"You're a lucky man," the doctor informed Robin, patting his head. He was now returned to his hospital room after being in surgery for four hours and spending an extra hour in a recovery room. "You're the first person who survived that surgery. But don't get excited," the old man warned, wagging a gnarled finger between Robin's eyes. The motion made Robin queasy. "You could still die in the next forty-eight hours." Rubbing his bearded chin, the man speculated, "It may be that you survive the longest and live through the surgery but…" he tsked then walked off.
Robin wasn't fussed. He didn't care if he lived or died, but it was important to him that he made the most of what life he had.
When the doctor vanished, Emma asked, "Did they put you under?"
Robin pffted. "Well, they gave me these pills…I couldn't feel a thing above my eyebrows…and I kept seeing shooting stars sailing straight at me. I heard them too." He rubbed the pinkish-white patch over the area they'd performed the surgery. It was now all that was on his head. His head felt lopsided without the bandage wrapped around it and the arrow buried inside his cranium.
"How are you?" he asked Emma. She smelled of fresh vomit, her complexion was paler than he remembered, and her eyes had dark rings below them.
"You missed the action!" she trilled, albeit weakly. Raising an unenergetic fist, she made her wrist dance. "I puked nonstop for almost an hour. It stopped about five minutes ago. They gave me a couple of trashcans." With a dry chuckle, she mused, "I haven't eaten that much in a week. I swear I had to puke up my lower intestines."
"Got a bellyache?"
"The size of Texas—er…Arendelle." She blushed.
Robin nodded then winced. "Ooh, this medication I'm on…I almost can't feel a damn thing, but if I arch my head the wrong way, the wound screams as abrasively as if I thrust a cleaver into my skull…"
Sympathetically, Emma murmured, "It's a shame they couldn't give you something that makes it where that doesn't happen."
A horse poked his black muzzle in the open window and whickered. The window was so close to Robin's bed that he reached out and petted the bay between the nostrils. "Forty-eight more hours, then I can leave." Robin thrust his head back so he could stretch his stiff neck. "I hope I don't shrivel up from boredom." Still poring his hand over the velvety softness, he asked, "How's your memory?"
Emma shivered. "Fragile…Is that your horse?"
"I have never seen this beast in my life," Robin affirmed. "I think he belongs to a doctor. He's warm and friendly but not an expensive breed."
"Yeah," Emma remarked, staring at the sea green halter. "He's lacking a jeweled bridle. Robin, can you tell me anymore about Lily?"
The hospital quavered. Emma grabbed the sides of her bed, her green eyes wild. "What's happening?"
"The Queen." The horse pulled his head out of the square opening as they heard a gown swish on the hospital's clean floors.
"Fe fi fo fum. I smell the blood of a hapless traitor."
Emma staggered to her feet. "True Love's Kiss! I'm off to break the spell!"
Robin had no words. "Um. Suit yourself."
The Queen appeared, scowling sinisterly, in the doorway. Dressed only in a patient's gown, Emma threw the covers off her body and launched her arms around Snow White's middle. "Mom, I'm going to save you." She kissed the woman's cheek. Then froze.
At her throat was a steel blade. Blood dripped from her throat to puddle at the nape of her neck.
"Mom?" Snow repeated darkly. Her scowl growing from sinister to menacing. "I'm not your mother. I'm your Queen. Apologize," her hand shook and jaw trembled in fury, "or I will slice your head right off."
Smart woman, that Emma, backtracked. "By 'Mom', I meant 'woman of most importance to this domain'. You are my queen."
Snow growled, "That's better." Standing primly yet with a sour, condescending expression, Snow arched her swanlike neck and gave Emma a thorough look. From the tips of Emma's bare, separated toes, up her naked shins, to the hem of her white hospital gown.
The Queen's gaze traveled up and up and up. Smirking at Emma's pale, sickly complexion, she finally fastened her eyes upon the massive lump on Emma's head, badly hidden under her unwashed blonde tresses. Snow tucked her dagger back in her sleeve.
To herself more than to Emma, Queen Snow sneered, "I doubt Regina is weak enough to hide behind the likes of you." She turned away, her gown swishing on the floor. "Nurse, wipe this blemish from my cheek." She snapped her fingers and arched the spot where Emma had kissed her at a nurse, who scrubbed the kiss off with a paper towl soaked in rubbing alcohol.
Snow's complexion was white as snow with a sheen. She looked healthy and vigorous in contrast to Emma, who looked more sickly in Snow's close proximity because of the easy comparison, though she was not as light as the Queen.
