Chapter 63
With her arms folded tightly in front of her chest, Regina stood on her porch two days later, watching the hospital-car-service drivers with wary eyes as they unloaded the gurney with Emma from their car. The wind blew the dark strands of her hair out of place and made goose bumps crawl up her arms, despite the fact that the temperatures had been soaring since the day before and the sun had finally almost completely licked away the snow. All this, however, she hardly noticed, while her heart was pounding wildly with nervousness. Her emotions were fighting a wild duel, already all too familiar to her, between the joy of Emma's homecoming and the fear of not being able to provide for her adequately.
"Hello, Ms. Mills," the drivers greeted her, interrupting her thoughts.
"Good day, come in," Regina returned the greeting, then gave Emma's arm a quick squeeze as she passed, while her girlfriend smiled wryly at her from her reclining position.
"Where do we have to go?" one of the drivers then wanted to know as they entered the foyer.
Immediately Regina hurried ahead. "This way," she explained, directing them to the living room. With an anxious expression on her face, she looked over at Emma.
She stared with a petrified expression at the nursing bed, which had found a place in a corner of the sprawling room, but said nothing.
Regina had wrestled with herself for a long time, wondering whether she should let her in on it in advance or tell her when the time came. A small part of her had probably hoped that Emma would see the need herself, but of course she was fully aware that it was like a punch in the stomach for her.
"Thanks," Emma mumbled as she finally came to rest in the bed with the help of the drivers.
Only then did Regina realize that she had been standing there frozen for quite a while, lost in her thoughts. "Yes, thank you very much," she now interjected and accompanied the two gentlemen to the door. Before entering the living room again, she took a deep breath to prepare herself for the upcoming conversation. With as firm a step as possible, she finally stepped up to Emma and carefully removed her shoes and jacket. They didn't exchange a word as she did so, and Regina was beginning to wonder if she was going to kick her out at any moment when Emma finally said something.
"A nursing bed like for a grandmother, huh?" she whispered, looking up at Regina, who was bending over her to push the pillow further under her back so her neck wouldn't be so compressed. "A little warning would have been nice."
Regina looked at her contritely before her gaze drifted to the floor. She probably would have been able to take it better if Emma had been angry and yelled at her, but her voice just sounded exhausted and disappointed. "I know, I'm sorry," was all she managed to get out, taking a deep breath before taking a seat on the edge of the bed and taking Emma's hand in hers. "How are you feeling now? Are you reasonably comfortable?"
Sighing, Emma closed her eyes for a moment before looking back at her girlfriend. "I'm fine."
"That's not a very convincing answer," Regina observed.
"Regina, what do you want to hear? I'm hurting all over and I'm exhausted. I just can't give you more than 'I'll be fine' right now," she countered as tears welled up in her eyes. She just didn't have the strength to discuss it with Regina, especially when their conversations kept going around in circles, talking about the same topic.
"I know, I just... I want you to be as comfortable as you can be," the brunette confessed, sighing, "You're having a hard time breathing, aren't you?"
"Been better," Emma admitted quietly.
At that moment, Regina was glad that she had at least let her in on the purchase of the portable oxygen machine and now didn't have to explain further as she turned it on and put the nasal cannula on her. "If you want to rest for a while, I'll leave you alone for now and get dinner ready."
Emma didn't answer at first, but concentrated for a while on her breaths, which were now much easier, even if she already couldn't remember what it was like to get enough air effortlessly. "If you have some more time, it would be nice if you stayed for a while before," she finally admitted quietly, looking at her with still tear-blurred eyes.
"Of course I have time," Regina replied softly and slipped her shoes off her feet, then slid into bed next to Emma and took her in her arms. Tenderly, she stroked her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her temple. "It's good to have you here."
"Hmm," was all Emma said, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the scent of Regina's perfume and snuggled against her.
"Emma, I don't want you to take this as an attack, but I think maybe you should talk to Archie," Regina whispered after a while, squeezing her fingers.
Emma's eyes were still red as she looked up at Regina, but she was no longer in acute danger of crying at any moment. "What for? The psychologists at the hospital have already had their way with me, and I know the five stages of dying. I think I'm starting to reach the last one, acceptance, but you're still stuck somewhere between the third and fourth, and that in turn makes me sad."
"This isn't about any stages, Emma. I think it would be important for you to have someone to talk to," Regina explained.
"And you don't want to talk to me?"
"Someone who has experience with this kind of thing," she specified, looking her in the eye. "I'm always there for you and listen to you, you know that. But I'm in psychological treatment myself, so I'm probably not the best choice if you want to be helped."
