I had this idea that Emma might know about true love breaking the curse on Killian's lips, but not being able to pass that information on due to panic. If it plays out like this on the show, I imagine more angst, but I'm a sucker for a happy ending ;)
…
Don't Act Like it's a Bad Thing to Fall in Love with Me
…
"Killian," she leans down next to his mouth, listening for a breath, feeling for a pulse, "Shit, Hook. Come on, wake up." He's drenched from the well, his body limp and lifeless and it terrifies her. "Killian," she tries again, a little bit louder and punctuated with a soft slap to his face, "You need to wake up, come on."
Nothing.
Damn him. Of course it would come down to this. Not a soul in sight to help, his life fading right in front of her and his cursed lips beckoning to her like a siren of the sea. She knows the cost of her lips touching his, but she's realising way too fast that the price of not letting it happen is far worse.
With a resigned sigh, she starts compressions, counting out loud because her mind is a jumbled mess right now and she can't trust herself to get it right unless she's shouting. Every push is a wish that he would just wake up, every motion a plea.
She reaches forward, pinching his nose with one hand and opening his mouth with the other. She'd be lying if she said she thought they'd never kiss again, but this was the complete opposite of what she thought would be happening. Her lips seal around his as she blows air into his lungs and she expects to be thrown back by the force of her magic leaving her, but instead she feels something quite different and somewhat familiar.
A burst of energy radiates out from their lips and, as she breaks away briefly, she realises exactly what's happened. The curse has been lifted from his lips which can only mean that their love is true.
The shock of that revelation is nearly enough to knock her back, but she knows she needs to get Killian breathing again before she can process what the hell just happened. She resumes compressions, her eyes intent on the pirate, a whispered, "Please," uttered with every press.
"Don't you dare die," she says before pressing her lips to his again and blowing.
She's back to compressions before his eyes fly open wide and a gasping breath escapes him. He coughs and splutters, looking around wildly and locking eyes with Emma within seconds.
"Thank god," she moans, sitting back on the grass next to him, her heart racing, the adrenaline in her system making her feel dizzy. She pulls out her phone, now that she has the time, and calls for an ambulance to get Killian to the hospital.
"I don't have to go anywhere," he protests, his voice scratchy and strained. But Emma insists until he is in the back of the small patient transport vehicle, telling him she'll be right behind him.
…
She takes a walk down to the docks to clear her head. It only then strikes her how odd it is that she always gravitates down that way when she needs to think. It's almost as though something is pulling her there.
Someone.
She shakes her head; it's not supposed to be like this. She's the saviour and she sure as hell doesn't get a day off. Who decided that she gets a true love? How is she supposed to fit that in?
A combination of emotions hits her at once, the residual adrenaline bringing the tears on as well.
And as she stares out at the water and cries, deep heaving sobs laden with more meaning than she can process right now, she realises just how close she had come to losing him.
…
"I was beginning to think you weren't coming." His voice still sounds off, not quite his usual lilt, but strained and tired.
She sets down the flowers she'd picked up on a whim (because what does one get a pirate in hospital?) and sits lightly on the edge of his bed, "I just had to take care of a few things."
His hand touches hers on top of the blankets and he looks up at her with curiosity, "You've been crying." It's not a question but a statement and she feels the walls close in a little. She doesn't speak, but that's all the answer he needs, "What happened out there? I remember the witch and the well and then waking up."
She'll never be able to justify her next sentence, will never be able to understand herself and why she didn't just tell him then and there, but she figures that it has to do with panic, "You did all the hard work. I was just about to call an ambulance when you came to."
Lies.
He watches her avert her gaze. For someone who prides herself on being able to spot a lie, she's awful at telling one, "No, something else happened."
She shakes her head. The pirate wouldn't even know about CPR and how to resuscitate someone that way, he can't know. "That's it." She stands, "You need to rest," she says it dismissively and turns away from him, walking from the room without much further ado.
His eyes watch her, recognising the threads of tension across her shoulders and knows that she's not being honest with him. But she is right and he does need to rest, so he lies back and makes a decision to confront her about it later.
…
It plays on his mind though, the way she'd just swept it under the rug. Because for all the lies she can tell about what had happened, he knows the truth. He knows her feel, her taste, her smell. The lonely nights spent apart from her had been punctuated with dreams of their one shared moment in the Neverland jungle.
While she had been cursed with forgetting, he had been cursed with remembering. And with memories his only vice, he had committed every detail to his mind's eye.
So while she says that nothing had happened, he knows for a fact that his lips had been tingling with her taste moments after he'd awoken. He knows that her breath resided in him, that her fingertips had been pressing against his chest in rhythmic compressions. He knows that their love had cured him of his curse.
And it pains him greatly that she finds it necessary to hide that from him. He know they had fought over him trying to take Henry away and the choices that should be left to a parent, but when she had come to him later and apologised for her rash words, he'd thought they were taking a step forward.
