snapped, her hand slightly unraveling from mine.
I shook my head, my blonde hair falling loosely from my ponytail. "You have no idea, Gina..." I murmured. I realized my mistake, and began to nonchalantly clear my throat. Perfect cover up, am I right?
"What?" She spoke up, and for the second time in less than three minutes - my face rose in temperature. Thank God the lights were off. I could get away with far more and Regina wouldn't try to second guess me without proof of my expressions. My lungs expanded tremendously with air, and after what felt like decades, I finally exhaled.
"Nothing - just listen. We can go to the funeral and be back in no time." I lifted my wrist, expecting a completely visible watch to appear before my green eyes. Still dark, still blind. I inched my wrist closer to my eyes, as if it wouldn't send me cross-eyed. "It's like what - six a.m? Your next checkup would be performed by none other than I, and that's not until nine." I reassured her, along with myself. I wasn't even sure of the exact time. "Come on Gina. Live a little." I teased, a smile spreading upon my lips.
I heard a lazy chuckle emerge from her lungs, "Last time I did that, I almost died by a contraption on wheels."
I gave her palm a small reassuring squeeze, "Don't worry," I giggled, "the only contraption on wheels that you'll be associating with today, is mine - and I'm driving."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
I rolled my eyes, for the sole purpose of just doing it. No reaction would present itself from her, she most likely couldn't see either. We were both two blind bats at the moment, and it made the conversation far more interesting.
"Shut up, and get up." I shook my head, taking my other hand and supporting her elbow. She did as I said, besides the shutting up part. But other than that, I didn't seem to mind. She turned her body to where her legs dangled over the edge of the mattress. Her hands searched endlessly for support from mine.
"Are you going to make me walk with those armpit crushers?" She scoffed, grasping onto my forearm. "Because if you ask me, I'd much rather limp my way out of here."
I sighed, "Unless you want to disrupt the healing process and be stuck here for an extra week, be my guest." My shoulders heaved upwards in a shrug.
"Doesn't seem like that's stopping me from leaving now," her pitch rose, implying a joke. I plopped down next to her, and turned my head to face just more darkness. It was odd expecting to see a face and seeing a large silhouette of a head and shoulders instead.
"Anyways," I dragged on, "on to the more important question." I felt her eyes on me, and not being able to see it for myself made goosebumps rise all over my body. That feeling of vulnerability was something I didn't like to associate with on any day.
"And what's that?"
"You got anything black?"
She seemed to pause, with a subtle chuckle passing through her parted lips. "Oh Emma, trust me. Black, is my color."
-
My lungs had never felt so free and full of air than the moment I took a wobbly step out of that building. It was so tranquil, and the way that the morning sun hit the back of my neck sent chills down my healing spine. Never in my life had I appreciated the world more than that moment. After spending two months in that muggy ass room, I was due for a change in scenery. Little did I know all I had to do was walk outside. And I was sure that my eyes would've fallen out of socket from the amount of light that came pouring in once I exited that dark room of mine. Emma seemed to react the same, keeping one of her palms above her eyes as a shield. All I could do was look down, and focus on not falling on my ass with these crutches.
Emma's other hand always stayed in the middle of my back, as if it was supposed to help me keep my balance. It was only until we made it to her car that she gave me breathing space.
"This... is your contraption on wheels?" I muttered, glaring at the yellow colored hunk of metal.
"Yeah... it's not great, but it works." Her green eyes met mine, and she automatically processed my expression, "C'mon, don't be a debbie downer - it's cute!" She exclaimed opening the passenger side door for me.
"If you call cute a rusted block of foil dipped in yellow paint... then yes, Emma - it's totally cute." I tried to be as snarky as possible, but one corner of my lips dared to curl into a grin.
Emma made her way around to the drivers side, "You know it's cute. Get in."
I didn't complain about the drive, or how long I sat in the same position in that damned passenger seat. I refrained, because without that ugly contraption I wouldn't have gotten to that funeral.
Trees passed, along with houses and the clouds in the sky. I never had the time to sit and enjoy the beauty behind the glass before. It was always business, getting Henry to school, feeding Henry - screaming at someone. Damn, I was a bitch. Not that I wasn't anymore, I was more of a subtle version of myself. One that had been stuck on a stiff mattress that smelled of latex gloves and plastic whilst I ate nothing but a diet of shitty hospital food and crushed ice. It was terrible, but I think I learned to appreciate things far more than usual.
Yeah, I had almost died a thousand times before. Almost executed once, actually - but I never talk about that. This time, though, it felt so different. I couldn't magically heal myself, or run away into a forest of mystical creatures. Or hell, make a deal with Rumpelstiltskin himself.
