I caved. Here's my contribution to the Dark Swan fics. Enjoy!
"Come now, Captain." She purrs, trailing a hand down his left arm. "You didn't actually think she'd want you like this, did you? Not when you're so… broken."
She shoves the arm she was examining away before walking a distance from him and cackling – something tinny and hoarse when it was once tinkling and light.
"So what do you say, Hook?"
And in an instant, she's back in his space again and it's like she's everywhere, all at once, too – invading his senses and clawing into his mind.
"I could do it, you know," she says, so reminiscent of the old Emma when she first spoke the words that it takes him back to that moment.
"I could do it."
It had been a blissful three weeks – no catastrophes, no villains.
Just peace.
It was one of those perfect mornings where they would have breakfast with Henry before sending him off to school. Her father was taking first shift in the station so Emma was free to spend her morning however she wanted – with whomever she wanted.
Like a certain pirate.
They are walking along the docks, sides pressed together to keep warm, when she says it.
"What?"
She always walks on his left, which he complains about every time cause it doesn't allow him the opportunity to hold her hand (but he secretly loves this about her), so she trails her fingers down to his hook.
"You know I don't mind this, right?"
He quirks a confused eyebrow at her direction and wonders at her sudden inability to look him in the eye and opting to train them intently on his hook instead.
"To what exactly are you referring, love?"
She blushes, red blossoming on her cheeks and creeping down all the way to her neck.
"I, ah–" she huffs. "Okay. Obviously, I don't know how to do this right."
He chuckles because she's downright adorable when she's frustrated, bottom lip protruding in a pout, but he slows their gait and tugs her back so that she's facing him.
She groans and drops her forehead on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around her waist.
"Forget I said anything."
Her voice is muffled against his leathers so he nudges her head up till they are face-to-face.
"No, uh uh. Tell me," he brushes his thumb against the dimple in her chin. "What's this about?"
He cups her cheek and she leans into his touch.
"You… are… perfect to me, okay? I don't ever want to change you or make you feel like you have to. I know that this," she clutches his hook to her chest, "is a part of you and I don't want or need you to be anything other than what you are now – a good man."
He gulps, overwhelmed by her words and acutely aware of how monumental this moment is – how much consideration Emma places in the words she utters because she understands the value behind a genuine declaration, knows that they can matter just as much as one's actions.
So he nods, traces the apple of her cheek with his finger and marvels at the angel before him, before murmuring a breathless "thank you" across her lips and hoping she senses how much he truly means it.
He presses a kiss to her forehead, though he is still confounded.
"But I still don't understand… what's brought this on?"
"It's just… all that doesn't matter if… you're not happy with you."
He smirks. "I quite like me, thank you very much. I was under the impression you did too." He waggles his eyebrows mischievously. "Especially when I do this."
He proceeds to viciously pepper her face and neck with nips and kisses, armed with the knowledge that the texture of his scruff and the movement of his lips against certain areas of her skin drive her mad with laughter – her neck a particularly sensitive and ticklish part.
Emma throws her head back and the sounds coming out of her mouth – childish and delighted and light – make his blood simmer with a lazy sort of desire. But it is broad daylight and they are in the middle of the docks for all and sundry to see so instead of acting on it, he changes the pace of his pecks to something soft and slow and he smiles against her skin.
Emma's laughter also dwindles down to slight pants, her breath ghosting in small puffs in front of her on every exhale. She runs her fingers through his hair, sliding through his locks till she reaches the hair at the nape of his neck.
She gives a little tug and Killian raises his head from its place on her shoulder.
She laughs one more time when she sees the pout on his lips.
"I like you just fine," she traces that same bottom lip. "But do you? Really? Because I remember a certain date where you made a deal with Rumplestiltskin to get your hand back, thinking it was something I wanted."
She feels him tense beneath her hands where they rest upon his shoulders. She hates to bring this particular subject up, hates to bring the Dark One up, not when they've already discussed it in the weeks following the event and not when they're having such a wonderful time like now – wrapped up in each other in the perfect cuddling weather and a little sunshine bearing down on them – but this is important. She needs him to know and her timing is shit but she could no longer wait and… well.
There's no time like the present, after all.
"I want you to do things that make you happy. If that means you wanting your hand back then… I could do it, you know?" She takes a deep breath. "Regina's been teaching me magic and I've been practicing on strengthening it everyday.
"I personally could care less if you had one hand, two, or none." He smiles. "But he took something that was rightfully yours. If you ever wanted it back… well… you let me know and I've got you, okay?" She places her hand on his chest, right on top of his heart where she can feel it beating – rapid and strong and firm. "I've got you."
"I could do it. I could give you back your hand."
The Dark One grins – if you could even call it that, all teeth and bordering on a snarl.
"And all you need to do is give… me… my… dagger."
She says it on a singsong tone and with her fingers curling into the hair on his chest just like Emma does, no doubt meant to lure him in.
