Killian hardly gets any sleep that night, and it's not for a lack of trying. The whole night feels like a teasing game of hide and seek, and all he wants to do is find a full night's rest without feeling like he's waking up every couple of hours. But sleep continually slips out of his grasp and he's left alternating between tossing and turning, or staring through the darkness up at his ceiling.
He knows where his restlessness comes from, and it's a complicated layer of things, but when stripped down and left bare it really all comes down to one simple word.
Emma.
If he thinks about it, all his lack of sleep these days has had to do with her in some way or another. The night after she first left is still a painful blur of a memory, but he easily recalls the way he'd done nothing but tangle his sheets as he tossed and turned all night, kept up by the glimmer of a hope that maybe she'd return tomorrow.
She didn't, and he'd spent many nights afterwards trying to learn how to sleep alone again. His bed somehow suddenly too big and the nights suddenly too long.
But this time it's not the stinging sensation that radiates from within his heart as he longs to hold her that is keeping him up. This time it's an entirely different ache, heavy and deep, that leaves him anxious as he considers everything.
He wants to help Emma heal, but he's not sure how. He wants to do everything he can to help her regain her memories, but at the same time he's terrified of losing her again once she does remember. And it's thoughts like these that steal his sleep.
Just take it a day at a time.
That's what his brother had said to do, and bloody hell he was going to try his best.
But even with that conviction it doesn't make sleep come any easier.
Too soon, the morning sun is spilling into his room and he groans as he grabs one of his pillows to cover his face from the offending light.
He's typically a morning person, but right now he just wants to curse whoever decided there would only be so many hours of darkness each night.
It's with an exaggerated amount of reluctance that Killian lifts the pillow from his face and reaches for his phone to check the time. It's early, but he's not sleeping anyways so he might as well get up.
With a groan he sits up and rubs a hand along his scruff as he tries to shake the tiredness from his bones. Before he stands he takes a long look at his closed door and sighs. Emma's just beyond that door, and it feels like ages since she's been this close to him, but at the same time she's never been farther away.
He gives his head a frustrated shake; he really needs to stop doing this. He needs to stop dwelling on the past, and stop overthinking everything, and he needs to focus on how to be here for Emma.
Just take it a day at a time.
He can do this.
He just might need a hot shower to clear his head and some coffee to wake him up first.
-CS-
Emma's groggy as she peels her eyes open and stares blearily at the world in front of her. It takes her a second to remember where she is, her brain taking a little longer to wake up than the rest of her. She feels heavy and still tired somehow, though she'd slept so deeply she doesn't even remember dreaming. Which surprises her—she'd half expected to get no sleep at all, she'd certainly gone to bed with enough on her mind, but her body must have needed the sleep badly enough that it overrode her racing thoughts.
Gingerly she stands and begins making her way to the bathroom. She can't tell if her aching body and searing ribs feel better or worse after not moving all night. But she breathes deeply and forces her muscles to move, and by the time she's in front of the mirror walking is already a little easier.
Tilting her head as she looks at herself she sighs and reaches for the toothbrush Killian bought her and begins brushing her teeth.
She's definitely looked better.
Everything about her right now is a mess—life and appearance included. Her hair is in tangles, and the way it's standing a little taller on one side is a testament as to why she shouldn't sleep on it wet. And then there's the matter of the obvious bags under her eyes that match so well with the bruises she's already sporting.
But as she finishes brushing her teeth and begins to drag a brush through the knots in her hair she can't really find it within herself to care much this morning.
After putting her hair in a simple side braid, Emma exits the bathroom and makes her way down the hall. She can smell something delicious, and as she enters the kitchen she's greeted with the sight of Killian silently flipping pancakes at the stove.
Even through the soft material of his t-shirt she can see the broad expanse of his back and shoulder muscles, and she finds herself a little distracted by the way they move as he shifts a bit on his feet. He must be fresh out of the shower because there's a bit of delicious water still clinging to his hair.
She feels the slightest fluttering in her stomach, and though she might not remember him, she's not blind.
Pulling herself onto one of the barstools, she bites her lip against a groan as the effort sends flames licking up her side. Once settled she rests her forearms on the countertop and inhales a deep breath through her nose. Killian finally seems to hear her and turns around, a light smile lifting his lips.
And she'll deny it, but the fluttering in her stomach picks up just a little bit.
"Morning, Swan. How are you feeling?"
"Much the same," she says with a tiny shrug. Though terrible would be a better answer, everything hurts and she feels a little lost and overwhelmed, but he already looks at her with concern dripping off every inch of him and she doesn't need to amplify it. She'll be fine. She's always been able to manage on her own.
