Authors Note: Hi lovelies! I know it's been a while since I've posted something. I'm sorry to say that I've had the worst case of writers block. I've actually been really put out by it. Needless to say, this oneshot was a bitch to do. I started it about a week before 3x01 premiered. So it's a bit AU (but hey that's what fanfic is all about.) There are actually a couple things that happen in here that happened in the last four eps. Which actually pleases me a bit. My foresight must be in the know a little, but I won't tell you what bits I got right as that would spoil things.
In regards to this piece, I'm actually nervous about posting it as I don't think it's my best written work, but because I pushed through the block and continued until I was finished with it I decided ultimately that I would share with my shipmates. Gonna warn you that it's a bit lengthy but all the same I hope you enjoy the read.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to the gods I know as KitsWitz
They had gotten Henry back, but there had been a cost. Gold was presumed dead. Regina was missing. David-her father was still badly wounded from their last close encounter. And Pan and his group of underage thugs were closing in on them. Fast.
Emma made sure Henry was behind her even as one of her hands clasped around his and despite David's injury he was up and standing at his grandsons back, against the stone wall they now found themselves cornered in, his sword drawn while his hand cradled his side in an effort to ward off the pain. Her mother and Killian were in front of them, just as armed and ready for the assault to come. She felt her gaze pull from one and then to the other.
Killian.
How long had it been since she stopped referring to him as Hook? At least to herself.
Emma supposed it had been two weeks ago when he returned to them, after a separation by attack, but he came walking into their camp, with Henry in tow.
He had rescued her son.
Later on that night when everyone else had fallen asleep, she had sought him out and thanked him once more. Giving in to what she had wanted to do for more time then she was willing to admit, and she kissed him. Jokingly stating afterwords, that he'd earned it as reward. They both knew however, it was so much more than that. It had meant something pivotal. Changing her belief in what could be. But he never pressed her for more than she was ready to give after, and that had meant everything.
A weight settled itself deep within her chest.
Clenching the sword he had given her tighter in her unsteady grip. Neal's sword...
Mary Margaret turned towards her, catching her daughters eyes lingering on the Captain, and looked back to her husband who shared the same knowing look. And Emma knew that they could see it too. They probably had seen it coming long before she did. "Emma." Her mother spoke. Voice filled with an affection that only a mother could speak. "It's going to be all right." But her lips were tight around the assurance. And there was the deepest worry behind the light in her eyes. Worry Emma knew, was for the safety and well being of her family.
At this point their defenses were hanging on by a thread.
"Aye." Hook spoke. A hardness in his tone that Emma had rarely heard him use. He turned his head her way but his eyes we're trained on the treeline and jungle before them. "When they break through. Your mother and I will hold them back as best as we can. You take Henry and run Swan."
"You too Charming."
Emma wanted to protest but the words died in her throat when her father beat her to it.
"I'm not leaving you." David said fiercely.
"And I don't want to loose you. Either of you. We'll hold them off. You run. Got it?" David said nothing but his disagreement was loud and clear. As was hers.
"No. I don't like this." Emma stated.
"Neither do I!" Henry said. His voice quaking. "I'm sick of running from them! I want to fight back! No one gets left behind this time." It broke her heart to hear her son say that. Remembering what he told her-how he and Killian we're able to escape the den of The Lost Ones together but only after Gold had sacrificed himself in the process. And he had cried in her arms, confessing how much it hurt to leave his grandfather there. How he didn't want to loose him like he had lost his dad.
"Henry-" Snow started.
"No!" He shouted back. "I won't do that again! I won't leave family behind!"
"Lad." Hook addressed him sharply. But he still did not look behind him to speak directly. It hurt. Emma realized. That he wouldn't look at them. Wouldn't look at her. "I swear to you that I will protect your family with my life. And that goes for you as well. Now do what we say, all three of you."
"Kil-" She slipped. But he had already caught it. And it was enough to bring his head whirling back in her direction."Hook." Emma reaffirmed. Almost beggingly. An icy haze seemingly melted away to leave the warmest watery blues in his eyes when they met hers head on.
"Emma. Please." It was a desperate plea. Coming from a man who managed to make it sound steadier than her own. But his eyes then said everything she needed to know.
This wasn't what he wanted.
Emma opened her mouth to speak but someone else beat her to it.
"You've given us quite the run. But there's no where left for you to hide now." A voice announced. Echoing from all different directions. From where, they couldn't pinpoint. "It's time to change the game now that we've won." The Lost One's appeared from out of the trees. Carrying weapons of all sorts. Coming toward them slowly and confidently. In the lead was the boy Emma recognized to be Felix, but he wasn't the one speaking this time around. "Isn't that right boys?"
A chill ran down her spine, as she could definitely guess as to who was now.
And from above came the boy who they'd all been battling against but never had the chance to face. His feet came to hover a foot or two above the ground to be directly in the eye level of Hook's. "Isn't that right mate?" Hook's entire posture stiffened. Gripping the handle of his sword tighter.
The smile Pan wore was as nasty as Emma had ever seen on that of an adult, and as his eyes swept over the rest of them, they we're cold and calculative. When they settled on Henry, the smile grew wide. It made her stomach turn, protective instinct drove her to shield him away from it.
The boy laughed.
"So you are Emma Swan. Henry's true mother." Pan called out over Killian's head. "What power. Luckily for me you've yet to harness such a potential." He hovered further up to drop back down to the forest floor about ten or so feet away. His grace in the motion was unearthly natural in how he moved.
"And quite a beauty as well." He cocked his head to the side his grin taking on another onset of cruelty. "Now I understand the interest the dear Ol'Captain Hook has in all of this boys. Please, enlighten us Capt. What is it with you and mothers? Trying to fill the void of never having one yourself?" The small army of boys snickered behind they're leader. "Hadn't you already learned that lesson with 'The Crocodiles Wife.'" He mocked. Changing the pitch and accent in his tone to mimic that of Killian's. "Because we all know how that ended don't we? Her heart that she so willingly gave to you. Was crushed by the husband you stole her from. If you ask me mate, I think you got what you deserve. Nasty thing to do, breaking up a family and all. You had no right."
"You Shut Your Gob!" Hook snapped. The venom in his voice lashing out to the air surrounding him, and something inside of Emma clenched painfully to hear him sound that way. But Pan seemed completely un-phased by the outburst. Instead he seemed wholly amused by it, his shoulders shaking in a silent laugh.
"And yet here you are." He went on. Shaking his head. "Protecting her grandson. Whilst parting longing looks to his mother like some lovesick boy. Are you so desperate for family Jones? That you're willing to fill in the shoes of another man? And of the same family tree of your dear Milah. Or is this another sad ploy for revenge on a dead man? Couldn't be a father to his son so you'll settle for his next of kin. Tell me, what would Baelfire think if he knew you were trying to take his place? While at that same time, trying to replace the one of his mother's with the woman he loved?"
Hook moved quicker than any of them could have anticipated. Sword clashing with a dagger Pan had whipped out of thin air, to block the oncoming attack. The little bastard was still smiling. Like this was the most fun he could possibly have. Emma felt the impulse to move forward toward the two, but the reminder of Henry and of those who looked on in cheer held her back.
They swapped blow after blow at each other, dancing in lock step, the other always staving off the next point of attack blade against blade. So loud, that the metal cried out in harsh ear wrenching clangs. Emma was almost sure that the swords would break under the pressured collision. And in a move the villain would always pull when the opportunity arose, Pan unsheathed another blade from his hip and used it to sweep across Hook's cheek.
"Like old times, aye?" Pan smirked. As blood spilled out from the cut and down the side of his face.
"Aye." But Killian merely smirked right back at him, having used his own window of opportunity-in a move done before anyone could blink- he had gotten his hook over the boy's outstretched wrist and yanked it down. Dropping his sword. He let his fist fly hard into Pan's face. The smacking crunch of bone and skin resounding throughout the air. There was an immediate hush over the crowd of lost boy's who had gathered around them. "Just like old times." He said calmly. Bringing the heel of his boot to the boys chest to push him off and away.
