Chapter one
Regina looked around, her eyes absorbing as much as possible of the crowded room while she put the gloves on skillfully.
"Busy day today, huh?" Katherine murmured by her side, tying her own scrub on the back.
"Didn't you say that yesterday?"
"Well, if the rain doesn't stop, I'll say that again tomor-" But she didn't even had time to finish the sentence before two paramedics crossed the door strolling a doolie, their faces serious and hard like statuettes.
They both jumped forward, almost elbowing each other on the way. Arriving first not necessarily meant staying on the case, but it never hurt.
"Female in her teens," One of the paramedics started as Dr. West stepped closer; he was the head of Trauma, and glared quickly at Regina and Katherine, almost pressing him in the middle of them. They both took a step to the side, giving him more space; a small step. The paramedic went on. "Gunshot victim. Abdominal laceration. Hypotensive and tachycardic. The bullet is still in."
And she was already unconscious. Regina glanced at the girl; her face was pale, bloodless, in contrast with her middle, where the ruined shirt was covered in half-dried blood, and there were fresh gushes slipping out through the edges of the bandages.
"Jesus, what happened?" She asked mindlessly. The girl just seemed so young. Teen years, the woman had said? Yes, Regina wouldn't put her past fifteen, really. What was a girl like that even doing on the street, at this hour?
"A firefight down in Queens, a couple of gangs, I reckon," The male paramedic explained in a hurried voice. "She was right in the middle of it."
"Do we have an ID? Anyone notified the parents?" Dr. West asked.
"No, not yet," The paramedic said.
"Midas, you contact the parents," Dr. West shot them both a glance. "Mills, you come with me."
Regina ignored Katherine's snort while they moved forward with the doolie until they reached an empty bed. There weren't many, today.
"On three. One, two, three," Dr. West counted, and they lifted the doolie, putting the girl on the bed. The jerk was enough to make the girl's eyes shoot open.
"Neal!" She shouted, fighting against the cervical collar with a grimace of pain. "Where's Neal? Where am I? Let me go!"
"Shh, it's ok," Regina grabbed the hand she extended in attempted to get up. "You're in the hospital. You were shot. Can you tell me your name?"
"Emma. But they were… Where's…"
"I'm sure your friend is fine, but now we have to take care of you, ok?"
"Just fucking let me go!"
Dr. West placed a firm hand on the girl's shoulder, keeping her down. "You're not going anywhere just now, young lady. Mills, we need an abdominal CT to localize the bullet, and go check if anyone came in with her. Now."
Regina hurried away, closing the curtains around the bed as she left, her steps soft on the floor. She ran outside, catching the paramedics as they were climbing back in the ambulance.
"Wait!" She shouted, stopping by the passenger's open door. "Did anyone come with her? Was there anyone with her when you arrived?"
"No, the police arrived first, and every soul vanished. You know how it goes…" The woman replied with a sigh. "She is probably underage, so you might as well call social services, you know. And police will be here soon enough, they can track the family."
"If she has any," The other paramedic added under his breath.
"Yes, ok, thank you," Regina said before running back in. So there wasn't much she could do about that now, and Kat should be on top of it. She had to prepare the CT.
"Mills, get back here!" Dr. West's voice thundered through the floor as she walked past the bed. The curtains were pulled open again and they were on the move. The girl was completely knocked down now, with an IV and a chest tube set up. "She's losing a lot of blood; we'll need a transfusion and we need to get the bullet out. Did you find an ID?"
"The paramedics didn't know anything about her, and no one came along," She said quickly.
"We can't wait. Call an OR. ASAP. Or there won't be good news to these parents when we do find them."
Regina nodded before motioning to the closest phone, still in time to hear Dr. West curse "Fucking teenagers," under his breath.
~SQ~
When Emma opened her eyes, it took her a while to adjust to the light, the edges all blurry and a tangy taste in her mouth. She looked down to see a blue sheet covering her body, and as she tried to move, she felt the IV tugging, but firmly attached to her arm.
Emma tried to get up, but found out she was still too numb for it.
"You woke up," A soft hand was placed on her shoulder and the least she had accomplished was forced back into the mattress.
