Just Know You're Not Alone
AN: I would apologize for how emotional this fic is except I'm not sorry and if I have to suffer writing it then ya'll should feel my emotions while reading. Once again, not mine
Henry was safe in her arms.
Hook was lying on the ground.
Henry was safe.
Hook wasn't moving.
—
Through his rain blurred vision Killian could see Emma clinging to her son. Holding into him with everything she had as the boy nestled himself deeper in her embrace.
He'd done it. He had helped. He had finally done something good. For the first time in 300 years he had put someone first and he had done good.
The pain in his side began to throb and Hook released a gasp. His hand was sticky- from his own blood or the mud he wasn't certain.
His vision started to blur from the pain and exhaustion. Craning his neck he looked over to the blonde; the strong and beautiful woman who had offered him redemption.
"Emma," he whispered before the world began to go black.
Dimly he thought he heard a voice yelling his name and he smiled slightly before everything disappeared.
"Hook! Hook! Killian!"
—-
Waking up to soft sheets and a sharp pain was not what Hook was expecting. When his vision had blacked out he had expected it to be for the last time.
"Drink," said a soft voice.
One of his mugs fell into is line of sight and then the wood if his cabin came into focus.
He looked to where the voice was coming from and the hazy face of Snow White met his tired eyes.
"What?" He rasped out.
"Drink this," she repeated. "It'll help with the pain and clear your head." He took the cup from her and tilted it for a tentative sip. The fog around him seemed to clear a bit. "You have a concussion. And you broke your ribs again. I stitched up your side two days ago."
Killian stared at her for a bit. "So I'm alive?" Her dark eyebrow rose infinitesimally.
"Of course."
The certainty with which she spoke threw him off. So long he had either been alone or allied with selfish and cruel individuals that he still wasn't used to this: the camaraderie and help and trust.
"I thought I had died," he said slowly.
"In case you missed it, we're not in the habit of leaving people behind." Snow pointed to the mug to tell him to drink again. "You chose to help us. That means a lot. We'll continue to help you too."
Her complete honestly unsettled him. Even after all that had transpired in Neverland he still wasn't entirely comfortable with the trust Snow had bestowed upon him.
"Many thanks, milady." He nodded to the cup before taking another drink. Killian felt more aware of his pin but the fog was almost entirely gone.
"Thank you," she responded. "For saving Henry. I don't know what we would have done, what Emma would have done, if we had lost him."
"He's a special lad- he brought this crew together. And he faced Pan with the bravery I've seen in few others."
"Well, he takes after his mother."
A small quirk of his lips was Hook's only expression. "Aye. He does."
Snow began pouring more powders and liquids into another cup. "This will help with the rest of your pain. Drink two sips every few hours."
"Thanks again, majesty." He peered into the cup she handed him curiously. "Might I ask how you learned all these neat little tricks?"
"Years of practice." When Hook raised an eyebrow for her to continue Snow sighed. "After Regina tried to kill me, the first time, I had to learn how to survive. Alone. I picked up some recipes and ideas along the way but most of it was trial and error."
"I take it archery was one of these skills?" The pirate had noticed her affinity with a bow and the mastery with which she handled it.
"It was easier that hand to hand most of the time. I'm small- archery gives me an advantage."
"Well, your time in exile served you well."
Snow shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. "In more ways than one. It's why I met David." A full smirk bloomed across her face. "Sometimes we meet people when we least expect it, when we think we're alone or don't need anyone else. And they prove us wrong."
Hook stiffened slightly. He hadn't given Snow enough credit- she noticed far more than he had thought. "Perhaps."
"And perhaps," she hedged. "Taking certain risks is worth it."
"I've taken plenty of risks in my multiple lifetimes."
Snow nodded slowly. "Bodily risks. But I don't think you've taken the risk that's worth everything. The risk that could hurt the most." He remained tensely silent. "Losing people is the worst pain imaginable. There is no fix, we miss them from the moment they leave and we never quite recover." Killian maintained a stony expression but something flashed in his blue eyes. "It does things to us, places darkness in our hearts." He grew even more still as her words hit even closer to home. "But sometimes we find something, or someone, that makes the darkness smaller."
"Is that so? And how, exactly, would a princess such as yourself know so much about my apparent darkness?" He asked scathingly.
