Make Sure

by TutorGirlml

She's fighting her feelings - too frightened by almost losing him to admit just how strong her love has really grown. Emma runs from Killian, and he chases her, in the aftermath of "Heroes and Villains", until she finally realizes she has to stop sometime and see what she stands to lose if she stays behind her walls.

Hello fellow Once fans! It has been much longer since my last story than intended, but I'm determined to at least get this last oneshot posted before Sunday's 4B premiere. It's picking right up from where we last saw CaptainSwan in the winter finale. Hope you enjoy, and – as always – your reviews are as valuable to me as pirate treasure! ;)

Of course, I don't own Emma, Killian, or any of the rest of our beloved characters, nor do I own the lyrics to Christina Perri's "Distance" that are included. It's a beautiful song though, and it made me think of how Killian might be feeling about Emma, and that's pretty much how this story was launched!

Enjoy!

"Make Sure"

By: TutorGirlml

"The sun is filling up the room

and I can hear you breathing,

Do you feel the way I do, right now?

I wish that we would just give up

'cause the best part is falling,

Call it anything but love…"

It is as though she can still feel his exposed heart pulsing in her hand, the thump of the organ – so vital yet fragile – beating on, against all odds, against the very will of the Dark One himself and the fate that had nearly befallen it, stopping its dogged pumping forever. Seeing his heart in all its glowing, red life, cradled in her palm, had been almost as horrifying as it was exhilarating. Emma Swan knows that her desperate need for his heart to be safely housed in his chest once more had been her real impetus to thrust the organ home so abruptly. Killian almost surely believes that some small bit of punitive anger has fueled her sharp actions; his eyes are all-too-knowing and infinitely understanding before swoops down on her with a kiss that turns her knees to water. For this moment at least, she slumps against the wall in Granny's deserted hallway, sinking into his branding, consuming embrace, and lets Killian's kiss sear away the memory of him on his knees at Rumplestiltskin's feet.

Until it all comes rushing back in.

Killian lets a low, rumbling growl escape his throat when he finally pulls back for breath, then begins to nip playfully at her bottom lip, teasing and tasting her in a way that makes Emma squirm in his arms restlessly, back arching against the wall where he holds her, and her very skin tingling, aching for more.

Emma's eyes flutter closed and she fists one hand in his dark, messy hair to pull him back into her kiss, when the vision flashes behind her eyes again. Killian once more clutching his empty chest, crying out in anguish, Gold's fingers gripping her pirate's heart to squeeze it into dust. She is tensing to rush up the stairs of the clock tower, then once more being halted in her rescue by magic, frozen in place. She had known even then, with a dreadful certainty turning her stomach, that she was about to be an unwilling witness to Killian's murder. She knows the pain rising within her feels as though it might kill her too.

Gasping, Emma jerks out of her pirate's embrace and plants both hands on his chest to maintain the space. She blinks back silent, renegade tears that threaten to flow, not wanting Killian to see them. Marveling at the feel of the gentle, steadying rhythm beneath her palms, she tries to ground herself, to make the nightmare scene vanish, to no avail.

Killian's dark brows both shoot up in surprised confusion at her sudden reaction. "What is it, Love?" Is aught amiss?"

Emma meets his gaze, but still won't allow him to pull her back into his arms, and Killian Jones swears his newly restored heart stutters and then sinks lower in his chest. "You could have died," she murmurs, the words barely audible and unshed tears shimmering blearily in her wide, green eyes. "You would have left me too."

"Aye," he assents, hating that he has no other honest answer to give. "The Crocodile assured me I was to meet my end."

She swallows reflexively, glancing away, then clutching and releasing the material of his shirt. "I…I have to go," she finally stammers awkwardly. Pulling out of Killian's grasp completely, Emma takes a few shaky steps back toward the main room of the diner. "I am so relieved that you're alive, Killian…but I can't –" her voice cracks before she can finish speaking, and he wants to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness for this wound she has suffered. "But I just can't do this," she finally spits out and turns away.