Though it's not like she really has a choice at the moment—Killian's all she really has. She doesn't have anywhere else to go and anything else she might have had or anyone else she might have known, she certainly doesn't remember.
And she tries not to dwell on this, because when she thinks about all the things she's forgotten, all the things everyone expects her to remember, she feels like she's being buried alive. And every time she's confronted with something that she's supposed to know but doesn't, is just the sand being packed on a little tighter above her.
It's somehow suffocating and lonely all at once.
Closing her eyes she inhales through her nose slowly before blowing the air out through her lips as she tries to focus on something other than her memory loss. She needs a distraction, and so opening her eyes, she returns her attention to watching Killian move about the kitchen.
Resting her head in her hand, she tilts her head as she considers him. "I'm surprised you have time to make pancakes, don't you have work or something?"
"Today's Sunday," he says as he briefly turns to check on the pancakes in question before turning back to face her. "And I figured both of us could use some pancakes. What do you want in yours? I have blueberries, chocolate chips, bananas…"
He trails off with an arch of his eyebrow as he waits for her response. And dropping her hand back to the counter, she stares at the swirls in the granite before answering—because if she were to guess, then he probably already knows what she likes in her pancakes.
"Don't you already know that answer?" And she doesn't mean it to, but her question comes out sad and small. She really is trying not to let this memory loss thing bother her, and this is such a small and inconsequential thing, but she can't help the way her chest tightens because of it.
"I do," he answers gently, softness and understanding shining in his eyes. "But you don't remember telling me, so I'm asking."
Emma can't do much but blink at him for a moment, he's constantly blowing her away with his kindness, and she's continually caught off guard with how aware of her he seems to be. How he just seems to know what it is she needs, even when it's something she's not sure how to articulate. How he can just tell that she's overwhelmed, that she needs to feel as though she has at least some control over what he knows about her.
She licks her lips and blinks a few more times as she tries to stop staring at him. "Chocolate chips. I… uh like chocolate chips."
"Chocolate it is then."
He smiles again and Emma continues to stare at him as he makes his way over to a cupboard and pulls out the small bag of chocolate.
Unexpected tears begin to gather in her eyes and Emma reaches up quickly to brush them away. Doing her best to blink the remaining water out of her eyes before Killian can turn around and look at her again.
Who knew having amnesia would make her so emotional?
She feels a little frayed, like her insides are exposed and vulnerable.
Taking a deep breath to gain control of herself again, she smooths her palms over the cold granite and straightens her spine before lifting her gaze to watch Killian cook.
It occurs to her that maybe doing something that keeps her hands busy will help keep her mind off of everything else. And so turning in the barstool she carefully slides off it and makes her way around the center island.
"Can I help?" she asks as soon as she's standing next to him.
Killian must not have noticed her approaching because he jumps a little before turning towards her. Immediately his eyes travel along her face, lingering on her lips before finally meeting her eyes. He opens his mouth but doesn't say anything, closing it suddenly as he lifts a hand to scratch behind his ear.
"Of course, Swan." He seems a little flustered as he turns his head from side to side, searching the counter for something. Spotting what he needs, Killian snatches the spatula from its spot beside the stove and offers it to her. "You can flip the pancakes, I'll…uh get the table set."
He leaves her and Emma turns her attention to the pancakes heating in the skillet. They're bubbling and look about ready to flip and so she slips the spatula beneath one of them and lifts it slightly to check. Deciding it looks golden brown enough, she slides the spatula completely under and flips it.
It sizzles loudly as the uncooked side meets the heat of the skillet and Emma smiles slightly to herself. This is what she needs, something normal, something to distract her from dwelling on how much she's seemingly forgotten.
Soon enough she's helping Killian bring everything to the table and pouring syrup all over her already sweetened pancakes. Much like their last meal they don't say much, and only the sound of their silverware clinking against their plate's echoes through the apartment.
As a result, the sudden knock that pounds against the front door seems to reverb off the walls as it cuts through the silence that had settled over them.
Emma snaps her head up, looking over at the door before turning her attention to Killian. His forehead creases as a slight frown forms on his lips while he looks towards the front of the apartment.
"I didn't tell anyone to come over," he half mumbles to himself as he places his fork down and pushes his chair back to stand up.
He saunters barefooted to the front door and opens it.
"David? Mary Margaret? What are you guys doing here?"
Curious, Emma turns a little more in her seat and cranes her neck to try and see who is at the door.
