In an ideal world, things would have gotten back to normal when they'd returned from the Underworld with Killian in tow. They would have started rebuilding their lives, begun their future together; they would all try and go back to normal - or as normal as things can be in Storybrooke.
In an ideal world, there would be trust between them, families reunited once more and finally, finally have some peace and quiet. They would forgive and even though forgetting may take time, they would at least accept things as they are.
In an ideal world, Emma Swan wouldn't be alone in an empty house lying in the middle of a bed that was too big, counting the moments to dawn, every torturous second as it passed, her breathing ragged and shallow, as her eyes stared unblinking at the ceiling.
-/-
It has been weeks since they'd returned from the Underworld, not very worse for wear, if you exclude the mental, physical and emotional scars - which all of them were hoping to forget...eventually. The trials that they had go through, the nightmarish places they had to cross - hell seemed like a solid description. It had seemed like an endless and harrowing journey, but they'd made it through. Killian had made it through. That should have been the end of all the pain. It should have been (and in an ideal world, it would have been).
It has been weeks - 28 days to be exact, since they'd returned. And Emma was certain that Hell was here, not there.
The moment they'd all came and Emma had finally been able to breathe again, breathe anything but the rancid air that permeated the air in there, poisoning their lungs. She'd coughed, brushing her wet hair away from her face, turning to her side with a smile, hoping to find Killian. Her smile had faltered when she saw nothing but empty space next to her. Swallowing down her growing panic, she'd gotten up quickly, whipping her head around, searching for her missing boyfriend when she'd spotted him walking away, his shoulders tense and pace hurried, as if he couldn't stand another with them- with her.
Her worry had drowned her confusion and before she'd known what was happening, she was rushing after him, her hand catching his arm and forcing him to halt. But he had still had kept his back to her, refusing to even look at her.
"Killian, where are you going?" her tone didn't mask her consternation, which only made him scoff and turn back to her.
"Back to my ship, Swan," he bit out, wrenching his arm from her grip, his expression darkening when he saw the hurt flash across her face before she schooled her expression.
"What do you mean-? We can go back home – our home." Her smile was a tremulous one, ignoring the part of her that was blaring warning signs.
He laughed dryly, looking away from her and taking a step back, "What home, Swan? All it is is a reminder, Emma. It- it doesn't hold happy memories. It just reminds me of pain and suffering." He swallowed thickly at her sharp gasp. "Pain and suffering that I caused you. That we caused each other. Gods, Emma, I-"
"Hey-" she cut him off, reaching for his hand and tugging lightly, "-it's okay. That wasn't you, that was the Dark One."
"But it was, Swan!" he cried out, pulling away again. "It was me. I hurt you, I did those things, said those things because I wanted to hurt you. And that me? I meant every word. Despite how much I loved you, my anger, my hatred rivalled all of that. Bloody hell, you almost died!" His face was taut with anguish, his hand clenched at his side.
She blinked back her tears, shaking her head. "And I killed you. I drove that blade right through-" she cut herself off, her voice breaking. "Don't do this. We just got back – I just got you back. Don't you fucking do this," she hissed, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket tightly.
He was blinking back tears as well, his throat thick and his heart breaking to countless shards. He clutched her hand tight with his, taking in a shaky breath. He leaned his forehead on hers, their breath mingling in the cold air, closing his eyes and revelling in this moment. "I love you. I love you, I have never stopped loving you. I loved you with my dying breath, I loved you through every second in that hellish place and I loved you every moment after and will love you forever. But Swan, we are broken, and I don't know how to fix us. I don't know where to start – if I should. Not after- You are better off without me."
She pulled back, furious and horrified all at once. "You regret hurting me? Well, you are doing it now!" she shouted, pushing him away roughly.
His jaw clenched but he barely reacted beyond that, knowing that he deserved everything she chose to throw at him. This was best for her.
"You're not going to say anything?!"
And still, he remained stoic, simply turning back and walking away, knowing at with every step he took away from her, his splintered heart broke further and further.
She still replayed that night again and again, tormenting herself with the memory. Ever since then, she'd holed up in her house – the house that was supposed to be their home, the one that was a promise of their future. Now it was just empty and cold, just a house. Much like her.
She let out a shuddered breath, turning and curling on her side as she stared at the empty spot next to her on the too big bed, swallowing past her pain. She stared at the spot until her vision grew blurry and she could no longer hold in her sobs. She thought that even if she lost him, she would always find a way back to him, but now- now she couldn't do that.
-/-
After another week, she reached her breaking point. She couldn't handle it. She couldn't bear seeing him around town and knowing that they could never be together. Knowing that he was right, hurt more than anything else. They were broken, they both did things that hurt the other person, went on full on war against each other. For God's sake, she ran him through with Excalibur herself, held him as he died – again. Because of her, he had to endure unspeakable horrors at the hand of Hades. How did she ever think they could get back from this?
