Chapter 49
"So, you're afraid of dividing the family if you make the decision not to have Emma invasively ventilated?", Archie wanted to know, while his steady gaze was on Regina.
"Does that surprise you?" she asked back, shaking her head. "I wouldn't react any differently if someone made a decision for Henry without asking for my opinion. It just feels wrong."
"Then why don't you just talk to them?"
"Because..." Regina broke off, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "I want what's best for Emma, and I know what her parents, especially Snow, would say. They might not understand that I don't want to save Emma at any cost. Of course, the selfish part of me does want that, but it wouldn't be in Emma's best interest, and that's the point."
Archie nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "But surely they'll know that you wouldn't make such a decision anything but easy for you."
"And you think that matters?" Regina leaned forward and propped her arms on her thighs before letting the air escape from her lungs in a burst.
"I want to tell you something now, Regina. You've made immense progress in the last few weeks. When you came to me in November, you were insecure, anxious and struggling with panic attacks. You have come so far since then. Just the thought of having to let go of Emma would have terrified you weeks ago, but now you are able to see the situation through Emma's eyes and view it from diverse angles. That's a big step and should make you proud. If you decide to let Snow and David in on it and they don't want to understand your side of things, explain it to them. Everyone knows that you are the last person who would decide against Emma's life without a valid reason. It's difficult to fight so hard for someone you love. But it's even harder to let that person go." He gave Regina an encouraging smile and pushed his glasses higher on his nose.
"You make it sound like it's a good thing," Regina said in a whisper.
"Nothing good in that sense, but it's an important step for you."
In disbelief, Regina snorted, "Oh yeah?"
Archie nodded. "Absolutely. Remember when you said to me that you had your mother's voice in your head criticizing you and telling you that you couldn't do anything for Emma?"
"How could I forget?" Regina retorted monotonously, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know what that matters now, though."
"Right now, you're doing more for Emma than anyone else. You're considering the possibility of letting her find her peace, no matter what that would mean for yourself. When was the last time you thought about Cora?" he then wanted to know.
Regina hesitated and thought about the question for a while. In the last few weeks, events had just been flying by and she hadn't had any time at all to get into ruminations. "I don't know. It's been a while."
"You see?" he nodded appreciatively. "You're not weak, you're strong. And you can show that when she's not constantly on your mind."
Regina gave a long-drawn-out sigh and ran her fingers through her hair. "Fair enough, Hopper. But I don't feel strong," she countered. "Quite the opposite. I've been waiting 46 hours now for Emma to be responsive, and with every hour that passes, my hope that I'll ever be able to talk to her again dwindles."
"But don't you understand?" Archie slid to the edge of his chair and spread his hands in front of her. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. Despite this unimaginable situation, you sit here in front of me, confident and calm as you've always been known to be, and you find it relatively easy to talk to me about it. This is a success, Regina."
"Is it very bad if I can't be happy about it?" she asked wryly.
Archie shook his head. "Of course it isn't. And I want nothing more right now than for your story to have a happy ending. Don't give up on hope."
Regina managed a wry smile before briefly running her hand over her eyes and then staring at the window, shaking her head. "Unfortunately, I'm predisposed to the fact that my stories never end well."
"Then it's about time that something changes, I'd say," Archie smiled.
Regina became as white as a sheet as her ringing phone suddenly cut the silence and the clinic's number appeared on the display. For a few seconds she just stared at the ringing device in her hands and didn't move.
"You should answer it," Archie finally said cautiously, already guessing who the call was from.
With a fixed gaze, Regina finally answered the call and put her smartphone to her ear. "Mills?"
Archie watched her every movement, but there wasn't much he could analyze.
Regina's expression remained unmoving as she fixed a spot on the wall and silently listened to the caller. "I see. Thank you," she finally said only quietly, while tears came to her eyes and she lowered the cell phone into her lap.
Archie looked at her expectantly.
Regina returned his gaze and swallowed the lump in her throat. "She woke up."
Regina didn't bother to clear her front window of the thin layer of snow that had gathered there since she had entered Archie's office. Instead, she poofed directly to the hospital's main entrance and knocked the snow off her clothes and shoes before crossing the lobby and heading for the elevators. Once she arrived at the ICU, she was immediately granted entry and the nurse on duty helped her put on the required protective clothing of yellow gown and mask that would protect Emma from even more germs.
"Glad you could come right in," Dr. Heart's voice sounded from behind Regina.
"Of course," she nodded immediately and turned to her. "How is she doing?"
"A little better. She is responsive and seems to be getting her bearings. Of course, she's still quite weakened. Unfortunately, I can't give the all-clear yet, but at least she seems to be on the right track," the doctor smiled encouragingly.
Regina nodded again briefly and then could hardly wait to finally see Emma. Completely against her nature, she did not ask any further questions, but pushed open the door of the hospital room and closed it again behind her.
Emma was as pale as ever, but she was no longer being ventilated by the mask, instead only receiving supplemental oxygen through a nasal cannula.
Although Regina moved extra slowly, the gown made rustling noises, causing Emma to open her eyes and look at her.
