Title: Permanent Measures
Part: 1/?
Author: Roguie – and all my alternate personalities.
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Hook/Emma
Rating: Eventual M.
Spoilers: Up to and including 3x18 – Bleeding Through
Summary: Hook never stopped to realize the damage inflicted on his soul with each of his Swan's casual rejections until bitterness threatened to turn his love for her into something less than pure. Nothing worth fighting for comes without pain; tonight, he's ready to go to war.
Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time most certainly doesn't belong to me. If it did, there would've been fairy tale smut all up in Anton's beanstalk. And all over Neverland. Honestly, I would've traumatized Peter Pan the way Hook and Emma would've been behaving. But since it's not on HBO, and well, I don't get paid for anything I do with it, I can truly say, not it!
A/N: Yeah, this was supposed to be a hell of a lot more light hearted than what it came out to be. Just stick with me, I swear to god I believe in HEA. I'm really not sure why Killian felt the need to be all maudlin and broken and stuff for this chapter, but I tend to let my muse run with what she feels necessary. Toss her a cookie if you've got the mind, and let her know what you think.
~~~?~~~
It was long into the night as Killian Jones paced the quiet, dark streets of Storybrooke, Maine. Contrary to what was thought by the few who'd seen him, the leather clad man was stone cold sober, had no contrary plot in mind, and was not seeking trouble. No, he was doing the only thing he could to reign in the rampant emotions that were threatening to tear him apart; he was taking a beat, walking it off.
His world should have long since righted itself; with the threat of the wicked witch now passed, the citizens of Storybrooke were safely tucked into their homes, Henry was freed from her clutches and Emma was none the worse for wear. Regina remained safely enclosed in her white manor, the Charmings were settled into their new home with their new little prince, and even Killian himself was bedding down in the captain's cabin of the Jolly, moored at the Storybrooke docks, exactly where he belonged.
Everything should have been right, could have been right, perhaps even would have been right if he'd not fallen into the exact trap he'd avoided for three long and painful centuries. He scoffed lightly to himself as her name came to mind, a bitter taste in his mouth he could no longer blame on aged rum, and his battered heart rumbled to life, missing beats as it betrayed him for her. He'd not meant to pace his way to Granny's Inn, but the building stood in front of him anyhow, all the lights in the guest rooms dark but for one. Of course she'd not have settled down for the night, he'd left her not an hour before, high on warmed chocolate and cinnamon, vibrating from the sugar in the sweet confection that Ruby'd left to split between them.
Damnable pirate that he was, he'd watched her with lover's eyes all night. Took note in the extra curl to her long, blonde hair, drowned in the extra sparkle in her sea green eyes. His breath caught painfully suspended in his chest each time she moved close to him, her fingers trailing over his arm, his shoulder, his fingers or his hook. She'd danced with Henry as their friends celebrated their long awaited victory, looking very much the part of the saviour, surrounded by family, for one moment in time carefree and allowing herself the happiness she'd always kept an arms length out of reach. He'd mistakenly accepted her invitation to join her in dance, letting her lead him away from his seat at the bar by his hook, allowing her body to shift closer to him, moving to a rhythm she'd chosen from the music box nearby. He allowed her to torture him slowly, turning in his arms, pressing arse to thigh as she taunted him, encouraging his fingers to spread out against her flat stomach, holding her to him in a way he'd sacrifice absolutely anything to make permanent. Instead, the song ended and she spun again, moving lithely towards where her parents waited, taking a step out of her comfort zone and pulling her father out to share her next dance, leaving Killian to watch from the side once again as the world around him laughed and celebrated.
He couldn't pull his eyes from her, not for a second. He drank in every single moment of her happiness as though he were starved, and perhaps he truly was. Starved for Emma Swan, a weight more than one poor wretch in this land had bore, a fate he himself was destined to serve eternally.
He was surprised when she'd stayed behind as everyone else headed home, choosing to extend the time they had together into something more private, accepting the treats from Ruby as she and Granny closed the diner and left them to their own devices. It was not an unfamiliar scene, perhaps slightly more routine than his Swan would be comfortable admitting, and yet hardly enough to soothe the desperate burn in his soul. Perhaps he'd grown too accustomed to their time together, the only explanation for momentarily forgetting his place in her life as he'd leaned into her when it came time to part their ways.
She didn't stop him, perhaps the result of too much sugar, or the complacency brought on by their recent victory, and met his lips without the slightest of hesitation.
