just give me a moment [and that can be arranged]
A large, hot rock was all that separated her from the scene falling into place below her. Hades' laughter boomed off the great, black walls that spanned the entire cavern; etchings in red, ugly lettering marked entrances and exits that no doubt led to other, even worse chambers of the Underworld. But as she watched Hades stalk, shouting, around three headstones, she didn't think it could get much worse.
Killian sat at the base of a charred clock, legs sprawled out in front of him. Even from this distance, Emma could see his pain by the set line of his jaw, the stiffness in his shoulders. Her pirate was still fighting, and tears burned her raw eyes even as a bubble of laughter simmered in her chest. He was so, so close.
She watched as his wrist flicked outward from where it had lain limply on the ground, and something metal skittered across the floor. A sword?
No. A chisel.
The pieces fell into place then, and she understood suddenly what the two men were discussing, or rather what Hades was excited about. He was forcing Killian to pick whose names would be chiseled onto the headstones. Those that he picked would be forced to remain in the Underworld.
Hades' words echoed through her, the bite of terror awakening in her veins. It's not what I've already done to him… it's what I'm going to do to him that you should worry about.
Emma's breath stole away from her in a quick huff. Of course Killian wouldn't obey. He was no longer a villain, no longer a Dark One. He loved her, just as she loved him.
All sins can be forgiven when someone loves you, Swan. I love you. I forgive you.
Her heart pounded. She would have gladly crushed Hades' throat right then and there, but he was immortal. He couldn't be slain by her hand, no matter how powerful her magic may be. But killing the Lord of Death had not been her goal, not when she'd stolen the bottle of squid ink from Gold's shop. No matter. She would never kill another again. Even if they deserved it.
So she waited. And waited.
Hades' snarling, hyena-like laugh ricocheted off the walls again and she grit her teeth as the sound ripped through her ears. But that wasn't what spurred her forward and around her lookout rock.
It was how forcefully Hades, bending down to Killian's nearly prostrate position on the ground, shoved a hand into his hair and yanked upwards.
Hades laughing at the pain he caused.
Killian crying out as he was pulled to his feet and forced to limp to the edge of the swirling green River of Lost Souls.
Emma's eyes flashed, and she pulled the cork from the inky bottle as she crept forward until she was below the clock where Killian once sat. The ground at her feet was splattered with his blood.
She was close enough now to hear the one-sided conversation between god and man. Idly she wondered how sensitive Death's ears were. Or if he ever shut up.
It didn't matter – she saw only Killian's pain, heard his sharp, wheezed intakes of breath as they stood, nearly at the edge. His shoulders were shaking underneath Hades' arm that was playfully tossed over them, as if they were the best of friends.
Hades was too caught up in his act of torturing the love of her life to notice her slow, silent approach behind him, a viper biding her time in the grass, waiting for the chance to strike.
"All I asked was that you pick three of your friends to stay here with me," Hades said, shoving Killian hard enough that he fell to his knees along the shore of the river. "But I realize now that's obviously too difficult a task for a one-handed pirate. With a drinking problem, I might add. Wouldn't you just love to know who I got that one from?"
The acid – no, the disgust – in his voice shook Emma to her core.
It was time to end this.
She took a steadying breath. Her feet propelled her forward, and she dumped the vial's contents down the back of Hades' neck, onto the exposed skin at his collar before he could even register the footsteps falling behind him. The paralysis took effect immediately; she knew by the string of curses and black oaths that fell from Death's vile lips and the blue fire that sputtered atop his head.
She refused to even look at the bastard that had caused her and her loved ones so much pain. Instead, she twisted around him and fell to Killian's side.
He'd barely whispered her name before they were transported away in a puff of white smoke, Hades' screams a backdrop of sound behind them.
The captain's quarters aboard the Jolly Roger were the exactly how she remembered them – the faint scents of clean paint, leather, and salty wood still tinged the air. It was as if they had returned to their own world, where the sky was not colored an angry red and there were not souls thriving on the purpose of stealing hers.
The only difference was that now its captain knelt bruised, bloodied, and shivering against the wall.
"Killian?" she ventured softly, settling beside him once again, her hand coming up to brush the sticky hair from his eyes. A long gash sliced the upper part of his forehead, and his right eye was swollen shut. But the remaining one – soothing and calming and the same shade as sparkling water – gazed at her as if it would never be able to do so again.
"You found me," he rasped, swallowed hard, stifled a shudder.
Emma felt her mouth curving up in the most genuine smile she'd been able to muster since the darkness left them both. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, we did." She would have laughed in relief, but then she noticed the haze of pain cloud his features. He swallowed again, his chest stuttering on a rough breath. There were dark shadows underneath his eyes, and blood was smeared on nearly every visible inch of his skin.
She knew what she had to do, and pressed a quick, gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, and he weakly grabbed a fistful of her jacket.
Everywhere her lips could reach she kissed, kissing away the agony, the pain, the darkness that stubbornly clung to him. Everywhere she could touch she healed, her magic falling down upon his injured body in waves, until all that was left were his bruised ribs and broken leg. She sent the feather-light touches of her power along his chest and down his thigh, felt the bones slowly mending, the pieces shifting against each other like pieces of a puzzle.
She knew he was feeling more like himself when he was able to pull her closer without the slightest of winces. His lips found hers and bright flames licked up her spine, the heat so different from that of the Underworld. Sparks of light danced through her veins. She only knew that she wanted more, more of him, more of his beauty and fullness of heart. She wanted to feel his arms around her for the rest of her life, the rough stubble along his jaw bristling over her skin. She wanted him, everywhere, all over, forever.
It took her a while to convince him to move to the bed so that he could rest. For all the magic she had, she could not erase the weariness of his soul, the uneasiness of his mind. A different type of suffering rested heavily in his eyes, and it scared her. She'd only glimpsed the torture Hades had pressed upon him, had only seen Cerberus' claws and eyes, for a few short seconds.
But she knew all about the pain wrought by being in the Underworld itself, and sought to kiss away every prickle of hurt that haunted him.
"Come to bed," she whispered, rising, pulling gently at his hand for a moment before he followed suit.
He clucked his tongue and gave a toothy grin, pressing himself against her. "Only if you join me, Swan." His familiar warmth wrapped her in its arms, and she surrendered to it – but only for a moment. She found that she couldn't take her eyes off the dimples in his cheeks, and could deny him nothing.
"That can be arranged, Captain."