She was feeling numb.
In the twenty-nine years of her life she had been through a lot. Good things. Bad things.
Mainly bad things.
But during the last ten months her luck had finally turned and she had been something she never expected to be.
Happy.
And now everything was falling apart.
"Emma?"
She looked up, when she felt a hand on top of hers, and saw her friend Mary Margaret looking at her worriedly.
"How is he?"
Emma opened her mouth, trying to answer, but the words wouldn't come out. So she merely shook her head. Mary Margaret sat down next to her and laid an arm over her shoulders, pulling her close.
For a long moment they just sat there and Emma tried to find comfort in her friend's embrace. Finally Emma thought she was able to speak.
"How did you know…?" Her voice sounded strange in her own ears.
"David," Mary Margaret answered simply.
"Oh." Right. Her friend's husband. The sheriff and her boss, who had had her colleague Graham pick her up and drive her to the hospital. Of course he knew and would tell his wife.
"Did the doctor tell you anything?"
Emma swallowed. "He is in surgery. But they wouldn't say if…if…"
She turned her head and looked at her friend.
"Why? Why am I losing him after I only just found him?" She felt the tears burn in her eyes and blinked them back.
"Oh Emma," Mary Margaret said and held her tighter. "You're not gonna lose him. He'll fight to stay with you. You're just gonna have to have faith."
It was easy for her friend to say these words. She had always been the most optimistic person Emma had ever met and wouldn't give up hope for some minor miracle unless there really was no way it could happen. But Emma was the opposite of that. She knew that life wasn't some kind of fairy tale. Not everyone got their happy ending. Especially not her.
But for almost a year she had thought that maybe she would.
Emma had no idea how long they were sitting there in the waiting room. She barely noticed the people walking by or the silent conversations around her. None of it mattered anyway. Only when she heard a male voice say her name, she looked up.
"Miss Swan?"
Dr. Whale was standing in front of her, looking exhausted.
When Emma didn't seem to be able to say anything, Mary Margaret asked: "How is he?"
"Mr. Jones has lost a lot of blood and he is still unconscious. His heart stopped beating twice during surgery, but we managed to get him back. His head received quite the hit, but we can't examine the extent of the damage until he wakes up. We've focused on stabilizing him for now, but he'll need more surgery once his body had some rest."
"But he'll live?" Emma asked with a voice so quiet that she wasn't sure the doctor would hear her.
"For now we've done everything we can for him, Miss Swan, but I can't make any promises. We'll just have to wait how he gets through the next couple of hours before we can plan our next step."
"Can I see him?" Emma asked. She knew that Dr. Whale had given her already more information than he was supposed to, but she had to see him for herself. Had to see that he was still with her.
"Only family members or spouses…"
Emma looked at him with pleading eyes. "He doesn't have either. He only has me." And I only have him, she thought.
The doctor looked at her for a long moment, before he finally nodded.
"Swan, what do you say? Loser pays for the next round of drinks."
Emma smiled at him while lining up her next shot on the pool table. "I hope you brought your wallet."
Killian laughed. "Aren't you a confident lass," he replied and watched as she managed to sink two balls with one shot.
She looked up at him. "If you wanted a chance at winning you should have chosen a game I'm not good at."
"We'll see about that," he replied.
Killian couldn't help but watch her every move. The beautiful blonde in front of him had caught his attention almost the moment he had set foot into town two months earlier and not once had any other woman piqued his interest since then. Emma though seemed immune to his flirting, merely rolling her eyes if she bothered to react at all. But sometimes, when they were among their shared group of friends, he felt her gaze on him and when their eyes met, even for only a second, he had to wonder if the interest was mutual after all.
He had quickly discovered that she wasn't the kind of person who easily opened up. Even now he barely knew anything about her past. That didn't mean that he didn't know her though. There was something painfully familiar about the guarded exterior she liked to show. He knew that she didn't have an easy life prior to moving to Storybrooke. But neither did he. The loss and grief far outweighed the love and joy and at times it had been difficult to find a reason to go on.
It had been Graham who had convinced him that he needed a change of scenery and seeing that there had been nothing to keep him in Boston, Killian had made the spur of the moment decision to pack his things and move into this small town. He had met his friend's colleague the next morning and once his blue eyes met her green ones he had known that it was the right decision.
Emma managed to sink two more balls before she missed a shot and handed over the cue.