Christ, the groan that escaped his lips was embarrassing to say the least, but the press of her lips to his own was like coming home, and he lost himself in the sensation of her soft, sweet flesh. His heart pounded mercilessly in his chest as his lips moved over hers, his lungs burned with the need for air that he ignored while he lapped at her mouth encouragingly, pressing forward and into her the moment she opened for him. He lost himself entirely in the taste of her, her sweet little tongue duelling expertly with his, her warmth surrounding him, her legs suddenly around his hips as her back found a wall and he ground against her without remorse. His every wall crumbled and fell to ruins at his feet as he drowned in the feel of her against him, whimpering, moaning, sweet, sharp little cries escaping her when he left her lips for the soft flesh of her throat, his teeth cutting into her gently, his soul fed by the shiver she couldn't control when his tongue laved away the sting of his bite.
For one single moment in time, his world was utter perfection.
Perfection that shattered spectacularly when her mind caught up with her body and she stiffened against him. She should have been able to feel the violent implosion in his chest when she brought her hand up to push him away, her fingers directly over his heart as she put space between them, her eyes refusing his, her soul immediately hidden away within the fortress that she always required.
There weren't enough pieces of his heart left for him to retrieve when she finally found her voice, running her fingers through her hair as she shook her head, laughter without humour passing her red and kiss swollen lips.
"Shit," she cursed softly, swallowing thickly as she tried to bring light to her eyes to cover the lies of her denial. "What'd Ruby put in the hot chocolate?"
Normally, he'd play along with her, allow her to retreat, to hide herself away without the risk of damage, but he'd come too far, too fast, and his resolve to move at her pace finally snapped.
"One day, love, you'll realize it's not the drink at hand, a hint of gratitude, or the adrenaline of our adventure that brings you to my arms. Something you may want to consider whilst you lay alone tonight. Our lives truly don't come with a guarantee of tomorrow. Not anymore."
"What the hell, Hook? You kissed me." Her eyes flashed momentarily with guilt before she covered it with sharp anger, off step by the way he for once refused to play into her abject denial.
"Don't get all self righteous now, Princess, you gave as well as you took."
She spared him the sharpened edge of her tongue as she spun on her heel, leaving him alone in the darkened diner, returning to the percieved safety of her room at the inn.
She truly didn't see the fracture she'd caused inside him, the fissure of emptiness in his soul that grew with each and every rejection she forced him to endure or the way his once seemingly endless reservoir of hope had drained to a meagre offering. While he stood in the darkness on the sidewalk and watched as she moved through her room, the chill of the night seeping into his bones unnoticed, his traitorous heart still beating with every ounce of cursed love he harboured, Killian understood that she'd not meant to break him.
For once, he just couldn't help that she had.
Three hundred years ago, his life had splintered because of love. His love for Milah, her love for him, the crocodile's warped sense of love for her and their son. Love had easily blackened into a hatred so deep that no one who'd walked away from that confrontation had ever managed to truly recover. Killian's life had been ruled by vengeance to the point he'd failed to honestly live. The crocodile's life ruled by a dark power that stripped away his very identity. Even young Baelfire had suffered, his life ruled by losses he'd never been given the chance to understand: his mother, his father, his home, the sense of security every child should possess.
Love had been so powerful that without something permanent to ground it, they all three changed their lives in a fleeting moment that took from them more than they could afford to give. Even now, lesson long since learned, Killian felt bitterness and betrayal beginning to warp the love he held for Emma that until tonight he'd thought pure.
He needed something to ground him. Something to remind him that he had the patience necessary to wait out her fear. Something to drive into him every single time he looked in the mirror that Emma Swan would one day take her place at his side.
His blue eyes brightened as he spun on his heel, moving silently away from Granny's while an idea quickly formed, his step lightened, and the dark tendrils of poison slowly loosened their grip on his heart. He didn't notice her shadow shifting closer to the window, or the shade move as she peered out into the night. He certainly didn't notice her sorrow filled gaze as she watched him turn towards the more questionable part of their sleepy little town where a certain bar that tended to certain less savoury clientele was surely still to be open. With the distance between them he couldn't have noticed the tears that betrayed her, falling silently as she let the shade fall and turned out the light, realizing she had no right tonight to beg that he turn back and comfort her, forgive her.
The turbulence inside him smoothed over, and for the first time in quite a while, Killian felt at peace with what he was about to do. He'd spent the better part of the last years making choices that were selfless, putting others first and all that rot, all in an attempt to prove to Emma he could be the man that could put back together the broken pieces of her soul. He'd just lost track of the damage he was doing to his own in the process. Tonight, he would take the selfish road and do something entirely for his own peace of mind.
It wasn't like anyone would be around to see the result, anyhow. At least nobody that would care.
~~~TBC~~~
Much like magic, all muses come with a price. My muse's price is the little button down below here. She can never have too much encouragement.