A small woman, with black, pixie cut hair, stands on her tiptoes as she hugs Killian briefly before pushing her way into the apartment.
"Killian, how're you guys doing? I've been a mess since you called and told us what happened. I wanted to come sooner, but David said Emma probably wouldn't even be out of the hospital yet. But I wanted to make sure you guys are okay. Do you need anything? I can always make dinner and bring it by."
The woman says this all a little breathlessly as though she's been bursting to get this all out for days. A taller man with blond hair follows her into the entryway. He has a baby in his arms and a diaper bag slung over his shoulder, and he chuckles lightly as he reaches out his free hand to shake with Killian's.
"Sorry Killian, I tried to get her to wait as long as I could."
Upon hearing the woman mention her name, Emma stands and takes a few hesitant steps towards the group gathered in the entryway.
Killian looks over at her and the concern she's becoming very familiar with is back and swimming in his eyes. Looking back towards his friends, he steps to the side and almost completely blocks Emma from their view.
"I appreciate you guys coming over, I really do. I just don't know if now is a good time. Emma's still—"
"Emma!" Mary Margaret gasps, having finally seen her. She deftly steps around Killian and with a rushed stride makes her way towards Emma.
And before she can even register what exactly is happening, Mary Margaret has her arms wrapped around her, crushing her gently to her chest.
Emma stiffens, unsure of how to respond as panic surges through her and squeezes her lungs. Frantically her eyes flash towards Killian and she gives him a pleading look.
She has a hard time opening up to people in general, and hugging is not something she's used to, especially not with someone who feels like a stranger.
Thankfully, Mary Margaret releases her before Killian has to intervene. But the relief is short lived as the woman almost immediately replaces the hug with a gentle grasp to both of Emma's arms.
"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret gushes. "I've been so, so worried. The second Killian told us what happened I couldn't stop crying. But you'll get your memory back in no time I just know it."
Mary Margaret smiles at her with such joy and hope that Emma stammers for a moment, overwhelmed. Luckily she's saved from having to say anything back when David steps forward and gently places a hand on Mary Margaret's shoulder, pulling her towards him.
"Honey, I'm sure Emma's had a lot to deal with, we don't need to bombard her." He turns his attention to Emma and smiles. "I'm glad you're doing okay though, Emma. We really have been worried about you."
"Right, of course," Mary Margaret apologizes, stepping closer to her husband and placing a hand on her baby's back.
The baby straightens from his spot nestled against his father's chest and looks at Emma. Immediately she's greeted with a gummy grin as the baby's eyes light up and he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. He reaches for Emma, leaning out of David's arms as he opens and closes his fingers and babbles a bit of happy nonsense.
"Oh do you remember Emma, Leo?" Mary Margaret coos at her baby before taking him in her arms and bouncing him lightly. "I'm surprised he seems to remember you it's been a while since he's seen you."
Leo keeps reaching for her, and she's worried that Mary Margaret is going to ask her to hold him, but thankfully Killian rescues her.
"Why don't we sit down? Emma's supposed to be resting," Killian says just as he steps up behind her and places a hand at her back.
"Killian's right, Emma," David offers as he wraps an arm around Mary Margaret. "You'll heal faster if you don't exhaust yourself. We don't mean to keep you on your feet, you should lie down. We promise not to stay too long."
And with a kiss to his wife's head David leads Mary Margaret and baby Leo towards the living room.
Emma's insides turn to ice, keeping her frozen in place as she watches the little family situate themselves on one of Killian's little loveseats.
She can't do this.
She doesn't know any of this.
She flinches slightly when she feels Killian lean down and put his head close to her ear. "Are you okay, love?"
Emma looks at him and she knows he has to see the distress on her face considering she has no energy at the moment to cover it up—but she doesn't know how to answer so she simply nods, even though she's anything but okay.
It feels like there's not enough space in her chest. Like something is preventing her lungs from fully expanding, and she can't get enough air because of it.
Killian's forehead furrows and he opens his mouth as if he's about to say something but Emma shakes her head quickly and looks up at him pleadingly.
Please, not now. She can't handle anymore. She just needs someone to let her be.
He seems to understand, because he closes his mouth and presses his lips into a thin line before sighing and dragging a hand down his face as though he's equally distressed by this whole thing.
Numbly she lets Killian guide her to the couch, accepting the blanket he hands her. She sets it on her lap without unfolding it and breathes slowly, trying to ease the tightness in her chest as she looks at Mary Margaret and David giggling at little Leo.
