Authors note: So I already posted something like this, but it was more of a prompt for anyone who wanted to take it up. You can still find it on my profile, if you want, I'd be more than happy to read what you'd have to write.

So, I know it's not really reasonable to get mad at fictional characters, but Emma did kind of piss me off a bit in this episode, and I think it will be obvious why if you read this. I looked for it, but couldn't find anyone who put a spin on this scene from 2x12. So I wrote one myself, even though it came out too short and not exactly inspired.

Anyway, not to drag this on, enjoy!

Reviews, good or bad, are always welcome : )

…

It's a strange feeling.

You know those dreams where you're drowning and you see someone walk by, and you want to shout, want to call for help, but your voice is failing you. So you watch them go away, unable to do anything but sink.

It's a strange feeling, when something along those lines actually happens, to you.

His eyes are still open but he can no longer make out the faces that linger above his head. Only shapes in the growing darkness. His lungs are burning from lack of oxygen, the pain in his chest growing, becoming intolerable. He's almost ready to let go, if only to escape the agony, when a siren sounds and the pressure on his throat goes away. The air rushes back in.

None of them, not Emma, not David, and certainly not Mr. Gold, stay long enough to witness the violent coughing fit that hits him the moment he breathes in. And he is thankful, if only for a second, because they won't see the tears that threaten to spill. Damn him if he's going to cry like a girl in front of them, even though he thinks his insides might be on fire. He knows, once the coughing subsides and he can take a few shallow, wheezing breaths, that there's blood on his lips. He can't see it and he can't muster quite enough strength to bring up his hand and wipe it away, but he can taste it just fine.

David still has his hands on Gold, in part to help him stand and in part so they wouldn't have a murder on their hands on top of everything, when the ambulance skids to a halt. Emma is relived at their quick response. Maybe they wouldn't lose anyone today after all.

When the paramedics head toward her and she realizes they are trying to get to Hook, behind her, she doesn't think twice before shouting: "No, him!" And her hand is pointing at the crashed car. "Take care of him! He can wait!" And as they rush to do their job, she has a moment to process something. She doesn't recognize the driver, and apparently neither does anyone around her.

With their backs all turned to him, none of them notice Hook go still on the side of the road. He can see them though, although his vision is fading in and out, and wishes he could make any sounds except the constant wheezing. He thinks he can actually hear the blood filling his lungs, but then again, he may be just imagining it. He know he can't actually take deep enough a breath to shout, but tries to anyway. He's rewarded with another coughing fit that finally sends him over the edge.

As she's standing there, in the middle of the road, with her father by her side, Emma doesn't yet know why, exactly, but she has a bad feeling about all this. Not only Mr. Gold's inevitable fury at losing Belle, but a stranger arriving in Storybrooke. If one person's found it, more would surely follow, sooner or later. She doesn't even want to think of all the complications that will bring. And her being the sheriff and this supposed "savior" everyone keeps calling her, she just knows it will all fall on her shoulders. Emma can't stop a weary sigh falling from her lips.

"Is… is he dead?"

Belle's high pitched, still freaked out voice comes from somewhere to Emma's left and brings her out of her musings. For a few long seconds her brain refuses to cooperate, too tired from everything, and for the life of her she can't figure out who she's talking about. But then her eyes find Belle's and she follows her line of sight. Of course, Hook. Hook, who's still sprawled out on the side of the road, now obviously unconscious.

"No, listen, it's okay." Still looking at the motionless pirate, she quickly makes her way to the shook up brunette, intent on calming her down. She can't quite imagine what losing all your memories at once must feel like. No need to scare her more than she already is.

"He'll be fine, he just passed…" And then something clicks. "…out."

It's dark and he's hurt and she's just not close enough, but she can't see his chest moving.

She motions for David to come over and tells him to take care of Belle.

"It's okay," she's trying for confident but her words come out slightly shaky and rushed. "This is my father, just, go with him to the hospital. Maybe they'll be able to help you remember something." Emma knows it's a blatant lie but she doesn't care, she needs Belle calm and safe and out of the way.

Without waiting for a reply she walks to Hook, steps slow and careful, hesitant. 'Come on Emma, you're being silly, he's not…' But she's close enough now, close enough to see the blood on his lips and blood trailing down the corner of his mouth. She's close enough now, to see that he really isn't breathing, but it's her mind playing tricks on her. It must be, because she's tired and he was fine just a few minutes ago. He was fine when David pulled Gold off of him and they walked… away.

Her breath catches in her throat.

Maybe he wasn't fine when she pointed the paramedics away from him, standing just a few feet from where she is now.