Pan landed just above the ground. A grimace set over his split bloody lip. Felix made a move forward but stopped when his leader put a hand out to hault him. "We came for the boy. Not to settle an old score." Killian shrugged the blood off his face with the sleeve of his coat and picked up his sword from the ground. His stance ready to take the all at once. Pan ignored it shifting his glance to the rest of them. His eyes settling purchase once more on Henry as he continued. "Turn him over to us and you have my word that no more blood will be spilt."
"Like hell." Emma spat.
David shifted behind them in the straightest stance he could manage."Not gonna happen."
"That's never going to happen." Mary Margaret agreed fiercely.
"Not while I stand." Killian announced as if it was sworn oath.
Pan scoffed. Dimples peaking out from the amused expression that took over his face. "Grown ups never learn do they? Get them."
They charged without hesitation. A portion of the group divided from the rest, following orders from Felix to take on Hook. Emma watched on, heart in her throat, as the carved weapons of wood and bone outnumbered his one blade. And then he was no longer in her line of sight, the rest reaching their ground. An arrow from her mother's bow shot out piercing one boys shoulder before he could shoot his own, launching another to the one at her right. He dodged it. Coming in on Mary Margaret, dagger raised high. She spun to her right, Grabbing the back of his hood and twisting it back hard. Using the boy's weight against him as he toppled over onto his back.
The others rounded on Emma and Henry, flanking in on them from behind to take David out first, managing it in a matter of seconds. Emma made a move to come to his aid but he shook his head from where he laid. His eyes focused on those around her.
"Don't. Emma Run." He heaved in shallow shuddered breaths.
"DAVID?!" Mary Margaret shouted over Emma's shoulder. Followed by the sound of her collapse, one of the boys stood over her, club raised.
"Snow!" Never before had she heard David sound so pained.
But Emma couldn't help her father, or her mother now, nor could she run. The chance for escape was long gone. Rooted to the ground, she and Henry stood back to back, sword raised, as The Lost One's closed in, with Pan just above them. Triumph gleaming in his glittering eyes. Even as she beat back his boys. He looked down on them as if this was a fight he had already won. Roaming from one fallen hero to the next. He sighed then.
"Their stories are legendary." He spoke as if to himself. "It be a shame to their names to leave it all here. I'm offering you one last chance girl. Give up your son and we'll allow you and your loved ones to live."
"And let you take him away to fuel your sick and twisted operation here?! I don't think so." Her hands weren't shaking from the adrenaline rushing in her veins now. No. She was going to cut this fucking brat down if it was the last thing she ever did.
Pan huffed. "Very well." With a wave of his hand a shadow pooled underneath his feet. Rising up off of the ground and vaulting toward them both. Emma shut her eyes and breathed deep. Conjuring all the emotion she could.
Walls Up.
The shadow bounced off the crackling barrier that appeared from the ground and over, surrounding them. Pan seemed the slightest bit impressed, as if her actions are what had pleased him.
Smiling he said. "I think you missed a spot."
The shadow fell back on the ground, merging with it, stretching outward till it reached underneath her feet-and shot back up taking hold. The barrier she had managed to maintain falling away. The Shadow wrapped it's arms around Emma's in a grip stronger than that of a vice. Tighter and tighter until it was almost difficult to breathe. "Hen-r-y! G-Get A-way!"
"Let her go!" Henry screamed. Swinging his sword out across the others.
Henry! Baby please, Just Go!
"Restrain him." Pan called out barely glancing in Henry's direction. His eyes we're still trained on Emma. Studying her with the slightest twinge of pity.
"EMMA?!" Killian's cry reached her ears. But only just. The roaring ring becoming almost deafening as her vision began to blur. Yet somehow her eyes we're able to find his across the field. He was on the ground, the side of his face smashed to the forest floor. It had taken five boys to pin him down. And still he struggled and fought against them and the bonds they we're attempting to tie him with.
Killian...
Images came to the forefront of her clouding vision from all the times before. Of his cockiness, flirtations, to his support and kindness. To that one kiss on the beach under the bright white moon. All of it adding to the unshakable aching heaviness seizing her chest. Because now, with the hell descending on them all, she couldn't help but think at that very moment.
Was that all we we're ever going to have? No.
And it was then that Emma allowed herself out of denial to acknowledge the simple truth.
She had been falling for him. She had been falling in love with Captain Hook. With Killian Jones. And it was too late now...it was too late for them. It was too late to let him know how much he had come to mean to her.
Pan glided down to where Emma had fallen. "You know. You we're supposed to be legendary yourself. Savior of The Enchanted Forest. But because you didn't know when to give up, you'll never live to see that time. A waste of potential. A waste of magic really." He tsked."So how about I take it?" And reached a hand out to her face.
"NO! DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!" Hook screamed. Torrid and anguished.
Tears slipped through her lashes. Just as callused dirty fingers touched her cheek. The pull pulsing from her skin into his would have caused her to fall if she hadn't been on her knees already. Oxygen failing her. Pan was stealing her magic, along with the last vestiges of strength she had left.
I'm so sorry Henry.
And just as Emma's world turned dark. It stopped.
"Release her." A voice spoke out. One she didn't recognize.
Emma fought to open her eyes. Willing them to focus when she finally could. And there standing at Pan's side was a Lost One, with a sword held at his commanders throat.
What The Hell?
"Release her I said, before I cut you a new one." And the surprising thing was, he did. Shadow and all. Emma fell onto her hands. Gasping for air. She didn't understand. This Lost Boy looked like all the rest. Hooded and face cloaked. But there was something off about his voice. Despite it's demanding edge the tenor was a pitch higher than what should sound normal...it almost sounded like a girl.
For the first time since she'd laid her eyes on the infamous Pan he wore an expression that was not only shocked, but visibly shaken, right to the bone.
"You." He uttered grudgingly.
"Me." Her rescuer affirmed. Pulling back the hood and cloth, revealing a girl who could be no older than fifteen. Blonde doll like curls fell around her pretty face in waves. Stunned silence fell over them all. And then one by one Emma was able to make out the astonished murmurs that traveled from one boy to the next..
"It's Wendy."
As in Peter and Wendy?! Wendy Darling?
"Good. Now release the others." She ordered. Applying the slightest bit of pressure to his neck. A trickle of blood ran down the blade. Wendy smiled somewhat bitterly. Pan clenched his fist, hissing out through clenched teeth. Immobilizing completely.
"Squid Ink."
"Yes. How astute of you to remember Peter."
"I banished you." Wendy scoffed.
"Funny thing about banishment on an island, it dosen't exactly hold up when there's no where else left to go to. Now," she paused unsheathing another sword from her hip to point at his stomach. "call off your boys. Please."
"Do as she says men."
Henry rushed to her side as they both looked onward at the scene unfolding before them. Wendy's gaze flickered to the others that still we're holding Hook captive. "I believe your leader gave you an order. I suggest you follow before it becomes the last one he'll ever make." Reluctantly, one after the other moved off of Hook, while either sending the girl a seething gaze or looking somewhat confused or astounded over her threats. Felix being a combination of the three. As he was the last one to move, his staff still holding Killian by the neck. "Don't make me Felix." She called out. Sadness laced somewhere in the hard spoken words.
"Captain." She acknowledged. Her eyes never leaving Pan's.
Coming to stand beside her, he nodded his. "Miss Darling."
"Whatever it is you think you're doing Wendy, it won't help. That boy, belongs to me. And his family, his friends, don't stand a chance, and neither do you."
"I'm sorry," She quiped. Dragging the tip of her sword shallowly across his skin. "But I believe I'm the one with the advantage here?"
"For now. But your're still outnumbered and we both know you won't kill me. Always so good and true. You don't have it in that angelic fair and just heart of yours. No matter how much you may convince yourself otherwise. You alone. Won't make a difference."
Cocking her head to the side, she asked him, somewhat brilliantly. "Who says I'm alone?"
Out from the corner of her eyes, Emma caught sight of five bright colorful lights taking shape, of that of women and men on the edges of the forest. Wings protruding from their backs. Fairies. They Reached Emma and her family in a matter of seconds. Movement followed, and emerging from the trees were children. Of all ages. Armed from spears, crossbows, to daggers, and swords. Each one aimed pointedly in Pan's direction. And from beneath the fabric of Wendy's robe flickered one light that was golden, glowing brighter as it began to grow. Leaving a beautiful blonde fair skinned woman, dressed in lace and the palest green in it's place, standing between Wendy and Pan.