"What's Liam been up to?" David asks Killian once they're all settled. "I feel like I haven't seen him in a while."
Killian's still looking at Emma with worry pressing on his features and it's almost like he has to physically drag his gaze away from her to look at David and answer. "Much the same. He's become quite smitten with a girl at work. Elsa, I think is her name."
"Oh he should bring her by sometime." Mary Margaret exclaims as she bounces Leo up and down lightly on her knee, her fingers in the baby's grasp. "We could have a little get together at our house, it's been a little while since we've had one." She turns her attention to Emma, smiling gently. "Everyone's so glad you're okay, Emma. I was just talking to Ruby the other day and she wants you to know she's hoping you'll be better soon. So many people are anxious to see you again. I think dinner would be the perfect opportunity."
"Mary Margaret," David interrupts. "I'm sure Emma's not quite ready for that yet."
"Oh yes, of course. I mean, obviously I didn't mean right now, but maybe after your physical injuries have healed. I know Belle is anxious to see you. Regina and Robin will also probably want to come, and Killian you can make sure Liam brings this Elsa. It can just be a small thing. We can even just do appetizers if not everyone's up for dinner."
And with the more names Mary Margaret mentions the farther away she sounds, until Emma feels as if she's listening to her speak from under water. How many more people is she going to have to pretend like she remembers?
Looking down at the blanket in her lap, Emma feels her eyes start to water.
She can't do this.
She's completely lost track of the conversation, but when she looks up she can see Killian gazing at her anxiously from the corner of her eye.
"I'm very tired," she says suddenly, effectively cutting off whoever was speaking before her. She just needs some way to get out of this room, to get away from all of this. "I think I'm going to go take a nap."
She moves to stand but Mary Margaret and David beat her too it.
"No, Emma stay, we don't want to make you move. We'll head out," David says, placing his hand at Mary Margaret's back.
It's hard not to feel as though everything is pressing in on her. What with the way David's looking at her with nothing but kindness and Mary Margaret gazes at her with an almost motherly concern as she shifts Leo in her arms, the baby babbling happily as he chews on his fingers. Then there's the matter of Killian sitting in the corner, she doesn't even have to look at him to know his eyes are drilling anxious holes through her.
They all obviously care for her, so overwhelmed or not, she does her best to smile and hopes it doesn't come out too shaky.
Killian follows the little family to the door, and they exchange goodbyes that she can't really hear. She hears the door click shut and the silence that follows is blissful. Closing her eyes, Emma sighs as she leans back against the couch.
"Swan, I'm so sorry about that. I had no idea they were coming over. David's my mate from college and—" He cuts off with loud sigh and Emma opens her eyes in time to see him running a hand through his hair as he looks up at the ceiling. "I should've said something to them beforehand. I'm sorry."
She doesn't respond. Only because the tightness in her chest hasn't quite left and she can feel the pressure behind her eyes start to build again, a tear finally slipping free as she looks out the window in front of her. And she's scared that if she says anything she'll completely lose what little control she has.
"Emma…I…Can I get you anything?" Killian asks, clearly struggling with a way to try and help her.
With a sigh Emma looks up at him, and she recognizes the torment on his features. This clearly isn't just hard on her, but she's not sure how to do anything but try to keep herself from drowning.
"Killian…I think I'd just like to be alone right now."
His brow furrows and she's almost certain that the anxious crease between his eyebrows is going to become permanent. "Of course—you can stay out here, there's a T.V. and I have some things I can get done in my room. Let me just get you your medicine first."
He does it quickly, disappearing for only a moment before returning with pills and a glass of water that he places on the table in front of her.
"Don't hesitate to let me know what you need, Swan." He smiles at her, but like at the hospital it's more of just a sad lift of his lips, and the smile Emma offers in return isn't any better.
As he leaves, she reaches for her medicine and takes all three pills in one swallow before putting the glass back down and resting her head in her hands.
She can't do this.
Her tears come freely now and she wipes at them as she sits up, gasping as she tries to breathe properly. But the tension in her chest only tightens.
She needs to breathe. She needs air.
Looking around the room she spots Killian's keys resting on a small table by the door. And not even thinking twice, she pulls herself to standing and hurries to the front door as quickly as her injured body will allow. Snatching the keys off the table, she curls her fingers around them and brings them to her chest, closing her eyes as she tries to settle her racing heart.
She needs to be alone, she needs to think, needs to breathe. And she can't do that here, not at the moment.
And so with a final shaky breath, Emma opens her eyes and looks back at Killian's apartment for only a moment before slipping out the front door.