She stared up to find soft brown eyes looking at her.
"Lay back," The woman said. Dr. Regina Mills was sewed in her white coat. "The dizziness will be gone in a moment."
"What-" Emma started before clearing her throat. "What happened?"
"You got shot," The doctor answered. "We had to take you to surgery, but all went fine."
Emma's eyes widened. Yes, she quite remembered being fucking shot, thank you. But surgery? She didn't even recall the fucking ambulance.
"Where am I?" If they had taken her to the nearest hospital, it could only be…
"Storybrooke Hospital. Look up, please." The woman answered as she got a small flashlight, opening her eyelids with her fingertips as she checked whatever. "I'm Dr. Mills." She pocketed the flashlight.
"Look, doc, since all went fine and stuff… I have to go," Emma tried to get up again, but the hand was still firmly in place.
"I don't think so, Emma," Dr. Regina Mills retorted, grabbing the stethoscope that was around her neck and starting to check Emma's vitals. "You just had major surgery. When you got shot, you had a gastrointestinal perforation, which means that the bullet went all the way through your stomach."
"I had a what?"
"Gastrointestinal perforation. But we were able to retrieve the bullet and fix you all right. If it all goes as planned you won't even need a special diet." Dr. Mills lifted the light shirt the hospital had dressed her as she spoke, and Emma gasped as she saw the length of her stitches. The woman looked closer at her abdomen, and when she touched, though she had light, steady hands, Emma flinched.
"It's expected to be tender for a while," The woman said, noticing her reaction. "But the color looks good and it's not swelling. You also had a minor concussion, and I don't see any reason to be concerned but I'll ask for a CT just in case. Is there anything else you are feeling?"
"No, I-I'm fine," Emma hesitated. "Thanks for patching me up or whatever, but I really have to go, I-"
"You are not listening, dear," The other interrupted her. "You will be here for at least a week, if not because even moving right now would not be all too pleasant, then for observation. Just to be sure you won't get any infections or bleedings."
The woman didn't look annoyed, and al though stern, her voice was kind and her eyes attentive.
"But I-"
"You are not going anywhere, Emma. We were able to get in touch with your foster parents, and there are some police officers that want a word with you, but I'll have them waiting until you are fed. Well, the IV shall do the job for today. No solids so soon, I'm afraid."
The doctor moved to write something on her chart.
Emma wasn't listening much past… "My foster parents?" she whispered back. "They are not coming here, are they?" There was an edge to her voice, despite how much she wanted to hide it.
Dr. Mills frowned at her.
"Well dear, of course they are."
Emma gulped, trying not to appear as panicked as she felt. "And the cops?"
"That's the protocol for all gunshots wounds," The woman said softly. "But don't be worried just yet."
Emma looked away. She wasn't supposed to be in that stupid alley. But some fucking guys owned Neal some fucking money, and the fucking guys happened to be part of a fucking gang… that owned another fucking gang money too. It was all too fucked up, because for all the wrongs Emma made in her life, she got screwed up in the one time she wasn't doing shit.
"Just yet?" Emma spat angrily, her temper starting to rise along with her fear. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Regina looked at her impassively. "That you shouldn't borrow trouble. They are not here in a witch hunt. It is protocol."
Emma shot her a heated look, "Don't borrow trouble? Looked like fucking trouble went all the way through my stomach, wasn't that what you said?" She was yelling now, and as the sedative was probably wearing off, she also managed to get to a sitting position.
Dr. Mills continued to stare blankly at her, but there was something in her eyes… something that just made Emma want to yell some more. She didn't need her sympathy! They continued to stare at each other until Emma was left all but a little embarrassed by her reaction. The hand was back, forcing her to lie down again.
"You shouldn't really be that stressed right now. It is not healthy," The doctor said soothingly, and part of Emma just wanted to tell her to shove it, but then again, maybe pissing off the woman with access to needles and scalpels wasn't the brightest idea.
"Can I at least make a phone call?"
"That you can," The doctor smiled at her. "The nurse will be here in a moment, she'll tell you how it works."
Emma was now eyeing the woman cautiously.
"Burgers," She blurted.
