Dedicated to and specially written for Rachel, aka OSwanoghue on Tumblr; who had a dream and made a post. And then a story was born...
Disclaimer: they don't belong to me. But really wish they did.
It was over. Henry was safe, his kidnappers were gone, and the shadow was defeated, driven away to some dark place deep in the greenery of the island where it would not likely be heard from anytime soon. Everyone was alive and well and gathered together on one of Neverland's more secluded beaches, quietly celebrating their reunion. The danger and near misses of the day were forgotten as if they never happened. But Emma couldn't just forget.
She should be with them, she knew. She should be holding her son, laughing with her parents, continuing to mold the tenuous peace between herself, Regina, and Gold. But for some reason the overflow of relief and joy there on the beach had become too much for her to bear. And so she'd retreated, letting Henry and her family have their joyous moment while she vanished into the trees alone to clear her head and let it all sink in. She had to come to terms with what she'd almost lost before she'd even had it.
The events of the day played out like a horror movie in Emma's memory as she stepped farther into the trees. The long tedious hunt for her son had culminated suddenly that afternoon in a battle of deadly shadows, adrenaline, and ringing swords. Greg and Tamara had traded Henry off to the Lost Ones and then simply vanished, using some unknown means to return to their own world. It would have been good news to be rid of them, but suddenly instead of tracking two hate-driven people from the 'Land-Without-Magic', Emma and her family had found themselves facing a small army of Lost Ones and the Shadow; a hideously gaunt figure that would likely haunt her nightmares for an eternity.
Hook had driven himself into the fray with a steely malice and cool-headed calculation, dispatching—but not killing—half a dozen of their adolescent enemies on his way to where Henry was being dragged away screaming by a tall boy he'd called Felix. Emma winced as she remembered the horrible feeling of being powerless to help him, unable to move past the press of the other Lost Ones as Felix shoved Henry away, intending to toss him over the cliff they fought near.
Emma shouted out her son's name as he lost his balance and began to fall, but Hook got there just in the nick of time, dropping his sword and snagging her son back from the edge with his good arm. Felix had backed away, using Hook's distraction with the rescue to make his escape. He broke for the shelter of the forest, lifting some sort of horn to his lips and blowing it as he retreated. Emma's last glimpse of the monstrous older boy had been his sinister smirk as he stepped back and vanished into the forest.
That was when hell broke loose.
Hook was on his way back to her with Henry when the Shadow had appeared, swooping over the trees to answer the call of the Lost One's leader. Seeing the wraith-like creature heading in their direction, Hook had moved quickly, pushing Henry into the arms of the closest family member and whirling to meet the new attacker with a roar of challenge. He faced the monster, armed only with his hook; his sword still lying useless on the ground beyond his reach.
The Lost Ones were beginning to scatter, but a few of the stronger willed were fighting on, keeping the mismatched family occupied as the Shadow continued to advance. Emma could do nothing but watch helplessly from a distance as Hook was driven slowly backwards, each step taking him closer to the cliff's edge. When he had no more room to spare, she'd seen him take in his desperate position and come to terms with it in a way that still left her reeling from the insanity of it.
Hook had glanced around, taking stock of the group's entire situation with a calculating eye. His sword was too far away to reach, Emma and her family too far away to help, Henry safe in the grasp of Regina, who appeared torn between the desire to give her adopted son her full attention and the need to wield her magic against the new threat. She was already beginning to conjure a ball of fire to throw at the shadow, but Emma could see as plainly as Hook did that it wouldn't be ready in time. Seeing no other options left open to him, she watched as Hook made one final decision.
He straightened, a posture of proud defiance coming over him as he faced the steadily approaching Shadow. He took one last look in Emma's direction, locking eyes with her and nodding once…before deliberately taking the last step back over the edge.
Emma heard herself scream as he fell beyond her sight, Regina's ball of magical flame hitting the shadow squarely in the back in the same instant, but it was just a second too late to matter. The Shadow let out an eerie wail, writhing in pain and falling back from the edge Hook had vanished over, finally allowing David and Emma to rush forward and look down.
Frantic with a worry she didn't quite understand, Emma had dropped to her knees at the precipice, forcing herself to peer over it even though she feared what she would see when she did. Relief flooded her when she met Hook's pained gaze as he hung on, hook and hand clinging precariously to a rough crag in the cliff face. She and David had hauled him up while Regina and Gold fired flame after flame at the retreating Lost Ones and Shadow, Mary Margaret standing guard over Henry a short distance away.
