It had been two days since the night at the bar and Emma now had herself convinced that it was all due to complete and thorough drunkness. Killian was drunk, so he kissed her. She was drunk, so she overworked the whole thing. She didn't even really like to be that close to him. She'd over imagined the taste of his lips and she'd over imagined wanting more. None of it could have meant anything because clearly they'd both been too drunk to function.
Tink didn't agree.
She'd been hounding Emma since then. Asking her about what went on. In detail. Pressing her for more. And more. Giving her those damn looks that said that she definitely wasn't saying everything she wanted to. Emma tried to tell her that it was pointless, that they'd all been drunk. And Tink still tried to convince her otherwise.
Currently, they were sitting around Emma's room. Or rather, Tink was sitting around. Emma was pacing angrily. The rain out the window was coming down in sheets, as was her sanity. She wasn't one for the indoors even on her best days. So when rain meant missing her sword fighting lesson she certainly was running low on patience. Add that Tink had been hounding her with looks all morning and she was on her very last straw. Which she seemed to be on constantly lately.
"Have you spoken to Killian?" Tink asked, lying back on Emma's bed at just the right angle not to see the icy glare Emma threw her way. She didn't want to talk about it anymore and she didn't want to hear about it anymore. The whole damn night was a big fat mistake and Tink wouldn't let it go. "Ignoring me won't make me go away," she sung, and Emma rolled her eyes, continuing her impatient pace.
"It might," she mumbled under her breath.
"Well?" Emma rolled her eyes at the fairy's insistence.
"Sure," she finally muttered, shrugging and hoping hard that she would drop it. No such luck.
"And?" Tink pressed. Emma sighed loudly, stopping her pacing to turn and face her friend.
"What do you want me to say?" she snapped, regretting losing her patience immediately. Tink's face fell and she stared at her fingers. "Look…" Emma paused, trying to think of the right words but coming up empty. She sighed again, softer now. "Killian is my best friend, Tink." She knew it was weak even before Tink rolled her eyes, popping to her feet. She crossed the room, standing just in front of Emma. "Tink-" she began to protest.
"Shh," Tink answered. She studied Emma's face carefully, then spoke slowly. "If Knave kissed you, what would you do?"
"Ew," Emma looked at Tink like she had three heads. She might as well have, for what she was saying. "He wouldn't."
"Okay, fair point…" Tink muttered. "But say he was drunk and Ruby…" she paused, then seemed to throw her cares in the air, "Ruby dared him."
Emma was annoyed but decided to humor the fairy, running the scenario over in her mind quickly. She answered without much thought. "I'd punch him."
Tink raised her eyebrows pointedly, and Emma just stared at her friend.
"What's your point, fairy?" she asked. She was fairly certain her friend was losing her mind.
"You didn't punch Killian," she noted carefully. Emma took a small step back. Tink's eyebrows were still raised, as if she knew something Emma didn't. Cautious curiosity was in the depths of her expression.
"I shoved him," she mumbled in her defense. Tink rolled her eyes. "What are you trying to prove!?" Emma finally cried. She was beyond losing her patience. Another bang of thunder reverberated through her ears and she could hear the rain falling harder.
"Emma…" Tink sighed softly, "Don't you think you might have feelings for Killian? Besides friendship?"
Emma felt herself freeze. Of course she didn't. She couldn't, she knew better. But the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn't the most convincing response. She'd been drunk, dammit.
"N-no!" she forced the words across her lips, "Don't be an idiot," she added with more conviction.
Tink was staring at her with a smug smirk that Emma didn't like one bit. She was suddenly so angry at the rain for choosing such a horrible time and being so unrelenting. She needed an out, desperately. All she could think about was how her lips had tasted that night, and she was trying to brush it off and to think of other things but she couldn't. She couldn't.
"Why haven't you spoken to him?" Tink countered, raising a single eyebrow. The fairy was so damn good at catching her in a lie, it was ridiculous.
"We just haven't seen each other, it's not a big deal!" Emma answered, almost frantically. She didn't realize it, but she'd taken another small step back.
"Love shouldn't frighten you," Tink was beginning to look genuinely fearful for Emma, or perhaps Emma's sanity. And Emma was fairly sure her sanity was near gone. She wasn't scared. She wasn't scared of anything. Not ogres or crusaders or even dragons, so she certainly wasn't scared of love.
Emma was frantically searching for a comeback, any comeback, when there was a sudden sharp knock on the door. Both of the girls jumped a bit, turning to face it. Grumpy stood there, and for a moment Emma was flooded with relief. But the expression on his face was anything but something to be relieved about. She was used to her uncle's nose being turned up slightly in his usual Grumpy aura, but now it wasn't. Worried wrinkles framed his eyes that were set with a scary sadness that she hadn't known the dwarf was even capable of feeling.