"Let me see what you have to offer, Jones," she said and picked up her beer.
"If you're really that curious, Swan, we could just go somewhere a little more private," he answered and laughed, while she was shaking her head. But he didn't miss the little smile on her lips.
They continued their game and in the end it was Emma who won their little bargain.
He playfully bowed before her. "Well played, Swan. I believe I have to accept your superiority in pool. But next time it'll be darts and you won't stand a chance."
"We'll see about that," she repeated his earlier words.
Emma walked back to the booth they had shared earlier with their friends, who had long since gone home, while he headed to the bar to get new drinks.
He rejoined her only moments later and offered her a new bottle of beer. "Milady."
"Thank you, good sir," she answered mockingly and took the bottle from him.
Killian took a sip from his own beer, but his eyes didn't move from her face. "You know, if I didn't know any better I would think that you're not too unhappy that Mary Margaret was feeling a little bit ill earlier and she and David left so soon."
Emma's eyes locked with his when she answered. "It's a good thing then that you do know better."
There was something in the way she was looking at him that had Killian's heart increase its beating. But he didn't want to get his hopes up.
They finished their drinks in comfortable silence. Maybe a minute had passed since Emma had set down the empty bottle, when she said: "I guess I should better go home."
"Probably, yes," he answered quietly. "You want me to walk you back?"
It was a question he always asked when they were the last ones leaving after a night out with their friends and even if she did say no he would walk with her, making sure that she arrived home safely. He knew that Emma could very well take care of herself, but that didn't mean she should always have to rely on her own skills.
Emma nodded and together they left the bar, bundled up in their warm coats on this cold January night. They walked in silence through the quiet streets and Killian found himself closer to her than he would have expected when their arms brushed. Not that he minded.
They reached the building she lived in a few minutes later.
Killian turned around to her to say goodnight, but the words got stuck in his throat when he saw the conflicted expression on her face.
"Emma?" he asked quietly.
His voice seemed to tear her out of her thoughts and she looked at him. Once their eyes met, whatever had her worried a second before seemed to vanish and was replaced by a look he hadn't seen on her face before. It was so gentle and vulnerable that all he wanted to do was to hold her. And so he did.
His embrace surprised Emma, but Killian soon felt her relax against him and arms wind around him. He pressed a soft kiss against her forehead and the touch of his lips on her skin made her look up. For a long moment they were just looking at each other. Then Emma pulled just far enough away from him to allow herself to reach his lips with hers.
The kiss was short. Chaste.
But once they pulled apart from each other, Killian's heart was racing nonetheless. His fingers were moving to his mouth on their own accord, lips still tingling from touching hers.
"Emma…" he said once more, his voice full of wonder.
There was a smile on her lips and it was all the encouragement he needed. His lips found hers and he felt one of her hands move to his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape. His tongue brushed her bottom lip and she opened her mouth to him. She leaned her head a little to the side to deepen the kiss. He buried his hand in her golden curls, the soft feeling even better than anything he could have imagined.
They only broke apart when they needed to catch their breath, but even then Killian rested his forehead against hers, not able to be too far away from her.
"Maybe we should go inside," Emma said quietly.
"Maybe…" he agreed and with surprisingly much effort he straightened up. "But before we go inside, I need to know one thing."
Emma just looked at him, waiting for what he wanted to say.
"How drunk are you? Because if there is even the tiniest chance that this is only happening because of the alcohol in your system, I'll accept this as a goodnight kiss and return to my own apartment." Because whatever might happen with Emma, he wanted to do it the right way.
She smiled at him, before she answered. "Tipsy enough to do something I wanted to do for a while, but not too drunk for you to think you'd be taking advantage of me."
If her words weren't convincing enough for him, the look in her eyes was enough confirmation that she wanted this as much as he did.
Killian's lips found hers for a gentle kiss, before he let her unlock the door and lead the way inside.
He still hadn't woken up.
Emma was sitting next to his bed, barely even shifting in her position for hours, her eyes locked on his face. He had always looked so peaceful while asleep, younger and more innocent. As if life hadn't fucked him over and over again. And even now she could detect traces of that innocence underneath the cuts and bruises that were covering his face.
