Chapter 72
Regina only took a bite of her salad now and then, while Henry - without appetite, but hungry - ate his turkey sandwich. The cafeteria was busy at this time of day, so Regina felt she was being watched, even though no one was looking directly in her direction. Surely everyone here had their own worries and problems, which of course she felt sorry for, but she had no room for sympathy at the moment. Emma was dying and Regina's strength was already not enough to cope with that alone. "Henry... What you said back there... Did you mean it?" she wanted to know thoughtfully after a while.
"What exactly do you mean?" her son inquired after swallowing the last bite.
"That Emma will get better." The words almost stuck in her throat. Dr. Heart had said the complete opposite to her, and she trusted the doctor's judgment. Of course, Henry hoped nothing more fervently than that his and her greatest wish would come true: to be able to take Emma home recovered. But wishes did not always come true.
"Of course I meant it," Henry replied naturally, putting down his Coke glass. "Mom... she's the Savior. She's not going to die. You have to trust that everything will be okay in the end."
"But Henry... How is everything going to be okay? She's not going to just magically get better. If that were possible, I would have already mobilized all my powers to heal her. I've even been to Gold. I'm not proud of that, and I rejected his suggestion to use dark magic. But that seems to be the only option as long as she won't let them treat her further." She shook her head in exasperation and her worry line between her brows deepened as she eyed her son. "I understand that you don't want to accept the inevitable. But maybe it's time to do just that and spend Emma's last hours by her side. As a family."
"You really think that?" Henry asked, frowning in surprise. "You want to give up?"
"I don't want to give up, but I also don't want to force Emma to do something she doesn't want to do," Regina offered in exasperation. "We tried to change her mind and it didn't work. Her body can't take anymore and she feels it. It would be cruel to have her treated against her will." Ashamed, she lowered her gaze. After all, that had been exactly what she had asked Emma's doctor to do after her sudden hospitalization. But by now she understood Heart's objections and that Emma's will was absolutely her first priority.
"But if she were getting dialysis, she would have a little more time after all. Maybe she could beat the cancer then," Henry meanwhile meekly suggested. He understood Regina and he understood Emma to a certain extent, but he refused not to at least try everything possible.
A sad smile settled on Regina's lips. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't fight for her, and that makes me incredibly proud."
Henry returned her smile wryly, then rapped his knuckles on the tabletop in thought. "You've barely eaten anything, Mom."
Regina's gaze lowered to her salad, and she reached for her fork again to spear some of the succulent leaves. It was really good for a hospital cafeteria, but in Regina's mouth everything seemed to multiply like papier-mâché. This circumstance didn't improve when Snow and David entered the cafeteria and approached their table, seeing Snow's red, puffy face.
"Can we join you?" she asked in a choked voice, holding David's hand in a vice-like grip.
"Of course," Regina nodded, now finally setting aside her cutlery.
"She's been awake for a while," David explained when they were both seated. "It's hard... She was usually so full of hope and zest for life."
Again, Regina nodded curtly and brushed her hair back. "I really don't want to be rude and just leave you guys sitting here, but I'm uncomfortable with no one being with her for too long," she then explained as she rose from her chair and placed a hand on Snow's shoulder.
"That's okay," Snow responded immediately before she wiped her eyes. "We have to get going again anyway. David's on duty and Ruby can only watch Neal for another hour. We'll just grab a quick bite to eat."
"Then I'll keep you company for a while," Henry offered. He could well imagine that his grandparents could use a little encouragement and his mother usually pulled herself together for his sake when they were with Emma. However, he wanted her to be able to give free rein to her feelings without having to take him into consideration.
Regina paused for a moment, but then nodded. "All right, I'll see you later then. Take care, you two."
"See you soon, Regina," David returned with a smile that was probably meant to be encouraging.
Snow merely squeezed her hand.
The walk to the ICU felt endless each time, while at the same time it was over far too quickly. Her hand trembled as she opened the door; the fear of what awaited her behind it was too great.