Sighing, Emma withdrew her hand and shifted a bit in the bed. Since her left arm was just uselessly resting in her lap as she did so, however, she was not very successful in doing so. "I'm not depressed, Regina. No more than usual, anyway. I've accepted that I'm probably going to die very soon, and so should you. The only thing that makes me sad is that you will suffer."
Regina closed her eyes and shook her head, her lips pressed together into a thin line. "I'm sorry, but I'll never accept that. Not while there's still the slightest bit of hope."
"Come on." Emma smiled and put her hand to her cheek. "Hope is what Henry and my parents have. You're being realistic. Do you really believe that? That I'm going to be okay?"
"Anyway, I think it's possible, yes," Regina replied, turning her head and pressing a kiss to Emma's hand. "How's your nausea?"
From the change of subject, Emma knew perfectly well that her girlfriend didn't want to talk about it any further, and she accepted that. She was glad that at least this time she hadn't immediately blocked it out. "Bearable. Either they're just coming out with the really good stuff now, or I'm coping with the chemo significantly better than the previous one." She forced a tight smile before closing her eyes in exhaustion. No matter how well she seemed to be tolerating the treatments this time: Her body had nevertheless been exposed to multiple chemos and radiations again by now, and she felt accordingly.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Regina wanted to know, who was tired of the fact that any help she could give her seemed to consist only of hand-holding.
Emma swallowed and again shifted her position slightly. "Could you maybe bring me a hot-water bottle?" she then asked hesitantly, looking at Regina again. "For my back."
"Of course. You can always tell me that kind of thing right away," she indicated and disappeared into the kitchen.
Emma listened to the sound of the faucet and then the kettle as she kept trying to find a more comfortable position. Despite her initial protest, she had continued to receive regular massages over the past few days and was now glad to have agreed to them, as well as further visits home. Otherwise, she probably wouldn't even know how to lie down anymore. Her face brightened a bit when Regina entered the room again.
Carefully, the brunette helped her onto her side and then placed the hot-water bottle against her lumbar spine before pushing a couple of pillows into her back for her to lean against. "Is that all right?"
"Thank you," Emma nodded and, as the pain eased a bit, closed her eyes with a sigh.
"Then I'll make something to eat now and you call me if you need me, alright?" she asked her girlfriend as she picked up another pillow and rested her broken arm on it.
"Okay," Emma whispered without opening her eyes. She hoped to be able to sleep for a while and be a little less exhausted when she woke up, but unfortunately her experience told her that it would not be the case. Still, she knew she couldn't keep herself awake any longer.
Regina eyed Emma for a while before she leaned forward again and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving the living room. In the kitchen, she immediately devoted herself entirely to lunch; of course, it was already early afternoon, but since Henry wasn't back from school yet anyway, Emma needed some rest first, and she herself didn't care at all how late they ate, she didn't see any problem in that. Contrary to the expectation that she would be completely overwhelmed by Emma's condition, Regina surprisingly felt for once that she had everything under control. It wasn't the first time Emma had come home weakened from treatments, and so far she had even had to worry about how to get her upstairs. At least that problem was now out of the way, even if the price was that Emma felt even more like an invalid. Sighing, Regina closed the cooking pot and placed plates and drinking cups on the table before gathering everything back up and stacking it on a tray. Archie was right about one thing: they shouldn't try to force normalcy where there was none left. Instead, they needed to adapt to situations, even if that meant deciding how to proceed each day.
The ringing of her cell phone snapped Regina out of her thoughts, and to avoid Emma being awakened by the loud tone, she answered the call as quickly as she could without paying attention to the caller. "Yes?"
"Hello, sis," Zelena greeted her. "It's okay, sweetheart," her voice then spoke a bit more muffled with Robin crying in the background.
"Zelena... Don't you want to calm the kid down first?" Regina asked, her face contorting tensely as she could barely understand her sister.
The crying quieted down and a few steps could be heard, with which Zelena moved away from her daughter. "No, because this can't wait. How is Emma?"
"She's... doing fine. According to the circumstances. Why do you ask?", Regina wanted to know suspiciously.
"Listen, I just went to Whale with Robin. She has a flu-like infection," Zelena explained, sighing in frustration. "That shouldn't be a problem, we haven't seen each other in the last few days, but well... I promised you I'd move back in as soon as Emma was discharged, but now I'm afraid I can't help you with her until Robin is fully recovered."
