#he lied to the face of royals and magic users for his son's safety he'll do it again if it keeps his daughter from harm

[naivesilver]

One of those Eliana plot moments I was dying to reach, deliberately sprinkled with some family angst 💗

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There are days where Emma thinks the world must be out to make things as difficult as possible for her. 

This should not be one of those days, and yet, predictably, here they are. In a way it was almost easier at the beginning of this ordeal - Gold showed up with some new cronies, sure, but that's on par with the course. It's arguably part of their town's routine, by this point. 

Then those cronies took August. That, Emma suspects, was where everything started picking up speed as it went to hell. 

She spares a glance at Eliana, who is pacing around like a caged tiger, her movements jerky and impatient. Emma can't exactly blame her - even if her brother hadn't been the one who got taken, she must be still riding the high of his rescue, full of adrenaline and pent up energy - but it is an unnerving sight, muddy footprints tracking across the hospital floor notwithstanding. 

Emma sighs, forcibly returning her attention to the book pages that have given them all so much trouble lately. In the brief bout of lucidity he had at her house, August casually informed her that that is where their mysterious Author is, so now she's on her own trying to puzzle out how to get him out - her friend lost consciousness shortly afterwards, which made him of little help, with the addition of having to figure out where to go to get him checked out. 

In Emma's defense, she did propose the convent right off the bat, and she still wagers it would have been the better choice; magically sturdy and magically knowledgeable, it’d have been the perfect place for their needs, so they could continue worrying about pretty much everything else. Eliana, however, fought against that option so strongly that it was impossible to make her change her mind, and, as Emma has learned the hard way in the past few hours, most people will capitulate rather than arguing with someone whose face is deliberately spattered with Cruella De Vil's drying blood. 

The sound of approaching footsteps invades her train of thought. The sheriff looks up, expecting Whale or one of the members of his staff, but is instead met with Regina's flat expression. 

The mayor is still playing double agent, technically, but the only other supposed ally of Gold is on the opposite wing of the hospital, bound to her bed and with enough gauze wrapped around her neck to satisfy a mummy. Even if she were to spot Regina, which is unlikely, it would simply look like another attempt to swipe the illustration of the door from Emma’s hands, albeit in a more crowded environment than usual.

“Still no word from Gold,” Regina announces, her gaze moving between the other two women. “He’s probably huddling somewhere with Maleficent until he gets another bright idea, since this one worked so well.”

Emma sighs, stashing away the pages again. The less people see them, the better, even at this point. “I don’t know if that’s better or worse, honestly,” she says, her voice terse and unamused. “Did you come all the way up here just to tell me there was no news?”

“I wish. No, Gold’s off the radar, but you’ve got another visitor.”

“Really? Who?”

“The Mother Superior. She’s come to check up on August, since they used some…unusual magic on him.”

For a brief, surprisingly lucid second, Emma feels a stab of regret about not having asked Regina to speak in private. She doesn’t get much more time than that, anyway; a second seems to be enough for Eliana to register what she’s just heard, freezing on the spot halfway through her brooding - her head swivels around, looking at the mayor with her purple-ish eyes as wide as saucers, but her face is completely expression-less, a waxen mask stained with red from the chin down.

Then, what feels like just another second later, she rushes past them both, stomping out of the door without looking back.

“Crap.” Emma stands up so abruptly the rickety hospital chair almost falls backwards, cursing more under her breath as she grabs Regina and sets out on Eliana’s trail. “Did you really have to say it where she could hear? Where is the Mother Superior, anyway?”

Her friend all but glares at her, though mercifully she falls in line with Emma pretty easily, as if picking up on the urgency of the matter. “At the entrance. I told her to wait until I asked if August could have visitors. But what-”

“That girl went for Cruella’s jugular only a few hours ago, do you think it’s safe for Blue of all people to be around her?”

“Well, if Blue couldn’t guess that her kid would be here, that’s on her, not me,” Regina scoffs moodily. “Personally I’m on Eliana’s side- that dog lady wanted Henry, Emma. If she’d gotten to him like she planned, I wouldn’t have stopped at the jugular, and neither would you.”

The problem is, she’s right. Emma has nothing against Eliana. Eliana is, by and large, a nice enough person - she grew up with Ruby, and Henry likes her, and August, who despite everything is still one of Emma’s closest friends, thinks the world of her, like the besotted younger brother he is. She might have a penchant for butting heads with her mother and Emma’s, sure, but she doesn’t look the type to go for unwarranted violence, and besides, what Regina said is true: without her, Cruella De Vil would have tried to take Henry instead, in the hope of luring his family out for good.