"I beg you pardon?" The doctor raised an eyebrow at her.
"You said no special diets, so I'll be able to eat burgers, right?"
Dr. Mills chuckled, her hand finally leaving Emma's shoulder. "Yes, as soon as your stomach heals a bit more."
There was a pause before Emma suddenly announced, "I can't pay the hospital."
Regina stared at her in that way again, and Emma grabbed the sheets below her.
"It's taken care of," Regina said finally. "That is not a concern for a seventeen-year-old to have."
Emma clenched her jaw. Yeah, one would think it wasn't. But Emma had a whole lot of what that woman would call concerns.
"Your foster parents will be working something with the government, I bet," The doctor said, probably because Emma didn't look too reassured.
She looked away, refusing to risk meeting some kind of patronizing gaze or whatever.
"I'll leave you to rest some more, dear. It will be alright, you were so lucky," Dr. Mills dropped her chart on its place and was about to leave the room before she stopped by the door and looked at Emma. "You and the baby are going to be just fine."
"Baby?" That made Emma look up pretty fast. "What baby?"
~SQ~
"Of course I didn't tell them anything!" Emma hissed, although the wound in her middle ached everytime she so much as raised her voice. "Do I look like an idiot now?"
"Hey, don't be mad at me," Neal raised his hands in surrender. "I was just worried about you, ok?"
"Sure," Emma snorted, then looked away. He wasn't there when she came in, he wasn't there when she woke up, and now that she had figured out alone what to tell the cops - nothing, she had said she didn't remember anything - he appeared, all smiles and concerned looks. Just great!
"Jeff and Mary were really here, then?" Neal asked, his voice carefully soft. He was smart enough not to press the subject. Emma wasn't in the mood of being questioned. Again.
"Yeah, for like half a second," She said, sighing. "Just to get social services out of their feet, then they just got the fuck out. Said they'd be back tomorrow. Well, I won't wait up."
They were silent for a moment.
Emma had left her foster house for over an year now, and never looked back. She was pretty sure she was never missed, either. There were many other hungry and lonely kids in Jeff and Mary's yard. So everybody played their part well in front of the social assistant and Emma would leave the hospital to go back to the same shithole she'd shared with Neal for the last couple months. Soon enough she would be eighteen, anyway.
"You know, I stayed with you until the ambulance arrived," He whispered, his rough hands enveloping hers. "I confess I freaked out and I knew they'd call the police, because of the gunshot. I was scared out of my mind, Emma. You were bleeding so bad..."
"I'm ok," She interrupted. "I was lucky." Or so had said the pretty doctor. That would be a first, Emma had thought.
And then she mentioned the baby.
"Look, we have to talk about something."
"Yeah, I know, I know I promised I wouldn't deal with them anymore. But it was a tough ass month, you know it, and..."
"Not about that," Emma shot him a glare when Neal had the nerve to sigh in relief. "We will talk about that too! Just not now."
"Alright, what is it, then? Hope you're not worried about your recovery. I spoke to the doctor, and she said you'll be fine. You know I'll take care of you, right? I will."
Emma didn't know that. She wasn't sure he could. But being Neal, he'd probably try. That's what she liked about him. So maybe he wasn't the greatest guy, but he tried. It had to count for something. Now more than ever. And she loved Neal, didn't she? He was her best - only - friend. They had done the thing, the baby, together. She didn't have to deal with it alone.
"I'm pregnant," She announced objectively.
"What?"
"I'm having your baby, you moron."
Neal blinked a few times, and Emma could almost hear his brain collapsing behind his forehead.
"Oh, ok," He nodded, as if fighting to discover the full meaning of that. "It's ok. We'll figure it out." He didn't quite smile; but yeah, he tried.
~SQ~
"Mr. Hughes here was recently diagnosed with HCM. Can any of you tell me what it means?"
As it often occurred, Regina's hand was the first to shot up.
Dr. Cora Mills looked at her daughter as if she expected nothing less, though from an outside perspective it would be nearly impossible to detect, because she kept a neutral stance as she proceeded, "Dr. Mills?"
"Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy," She started without missing a beat, "is a primary disease of the myocardium, in which a portion of the myocardium is hypertrophied, creating functional impairment of the cardiac muscle."
