Leroy huffed. "So we're just supposed to go back to normal after these two almost sent us all to the freakin' Underworld?"
Both Killian and Emma started to speak, stopping when they noticed the other. Both of their lips tugged at the corner at the realization they were going to defend the other. Emma squeezed his hand.
"A lot has happened," she started. "Well, when doesn't it." That earned a small chuckle from the others. "I'm-" she stopped, glancing at Killian. At his smile of encouragement, she continued. "I am sorry. For not trusting others-my family-" She caught her parents smile. "-enough to help me with what I'd done. I am not naive enough to think that the darkness was the only reason. It wasn't." She swallowed, trying to keep the regret from entering her mind. "...But it played a great part. It wraps around your heart and your soul and twists it into the worst version of yourself, putting focus only on your insecurities, blinding you of your strengths."
Glancing around, she heard Leroy's huff, but his face had softened. Ignoring the faces of pity, she continued on, keeping her eyes trained on her interlocked hands with her pirate. "Even I wasn't strong enough to fight it completely. I made choices that…" Her words trailed off as she looked at Henry. Her little believer just smiled encouragingly in a way she didn't think she deserved. She hoped her eyes conveyed just how sorry she was for hurting him. "...Choices that I can't take back." She took another deep breath as her head popped up, watching everyone as her next words slipped from her mouth easily, with confidence she hadn't felt before this moment. "I do not want you to blame Killian. I did not give him a choice-"
"Emma-" Killian interrupted.
"Let me finish," she said, squeezing his hand again. "I was too scared of losing him, and the darkness played upon that. It clouded my already impaired judgment, and for that, I'm sorry, Killian."
When she looked at him, his eyes were glistening, full of an emotional she couldn't quite place. Love, though. She could see that.
"My point is, all of us have good and bad inside of ourselves, and even if some have known more darkness than light, it is not up to us to judge them when they have made choices for the latter. And Killian did that. For that, you owe him your respect, and I have no problem giving you a piece of my mind if you do not."
If she didn't know any better, she'd say the room was slightly afraid of her. Their mouths tight-lipped, their postures tense and still. She didn't know what to think about that. She meant what she'd said; Killian was undoubtedly hers now, and she wanted everyone to see the man that he was. The man she loved.
But now that they were back, she thought about how getting back to normal might not be as easy as she thought for a different reason.
Would they be able to forget her as an ex-Dark One? What does that even mean?
Before her thoughts got the better of her, she felt an arm wrap around her.
Now tucked into Hook's side, Emma glanced up at him but found he had his eyes on the others. "Um, well-" he cleared his throat. "My turn, then. I truly apologize for my actions. More than you will ever know." His eyes had locked on Emma's during the last statement and her heart stopped at the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. It was guilt, regret, and her stomach twisted, knowing he felt as she did. "I urge you to remember how many times Emma has saved this town and your lives. All we wish is to move forward."
He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't. Or maybe he couldn't, she thought. Words didn't appear to be coming forth as easily. Gone was the suave pirate in that moment.
David cleared his throat, raising the now surely warm champagne he was holding. "Now what's done is done. What they say is true, and I will enforce their sentiments for each other. But I brought everyone here to celebrate the end of another, albeit harsh journey." Somber looks all around. "And to say that it's good to have you back, Ho-"
When David paused, Emma's heart warmed as glass after glass, full or empty, was raised in the small diner. "Killian," David corrected, tilting his glass towards the man standing next to her.
She saw the tips of his ears pink as his adams apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed. He was not used to such a gesture-hell, she knew the feeling well herself. Having a room full of people who'd risk their lives through the Underworld to save you, a family. It was not something either of them were used to. But something was different. Something had shifted in her family, in herself, after this particular adventure. Not that I would call this entire mess an adventure, she thought to herself. She wrapped her arm tightly around his hip and pulled him closer.