Never before had he seen her look so regal, so utterly imposing in her small stature. "Being a princess doesn't mean a happily ever after." She released a shaky breath, "I almost became you."
He frowned deeply. Snow White, the pillar of goodness and light, had almost become like him.
"I set out to kill Regina. Take vengeance for my father and the life she had taken from me. David stopped me."
Whatever he had expected that hadn't been it. He had seen first hand that they avoided unnecessary death at all costs.
"Special people can put everything in perspective. They can change us."
"Perhaps," he repeated hesitantly. He had a feeling something significant had just changed but he couldn't quite grasp it.
"Mhmm," she hummed. Before exiting the room completely she turned back to look at Killian carefully. "It could be worse I suppose."
"What?"
Snow merely smiled. "I'm sure you'll have other visitors but if you need more of that drink I'll gladly make some." And with that she closed the door and marched back to the deck.
"Bloody crazy woman."
—
Hook had fallen asleep again but was woken by a loud thud and muffled curse. He needn't open his eyes to know the voice and smiled before sitting himself upright.
"Careful there, lass."
Emma's back went rigid immediately and the chair she had been moving sat forgotten on the ground.
"Those pesky chairs can be quite the troublemakers."
Her continued silence was a bit off putting. He studied her; she had changed since their rescue and she looked lighter somehow but a weight appeared to still sit upon her shoulders. She looked bloody gorgeous, a big flowing white shirt and brown pants made her petite figure even more so while somehow making her all the more fierce.
"You're okay."
"Aye. Your mum did a rather fine job of patching me up and providing pain solution. Though I'm still partial to rum."
Emma rolled her eyes but finally righted the chair to sit down. Hook had to hold back a smile- sitting meant staying which meant talking.
"What were you thinking?" Her voice sounded tight, he could see the tension between her eyes and in her shoulders. She was angry with him and for some reason she was trying to hold back.
Hook tilted his head to the side. "What was I thinking when? If you mean a few minutes ago whilst I was asleep them I was thinking of you and me and this bed and you were making the most ero-"
"Hook!" She interrupted, cheeks flushed. "Shut up." Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "What were you thinking back at Skull Rock?"
His brow furrowed. "That we finally had a chance to save your boy. And that was worth any risk."
"It wasn't your risk to take!"
His frown deepened. "What are you talking about? You think it should have been you? That you should have fought against Pan?" He scoffed. "Your bravery can only take you so far Swan."
"He is my son. It should have been me."
"Why does it matter? He's fine, safely aboard the Jolly Roger. I fulfilled my promise to you. We saved Henry."
"It matters!" Her cheeks flushed and eyes grew bright with emotion.
"Why?" He demanded. "Why should it have been you? All that would have gotten us would be another lost boy!"
"I could have done it!"
"No," he said slowly. "I barely escaped with my own life. You'd have been lucky to still be dead in one piece."
Emma's eyes flashed with something that disappeared too quickly for him to identify. "You're wrong."
"No I'm not. Stop being a stubborn bint." Emma huffed in annoyance. "Have you waited three days to berate me? To get angry at me for saving Henry?"
"I'm not angry with you!"
"Oh really? So is this your bedside manner? I'd have hoped for something a bit more charming."
"I'm not mad."
"Yes you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Then why are you yelling at me?"
"Because."
"Because why, Swan?" She remained stubbornly silent, glaring at him. He was losing his patience. "Emm-"
"Because you almost died!" The words left her mouth before her brain could stop them.
They stared at one another in silence. Emma fought the urge to run from the room and Killian merely remained in shock.
"I need to go." She said after a few minutes in which he said nothing to her accidental word vomit.
"No!" Thoughts of her departure, even a temporary one, roused his senses. "Emma, wait."
She hesitated before sitting back down. "What?"
"I almost died."
Emma frowned. "Yeah, thanks, I know that."
"And this upset you?"
This time she remained silent, but he could read the answer in her eyes. She was angry he had put his life in danger, looked almost hurt over his decision to nearly sacrifice his own life for her son's. It didn't make sense.
"Why?"
Something new and terrifying settled inside of her and Emma said the next words without stopping to rethink them. "Because you came back." Killian shook his head in confusion. "You came back, in Storybrooke, and you're not- you can't leave again." Emma's voice cracked at the last word.
