Chapter 4: The Surgery
The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor filled the small, sterile room where Emma Swan lay reclined, the IV line inserted neatly into her arm, a steady drip marking the passage of time. The stark white walls of the hospital room seemed to close in around her, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. Outside, the sky was a steel grey, clouds heavy with the threat of rain, mirroring the tension inside the hospital.
Regina Mills stood a careful distance away, her figure outlined against the dim light filtering through the blinds. She watched the proceedings with an intensity that betrayed her controlled exterior. Her role as mayor usually demanded a certain level of detachment, but today, as a mother watching over her son's potential lifesaver, her presence was acutely personal, albeit shrouded in professional restraint.
Dr. Whale moved efficiently, checking the monitors and noting down vital statistics. He was well aware of the delicate situation, not just medically, but emotionally, given the strained interactions between Emma and Regina. "We should have the compatibility results soon," he informed them, his voice deliberately neutral to maintain a calm atmosphere.
"Thank you, Doctor," Regina acknowledged, her voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil that might be swirling within her. She did not turn to Emma, keeping her gaze fixed on the doctor, maintaining her role as overseer rather than participant in this intimate drama.
Emma watched Regina from her position on the bed, sensing the careful barriers the other woman had erected. It was clear that Regina was here out of necessity, bound by her duty to her son rather than any desire to connect with Emma. The air between them was charged with a silent acknowledgment of their mutual goal—Henry's well-being—overlaid with the discomfort of their newfound and awkward connection.
The room fell silent after Dr. Whale left, the only sounds the soft hum of medical equipment and the distant echo of hospital activity. Emma felt the weight of solitude despite Regina's presence, her mind grappling with the whirlwind of the past few days.
Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Emma spoke, her voice slightly hoarse. "Regina, I... I understand this is hard for you. I'm not here to make things more difficult. I just want to help Henry."
Regina turned slowly, her face a mask of composure. "I am aware of your intentions," she replied, her voice cool. "And as I said, your help is appreciated. Henry needs this. We are all here for him."
The formality of her words stung, but Emma nodded, understanding that this was perhaps the only way Regina could manage the situation. There was a rigidness in Regina that spoke of deep control, a need to keep emotions tightly reined to function.
As they waited, the silence resumed, each woman lost in her own thoughts. Emma's mind wandered to Henry, a boy she had only seen in pictures and brief video clips Regina had reluctantly shown her on her phone. Her heart ached with a mother's love, raw and overwhelming, intensified by the fear of losing him before she could even meet him.
Regina remained standing, her stance alert, as if ready to spring into action should anything go awry. Her eyes occasionally flicked to the door, anticipating either good or bad news with the same stoic readiness.
When Dr. Whale finally returned, both women stiffened, alert to his expression as he entered. He held a clipboard tightly against his chest, a small smile breaking through his professional reserve.
"The compatibility tests are positive. We can proceed with the transplant," he announced, a trace of relief in his voice.
Relief washed over Emma, a surge of hope so strong it nearly overwhelmed her. She looked at Regina, expecting to see a similar relief, but found instead a quiet gratitude, tempered with the ever-present mantle of control.
"Thank you, Emma," Regina said, her voice soft for a fleeting moment. "You've given Henry a chance."
The words were simple, but they resonated with sincerity. Emma nodded, feeling a tentative bond forming, not through warmth or shared affection, but through a shared commitment to a boy they both loved from different spectrums of his life.
As Regina turned to speak privately with Dr. Whale, outlining the next steps with clinical precision, Emma lay back, letting the relief and the gravity of the commitment she had made wash over her. This was just the beginning, she realized. The road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for Henry, she would face them all.
The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor continued to pulse through the quiet hospital room, now interspersed with the muted voices of Dr. Whale and Regina as they discussed the logistics of the upcoming procedure. Emma, though relieved by the positive news, felt a certain heaviness settle over her as the reality of what was to come began to sink in. She was about to give a part of herself to save her son, a son she had yet to truly meet.
Regina finished her conversation with Dr. Whale and turned back toward Emma, her expression unreadable. She approached the bed with measured steps, her presence commanding yet distinctly reserved.
"We are scheduling the surgery for tomorrow morning," Regina announced, maintaining a professional distance. "You will need to prepare, and Dr. Whale will provide you with all the necessary instructions."
Emma nodded, absorbing the gravity of the situation. "Okay," she managed to reply, her mind racing with thoughts of Henry and the surgery that lay ahead.
Regina paused, as if contemplating her next words carefully. "I will ensure that Henry is prepared as well. He's been briefed about the procedure but knowing he will meet you afterward... it has given him a certain measure of peace."