But Emma lay almost unchanged in the large bed, her skin pale, her breathing frantic. The only thing that was different were her half-open eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Regina took a seat again in the chair Snow and David had left by the bed and put her fingers around Emma's hand. She had not, however, expected Emma to move her fingers and use them to stroke hers. "Emma?"
"Hmm," she made, turning her head slightly in her direction. Her expression was veiled by exhaustion and medication.
"I love you," Regina groaned out, as if it was the last chance to tell her.
Slowly, Emma nodded. "I... love you too," she brought out with effort and then had to cough, which was a terrible sound.
Regina contorted her face as if it were her own pain and gently stroked her girlfriend's forehead as she lay still in front of her again. "You're so brave," she whispered, barely audible, struggling to hold back her tears.
Emma's lips formed a barely perceptible smile behind the oxygen mask. "I'm... dying," she gasped, and had to close her eyes in exhaustion.
Regina used that moment to furtively wipe a tear from the corner of her eye with her free hand. "Henry disagrees. He's convinced that you're going to be fine," she then brought out with a tiny smile that she wouldn't have believed she was capable of.
At her words, Emma smiled again, too. "He's... a... good boy," she pressed out, which resulted in another coughing fit that didn't subside for a long time. Her lungs seemed to burst and her face turned into a mask of pain. She didn't have the strength to thank Regina when she raised her headboard without being asked.
After a while, the brunette slipped her shoes off her feet and slid into the bed next to Emma so that she could take her weakened body in her arms. She didn't care what the staff thought. She would not spend Emma's last breaths sitting on a plastic chair three feet away from her, just barely reaching her hand.
Emma gave a relaxed sigh and nuzzled her head a little more into the crook of Regina's neck. She didn't have the energy to wonder how her girlfriend had managed to squeeze between the myriad of cables and IV lines without getting it all tangled up, nor did she care. "Hold me," she asked redundantly, since Regina was already doing just that, but it was the only thing that mattered to her at the moment. The thought of her moving away was almost unbearable. "Stay with me."
"Always," Regina whispered, running her hands tenderly over Emma's body. For minutes they just sat there in silence like that, until Regina couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Did I ever tell you about the day Henry was supposed to present his parents' occupations in elementary school?" she asked softly.
Emma had dozed off a little and was now slowly shaking her head.
"It was a pretty hot day, but since I had a town council meeting later and no time to change by then, I wore a long-sleeved blazer and long dark pants. You know I like to look respectable." She shook her head at the thought and grinned. "So, all the kids were talking about all different professions. And then it was Henry's turn. He steps in front of the class, pulls me along with his little hand, and explains, 'My mom's the mayor. She has a lot to do with bills and files and has to take care of complaints from the townspeople. She always has to be dressed all fancy and can't wear anything comfortable airy even in the summer. That's why I don't want to be mayor when I grow up, because you sweat and can't wear sneakers, and it's boring when the citizens are constantly moaning at you. I'd rather be sheriff and chase criminals.' You can't imagine how hard I was laughing on the inside, but of course on the outside I was infinitely embarrassed. He overheard me complaining at home about how everyone always has to whine, and then he made that very point known in front of Snow and the kids." She paused and grinned at the memory.
Emma snorted lightly and let her fingers slide over Regina's thigh.
"It just crossed my mind right now because... I didn't even notice it until now, and of course I couldn't have known it then. He took after you completely with his career choice. And now I think he's more likely to go to college and study literature. How times change..." she mused.
"Yes," Emma only said quietly. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and stared into space. While she had already been thinking about how much of Henry's life she wouldn't get to see for the past few weeks, she hadn't realized how hard this was hitting her until now. She didn't get to think about it any further, as there was a knock at the door at that moment.
Regina paid little attention to it, expecting Henry to join them again. But it was not Henry who appeared in the crack of the door. It was Loraine.
