Breathe Me, Hear Me, Touch My Hand

A/N: In which Neal attacks Hook and Emma is thrown into emotional turmoil and forced to accept her feelings. All the events up to 2x17 have happened. This is what I want from a future episode.

There was a gracefulness about the way he fell and tumbled. As if the air was kissing him as the fell through it. There was nothing graceful however, about the way he crashed into the ground. His head smashing onto the hard concrete before anything else, his neck snapping up and then falling back down again. His limbs danced and tangled for a second or two before they also settled upon the ground. Then he didn't move at all. Emma could only barely see his chest rising and falling. Charming hasted to grab her but she slipped out of his reach, throwing herself in between Neal and Hook's lifeless body.

"Emma?" Neal questioned, lowering his bloody sword. His eyes flicked between Hook and her defensive position, an understanding washed over his face. "Emma," he repeated firmly, "You have to let me kill him. He tried to kill my Dad."

She shook her head, her whole body was shaking as she racked her brains for reasons. She couldn't let Hook die. "He only just walked back into Storybrooke, Neal. He was exhausted and you just came up behind him and stabbed him. You never gave him a chance to defend himself. "

"He never gave my father a chance to defend himself," Neal snapped, taking a step towards her, his sword raising again. It was a silent warning. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Charming move towards them cautiously.

"Please," she begged, "Revenge won't get you anything. Don't become your father." Neal physically recoiled from her as if her words were a sword slashed through his chest. His expression had changed, it was a painful mix of horror, fear and fury.

"You chose him? That scum?" Neal spat, his sword pointing at her heart, "I thought I was a bad enough choice but him?"

A protective anger bubbled in her chest, "He's not a coward. Unlike you." The sword clattered to the ground. Neal's face looked a pale green and tears had sprung in the corners of his eyes, he took shaky steps away from her before breaking into a sprint. Then he was gone.

Emma inhaled deeply and turned to her father, "Call the hospital. Tell them we have someone with a deep sword wound." Charming hesitated, looking between Hook and Emma but then after meeting his daughter's pleading gaze, nodded and took out his mobile.

Emma sat down, crossed legged at Hook's side and watched him for a moment. His lips were slightly parted, weak breaths escaping between them. Her eyes fell upon the growing pool of blood on his dark shirt and panic set in again. With shaking fingers she started to take off his newly acquired modern clothes (he must have needed them to blend in as he traveled from Manhattan to Storybrooke). Once his jacket was off she used the sword to carefully slice his shirt open. A small crowd had started to form, a buzz of questions forming within it.

Her heart ached as she saw his chest; scarlet blood had splattered and dripped across his pale body and at the epicenter of blood was an ugly wound she feared had reached his heart. "Hook?" she murmured, grabbing some of his shirt, ripping it and wrapping it around the wound. No response. She tied it tightly, tears gathering in her eyes as the memory of him attending her wound upon the beanstalk flashed in her mind. She grabbed his hand, "Hook, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand." In those following moments she stopped breathing until she felt a small amount of pressure on her hand. She fought back the sob moving up her throat, she was terrified he was going to be just like Graham.

"Hook, it's going to be alright. I'll make sure it is," she promised earnestly and maybe she imagined it but she thought she saw a shadow of a smile wash across his face.

When he woke up she was asleep. Her fingers laced in between his, her head leaning on the wall beside her, her hair across her face, her cheeks flushed and her lips formed a rosy 'o' as she breathed in and out. A smile sneaked across his mouth as he watched her and it grew as she mumbled his name in her sleep. He wanted to brush the hair out of her face but, as per usual, he was tied to the bed. He sighed and gently called her name, "Emma."

Her eyes fluttered open and as soon as she noticed him he watched as joy washed across her face before it was quickly wiped away. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly. She tried to withdraw her hand from his but with all the energy he could muster, he held her hand in place. A pink blush grew in her cheeks. She stared at their hands, her expression had at first been annoyance but now a timid mix of happiness and curiosity had settled there.

"I can't be sure. I only just woke up," he answered. "Sorry for waking you, I just wanted to hear your voice," he added afterwards. Her blush grew but she still managed to quirk her head and give the old, 'Really, Hook?' look. He smirked back, "I tell the truth, love."

"The doctors managed to stitch you back up again," she began telling him about his operation, explaining the modern technologies and how close to death he had been. During her explanation she had started to run her thumb along his hand. He wasn't sure if she was doing subconsciously or not so he pretended not to notice in case she stopped. "When I first saw you after the operation," she continued, "You were so pale and your breath was so weak… I was so sure you were going to die." Tears had glossed over her eyes but for her sake he acted like they weren't there.

"I would have never left without making sure I got a kiss from you," he joked, throwing her a wink.

"Not funny, Hook. Neal nearly succeeded in killing you." His expression grew sour and his grip on her hand tightened. "Please don't go after him," Emma begged, reading his mind.

"Why not? He tried to kill me, Emma. Don't you want him to pay for that?" he demanded.

She sighed, "He will pay for it, but leave that to me. You can't keep living your life like this, constantly trying to kill someone. You'll never be happy again."

"You have no idea what that Crocodile did to Milah," Hook growled.

She nibbled her lip, "Actually, I do. Henry has this book in which we can see everyone's stories and yours is in there. I know exactly what he did. Trust me, I hate him for he did but you can't keep doing this. You got your revenge, you took Belle from him and you nearly killed him."

"Key word there, love. Nearly." He eyes were dark and dangerous.

"Please. Please just stop this. Be the better man I know you are," Emma pleaded, her hand had started shaking. It startled him.

"Why are you shaking, Emma?"

"I'm scared," she whispered.

Horror filled him, "You don't have to be scared of me."

She let out a weak laugh, "No, no. I know that. I'm... I'm scared of losing you," He stared at her, utterly bewildered. "I can't lose you, Killian." His name was so soft her lips, the sound warmed his heart.

"Why?" he breathed.

A small smile tugged on her lips, "That's just it. I don't know. I'm drawn to you like no one else. I need you, I didn't want to but I do. I knew from as soon as you dropped the blacksmith act that I wouldn't be saying goodbye to you any time soon."

"I don't want you to say goodbye at all," he admitted. A single tear dropped down her cheek as she leaned towards him and placed a feathery kiss upon his lips. He could taste her salt tear upon her mouth. She pulled away.

"You should go to sleep, Killian," she said as settled back in her seat, "I'll be here when you wake up." He wasn't sure if she meant for today or for the rest of his life but he hoped it was the latter.

A/N: Did you notice the little bit of Flook at the beginning? ;) Hope you liked it! Please leave a review or else I have no idea if you liked it.