Snow started on her merry way to continue her inspection of the hospital. However, she paused in midstep when Emma muttered to herself with chagrin just loudly enough for Snow and Robin to overhear, "I'm supposed to be the Savior. Surely my magic is more powerful than Isaac's pen." Huffily, she sat on her bed. "Without me, he'd have no story to tell." She reached up to press her knuckle against her throbbing head.
"The Savior?" Queen Snow jerked her head. Turned her neck gracefully. Studied Emma's green eyes with a little frown.
"The Savior," repeated Emma, glistening with hope.
Robin realized he had his chin propped on his hand and was studying the two of them diplomatically. From beneath his eyebrows, he realized he was quite fascinated by Emma. She was…a strange phenomenon like none he'd witnessed before. She made him think of the kind of character who'd be in one of the books he devoured during his free time.
Facing off a queen! Kissing her on the cheek! Glistening with hope!
He'd never met anyone like her anywhere outside of novels.
Disgusted, the Evil Queen sneered, "What are you? The long-lost daughter of the Ogre Slayer?" Emma deflated. "No one in our region needs anyone with that title." She came close to Emma and shoved her nose against Emma's, crouching slightly due to Emma's sitting position. "Why don't you take your scrawny behind…" pointing her finger at the floor, she moved her wrist in a horizontal circle, "back where you came from?"
Feeling Robin's scrutiny, she jerked her neck up and fastened her green eyes upon him. "Who are you?"
Waving respectfully, Robin answered, "Friar Tuck, my Queen. I was just reading my roommate her rites not ten minutes before your arrival. Would you like some hospital food? I didn't finish my last meal, so you are welcome to it." He pointed to the tray that arrived while he was in surgerry. The nurses had left it.
Queen Snow White strode over, gripped the edge of the tray, and tipped it over roughly, throwing it against the nearest wall. "I don't want your cold pancakes or your horrid porridge, you blasphemous fool. Sanctimonious git! Hypocritical rogue! I know your kind," she informed him tightly as she directed an angry smile his way. "You're the kind of man who insists any man who smokes will join Hades in the River of Souls while smoking a plump cigar."
Robin was nonplussed. "It's a pipe, actually."
Snow White blazed up as if she were Hades herself. Steely-lipped, she spat, "Prison for your impudence."
A nurse overheard. "Queen Snow," she curtsied, "he will be dead in forty-eight hours."
Snarling with the viciousness of an angry Chihuahua and baring her teeth, Queen Snow demanded, "Is that so?"
"Yep," the nurse answered easily. "Friar Tuck read the head doctor some rites he didn't like, so he ordered him to be euthanized."
Suddenly sunny as the Pride Lands, Snow White taunted, "You got a fate worse than prison. Death." Cackling, she snapped her fingers and vanished into a fog of black smoke.
"Thank you!" gasped Robin.
The nurse smiled. "I was a single mother. You stole from her, and because of that, I was able to buy food to feed my baby until I could send him to school." She patted Robin's back. "It's the least I could do, and if I get another shot to lie for you," she winked, "I won't miss it.
"Goodness," she continued, "the taxes that woman imposes under the guise of social reform. Unless 'social reform' means adding more gold to her pockets and making her castle grounds bigger. I have a cousin who works at the stables, and she told me they're adding new estates and importing horses from Arendelle. Do you know what it costs to import horses from Arendelle?" she asked, her eyes popping.
"Wow," Robin gushed as the nurse left him alone with Emma. She was settling back against the bed, getting back in a half-lying position. "You sure are brave. Kissing the Queen on the cheek? Priceless! Glad I was able to witness this, it's a memory I will get a good chuckle out of for years to come."
"Oh," Emma blushed humbly, "I'm no Gryffindor."
"Gryff-what?"
"Nothing." Leaning back against her pillows, Emma massaged the center of her temple with her hand clenched and fingers close together. "Me, brave? What about you?"
"Just because I'm brave doesn't mean I can't recognize it in others," Robin pointed out smoothly. "In any case, you and I have different types of bravery."
"Ee-yeah." Dropping her hand to her side and tugging the hospital blanket up to her chest, she muttered, "I get the nostalgic bravery that leads me to do stupid things where I'm lucky I don't land myself in prison." She rubbed the new wound at her throat. It was likely going to scar. Making a face, she felt the dried but sticky blood at the nape of her neck. "You get the gutsy bravery that lands you in the hospital."
Robin held his hands in front of him, palms pointed to his jaw. Shrugging, he murmured, "True, true. In your defense, the Queen was ornery enough to give me a prison sentence. And if she knew my true identity, I'd be beheaded."
"Well, certainly. But…" Emma fell into the nervous laughing of someone who scarcely survived, due to their shameless stupidity. "I called Snow White my mother!"
The two of them fell into hiccuping laughter.
