Author's Note: I know that by this evening all will be revealed (how about that preview for tonight's episode?) but I couldn't help taking my own fictional guess at how the long-awaited moment might come about. Send me a comment once you've read this, and you will absolutely make my day!
(The lyrics included are from the Backstreet Boys' song "Take Care", which doesn't belong to me any more than "Once Upon a Time" or any of its characters do.)
"Let Yourself Believe"
By: TutorGirlml
He can't help watching her as they tramp on through this sweltering, never-ending maze of jungle. His eyes have been drawn to Emma Swan like a beacon from the very moment he caught his first glimpse of her slim, deceptively pliant-looking form and radiant waves of blonde hair.
Now though, it is nearly painful to study her, even if he still cannot look away. This ravenous, living island seems to be draining her dry. The color leeches from her cheeks with each new disappointment or setback they suffer, her forehead constantly bears a crease of worry that does not ease, and her shoulders seem to slump more all the time under the weight of her fear and worry for Henry, as if pushing her into the ground. She curls into herself in order to manage the strain, not letting anyone else offer her support.
She has been a fiery, dauntless warrior for as long as he has known her, but Neverland is a horrid place, somehow able to divine what one most fears and feed on that weakness. Emma had so little real time to live with her boy as if he were truly her own before having him ripped from her again. The sounds of lost children crying in the night, the savage elements that she fears Henry is alone in and exposed to, and Pan's taunts that her son has not forgiven her and will not want to see she when they do find him, are all taking their toll on the brilliant, brave lass he has come to care for.
If he knew what to do to restore her faith and give her strength, he would do it without hesitation. His true fear though is that her faith began to be stripped from her long ago, piece by piece, with each loss and betrayal she suffered alone in that other world. She has held up her façade for a long, long time, but this place and the loss of her son, is letting cracks show through the beautiful, assured veneer that she no longer has the strength to keep in place.
Since she will not accept comfort or aid however, he simply keeps following behind her through the undergrowth, occasionally warning of hidden dangers or offering suggestions when his previous knowledge can be of help. He backs her up unfailing if any of the others question her decisions and silently tries to pass on any ounce of strength he possesses, aching to see that certain pixie-ish light he has come to adore return to her eyes when they land on him. He knows what it is like to live under a shadow – he has spent most of his days there – and it is agony to see her entering that dark half-life, just when she has given him a reason to step into the sun again.
"I, I've waited all my life
to step into the light
and see the shadows fading;
You, you've always stood so tall
I never thought you'd fall,
but now it's you that's fading…"
Then, everything falls apart at once, and all hell breaks loose. They are slogging through rain-slicked terrain in a continuous downpour, feet sliding and sinking into the mud, when David slips, loses his footing, and goes down. It would normally be nothing, but the Prince lands on the side he has been favoring, which is growing more tender and poison-laced all the time, and stretches the gash, drawing a loud shout of pain from the proud royal's lips before he can bite it back.
David tries to scramble quickly to his feet before anyone else can get to him, but Killian gives Snow credit – she's quick – and she is kneeling at her husband's side before he can recover himself. The Prince's strength is slowly being sapped from him and his reflexes are slow, and the Princess has already suspected that he is keeping something from her, so this time she does not suffer being brushed aside. Her nimble fingers have pulled his shirt up to reveal the black tendrils of poison inexorably moving across his torso from the original wound. Snow's gasp of horror and shock silences the rest of them, and their little group comes to a motionless halt in the muck and pouring rain.
Killian feels his eyes fly to meet Emma's, Snow's teary voice begging David to explain why he has kept this from her fading away from his hearing as he focuses on what this is doing to their daughter. Her eyes, always open to him for the reading, seize him up in the hurt that floods her, causing him to wince as if the knife blade slicing across her soul has cut into his own. He knows immediately that he should never have agreed to keep Charming's secret from her, no matter how noble the blasted royal's intentions had been. It is clear from the way Emma's gaze moves from pulling him in to shutting him out that she knows he has kept this from her. She turns away, offering him her back and causing his blood to run cold.
Then, suddenly, she whirls around, eyes on fire with a look that could scorch, grabs his forearm in a grip tight enough to bruise, and drags him away from the others, off the path and into the brush, out of sight. Killian wants to give the expected flirtatious comment, lighten the mood somehow with a jest about how she needn't get rough, all she has to do is ask, but all his clever words seem to stick in his throat. She has been injured by his silence and the fact that her father may be dying, and now she has a genuine reason to mistrust him again.