The mention of Henry looking forward to meeting her struck a deep chord in Emma. It bridged the distance between them, if only slightly, and filled her with a mixture of anticipation and dread. "I'm looking forward to meeting him too," Emma responded, her voice thick with emotion.
Regina's face softened marginally, a brief flicker of maternal vulnerability that she quickly masked. "He's a strong boy. He gets that from you, I suppose," she conceded, her voice barely above a whisper.
The acknowledgment felt like a small victory in their tentative interactions, a crack in Regina's armor that allowed a glimpse of her true feelings. Emma wanted to reach out, to forge a connection over their shared concern for Henry, but the boundaries Regina set were clear. Instead, Emma simply said, "Thank you for taking care of him, Regina."
Regina's eyes met Emma's, a complex mix of emotions swirling in their depths. "He is my world," she said simply, the statement ringing with fierce protectiveness.
The room fell into silence once more, each woman lost in her own thoughts. Emma lay back, feeling the weight of the night ahead. Sleep would be elusive, she knew, her mind too fraught with worries about the surgery and dreams of the life that might await her and Henry afterward.
Dr. Whale returned, breaking the silence. He carried a stack of papers, which he handed to Emma. "These are the consent forms and pre-operation instructions. Please read them carefully and sign where indicated," he instructed, his tone gentle yet firm.
As Emma began to review the forms, Regina stood watching for a moment longer, then turned to leave. "I'll be back in the morning, before the surgery," she said, her voice steady but not unkind. "Try to get some rest tonight."
With a nod, Regina left the room, her figure retreating until she disappeared from view. Emma watched her go, feeling an unexpected pang of loneliness. The complexities of their relationship, marked by a need to protect the same child, had woven a tentative thread between them, one that Emma hoped would strengthen in time.
Left alone with her thoughts and the paperwork in front of her, Emma focused on the task at hand. The forms were a reminder of the risk, the enormity of the gesture, and the hope it represented. As she signed each page, her resolve solidified.
Tomorrow would bring its challenges, but it would also bring her face to face with her son. For the first time since learning of Henry's existence, Emma felt a true connection to the life she had brought into the world, a life she was now fighting to save. This was more than a medical procedure; it was a first step toward a new beginning, however uncertain the road ahead might be.
The night was long and restless for Emma Swan. Tucked under the crisp hospital sheets, her mind spun with anticipation and nerves. Every sound seemed amplified in the quiet darkness of her room, each beep of the monitor a reminder of the heartbeat she was striving to protect—Henry's heartbeat. Despite her exhaustion, sleep remained elusive, chased away by images of the son she was about to truly meet for the first time.
As dawn crept through the slats of the blinds, casting thin strips of light across the sterile room, Emma felt a weariness that was more emotional than physical. Today, everything would change. Today, she would be both a donor and a mother, her dual roles merging in a single, life-saving act.
The door to her room opened quietly, and Regina Mills entered, just as the first pale hints of morning illuminated the room. She was dressed impeccably as always, her demeanor composed, yet there was a tightness around her eyes that betrayed her concern.
"Good morning," Regina said, her voice low, perhaps in deference to the early hour or the gravity of the day. "Did you manage to get any rest?"
Emma shifted on the bed, pressing her back against the pillow. "Not really," she admitted, trying to offer a reassuring smile. "But that's probably normal, right?"
"Quite normal," Regina responded, her lips twitching into a semblance of a smile. She approached the bedside, maintaining a respectful distance. "Dr. Whale will be here shortly to go over the final preparations. The surgery is set for just after breakfast."
Emma nodded, absorbing the information. The reality of what was about to happen settled around her like a cloak, heavy but not entirely unwelcome. "And Henry?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
"He's being prepped as well. He's... anxious but brave," Regina replied, her voice softening slightly as she spoke of her son. "He asked about you again this morning."
The mention of Henry asking about her warmed Emma, filling her with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "I wish I could see him before we go in," she said, a lump forming in her throat.
Regina considered this for a moment, her gaze assessing. "I'll see what can be arranged," she finally conceded, turning to leave before pausing at the door. "Emma, regardless of what has transpired between us," she began, hesitating, searching for the right words, "I am... grateful. Henry is everything to me."
Emma felt a surge of empathy for Regina. Despite their complex circumstances, this was a moment of raw honesty. "He's lucky to have you," Emma responded sincerely.
Regina nodded once, more a dip of her head than a full gesture, and left the room. Her departure left a silence that was both contemplative and tense.
