A/N: So, I actually have quite a bit to say about this story, so bear with me.

First, I started this back when classes were starting up again in January. I think I saw a photoset, or maybe it was an answer to a prompt (?), on Tumblr, and I got super inspired. As you all know, I love my CS AUs, so this shouldn't be too much of a shock. Anyways, it's actually a mostly-finished product right now, but I'll post the chapters semi-periodically (given that people actually enjoy it).

Okay, without further ado, I present to you, Places Where You Hide, inspired by OneRepublic's song 'What You Wanted'.


Emma Swan didn't want to fall in love. Ever, possibly.

Living in foster homes for only a few months at a time can do that to a person. It wasn't just that she didn't want to fall in love, then. She didn't know what love was, or how to come across it. Love was something she hadn't ever seen in reality, so she spent her teenage life believing it wasn't even real. She glared at anyone walking down the halls at school holding hands, or kissing. She was just disgusted by the idea of being attached. But, maybe deep down, she might have longed for it at some point.

She was just a little undesirable. It wasn't her looks that was the problem, either. Blonde locks flowed about midway down her back, usually tied back in a messy bun or ponytail. Her light, green eyes rarely left the book she was always nose-deep in. Though she was attractive enough to capture the attention of a few boys around school, the moment she opened her mouth to snap at someone was usually when they were put off.

Emma was also brand-new to the school. She didn't know anyone now, though, she didn't know many people back at her old school, either. It changed so often that it was hard to keep up with all of it. People tended to avoid her like the plague regardless of where she lived, knowing that she was only temporary, that she wouldn't stay long. She was frequently bullied (at every school she attended), but instead of cowering away, Emma stood her ground and quite literally punched her way out. That landed her in detention on a Tuesday that would change her view on the world.

This story is also about a boy by the name of Killian Jones. His scruffy, rugged look made girls around the high school swoon, but he didn't desire any of them. Crystal blue eyes appeared under the dark brown hair that flopped in his face, and as many said, could see into one's soul. Killian didn't buy that, though. He tended to shy away from rumors.

He was shyer (outwardly, that is) than most people would expect, with his older brother, Liam, being the athlete star he was. No, Killian didn't care for attention much. He wore his black leather jacket and simple jeans every day to classes, hoping to fly under the radar. After his drunken father committed suicide the year before, he hadn't really liked to talk to anyone but his brother. Liam was the only one who understood. He was the only one who knew why Killian felt so alone.

Killian didn't make good decisions, Liam had told him time and time again. He would choose smoking under the bleachers over gossiping in the hall, earning him his own detention sentence on that same Tuesday.

That's where this story really begins.


Killian sauntered in, winking at the teacher who was unlucky enough to host detention. She shot him a glare and pointed to an empty chair next to none other than Emma Swan. He offered a smile as he toss his bag down, and she rolled her eyes before looking back down to her book. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Even the simple way she tucked some hair behind her ear was beautiful.

"Hey, you're in one of my classes." He noted with a smile that caught Emma's attention.

"Mr. Jones, there is no talking in detention." The teacher reminded him as she left the room.

"I know." Killian smiled, then turned back to Emma, whose eyes were now fixated on him.

"Don't you dare get me into more trouble than I'm already in." Emma snarled.

"Feisty, are we?" Killian grinned, nearly knocking her book over as he held his hand out, "Killian Jones."

Emma simply stared.

"This is the part where you give me your name, love."

"Do not call me that." Emma snapped.

"If you give me a name, I won't need to." Killian smiled, moving his hand just a little closer.

"Emma."

"Emma…?"

"Swan." Emma mumbled, "Leave me alone."

"Swans… Those are supposed to be graceful animals, are they not?"

Emma rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to just reach over and punch him. She simply took a deep breath and looked back down to her book.

"What class do we share? I know I've seen you before."

"Doubtful."

"Why?" Killian asked, and Emma stopped reading. She glared to him, knowing that he sure as hell wasn't getting the answer.

"C'mon, love—"

"I told you not to call me that."

"Emma." He smiled, "Don't be so stuck up."

"Me? Stuck up?" Emma snickered, then stopped, "That's hilarious."

"Are you saying something, Swan?"

"Can you stop with the nicknames?" Emma groaned. Before he could reply, the teacher came back, and he sat up a little straighter in his seat.

Emma watched him, curious about him. No one had really tried to make any kind of contact with her thus far, and it was… pleasant, sort of. She still didn't want to get in too deep. She knew too well what would happen if she got in too deep.

After detention was over, Emma hurried out as fast as she could, but Killian followed her.

"Want to smoke for a bit?" Killian offered as he strode beside her. Emma raised an eyebrow before rolling her eyes.

She really had nothing to lose at this point, she supposed.

"Sure." Emma replied, following him to the bleachers. He began going as far back as he could, then sat down. Emma sat beside him, taking a cigarette from him and grabbing her own lighter from her pocket. She lit it and drew it out, sighing into the warm air.

"So, you're new here?" Killian asked curiously.

"Yeah."

"What brings you here?"

Emma looked down to the dirt, realizing that she'd have to tell someone eventually.

"I, um, I'm with a foster family." She admitted quietly.

"Really?" Killian asked, understanding how it felt to be abandoned by parents.

"Yeah. I don't talk about it much."

"My parents left me, too, you know." Killian noted, taking a quick drag before sighing, "My mum left when I was young, and my dad killed himself last year. The whole town's said 'Davy Jones had finally lost it'."

"Your dad's name was Davy?"

"It was David, but… People always gave me shit for being his son." Killian said, "Even earned myself a colorful moniker."

"Really?"

"Hook."

