So, I sat down a few days ago fully intending to finish the next chapter of my WIP, but when I put pen to paper, the muse had other ideas - some rather evil, whumpy ideas that resulted in this. Essentially, the thought popped into my head to have a cursed Emma torture Killian so I decided to set it as part of the Black Fairy's maniacal plans. Keep in mind that the Emma we first encounter here is cursed to do Fiona's bidding as she heads toward the final battle, and she absolutely should rub some the wrong way. While this is at heart a CS story, it is definitely not going to be an easy road so I'm giving fair warning to anyone not looking for a very bumpy, whumpy ride.
It seemed that so much more time had passed than the scant hours since he'd experienced the happiest moment in his several centuries. Mere hours ago, he'd voiced his vows, committing himself to his new bride and then they'd sung and danced in pure bliss, surrounded by family and friends until…
Dark, imposing clouds of pure evil descended upon them, filling minds with the uncertainty of where the Black Fairy's curse might land them. No one knew her plan or her motives except that she intended to enact the final battle, whatever that would entail. So, he'd drawn his wife in closer to his chest as the darkness enveloped them, fearing this may be the last time he would feel the warmth of her body against his. And then all went black.
As he awoke, Killian Jones really wasn't overly surprised to find himself imprisoned, chained to the floor of some dingy, dank concrete-block dungeon. A heavy iron shackle weighed down his right ankle which he could see in the dim light was padlocked to a length of equally heavy chain that ended at a steel ring embedded in the cement floor. A similar shackle encircled his wrist, the tethers long enough to allow movement within his prison cell – from the lumpy cot he lay on that stank of mildew, dust and assorted unmentionable odors to the latrine hole cut into the floor. The chains weren't quite long enough to reach the door of the windowless prison, not that he felt escape would be possible.
Upon awakening, he'd discovered himself to be clothed only in a pair of black boxer briefs and a thin white cotton tee-shirt. He'd been supplied with a scratchy wool blanket that wasn't much thicker than the shirt he was wearing and was scarcely large enough to cover half the length of his body. It certainly did nothing to offset the chill of the concrete cell, not that his comfort would be at the forefront of his captor's mind. Most troublesome to him though was the discovery that his brace and hook had been stripped from him, leaving him feeling more naked than his lack of clothing.
So this was what that infernal fairy had in mind for him? Imprisoned, chained down like some rabid animal, but for what purpose? Did she intend for him to wither and die here while Emma hunted for him? Was Emma locked away in a similar cell? There was no sign of nourishment or water being provided, although he still had no confirmation of exactly how long he'd been imprisoned at this point.
He squeezed his eyes closed, needing to picture his wife's golden tresses and beaming smile, trying not to think of what torrid fate may have befallen his beloved. Would she awaken to a sight as dismal as his? Was she nearby or had they once again been torn away to separate realms?
"I love you, Swan," he whispered as a tear rolled across his cheek, falling onto the filthy mattress. "We will find each other again…"
Her day began as any other – waking at dawn, grabbing coffee at Granny's and then strolling into her office at the Storybrooke Sheriff's station at 8:30am, but this wasn't just any other day. She shrugged off her camel colored leather jacket and hung it on the back of her chair as she leaned in to power on her computer. Yesterday had been a painful day, one she'd spent mostly sequestered from the world and while her day was just beginning, she was already looking to put it behind her.
A stack of open case files awaited her, piled neatly in the middle of her desk. Most of them would be passed on to her deputy – as soon as he decided to show up. Of course, what did she expect after agreeing to hire the Mayor's grandson as deputy? She hadn't really been given much of a choice – if she wanted the extra resources to pursue solving her personal case, she had to do the Mayor a favor. She had to admit though, sometimes it was nice to delegate, and she certainly had plenty of minor cases the young deputy could cut his teeth on.
A minute or so later, she heard the bell attached to the station's front entrance jingle. "Sorry I'm late, Sheriff," the young man shouted as he tossed his jacket onto his desk before scurrying toward her office, trying to avoid direct eye contact with his boss. "Mother Fiona took me out for breakfast this morning to congratulate me for breaking a huge case…"
"Congratulate you for what?" Sheriff Emma Swan scowled. "For being late to work for the third time this week?"