Shortly after, Dr. Whale entered, his presence brisk and businesslike. "Good morning, Emma. Are you ready to go over the last few details?" His manner was efficient, designed to reassure and to prepare.
Emma sat up straighter, steeling herself for the conversation. "Yes, I'm ready," she confirmed, her voice steady.
Dr. Whale went through the procedure, explaining each step with clinical precision. Emma listened intently, committing every detail to memory. As he explained the risks, which were few but significant, Emma found her resolve hardening. This was for Henry, and no amount of fear would deter her from this path.
After Dr. Whale left, Emma was alone once more, left to gather her courage as the sky brightened outside her window. Today, she was not just saving a life; she was connecting with her son, perhaps laying the foundation for a relationship fraught with challenges but also rich with potential.
As the nurses came to wheel her to the pre-op area, Emma took a deep breath, ready to face whatever the day brought with an open heart. For Henry, for herself, and for the new bonds that might yet form in the crucible of shared love and sacrifice.
As the nurses wheeled Emma through the bustling corridors of the hospital, the early morning light cast long shadows across the walls, creating an almost ethereal path leading toward the operating room. Each turn of the wheels brought her closer to a pivotal moment not just in her life, but in Henry's life as well.
In the pre-op area, the clinical chill of the room was a stark contrast to the warmth of the emotions swirling within Emma. Dr. Whale met her there, his face a mask of professional calm. "We'll begin shortly," he informed her, checking the monitors and IV lines one last time. "I recommend you wait until after the procedure to see Henry, to keep his anxiety levels manageable."
Emma felt a pang of disappointment, her heart sinking slightly at the news. She had hoped for even a brief moment with Henry, to offer him some comfort—or perhaps to comfort herself. Yet she understood Dr. Whale's decision; it was based on what was best for Henry's condition.
"Understood," Emma replied, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions inside her. She lay back against the pillow, taking deep, even breaths to steady her nerves.
The nurses busied themselves around her, their movements efficient and practiced. One of them offered Emma a small smile, a gesture of reassurance that was both needed and appreciated. "We'll take good care of both of you," she said softly.
As the anesthesia began to take effect, Emma's thoughts drifted to Henry. She imagined what he might look like, how his voice might sound. She thought of Regina too, the complicated, frosty woman who had become an unexpected part of her life. Emma hoped that this day would mark the beginning of something new, not just in terms of health for Henry, but in their intertwined lives.
The world around her began to blur, the sounds of the hospital melding into a distant hum. The last thing Emma saw before her eyes closed was the steady flicker of the overhead lights, like distant stars guiding her into darkness.
--
When Emma awoke, it was to the muted beeps and soft bustling of the post-op recovery room. Her throat felt dry, her body heavy, as if she were emerging from a deep and distant dream. Her first groggy thought was for Henry—had the surgery been successful?
A nurse noticed her stirring and came over with a cup of ice chips. "Welcome back, Ms. Swan," she said gently. "You're doing fine. The surgery went well."
"And Henry?" Emma managed to ask, her voice hoarse.
"He's still in surgery, but everything is progressing as expected," the nurse reassured her, offering a smile that seemed to lift the fog of anesthesia slightly. "You can rest now. We'll let you know as soon as there's more news."
Relief washed over Emma, allowing her tension to ebb slightly. She leaned back, closing her eyes again, but sleep eluded her. Instead, she replayed the whirlwind events that had led to this moment. The unexpected arrival of Regina at her doorstep, the shocking news of her son, and the swift journey here, to this hospital, to give a part of herself to save him.
As the hours ticked by, the recovery room became a quiet cocoon, insulated from the world outside. Emma's mind was a mix of hope and worry, her emotions oscillating with every passing minute. She thought of Regina, wondering how she was handling the wait, how she would navigate their new reality once the crisis was over.
Finally, Dr. Whale entered the recovery area, his expression one of quiet satisfaction. "Emma, I have good news," he announced, approaching her bed. "The transplant was successful. Henry is doing well, and he should be out of recovery soon."
Tears pricked Emma's eyes, a mixture of relief and joy overwhelming her. "Can I see him?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Very soon," Dr. Whale promised. "We'll move you to a room closer to his, and once you're both stable, you can visit him."
The prospect of finally meeting Henry, not just as a concept or a photograph but as her living, breathing son, filled Emma with a profound anticipation. She was about to start a new chapter, not just in her own story, but in Henry's as well. As she waited for the moment when she could finally hold his hand, Emma realized that despite the pain and uncertainty, she would do it all again. For Henry, for a chance at redemption, and for a future where they could be a family, however unconventional it might be.