"Why?"

"I don't know, to keep up with the whole pirate thing, I guess. I don't care. People don't matter."

"You seemed to really want to talk to me." Emma pointed out.

"I don't know. Something kind of dragged me to you."

"Don't exaggerate it too much." Emma reminded him, "Besides, I don't really do the whole 'friend' thing."

"Oh, and then you just agreed to this to get a free cig, then?" Killian smiled, earning a small smile in return.

"You could put it that way." Emma shrugged.

"I like you, Emma Swan."

"Don't. I really can't do this friends thing." Emma said, shaking her head and rising to her feet to begin walking away. Killian just watched her walk away, until he saw someone stop her. He narrowed his eyes a little, wondering who it was. He didn't put out his cigarette until he realized exactly who it was. Neal Cassidy.

Neal was a senior at the school, and he wasn't exactly the nicest guy around. He frequently stole from convenient stores around the town, and he nearly always kept a bag of pot in his locker. Or in his car—though, he had a different (stolen) one every week.

Killian quickly jumped to his feet and jogged towards her, hoping he hadn't done anything to her. He saw Neal grab Emma's arm, and that's when he decided to step in.

"Hey, she doesn't want to be talked to—"

"I can handle this myself, Killian." Emma snapped, turning back to Neal, "Fuck off."

Killian nearly smiled at Emma's ability to stand her ground. Until a fist met his cheek.

"Where's your big brother, Hook?" Neal snickered as he leaned over Killian, "Not here to defend you now, is he?"

"Hey!" Emma yelled, slapping Neal harder than he was expecting, "I told you to fuck off!"

Neal rubbed at his cheek before scurrying off like a dog with his tail between his legs.

"I told you not to butt in, Killian." Emma snapped. Killian chuckled and rose to his feet, shaking it off.

"I was only trying to help." He replied, rubbing his thumb across his cheek, only to find blood coating it.

"You're an idiot." Emma grumbled, digging in her pocket to find a tissue, then handed it to him, "Here."

"Thanks." Killian smiled. Emma turned on her heel and started walking away again, without another word. Killian held the tissue to his cheek, a smile on his face. He couldn't wait to see her again.

"Killian, what have you done now?" A worried voice asked from behind him. Killian turned to see his brother standing there, then sighed.

"Ran into Neal again."

"Again? Kill, you've gotta be careful." Liam sighed, grabbing his brother's chin and turning his cheek, "C'mon. We've gotta go get that cleaned up before it gets infected or something."

Liam tugged his brother to his car, and Killian got into the passenger seat.

"Why do you have that smile on your face? I haven't seen that smile since Mil—in a while." Liam corrected, starting the car.

"Met a girl." Killian grinned, "She hates me so far, but she talked to me."

"What a development." Liam chuckled, earning a playful shove, "Who is it?"

"Her name is Emma Swan."

"Isn't she the foster girl?"

"I don't think she'd appreciate you calling her that." Killian said.

"Well, I'm thinking of the right girl, right? Long, blonde hair, quiet?"

"Yeah, that's her." Killian sighed, "I don't think she's looking for a relationship."

"That's okay. If you like her that much, you'll wait." Liam said, causing Killian to look over to him.

"You think?"

"Sure. I mean, love doesn't just happen, Killy."

"Don't call me that."

"I'm your older brother. I can call you what I want." Liam grinned, gently punching his arm, "Look, I'm glad you think you can start moving on. I want you to."

"Then stay here." Killian spoke seriously, causing Liam to sigh and run a hand down his face.

"Killian, you know I can't."

"Why not? You don't have to go into the Navy."

"I thought you said you'd come join me next year? We can sail together, Kill. Wouldn't that be amazing?" Liam reminded him with a sincere smile, "I know you don't want me to leave you alone. But, I promise, I'll Skype, text, call, facetime—whatever—with you. I won't leave you totally alone."

"I know, I just… I don't know. The house is going to be a little too empty."

"I promise it won't be any different. You'll be eighteen soon, Kill. Then you can do whatever you want. I'll be sure to buy you enough cigs to get you through the time until you're eighteen." Liam said, making Killian chuckle.

"Thanks." Killian sighed, "I'll still miss you."

"I know you will. I'll miss you, too. But, hey, we'll be together again in a year, okay?" Liam smiled as he pulled into the driveway of their house.

"Yeah." Killian replied, offering a forced smile. He got out of the car, grabbing his bag and heading for the door.

"Killian, wait!" Liam hollered after him. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face in defeat.

Killian went straight to his room, dropping his bag on his desk and slamming the door. He flopped onto the bed, closing his eyes and thinking. He opened one eye to see the wall of various maps pinned up to the wall. Many of them he drew himself (with Liam's help), making him smile. They were certainly his favorite things in his room, and he wouldn't trade the world for them.


Emma walked as slowly as she possibly could to get home. Home wasn't really a home. Her foster mother was a rude bitch, and her foster father wasn't ever around, and if he was, he was drinking. There were way too many kids in the small house, but Emma didn't talk to any of them. She simply went to her small closet of a room in the back of the house and read.

"Emma, have you done your chores?" The woman ordered as she rapped on the door.

"Oh, um, no, I'll do them." Emma sighed, dog-earing the page and opening the door.

"You better. Otherwise you won't get anything to eat tonight." The woman replied as Emma closed her door.

"Okay." Emma replied, rolling her eyes when her foster mother walked away. She knew dinner wouldn't be enough anyways—the couple (if you could call them that) only had this many foster kids so they could get state funds from it. Once the kids were there long enough for them to get some good money, they shipped them off to another home. It was one sick cycle that Emma was doomed to.