"I know… I'm really sorry about that… I'd say that it won't happen again, but you know…"
"Yes, unfortunately I do, Gideon. Promptness isn't exactly your strong suit but seriously – what's this about you breaking a big case? I wasn't aware we'd had any major crimes around here recently…"
"Ma'am, I broke our biggest case – I captured the criminal we know as Hook. The man who murdered your parents."
"Deputy, you really need to learn to lead with news like that," she scolded, eyes capturing his as she sought more details. "How exactly did you manage to capture such a dangerous criminal yourself and considering that our holding cell over there is vacant, what exactly did you do with him?"
"It was almost by accident, ma'am. He stumbled out into the street drunk and I nearly ran him over with the cruiser. I tried to call you, but your phone kept going straight to voicemail so I called Mother Fiona instead to see what I should do. We decided that the safest thing to do would be to lock him in one of the special cells beneath the town hall."
"That was probably a good idea. You know that yesterday was the anniversary of my parents' deaths… I can't believe that Hook would have the audacity to show up here in my town on such an important date…" She was practically seething with anger at this point but now the man she'd hunted for the past decade was in one of her prison cells. "C'mon, Deputy, its about time that I got to ask that son of a bitch a few questions. Go set up an interrogation room…"
"Yes, ma'am," Gideon replied, barely concealing his giddy smile.
Killian blinked as the door to his cell was suddenly yanked open, flooding the eight foot square room with more light than the bare, flickering bulb dangling from the ceiling provided. He had no idea what to expect as he drew back against the rough block of the cell wall, not quite cowering (Captain Hook didn't cower), but still taking a defensive position. He had no idea which of Fiona's minions might stroll through that doorway and he was hardly in a position to put up much of a fight.
But what he absolutely wasn't prepared for was the face that emerged from the shadows, his features widening into a huge smile as his grateful eyes took in Emma's visage. In stunned surprise, he said a silent prayer that his Swan was okay and that she had found him!
"Swan!" he exclaimed in relief as she stepped closer to the creaky cot he sat on, but instead of reciprocating his joy, her face darkened and she lashed out, slapping him across the face with as much ferocity as she could muster.
"Don't Swan me, you son of a bitch!" she snapped angrily at him as his smile faded into a confused scowl. "How dare you sail back into my town right now!"
"Emma, Love, I don't know what you're talking about. Please, we've got to get out of here…" he pleaded, rattling the chain attached to his wrist, but his plea only earned him another blow, this time from her knuckles backhanding his cheek.
"You think you're getting out of here?" she laughed haughtily. "I finally have you right where I want you, and after a decade of suffering, you will pay for your crimes - as soon as you answer all of my questions about what you did to my parents and where you abandoned their bodies…"
"Emma, I've no idea what you've been led to believe, but your parents are alive and well… This must be the curse, Love… You need to fight it…" He flinched as she brought her fist towards his face again, but this time, she stopped short of striking him.
"Deputy!" she shouted to someone who had lingered on the other side of the heavy cell door.
"Yes, Sheriff?" an eager voice that Killian recognized as belonging to Gideon Gold answered before popping his head around the steel door.
"As I thought he might, our prisoner is resisting answering my questions," she replied with an authoritative glare darkening her emerald eyes. "We'll need to move him into the interrogation room."
"Emma, don't do this," Killian urged, his blue eyes boring into hers, trying to soften the hatred he saw reflected back at him, but instead of breaking through any of her armor, he was rewarded with a taser jabbed into his abdomen. His body convulsed momentarily with the burst of electricity that flowed through his muscles until he collapsed to his knees before her.
"That's more like it," she quipped as she switched off the taser, motioning to her deputy to move in as Killian struggled to catch his breath and regain some of his composure. "If he resists again on his way to interrogation, zap him again." She passed the stun gun to her deputy as she gave the instruction. Gideon nodded, pocketing the device as he withdrew his keys to unlock the padlocks on his prisoner's shackles, yanking Killian's arm painfully behind his back as he forced the pirate to stand.
"You heard the lady," Gideon spat directly into Killian's ear as his boss exited the cell. "Time for phase one of your interrogation and I'll tell you, she always finds a way to get people to talk."
Killian squeezed his eyes closed as Deputy Gideon roughly shoved him towards the open cell door, taser pressed against the small of the pirate's back. Killian took a step forward as well as he could, legs still shaking from the blast of the stun gun and encumbered by the heavy shackle still secured around his ankle. He had absolutely no idea what this interrogation would entail, but after the bizarre exchange with his cursed wife, he was quite certain it wouldn't be pleasant.