Barely Breathing
Stop it. Stop looking at her. You're giving Pan exactly what he wants. She sees you. She's distracted by you. She doesn't care. Killian followed closely behind Emma and Bae-Neal- beside David, Snow behind them, on their way to Tinkerbell. They were so close, skin brushing as they walked, fingers only millimeters from being intertwined. Why must they be so close? Killian would've bet that Neal could touch her soft, satin-like hair and that he could smell the tropical scent that had enveloped her since they arrived in Neverland. He tried his best to keep his gaze trained on the ground, but his cerulean eyes refused his common sense and kept flitting back up to the blonde and her love. He remembered in the cave, having to take a deep breath and steel himself before making his confession. He was in love. With the beautiful, determined, smart, tragic, infuriating person that was Emma Swan. It was amazing that even when his heart had become so broken and shattered that he thought he could only fix it by doing the same to the Crocodile and then becoming hollow and empty inside, she broke through the haze of red that had been his vision for 3 lifetimes, bringing him out into glorious, stunning color.
David was right. Everything he'd been doing, he was doing for Emma. Because when Killian Jones loves someone, he will do anything, anything for them, no matter the cost. And bloody hell he loved her. He loved her like hope, like burning fiery, ardent, unrelenting passion that was at the same time calm, gentle, certain, and soft. He looked at Emma and remembered every genuine smile she'd ever given him, treasured more than gold, the way her eyes sparked with hope and love when she spoke of Henry, a sight that warmed him to the core, her quips and banter, never dull and always revealing, the way she walked, with the stoic and guarded confidence of someone who'd seen far too much of the world and didn't care what it had to throw at her next, and so many other things. He loved each of these bits about her, but they weren't why he loved her. He couldn't place a why on his love for Emma, but he knew vehemently that he did, and that he couldn't breathe if something happened to her.
He couldn't breathe when she was lying on his deck, motionless and pale. He couldn't even move, only watch as if from a distance, feeling every part of him swell with pain. 'Twould of been simpler if he'd been tortured beyond hope of recovery. But then she shuddered, and gasped, and opened her eyes, and his lungs worked again. He gulped in the air like a gourmet meal then, because Emma was alright. And as long as Emma was okay, Killian knew that he would be too.
Then, as he told Emma how he felt, he knew he was hurting her. He knew he was breaking through to that delicate spot where his Swan's beautiful, broken heart was and distracting it more. She needed to focus on Henry, on her lad, and Killian knew his love would only get in the way, whether or not she had any semblance of caring for him. He'd wanted to apologize, to say he was sorry for loving her, sorry for pulling her away from Henry. But before she came into his life he'd been filled with empty darkness, and then suddenly she burst in like an inferno of light. She burned away the evil in him. It hurt, but in a soothing way, until all that was left was a man of honor. Honor and so many other things and love. But when she looked back at him before running to her Neal, he could see how conflicted open-book Emma was. And his breathing became forced, choked out because his lungs wouldn't seem to function. Of course, before he could think came the heartfelt reunion. When the bars of Pan's cage faded away and Neal immediately embraced Emma, Killian's heart leapt to his throat. He'd felt so many emotions in that moment and the next outside of the cave, so many that were so hard to process.
Burning, adrenalizing jealously and anger. He abandoned her. She deserves better. Self-doubt and loathing. But then again, how am I any better? Just a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem. Deep regret and chagrin. I'm sorry, Emma. I've only made things worse for you and the search for your lad. And Love. But it could in no way compare to the way his breath hitched in those very moments. The hope. His flame of hope, that was Emma Swan, of a future, another chance at love, a happy ending, was extinguished as if by the very winds that blew in Captain Hook's cold heart.
But then Killian tried again.
He could breathe. Just barely, he could take in air, and then let it out again. He could keep going. After all, it wasn't about him. It was never about him. It was about Emma. If it was about him he'd never even have gone back to Storybrooke. If she could breathe, if she could be happy, if she could have someone who she loved and who loved her as deeply and selflessly and genuinely and truly as he did, then he could breathe.
If just barely.
And for Killian Jones, who had gone so long without hope, that was enough.
So 3x06 made me feel so many things, especially in relation to Killian and Captain Swan. Also Snowing, but that's for another painful one-shot. And I thought that I'd take a look at the whole mess through Killian's eyes. I hope you enjoyed. Please favorite and/or review. You're welcome to follow as well but it might be a bit redundant as this is a one-shot. Again thanks, and feel free to check my other stuff out if you liked this!