Emma didn't need to guess to know who she was.
"No." He whispered disbelievingly.
"Peter." She addressed him solemnly. "I'm sorry."
"How could you do this to me?!" He shouted. Sounding like that of a heartbroken child. "How?! TRAITOR!" He accused.
"I had to. This has to end. It's gone on long enough. You left me no other choice."
"You promised me! You swore!"
"I never promised to help you take the heart of an innocent." She fired back.
"Nothing Is Innocent!" He screamed violently.
"Not after it's witnessed true evil, no. But that's no excuse for what you've done. The lives you took. The children you have kidnapped. The time you've stolen. The people you have betrayed. I should have put a stop to all of it long ago."
"You dare speak of betrayal to me?!" He roared. "Dirty traitor! As soon as I'm free I'll cut off your wings."
"So be it, but for now I will be leaving you, and I'm taking them with me." Without another word or glance in his direction the fairy waved her wand over head, gold flecks fell from above. Pixie dust. Covering every span of space and person that opposed Pan and his Lost One's, the dust pausing mid air in collection, taking on the form of that of a dome. One of the fairy men lifted Mary Margaret into his arms as the other woman and man helped carry David to his feet. The dust glimmered in rivets over them. Like a beacon waiting for it's next cue. "Wendy," Tink spoke quietly. "It's time to go."
"I won't forget this." Pan bit out at the girl. "I won't give you any leniency or mercy like before, the next time we meet-"
"Yes, I know. In fact I'm counting on it this time." She whispered in parting. Letting the blades fall away and taking Tink's outstretched hand.
The ground shifted, the scenery before her changed from one open part of jungle to a dense forest atop a hillside, overlooking what looked to be a small village of some sort. the scene of Pan's Lost Boy's racing toward them fell away like a bad dream, only it hadn't been that. Emma had been awake for every single moment of it. Even the part where she had almost died.
She really had almost died, hadn't she?
"Mom!" Henry cried out. Throwing his arms around her. "I was so afraid you we're going to..." He didn't finish. He couldn't. For a moment everyone standing near and beside them were quiet.
She almost had...They all knew. Emma tried to blink back the oncoming set of tears that threatened to spill over, only to find distraught sea like blues staring back. Killian was standing across from her against a tree, breathing heavily, having that very same depth of pain in his eyes that Henry's voice let out. Running her fingers through his brown locks she told him, both of them. "I'm okay." she whispered. "I'm okay."
"Emma Swan." The male fairy addressed her. "Your mother." He said whilst looking down at the woman he held in his arms. "is only unconscious. She will be fine. Your fathers condition however is a bit more complex." He explained. Giving a look to the other two fairies who were steadily making their way down the hillside. "He needs to be treated right away to get a full look at the extensiveness of his injury."
"Boys." Tink turned to the children. "Go, help prepare clean beds for the King and Queen. Get out any provisions we have for injury's." Quickly they all hurried down the trail after the others.
Wendy leaned down next to Emma, giving her a gentle smile as if they were the oldest of friends. Not that it bothered Emma one bit at this point. She probably would be after this, the teenage girl had just saved her life. And her family's. Wendy reached out a hand to Henry however, moving the hair away from his face. He lifted his head up at her gesture.
"Henry, are you alright?" She asked him, genuinely concerned.
He sniffed. Nodding. "You saved her. Thank you."
"There's no need for thanks. It was the right thing to do. I only wish I could have done it sooner."
"Are you alright?" Emma heard Tink ask, but it wasn't to either of them. She was talking to Killian.
"I'm fine." He gritted out tersely.
"You don't look fine. Your face. That's going to scar if you don't let me-" She offered, her wand out towards the open gash across his cheek. But he turned away from it and all of them. Progressing down to the houses below in a furious pace. His "Leave it." Hanging in the air long after.
"Stubborn ass." Tink sighed.
"And I would have." Wendy continued. "Come in sooner I mean. The one advantage I could use to thwart Pan was when his feet touched ground, only someone else beat me to it that first time. Not that I blame the Captain. The things he said... "
"Were out of line." Tink finished for her. "I apologize Emma, Henry, I would have choose another way to stop Peter had I known how far it was going to go."
"Thank you. But like Henry said you, both of you, saved us. I'm grateful all the same."The pixie nodded, giving a hand out for Emma to help her stand.
Killian was nowhere to be seen when they reached the bottom of the hill. Not that that surprised Emma. But there was still a pang of an ache that wrapped itself around her ribcage at him not being there. Of what had transpired between them only moments ago. She could still hear his voice calling out to her in panicked pain when Pan almost...She could still see his eyes, desperate and fading. As if he would have died had she.
Emma pushed aside her spiraling emotions for the pirate. Not the time. She chided herself. Her father was the one who needed her right now.
There were three houses, each one set in the tallest willow tree's she'd ever seen, that stretched wide and far up, all of them connected. By lanterns, ropes, bridges and other add on's of wood. Tink led the way in, through a hole in one of the tree's trunks. Steps were waiting just underfoot as was the open door to the inside. The earth that occupied this space was hollow, much like the tree that surrounded it. Steps and ladders led up in different places, to other floors, beds and rooms.
Mary Margaret and David were on the two beds on the grounds level, side by side. Two women of the five fairies that had come to they're aid we're with them. One attending to her mother with a damp cloth onto her forehead, the other working at a quick pace, already having disposed David of his shirt. Steadily smoothing in a paste placed on wraps across the open wound that extended just below his ribcage.
"Are they going to be okay?" Henry asked them.
The two fairies shared a look. "Yes. But your grandfathers injury needs time to rest and time to heal." Looking towards Emma, continuing to place another wrap on the last bit of mutilated flesh she said. "It'll be a few days till he can be on his feet again."
"Can't you heal him with magic?" Emma asked.
The fairy with ebony skin smiled. "This is magic Savior." Emma couldn't help but grimace a little more from the title than at the fairy's actual answer to her question. "Only it's of a different kind. There was a concentrated poison festering within his wound. Waiting to take hold. It would have killed him eventually if it had just been sealed closed. This salve is what will breakdown the infectious toxins. It'll also help him rest."
But a few days?
They constantly had to be on the move before, if they stayed in one place for too long Pan would find them again. Tink seemed to sense her current worries as she leaned in to whisper, "Don't worry Emma he wouldn't dare come here."
"Why not?"
"Too many memories." She admitted somewhat detached. And glided high up elsewhere before Emma could respond.
Wendy came up alongside Henry placing a hand on his shoulder. "Come. You can have my bed tonight Henry." Emma looked over at her son and saw just how completely exhausted he was.
"Go on Kid. I'll be up with you in a minute." She gave him a smile, one he gave back, and watched him follow Wendy up a set of twisted wooden stairs to what she assumed was the girls bedroom. The fairy whose complexion that was much paler than her own, with long ebony hair hanging down to her waist, brought Emma a seat between the two cots. She thanked them both as they stood and left to what she guessed was to give her some privacy. Another thing she ought to thank them for. It was all Emma could do not to breakdown. She took both of her parents hands in her own and breathed deep. Allowing one tear to steadily make it's way down the side of her cheek.
What the hell we're they going to do now?
Her mother stirred. "E-mma?" Groaning when she tried to turn her head.
"Hey. Your awake. Try not to move to much. You took a pretty hard hit."
"I think, I remember that part. What-Uh-Happened? Where are we?"
"Safe. For now. Tinkerbell and Wendy saved us." Now that had to be one of the weirdest things she had ever said. Mary Margret blinked as if trying to process that new bit of information, but the second she turned her head and saw the state her husband was in, she nearly bolted out of the bed. The wet cloth that had been on her forehead, fell into her lap with a plop. Her hand held his face. It was so intimate a gesture to Emma. To see them that way.
"David!" Mary Margaret's cry was close to that of a sob.
"He's going to be okay." She tried to reassure her mother. "The Fairies patched him up, but there was poison in his system. They gave him something for the pain so he could sleep."
"So he's?"