"Give in, Hook," she whispers in his ear, lips ghosting down his cheek in an almost kiss, "don't you miss it? Don't you miss the darkness? It's absolutely delicious. The way I completely don't give a shit about anyone, how I could burn this place to the ground with a snap of my fingers. I love it and," her hand moves to his scalp, nails digging into it in a mockery of a caress while the other creeps slowly down his arm where he holds the dagger. "The darkness loves you Hook. I know it calls to you. I can feel it."
And the thing is… it would be so easy to fall into the darkness. It does call to him. He always did have a dark side, being on the side of the heroes never diminished that part of him completely but it did make it a hell of a lot easier to keep at bay – most of it though he would attribute to Emma.
Now, though. Now Emma is the fucking Dark One, the one he spent 300 years chasing, and here she is – asking him to join her.
"Come with me, Hook. I could give to you what she never could, I could love you."
Her lips are now centimeters from his own that he can almost taste her. Their noses nudge gently against each other and she's so close, closer than she's ever been since she has disappeared that he's aching for her. She's so… so much like the old Emma and the words that she's saying make his resolve weaken.
"And with our love… we will set this world aflame."
Her eyes are boring into his and they're so much like old Emma's emerald green, everything about her is like the old Emma…
The old Emma.
"You're right," he whispers. "I could give you this dagger and you could give me my hand and I would give into the darkness and we will rule the realms to the ground."
Her grin widens.
"But you don't want that."
Then her grin disappears and her eyes narrow to angry slits. "What?"
"The darkness changes nothing. I know you're there, Emma–"
"No," she screeches, abruptly shoving him away. "She is not here!"
He stumbles but it doesn't stop him from his tirade.
"–and I know this isn't what you truly want. The Dark One may have a hold on you now but I know you're still in there, and I won't let you do anything you may regret."
"Shut up," she snarls. "Shut up!"
Her fingers crackle with magic but she makes no move to hurt him.
"So yes, Dark One, you could return to me what was once mine but, I'll tell you the same thing I told Emma when she offered me such a gift."
"I've got you."
He covers the hand on his chest with his own before leaning down and capturing her lips in an appreciative kiss.
It's lazy but long and they're both breathless by the time they pull away.
"You've a beautiful heart, Swan," he hums appreciatively, "which is why I don't need you to do such a thing."
He takes a deep breath.
"You're right. This," he lifts his hook up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, "is a part of who I am. I may not be proud of that part of my life but I can't forget about it either. I can't change who I was but I can damn well choose who I can be. This will be a reminder of how the darkness once took a hold of me, and how it never shall again."
Emma's smile is effervescent. "What did I say? You're a good man."
"This is a part of me." He raises his hook towards her. "And it is a reminder never to give into the darkness ever… again."
He walks towards her. "So I reject your offer, Dark One. But Emma…"
"Stay back!"
Her hands are up on the defensive but she makes no other movement.
"I know you won't hurt me."
And he can see it, see her, his Emma fighting her way through the darkness and for a moment, she breaks through.
"Kil–Killian?"
"Emma?" He runs to her immediately. "Emma."
"What happened? Oh–oh god what's happened to me? What have I done?"
He tells her the same thing she once did to him.
"I've got you, love. I've got you."
Tears spring to her eyes and she's caressing every part of him she can reach. "Did I hurt you? Did I hurt anyone?"
"No," he fervently shakes his head in reassurance. "Your parents, Henry, the town, they're fine. You came to me when I was alone. You've hurt not a soul."
"Thank god." Her chest is heaving from the relief but it's also heavy from the burden of the darkness.
"The darkness, Killian, I don't know how to control it. I don't know if I can."
He's cupping her face. "I know. But you can and we'll find a way!"
Her eyes, momentarily filled with the brilliance of her light, flicker to a dimness before going back.
She groans. "It's returning, the darkness. It's trying to break through."
"Tell me what to do," his voice is broken.
"Don't let it take me, Killian." She's pressing kisses all over his face and his hand clutches so tightly at her hip he's sure he'll leave a bruise.
"Never, my love. Never."
She gasps and her hand clutches at her heart. "It's back. You need to go."
"No, I won't leave you!"
"I don't wanna hurt you."
She's sobbing but so is he and this is wrong, she doesn't deserve this and it isn't fair and it's fucked up.
"You won't."
"I love you," she says and he's starting to hate the words because every time she says it it sounds like goodbye.
"I'll find you, Emma. I'll find you."
They have one more kiss and he vows for it to never be their last.
And then she's gone in a puff of smoke, without a trace, and he's clutching at the dagger once more.
He traces her name like he would her face, slowly and lovingly.
He once said that he'd stop chasing this woman, one of these days. But he's so glad he's had 300 years of experience going after the Dark One.
Because as it happens, today is not one of those days.
Well, I hope it was worth the read! :)