In the next moment, she is gone. At the loss, Killian's chest feels so empty that he fears his heart must still be missing, and Emma never there with him at all…

"And I will keep my distance,

Say 'I love you' when you're not listening,

And how low can we keep this up, up, up?"

The pirate quietly occupies his preferred seat at the far end of the counter in the diner the next morning. Waitresses fly in and out of the swinging door to the kitchen, whipping past him with breakfast orders, and Ruby nearly takes him out with her elbow when she darts behind the counter to reach the cash register, but none of it fazes him. The movement and flurry of activity, the conversations, the cheery voices wishing good mornings, and the scent of sausage and bacon, all fail to register. With eyes dark and brooding, their usual kohl lining only accentuated by the dark circles beneath proclaiming his lack of sleep, Killian Jones focuses solely on the door into the humble establishment, awaiting her arrival, thought he has no idea what he will say.

Ruby watches the pirate captain with equal measures of unease and sympathy, knowing there is as much rum as there is coffee in the mug his good hand is clutching for dear life. She doesn't know all the specifics; however, she does knows that she nearly walked into an unparalleled make out session outside his rented room last night, then – after she had surreptitiously retreated – she had seen Emma practically sprint back into the dining room, and later leave with her son and Regina instead of staying with the captain. The despair and self-loathing she reads in the tense lines of the man's shoulders this morning are unmistakable. The forced calm and normalcy Hook is struggling to portray cannot fool her highly tuned senses. Ruby can practically feel his every nerve vibrating, and his torment is too familiar for comfort to the she-wolf. One doesn't tear her childhood sweetheart limb from limb and kill her mother to save her best friend without knowing what it is to fear that the darkness one carries within has left her – or him – unlovable. She does not know what passed between Hook and Emma last night, but she does know that the pirate loves their town's blonde sheriff beyond all reason, and that he is afraid it still won't be enough to hold onto her, that he won't be enough.

The bell above the door chimes, and Emma stands in the entrance, blonde hair and pale skin almost haloed in the morning sunlight as she pauses, scanning the diner's occupants. She sees Killian, just as the pirate sucks in a desperate breath and sits up straighter at the sight of her, but Emma's eyes skitter away, wary and anxious, coming to light on Ashley, Thomas, and their little boy at a nearby booth. She moves that way under the pretext of greeting them, checking in, but it is clear even through her avoidance that they are not who Emma has come looking for – not who she truly wants to see.

As if a string binding him has snapped, Hook stands abruptly, his movements jerky with hurt and pent-up frustration. Dumping more gold coins than a month's worth of coffees could possibly cost on the countertop where he has been sitting, the pirate flashes one last, quick, longing glance at Emma – all his raw emotion laid bare in his blue eyes – and then he is out the door and stalking quickly down the street.

Emma doesn't need the slamming sound of the wooden door striking its frame, or the bell chiming again, to know that Killian is gone. All the warmth that floods her body in his presence flees when he does, leaving her cold and empty. She knows why she ran from him last night, and she why she is still hiding from him this morning; she can't help doing so, despite how cowardly it makes her feel.

She still cannot bear to lose him, but she is terrified to admit it, for him to see that truth, or to speak it herself…what his near-death has made all too clear for her.

She loves him…too much for her heart's safety, enough to tear her apart if she loses him, and so she is choosing distance and silence instead.

"Please don't stand so close to me

I'm having trouble breathing

I'm afraid of what you'll see

right now;

I'll give you everything I am,

all my broken heartbeats,

Until I know you'll understand…"

Emma finds Killian half an hour later, exactly where she had known he would be – standing at the end of the docks, looking out over the choppy waves and slate-grey sky. Searching the horizon with troubled gaze and intense focus, the pain in every line of his bearing and etched across his weathered but beautiful face makes something inside Emma's chest clench, and guilt gnaw at her insides. Yet she cannot quite forget her indignation either. He very nearly deserted her – intentionally or not – and what will she do now, if she admits to all she feels, only to lose him once and for all?