I was in the real world, with real people. There was no magic here, just life or death. As soon as I had passed that town line and entered the dangers of... here. I was no longer safe in the first place - I let my mind wander far too long and wide. I had never really thought of the fact that this life was so much more different than the places I knew. I always imagined it to be the same, dark and boring. I came to realize though, that it was hectic and there were so many more emotions than I was capable of feeling. I had felt pain before, but this kind of pain was new. It wasn't just physical and emotional. My senses were numb, I was numb.
I was weak now, and I despised the fact. My hard shell had crumbled away and dispersed itself among the air. I was softer, and as we pulled up to that building - I realized just how soft I had become.
"You sure you still wanna do this, Regina?" Emma's voice drew me from my thoughts.
I nodded rapidly, glancing over to her perturbed face. "Yeah, I'm sure." Her eyes left mine as she turned the car into a space with ease. People passed in clumps, other than the rare few who were alone and sobbing. My heart ached with each person that passed by the car. I could see their bloodshot eyes and the tissues that were squeezed in their fists. This was all my fault.
As Emma turned the ignition off, I felt the silence cower over me and consume me wholly. I felt her prying eyes on me, and could sense that she knew I was doubting myself. Who was I kidding? I didn't realize how hard it would be to get out of that car and waltz into a building. Fear caressed my bones, wrapping itself around my heart and brain. Two cars, one death. The images kept flashing in my mind, reminding me of what I had done. Or what I thought I had done. Ha. If only my mother could see me now. If only the town could see me now, weeping over a person I never knew.
But sitting there, seeing those people with her drawn out frowns and sullen eyes - it made me think more of how they left and less of how I did. Emma could see right through my dark eyes and tell exactly what I was thinking. Like there was some book of my life printed out on my forehead.
A warm palm wrapped gently around my wrist pulling me from my daze. It was Emma. Of course it was Emma.
"Let's go." She whispered, giving me a tender grin. I returned one as well, only with less energy. I watched her get out of the car and cross to my side. Her blonde curls bouncing with every step. I grasped onto the bitches they called crutches as she opened my door. In silence she helped me out, and after a few unsteady steps I finally began to get the hang of murdering my armpits. Once again, Emma's hand found the middle of my back like I some sort of escort.
We followed the crowd like we were all one battalion of warriors in black. I felt everyone's eyes on me, the woman with the fucked up foot who can't even walk on her own. I had the lingering thought that maybe, just maybe they had no idea who I was. It was an open funeral anyway - for those who barely even knew him were welcome to walk straight in without hesitation. But I knew better, and so did Emma. That's probably the reason she tried to talk me out of it at first.
Old eyes, new eyes and even young eyes were on me. Stuck like superglue as their minds wheeled around the thought that, 'that was the woman in the crash. She's the reason he's dead.' I couldn't help myself but glance around as if I was a deer in the headlights. I felt Emma's hand grip just a tad tighter as it traveled towards my waist. I took a quick look up at her, each of us catching the other and locking into a stare. She was speaking to me, but through expressions and eyes.
So many damn eyes.
The pavement felt slick, like I could fall at any moment and Lord knows I didn't need anymore attention on myself. We approached the steps, so I instinctively leaned into Emma for some support. Her palms found my waist and my elbow. I had no trust for the hellish walking sticks, completely believing that they'd fail me and send me right back down to the cement. Luckily, they decided to let me live to see another day.
The wooden carved doors were wide open, accepting any visitors whatsoever. The room inside was dimly lit and echoed with calming music. I had no idea what I expected in the first place, but this wasn't it. It was too dull, too sad. There were rows among rows of seats, some empty and some overflowing with people. As soon as I entered, flocks of eyes targeted mine. The tall blonde accompanied by a short brunette that could no longer walk on her two legs anymore. Yeah, that was me and everyone knew. Emma pushed me on wards, and once I veered my attention back to where she was leading me - I knew exactly why.
A dark colored, wooden piece presented itself at the very back of the building. The top half was opened, but we were too far to see what lied inside. I was smart enough to realize that there wasn't some prize, some possession that they were idolizing - it was him. The man that drove the bright magnificent red truck. It used to belong to him, he used to belong to this world before I came into view. We took at least five more steps before I could see the curls of his hair. His hair was brown. I wondered if his eyes were the same.
Five more steps.
His skin was pale, no imperfections. You wouldn't believe me if I told you he had been in a horrific crash just two months ago. I could see his complete upper torso, the suit that he wore fit him quite nicely. Like it was made for him. Of course it was made for him.