Emma spins on her heel to face him, swipe her sopping wet hair from her eyes, and then strikes him hard with her palm against his cheek, the smack loud as the crack of a gunshot in the interminable silence between them. It doesn't hurt Killian as much as it startles him, but he rears back in surprise and then catches her wrist in his good hand before she can strike him again.
Her voice is all angry venom when she speaks, jerking her hand out of his grasp and staring him down. "You knew he was poisoned, and you kept it from me. How could you, Hook?!" she hisses. It is only because he has studied those lovely green orbs so often that he can see the unshed tears she tries to hide welling up, and the slight quivering of her bottom lip.
He has no words to explain himself; Killian only knows that he cannot bear her hatred if this turns her from him, and he cannot stand to see her in anymore pain than she already is. He pitches his voice low, aching, pleading with her to understand. "I wasn't my secret to tell," he tries, knowing as he offers this that it isn't enough, but not sure if his other, truer reason for keeping quiet will only hurt her more.
"You know better than that," she bites out in a measured voice, still simmering but slowly regaining calm. All he can think for a second is that at least she has turned to face him again, and has not left him standing here alone.
"Aye, Lass, I do, but…" he trails off, bowing his head for a moment and gathering his strength to face her. Looking up from under heavy, dark lashes, he starts again, knowing that he has to be honest with her now. "It was not my intention to mislead you, Emma. I thought we would cure him with the pixie dust and he would recover. Forgive me for wishing to stop one more tragedy from weighing on your mind. It pains me to see you burdened, and it seemed as if we might be able to spare you this."
"I can handle things just fine! You don't need to treat me like I'll break," she snaps, even if sad resignation takes some of the anger from her words.
This time, it is Killian who feels his hurt and irritation break free. "Must you always be so hard headed? Accept that your parents – and I – care for you, and deal with the fact that when people care, they want to make things better! Instead of taking everything as an attack, try to see that I hoped to protect you!" His eyes narrow, angry both at her for making him feel this affection and vulnerability in the first place, and at himself for letting it slip and engaging in this losing battle. "You have been through so much, Love. I only wished to take some of the weight from your shoulders…"
He does not know what part of his confession does it, but like sunlight breaking through clouds, her face changes and her eyes soften. She takes a step closer, her mouth opening slightly in disbelief, and drawing in a shaky, sniffling breath, and then, before either of them can say more and break the spell that has fallen, she reaches out, grabs the lapels of his long coat and pulls him forward, crashing her lips up into his.
"I know that inside you're delicate
Though you say that you don't need
Someone to take care of you
I'll take care, I'll take care of you…"
Kissing her is rapturous, sweeping him up in a flashflood of emotion lost to him for ages, and he is almost overcome by the wave of sensation and feeling. It is as if his whole world had faded into black and white over the years and he had forgotten that there could be more, but then, as Emma opens her mouth a bit, welcoming him in as they both dive deeper into the kiss, all the colors explode behind his eyes, brightening his world once more.
Her fingers creep up from where they were clutching the leather of his collar and delve into his black hair. Tingles run all over his scalp and down his spine at the sensation of her touch at his nape. A guttural moan rumbles from his chest and escapes into her mouth unbidden. He is embarrassed to realize that she has reduced his knees to rubbery mush with a mere kiss and that he is shivering as she continues to devour him hungrily.
Backing up until he is able to half-support himself against a tree, he takes on more of her weight. Emma leans in, wrapping one leg around him, as if she wishes to crawl into his very being and vanish. "Emma love, easy," he tries to breathe out when she pauses a moment for air. "If you carry on like this, I do not know if I can –"
But her lips cut him off as she renews her onslaught, tangling her tongue with his, holding him to her with one hand cradling the back of his head, keeping him where she wants him, while the other skims under his wet shirt and along his collarbone up over his shoulder. She is insatiable, as if she has been starving herself for too long, and now that she has him, she will not let go until she has had her fill.