He cleared his throat, raising his flask back to David. His mouth opened to say something then paused. He looked back down, his eyes finding hers. He looked far younger in his nervous state. After a small smile from her in encouragement, he turned back to the small crowd in front of them.
"Tonight all I can say is I owe an immense amount of gratitude to you all. For risking your lives when Emma asked you to, and-"
"Killian, we of course will always be on Emma's side, but we did it for you, too. You didn't deserve to be there," Snow said sincerely.
Her father paced over and placed a hand on Killian's shoulder, pausing before saying, "You are part of this family now, and I mean that. What you did required great courage and great sacrifice, and those are the qualities of a hero in my book."
A soft "thank you," escaped Killian's mouth. She could hear the surprise in his voice. Emma smiled brightly at her father, an overwhelming amount of pride filling her. Her father was finally seeing the man beside her, not as the pirate he once was. Not as Captain Hook, but as Killian Jones. Seeming to understand her thoughts, David squeezed his shoulder before leaning to kiss Emma's cheek. He then returned to his side next to Mary Margaret and baby Neal.
Feeling Killian's fingers wrap around her hip a little tighter, she looked at his glistening blue eyes and understood his silent request. She directed everyone's attention back to the festivities just as Granny brought out another tray of various drinks. Emma noticed some hot chocolate for the younger ones. She brushed her hand across the nape of his neck, scratching at the soft hair there before sneaking away to grab a cup.
Time passed easily, as it did every time a crisis was brought to an end. A bittersweet medium filled the air at the knowledge that it was only a matter time before the next battle. But for now, soft chatter and laughter filled Granny's, a much needed sight for Emma. She was surrounded by everything she could have needed.
Killian's jacket hung over the counter behind him next to hers. He sat on the bar stool closest to the door, Emma standing beside him. His head rested on her chest, his nose tucked into her neck. Emma held it there, her fingers meditatively stroked his hair while her other hand held his against his chest. Both felt exhausted and a bit tipsy (when Emma came back with her mug of hot chocolate, he smiled mischievously before pouring a bit of rum from his flask into it). She wondered if he was pushing down the same thoughts she was. Saving them for another time or ignoring them altogether, she wasn't sure.
"Mmmm," he sighed, his breath reassuring to the skin above her heart. The pulses seemed stronger in her chest despite the new size, though she might be able to blame the rum for that.
Not that she was paying them much attention, but she was glad her family was leaving the two of them alone. Their bubble swaddled them, their combined warmth increasing in their need to hold one another. Both hadn't said much since they returned, aside from the gathering currently taking place. Both were exhausted. Both secretly wished to not be in front of anyone but each other.
She leaned her cheek against the top of his head, moving her hand to his shoulder while squeezing his even tighter. "Do you mind if I just don't let go of you for a while?" she asked, almost to herself.
She knew that he heard it, though, when he used his hook to pull her hip-quite forcibly-against him, making her stumble slightly. He looked up at her, his gaze locking on hers. She brought a hand to rub the dark circles under his eyes. He looked so tired. She wondered how he was still upright.
Dying will do that to you.
She beheld the depths of his blue, blue eyes, her mouth gaping imperceptibly at the sudden wave of emotion that washed over her now. Her throat tightened at the need to tell him just how much she loved him. How much she had missed him. Their -literal- eternity in the Underworld had felt just that.
Eventually, he answered her. "Only if you allow me the same, love." His lips puckered, awaiting hers with anticipation as he lifted his chin. When she pressed her lips to his, she felt tingles in her fingertips, warmth spreading through her body as it tilted further into him.
Soft pecks quickly became much more. His tongue grazed her bottom lip before twisting with hers, making her wish they were anywhere but here. She felt power swell up within her belly and directed it into him, mentally whispering everything her heart ached to say.
The sudden rush of a cold breeze caused her to finally pull back. "Whoa," she panted, her surroundings a blur. Her hands were on his still panting shoulders as her eyes began to refocus. She squinted at the cold droplets that were increasingly falling onto them.