"W-what is it?" she asked cautiously. She almost didn't want to know. Frightening scenarios were running through her mind. Her father taken out by a dragon, the evil queen casting a curse on her mother… Killian trying to take a monster he simply couldn't handle alone.
"Princess, Lady Bell.." he bowed stiffly, eyes never leaving Emma.
"Grumpy, what is it?" she repeated, more firmly now. She could feel Tink's tenseness beside her.
"You need to come with me, Princess," was all he replied, turning slightly and motioning her along.
Her heart dropped, imagining her parents in coffins or Killian torn to shreds. Why hadn't she spoken to Killian? Who knew where he was, what he'd gotten himself into. She cautiously took another step, hesitant to learn what had happened. But with each step she became more and more frightened, until she was practically running through the halls. Grumpy kept calling for her to slow down but she knew the way to her fathers study without him.
When she finally reached the big wooden door she threw it open without even knocking. Her father was across the room, pacing slowly and staring out the window. When he heard the door fly open his head snapped towards it, hand automatically reaching for the hilt of his sword. But when he saw it was only his daughter, his whole form loosened.
"Emma…" he began, but she interrupted.
"What is it?" she ordered, voice shaking. It wasn't her mother, she'd be able to tell by the grief on his face. It had to be Killian. "What happened to him?"
"Emma, settle down," her father said softly. He was watching her carefully and her breath kept catching miserably in her throat because she just needed to know.
"Father, I-" she began, focusing on keeping her voice firm. It continued to shake anyway.
"Nothing happened to him," he answered carefully, "Not directly."
"Just tel-" she tried.
"Emma I'm trying to tell you," he said with enough force to shut her mouth but enough kindness to calm her racing heart, just a bit. "Killian is okay," he paused, studying her carefully with his serious blue eyes. "It's Liam."
Oh.
Oh.
"Oh no…" she breathed softly.
Liam was Killian's elder brother. When the sailors first brought back the two frail and dirtied boys, they'd been inseparable. Lost boys, they'd called themselves. And when Killian had first befriended Emma, Liam had always been there too. Following them on their escapades on occasion, or staying back and warning Killian not to get in trouble. And if Liam said it, Killian listened. There was no one in the world Killian listened to like he listened to his brother. He'd occasionally tell Emma snippets of stories. How Liam had always protected him and how he fed him and cared for him. He rarely told Emma much about his past but Emma knew enough to know Liam had been the only good part of it, and the only reason he'd gotten out alive.
Her father was saying something about his last trip. He'd taken a job in a neighboring kingdom because they had more to offer to a captain than Emma's kingdom. The crusade they'd been hiring a crew for had a bigger payoff. Her father of course didn't force any of his sailors to stay loyal to his kingdom. In fact, he'd encouraged Liam to find a job that would pay him well enough to have a life, to support Killian through his apprenticeship. He had always cared about the boys, and only now did it occur to Emma that he cared for them because she did.
"-they had to leave." he finished slowly, "Of course, there's still hope. He could still be alive there… The crew simply couldn't wait any long-"
"How can you say that?" Emma asked slowly. Tears were filling her eyes and she had to fight not to scream at her father for how stupid his words were. How dumb he was being.
"Say what?" he asked, still speaking slowly. Carefully.
"That there is hope!" her voice was shaking and she was trying to keep from losing it but she couldn't. She couldn't.
Killian without Liam simply wasn't right.
"Emma, there's always hope," he answered, brow furrowing as he watched her.
"Did you tell Killian that?" she asked, heart pounding. Praying he didn't. Her head was spinning.
"Of course."
She took off immediately without hardly having to think, fumbling with the door and then just running. Her father was yelling after her but she hardly heard. How much time had she wasted already? All she knew was that she needed to get to the docks. She needed to get to the docks.
She raced through the halls, only the sound of her boots of stone echoing behind her. Once or twice she thought she heard her name, but she just kept going. She vaguely wondered if the guards would let her by but she brushed it off. She'd make them let her by because she needed to get to the docks before he got away. That was the only clear thought making it through her clouded mind. She wasn't going to lose him like this.
She made it to the front doors and threw them open and just kept running, not even giving the guards enough time to react. Her lungs were burning and her head was spinning and now rain was pouring through her hair and her clothes. It soaked into her braid and her white blouse clung to her skin and she was faintly aware that it was becoming see-through but her black bodice was enough to make her not care.
Rain was dripping into her eyes and everything around her was grey but she could only run and run and keep running blindly in the direction of the docks. She usually avoided them like the plague and the thought of all the endless water reaching greedily for the shore and for her made her stomach feel sick but she needed to get there. She needed to get to Killian.
