*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 :)

Also - for the purposes of this story, Mary Margaret and Charming had another son who they named after Charming's brother James :)

Chapter 2:

Emma pushed through her grogginess, and bit by bit, she became more aware. The first thing she felt was white-hot pain. It was a shitty way to wake up, but there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

Second, her nose felt weird. There was a tube forcing air into her nostrils.

That moved things even higher on the weird scale, even though it made breathing easier. Some machine hissed in the background. Momentary anxiety grabbed hold of her, but the feeling passed quickly when she figured out that the tubes didn't reach her throat.

Third, Emma did her best to case the environment. She strained to hear over the noise of the hospital equipment, but finally, her mother's and brother's voices became clearer. She forced her heavy eyelids to open. The room came in to blurry focus, but she could see people moving around her. When she blinked again, Emma saw a nurse walking out of the room. The effort to concentrate took just about everything she had. She could barely keep her eyes open. So, she didn't fight it. This sucked hard. Fuck it. At least she could hear what was going on. That was better than nothing.

"She doesn't even look like herself. I've never seen her like this."

"I know it's scary, Mom, but she's here."

"I know. You're right." Her mother sighed. "Why isn't James here? He should be here."

"I tried to call him, but his phone was disconnected," Neal said.

"I don't understand that boy. I'll never understand him." Mary Margaret sounded tired. More tired than Emma could remember hearing before.

"I don't either, Mom." Neal sounded almost as weary as their mother.

A warm, soft hand stroked Emma's cheek. It felt good to be touched, especially by her mother. Emma didn't allow it often, but if this wasn't a fucking exception, she didn't know what was. She leaned into the caress and whispered, "Mom."

Her mother sobbed loudly. "Em? Baby?"

Emma swallowed thickly. Her throat felt like it was lined with glass, but she kept trying. "Mom?" She opened her eyes again and was determined to hang on. It was time for her second wind, whether it wanted to come or not.

"I'm here Emma. Neal is too." Her mother's fingers tangled with her own.

"Hey, sis." Neal grasped the other hand.

Emma wanted to cry. Their words rushed over her and settled in deep. She felt clear enough to recognize she was missing something, but didn't know what exactly. "Killian?" That's when it hit her. Bone rattling panic. She tried to sit up but the instant jolt of pain cut through her. "Shit."

"Whoa, Em. Calm down. You gotta calm down."

She heard Neal's words, but they didn't matter. She had one goal, and it didn't involve calming down. No matter how crappy she felt, she needed to know about Killian. Her brother tried to put his arms around her. She pushed them away. "Killian." Her brother and mother peered at each other. Warning bells went off like a siren in her head. "Dammit, no." Emma managed to whisper. She was a goddamn lion. Lions roar. And all she could manage was a few words. Pathetic. Getting shot had made her pathetic.

"They had to take him back to surgery," Mary Margaret said.

Back to surgery. Yes, Killian was alive, but she was sure nothing good ever came from going back to surgery. She couldn't stop fear from creeping over her, no matter how much she wanted to beat the shit out of it. To make matters worse, she was stuck here. Too weak. Too broken to do anything to help. She couldn't even go see him for herself. "Check on him. Please."

Neal nodded. Emma didn't have to push hard because he was just as worried. Killian was family. She tracked Neal as he made his way out of the room and down the hall. After he left, she felt her mother watching her. She turned her head slightly and met her gaze. Mary Margaret was upset and her distress was big enough to fill the whole room. It made it even harder for Emma to breathe.

She didn't look away. Her mom's eyes were filled with worry and relief. "You can't leave me." Mary Margaret gripped Emma's hand.

The weight of the words crashed down on Emma's shoulders. Cheating death was a promise she wouldn't always keep – not in her line of work. She sure as hell was going to try. It was strange to be face to face with her own mortality. The possibility of dying brought up all kinds of emotions that she didn't want to name. Instead, Emma pushed the feelings away.

