Disclaimer: Not my characters. Just borrowing.

This is set between 6x02 and 6x03, so Emma's magic is still working, but it's starting to become unreliable.

Chapter One

"Mom?"

Emma gripped the phone more tightly and felt her heart begin to race. Henry, who had lived through more than most sixty year olds, sounded young, so young and scared.

"Mom, he's hurt. The Dwarfs were messing around and… and the rigging came loose and… he was trying to stop it and Leroy got in the way and he hit his head and he's bleeding and-"

"Breathe, kid," she ordered, trying to stay calm herself.

Killian had taken a group for a pleasure cruise on a nice sunny day. Since coming back from the Underworld he'd spent more time than usual on the Jolly Roger. His ship and the sea were home and peace and contentment to him and she was in favor of anything that helped to soothe him after what he had suffered.

The addition of the new arrivals from the Land of Untold Stories had added to the town's stress, followed by the mess with the Count and the reappearance of the not-quite-dead Evil Queen. An afternoon on the water had been just the ticket for a few hours of relaxation. The only reason Emma had stayed behind was another session with Archie.

"Who's hurt? Is it Killian?" She knew it was. Her son wouldn't be this panicked otherwise. They were all a little oversensitive where he was concerned and she'd been given more than one lecture that it wasn't good to wrap dastardly pirates in cotton wool. She'd happily introduced him to the concept of bubble wrap and told him that he'd died and he was going to have to suck it up. Even a paper cut was too much at this point. She'd opted for a magical haircut to tame his mane, because the thought of scissors near anything vital had been too much.

"He's bleeding and… I can't even see him since I'm steering the ship and when he fell he… Mom, he… he won't wake up." She heard him hold the phone away and shout. "Grumpy, stop yelling! I'm talking to my mom! No, the other one!"

Emma was torn between pride that her son was capable of sailing a ship like the Jolly Roger and horror at this new bit of information. Killian had fallen in addition to hitting his head. She didn't know whether hitting his head had resulted in the fall, or the fall had resulted in hitting his head. Neither was good.

"Henry," she said, purposely using his name to get his attention. "It'll be ok. I can heal him. He'll be fine in no time."

"Ok," he said, and she heard him take a deliberate calming breath. It was an awful thought that this kind of thing happened often enough that her kid had experience with calming techniques despite being so young.

"How far out are you?" she asked. "I can use my magic to come to the ship, then take him to the hospital." She needed to see Killian. There was no way she was waiting for an ambulance to take him.

"We're coming in now. We were lowering the sails when it happened." He once again held the phone away. "Leroy! You guys need to get the mooring ropes ready."

Emma didn't wait any longer. She gathered her magic around her. One second she was sitting at the sheriff's station, the next she was standing outside watching the Jolly Roger ease up to the dock. The Dwarfs began lowering the gangplank and tying the ship up, but Emma hardly paid any attention. She moved from the dock to the ship almost without thought.

Emma scanned the deck and her eyes immediately zeroed in on her target. Belle and Doc were kneeling on either side of Killian, but she could see enough. His face was a bloody mess and, completely unbidden, images of finding him in the Underworld filled her mind. Killian still hadn't told her everything, and she doubted he ever would. That didn't stop her from wondering, or worrying.

"About time you got here, sister."

Grumpy was right in front of her, and she realized she'd just been standing there, staring like an idiot. "I got here as fast as I could," she said, knowing she sounded defensive.

"Then get to it. He's gonna be ticked he got blood on the deck. You shoulda seen him when Dopey dropped his Yoo-hoo."

"Mom!" Henry nearly skidded to a halt beside her. He was at that awkward age where he would love to hug her and let her comfort him, but he was trying so hard to be brave and be like the man he was becoming that he kept his distance.

"It's ok, kid. We'll get him fixed up."

And she would. Despite Henry's misguided efforts to rid them of magic, Emma still had hers and at the moment she was beyond grateful. Magic was a wonderful thing when an injury-prone pirate was a part of her life.

Emma hurried to Killian's side and knelt. There was a large bruise already forming on one side of his face from cheek to forehead and blood was coming from a gash hidden in his hair. She knew head wounds were ugly, and this was no exception. He was still bleeding badly despite Doc having grabbed a cloth from somewhere to put pressure on the wound.

"We were trying to help lower the sails," Doc explained, "but we were doing something wrong and he left Henry at the wheel to jerk a knot in our tails, he said. We were goofing around and we'd fouled the lines somehow. He climbed up to fix it, but… something came loose and then he got tangled up and fell."