"Fine. He just needs a couple of days rest." Mary Margaret's posture relaxed somewhat. Perking straight back up when she looked around the wide open room in search of her grandson.
"And Henry?"
"I sent him off to bed a little while ago. I should probably go check on him." At her mothers nod Emma made a move to stand when the woman took notice of another missing presence to their party.
"Where's Hook?"
"He's uh, somewhere around here I'm guessing." The words weighed heavy on her tongue. Coming out rushed and nonchalant. And like always Mary Margaret could tell with that mothers instinct of hers, that she was bothered by it.
"And I'm guessing things got worse before they got better, after I got my lights knocked out. Emma? "
Emma shifted on one foot and then to the other. Mulling over whether she should go on ahead and tell her everything. About how she almost died. Realizing in her moment of near death about her growing feelings for said Pirate. The almost dying part alone would send her spiraling.
Yea. I don't think that would be the best way put her at ease. Or to tell her about Hook.
So she settled on "What matters is that we're all okay."
Mary Margaret looked as if she was ready to argue the fact but put a stop to whatever she was about to say. "Okay. But you know your father and Henry will probably tell me when they wake up." It meant to sound like a warning but there was a lightness in her voice. A teasing. Even if that was exactly what happened the next day, she was letting her daughter off the hook. Literally.
Emma shrugged out a smile at her mothers teasing taunt. "Okay. You know, this is probably not the best advice for someone who suffered a concussion but, try to get some rest."
The stairs that Wendy led Henry up were quite narrow. Enough width for one person at a time. Though the steps were uneven and never the same size like the one before it, yet it was steady and hardly unmovable under any amount of weight. It led up to a floor with only one door that was covered by just three walls. The fourth-there wasn't one. It was open to the outside. A net hung over the bottom half in a makeshift railing. It was night again but the view that she could see now captured it all. From the forest they we're now in, to the ruthless jungle that surrounded it, to the jagged mountain slopes, and even farther out to the sea. They're waters glimmering in the moons pale light. Neverland really was beautiful. By far the most beautiful place that Emma had ever been to.
"And that's the lure of this place."
Hook's voice echoed in her mind. Warm and telling. Recalling the night she came to him and their conversation just before she kiss-No. No. No. She couldn't think about that right now. Not now. No matter how much his little disappearing act was getting to her. She rubbed her arm trying to shake the memory away, and continued towards the door. It was slightly ajar. Light peaked out from the inside as did the two conversing voices. Emma paused in the doorway when she heard Henry ask,
"So you knew my dad?"
"Oh yes." Wendy replied brightly. Emma could practically hear the smile she wore. "He was the dearest friend I ever had, and he was very brave. Same as you are now."
The silence that followed was filled with a hesitance and Henry spoke quietly. Sadly. "I always tried to be brave. I thought I was. But now I'm not so sure."
"Of course you're brave Henry. You fight not for yourself, but for your family. If that isn't the truest form of nobility and bravery, than I don't know what is."
Emma smiled at the girl's kind words. She spoke the truth. Neal had always been brave. It's one of the reasons why it had hurt her so badly when she found out the real truth as to why he had abandoned her and why he never came after her, but everything good in Neal he had gave to Henry before and after he became a part of his life. And that was something Emma had always known and been grateful for. Choosing that moment to walk in she smiled at the sight of Henry already tucked in with Wendy sitting on the bed beside him. This was one of the one things that the stories had gotten right. Wendy Darling was a girl that was a mother to all children she met.
"Hey mom." Henry greeted her sleepily.
Wendy stood up at her entrance. Giving Henry one last gentle smile and biding him a "Goodnight Henry." and turned to give her one as well. "Feel free to let me know if you need anything Miss Emma."
"Well for one, you can leave out the Miss." Emma joked.
Wendy laughed. "Of course. Emma then, I'll be downstairs." She left without another word closing the door soundly behind her.
"She's nice." Henry said. "I like her."
"Yea." She agreed. "I think I do too."
The bed was big enough for Henry and Wendy to sit down but it would be a little tight for her to do the same. Instead she took seat to the floor right beside where his head laid. Brushing back the bangs from his face.
"Mom," Henry started. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For what's happening. It's because of me that everyone's dying. Getting hurt." His voice cracking. "I already lost my dad. Grandpa. My mom-"
"Henry. I want you to listen to me. None of this is your fault. None of it. Understand?" Henry said nothing, but nodded when he saw that she was waiting for him to answer. "Regina's still out there. And I promise you Henry that we're going to find her. She won't get left behind."
With all that he had gone through, the last thing her son should be doing is playing the blame game on himself. He seemed to sense her discomfort, changing the subject, which made her smile a little. Because without a doubt, that was something he'd inherited from her.
"How are gram and gramps doing?" He asked a bit more calmly.
"Okay. They just gotta take it easy for a while."
"So should you."
"How about this, when we get back home I'll take that vacation time I've been saving up. We'll go somewhere. Just you and me, and we'll go anywhere you want. How's that sound? " She asked. Already thinking of the different places she could take him.
"Sounds good." He agreed. A small smile breaking past the frown lines. His eyelids drifting between open and shut, after a moment he said. "I've been thinking, about how the stories in our world are really different from what actually is the truth. I mean they couldn't have gotten it more wrong about Peter Pan. He's not a Hero."
"No. He's not." Emma agreed. Resisting the impulse to recoil in disgust. Remembering the face pan had given her right before he attempted to suck the life out of her.
Henry continued a little more fatigued. "So that got me thinking about who is, in this story."
"Tinkerbell and Wendy look like Heroes to me." Emma said.
"Yea. And they are but that isn't who I'm talking about."
"What do you mean?"
"I think Hook's the Hero in this one."
Emma heart quickened the slightest bit in pace at the mention of the man. Fingering with a lose string on his cover she asked him softly.
"You do huh?" Trying to sound as uninterested as she could.
"Yea." He said trying to stifle a yawn. "I mean he's helping us. He got me out of The Den. I don't think he's a bad guy, not like the way the stories make him out to be. I actually think he's kind of cool."
"He's also a pirate." Emma reminded him. Trying her damndest not to smile at her son's reasoning. She knew better than anyone. How much that rang true.
With closed lids he told her. "Just because he's a pirate, doesn't mean he can't be a Hero too."
Now that put Emma at a loss for words. Henry however, didn't say anything else. His breathing evened out as he succumbed to the sleep he'd been staving off. She sat there for the longest time watching his face. Peaceful in slumber. Not being able to process any proper thoughts-more like she was doing her best not to. She had kept trying to push back down the surfacing emotions that she was sure now weren't likely to go away anytime soon, and Henry's last words to her-still present in her ears-were like the go ahead she'd been secretly waiting for.
Biting the inside of her cheek she made a decision. One she wasn't exactly sure about. But it's not like she hadn't gone looking for him before. Picking herself up from off the floor, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to Henry's forehead, and blew out the candle on the bedside table.
Emma made sure to be a silent as possible as she made her way back down the stairs. The candlelight had been doused somewhat. The small murmur of hushed voices greeted her as she made her way below. Wendy and Mary Margaret we're speaking, a few of the children from earlier were with them. Seated on the floor around the two beds Either listening intently on what was being discussed or exchanging words of their own.
Probably informing her mother on everything she missed.
So much until the morning. Emma thought somewhat guiltily. But her descent to the lower floor had gone unnoticed by the group, so she continued on out towards the passage she had come through as stealthily as she was able. It worked, and a part of her felt a little guilty by the way she was going about this. Sneaking out like she had something to hide. But she just wasn't ready to confront this with anyone other that herself, and that was a struggle enough as it was.
Each step she took forward. A warning bell shrilled. Every coached instinct whispering that this wasn't the best of ideas. It was these same instincts that had kept her heart safe all these years.
Walk away. Push it aside. Never get involved. Don't look back.
And here she was blindly rushing forward. To what? She had no fucking clue. But she had to talk to him. Get it straight. And figure out what the hell it was they we're doing. Emma stopped dead in her tracks just as she reached the outside, the night air breezing by in whisper. What were they doing?
"He's sulking." A voice as smooth as a chime called out from above. Tinkerbell. Emma turned her gaze upward finding the fairy perched upon some extended chunk of hallowed out bark. She had her arms crossed. Lips in something close to a pout. Her eyes focused on the sky.