Shoving hands that tremble both from nerves and the cold into her pockets, Emma fights against their urge to touch him before she can either grab his lapels and jerk him into a frantic kiss, or shove him away from her before she is tempted to do so. Emma tries to draw in a steadying breath and opens her mouth to speak, only to have Killian break in, beating her to the punch.

"Why don't I start, Swan? Save us both some time?" His voice is clipped and bitter, warring between hurt and anger, and the tone makes Emma flinch back, despite knowing that he would never harm her. She suddenly sees the resignation and helplessness in his eyes, and now that she knows all that has happened, Emma wonders just how long those emotions have been lingering inside her captain's soul.

"Killian, I – " she starts to respond, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, only to have him jerk back, a gasping breath escaping him as he does. His eyes are alight with torment and frustration, seeming to burn into her very soul, and again he cuts her off, not allowing her to speak.

"I know you are here to cast me aside, Darling. And well I deserve it. I deceived you, and my silence put you in danger." Here he draws in a heaving breath and turns his face away, as if re-gathering his strength to continue. "I have always known I do not deserve you, Love."

Here she shakes her head in denial and tries to move closer to him once more, but her pirate is having none of it, stepping back as she steps forward.

"I did so try to be a better man for you, Emma. Unfortunately, it would seem the darkness has been a part of me too long. I am too much a villain." Jerking his hand through his dark shock of wind-disheveled hair roughly, as if at his wit's end, Killian still feels the need to have everything said, once and for all. "Heavens know I love you more than life itself, Lass, but I've ruined it now; just as I have always ruined anything good that ever came to me. If you mean to ignore me, hide from me, flee my touch or pull away bit by bit, just end it now. 'Twould be kinder."

Killian's head bows in defeat, his words finally spent, and he turns toward the horizon again, half appearing as if he wishes he could launch himself into the waves. He has finished speaking, and silence stretches between them as Emma frantically struggles to put her thoughts back in order. The only sound is his ragged breathing and the wintry wind howling around them. Emma wonders how she could do so much damage in such a short time, and feels frighteningly incapable of mending the injury her fear has caused.

"May I talk now?" she asks, hoping to bring even the hint of a smile to his tense, pained face.

Her pirate dips his head in a terse nod, allowing her the chance to say her piece, but his full, tempting lips, which usually smirk at her teasingly or smile in understanding, are pressed in a tight, thin line, letting her know just how little patience he has left, how he is holding it together by the tips of his fingers.

"Killian…" she trails off, wetting her lips, not sure how to proceed, but knowing she has to try. She cannot bear to see him punishing himself, hating himself for his mistakes when they have nothing to do with why she has been pulling away. "I shouldn't have taken off the way I did last night. It wasn't fair to you… But… I don't think you know why I did it either. W-What happened with Gold, y-your secrets…none of those things are what's holding me back."

He looks up again sharply, eyes suddenly alert and studying her closely. He involuntarily takes a step back toward her, looking for all the world as if he truly is hanging on her every word.

'It's now or never,' Emma's conscience urges her, even as her self-preservation instincts try to stop the words that come piling out on top of each other from her trembling lips. "You have to stop thinking the worst of yourself, Killian! I told you when we came back from the past that you're a hero too. I meant it then, and I still do. You and I are living proof that people can change. I know your heart isn't dark – but you don't believe it yet. You let Gold use your own fears against you! He won't be the last one to manage it either if you don't find some way to trust your own goodness…the way you've always believed in mine." She pauses for a moment, sucking in a long breath, but when she sees him opening his mouth to argue, she plunges on. "I-I've already told you that I can't lost you too. What happened with Gold, and your heart wasn't your fault. But…I'm scared. Now I know, Killian. I won't be the same if something happens to you. Losing Neal hardened me. I carried on, but I closed my heart off to do it. Graham dying in my arms only made those walls higher, stronger. It was like being told, 'This is what happens when you let your guard down. You only get hurt again.' And…" Emma forces herself to breathe out, to calm down; she can feel herself almost becoming lightheaded, her voice wavering, eyes burning with stubbornly unshed tears.

