A/N: *Disclaimer* For the most part this will be a direct retelling of the original source material, but I will most likely have to make a few changes here and there to help blend in the new paring. If that's not your thing then don't read it, I am not taking any credit for the source material full credit goes to the amazing author that created this novel. I am just simply reimagining their story with a Swan Queen twist. If you have any other novels that you'd like to see your favourite ship take a starring role in, then let me know and I'll see what I can do. Likewise, if you have another ship that you think might be suited to this story, let me know. I'm open to all ships :)
Blurred Lines – By KD Williamson, rewritten in the style of Swan Queen by Novelstofanfics.
Emma Swan is a no nonsense detective with a rough exterior. Only a select few know her as a loyal, loving friend. Committed to her family, her friends, and her job, Emma puts her needs behind everyone else's.
As a surgeon, Regina Mills is used to being in control. The hospital is her life and leaves room for little else. Respected by her colleagues, but misunderstood by the residents, Regina takes what she needs and keeps everyone at arm's length. In the process, she creates unexpected enemies.
Tragedy brings them together. As chaos grows around them, the lines between them begin to blur. Despite being from different worlds, friendship grows between them, turning quickly into attraction. Will these two strong, independent women find a way to deal with their individual baggage? Or will they be overcome by it?
Chapter 1:
Emma Swan blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to see through the gray haze that filled her vision. There was a coppery taste in her mouth. Emma swallowed and realized it was her own blood. She beat down panic and clung to consciousness with both hands. Her own special brand of stubbornness kept the darkness at bay. This wasn't the first time that trait had served her well, and it sure as fuck wasn't going to be the last. The sound of gunfire echoed in her ears, but the roar of her own heartbeat took precedence, blocking out everything else. It reminded her that those assholes had failed. She had to live. Pure and simple. It was the best sort of fuck you to send out to the universe and the gunmen who had shot her.
Gradually, Emma focused on the medical personnel. They were making too much goddamned noise so she didn't really have a choice. Two EMTs prodded her at the same time, seemingly everywhere at once. They spoke to her and each other, but Emma couldn't understand a word. The one thing she knew for sure was this shit hurt. Pain twisted her insides, and she fought against it. Emma smacked away the hands that poked at her. "Stop...no fucking touching." She growled, impressed that she could speak through the crapload of pain.
"She's coming out of it," one of the EMTs said.
"What's she saying?"
"Uh, I think she's cursing at us." He paused. "Listen, we're trying to help you," he said slowly.
"Then...stop poking...your fingers in me...shit," Emma countered even slower.
"I know it hurts. You've been shot. We're almost at the hospital."
Everything came back to her in a rush of jumbled images. The gray haze turned to blood-red anger, and it left her tired as hell.
"Killian." Emma screamed his name, but all that came out was a raspy whisper.
"What?" the EMT asked.
"Killian," she mumbled, a little louder than before.
"I think she said Killian, but I'm not sure. She's fading."
"Doesn't matter. We're here."
The doors to the ambulance opened with a loud creak, drowning out Emma's next attempt to speak. They moved her abruptly and jostled her, causing a burst of pain to jolt though her chest. She groaned. Bright light and a tangle of voices flooded her senses, and put her into overload. Emma flinched. Everything already hurt, and all that other shit was just too much.
"What do we have?"
"White female. GSW to the chest and right thigh. Diminished breath sounds. BP is seventy over fifty-five and falling," a familiar voice answered.
She had to get them to listen. Emma's pain and desperation fueled her. "Killian!" she tried to sit up but was pushed back down.
"Weak my ass! There is no way she should be awake. Let's get her to trauma one."
An eternity later, Emma was lifted and moved to a different bed. Pain slapped her in the face. She cried out, "Dammit."
"Miss? Can you tell me your name?"
It was getting harder to breathe, but Emma held on. The room began to swim, turning the person looking down at her into a blur. "Shit."
"Let's try it again."
"Fuck...Em-ma."
"Okay, I'm Dr. Whale, Emma. You're at Maine General. We're trying to take care of you. Is Killian your husband?"
"Partner."
"I'm sure he's being taken care of," Dr. Whale said dismissively.
It pissed her off all over again. "Fuck you. I need to know. Go check on him."
"Emma, I need you to calm down. Let us do our job."
Emma wanted to scream. Why wouldn't these dumbasses listen to her? She was alive. She knew that because she hurt everywhere, but she had no idea what happened to Killian. "Fuck that. He wasn't moving. Go fix him."
"Em? Emma?"
"Emma turned towards the sound of her name. She blinked, bringing her brother into focus. She couldn't remember ever feeling that relieved.
"Neal...Killian...he..."
Neal moved closer. She wanted to reach out to him. "Let them take care of you. I'll find out what's going on with him."
"Sir, you can't be in here, Family-"
"She's my sister." Neal cut him off.
"Sorry. If you can calm her down..."
Ignoring the others around her, Emma concentrated on her brother. "They got him in the back, Neal. He...wasn't moving. Please-"
"I've got this. Mom's on her way. I'm sure Gold will be here soon too." His voice was soft. It soothed her. "Just do what they say. I got this," he repeated.