"That trick may really come in handy some day."
"What?" she breathed. All she could think about was the roughness of his voice.
"You appear to have poofed us," he said with a smile.
She looked up and gasped. Above them, thick, gray clouds filled the dark sky, releasing the first fall of snow onto the ground, and by consequence, them. Her chin was in the air, relishing the cold, wet splattering flakes on her face, when she felt a warm hand cup her cheek.
"I haven't seen your smile in so long," he whispered. "Or it feels that way," he added with a sad quirk of his lips.
Her attention moved from the sky and stopped on the white fence to the right of them.
"Oh," she whispered, suddenly understanding. She stared at the house in front of them, almost unable to look away. "I guess I was wishing for us to be alone. To go…" her voice trailed off.
"Home?" he supplied.
Was this house still their home? Clearly this house remained tied to the word, as she had unconsciously transported them here. Still taking the site of it in, she swallowed down the onslaught of memories trying to come forth. The pain. She didn't want to think about it. Some wounds were still too fresh.
"It still can be, Emma," he tells her, of course reading her face before she could hide it. She placed her ear to the space above his heart and held him tighter. He smelled of rum and spice and all she wanted was to be lost in it. "This can still be our home if you want it to be." His fingers played with the tips of her hair comfortingly.
She took a deep breath before looking up at him. "You're my home," she whispers, cupping his left cheek in her palm, her thumb softly tracing over his scar. His lips curved up at her words, his eyes softening before his head bowed forward to crush his lips to hers fervently. Their lips remained soft and fluid, each taking turns sucking gently on the bottom lip of the other. His mouth tasted of the rum he'd been sipping all night and it made her hum in satisfaction. He was hers. That was all that mattered right now.
His head pulled back from its tilted position to peck her lips minutely. "Swan." He pecked her cheek.
Her eyes remained closed as she responded with "Hmm?" before stuttering into a soft moan when his lips found her neck.
"Shall we go inside now?" He panted into her neck.
For now, the house will have to do.
She tensed when the boards loudly creaked under her feet. She stopped, her shoulders poking up, as she raised one eye behind her to the master bedroom up and to her left. She didn't want to wake him for a variety of reasons. One being that he needed the rest, his body completely worn from fighting both of their demons in the recent weeks. The second, their last few hours of activity had rendered them pretty spent… She smiled wryly as she continued down the dark oak stairs. Tonight was one long awaited. She crossed her arms, bunching the soft material of his shirt closer to her chest to inhale his scent as she thought of his touch, his lips caressing every inch of her skin.
She bent to pick up the scattered articles of clothing at the bottom of the stairs, chuckling to herself at the sight. She picked up their jackets and kicked the the strewed-about boots to the corner. After she had hung her favorite red leather jacket in the closet by the door, she held Killian's in her hands, rubbing the soft leather. Once they had returned to Storybrooke, he had appeared just as he was before, a modern-turned pirate in all his leather garb. Though maybe a new outfit or two would do both of them some good, she thought to herself.
She grabbed a blanket from the couch to cover her shoulders before padding into the small kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Usually she'd vote for coffee but it was the early hours of the morning and she really needed to sleep herself soon.
She would be lying if she said she was afraid of what her subconscious would conjure up when she finally slept.
She grabbed a oven mitt when it came time to yank the kettle off the stove so that the high-pitched screech didn't wake Killian and poured the hot water into her mug. She dunked the tea bag absentmindedly into the water as she walked over to the breakfast table by the window. She sat herself at the end so that she faced the telescope and the view beyond it. You could just make out the distant waves, the water calm under the highlight of the moon. What was his greatest comfort had become hers, it would seem.
