Be the Light I Can See, the Everything I Can Touch
part one
let my love in [lay your heart on me]
The lord of the Underworld lounged in his throne of molding corpses and bones bleached white with time, admiring his own brilliance as he twirled the accursed seal in his palm. His hand, while not obviously overplayed, would draw the Swan woman and her posse deep into his toxic web, where he would be patiently waiting like the spider he was. His mouth grew wet just thinking of the fun he would soon be having – endless hours of torture and fawning at his feet.
Mayhap he could even bribe one or two of them to stick around for a while longer. He was nearly beside himself with anticipation until a grating voice shirked him from his reverie, and he turned his attention to the newest addition to his collection.
"I've long since learned to dread that smile on your face, dearie. Care to share?"
He chortled to himself, suddenly realizing he'd forgotten the Dark One he'd locked in the dungeon of his torture chamber – his favorite room in all his realm. "As a matter of fact, yes. I would absolutely love to share with you my plan to entrap the Savior and her family in that little cell next to yours."
The man behind the bars didn't even blink. "Is it wise to assert yourself in such a game, when it is only the pirate you are after?"
"Oh, dearie," he sneered, "of course. My plans always keep. By the time they realize what I've done, the pirate will be begging for merciful death to claim him – it's really a shame he's already there, is it not? – and the Savior will have no choice but to accept my deal."
The other man was silent, but that was the only encouragement Hades needed to continue. "Just you wait, Dark One. My home will soon be filled with my beloved pets."
She idly wondered if gravity worked any differently here than in Storybrooke, or if the weight on her chest was simply metaphorically becoming harder to bear. There was too much at stake, too many chains weighing down her hands and feet and stifling her every move. Her family would stick beside her through the thick and thin, but they wouldn't have even been here had she moved on, accepted fate and the fact that the love of her life was dead and rotting in Dante's Inferno.
But she'd led them here, after all, and they were counting on her to keep them alive long enough to return to the worlds of the living, to everyone else they cared about. Even through the haze of her determination, the questions still sprung up, unbidden and cruel.
Would it be her fault when her baby brother was left an orphan?
Would she be to blame when Henry never had the chance to grow up?
No matter where she looked, she was still at the heart of it all, and somehow she managed to find ways to rationalize it whenever she needed to defend herself to herself.
She'd gotten this far with the mantra in her head: You will get them out of here, Emma. You will. There's no other alternative. She wasn't about to give up now, not when they were already so close.
Turning away from her morbid thoughts to Killian limping beside her, miserable and bloody and exhausted, she decided that she could do this. She would do this. She would do this for him, for them, and for all of their futures.
The group trudged under Regina's cloaking spell through the square of Underbrooke, somber and quiet and absorbed in their own thoughts. Her parents led the procession, with Henry and Regina not far behind, while she and Killian held up the rear, several paces away so that the sound of Regina's heels was barely distinguishable in the hot, musty wind.
The pirate was struggling to keep pace with her, his breaths short and ragged as he stumbled onward, hand and hook folded against his middle.
"Hey," she whispered, fingers gently curling around his elbow. "Do you want to rest for a minute?"
Bright blue eyes peered down at her, and though she knew he was covered in blood and burns and cuts, all she could see was the timid relief in his face as she reached for him.
His hair was matted over his forehead, his scruff long and soft under her fingertips, and for a moment she felt as though she could forget where they were and why they were there. But then his jaw clenched as another wave of pain seemed to wash through him anew, and he swayed forward, eyes sliding shut.
She caught him easily, holding him to her as tightly as she dared, steadying herself in the process. No more harm could come to him now that she stood at his side, and if it tried, it would have to go through her first.
"C'mon. Let's get you home and cleaned up," she said, stepping away only once she was sure he had his bearings, keeping an arm securely around his waist. "And if you behave, I might even sneak a bottle of rum past my parents."
It was only the second smile he'd given her since his rescue and she couldn't keep a smirk of her own off her face at its unexpected appearance. "You know me almost too scrupulously, Swan."
"You say that like it's not a good thing."