She could make out shadows of ships now, and she could hear the crashing waves. The smell of fish and salty air nearly suffocated her. The sea was beautiful, but not like this. Not this close and not in this storm. Her heart pounded and she gasped for air and she paused a moment but no longer.
"Killian?!" she cried, stepping out on to the dock. Carefully. Her boots slipped a bit on the slimy salt-stained wood. She could faintly see a shadow of someone else in the distance, and it had to be him. No one else would be on the dock in this storm. No one else would be on the dock, much less preparing the raggedy old sailboat that was his pride and joy. Thunder boomed and an angry wave crashed beside her on the dock, spraying her with ocean salt. She was shivering and every part of her was drenched. The water had even gotten through the toughened leather of her pants and she felt stiff. But she forced herself to take another cautious step, and another. The sounds of wind and rain and waves and persistent thunder roared in her ears, and for a moment all she saw was endless grey. Then there was a shadow of a face. Then Killian.
She couldn't see much but she could see he'd been crying. She could see the pain in his eyes and the dark lines on either side of them. The twinkle that was always there, always a part of him, was gone. His black hair was still a mess but now clung to his forehead and in his eyes. His expression was solemn, and almost angry.
"What are you doing here!?" he had to yell to be heard over the storm, but Emma thought he probably would have yelled at her anyway. He didn't want her here to stop him. It was greedy of her to want to stop him and she knew it. But she couldn't let him go blindly into this, into anything. And she couldn't imagine letting him go without saying goodbye. She knew he was angry with her and he had a right to be, but still there was a hint of concern in those ridiculous eyes of his.
"I…" she wasn't sure. Now that she was here and standing with him she didn't know what she was supposed to tell him. Why it was so important she got here before he left. But here she was, standing at the single place that frightened her most in the world. Speaking to him like she'd so desperately needed. "I…"
He shook his head slowly, stepping nearer to her as the wind grew stronger. She was shivering uncontrollably now.
"Go back to your castle, princess. The dock is no place for a royal, and certainly not during a storm," he began to turn away from her, disappointment settling in his eyes. She hesitated, took a deep breath and grabbed his shoulder. He slowly turned back around.
"You can't go," she said, trying to yell but losing her guts. He motioned at his ears and she sighed angrily, stepping closer to him, "You can't leave me!" she yelled, a breath from his ear. The wind was whipping around her hair that wasn't trapped in her braid, and it stung when wet lock met skin. But she ignored it, focusing her remaining attention on Killian. Killian and the set sadness in his eyes. The sadness and, what was worse, the hope.
"I have to, Swan!" he answered, still yelling, "I can't bloody leave him!"
Emma was shaking her head, feeling her frustration billowing. "How do you know he's even alive still!" she cried, silently cursing her father for feeding him such unrealistic hope. Killian's brow furrowed slightly.
"He is," shook his head, slowly then with more force, "He's not dead."
The wind whistled and Emma automatically moved closer to him.
"Killian you-" she began angrily, and he interrupted.
"You think he's dead?" he realized, shaking his head slowly. She could have sworn he was starting to grin. "He's in Neverland, Emma!" he shouted, and now a crazy smile lit up his face. The smile frightened Emma. He was nearly laughing, and his whole face was lit up brighter. The rain dripped down his cheeks and his forehead and his nose and he should've be mourning but he was smiling.
"And he's lost!" she answered, reaching for his arm and grasping it tightly. Trying to force some hint of sense into her friend. He had completely lost his mind.
"Yes!" this time he did laugh, and she wanted to shake him for being such an idiot. But she could only stare at him, confused and shocked and a little hurt. He stared at her a moment and then shook his head. "Emma, love, Neverland!" he paused as if waiting for her. "Neverland, where your bloody sailors found us!" his face solemned a bit as he tried to explain. And slowly it was sinking in.
"So… You think he's alive because… Because you lived there?" she asked cautiously. She still wasn't sure whether or not he'd lost his mind.
"Yes!" he answered immediately, nodding, "He is, Emma. And I've got to save him this time," he added carefully. Another huge wave crashed dangerously close to them and Emma ducked away. She slipped a bit but Killian caught her shoulders, holding her upright. Staring at her with those damn blue eyes of his.
And she believed him.
But that didn't mean she was okay with him leaving her.
"Killian, just wait," she begged softly, "Let… Let my father send out a search crew," she suggested, and he squeezed her shoulders gently, shaking his head slowly, "Let him take care of it!" she argued over his motions.
"I can't, lass," he answered slowly. She shivered again from the cold and he rubbed his calloused hands gently up and down her arms. "Emma, I have to do this."