"What's that?" Emma asked trying to appear as if she hadn't heard her the first time. Tinkerbell gave her the very quizzical look that plainly said she wasn't buying the act.
"Hook." She clarified. Hopping down next her with barely a bend at the knee."He's still upset." Pointing a finger out towards the horizon in direction she told Emma. "You'll find him over by the meadows creek. It's about thirty or so paces to your right just over the hill. Can't miss it."
Emma hoisted the strap of her sword in an effort to appear indifferent. Not able to really look the other woman in the eyes."I guess I should check up on him." Arms crossed once again Tink shrugged her shoulders upwards, but there was a smile hidden in the corners of her lips.
"I think that would be best." Emma nodded and took about a step or two down the way the fairy had directed. Tinkerbell called out to her before she could go any farther. "Emma." Tink was looking down at her crossed feet, as if trying to find the right thing to say. After another moment of saying nothing the woman huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her face. "You know today, I've never seen him like that. In all the years I've known Killian I've never seen him so..."
"Angry?" Emma offered.
"Scared." Tinkerbell finished. Looking directly at her now. "He really cares for you, if not more than that."
The absolute concern in his azure eyes from earlier just before he'd gone off on his own registered clear in Emma's mind. But the way he'd separated from them all right after? How else was she suppose to take that? Unable to stop the words from tumbling past her worried lips she asked Tink,
"Then why is he avoiding me?" God, she hated how unsure she sounded.
"You have doubts." Tinkerbell stated aloud in new found understanding. "Emma, don't. Killian is just, upset with himself. For not being able to do more to protect you."
"I don't need to be protected." Emma stated. Annoyed by the very suggestion of it.
Tinkerbell graced her with a wry smile. Stepping forward to grip Emma's shoulder in assurance. "I'm very much aware. As much as he is I'm quite sure, since he's never really fancied a woman of the dainty sort. But that doesn't mean he feels any less terrible for how helpless a situation it escalated into being. So he's blaming himself for not being able to have changed the outcome."
First Henry and now Hook. It was really starting to piss her off that the people she cared about kept putting themselves at fault.
"The only person whose to blame here is-"
"Peter. I know." Tinkerbell's hand fell away as her expression and gaze shifting to one more troubled and less kind. It wasn't a look for her, Emma knew, but she had been the one to say it. There was obviously a deep history between the two here and Emma could tell that it was taking an emotional toll on the fairy, before she could apologize for her blunt choice of words. Tinkerbell continued. "I swear to you Emma. He won't get Henry." Offering up a small smile in her vow, and turned back to zoom up to the perch she had been occupying before.
"Thank you."
The fairy nodded. Her crystal like eyes looking back up to the night sky. "Oh and Emma?"
"Yea?" Emma asked as she turned her head back toward the woman.
Tinkerbell kept her gaze looking out above, but a wide cat like grin came across her face."Take your time. I'll make sure no one ventures out to bother the two of you."
Emma gaped. Mouth open and wide eyed at the implication in Tinkerbell's voice.
"I-That's Not-We're Not- Haven't." She stammered.
Tink giggled. "Mmmhmmm." If it was even possible, the smile on the fairy's face grew. Leaning back to lay overstretched, with a palm under her chin, she ushered out with her other hand. "Go on then."
For the exception of the few crickets hidden somewhere in the long grass, everything around her was relatively quiet. It reminded her of a calm right before the storm. Not even the sound of lost children could be heard in the air tonight. But Emma remained vigilant as she trecked through the bit of forest that led down to the meadow Tink had described. She could see the way the trees opened up and let out into the clearing, she could also hear the distinct babbling flow of running water.
Emma stopped just short of entrance into the meadow. Instantly she found him. He was crouched down beside the creek, from what she could tell he was looking down into the waters reflection, at himself. A look of disdain marring his handsome features. She stood there for the briefest of moments. Studying him. It was odd how much calmer she felt now while at the same time feeling like her heart would hammer itself right out of her chest.
Ah Hell.
I'm in such deep shit.
Running a hand through the mess that was her hair she squared her shoulders. Breathing in deep.
It's now. Or never.
Her steps were slow and cautious. Not wanting to alert him to her presence if at any second she chose to bow out and head back to the tree houses to where it was safe. This, she knew was incredibly dangerous ground to walk on. If she wasn't careful she'd fall right through, and she couldn't take the chance that he'd be there to catch her. No matter how badly she wanted him to.
Caught up in that truth she took another step without looking and a twig beneath her boot snapped in half. She cringed. It's crack rang loud enough for Hook's attention, he twisted around to face her. Judging by the surprise that flashed across his face and the way he had been ready to jump to his feet, hand on the handle of his sword. He hadn't been expecting her. More like he had expected a fight.
"Hi." She said lamely. He raised an unamused eyebrow at her greeting.
Great opening there Em.
"Swan. What are you doing out here?" There was something off in the way he acknowledged her. He hardly ever called her Swan anymore when it was just the two of them, unless it had some teasing hint of affection. But the way he said it now was harsh, like her presence was unwanted. It made her want to punch him in that pretty face of his.
"Looking for you, actually." His brows furrowed. Looking back down to the water below. He looked as if he wanted nothing to do with her.
"Shouldn't you be with your boy? Your parents?" He asked. Tone clipped.
Seriously?
"I was." She stated bitingly. She couldn't help herself, his attitude was beginning to tick her off considerably. He noticed. Those baby blues of his flickering to the where she stood before quickly returning back to the creek. "I put Henry to sleep already. And they're resting." Well her father was anyways.
He didn't have a reply for her after that. And resumed to the way he had been before he saw her. Pensive and unmoving. Lost in his own private thoughts. Looking in any direction but hers. Emma scoffed. Dropping down to his level and easing back on her heels. He gave no indication that he was aware but she knew better. It was then that Emma caught his reflection in the water, a mirror couldn't have been any clearer. The gash across his cheek was no longer bleeding, though still open.
Emma sighed. Irritation momentarily forgotten, she shifted about, a tad bit more closer to where he sat, reaching out somewhat cautiously, she uttered softly. "Don't move. I want to try something." Without giving him a chance to ask as to what it was she had meant Emma pressed her hand to his cheek.
As soon as she did, all the hardness he'd been exuding seemed to melt away. The simple touch of her skin on his as she conjured enough magic to heal the wound, reverberated within them both. She felt that. And from the way he stared at her unabashedly with awe, told her that so did he. A pale light from the tips of her fingers seeped into his skin. Glowing around the angry red edges until they faded back to the appropriate tone and color. The cut seemingly closed seconds after. Leaving no trace behind. Emma smiled triumphantly. It fell short when his hand came up to cradle hers.
Time seemed to stop.
Hook-Killian looked at her without guard. With a reverence that would have left her staggering had she been standing, as she was able to see every bit of the man that she had come to care for in the time of knowing him. The man behind the Hook. Lost and alone who was just as broken as she was. Then he was gone, taking his her hand away from his face and slipping away from her again. Back behind sheltered walls that she knew oh so well.
He stood. With his back to her and said, "Well you've found me Swan. So let's head back before it get's any later, shall we?" He said over his shoulder. To then face away from her completely. Going on ahead.
Emma stood, her irritation rising up once again despite his turn now for a friendly disposition. He was shutting her out once more. She knew that better than anyone. This was not what she had come here to do but her frustration won over all. Hell she was Angry at him. "Would you please just stop it already?!" Her shout coming out much louder than she had meant it to but it worked, as he stopped and swung back around to face her.
"Excuse me?" He asked agitation bubbling just beneath the surface in his voice.
"Stop with the martyr act. It's royally pissing me off.-"
"Well we wouldn't want to do that now would we Princess." He said with dripping sarcasm.
"Don't! Call me that." She snapped. "And don't change the subject. What happened today-"
"Swan." He cut in sternly, but she wouldn't let him begin to argue back before she had even finished.
"No. You don't need, or get to explain it to me because I understand perfectly." She flailed exasperatedly.
"Do you?" He asked tersely. Anger creeping it's way into the question.
"Yea I do. Get over it." Emma stated in finality.