"Hello, you two. I didn't mean to interrupt, please excuse me. I can come back later," the older woman greeted them both when she found them in such intimate togetherness.
"Loraine, what a surprise!" it escaped Regina, sitting up a little further, careful not to hurt Emma with too abrupt movements. "Of course you can stay."
Emma eyed her friend and acknowledged Regina's words with a nod. "Hi," she breathed, allowing Regina to lower her back into her pillows and stand up.
"I'll leave you two alone," she explained quickly. She knew there was something about the two of them that outsiders couldn't understand. There were simply things that, however great the sympathy, could only be understood by people who had been affected themselves. "I'll stick around."
Again, Emma nodded and looked after her girlfriend before giving her attention to Loraine as the door closed again. "How did...?", Emma started, but couldn't finish the sentence, as she lacked breath for more words.
Loraine, however, understood her anyway. "Henry sent me a text," she explained, taking a seat in the orphaned chair. Her movements were more supple and stronger than before, her skin no longer quite so pale, and her eyes radiated not fatigue but a zest for life. The lack of therapy was clearly doing her good.
"You didn't have..." She had to break off and take several deep breaths in and out before continuing. "...to come."
"Yes, I think I had to," Loraine returned seriously. "Emma, what happened? Why did you give up on yourself?"
"I... didn't," she replied, pressing a hand to her aching chest. "My body is... giving up the ghost."
"You stopped all treatments; of course your body is giving up the ghost! Listen: if it's because of my decision, forget about it. You have to fight, do you hear me? Let the doctors treat you. It can't end like this, Emma!" she talked to her in an insistent voice.
Slowly, Emma shook her head. "I can't take it anymore." Her voice was barely a whisper and further muffled by the oxygen mask.
"Yes, you can," Loraine replied insistently, before her expression softened. "Just that brief moment when I entered the room just now was enough for me to realize that you don't want this. You don't want to die, girl."
"Of course I don't!" Emma returned angrily, while a tear ran from the corner of her eye. "Do you think I think... this is nice?"
"No, I don't. But someone who's done with their life doesn't look like you do. You want the pain to finally stop and you're afraid of what the future might bring. Afraid of relapses, permanent damage, late effects. That's your right, and it would be ignorant not to worry about it. You may have accepted in some way that you are mortal, but you have by no means accepted that you will die. You may wish it was the case, but it is not. Your subconscious wants to keep fighting and rebelling against death," she said. "Emma, do you know what I saw in your gaze when I walked in? It wasn't relief or hope for a pain-free time in the afterlife. It was regret. Regret for what you have to leave behind. Henry, Regina, your parents and friends. I have been sick for a long time and have met dozens of other people who became my friends during treatments. Some of them made it, some of them didn't. But the ones who died all had one thing in common: their eyes smiled when it ended. They were glad to finally put their agony behind them. I'm not saying they weren't also sad to leave their loved ones behind. But there comes a time when the longing for redemption becomes overwhelming, and you're nowhere near that point. You don't want to leave." Her brows drew together in concern as she took Emma's hand in both of hers. "You're not there yet, and it's not too late to change your mind."
The single tear was joined by others and soon Emma couldn't hold back her sobs either.
"I know you're scared, child. But your family will be there and hold you during any of the horrible treatments. You don't have to go through this alone. But you have to give yourself another chance. I'm sure you've felt like you're just hanging on for your loved ones for a while now, but you have to do this for yourself now. You want to live and you want to be with them, so fight for it!"
"What if... it doesn't work?" Emma brought out, gasping. "If I continue to get treatment and... get everyone's hopes up, and then..."
"Then everything possible has been tried. Believe me, they can handle it better if the disease beats you than if you consciously decide to surrender. And you're doing this for you, not for others," Loraine countered gently, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I still firmly believe that you will win, just like your son does. You should trust him more," she smirked, her blue eyes surrounded by laugh lines.
The mention of Henry's unwavering optimism almost made Emma sob again, but she held it in and nodded instead. "If it weren't for him, I... would never have... come to Storybrooke."
