Note: Thanks to my lovely beta, Miriam Lange. I would be lost without her.
I wrote this OS inspired by this Captain Swan [AMAZING, INCREDIBLE] video. So, I suggest you to watch it: watch?feature=player_embedded&v=sBeliJGtvkE
Summary: Hook, Regina, Robin, Emma and David are trying to beat the Wicked Witch, but she's not ready to kill'em all, not yet. But she decides to make a cruel move to entertain herself: what's better than show Killian's past in front of their eyes and make them realize who he really is?
If I lose myself
The town was disarranged, chaotic, and dark, like the Wicked Witch wanted it to be. It was easy to smell it, the fear that was poisoning the inhabitants of that little, almost-too-fairy-like little town that didn't belong there. It was easy to smell because the fear was everywhere, haunting streets, and houses, and hearts. And, in the middle of that scourge, she took away more than one of their loved ones, spreading around her laugh as a fitful warning to tell them that it wasn't over. Not until she could get her revenge.
Standing in the middle of the main road, there they were, the heroes of the town, the bravest ones, the ones that were supposed to defeat her and bring back happiness to Storybrooke or wherever they wanted to live. Prince Charming, Emma Swan, Killian Jones, Regina Mills, Robin Hood: wounded, and tired, and scared to lose the people they cared about the most. And there she was, the green Wicked Witch who had executed the most devilish plan they've ever faced in their lives. The air smelled of blood, and tears, and anger, and evilness. That woman was able to bring out the worst in them: the pirate, the evil queen, the thief, the surviving orphan, the proud prince, son of a shepherd. How were they supposed to kill her if they were not able to overcome their own fears and vulnerabilities?
She laughed, a long, amused, almost pure laugh. It came from her red lips as gentle as a breeze and they couldn't help but tremble. Emma was lying down on the floor, her hair dirty with her own blood and Killian tried to reach her in an attempt to keep her safe, to protect her from the next threat, the next wicked move. That one wasn't the final battle, they realized that pretty quickly. It was a test, made to study them and understand their temperament.
He moved a step forward, the fabric of his black leather coat moving just behind him, his body tense and bruised, his hook soaked with blood. He felt her amusement the second he reached Emma and helped her get back on her feet. She had ordered them not to move until countermand and they were too exhausted to answer back. Even Regina. But he couldn't leave Emma on that floor, because it was as painful as being pierced by the claws of the witch.
"Oh! So brave!" the Wicked Witch said, almost pleased by his behavior, somehow reminding him of Cora. "Aren't you a lucky woman, Emma Swan? Not even your father lifted a finger to help you," she continued, dark amusement in her voice. "And here he is, a strikingly handsome man ready to be punished just for you."
Killian escaped Emma's gaze, knowing all too well that she was scared and even mad at him for not listening to the witch. But she couldn't have been surprised; he never listened to anyone but his gut, just as much as she used to.
"Let's see what we have here!" the green woman said and Killian couldn't fight the invisible embrace that encircled his body, abruptly accompanying him with the powerful witch.
"No!" he heard Emma scream, but it was too late to try to make a move, 'cause he was already there, at the witch's fingertips, at her complete mercy.
"Oh, worry not, beautiful and foolish savior!" Killian gritted his teeth, when the fingers of the witch caressed his chest hair, almost seductively, but her smile and her eyes were as cold as someone who wasn't capable of feeling any desire, no matter how handsome a man could be. She was craving revenge, overwhelmed by it. There was no room for love, or pleasure. "I won't hurt him," she fell quiet for a moment, her smile growing on her lips as red as living blood. "Not physically, at least."
"Let him go, witch." David's words were spat out as a threat, when he slowly started to move forward to try to reach Killian.
"You're acting like a fool, prince. I'll kill him in front of your daughter's eyes, if you don't come to a halt." Her gaze finally abandoned Killian's body, just to pierce Emma's green eyes and challenge her. "There's so much you don't know about this man, savior."
At those words, the pirate closed his eyes, gaining an understanding of what her aim was. She wanted to show Emma how deplorable he had been during his life, how many women he had slept with, not even caring about their name, how many men's blood he had had on his hands. Altough it wasn't the proper time, he couldn't stop the laugh that came to his lips, realizing that the plan of the Witch was going to make it even more impossible for him to break Emma's walls and win her heart.
Zelena drew her attention back to him, a curious look on her – despite everything – beautiful face. Her cobalt blue eyes pierced his stormy, darker ones, searching for answers in his soul, and Killian was so certain he understood her intentions that he was astonished when he realized he was wrong. Her mouth curved in the most contemptible smirk he had ever seen, when she lowered her heard until their noses softly bumped.