Killian reaches out to her, clearly intending to soothe, to brush the wildly flying, windswept hair from her face, to trace along her cheek with his gentle hand. "Love, I don't know what to say. Never did I intend to cause you more heartache."

The tenderness in his gesture, and the pure, undeniable love in his eyes, make Emma want to flee again. His affection warms and comforts her, but it exposes her too – all her ragged, sharp edges, doubts, and unlovable bits – and she doesn't know how to take the leap and join him in his certainty about the two of them, though she finds herself wanting to more and more fervently. For one aching, hopeful moment, she leans her face into his touch, closing her eyes and letting herself savor Killian's ardent devotion.

Then, so reluctantly it physically hurts, Emma opens her eyes again, pegging him in place with the look she levels, and takes a purposeful, determined step back – out of his grasp. "Killian…I want to admit it, want to let myself feel what I do for you. But you have to stop putting yourself in harm's way. You have to stop offering your life up as if it doesn't matter. It does matter…to me. More than you know."

She sniffles then, averting her gaze, and turns so they are both looking out over the choppy, restless waves. The cry of a gull, the pounding of the surf against the rocky shore, and the bracing wind surrounds him as she lets herself lean into his side and relax when his arm warmly encircles her shoulders. Killian doesn't speak, not wanting to give her easy comfort or promises he cannot keep. He would trade his life for hers – or her loved ones – in a second. Would bear anything to make sure she is not hurt or alone any more than she already has been in her life.

He is a wise enough man to know Emma will not hear that now, though. For the moment, he takes immense comfort in knowing that her pulling away is not for lack of feeling or loss of faith in him. For now, he will simply hold her while she allows him to do so and keep hoping that they will find their way.

"And I keep waiting

for you to take me,

You keep waiting

to say what we have;

So I'll make sure to keep my distance

Say 'I love you' when you're not listening

And how long 'till we can call this love?"

Killian Jones has been a sailor – an adventurer – long enough to know how to read the stormy seas…and a turbulent heart, especially when that heart is a match for his own. He knows not to push Emma Swan, but also not to give her enough time to think better of her openness, to rebuild her defenses, retreat and head for cover. They have not vanquished all of their issues yet, but upon parting yesterday, he had felt some peace, some calming sense that they are both still invested in this relationship they share.

He is looking for her now in the hopes of getting her to agree to some more lighthearted outing together. They need to have privacy to talk and reconnect, but in a situation where they can be at ease and the tone and surrounds are not so highly charged. They need some stolen moments to just be together – without villains, calamities, or interruptions – to relearn that spark which first drew them to each other and strengthen the understanding they share once more.

It is not hard to figure where she might be at early afternoon on a Wednesday, and so Killian turns his path toward the sheriff's station. Moreover, he knows for a fact that the station should be deserted and Emma free to see him, as he overheard at Granny's last night that David is taking the day to stay home and help care for a colicky young prince while his lovely wife catches up on lost sleep.

A devious smirk half-quirks his lips upward at the prospect of finding Emma lonely and bored and persuading her to grant him his request. It only broadens and causes his eyes to twinkle with mischief when he walks through the entrance and peers around the corner to see her puttering around between the two desks, two empty holding cells, and the filing cabinet, humming to herself obliviously, focused on her own thoughts.

Clearing his throat, Killian calls out, "Oi, Swan!" to make himself known as he steps into the room. Throwing her a winning smile, he walks forward to stand before her. "How goes it, Lass?"

Emma tilts her head to study him quizzically. She is curious as to the source of his good mood, but brightens at seeing it nonetheless, unable to keep the answering thrill from her own disposition. She gives him a small, knowing smile in return and dips her head in quick agreement. "I'm fine, Hook," she answers blandly, baiting him with the use of his pirate moniker. "How about you?"

"Oh, right as rain, Love" he banters back, the playful lilt of his voice teasing her once more. "Better now that you are here before me."