She took a small sip of the soothing tea as she glanced around the room. The silence floating about the room made her contemplate again whether or not this house was the right choice for them. Up until now she had been living in it with only her thoughts to keep her company. Every night she lay in bed revisiting her choice to save Killian, and while her heart knew there was no other choice for her, the hours she spent trying to remedy that choice had emotionally and mentally exhausted her. Add to that their journey through the Underworld to bring him back where her deepest and darkest demons had been brought to the surface, her and each member of her family having to fight against ghastly creatures and sins they each had long since suppressed. She was shocked she hadn't collapsed yet. Her bones ached, her mind screaming for rest with each passing minute.
When her eyes locked on the painting still propped up against the desk in the adjacent corner, her throat closed and her hands formed fists as the thoughts began to return.
All she had wanted was to save him.
Flashes of his face appeared in her mind; the slow realization of what she had done to him, his eyes darkening to the color of onyx, his lips curving up in anger.
Everything I did, I did for you.
You clearly don't believe in me anymore.
You were dying…
She shut her eyes when Henry appeared, the discovery of what she'd done to Violet fresh on his face. No, she commanded. I must not do this to myself. She took a deep breath. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault.
She took a deep breath, wiping away the few tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. She frantically tried to picture the look on Killian's face when she had found him, his eyes shining with amazement, gratitude, and love. She hugged the blanket tighter around her, imagining the feeling of holding him again. Her Hook. Her Killian.
She gulped down the already cool tea, deciding the safest place to be was beside Killian in their bed.
He may have a large part in her guilt, but he was also the only one who could heal it.
She was almost to the staircase when she heard the familiar creak at the top. Her eyes immediately softened, the tension in her spine automatically relaxing. Her heart on the other hand only quickened in pace at the sight above her.
His hair was unruly, sticking up at all angles, and his eyes were hooded like he woke up just moments ago. Absolutely adorable. His chest was completely bare save the soft locks of hair that covered it. She gaped at the man and cursed at what his body did to her. His black denim jeans hung low on his lips, hastily zipped, she noticed, as he had left the button undone. She quickly shut her mouth when she saw him smirk.
"We need to get you some pajama pants," she joked.
He kept his eyes on her, smirk still in place, as he sauntered down the steps. "So I'm not allowed to just strut about the house in the nude, then?" He stopped before her and she slipped into his open arms, hugging his waist.
She giggled at the thought. "Well not all of the time," she whispered into his chest. She loved how normal this moment felt, wishing she could make it last forever.
He hummed into her hair, chuckling, before pulling back. "Well I was going to put on my shirt but it would appear someone stole it," he said, pushing her shoulders back gently to hold her at arm's length. She watched his eyes trace from hers down the length of her body and swallowed a moan when his teeth went over his bottom lip.
She blushed, suddenly nervous under his gaze, before noticing his left arm that was still touching her right shoulder. He had left off his hook and brace; the scarred skin lay there completely bare.
"Are you alright, love? I woke up and you weren't there." She could hear the worry in his voice, but her eyes were still trained on his wrist. She grasped his forearm and removed it from against her shoulder. Sliding her fingers down to the end, she held it in both her hands, tracing a thumb over the rough skin. She had seen it before of course, but the way his body tensed in front of her told her he was still uncomfortable with someone looking directly at it.
What he didn't know was that this display of trust was crucial to her right then. His vulnerability in that moment, the way he allowed her to press her lips to the flawed flesh, eased the darkness swirling in her mind.
"Emma?" He breathed out softly.
She let his arm drop before backing away and walking back into the living room. "It's cold down here, let me get you something," she said in explanation. She heard him follow as she grabbed the blanket she had thrown back onto the silver couch. She came back and wrapped it around his shoulders, tugging the edges closed where they fell against his chest. She swallowed the lump in her throat when she noticed the moonlight illuminating the fresh scar on his neck just so. She stood there gripping the blanket too hard, the words she wanted to say suddenly gone from her vocabulary.
Wordlessly, he brought his hand from the underside of the fleece and cupped the back of her head, pausing to slip his fingers through the golden curls. "Come, love," he said softly as he used his body to push hers backwards towards the couch. He sat down so that his back was against the arm, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. He opened his blanket-covered arms in a silent beckoning. She slid over his lap so that her bottom wedged itself between him and the back of the couch while he wrapped the blanket around them both. She placed her ear over his heart and hugged his torso, the heat coming off of him almost enough to put her to sleep right there.