But Emma’s personal opinion matters little and less, right now. She is still the sheriff, and she is still the Savior: while babysitting a young woman who’s barely gotten off the adrenaline rush of biting a chunk off a villain is not her top priority, she’d rather avoid having a matricide in her hands anyway, in the midst of all that chaos.

Thankfully, the Mother Superior is still relatively in one piece when they stumble into the hospital's hall, though she looks far from pleased. She and her daughter are both small women, nearly of an height, but where the fairy's wearing sensible shoes and exuding her customary air of authority, Eliana has turned into a looming, haunting presence, as though her wild hair and the way she's standing up ramrod straight were making her appear larger than life. 

"Nobody asked you to come," Emma catches her hissing as they draw closer to the pair. "You're not welcome here."

Blue scoffs, with the same look of annoyance one might have after stepping on a chewed gum. "This is not the time for your childish games, Eliana. I need to make sure your brother is in good shape, and- oh, God, what happened to you?"

"You did." Eliana leans forward so that she's almost nose to nose with her mother, her voice lowering so much it's almost inaudible over the din around them. 

"You're what happened to me, and to August. So many of the things Gold did to him, they were because of what you did to him first - look at yourself, Mother. You're a fucking disease. I'm not letting you get close enough to poison my baby brother again."

"I'd thank you to avoid that kind of language when you speak to me-"

"Or what?" The question is delivered with a sort of hysterical giddiness, but none of that shows up on the young woman's face, save perhaps for a brief glint in her eyes, a sharp, pestering flash. 

"What will you do to punish me? Will you make me stand in the corner? Will you let August get hurt again? I am tired of having to chase away his monsters myself just because you can't be arsed to do your duty. And you didn't pass anything useful down to me, otherwise I'd have needed less time to burn that cursed island to the ground, back then."

Eliana points at the crusted blood with surprising ferocity, all but livid with anger. "But this? This is yours alright, Mother. This is how you would have solved things, too, if you weren't too proud to get your own hands dirty, so don't tell me you're here to help, now. You already did more than enough when you gave us both life."

She spits the word out so venomously that it catches even Emma off guard, though the sheriff still takes the split second the Mother Superior spends faltering to cut between them, wary of possible escalations. "Okay, ladies, that's enough. Blue, thanks for checking in, but I think we're managing just fine for now. We’ll call if we need anything. Eliana- you need to get some sleep. August will be fine. He's in good hands."

"He is," the younger woman agrees readily - except she doesn't look that much younger, at present. She is still fresh-faced and minute, at a first glance, but when her eyes raise to meet Emma's there's a fury in them that feels ancient, burning blue and purple like gas fire. 

"I trust you with him, Emma Swan, and I trust the mayor, but I do not trust her. She already let him die once; she might do it again if you don't keep an eye on her."

There's a sharp intake of breath from Blue, and suddenly the nun is struggling against Emma's flimsy separation, face contorted in anger. "You're going too far, child," she says, her proverbial calm straining. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Call me child one more time, I'll choose some new names for you as well. What do you say about liar, uh? Murderer and liar, maybe?"

"You dare-"

"Yes, I dare, Mother!" Eliana explodes, clutching at the sides of her head as though her skull were splitting in two, fingers twisting in her tangled curls in a way that must be at least a bit painful and yet shows no sign of stopping. 

"You have no idea of what you've passed down to me, of what- what I've heard in that forest, and you still judge me for how I've acted all these years, but this is on you, Mother. Gold hates you. That's why he tricked me and why he hurt August. None of us would be here right now, if you'd just done your job with him. You should be ashamed. You-"

"What's going on here?"

There’s a beat where Emma almost thanks whatever divine intervention might have just saved her arm from being torn apart by the mother and daughter barking on either side of it. It only lasts a beat, however, as when she raises her eyes she finds out the new voice belongs only to Marco, standing in the hospital hall with his hat in his hands and a concerned look on his face.

“Great, it’s a family reunion,” Regina mutters, acidly, as Blue takes the chance to compose herself and turns around to address the man directly, as though she hadn’t just come out of an hysterical catfight in a public place.

“Geppetto, please, control your daughter better- she’s in a state, right now. She’s not fit to look after anyone.”