Regina massaged the root of her nose and kept her eyes closed for a moment. "No, that's all right. It's not a problem. The main thing is that she'll be better soon and that we haven't exposed Emma to the virus," she then nodded and checked with a knife to see if the potatoes were already done. "Is she very bad?"
"No, no. A little fever, cough, general malaise... As it always is. I'm so sorry that this is happening now of all times," she affirmed again.
"Zelena, as I said before, don't worry. Your daughter needs you right now and I'm really just glad you didn't have any contact with Emma. We'll be fine. Snow has already offered to help me, too. We're not completely on our own," she told her honestly. "Now go to Robin, I can't stand it when she cries so heartbreakingly."
"Okay, thank you," Zelena said with audible relief in her voice. "And of course, if you need someone to talk to, you can still call anytime."
"Thanks, sis. We'll hear from each other. See you," Regina finally said goodbye.
"Yeah, see you."
Sighing, Regina put her phone back down and then stared ahead for a moment. "So much for adjustment," she muttered, draining the potatoes and then turning them into mash. She then fried a couple of steaks for herself and Henry while she made scrambled eggs for Emma. Not only was this easier for her to chew and swallow, it was also easier to digest.
"Regina?" Emma's weak voice sounded from the living room.
Immediately, the woman addressed was already halfway through the foyer and shortly thereafter at Emma's side.
"I'm sorry to bother you..." she whispered, taking an effortful deep breath in and out.
Regina, however, immediately fended off. "You're not bothering me. What's wrong?"
"I don't feel well at all," Emma admitted, her arm wrapped around her stomach and her lips pale as a sheet.
"Since just now?", Regina wanted to know and carefully sat her up in bed. She held the bucket they always kept within reach in front of Emma's chest.
It took a few seconds before Emma felt up to answering her. "I don't know... At first I slept a little bit, but then I woke up and I was terribly sick," she explained in a shaky voice, clutching the edge of the bucket, but she didn't feel like she was going to throw up. It was more of a sinking grumble in her stomach and a feeling like her head was suddenly filled with absorbent cotton. Everything felt dull and slowed down. "Regina... I'm scared," she whimpered with tears in her eyes.
"Hey, look at me," she begged, putting a hand under her chin. "Don't be scared. I'm right here. I'm sure your blood pressure is too low again, and knowing you, you haven't eaten today either. I'll lay you flat and when you're feeling better, we'll make sure you get something in your stomach, okay?" She had no idea why she mostly functioned in emergency situations, while then collapsing when the world was reasonably okay, but at that moment she was grateful it was that way. Using the bed remote, she flattened Emma's headboard completely and pulled the pillow out of her back to place it under her lower legs instead. Only then did she sit on the edge of the bed and stroke Emma's head reassuringly. "You'll feel better in a minute, you'll see," she said quietly, watching with relief as some color returned to Emma's lips and her breathing slowed. "That's it. Just stay calm." She didn't know how she managed it, but a small smile even appeared on her lips.
Emma fixed her face as if she were the anchor that kept her in the world of the living. She was glad Regina was there to reassure her. Unfortunately, she was pretty sure her circulation had only been half the problem. "Maybe I should talk to Archie after all," she whispered, barely audible, and looked away from her.
Regina didn't question her words, but simply waited to see if she would reveal more.
"I think it was some kind of panic attack," Emma admitted, biting her lip. "Heart warned me that the medication could trigger it, but I guess I didn't expect it to hit me until just now," she murmured.
"Do you have any idea what exactly triggered it?" Regina asked quietly.
"I... When I woke up, I was trying to turn around and I noticed that my feet felt a little numb and tingling..." She broke off and swallowed hard. "I immediately thought about the metastases and that maybe they had gotten bigger."
Regina then knocked Emma's blanket aside and put a hand on her feet. "You're freezing, Emma. Without blood pressure, there's no blood flow either, especially down there. Don't worry about it, it's definitely not from the metastases."
"I'm so stupid," Emma said monotonously, looking down at her feet in the thin socks.
"You're not. I'd freak out too if I suddenly couldn't feel my feet," she assured her, and began rubbing Emma's feet in her hands to get the blood flowing better and bring back the warmth.
Emma closed her eyes and desperately held back her tears. In the past, they had often sat on the sofa in the evening while Regina pampered her with a foot massage. Now every move was aimed only at making her endure her so-called life for a few more minutes.
Regina, too, remained silent as she tried to stimulate blood circulation in Emma's feet, but her gaze kept flickering to Emma's face, which was contorted in physical and emotional pain. "Are you still nauseous?"