She sighed and worked up the courage to start. He was here with her. They had literally been to Hell and back for each other. There was nothing they couldn't handle, she now believed. Her mouth opened but quickly shut when, to her surprise, he spoke first.
"I didn't want to burden you, but I see in your eyes your thoughts are similar to mine."
She looked up at him. Of course he knew. His ability to read her; her thoughts, her worries, her desires, used to terrify her. It still did, but now it was one of the things she cherished the most.
He stared at her, as if he lost his train of thought. "I..I'm so sorry, Emma." His voice cracked, her heart dropping at the sincerity of pain that was laced in his tone.
"Oh, Killian," She said, sitting up on his lap and placing her hand on one of his cheeks.
"The things that I said to you, I can't get them out of my head. I don't know how you're still here with me or why the bloody hell you would venture to save me." Her thumbs rubbed his now wet cheeks. Her vision blurred as her own started to fall. "I don't deserve it. Well I never really thought I deserved you, but I...I just thought I was finally getting to that place and then-"
His words came out so fast, deciding to make themselves known in one emotional swoop. Suddenly her pain didn't matter, didn't pale in comparison with the hatred he had of himself. All the magic she had and she felt powerless to help him. She wanted desperately to wipe it clean, to hug him until all his demons vanished.
She guided his head to her chest, cradling it underneath her chin as her fingers caressed the hair at his nape. He wrapped his arms tighter around her in attempt to calm his shaking. She didn't speak until it did. "Killian, listen to me," she beckoned. She pulled herself back so she could look at him, taking his hand in both of hers.
"I'm scared, too," she whispered. Her eyes focused on his hand, her thumb tracing each tiny scar it came into contact with. She looked back up into his eyes. "I haven't slept since…" since before I became the Dark One. "Tonight, after…," she was pleased to see a small smirk on his lips but continued. "I snuck down here because I was afraid of what I might dream. I've had thoughts, too, that won't leave."
She didn't think she was capable of telling him that the things he had said to her still invaded her mind. She wasn't angry, she wasn't disappointed, she just was.
He used his left arm to bring her down so she lay on his chest. "When I woke up and you weren't there, gods my heart dropped."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."
"My love, you have nothing to apologize for." She could hear the truth in his statement, how much he meant it. A minute later he added, "I hope you know that." His words were heavier in meaning, clearly alluding to everything he knew she felt guilty for.
His sincerity and kindness amazed her. Especially now. "I know that you believe that."
She felt his chest rise and fall in a sigh. "Maybe it might be more fair for us to simply acknowledge the feelings of the other, rather than trying to change them," he said.
"Maybe," she allowed.
"I think we just need time," he said. His tone told her he wasn't just reassuring her but himself as well.
Time is anything but guaranteed, she wanted to argue, but she just nodded silently, her fingers combing through the soft hair on his chest as she thought. They remained in that position for a few minutes, soaking in the heartbeat and the breath of the other before she spoke again. "I'm scared of how long it's going to take," she admitted, her voice breaking slightly. She felt another tear escape before his thumb brushed it away.
"I hope you know, Killian, how much I do believe in you, how proud I am of you." Her chest tightened at her own words, longing for him to understand.
His eyes glistened. He swallowed audibly, before saying, "I do, love."
She pushed up on her elbows to press her lips to his, holding them there until she needed breath, before laying back down on his chest.
His hand at her back suddenly stopped the patterns it was making. "How 'bout we make a deal, Swan."
She smiled into his chest, kissing it lightly. "Sure."
"Should we ever need to talk about anything involving what happened, no matter how dark or frightening, we go to the other, okay?" His hand on her back moved to her hip. "No walls, Swan, you hear me?" He began tickling her, eliciting an uncontrollable giggle from her.