"I'm going to show her the things you've never wanted anyone to know, captain," she whispered, and, gesturing with her right hand, a human-size cloud appeared in the middle of the street, standing in front of the heroes' eyes. And suddenly his past came to life, played by that green cloud.
"Stop it!" he yelled, pure rage on his features, in his voice.
The cloud showed them the child version of Killian Jones, a beautiful, breath-taking, sweet little boy hopping across the harbor with a spiteful grin on his lovely mouth, amazement in his face in front of the all the stands and the creaming peddlers his eyes were scanning with curiosity. And, all of a sudden, his vitality was ripped out of him, tears-stained cheeks and lips trembling in a desperate attempt to call his daddy, to convince him to come back, even though his ship was too far for him to hear his son's pleas.
Then, the image of little Killian was replaced by the lieutenant Jones, so handsome and still so young, and brave, and innocent. "I will follow you till the ends of the earth, brother". His words echoed into the ghostly, ravaged Storybrooke, allowing Emma and Charming to realize how much Killian truly loved his brother and it touched their souls when they watched Liam collapsing and Hook grabbing him, tears streaming down his face, more desperate than he had ever been since that moment. That day he lost more than a brother, because he lost his whole family, his world, the only one person he could count on, the person he had loved the most, the only one who came back when their father abandoned him in that harbor.
"What a tragedy!" The Wicked Witch looked at him carelessly, amused by the despair she could see in his eyes. It looked like all that time wasn't able to soothe his pain.
"I will kill you, even if it is the last thing I do." His voice was a faint growl, the features of his charming face a mask of viciousness and all of them saw him, the ruthless Captain Hook Emma was able to defeat and to bring Killian Jones back. There was no mercy, no hesitation, no fear in the blue of his eyes. Only blood lust.
Again, the cloud played a totally different scenario. Emma recognized the black-leather outfit she was used to see him in, a red vest instead of the black one, and eventually she had the chance to know Milah, the beautiful woman he loved for a lifetime. She could see why he was mad about her: she was stunning, and imperious, and somehow wild. But even more than that Emma could see why his quest for revenge had lasted so long, and so could Regina, Robin and David. When they watched the scene of a shirtless, handsome, happy Killian in his quarters smiling at Milah, and bending on his knees to caress her thus far flat stomach, and looking at her with the most beautiful smile Emma had ever seen of his face, they put together every piece of the story. They were pregnant. It wasn't hard for them to understand – truly understand – the man they couldn't trust for a very long time, 'cause each person in the group was a parent as well. Emma started to weep without even realizing it and she hid her face behind her hands, her shoulders jumping and her body shaking uncontrollably. She didn't even watch Rumplestilskin rip Milah's heart out of her chest and crush it mercilessly; she only heard her whispered last "I love you" to Killian and felt David's arms encircle her body to comfort her. A tear ran over Regina's cheek and Robin promptly held her hand. How could she have been so blind, not seeing how wounded he was?
A tear escaped the control of her hands and, for the first time since she got her memories back, she let herself feel something for him. No more walls, no more games, no more denying. Emma was scared and injured, but more than that she was confused. She couldn't remember the last time her brain fell so quiet, she couldn't remember the last time she was able to hear her heart's voice over the categorical imperative imposed by her mind, but it felt good.
A gentle warmth spread across her body, so delicate and strong at the same time that she sighed in pleasure, her eyes closed. But it wasn't just a misleading perception, not even a hallucination. It was magic! Emma felt it spreading through the street as a powerful wind, and it looked like it was storming. The squall was coming from all sides and, when it reached them, it churned every tree, every car, every inch of that town's spot. She didn't know what was actually happening and she couldn't even realize it. With closed eyes, her mind was recollecting memories of a child, of a young boy, of a hurt man she couldn't identify, although she felt she knew him, the only permanent feature his gusty, all too experienced blue eyes.
The moment Emma let go of the warmth, she passed out. The last things she heard were the enraged shouts of Zelena, her father screaming her name, the distant crackle of leather coming closer.
The next morning, the wind was blowing gently when Emma found the docks and her gaze focused on the black silhouette she was looking for. Killian's coat was fluttering about, moved by the breeze, but the man himself was motionless, almost petrified, his eyes travelling across the sea. She approached him quietly and they remained that way for a very long time, until he finally sighed and turned his head to look at her. Emma was beautiful with strands of her blond hair moving in the wind. A small smirk curved his lips, when his hand reached her face and he caressed the little scar on her cheek with his thumb. Eventually, she looked back at him, both misty-eyed.
