Hey guys, this is the last part of the series. It's three chapters overall and a short epilogue. I will warn you in advance, things are pretty rough in this story, less angst and more sadness but you'll see what I mean pretty quickly… Please bear with me and be patient, things will work out (I just might kill you in the process, but hey, anything for the art ;))

Let me know what you think :)

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She looked at it, twisting and turning the blonde edges between her pads.

She needs a trim.

She rolled her eyes at the direction of her thoughts and stared at the clock again. Fuck, has it really have been only five minutes?

She kept swinging her legs like a ten year old, bored out of her mind while a machine was doing the work her body failed of doing.

Then a wave of pain rushed through her veins and made her body stiffen. She knew it was coming, every single time, yet it didn't prevent the shock her body got into every time she felt that pressure in her lower abdomen and a prickliness in her hands, clawing at her vessels; like headache, only way worse.

Trust Emma to be one of the rare cases to experience that type of pain during that treatment. They all go through it, a couple hours a week, just fine but not Emma; Emma with her apparently problematic blood flow that makes this processes a living hell. But at least she's living. If she stops doing it she won't be around for long.

And it's all on her. It's her fucking fault. Hers, and the world but mainly hers.

The wave of pain finally dissipated, making room for boredom and frustration once again.

Emma turned her body to face forward with her legs folded. The room was empty since Mr. Collins, her usual 'play mate' had passed away last week. He was prickly and edgy and annoying but Emma tolerated him, even liked him at times. He made her laugh, reminded her of someone, who, she has no idea but someone. He would huff and turn and grunt, he'd get up and sit down and then get up again until the nurse would come in and instruct him to sit still. Emma would stifle her laugh at that and fail when he would turn to look at her and yell 'What are you laughing at?'

She would burst out in a rolling laughter, the only ones she has those days, and he his lips would eventually quirk up.

Emma stared at the empty bed, the one closer to the door, for a while.

Sensing like she's being watched she lifted her gaze for a second, ready to bring it back down after confirming she's just imagining things. But the only thing that hit the floor after that was her jaw. Her eyes grew round when she saw the figure standing in the door, staring at her.

She closed her mouth and quickly turned her back away from the door and back to the window, praying that she hasn't seen her. But who is she kidding, she was standing right in front of her looking at her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. She closed her eyes tightly and wished to be swallowed by the earth. Is the universe playing some type of a trick on her? A joke maybe?

She set still, her form hunched, signaling loudly 'Do not approach'

But did she ever listen? Emma thought bitterly when she heard the door click open.

Bound to this bed, to this machine, she clenched her fists and waited.

"Emma?" she asked carefully, her tone fragile.

"No" she responded bitterly, imagining her eyes roll in their socket at that. "What do you want?" she spat out.

"Why are you here?" she asked, ignoring Emma's question.

She finally turned, facing her while gesturing widely, angrily to the machine.

"What does it look like?" she bit.

"But why? How?" her gaze alternated between Emma's face, the tubes connected to her hands and stomach and the large machine stationed near her bed.

"That's what you get for drinking yourself to death" she stated somberly and folded her hands in defiance.

"I-" she bit her lip, trying to figure out what to say next.

"Why are you here?" Emma dragged the conversation out of the 'Emma is an idiot who's now paying for it' area.

"Henry," she answered "My son" she added after realizing that Emma has no idea who he is "he sprained his ankle and managed, quite successfully, to also rupture a ligament." She said and her face contorted at that.

Emma winced at the image "How did he manage?"

"Basketball" she dismissed "It happens a lot, but this time he also need physiotherapy."

"Mmm" Emma nodded and they entered an awkward silence.

"Do you mind if I-" she cleared her throat, looking extremely uncomfortable while gesturing to the bed "I have an hour or so…"

"Err" Emma drawled, not sure on how keen she is about spending time with her "Fine, I guess" she eventually relented. She is a grown woman, she can hold a conversation with a woman she crushed on, and then loathed, that still looks like she's fucking thirty; her mind provides while she scanned Regina's fit yet curvy figure. Emma watched in hidden astonishment at how the years only made her better, just like fine wine. There are wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, her hair is longer and her eyes are wiser, calmer and she looks even better than Emma remembered.