Back in the waiting room she had heard the words Dr. Whale had told her and Mary Margaret, but she hadn't been able to process them properly. But once she laid eyes on Killian the extent of the damage was sinking in. His dark hair, that she loved to rake her fingers through, was almost completely covered by bandages. The original color of his face was barely visible between the dark marks and cuts that were covering his skin. She knew that underneath the hospital gown were even more bruises. His left arm was bandaged as well after having broken in several places.
And all of that because some bastard hadn't been able to abide some of the simplest traffic laws…
If her worry wasn't consuming her almost completely, she would have lost herself in her rage toward the person who had caused all this pain. She still might.
It was probably a smart move of David to let an only slightly less furious Graham guard the other man in one of the other rooms of the hospital. Just in case.
"Killian… Please wake up," she murmured quietly and placed her hand over his right one.
For a long time the only noise in the room was the beeping of the machines. At first it annoyed the hell out of Emma, but now she was regarding it more of sign that he was still alive. He was still with her.
"Miss Swan?"
Emma didn't turn toward the woman whose voice was breaking the near silence in the room.
"No."
"Miss Swan, you probably should go home. You need some rest…"
Emma shot up and in a few quick strides she was towering over the nurse, shooting her an almost deadly glare. "What I need is for you to shut the fuck up! I'm not leaving this goddamn room until… until…" Again she felt tears burning in her eyes, but she wouldn't cry. Furiously she blinked the tears back. "I will stay right here. And now get the fuck out!" she almost growled.
For a second the nurse looked like she was going to protest, but then she nodded and turned to leave.
Once the woman was out of sight, Emma's shoulders slumped and guilt washed over her. The poor woman was only doing her job after all. She didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of the piled up anger inside Emma.
She walked back towards Killian's unconscious form and retook her seat next to him. Gently she lifted his right hands a little bit and brushed her lips against the skin. "Please Killian. You can't just leave me. You promised you would stay with me."
Killian took in the sight of the sleeping woman next to him, trying to memorize every part of her, even the tiniest freckle. Sometimes he could still hardly believe that she chose to give him a chance. To give them a chance. He would do everything he could for her not to regret this decision.
His fingers traced over her cloth-covered stomach, down to the hem of her tanktop until he felt the warm skin underneath his fingertips. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her collarbone, followed by another one and another, moving forward until his lips found the skin where her neck and shoulder met.
He knew that she was awake before he looked up.
"I would say that I'm sorry, but I'm really not," he said when their eyes met. "It was just too tempting." He smirked at her and she rolled her eyes.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"Still early," he replied. "You can try to go back to sleep some more, love."
"Or…" She placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him up for a kiss, a silent proposition Killian agreed to all too willingly.
Six months had passed since that one night had changed the nature of their relationship entirely. It had been the best six months of Killian's life.
He and Emma had had this weird kind of understanding each other from the beginning. They had been able to read each other, to see past the façade the other was presenting on the outside.
Many times that was making things between them easier, but it could be frustrating as well.
Killian wouldn't trade it for anything else though, despite the way their tempers flared up occasionally. It was just how they worked together.
After four months he had officially moved in with her, most of his clothes already having secured their spot in her closet and drawers, since he had spent most days and nights in her apartment anyway.
Killian had fallen in love with Emma before he truly got to know her. And the depth of his feelings for her had only grown over time, with every new revelation about her. Emma had needed more time to admit to herself that she cared for him as more than just a friend, but once she had realized it everything seemed to have fallen into place.
"When was the last time you ate?" Mary Margaret asked, her voice carrying the tone of a worried mother.
Emma shrugged. "The nurse brought me a sandwich earlier," she answered. She had tried to eat it, but after forcing down one bite she tossed it into the trash.
Apparently Mary Margaret seemed to sense the fate of the sandwich. "You need to take care of yourself, too. Killian won't be thanking you if you starve yourself or pass out from exhaustion." Her voice turned softer when she spoke again. "Maybe you and I should go down to the cafeteria and get a bite to eat."
"I can't leave," Emma answered, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"We won't be far and the nurses will keep an eye on him."
Emma shook her head. "You don't understand. I cannot not be here when he wakes up. I need to be here." It was only part of the truth. What was really terrifying her, keeping her by his side despite any voice of reason, was the fear that if she left, he would leave too. She couldn't take that chance, however irrational that line of thinking was.
She looked back at the still unconscious man in the bed beside her. It had been almost twenty hours since Graham had driven her to the hospital. Almost a day since she had last heard his voice. More than twenty-four hours since she had last seen that smile on his face that seemed to only belong to her.