A red tie. How ironic.
Emma's fingertips wrapped around my shoulder blade, I could see her blonde hair whipping with her head as she took quick glances at me. She could see him, too. I wondered if she had seem him before - right after the crash. She was a doctor, she was on my case, of course she had.
His lips were a pale pink, downturned. Did I expect to see him smiling? His fingers were laced together on top of his stomach, his fingernails cut short. Is this was a normal person looked like? They were so calm, so rested when they were no longer there. They were no longer a threat to anything, or anyone. I was alive - I was still this threat. This threat to everyone in this room.
He was their brother, their nephew, their son.
Henry.
My breath hitched in my throat. More flashes. His truck was right in front of me, how did I not swerve? How did I not react? Did I see his face before? His hands gripping the wheel, watching me wide-eyed.
I had seen him alive, hadn't I? In his breathing, living flesh. A tighter grip, it was Emma. She always seemed to be the person pulling me from these thoughts. Always.
"Regina." A whisper, just barely. "Regina, are you okay?"
My eyelids fluttered as I was released from my captivity and back into the dim lit funeral I had begged to go to. He was there, just in front of me. But was he dead. My head snapped to look at her, those dazzling green eyes. No response danced upon my lips, so I turned away from the boy. I had seen him, and I wanted to go. I wanted to go home.
"Gina..." Emma murmured. I faced the crowd of men, women... children. As if on cue they all glared back at me with tear swollen eyes. I wasn't going to cry, or scream and lash out like that was my own brother in that casket. I had no emotion - I was numb. Not like the numb you felt when you fell asleep on your arm overnight. It was a numb that had no feeling. Just nothing.
That was when the whispers started. Whether they were real or not, I heard them. Children pointed asking, 'Who's the strange woman with the walking sticks?'. Women leaned over to their husbands or girlfriends and started to whisper secret nothings. Then there were the people that just sat and stared, or kept bawling through the utter silence.
This was the Enchanted Forest. This was the multiple times that I killed without doubt, killed with towns full of people sitting their watching. Their red eyes staring me down, their weapons drawn. But nobody would do anything. Why hadn't they done something? Sometimes I wish they would've. Back there, in that Forest - I was a different numb. An evil numb that couldn't be felt, it was just there.
It was like two photos being switched back and forth, and I couldn't handle it. Worlds were colliding when they weren't supposed to. So I did what I always did best: flee.
I think I walked faster than I ever had before on those damned crutches. I seemed to fly, to the point where they couldn't even catch up. I slipped, tripped and stuttered with my steps. Emma's whispers turned into troubled shouts, but they sounded so far away. Like I was in an endless tunnel, and these people were the walls. Emma was the echo. I was steps away from the door, but my anger was rising steadily. The crutches made too much noise, too much clatter. They slipped and stuttered - so I threw them away. My limp, prominent.
It seemed that the numb feeling only effected parts of my body - or more definitely, my brain. Because with each grueling step I took towards the outside world, my foot seemed to be aching with pain. As if my cast couldn't hold out the dangers of the world, the world that was pricking my foot with needles. I clenched my jaw, inhaling a sharp breath through my teeth.
This was nothing, how could I limp over this? I was the Evil Queen, I endured so much pain I couldn't even feel it anymore. How could I feel this?
I heard the gentle thumps of footsteps advancing towards me. I stumbled down the stairs, maintaining my balance nonetheless. I began to slip on the loose gravel below me, there was no way I could've picked up my pace. I was basically immobilized, like I had always been for the past two months. I wanted to be free. I wanted to get rid of all of these casts, drive back to Storybrooke and see Henry. But this pesky foot had other plans, and slipping on gravel was one of them.
"...Re-gina," Emma stuttered, she wasn't too far behind me. I heard her fragile palms wrapping around the metal crutches, picking them up from the floor. My feet continued to move, but not as quickly as I implied them to.
There was crunching behind my, feet on rocks, and a warm hand barely skimmed on my shoulder. "Regina, please stop-" My body whipped around, almost tumbling to the ground in the process. Emma's fluorescent olive eyes consumed mine, wide in terror and fear. My body leaned to the side, trying to ease any pain I could from my foot. Our lips parted at the same time, glaring at each other soundlessly.
"I-I did that to him," I faltered before I had even realized I spoke. Emma's eyes fluttered, shocked in some sort of way. "I killed him, Emma-" My pitch rose and fell, cracking within my words.
Her thin fingers unraveled from the crutches, letting them fall to the ground in clacks and clanks. As quickly as they let go, her arms were pulling me in. I crumbled, resting into her embrace like a child. Vulnerability wasn't my forte, I felt exposed - but Emma didn't seem to care.