Like Neal. He couldn't be like Neal. He was different. So, so different and that made him dangerous. But it also made him important. Made him special.
"I won't watch you kill yourself," Emma said lowly.
Hook could practically hear the words she left unspoken. She didn't want to lose someone else- someone she had come to care for. He was fortunate enough to be counted in her number of unlose-able people.
"Emma…"
"No," her voice became firm. "You are not allowed to die. You can't just assume that's okay. That people wouldn't care. I- we would care. We brought you in and you don't just get to run off and leave."
"I wasn't-"
"It's exactly what you were doing!" She exploded off the chair. "You thought dying to save Henry would fix everything. The pain goes away and you do good, find redemption in sacrifice. That's not how it works!"
"Oh yeah? How does it work then princess? I go off and become a model citizen? Bosom buddies with the Crocodile?"
"You live!" Her chest was heaving. "You take us home and you live! You find something good and never let go and fight to keep it and dammit Hook you don't just give up!"
"I haven't given up!" He roared.
"Then what was that? Fighting for what you want?"
"It was fighting for what you want! What you need! Fighting to bring your son back!"
"This isn't about me!"
"Of course it is!"
"It's about what you want. It's about finding a reason to move on and live and stop fucking holding on to the past! You have to find something else to need! Something to live for! I didn't think it was possible until Henry found me, until I found my parents." Her eyes beseeched him. "You can't just give up. You have to find what you want in this life now!"
"Then my previous answer stands," Killian said evenly.
"What?"
"My answer stands. Of course it's about you." Emma looked ready to argue but he plowed on. "You are what I want. You and your happiness."
Silence. Deafening silence.
Emma's flight sense was flashing red and blaring warnings but her feet remained rooted to the floor. He had actually said the words- the little dance they'd been doing had come to a staggering halt. He had broken the rules; neither of them ever actually spoke the words. And he had gone and said them.
Killian, for his part, felt surprisingly calm. The sentiment had been weighing him down for weeks and she finally knew. In total and complete honesty she knew. He wanted her, all of her. He wanted the walls and the broken heart and the near inability to trust and abandonment issues. He wanted the strong and beautiful and stubborn lass who fought with and challenged him at every turn. He wanted her dysfunctional family and capacity to love. He wanted her, the gorgeous blonde who reminded him of a siren. He wanted her legs wrapped around him, nails digging into his skin, her mouth panting against his neck. He wanted his name, his real name, to spill from her lips. He wanted her to be his, as much as he was hers. He wanted to share secrets and stories, a home and a bed, a life. He wanted Emma and every little thing she offered.
"You're…you're lying."
"Emma, look at me." He tried to find her green eyes but she was studiously avoiding looking at his face. "Look at me. You know I'm not lying, you always know."
"You…you don't," she stumbled over her words. "I need to go."
"Emma." He said calmly. "Stay."
Contrary to her words she hasn't moved an inch. She was stuck between her instinct to run and her desire to stay. Since when do you want to stay? She asked herself. A small voice whispered Since him but she pushed it away.
"Henry might wake up," yet she remained where we she was.
"There are many aboard who would gladly tend to your lad. And I've no intention of keeping you away from him for long." She finally met his piercing stare. "Stay."
"I can't…"
"Why?" He asked softly. "Why can't you stay here? Stay with me for just a little bit?"
"Because." Her brow furrowed. "I just can't."
"I won't hurt you Emma." He held out his hand. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"No one can promise that."
"I can," he stated simply. She hesitated before stepping forward and taking his hand. "I've not lied to you yet, lass, and I've no intention of starting now."
His hand felt so good against hers: strong and rough and warm. Her own hand felt tiny and delicate in comparison.
"Stay," he whispered. His voice verged in the edge of pleading as she stared down at their entwined hands.
Her heart was pounding against her chest. Staying meant letting him in, letting down her walls. Staying meant some strange form of commitment and trust. Two different words were stuck in her throat, two actions regarding their joined hands and his words.
Killian turned her hand over and pressed a kiss to her palm before linking their fingers together and squeezing. "Stay with me."
His blue eyes found her heart hidden so far within herself and she exhaled shakily.
"Okay."