She flushes prettily, the blush staining the apples of her cheeks such a fetching pink that Killian finds himself wanting her to always be such a mixture of flattered and embarrassed. "You're ridiculous," she whispers, a grin flitting across her face before she shakes her head at him and moves into the nearest of the empty holding cells. The simple blanket on its cot is rumpled – he can only assume from either Will Scarlet or Leroy's last binge slept off under Emma's watch. Emma doesn't notice the way he trails her into the enclosed space on silent feet and stands watching her whilst leaning against the bars by the door to block her escape.

Emma bends to fluff the pillow and fold the cover, then turns to exit again and nearly walks right into his solid chest. "Killian!" she yelps, taken by surprise and stumbling backwards until he reaches out with his hook and deftly snags a belt loop of her jeans to pull her back into his space.

She licks her lips, eyes darting nervously for anywhere to land besides his blue gaze. "Come on, Killian. Let go. What are you doing in here anyway?" she chides him. The tone of correction is lost however by the breathless quality in her voice. The red traces have not left her skin, and he dares to hope there is attraction mixing with the self-consciousness now.

Pirate that he is, he pushes his advantage. Spinning them so that Emma is now trapped between the metal bars and his body, Killian leans in, his warm breath on her face, his voice seductively low, and lips brushing the shell of her ear. "I've come for our long-awaited second date, Swan," he nearly purrs. Pausing momentarily, he takes heady satisfaction from the way her body trembles against his before he continues. "And I won't be taking no for an answer."

Emma wiggles in his grip half-heartedly, but he can tell his Swan does not truly wish to evade his grasp – not now, not this time. "But…Killian…I've got a lot to do…I need to go and…I need to…"

He shakes his head at her, chuckling low in his throat at her flustered reaction and trailing arguments before bending his dark head and pressing his mouth to hers as a final end to her protests. "You'll not be running from me this time, Love," he taunts, his glittering blue orbs nothing but pure, irresistible trouble.

Her breath is still thin; she's embarrassed to admit that he nearly has her panting in his arms, desperate for his next caress, ready to throw her caution to the wind at last, her reservations burning down to dust. It is with a wispy voice and lowered eyes that she croaks out a response at all. "And what if I don't want to run, Captain?"

This time it is his breath that catches. Emma feels every muscle in him go still and sees his eyes darken to the color of midnight with desire. The seconds stretch on endlessly, the silence growing between them, and heating up, as they eye each other desperately. When she pulls her lower lip in, biting it nervously between her teeth, it is as though a match has been struck, finally setting alight the flame that has been awaiting kindling between them.

Killian practically lifts her off her feet as he presses himself to her from shoulder to knee, holding her up against the cell door. It's a good thing too, as Emma feels her legs go weak, unable to support herself as she melts into his fierce embrace. Her pirate's arms hold her tight, hand and hook roaming her arms and sides, his lips pressing to her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, and then back up, his bristly scruff deliciously scratching along her bare skin and raising shivers and gooseflesh.

She is suddenly struck with the memory of his first teasing smile as they started up that beanstalk so long ago, of his warm lips tying the knot of the makeshift bandage he had fashioned for her hand on that same first adventure, of him toying with her as they crossed blades beside the portal at Lake Nostos. All those moments, and everything he has done to prove himself to her since, flash through her mind, and she is nearly floored by them. Here as he plunders her lips, one kiss following another until she thinks blindly that she may never want to breathe without sharing his air again, she has never felt more in the thrall of a notorious pirate.

Shockingly, instead of scaring her, instead of making her fall back and shove another barrier up in his way, she only clings to him more desperately. While Killian may be setting all her senses ablaze, lighting a fire within her that only he can quench, she also feels the cool calm of the sea in his eyes, the freedom and peace that she never expected to find in another's arms. For all of the time she has spent trying to stay away from him, she realizes he has been trying to guide her safely into port, to call her home. The only home she will ever need to know.

Whichever new villain, whatever adventure they come up against next, Emma sees there is no choice now. Killian is with her, and she is with him. It may not be easy. It will never be safe. But she loves him, and she won't hold it back from him anymore. She will make sure he knows and never has to doubt again.