"My father can-" she tried again but he just kept shaking his head. She was trying desperately not to cry. She couldn't cry in front of him. Then pulled her into a tight embrace. She automatically melted against his chest, faintly noting that he was just as soaked as she. But his body was warm and she clung to him. She didn't want him to go. She never wanted him to go. And she was crying anyway, her head pressed to his shoulder. She hoped he didn't know but she knew he did. There was never a time he didn't know.
He held her a while longer and then slowly let go, holding her out in front of him. A sad smirk was on his lips. Thunder cracked through the air and Emma could have sworn it began raining even harder.
"If I'd have known all it'd take to get you on the dock was leaving, I would've done it a while ago, love," he teased and she tried not to laugh through her tears but she couldn't hold back a choked chuckle. He'd done everything every day since they were young to get her to face her fear, to step out on the docks, and never had her stubborness failed her. Not until today.
"Please don't leave," she tried again, but he shook his head slowly. The rain was flooding her vision again so she couldn't see him. Or perhaps it was tears, she couldn't be sure anymore. "How will you get there?" she asked. He just smiled sadly.
"I have my ways, love," he assured her quietly.
He started to turn away from her, but then paused. Her heart jumped when he cautiously turned back around. The wind was tousling even his hair now and it seemed like all of him was moving but his eyes. His eyes never left hers. They looked broken, but she was used to that by now. What was new was a slight twinkle. Not his devious twinkle either. Something new and something that felt very, very personal.
She was already cold again but she hardly noticed through the spinning of her head. And he was moving cautiously towards her again. Rain was soaking his face and now he was close enough that she could see even his eyelashes were clinging together from the water. She felt her eyes drift from his, peering down at his lips. He hesitated then he was right in front of her and she caught another small glimpse of that twinkle in his blue eyes just before they were on top of her and hers drifted closed as his lips met hers.
For just a moment she was frozen. Stuck between wanting him and not wanting to lose him. But she was losing him no matter what. And so she let herself go. Let herself lean into him and kiss him back. One of her hands slipped into his soaked mess of hair, fingers tangling through the unruly black locks. At first he hesitated, maybe surprised that she was kissing him or maybe just thining, she wasn't sure. But then he wrapped his arms around her, one hand settling on the small of her back, the other cradling her head.
Emma's mind was clouded as his soft lips moved gently with hers. Cautious but refined. Holding himself back. She was holding herself back, too. Clearly not enough, since she was kissing him. But she couldn't think anything through and all she knew was that she liked it. She liked the way she fit in his arms and she liked that she could faintly taste him through the saltwater drenching them both and she liked how she could feel his heart pounding in his chest. She liked the way he needed her, for once, as much as she needed him. The thunder that surrounded them seemed constant now, an endless rumble of varying intensities.
He leaned deeper into the kiss for just a moment, almost frantically, but then she broke it. Bent her head away from him. Tried to breath what little air around them that wasn't rain and water. She cautiously faced him again, gently rested her forehead on his and just stared into his eyes that were sad and happy at the same time. Watched the rain continue to flow down his face. His hand gently pressed against her back a second longer, then he pulled away entirely, nose brushing hers. Her hand fell from his hair to her side, and he leaned back just a moment to cautiously brush his lips across her forehead.
"Emma…" he began, but she interrupted before he said anything either of them would regret.
"Come back." she breathed. She knew he couldn't hear her voice over the crashing waves and roaring wind, but he read her lips. His face fell a bit, but he nodded once.
She watched until she could only see his faint silhouette against the storm. It was stupid to set sail in this weather, but she knew if anyone could do it, it was Killian. He had his boat prepped already, and now only had to release it from the moor. Her heart just kept sinking lower and lower and she didn't want to watch him. She didn't want to watch him leave her. She slowly began to turn around and away. He was detaching it from the dock now and her heart pounded.
He was leaving, after everything.
It was as she stepped back towards the safety of the shore that it happened. She misstepped slightly, boot slipping, at the same moment a resounding bang of thunder threw her senses in a twist and the biggest wave yet crashed over the dock. Her balance went entirely and her stomach flipped wildly. She didn't know which way to lean or what to grab for and she was falling.
It felt like she fell for 5 minutes, when in reality it couldn't have been more than 5 seconds. Every breath was another failed attempt to just freeze everything. She heard screaming and it didn't even occur to her that it was herself. When she finally hit the water there was no air left in her lungs. She gasped, but swallowed water instead, choking. Everything was water. She pawed frantically at the cold surface, kicking and kicking and kicking…
And sinking.
Her heart couldn't seem to decide between racing or slowing. it would pound frantically, then stop. She was very aware of her heartbeat. Her whole existence felt like a heartbeat. Pounding and pounding and pounding at her skin. Her lungs were burning and she was still struggling against the water but her heart pounded ever harder when she realized she no longer knew which way was up. The cold intensity pressed in on her from all sides and she slowly began to realize she was going to die.