"Hey," she whispered, and just that one word made her cough and her face contort in pain. "I'm sorry, but..." She had to interrupt herself to take a few deep breaths in an effort. "...yellow doesn't suit you very well."
Regina let out a short sound that was close to a laugh, but tears of relief just ran down her face. "I can deal with that."
Emma nodded and put a hand to her chest, weakened, as she coughed again, the stabbing pain running through her chest. When her breathing had calmed down, she looked deeply into Regina's eyes and slid her hand over the side of the bed towards her.
Tears were still streaming from Regina's eyes as she pulled a chair up to the bed and reached for Emma's hand.
"You're very quiet," Emma pressed out strained, stroking the side of her hand with her thumb.
"I'm too relieved to speak," Regina whispered, drying her tears with a sheet of cellulose from the dispenser on the wall.
Emma's lips twisted into a dull smirk. "It's okay, it's nothing," she whispered, then paused again to take a few breaths. "I'll be fine, you worry too much."
"Worry too much? Emma, you've been unresponsive for two days, Heart required me to make a decision about whether or not to keep you alive artificially!" Regina retorted upset.
"It wasn't necessary," Emma muttered and closed her eyes. The conversation was straining her, and the subject wasn't making it any better.
"It could have, though. And still could be. She didn't say you were out of danger, just that you're a little better right now. I can't decide that, you have to!" she urged her, focusing on her breathing as she realized she was about to lose control.
Emma stroked her slowly again and opened her eyes weakly. "What would you have decided?" she wanted to know, barely audible.
There was a long pause in which Regina looked Emma in the eyes while she returned her gaze. "I probably would have let you go," she then confessed tonelessly.
Nodding without breaking eye contact, Emma squeezed her hand. "See. You know exactly how I would decide." With effort, she took a few more pained breaths and closed her eyes again.
Regina stared with a tense jaw at Emma's exhausted form and held her hand as if she could keep her alive that way. She kept silent because she felt Emma's strength waning as she was no longer able to continue speaking. Besides, she wouldn't have thought of a retort anyway. Emma had just confirmed to her what she had suspected all along: she was physically at the end of her rope and did not want her suffering to be prolonged.
It took only a few minutes before Emma's breaths became shallower and a little calmer, as sleep had caught up with her again.
Regina remained sitting by her bedside for only a few more moments after that before carefully resting Emma's hand on the blanket and then slipping out of the room. As she stepped out into the corridor and disposed of her protective clothing in the trash bag placed there for that purpose, relief and pain were dueling inside her. She hadn't gotten around to asking Emma about what she had wanted in the forest, but her fear was that her girlfriend might have hoped to find peace in the icy, snowy landscape. Regina suppressed a gasp and shook her head. She was only speculating, and she couldn't give those thoughts any room. There were too many real problems she had to take care of. So, her first path led her again to Emma's doctor's office.
"Were you two able to talk?", Heart wanted to know after she offered Regina the chair in front of her desk after her knock.
Slowly, Regina nodded once, briefly. "She's pretty weak."
"Yeah, it's no wonder. The remnants of her immune system are trying to fight off the pathogens, even though her body is already busy keeping the cancer at bay," Heart nodded, setting aside her pen to fold her hands on the table in front of her and look at Regina seriously.
"What about the chemo? Tomorrow would have been the next treatment," Regina inquired.
"We're interrupting that, of course," the doctor replied. "In her current condition, it would only harm Emma more."
"And that's not dangerous? I mean... won't that cause the leukemia to flare up again?"
"I'll be perfectly honest, Regina: Emma wouldn't survive another round of chemo right now." She paused to allow the mayor to process her words. "We're stopping the cycle at this point so she can recover. For now, that sounds worse than it is. I'm more concerned about the infection. It's getting to her badly, and even though we're supporting her with medication, Emma will ultimately have to fight it on her own. This in turn can lead to her cancer gaining strength again. But whatever happens, we'll have to wait and then take appropriate action."
Chewing on her lower lip, Regina stared at a stack of blank notes sitting on Heart's desk. "It's the infection's fault. It's my fault," she finally whispered.
The oncologist shook her head and looked to the nervous relative across from her. "We've already had this conversation, Regina. Without that trip out in the cold, Emma might have lasted two or three days longer, but the outcome would have been the same. You're not to blame. Pneumonia is one of the most common complications of cancer and chemotherapy. When Emma has recovered enough to go home, she will need you more than ever. What she doesn't need is pointless finger-pointing."
Heart's words still ringing in her ears, Regina drove to City Hall shortly after poofing back to her car. She knew from Snow that David was at work and Neal was in kindergarten, so she was pretty sure Snow was continuing to take care of the construction planning.
Emma's mother looked up from the documents in front of her in obvious surprise when Regina entered the office, not expecting to see anyone. "Regina... What are you doing here?" The undertone that resonated in her words clearly showed that she was expecting the worst. "Why aren't you with Emma?"
Sighing, Regina brushed the snow off her boots on the doormat and then lowered herself into a chair. "She's asleep. She regained consciousness today," she then explained without lifting her eyes.