She shuffled on her feet, hesitating before she knocked on the door, biting her lip in apprehension. She couldn't stay in that house any longer, not when she felt like she was being suffocated by all the memories that could have been made there, all the what if's and might have been's. She sighed when the door opened, revealing a concerned David. His expression softened as he saw Emma struggle to smile through her building tears.
"Remember when you said I should come to your guys when the going gets tough? Does the offer still stand?" her voice cracked slightly, a lone tear slipping down her face, breaking his heart. He wordlessly opened his arms, prompting her to throw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder and seeking the comfort only her father can provide.
"Emma, honey, it'll be alright," he promised, cradling her head, letting her cry silently on his shoulder.
"No," she protested through her tears. "Not this time, dad."
-/-
Emma had missed the Loft. She never realised how much until now, when she was comforted by both her parents and her son, her brother sleeping soundly in the other room. But she'd missed this ease and warmth that only her family was able to give.
"Maybe you should talk to him again?" Henry suggested, smiling encouragingly.
"I don't think he wants to talk to me, kid. I tried calling him. I even went to his ship. He refused to open his cabin door," she sniffled, sipping at the lukewarm cocoa and closing her eyes with sigh.
Her mother exchanged a glance with her father, both of them having a silent conversation that piqued Emma's interest. "What is it?" she asked, curiosity colouring her tone.
"Well, you could always...break in?" her mother shrugged innocently.
Emma stared at her mother in disbelief, her eyes wide. "Are you serious?" she canted her head to one side.
"It serves the purpose," she argued back.
"Or, I could just arrest him," her father offered, grinned at her charmingly, making her lips tilt up too. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her parents. She hesitated before she offered her suggestion.
"Maybe I could leave? Just for a few weeks?"
All three of them looked taken aback for a moment, still afraid that she wanted to run. But then her mother's frown was replaced by a smile, "I think that's a wonderful idea. A fresher perspective might do you some good. You deserve a vacation after all that's happened," she agreed.
Emma smiled tightly, knowing that no amount of distance or time is going to make this constant ache in her chest go away. Her son and father begrudgingly accepted in the end, even offering to drop her off at the airport.
Within the next two days she was more or less all packed for her break from Storybrooke. She was going back to Boston, just for a couple of weeks. Visit some of her old colleagues from way back when, maybe. But there was one last thing she needed to do before she left.
-/-
Sneaking into Killian's cabin was easier than she's thought it would be. Of course, having magic helped. She was glad that he hadn't been on board; she didn't think she would have the nerve to do what she has planned if he had been here. She breathed out, surveying the room that they'd spent countless hours in, either dining or resting or making love. This cabin had been their safe haven.
She smiled as the memories assaulted her – sharing onion rings and greasy kisses, sleeping snuggled close to each other in his bunk, his worn and surprising warm quilt cocooning them during the cold nights as they whispered secrets between them, afraid that if they talked any louder that it would ruin the sacredness of the moment, every desperate and passionate night spent here and every lazy mornings and soft caresses. It felt like they could have spent eternity locked up in this cabin, revelling in each other.
Emma sighed longingly, toeing off her boots and shrugging off her jacket, throwing it haphazardly on the back of a chair before she slipped into the bunk, pressing her back to the wall and waiting for her pirate to come back. She wasn't backing out without a fight.
And an hour or so later, the very man entered the cabin, startled by her presence in his bed. For a moment, he mistook her for a vision. He'd been haunted by their memories in this cabin, seeing her everywhere and anywhere, tormenting himself with how much he missed her. He shook his head, hoping to clear the image of his Swan sprawled across his bed, but when he opened his eyes again, she was still there, staring at him contemplatively.
"Emma? What are you doing here?" he breathed out, his heart aching with how much he'd missed her. Missed them. It's been an eternity since it had been just them, no darkness to contend with, no hurt or betrayal clouding their judgement, poisoning their relationship. Everything without her feels like an eternity to him, even with his centuries of life. He feels lost without her, but his guilt for everything he did, his anger for what she forced upon him- both raging war within him- only made him want to avoid her even more. Avoid her to protect her, to keep her heart safe from him.
She blinked at him, smiling softly, as if they were back in those blissful six weeks; as if they didn't have a valley's distance between the people they were and the one's they are; as if everything was not completely fucked up. She smiled at him, and his heart raced, as fast as it the moment he laid eyes on her, his sun and moon and stars in an ocean of darkness. "I think we need to talk, Killian," she suggested, her tone brooking no argument as she patted the space next to her
His eyebrows jumped at her forwardness, still wary about opening this can of worms again. "Swan, we talked about this-"
"No, you talked. We didn't," she challenged him, raising her own eyebrows in reply.
He knew that he had to face this sooner or later. Emma was nothing if not stubborn, and he knew that she'd want to have this conversation. He sighed, conceding and pulling up a chair to sit next to the bed.
"Nuh-uh," she chided. "Here," her grin was too smug for his liking, but he was a weak man when it came to her. Especially when it came to her in his bloody bed.