He coughed out a laugh, grinning down at her with a sly look in his eye. "You're in love with a pirate, darling. We're notoriously known for being up to no good."
She had him lie down on her bed once they'd arrived at the loft. Downstairs, her parents and Regina circled the kitchen island, discussing plans and tactics and magical elements in muted tones (and completely ignored her when she'd tiptoed past with a bottle of rum hidden in her jacket). Henry had closed himself off in his room, taking out the frustration of writer's block on his notebook, tearing out page after page and crumpling them into balls to be tossed in the trash.
Her attention was brought back to Killian as he winced against the pillows, the quilt creasing underneath his tender back. His breathing had settled marginally since he could stretch out and take some of the weight off his ribs and sprained ankle. She'd already helped him shuck his leather jacket and shoes and untuck his belt, weakly hoping he could rest a mite more comfortably until she could summon forth her powers and heal all his hurts and magic him into some pajamas.
She was beyond terrified to even try to perform such a menial task.
Memories from the last time she healed him threatened to overtake her, but she pushed back just as stubbornly, refusing to let her fear keep her from soothing the man she loved.
Gingerly, she sat on the bed, leaning forward enough to press a quick kiss to his lips, tasting the spicy sweetness of his skin. "Are you sure you can handle this, Captain?" she asked jokingly to cover her unease.
Another smile lit up his face. "Oh, I'm almost certain I can, love."
She returned it briefly before closing her eyes, concentrating, imagining her pool of magic to be something solid, something she could grab, and reached for it, easing the familiar warmth into her fingertips and onto his skin.
She didn't hear his agonized screams until too many seconds too late.
Her eyes wrenched themselves open to find him struggling to get away from her, breathy sobs breaking from his chest, tears of pain and exertion falling down his face and forging trails through the grime she'd meant to erase. His body writhed, muscles clenching and unclenching as the spasms continued. "Emma," he stammered, pleading and desperate. "It hurt – hurts..."
She immediately pulled away, yanking her hands from his skin, shame and apologies and more shame and unshakable fear screaming through her as she stepped from the bed.
"Killian – oh, God, I'm so – I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
"Emma!" her mother's shout came, followed by several sets of footsteps mounting the stairs to the loft. "What's going on? What –"
She felt her father's arms wrap around her shaking frame, heard him whispering that it wasn't her fault, but her guilt-stricken eyes never left Killian.
Now that she was no longer touching him, he'd calmed slightly, body heaving as he curled in on himself. She wasn't sure he was even conscious as Snow approached the bed and placed soothing hands on his hair and shoulder.
"Emma, what happened?"
"I – I was just trying to – to heal him, but my magic… I don't know what's happen – happening to me," she wept. "I didn't want to hurt him – I never want to hurt him."
Her father shushed her quietly, hugging her to him. "Emma, we know that. He'll be okay. This is not your fault, are you hearing me? We'll figure this out." Her mother quickly murmured her own agreement, eyes wet, as she added her arms to the embrace.
"Emma," Killian rasped weakly, hand reaching for her, and her parents released their hold, inching back downstairs, but she found she couldn't take a step closer, too afraid she'd only hurt him further.
She'd already done enough damage as it was.
"Please," he whimpered, quietly enough to shatter her heart with the single syllable. He choked on another sob when he saw she hadn't moved, turning his face deeper into the pillows, and she broke as he did.
Her feet were laden with iron and her pulse thrummed loudly in her ears as she crept to the bed, coming to lie down beside him, careful not to touch him or jostle the bed or breathe loudly or crowd him.
He wasn't having any of it, however, instead – automatically, unflinchingly, fearlessly – tucking himself closer to her, his head on her chest, his hand gripping the fabric of her shirt, breathing a shaky sigh against her collarbone.
"Stay?" he slurred, already half asleep.
She ran one hand through his hair and settled the other lightly under his ribs. "I'm not going anywhere, not without you," she murmured, kissing his forehead.
Once he had relaxed fully into her, she whispered the words to his slumbering form, pressed the feeling into his skin with her lips.
"I love you."
Author's Note: Part 2 tomorrow! Hopefully. :)