Emma wanted to believe him. A crushing pain fluttered through her chest, making it even harder to breathe. Emma gasped as everything went dim.
"What do we have?" Dr. Regina Mills asked as she entered.
Dr. Whale stiffened visibly. "Dr. Mills, there was no need-"
"What do we have?" Regina stared at Whale, demanding his cooperation. He remained still and silent as the rest of his team worked diligently. Regina lost her patience. "You can urinate all over your territory later if that's what you need to do, Dr. Whale. For now, though, I don't communicate telepathically so..." She paused for a few seconds to give herself a moment to calm down and assess the patient for herself. "GSW to the leg and chest." She glanced at a nurse. "Breath sounds?"
"Some, but they are wet and decreasing."
"Get her to surgery before she bleeds out," Dr. Mills ordered. "I'm going to go check on our other gunshot victim."
Whale nodded as he helped to wheel Emma from the room.
Regina glanced at the remaining occupant as she made her exit.
He followed her. "I'm Emma's brother, Neal. I think you were talking about her partner, Killian Jones. Is he okay?"
She walked briskly toward the next patient's room. "I'm not sure who it is, but I'll know more about his prognosis momentarily."
Neal nodded and stepped away as she entered another trauma room. She looked over her shoulder. Neal was still there, looking through the window. This was obviously his friend.
The heart monitor beeped loudly in concert with the IV pump. The sounds centered Regina and brought her patient's needs into focus. The cervical collar around his neck inhibited movement to prevent any additional injury. She had taught her residents well.
"Dr. Booth should be here momentarily. I'm here to help. Talk to me," Regina said. The staff looked her way.
"GSW, probably trauma to the spine, plus significant blood loss. Abdomen is rigid indicating an internal bleed. His extremities aren't responding to stimulation, and his blood pressure is dropping." Dr. Lucas, a third-year resident, responded immediately, and Regina was surprised that she was the resident to take lead. Dr. Lucas's performance had been subpar recently, but Regina approved of her initiative.
The electrocardiograph whined. The patient's blood pressure bottomed out, and he went into ventricular fibrillation.
"He's coding."
"You know what to do." Regina disliked giving unnecessary direction.
Dr. Lucas placed the defibrillator pads on his chest.
The door to the trauma room banged against the wall and the young police officer entered. "Killian!"
"Someone escort him out." Regina maintained her focus. "Twenty joules."
"Charging." The defibrillator bleeped in readiness.
"Clear," Regina said.
Infused with electrical current, Killian Jones arched upward.
Regina stared at the monitor, mentally ordering it to respond. When it didn't, she changed tactics. He was her patient. She refused to give up easily and was confident she could stabilize his vitals. "Push an amp of epi and bump it to forty joules."
Regina waited patiently for the defibrillator.
"Clear."
The patient was shocked again, and seconds later, his heart returned to a normal sinus rhythm. Perfect. Now, she could focus on the other challenges his battered body faced.
Regina peeled the defibrillator pads from the patient's chest.
"Vitals are stabilizing." Dr. Lucas stated the obvious.
The door burst open as Dr. Booth entered. He bent over slightly as he tried to catch his breath. "Sorry," he muttered. "Sorry."
Instead of responding to his apologies, Regina relayed information on Mr. Jones. Dr. Booth stood, nodded, and asked for forgiveness once more.
"Get him to an OR." Regina removed her gloves and stepped to the side.
Last to leave, Regina walked out behind the gurney. Neal Nolan met her at the door. His police uniform was wrinkled, and he held his hat in a white knuckled grip. He watched as they wheeled his friend down the hall.
"This is so messed up. It's hard to see him like this. He's usually smirking or saying something stupid." Neal turned toward Regina. "Thank you for what you did in there."
Uncomfortable with being praised for doing her job, she nodded and chose her words carefully, intent on ending the interaction as soon as possible. "He's sta-"
"I know. I get it." Neal nodded, looking dejected.
"I'm sorry, officer. I know this is difficult." Platitudes were easy. She had plenty of them on standby. Regina used them so she would appear to care while still remaining detached. She did her best to comfort the young man, but it was time to move on. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get to a previously scheduled surgery. Another surgeon will be operating on your friend. They'll contact you as soon as they know more."
She nodded stiffly and started down the corridor. This scenario was her least favorite part of being a doctor. She hated not having answers for loved ones. She hated that the most she could do was imitate empathy. Most of all, she hated handing off patient care to another surgeon because of prior obligations. It prevented her from being able to offer assurances about the quality of care a patient would receive. Not that the other surgeons weren't capable. They were all fine doctors. They just weren't Regina Mills. And she may be a lot of things that weren't desirable, but she was the best at her job. None of her peers could compete with her success rates.
As she moved quickly toward the elevator, she justified leaving the officer without the comfort he so clearly needed. Any time she spent consoling him was time taken away from saving lives. That wasn't a sacrifice she would make.
"I fucking hate hospitals," Neal whispered.
Despite his lowered volume, Regina overheard every word as the elevator doors slid shut.