I don't own OUAT
There was a machine in the corner emitting a constant, slow beeping that sent shivers running up her spine. He looked... gone. Blood stained the sheets, and his breathing was slow and labored. She knew that this was critical, critical enough that they would throw her out of the room whenever they discovered her in there. He was too hurt for visitors, even his wife. More so than that, she was well-hated by the town, excluding her husband and the few members of her court who had remained loyal to her in Storybrooke. The numbers were few. Even her daughter refused to stand by her side on most occasions. Regina had finally received the love that she craved, just in time for her mother to finally be capable of giving it to her. Regina now denied her, no longer needing her mother's affection and not thinking that her mother may crave hers.
He was the one who had helped her through her daughter's rejection, who had come to love her despite all wrong-doing on her part. Now it was her turn to pay him back the debt that could never be paid back. Even if more loved than she, her husband was a 'villian' in his own right. They would not care for him properly, because though evil claims not to kill, they will gladly neglect if it would rid the world of 'evil'. She refused to leave him, most especially now, when he was struggling to stay alive. Now more than ever, he needed her holding his hand and tethering him to this world.
She felt her hand grow warm at the thought, moving over his body to do what she could. They had repaired his organs, at least, if poorly. He would have a good bit of time on bed-rest to fully heal, but it would do. He would survive. She could see the puckered flesh that was the entry wound for the weapon that tore through him. This world lacked many things, but weapons were not one of them. The skin was not currently bleeding, but it had not been recently cleaned, either. She swept her hand over the area, using magic to rid his tortured skin of the dried blood that covered it without having to touch him. Touch could hurt him far too much. The wound itself, though not currently bleeding, was still open, lightly scabbed, but volatile.
With a grimace, she lightly touched the wound, 'healing' it the best way she could. Healing spells are a matter of life energy, of transferring it from one person to the next. With minor wounds, it causes only exhaustion, and a need to revitalize the body. More severe wounds, as his was, had to be taken on by the other person. Willingly and completely, if at all. She could feel her own skin parting as his sealed itself, ignored the searing pain while making sure that the act was complete. His skin was sealed, leaving only a faint silver line where the bullet hole had been. She staggered over to a nearby chair, conjuring a crude sewing kit as she fell onto the chair.
Grateful for her husband's insistence that she blend in with this world as best she could- chiefly in clothing- she pulled back the thin shirt that clung to her now blood-stained stomach. She gritted her teeth as she stared at the wound that had almost killed her husband, grateful that she only had to take up the surface wound. She would be weak enough as it was when they came in to throw her out, and she refused to go without a fight. Growing up in poverty was finally helpful to her as she pulled out the needle and threaded it, knowing that this was the best way. She had crafted her father's clothes, as well as her own, and sewing was ingrained in her bones. Trying to ignore just what she was sewing, she set to work, the tiny tight stitches doing their work as it closed up, still bleeding, still painful, but manageable.
After the stitching was complete, she almost fell unconscious, her vision blurring from the blood loss and the pain. She used magic to summon one of her most loyal courtier, Kathleen, from Wonderland, who had found herself in a place of authority when she came to this world. Kathleen had become a nurse when she had come here, and she was going to be very helpful.
Baffled at first at her sudden change in location, Kathleen almost screamed when she saw who had called her- and why.
"Your Majesty!" She immediately knelt down to see the wound and, after seeing the stitches, grew serious, the training she had received in the past years immediately kicking in. She ran out of the room, returning with a syringe and water. She splashed some water of the wound to clean it before wrapping it, her queen barely aware enough to feel it. The syringe, filled with a clear liquid, was immediately injected, an attempt to calm the pain. Cora's eyes fluttered shut after a few moments, her breathing steady, but her face contorted with the pain. With no other option, Kathleen moved her queen into the bed of the man she knew to be her Lady's husband. It was not ideal, but she needed to be laying down. The man was still wounded, and could not be moved.
She left the room when satisfied that the couple would be alright momentarily, pleased by the improvement in the pirate's breathing, but horrified by what had caused it. She had never known her queen to be a woman of kindness, but she doted on her husband. It didn't surprise her that she was willing to take such risks, foolish though they were. She marked the room as quarantined, knowing there were those who would willingly take the opportunity to kill the Queen of Hearts at her weakest. As she left, a groan came from the room, unnoticed by her.
Hook had begun to stir as his wife was added to his bed, but had not fully awaken for some time, unwilling to leave the reprieve of sleep to return to a world of pain. Surprisingly, the pain was not as strong as he expected, and he found the cause when he looked down. His chief wound was gone, and his wife lay by his side. He saw her bloodstained shirt and was filled with guilt, knowing immediately that she had done, as she had on several other occasions, something she shouldn't. He got injured often, and was quite familiar with having to recover from his injuries. Since they had married, however, she had seemed unwilling to allow him to ever be in pain, inflicting it instead on herself.
He wrapped her in his arms, careful not to harm her, and placed a kiss on her head, trying to convey all of his gratitude in the small gesture. He would never be able to control her, try as he might, and she would always fight for him. The most feared woman in any land, willing to die for him, a simple pirate. It was astonishing to him. They would keep each other safe, the pirate and his queen, man and wife. A man who killed for love and a woman who ran from it, finding it in each other. Perfect.