The Fault In Our Scars

Captain Swan. Emma and Killian share the stories behind their scars. [Set after the Season 3 finale.]

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It's morning, but neither Emma nor Killian can bring themselves to get out of bed - him because he can't believe this is his life now, her because she can't remember the last time she woke up in bed next to someone who makes her this happy. So they lay there, a tangle of sheets and limbs, too content to move. She threads her fingers through his good hand, letting his calluses brush up against hers - there's something reassuring about the feeling, especially when his ridges fit perfectly into her own. She gives his hand a loving squeeze. He returns it a moment later, though his lasts a second longer.

Emma studies his hand. They're both still getting used to the touch and feel of the other, but she feels she's beginning to know his hand just as well as she knows her own. And the thought warms her. But as she lazily strokes his index finger with her thumb, she comes across something new.

"What happened here?" she asks, focusing on the small, smooth scar midway across his finger.

Killian's eyes follow her fingers, when he sees what she's referring to he smiles and snorts. "Just another souvenir of my time in the navy, Love."

He goes back to playing with her fingers.

Emma shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Wow... You really don't shut up do you?"

Hearing the teasing tone in her voice, Killian grins and acquiesces, "I was twelve when I joined the navy, younger than most-"

"So you lied," she interrupts, her lips forming an amused smile.

"Not exactly…" he replies. "I snuck onto my brother Liam's ship and hid as a stowaway for several weeks." Seeing that she's listening he continues. "Eventually they found me, hard not to with food going unaccounted for… Anyway, Liam convinced them to let me work in the kitchen… At least until I was old enough to formally join. This is what happens when you aren't paying attention as you're peeling potatoes."

"Remind me to find you another job on Thanksgiving," Emma jokes, running her finger over his scar once more.

He lets her for a few minutes, before pulling their hands closer to his face and examining the small circular scar on the back of hers.

"Emma, what happened here?" he asks, brushing it with his thumb.

She sighs. "Sometimes foster dads like to smoke and watch TV… One day I made the mistake of knocking the remote out of his hand. The next thing I knew, he was screaming in my face, his cigarette butt pressed- Well, you know…"

Killian's thumb freezes in place. Her eyes fly up to his face where he meets her gaze. "I'm sorry that happened to you…" he says, before drawing her hand to his lips and kissing the terrible reminder.

"It's okay…" Emma says, watching him. "It's why I never took up smoking." She flashes a grin at him to let him know that she really is fine.

He rolls over to kiss her, murmuring, "You're bloody brilliant, Swan… You know that?"

As he pulls away, she focuses on the line on his cheek, bringing up her fingers to investigate. Reading her mind, he begins his story unprompted.

"As a lad, I used to watch my father shave," Killian smiles as he relives the memory. "He'd always say it helped him forget the previous night's troubles…" His smile fades, but he continues. "The morning after my mother died, I thought it might help me forget too… Only I was seven and had no beard." His eyes meet Emma's as he says, "He left the next day..."

Emma smiles sadly as she brings her hand up to cradle his face. She leans forward to kiss his cheek.

"I used to think wishing on candles would bring my parents back," she says aloud after he settles back next to her, pulling her close to him and wrapping his good arm around her. She pulls out her arm and reveals a thin dark line on the inside of the forearm. "I baked myself a cupcake every year hoping it would bring them back."

Emma chuckles as she studies the scar. "That was a lot of cake…"

Killian grins as he places his chin on her shoulder and tells her, "I used to drink myself to sleep and wake up because I forgot to take my hook off…" He brings up his forearm to reveal what look like faded scratch marks.

This time it's his turn to chuckle. "That was a lot of rum…"

"You really loved her…" Emma says, running her thumb across the thin lines on his arm.

Killian studies her for a second before replying, "A different man loved her."

Upon hearing his words she stops what she's doing. A long moment later, she brings his hand down to her waist, pressing it up against her rib cage. "One of the first few times I chased a guy jumping bail, I broke one of my ribs."

"At least he didn't get away," he replies, holding her close.

Emma smiles at the confidence in his voice, as she turns around to face him. "You're pretty good at finding people yourself."

"I've only ever tried to find one person," he says.

"What about Gold?" she teases, a twinkle in her eye.

"I never ate bologna for him," Killian clarifies. A few seconds later, he mutters, "Vile substance…" under his breath.

Emma blushes, looking away. As she does, she catches sight of a small scar on his forehead. She brings her fingers up to investigate. "Let me guess, pirate fight?"

Having seen his sword work up close, she figures it took a few bumps and bruises to get that good.

"In a matter of speaking…" he answers, causing her eyes to flicker back up to his. "A certain blonde saviour knocked me out with a gold compass."

Her eyes narrow at this. "I didn't knock you out. You let me win!"

"Trust me, Love. You were always going to win that fight. I just knew when to stay down," Killian tells her.

Emma waits, but her gut remains still - looks like the pirate is telling the truth. "You knew I would win?"

He simply shrugs before returning her gaze with a shy smile.

A few seconds later she slowly brings up her hand, showing him the thin line across her palm. "I cut my hand climbing a beanstalk, and this dashing rapscallion tied it up..." Seeing the blush spread across his cheeks and his lips widen in a smile, Emma continues. "But it scared me how much I trusted him then… and how much I trust him now-"

Before she can continue, his lips are on hers as he pulls her closer. As the kiss deepens Emma lets her free hand find its way into his hair as her other hand tugs his pyjama collar closer.

Moments later she pulls away, grinning at him. But her brow furrows when she sees the twinkle in his eye.

"So, do I kiss better than the monkey?"

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A/N: This is for my lovely (and patient) CSSS, kimidakewooooo. Please follow her if you have the chance. I know I didn't exactly stick to my prompt, but this fic took on a life of its own and I couldn't really stop it. It's also been forever since I've gotten a chance to write, but she was totally worth the effort.

I loved the idea of Hook and Emma sharing the stories behind their scars because not only did it feel like an intimate thing to do, but I thought it would be an exercise that would bond them - especially since they've always had similarities in that they understand the pain the other has gone through.

In any case, if you have any thought, comments, questions or concerns please drop me an ask. If you liked this and want to check out more of my work, it's all on tumblr, or over on or AO3. Thanks for reading!