Emma was only half listening. The glory of her magic was that she didn't have to know exactly what was wrong to fix it. She focused, gathering a picture of how Killian should look.

For a moment, Killian was surrounded by the glow of her magic. When it faded, the blood was gone, including from the deck and his clothes, as was the bruise. The gash hidden in his hair was closed and she released her particular focus on healing a concussion or worse. They all waited, breath held. He looked fine, normal, except…

"Killian?" Emma leaned over him and tapped his cheek, but there was no response. "Killian?" she said, louder this time, accompanied by a harder slap.

"Come on, Killian," Belle said breathlessly. Emma had a spare moment to worry about causing extra stress to a pregnant woman, but set it aside. Belle was anything but a wilting flower.

"Time to wake up, brother," Grumpy tried. He dropped down beside Doc and dug his knuckles into Killian's breastbone in a typically overzealous Grumpy version of a sternal rub. Emma nearly groaned in sympathy, but Killian gave no response other than a hint of a frown and a puff of an unhappy breath.

"No, no, no." Emma leaned farther over him, grasping the lapels of his jacket. "Don't do this."

She heard a noise, rope stretching then snapping, and looked up just in time to dodge out of the way as a bit of rigging swung within inches of her face. She remembered Killian calling it a dead-eye lanyard. She'd thought the name was creepy, but at the moment, all she could think was that it could have easily knocked her unconscious. Killian took meticulous care of his ship and she knew he was going to be furious when he woke up, if he woke up.

She could feel herself going numb inside. This could not be happening again.

"I got it," Henry called, grabbing the loose rigging before it could swing back. He quickly tucked it in with some of the other ropes to keep it from swinging free. "Mom, get him to the hospital. I'll call Grandma and Grandpa and we'll meet you there."

Emma barely nodded, between one blink and the next transporting them both to the hospital. Instead of the deck, she was kneeling on the hard tile of the waiting room floor with Killian in her arms.

A passing nurse yelped at their appearance, but quickly settled and called for a gurney. Magical arrivals, she supposed, were common enough in Storybrooke that they took it in stride.

"What happened?" the nurse asked.

"He was on his ship. He fell and hit his head."

"How far did he fall?"

"I… I don't know, but I healed him."

"Healed him?"

"You know…" She made a twisting motion with her hand. "Healed him… But he's not waking up and he should be." Her magic had seemed to work, but maybe something had gone wrong. The hand tremors and the vision… Emma had a horrible thought that maybe her magic had failed her somehow.

A flurry of people appeared and before she could protest, Killian was lifted out of her arms and onto a gurney.

It was too much. Too much like before. Killian… Eyes closed… A gurney taking him away from her…

She could feel the numbness rolling over her, swallowing her. Numbness was better than the all-encompassing terror of losing him again. Vague thoughts of PTSD tumbled through her brain along with… Now? After curses and witches and snow queens and death and the underworld? Now she couldn't seem to get herself together?

"Emma? Honey?" Her mother was kneeling in front of her with wide, terrified eyes. "What happened? Is he…"

Emma couldn't answer. She wanted to, but couldn't make her mouth work and finally, her mother rose and walked away, only to return a few moments later.

"The nurse says they're running tests and we should wait for a bit." She took Emma's hands in hers. "Let's get you up off the floor, ok?"

Emma blinked and realized her father was there and so was Henry, and she was scaring them all.

But Killian… She wasn't supposed to face disaster for him. Not yet… not for a long time.

Her father helped her stand and kept her steady, guiding her like a child to a nearby plastic chair in the waiting room. Her mom put a cup in her hand and she raised it to her lips mechanically.

"It's juice. The sugar will help," Snow said.

Henry was holding her other hand and she gave it a squeeze. She looked at him and her son's determined expression helped as well. After everything he'd been through and seen, he still believed enough for all of them.

Belle must have stayed hidden on the ship, but the Dwarfs arrived en masse. The accompanying cacophony was almost enough to make her retreat into herself again, but she gave Henry's hand another squeeze and stood it, gritting her teeth.

They remained there, silently waiting until Emma thought she would scream at the lack of news. Henry called Regina to let her know what had happened. Regina was on Evil Queen patrol, and said to let her know if she was needed. The Dwarfs wandered in and out, while her father alternated between sitting beside her mother and pacing in the more open area of the waiting room, yelling at the Dwarfs to keep it down.

