A/N just a quick one-shot after a fight with the Wicked Witch, because Sunday (or Monday for those of us in Aus) is too far away!
I own nothing.
The door creaked shut behind Emma as she quietly entered the room, drawing the attention of the other three people in the loft.
"Emma," Mary Margret exclaimed rushing to her daughter, engulfing her as she did.
"Henry get to Regina's okay?" David asked as he moved towards his family, thankful for the boy's memories to have been returned days beforehand. A small nod from his daughter was his only acknowledgment, with exhaustion and pain from the earlier battle ghosting her face.
"Come, sit," Mary Margret said, arm stretched pointing to the couch, "we need to talk about what happened and make a plan for tomorrow. David, can you fetch the first aid kit please?" she continued in the authoritative voice of a mother.
"No." Emma spoke quietly, instantly stopping them in their tracks, "I'm fine."
"Sweetie, I saw what that witch did to you, you're bound to have a few injuries." Mary Margret said, concern lacing her voice, looking to her husband for support.
"Your mothers right Emma, just let us help." David stated.
"I'm fine." She shot back, attempting to use more force to get her point across. She glanced up at the man in leather standing back from her parents for the first time since entering the room, hoping he would back her up.
"We are just worried about you." David responded.
"Right now I have a lot of other things to worry about than a few scratches," she said, trying to keep the tiredness from seeping into her voice, "Henry is safe at Regina's which I'm grateful about because that's one less thing I have to worry about, but the list is still long." She watched as parents looked at her, almost shocked at her outburst.
"Swan, how about we get you cleaned up?" Killian said, breaking the silence that had overcome the loft. Emma's eyes shot up to his as he moved towards her. "And then you can rest. How does that sound, Love?" he asked gently, watching as she dropped her head and sighed.
Both David and Mary Margret made a move to protest, but Emma's small step toward the pirate, stopped them before they had a chance.
"Come on then, Love." Killian said, placing his hand on the small of her back as he guided her up the stairs, away from the eyes of her parents. She relaxed into his side, using him for support, thankful in this instance that he could read her so well, that he knew she didn't want show her parents just how much these last few days had affected her.
He ushered her into her bedroom, removing her jacket for her before turning on a bedside lamp as she sat on the edge of her bed. It was only know, in the dim light away from everybody else that he was able to see just how physically and mentally exhausting this fight had been on her. Her eyes were glazed over, her lack of sleep evident but also how much the thought of sleep terrified her, her body was bent over and limp, almost appearing drugged by how out of it she seemed.
"I'm just going to take off your boots." He whispered into her ear, his breath warming the side of her neck. She didn't respond, nor did she make any indication that she heard him, but he knew she did.
Killian slowly begun taking her boots off, glad she hadn't chosen to wear anything with laces or anything else difficult to remove one-handed. Once her boots and socks were off, he stood moving towards the head of the bed. He pulled back the doona, unsurprised by her lack questioning as she watched his movements.
Putting his hand out to her, he gently told her to stand, catching her eyes as she took his hand and stood in front of him. Bending his head forward, he quietly spoke into her ear again, telling her he was going to remove her pants, the sentence lacked anything of the romantic sense, a simple fact. She swayed slightly into him as he carefully started undoing her jeans, she was surprised that she could still even stand, with every last bit of adrenaline and determination to fight having left her body.
She barely felt him softly push her to sit back on the bed, this time in the space where he had pulled the doona back, and fully remove her jeans. She watched as his eyes racked over her bare legs, trying to see every bruise and every cut, though she was unable to take in any of her own injuries but she wasn't worried, she trusted him enough.
"Only seems to be bruises, Darling, they will be painful tomorrow but nothing life threatening." He whispered into her ear before lifting her legs onto the bed and pulling the doona up to her waist. Her new sitting position allowed her to lean against the bed's headboard, taking so much more weight off her body.
He sat next to her on the bed, facing away from the door, so didn't notice as Mary Margret showed up in the door way. Leaning forward, he whispered into Emma's ear, "I'm going to take your top off now, Love." She knew this meant that she would have to sit forward, but couldn't find the strength at the time to and decided that he would either ask her to or just do it himself.
As he set to work undoing her buttons, he felt the distinctive feeling of being watch, which he knew wasn't coming from the women in front of him as he knew her attention was fading, the only knowledge that she was even still alive was the even rise and fall of her chest. Finishing the last button he went to move the two sides of her top away, so caught up in his concern for her that he almost missed the slight shuffle from the doorway.
When she felt him move to whisper in her ear, she had expected a request to lean forward, so when he told her that her mother was at the door, she was taken aback before she looked at the door.
Mary Margret had been watching, horrified that her daughter was allowing the pirate to undress her, to get close to her, to take care of her. She was surprised when Killian whispered in her ear and get no response, but seem unfazed by this. The second time she witness this, she had been slightly concerned he was going to take advantage of her apparent state, but then she realised Emma was actually paying attention to his words when she lifted her gaze to look at her.
"Mary Margret?" Emma questioned quietly, quickly attempting to cover some of her brokenness, the pirate next to her turned slightly to look at the women in the doorway with the same question on his face.
"I-I just thought you might like a hot coco," She stammered out, moving towards them. "I wasn't sure how you like yours Hook, so I just made it the same," She rambled handing them both their hot drinks. "And I brought some antiseptic wipes."
"Thanks, Milady," Killian said as he placed his hot drink on the bedside table and taking the wipes, before making sure Emma was okay with her cup.
"Is there anything else I can do?" Mary Margret asked helplessly.
"I think we are right, right Love?" Killian turned to Emma.
"We're good, Thank-you though." She managed to say somewhat well, before taking a small sip to give confidence to her claim.
"Alright then, just let me know if there's anything you need." Mary Margret stated as she left.
Killian took a sip of his drink before taking Emma's off her and placing it on the table next to his. Turning his full attention back to her, he carefully helped her get out of her bloodstained top. "You're a tough lass," he said quietly, almost to himself, as his eyes skimmed over her battered and bruised skin.
"This might sting a bit." He whispered into her ear, before lightly kissing her jawline in an apology of sorts.
As he set to work cleaning her wounds with the antiseptic wipes, he watched as her level of consciousness dropped once more, until she was at a stage that had it not been for her open eyes, he would have believed her to be asleep. He was grateful that she let him look after her that she trusted him enough that she could be this open with him, especially after he had watched her exchange with her mother, how she had managed to find some energy to but on a brave face.
Finishing, he looked at the women next to him. She was only wearing underwear and yet she didn't seem to have the slightest care about her current state of undress, she didn't even seem to care when he looked into her eyes, reading her so well. He saw a defeated lost girl who had fought too many battles in her life and he hated the fact that she was going to have to do it all again tomorrow.
Standing and going to her closet, he found a t-shirt that looked comfortable and returned to help her into it. "Now, my dear, you need to sleep." He stated, using his hook to lift her chin to hold her gaze.
She knew he was reading her, she knew that she had absolutely no energy to put up any of her walls and she knew that she should be bothered, but she wasn't. She couldn't fight many more battles like this and carry all the weight on her shoulders, she needed him to help her, to standby her and to support her. But most of all she needed them to both survive.
"We will beat her." He told her sincerely, dropping his hook and allowing her to drop their gaze. "Sleep love." He said rising as she moved into a lying position, staring at him.
He turned off the lamp and went to the other side of the bed, having read her face, having heard her silent plea not to leave her. Removing his leather and hook, and quickly sliding into the bed next to her. She immediately rolled over to half lay on him, soaking up his warmth and his strength, falling asleep almost instantly.