The Nanny

Recovery

For the rest of her life, Regina would swear that for a moment time stopped. Both Dr. Espenson and Dr. Hopper would explain that it was a survival mechanism, that the brain processed everything as slowing down to help process what was happening and to help with reaction times. Yet it didn't seem like a trick of her mind. Time truly stopped.

She took a deep inhale of breath as she tried to step backwards, almost tripping over her dress. Robin turned to look at her, his blue eyes wide and face white. He reached for her, his hand pressing against her bare arm though she wasn't sure if he was pushing her out of the way or steadying herself before she fell. She saw his lips move but she didn't know what he said.

He let out a grunt, his eyes bulging and his body contorting as his upper body went back while his legs continued forward. Robin then crumpled in on himself, his knees buckling as he fell toward her. She gasped, catching him and falling to her knees as well until she was cradling him. "Robin?" she asked.

Reaching up, he squeezed her shoulder. His lips moved but only gasps came out before he groaned. "Run away. Hide."

"No," she insisted. She glanced down at his stomach, bile rising up her throat. Blood seeped between the fingers of the hand he had pressed there and the truth hit her hard. She swallowed as she croaked: "I am not leaving you."

"He wants to hurt you. Don't let him," he pleaded, gasping for breath to be able to speak. His arm flailed about and she guessed he wanted to push her away but did not have the strength to do so.

She looked up to take stock of the scene. Guests and security held Nat down on the floor, though he kept trying to fight them off. A woman dressed in an opulent red ballgown with a diamond chandelier necklace sat on a garbage pail, glaring at the man. It struck Regina as odd but she didn't pay it any mind. The important thing was that she didn't see a gun in Nat's hand, so she considered him neutralized.

"It's okay," she assured Robin, laying her hand over his and hating how cold he felt. "He can't hurt anyone right now."

Emma jumped onto the stage, a towel in her hand. She knelt next to Robin and reached for the hand he had covering his wound. Looking up at Regina, she warned: "You might want to look away. This is going to be nasty."

Regina swallowed but shook her head. "I'll be fine. Just help him."

"Okay," Emma replied. She looked down at Robin. "I'm going to move your hand so I can staunch the blood, okay?"

He nodded, smacking his lips. Regina held him tighter as Emma moved his hand, revealing a stain so red, it was almost black. Blood bubbled up from a hole in his shirt and skin, making the bile rise back up Regina's throat. She swallowed it down, knowing Robin needed her to keep herself together.

"Shit," Emma said softly, which made Regina's heart race.

"Is it bad?" she asked her friend, growing more scared. Emma looked up and Regina could see the conflict in her eyes – she knew the truth but wanted to reassure Regina. It made Regina feel even more sick.

Emma pressed a napkin to the wound, applying pressure to it before finally saying: "He needs immediate medical attention but I think the odds are in his favor."

"Has someone called 911?" Regina asked, looking around the room to see if there were any emergency personnel present.

"Yes," Will told her, squatting next to her. He looked as pale as the rest of them. "They should be here within minutes."

Emma nodded, looking a bit relieved. "That's good. The sooner we get him to the hospital, the better. You know his blood type, Will?"

Regina returned her focus to Robin, whose skin had taken on an ashen appearance. His body shook and his eyes looked around the room frantically. "Where is he? He can be anywhere, it's dangerous," he muttered to himself.