The same could not be said on Emma; Emma who hasn't washed her hair in days, who was forbidden from eating junk so now she barely eats at all, who's under-eyes bags have bags.

And yet that doesn't seem to matter to Regina, who now takes a seat next to her, looking at her with fond yet careful, almost guarded, eyes.

"So…" Emma drawls when it becomes too void for her to handle "How's the husband?"

She watches Regina's face cloud with sadness and irritation.

"The husband is no more" she states.

"As in…?" Emma trails off, unsure of how to approach this subject.

Regina shakes her head and laughs warily "No, we're divorced"

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that…" she places a comforting hand on Regina's forearm and squeezes. They lock eyes and just stay there.

"Hey Emma" the nurse, Lauren, enters the room "How are we doing?"

"Fine" Emma mumbles and cast her look down in shame.

"Alright" she says while checking that everything is connected properly and flowing "you have ten more minutes and then we're done. Also, I scheduled your next appointment for Thursday same time, as well as Monday next week, same time as well." She informs cheerfully and Emma sends a small, tight smile her way.

"Thank you Lauren"

"You're welcome" she walks to the door and adds last minute "I'm glad you finally have someone to keep you company" and she is out, leaving a frowning Regina and an uncomfortably stiff Emma alone.

"Leave it" Emma sighs, defeated, in a last attempt the get Regina off this subject. But who is she kidding, this is Regina we're talking about.

"What did she mean about the whole company thing?" she inquires and Emma rolls her eyes, but answers nonetheless.

"Most people have company while doing this, at least for a certain portion of the treatments."

"And you don't" it's a half question half statement that Emma confirms by nodding "why?"

Emma snorts "Really?"

"Really"

"Well, maybe because I don't really have anyone to accompany me" she says and it's meant to be sarcastic and half-hearted but she has a feeling that Regina can see right through it. Having guessed correctly, she watches Regina's face color with pity and just like that all of her defenses are up again.

"I see" she says while Emma's face harden.

"I think you should leave now," she says blankly, her tone devoid of emotions.

Regina opens her mouth, probably to protest, but thinks the better of it.

"Alright then" she stands, looking like she might want to say something else. But nothing comes out and she nods curtly once more before charging out of the room.

Emma waits a safe minute before slamming her face in the pillow and letting out a frustrating growl.

She is so mad, mad at herself, mad at who ever created her like that, wired her so she is drawn to Regina like a fly to fire. Why? Why does the only person she feels truly and deeply connected to, in awe by, is the person most toxic to her? And worse, why does she keep running into her? It's like she can't seem to get her out of her head and out of her life.

But now it's over, she tells herself in an attempt to calm down. Emma has been, yet again, an ass and there is no chance Regina will endure her ungrateful, prickly ass for a third time.

It's funny to think how much Emma wanted her in that plane, how hard she tried to get her attention. And look how the tables have turned. The last time, Regina practically threw herself on Emma. The timing was wrong, the whole situation was wrong and Emma was fifty shades of fucked up. But honestly, when isn't she?

Still, it doesn't change the fact that it takes merely the sight of this woman to shake Emma's world each and every time. But she has enough on her mind, she doesn't need that drama in her life. She is alone and she is fine with it, just like she was before Regina and Lily and the fame and she managed just fine, even better than fine.

The ten minutes are up and Lauren helps her out of the equipment. She sighs in relief and rushes to the bathroom to empty her bladder.

When she is back in her own clothes, she spends some time in the makeshift coffee shop at the same floor. It's better than being alone at home anyway. Besides, dialysis keeps her slightly dizzy for a short while after, so she waits, waits until her head isn't spinning or her muscles stop protesting.

At last, she's heading home.

Crashing into her sofa with a bottle of water she turns on the TV and watches until exhaustion makes room for sleep.

I apologize if I mis-presented anything about dialyses, fortunately I never experienced or have known anyone who had to experience that treatment. Everything I wrote here is with the assistance of the wonderful internet.