He blinked. Once. Twice. Before his face contorted in a mask of rage, his temper rearing it's ugly head. The way his voice boomed was unexpected, making her jump.
"Get Over It?! Just Get Over It?!" He shouted at her.
She rebuffed with,"I believe that's what I said yea. Whatever guilt it is that you're feeling, get over it! There was nothing you or any of us could have done to change what happened! It's not you fault!" In one stride in the time it would have taken him for two, he invaded her space. His hot breath fanning across her cheeks while his good hand gripped her arm in a hold that was indeed painful.
"Bloody Hell Woman! I ALMOST LOST YOU!" He roared in her face. Yet it was the way he sounded that left Emma speechless. Absolutely pained. "All of you." He choked out. The grip around her arm loosened but didn't let go. His voice dropping to a near agonizing whisper. "I was never more terrified in my entire life than I was today. Not even when-" Abruptly he pulled away. But Emma saw the way his gaze passed over his left forearm, the place where his tattoo resided beneath the leather and sleeve. She tried to find something to say, anything, but came up empty.
Milah.
He was referring to Milah. And he had loved her...
So much so, that he had spent the last three hundred years mourning her death, motivated by the sole thirst for revenge.
It was a startling revelation that he was blatantly expressing what he felt without having to say it at all.
"And I have no right." He added. Spitting out Pan's earlier taunt with unconcealed bitterness.
Emma tried to will away the beginning's of tears she hadn't even become aware of, she could still feel the indent of his fingers, the warmth from the inside of his palm leaving a burn where he had touched. Gathering enough nerve, she asked him incredulously. "You're letting the words of a flying pubescent brat get to you?"
Killian huffed out a spiteful laugh. "Makes it no less true, love." His fist clenched, as he bore a grin that held none of the boyish charm she'd grown so accustom to where he was concerned. It was tight and almost faltering."I'm not Bael-" He stopped. "I'm not Neal." Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to swallow back the acidic tone that slipped through his gritted teeth. "I'm not Henry's father."
"And is what Pan said supposed to mean something?!" She asked biting back the tears. Failing to do so. Hook whipped his head back in her direction looking at her as if she had smacked him clean across the face.
"He left me! Neal abandoned me! So I could save everyone else! So he couldn't be found! Last I checked that was a decision he made all on his own! And he made it years ago!" She cried out hoarsely. To the point we're she could hardly recognize her voice because of how frail and broken it sounded. She paused. Hands on her hips. Shaking her head she told him a little more controlled. "You know, I couldn't help but think after I found that out, that maybe there could have been another way. One where he wouldn't ever have left me alone, where we could have been together and broke the curse. Had Henry and been a real family. Because then he'd still be here. He'd still be alive. But he never considered any of those options or the right he had to fight for his place in my life. Instead he chose to run! So tell me how it matters when he's the one who left me?!"
And then silence.
God. Awful. Silence.
Throughout the entirety of her tirade Hook had stayed rooted to the ground he stood upon. Tears ran down her face freely now. This confession was one she had never braved out loud to anyone, not even herself till now. Yet it had always been there since she came to find that the worst experiences in her life were caused by the doings of others, who made decisions for her, without ever having given her a choice of her own. She was done being a pawn.
The tension from before-though waned-shifted into something else entirely and it was nearly palpable. Hastily she tried to wipe away the tears that continued to fall despite her best efforts to keep them at bay.
As Emma was sure she fit the profile of emotional basket case right about now. As he had yet to look away from her. Something very much like sympathy in his eyes. And Emma wanted to hate him for it. She didn't want his pity or anyone else's. Pride somewhat stung she twisted her tear stained face away from his view.
The soft crunch of grass in her direction alerted her to his coming and from her peripheral vision she saw him nearing closer. Too close. But Emma was unable to move away. Or maybe she was just tired of walking away from this. Walking away from him.
Voice low he admitted reverently "I never would have." and it was Emma's only warning. His movements being too quick to anticipate what his intentions were until it was too late. And even then she's not exactly sure that she would have stopped it, his good hand was at the back of her neck, caressing the skin along the nape of her hair. Tilting her face upwards to meet his own. The ice like hues of his irises flashing like lightning in a storm. Filled with promise, he declared passionately. "Emma," He said. Finally speaking her name. "I never will."
His lips slammed down on hers as if he couldn't hold the urge back any longer. It was shocking as well as welcomed. How rough and heated it was. Unlike their first kiss, where she had been the one to initiate the contact. That had been chaste, closed mouth and slow. One press of lips moving against the other. There was nothing chaste and slow about the way they kissed now. A clash of lip teeth and tongue. Warring against the other in desperate struggle. Each of them expressing everything they wanted to say and all that they hadn't been able. Hook kissed like he was drowning in her, or maybe it was the other way around. Emma felt too light headed to be sure as his tongue slid against hers.
A soft dull thud sounded at her feet and dimly it registered in Emma's consciousness that her sword along with his had fallen off her shoulder, his hook pressed into the center of her back then, his arm wrapping around to haul her body forward and to have her as close as she could possibly be. With her chest pressing into his. Her hands traveled up to rest on his shoulders, grasping fist fulls of leather. The fingers on her neck glided up into her hair. Indulging in it's softness before cradling her head to shift in angle. Thoroughly kissing her in ways she'd never once allowed herself to dream about. Now she was living it and it was making her knees weak. Silly and ridiculous as that was, they began to bend without her consent. In an effort to keep steady she wound her arms around his neck. But the man was relentless in his assault. Releasing her from the kiss, he trailed his hot lips across the side of her mouth, down a path along her neck. The scruff from his beard scratched at the skin there pleasingly. Emma tried to breathe as best she could. Her heart was hammering away within her ribcage. His attentions at her neck making her head spin. Only for him to drag his lips back up and kiss her hard on the mouth once more. His teeth nipping at her bottom lip in between gently laving it with his tongue. Humming his approval when she bit back. A leg pushed forward in the space between her two. And she felt him.
Really felt him.
Emma gasped. Rolling her hips forward. Killian wretched his mouth away from hers. Those bright blue eyes of his as wild as she'd ever seen them. Crystal clear, and the slightest bit dilated, his breath labored, mingling with hers. His hand slipped away from the back of her head and cupped her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip. To only then take a step back, putting space between them. But she held fast to the lapels of his coat. Not ready to let him go.
"Emma" There was a distinct warning in the way he said her name. Part growl. Part plea.
"Don't." She whispered. Emma almost cringed at how desperate she sounded. Maybe she was a little. She hadn't come to him for this. But her brush with death put things into perspective. She'd gone so long without allowing herself a respite when it came to those around her, for the single reason of knowing that they couldn't possibly understand what it was she truly felt. The bitter disconnect. The ever present ache of loneliness. But he did. And always had since the moment they met. In truth, this had been a long time coming for them. So why stop now? "Please."
His nostrils flared with the quick intake of breath at the implication. The muscle in his cheek ticking, eyes shutting in an attempt at what she figured to be restraint. When he opened them-his eyes-which could usually be so cold-with the color that they were-took on the form of a bright blaze. Ice tinged orbs running over her form and leaving a burning trail in it's wake. Kindling the stokes of a flame that was thrumming within her.
Like liquid fire. She thinks absently.
He studies her closely. And she resists the habit of turning away from him, never able to hold eye contact with him for long. Because he could always see past her defenses. And none we're present now. He'd all but stripped them away.
"Do you know what it is you're asking of me?" His voice was quieter. But in no way did it conceal the growing desire he was wrestling with.
She swallowed. "I think I have a pretty good idea."
The tip of his hook lifted her chin. Garnishing the seriousness of his intentions. The chilled metal sent a shiver down her spine."We do this. And it won't be just the one time. Not for me." Another warning. He was giving her a chance to back out of this while she still had it.
Emma took the tip of his hook in hand and brought the other to the back of his skull. Pushing forward on the tips of her toes, and by a fist full of hair, slanted her lips over his. He responded instantaneously. But when he tried to deepen it she pulled away by the slightest fraction. Her lips touching his as she spoke.
"Does that answer your question?"