"He always knew what was best for you, even before he knew you," she smiled before stroking Emma's head and rising. "You should rest now, I've put you through a lot. I'm sorry for that."
"No, you..." Emma shook her head and squeezed Loraine's hand as tightly as she could. "Thank you. For everything."
"I'm glad I found you as a friend," Loraine nodded. "There's nothing to thank."
"Could you..." She broke off and closed her eyes. She couldn't believe what she was about to do. "When you go, could you... send Heart to me, please?" She had to cough and again felt the excess fluid restricting her lung volume. The monitor at her bedside made alarming sounds and her lips turned blue again.
"Take it easy, Emma," Loraine said softly, who straightened her and bent her forward slightly to help her breathe.
"Regina," Emma gasped, although she couldn't get enough air as it was. In her agony, she clung to Loraine's shoulder and looked firmly into her eyes. "I... don't... want... to die!"
"I know. You're not dying, do you hear me?" she said urgently as the nurse on duty came in, having been alerted by Emma's oxygen saturation, which was much too low.
Seeing that it was not a false alarm, she pulled her phone from her coat pocket and in short, concise sentences informed Dr. Heart of the circumstances. She then injected medication into Emma's IV and took Loraine's place, putting Emma in a breath-easing position in her stead.
Heart arrived shortly thereafter and quickly assessed the situation herself.
"I've injected her with 40 milligrams of furosemide and 5 milligrams of morphine," the nurse informed her.
Heart nodded. "Very good. Emma, can you hear me? You'll be breathing better in a minute," she told her patient with her brows drawn together in concern. It wasn't a lie, but there wasn't much they could do to help Emma anymore.
"I want..." Emma didn't finish the sentence, but she knew she absolutely had to before the morphine took full effect.
"Just concentrate on breathing now. Don't talk."
"...treatment," Emma squeezed out with the last of her strength.
"I know. No treatment. We'll just give you medicine to take away the pain and shortness of breath," Heart tried to reassure her further.
"No," Loraine intervened, who had retreated to the corner of the room when the nurse and doctor had arrived so as not to interfere with their work. "She wants to be treated. The whole bit, whatever that entails. We were talking before she had this fit. You have to believe me!"
Doubtingly, the doctor looked from Loraine to Emma. She couldn't really believe her words, since Emma had been very clear about any further treatment that would prolong her life. "Emma, is that right? Do you want to be treated? Do you want us to dialyze you?" she asked her loudly and slowly, to make sure the young woman, in her semi-dazed state, understood her correctly.
Emma only managed a half nod, but forced herself to open her eyes, which kept falling shut, again and looked at her urgently. "Yes!" she finally brought out with the last of her strength. Only when she heard Dr. Heart instructing the nurse to get everything ready for emergency dialysis, thus assuring her that they had understood her correctly, did Emma give in to exhaustion and medication and welcomed the blackness.
Emma woke to the soft hiss of the dialysis machine she already knew and registered warm hands closed around hers. She didn't have to open her eyes to know they belonged to Regina and Henry. A soft sigh escaped her before she still forced herself to open her eyes a little and blink against the brightness that seemed to fry her brain.
"Emma, honey," Regina whispered, making no secret of the fact that she was crying this time.
"Hi," Emma replied weakened, letting her eyes fall shut again. She was relieved to be alive and hoped it would stay that way for a while. "Where is... Loraine?" she whispered after a while.
"She's gone home. Emma, thank you. Thank you for carrying on for us."
"This time I'm... doing this for me," Emma replied, thus repeating Loraine's words, and turned her head in Henry's direction, but without being able to muster the strength to open her eyes again. "Kid? You were... right. It's... not over yet."
"Told you." His relieved grin was evident from his words, even if Emma couldn't see it. Carefully, he leaned over his mother and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I've always believed in you."
"Thank you," Emma whispered before sleep robbed her of her senses again.