"That is correct," Cora Mills glanced at the 28-year-old patient and then at his wife by his side. "We were very lucky to diagnose the HCM early, because it is usually asymptomatic until the sudden death of the patient." She gave a strained smile at them, that should probably be reassuring. Needless to say, they didn't look very reassured. The doctor continued anyway, "How do we proceed?"
Again, Regina's hand was the first in the air.
"Dr. Mills."
"We need to perform a septal myotomy, a surgery that-" And that was when Regina's pager went off. She looked at it out of reflex, grateful that it wasn't 911. A septal myotomy was not a surgery she would like to miss.
"Is there anywhere else you have to be, Dr. Mills?" The stern voice of her mother made her look up.
"I- No. I'm sorry, as I was saying, this is a surgery that requires us to reduce the thickening of the..." She trailed off as her brain registered the room number she was being called, 218. 218. Wasn't that the room...
"Dr. Mills," She turned back to the woman once again, blushing when she noticed her pursed lips. "You are clearly elsewhere, go answer your page. Now, can anybody else describe the procedure for Mr. Hughes?"
"But-" Regina started to protest, but the Chief of Surgery was having none of if.
"Dr. Midas."
And, as Katherine started to answer, Regina just lowered her head and left the Hughes' room. She was disappointed, yes, but her mind really was in Emma's room even before her body was there. Quickly, it soon followed up.
"Emma, how are you feeling?" Her stethoscopes was already going for Emma's chest as her eyes flicked to the stats monitor by her side.
"I'm fine," Emma answered in a bored tone, and that is when Regina noticed the huffing blonde doctor by her side.
"Dr. Bell," She straightened her spine when she finished checking that indeed, everything at least looked fine. "Did you page me?"
"Yes," The blonde said in an exasperated manner. "Ms. Swan personally requested you, Dr. Mills, to talk to her about her baby, even though I'm from Gynecology, and you are a Surgical intern."
Something in the way the doctor reacted like it was a blow to her ego made Regina arch her eyebrow in amusement.
"Is that so?" She deadpanned as Emma started to chuckle beside her. She wasn't quick enough to refrain her smile.
"Yes. So I'll leave you to it." Dr. Bell huffed once more before strolling out of the room.
"So you personally requested me?" She quoted as she turned her attention to Emma.
"I wasn't crazy about Dr. Bell or whatever," Emma looked down at her hands, "Plus, you always convince the nurses to give me chocolate pudding."
Regina's eyes softened as she looked at the teenager, the memory of scrubbing in in a complex heart surgery almost vanished from her mind. Well, almost. She was still Regina Mills, after all.
"I see," Regina sat at the chair beside the bed. "Did Dr. Bell ordered your exams?"
"Yeah," Emma started to play with a loose thread of her sheet. "Is just... talk about options and stuff."
"Oh," She paused. Regina scanned the girl. She had dark circles around her eyes and was obviously fidgety. She took her hand in an impulse, making Emma look at her.
"You have options," Regina assured her firmly. "We have thousands of pamphlets laying around, if you'd like some... You could keep it. And if it is the case you can find a nice family to adopt." She had to force herself to remain with the professional tone she had perfected. Regina wasn't used to this kind of talk. Usually the Vagina Squad – the gynecologists - had this kind of talk with the patients. But still, as she started to speak to Emma, something tugged at her heart, making it hard to talk to her as a doctor, and not as a friend. A confident? Well, not as someone who had any more kind of intimacy with that poor, lost, broken – if she dared – girl would.
Still, she cleared her throat and did her best to look every bit of the doctor she aspired to be, "And you are still early in your pregnancy, you can terminate if that is what you think is best."
"I don't think it's best," Emma said immediately. "I don't, I-" She was starting to look away when Regina squeezed her hand and brought her eyes back. "I don't want my baby to fall into the system," The girl tried again, "But I don't see how me raising them would help, so. No, I don't think it is the best, but what if it is?"
It was messy, but Regina got it all the same.