"I'm fine, Mom. Not going anywhere." Her words were a lie, but it was one of the good ones. The kind that made her mother smile.

It seemed like hours had passed in just a few minutes, and her body started to protest once more. Emma's eyelids fluttered as the feeling of weightlessness took over.

"It's okay. Don't fight it. We'll be here when you wake up."

The words washed over her and provided her a sense of safety as she drifted back into sleep.

Regina studied her patient's peritoneum. There was enough blood filling it to be life threatening no matter how many units were transfused into him. With steady hands and a discerning eye, she searched. This is what she lived for – following clues and solving mysteries.

"Suction."

Dr. Humbert vacuumed out the fluid, but she didn't thank him. She didn't want to be thanked for doing her job, why would he? The music of Branford Marsalis surrounded her, swelling to a crescendo.

This part excited her the most. It was a combination of pure logic, science, and instinct. This man was dying. There was always a reason behind it, information to be collected, collated, and quantified, and this was where Regina excelled. She was the one who put all the pieces together. If she had been present for the first surgery, there would have been no need for a second. The sloppy work of the previous surgeon and his team continued to annoy her even though she had already discussed the incident with Dr. Booth. Incompetence. She didn't tolerate it in herself and found it unforgiveable in others. Unfortunately, she couldn't be everywhere at once.

"Suction."

Her team was quiet because they knew she preferred it that way. She disliked forced niceties and idle conversation under normal circumstances and even more so in her operating room. She worked with professionals who were very capable, and that created the level of trust needed to save lives.

Regina studied his spleen closely and saw only mild inflammation. She scanned his liver just as carefully. "Suct– there it is."

Dr. Humbert cleansed the area.

"Clamp." With quick, sure fingers, and the added help of other precise tools, Regina closed the tear. Well done. Dr. Humbert siphoned out the remaining blood and irrigated the surgical site. Regina examined the area for several seconds but knew she'd done the repair properly.

"Dr. Humbert?" Regina said.

His gaze met hers. He had been a quick, quiet resident who learned to anticipate her moves without instruction. "Yes ma'am?"

"You may close." Without another word, she left the operating room. When she reached the prep area, Regina began her post-surgery ritual. She removed her gloves and surgical cap. Then, she loosened her habitual ponytail and let her hair hang freely. As she washed her hands, she watched Dr. Humbert engage the others. She heard laughter as the tension that held them in check just a few moments ago seemed to dissipate. For a second, she experienced a pang of longing in her chest. The feeling passed just as quickly as it came. she dried her hands and moved toward the exit.

The intercom buzzed as she walked by. "Dr. Mills? I'm sorry to bother you, but your surgical nurse told me you were done."

Regina pressed the button. "Yes?"

"There is a Neal Nolan who's demanding a report on Mr. Jones' condition."

"I'll be there momentarily." Sometimes people needed the truth delivered bluntly, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Neal Nolan struck her as one of those people. And Regina didn't know any other way to say what needed to be said. She wasn't one to pull her punches.

When she entered the waiting area, his back was to her. "Mr. Nolan?"

Neal spun around. A shock of sandy-brown hair fell over his forehead, and his features were stricken and drawn. It didn't distract from his boyish good looks. "H-how is he? You don't have to sugarcoat anything. I can take it."

Regina almost smiled. "The bullet caused swelling in his spinal column. As I hope you were informed earlier by his previous surgeon, true damage, if any, can't be assessed until the swelling subsides." She waited for him to acknowledge her, and he nodded. She continued, "Apparently, there was also damage to his liver, which I just repaired with no further complications." Since Mr. Jones was incapacitated and he had no other family present, Regina deemed it necessary to pass along pertinent information regarding his prognosis.

His eyes widened. "That wasn't caught the first time?"

"No, it was not. Compared to the other internal damage, it was a small tear but still dangerous." Dr. Mills offered no further explanation. She knew to be cautious in a potential lawsuit situation.