He just doesn't understand why they have to constantly take the backwards steps as well.
…
A couple of days pass in battle, Zelena's power almost too much for Emma's light magic. But in the end, she knows she needs to protect her new baby brother and the intense rush of feelings over that particular thought has her digging deep to access the true potential of her magic.
Her eyes meet Killian's for the briefest of moments, his sword raised high in the air against one of the flying monkeys who was, very likely, originally a member of his crew, and she feels something spark within her. She has the knowledge of what they are, of what they hold between them, and she uses that to her advantage. She blinks away from him, focusing her energy on Zelena.
A slow creeping white burst of magic comes from her fingertips and extends out towards the witch. Regina stands by her side, encouraging her, pushing her further, "A little more, Emma. It's working."
The saviour closes her eyes, concentrating hard on defeating their foe. Her hands ache, her body is tired, but she keeps pressing on, a white wind building up to counter the green tornado moving towards them at a rapid pace.
A voice from over the sounds of rushing winds and Regina's encouragement breaks through everything else, a soft accent whispering in her ear, "That's it, love. Easy." Her eyes fly open once more and she sees Killian watching her with hope. The corners of his mouth quirk up in wonder and awe and she feels it right in her heart.
The last thing she sees is a flash of his teeth as he smiles at her and then their world is engulfed in white and she knows they've won.
…
Her brother stirs in his mother's arms as she rocks him back and forth. It takes a monumental amount of effort to keep the small part of jealousy that flares up in her down, but looking at Snow and little Leopold (how her mother had won that argument she'll never know) she knows she would never begrudge her parents their second chance.
It's late and she's beyond exhausted. Killian had even insisted that if he had to go to hospital for nearly drowning then she should definitely be in there for bringing the wicked witch down with pure light magic. She had merely smiled at his concern, but insisted that she needed some family time. When he'd nodded and gone to take his leave, she had pulled him back with certainty and told him that he was part of that family now. No more questions, no more secrets. There is no time left for excuses.
As Leopold starts to squirm and cry, Emma leans over to kiss her mother on the cheek, "We'll leave you to it." She grasps Henry's hand, but the boy's eyes flick to Killian's and she knows they're having a silent discussion that she's not privy to.
"Actually mom, if it's okay, I'd like to stay here the night. Sleep in my old bed and all…"
Emma looks at Killian who shrugs. So apparently she's not the only one who doesn't know about Henry's reasoning. "Uh, yeah. Mary Margaret? David?"
There's obviously still a little left over tension about the whole finding the prince and princess boring thing because, despite having a very new baby in the loft, they're happy to take Henry too. Emma kisses his forehead and gives her father a hug. "I'll collect him in the morning," she says, turning back to Killian and breathing deep.
It's time to face some truths, she realises, time to let go of the past and embrace the future.
…
"You have a very perceptive lad there, Swan," he swings his head over his shoulder, gesturing back to the loft, "Could tell without me saying a word that I wished to speak with you."
She smiles at the compliment. Sometimes she wonders if Henry would have turned out different had he been raised by her, but she's coming to realise that some characteristics are just born into people no matter what their upbringing.
"And what is it that you wished to speak about?" she asks, trying to maintain a sense of mystery in her voice, though she's almost certain she knows where this is going.
"Zelena is gone and all her curses undone with her vanquishing. So if you and I were to kiss now, I would never know whether the curse on my lips had been broken before or after her death." He stops outside Granny's, just under the archway and turns to face her.
Emma looks up at the pirate, "Just ask me."
She's ready now, ready to tell the truth, ready to live this kind of life, the sort where you can have happiness.
It's cold in the night, but she can feel warmth radiating off him as he moves in closer, "Did you break my curse when you brought me out of the well?"
She meets his gaze head on, wanting to do the right thing by him, "Yes."
Some kind of cloudiness leaves his eyes with that one simple word, clarity beaming out of him, "Your lips met mine and you kept your magic?"
She smiles, "Yes."
She lets it sink in for a moment, everything rushing through his mind at a crazy pace, "Are we-?"
But he doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence, her fingers closing around the lapels of his coat and pulling him into her. "Yes," she whispers once more before their lips connect, a breathy sigh escaping them both as they finally let go.
His hand is in her hair while one of hers draws him closer by the back of his neck. It's passionate, intense and raw. And neither of them want it to end. But they are in public and when Emma rolls her hips forward and feels his arousal already, she knows they need to move it inside.
She breaks away, loving the way his hand cups her jaw, thumb brushing over her lips. It's a quiet moment, something just for them. And then the bell above Granny's door rings, Belle and Rumple escaping out into the night, and they are reminded of all the people they're going to have to face inside the diner before they can get to their rooms.
As the former Dark One and his love disappear down the road, Killian leans in to kiss Emma's nose, "How should we proceed?"
She smiles up at him, taking his hand with confidence, "Together."
…
Thoughts?