Hook chose not to give her one this time. The telltale hints of affection and affliction broke through the lust heavy stare before he claimed her lips again in an almost punishing kiss. Plundering her mouth in true pirate fashion, with each bite, and thrust of his tongue. Moaning appreciatively when she caught it between her teeth and sucked.
Maybe this was wrong. What they we're doing. About to do, but since when had anything ever gone right in her life?
Because for once, it sure as hell felt like the opposite.
Emma didn't say it but she wanted the same. A future. If she had one past this place, she wanted him to be part of it. And she tried her best to express that to him in the way she kissed back. Her hands trembling as she threaded them through his hair and pulled as she writhed her hips against his leather covered erection-that left little to the imagination.
Christ.
A whine escaped the back of her throat when his hand wandered down the side of her waist-and lowered-to her ass. Squeezing none to gently in response. Making her aware of how wet she was getting. The throbbing burn between her legs turning near to unbearable. Again she grinded herself against him to try and relieve the persistent pangs. In kind Hook repeated his earlier action with another deliberate squeeze around her ass cheek, and reciprocated her movements. Causing a delicious and frustrating friction.
That just wasn't enough.
Apparently they we're in mutual agreement on that part, as he broke away, and dropped to his knees in front of her. Yanking her thighs apart with his hook and hand. The abruptness of his actions causing Emma to lose her balance, having to steady herself with a firm grip on his shoulders. Killian stared back up at her, his piercing gaze never wavering as his 'hands' skimmed up the path to the top of her jeans. Popping the button with just his thumb, while slipping his hook in, tugging them down her legs in one swoop. The denim bunching around the tops of her boots. The cool silver and gold of the rings on his fingers, and the metal of his hook on her bare heated skin is almost too much for her to keep still.
Hook's attention flickers down to her underwear. They weren't anything special. Just a plain pair of black cotton panties. But he stares at them like she's wearing the skimpiest piece of lingerie. He leans in. His tongue pressed at his lower lip. The tip of his nose grazing her center through the thin material. Emma feels her legs begin to shake. Her head hanging slightly when those fingers of his press upwards against her cloth covered entrance in teasing back and forth motions.
She's positive-even with her underwear in the way- he can feel just how wet she is. Watching her face as her hips begin to rock in time with his hand. Stopping when her eyes begin to drift shut. A smirk curling the edge of his mouth when she looks back down on him with a look caught somewhere between irritated and wanting. The smirk transforms into an outright smile that borders on what can only be described as devious. Emma knows right then, he's not about to play fair. And he doesn't prove her wrong.
With a flick of his wrist he yanks her panties to the side. Surging forward. His mouth hot on her aching flesh. Skillfully parting her inner lips with clever fingers. Seeking out her clit with his tongue. Finding it without much trouble.
A high pitched wail permits the night air. Hers. And Hook doesn't stop this time around when she shuts her eyes and throws her head back. Her moans filling the space they occupy.
A moan of his own vibrates throughout her core when his tongue slides up inside her. Tasting her.
Fucking her, with his mouth. It's almost too much for Emma. And at the same time, still not goddamn enough. And it's not that she wants more. No. She needs it.
Struggling through her ecstasy induced haze, she manages to pull herself up right-her hands-which at some point made their way into his hair-grip him by the roots and pull him back away from her. Gritting her teeth at how strongly the lower half of her objects to the abrupt halt of his pleasurable attentions. A whimper of discomfort simpers past her heaving and parted lips. Even more so when she finds Hook staring back up at her. His lips glistening with her arousal. Eyes shown brimmed with the slightest confusion but the same passion she's experiencing is reflected tenfold, and it makes her ache for him all the more.
"Enough with the foreplay." Emma rasped out.
She almost expects him to make a quip in the way that he does everything else. But he doesn't. He raises a brow. Before his hand and hook quickly skim down the back of her knees, adding a firm bout of pressure that has her toppling right onto him.
"For now." He states with promise.
For now.
She barely gets in her nod before they're clawing at one another once more. The taste of herself on his tongue has her squirming on his lap. He's so hard under her, she can't help but rub herself against him like a wanton bitch in heat and it's maddening-the way the leather slides between her slick folds. He mimic's her motions with just as much enthusiasm. But his thrusts are strained by the restriction of his pants. Never stopping the titillating swivel of her hips. Emma tries to help divest him of his coat first. Pushing it down his arms as quickly as possible. His lips refusing to leave hers when he bows slightly to shrug out of the heavy garment, tossing it off to the side. Her hands already working on the buckles of his vest. Fiddling with the clasps until they release, parting down the middle. And it has to be enough for now. As he's shifting forward, his weight pressing hers into the soft grass.
It's awkward. As her lower legs are trapped, her pants unable to get past her boots. Though in no way does it deter either of them. Killian pauses in kissing her, twisting away to help ease the situation as quickly as possible. Emma hears a few stitches in the seam rip, when he's able to shred her of her right pant leg, along with the boot attached. Even her sock is dragged off from the force of it.
And it's enough for now. As she's dragging his willing body back to her. Locking an arm around his neck while the other travels to the laces of his britches. Brushing the bulge that has her quaking in anticipation. Pulling at the strings blindly until they loosen around his hips. His throbbing length springing into her waiting grasp.
And Fuck.
He's so hot and heavy in her palm. She feels like it'll brand the inside of her hand. He mutters a curse at the corner of her mouth and she breathes out a shuddered gasp in agreement. Her free leg curls around the back of his. Drawing him in to meet her, but much to her frustration he stops just as the tip of his erection grazes her opening. She had meant to shoot him a scathing look of irritation, assuming this was another attempt to tease. It drops off her face when she see's the unfiltered rawness in those azure depths, a gentleness that somehow touches her without actual caress. His voice uncharacteristically unsteady.
"I'm not stopping. It's just..." His brow knits as his mouth opens to then close. Trying to find the words. When he does, his voice is a little smoother but Emma can still make out the tremor that underlies his tone. "I realized something today. Something I had already realized long before but never could admit. Emma I L-"
Emma brings a hand to his mouth, pressing her fingers to his lips in stopping those last two words. Those electric blues becoming the slightest bit glassy when she does. But it's not that Emma doesn't want to hear him say it. She does. More than she could ever admit aloud. She just knows that she isn't brave enough to say it back. Not yet.
"I know." She says around a watery smile. "I know."
It never ceases to amaze Emma how much he's able to read her. Understanding without question. Because that's exactly what she see's entering in his gaze when she lets her fingers come away. He pressed a series of gentle kisses, palm to wrist, with a tenderness in his eyes she didn't quite expect, that had her heart beating just a pace faster than it already was. He lifted her hand away so to push up on his forearms; to hover over her splayed out form on the grass below in means for position.
How must she have looked right about now? Emma wondered briefly. Probably a mess.
Clothes disheveled. Her chest heaving for lost breath and restless anticipation. But he looked like a mess fit him. Tousled hair sticking up every which way. Kiss swollen lips. Total adoration in his searching gaze. It almost takes her breath away, but he does so anyway; as he thrusts steadily into her without further preamble. All the way to the hilt.
Oh God...
The painful stretch to accommodate him inside of her is a reminder that she's gone almost two years without sex. And with his size-but he's so searingly rigid-she forgets all about that. Her inner walls gripping around his member in an unyielding hold that she can't control, or much less want to. Not able to focus on anything else but the feel of him. He stills above with a tortured groan. And she's sure she's stopped breathing completely. When their eyes meet in exchanged agreement, he moves. Drawing out to the tip to push his way back in; in full. Jostling them both by the joining impact.
They've both been holding out for too long for this to go any other way.
Over and over he slides out and back in with pistoned unforgiving precision. The chain around his neck dangling back and forth with an echoing precise jingle. The motions are such a rough contrast with the way he's gazing at her-a shining and unquestionable devotion. It's absolutely overwhelming.
Fucking her while at the very same time, making love to her.
It doesn't take long after the dulling pain subsides-for Emma to eagerly meet his thrusts with her own. Propelling her hips upward as their bodies meet. Slowly becoming lost to the frenzy of sensation, she's reaching out, hands going into his shirt. Needing to feel more of his skin. Grasping at the contracting planes of muscle of his abdomen and chest. Tangling her fingers in the unruly dark hair that covered. Her outstretched legs open as wide and as far as they can go, to welcome his body into her own. Not wanting to miss any part that he had to give her.