Immediately, Snow's face lit up and tears of relief came to her eyes. "Well, that's great news! David will be completely beside himself and Neal misses his sister so much and..."
"Snow," Regina interrupted her in a serious voice, finally looking up at her. "I said she regained consciousness. It'll be a while before she's well enough to even come home."
"But at least she woke up! That's a good sign, isn't it? Do you have to be negative about everything, Regina?" Snow accused, frowning at her.
"I'm realistic, not negative."
"It comes down to the same thing," Snow nodded, flipping down the laptop screen. "Emma's strong, she can handle it."
"Yeah," Regina nodded, pursing her lips wryly. "She's so strong that Heart stopped the chemo because it would kill her if she didn't. Emma's at the end of her rope, Snow. So, stop these hopeful speeches already, because they're just putting more pressure on her."
"And you call that not being negative?" Snow asked angrily.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Regina stared at her. "Weren't you listening to what I was saying? You're not stupid, Snow. You know what it means if she has to stop treatment."
"Yes, I do," Snow snapped at her as tears now beaded down her cheeks. "Maybe I just want to hope for the best, because the alternative would be to accept that my daughter is dying?! Have you ever thought of that?"
Regina fell silent, looking into her eyes. It had been a long time since she had considered Snow her enemy, but until now she had never felt connected to her in any way. Hearing those words so directly from her now, however, triggered something inside her. "You're right. I am sorry. I really am," she whispered defeatedly, looking down at the floor.
Snow wiped the tears from her face, rounded the desk and stopped in front of Regina. Gently, hesitantly, she put a hand on her shoulder. "I know what you've been through these past few weeks. And I'm overjoyed that Emma has someone like you. You have every right to be angry with me."
"I'm not," Regina objected, looking her in the eye. "There's nothing worse than losing your own child. I should look up to you in admiration. I don't know how you always manage to make something positive out of everything, and I'm obviously a little jealous of that."
"I don't think it will help Emma if we praise each other for our behavior," Snow laughed briefly before her face took on a depressed expression again. "I'm going to keep hoping, and you're going to keep struggling through the harsh realities, and I think that's a good thing."
Hesitantly, Regina nodded briefly and took a deep breath. "I don't even want to fight with you. I want us to get along and pull ourselves together because that's the only way we can help Emma."
Nodding in agreement, Snow squeezed Regina's shoulder, on which her hand still rested.
Wordlessly, Regina enjoyed the quiet moment for a few moments before clearing her throat and standing up. "I have to go now. Henry may already be home and I don't want to keep him waiting. I just wanted to let you know that Emma woke up. You can handle the planning?"
Snow nodded and gestured at the stacks of papers piled on the desk. "The papers and I can handle each other. You make sure Emma and Henry get the attention they need."
"See you, Snow," Regina whispered and left the town hall. After the little talk, she felt a little lighter around the heart, although there was still the fear that Emma would relapse and then the question of life-prolonging measures would come up again. As she pulled into the driveway, she immediately noticed the fresh shoe prints in the snow leading up to the front door, making Henry's presence obvious. "Henry? I'm home!" she immediately called into the foyer after closing the door behind her.
The click of Henry's bedroom door could be heard before he came running down the stairs at a quick pace. "Mom, there you are. Have you been to see Emma? How is she?" he immediately bombarded her with questions.
"Yes, Henry, I was," she nodded, hanging her coat, damp from the snow, to dry before stepping toward him and putting her hands to his cheeks. "She woke up." Despite the still precarious situation Emma was in, she managed a smile.
"Really?" Henry immediately asked enthusiastically before he wrapped his arms around Regina. "I knew she would get better. I just knew it!"
Smiling melancholically, Regina returned the hug and gently stroked his back. "Yes, you kept saying it," she confirmed, briefly running her hand through his hair.
"Can I visit her soon then?" he immediately wanted to know further.
"I think you should be patient for a few more days... She's quite weak and sleeps most of the time," she indicated.
"Are you trying to keep me away from her?" Henry asked suspiciously, arching an eyebrow.
Shaking her head, Regina went to the guest bathroom to wash her hands and then to the kitchen, where she took the food she had prepared the night before out of the refrigerator. "I'm not trying to do that. But I don't think right now either you or she would benefit from a visit while she's still feeling this bad. I was only with her for a few minutes, too," she explained honestly as he followed her into the kitchen. "She'll be a little stronger in a few days, I'm sure."
Henry dropped into his chair at the dining table and propped his head in his palms. "And if she isn't?"
Regina turned to face him, an empty plate in one hand, the spoon she was going to use to scoop the curry onto it in the other. "We'd better not assume that."
"But it's possible, isn't it? That she's not getting better?" Henry's serious hazel eyes scrutinized Regina worriedly.
Taking a deep breath, Regina set her things down on the kitchen counter and took a seat across from Henry. Reaching across the table, she took hold of his hands and looked him in the eye. "That's right, it's possible," she then whispered. "But if that really happens, I promise you, I swear to God, I will personally pick you up from school and get you out of class to take you to Emma."
With a lump in his throat, Henry looked away from her and lightly squeezed one of her hands. "I hope that never happens."