"You didn't kill anyone, Gina-"
"No, Emma - that's where you're wrong." I spat, shaking away from her grasp. "You're so wrong." I muttered. She glared at me in confusion, but I kept my lips sealed. That was the closest I'd ever get to dropping hints - which I shouldn't have done in the first place.
"Let's go sit." Emma nodded.
-
The wooden bench was only yards away from the funeral itself, drawing my attention every few seconds. Emma sat next to me, practically attached to my hip. I shrunk under her fifty yard gaze, and felt my lips tremble with each breath.
"What did you see in there?" Emma's voice came in a whisper. I glanced up to her with tear swollen eyes. There was not a moment in my life where I had felt more under the headlights. That boy residing lifelessly in that building had changed me - more than I believed I could be changed. He made me weak. He made me think that every little thing in the world should be felt, with tremendous heart.
"...Nothing," I muttered, my tongue sweeping over my bottom lip.
Her hands tangled in mine, "That's okay... you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She exhaled, blowing thin strands of hair from her eyes.
The bench creaked under our weight as Emma shifted closer to me. Who knew that was possible. Her shoulder pressed gently into mine, caressing my body in warmth and serenity. The wind swept through my dark locks and filling my lungs with fresh, cold air.
I felt my neck weaken, and my head slowly begin to lean to the side as if on instinct. I gave in, letting my cheek rest on the surprisingly tender shoulder that belonged to Emma. I felt my lips part slightly, "I just want to see Henry." My voice spoke, hoarse but still present.
My gaze traveled back to the dark building who's doors where now closing off to the public. The last of humanity left with their heads down and their shoulders slumped. That boy was officially gone.
"You will, Regina. I promise."
The crosses on the doors seemed to glisten under the sunlight.
-
Her worn out feet dangled over the edge of the mattress. Now that she had the freedom to sit instead of lie down 24/7, she much preferred to sit. Hell, she would probably sleep upright if I wasn't there to say no.
I sat her things next to the bed, just in case she ever needed to get something. Her black attire was folded neatly, as if she hadn't worn it just twenty minutes ago. She had been quite silent on the way back, and I assumed it wasn't because of my terrible looking automobile. So I didn't speak either, there was no need for a conversation when I already knew exactly what she was thinking.
I lifted my wrist, this time I was able to read the clock clearly with no strain. "What did I tell yah, 8:23 a.m." I grinned, glancing up to her relaxed figure. She gazed back at me with a dazed look in her eyes, like she was studying me.
"...Thank you, Emma." I played those words over and over again, on repeat in my mind. Her subtlety was mesmerizing, just like the way her words flowed swiftly from her lips.
I paused, staring deep into her dark eyes, "No need to thank me, Gina." The corners of my lips curled into a grin. After a few moments of undisturbed silence, I broke it. "So, how about a marathon of... Pirates of the Caribbean?" I trailed off.
A chuckle escaped her throat, "Really? Pirates?"
"Yeah... there's something humorous about them." I shrugged, popping in the movie swiftly.
"Aw... does Emma crush on pirates?" Regina rose a brow, teasing.
I shook my head, plopping myself next to her with a gentle hop. The bed shifted, but soon settled with a few creeks here and there. "Funny."
"I know I am, honey. You don't need to remind me." I rolled my eyes, putting a finger to my lips.
"Shut up and watch the movie." I giggled.
"Oh, sorry - didn't mean to tear your puppy dog eyes from the screen."
We both shared a laugh, focusing ourselves on the tiny hospital tv that hung in the corner of the room. I familiar warmth enclosed upon my left shoulder, and following along with it, dark hair sprawled out like waves cascading down my bicep. My green eyes took a rapid glance where they found Regina's gentle head resting carelessly.
My heart fluttered. Of course it fluttered. When did it not? It seemed like that's all it had been doing lately. The only thing it knew how to do.
Ha. If only I had been falling for a pirate - a clumsy, greedy pirate. I wouldn't be in this situation, my heart wouldn't feel like it was about to jump into my throat and I wouldn't be potentially losing my job for a brunette who i've barely known for three months.
Nevertheless, I was here - and I wasn't falling head over heels for a pirate who would call me 'mate' and have a hook for a hand. And I didn't really care all that much. I would take a squeaky hospital bed and an injured brunette over a dirty pirate any day.
( I hope you guys are still enjoying! I'm really happy that I get to write more now, and I actually have the time to write. Keep leaving my feedback, and letting me know if you're actually enjoying this story! MWAAH )