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The clock reads 5:12am and this is when, for a brief second, she thinks perhaps Emma had stirred and freezes, her fingertips hovering, barely touching the skin on Emma's forehead. The sound of Regina’s own heartbeat is suddenly so loud in her head.
She counts, breathless; one, two, three seconds and... nothing.
Tiny blonde hairs tickle as she relaxes and there’s this reverence in her gentle touch as she traces a line from between eyebrows down over the freckled nose (summer has done its part in bringing them all out and she loves it; wants to whisper the confession in Emma’s ear) all the way to slightly parted lips.
Even now, there’s a hint of a frown, tugging at the ends.
She carefully pulls a few strands of blonde hair away from the peaceful face and smiles. Fights the urge to burrow her own in the blonde waves flowing across the white pillows, over strong shoulders and collarbones.
The bed creaks when she shifts onto her back and she winces. Holds her breath and waits, again. This may all be pretend but she wants it, needs it in the worst kind of way and these noises become so loud in the silence that they risk pulling her out of this moment long before she’s ready to let go of it.
Just a few more minutes of this, she pleads, just let me have this.
Her eyes are closed now, too. It helps.
She listens to the steady rhythm of her heart, so, so strong and how can that be? how could it possibly...
Her left hand sneaks down between their bodies. The way Emma’s fingers seamlessly fall in between Regina’s as her palm rests against the warm sheets has her tense shoulders finally relaxing.
Maybe she could fall asleep this way? Give herself this gift?
The clock reads 5:23am and this is when she doesn’t dare. Time is precious in a way she hasn’t really had to consider in decades. Because Emma is next to her but soon it’ll be morning and people will wake and life will start and things, well things will be different.
“You know, I’ve thought about you moving in” she whispers, turning her head just to make sure there’s no response, because what if there was? There’s a thin smile tugging briefly at her lips.
She shifts her gaze to the ceiling, adjusting her head on the corner of the pillow. A small sigh then: “Henry would be ecstatic, of course. The both of us, in the same house...” she pauses, draws in a shaky breath, “finally together.”
The thought of turning over and shaking the blonde until she wakes is there, teasing her with the outcome she knows she has done nothing to deserve. The one where Emma is looking at her, grinning.
“Took you long enough” she’d say. Smug as ever because she’d, of course, figured everything out already. Had known that it was coming since the moment they’d kissed under the mistletoe and Emma had tasted of warm cider and candy canes and Regina’s breath had hitched and she’d been absolutely terrified because happiness. And so she’d said nothing about it for 7 months.
It’s 5:29am and this is when she thinks that yes, took her long enough.
It’s 5:30am and this is when she hears people in the corridor.
It’s 5:35am and this is when she knows it’s all over because there’s a nurse in the doorway, telling her that it’s time. That they are coming to take Emma away now and she’s sorry for Regina's loss and is there someone she can call?
Regina shakes her head because no you can’t take her but also I’ve called and he’s on a plane and he’s going to be too late and… the hand that she’s been holding is suddenly so cold. She lifts it, their fingers still intertwined and looks at it, looks at the faint bruises and the left-over medical tape that had held the IV-needle in place.
The nurse shifts where she stands and for a second Regina tenses, every part of her ready to fight with such an intensity that if magic had existed in this part of the world she would have set the god damn room on fire, because she thinks maybe the nurse’s going to come over and pull her away. Drag her off the bed she’s been allowed to share with Emma for the last 2 hours.
Since she took her last breath.
“I’ll give you another few minutes to say your final goodbyes” the woman instead says, lowering her head just as she turns and walks away.
Another few minutes? Another. Few. Minutes?
Regina cries. She crawls close to Emma’s still body and weeps into the hospital gown. Into a chest that’s quiet in a way her own never was, even when her heart was in the ground. And perhaps this crying is harder and uglier than even when she’d first realized Emma had died. Because Jesus Christ a few minutes? She’d had seven months to say something and now she’s supposed to make up for all of that in a few minutes.
“I love you, Emma” she chokes out, tears and snot dampening the cool fabric covering cold skin “I love you so much, and I should have told you, so please, please don’t…” and then she can’t continue because begging for Emma not to leave is no use. And there is no magic here and why is there no magic here? Regina’s fingers dig into the collar and pulls and pulls until the hospital gown has shifted so much that the tiny stone on a thin silver chain comes into view.
She stops and looks at the pendant. Wipes her nose on her sleeve.
It had been her gift to Emma last Christmas.
With shaky fingers and shaky breath she unclasps the necklace and places it around her own neck. Touches it as it settles against her heaving chest.
The nurse is back. It’s time she says and what kind of ludicrous statement is that? “Please” Regina begs and she’s crying so hard now that the world is blurry and her head hurts and how does one even breathe?
“I’m sorry Miss, we have to- it’s time to take her.”
Regina kisses Emma then. Presses her wet salty lips to cold ones and lingers and lingers and lingers. Even now. Even without magic she thinks maybe. Please.
A pair of arms, strong but gentle, like they know she’s breaking, reach for her and ease her off the bed. Regina doesn’t know this person, this woman in the purple scrubs, but she lets herself be held and sobs into the steady shoulder as they wheel the bed away.
As Emma disappears.
It’s 5:56am and this is when she stands alone in the corridor and everything is quiet except for her heart; its rhythm steady and so, so strong and… how can that be? How could it possibly?