"I'm so sorry…" she whispered, her voice broken, quivering as he completely turned to face her.
"I know you are!" he murmured, getting closer and cupping her other cheek with his hook, and although it could appear unusual and wrong, she leant against the cold silver of his appendage. And her gesture couldn't have been more apt, considering how much she cared about him, every part of him. "Because you are the most wonderful, kind woman I've ever met and you have this amazing heart that makes me love you, even when you are bloody stubborn."
She couldn't help but chuckle at that and his smile fully grew until she felt butterflies in her stomach. They were both so broken and injured that it almost looked like a mistake, the possibility of them being together.
"Said the man who has a strong inclination to get himself killed, or punched, or chained." Killian raised an eyebrow, as if he was dearly scolding and weighing her words at the same time.
"Fair enough!" he fell quiet for a moment, his expression suddenly serious. "And thank you for using your magic to punish her."
Emma didn't remember anything of what happened the moment her emotions overcame her and magic started to flow in her veins. When she woke up, David told her she hit the Wicked Witch with her power, throwing her against the wall of a building until she almost screamed in pain and breaking the invisible embrace that was holding Killian. And there was nothing Zelena could do against the bubble she unconsciously created to protect all of them, so that she disappeared in the same green cloud she used to show Killian's past.
Recollecting the memories of his life, Emma realized how long she had been waiting not just for a man like him, but for Killian himself. Maybe, her mother was coercing her somehow, convincing her to be the character of a story, the princess daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming everyone was expecting her to be, but she actually started to think about him in a fairy tale perspective. She was letting herself being conquered by the man he was and the man he had been. She liked him, she admitted it to herself more than a year ago when she was at risk to lose her composure at the thought of never seeing him again. He made her feel loved, and beautiful, and strong, and brilliant, and powerful for the first time in her life, and, even though he had seen the orphan she used to be since they first met, he was also able to see the woman she had become. But even more than that, he was able to see Emma.
The day before, when the Wicked Witch disrespected Killian and the pain he had been through, Emma sort of returned the favor, because she allowed herself to realize he was more than Captain Hook to her. She increased her awareness of how much he had touched her. The gentle caress of his hand on Milah's bump and the way he had smiled at her was stuck in her mind, making it impossible for her not to feel what she had been denying and pushing away the whole time. Killian Jones was a man capable of pure love, loyalty, honor, bravery, sacrifice and she was the chosen one, the second woman able to deserve his love. Emma couldn't help but think that Milah would have slapped her stupid face if she had the chance. Because no wise woman could have rejected a man like him, not even the Savior, daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.
Standing in front of him, Emma realized she had craved True Love, and loyalty, and dedication for a lifetime, but she had turned them down the moment a man showed he was able to handle her. And he actually was! He could handle the orphan, the little girl who had been abused, and beaten, and left, and betrayed, and let down; he could handle the Savior, so resigned about her future, so careless about her own happiness, so concentrated to preserve the happy endings of the people around her to realize she needed one of her own. He could simply handle Emma, every version of her: the mother, the daughter, the fighter, the wounded girl, the survivor, the woman. Even when she was pushing him away, or, at least, trying to.
"You deserved it. The three of you."
The moment when those words left her lips, his smile disappeared and tears came to his eyes, making him look so young and wrecked that Emma thought she hurt him. But the truth was that she had touched him in a way no one had ever been able to, brushing against the chords of his pockmarked, scarred soul where his demons imprisoned Killian Jones for a very a long time, replacing him with the ruthless Captain Hook.
For that reason, Emma remained dumbstruck when he crushed his mouth against hers and kissed her, as if he wanted to both suck and blow life into her lungs and make her raise again. It took more than a second for Emma to recompose herself, but once she did she kissed Killian back with the same bare passion. Her fingers plunged into his dark hair, neck-deep, and she got him closer until her whole body was overwhelmed by the way his tongue was fighting against hers and by the way they were destroying themselves, exchanging their desire and affection like with osmosis.
When his mouth started to kiss her gently, coddling her lips as if he wanted to take care of them the same way he stormed them minutes ago, the only one thing Emma could feel was the firm grip of his arms around her along with their labored breathing, fusing each other. Resting his forehead against Emma's, Killian looked at her, his blue eyes darkened with fear. The final battle was coming up that night.
"If I lose myself tonight, it'll be by your side." He promised her, and Emma couldn't stop the shiver running down her body. His embrace tightened and they both looked scared, scared to lose all they had, and, more than that, what they could have. Her hands slid from his neck until she grabbed the collar of his coat between her fingers.
"If we lose tonight, it will be you and I."