When they got him back on solid ground, the three of them had collapsed in an awkward heap, lying flat on the grass and panting for breath. By then, Emma was so weak with relief that she hadn't realized how tightly she was holding Hook's hand, or that she was muttering his name… his real name…over and over again like a prayer.
"Killian, thank God, Killian, Killian…"
Awareness of the fact had only come when he'd raised his head from the ground, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and smiling up at her.
"I'm still here lass, thanks to you. Though I'm flattered at your persistence."
His low voice penetrated the fog of her senses, speaking only loud enough so she could hear him.
She'd scrambled back then, letting his hand drop from hers as David hauled him upright somewhat roughly.
"That was some dumb move you pulled right there, Hook," he groused. "What, did you forget you can't fly?"
Hook dusted himself off and smirked, his eyes still not leaving Emma's face as he answered her father.
"I merely thought you'd enjoy coming to my rescue, Prince. I understand that's something of a habit for you."
She'd turned away as David grumbled a reply, forcibly breaking her eye contact with Hook. She busied herself with the task of untying Henry's hands, studiously ignoring the way her heart was pounding in her ears and the lingering chill at realizing what had almost been lost to her forever.
Emma pulled herself back to the present with a shake of her head. That moment was the last thing she wanted to be thinking about right now. Hook's quiet presence and her mother's knowing stare were two things she'd wanted to escape by coming out here in the first place. She was not anywhere near ready to explore the feelings she had come to realize she had as Hook had taken that last step…No, not yet. Not now.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of cool night air, picturing instead the scene she had just left.
Her family would be back there on the beach around the bonfire David had built, keeping the shadows away with their hushed laughter and its light. Mary Margaret and David would doubtless be sitting somewhere together, holding hands and watching Henry with a close eye. Gold would be apart from them, sitting straight and unnaturally still on his perch near the fire, observing them with a glint in his eye that said he knew more of their secrets than he let on. Regina would be as close to Henry as she would be allowed, gazing at him in wonder and covetous joy, stealing her hand out to touch him whenever she could. And there somewhere on the edge of the firelight would be Hook, standing apart from them, watching, always watching; a dark, solid presence of strength and intensity that caused Emma's heart to quicken against her will.
At that moment a twig snapped behind her, breaking her out of her thoughts and making the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Emma slowly moved her hand to the grip of the sword she still carried on her hip and counted down from five, pivoting in her stride as she reached one. She brought the blade up defensively as she turned to face whatever was behind her, inwardly praying that it wasn't the Shadow.
Her blade rang against the silver steel of a hook and was jerked from her hand before she could fully focus on the fact that it was none other than Hook himself who had followed her out into the trees. Speak of the devil…
"Hook?!"
The name came out of her a bit more shrilly than she'd intended as she recognized his dark form in the patchy moonlight filtering through the trees. She was glad for the semi-darkness, hoping her flush of surprise and frustration wasn't visible to him.
Hook nodded to her in greeting, flipping the sword he'd taken from her around and offering it back hilt first, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Aye lass. Still a tad jumpy, I see."
Emma snatched the sword back from him with an irritated huff, sheathing it vehemently and glaring up at him.
"What the hell are you doing out here?"
Hook raised an eyebrow and smiled lightly. "I should ask you the same. You know, we may have struck fear into the hearts of our enemies today, but this island is still far too unsafe to be exploring alone in the dark."
Emma snorted and rolled her eyes, still attempting to cover up her startlement at his stealthy approach. How the hell did he manage to do that anyway, wearing all of that damned heavy leather?
"I'm fine, thanks. I can take care of myself. Just go on back to the beach."
She pointedly turned her back on him and took a few steps farther down the trail into the trees. Right now all she wanted was to be as far away from him as she could get. She needed time to bury her stubborn emotions again before they could become too much of a liability. But as she moved she could hear his unusually light footsteps behind her as he followed. The man obviously wasn't going to just take a hint and go away.
Emma sighed heavily and turned to face him again. "What do you want, Hook?"
He stopped a few paces away and smiled at her, a softer, warmer smile that brightened his eyes and made her breath hitch in her throat.
"Merely the pleasure of your company and conversation, Swan."
Emma's traitor of a heart pounded at the soft sound of his voice and her hands balled into fists at her sides against the influx of emotions it wrought in her. Inwardly she groaned.
Why wouldn't he just go away?
"I don't think you really want me to do that, love."