And she was already falling apart. How would she be able to go on if he didn't wake up?
Killian entered the station and quickly walked toward where he knew he would find her. Emma was typing something, apparently not noticing his approach.
"You know, it really hurts to be stood up at lunch by a beautiful blonde."
She looked up and her eyes widened. "Oh fuck, I completely forgot about that. I'm so sorry."
He shrugged it off and placed a bag with her lunch down in front of her. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me." He sat down on the edge of her desk and looked at her. "How about we have dinner tomorrow night instead?"
Emma smiled. "Dinner sounds great. You want to cook together or go somewhere?"
"I think we should go out. And I believe I know the perfect location."
Emma looked at him questioningly, but he had no intention to explain it further and only grinned at her.
"You'll have to wait and see," he said and leaned forward to kiss her. "I'll let you get back to work, love. I'll see you at home." Killian was about to get up, when Emma grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him back for another kiss, this one just a little more heated than the last.
"I'm really sorry I missed lunch," she said and looked into his eyes.
He smiled at her. "Did I ever mention that I rather enjoy your way of apologizing to me?"
Emma rolled her eyes. "Get out."
Killian moved away from her desk and walked out of the station, his mind already busy with his plans for their dinner the next day.
It had been one year since he had moved to Storybrooke today, which meant the next day marked one year since he first laid eyes on the woman he loved more than he ever thought possible. Emma might not be fully aware of the significance that date held for him yet, but he had plans to show her.
It would just take a little more preparation.
Everything hurt.
Killian grimaced and his mind was trying to convince him that he should just continue to sleep. At least asleep he had barely noticed the pain.
Slowly he was forcing his eyes to open and they were met with bright light, which made him squeeze them shut once again. After a moment he started another attempt, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He blinked and took in his surroundings. The walls were almost bare, sterile. There were machines next to him and their beeping noise was already getting on his nerves.
How he hated hospitals…
His memories of how he got there were fuzzy, but judging from how almost every part of his body hurt it hadn't been a pleasant experience.
But then his eyes found something that made him forget everything else. A head resting on his mattress, the face almost completely hidden by long blonde hair that moved lightly with her breathing. And despite the pain he smiled.
He cautiously tried moving his hand and, when he felt like he could handle the aching, gently brushed the hair from her face.
Emma was looking paler than usual, dark circles underneath her eyes only increasing the look of complete exhaustion. Killian frowned and wondered for how long he had been out cold.
Finally she started stirring, her eyelids blinking open. When she met his gaze, her eyes widened.
"Hey," he said, his voice sounding hoarse because his mouth was feeling so dry. He swallowed a few times, hoping that it would help his dry throat.
Emma slowly raised her head. "You're awake?" she said, the insecurity in her voice making it sound like a question. Killian thought he saw tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
"Aye."
The next thing he knew she was up and her lips pressed on his. Killian ignored the pain that shot through his body, only wishing that he were able to move and hold her right there while kissing her back. He felt her hot tears drop on his skin and he didn't need her to say the words to explain what this time of uncertainty had been like for her.
She moved a little and Killian couldn't help wincing.
Emma pulled back quickly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you…"
Killian laughed lightly. "You kissing me like that is worth it," he croaked. "Some water?"
"Of course," she said and poured some into a glass that was sitting on the bedside table. She helped him drink the water, lifting the glass to his lips.
"How long?" he asked after she had set the glass down again. He didn't need to be more specific. She knew exactly what he wanted to know.
Killian saw how she tensed and tried to control her emotions before she spoke.
"A day… more or less," she answered, trying to make it sound casual.
"I'm sorry," he said. He only had to look at her to know how afraid she had been. How terrified of once again being left alone.
"It wasn't your fault," she said quickly.
Killian smiled tiredly. "I still hate causing you pain."
Their eyes locked and even though neither of them said a word the silent exchange was enough to convey what needed to be said.
Killian reached for her hand and their fingers entwined. When he had left the sheriff station hours before his accident, he had had plans how they would spend the next evening. Plans to show her just how important she had become to him during the year they knew each other. But even though he wanted to ensure her now more than ever that he wasn't going anywhere, it wasn't the right time.
He didn't want him asking her to spend her life with him forever linked to the moment they were almost torn from each other.
They would still have time for that on another day.