He wiped a hand over his face. "God. So all the talk about possible paralysis was true?"

"Unfortunately, yes it is."

Neal sighed. "I knew it, but I was hoping-"

"I understand." Regina nodded, and in a way, she did. "Will there be anything else, Mr. Nolan?"

"Neal. Call me Neal. I kind of feel like we're old friends after all this." His smile was soft, crooked. His expression was sincere.

Regina cringed internally. She refused to engage in that level of familiarity. "While I understand your reasoning, I don't think that would be appropriate."

He deflated a bit, and his shoulders slumped. "I can understand that. I'm a cop. We all have procedures. Professional boundaries."

The conversation had gone on long enough to make her uneasy. It was time to go. "Is there anything else—"

"Can you just come take a look at my sister? I know she's alive and all, but I just want to make sure—"

"Dr. Whale hasn't been in yet?"

"Not this morning, no."

The man was exasperating but well liked at Maine General and not just by the female staff. She couldn't figure out why. "Yes, I can do that."

Regina followed him even though she knew the way. As she entered the room, a petite, dark-haired woman stood to greet her. She looked to be in her mid fifties. "Good morning, doctor."

She nodded. "Mills. It's Dr. Mills. I'm the attending."

Though the woman looked confused, she continued to smile. "Mary Margaret Nolan."

In reply, Regina picked up Emma Swan's chart. She flipped through the pages and glanced at the woman in question. Emma was sleeping soundly. It wasn't a pretty sight. Her mouth was open, and her features were pinched like she smelled something sour. It probably had more to do with discomfort caused by her injuries. Emma's long blonde hair stuck up at odd angles but still fanned out on the stark white pillow.

"She looks so weak right now. That's just not her."

"She suffered significant injuries and blood loss, but her pallor and strength will return with time," Regina said.

"That's not what she means. Em is a badass. Wait 'til she feels better. I guarantee she's going to be the worst patient you ever had."

Regina glanced from Neal to his mother, then she peered at Emma and evaluated her carefully. The woman was tall, stocky yet covered in a lean layer of muscle. Her face was aesthetically pleasing, but she appeared to be nothing more than an average woman. There was nothing special about her. Regina looked at Neal skeptically.

"Trust me," he said.

Dr. Mills moved toward the head of the bed to check the surgical sites. She started with the most severe. Emma's eyelashes flickered, and she groaned. "Fuck."

Well. That was unexpected. Regina was taken aback by the language. Emma's voice was deep and gravely, which somehow made the utterance more powerful.

Neal laughed suddenly, startling the doctor. She turned to see mother and son smiling and holding hands.

So, it was obviously common for her to start every interaction with cursing.

"Miss Swan? Can you hear me?"

"What?" Emma mumbled.

"Can you hear me?" Regina asked once more.

"Yes, fuck. What do you want?"

She cursed twice in a matter of minutes. Regina definitely sensed a pattern.

"I'm Dr. Mills. I'm going to check your surgical sites for signs of infection. This may be uncomfortable."

Emma opened her eyes completely. The telltale post-surgery haze cleared gradually until Emma stared back at her with sharply focused green eyes.

"Okay." Emma rumbled. "Killian, my partner-"

"He's in recovery. He has a significant spinal injury."

"Fuck."

That made three. Regina sighed internally. "Yes. When the inflammation recedes, we will know more."

"Okay."

Emma's green eyes darkened, and Regina was captivated by the intensity of her stare. She felt odd. Unnerved by the scrutiny, she continued with Emma's examination. When she glanced up again, her eyes were thankfully closed.

Regina stepped back and turned to Neal and Mary Margaret. "Everything looks as it should. She will be in a fair amount of pain. The bullet to her leg didn't hit bone, but some rehabilitation will be needed to return the muscle to full functionality."

Mary Margaret smiled. "Thank you, Dr. Mills."

