So this is just something I threw together, I'm still getting used to Killian as a character but hopefully I'll find a muse for writing this. Try not to be too hard with the flamethrowers. Set about a month after the events of In the The Outsider.

~o~

A month had passed since the car accident, a month of being bound to a bed with little to nothing to occupy his time with other than his own thoughts. Thoughts and memories that brought nothing but pain and utter anguish to him for hours on end the only distractions being the nurses who came and went in a cyclic loop. What was worth living for now? He couldn't kill Rumplestiltskin, the magic in this place meant he was unable to do even that. 300 years in the making and his plans came to nought at the last moment.

That voice that resided in his mind roused as he looked at the bandage clad stump which supposedly passed for his left hand. You're useless. You're broken. No one will ever want you, you're alone. This presence had been with him from the moment Milah died in his arms, always reminding, never letting him forget that fateful day. Closing his eyes he thought of the look on the crocodile's face when he'd shot that idiotic girl he'd been with. He might've failed his main mission but he'd accomplished something he'd caused the creature pain.

~o~

A Few Days Later

Liberty – About bloody time, the documents had been sorted and Jones was finally liberated from the white prison that had been his residing residence for the past month. Emma had un-cuffed him a few weeks back since he'd quipped about where in this state where would I go? It was true and she saw the point he made and thus un-cuffed him for which he was grateful. He was brought out of his musings when the Nurse arrived in his room a clipboard in hand. They weren't releasing him because he was better he was far from better – They were releasing him because they were fed up of his complaining and childish whining. That and his incessant flirtatious quotes towards the staff; no one was safe from Hook's comments and the female staff especially were getting tired of his attentions.

To Killian it was clear he had no place here, this world wasn't his own and yet he didn't truly belong in the other. Whilst he was signing the last document as best he could with his injuries the familiar voice of Emma Swan filled his ears; as the nurse left him his attention quickly shifted to her leant casually in the doorframe.

"Swan? I know you might be eager to jump me now that I'm being released but . . ." He was interrupted before he could continue.

"I took the liberty of getting you some normal clothes, didn't fancy having you running around town in a sheet." With this she stepped across the threshold of the room her blonde hair left to tumble down over her leather jacket clad shoulders. She placed down a set of jeans and a black shirt on the end of the bed apparently nonplussed by his comment about jumping his bones.

A single dark eyebrow arched although he smiled and carefully – Mindful of his ribs turned to ease his legs over the edge of the bed. He twisted to reach for the shirt although ended up wincing and cringing at the pain that flared up over his body. "Bloody hell I feel like I've been keel-hauled. Lass you're gonna have to help me here. There's no way I'm managing this without your aid."

"Alright, alright hold still." Concern etched her features for the briefest of moments as she took ahold of the shirt finally moving over to him and helping to ease off the hospital garment. She couldn't help but gasp at the sight that she beheld, his chest was a vast array of purples, blues and black patches in some places. There were red scratches from the roadburn he'd received after being tossed a good few feet in the air when Greg's car had hit him.

Emma's gasp drew his attention and he watched her for a second the words spilled from his lips before he could even consider what he was saying. "My ribs might be broken but everything else is still intact if that's what you're wondering Swan. It's more than can be said for other bad days I've had. . ." From the way his voice strained when he spoke it was clear he was still in pain but even in this state he managed to throw the odd line her way.

"Are you sure you're fit to be getting out of here Hook?"

"Aye Lass I'm perfectly fine, now how about that shirt unless you'd prefer me to walk around without one?"

"No I'd rather not have that; we wouldn't want to frighten Granny. . . Mind you I doubt anything would frighten her. . . Especially now she's got that crossbow about in the Diner."

"Well then let's sort out these garments and get out of this place I'm sick of the. . . Whiteness. I need the ocean breeze back on my face."

Without much time wasted – Excluding the issues she had with Killian's complaints about the strange fabric that made up the jeans she'd brought him he was dressed and looking fairly ordinary. There were other things on his mind as he perched on the edge of the bed letting her lace up the black army boots she'd brought for him.

"Swan. . . What have you done with my Hook? I mean I assume you've taken it but. . . I could really use it back."

"If you behave yourself then I'll bring it to you Hook but for the moment you're not getting anything other than that."

Huffing childishly he put his hands to the edge of the bed finally shifting his weight enough to try and stand up. Emma made to help him but he waved her off – or attempted to as best he could with his jarred joints. With a stream of muttered curses he did finally after a few minutes managed to get himself onto his feet. Taking a breath and using the IV stand he'd been hooked up to as a support he took a few tentative steps. His walk wasn't purposeful it was more of a hobble – All that could be managed with the state of his body right now.

"Killian come on. . . Let me get you a wheelchair."

"I'm not a cripple Swan." Did she just use his name? Surely not.

A few more steps and he managed to make it to the corridor, the agonizingly slow progress continued as he stubbornly continued down the hallway using the wall as a support Emma following close at his heels. Why was she even here? He occasionally had to stop and take a few minutes to rest and to try and quench the nauseating pain that rose with every step he took but he could already feel a cold breeze from the entrance. Nearly there Hook, nearly there just a little way more.

Half an hour and a boatload of curses later Killian found himself outside and being supported by Emma. His entire body felt like it was on fire and it wasn't a feeling he fancied enduring any longer.

"Right that's it I'm not letting you go back alone, let me go fetch the bug and I'll drop you off at the docks."

Before he could make a complaint or even really comment – which was hard enough as it was she had left him there leant against the side of the named 'Hospital'. A little while later the yellow bug rounded the corner. A short drive and lack of conversation during their following trip meant that soon enough the bug pulled up at the docks and Killian arrived home for the first time that month. . . But something was missing, the joy he once felt for the ocean air was gone and instead all he felt was emptiness. He felt void and numb as he looked out at the water.

What was left worth living for?

~o~

I wasn't intending much from this but there you go. Anyway I was planning for this to just be a one-shot but my suicidal Killy muse will probably turn this into a two or three-shot. We'll see.