Title: Written in her Name
Author: Roguie et al.
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Pairing: Killian/Emma
Rating: K
Spoilers: Up to and Including 4x02 White Out
Summary: It only took her name on his lips to crack her walls wide open. How could she ever let go now?
Disclaimer: OuaT is definitely not mine. I don't make a cent writing these little bits for it. If I did I'd be a lot happier in life, but for the moment I'll just borrow my beloved characters and leech happiness from them.
A/N: Pure unadulterated fluff. After White Out, my muse just couldn't resist jumping on the cuddle bandwagon no matter how hard I tried to talk her out of it. If you're not too sick of post Emma nearly dying fluffy fluff fluff, let me know what you think.
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She knew she was screwed when he called her Emma. It seemed like such a stupid thing for her heart to trip over; she was laying on a bed of ice, her skin was doing its best impression of turning to stone, her breath was more painful than it was life giving, and yet her world was spun off its axis by the sound of her own name.
She could hear the strain in his voice through the walkie, but it was only when he stood outside her ice coffin, the sound of his hook slamming into the frozen wall reverberating off the chamber around her, did she hear the true panic that was driving him to distraction. Her name. It was the only word to cross his lips while he fought to get to her side, the only word that could bring down the walls she didn't realize she'd been holding onto, the only thing that could make her believe that she held the power to destroy the strong pirate in the blink of an eye. She could hear him breaking twenty feet from where she lay, and that was enough to pull open her eyes, enough to raise her body, enough to cling to Elsa as she crawled through the ice and snow to the man whose heart was splintering as surely as the wall between them had done moments before.
There was no comforting call of Swan. No teasing cry of Princess. No darling. No love. No mocking reference to her Charming family. Only her name. Only Emma, and the shock of it was enough to force her into his arms, ignoring the blatantly shocked look that crossed her father's face, ignoring the world around them as she stole his warmth, his comfort, his love whilst held securely in his arms. He needed a haircut, her pirate, the strands easily separating between her fingers as she held his face to her throat, his hot, desperate breath thawing her frozen skin. She'd never have allowed this moment if she hadn't been so sure that she'd cashed in her last ticket, if she hadn't heard his soul cracking as they lay separated, if she hadn't listened to him cry her name with the fear of a man who'd lost so very much in the years he'd been allowed. She clung to him with the knowledge that in her thirty years she'd never taken comfort from another human being and yet she needed to be wrapped in his arms as surely as she needed her next breath.
He took her up in his arms as if she were a child, cradling her to his body, paying no mind to her father three feet to their left. He was being selfish, stealing her away from her family, his fingers digging into her skin, his hook cold against her back where the awkward angle of his arms had lifted her shirt and bared her skin to the unbelievably chilled air. He took her as if he was entitled to her, taking one step after the other, never asking permission, never looking back. He tucked her into the back of David's patrol car, turning over the key they'd left in the ignition, blasting the heat into the small vehicle before returning to her side, lifting her, slipping under her, settling her onto his lap, resting her head against his chest, his chin atop her head.
He said nothing as they waited for David and Elsa to follow them, rocking her in his arms, the frantic beat of his heart beneath her ear finally beginning to slow to a safer, more normal pace. At one point he took a deep, controlled breath and she cringed away, expecting self righteous anger to be flown in her direction for the fear she'd caused him, for the damage she'd caused herself. His entire body stiffened at her sudden distance, hurt confusion branding him for a single moment before his fingers dug into her arms insistently and she was pulled back to her place against his chest.
No one had ever cradled her, protected her, loved her the way Killian silently insisted upon. His lips travelled through her hair in soft, comforting kisses. His hand slowly stroked the length of her arm, the friction enough to return some of her heat. His heart beat a rhythm that was hers alone, a steady drum beneath her ear, reminding her without words that his life continued for her now, that the fragile muscle keeping him alive would have shattered if she'd not fallen safely into his arms. He loved her the way no one else in her life had ever been capable, completely, honestly and without hesitation no matter how much pain she'd brought him and would likely bring him again.
"Killian?" she murmured against his chest, closing her eyes against the sudden drop in temperature as her father and Elsa filled the front seat of the car.
"Something you need, Emma?" he asked quietly, never lifting his head from hers, his lips merely moving in her hair, his words a warm shield against the air flowing in from the open doors.
"You were scared?" Stupid question, Emma, of course he was scared. Why make him say it?
"Bloody terrified, love." There was no self recrimination in his voice, no regret, no screaming cry for things to be different because if she caused him this much trauma before they'd even truly began, then how bad would it be the next time, when their hearts belonged to each other properly?