Regina returned the smile. "You're welcome."

The Nolan-Swan family seemed to be genuinely kind, something they extended to everyone who came into their radius, and she didn't understand why. Why be nice to someone who isn't in return? Regina brushed the thought aside and left the room in pursuit of something less emotional and a lot safer. Surgery was the first thing—the only thing—to spring to mind, but it would have to wait.

Regina marched down the hall to the elevator and pushed the button to call it to her floor. After a few seconds, she heard laughter coming from inside. It stopped when the doors slid open.

Several of the occupants were part of the medical staff. They looked everywhere except at her. She stepped in anyway. She was used to the whispers and the stares from the residents and other hospital employees. Sometimes, they called her "iceberg princess." Other times, it was "queen mean." Regina refused to be bothered by it. Besides, any reaction would just be fodder for gossip, and she had no intensions of feeding that beast.

When the elevator reached her destination, Regina stepped out and left the others to continue their rumormongering. She made an educated guess as to Dr. Whale's location, the senior resident's lounge was where he usually spent his perceived downtime, mingling with the other residents. She pushed against the lounge door. Strangely, it was locked. Undeterred, Regina took out her keys and opened it.

Dr. Whale cursed and scrambled from the couch.

Dr. Boyd, one of the residents, gasped and struggled to cover herself. As she quickly dressed and made her way to the door, she avoided eye contact completely.

Obviously, mingling was not a strong enough word.

"It's not what it..." His voice trailed off.

Regina stared at him. He was more intelligent than that, but Regina knew pedigree wasn't the same as having common sense. In most cases, it was a completely separate concept. "Shouldn't you be making rounds?"

His face reddened. "I was. I—"

"Yes, I see."

He glowered at her. "You really don't care, do you?"

"About?" Regina asked.

"Us."

"There is no-"

"Us! I know that. How can you not care? Do you know what you did to me?"

"This conversation is moot as well as redundant." They were done. It was a simple fact, yet he refused to accept it.

"The hell it is. I had sex with you, and my whole life fell apart. I couldn't think about anything else." He walked toward her. He was a decidedly handsome man. With blonde hair and chiseled features, he was a prime representation of the male of the species. "And all you were doing was scratching an itch."

Sex with him had been a mistake. Regina knew this, but he had been willing, presumably unattached, and had promised to be discreet. "Is there some reaction I can mimic that will satisfy you and end this?"

"My fiancé-"

Yes, that. If she'd known that a fiancé existed, none of this would have happened. Her lack of information concerning Whale's relationship was a direct drawback of not being social. This was a lesson learned, and even though she dismissed a majority of gossip, Regina was more aware of the happenings inside the hospital now. Regardless, he was definitely not the man he pretended to be. Aggravated with his dramatics, she cut him off. "That was your doing, not mine."

He closed his mouth, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. "What do you want, Regina?"

"You inspire incompetence all around you, Victor. The residents worship you, but that doesn't equate to actual skill."

"What are you talking about?"

"Killian Jones."

"Dr. Booth was there to assist, but Ruby was more than ready to do

this on her own—"

"Was that according to you or your genitalia?" He turned away without giving an answer.

"She missed the liver lac. It was small but enough to kill him."

He turned his head fast enough to cause whiplash. "What? But, Booth was there. You should be chewing him out too."

"I discussed it with him, and now, because you're chief resident, she is mainly your responsibility so I'm bringing it to your attention as well." Regina didn't elaborate further. It wasn't unnecessary. "I trust that this won't happen again?"

Victor's face darkened to a deep red, and Regina assumed his expression was fueled by shame. He nodded.

As far as she was concerned, this discussion was over on every level. Not sparing him another glance, she exited the lounge. Whale didn't deserve any more of her time, and she refused to give it. She looked at the board detailing the surgical rotation, then at the clock. The tension drained from Regina's shoulders. She tingled with anticipation. There was nothing better than this. It was time to scrub in.