"Not fair, Swan. Playing a man's weakness," he teased, although the air around them was still fraught with tension, this seemed to ease it, at least slightly. His own boots and jacket joined hers, as he slid into bed next to her, while still maintaining a respectable amount of space between them. Or as much as he could manage in the small bunk.
She smiled at him again, but this one was sadder, reminding him sharply that they weren't together any longer; that this wasn't just another day on his ship. No matter the playful banter and smiles, it all came back to this.
Just a short time and he'd already lost himself in her, forgotten all about his intentions to keep her safe. "I've missed you so much," she whispered in the space between them, making his heart sting for all their nights curled up and whispering reverent exchanges much like this, only that had been accompanied by far less heartache than now.
His face softened at that, his smile melancholic. "Aye. I've missed you too, love," he admits, his eyes roaming over every inch of her face, memorising it and storing it away into every crevice of his mind.
"Killian, I don't want us to be like this," she began, reaching for his hand. "You are the one who told me all sins can be forgiven if you love someone. So, why can't we move past this?"
He looked wrecked, his words coming out choppy when he answered, "Emma, you lied to me, you manipulated me. And I caused you immeasurable pain by preying on your weakness. How is that healthy, love? We are wrecking each other."
"God, Killian," she cried, her other hand carding through his hair, making him close his eyes in contentment, allowing himself this respite, just now. "We aren't wrecking each other. We are saving each other! Staying away... that may help us survive, but we are both miserable because of it. I don't want to just survive, I want to live. I want to be happy and I want a future-"
"And I want that for you, Emma."
"-and I want it all with you! I love you, Killian. How can I ever be truly happy if I can't be with you?" she asked, her hand sliding from his hair to his cheek, brushing against his cheekbone tenderly.
"Swan, you're tearing me apart, love," he practically whimpered, dropping his forehead to her. "I am trying to protect you. Why can't you see that? I just want to keep you safe, and all I've caused you heartache."
She protested, "No, that is not true! Yes, we may have hurt each other, but do you not remember all the good times we had? In this very cabin, even?" she implored. "All I see for us is a happy future, Killian. I know we can get past this."
"Emma..." he sighed, but she ignored him, dragging his hand up to rest against her heart. She gazed up at him tearfully, "You know my heart better than anybody else. You know me. We are not our darkness alone. We are also our light. We are both, Killian. And I refuse to give up on that."
He felt his throat close up at the conviction in her voice, his heart conflicted between trying to keep her away from him and hurt them both in the name of her safety, or being with her and ending their misery. His vision grew blurry as he turned away from her, her hands dropping from him.
He felt more than heard her take a sharp intake of breath. Her voice wavered when she spoke, "Killian, please."
But he couldn't do it, he couldn't face her. Everything was a mess now, and he had no idea how to answer her. Of course he wanted to be with her, wanted a future with her. But at what cost? How long will they be allowed that happiness before it was ripped away again? How long before they hurt each other again?
He felt her move closer, press her lips to his forehead, whispering her love before she slipped off the bed, surprising him. He opened his eyes, regarding her carefully. He hated himself more when he saw her close to tears as she smiled at him, holding her hand out. His gaze dropped to the key she was holding out to him, before looking back at her quizzically.
"What's this?" he whispered hoarsely.
She swallowed thickly, "The key to- uh, to the house you picked out."
He shook his head, sitting up, "Swan, no. It's your home. Keep it," he pressed it back to her, but she protested, dropping it on his desk instead. After hesitating a moment later, she took a chain out from under her shirt, the one he's given her, with Liam's ring on it. His eyes widened at the implication, ready to vehemently argue against taking it, but he was cut off with her lips pressed hard to his, making him lose his will to argue.
He hummed against her lips, trying to deepen the kiss, but it was over already and she was slipping away from him, the slam of the cabin door not doing anything to muffle the sobs he heard. That's when he noticed that she'd placed the ring back in his hand.
He clenched his hand around it, closing his eyes as the sound of sobs echoed in his cabin. This was it, this was his last chance before he possibly lost her forever. He stared at the ring in his hand, thinking back to when he gave it to her, before his eyes shifted to the key on the table. The key to what he intended to be their home, a promise for their future.
The future is now, he realised, his eyes widening as he stumbled up the hatch, rushing after the woman he loves. After all, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.
He reached the deck, just as she was about to disembark from the ship. His heart raced as he shouted, "Swan! Wait!" and ran towards her.
She whirled around, her eyes widening in surprise as she quickly wiped away her tears. "Killian," she breathed, gripping his lapels when he got close enough, to steady him. "You came..."
"Aye, I came," he repeated, breathless. "I love you, Emma Swan. And I want a future with you," he grinned. Now it was her turn to have the breath knocked right out of her as he swooped her in his arms, bending her as he kissed her senseless.
This was the way things were supposed to be. Ideal world or not, Emma Swan and Killian Jones will always find their way back to each other.
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