"I am sure you'll find reliable parents. Parents that won't abandon she or he," Once again she struggle to keep her façade. Emma was a foster child, that much she knew. Foster children never got it easy, that much she also knew... but the pain in her green eyes? No, she couldn't possibly know. Not in the same way.
She could, however, relate at some level.
"There is no guarantee," Emma spat back, retrieving her hand from Regina's grasp.
She took a deep breath, trying to find something in her mind that would bring the girl some comfort.
"I really like numbers," Regina started in a soft voice. "So much I almost became an engineer."
Emma looked at her curiously for a moment before she got her rebel teenager mask back in place. "You know, I am not especially fond to having a frustrated doctor to care for my medical needs."
Regina smiled in spite of herself.
"Let me finish, will you? Besides medicine, I like statistics too, that is all I am saying. And statistically speaking, I once read that same sex-parents are less prone to regret adopting."
Emma stared dumbfounded at her before laughing. "Gay parents? That is your recipe to avoid foster homes?"
Regina raised one eyebrow at her, still smiling. "Ms. Swan... I didn't peg you for a homophobe."
"Whoa, isn't that question against the doc code or whatever?" Emma grinned at her, and then shook her head. "Fuck, I'm so not a homophobe. It's just, that is a very bright idea."
"Your surprise is kind of offensive, dear," She drawled. And that was when her pager went off for the second inconvenient time.
Emma pointed her chin at the device.
"Go do your surgery stuff, I know you are not from the Vagina Squad."
"Picked that already?"
The girl shot her an impish smile as she got up from her chair.
She laughed and stopped by the door.
"What I meant to say, Emma... if you want to keep it, there are some kind of precautions you can take. I'll get you some of those pamphlets. Think about it."
~SQ~
It was about 2 am. Emma knew it because her last pill was meant to be taken at midnight, and it had to be at least two hours since the nurse came by. She was in the hospital for eight days now, but her doc said she still wanted to keep her a few more for observation. Emma just suspected Regina didn't trust her to take her pills at the right time, and she would be kind of right. There were now more vitamins than medicines, and Emma was frankly lost.
So apparently being pregnant was more troublesome than being shot.
Anyway, she had been transferred. She was no longer in the surgical area, as it seemed, but in Gynecology, a place filled with doctors and nurses with pink scrubs. She was not particularly happy with the change, because she saw a lot of pregnant women around and it wasn't such a source of joy to Emma.
Emma was trying not to think about her own thing growing inside of her – it was barely past the size of a pin now, Regina told her. – but all the women in labor (no one was quiet when giving birth) kind of defeated her intentions, succeeding in making pregnancy all that Emma could think about.
So much, she couldn't sleep.
She looked through the window of her room, smiling as she saw Dr. Regina Mills with her back at her, leaning in in the counter desk, probably filling in some paper work. The woman was on call today, and had come over to check on Emma, but said she couldn't stay much because she had tons of paperwork. So.
It wasn't much to do, thankfully no labor to distract her, so Emma watched the doctor absently-minded, wondering if she could get a nurse to play scrabble with her or whatever. Emma groaned.
She was seriously bored.
Emma watched as a man who was dressed like a paramedic came behind the doctor and hugged her. The woman gave out a startled squeal, looking around and playfully hitting the man's arm. The halls were empty and the receptionist didn't even bother to glance up from the magazine she was reading.
So the paramedic leaned in, and kissed her. It was brief, but even from distance Emma could see it was tender. Regina laughed at something he said, and hit him again playfully, before running her hands on his arms. He said something else Emma couldn't discern and then he was leaving.
"See you at home," Regina called him a little louder, and he turned and blew her a kiss.
They were so in love it was almost pathetic. It was pathetic because Emma's eyes were prickling with tears, and she would forever blame her damn hormones she didn't even know she had at the second mouth on pregnancy, but…
For a second, as she watched the pathetically in love couple, she felt her eyes burn and her throat constrict. Neal never looked at her like that man looked at Dr. Mills, and she was pretty sure she never looked at him like the doctor looked at the man.
And dammit if she didn't want it.
She wanted that.
She wanted someone who was obviously caring and pathetically in love with her, and would be waiting for her at home, waiting for her to return from her high-paying satisfying job.