She felt like a child, the guilt overwhelming her, knowing she was the cause of a pain she could hardly understand. Abandonment? She was the queen of it. Disillusionment? She could write a novel. Disinterest? She rode the ride and had the t-shirt. Loss the likes of which Killian had survived? She hadn't a clue, and here she spent the better part of three decades thinking she knew all there was to know about pain and suffering.
"Are you angry?" Her voice was tiny, uncertain, terrified that his answer would be to walk away and she'd be left with nothing because really, what would he be walking away from? Two kisses and a request for patience? She wasn't stupid; she'd heard the irritation and frustration in his voice, the bitterness that froze his tone no matter how hard he tried to hide it. They were each others open books, they'd read pages of each others stories that no one else had ever seen, nothing could be hidden between them, and she saw it all in his eyes before she went into that cave. She'd asked him to wait for his happy ending, something he'd lived three centuries without ever believing he'd have; she tore him apart with two simple words, be patient, and never spared a thought for how utterly eviscerating it would be for him to be so close and yet so far from all he'd ever wanted. She'd gone off and nearly died twenty feet from where he stood without ever fulfilling her silent promise to him that some day they'd be more than this undecided, undeclared something they'd become.
He scoffed into her hair, the sound harsh and cold sending chills that had nothing to do with the ice still coursing through her blood travelling down her spine. He soothed it all with a simple kiss, a gentle caress of his fingers, the rhythm of his heart faltering and then finding its beat once more. "Not with you, Emma, never with you."
She heard the truth in his words, knowing that if she raised her head she'd see no trace of a lie in his eyes, and understood immediately that any anger he harboured was for himself. "Hey," she murmured, lifting her head just enough to catch his self recriminating gaze, "Stop it."
He said nothing, only tucking her head back against his chest, reclaiming his position in her hair, tugging her just a little bit closer to the warmth of his skin.
"I mean it, Killian. You did everything right, you didn't give up, and I'm here, so stop it."
In that moment she could clearly see the damage time had taken on him. She closed her eyes and could see the dark haired, beautiful Milah dying in his arms as he held her to his chest, begging her to stay. She trembled with sorrow for him and could see a desperate man holding his dying brother, his hero, his father, his best friend, his captain, as he helplessly watched him slip away into nothingness. She could feel every agonizing moment of the centuries lived in anger and grief, the understanding that when he finally found his vengeance he would also find his peace in a welcome death. She heard his voice in the Echo Caves, heard the heavy burden he'd carried lifted from his heart only to feel the weight of a new burden, the burden she unknowingly laid upon him, take its place. She could see how much his love for her had changed him, altered him in ways she never thought possible because in her life that kind of love didn't exist, couldn't exist, wouldn't exist because she'd never allow it to do so.
Until she did.
"Close your eyes, love. We'll be home and have you warm before you realize."
The damage had long been done, the guilt had long eroded his ability to just accept that they'd survived and would live to fight another day. He avoided her words as gently as possible in the hopes she'd let it go and they'd move back to the comfortable circle that had become their lives because anything else would be too painful to voice.
"This isn't over, pirate." She murmured softly, capturing his hand and pulling it to her stomach, lacing her fingers with his as she let her bone deep exhaustion begin to pull her away.
"It is for now, darling. Sleep."
"You'll be here when I wake up?"
He chuckled softly, letting the remaining tension bleed from his bones as he buried his face against her throat, his warm lips finding her cold skin and warming her straight through to her heart. "It would appear I have you exactly where I've always wanted you, love; as if I'd let anyone take you from me now."
It was enough. His gentle words, his soft lips against her skin, his arms around her body, the rocking of the vehicle as they made their way home. As long as he didn't let her go, it would be enough for tonight. Tomorrow she'd have to work through the signals that she was sending him. Tomorrow she'd have to decide if she had the strength to shut him down when she'd finally seen what she'd always known, that she held his heart in her fingers and could crush the life from him as easily as Rumpelstiltskin had done with Milah so many years before. Tomorrow she would have to decide if she'd inherited the courage of her family, or adopted the cowardice provided by the existence she'd been left to endure.
On the very edge of sleep she felt herself murmur something she couldn't hear, her mind already shut down and racing towards the land of dreams where she would find her happy ending without the battles that always stood between. She didn't feel his body stiffen beneath hers, or the soul deep sigh that escaped his lips and ruffled her damp hair.
"Tell me again in the morning, dear heart," he whispered, just loud enough that his words chased her into her dreams, forcing every possible happy ending she could imagine to be in his arms, for life, forever.
She dreamed of a world where she would never let him go.
~~~Fin~~~
Remember, much like magic, all muses come with a price; this muse's price is in the form of that little review box down below. Please don't make her chase you for payment, it seems a bloody awful waste of her time, now doesn't it?