"Killian! Killian, stop, please!" They both were laughing as she struggled to get out of his grasp.
"You have to promise," he teased.
"Fine! Yes, I promise. No walls," she laughed.
Suddenly she was straddling his thighs, their chests flushed with each other's as he sat up "Good," he grinned, his hand and stump resting on each of her hips. She had never seen this playful side to him and it made her heart soar.
"I love you," she said, her fingertips lightly brushing over his cheek, his chin, his lips.
"I love you, too, Emma. So much."
They sealed their promises with a soft pressing of their lips, as if they had all the time in the world. Emma hoped fiercely that they did.
Neither of them felt the need to ask forgiveness of the other. Each knew the answer they would give and each knew that the forgiveness they needed was from themselves. She hoped that he was right; that with time, they would be able to give themselves the same kindness they so easily gave the other.
As it was, the soothing rise and fall of his breath and the soft heartbeat underneath allowed her to close her eyes, her mental walls falling down one by one as sheer exhaustion finally flooded her body. For now, the dark thoughts ceased and all she could feel was the man underneath her.
Her head popped up when it almost hit the back of the couch. "Wha-?"
His hand quickly cupped her face. "Shh, sorry love, I shifted and woke you up. This seat is rather uncomfortable for a long period of time," he chuckled lightly. "Come, love, you need proper rest."
Before she could answer, he swooped her up in his arms, causing the blanket that had been covering them to fall to the floor. He seemed appeased when she didn't oppose, her hands slipping easily behind his neck for support.
She saw him swallow when her fingers brushed against the fresh and reddened scar. Their gazes locked before he wordlessly kissed her temple in comfort. "S'okay, love. Doesn't even hurt."
Where Excalibur had gone through him left no mark. Darkness had been the only thing taken from his body, a fact that left her immensely grateful. However she knew the scars that needed to be healed were not physical in nature, despite the reminder now on the left side of his neck.
When he began walking towards the stairs was when her eyes caught the painting again. "Wait. Put me down for a second."
He did as she requested, confusion on his face. It was so innocent she couldn't help herself as she stood up to kiss his cheek. "I have an idea."
She closed her eyes in concentration while her hands came up, palms facing out. She felt the familiar warmth as her hands began to tingle. She faintly heard him gasp as one by one, pieces of furniture, from the aforementioned loveseat to the wretched painting, to knick knacks she hadn't even closely paid attention to, to pictures on the wall that were not of them. It was time to correct that. Items popped out of the space around them as the house quickly emptied apart from absolute necessities.
When her eyes opened and assessed her work, she smiled and looked back up at her pirate. His intense gaze was filled with what seemed like twenty different emotions spurting in different directions but his eyes remained on hers.
"Emma, what are you doing?"
She pulled him closer to her, holding his hand in between them and squeezing it gently. "Changing the memory," she said.
He swallowed loudly, his face still unreadable, but she could see a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. A hopeful one.
"I want this to be our home. I want it to be the beginning like you planned. I want to make every decision about it with you, from the kind of couch we buy to the mugs in the cupboard." They both chuckled at that, the normalcy, the simplicity. Though this promise was anything but simple and they both knew it. "A fresh start. I want this future with you, Killian. I'm yours," she vowed.
She squealed as he pulled her up in his arms, her feet hovering above the floor, and kissed her with a passion so profound she swore her heart stopped. His kisses were pretty amazing, but this...This was the fire in them fully ignited, much like the eternal flame. The passion had always been there but she had been too afraid to take the plunge. Everything was in this kiss. There was nothing left unsaid.
Her heart surged, knowing she truly wasn't afraid anymore.
His joyous laughter echoed in the now empty foyer and she vowed to herself to hear it more often. She wanted to give him everything he'd given her and more.
"One question, Swan," he said, dropping her to her feet gently and encircling his arms around her. His voice had a teasing tone to it.
"What?" she challenged.
"The bed still there?"