"Emma." Yes. "My Emma." Her name falling from his mouth like the holiest of praises.
She never wants him to stop saying it.
Breathlessly stating his own in intangible broken moans. The vibrant blues in his eyes give away to something darker. Primal almost. And Emma knows he's heard it. Never stopping the undulating pump of his hips, Killian shifts his weight onto his good arm, his hook catching on the end of her shirt, rearing it up over her breasts. Running a hurried biting mess of kisses across the top of the right one before hooking back the cup of her bra to take a nipple into his mouth.
"Killian." He sucks hard at her moan. Even harder when a nameless gasp follows.
"Again." He demands around a mouthful of her breast. Sending a shock straight to her clit. Driving his cock harder when she complies. His good hand encompasses the other mound of flesh, thumbing it's center in expertise until taunt. Releasing her nipple from his mouth with a parting lick, he trails a path across the sensitive expanse in between to give it's twin the same treatment. Emma's positive that the marks left in his wake won't fade till days later. And it only adds to the tumultuous pleasure. Again and again, every pleasurable pain tinged suck, coincides with the flurry of thrusts that have her yelping and thrashing about like she's lost her mind. Surely she must have, never before had she lost self awareness with a man. But here was Killian Jones, making her forget any guard and insecurity that had helped build the walls around her heart. Replacing it with a roaring fire that had once been just a flicker of a flame. He's taught her to hope beyond all reason, in this strange dark ethereal place, that she is worth fighting for. That love, other than the familial, is not an aspect in her life she want's to give up on. With him, she swears for the both of them that she won't. And the notion is so sickeningly romantic that she wants to laugh.
Instead she cries.
Hot tracks of tears leak out from the corners of her eyes. And he's there suddenly, swarming her blurred vision, kissing them away. Kissing her. His hand drifting between their two bodies to fondle that bundle of throbbing nerves-that has her involuntarily arching up from the forest floor-wrapping her legs around his waist. Nails digging into his shoulder blades at the oncoming waves of inexplicable pleasure, that wash over her like the baptism she never had. His open eyes are drinking hers in- and she doesn't shut them this time-not when he changes in angle. Hitting deep. Continuously. In that one spot that has her seeing stars. The winding rapture that's been mounting deep inside skyrockets.
And she's coming. Coming harder than she ever has before in her entire life.
With no chance for recovery.
The tidal wave of an orgasm that's crashing down upon her doubles. In chase of his own fruition, the momentum of his thrusts increase in a recklessness that borders on the brutal. And she loves him for it.
God. She loves him.
That last bit of consciousness is all Emma's left with when the immeasurable bliss she's experiencing reaches new heights. A sob bursts it's way past her throat as white hot nirvana seizes every single vein in her body. Flying high above the world, without ever having left the ground.
So high above all else.
He's shown her what it means to fly.
And she's sure that she may very well never be able to come down again.
With one final snap of his hips, Hook stills with a deep guttural inhuman groan. His face awash in a mixture of the sweetest convulsion-swearing to the gods above-swearing himself in her name. The thrumming pulse of his release sending sinful aftershocks that paint her from the inside out.
He collapses onto her a hairsbreadth later. Or is it a lifetime? Emma's not exactly sure. His ragged breathing is in tune with hers, tickling her ear. Her heart still drumming away to the beat of their coupling. The hint of perspiration that coats her skin cooling as a wisp of a breeze passes over them.
It never comes. The immediate need to seek distance. The panic. A part of her reasons that perhaps she should panic-at least a little-as she's just had unprotected sex. Something she swore long ago that she'd never let happen again. No matter the situation. Never would she have imagined that it would have been with Captain Hook either, but right now, she can't find it within herself to care about the former. Content to just lie with him in the aftermath. When he makes a sore attempt to move off; she embraces him. Not wanting to let go just yet. There's a thoughtful pause between the both of them before he returns it in earnest. Cradling a shoulder in his palm, before leaning down to press a kiss to it, and to her neck, up to the skin just below her ear. He chuckled silkily, bringing her to turn her head and face him.
"This wasn't exactly how I envisioned this to go. Next time, it won't be a quick rut in the open. I plan on having you in the way you deserve."
"How's that?" Not being able to keep the suggestiveness out of her voice.
"On a bed, for one." He smiled cheekily. Causing her to smile just the same. He continued, but in tone much more somber. "Silk sheets. Candlelight. Worshiping you like the royalty that you are." Had anyone else spoken a line like that she probably would have laughed. Because that's what it would have exactly been. A line. But he meant every word. Much to her dismay, red hot heat sprung over the tops of her cheeks. He saw. Smile growing he said. "I'm still inside you, and yet you blush at the mention of being romanced?" That bluntness only furthered the flush to creep past her neck. His thumb brushed an errant lock of hair away from her face. "You're amazing."
It was the intensity of his praise that had her shy away. Closing her eyes while trying to keep her voice light. "I'm glad you think so."
He rested his forehead to hers."Emma look at me." She did as he asked. Lids heavy, even wavering, with how unabashedly he looked into her eyes. Knowing everything."I do think so. Very much." His thumb grazing the curve of her cheek, as if she was the most precious thing he'd ever laid his hand on. She lifted her chin to catch his lips. She had meant to keep it tender and sweet like the way he had just been. But it wasn't long before the chaste exchange of presses evolved into delving tongues. His hand waved back into her hair. Keeping her there. Not that she had any intention of pulling away from him. They stayed that way, drinking one another in. Emma had to remind herself to inhale through her nose, when the oxygen in her lungs ran out. When his cock twitched inside her, she groaned in both surprise and want.
Killian's lips left hers. A new hunger shining in those god damned eyes of his, but it was accompanied by a bemused grin. She lifted her brow in response. "Again?" Not able to keep the smile out of her voice. His tongue curled behind his teeth
"Oh love, if this were any other time and place, we'd be at it all night. Of that I can assure you." He shifts inside of her for good measure with a shallow thrust. Cock twitching again. Emma bites her lip. Knowing full well that as full of himself as he can be, that is no exaggeration. His gaze falls back to her mouth. To that bit of swollen pink flesh she's worrying with her teeth. "But we-" He leaned in. Kissing that same lip. "Should probably-" Another kiss.
"Head back." She finishes. Savoring the taste of him on her lips.
"Aye." He sighed. His hand coming to the sides of her breasts. The smooth tops of his fingernails scraping the skin as he readjusted one cup of her bra and then the other.
It takes them a moment or two before they carry out that mutual follow through. Killian being the first to move. Emma releases a small wince of discomfort when he pulled out of her. Feeling somewhat empty after having felt so full. Tucking himself back into his britches, his hand is in hers, helping her sit up beside him. Her shirt falling back over the top half of her body in the process. Before she can make an attempt to right her underwear. His hand is already there, fingers curling around the elastic to set it back in place. There's such intent and care in the way he does it. Such intimacy. As if he was undressing her rather than redressing her. And he continues to do so, reaching for the one pant leg that they had managed to shuck off in their hurry- bringing it- along with the other-back over her foot and calf. Pausing at the knee, to press a soft kiss there before managing-with her helping lift of hips-to pull the denim over and her jeans back on. All that was left was her boot. Which he already had in hand.
She returns the favor before he's done. Tying the laces of his pants as best she can. Fixing the clasps of his vest. Emma can feel his eyes on her. And she knows that if she meets his gaze right now, she'll end up kissing him again. So she watches her hands work the buckles, trying to suppress the urge, even more so when he fastens her sword back across her shoulders.
A cooling wind picks up around them, causing Emma to shiver a bit. She barely has time to blink before he picks up his coat, and drapes it over her shoulders. A grip on both lapels he pulls her towards him. Pressing another soft kiss-this time to her forehead-before making means to stand up. Bringing her along with him as his hooked arm wraps around her waist. She's grateful for that, as her legs resemble close to that of jello. She can't help but smile at the fact.
They stay that way the entire walk back to the tree houses. Pressed beside each other. Walking together. And for once the all telling silence with him is as comfortable as it could ever be if she were alone.
Only she's not alone. Not anymore.
FIN.
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