Here it is, the final chapter. Hopefully you all like it. A special thank you to all of my loyal readers and reviewers! Without you I wouldn't have had the encouragement to write the whole thing. You guys are awesome! Now I can focus on my other story, Prince Charmings Daughter, if you haven't read it and you liked this story, check it out! Anyway enjoy, and let me know what you think. Did you see this coming? Thank you again. -Jenn

Chapter 28 - Waking Up

My eyes were closed but I heard the beeping in my room. It was a faint sound that seemed to beep with every passing second, it sounded like a heart monitor.. For some reason, my body hurt, but I didn't know why. I moaned as I tried to move, even opening my eyes hurt.

"Emma?" I heard my mother's voice, but it sounded like it was full of worry. Why was it so damn hard to open my eyes?

"Mom?" I croaked out barely above a whisper, my throat hurt and it was dry.

"David, go get the doctor." Doctor…Did my mom really say that? I tried to open my eyes again, this time I succeeded but everything was blurry. I was able to make out the shape of my father leaving my room.

"Mom?" I tried again. This time it was a little more audible.

"Shh…It's ok, honey. Dad is getting Dr. Whale." I tried to sit up. I felt her hands slip under my arms to help me. Things were starting to become less fuzzy.

"The nurse is paging him," my father said as he reentered the room. "Hey kiddo, you gave us quite a scare there…"

"Scare? What? What happened?" I asked as I looked around the room. I only saw my parents. "Where's? Uh…Where's JC?"

"Emma, honey, you were in a car accident. You've been sedated for a couple of days to let your injuries heal. Doctor Whale will be in soon," my mother explained. I felt her take my hand, the one without the IV needle stuck into it, into hers as she began to rub small circles on the back of it.

"Where's JC?" I asked again. I looked over to my father who put his eyebrows together in confusion.

"Emma, who is JC?" he asked as he reached up to feel my forehead with the back of his hand.

I pushed his hand away from head. "JC…my foster brother… you're nephew? James' son?" I watched as my parents looked at each other. I could tell what they were thinking by the expressions on their faces. How could they not know him?

"Honey, we don't know anyone named JC. James never had a son." It was my turned to look confused. But I just put my head back in frustration and waited for Dr. Whale to arrive. I didn't have to wait long. It was only minutes before he came into my room with my chart in his hands.

"Well, Ms. Swan, welcome back. How are you feeling?" he asked without looked up from the clipboard.

"Like I was hit by a truck," I replied sarcastically.

"Well, no surprise there, since you were hit by a truck." He pulled his pen from his breast pocket and began to write some things down.

"My bug…" I looked to my Dad. That car meant the world to me, I couldn't take the thought of it possibly being totalled.

"Is fine," he answered, "you were in the cruiser."

I reached up and rubbed my eyes. It was beginning to come back to me. "I was going on a call; the guy ran the stop sign." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, you were pretty banged up. A concussion, two broken ribs, and we had to remove your spleen. Some bumps and bruises, but you'll make a full recovery." Whale explained. "If everything checks out, you should be able to go home in a day or two. We certainly do not want to keep you here any longer than necessary."

"Thank you," I said as I watched him leave. I looked to my parents who were now sitting next to my bed. "Sorry to put you through all of that."

"No reason to be sorry, we're just glad that you're ok. It would have killed us if we lost you. You know that right?"

I smiled at my dad's words. "Yeah, I know."

"So, tell us about this JC…" my mother started. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back onto my pillow.

"One question first…" They both nodded, "is King George in the hospital on life support because he shot himself?" I asked.

"Ah…nooo." My father answered slowly dragging out the words. "Emma, where is all of this coming from? JC? King George?"

"I guess it was all a dream." I put my hand up to rub my forehead just above my right eye. My head was killing me. At least the lights were low. But with the concussion, broken ribs, and waking up to find that what my mind thought was real was actually a sedation induced dream I didn't know whether to laugh or cry in frustration.

"A dream? Why don't you tell us about it…" It seemed that I had piqued my mother's curiosity. Or she just wanted to keep me talking so that I didn't fall back to sleep. "I'm guessing that's where JC is coming into play?"

"JC was my foster brother, when I was sixteen. It was the last home that I was placed in before I ran away from the system. I guess I manifested him as my cousin in this dream."

"Well, then," my dad said as he got more comfortable in his chair, "by all means tell us about him and your dream."

