Unexpectedly Suicidal
Plot summary: Through questioning involved parties about the roadside incident, Emma realizes that Hook tried to die.
I saw the questions/thoughts about Killian killing himself on the Captain Swan tag on tumblr, and queries about Emma's reaction should she find out. This happened as a result.
Unbeta-d, as I don't have one. Just enjoy.
"What do you mean he wanted to die?" Emma, inquired, trying in vain to still her heart. She had a difficult time believing the stranger. While she wasn't particularly fond of the flirty, frustrating pirate traitor, she didn't want him dead either. She leaned forward in the visitor's chair.
"I mean, he shot the woman, and then he asked the man to kill him. The man said—" The stranger broke off, eyes unexpectedly light, "And the man said he would deal him all kinds of pain, or something."
Emma looked surprised, "Gold said that?"
The man chuckled, "Not in so many words."
Emma nodded, filing that away for later. She would have to keep Gold away from the injured pirate. "And then?" she prompted.
The man's eyes widened "And then the man—Gold, you called him—was holding a flamethrower or something because there was a ball of flame, and he was going to set the Pirate on fire!"
Emma gritted her teeth. 'Subtle, Gold,' she thought, frustrated by this development, 'Real subtle. This guy's seen magic now, and we'll have to deal with that.'
She pushed him for more, "And after the… flame?"
The stranger swallowed, his eyes meeting hers. "The pirate stood tall, with his arms wide opened, and welcomed it."
Emma stared. "Welcomed it?"
"Yeah," the stranger replied, "Like he wanted to die."
She nodded woodenly, standing suddenly. "Thank you for your time."
"Wait—" the stranger said, but she swept out of the room before he could continue.
She needed to talk to Hook.
"Want to tell me why you're unexpectedly suicidal?" She asked, leaning against the doorway and schooling her features into an 'I'm-less-concerned-than-I-really-am' expression. Whatever that looks like.
"Why, hello Princess," he replied, blinking innocently up at her, "And how are you this fine day?"
She rolled her eyes and repeated the question, walking into the room and crossing her arms over her chest.
He gave her a lopsided smile she had never seen before, "Unexpectedly, lass?" he chuckled hollowly, eyes moving from over her shoulder to stare straight through her mask—like always. "Don't play unconcerned and don't pretend like you didn't see this coming," he said, wincing as he shifted in the hospital bed, "I told you—open book."
She stopped beside his bed. "I am unconcerned. You throwing yourself at cars doesn't concern me." She shifted, ignoring the niggling feeling that, yes, it did, and no, she was not in any way alright with him trying to kill himself. She frowned, leaning close, "And how can you know that I saw this coming?"
He aches to trace the furrows in her brow with the fingertips of his hand, but he resisted.
And everything hurt like hell anyway.
His smile faded, and she saw something in his eyes that she couldn't classify.
"Because you've been vengeful before, lass," he replied, voice low and throbbing with anger.
She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head, grimacing, adding "Don't say you haven't, I see it in your eyes often. Especially when you're around me." He laughed ruefully, pulling a face as his chest ached in response, "I must remind you of the bloody great idiot who abandoned you."
Emma swallowed. "Stop it."
"And that's why you left me on that beanstalk," he continued, "Because you knew where that road would lead me and you thought that I would also abandon you, for my vengeance, and you believed that you had to act first."
Emma replied, "I still stand by that decision today," her defensive voice shaking, laced with hurt and frustration. How was it that he could see right through her?
He turned his face away, grunting in discomfort.
She swallowed, then added, softer, "But that doesn't mean I'm not sorry that I did it."
He twisted his neck around so quickly that he turned white with pain. She reached for him and he closed his eyes. Her hand hovered near his face, uncertain. She dropped it.
He opened his eyes. "Now, now, lass, don't you be giving me any ideas. We both know that you can't give me what I need and I can't give you what you need." He yawned loudly, his jaw cracking, making Emma wince.
She should go and let him get some sleep.
She pressed her lips together firmly. "Then why am I still here?"
His lopsided smile emerged again, and this one seemed sunnier. "Why, indeed." He murmured sluggishly, eyes closing.
She brushes her fingertips lightly over his knuckles and his hand twitches. A smile curled the tips of his lips, and his eyes crinkle in the corners.
She wonders when things changed so drastically.
He sleeps.