A/N: So. . .just a quick warning: This does NOT have a happy ending. To be honest, there really isn't much a relationship between Killian and Emma in this one at all. It's a darker take on Once Upon A Time, focusing on what would have happened if Killian had killed Gold and become the Dark One. I want to say this takes place during S2, when Emma wasn't sure of her feelings for him. So there's the time. I hope you enjoy it!
His skin looked pale, which was strange because he had naturally tan skin. But he looked sick. His eyes were wide with fear but there was a fierce triumph glittering in them, proud of what he'd finally done. He was proud, and it made Emma feel bile rising up in her throat, threatening to make her double over right there in the street and throw up. This was Hook, the man who'd flirted with her carelessly and who she felt strangely connected to on the most dangerous level. But this. . .this was not her Hook. This was a man who had let three hundred years of grief and sorrow consume him, giving way to bitterness and anger at the world. This was a man who was about to turn into a monster.
Emma stared down at the wickedly sharp dagger that had clattered to the ground, forcing herself to look at the name she knew she'd find.
Killian Jones.
The feeling of repulsion came back and Emma actually gagged.
"Swan?"
Emma looked back at Hook, who was staring at Mr. Gold's still body.
The screams had started at eleven o'clock exactly. Emma heard them from her station and not even a second later was she getting a call from Belle, saying that someone had been attacking Gold's shop and he was after him, hellbent on attacking him and finishing off his life once and for all. Immediately, Emma knew what was happening and tore out of the station, throwing on her leather jacket as she went. She didn't even bother getting in her car, the shop wasn't that far after all. Looking back on it now, Emma wished she had taken her car. She might have been able to prevent Hook from driving Gold's dagger into his chest with a pained expression on his face.
Well, Emma thought to herself, there's no need to think about that any longer. What's done is done.
Belle was in Gold's shop, and Emma could hear the distant sounds of her sobs inside.
Her heart went out to her, truly, despite the horrible things her true love had done.
"It's done," Emma told him, standing up from her crouched position and brushed off the dirt from her jeans. "Congratulations. You've finally done it." Her words were executed with a very strong dose of venom, disgust evident in her voice and fear lacing the words. She may have spoken her words with confidence, but he was now the Dark One and that thought was not lost on Emma. If she said the wrong thing, he could kill her with a flick of his wrist if he so wished. Hopefully, his affection for her, if you could even call it that, would be enough to spare her and her family.
"Aye," Hook said, his voice low and monotone.
"Well, aren't you proud of yourself?" Emma said, her voice taking on a shrill tone, panic starting to creep in. Sirens were beginning to blare and Emma knew that David would be coming within moments. "Don't you feel like you deserve a pat on the back? A pint of rum? A good fuck from a whore in a tavern?"
Hook's eyes held their own torture to them, but Emma couldn't bring herself to look at them. She didn't know what kind of monster he'd turn into soon, and she definitely knew she didn't want to know. A cop car was coming down the main road, and the bright red and blue lights were flashing directly at Emma and Hook. Hook didn't even seem to care. Emma thought it was probably because he now held literally all the power in the world. If he wanted to, he could probably cause the car to run straight into the nearest building. But instead of doing any of that, he just jerked his chin towards the dagger that was still laying in the middle of the street. It was sitting right between them, and for something so small, it drove a wedge between them that rose up hundreds of feet high.
"Take it."
Emma's breath left her lungs. "What?"
"Take it. I don't want it. Just do with it what you will."
She cautiously reached out, waiting for him to grab her around the throat or take her heart out of her chest. He did no such thing. All he did was follow her slow and wary movements toward the dagger with his eyes. When her hand was just centimeters from the dagger, she snatched it up quickly and held it behind her back, backing up from him. The cop car finally pulled up to them and skidded to a stop. Not even a second later, David was stumbling out of the car and speeding towards Emma, making sure she was okay before anything else.
And then his eyes fell on Gold's body, and then they traveled to Hook sitting on the ground, breathing heavily. And then, they moved right over to Emma, standing there next to him with the dagger in her hands.
Emma took a deep and shaky breath before speaking to David with her eyes locked on Hook's. "Take him to the station," she instructed.
"But. . ."
Emma held up the dagger, twirling it between her hands carefully. "I don't think he's going to be causing us any problems," Emma told David, a sad note tinging her voice as she walked away from them and slid into the passenger seat of the cop car.
. . .
Three weeks later and he didn't seem to have changed.
He was still just as snarky, arrogant, and insufferable as ever. Even locked in a jail cell he was cocky enough to tease her, mock her; hell, he even tempted her at some points. Even with David right there! The nerve of him!
Emma tried her best to ignore him, thinking instead of the dagger he'd basically handed over to her willingly that she was currently keeping locked up in a safe in her room.
The town had more or less gone back to normal since the death of Mr. Gold. He had been a menace, a horror, a fucking shark, but he had one good thing about him. Belle. And now, she spent her days in his shop alone, cleaning out the various items he had put there to sell and putting them into boxes. A 'FOR SALE' sign now hung outside the door, waiting for someone to claim the small place for their own and do with it what they wished.
The funeral had been a quiet and short affair. No one spoke for him. No one cried. Belle only sat there, sitting on her knees in a plain black dress with no makeup on and messy hair, her face as still as stone.
When Emma returned from the funeral, exhausted and feeling a deep sorrow, not for the man lost for the woman who had lost him, Hook had been lounging on his bed in the cell. He asked her how the funeral was with a strangely giddy tone that also managed to sound mournful at the same time. Emma didn't answer, only because she didn't know how to when his voice was so strange. She liked to think that he, too, felt some kind of remorse for Belle and what she must be going through right now. But this was Hook, after all. Emma doubted it.
Right now, she was sitting at her desk, her legs propped up on the surface as she ate a tuna sandwich and drank a cup of coffee for her dinner. Thank God her shift was almost over. Hook was currently watching her from his cell, his eyes following her every move with rapt attention. It unnerved her, how attuned to her he was. His very presence made her feel jittery and nervous, but she couldn't very well let him go. She couldn't do that to Belle, and she couldn't do that to the town. Despite having the dagger in her possession and not having told anyone of its current location, not even David, Mary Margaret, or Henry, she didn't feel anywhere close to safe when Hook was in the picture. And he'd be in the picture for a long time if she and David had anything to say about it.
"Hey, Swan," Hook called out to her from his cell.
Emma looked up from her sandwich. "What?" she answered a bit rudely. Even she could hear it in her voice.
"How long am I going to be in here? After all, you have my dagger."
His dagger. The words sent an icy shiver down Emma's spine, but she ignored it, sighing heavily. "I don't know."
She got up and left him sitting alone, flipping off the lights as she went and locking the station's door behind her.