His answer startled her, and it took Emma a few seconds to realize she'd said her last thought aloud. She could feel the careful control she'd managed to maintain until now begin to slip away, and it made her feel suddenly helpless. God help her, but she was getting so very sick and tired of feeling that way. Always helpless, always lost, everything always spiraling out of her control. It was getting ridiculous. And suddenly, instead of feeling helpless she just felt angry.
Rage built in her gut like a fire, burning upwards and sending heated waves into her heart, blocking out all the unwanted thoughts she'd been battling all day. Seizing the new emotion like it was a lifeline, she spun on him and just let him have it.
"No, you know what Hook, just go away. Did it ever occur to you that I don't want your company? That maybe, just maybe I don't want you near me at all? Because right now I don't! I don't need your innuendos, I don't need your protection, your attitude, or your cocky bullshit. I don't need you. So just take a damn hint and leave me the hell alone!"
She stood rigid in the trail, anger rolling off of her in waves. Emma could see his eyes harden in the moonlight and felt a certain perverse satisfaction at having finally made some sort of contact in that thick head of his. Deep down somewhere below her rage, she realized how ungrateful the whole tirade had probably come across. If she hadn't been so angry, she probably would have felt a bit sorry. But right now she just didn't give a damn, and she enjoyed the look of irritation that flickered in his eyes.
Hook stood a moment in silence, his own posture rigid. Just for a minute Emma thought he was going to yell back, and part of her welcomed it. If she could manage to be angry with him for a few days, it would sure make it a hell of a lot easier to put aside the other emotions that threatened her sanity tonight.
But he shook it off in a matter of seconds, slipping the mask of smug confidence right back on.
"Well you certainly seemed to feel like you needed me this afternoon. Nearly crushed the bones my remaining hand if I recall correctly."
He smirked and held up his right hand, letting it hang limp and wobbly from his wrist, teasing her.
"Yeah, well that was a moment of stupid weakness," Emma spat back, infuriated at his mockery. "Whatever you think that meant, it didn't. God, I should have just let you fall off that cliff while I had the chance to be rid of..."
Emma's voice faltered and she cut herself off, realizing with a shock what she'd just said. The horrible picture him taking that last step over the edge replayed itself in her mind again and Emma felt all the irrational anger drain suddenly away as she realized depth of the cruelty and falsehood of those last few words.
She stood in sincere regret as she watched him take a step back, his expression hardening. All the light left his eyes and he was suddenly emotionless and cold, staring at her in the moonlight as if she were a complete stranger to him. For the first time since they'd met she saw within him the dark embittered heart her world's fairytales had sworn he possessed. But instead of menacing, he simply looked broken. That thought alone made her heart plummet, hurt searing through it as she wondered if she'd just pushed him back over that fine line completely.
Hook stared at her, his piercing blue eyes searching hers in the moonlight.
"You don't trust me."
The words came out low and harsh, paining Emma more than she could bear. She shook her head.
"Please just go away," she pleaded in a whisper, wishing she could take back the last five minutes of everything and never speak at all.
He took one step forward and leaned down closer to her, his gaze still probing her for answers.
"After all this time, after all we've been through and all I've done, you still don't trust me…"
His voice came in low, cold tones that cut through the still night air like a dagger, etched with a very real pain. Emma took a step back, startled by the hurt evident in the depths of his eyes. Every last shred of control and defiance faded from her in a heartbeat as she realized she'd never even thanked him for risking his life rescuing her son. And now she'd just essentially told him it was meaningless, he was meaningless, that no matter what he did he'd still be on the outside. And every single word of it had been the blackest kind of lie.
"No!" she said quickly, trying desperately to correct all the wrong turns she'd taken since leaving the beach. "No, that's not true. I do trust you. You know I do…I just…"
She trailed off and looked away, unsure of what to say next. Hook's face remained an unreadable mask, but she could feel an intent question hanging in the air between them as he waited for her to continue.
Finally Emma sighed, deliberately meeting his eyes and speaking with the utmost sincerity, trying to pour every ounce of gratitude she felt for everything he'd done to help them reach Henry into her words and expression.
"Hook, you saved my son. He's the only thing I've thought or cared about since we left Storybrooke. You almost…" She halted, biting back the last word.
She knew if she said the words 'You almost died…' her emotions would get the best of her and she'd end up revealing far more of herself than she wanted to, even now.
Emma took a sharp breath and tried again.