Finally, Killian manages to pull away just far enough to look into her eyes, searching to see if she is alright, if this is what she truly wants, if she is aware that it is him she is kissing; she seems so swept up in the moment that he has to make sure. "Darling, I always knew you had it in you," he murmurs, his eyes glinting. He lovingly brushes his hand up her cheek, over her forehead, swiping back a tendril of her hair and then following its path to trace along the shell of her ear. He means to worship her while he has the chance, to give her as much comfort and adoration as he can express while she is open and allowing it. "You're incredible, Lass," he leans in to whisper into her ear, and then places feather-light kisses in a path up her jaw, then to her brow, then to her eyelids as they flutter closed. She lets a shuddering sigh escape, and he feels her go limp in his arms. She is trembling as his good hand strokes up and down her side.
He bends, kissing lower on her neck, and then lifting her hand to kiss each fingertip, taking his time, never wanting this sublime moment to end, but knowing he will have to let her go all too soon. It is only when he moves to return his mouth to her lips that he sees pain rejoining the pleasure on her face. Silent tears trickle from her eyes, and for a moment fear strikes him in the heart, thinking that he has hurt her or done something wrong. "What is it, Love?" he coaxes, pulling her into his chest and encircling her in his arms, rubbing her back soothingly.
She shakes her head wordlessly against him, as he feels voiceless sobs begin to wrack her small frame. Killian is at first surprised when she doesn't push him away and attempt to run. He wishes he could do more, but he is grateful for once that she is letting what she feels out, and that she is allowing him to hold her. He rocks her slightly from side to side in his embrace, planting a kiss to the top of her head and crooning soothing, nonsense endearments to her under his breath. She had to break sometime, and he hopes at least now she sees that he will take a share of the burden on himself and be there for her for as long as she will let him.
"…I won't tell a soul if you cry,
I can hold you while you cry, you know
I know that inside you're delicate
Though you say that you don't need
Someone to take care of you,
I'll take care of you…"
Her tears finally start to slow at the same time that the wind and rain which have been lashing all around them begin to die down. Emma slowly steps back from the circle of his arms, glancing up sheepishly with a watery smile, and Killian can see her trying to put her defenses back in place. It plucks painfully at his heartstrings that she is already trying to put distance between herself this moment they have shared, and he desperately clasps her hand, pulling her back in and tilting her face up to meet his with the curve of his hook under her chin. "Wait…stay…" he implores. "That might have gone too far, but don't run from me again…"
She shakes her head rapidly, interrupting him with gentle fingers to his lips. "No, it isn't that. This – you – it was…" her eyelashes flutter as she searches for the right word, "…incredible," she finally breathes. "But, how can I be doing this now? Henry's still out there…and David…" she trails off brokenly, "And here I am, standing here making out in the rain! What kind of selfish person does that?!"
"Hush, Lass, stop," he soothes, unable to resist reaching out to trace the cool metal of his hook along the side of her face. She has grown heated and flushed, and he hopes it is soothing. "You have done nothing but try to save Henry and lead your family since you arrived here. You are punishing yourself for nothing if you condemn taking a moment to gather your strength and regain your bearings. Let someone take care of you for a moment. Your mother will be tending to your father right now; no one is going any farther in this mess tonight. Your father will live, and we will get Henry back. We will find a way. Emma, I swear it on my honor."
She shakes her head in disbelief, gazing at him as if he might be a mirage that will disappear before her very eyes. Unthinkingly, she brings up a hand to mirror his previous action and trace along the side of his face. He closes his eyes, savoring her gentle touch. "Thank you…Killian," she whispers; his true, given name on her lips warming him more than anything else she could have said and bringing a grateful smile to his face.
"No, Love, thank you…for letting me be here for you."
She lowers her eyes, blushing prettily, and he draws her in once more, wanting her close for as long as possible. He knows that soon they will be back with the others, they will return to their search, and Emma will continue being his driven, tough Swan. He will treasure one more second where he can ghost kisses over her skin. At least when they march on, she may lean on him when she nears her breaking point, may take his hand in unguarded moments when she needs a touch of reassurance, and she can trust that he will be there, no questions asked and without saying a word that lets anyone else know. It has been so long since he has taken care of anyone who cares for him as well. Given this chance, he will be by her side until her boy is once again in her arms and they can leave this miserable island. He will see her through this and make her a believer in her own happy ending. For a woman like Emma, even a pirate like him can be a hero.