Metal clinking metal as bullets attempted to tear through the armour of the jeeps. The heat from the fire of the car in front of them. The groans of the wounded and the yells of the attackers. All of that faded when Emma spotted August, collapsed under the weight of the jeep's side.
"Man, down!" Emma yelled, barely processing the fact that she was narrowly avoiding a hail of bullets as she ran to August who had yet to move. It was only thanks to his position behind the burning vehicle that he was protected against the rain of bullets, but that did nothing but keep him paralyzed for his leg was trapped between the car's roof and the dusty dessert floor.
Staying low to the ground, she quickly checked his vitals and breathed out heavily when the pulse underneath her finger was faint. The gashes on his face were embedded with glass, and the angle of his body told Emma he must have been thrown from the car on impact. Jesus Christ there was so much blood. The man's eyes fluttered open just a fraction of an inch as he coughed, a red stream escaping his lips. It was then Emma truly took inventory of him and found that not only was his leg pinned under the roof, turned at an odd angle from the impact, but there was a dark red patch under his left rib that was growing by the minute. She felt around the wound gently and cursed under her breath when she felt the sharp point of a large shrapnel.
"Come on, August," Emma grunted and gave her superior a hard tug to free his leg.
His scream reverberated in her head.
"Emma, fall back!" She heard Neal call to her, but her only thought was to get August out of there. His leg was almost out, and she knew it would hurt like a bitch to get him out, but she didn't have a choice. She had to save him. She wouldn't leave him there.
Looping her hands under his arms, Emma stood and pulled, drowning out every noise except for the anguished cry of her friend, her brother, as she pulled him free. The released pressure made her fall back when August escaped the weight of the jeep, collapsing back into the open fire where the vehicle was protecting him no more.
One second Emma had looked up to reach him, to grab his hand, his shoulder, anything, to pull him back with her The next second there was a bullet in his head.
Her ears rang, and time slowed. Her mouth opened, but the scream that wanted to escape was muted as she watched August lay there, lifeless.
"No!" She shook away from the person holding her back. "No!"
"Emma. Emma, wake up."
Emma sat up abruptly, rolled out the opposite side of her bed and pressed near the window, her hands up defensively. Her mind was whirling. August's screams were still ringing in her head. His dead body was seared permanently in her mind's eye.
"Emma." The voice that had roused her was soothing, and it took Emma half a second to realize it was Regina, eyes wide with worry as she stood on the opposite side of the room beside the bed, her own hands up with caution. "Are you okay?"
Emma nodded before taking in deep gulps of air, eyes scanning the room to confirm that she wasn't fighting anymore. She was home. She was in Regina's house. In her guest room. August was alive and safe. She took another breath then nodded more intently. "Yeah."
Regina shook her head in understanding. "Nightmare?"
"Yeah." Emma finally withdrew from the window and crawled to the head of the bed sitting with her back against the headboard.
"Do they happen often?" Regina asked hesitantly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Sometimes." Emma gave a half shrug. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"Motherhood has made me a light sleeper," Regina admitted.
Emma gave a half-hearted smirk, leaning her head back and shutting her eyes, counting backwards from ten as the noises in her mind slowly faded away. When she opened them again, she saw Regina still watching her, concern etching her brow. Despite the light orange glow peeking into the room from behind the drapes, Regina shivered in the barely used room and ran a palm up and down her arms. The goosebumps pebbled on her flesh, and Emma felt bad again for waking up the woman who had already extended her generosity to Emma far more than was necessary.
"Are you okay?" Regina asked again, her question laced with numerous other inquiries yet Emma heard them all loud and clear.
Compartmentalizing was key to her job. A soldier fought better when emotions didn't get in the way, Emma knew that. Hell, that got her through some of the toughest foster homes she had ever been in. But she knew the consequences of it as well, the horror stories of suffering from PTSD, of snapping under the weight of the pressure, going home a changed person. Not me, Emma thought. That wouldn't be her. So she was honest and shook her head, clenching the sheets in her tight fists. "I couldn't save August," she admitted quietly.
A brief moment of confusion clouded Regina's features before her mouth parted into a small, understanding "o".
"I exposed him and he got killed," the blonde continued, her fists clenched in her lap as they rubbed over one another as if they were stained with blood. "I might as well have put the gun to his head."
"Emma," Regina drawled cautiously, scooting up further to the head of the bed. A warm hand came down gently on Emma's forearm though it didn't cease the tension coiling through the blonde. "You saved his life. You went back for him, and you got him the medical attention he needed."
Emma laughed dryly. "So he can live the rest of his days either confined to a wheelchair or hobbling on a prosthetic?"
"So he can live." Regina rubbed her palm further down Emma's forearm until she reached the clenched hands and carefully extracted them from one another. With Regina's soothing rubbing circles to the back of her hand, Emma allowed the tension to seep away from her body, escaping right where Regina was touching her. "Does he seem dissatisfied by the turn of events?"
Emma shrugged, finally looking up to make eye contact with the older brunette. "He says he's doing okay, but I saw the beer bottles. It's hard on him."
"As it would be. He's suffered a life altering event," Regina reminded her with a squeeze to her palm. "His life has changed drastically, but he can continue to live it. I understand the guilt you must feel, but you are not the one who damaged his leg. You are the one that brought him home."
Emma was quiet for a moment, replaying events in her mind where August's end result wasn't lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life. No matter how hard she tried, even the best circumstance had an unpleasant end. Emma knew that when she enlisted. She knew the risks and was willing to take them. She sighed, running her free hand through her hair. "It could have been worse," she guessed.
"And it could have been better. But your actions were honourable and selfless. Don't ever forget that, soldier."
Emma smirked, the guilt and tension subsiding for now before she removed her arm from Regina's grasp and squeezed the brunette's palm in gratitude. "I won't."
Regina gave a small smile which the blonde returned shyly. "Do you feel better?"
Emma nodded. "It's nice to talk to someone. Definitely quicker than mail."
"More pleasant to look at too," Regina said before she could fully process her words. It was only Emma's intrigued raised eyebrow that made Regina blush and flounder for clarification, something that Emma found endearing and absolutely adorable. No doubt the high strung Mayor was never at a loss for words before. "I mean, talking to a real person is more appealing than words on a page."