"Hook, you risked your life getting Henry back to me. And I never thanked you for doing that. I can never even begin to repay you for everything you've done for him, and for me. After what you did today, I…I don't think it's possible for me not to trust you…"
She stopped herself there, knowing if she said any more she would begin to say things that could never be taken back, set things into motion that couldn't be stopped.
Hook tilted his head to the side, studying her face from under his dark lashes. Emma suppressed the urge to look away, knowing what he would read into it and fearing that he would regardless. He watched her for a long moment, considering the sincerity of her words, watching her expressions.
Finally he spoke, voice soft, words blunt and to the point.
"Then why is it, Swan, that each time we seem to get close to something tangible, I feel as if I'm constantly throwing myself against an impenetrable wall?"
The words shook Emma to the core and she made an involuntarily gasp as she realized how deeply he had read her anyway. She really was like a damned open book, and he kept turning the pages.
He took another step closer, starting to close the gap between them, still pinning her with his gaze.
"How many times must we circle 'round each other before that wall finally comes down?"
Emma hesitated, avoiding his eyes and struggling to find the right words to say without saying far, far too much. Hook remained silent, letting the question hang heavy in the air, watching her, giving her time and space to say what she needed to say. It was a gesture which, oddly enough, made the whole process ten times more stressful.
Damn him for making things so difficult…
She looked down, unable to face his intense gaze as she finally admitted the truth.
"Hook I…Look, I just don't know how to trust anyone with… with how I feel. I never have."
She swallowed hard, finishing under her breath. "Especially with you…"
Hook tilted his head again, looking down at her with the shadow of a frown on his face.
Emma wasn't sure what to expect from her admission. But the question he asked took her by surprise.
"Who was it that broke your heart and your trust so thoroughly?" he wondered aloud.
His voice remained calm but it was edged with accusation, as if he would gladly thrust his hook into the heart of whoever had done it.
Emma sighed, closing her eyes and letting an image of Neal form in her memory. She saw him with Henry, laughing with him, playing with him, being the fun Dad every kid dreams of having. She remembered feeling his hand slipping from hers and trying desperately to hold on as he fell through the portal, knowing he would bleed to death and die somewhere alone on the other side. She felt the rapidly diminishing sorrow of his passing, and knew it was nothing compared it to the excruciating absence of him she'd held on to for years after he'd abandoned her, clinging foolishly to the idea of their happy ending long after she knew it would never come. She'd finally given it up; replacing it instead with a wall built of mistrust that seemed impossible to tear down, even after all the time she'd spent surrounded by people who loved her.
Emma suddenly found she could remember all of that now without pain, as if he'd begun to take all of it with him as he'd fallen through the splintered floor of the cannery and into another world. She wouldn't call it closure, but it was a damn sight closer to it than she'd ever been in her life. She mourned his pointless death, the loss of him in Henry's life, the loss of the one she'd loved first, but not in the way she had expected to. Because now, for the first time since he'd left her she felt like she could begin to let go of those wasted years and not look back. There was something different now, something better to look forward to…starting with her family and with her son.
Emma slowly raised her eyes, smiling slightly at the frustrated frown on Hook's face as he tried to read everything she'd just felt. Apparently for once it wasn't so easy.
"It doesn't matter who he is, Hook," she said softly. "Not now. Because he's… well he's gone. He's really not coming back this time, and I think…I think I can live with that."
Hook was silent for a long moment, studying her face. She met his gaze evenly, letting him see enough of her heart to know she was telling him the truth. That that part of her life was well and truly behind her.
He took a long time, observing her carefully before he let his expression soften, the hard mask of a moment ago falling away to Emma's quiet satisfaction. He broke the silence, his voice low and rough with a sentiment she didn't quite recognize.
"Emma, whoever the bastard was, he left you, and left you broken. But I…"
He paused, stepping forward slowly, speaking with such earnest tones that Emma fairly hung on every single word as he closed that last distance between them.
"I am right here, love. I've been standing right in front of you for a long while."
He took one final step and stopped, mere inches separating them in the moonlight. Emma stood rooted to the spot, unable to find it within herself to back away.
"I want you to know you can trust me with anything."
Emma felt her breath quicken as he leaned in closer still, his vivid blue eyes locked on hers, reflecting so much gentle sincerity and truth that she felt like her heart would crack under the weight of it.
He spoke again, so softly she could barely hear the words.
"I'm here for you, Emma. And I am not going anywhere."