"A little," she replied, looking down at herself. "It's better now, you can stop. Thank you." She was so embarrassed that she couldn't return Regina's gaze.
"I'll put on some woolen socks for you and then I'll heat up your food again," Regina then decided and stood up.
"I don't want to eat," Emma muttered defensively, turning her head toward the wall.
"I'm not going to let that stand," Regina countered, sighing softly and leaving the living room. In the foyer, she ran into Henry, who had just arrived. "Hello, Henry," she greeted him in a warm voice and gave him a quick hug. "Lunch is ready. We're eating in the living room today."
"Hey, Mom," he greeted her too and then nodded before going upstairs to wash his hands and change. He didn't have to ask why they were eating in the living room; he hadn't expected Emma to be able to sit upright at the table for so long. Even in the last few days in the hospital, he had noticed that she hardly moved. At first he had thought she was in pain, but then he had been there when a nurse had come into the room and brought her her food. It was only when the nurse helped Emma slide up in bed that he realized she simply lacked the strength to do it herself.
While Regina was fixing the food and Henry was upstairs, Emma was somehow trying to regain her composure. She had to eat when her son was around, or he would worry even more than he already did. But her mood was incredibly depressed, she was still sick to her stomach, and she already knew how exhausting it would be to sit upright. And then she was going to have to muster up the energy and eat.
"I've prepared a tiny portion for you," Regina said as she returned to the living room with the fully loaded tray and placed it on the table, putting Emma's socks on first and sitting her upright so that she could eat.
Sighing, Emma looked over at the plates. It was true, her portion was really very small and did not make her despair at the mere sight of it, but even that could not change her general condition. Wordlessly, she clung to Regina's shoulder and tightened her legs to at least help her somehow as she maneuvered her up in bed.
"Hey, Ma!" Henry finally said, who joined them just as Emma withdrew her hand and Regina straightened up. "You're home! I can't believe it yet!" Carefully, he slid an arm under her and pressed his cheek to hers in greeting.
"Neither can I," she admitted, eyeing him as he pulled back again. "Good to see you, Henry," she whispered, using the remote to adjust her headboard higher. She wasn't really sitting upright when she was done with it, as she immediately felt dizzy if she went past a certain point, but at least this way it should be possible not to choke on the mashed potatoes.
Regina, meanwhile, had cleared the tray and put it on Emma's lap when only her plate and drinking cup remained on it.
"Thank you," Emma murmured, straining to reach for the spoon as Henry and Regina made themselves comfortable beside her bed with their own plates.
"Bon appetit," Regina said and began to eat. She would refrain from immediately coming to Emma's aid and eat up first or wait for her to ask for her help.
Hesitantly, Emma shoved the first spoonful into her mouth and shifted the food back and forth in it for a long time before she could decide to swallow. "It tastes good," she then said quietly, her eyes fixed on her girlfriend. She should appreciate it more when she cooked for her, even if it was hard. After all, she didn't know how many more opportunities she would have to eat with her family.
"I'm glad," Regina replied with a small smile. "It's nothing special."
"Still, that needs to be cooked, too," Emma nodded, then turned her attention back to her plate. She actually managed to eat it all, but then immediately fell back into her pillows, grateful for the extra oxygen that was flooding her nose.
Both Henry and Regina eyed her apprehensively for a few moments, but Regina quickly regained her composure, took the tray from her girlfriend, and flattened the bed again.
"I still have homework," Henry declared, barely finished eating, and pressed a kiss first to Emma's forehead and then to Regina's. "Thanks for lunch, Mom."
"Sure," Regina said confused, glancing after her son as he disappeared up the stairs before his room door closed. "What was that?" she turned to Emma in wonder.
The latter swallowed hard and turned her gaze toward the foyer as well. "It's because of me," she whispered.
"What do you mean?" Regina wanted to know.
"He can't stand to see me like this. And I understand that." She'd been waiting for Henry to pull away for a long time, but that didn't mean it hurt any less now that it was real.
Regina shook her head. "Nonsense. He loves you, Emma."
"Of course he does," she agreed, fixing her gaze on her from dull eyes. "All the more reason he's acting this way. It hurts too much."
"Emma..."
"It's okay," she interrupted her, reaching for Regina's hand without taking her eyes off her dark ones. "Obviously he's made it to the acceptance stage now, too, and realizes that death isn't necessarily always a bad thing, but sometimes brings relief. Now only you have to realize that."