I smiled at both of my parents; they were so interested in my dream. And, despite my complete lack of energy to do anything, I was willing to tell them about it. I slowly told them every detail. The conversation was really zapping any energy that I could find, but I told them everything from JC showing up to warn me about Mr. Cooper, to Peter Pan, to resetting an event in time. They sat and listened intently to every word.

"Wow…" my mother commented when I was finished.

"Yeah," my father agreed. "It sounds like your subconscious was doing double duty while your body was trying to heal."

"Mom! You're ok!" Henry shouted as he ran into my room. He came straight to my bed and wrapped me in a hug. I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall. It was 3:15 pm, Henry must have came straight to the hospital after school.

"Yeah, Kid! A little sore, but I'm ok." I replied.

"Be careful, Henry, she's still in a lot pain, she's not completely healed." Ah, my over protective mother. I loved it.

"I'm ok kid, but your gram is right, I'm still pretty sore."

"I'm just glad that you're ok." He said as he settled himself on the foot of my bed.

"I think that seems to be the general consensus around here today." I gave him a smile then looked to my parents. I gave them same smile. "I'll be ok and back to work before you know it."

"Ahem…" I slunk into my bed a little refusing to make eye contact when I heard my father clear his voice. "You will go back to work, when I say you're ready to go back." I knew that was coming, but my stubborn streak took over.

"What?" I decided to argue. "You know as well as I do that there is a ton of work that needs to be done."

"And it can wait until you can at least move without wincing in pain." He stood next to my bed with his arms crossed letting every bit of his parental authority show. "I've had broken ribs, Emma. Every move is going to be excruciating for the next two weeks at least. You are going to need to be on pain meds and that means staying at home and resting."

"Yeah, well, I've had broken ribs before too, and I was able to work through it then, I'll be able to work through it now."

"Before, you weren't living with your father who would have made sure that you followed the Doctor's orders. You are not going back to work until Dr. Whale clears you. End of discussion, Emma." I held my father's stare with my own as I tried to come up with a counter argument. I wasn't ready to give in just yet. I just needed another plan of attack.

"Henry?" I turned the attention to my son when I saw him shift from the corner of my eye, "Are you hungry?"

"No," he answered incorrectly.

"Dad, can you take Henry to get something to eat?" I suggested as I completely ignored my son's response. I thought that if I could get my father to leave for a couple of minutes that would give me enough time to rebuild my argument.

"The kid just said that he wasn't hungry…" my father protested.

"He's a kid; he doesn't know what he wants" or what I wanted for that matter.

"I'll take him," my mother spoke up. She was definitely not the person that I wanted to leave the room. "Come on, Henry. Let's go to the gift shop. We'll see if we can find a magazine or something for your mom while she and grandpa have a little chat." No, no, no; wrong parent was leaving the room.

Henry jumped off of my bed as my mother walked toward him. She put her arm around his shoulders to lead him out of the room, "Is mom in trouble with grandpa?" I heard him ask her.

"Probably," was my mother's only response to the boy. I rolled my eyes (which was a mistake with a concussion) and tried very hard to not look at my father whose paternal stance next to my bed had not changed.

"Am I?" I asked. There was a hint of attitude in my voice as I crossed my arms and still did not look at him.

He didn't answer right away; he just took a deep breath and let it out again. "No, of course not," he finally said as he pulled a chair close to my bed and sat in it. "I just don't want you to unnecessarily set back your recovery because you want to go back to work before your body is ready. Forgive me for looking out for the well being of my only daughter." That was when I finally looked at him, his strong paternal look faded to a concern. How could I argue with him now?

"Thank you," I said as I reached for his hand, "sometimes it's hard for me open myself up to the fact that I have parents who are looking out for me. Hold habits, you know?"

He gave me a smile, and a wink, "I know kiddo."

"And…I think on some subconscious level, I'm trying to make up for my teenage years. You know the arguing and all. Oh wouldn't you have had fun…" I let the mischievous tone creep into the statement.

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." He gently squeezed the hand that he was holding as he pushed a strand of hair from my eyes with the other hand. "You just rest now, okay?"I nodded to his request as I put my head back and closed my eyes. It felt so good to know that I had finally had the life that I had always dreamed of having.

Two days later, I was release from the hospital with explicit instructions to rest, no heavy lifting, and overall listen to my parents. I think Dad coerced Dr. Whale into adding that little stipulation. And after two weeks of going stir crazy in the loft with very over protective parents, I was finally to go back to work on desk duty. But it was okay, things were slowly going back to normal. And as I thought about, I wouldn't have it any other way. I had my mom, my dad, and my son all of whom I loved and they over me unconditionally. Yeah, my life turned out pretty good!