Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon A Time and never will. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: For some reason, I was thinking about my own experiences with migraines last night, and this was born from that. Enjoy!
Emma missed the initial symptoms – the aura – at first because she wasn't paying attention. She later blamed her obliviousness to the fact that she hadn't had a migraine in four years, and thus didn't realize what was going on until it was too late. She did think it was odd that her vision dimmed, but that vanished after a while. She tried to ignore her hands going numb and tingling, but it was a little hard. It was when the headache started that Emma couldn't ignore the sharp pain. For about an hour or so, she tried to ignore the sharp pain and blamed it on hunger – Which turned out to be a huge mistake. She ate a larger than usual lunch, and then drove back home.
By the time she turned on the light, which sent spiking pain through her head, Emma had finally realized what was occurring. She turned off the light and hurried to the bathroom to look into the medicine cabinet. Unfortunately, there was no Imitrex in there since Emma hadn't filled her prescription – She hadn't felt the need to, which had been a monumentally stupid move. She rushed to the couch as fast as the migraine would allow and put her head in her arms. It was too late to do anything now, and Emma just had to wait this out.
She groaned when the door opened and Mary Margaret stepped through a few seconds later, turning the light back on. "Emma, what is it? What's wrong?"
"Migraine. I have nothing to take care of it. My Imitrex hasn't been filled in years." She tried not to cry as the sharp pain intensified for a second.
Mary rushed to her side and started rubbing her back. "You need me to get you anything? I can if you want me to." She was worried about her roommate and friend – She couldn't recall a moment where she had seen Emma this vulnerable before.
Emma shook her head and immediately regretted it. "The couch is uncomfortable, but I don't know what else to do."
"Emma, don't be stupid. Come on, let's go to my room. You can have my bed tonight since you clearly need it more than me."
"I can't do that."
"Yes, you can. I'm willingly giving it up. You're sick." Mary trailed behind Emma and made sure to pick up the garbage can in the kitchen, just in case.
Emma curled up in the fetal position as soon as she hit the bed. Mary turned on the night light she had so she could see but wouldn't bother Emma. "I hate this."
"How long have you had migraines?"
"Since I hit puberty. I have no idea if they're hereditary or not." She was bitter that she didn't know her family history, but she wasn't about to say anything about it. Unbeknownst to Emma, the migraines were hereditary – She had inherited them from her mother, who had magical means of dealing with them.
"Emma? Miss Blanchard?" Henry's voice echoed through the apartment and Emma winced.
"I'll be right back, okay? I'll just go tell Henry what's going on." Mary hated to leave her friend, but she needed to explain the situation to her student.
"Where's Emma?" Henry needed to tell his mother something important, but he couldn't find her anywhere.
"She's upstairs, but you can't bother her. She's not feeling very well right now."
"Is she going to be okay?" Henry couldn't help but panic at those words.
"She's going to be fine, but she's not up for a visit right now. I'm so sorry." Mary felt guilty that she was sending Henry away, but Emma was her priority at the moment.
Henry was disappointed, but he understood. "Can you tell her that I'll talk to her tomorrow?"
"Of course." Mary smiled at him and then ushered the ten year old out of the apartment. She rushed back to her room to find Emma still in the same position and breathing through her nose. The teacher questioned her to find out what was going on.
"I think I'm gonna be sick." Emma pitched over the bed, but Mary caught her and managed to get the trash can up – She was grateful she had thought to pick it up. She rubbed Emma's back to calm her down as the twenty-eight year old vomited her lunch.
"You're okay, sweetheart. Shh, you're going to be fine." Mary continued to rub her back and winced sympathetically.
Emma leaned back once she was finally done and sighed in relief – The migraine was starting to recede a little, which was wonderful. She had always felt better after throwing up during a migraine. "Thanks, Mare."
"Don't mention it – I don't mind taking care of you when you need me." Mary meant it, too.
Emma wasn't used to anybody taking care of her when she was sick – Her foster parents had basically pumped her full of medicine and then left her alone. It was nice, but it made her feel guilty, which was irrational. "That's pretty nice to do. I'll be feeling better soon."
"And the first thing you're doing is making an appointment for tomorrow so you can refill your prescription for Imitrex. I don't want to see something like this happening again, do you understand me? This shouldn't have gone this far."
Emma smiled despite herself. "Yes, I will. I promise." She didn't want to be without her Imitrex ever again – This had taught her a huge lesson – Just because something hadn't occurred in a long time didn't mean it wouldn't happen again.
"Okay, good." She smiled at her friend.
Emma turned green and then reached for the garbage can again, which Mary rushed to get. She'd be washing the can multiple times once Emma was feeling better. "Ugh, I hate this so fucking much."
"I know you do, but it'll be over soon." When Emma laid back down, Mary went around to the other side of the bed and lay down next to her. She continued rubbing Emma's back until she fell asleep. When Mary was sure that Emma was going to stay asleep, she grabbed the garbage can and put in the bathtub before returning to her sick friend's side. Emma seemed to calm down when she was near, which was slightly odd. However, Mary wasn't about to question it since she didn't mind taking care of Emma.
This wouldn't be the last time Mary Margaret would take care of Emma, who had learned to accept her help after the migraine occurred. A flip had switched between them.
It was a memory that the mother and daughter would always treasure, especially after the curse was broken.