The infamous Captain Hook and his equally dedicated accomplice, Mr. Smee both were hiding atop the buildings of Storybrooke waiting for the perfect moment to enact their devious plot. Killian Jones though being said deadly pirate was a man of great patience and paid no attention as the cold sea wind bit into his face and tousled his dark hair. Despite being able to see nearly the whole town from the rooftops, Hook kept his telescope trained carefully on Mr. Gold and his beautiful companion as they sat together in a booth at Granny's.
"Sir, uh, Captain" trembled a nervous and shivering Mr. Smee.
"Patience, Mr. Smee," Hook commanded loudly, "words are coming out of that mouth; you know how I feel about that"
Mr Smee's issue would have to wait. Hook and spent centuries planning and manipulating the perfect moment, he could wait
"I merely thought—" he mumbled
"You forget, Smee," Hook interjected harshly, momentarily fixing his piercing blue eyes on the smaller man. "You don't think. We move when I say."
Suddenly a commotion stirred his attention down in the square. The people of Storybrooke were gathering, whispering to themselves as it appeared their Savior, the great Emma Swan had returned from her travels.
He saw Emma marching angrily up the street hauling along a pathetic looking man in irons.
He turned, focusing his eye on the pair making their way up the road. The sniveling man apparently begging the steely eyed blonde, his pleas only making her radiating hostility stronger.
Hook couldn't help but smile to himself. "Been there mate' he murmured.
She tossed her long curls out of her face and threw the man at the feet of Rumplestiltskin who had emerged along with the rest of the town. The crowd instantly formed around the strange man as Emma turned away. Killian spotted her irritated form attempting to push away from the crowd. His smile widened as he noticed her frustration growing, the tension she tried to hide becoming more noticiable. He leaned over the side to see her better, leering at her.
Emma looked up catching his eye and shot him a critical glare before rolling her eyes. Hook felt like a mere flea trapped under her gaze, not worth her effort, barely a threat. He fumed at the thought, rage rising in his blood as he watched her emotions overtake her.
She walked, no almost staggered away from the crowd, as if wounded. Focusing his attentions on her, he alone saw her slip into an alley. He alone caught her leaning against a wall and weep bitterly.
Killian blinked with surprise. Emma Swan wasn't the type of women to expose her emotions in such a way. He couldn't imagine her letting any emotion besides anger leave her thick skin. Yet there she was, exposed, weakened.
"Wait here," he ordered passing the telescope to his confused yet thankfully silent collaborator and continued to make his way off the roof.
There weren't many moments when he could catch her in a moment of weakness. Despite the impulsiveness of his actions, he wouldn't pass up an opportunity like this.
His hate seemed to boil over as he walked quickly across the streets, stalking his prey. He drew his sword. He would not be bested by her again.
The anticipation was intoxicating; it stimulated every fiber of his being with purpose and arousal.
He could almost smell her. He imagined how he would take in her scent, savoring it. The heat of her body pressed against his just before he thrust his hook into her gut. His heart raced and his breathing turned ragged as he thought of her wide eyed confusion, the fearful gasps she would sound as she clung to him. He thought of her warm breath washing over his face as she moaned pathetically, searching his eyes for mercy. There would be none. Killian Jones could see himself pulling her more tightly against him, her soft skin brushing against his as he rolled his hook further inside her. His loud sigh as his pleasure rippled over and she succumbed into the darkness arching backwards. The superior savoir dead at his feet, her blood dripping red from his hook just like everyone else.
He turned a corner swiftly, planning on coming at her from behind. Every move calculated to perfection as he looked upon her. The sight of her stopped him cold in his tracks. Looking up to where Emma was sitting, instead of a weakened prey, he simply saw Emma.
Emma Swan was slouched against the wall openly sobbing and freely allowing tears to fall from her red eyes. Breasts heaving against the tight leather jacket that covered her shaking form.
Uneasiness crept up on him. He snarled, furious with himself.
Sword in hand, Killian Jones stepped out of the shadows. His eyes filled with malice he raised a confident chin ready to make good on all the promises he made.
Emma looked up, gasping at his presence. He turned his icy gaze into hers, prepared to face whatever he found there with hate.
But he couldn't find it.
It was at this moment when Killian Jones' heart melted. The blood-boiling rage replaced by an absolute peace. He lowered his sword, letting fall to the ground loudly. His body reacting before his brain could comprehend why.
Calm sky blue eyes met his piercing storming blue ones. Eyes boring in to his soul, she looked about at him through with an intense burning, ready for a fight. Her eyes, though red and puffy and distressed no less powerful. Watching her cry was like watching ice try to capture a world of fire.
He let out a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding as they both watched each other in silence.
It was in those eyes that he saw her for who she truly was. A life that had been molded from mistakes and self-doubt brought on by grief and misery that had become part of her armor. Complex emotions that she tried to bury from the world every day were not as well hidden as she thought because they created what she was. Eyes that had seen and understood the power and destruction love could have on a life. This was a woman who had seen the same sort of love he had known and had seen it ripped away from her very eyes. Killian Jones was in the presence of another being with list of frustrating complementing and contrasting qualities that made her just human as him.
Compassion, a feeling he thought he'd left behind long ago, filled his veins at the sight of such a vulnerable creature. There was another in this world who had known the horrors of love. He transformed, he was simply a man standing in front of a woman.
"What's wrong?" he asked stiffly his words flowing out of him like a heavy weight being lifted from his shoulders. Both surprised by his sincerity.
Her eyebrows knit together in the middle. The man she least expected to be caring about her problems being the only one who might understand why she felt that way
She scoffed, "I don't want to talk about it right now, I don't know that I can" her voice cracking, looking away.
Killian stepped forward, sitting down next to her. Cautiously, he placed a firm hand on her left bicep. Emma allowed herself one more sob before looking up at him.
They sat quietly yet in complete understanding, letting their breaths fill the space between them. A scene of two broken souls staying with the other.
There is a very fine line between hatred and love. That day, the deadly, revenge-thirsty, pirate captain learned that it was not hate that boiled his blood and pounded at his brain. It wasn't hate that aggressively distracted him after centuries of planning. Hate was not opening his heart.