Before she could mentally process the depth of what he'd just promised her, he bent down, softly brushing his lips against hers. Emma's heart fluttered in her chest, battering against her like a caged bird. She knew she should be pushing him away, breaking the contact, but she was somehow unable and unwilling to move herself to do it. Without a second thought she let her eyes slide shut, surrendering herself to his kiss. She allowed herself to be swept up in it, breathing in the scent of him, recognizing the lingering tang of salt sea, leather, and rum mingled with an essence that was all his own…simply Killian.
His kiss was feather light on her lips, tender, soft, brief, chaste, even. But it was searing in its promise. He was branding her with the knowledge of it, leaving her no room whatsoever to doubt him any longer. He pushed no boundaries, made no attempt to open her up to him and deepen the kiss beyond the gentle press of his lips. He didn't touch her or move closer. He simply kissed her, leaving her enough space to pull away if she so desired… but she didn't.
No one had ever understood her need for this; the need for time, for space, to be able to make her own move when she needed to; the need to have an avenue of escape if she felt she needed one. But he somehow understood it and provided it for her without a second thought. His silent acceptance of those insecurities sent a sting of unshed tears to Emma's eyes and she fought it back, unwilling to let the moment be ruined by a bout of ridiculous crying.
He ended the kiss just as tenderly as he'd begun it, pulling back slowly, letting his lips linger on hers before breaking the contact. He moved his head to the side as he retreated, intentionally brushing the tip of her nose with his own. It was a gesture so sweet and innocent it shocked her coming from him, but it still somehow felt right.
He moved away from her a few inches and waited for her to open her eyes. He didn't touch her, didn't try to force her to look at him. Not rushing, just… waiting. His steady breathing and her beating heart the only sounds in the stillness of the forest around them.
Finally Emma opened her eyes, meeting the full force of his ocean blue ones. She blinked up at him, stunned at what had just happened, trying to fathom the depths of emotion still shining out from his eyes. It occurred to her suddenly that this step was a milestone for him as well as it was for her. For once he was letting her read him like a book.
He waited until she glanced away before he moved farther back, smiling gently down at her.
"You take your time, darling," he murmured, beginning to take a few small steps backward. "But know this…No matter how long it takes, I'll still be waiting. I'll not be leaving you behind."
Hook turned, moving slowly farther away from her in the direction of the beach and her family.
Emma sucked in a deep breath as she watched him go. It was like he'd taken all of her air with him. She suddenly felt like she needed him near her to even to breathe.
She hesitated a moment, trying to come to terms with the whole last fifteen minutes of her life. What the hell just happened, exactly?
Emma shook her head trying to clear it. She realized he was almost out of sight amongst the trees and called out to him just before he disappeared completely into the darkness.
"Hook wait…"
He stopped, turning to look expectantly at her over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised in question.
Emma moved forward, stopping a few feet from him, weighing her options, testing her resolve. A heartbeat later she raised her head and looked him straight in the eye, speaking his real name for the first time since the battle on the cliffs that afternoon.
"Killian, I… I think I may have strayed away a little farther than I intended to."
She waited, letting him see that she wasn't just referring to her venture out into the forest tonight. Although if she was being perfectly honest, she had wandered quite a bit farther out than she'd intended to.
Killian blinked down at her, understanding the duality of her message but not quite comprehending the meaning of it.
"What is it that you're saying exactly, love?"
Emma cocked her head to one side and spoke softly, letting some of the closeness she was beginning to feel in her heart seep out in her words.
"I'm saying I might need a little help finding the way back, if you're willing to take the time."
She waited, letting the words she had spoken tell him more than she could outright. The slow smile that spread across his face made her heart skip a beat, and he held out his hand for her.
"I'm willing to take all the time in the world. That's what I'm here for. Shall we?"
She hesitated a moment, looking down at his outstretched hand, remembering with some regret the last time he'd held it out for her and how quickly she'd run away from it, fearing what it would mean if she'd accepted it. At last she placed her hand firmly in his, returning his smile with a smaller one of her own.
Without another word, Killian closed his hand around hers, his rough palm warm and comforting in the dark. Then he turned back toward the beach, guiding her along beside him in comfortable silence.
This was still going to take a lot of time to work up to, Emma thought. But she knew as she walked along beside Killian Jones with her hand in his that time was something he would always be willing to give her. The walls she'd built up for so long wouldn't go down easy. But maybe, if she couldn't take them down tonight, perhaps she could leave a door open for him.
~Finis