She probably expects Marco to side with her, just as Emma’s own father has gone along with some of her mother’s worst ideas; judging by the way her expression freezes, however, she must not be expecting him to stiffen and say, evenly: “She is your daughter, too. Not just when it suits you.”

He walks past them to reach Eliana, then, and only hesitates a moment before stepping to her side and wrapping an arm around her chest, at once protection and holding. He is not an extraordinarily tall man, Marco, but the girl looks pretty much dwarfed by his grip, even if anger is still dripping from her every pore - Emma feels safe enough to step away, then, though she keeps her guard up, just in case.

“My girl,” the carpenter says frettingly, scanning his daughter’s features up and down. “What happened? I thought it was your brother that- Is that blood? Are you hurt?”

Eliana doesn’t respond immediately, eyes still staring vacantly in her mother’s direction, so it’s Regina who steps in once again, her tone dry but not devoid of any admiration. “She is what happened to some old friends of mine. Your girl got August out- without her we’d still be running in circles.”

“And that was very brave of her,” Blue interjects, somewhat irritated, “but no one knows for sure what Rumpelstiltskin did to August yet. Emma, you know it better than I do- if it’s dark magic, then the sooner we get rid of it, the better. We’re only wasting time with this farce.”

“You’re the only one wasting any time here, Mother.” Eliana speaks softly and haltingly, but her gaze is still hard as steel, despite everything.

“My brother is fine where he is. Touch him again and I will eat you alive. This will be your only warning.”

Marco hums pensively under his breath, his eyes flitting from the girl in his arms to Regina and Emma. “If Eliana says there is no danger, then I trust her. Emma? Have you seen my boy yet?”

“Whale thinks he’ll be okay,” the sheriff replies, picking her words cautiously. “Sort of. He’s going to need some time to rest and recover, but that’s about it.”

“Then we don’t need your help right now, Mother Superior. You can leave my children alone, if you please.”

It’s a low blow, lower than many would expect from a man as mild-mannered as him. It’s easy to guess Blue might be of the same opinion, too - she looks absolutely floored by the remark, enough not to be able to get even the proverbial last word in, and it’s a miracle the whole hospital doesn’t fall onto their heads as she leaves, so enraged she appears to be.

Still, she does leave, and Emma turns back to Eliana, dread pooling in her gut. The girl hasn’t torn her eyes from her departing mother yet, either, but something has changed in her all the same; it’s as if she were being taken by a full body tremor, one that picks up pace when Blue finally walks out of the door and threatens to make her buckle at the knees, with only her father’s presence keeping her upright.

It occurs to the sheriff that she has never seen them so close to each other, before. There is some strain in that relationship, to hear August and Granny tell it, and though they must have exchanged a few words in Emma’s presence at some point, it was nothing like this - Eliana shakes and shakes, run through by shivers as though she’d gotten stuck in a blizzard, and Marco seems at loss of words over her reaction, cradling her cheek with his free hand like an additional point of support.

“Marco,” Emma ventures, ever so carefully, “August’s still sleeping. You can go see him if you want, but she really needs to get some rest too. Everything else can wait.”

“No.” Eliana squirms in her father’s hold, an uncharacteristic pleading note in her words. “I don’t want to. I can’t.”

The man shushes her gently, pulling her even closer. “Of course you can. We’ll go see your brother, and then I’ll take you home. It’s alright.”

She shakes her head brusquely, sagging further on herself. “Papa,” she says, and it’s barely more than a hoarse croak, tears pooling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Gone is the ageless air she was sporting before; now she looks like a child, and she sounds like one, too, a little kid tired out at the end of a sugar rush.  “Papa, I think I did something awful. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Oh, my girl.” Marco presses a kiss to the top of her head, in such a tender gesture that Emma feels prompted to look away and give them their privacy.

“I know that’s not true. You’re alright- Eliana, my sun, I’m so proud of you. It’s alright. You’re safe, and so is your brother. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

In the corner of her eye, Emma catches Regina turning around as well, gaze stubbornly fixed on the ceiling. The sheriff imitates her, and then thinks, idly, that she shouldn’t be feeling so gloomy about everything, about this heartwarming scene that’s unfolding behind them even as she tries to pretend she can’t hear anyone sobbing over the buzzing of the neon lights overhead.

She shouldn’t be, and yet she is, because that persistent worry that something’s bound to go wrong still clings to her, and has not left the room with Blue, as they, Eliana included, must all have hoped it would.