Finally, a dark-haired, middle aged nurse apparently grew tired of the noise and walked into the waiting area with her hands on her hips. "Visiting hours are over." She particularly eyed Leroy, who seemed to be the source of most of the commotion, but her glare also wandered over the other Dwarfs and David who had stopped pacing at her announcement. "You will all have to come back in the morning. The patients need quiet, including your friend."

"Killian?" Emma released Henry and stood.

"They're settling him in a room now."

"He's awake?"

"No," she said matter-of-factly. "Someone will come get you when you can see him." She eyed everyone else. "Just you. You were listed as his emergency contact the last time he was here."

Emma felt herself deflate. "Thank you," she said to the woman's already retreating back. Emma turned to the others who were looking at her expectantly. "You guys should go home." She glanced at her mother. "Can you take Henry with you?"

"I want to stay," he protested.

"I know, kid. But Killian's resting and you should, too. You can come back in the morning."

It took several minutes of more protests, followed by hugs and promises to call if anything changed or she needed anything, along with another, more stern tongue-lashing from the nurse about the end of visiting hours. Leroy in particular groused about being told to leave, and she knew his guilt was partly to blame for his behavior. Emma reassured him especially that he could come back first thing to check on Killian.

Once Emma was alone in the waiting room, she wished she could call them all back. The noise and the parental badgering to drink her juice were better than this silence. She was reduced to staring at the clock, then staring at the waiting room TV, then back to the clock. Finally, after an episode and a half of Family Feud reruns, the nurse reappeared and said, "I can take you back to him now."

Emma stood and followed her, bracing herself for the worst. When she stepped into the room, however, Killian looked as if he was sleeping peacefully, attached to nothing more than a heart monitor. He was in a hospital gown, and his belongings, hook and brace included, were stuffed in a plastic bag, sitting in a chair in the corner.

Whale was standing beside the bed writing something on a chart. "Emma. Back to blonde, I see."

She gritted her teeth. She didn't need a reminder of her platinum stint as the Dark One. "Still crap for a bedside manner, I see."

"Right." He set the chart aside. "Nobody in this town has a sense of humor." He cleared his throat. "As far as I can tell, there's nothing wrong with your boyfriend. He's actually better than I expected."

"Huh?" It wasn't very articulate, but it was all she had.

"I compared his scans and x-rays to the ones we did when he was struck by a car several years ago."

"And?"

"And at the time, there was evidence of multiple previous breaks… Ribs, a leg at some point, wrist, not the missing one, which must have made for a few really bad weeks, and evidence of multiple concussions, previous skull fractures."

Emma felt the blood draining from her face. "And now?"

"All gone. His bones look fresh as a daisy, which I'm assuming is thanks to you."

Emma knew she'd focused specifically on healing any injuries resulting from hitting his head. She didn't know if that had bled over into healing other skeletal anomalies. Sometimes her magic knew what it was doing better than she did. It might be that, or it might be a hidden gift from Zeus and Killian's return trip from rotting in his grave.

"Why isn't he waking up?"

Whale shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I'm more a scientist than anything else. The Queen is the magic expert around here. Although, I'm guessing nearly cracking your head open would be hard on a person, even if they are magically healed." He turned and looked at Killian, still sleeping peacefully. "We'll watch him overnight and hope he's just resting from the trauma, then we'll do a full reassessment in the morning."

Emma nodded, unable to take her eyes off him. She walked to the side of the bed and sat down at his hip. She reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of his face, then pulled the blanket up a little higher, smoothing it over his chest.

"I'll leave you alone," Whale said, already halfway out the door and on to another patient.

"Time to wake up, buddy," she whispered. "I'm starting to think you just like pulling the sympathy ploy. You're not getting out of helping me paint the downstairs bathroom."

As if in answer, he began to stir. He drew in a deeper breath as he woke and it felt like Emma could breathe for the first time since Henry called. Killian shifted slightly in the bed, then finally, his eyes opened. He blinked several times against the bright overhead lights and she could see the moment he realized she was there.

"Back again, Swan? People are going to get the wrong impression." His lascivious gaze raked over her. "Although I'd be more than happy to make it a reality."

Emma frowned. The tone was all wrong. The facial expressions… "Killian?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Killian, now, am I?" His sudden smirk was almost angry. "A bit late to try befriending me now, love. Although I do appreciate the lack of shackles." He raised his arm off the bed and waggled his fingers. "No point really, anyway. I'd just pick them again."

Emma rose from where she'd been sitting on the bed as a terrible realization began to dawn. "Hook?"

More soon...