Instead, she was pregnant, hurt, and alone.
Why she had to be so fucked up?
Shit.
How was she supposed to raise a child like that?
~SQ~
"I've been looking for you like crazy, you know?"
The voice made Emma avert her eyes from the glass wall, where she had been watching the little pink, blue and white bundles. Some cried, some slept, some made bubbles of spit; Emma thought there wasn't really much more in life for newborns.
"Why?" She asked as Dr. Mills approached her.
"You're not supposed to leave your bed."
"Yeah, I don't care much for things I'm not supposed to do," She glanced at the babies again. "Clearly."
Instead of replying or scolding her for disobeying the hospital's rules, the woman simply stopped by her side, her dark eyes roaming the nursery in silence for a few moments.
"They are so cute, aren't they?"
Emma shrugged, "They all look like sharpei puppies, to be honest. Those little crumpled faces. I have no ideal how the moms identify which is theirs."
Dr. Mills laughed out loud, a reverberating sound that took Emma by surprise. It lasted only a second before an older doctor crossed them in the corridor with a stern look for the intern.
"Jesus, that was the least romantic description of a baby ever," The woman whispered when the man was gone.
"Sorry, not a romantic either," Emma shrugged.
"It is a good thing to be realistic, too. A very good thing, Emma." They observed the babies a little longer. "Though I like to come here and look at them and think of how they are brand new people. Unlike anything that we already know. They'll be new. All new. I like that."
"Right, but I'm not that cool with thinking I'm growing one in my belly right now," She whispered more to herself, but Dr. Mills nodded slowly.
"I suppose you have talked to your boyfriend?"
"Yeah, we talked." Though they had been far from reaching any conclusion. Neal was ok with the idea of terminating the pregnancy. It was probably the smartest thing to do; Emma was all but a high school dropout with a crappy part time job, and Neal wasn't doing much better. They didn't need the trouble of a pregnancy. But keeping the baby and giving it up, he had said, was out of question.
Emma didn't tell him this, but she was relieved to hear it. "We're not giving it up," She said out loud, making the doctor arch an eyebrow slightly. "The baby, I mean. Not sure I'll keep it either. But if I do, then I do. I know what you said about statistics, and it's all cool to guess the right answer to a test, but in real life, it doesn't fucking matter."
It really didn't. She had been a white baby girl in the system, and what good did it do? Neal had been adopted at four only to lose his adopted mother and have the father return him to the system at six. So, a gay couple? Sounded really nice and all, but there was no way to be sure. And she just couldn't risk doing that to her kid.
My kid.
"Hey, you are a smart, resourceful girl-"
"You don't know me," Emma interrupted her, suddenly annoyed by any attempted to light the situation. It wasn't light, it wasn't easy and she did not have resources. "It's just too easy for you to give me this kind of speech, so don't."
"I'm sorry, Emma, I didn't meant to…"
"Jesus, what is that? Why are you being so nice? I'm not your charity case."
"You're right, you're not. And you're not a baby either, but I see something new in you too. Ok, I don't know you, but maybe I do, a little. Maybe I recognize something in you. A hunger? I don't know…" The doctor raised a hand to stop Emma from interrupting her again. "I will shut up, and I will talk to Dr. Blue to sign you off already. I think you will be fine, Emma. No, not fine… You know what? I think you'll be quite something."
The woman smiled, a kind smile that held Emma silent long enough for the doctor to walk away. The blonde girl stood there, her eyes travelling back to the babies, to those little bundles of nothing much that were everything to someone.
Quite something.
Emma didn't know then what Regina Mills meant, and she was still wondering about it two hours later when Neal came to take her home. She was still wondering about it that night when they discussed again their options. She wondered about it for a long time. Enough, sometimes, to wish she would come back to Storybrook Hospital and ask her. Just ask her what she meant.
But in truth - and Emma didn't know that then either - ten years would pass before she would be back.
N/A: So here I am again! haha Not so sure where this is going yet, and any resemblance with Grey's Anatomy is probably not a coincidence haha... but let's see how it goes. ;) Btw, the name was taken from the amazing poetry of Elizabeth Bishop. Look it up!